The end of year one. The start of something deeper.

My husband and I are coming to the end of our first year of marriage (although we've decided to continue to calling ourselves newlyweds indefinitely!  It's just too much fun to give up!)

We have not had the typical first year of marriage.  Instead of just two of us, my new husband went from a lifetime of being single to suddenly having a wife...and kids...and a dog...and two cats. And then there are the scrapbook supplies and the books...Especially the books (Hi, I'm Lindsay, and I'm a biblioholic...) I know he didn't count on the books! (Although to be fair, if he had just counted the bookcases in my old place before we got married....)

The economy and jobs meant that we didn't go from the wedding to a honeymoon.  In fact, we are still waiting for that...maybe later this year.   And then in January, my husband had to move to another state to take a job so we are temporarily living in separate states and only see each other for about one weekend a month.  THAT sucks...seriously.

In other ways, we are typical.  We've spent time this year getting to know what it's like to live with each other.  We've started learning how to meet each other needs, and balance that with our own wants and needs.

We've negotiated the important issues like how to load glasses in the dishwasher, and exactly how long it really takes to get everyone out the door and into the van.  We've talked about the house we want, the trips we hope to take, and the things we want to do together in the years ahead. And it has been getting better and better all year.

But the other day, something big happened.  

My husband is home for one of our all-too-brief visits, and we were talking.  The subject doesn't matter.  But I was so certain I was just plain correct about something.  You know that feeling, right?  You are just absolutely sure that you have all the facts lined up, and that there is NO WAY you could be wrong.  Yeah.

And then he started to talk about the subject from his point of view  And I was stunned into silence.  I heard the words, but I heard something else that meant so much more....I HEARD his love.  The subject wasn't love.  But the words were.  The ideas he was sharing came from a place of love.  His ideas were different than mine to start.  And then he brought in what I had been saying, and pointed out how we were BOTH right.  And BOTH wrong.  Suddenly, being right didn't matter at all.

At that moment, when I sat there listening to his words, and the meaning behind them, the love I felt grew infinitely deeper. I actually felt the the connection between us strengthen.

In that moment, my love for him went from what I THOUGHT was a lot to something I never even imagined.  

Something so small...the discussion wasn't about anything life-shattering.  Something so big...the words my husband lovingly chose shifted everything so dramatically.

Monday will be our First Wedding Anniversary.  But you know what?  I already got the very best gift.

Remembering a letter...

Maybe it's because I'm watching "A Room with a View", where letters fly back and forth across Europe and England.  Or maybe it's because I've just written some Valentines to mail instead of sending electronic hearts and flowers.  But I am thinking about letters...real letters, not e-mails or text messages or IM conversations.

No, I mean a real paper letter in an envelope, that arrives in the mail, amid the ads and bills.  A letter awaited, and checked for day after day, or a letter that arrives unexpectedly.

A letter can be tucked in a purse or pocket, and taken somewhere to read later...or ripped open and read on the spot, and then re-read again and again. Yes, there are a few letters one dreads to open...a note that's sure to be a "Dear John", or a letter that is sure to hold bad news or anger. But most letters, even short ones, are wonderful to find amid the otherwise dull mail.

Upstairs in my bedroom, there's a large binder filled with letters -- letters from friends while I was in high school and college.  They pretty much stop at that point...e-mail took the place of letters.  But there are wonderful treasures there...descriptions of new adventures, new boyfriends (or the dumping of old ones!), letters from two friends who were living in Europe and sent me descriptions so vivid I felt that I was there, exploring old streets and new works of art. Each letter carries the writer's handwriting, many are decorated with little drawings and last-minute added thoughts around the edges, with arrows pointing to where they would have gone. Had those letters been e-mails, they would have been long since deleted, or at very best (and even this is so rare) printed out and stored as impersonal print on a page. 

I miss letters.  I miss writing them, and I miss receiving them. I miss holding them, and re-reading them for details missed the first time around -- or the second. In the movie, at this moment, one of the characters, is reading a letter -- she's tucked in bed, pillows piled up high behind her, the lamp lit. She opens the envelope and with a wonderful sound of paper cracking, smiles and settles back to read.  No Netbook or iPad on the planet can match that moment.

Cool breeze, creativity blooming

I walked outside this morning to find....

A cool breeze!  A real, honest-to-goodness, cool breeze!  Really cool!  Like maybe 20-25 degrees cooler than a week or so ago!  For the first time in months!

And with the cool weather comes....


Long walks - around my neighborhood, in the park, at the beach

Big pots of creamy homemade soup for supper

Home-baked bread

Lazy afternoons outside with a good book and a cup of tea

Feeling good when I put on a soft hoodie

...and creativity!  Time to pull out the scrapbooks and art supplies and paints!

