Archives for 2018

fractals again, joy beyond imagination, and LOVE

February 18, 2018

Just six weeks into the new year and already so much has changed. Stuff on every front. Amazing.

Life can serve up shock and grief, deep despair, in a moment; and it can transform for the better just as suddenly.

Or maybe none of these changes are as sudden as we think. Maybe we just finally see things a certain way, all at once.

I have been watching piecemeal a three-part Netflix series called “The Code,” just in twenty or thirty minutes bursts while ironing, organizing the Apartment, etcetera. It’s all about mathematical and borderline mystical patterns in the Universe. Mostly what perks up my ears is the talk of shape-patterns in nature. One episode explores fractals in a way I had never heard before. It explains how this expansive, repeating design builds the most complex systems and finished objects we take for granted. A branch grows until it stops to sprout a new network of twigs, then each of those twigs does the same, over and over again. Trees, coral, even blood vessels. Mountain ranges, roots systems, so much. And the program features human applications, too. Like the celebrated 20th-century painter Jackson Pollock (his art was not so random after all) as well as the man who cracked the fractal code and changed animation technology forever (Pixar).

I can’t help but apply this “shape” to human relationships. Social and family patterns. Addictions. Just all aspects of culture that we learn and pass on. Exponentially.

Okay.

Remember when fractals were the thing to discuss back after reading The Shack for the first time? The Holy Spirit character was a female gardener who laid out these spacious, dense, repeating, confusing, soothing, perfect gardens. They felt messy up close, chaotic, formless. But stepping back and seeing the patterns revealed all the grand design. A gentle swirl, concentric rings of growth and beauty. Those gardens are each of our lives or souls, depending on how you apply the metaphor.

It’s just so comforting.

Remember?

That is a book worth reading twice.

Right now I am reading for the second time A Return to Love and just devoured half a chapter all about the Holy Spirit. It presses me gently to remember all the ways God has revealed beauty in chaos. That sweet, still voice He has, the peace that passes understanding He offers. His whispers about using my imagination for good and being okay with the meandering.

These words really jumped off the page:

The Holy Spirit is a bridge back to gentle thoughts, the great transformer of perception. The Comforter.

However life changes year to year, day to day, I am so grateful that God’s voice never does. So thankful that He remains gentle and steady. Just pure, powerful LOVE.

We are witnessing miracles, no doubt about it.

Miracles at work, on every side of my husband. I am so proud of him and his contributions to Oklahoma and the utility industries. I am so thankful for everything he leads his team to do. So humbled by how far God will go to protect and bolster every effort.

Miracles in my family. I cannot wait for you to hear more about my sister Angela and read what she has learned about Love and Fear. She has a big week coming up and I am so happy to be part of that with her and her girls! I’ll post more on that, maybe on IG.

Miracles here at the farm, stuff as small and routine as noticing an early spring to the mammoth joy of sensing the fruition of why we built all of this in the first place. Purpose fulfilled is a thrilling miracle.

Miracles with our children and their wide-reaching family. The past few weeks have shocked us with a kind of peace and joy that most people would not have guessed was possible. But here we are, relaxed and bonded and moving forward into new life chapters.

Miracles for Jessica specifically. She is seeing the fruits of her labors, and I can’t get enough of how beautiful she is clothed in joy.

Miracles for Jocelyn, perceived in some private maternal ways I can barely articulate, details that my friend Mickey would describe as “post-it notes from God.” I treasure every single one.

Joc cutting me some wild sage, on the last day of my first trip to visit her in Colorado. Fractal upon fractal in this photo. Hope upon hope.

Today is bursting with special opportunities. First, we get to host brunch for Jess and her boyfriend and join in a fun memory in her life. Later I will bake some focaccia and we will spend the evening with a handful of other married couples, discussing God and relationships and eating great food.

Lots of farm activity and romance in between it all. Never once ceasing in prayer for Jocelyn and other people weighing heavily on our hearts.

