Music and Grace

 Last summer I took another job like the one I wrote about several years ago. Working with great people and immensely enjoying doing what I'm good at, although I was happy to leave when the time came.

I am disappointed that I let this last gig kick in my "type A" behavior so quickly again. I missed summer, the garden went to pot, and I didn't have much fun. I never took the sailing lessons I planned on and didn't bike as much as I planned for my health. I have no one to blame but myself.

I did take pretty good care of my spiritual life this time. I kept to my regular disciplines and groups, and that was a huge help. I read about centering prayer and Buddhism which helped me disengage or detach from situations I would have ruminated about unceasingly. In times of serious duress, I was able to pull myself back into the present moment by practicing mindfulness.

I also got involved with a nonprofit. I loved writing about it and helping build a good website, but in the end, decided that it wasn't my dream. It was someone else's. I've done that before. I'm getting too old to give my time away to help others accomplish their dreams while mine are put a way in a drawer for when I have time. It was a small price to pay to learn more about myself.

My aunt turned 97 earlier this month. She had a stroke in December. We thought it was the end. But she is a fierce woman. A depression era baby and an Army veteran from World War II, her generation doesn't give up easily. She wanted to return to her board and care where she had her own room and belongings and worked unbelievably hard to go back.

Now we're working hard with physical therapists, nurses and caregivers. It's been an up and down experience. Some days it seems that we should just resign ourselves to skilled nursing. The other day the visiting nurse thought my aunt was literally dying. I called our family. Then she woke up and ate her entire lunch and continued her day as though nothing had happened.

Monday when I was so tired, I sat down on the couch in the living room with the caregiver just to hang out for a few minutes. One of the other residents was humming over and over to herself. I asked if that ever got on their nerves. The caregiver said that if it does, she has a small songbook of favorite old songs she can get her to sing. We started singing "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" because I remembered that one from my grandmother. The resident joined right in and knew every word even though she also thought I was her daughter.

We opened the songbook and sang a bunch of the old songs. Pretty soon the other residents in the living room were singing along. They knew all the words. My family will tell you I'm not much of a singer, but that afternoon I felt like one. My voice was clear and straight, and I knew the tunes so well that I was confident. I also knew no one else would hear me except the residents of the care home who don't even know who I am. It's like that old saying "dance like no one is watching you." It was a magical moment, and I am so grateful I was there and not at work.

The next day was hard because I had to run errands for my aunt, help with her exercise and her therapist along with more intimate care giving I never imagined myself doing. As I waited for her caregiver to have a free moment, the "singer" was worrying about some little thing. I helped her with her blanket, and she said she was so lucky to have a daughter like me, that I was so thoughtful and did so many kind things in the world. As she said this, she held my hand in hers and patted it. I told her "thank you," and then I said "I love you too" as I went back to my aunt's room.

That night when I got to my mailbox and saw that a payment I've been waiting for wasn't there, I was disappointed, tired, and still needed to go to the store for dinner. Cooking dinner most nights is sometimes stressful or demanding on top of a long hard day where I've also tried to do my half hour walk and go to the gym. But most nights it's an important ritual that makes life seem more normal.

I fought the parking lot traffic and slumped my way into Whole Foods with my grocery list in my head (this is dangerous). Right away I heard music that didn't sound like it was coming from the speaker system. A saxophone, guitar and drum set up in the front of the store echoed music across the hard floors and open ceiling of the large store.

It immediately made me smile. The music was right up my alley, jazzy and sort of my era. And I love saxophones. I was immediately uplifted. I smiled at every shopper as I pondered the produce and thoughtfully read the tortilla labels (why do they put wheat in corn tortillas now?). I soaked up the lush colors of the cut flowers and chose a checkout stand nearest the music so I could see the small band named "B Sharp" play. It fed my soul and refreshed me.

The musicians were in the middle of a song as I approached with my groceries. I clasped my hands together at my chest and bowed in thanksgiving, dropping a small tip in their jar and walked out smiling into the cold, crisp night air where the large moon lit the night sky. I was grateful for the small graces I could have missed without the years of spiritual practice that helped shape me and lead me to those moments. Music and grace. Amen.

Years Later

Hard to believe it's March 2011 and I haven't written for so long. There have been some wonderful moments of grace in these past months. And, of course, there have been challenges.

Where did the time go? I took at job in Auburn a year ago last January that lasted six months. It was a wonderful job in many ways. I made new friends and got caught up on some office technology. I learned I can still "suit up" and old skills are still useful too. Skills like working well with others.

That job went away because of a Federal snag and I was o.k. with that. I'd done what I came there to do and the long hours and commute were not easy. I did feel my 63 years during some of that experience. Then I jumped into a political campaign and ran for an office. If it's not worth doing right, it's not worth doing at all, so I gave it my best on a limited budget with two bad feet that apparently do not like precinct walking at all. Came in 4th out of 22, so I got elected, but the measure to create the city whose city council I would have served on failed. As I tell my friends, I'm citycouncilwoman-elect in perpetuity. Or until someone else comes along and gets the new city going.

I put my business aside for that experience and now I'm giving it CPR. I'm very grateful opportunities are springing up, and if I just show up and do the work, business will be fine.


But I seem to be stuck in a few areas. I lack discipline to accomplish as much as I could each day. I still hate going to the gym and each day I have to force myself to go. I'm always glad when I', through, but ugh, it's even hard forcing myself to put on the gym clothes. I know I need to do this, it's the best thing I can do for myself right now, but I miss the old days of riding my bike along the river for 10 miles five days a week. It just doesn't work out right now, but it was a healthier thing to do in many ways.

