Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

january t.g.i.f.

Hello, and happy Friday! Here’s a Brene Brown-style “TGIF” as we wrap up a short work week. I am feeling so good and hope you are, too. If not, I hope you know how to change that, no matter your circumstances. Taking the reigns on our emotions is a superpower. It’s how we change our actual, three-dimensional worlds.

((January reds laying the groundwork for Valentine’s Day soon))
((visiting mallards fluttering away from the pond))
((little Miss Hissy fit still not comfy with Klaus))

TRUSTING: I am trusting that Jocelyn is safe and healthy, as happy as a young woman can be, and that deep down she knows she is loved and treasured beyond words. I am trusting God’s timing and healing and the joyful power of all those reunions in recent years. We are trusting that Marigold passed as peacefully as she appeared to and that she felt our intense love. We are trusting that rainfall will replenish Oklahoma, that hay prices will soon adjust, and that our sweet old horses will stay healthy for many more years. I am also trusting in the timing of some personal goals (two book proposals and a few really unique community events here at the farm!).

GRATEFUL: Gratitude is the name of the game lately, ha! I am so grateful for a safe, comfortable, happy home, for this big, glorious nest we cultivate together, for our marriage, for all the daily Love between us and around us. We are immersed in Love that gets expressed in so many beautiful ways. I am thankful for constant, fun and meaningful communication with Jess and Alex, for quality time with family, for easy times with friends and neighbors and their precious dogs (Klaus’ best friends), when we all laugh so hard and just relax and make memories. We are thankful that the hens are laying big, colorful eggs again and that some long fought battles at the Commish are slowly yielding real success. I feel the beginning of relief coming, and it’s a thrill. Another cool thing for which I am grateful is that my husband has rekindled his Car Guy instincts and is waist deep in a new renovation project! He always seems happier with a big mechanical toy at his disposal, and his happiness makes me happy.

INSPIRED: Lately I have gulped in the beauty of art forms I am unlikely to ever even attempt myself, much less master, but they have nonetheless inspired me. Dancers, musicians, and painters are just amazing. They practice their elaborate crafts, create brand new works, share generously, and make the world infinitely more beautiful and interesting! Many of our actual friends are spending their lives as artists, and I just feel so lucky to absorb it all. It wells up inside me and inspires me to do more of my own creative work. I am also inspired, as all gardeners are in January, by the myriad possibilities of a brand new growing season. Recently I attended a master gardeners’ meeting where Julia, the Extension Director, shared a slideshow of her trip through England, and of course those gardens gave me so many ideas. Boundless beauty, such inventive themes. Also? I am thinking specifically of Van Gogh and his combination of gardens with painting. I think we need another painting day here at the Lazy W gardens. It’s been too long. We are also hosting a garden tea party in early spring. Does anyone want to come dance? We can make it a true bohemian day.

FAITH: We are still not attending church services, but My private faith practice is pretty nourishing. I love to start the day early with a short devotional, the related Bible passages, and usually journaling. Then I do walking meditations during breakfast chores. These ebb and flow with life and that day’s prayer requests. I have learned to stay in a posture of saying thank you all day long, of constantly naming blessings as they cross my mind, and of thanking God in advance for blessings showered on my people, for solutions to problems we are facing, for surprise miracles not yet seen. This practice not only feels wonderful; it yields stunning results. I strongly encourage you to sample it in your own life. Just thank God in advance for His help, internalize the sensation of your prayer being answered, and watch what happens. So simple. Also along the lines of practicing faith, I have become more protective over my own spirit lately, guarding more than ever the content of my information diet. I just don’t have the stomach for serial killer or murder mystery stories right now, nor really anything too tragically sad. The ideas and images in which I allow my heart to marinate quickly take shape in my days, in my attitude, in how I see the world, and really I just want more of the good, beautiful stuff. To that end, my podcast subscriptions, books, and video choices are heavily weighted to happiness studies and health, spiritualty, gardening, uplifting stories, you name it. I cannot remember that last time I finished even a short episode of a crime documentary, and that’s fine by me.

Okay, your turn! In what ideas or in whom are you trusting? For what are you grateful? What’s been inspiring you lately? And how are you practicing your personal faith? I would love to hear.