Then we will come home together again, safe and happy and secure in Love. This itself is a special opportunity.

Every encounter, every circumstance can be used by Him for His purposes. He uses Love to create more Love, and He responds to fear as a call for Love.

What I want to stress to you, really, is that Love is working for us. Love is dissolving every fear that once terrified and paralyzed us. Love is burning away all the fog. Lighting up all the dark corners of this life. And because everything is revealing so beautifully, all the details are so constantly surprising us, the ongoing mystery is kind of fun. I find myself no longer fretting over the unknowns but rather breathing deeply, sometimes giggling, and thinking, “I wonder what God has in store for this!”

“I want to know God’s thoughts.
The rest are details.”
~Albert Einstein
XOXOXOXO

six short stories on saturday night

February 10, 2018

#1: A few warm, sunny days this past week really got my heart going pitter-patter for springtime, however far away it might truly be. The hens are laying again, the honeybees have been buzzing around on fresh breezes, and my first seed order should arrive soon. I walk around the farm every day and still see lots of dry, sepia winter scenes, but in my mind’s eye, everything is verdant already and bursting with kaleidoscope color, vibrating with new life. As I type this paragraph we are bundled up in the warmest room of the house, debating the wisdom of hot coffee so close to sunset. Which is becoming later each day, I have to add.

#2: Jessica spent the past few days with us at the farm, and she blended in so naturally. She has a way of making the gorgeous weather even more springlike. It felt like the old days, but better. On Friday she and I spent many hours together between the kitchen and the barn and the possibility-filled gardens, talking and laughing about everything old and new. She and Klaus became seriously good buddies. She and Handsome discussed car purchases and adult life. She and I (mostly she) produced a big batch of delicious soft pretzels plus a cozy family dinner of salmon cakes and all the good sides. We all watched a movie together and studied for her upcoming exam. This beautiful girl-now-a-woman has exciting plans and is brimming with all the best things about being twenty years old. We are just thrilled and grateful to be included in her life right now. Overnight, our weather turned frigid cold again, bringing us a grey and dull Saturday morning, but her presence in this house warmed it up. Her boyfriend joined us all for a late breakfast of waffles with all the trimmings, another meal which she made perfectly. We really enjoyed his company, too, and is there anything more fun than seeing your child in love? All of this beauty, and still bigger miracles are growing up around us. Things I will write about soon.

#3: I have for the second time cracked open A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson and am, well, in love with it all over again. Her preface gripped me this time as though she had written it, especially for Jocelyn. (Thank you for your continued prayers and the gentle stream of love notes, friends.) In a few weeks, I will join two wonderful girlfriends to listen to the author speak, a miniature book club reunion and really just time well spent with two stellar human beings, absorbing some magic together.

When we were born, we were programmed perfectly. We had a natural tendency to focus on love. Our imaginations were creative and flourishing, and we knew how to use them. We were connected to a world much richer than the one we connect to now, a world full of enchantment and a sense of the miraculous.

#4: Have you winterized your salad bowl yet? If we cannot yet enjoy watermelon, let’s definitely feast on big, luxurious bowls of leafy greens topped with roasted vegetables and some protein. No dressing needed. Warm those bellies and keep them happy with complex carbs! This past week I met my sister Angela for lunch in a faraway place called “Oklahoma City, Northside” and we shamed ourselves at a magical salad bar. Have you heard of Salata? Oh man.

#5: One of our local Hansons mentors posted this quote today, and it is perfect: “The genuine marathoner is a rare breed indeed, half athlete and half poet. Part rock-bottom pragmatist and part sky-high idealist. Completely, even defiantly individual and yet irrevocably joined to a select group almost tribal in its shared rituals and aspirations.” Fair warning, friends, if you check in here on Monday. I had a week of non-running and have lots to say. Many lessons to solidify!

