Lazy W Marie

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

advent 2021, LOVE

Two weeks until Christmas you guys!

The older I get, the more affection I have for the essence of every holiday. The more I sense that every good tradition is good because it is soaked in Love.

I actively embrace all the frilly details and reject frustrations and complaints about “modern trappings” or “excessive human structures,” because I know why we like them so much: They’re expressions of Love! So I am free to dive in. Give me all the lushness of the season, so long as it is all centered in Love.

This just hit me recently. It hit me how everything that really matters is rooted in and bound by Love, and love encompasses all kinds of celebratory living, every bit as much as lowly service and humility. Sin doesn’t always look a certain way; it’s just anything that steps away from Love. Once in a while I think about this, and the simplicity and grandeur of it all brings me to tears. There is a school of thought that takes it a step further and says that anything we perceive that is not love is actually an illusion. And that “Well being is the only stream that flows,” so anything other than well being is not its own dark force but just what we feel when we interrupt the flow of love. Book mark that thought and get back with me!

How wonderful that we are free to sink in and really enjoy everything the Christmas season has to offer, without having to rail against any of it! Just let Love flow freely through you, between you and your friends and family and strangers. Let Love rule the day and infuse every effort with meaning. Make sure Love is in your thoughts, too. Cozy and safe, from the inside out. As Kellie said recently, “Let Love be your default.”

In her reality-shifting book A Return to Love, Marianne Williamson says, “By affirming that love is our priority in a situation, we actualize the power of God.” And isn’t that precisely what Christmas is, the arrival and actualization of God’s power on earth?

How refreshing and exciting that a whole week of Advent is dedicated to Love. Gifts can be chosen with love, and then that process becomes REALLY FUN instead of arduous. We can decorate our homes with love in our hearts, rather than mechanical habit, honoring traditions and surrounding each other with the colors and fragrances and details that boost our spirits. This sets me free for silliness and a crazy-quilt mix of styles and memories around the farm. Love on every side, in every room, at each animal habitat. When baking time rolls around, and when we plan our family feasts and parties, let’s do that with love too. Certainly, all cooking is at its best when done lovingly. You can taste the difference. Sandy Coughlin always said of opening your home, “Bless, not impress.”

Try filling your December calendar with only loving events and gatherings, and say no to invitations that feel off. If you are facing a difficult relationship or unavoidable confrontation, try to lay the groundwork ahead of time by thinking as many loving thoughts toward that person as you can (I promise you can, and I promise this helps). Use the three-to-one ratio if you need to. Definitely, when you feel the anxiety rising, rehearse loving sentences rather than arguments. Practice seeing the best in everyone, even if you never verbalize those thoughts. It will shift your energy, and this allows you to be a conduit for miracles.

I am huge fan of romance at Christmastime, too! Let it simmer, let it flame, let it warm everything up a few degrees. Romantic love is a gift as much as any other relationship. I feel so lucky that my husband and I get lots of time alone and that he is as much a fan of date nights and quiet nights at home as I am. But we also love double date with friends, eating out and looking at lights in the city, all kinds of fun stuff! I hope young couples (looking at you Jess and Alex) make an effort to spark happy, private memories that no one else knows about and build whatever little Christmas traditions are meaningful to them. Those moments will bind the years together and infuse a special, personal flavor of love into future holiday seasons.

If we believe that God is Love and that He took human form at Christmastime, then Jesus’ birth is nothing but Love incarnate. It’s so simple. We have been taught this all our lives, but it just clicked for me recently, the Advent, the coming, the arrival of Love. It means we literally can enjoy Christmas every single day of our lives. We are invited to do this.

One of the greatest thrills of my adult life has been learning about other religions and how many parallels we share with our friends who are not Christian. Love rules their cultures, too. We may have a very different vernacular, but light bursts open the dark of every culture’s deepest winter, and love is the miracle we all enjoy.

Here’s a passage from the incomparably beautiful novel This Tender Land by William Kent Krueger:

“We breathe love in and we breathe love out. It’s the essence of our existence, the very air of our souls.”

However you spend the next couple of weeks, whatever preparations you choose to make for Christmas weekend, I hope you can remain centered on Love and inspired by its sweetness and strength. I hope you and your people can welcome the arrival of Love in every relationship and every circumstance. I hope that you can feel Love being born over and over again, ever single day. Choose it. Choose Him.