100 Things That Make Me Happy

Lovely, sweet-scented pink roses -- just one or an armful

I was reading Karen Ruby's blog, "A Meaningful Existence" and saw her list of 100 things that make me happy.  What a wonderful exercise to remind us of things we love, things for which we can be grateful, and things we may be neglecting or need to work on adding to our lives.  So here is my list...please create your own, and then send me a link.  I would love to read everyone's list...

This is also my Pink Saturday post for "How Sweet the Sound", because I've added photos of the things on this list that are pink...a little color amid the words!

A hug from someone I love
Walking on the beach at night
Singing along with a favorite song in the car
Being greeted at the door by my cats and dog
Waking up to a view of trees
Windy days
Having time to sit at a café and read without watching the clock
Working on my art projects

Image from candyland22

Scrapbooking
Figuring out what's wrong with a line of computer code
Finding a great new mystery writer
A new book from a favorite writer
Listening to live jazz
Getting a REAL letter in the mail
Getting a flower/flowers from someone
Cottage gardens

Learning something new that changes my view of other things
Moments of spiritual connection
Seeing someone I love across a crowded room
Kisses
Berry season
Houses with tons of natural light
Foggy mornings
The smell of fresh cut grass
Clean sheets

Image from architheque

Handmade quilts on a bed
British comedy
Well-worn wood furniture (primitives)
Old books
Old book stores
Long walks in the city
Long walks in the countryside
Seeing cows in a field
Gardenias
Watching a butterfly flying
Photographing the details on old buildings
Country fairs
Quaint old cottages

Image from Avignon-et-Provence

Quaint new cottages
Curving, hilly roads
Wide roads with lots of green
The first few notes of the overture before a show
Being backstage when the overture starts
Slices of crisp green apple and sharp cheddar cheese
Holding hands
Waking up with the one I love
Rearranging books on a shelf
Cooking without a plan
Cello music
Jazz quartets
Following a fish around while snorkeling and pretending I'm a fish, too
Poetry that does not rhyme
Wearing soft cotton clothes
Laying on the grass and watch the light change through the leaves
Seeing pictures in clouds with my kids
Flying a kite
Seeing old people holding hands
Finding just the right word for something I'm writing
Keeping up on my blog
Waking up after having a good dream
Playing a good game of tennis
Questions that really make me think
Being a mom
Being married to Lance
Petting the soft fur on my puppy's head

Her tongue is pink!  So it counts! 

Going to a football game or baseball game
The smell of spice, pumpkin or autumn-scented candles
Stepping on crunchy leaves
Having a cat on my lap while I read
Having a challenging new assignment at work
Getting rid of things I do not need
Finishing all the laundry and seeing the clean piles
Making a pie with a woven top and seeing it come out of the oven
Finding a good new blog to follow
The feeling of long silk skirts against my skin
Buying pretty shoes
Having a clean, organized purse
Really getting into a prayer-mindfulness
Getting a difficult yoga position right
Seeing the message in a Torah portion (which may not be the one others see!)
Cool evenings
Snuggling under the covers to go to sleep on a chilly night
Putting on socks when my feet are cold

Wearing soft hoodies
Having extra money in the bank at the end of the month
Going out for breakfast
Al fresco dining for any meal
Getting a new lip gloss in a really pretty shade
Candlelit dinners
"Blue time" (twilight)

Going to silly, tacky tourist traps





Fresh air while I sleep
Watching snow fall while cozy indoors
Starting a new journal
Going to the Farm Show & petting all the cows
Walking in Mount Gretna, Pa after dark
Having a my kids and their friends all in the house
Watching a ballet
Daydreaming films scenes or dances while listening to music
Getting "lost" while driving and turning it into an adventure

There is much to be said for knowing what makes us happy...the simple things, the big things, the silly things, the profound things.  Make your list.  Post it somewhere you can see it.  Share it.  Check in with yourself now and again to make sure you're spending the time you need to keep yourself happy.  

Inspired, creating, dreaming

Little golden boxes filled with sweet treats...

Fairy furnishings to peek from among the trees...

Wind chimes to sing in the breeze...

Magical lights and magic wands...

Messages of welcome, filled with flowers...

Magic, magic, magic...

Friday Five -- a Bit Late!

I just discovered that one of the blog rings to which I belong has a Friday Five --- a set of questions to journal/blog. So cool...so here is last week's post, and here are my answers. I'd love to hear from y'all, too on these...if you put these on your blog, be sure to send me a link!

This week's questions are about an ideal get-away to somewhere far from the daily stresses of life....

Describe your location, in general or specific terms

Warm but not hot. Breezy. Green. Lots and lots of water. No bugs. Time (no real deadline to leave.) Money not a worry. Access to diving gear, snorkles, sailboat. Someone special with me. Or a very good friend at least.

and....