#6: My husband’s new favorite dessert is kind of a surprise to me. It was a throw-together layered shortbread-and-ganache idea from a brownie mix I picked up at Aldi. Should I make it again for Valentine’s Day this week? Or should I make the very top secret thing I was already planning? Or should we have multiple desserts to finish off our traditional heart-shaped ribeye dinner? Like a small chocolate festival of our own? Okay, yes, that.

Stay cozy, friends! Read great books. Eat the best food you can find. Expect miracles and do not for one day give up hope. What if we did? Look what we would be missing already. And tomorrow hasn’t even happened yet.

“Never underestimate the power
that one good workout
will have on your mind.
Keeping the dream alive
is half the battle.”
~Kara Goucher
XOXOXOXO

mm: hansons week 6, aka what the fartlek?!

February 5, 2018

Hello and thanks for joining me again for Marathon Monday! I’m happy to say that week six of preparing for April was fruitful, definitely not because it was easy but because it served up a handful of challenges and good lessons. Also, finishing week six means we have already made it through the first third of this training cycle, very cool! I’m feeling great in so many ways, you guys. Happy to be here doing this. Grateful for this little experiment, even when I have a wonky week. Okay.

Before I tell you about my week, please help me give major congratulations to my friend Jeff who ran TWO back to back (and seriously fast) marathons last weekend to celebrate his birthday. On Saturday he ran a 3:30:11, and the very next day he finished in 3:39:29. How amazing!! He also raised money for Parkinson’s disease research for his birthday.

His family had these signs posted at their gate for his homecoming!

I have lots to learn from Jeff and am grateful that he’s an open book. He’s clearly talented but also honest when he doesn’t feel great or the conditions aren’t ideal, and he always pushes himself, which inspires me. His results week to week and month to month certainly prove that the effort pays off. Congratulations and happy birthday, Jeff!!

I also love Robin so much. She is the first person who clued me in to the Hansons method!

Okay. Week six:

Monday: The plan called for “6 easy” and that is exactly what I ran. 6.11 miles at a 10:27 pace, and I felt physically great the whole time, barring an annoying wardrobe malfunction. I wore thin, stretchy yoga pants instead of running tights, and the waist kept slipping so far down my hips I had to stop and tug and pull and adjust about every .75 miles, ha! Home to do yoga. My body felt good all day if a little underworked. But I had plenty to do around the house. And the point of easy days is to be easy. Let the nutrients of your practice soak into your body, as Adriene would say.

Tuesday: Speed day! I woke up so excited for this, based on how much fun it’s been lately, and how successful I felt last Tuesday. The morning was sub-zero frigid cold again, so I did my basic chores and tidied up the house and got my yoga session out of the way first, hoping to burn enough time to get to the mile loop once the temps were slightly better. But then I got hungry and ate a little more than I usually do this early before a workout, and I would regret that. On one hand, the time delay worked, but by then the wind had picked up a lot and it was cold for a whole other reason, ha! Oklahoma. Anyway.
I started my warm-up and my feet went numb. It just took forever for my body overall to feel warmish and loose and comfortable, then I felt annoyed and overstuffed by too many jackets so I took one off, then I got cold etc etc etc. Just not finding a groove, and my thoughts were scattered and kind of in a downward spiral, emotionally. ahhhhhh
Then I noticed a grave with fake poinsettias on the side of the track?? Is that legal? It really bothered me.
Long story short, those intervals were sloppy and awful. Not even good enough to call a fartlek. I only hit the prescribed 10k pace twice out of five times, and even then my running was all over the place. Too fast, then too slow, then too fast again, then winded. These workouts are supposed to be disciplined, and I was not. Total miles: 8.05 at a 9:34 pace, including the weird warm up. Boo.
But I am happy to have stayed at the park and tough it out even when I knew I had screwed up the workout. If there’s a silver lining here, it’s the learning experience: Warm up for longer if needed, eat more wisely before running hard, and do not listen to music that makes you sad, especially when you’re already battling negative thoughts. And stick it out. Finish even if it’s terrible.