Happy Friday, friends,
and have the most luscious weekend.
XOXOXOXO

a few of my favorite average moments at the farm

Sometimes a few average things happen here at the farm that take my breath away and leave me buzzing with pleasure. If you have a moment to join me, I would love to read something from your everyday life that thrills you.

After weeks of raking thin flakes of hay from large, tightly wound bales, the moment always comes when the dense core is exposed and everything relaxes. That feeling of my strong metal rake toothing itself into the final thick layer of reluctant dry grass is so exciting. I can feel the breakthrough about to happen. Then I feel the whoosh, the great exhale and collapse of all that necessary tension. I relish the sight of hay falling in heaps and layers to the ground. The core is solid and heavy but manageable, and it tips over with a little effort. A giant cylinder of food for the horses. For a few weeks after this, the hay comes in thicker, friendlier sheets. And I always crave to make cinnamon rolls for someone.

Every sunset and every daybreak is special, and I am always thankful to catch either. I especially love dramatic skies, purple clouds with hot pink underbellies, backlit metallic banks of clouds, streaky sunrays extending further than necessary and exactly as far as they want. I love it when the western sky reflects across the farm onto the bowl of the eastern sky, and vice versa. Our house sits in a way that displays the roundness of the heavens. And I love it when the various colored lights clings to trees and buildings and, at very special moments, animals. Light blessings. Kisses everywhere.

How sensual to walk around the gardens and smell herbs recently disturbed. Someone has been scraping through mint and oregano and rosemary. Someone has made a snack of Thai basil. Lemon balm, tomato vines, parsley. All of it available to everyone. Cats or chickens emerge, peaceful. I would grow a garden just for these silent, fragrant moments.

Every morning after breakfast chores, Klaus and I walk the front paths to pray and lay groundwork for the day ahead. Lately the prairie grasses have ripened into warm colors and many have grown their feathery tassels and plumes. I scout for blood grass and sumac, and he scouts for deer. I love the ever tightening corners where pine trees flank the walkway and threaten to grow into canopies above us. I love the profusion of yellow wildflowers. I love the flattened areas in the meadow where deer have been sleeping. I especially love the joy on Klaus’ face when he meets his “babies” and they leap and sprint away from him with unbelievable grace.

When the weather is just right, hanging laundry outside is a great pleasure. I love seeing bedsheets and towels billowing on clean breezes while working in the garden. I love catching the horses nap beneath the fabric. I love the heavy scent of ozone that comes with us back to the house with that basket full of dry, crisp fabric.

Sometimes I visit the chicken coop and discover eggs so recently laid they are still hot to the touch. Sometimes I check squash and pumpkin vines and discover that yesterday’s fruits have doubled in size. Sometimes the morning glories are still blooming at lunchtime, and woody sunflower stalks that had broken from their own glorious weight are suddenly growing new shoots. These quiet details, all proof of Life that wants more and more of its own energy. Amazing and encouraging.

Happy Thursday, friends.
May you notice and swallow whole
every pleasure available to you.
XOXOXO

miracles brewing in the late summer storms

Around sunset one evening last week, a mild storm gathered. We walked around the farm gathering the free range birds, I flaked out some bedtime hay for the horses, and Handsome obliged Klaus with his requisite post-dinner fetch throws. The skies grew bruised and moody, the clouds lowered, and a cool wind combed over us. After such a brutal heat wave and drought most of the summer, these were foreign details, sensations we had almost forgotten.

I grabbed my husband’s hand and said, “Let’s pray for the kids. For everyone.”

We stood in the front yard between the house and the yurt and faced north to watch the swirling, dimensional weather. We continued holding hands and prayed aloud for those closest to us. We prayed for some hard situations at the Commission, too. We prayed for a few dear friends. We gave thanks for innumerable miracles in our lives, both very old and very recent. We gave thanks for this little farm that has survived another extreme weather season, for all the birthdays, for all the fun and hard work and rest afforded us.

We prayed for the kids again.

And my heart lifted.

I got that giggling feeling that so often starts in my hips and rises through my belly and lungs. I let it bloom into a smile while we prayed and watched the Pine Forest and listened to the chickens quiet down. It felt wonderful and natural to be submitting needs and wants to God without begging Him. And in the shadow of the front edge of that storm, I felt revolution coming.

