Spirituality

Snippets from the Weekend

By / June 5, 2011

Our friend Mike got baptized yesterday morning. It was one of many decisions he has made to change his life from drifting and unhappy, into focused and goal-oriented. Mike has taken control of his life and is choosing who he wants to be. The fact that he picked our church brings us joy, but even more joyful is seeing how he chooses every day to do hard things because they take him where he wants to go. Most adults are not willing to dare to change so much about who they are. It inspires me to look at my own life and see if there are things that I am afraid to change.

***

Yesterday evening Howard was grouchy and decided to get out of the house. He wandered his way down to the Provo Festival of Books where several of our published author friends were presenting. Within an hour he called me because he’d arranged for a whole group to head out for dinner. I set Kiki and Link to babysitting the younger two and then drove myself down to join them. The world is a wonderful place when we can gather a group of friends for dinner and then later realize that 4 of them are New York Times bestselling authors and one was a Nebula award winner. All that authorial importance at the table and somehow the evening was completely lacking in ego. I love being at the table with high-energy creative people. They work really hard and that is why they have succeeded. Just as inspiring to me were the other people at the table, the ones who have not yet earned banner success, but who are also high-energy creative people. Dinners like that one are one of the rewards for the fretting and work we do much of the rest of the time.

***

The snowball bush is finally in bloom. Usually the blooms arrive in mid-May, but they were delayed by the cool weather. This means it is time for the annual snowball bush flower fight. This is where the kids pick snowball-shaped clusters of white flowers and throw them at each other or fling them into the air like confetti. Also in full bloom are my irises. They’re swirling their petals like Spanish dancers and filling the air with a spicy floral scent. These things thrive despite my neglect of them in recent years. I hope that this summer I can spend more time with them.

***

The thought arrived during the closing hymn. We were on the second verse of “Be Thou Humble” when I knew that though my currently-in-query-process book and all my future writings will bring me criticisms, the good accomplished by them will far outweigh the negative criticism. It was a calming thought. I have been much worried about how bad reviews and hateful comments would injure me. My book is based in my life and it will be very hard to remain objective. I have some of the same concerns in my blog. I often have an impulse to leave things unsaid and thus shield myself. But the good will outweigh the difficulty. I can hold on to that.

***

The chore lists have been updated and placed on our bulletin board in the kitchen. Each child has a grid. Seven days of the week across and ten weeks down. Each day that they complete their list of chores they fill in a square. At the end of the week, each filled square represents allowance money. Each completely filled week adds to the bonus which they can earn at the end of the summer. It is a new iteration of an old system, and thus more easily understood by the kids than explained in words. They all contemplated their charts, running calculations in their heads about money they could earn and what they could buy. I look at the charts and hope that they will help tame the household chaos and teach my kids the value of daily effort. Howard and I also have daily household chore lists. We could learn the same daily effort lesson in regards to household maintenance. The system will probably fall apart. I just hope it is tight enough to last through 10 weeks of summer.

***

I sat on a stool in my kitchen reading out loud from a manuscript page. Kiki was rolling out biscuits as she listened. Link and Patch just sat in chairs, listening with bright eyes and smiles. Mom reading aloud is fairly common, but this story was about them. One of the rules I set myself for my book was that the kids would get ultimate approval about what I say about them. This was their chance to hear my words and tell me what they thought. They loved hearing the stories, even when the stories were about their mis-behaviors and childishness. We still have more to read, but thus far only Link has requested a change. It is a minor wording change which will leave the heart of the story intact. It is a small thing to do to acknowledge to my kids that their opinions matter to me.

My conversations with God

By / March 27, 2011 / 2 Comments

When I watch Fiddler on the Roof, Tevya’s conversation’s with God feel very familiar to me. I too speak with God on a daily basis. Sometimes that speaking is in formalized prayer. Other times it is merely me rolling my eyes heavenward and asking silently “Really? Why today?” There is no indication that Tevya ever gets answers to his prayers, in fact the opposite is implied. Tevya is left to create his own answers as he tries to balance tradition with a fast changing world. I do get answers. Not all the time, not always clearly, but over the years God and I have developed a rich communication. Mostly those answers come as knowledge/concepts which my mind then turns into words. They are subtle and in earlier years I often confused them with my own desires. I still do sometimes, particularly when seeking answers on an emotional issue. Most of the time I receive these inspirations in direct answer to my prayers or requests. Occasionally I’ll be struck with one when I’m not seeking answers. My usual response to out-of-the-blue inspiration is to answer with the eye roll “Really? Why now?”

