A Thing of Beauty 2018

Dear UD,

I've been thinking about you a lot lately. Still missing you. Still miss talking to you. Still missing family parties at your place. It’s Apple Butter Day weekend, and you are not here. In fact, mom’s been ill so much lately, she didn’t even go. I’m still in Florida and busy with too many classes, and it’s crazy that my side of the family wasn’t even represented at Apple Butter Day this year.

Since I started writing you these letters three years ago, I’ve been telling you about the darkness falling in the world nowadays, the darkness in America that’s emerging again. I keep hoping that someday there will be a shift, and there won’t be that much evil to share.

2018 and migrant children are in cages in America.

October 2018 and, along with ten other victims, a 97-year-old woman was gunned down while worshipping in her synagogue. Here, in an American city. While she wasn't a Holocaust Survivor as first reported, she was alive during that terrible time, and she survived and grew and loved and lived until finally taken too soon by hate.

Uncle David, you said wherever we go, God is there. And I know He is. But sometimes when I read the headlines or scroll down my Facebook news, it’s hard to remember His love and goodness. I don’t see how people can be so horrible, hateful, horrid.

November is here again. Four years ago, I wrote that “a Thing of Beauty is combining gratitude with seeing things in a new way and with authenticity; it’s living in the moment and acknowledging what is (good and bad) and reinventing what life gives us.” And now, more than ever, we need to look for a Thing of Beauty. Something that we can reimagine as beautiful, an act of kindness, something we're thankful for. In the midst of the violence, the fighting, the political antics, and the hate that we are reminded of every day in the media, we must find the beauty, the wonder, the truth. And so this year, I will again express a Thing of Beauty, but I will also share a quote or poem to combat white supremacy and hate in all its forms.

“It’s utterly impossible for me to build my life on a foundation of chaos, suffering and death. I see the world being slowly transformed into a wilderness, I hear the approaching thunder that, one day, will destroy us too, I feel the suffering of millions. And yet, when I look up at the sky, I somehow feel that everything will change for the better, that this cruelty too shall end, that peace and tranquility will return once more. In the meantime, I must hold on to my ideals. Perhaps the day will come when I’ll be able to realize them!" Anne Frank

 “It’s difficult in times like these: ideals, dreams and cherished hopes rise within us, only to be crushed by grim reality. It’s a wonder I haven’t abandoned all my ideals, they seem so absurd and impractical. Yet I cling to them because I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” Anne Frank

“I don’t think of all the misery but of the beauty that still remains.” Anne Frank

If Anne could still see beauty while in hiding for two years, then I can find it too. Today and every day this month, I will search for beauty, love, kindness, gratitude, goodness…..

Love, Rach

The World Is Too Much With Us

Dear UD,

Around 1802, William Wordsworth wrote “the world is too much with us” partly to express how overwhelming everything feels sometimes and partly in criticism of how the Industrial Revolution led people towards a life consumed with material things and work and away from nature and the spiritual life. How little could anyone imagine back then how he got it so right.

In the past couple of weeks, the Eastern Puma has become extinct, and the last Northern White male Rhino has died while giraffes have gone on the endangered species list. I can't imagine a world without these creatures in it.

On another level, in meetings and emails and news headlines and social media posts, I see hatred and violence and tyranny working its way through our country. It angers and frightens me.

Also, I keep reading or hearing about too many people dying suddenly for no reason too young. That is sad and scary.

And I'm grading research papers where too many college students do not know how to write a clear sentence or how to follow directions or how to think critically enough to write a focused thesis statement or how to slow down for a moment to get it right. It worries me for the next generation—not only the world we leave them but the lack of skills we leave them with.

Uncle David, it's your birthday month and almost exactly one month from the day I received the call three years ago, the call that you were gone from this world, the call that shattered my world. Three years and I still miss you so much. Sometimes the ache of the loss is too much. But that's personal. And selfish. Because I wouldn't want you to see this horrible world right now. But I still want you here, and I still need you and still miss you. Three years ago, yet in this moment the loss feels too fresh all over again.

So I start a letter because I want to tell you all about it. Because I know you were so full of love that you would still see some good in the world right now.

It's spring, and I remember that you would be outside hunting for buds and feeding birds and walking your dogs and delighting in spring bulbs and flowers.

I have a 12-hour day of classes and grading. But tomorrow, I promise to go outside and sit in nature for a little while. And I will gaze in wonder at the beauty around me. Let it fill me up so that I might go out with kindness and some joy and be a blessing to others, like you were to so many.

Love, Rach

A Thing of Beauty: two years later

“A thing of beauty is a joy for ever” ~John Keats

November approaches again and of late I greet the month with part dread, part joy, part appreciation, and part hope. It's the month of my birth, and, of course, Thanksgiving, so I generally like to share daily notes of blessings during the month. Two years ago, though, I did not feel any gratitude, having lost a grandpa, dad, and uncle in succession within less than a year. Still in deep mourning, I could not find my way to thankfulness. Yet I wanted to try, and, more, I wanted to honor the men our family had lost.

Two years later, and I continue this tradition to honor them.