1) What book(s) will you bring? Whatever book I am reading when I go (today that is Jules and Jim), a journal to write in, and something inspirational (probably something on meditation)

2) What music accompanies you? Vivaldi, R Carlos Nakai

3) What essentials of everyday living must you take (as in the health and beauty aids aisle variety)? Shampoo, soap, lotion, deodorant, and lip balm

4) What technological gadgets if any, will you take with you or do you leave it all behind? I would take something on which to play my music, a book light for nighttime journaling on the beach

5) What culinary delights will you partake in while there? Fresh fruit -- lots of it, all cut up and ready for me to snack. Mangoes, peaches, apricots, nectarines, oranges, berries, guava, passion fruit. Nuts...almonds, pistachios, walnuts, pine nuts. Homemade whole grain bread. preferably with dried fruit and nuts in it. And cool, clear water with a bit of lime.

As a bonus question, what makes for a perfect day on vacation for you? Beautiful scenery, warm weather, cool breezes, sunshine, friends or even better, someone I love.

Going home to someplace you never knew was home

(Written in Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania)

A year ago this past April, I loaded up my car and my two daughters and the most precious of our possessions and left Central Pennsylvania for Florida. I am from Florida. It's the place where I grew up, where I know every road and shortcut and the best beaches and the best places to play hooky from work on a beautiful day (thank you Pam Houston for teaching me how important it is to know where to misbehave!)

I was never very happy in Pennsylvania...I knew that the people who lived here were generally from here and I thought they had no interest in newcomers. I saw the sky as usually grey, and winters felt cold, damp and long. I was glad to get back to Florida, to the land of beaches and palm trees and festivals outdoors all winter long. I've been happy there. My career is doing well, my daughter who faced the challenges of Juvenile Arthritis is doing better and both girls are excelling in school.

Friday I came back to Pennsylvania for my son's high school graduation. He lives with his dad up here. And since I arrived, I've discovered something disconcerting.

This place that I could not wait to leave in the rear view mirror, feels like home.

I am confused.

Or rather I was. As I sat high atop a hill overlooking the green valleys and farm land below me, a cool fresh breeze blowing the trees gently, I realized the truth.

View looking down over Elizabethtown

It was not the place I did not like. It was my life in this place.

When I lived here, I lived in a big 227 year old house that needed an endless amount of work. There were electrical, plumbing, heating and maintenance challenges. There were always too many things to fix to ever allow for spending money on things of beauty or comfortable furniture. The walls and ceiling and floors seeped 200 plus years of dust and dirt no matter how often I swept or vacuumed or wiped or scrubbed.

In the summer the house was hot. In the winter it was cold.

And for most of the time here, I was in a very bad marriage. It was sad and ugly and destructive to my self esteem and happiness. Peace and happiness were elusive.

And last but certainly not least, I was broke and financially dependent.

The combination of all of those factors made me hate where I lived. Made me run as soon as I finally gathered the strength and the money to go.

And now I am back. Visiting. And perhaps finally seeing this place for all it really is instead of as a part of my miserable life.

View from the Masonic Home

It is beautiful.

In my haste to escape, I overlooked so much of the beauty. I turned my back on good friends and even more potential good friends I could not see through my struggles.

For the past three days, I have been the recipient of countless hugs. In stores, restaurants, schools and homes, I have been asked over and over if I am back. Even the woman who handed me my iced tea at Wendy's was glad to see me and asked where I had been.

Without even realizing, I became a part of this town. I had a home. I just never knew it until now.

I cannot regret leaving. I think I needed to go away to find my footing, to understand my strengths and weaknesses and learn to trust myself. I need to go to the place I always thought of as home through all my years away to find out where I already had a home.

Is it time to come home for good?

I am such a bad mommy, but the music was so good!

I was going to be good the rest of this week. Honestly I was. I was going to come home after work and make the girls a lovely dinner and do laundry and read and work. I was going to get the girls into bed early.

Honestly!

I was going to!!!

But I didn't.

Last night I worked late, raced home, grabbed the girls and went to hear music with T, and her friends from the senior living community and my friend G who has been so busy I haven't seen her in almost two weeks even though we live on the same street!

The band was excellent, the evening weather was even better. We listened and talked and sipped tea(me), soda (my girls) or coffee (everyone else.) We laughed at stories. My little one and I played a game of chess. My older daughter chatted with far away friends on my laptop. We ate Taco Bell for dinner.

I meant to be good. But the music and the evening were too tempting. The time grew late and the music went on, and the stories flowed.

I am such a bad mommy, I thought as I tucked my daughter in at 10:30pm instead of the 9 pm I'd planned. But then I thought of the years ahead when a night spent doing chores will be long forgotten, but a night spent listening to music and talking and dancing around a fountain on a warm Florida evening just might be a treasured memory.