Yes I am aware that these answers could be coming from my own mind. I could be creating a comforting fiction of God. Except without fail those answers are right. They are right in ways that are impossible for me to predict. They are right for reasons which sometimes don’t become apparent until years after I have followed the instructions. Yes again, I could be justifying decisions after the fact by simply gathering evidence in support of them. I choose to believe that these answers come from a loving God who is as present in my life as I am willing to let Him be. That last bit is key. I can shut Him out. I can do the spiritual equivalent of sticking my fingers in my ears and singing loudly so that I will not hear Him. It is very tempting, because all too often the answers and inspirations I receive are quite difficult to follow through upon. So I grow a little shell for my heart. I hold up all the good things I am doing as a shield. “See God? I am going to church and teaching my children. I am doing regular service and reading my scriptures. It’s all pretty hard, so I should just keep working at it for awhile, right?” I stay busy with the good things I am doing so that I won’t have to do any more, rather like dodging a phone call from a friend because I think she’ll want me to volunteer for a bake sale.

This is where church meetings come in. One of those good things I use as a shield is church attendance. Except if I really want to avoid conversation with God, the last place I should go is His house. So I go there. I listen. I sing. Then my hard shell cracks open and inspiration pours in. It is like finally talking to that friend and discovering that, yes she wants me to volunteer for a bake sale, but she’s also wondering if she can come help me clean my house, plant flowers in my garden, and maybe repaint a little. I’ll have to help with all of those things too, of course. It will be work, but in the end I will be the biggest beneficiary. When the messages are clear, I adjust my life to make space for the work.

Thus I find myself posting about inspiration on the internet, which is notorious for swooping down upon people in very unpleasant ways. I also find myself tinkering with my weekly schedule because apparently getting my essay book done is still important. While I’m tinkering with the schedule Family Dinner needs to go back on it. In addition, I should keep up that time partitioning plan, because it is a really good thing. So I roll up my sleeves and start in on the work, realizing once again that perhaps I should listen to this particular friend more often. Even while He is handing out assignments, He is also doling out large measures of hope and energy. When I add His things into my life, the impossible is accomplished.

An awkward moment

By / January 18, 2011 / 2 Comments

I was having a conversation with friends, whose religious affiliation I don’t know other than “not the same as me,” about heritage and rumors of Native American heritage as long-ago family scandal. One of my young children piped up:
“We all have Native American heritage, because we all come from Adam and Eve.”
The moment following her statement was short, but I was at once aware that several people in the room were possibly wondering how I could take my child to a church which teaches Adam and Eve. At the same time I was aware of the need not to shake my child’s faith in the things she has been taught. Faith has carried me through many hard places and I believe she will need the strength it can impart. I could have quite fascinating discussions about human origins with either my daughter or my friends, but they start in such different places that I did not know what words to use which would harm no one. I needed to change the subject rapidly so that our pleasant visit would not be turned into something else entirely.
I wish I’d had the presence of mind to say “Yes honey, when we get down to it all humans are related.” I don’t really know what it was I stammered instead, but because my guests are good people the topic changed and a pleasant afternoon was had.

I don’t know that anyone else felt the awkwardness of that moment as I did. Perhaps they thought nothing of it. The event has me thinking about the difficulty of teaching matters of belief to children when others who hold different beliefs are nearby. I wonder if I need to be more courageous about this. I tend to keep discussions of belief behind closed doors. My beliefs are safe there where they won’t draw attack or ridicule. One of the most frightening realizations in my adult life was that there are people in the world with whom I will never be able to peacefully coexist because our belief systems are so far divergent. Yet it is by sharing these close-to-our-hearts beliefs that we have the best chance of understanding each other.

I have no answers, except to know that if I am ever in the position that my friends were in, I will try to do as they did. They did not let difference of belief make them think any less of me and I truly appreciate that.

Pondering next year’s calendar

By / December 30, 2010

The calendar lay across half of my kitchen table. Around it were multi-colored pens, my planner, a schedule from the school, and last year’s calendar laid partially across the top. The time for my annual switching of the wall calendar had arrived. All the various notes and plans made for 2011 were dutifully recorded in the color of the family member to which they applied. I stood back and surveyed next year laid out before me. It didn’t look too bad, but there were big events not on the calendar because the dates for them are not yet fixed. Howard and I had a long conversation about this just after Christmas. We mentally juggled book production and release schedules against the fixed commitments on the calendar. Some side projects were approved while many were tossed in the “not this year” file. The resulting plan for next year is busy, but hopefully only crazy in a few spots.