Two years later, and I still find feeling gratitude difficult, almost a chore, something I know I should do and even something I know is true when it comes down to it. This life is a gift, a miracle, and every minute there are thousands of microscopic reasons to express thankfulness. I know this. I see this. I appreciate this.

And still…

In the past two years, I have lost several more people who were special to me. It’s hard to be in this world without them. We will never again be who we were before losing them, and I feel such a deep sadness, anger, and fear inside now. The sorrow permeates everything in this new world, new normal, new me, and the anxiety is easy to see—too many awful things happening in our country, in the world, all the time now. But I didn’t realize the rage until last week when I was triggered into a memory of the moment my mom called to tell me that my uncle had died. If I think about it, I can still feel that moment and my body’s reaction as if it is happening right now. And, when I thought about it last week, I was livid that UD died, that the doctors didn’t catch it in time and help him, that God allowed it to happen, that we have to live in this world without him now.

Two years later, and I’m still finding my way through this new normal.

Gratitude is an attitude, a perspective that we choose, or not. And I want to choose it. But, how to do so in the midst of the grief, fury, and fear.

The online dictionary defines gratitude as “the quality of being thankful; readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness.” I am ready to “return kindness” when I can find it. Yes, I know that there are still many kind people out there, but in the past few years, acts of kindness appear few and far between. UD had a spirit of love and a kind, giving heart, and we all still miss him so much.

In my blog entry two years ago when I started this tradition, I wrote, “A Thing of Beauty is combining gratitude with seeing things in a new way and with authenticity; it’s living in the moment and acknowledging what is (good and bad) and reinventing what life gives us. This reminds me of Naomi Shihab Nye’s poem, “Valentine for Ernest Mann” where the narrator sees beauty and connection in the eyes of skunks. This I feel I can do. I can look at what is, whether I like it or not, whether it’s ugly or bizarre, and find beauty or create meaning out of the muck. Like a lotus flower, I can find a way to blossom out of the mud….A Thing of Beauty is just that: to approach life with the “openness” and sense of “wonder” in order to reveal meaning.”

And last year, I wrote of how I needed this, needed to focus for a few minutes every day on something positive, on seeing beauty, noticing blessings, and acknowledging kindness.

So, once again, I will find “a thing of beauty” each day to share. I pray that it revives my spirits and that it influences others along the way. I invite you to find a thing of beauty in your life and share it with us. 

Running on Empty, Running on Stuffed

Extremes are not healthy.

An empty fridge, down to canned soup for supper. Gas on empty, rummage for enough change to pump one gallon of gas. A pile of bills, waiting to be paid. Hungry children searching for something to pack for lunch. Vitamins that keep a single, working mother running…gone. One dollar and thirty-five cents left in the bank account. Pay day changed…moved to two weeks away.    

I lived that scenario last month and can tell you that it is not fun, which is obviously an understatement. While we were able to receive much needed help, I felt stressed and anxious. Depressed that we were in that situation. Embarrassed that we had to ask for help. Worried about how it would all work out.   

Extremes are not healthy.

          Seriously, having nothing (no money, no gas, no food, no toilet paper, no cat food) sucks. 

          Yet is it fair for me to say that we had “nothing,” for we had a roof over our heads, each other, our cats, two TVs, two old but working computers, an old but working vehicle, three cell phones, numerous movies, books, articles of clothing, etc. 

          And while living this “nothing” and running on empty, we were richly blessed.  How were we blessed?  Let me count the ways.

          First of all, we learned how kind and compassionate people are. For example, a friend baked a delicious and healthy meal for us one night, and we dined on ham, potatoes, pineapples, plums, and carrots for days. Another friend filled up my gas tank and then took me to the movies because she wanted to watch Les Miserables.

Second, we discovered that God takes care of us, sometimes in the most extraordinary ways. For instance, after the movie with my friend, we stopped at the bathroom where a stranger handed me a $50 gift card to The Melting Pot. I suggested that this woman use it herself, and she related that her granddaughter had already left town and she didn’t really like it and was happy that I would enjoy it. Later that week, T-mobile called me out of the blue to lower our monthly bill and during that phone conversation agreed to replace our old cell phones with new ones (so we have the same exact style but working phones!).

Third, we became creative with using what we have and not wasting so much. One thing I am extremely grateful for:  the girls have learned to eat and enjoy leftovers. They would eat them previously but would grumble or complain or whine or ask for something else or suggest eating out.  Now they are often eager to eat up what’s in the fridge before buying more or asking for more.

Fourth, we realized a greater appreciation for what we have.    

Fifth, we received a stronger ability to live in the now.  My mantra during that time was this:  Right now, I have enough for what we need.  It was true.  In each moment, what I had was all I needed. 

Finally, we gained perspective, and as a former therapist used to say, “Perspective is everything.”

Extremes are not healthy.

As soon as payday came, I rushed to the gas station and filled up the car before heading to Publix and Target for groceries and necessities. I filled up the fridge and cabinets, ordered Reliv vitamins, and paid bills. 