“So to live as if you are unloved
is a limitation.
Living unloved is like
clipping a bird’s wings
and removing its ability to fly.”
~William Young
XOXOXO

another post about hope for advent 2021

Hey friends, hello and thanks for reading along here. Thanks, also, for so many comments and private messages after my most recent post about hope. Apparently lots of us are grappling with hard feelings right now, and it is wonderful to freely exchange the best reminders. Thank you!

P.S., let’s not waste time and energy feeling bad for feeling bad sometimes; we all are in very good company. You have every bit of the wisdom and strength you need for this exact moment in time.

Okay.

Today I have a more lighthearted story about hope.

A few years ago our precious friend Maddie invited us to one of her high school drama musicals, Shrek. (Locals, if you ever have a chance to see a theater production at Choctaw High School, buy your tickets and put on your party dress. The production quality is mind blowing.)

Sweet Maddie, celebrating with ice cream
on our final day of garden class a few years ago xoxo

In the story, as you may know from the animated film, Princess Fiona is held captive in a castle tower. Every day she pines for her romantic, royal rescue (a story worth exploring in its own right). She sings about it. She gazes artistically through the tower window and imagines how it will happen. She daydreams of her unknown Prince.

Every day of her captivity, Fiona lives in constant, positive expectation of the One True Thing for which her heart longs. She sings, “I know it’s today, I know it’s TODAY!” In the song she laments other princesses’ hard problems and their grim fates, and she continues to count her own days waiting (20, 21, 22, 23… What day is it?) yet constantly asserts. “I know it’s today!”

It occurs to me at this point that many of us are counting years, not days. If this is your situation, please know that I know how much that hurts. My heart goes out to you.

Back to Shrek.

Day after day, Fiona’s answer eludes her. She continues in hope, but night falls and no deliverance. Over and over again, she goes to bed still captive, still hoping. The audience is drawn into her suspenseful waiting.

Until one day.

One day it does happen. All along her rescuers had been on their own long journey, searching for her. She is found and freed and can finally celebrate. Do you know what she sings?

With even bigger exuberance than before, Fiona the Hopeful belts out, “I knew it would happen TODAY!!” The crowd screams as if Russell Westbrook, coached personally by Bob Stoops, just won the Showcase Showdown!! Energy ripples through the building. Strangers hug and high five and kiss each other right on the mouth. An old man stands up from a wheelchair and does a cartwheel. Giant, sequined confetti falls in a slow-motion whirlwind. A horse whinnies triumphantly.

Not exactly, BUT… The crowd definitely cheers, and I do vividly remember sitting there in the dark auditorium with Handsome and our friends, weeping and shaking a little bit, feeling overwhelming joy for this fictional character on stage, ha! Which just means I was feeling what it might feel like for my own prayers to be answered, again.

Because my prayers have absolutely been answered so many times in life, it’s unreal. The deliverance from fear and danger, from threat and grief and so many very real problems and crises… When I stop to reflect on it all, I get tearful giggles. How could I ever ask for more? And yet, life marches on and problems and heartaches are just part of it.

I’ll happily take it all, and lots and lots of it, thank you very much. The beautiful, the mundane, the terrifying, the delicious. I’ll take all the shadows, because I want all the blinding light too.

And when the prayers are hefty and the miracles we need are immense, like they are right now, again, I want to be like Fiona. I want to live in constant, positive anticipation of our deepest hopes being fulfilled TODAY.

One day it will be today. Our disciplined, hopeful singing will turn in an instant to shouting and celebration, all over again. The pain of waiting will be forgotten, all over again, out of the blue.

Out of the blue has been exactly how so many miracles have been delivered over the years.

Jocelyn, in her bliss, that first summer she lived in Colorado.
We rode horses and laughed so hard that day, and my sunglasses bounced off on the trail. xoxo
Jess, planting flowers at her first apartment,
the day she told me about this boy she had just met, named Alex. xoxo

Keep praying, friends, and I will too. Keep imagining and expecting the best of everything. Continue in hope. Every scripture invites us to enjoy this habit. Every good bit of spiritual literature will press you into some theme of inner buoyancy, which is what hope feels like to me.

“Despair is the development of pride so great
that it chooses one’s certitude rather than admit
God is more creative than we are.”
My sister Angela shared this beautiful quote with me
XOXOXOXO

do I have resting worried face?

A few days ago while grocery shopping, I accidentally caught my own reflection in a narrow mirrored pillar, but I didn’t realize it was my own reflection. I definitely thought, for a split second, it was a stranger, a very worried, deeply sad, visibly distressed stranger. Her eyebrows were knotted upward, mouth pressed thin and downturned, overall countenance gray and dull. I smiled at her to cheer her up just as I was realizing my mistake.

