Lazy W Marie

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

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I Could Have Told Them

A few days ago, funny timing really, I read an article about the exchange of cells between mother and child. Somehow scientists have demonstrated that  little bits of the child stay with the mother, deep in her brain, long after birth. Actual cells. Microscopic but very real physical remnants of her offspring are hidden away in her body, protected and preserved forever in the deep and mysterious folds of her brain. The amniotic connection may end shortly after birth, but the real connection lasts forever.

I could have told them that. I could have told them, albeit without the autopsy, that she never lives a day of her life without thinking of  her children and wishing desperately for them to know her thoughts. Feeling them like slender ghosts in her arms. Hearing their clear, sweet voices or smelling their sunshiny hair, counting their pearly teeth. That no matter how she manages to fill her expansive days (out of desperation, never preference), nothing compares to time with them and no worldly peace measures up to knowing they are safe and happy.

fourteen years and a lifetime ago
fourteen years and a lifetime ago

I am so glad science now knows that the mother and child are never really separated. But I could have told them.

XOXOXOXO

 

Love Will Make a Way

I’d like to clear something up, and I will try harder than ever at brevity.

I have been writing for a few years now about choosing light, focusing on the good, and maximizing the best things, etcetera, etcetera. The idea has sometimes fluttered across my mind that this mantra gives me the appearance of being an ostrich, of burying my head in the happy sands and ignoring problems. Then I decide that really I care less and less about appearances these days. So I go about the business of choosing light, simmering in Love, and enjoying the life that has been given to me. And by the way… This life, with all its heart breaks and bloody, vicious, senseless battles, with all its difficulty and disappointment, is a wildly beautiful one for which I am deeply grateful. I know that my life is charmed beyond what I deserve, and I only wish more people I love could share in it. I wish they would choose to share in it.

Last night I was confronted with the fact that perhaps appearances do matter more than I have allowed. I have been living in a way that conceals my private struggles and pain so much that people might believe I have none. They also might believe I don’t care about their suffering, although that is a vast ocean apart from the truth.

This is not meant as a band-aid for some of my private, broken relationships. And they are so broken. But I do want to make clear with anyone who reads this blog that my ongoing efforts to choose to look on the bright side, as contrived as that sounds, started for my own survival. Focusing on Love is not an act of convenience; neither is it always an easy one. (Although once you settle your nerves into the decision, it is soothing beyond words.) Rather, it has become the way I can survive. Clinging to the force of Love is, quite literally, what has kept me from shriveling up in so many ways and just surrendering to the blackness.

But there’s more. I started seeing the effects of this way of life, and slowly everything that was black and ashy took on a new moistness, a trembling vibrancy. Everything edged toward Technicolor again, and miracles became the norm instead of the day-dream. I’m not imagining this. And now pain and blackness can only distract me for a few minutes at a time. I see into the future in ways that might make you think I am perfectly loopy. (You might be right, but not for this reason.) Love is worthy of all of my trust, all of my eyes-closed, heart-wide-open faith and confidence. The hardest questions really do have answers on their way.

Thank you Jess.
Thank you Jess.

So what will change? I will not ever again be a person who sits and dwells in negativity and steeps herself in anger, bitterness, and malice. There is nothing nourishing about that for me or my loved ones. But I will try to be more available to people who are hurting. I am praying for the opportunities to explain some things better. Mend these broken places. And I would appreciate your prayers so much.

Don’t give up on Love. You will suffer; we all do. And it will be overwhelming and crippling at times. But there is always, always an answer that is better than what you all by yourself can muster. Like these rose petals that folded into the shape of a heart without any guidance or suggestion from me, Love will make a way.

XOXOXOXO

fractals, Love, & wild geraniums

In my vegetable garden there are four raised beds built from wood that was once the kids’ old playhouse, one chaotic heap of compost, a corner full of empty bee hive supplies, and space allotted for a Three Sisters patch (corn, beans, and squash based on fish heads). There is also a cool reclaimed-wood arbor dressed in faded flag bunting, some gently sagging barbed wire where asparagus might still be growing, a thornless blackberry bush, and this old metal chair spray painted black.

