Strayed

I can appreciate Cheryl Strayed’s choice in last names. I’ll let you read her book “Wild” to realize why she chose it. My “strayed” is a different story but a strayed one none the less.

If I don’t work to keep a strong and centered focus on God and our relationship all the other parts of me start to stray. I’m not as patient with my children. I’m not as loving to my husband. I’m not as thoughtful to my friends. I’m not as kind to strangers. I close off. I become insular. I stop.

But, if I do focus on God, I can make stronger choices, choices that lead to positive reactions and positive repercussions.

To be honest, I don’t always know what staying focused on God looks like. I know what it feels like, but I’m not always awesome at taking the action steps to open the door to that intimacy. Should I be praying in a different way, studying, attending my bible study, curtailing my speech, taking action, or participating more in my church community. I’ll admit, probably all of the above is the answer. It’s all been weighing on my heart. So, why am I in my way and how do I get out of the way if I seem to know the answer?

Always in the hope of love and light,

LT

Book Club: Me Before You

I’m speechless and yet compelled to document this moment. I’ve just finished reading Jojo Moyes’ “Me Before You.” Oh, my goodness. I could not put this book down. I had to force myself to take a break to sleep, to feed my children, hug my husband, and remind myself to breath.

“Me Before You” is a beautifully written love story that I never in a million years would have picked up to read if it had not been an assigned reading for my book club.

First, Jojo Moyes, my apologies for not having known about you beforehand and for bluntly sharing that I probably wouldn’t have picked up the book based on the book cover description, but, Jojo, you should know, the first thing I did when I finished reading “Me Before You” was to reread the last three paragraphs several times and then look up your website. I can’t wait to pick up more of your books, and I’m so glad to know that you have an Arthur in your life. I have two that I love dearly! (Love and miss you, too, Granddaddy! #3)

I’m still grappling with all of my emotions and thoughts about “Me Before You” but will be ready to share them with the book club girls, and may I say, THANK GOD FOR BOOK CLUB! I am so thankful for having read this book and so many others that they have recommended to me. 

This dedicated group of women with degrees and professions ranging from poetry, literature, history, and religion to political science, education, marketing, and biology meets monthly for dinner and discussion. Loving one another dearly, there is always polite chatter as dinner is prepared, but it doesn’t take long before one of us cannot contain the itch to start talking about the book. Yes, there is wine involved, but I swear to you, a good hour and a half later, we’re still digging into the depths of our latest literary feat. It’s fabulous!

I am so grateful to these women for the breadth and depth they have added to my life. I think I could speak on behalf of the whole group that we are thankful for each voice that has graced our discussions and each book that has opened our eyes to an experience we wouldn’t have had without it.

With jobs, illnesses, children, death of loved ones and just the exhaustion sometimes of everyday life, we’re not always able to make every gathering, but there is always a pull back to book club…a pull towards living our lives to the fullest by experiencing more through storytelling, imagination, and the full immersion into other times and cultures that continues to draw us back. Also, there is the promise that we will be stretched, empowered, enlightened and connected in more powerful ways to life’s full experience. And then, there is that simple truth, that when two or more are gathered, there is community and strength and comfort that can be counted on when we can, and especially when we can’t, make it to book club.

Thanks for the great read, girls! Jojo, it is beautiful...hard...but beautiful!

With love and light,

LT

Please don’t squash my happy!

So, here’s the deal. I can go to the really, really dark places, or let me say, I have been to the really, really dark places. Those dark times were like being trapped and having no concept (or really even desire) of how to get out. But, it’s funny how light works. It always finds a way of shining through the darkness. We just have to open ourselves up to seeing it.

I’m thankful that during those dark and yucky times love kept blinking at me, and I eventually started to let it shine bright enough that I didn’t see the darkness anymore. I started to let the light in by…

• Accepting the love and commitment of my family and friends
• Completing simple projects that helped me realize my self confidence
• Having the courage to accept the help of nurturing and challenging counselors and taking their recommended medication
• Standing up for myself against naysayers
• Letting go of pain causers and throwing away bad memory triggers
• Taking an interest in my appearance and health
• Creating positive new friendships and re-establishing important friendships
• Admitting that life could be a whole lot worse and that I didn’t want it to be
• Loving and caring for my angel dog and having fun playing
• Realizing I wanted more
• Enjoying my gifts, talents and interests
• Deepening my faith through study, prayer and small-group community
• Finding a vocation that fulfills my need to make meaningful and effective contributions to help others

Once I set my determination towards moving away from those tough times with lessons and strength gathered through these experiences, there was some back and forth. Fortunately, as the days and years ticked by, I started to get a stronger sense of moving forward rather than backward. I made the conscious choice to work hard not to let the darkness dampen that light again.

I strive to be a positive, happy and loving person, but I’ll admit to you sometimes it’s hard to stay consistent. Angry and loud voices, violence, the feeling of constraint or being ignored, negativity and disrespect, especially in repetition towards me or others, can make it difficult to keep my happy. But dang it, I say, “DON’T SQUASH MY HAPPY!”

