Lazy W Marie

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

river not reservoir

Will you follow me on a short, meandering train of thought? This all occurred to me simultaneously, early this morning.

Are you, like me, a borderline obsessive list maker and goal tender? I keep a planner and myriad lists and charts for habit tracking, miles and paces ran, farm projects, holidays, seasonal work, animal needs, garden jobs, you name it. It helps me “stay on track,” I tell myself, but really what it does is soothe lots of insecurities about my contribution. It gives me an inky representation of my work, because deep down I know that I don’t do enough. Or maybe sometimes I do plenty, but I need the written proof, because no one else knows. Maybe if I die suddenly and someone asks, “What did she do with her life?” they could look at my multicolored planner and see. “Oh, good those habits seem very tidy. Nice.”

What if instead of keeping lists and calendars, instead of charting accomplishments and habits to make myself feel like a good enough person, I get back to counting blessings?

I had this thought early this morning, between a few picturesque moments. I lifted the east facing blinds to see the cotton candy daybreak, and then I walked outside with Klaus. The air was fresh and sweet, the cats were stretching on the sidewalk, campaigning for belly scratches and breakfast, and the birds were singing. SINGING. They produced actual music, not orchestrated by any human, and really beautiful. My mind was mechanically in gear about what to do first today, but the beauty of the moment, the safety and abundance of my life, quite undeserved (Or do I deserve it, a little? Have I fought hard enough for this, evolved enough finally?) overwhelmed me. I came back inside to make two very different cups of coffee, and the thought burst into my mind: “What if you stop counting the things you do and return to counting your blessings?””

I cannot tell you how scary this though felt at first, and then I judged myself for being scared of it. “Why? What is wrong with you?” I demanded of myself. What a clear message, that I have been relying so heavily on self and have been so feverishly feeding my ego, that I need to prove to my own mind so many ridiculous little things. No one else ever sees my lists; it is all for self assurance and carrot motivation.

And then there’s the notion of flow.

A few years ago, just before Pandemic actually, I had an unsolicited and overwhelming experience of Love that has stuck with me and taught me many lessons, the more I reflect on it. Part of the experience was being personally showered with specific encouragement about the ways I had impacted the lives of my friends and family. Dozens of people contributed, and I cried and cried. I wrote something at the time about “Leak Stop” in order to prevent my usual fleeting confidence from forgetting or dismissing it all. I tried to muscle myself into hoarding it all in my heart, you know? And that worked, to an extent. But I don’t think that’s what we’re really supposed to do with Love.

I don’t think we’re supposed to collect Love and keep it for ourselves, just be un-leaky reservoirs that receive lots of water and share it only in emergencies, or maybe grow stagnant. I think we’re supposed to be more like rivers that flow free and strong like the Thompson in Colorado. I think that instead of stopping up the leaks so I could keep more Love for myself, for bad days, I was fine being flexible and open, to share Love more boldly. Receive, give, receive, give, and flow with life giving energy day after day after day. How wonderful to be aligned daily with blessings and purposes. This has been one of my prayers for a few years, and I see it manifesting constantly. Weirdly, haha, I found a way to make that meditation into a task as well. Cool.

And maybe being obsessed with lists and accomplishments ironically stunts my contribution; maybe this lifestyle keeps me too oriented to self and keeps me from allowing Love to flow.

Counting blessings opens me up much more to wonder and gratitude, to magic and limitlessness. Not just small gorgeous details but also catastrophes avoided, abundance realized, joys fulfilled. I know this. I have known it for years, and still I sometimes need the reminder.

Our family has been in a little storm this past month that challenged my ability to stay in the moment and asked me to demonstrate what I have been learning these recent years about prayer, imagination, faith, trust, and free will. Will I spend energy worrying, regretting, and spiraling into what-if scenarios, or will I redeem energy for miracles? It’s been a private and inward job mostly, but the effects are very much three dimensional, very real and impactful to loved ones. What I’m saying is that prayer is a real force. Thoughts are things. And so, it matters where we focus. We have influence, but only by accessing Love. I am so thankful for the redirection this morning away from tasks and ego and back to the Absolute, the Source, the Field, as so many books refer to Love. Back to God.

How scary to realize the thinness of that line, the difference between trusting myself and trusting God.

And how wonderful to relax into being a conduit for power rather than needing to be a source of it, which is obviously impossible. There is only one Source.

Ok gotta go. I have a certain number of miles to run and a list of chores to finish, Ha! Otherwise I am not a real person, ok? I’m mostly kidding.

Harness your thoughts. Direct your energy. Love your life. It’s all here for us to enjoy and share, flowing back and forth.

XOXOXOXO

a close call with Dusty and a story about the leaf blower guy

The other day we had a scare with one of our horses, Dusty, the squatty, deep voiced grey and white cutie pie who has grown up with our girls. He is fine now, everything turned out great, but it was a tense and scary few hours.

