Lazy W Marie

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

first friday 5 at the farm of 2021

ONE: Our new year has started with lots of shakeup to the routine, some very real family surprises, and plenty of coffee. Everything was good and solid. And then on Wednesday the ugliness at our nation’s Capitol. What I feel, though? What I feel deep in my bones is this unlikely thrill of victory and resilience, despite the lunacy and violence. Like so many other times in life, specifically so many dots on the timeline last calendar year, I feel excitement about what we as humans can endure, reframe, and use as kindling for a brand new fire. So many new fires growing everywhere, warming us and burning away the deadwood. Love wins.

Late last year I heard a podcast that touched on the idea of “resiliency data points.” It was actually about running injury recovery and bouncing back from disappointing races, but it sank into my heart for bigger reasons. You know the devastation when life comes crashing down and new crises constantly threaten to destroy our hardwon peace and equanimity? We all experience that. Sometimes, even, the most secure strongholds are shaken or removed completely. And yet, we are still here. We continue to discover new markers for growth and endurance in all areas of life. That’s what I mean about victory and resilience. Despite it all, we are more than surviving; we are quietly thriving. Maybe because of it all, we are getting stronger and more centered, less distractable from what matters most, more pliable and reflexive, more generous, laser focused on Love.

Thanks for allowing my mixed metaphors, always.

TWO: Bean is the sweetest, smartest beggar. He is also getting faster and stronger every single week. Noone flies and sprints like he does! His eyes, both the blue one and the green one, sparkle with energy and happiness. We gave him his very own tetherball for Christmas, mounted on a pole and everything in his very own backyard, and he tore it down within a few days, ha! So strong.

THREE: Okay, are you eating enough plants? Are you moving enough, and maybe in new ways that might surprise you? What are you reading these days, and how are you feeding your soul? I need lots of warming foods, nourishing books, freedom running, and time working outside to feel like myself. Life is affordng me plenty of it all lately, for which I am so thankful.

FOUR: We have secrets and surprises brewing at the farm, friends, and I am good at neither. This buildup of Love is more than enough to keep the bad news in perspective.

FIVE: One quick story before I wish you well on this cold and hopeful Friday: I saw a man wearing a plain black covid mask. He removed it for an unknown reason, revealing his beard. His beard was very short, closely groomed to his face, more like unnaturally black pencil shading really, and with precise edges, in exactly the same shape as the mask he had just removed. I kid you not. It was like the mask had left its shadow in the form of facial hair?? I could not stop looking at this. He caught me staring, trying to figure this out, and I am pretty sure he smirked, like finally his joke on the world landed on an unsuspecting stranger with a weakness for people watching. I had to take a deep breath and pivot my shoulders forty five degrees away from him to break the trance. The End.

Remember you already prayed about this.
It’s going to be okay.
XOXOXOXO

an army of love & we will survive

A quick word of encouragement before we all pursue our own strange and unusual Pandemic style New year’s Eve celebrations.

This week on the treadmill I rewatched Searching For Bobby Fischer, and a scene near the end of the movie reminded me of something Jessica said this summer.

The scene was when the little boy was nearing this climactic championship chess game and nervousness had overtaken him. He was no longer playing for the love of the game (a whole other excellent topic), and he was terrified of losing to the new prodigy on the block, a very real possibility. Slowly, the camera showed us that not only had his Mom and Dad found their common ground and rallied to support him together; but also his speed chess friend from Central Park (presumably a bad iunfluence) and his more disciplined, traditional teacher (highly competitive and previously sworn off of attending touranemnts) had come together. All of them were there cheering for him, supporting him, hanging on every move, and fascinated by his magic. But the best part was that they all clearly, finally, loved him regardless of both the outcome and his methods; and all of their personalities assembled and combined to become this formidable wall of Love.

An Army of Love, is what Jessica called it back in June.

Two or three days after her Dad died, observing the constant and drenching tidal wave of support she and Jocelyn were receiving from loved ones from whom they had previously been alienated for so many long years, she said that she suddenly saw everyone as an Army of Love surrounding her and her sister. I soaked that up and told her gently that we have always been here, all along.

I believe firmly that we are, each of us, buffered and strengthened by an Army of Love; maybe we just need to look around and see it. I believe in supernatural forces that protect us, inspire us, make us better. We can survive anything. We can draw on the various strengths and gifts of the Army of Love dedicated to our well being. We can also live in ways that make us worthy of being in someone else’s Army of Love, for their survival and well being. We are made for community, and we all thrive in it.