Maybe I'm not such a bad mommy after all...

Free music, poetry and comedy with a cup of tea

Last night, I did not work.

I did not write.

I did not do laundry.

I did not do research.

I did not apply for jobs or brainstorm articles.

I did not even cook.

Last night, I sat curled up in a chair at a local coffee house, a cup of hot Chai on the table in front of me, my little daughter curled up in the arm chair across from me, a new friend next to me, my older daughter a few feet away busy on my laptop, and I enjoyed local musicians, stand up comics, poets and actors. We sat there from about 8 pm until closing at 11. Drank tea or hot chocolate. And listened.

The performances were amazing. Such incredible talent. And they were performing for us, the audience, sitting in a small coffee house. I was overcome with the sheer joy of it.

For more years than I care to recall, I lived in rural Pennsylvania, where events such as this never happened. Where coffee houses served coffee, and closed before 9 pm. Without music (except the canned variety), comedy or poetry. And I missed it. But until last night, I didn't realize how much.

Since returning home to Florida, I have enjoyed weekly free outdoor concerts only a few blocks from my house. Jazz, country, rock, blues. Sidewalk concerts on weekends. Wednesday night bands. Belly-dancers by the fountain in front of the Taverna. Concerts on the beach, in the parks, and now in the coffee house. I have rediscovered the joy I feel when I listen to live music.

Yes, last night was a school night. And as a good mommy, I probably should have had my girls home and tucked into bed by 9 pm. But how can an evening of tv and early sleep compare to a night spent listening to music and poetry? They experienced slam and traditional poetry. Rap without music. Poetry recited with music. Original dramatic pieces. One very brave man's very first stab at stand up. Wonderful guitar and vocals, including a 14 year old who did a Greenday song with incredible skill. These are experiences I hope they will always remember. A start on their own lifetime of magical moments when they sit in front of a stage and take in the words or the music.

Tonight I will work. I will cook a nice dinner, and do laundry. Homework will be done right away. And after the girls go to sleep, I'll pull out my laptop and work. I may even watch a little tv. But in among my nights at home, our nights at home, I want to make sure there are enough nights like last night, where the only work we do is to listen. And make memories.

Happiness is a choice

Last night I was on the phone with my good friend, M, who is currently trapped in the cultural wasteland somewhere outside of Jackson, Mississippi. Our conversations cover everything from sports and films to corporate politics and women's equality.

In the course of the conversation, I happened to mention (somewhere in the midst of a discussion about both epistimology and the changeover in his company from mostly male managers to mostly female managers), that I felt that I had been extremely lucky in my life so far. That stopped the conversation we had been having, as he tried to determine how I defined luck, and what I meant by "extremely" lucky.

After some debating we finally came to an agreement that "luckiness", as I defined it meant fortunate events or outcomes that occur regardless of merit. They are events neither earned nor deserved (nor conversely, undeserved.) He proposed a scale from about one to ten to measure my degree of luckiness, with extremely lucky falling somewhere around an eight. Maybe a nine. Hard to pin it down exactly.

Then he pressed me for why I felt extremely lucky. I recounted a privileged childhood, full of riding lessons and tennis lessons and art lessons and travel and elaborate birthday parties. An easy time in school. Three amazing kids. Very good friends. And now, a job I love. To me, that added up to extremely lucky. These were not things I had worked for or earned. They were essentially cosmic gifts. Thus I feel blessed. The more I thought about it, the more I mentally added to my list. Healthy. Strong. Athletic. Able to read well, with access to great books every day. Pretty good in the arts. I was truly blessed and absolutely lucky.

But then I realized that there is another side to my life. A relationship with my mom that was at best rocky, at worst destructive. A very bad marriage. Years without enough money for some necessities, much less luxuries. Lost dreams of travel and a career as a pediatric cardiologist (organic chemistry took that one away!). Miscarriage. Loss of my beloved as he left me to fight his own demons alone. Lonely nights and too many tears to count. But even as I surveyed this tally of loss and disappointment that could easily put me at the 1 or 2 end of the scale, I could not shake my feeling that despite all of the bad, or maybe because of it, I was indeed very lucky. Extremely lucky. Blessed.

Was it the Yin and Yang, the need for balance in all things that let me see myself as blessed even while acknowledging the problems? I am certainly no pollyana. I am well aware of my weaknesses and my trials and there are nights when I ache for someone to hold me while I cry. And yet...and yet...

When I survey this adventure that is my life so far, I see blessings that stand far taller than the sadnesses that litter the ground. Mother Teresa is quoted as saying that happiness is a choice. Once we make that choice, the world looks different to our eyes. Am I more blessed than my friend M-, who for now, is seeing only the losses and disappointments? I don't think so. I'm just wearing different eyes.