I love making my children happy and hearing my husband laugh. I love finding beauty in nature, art, music and in the kindness of others. I love good stories and happy movies. I love birthdays and reasons to celebrate. I love a great conversation and good times spent with family and friends. My ability to focus on these positives is what I think draws my family and friends toward me and strengthens my support network.  

I have to remind myself of what's really important and those lessons I learned getting myself out of the dark in the first place. So, I say, “DON’T SQUASH MY HAPPY!” and please, don’t let others squash yours. There’s always a way out of the darkness. Remember that light is blinking at you. Try to stay focused on it. It takes help, but you can do it. Realizing the YOU part is important.

With love and light,
LT

Let's Play!

My favorite playtime as a child involved creating great scenes for storytelling. I would spend hours setting the stage. The mosses and rocks in my front yard were my favorite tools. I would carve out rivers and valleys and line them with the blue rocks that had fallen from our (believe-it-or-not) blue-pebbled roof. The moss would create intricate landscapes in which my sister’s Star Wars characters arranged themselves. My mother finally gave up trying to collect her spoons back from our natural masterpieces and bought a new set.

Although, I fondly remember the comforting feeling this focused play gave me as I worked to build each story, I find that watching my children play brings me an even greater delight.

I love that from the moment that William could crawl towards a door he would open and close it. A wee babe, he would open and shut, open and shut, open and shut any door or cabinet he could inch towards. To this day, his play fascinates me. He wants to know how things work. His favorite play space is the floor. He is very fair towards all of his toys and seems to give them all equal time. I love seeing the choices he makes each morning. Which special police car or fire truck made it into his precious hands? Is it an airplane or series of monster trucks? Who will he ask to bring with us on our morning drive?

In the evening, you can probably find him surrounded by a train track or at the completion of a Lincoln log jail with traps in place. If it’s a Lego set, you can’t pull him away from it until it is complete. He’ll sit for hours working through each step or work without instructions and create house after house and vehicle after vehicle. His intricacy, symmetry and attention to detail are mind-boggling.

His sister Abby delights in caring for her stuffed animals and dolls. She loves to change their outfits by the hour to make sure they are appropriately prepared for each moment of their day. She’ll also take time to create new clothes for them. It started with mermaid tails made of paper. Her animals were beautifully adorned with tails of every color. I wish I had a picture. Then one day when I was sick, she threw a Hello Kitty Party for me to make me feel better. Called to the living room, I found each of her stuff animals adorned with a special Hello Kitty mask and special masks made for her brother William, his lovey Lion, and for me. What a party we had. For Halloween, each of her Barbies had specially crafted costumes, from a tiger to a bluebird to a puppydog. I think there were eight in all. Inspired by a Christmas gift from her Aunt Sarah that included a lesson on sewing through owl pillow making, Abby transitioned to fabric costumes, creating a beautiful new purple gown for her Sofia doll with two buttons no less.

If she’s not changing a dolls outfit or creating costumes or accessories, you can find Abby in the art room (originally our dining room) in all sorts of creative activities. She might be painting, she might be creating a bracelet, or she might be creating a beaded butterfly for a backpack. What I love about her sweet heart is that when she is working on these projects it is most likely with someone else in mind. It’s for her friend Emiko, who she still misses since she transitioned schools two years ago, or perhaps it’s for Caitlin, a sweet friend who we never see enough of. She’s drawing a picture of Isa in a beautiful blue gown or her godsister Ella in green. Maybe she’s made something for me or for her daddy, but I can promise you, every project she works on, she’s thinking of someone else. That makes my heart feel really good, and I’m glad to see that it brings her such joy as well.

There are certain things that Andrew and I strive to teach our children. We have great hopes for them. And although I have worked to provide playful activities for my children and encourage them, I did not teach my children any of these arts of play. These explorations, this creativity, their abilities are unique to their little selves. It is exciting to imagine what these strong focuses and interests might lead to one day.

I can see how my own childhood playfulness has transitioned to part of my adulthood. By trade, I have become a storyteller. I still continue to set the stage so that a fascinating and inspiring story can be told. It may be that I’m prepping a magazine, a webpage, a brochure or a presentation, each crafted with the same precision, care and embellishment that I approached each moss creation as a child. Realizing those playful connections, it makes me want to encourage my children even more to take that time to play, to explore, and to grow because I know it will stay with them and that connection will continue to bring them joy.

For now, I’m thankful that they find happiness in play, that they are able to find focus, that they are able to find success at the completion of a project, and that they also enjoy sharing these gifts with others. William always wants to invite others into his world of play as well as to help others through whatever challenges they find themselves facing. “Come, play with me,” he says. Abby always wants to give to others and bring them joy. “Here, I made this for you,” sweet Abby says with a smile.

So I say, bring on the moss, rocks, and spoons! Encourage the construction paper mermaid tails with string! Champion the Legos made with pattern or by pure ingenuity! Let them play! Let them play! Let them play!