 

wildcraft garden chair
The tallest greens you see here are wild geraniums. The llamas love them! I’m trying to learn about foraging in Oklahoma, so for a while at least these “weeds” are treasures.

 

I have allowed the weeds here to grow pretty wild lately, just enjoying the lushness and sexiness of a new season taking over the landscape. The abandon of life, crawling and undulating all over the place… Filling every void… Scenting the air with chlorophyll… Irresistible.

To the visitor’s eye, surely my vegetable garden looks crazy. Unkempt, perhaps even neglected. But food is definitely growing there: In the raised beds I have spinach, cabbages, carrots, radishes, potatoes, kale, snow peas, and mesculun. And you know what else is growing? Creativity and freedom. This messy rectangle is an ideal spot for reflection and analysis. Plain old day dreaming. It’s a self-contained fractal and one of my most favorite places on earth.

An unbelievable three and a half years ago, our book club read and discussed William P. Young’s The Shack. Since then I have healed from certain things so much and have gained such a healthier perspective on life. I might even read the book again to see how it hits me now.

 

My purposes are not for my comfort, or yours.
My purposes are always and only an expression of love.
I purpose to work life out of death,
to bring freedom out of brokenness
and turn darkness into light.
What you see as chaos, I see as a fractal.

 

Today I am at the farm all day. No subbing, nowhere to go, lots of wonderful, worthwhile stuff to do. And I couldn’t be happier. My days are so different from each other lately, and woven together they present a gorgeous pattern of life well lived. So much Love every where I turn, it’s pretty incredible. I am deeply grateful.

Sitting here at our dining room table, the winds are picking up, blowing the curtains hard through open windows and blasting me with the brief, exotic perfume of irises and lilies. My coffee is getting stale now, telling me it’s time to go outside. I feel certain yearnings but have trouble wishing anything at all were different, even the heartaches we still have. Life is too beautiful and wonderfully unpredictable just as it is. I so firmly trust, now, finally, that Love has purposed everything.

XOXOXOXO

Red Bud Season

There’s a paved road near our farm where the red bud trees stand tall on both sides, intermingling with live oaks, maples, sand plums, and cedars. They are all so old and strong that they interlace their branches over the road almost enough to form a true canopy. The red buds are blooming right now, that shade of purplish pink that is all at once both hot and cool. If you are lucky enough to drive this road early in the morning, then you get to see the eastern sunlight slicing through those flowering branches in great, shimmering planes of color. Everything is washed pastel for a while, even the asphalt, and it is all so beautiful you can almost forget about thickening traffic patterns and urban sprawl. This beauty is intense, and it is equally fleeting. Soon the tissue explosions will give way to green leaves, a new season of beauty in its own right.

 

Oklahoma state tree, the red bud.
Oklahoma state tree, the red bud.

 

No matter how many plans I make, they seem to change; and the new plans tend to be even better than what I had in mind. No matter how much I celebrate the details and beauty of life, I am constantly surprised by how good life can be. Nearly every day something has been happening here to prove to me that not only are things “for the best;” but they are amazing. Brief seasons of beauty surprise us, nourish us, then bow out gracefully for the next act.

Early yesterday morning, after driving through the pastel tunnel near our farm,  I had the chance to see my youngest daughter twirl around and squeal tenderly, celebrating her plans for prom this weekend. I got to see the glow in her young cheeks and the sparkle in her pretty brown eyes, and I got to feel the simplicity and warmth of her hugs. She is as much a young woman now as she has ever been my little girl, and it is the most amazing feeling to see this transformation. I am so thankful for it.