My fingers traced across the calendar as I mentally marked our tentative press and shipping dates for the two books we plan to produce next year. My hand hovered over June and July which look empty on the calendar, but which I know will be full of preparations for GenCon and WorldCon as well as book production. I thought back to a piece from I book I’ve read recently. It talked of an old Jewish man who never made any kind of appointment or plan without speaking the words “God Willing.” For the man this was not a fatalistic prediction that the plan would fail, but rather an acknowledgment that no mortal being is in full control of his life. Many things may happen between now and next week to make a dinner date impossible, he speaks the words so that he will not be angry or frustrated if some other event intervenes.

I press my hand flat against the calendar. I have planned next year. It is a good plan. I have built in more flexibility in the months. I have place space for happiness to dwell in each day. I intend to hold this schedule loosely and not panic when it inevitably has to shift or change. God willing, this is how 2011 will be. If it turns out differently, and it almost certainly will, then I will try to trust that there is a bigger plan with pieces that I can not see.

The calendar now hangs on my wall. I’m ready to proceed.

The Nativity, Beginnings, Middles, and Faith

By / December 24, 2010

Shepherds, wise men, angels, Mary, and Joseph, they all rejoiced at the birth of Jesus. They all came from cultures which prophesied and awaited the coming of the Messiah who would save them all. I wonder how dismayed they were to wake up the next morning and discover that there were diapers to be changed, sheep to be fed, and normal life to be lived. The birth of Christ was a long-awaited moment, but it was only the beginning. Years of work and preparation were necessary before the true work of the Messiah could be done.

I am in the middle of raising my children. This Fall has been a tumultuous one, not in events, but in emotions. In no measurable way am I at the culmination of anything, nor at the beginning of something else. It would be nice to have a clear marker on the road, what I have instead is Christmas. I stare at the porcelain nativity scene and look at the baby. I look at the Mary in blue, so serene. They are frozen in the moment of joy, which turned out to be a brilliant moment at the very beginning of a long hard path. But once the path was done, not a one of them would regret it.

I’ll take Christmas as my marker. The fact that I’m here means that 2010 has passed and somehow we all survived. More than just survived, we have grown. I will photograph many things tomorrow and years from now I will look back and be able to see the whats and whys of where we are. I think I will look back and see that this Fall and this Christmas were a beginning. More importantly I’ll be able to see what was begun and why it matters.

I don’t think the real Mary was quite so serene as my porcelain one. She had just been through labor, not the medically-assisted, epidural-ific version of labor that I have experienced. She did natural childbirth. In a stable. With no doctor or nurse, or anyone but Joseph nearby. She must have been frazzled, sore, and high on endorphins. She knew she was at the beginning of something, all new mothers do, but what measure of terror she must have felt when contemplating the path before her. Perhaps she did not experience the Nativity as a moment of pure clarity and beauty, but rather as a muddle which only made sense later.

I think I can have faith in that. I can trust that it will make more sense later when I am not in the middle of so many things.

Anxiety, Sabbath, Things To Do, and Faith

By / November 14, 2010

I was talking with a friend about anxiety yesterday. He has a newly acquired panic disorder. I have waded through the murky waters of self-diagnosed anxiety disorder until I reached a place where it no longer qualifies as a disorder. I found my way through by using the geysers of anxieties as indicators of sub-surface emotional pressure. Then I stalked around in my own brain looking for where to dig for the things I was suppressing/repressing. It is an interesting thing, studying your own mind. I do it all the time. I react to things and part of my brain says “That’s interesting. Why did I do that?” I think this is one of the reasons I like Sir Terry Pratchett’s books about Tiffany Aching. They explore the concept of having second, third, and fourth thoughts where each layer considers the one before it.

The self-examination is often useful, like this morning when I was able to see that I was feeling upset and my conscious mind kept trying to create reasons to explain it. I changed clothes multiple times and was still dissatisfied with the end result, but my feelings had nothing to do with the clothes and everything to do with uncertainty about other things. Once I could see the problem for what it was, I was able to tell Howard. He hugged me and told me it will all be okay, which didn’t solve anything, but made me feel better. Feeling better did lead to some solutions.

Other times this looking at my own thoughts just adds extra layers of chaos to whatever experience I am trying to sort. At such times I wish my brain would just shut up.