With Love and Light,

LT

Labyrinths and Ladybugs

I love a good walk, especially one that includes the opportunity to gaze at filtered sunlight through the trees, a steady musical beat and my pup happily walking by my side. I can feel the healing and strengthening power with the growing steps as my mind clears and my body breathes more deeply and rids itself of any building toxicity. I find myself thankful that I still have the ability to move my limbs and that my senses enable me to connect fully with the activity and my environment. 

There is another form of walking though that I find even more powerfully stimulating and important for my soul. It is the spiritual practice of walking the labyrinth, a purposefully designed maze of ancient origin designed for a myriad of reasons but mostly focused on journey and centeredness. For me this meditative journey includes focus on my relationship with God and God’s grace in my life and journey. 

I remember the hesitancy with which I approached my first walk. Our church had just purchased a canvas labyrinth and dear sweet Lynda Gayle had taken the time to lead us through a meditation explaining the opportunities for reflection the labyrinth affords each individual along the path. Her words of wisdom included the reminder that for each person a walk upon the labyrinth is unique and also somewhat private. If walking the path with others, we don’t make eye contact, and if we cross paths, we gently move to the side to let others pass. It's ok to pause and take your time. Labyrinth walks are silent and focused, although you’ll sometimes find music added to guided walks to create a calming atmosphere. There is always a way in and a way out, and there are no traps or hidden turns, just the journey. 

Walking the labyrinth is not a daily or weekly practice of mine, although I do hope for this opportunity in the future. For now, I’ve taken the time to walk the labyrinth during times of great transition in my life or when I find myself with the most questions. Each labyrinth walk has been significant.

I’m in Santa Fe, New Mexico to celebrate my dear friend Ebet’s birthday with a special trip. We find ourselves walking the labyrinth in front of the Cathedra Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. I can feel my parents’ presence as they take time to sit and rest and wait for us. My heart fills with joy and comfort when after reaching the center of the labyrinth I watch my friend step confidently into the center and begin her journey outward enabling me to follow. I’m just beginning to realize that this trip is the beginning pages in a new chapter in my life. 

I’m in Santa Fe, New Mexico again, this time at the Museum of International Folk Art. I’ve just finished walking the labyrinth with my daddy and my babies, Abby and William. It was their first walk. We are getting ready to leave when Abby grabs William’s hand and they run back onto the labyrinth. At first I start to call them back, but instead, Daddy and I just sit back and watch. When they reach the center, they laugh and dance holding on to each other’s hands. A sense of relief engulfs me as I give thanks for the friendship and love that they share and will share for a lifetime.

I’m on Sanibel Island in Florida and my sisters and I have met a wonderful new friend on the beach. She has just finished building a four-circuit labyrinth out of shells, seaweed and driftwood that she has found on the beach. Her husband has early onset of Alzheimer’s and walking the labyrinth helps him to reconnect with his memories as well as to stay connected to the moment at hand. She is lovely. He is lovely, and they take great delight in sharing this journey with me and my children. She builds a labyrinth for her husband everywhere that they go.

I’m at Saint Columba Conference Center in Bartlett, Tennessee. After a walk at dawn across misty fields covered in dew, I walk the beautifully natural labyrinth crafted of stone and moss. Afterwards, I stand in the beams of light from the morning sun and reconnect with another powerful moment in the same space. Feeling fully present in the grace of God, I do not want to turn around to leave it, but I know I must. When I finally turn, I find myself joyfully overwhelmed and delighted that I am faced with the same love and light and full feeling, it’s just different scenery. God is everywhere.

I’m at the West Clinic in Memphis, Tennessee. It is Saturday and the buildings are deserted, and I am most grateful for the clinic’s gift of the labyrinth garden. I’m finding myself in one of the most powerfully challenging moments I’ve crossed in my life. I enter the labyrinth sadly and feeling alone. When I finally reach the center, it is the first time I’ve found myself sitting down during a labyrinth walk. I bury my head. After a while, a ladybug lands gently on my arm and suddenly I don’t feel so alone any more. The words and scenes from “Under the Tuscan Sun” fly into my mind. Frances and Katherine are discussing sadness. Katherine explains that when she was a little girl and would fall asleep in the field, she would wake up covered in ladybugs. As Frances continues on her journey, she eventually gives in to enjoying and celebrating the experiences she is having and the people who surround her. As she rests in one of the final moments of the story, love walks into her life and finds a ladybug settling on Frances’ arm. This thought fills me with peace, and I find the strength to stand and continue my journey. I realize and remember, I was never alone in the first place. (I must share that as soon as I wrote this very last thought, my husband sent me a fun and sweet text. My heart is full.)

So whether you’re walking through the neighborhood or you find yourself upon the labyrinth, I highly recommend walks as a reflection and prayerful exercise for your body and soul. 

With love and light,

LT  

Editor’s Note: On my list of labyrinths yet to walk are those at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco, California; Chartres Cathedral near Paris, France; and St. George Episcopal Church in Maple Valley, Washington. I would love your recommendations for other walks as well! Please feel free to share in Love and Light’s comments!