Later in the day I went downtown with Handsome and his sweet Dad to visit the Oklahoma City Memorial Museum. I had never been in all these years, and visiting with these men who are so special to me was an unforgettable experience. I had been scraping hard lately to maintain my attitude for the upcoming marathon, and yesterday changed everything. After internalizing what the first responders endured, I now want to run this race more than ever. If they can to do that work for nineteen days straight, then I can certainly run for four hours to honor them.

After that I bought our groceries for the week and was thankful all over again that we are able to eat so well. I felt deeply grateful for our health, too. The farm was happy and silly when Handsome and I both got home in the afternoon, and we enjoyed the baby chicks for a long time. I cooked dinner and shrugged off little projects I thought were so important, instead spending the evening with my husband, my best friend. I had horrible nightmares overnight, but he woke me up and held me close.

I don’t know what I’m trying to say here except that Love drenched every minute of yesterday, just as it does every day if we will only notice. The red buds are blooming and life is good.

 

XOXOXOXO

 

 

 

 

Pulling Magic

Happy Weekend!! We have been so busy this past week, as usual I suppose, and are once again landed safely and happily at a little break. This weekend the sun is shining aggressively in Oklahoma, warming up the well soaked soil and brightening all of our moods. This fine Saturday morning Handsome has volunteered to drive to the feed store and also do the chores so I can strike out for a long run, then together we have some fun Saturday outings planned. It’s already a good day.

Right now for book club I am reading something that just inspires deep conversation about every other page. I can’t wait to review the book for you, but in the mean time, a quote and a question…

 

pulling magic out of thin air... Quote from White Oleander by Janet Fitch
Pulling beauty out of thin air… Quote from White Oleander by Janet Fitch. What is your theater?

 

I am so enamored by this idea, of wanting magic and pulling beauty out of thin air. And of understanding the theater each of us chooses. And to me this is most satisfying kind of beauty, not what can be purchased or acquired… but rather… drawn out. Imagined and manifested. Beauty we interpret and make real by wanting and then enjoying it, that’s the best kind. This passage from White Oleander is actually talking about sex and how men and women relate to each other, but the premise still applies.

Here is some of the beauty we have been pulling out of thin air here lately… Our theaters are colorful and loving.

 

chalk doodles

Spontaneous pastels and pencil art with my friend Marci and her little beauty Juliana. I keep the ones they made with my name nearby and love these friends earnestly from a distance every time I glance at their art.

cookies granola

A really delicious cookie recipe that stuck to the pan and crumbled when I scraped them off. So it all became a really delicious granola recipe. Also, so many kale recipes lately…

painted mailbox art

We bought a new heavy rubber mailbox and Handsome surprised me by drenching it in color! Magic out of thin air for sure. Even with me squealing and laughing and kissing his face, he has no idea how happy this made me.

jax big boys

Jaxson, our great-nephew, asked to give the big boys some extra food the other evening. He worked so hard with his Kindergarten muscles and my full sized hay rake collecting two full green bucketfuls. He dumped it, laughed when the buff tried to steal the bucket again, then sat and watched them, talking to me forever about dental care.

SPROUTS

My herb garden is slowly greening up with sprouts and seedlings. Last year’s bail, oregano, and morning glories seem to have reseeded themselves. Maybe even more than that. Snow peas are up. Bulbs are up. Transplanted shrubs are sturdier than ever. This is my chosen theater, my personal space form which to pull magic from thin air, And I love it. It feeds me in every way.

milani red shoes chickie

Milanni, our great-niece, reluctantly touching a baby chick. I have no words for her preciousness.

Every single days offers us hundreds, maybe thousands, of opportunities to pull magic from thin air. It’s all about what are hearts and minds are set to receive, what we look for and are willing to create in our lives.

I gotta run now, literally. But I already feel more magic thrumming its way to our home and to yours. Expect amazing things. Look for the bright moments. Be ready for miracles big and small, because life is teeming with them.

 

Beauty awakens the soul to act.

~Dante Alighieri

XOXOXOXO

 

 

To me, the best