Words cannot express how good it felt to fill up the gas tank rather than only put in a few dollars and to fill it up with my own money rather than relying on a friend. How abundant it felt to open the fridge and see it bursting with healthy food and watch the girls pack Nutella and peanut butter sandwiches along with cheese sticks, yogurt, pretzels, and fruit. I felt abundant, blessed, relieved, and a sense of wellbeing swamped me.

Extremes are not healthy.

I love the feeling of wealth and security that comes with having more than enough, yet I realize that it’s dulled us (our country, our society) in some ways.  As a nation, we are overfed and undernourished.  We are spoiled and rotting.  We are overweight and slow.  We are running on stuffed.

It was so easy to fall back into old patterns until I had to throw away half a bag of spinach. While that’s only a dollar fifty worth of food, it reminded me of just over a week ago when that dollar fifty would have been so vital.  And I hate considering how much food we’ve thrown away over the years. How much have all of us wasted?  How much food, time, talent, energy, people? 

I remember a favorite Ray Bradbury quote of mine from Fahrenheit 451, “Well, after all, this is the age of the disposable tissue. Blow your nose on a person, wad them, flush them away, reach for another, blow, wad, flush. Everyone using everyone else's coattails.”

Being alive is a blessing, having the basics is a miracle, and having abundance, more than enough, and convenience to go with it…that is a wonder. 

The blessings we received while running on empty and the conclusions I’ve come to while running on stuffed all lead up to something I’ve been wanting and working towards for years…balance.  

Balance is the key.  I don’t want to run on empty, but I no longer want to run on stuffed either.  I am grateful for both experiences because knowing what they feel like inspires compassion, kindness, and understanding; however, I am ready for balance in my life, and I know balance comes from self-discipline. 

That means planning ahead and only getting what we truly need for the week (including a few treats) and then using what is in the house before buying more. That means learning to be okay with a fridge half full rather than overflowing. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t be spontaneous and meet a friend for lunch, for example, but it means that I am aware. If I make that choice, what are the consequences? What am I gaining and what is the cost? 

And this scenario applies to all areas of life. How am I balancing work with play? Writing my words with reading other people's words? Time with family, friends, and God? Sleep with everything on the mental To-Do List.  Screen time with time unplugged?  

Where do you find yourself on the spectrum between running on empty and running on stuffed? What choices have you been making? What choices will you make in the future?

Beauty, Truth, Love

     Yesterday I was wrapped in a work bubble, completely concentrating on finishing tasks for fall semester so that I could enter final grades and begin prep work for spring semester, so I didn’t learn about the Sandy Hook tragedy until late in the afternoon.  I didn’t finish working until late evening, though, so Facebook and the internet were the only sources available until this morning when I watched the news shows…and cried.  It is unbelievable, disturbing, and heartbreaking.

          After an hour, I turned the TV off because I do not want to be inundated by the media, especially with something so distressing.  I cannot even imagine the pain and horror of the parents and families who lost someone yesterday morning in this senseless tragedy.  I am so sorry. 

          I’ve heard people blame guns, while others blame the fact that God is not in schools like they want.  For this or other cruel acts, some place the blame on parents or the government or schools or technology or lack of morals or the media or violence in our culture.  I, too, want to look anywhere but in the mirror, yet Michael Jackson is right that we need to start with the “man in the mirror” and, as Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

The truth is we are all to blame, and we are all innocent.  Yes, there are serious conversations we need to have about issues like gun control, the public school system, bullying, and the increase in violent acts like school shootings, especially one so horrendous as to be at an elementary school.

But right now, I want to focus on simple yet vastly important issues like how we communicate with ourselves and others, how we treat ourselves and our children, how we nourish and fuel our minds, bodies, and souls, and how we are all connected. 

Today, I am filled with questions.  What do we put into our minds, bodies, and souls every day?  Who are the five people we are around the most?  How do we treat those who cannot do anything to us, including our pets and children?  What do we believe about ourselves and each other?  What ambiance we have created in our homes, wherever we live?

The answers to these questions are so simple yet so complex, and they create the world we live in, the life we live.  It’s all about choice.  Every day, every moment, we choose what to watch, what to listen to, what to eat, who to hang out with, what to believe, what to do.  I know it’s not so simple as I struggle with the choices I make in each moment every day, yet I do know that it is also that simple as choice equals our lives.

We must start and continue with these conversations rather than simply going back to our daily lives, ignoring issues, or postponing action.  Today is the day to begin.  I read a poem about kindness today that blew me away.  Today is the day for kindness, compassion, giving, loving.  Today is the day to use words that build, choose thoughts and actions that encourage, and fuel yourself with images, people, words that foster beauty, truth, love. 

We must come together:  parents, teachers, artists, musicians, politicians, reporters, leaders, teenagers, children.  Together we can find answers, take action, and create authenticity of this human experience.

Nothing, nothing matters more than those we love.  I am reminded of words my dad once said, “When it comes down to it, all you’ve got is your family.”  So, today, if you are lucky enough to have the chance, spend quality time with those you love…listen to them, build them up, hug them, love them. 

Simple words, simple acts, simple choices.  But those simple things can make a difference, can mean everything.