Today more fresh weather rolled in, an even cooler and much gentler rainstorm. I was at the local reservoir running a few easy miles, and the sky grew thick and woolly. The first few raindrops might have been my own sweat, but soon enough the moisture felt cold and consistent. I let it soak me and remembered many of the prayers we uttered a few nights ago. I thought back over the years, of how many miracles have burst forth in our life in what appeared to be an instant. One phone call, a sudden announcement at the office, an email, a visitor. A realization.

Everything can turn on a dime, and that is to be celebrated, not feared.

As we begin a brand new month and likely a new season, my heart feels stronger than it has, maybe, in years. I feel more attuned to Love and more expectant of miracles big and small, and this time in a much happier, less desperate way. Because this is how life is supposed to be. Rich with blessings and mercy. Alive with texture, change, mystery, peace, adventure, and Love.

I bid adieu to August in an Instagram post and my husband said it almost made him cry. I get it. Summer is a fun, free, celebratory time. August contains his birthday, too! And we always hate to see certain chapters close.

But this next little bit will be so good. Probably better in many ways. Maybe with fewer difficulties. Because all the late summer storms are hiding miracles we have not yet seen. Answers that we have sought earnestly and should absolutely expect at just the perfect moment.

As I finish writing this, rain has picked up pace. It is pinging and echoing in the chimney. Klaus is on the concrete floor, snoring contentedly. The farm is, otherwise, nearly silent. Ready for and open to whatever is coming our way.

Trust in the Goodness of Life
XOXOXOXO

new aquarius moon, senses inventory

Today is Thursday, Februrary 11, 2021, this winter’s New Moon in Aquarius. According to my journal, it is Day 332 in “quarantine,” although that word has shifted meaning over the months. Nearly a year, though, since all this started. Amazing.

In Oklahoma we have just 36 days till spring and 63 days till danger of frost has passed. My friend Rose will like that number play. In the mean time, we are already bitter cold and bracing for an historic snow storm this weekend.

Earlier today, I spent a few minutes taking a Senses Inventory. It felt like a good day to mark the moment then deeply inhale fresh energy.

SEE: A stack of thank you cards I am writing for our Outreach projects. Two vases filled with dried wedding flowers, mostly roses. Verdant houseplants in almost every direction. Shiny clean mixing bowls drying on the kitchen counter. Handwritten notes from my friends Kelly, Lori, and Brittany. Brightly painted artwork. Snow and frost covering everything I see outside, in the south yard.

HEAR: A rooster crowing about either his breakfast or his love life, maybe both. Klaus snoring gently after a busy round of morning chores. My husband’s muffled voice filtering from his upstairs office, firm and authoritative, serious, on the verge of angry. (Edit to add: he was definitely angry.) Also, music from the kitchen, a rotation of Lana Del Rey and Billie Eilish.

TOUCH: Hot, tingly hands from scrubbing dishes. Legs bouncy and energetic, ready to run! Nose raw from constant Kleenex attention this week.

SMELL: Bleach cleaner, dish soap, freshly baked cinnamon pumpkin bread, and the cold. The cold has a fragrance today.

TASTE: Oily aftertaste of the unsalted pepitas and raisins I ate while baking earlier. Tepid water laced with liquid biotin drops, not quite citrusy, not too good.

THINK: Reflecting on a wonderful dream I had last night. Also thinking about Jocelyn’s first cabin in the mountains, the one she remodeled, and of the time I visited her in April but we got snowed in. We got donuts and made coffee twice and her houseplants were thriving. Later, we hiked on Trail Ridge Road by moonlight. All of Colorado’s magic was housed in her petite body. Today, here at the farm, feels like that day, and I can’t stop thinking about it. About her.

FEEL: I feel amorous, romantic, silly. Also widly hopeful about everything in the world that matters deeply, especially our family. Not the kind of hopeful that is gripping and determined, but rather, the floaty, shimmering, giggling kind of hopeful, like something wonderful is about to happen. I am also very excited for deep snow at the farm, movies, cuddling, and playing games all weekend.

Share details from one of your senses with me!

XOXOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm, daily rituals to thrive in quarantine (or any time)

Quarantine Day 55 according to my journal.

