Monday, September 28, 2009

melt down

Today's list of activities was going pretty well. John Tyson and I spent some time this morning dancing. We also played outside, swung under the tree, went grape picking, and ate lunch. Then, I left for work. Anna kindly agreed to watch John Tyson for the one hour window of time that I was gone and Greg was not home yet.

This morning, Greg took some of the Hyaets boys to ride on the Virginia Creeper Trail. He took what he thought would be an "easy" group. Long story short, he ended up having to walk a very long way down the trail due to a broken bike chain and at the beginning and end of the trip, he had to deal with disciplinary issues within the group. All this adds up to Greg coming home three hours later than expected.

After I talked to Greg, I called Anna. Her newest plan is to move out of our house and into her new duplex in RIGHT NOW when she has John Tyson with her. I trust Anna to do everything in her power to take care of John Tyson, but at the same time I'm imagining John Tyson being rolled on a wagon atop luggage and boxes from our house to the new duplex. Needless to say, this image does not excite me.

I called Jason and Joanie and told them about the predicament. They have agreed to take care of John Tyson. Everything will be fine. The boy will be safe and alive and happy when I get home. BUT....

I'm still having a melt down. I feel like I'm being neglectful, like I need to go home and get John Tyson. I feel like I shouldn't be at work. I feel like I can't be at work without anything crazy going on. I feel like John Tyson isn't being taken care of in the way that I would take care of him and I feel guilty for disliking that fact. I feel angry that I can't go to work without feeling neglectful. I feel like I don't want to be a stay at home mom with no outside work or world, but I also can't imagine how to balance the two.

Here's what I wrote in my journal after I got off the phone (crying) with Joanie:

I want to be a good mom.
I ant to be an artist.
I want to be a dreamer.
I want to take care of people.
I want to pursue my dreams.
I want to create beautiful things.
I want to inspire joy.
I want to be healthy.
I want to be taken care of.
I want to be honest.
I want to be expressive.
I want to be released from responsibility.
I want to be responsible.
I want to be admired.
I want to be honored.
I want to live fully.
I want to breathe deeply.
Are these things possible?
Are they possible all at once?

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

one less bowl....

There's cute little Xavier eating his spaghetti on the front porch.

Xavier and Dana having a nice conversation.

Xavier gets up from his seat....

Uh OH!

Spaghetti on the floor

Anna to the rescue!

One less Blue Willow Bowl in my collection.

Lord, Why did you tell me to love?

Lord, why did you tell me to love all men, my brothers?
I have tried, but I come back to you, frightened....

Lord, I was so peaceful at home, I was so comfortably settled,
it was well-furnished, and I felt cozy.
I was alone, I was at peace,
Sheltered from the wind and the rain, kept clean.
I would have stayed unsullied in my ivory tower.

But, Lord, you have discovered a breach in my defenses,
You have forced me to open my door.
Like a squall of rain in the face, the cry of men has awakened me;
Like a gale of wind a friendship has shaken me,
Stealing in like a shaft of light, your grace has disturbed me.
Rashly enough, I left my door ajar. Now, Lord, I am lost!
Outside, men were lying in wait for me.
I did not know whey were so near; in this house, in this street, in this officce; my neighbor, my colleague, my friend.
As soon as I started to open the door I saw them, with outstretched hands, anxious eyes, longing hearts, like beggars on church steps.

The first came in, Lord. There was, after all, a bit of space in my heart.
I welcomed them. I would have cared for them and fondled them, my very own little lambs, my little flock.
You would have been pleased, Lord; I would have served and honored you in a proper, respectable way.
Until then, it was sensible...
But the next ones, Lord, the other men---I had not seen them;
they were hidden behind the first ones.
There were more of them. They were wretched; they overpowered me without warning.
We had to crowd in, I had to find room for them.

Now they have come from all over in successive waves, pushing one another, jostling one another.
They ahve come from all over town, from all parts of the country, of the world; numberless, inexhaustible.
They don't come alone any longer but in groups, bound one to another.
They come bending under heavy loads; loads of injustice, of resentment and hate, of suffering and sin...
They drag the world behind them, with everything rusted, twisted, badly adjusted.

Lord, they hurt me! They are in the way, they are all over.
They are too hungry; they are consuming me!
I can't do anything anymore; as they come in, they push the door, and the door opens wider....
Ah, Lord! My door is wide open!
I can't stand it any more! It's too much! It's no kind of a life!
What about my job?
My family?
My peace?
My liberty?
And me?
Ah, Lord! I have lost everything; I don't belong to myself any lnger;
There's no more room for me at home.

Don't worry, God says, you have gained all,
While men came in to you,
I, your Father,
I, your God,
Slipped in among them.

~ Michel Quoist

Monday, September 21, 2009

Flowers from the Seed Bomb

I noticed, a couple of days ago, these bright coral colored flowers in the yard next door. I wondered where they came from. Then I remembered....the seed bombs! At the beginning of spring, Anna supplied me with some bombs and I threw them all over the place. These flowers are the result. So far, I've spotted five of them! Glad they are here. Beautiful.

Waken in Me a Sense of Joy

O extravagant God,
in this ripening, red-tinged autumn,
waken in me a sense of joy
in just being alive,
joy for nothing in general
except everything in particular;
joy in sun and rain
mating with earth to birth a harvest;
joy in soft light
through shyly disrobing trees;
joy in the acolyte moon
setting halos around processing cluds;
joy in the beating of a thousand wings
mysteriously knowing which way is warm;
joy in wagging tails and kids' smiles
and in this spunky old city;
joy in the tast of bread and wine,
the smell of dawn,
a touch,
a song,
a presence;
joy in having what I cannot live without--
other people to hold and cry and laugh with;
joy in love,
in you;
and that all at first and last
is grace.

~ Ted Loder
Guerrillas of Grace
Prayers for the Battle

Saturday, September 19, 2009

in the back yard

I fell in love with "purple heart" (Sucretia) when I worked at Swift Creek Berry Farm and Greenhouse!

Yellow heart
I believe the ants love the fig as much as we do.

Things I want to do

I want to make something that is useful
I want to make something that is beautiful
I want to read something inspiring
Say something inspiring
Figure out how to use my camera well
do something interesting
make new friends
clean my room (really, I just want it to be clean)
be more healthy
be happy with my body
be a good momma
write something that is worth publishing
follow up on lots of dreams

Monday, September 14, 2009

My trip to Todd

The Jarrell/Harris men enjoying some picking time.

Standing on top of Turner Mountain looking out

John Tyson running in the field..

The view from Turner Mountain

Grandaddy playing his guitar