Okay, that’s it for today. Thank you from deep in my heart for reading here all year long, friends. Thank you for sharing your stories and listening to mine, for being such strong, shimmering conduits for Love. I wish you all the very best of the coming new year. You will survive anything.

“Infect em with love”
XOXOXO

goodbye pacino

Saturday morning I found Pacino deceased at the bottom of his overnight cage. We are in shock and hurting, filled with questions (we do not know what happened) and just plain longing for him to still be alive. Thank you for reading a little bit about his life, and if you can, we would love to hear your Pacino stories in comments, for our memories.

We adopted him as a hatchling the summer my husband turned 30. We were fairly newlywed still, and the girls were so small. He was a tiny, cobalt blue and bright yellow macaw with a short, perfect tail and enormous, cartoonishly out of proportion eyes that studied everything and everyone. Those eyes were set in two fields of vivid zebra-stripe face feathers.

We held him gently and stared at him in awe, sometimes all day long. The girls made pillowy nests for him inside cardboard boxes. His meals those first several weeks were liquid formula. He gobbled it up through flexible straws we held for him, and he bobbed and jerked his head and neck greedily to get every drop. This was a brief season, and a good, solid bonding one. I remember wondering during those weeks if this tiny, quiet, unmoving bird would ever walk or make a sound.

My husband named him Bobby Pacino, after two of his favorite actors, Robert DeNiro and Al Pacino. Known far and wide as just Pacino, over time his personality became famous, part of our own identity I suppose. More than extensions of us, he was his own person. The life energy he lent to our little family is hard to quantify.

He was a handful, for sure. Messy, noisy, demanding, sometimes uncooperative, occasionally violent but mostly in self defensive ways, and can I say loud and messy twice? Past infancy, macaws are neither quiet nor tidy creatures. His tail eventually grew long, his eyes gradually fit his frame, and his voice and energy levels exploded out of nowhere.

But! Pacino was also unbelievably smart and articulate, dazzlingly beautiful and prone to groom himself for long periods of time, but without ever plucking his feathers out. He was gregarious, appreciative, energetic, and easily one of the most affectionate animals I have ever met or even heard mention of.

Pacino was highly sensitive to moods and attitudes. He was perceptive, trusting some people quickly and others not at all. He bonded tightly to his favorite people. He sometimes held a small grudge against us when we travelled but always forgave us quickly and resumed the love fest soon. This was one of the times he delivered a hard bite. I was on the receiving end of it, and I can attest to how strong that shiny hooked beak was. But again, within minutes we were cuddling.

Pacino certainly found his voice, ha! My concerns over his quiet beginning were quickly dispelled. He squawked and sang and make all the Amazonian bird calls he was born to make, whether we wanted him to or not; and he mimicked and learned and spoke words and phrases in an eerily human voice, frequently joining in conversations and sprinkling in laughter at perfectly appropriate moments. Meaning, he got our jokes and was gracious with how funny we were or were not. We always loved for people to hear Pacino laugh (hahaha!) and ask us, “Was that the bird?” He sounded so much like a person. My god we miss that sound. Did you know that he learned to play Gone Gone Peekaboo in one afternoon? He was less than six months old.

A few years ago, with very little effort, I was able to catalog over 120 words and phrases Pacino had mastered then. On Saturday when we told Jessica the sad news, she suggested that we write another list now, to memorialize him. So if there’s a special thing he ever said to you, something that stands out, feel free to send it our way and we will add it to the list.

If you only saw photos of him online or met him at chaotic parties, then you never got to see Pacino at his best. He thrived on face to face interaction. He loved to be spoken to directly, and held, and he loved to dance. He has a particular swaying move which he did with his short legs stuck out stiff and his feathery shoulders kind of shrugging, his beak up in the air, yellow chest puffed out. We called it his Stevie Wonder dance, and we always sang to him, “I just called… to say… I love you…” We were usually rewarded with a happy operatic reply. We are going to miss that little ritual, hard.

He always appreciated a good snack and was adept to playing the “Do you wanna bite” game, going for up to twenty minutes of gasping, dramatic, sideways pacing without doing his part to close the circuit. Then he finally say his part, “I wanna bite!” and laugh.