Wednesday: Got my morning stuff done and laced up a bit earlier on Wednesday, and once I started running I really felt great. Thanks to my husband, I ran with fresh new music too, yay! I was aiming for 10 miles but stopped early with a sharp pain in my right foot, something much worse than just a sore arch. It became more painful throughout the day. That evening I stretched and iced and rolled it as much as possible, hoping to not be sidelined at all. 8.86 miles (10:19 fairly smooth steady pace)

Let’s agree that two disappointing days in a row were close to messing with my positive attitude. Have I told you how much I rely on running to keep me feeling cleansed, not funky, especially when my personal life is in turmoil?

Oh. Wednesday night I made a new recipe that was pretty great for me but something about it upset my husband’s stomach, so I doubt we will be repeating it except for a crowd.

Spicy shrimp peanut lo mein. Click here for the basic noodle sauce, and then add some lime-garlic marinated shrimp, roasted broccoli, plain peanuts, and siracha!

Thursday: This should have been my tempo day, but I woke up to excruciating pain in my right foot. So I took the day off and reminded myself how some smart prevention and a short break can prevent a much longer timeout and worse pain. After chores, grocery shopping, and yoga I spent the day walking, icing, rolling, stretching, and more walking, icing, rolling, and stretching. I resisted that old impulse to freak out. Zero miles.

Friday: I woke up feeling good enough to run and made it to the park for 10.01 miles at an easy pace (9:54 pace is about a minute slower than my MGP), celebrating gobs of crisp, bright sunshine. Friday renewed my hope, and I was so glad to have stuck with it day by day. I almost cried with relief.

Emotional rollercoaster much?

Saturday: I woke up hurting again but not in a stabby, pathetic, limping way. I could probably have rested, but with a small pep talk and green light from my husband I laced up and managed 6.54 quick miles. These got chalked up as more or less as my tempo for the week (9:14 average pace, which is about 15 seconds per mile too slow, but considering the sharp wind and my foot pain, this is where I say “effort is effort.”) By the end of this run I was in lots and lots of pain. Not just from tight tendons but also from that wicked blister that had magically invented its own blister on top and callous beneath. Very sexy.

On Saturday I did get weirdly happy about an alert on my Garmin saying my V02Max was climbing. So I had that going for me, ha!

Also, we spent the afternoon running errands in the Moore-Norman area, and a window-shopping expedition at OK Runner turned into purchasing some brand new shoes! On sale, too. I love them and am announcing publicly that they are a drop-dead awesome early Valentine gift.

Sunday, last day of week six: We slept so late that Klaus was freaking out, ha! Then we took our coffee outside and luxuriated in the hot tub foooorrreeevvver. It was pure magic, just watching the sky, giving thanks for some shifting energy in our family, and making good plans for the farm. I stretched and scraped my arch and heel against underwater hard surfaces as we chatted, gradually realizing it felt pretty good. The blister monster had healed overnight (thank you Neosporin!) and I was eager to close out the week’s 47 miles. Once we wrapped up Hot Tub Summit I found running clothes as quickly as I could and drove to the lake. 8.44 miles, very comfortable and deeply unwinding, at a 9:55 pace. I am loving that those easy paces are becoming difficult to keep easy, if that makes sense. That’s good, right? It wasn’t very long ago that I was celebrating an hour at 11 minutes per mile. But I re-read the “easy running” chapter before each time to internalize the physiological benefits, and I listen to calming podcasts on these runs to keep myself from sprinting all sloppy.

Total weekly miles: 48.01. I hardly “nailed” either of my SOS workouts, and this step-back week did not call for a long run, so I guess overall I’m just happy to have completed the miles and worked through the beginning of an injury that could have become much worse. And I am still so happy to be doing this!