How are you holding up, friend, really? Are you safe and secure? Are you finding ways to cultivate health, and are you choosing joy as often as you see it as a choice? Are you learning anything from this bizarre life chapter, gleaning any new wisdom or opening your heart again to any old truths? Or are you barely scraping by, either physically or emotionally, wondering how you’ll make it through several more weeks or months of unknowns, when so many days are long and heavy as they are? Are you on a roller coaster, trading self awareness for depression, then back again? Are you connecting with loved ones deeply and often enough?

I think many of us can say yes to all of this, if not all at once, then in waves. And I think it is all pretty much to be expected. The good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful. I am no expert, but this global experience sure feels like just a compression of the human experience, you know? The bitter and the sweet. The high and the low. And so a level measure of acceptance and a hefty sense of humor will serve us well.

Additionally, I find lots of comfort and strength in practicing the habits and systems I discovered in better times. I am leaning hard into those, then allowing space and breath to kind of take over from there.

For a Friday 5 at the Farm post on this gorgeous Mother’s Day weekend, I would like to offer five daily habits or rituals that really do seem to help me feel and perform my best.

1. SPIRIT: I try to read, meditate, and journal first thing in the morning. The perpetual devotional Jesus Calling has been my favorite for a few years now, and I love seeing notes in the page margins from past life chapters. I love reading inspirational material and absorbing directive scriptures while my heart is warm and pliable. Usually, after a good night’s sleep, my brain has lots to download into a spiral notebook, and that first cup of strong coffee facilitates it well, ha! This used to be a truly private few minutes of my day, but lately I have grown cozy with the habit of doing all of this in bed with one lamp on, while my husband watches first the morning news then an episode of Little House on the Prairie. It’s a sweet, mellow way to start the new day. And you wouldn’t believe the symmetry and harmony in the messages I am receiving!

2. WORK: My daily work is truly a pleasure and has for a long time been boiled down to a succinct list of “Minimum Daily Actions” which can be accomplished in about an hour. It’s just the basics that keep our house and animals tended, and the walk-about is my opportunity to plan further tasks. That leaves the rest of the day for all kinds of deeper housework or tackling interesting projects, but the first hour of work feels almost sacramental. I love getting dressed to do what absolutely must be done, and Klaus, my constant companion, loves it too. He knows the exact order of our chores, he knows our rhythm, and he understands a few phrases that signal changes. I walk and feed everyone and smooth things and align lists and supplies and give thanks, actively. This sets the framework for an easy, productive day, and it really can feel sacramental. Meditative.

3. MOVE: Daily exercise for the sake of exercise, something outside of normal activity, is a game changer. And for me, daily exercise apart from marathon training has been deeply refreshing. I try to give myself ninety minutes of conscious variety. Triggered by a little injury, I am learning to listen to what my body needs day to day, not just run all the miles. The time for that will return soon enough. For now? I am embracing the pleasures of yoga and strength and mobility work, with treadmill and trail miles sprinkled in, and hopefully soon we will ride our bicycles too. Movement equals energy and endorphins!

4. SKY WATCH: If at all possible, and it almost always is, I love to be physically outdoors when the sun rises and sets, and when the moon is visible. It does wonders for settling my spirit and helping me watch the slow passage of time. Oklahoma has famously picturesque skies, too. Such a simple, profound way to see what God does for us over and over again.

5. CONNECT: I am making a deliberate effort to make eye contact with my husband when he speaks to me, and to be a better conversationalist in general. Being alone most daytime hours, then being only in each other’s company after work hours, as much as we enjoy it, I tend to take him for granted. This is common, I know, but I want to be better than common. He is my favorite person, and I don’t want to waste these weeks of quarantine by slipping into sloppy autopilot. (Also, I am susceptible to losing my verbal skills entirely if I don’t make an effort to speak full sentences and use more than the baby talk I use with the animals. Anyone else? No, just me? Gulp.) Connecting with friends and family has been vital, too. Weekend Zooms, a virtualgame night here and there, a surprise day of chalk art, and lots more actual phone calls have all kept my most precious bonds thriving.

So that’s it! Five ways I am keeping myself more or less on a healthy track, more or less connected to a sense of purpose and wellness. What are you doing to feel your best? I would love to hear. And happy Mother’s Day weekend to my friends and family!! Talk soon. Love you.

This is temporary.
Soak up the beautiful parts.
XOXOXOXO