Here is Pacino being kept happy with a candy cane. Behind him is a surprise Handsome painted for me. The French words mean, “Always Now and Forever.” xoxo

Speaking of snacks: Pacino loved cookies and crackers, apple cores, pizza, French fries (especially McDonald’s), raw jalapeño peppers, strawberries, grapes, any kind of batter he could lick off of a kitchen beater (holding it like an ice cream cone), peanut butter, and more. Mostly anything he could fish out of his Daddy’s mouth or steal from our plates. If he especially liked a food, his pupils would dilate wildly while he said, “Mmmmm do you like it??” Or sometimes, “Mmmm what is it?” The main food he never liked was carrots. If offered any size or shape of carrot he would immediately throw it to the ground, like it offended him a little.

Pacino moved here with us from the city and quickly acclimated to farm life. He learned the sound of the horses’ whinnies and would call to them by name, especially “Chaaaaa-ntaaaa!” and when we had Daphne’s foals, “Wah-PI!! Wah-PI!!” Once Klaus was here, Pacino was happy to encourage his little brother’s fetching efforts. He cheered generously and screamed “GET IT!” Klaus loved it, and we did too. He was also infinitely gentle with kittens and baby chicks. It was quite a thing to behold.

You will never see a gentler, more devoted surrogate mother who is a boy.

Once Pacino began to spend warm days outside with the chickens and ducks, his lifelong and very natural habit of scattering birdseed came in handy for social bonding. The hens quickly learned that standing beneath Pacino’s perch meant a generous scattering of more exotic fare than they normally received, and we thought Pacino enjoyed throwing stuff at them. I used to hate for him to do this in the house, because it meant constant sweeping of the wood floors. Jessica and Handsome once heard me reprimanding him, “Pacino this is not your mess castle!” Well, outside in the South Coop, it definitely was his Mess Castle, and he was King.

I have, in fact, complained a lot over the years about the mess and the noise Pacino generated, but today I would very much love to hear him scream obnoxiously again and say Hi momma and to clean up the floor and smell his powdery dander. I am ashamed for having ever complained, for having every assumed that he would always have him. We trusted his life expectancy too much. He was part of us, and losing him at all hurts more than we want it to. Losing him so suddenly, with no explanation, is leaving us in shock. Honestly, we expected to grow old with him. We expected to find a place for him to retire when we die.

He loved us, we felt it. He loved many of you, we saw it. We know that he was loved by so many of you, too. Thank you for that. Thank you to our friends and family who have sent the most wonderful messages, making it clear that Pacino was known as more than an unusual pet; he was a family member with an amazing, full spectrum personality. He is already deeply and sorely missed, and we shudder to think forward to all the things we will be doing here at the farm without him.

“Birds are as fragile as they are beautiful.”
~Brandy Wreath
XOXOXOXO

8 specific ways to name your gratitude

Happy Thanksgiving Week!! However the holiday looks in your world this year, whatever plans you are able to make and keep, may joyful gratitude be the heart and soul of it all. If this comes trudgingly at times due to, well, everything, here are some of my favorite thought exercises that you might find useful.

#1 Senses Inventory: Take a moment to actively notice the world as your five physical senses perceive it, then add your thoughts and emotions in that moment. What do I see, hear, touch, smell, taste, think, and feel? Cataloging these seven specific access points to your human experience can feel so wonderful; it curbs that tendency to grow numb. I love this as a grounding exercise, and it often launches me straight into overwhelming gratitude.

#2 Prayers Already Answered: Take note of prayers already answered throughout your life or your loved ones’, both recently and over time. Name them until you feel the physical relief of “what might have been” or of the heavy burdens you no longer carry. Re-experience the joy of good news, and reflect on the love poured out into your life. Your life is soaked in miracles. Sometimes I do this slowly at first, until the remembrance comes on like a tidal wave. It can be overwhelming, and I giggle-cry with thanks.

#3 Thankful that Things Aren’t Worse: This is a powerful train of thought, but in a dark moment it can slip into sarcasm, which dulls gratitude, so I try to maintain that boundary, ha! No matter how difficult the days are, it can always be much, much worse. This kind of gratitude helps me put my problems in perspective.

#4 Give Thanks in Advance: As simple as it sounds, but a small exercise in fantasy, this is a powerful act of trust. I love to tell God thank you ahead of the concrete answers. It helps me see the future in its best possible expression. It helps me land on words to describe what I really want. And it helps me affirm my trust in His goodness, instead of giving voice to my fears.

#5 Gratitude for the Strong Pillars: If you have a job, a warm home, clothes and shoes, food and clean water, and a few people near you, your life is strong and good. It is so easy to forget that these are not automatically provided to everyone, and the veil between this life and another is shockingly thin. Hwo wonderful to be in such a strong, safe place.