10 Takeaways from Week 6:

Eat smart. Absolutely no milk before running.
Wear clothes that fit right. Duh.
Keep doing yoga but incorporate some strength work too (are weak hips contributing to chronic plantar fasciitis?)
Replace shoes more often to prevent wear and tear blisters, etc.
Take one day at a time, one workout at a time, and rest when needed.
And do not allow one funky day to snowball into a bad week. Most trouble can be salvaged.
Ice, roll and stretch regularly and as prevention, not just when you’re in pain.
Be thankful for every single mile…xoxo
Surround yourself with inspiring people!
Keep your thoughts positive to support good running. It matters.

How was your week of running? I really would love to hear. When my local running friends post updates I read them voraciously and look at everything I can on Garmin Connect, but I want the stuff that statistics don’t tell us, too. The motivation, the physical changes, emotional rollercoasters, new music. The weather! Tell me everything.

“Success isn’t owned. It’s leased.
And rent is due every day.”
~J.J. Wyatt
XOXOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm: yoga mantras by adriene

February 2, 2018

Hey friends, happy Friday AGAIN. And happy first Friday of a brand new month. And Happy Groundhog Day! According to tradition, we are supposed to expect six more weeks of cold weather. However. If you’re curious about what the Almanac has to say, read this. Our long-range forecast sounds ok.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. Time flies so quickly that all we really have to focus on is making the most of Every. Single. Day. If we fill them with enough Love and good things, six weeks can pass as beautifully as two.

Carpe the Diems, warm or cold, rain or shine! Gratitude in every circumstance, right? Count it All Joy as my husband says.

Okay. Speaking of gratitude, I just wrapped up that luscious month of daily yoga practice with Adriene, having completed her new series called TRUE, and I adored it. She teaches, inspires, and just invites you to promote your own well being in deeper ways.

For a Friday 5 this week I want to share some of my favorite mantras she offers on repeat.

“Tap into that inner smile.” This is better than faking happiness. It’s a private affirmation, and it can be a wellspring of energy, especially on days when it seems easier to be down. There is always joy available.
“Breathe in sync with your movement.” For me, this has everything to do with mindfulness as I work around the farm. It helps me continue praying while staying connected to the animals or the task at hand. It also helps a lot with running.
“Set your hands with a particular kind of love.” This calms me down when I try to do too many things at once. It reminds me to focus and be deliberate.
“Find freedom in the form, escape the pose.” Such a friendly, healthy nod toward individualizing any plan, any structure in adult life. This also serves as a reminder to pursue the marrow of any project, the deep meaning and essential benefits, not just the outward appearance of completion.
“Find what feels good.” Probably the line for which she is best known, and with good reason. I dare you to find an aspect of daily life where this doesn’t help.

Don’t you love these?

Something funny thing this past month was that so often what she offered as a meditation on any given day happened to really line up with that day’s Bible devotional (I’ve been reading Jesus Calling by Sarah Young). The echoes have been soothing. Fortifying.

Sad to think that so many years ago the internet was filled with warnings about how yoga contradicts Christianity.

How unfortunate to miss out on the harmony between body and spirit.

Morning glory vines doing some refreshing twists… xoxo I am excited to see this green again!

Ok!

If you have ever done yoga with Adriene, you probably have your own favorite mantras, so please share them! Did you follow a month of TRUE? Which days resonated with you, or did you discover a new pose or meditation that was magical for your body or spirit?

Have you decided to stick with a daily yoga practice in February and beyond? I have for sure. Everything about it feels sublime.

Don’t fret over the groundhog. Just get stuff done and be happy.

And do more yoga.

“Let us be full in whatever posture it is we are doing,
Just as we should be full in whatever we do in our lives.”
~B.K.S. Iyengar
XOXOXOXO

a nightmare, a memory, and promises

January 30, 2018

I am never not thinking about her. Day and night, whether I am alone or with people, she is there in the periphery at least but more often right up front, an up-close but silent line drawing around every face I see, every activity, every thought.

And I don’t know how much I am allowed to talk about it because at this moment there is nothing we can do but pray.

It’s not all worry or grief. I just plain miss her. Her voice, her smile, her skin. I miss her sense of humor, her plans, the way she loves her dogs and the mountains, the photos of what she’s cooking (she is such a wonderful, creative cook!). I miss our conversations, both deep and silly.