Dusty in his younger, slimmer, fashion model days xoxo

In the middle of a hectic morning at work, my husband rushed home to help, and after an hour or so of watching and evaluating, we felt comfortable enough with Dusty’s progress to drive up the road to Tractor Supply Co for electrolytes and probiotic chews.

Tuesday was a warm and bright, violently windy day. The weather was beginning to turn, with both straight-line gusts and the twirling, circular kind of wind that creates sudden little leaf-and-stick tornadoes.

As we drove the few miles north, we passed a man tending his lawn with a leaf blower. In Oklahoma. On a wind advisory day.

He was really bundled up, as if the temperatures were actually about thirty degrees colder. He was wearing a thermal hat and massive gloves and jeans and boots, plus a substantial brown canvas coat, no doubt thickly insulated. I registered all of this plus his solemn expression. Then I marveled at the tedious attention he was paying to his leaf blower chore.

The dried oak leaves flew slightly away from his mechanical dismissal then spiraled back on him, then scattered sideways, then blew ahead of him in short, straight bursts, then flew wildly again, caught in another random gust. They flew up and away and directly over his hat. He was in the middle of a late winter ticker tape parade, like a cash tornado for people who believe that decomposing organic matter is black gold (these people are correct).

He was making exactly zero progress, but still he gripped that power tool with an air of focus and calm determination. He remained bent over his incomprehensible task. He walked slowly across the curved concrete driveway, pointing himself and his apparatus at each next area of chaos, and he never looked up or ahead of his immediate steps.

I have so many questions for him.

Maybe he was commanded by a spouse or an employer to do this job, regardless of weather, and dared not argue.

Maybe he recently received this leaf blower as a gift and thought a windy day would make for a fun maiden voyage.

Maybe he was in shock from some catastrophic family news and needed a rote, mind numbing activity to distract him, to help him gather his strength.

Maybe he was in covid-19 quarantine and needed to be outdoors for his mental health but couldn’t allow himself to just sit still.

Maybe he was an environmental scientist studying wind shears, but on, like, a really small scale.

Maybe he was a gardener desperate for some kind of gardening activity but couldn’t find his shovel.

Did he think he was helping something, serving some purpose? Was he having fun? Was that even his house, his leaf blower, his heavy coat? Maybe he was a shape shifter or an alien invader occupying Choctaw, Oklahoma, mimicking human behavior without really understanding the hilarity of the situation. (Forgive me, we have been watching lots of vintage X-Files.)

We drove past this man in the briefest moment, but he made such in impression on me. After we purchased the horse medicine at TSC and drove back south toward the farm, I looked for him. He was gone by then, but the leaves on his property (or on the property where the aliens had recently landed or where he is being held captive by a weird, mind-games playing taskmaster) were still swirling and thrusting against nothing with wild energy.

Maybe I had imagined him, except that I think my husband had seen him, too.

May be an image of 1 person, horse, nature and grass
We are so very thankful this boy is healthy and happy again!

Dusty continued to make progress all day, eventually acting exactly like his normal sweet, spicy self, eager to rejoin the bachelor herd and eat a late breakfast. I gave thanks constantly (gosh I love this horse) and thought too much about the things we do for animals, the care we try to provide, the good habits we try to maintain, the love we try to show. I thought about the prayers we whisper urgently when none of that seems to add up to enough.

I marveled at how little control we have over some things.

About as much control as the leaf blower guy.

XOXOXOXO

“I knew it would happen today!”

Three seperate times this week, a question has found its way into my view, and I cannot resist exploring it with you:

What if you woke up to discover
that all of your prayers had been answered?

One version of this idea was related to health and fitness. I woke up feeling great, which led to being curious about how different my routine would look if every bodily niggle was healed, every aesthetic hope fulfilled, and all my energy topped off. Would I run more miles, or less, and how would other activities like pilates and yoga fit in, if I am moving to feel my best instead of solving problems? Would I go on more adventures instead of exercising, or would I still need that time alone?

Then I was indulging in how different our family will feel when Jocelyn rejoins us (again). How complete and alive we will be with her among us again. What a blinding joy that will be!

I hang onto the vision I had in December 2019, of her and Bridget walking up to the kitchen door on a sunny day. She is all smiles, her enormous brown eyes wet and bright, her sweet olive skin, equal parts woman and little girl. She opens the door tentatively, and we hug fiercely without missing a beat. Everything good floods in. All the love. All the colors. We are crying from laughing and laughing from hugging. Without reservation, she tells me everything she has been through these past few years, and I listen without giving advice. She sinks in. We missed each other so much. Bridget remembers us and brings BW rocks to fetch, and everything else falls away.

Jocelyn tells me that she can fix Dusty’s hoof if I want her to, and she gently chastises me for not riding Chanta like she knows I want to. We share new music and movies and cook dinner together. She likes that I still listen to the songs she gave me in Colorado, and she tells me all about her new romance. I do my best to relay my sorrow about her Dad. She is home forever this time.

Then.