#6 Name Actual People! Oh this is so fun and easy, and it is a luscious way to feel temporarily connected! Just let your mind wander and literally say the names of people in your life. Sometimes my mind will fish out the name of someone who surprises me, maybe they are a part of a difficult relationship, but you know what? I can be thankful for those too, as those are often where we learn valuable lessons. But mostly I enjoy the bright cloud of faces around me, people who make my world stronger, more beautiful, infinitely more magical.

#7 Gratitude Over News Headlines: Another exercise in trust, this is about the only way I can constructively absorb the news some days. Just read or watch and try to filter it all through a lens of thankfulness. Sometimes the best I can do is tell God I know you know all about this, thank you for watching over us in all things I don’t understand, and that can be enough. But then, also, a lens of thankfulness can help me see good news more often. It sort of tunes the mind into noticing goodness more easily.

#8 Thankful for Challenges and Difficulties: This particular thankfulness robs hardship of some of its sting. It’s the alchemy, the absolute conversion of what was meant for our harm. I love to reframe hard times as opportunities to grow and improve.

Do any of these seem useful to you? Do you have any other specific thought methods to share, to amp up our gratitude?

Happy Thanksgiving week!! However you are celebrating this year, I wish you deep peace and outrageous joy. Take it easy and laugh a lot. Pour yourelf out, fully. We are all going to make some unique memories this week, so let’s make them loving in every way.

Thank you so much for checking in.

“The quality of your life depends upon
the quality of your thoughts.”
~Marcus Aurelius
XOXOXOXO

getting centered before Thanksgiving

In our corner of the universe, everyone is a bit wound up about Thanksgiving. In good, happy ways, mostly, but also in covid ways. We have the exact same dilemma you have, which is how to gather safely and responsibly while preserving our mental health and holiday traditions as much as possible. We are wound up over how to stay connected when we are entering a season of necessary separation. You know, all of it. We are all in this.

It’s hard to make hard choices, and I know we are far from alone in this. It’s all valid, not imaginary, and occasionally makes me cry.

Somehow I woke up extra early Saturday morning and felt a new uprising of optimism and hope about it all. I woke up remembering the essence of giving thanks and of keeping traditions. Our outward expressions are not the whole story, after all. The root of it all is untouchable, no matter what else is happening. The root of it all is Love, and Love always resurfaces eventually. Love always wins, and it always makes good choices.

Today’s weather is a great illustration of this. We have cold, grey skies and thick clouds over the farm. It’s a dim atmosphere, not awful, but also not glorious. Until the sun busts through. All throughout the day this intense metallic light keeps making these surprise appearances, gilding and glittering the oak leaves and evergreens, illuminating the patchy grass and purple mums. It just enlivens everything, and without warning the gloom is forgotten. A few times today it was so surprising that I gasped and panicked over having wasted a pretty day indoors.

We are in charge of this stuff, friends. We literally rule over our perceptions and focus.

We can focus on the statistics and on what others are doing and become overwhelmed and sad (or angry); or we can acknowledge reality then focus on what health we are enjoying today, affirm good choices, and make the absolute most of what is available to us. We can do everything in our power to live out Love, even if it all looks very different than we are used to.

We get hooked on the habits and details, sometimes, and forget that our habits and details are born of deeper, more meaningful values and truths. Repeating traditions is just a way of conjuring up good feelings, and that can be done in myriad ways. We are infinitely creative creatures, capable of making magic. Holiday magic. Even in pandemic.

For me, the trick will be allowing this holiday season to be exactly what it is, really digging in and enjoying it all, without comparing it to huge, glorious holidays past or even more liberated holidays in the future. Definitely let’s agree to not compare our Thanksgiving to anyone else’s. This year more than ever, that’s just a fruitless endeavor. We are all making complex choices with fluctuating resources and energy levels. So, no comparing. xoxo

I intend to celebrate the generations of Love and effort invested in us so far, everything beautiful in each of our families that has led up to this year. I will make silent promises to reinvest that Love and effort into others, every chance we get, both now and going forward.

Let’s also remember that some of the best traditions are sparked from weird, necessary moments of impulse and invention. Let’s all be open to what new beauty might come this Great Pause.

Okay. Happy Thanksgiving Week, friends. Whatever you are planning, may it be all you need and more. May lots and lots of golden-silver autumn sunlight hammer apart your gloom. May the essence of every family tradition be findable, the effort behind every good thing repeatable in new ways. And most of all, may you and your family stay safe and healthy.

Please Wear a Mask
XOXOXOXO