I have not been doing a very good job of keeping the Sabbath as a day of rest. Lately it has been a day of household things I did not get to during the week which are now urgent. So Sunday has been a bit too full of laundry, dishes, and de-cluttering. It has also become a day full of To Do since I am arranging the church Christmas party and I have dozens of people to talk to, who are more readily available on Sunday when I know they are not at work. My Sunday refuge from To Do has been missing for months.

There are voices in my mind which tell me that this represents a failure on my part. These voices chatter and insinuate that the very fact that I am so busy also represents a failure. If I were just more capable I would get things done more efficiently. Alternately my hectic life represents my failure to estimate what I am capable of doing. I have failed to say no. I’ve failed to slow our lives down to a sane pace. The list of failures is long, and these voices will latch on to just about anything as evidence of failure.

It just now occurs to me that this flailing around to explain my sense of failure is rather like this morning’s upset. The feeling exists and my brain is trying to explain it. The feeling is coming from someplace deep that I can’t see through the cloud of distraction. I wonder what I have buried that I now need to dig up. I also wonder when I’ll find the time to go digging.

Environmental factors were huge in bringing my anxiety down to a controllable level. In my case the disorder was triggered by long-term financial stress followed by a large financial blow. The anxiety was greatly relieved when we were able to make solid steps toward restoring our finances. My current emotional struggles will be greatly relieved when I am able to reduce the length and weight of my average daily To Do list. I think this is coming. I’m working toward it even though I’m a little afraid to believe that I am capable of accomplishing it. Success is hard to see through the chaff cloud of small failure thoughts.

Link was supposed to give a talk in church today. I remembered this fact after I settled myself on the bench and opened the program to see his name there. We scrambled all week to accomplish the work for three Scout Merit Badges. I also had “write talk” on my To Do list for him. But once the badges were done he and I both collapsed into puddles of relief and forgot the talk. I hauled Link into the foyer in a panic, ready to coach him on giving an impromptu testimony. Howard solved the problem more sensibly by walking up to the bishopric and saying that Link wasn’t ready, could he talk next week? This is how Link and I came to be sitting in my office right after church, writing down his talk for next week.

He put together a good set of thoughts with appropriate authoritative references. I tried to help him think of personal experiences that he could also share, but Link came up dry. He was confident that prayer works, but couldn’t give any specific instances of when it did. I looked at my son and realized that he was displaying the essence of child-like faith: belief based on a feeling of rightness without visible evidence. I pointed this out to him and it made him glad.

I think I need to wield more faith in my own life. I need to use it to cut through the clouds of self-doubting chaff. I need to have faith in myself and in my own capabilities, even when I can’t see any reason for it. I need to have faith that the same processes which have helped me dig up my buried troubles will work again. I need to have faith in the inspired messages I have received. Because just as Howard told me this morning that everything will be okay, so has God been telling me over and over that I have no need to fear. Faith can be my sword and my light in dark places. Or perhaps faith is a lighted staff like the one Gandalf used when he confronted the Balrog and said “You shall not pass!” I can just see myself barring the way, defending my Sabbath from my list of Things To Do. Alternately it may be as simple as the realization that Sarah makes in Labyrinth “You have no power over me” where upon all the noisy voices slink away in silence.

I do not always have power to solve problems in the physical world, but I have great power inside my own head. I can beat back the fearful thoughts, the worries. I can turn my life into a joyful place despite the unending list of things To Do. It is not a single epic battle, more like a siege, but I can still triumph. Now where is my sword? I’ve got stuff to do.

Bridging the gaps

By / October 21, 2010

This week has been full of communication, inspiration, and prayer. None of the issues are new ones, but somehow this was the week for focusing on them. This was also a week when I received some clear answers to my queries. One of those answers was knowledge that the minor miracles I need are on their way, I just need to be patient and keep doing the work in front of me.

The biggest thing in front of me during the second half of this week is the church Halloween Carnival. As Activities Committee Chair, I am in charge of the event. Fortunately the youth group takes care of providing the carnival games. I am simply in charge of arranging for food, buying prizes, writing announcements, disbursing announcements, setting up the gym, decorating the gym, running a costume contest for grown ups, orchestrating a children’s parade, Then cleaning up after the event. In short, if I don’t do my job the Carnival will fall on its face pitifully.

I don’t have to do all of this solo. I have a committee of people to help. I also have an entire congregation which is accustomed to volunteering. So I passed around sign-up sheets, shanghaied scouts, and gave out a few assignments. People volunteered to bring soups, chili, and desserts. Other people signed up to help with set up and clean up. All that remained to me was purchasing a few odds and ends. Oh, and the decorations. I had no clue what to do about those. Mostly I shoved thoughts of decorations out of my head, figuring if the food was good people would be content.