I think about how much happier my husband is when his work is rewarding, how it’s not the exertion or the hours at the office or the extreme multitasking (he can handle anything) so much as it is the deep satisfaction of making a difference in the world and with his people. This is an ongoing miracle unfolding in our life, and I wonder how much better it still can be.

I am excited for post-pandemic family time, free socializing, hostessing, volunteering, travel, all of it. What will it feel like to throw a party again, to drive to New Orleans and the beach and to eat in restaurants? To annoy my friends again with attack hugs? So good.

We are just weeks away from true springtime, and that familiar knowledge, despite the arctic air headed for us this week, helps me feel some of this more concretely. The relief!

I can think of dozens more big miracles my heart craves and how it might feel to realize they have happened. That they are unfolding. Often when I am running at the lake or on trails, my mind is just playing movies, visualizing the fruition of our deepest hopes. It’s the fabric of prayer for me, the beautiful unfolding of all those petitions.

In fact, they are unfolding already. That is the root and truth of my faith. That everything is just a matter of time and trust. Everything expands and grows. Everything is subject to the power of Love, and on some level it already accomplished. Every good thing is very much worth the wait. Hang in there, friends.

“I knew it would happen today!”
~Shrek musical
XOXOXOXO

friday 5 at the farm: mantras lately

Since last we spoke, the farm’s electricity has been restored and life is pretty much business as usual again. Handsome has been working steadily to chainsaw the tree limbs we lost (so many), and I have been luxuriating in the pleasures of modern housekeeping and seasonal nesting. We believe most everyone in our immediate circles except my parents, who live near Penn Square Mall, and our friend Dennis who lives in Del City, are powered again and getting back to normal. Thank goodness Oklahoma weather is sublime now, making outdoor meals and open windows perfectly comfortable.

For a Friday 5 at the Farm this week, I have some mantras to offer you. These sweet, simple ideas have fit snugly into my thinking lately, and they have challenged me, too. I hope they feed you in some way.

“What More is Possible?”
I adore this sentence! It is the deepest feeling I have, that is so often tamped down into a stifled, unwilling calm by minimalism, scarcity, exterior control, etc. Those are just not part of my natural groove, and it’s silly to pretend that they are. What more is possible? is on my kitchen chalkboard wall right now, and it keeps me tingling with excitement about all kinds of stuff in life. It reminds me, for one, that my strong appetites and high energy are good gifts. Life is meant for living and living fully!

“Do More With All You Have.“
Again, a refreshing bounce away from the scarcity mindset. The old version of resourcefulness was “do more with less,” but MAN! We are so abundantly blessed, in so many ways! I keep this sentence in plain view too, and it inspires me to lay hold of my various resources more proactively and to squeeze more from them, day to day, week to week. For me, this applies to living space, time, and energy as much as to finances and objects, etc.

“Well Being is the Only Stream That Flows.“
This is a brand new concept to me, one outlined in an alluring book I have been reading extra slowly. Think of well being as a stream of electricity, one that can only be stopped or interrupted by a switch. Darkness itself (or negativity, or un-wellness) is not its own power stream; it is just the absence of light, which we can control. OK, I could talk about this one all day. I have been experimenting with more specific thought patterns, and so far I love the results.

“Strong Backs, Soft Hearts, WILD HEARTS!”
Thank you Brene Brown! Her short and sweet, deeply nourishing November 4th podcast episode on Unlocking Us provided this. If you have 22 minutes soon, check it out. Strong backs keep us safe and grounded, well framed in our values and foundations. Soft fronts keep us vulnerable and connected to each other (we are designed to live in community). Wild hearts, well, authenticity and greedy, lusty, life-giving universal expansion are the name of my game right now. She could not have said anything better to release me for more joy! Toward the end, Brene mentions “irreducible needs,” which blew my mind in the best way. Human beings all have the same needs which cannot be ignored or minimized. For me, it’s a better way to think of rights.

“I Wish to See the Highest Possible Outcome.”
Turning away from worries (that door can absolutely stay closed), keeping our gaze on not just some small successes and joys but on the highest possible successes and joys, the very best outcomes for every situation great and small, this is a good and powerful intention. A very good focus and expectation. I use this mantra from small, private hopes and prayers way up to the Presidential election, and everything in between. So much is possible! So often in the past I have limited my hopes and prayers by asking too small, too specifically, with too much self abasement or false humility, do you know what I mean? I am unlearning that and diving deep into everything I wish for myself and our people, for the world, truly. The highest possible outcome will always include answers beyond my wildest dreams, because God’s ideas are better. His solutions and creativity are so far beyond my own, it’s exciting. He delivers that shock and awe kind of bliss.

Okay friends, happy Friday! Happy weekend! I am off to visit Jess and Alex and Bean for a hot minute, then I crave a double digit run before the weekend gets rolling. We have a few special things in store here, and I am excited.

I hope you are staying centered and calm in the midst of widespread chaos; I hope you feel loved; and I hope your needs are far beyond met. I hope you have enough to share, both materially and energetically. Thank you as always for checking in.

Ask largely!
XOXO