Spiritually, I seem to growing again, which is nice. I was pretty stuck for a while. Now contemplative prayer and deeper reading of current authors is giving me a sense that I'm not alone in my situation. I don't think God ever left, God is everywhere all the time, but the God so many people seem so sure of doesn't fit with my idea of a loving God or a truly intimate relationship with God.

My run for office made me want to commit to improving our community, but it is a daunting task with new massage parlors and marijuana dispensaries and grow houses popping up everywhere as long-standing businesses I grew up with close their doors.

I don't know where this blog will take me, but it's time to get it moving again. Too many people encouraged me along the way. Their support and friendship during the years I wrote weekly columns are a big part of the reason I can actually call myself a writer today. I begin and end with gratitude for all the gifts I have been given and prayers for the homeless, the victims in Japan and people in countries where new wars seem to show up with regularity. May we all know peace in this lifetime. peace, pat

Christmas Eve 2008

Okay, it looks like I’ll have to type this one in very large print because I can’t find my computer glasses. The glasses are unique because I only need one lens so I popped the right one out.

I shouldn’t be surprised at this point on Christmas Eve, that I’m behind and can’t find my glasses. I still have Christmas stocking gifts to wrap and stockings to stuff. I thought I was off the hook because our older daughter is 31, but I was wrong.

I was pretty organized this year and thought I would finally arrive at one late night Christmas Evening service without feeling frazzled and looking like I’ve been dragged through a knothole. Last minute details (assigned to others, I might add) fell through and I found myself at Macy’s on Christmas Eve. late afternoon looking for the “perfect gift.” The only thing really perfect was the prices.

But driving home tonight after one last run to the store, I realized that the parts of Christmas that are most important to me all happened. I got to spend time with both daughters making tamales and watch them revert to their old childhood patterns of sibling rivalry. Some things never change, but I see now that it is all right. Especially when one of the girls stuffed blueberries up her nostrils and we laughed until we cried. I won’t tell you how old she is.

I took a homemade turkey pie and some other good food stuff to a long-time friend who is older and doesn’t get out much anymore. I was the one who felt blessed by the opportunity to stop and visit, get a hug and a bristly kiss and know we had connected once more.

Today I also took a friend out to lunch who was suffering from self-inflicted houseboundness. She didn’t want to go, but I kind of nudged and we were both glad we had the chance to eat a good meal and catch up. I thought I was doing it for her, but I appreciated having someone to talk with too.

I made a stop at a Walgreen’s for one more last-minute gift and ran into a dear friend. She is someone I admire very much and also someone who has had a very difficult life and yet she perseveres. I had written her a Christmas card to tell her I loved her and she said she hadn’t read it yet. We hugged, kissed and said “I love you” in the midst of the store and for a moment we understood each other’s unspoken needs and parts of life we wish were different.

If I hadn’t stopped, or it had been a minute one way or the other, I wouldn’t have run into her and it was such a gift in the midst of the Christmas wrap aisle at Walgreen’s.

This is where grace comes in. I don’t think the moments of unexpected joy, beauty, nature or what others would call a coincidence are anything but little gifts from one who loves us. I wish you all many moments of grace in the upcoming year and I wish you the wisdom to recognize it and be thankful when you experience grace.

Gratitude

Letters for Susan

It was good to see you last week. I’ve missed writing the little columns. My last one was July 2007. You made me realize that I still want to write them. I’m going to start again with a blog spot I haven’t been using for anything. I’ m not sure how often I’ll write, but at least once a week because it feels good to start thinking about what I want to write about again. I set it up when I had a client and then the work was too stupid, so I quit. I’m not usually a quitter but I have less patience for stupidity and time-wasting than I used to. I do try to be nicer to people than I used to be because it seems like life is much harder lately and an extra smile or pleasant word won’t kill me and might be good for me.

It seems like we’re living in a very difficult time no matter where I look. The news is not often very cheery. Christmas used to be more fun. We could burn fires in our fireplaces without worrying about the air police. I understand the need to reduce pollution. My background is in energy conservation, but it would be nice to have some good news wouldn’t it?

When I think back about the months when I was recuperating and couldn’t do anything for myself, I realize how little control we have over anything and how most of the things I thought were so important weren’t. The house didn’t fall down because things didn’t get done my way. The garden suffered but gardens change and evolve anyhow, so now I have a different garden. It’s the same with some of my friendships. People I thought would stay in touch while I was out of circulation didn’t, but other friendships deepened and I treasure them more.

So I try to find the bright spots and listen to music that soothes me or escape into books and do centering prayer. I should have done that tonight instead of eating nearly an entire bag of gingersnaps that aren’t going to be kind to me later on tonight. I don’t know what got into me, but I just felt a little crazy and went for them. I guess I’d better not buy those anymore.

It’s getting late, time to go home and escape into a book. Tonight the word is gratitude. I have much to be grateful for and I need to remember that when I get home and the bathroom is all torn up from a shower leak and the house is cold because Jim sets the thermostat very low in the evening. I’ll slide into my flannel nightgown and then stick to my flannel sheets like one of those storyboards we used to have in Sunday school and think of your house all warm and cozy. Love and peace, pat

p.s. Here are some photos I took of our pets today. Elmo the cat especially enjoyed the photo session. Can you tell how happy he is?