I miss that cozy assurance that she is my daughter and I am her mother and that no matter what happened during those years apart, no matter what people said and did, no matter how much time passed, it was always so. And it will always be so. I miss that assurance a lot. I fight voices every day whispering that the last few years were a lie, that she didn’t love me or that we didn’t actually regain that intimacy. That I was blinded by desperation.

She does appear in my dreams still, but less often in that magical way I experienced during her first long absence. Lately, they are nightmares, although sometimes those can deliver a spark of hope too.

Two nights ago I dreamed she was an infant and we were swimming together in dark purple water, barely lit from above by a single light source. It was a deep, narrow chute of water, like an underwater cave surrounded by nothing. She was drowning. Her tiny face angry and contorted, so blue it was almost black, silent but screaming, panicked for air, furious that she couldn’t breathe, terrified. I was below her. My legs were tied with corrugated pool hoses and wires, tied so tight I couldn’t kick. My arms were reaching out, my fingertips barely touching her. In that dream, I could feel her tiny, fleshy body bob against my hands. It was visceral. All I could do was just barely tap her through the water, toward the surface.

When she had an emergency appendectomy several years before all of this, her recovery was a miracle. Leading up to her discharge, she very much wanted to do everything the doctors told her to do, such as sit up on her own and learn again to twist out of bed. She was fighting both an infection from lack of antibiotics at the hospital and the normal abdomen pain from the gas they used to inflate her little belly for surgery. Moving on her own was important but uncomfortable, and it was difficult for me to not help her. One moment in particular as she was struggling to sit up, and I was struggling to watch her, she looked at me so sweetly and said, “Just a little nudge, Mama?” I rushed in and gave her the smallest nudge on her lower back and a little pressure on her upper arm, and she gripped me for balance. She twisted and sat up straight and stood up on her own. Gradually she walked and soon she felt so much better.

Just a little nudge, Mama?

In the dream, she was just a baby but she looked at me with those big brown China doll eyes and begged for help I couldn’t provide. Pleaded for it. Her face blue and her body slipping down into the dark water, her pale chubby legs kicking against the shadows.

Again I nudged her lightly, barely a tap, and the water floated her for a moment until she sank again. I cried out to God silently in my thoughts, “SAVE MY BABY, PLEASE COME GET HER, DON’T YOU SEE HER?? I CANNOT REACH HER, SHE IS SINKING!!”

Screamed it.

And He did. He reached down in that instant and pulled her swiftly to the surface, where she found air and warmth and sunlight just in time. I couldn’t see her anymore but I was relieved. I still felt could still feel the hoses around my legs and the thick, oily cold water all over my body, those details only dreams can make you feel.

She was gone but safe. And I woke up.

A little while after waking up I cried telling my husband about the dream, it was so terrifying. But saying it out loud I finally heard the promises:

God rescues when we are powerless.
He does see.
He does hear our silent screams.
He will show up just in time.
He loves her now just like when she was an infant, just like when she was a little girl in the hospital. Just like always.

Please keep praying for her.

There is so much more I could say, about what we have learned regarding helping and enabling, or maybe the differences between protecting and teaching, I don’t know. I don’t anything really excpet I miss her and love her so much. And she is so much pain and danger, and I cannot help her. Cannot even give her a nudge right now.

So my days are filled with animals and housework, running and cooking dinner. Unprecedented miracles (how can I tell them?) and awful nightmares. She remains with me every second, an indelible line drawing. My first baby, my friend, and so much more I cannot even express.

Several of you have loved ones in similar peril. I want you to know that every day when I pray for her, I pray for your babies too, no matter how old they are.

Several of you have reached out to privately share some of your own stories about overcoming, recovery, and straight up the miracle-working Love of God. I cannot thank you enough. It is all oxygen to us.

“And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?
Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea;
And there was a great calm.”
~Matthew 8:26
XOXOXOXO

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