Then yesterday, out of the blue, a member of a different congregation volunteered to loan me the decorations she used for her ward Halloween party. This is not a woman I have ever met before. She is a friend to the woman who was Activities Chair before me. I made a quick trip to look at the decorations in question and was completely blown away. I stared up at flat cardboard haunted house wall decorations which were taller than me. There were twiggy branches sporting bats. Tombstones, ghosts, a mummy sign, all the trappings of a Halloween carnival, and they were being offered to me.

It was a blessing that arrived unasked. I wrestled with other things early in the week. The decorations arrived when I needed them. I still have a list of things to do before the carnival. I still need to work hard setting up the decorations and later taking them down and returning them. I could still make a mess of the carnival, but the gap I did not know how to fill has been bridged. It gives me faith that other gaps in my life will also be provided with bridges when the time is right.

Tasks and Priorities

By / October 17, 2010

Church is a contemplative time for me. I do my best to listen to the lessons and talks, but my mind often wanders about doing the mental equivalent of picking up clutter and putting it away. Today I spent most of church sitting with my planner open in my lap. As my mind tidied up, I wrote notes and my to do lists for this week got ever longer. When I noticed this phenomenon, I was temped to snap my planner shut. In the end I realized that it was better to have the to dos pinned neatly to a page than to have them floating loose in my brain as clutter.

The topic for Sunday School was living a life of faith in Christ. The topic led one recently divorce mother to ask for advice as to how to devote her life to Christ when her days are full of laundry, carpooling, and making kids practice the violin. Her question zipped into the middle of my newly tidy mind and bounced around. It is a very good question, one I have had to resolve for myself on multiple occasions. How does my life, as I am currently living it, fit with what I believe about eternity? This question remains the same no matter how many times I ask it of myself, but my answers change as my life shifts.

At the moment my life is a combination of mundane tasks and frightening challenges. It is easier to see where the challenges fit into the larger picture of my life. I am learning new things, growing in ways that are sometimes painful. Since the challenges are frightening, I seek more for divine guidance to make sure that my steps are headed the right direction. The challenges are daunting, but it is very clear to me that they are important. The mundane tasks are different. They simply exist and often oppress me. This is when the question comes in handy, because it forces me to look closely at my mundane things. I have to look for connections and hidden eternal purposes. All of the cooking, homework help, and carpooling I do for my kids is truly aimed at helping them grow. Nothing could be more eternally important than that. The cleaning I do provides order and space for happiness to reside. Some of my most mundane chores have vital eternal purposes if I just take the time to look for them. When I am aware of those connections and purposes, then my daily tasks can become acts of devotion and love.

Of course the actual practice of this theory is somewhat more difficult. My brain never seems to be able to hold it for very long, which is why I have to re-ask the question and discover it all again. Then I go back to the lists that I carefully compiled during church and I shift things around. Now the task order more closely represents what is important in my life right now. If I can just keep that up, then my life will be just what it should be.

LDS General Conference

By / October 3, 2010

Our church had general conference this weekend. It is ten hours of topical speeches given by the church leadership. These talks are spread out into five two hour sessions over two days and we can view/listen via radio, television, or internet. Today we gathered all the children and hooked a computer up to the big screen so that we could watch. Gleek and Patch cheered out loud when the learned it was conference. They love the feeling of having all of us gathered in one place, listening to good messages, while quietly engaged in various activities.

I still have much to ponder from the things I heard. I’ll need to read the text when it comes out in the church magazine next month. I may also re-watch some of the talks on the internet at LDS.org. The process will help me gain inspiration about my own life. I could use some inspirational clarity. My perspective has felt muddled of late.

The thing I am meant to do

By / September 12, 2010

Today’s church meeting was full of things for me to mull over. Mostly it is still percolating, but one piece has bubbled to the surface. One of the speakers talked about not wasting time, but instead getting out and finding the thing we are meant to do. I pondered the question of what I am meant to do and the answer is multitudinous. I do not have one big thing that will define my life. I have many things which need me to accomplish them.

This is actually a relief. If I mess something up it does not disrupt the whole purpose of my existence. So instead of stressing over the grand purpose of my life, I merely have to ask “what is the most important thing for me to do today.” If I do that every day, and remember that urgent is not the same as important, then my life will be exactly what it should be.