As I retreated from the mirror, it sunk in that I had been walking around like that in public. Just broadcasting to strangers an outward expression of some private pain. It was unintentional, and I felt really ashamed. When I shared all of this with my husband later he said, “Yeah babe, now you know why I am always asking you if you are ok.” Yikes. Do I always look so sad?

Since this weird moment, I have been trying to be more conscious of how my inner storms are leaking out. I am making an effort to interact with the world a bit more lightly. To be clear, I don’t mean to suggest that we fake happiness or deny anything real or worth examining, but I have learned the value of smiling anyway. I have learned to just to acknowledge and accept my sadness then choose as often as possible to smile anyway.

To choose joy despite loss and grief and worry.

To accept humor and fun surprises with open arms, because they can be powerful tonics. Everything that counterweights hardship is a gift.

To vote for hope and optimism in the face of some scary unknowns. Count the victories, dwell on them!

I have learned to actively express gratitude for so many blessings, so much emotional comfort and practical safety and stability in the world. What extravagance. We are so loved.

I will actively choose to invest in healthy relationships, happy memories, and hope for our family’s future. Give thanks for people still living, for whom our prayers matter greatly, joy for friendships that uplift us and traditions that keep us grounded. These are glittering gifts.

Because winter is coming, I am consciously accepting the many luscious gifts of a long, slow, mild autumn, a healthy and colorful farm dotted with well fed, affectionate, hilarious animals. A house that keeps us comfortable and stimulated. I remind myself to go walk around the farm after I have finished my work, thankful for the weather and all the beauty around us. Every single beautiful day is a gift.

Instead of focusing on the precious time we lost with Jocelyn and Jessica, instead of focusing on the abuse they endured all those years, I am focusing on their lives now, and on Alex and the pups, who we love dearly. We are focusing on these kids’ unbelievable capacity to heal and rebuild, on their tenacity and wisdom, their tender love and unnatural beauty. Every text, every visit, every hug, is a gift.

We truly have so much to celebrate. This doesn’t mean we are forgetting about yet unanswered prayers; it only means we are saying thank you for so many prayers that have already been answered, after years of waiting and hoping and striving.

How could we ever give up on any miracle we crave? So much has fallen straight out of the sky for us. I want to more often express that hope and joy physically. My face should more often reflect my deep hope and abiding joy, instead of my worry.

Today I was in a different grocery store and was actively framing my thoughts and making an effort to smile at and chat with everyone. My heart was freshly refilled with the same strong worries, the same toxins, but I just acknowledged them and persisted in drumming up the better schools of thought. Though I never accidentally caught my own reflection, I think my vibration was better than a few days ago. Everyone smiled back at me, and lots of people stopped to chat. It was wonderful and sweet. A young man approached me and asked my age, and how was I today, and a generous offering of just so pretty, and do I need anything at all? It was sweet and kind and unnecessary, and it helped me feel like I was back in society a little bit. Like maybe I wasn’t scaring people away with my facial expression.

Handsome and I talked things through over dinner, and my heart settled onto some good, warm truths. Yes, we are surrounded by worries. We are traumatized and wounded, and we are occasionally weary. We are waiting for some precious answers in the world, as you are too. It is wise and useful to share our concerns but not dwell on them. Much better to dwell on the amazing goodness and unseen beauty headed our way.

So, if I have crossed your path recently and resonated sadness, I am very sorry for that. I am sorry for ever spreading darkness over light. Maybe admitting this will at least let people know that my constant encouragement to choose joy do come from a place of knowing it is sometimes a very difficult choice. I know it is not always easy to cling to, but it is always worth it. Keep choosing joy.

Signed,
Mrs. Resting Worried Face

sweet easy saturday & some reading

I woke up around 4:40 this morning, feeling so bright and wide awake that I was surprised by the bruised purple dark at the windows. Klaus and I walked outside for a few minutes then started the coffee. Today is a planned rest day, my hair was already clean and my body already scrubbed since yesterday evening, and Handsome and I had a few easy outings in mind. I adore days like this, when we have very certainly earned some R&R, I am unlikely to get too dirty or sweaty, and I can look ahead to several consecutive hours of freedom. Just meandering through the open waters of a rare, unscheduled Saturday.

Some details…

I have a solid reputation for being afraid of frogs. It’s not that I am afraid of them existing, in fact I am very happy that our farm enjoys so many of them; it’s just that I am afraid of them jumping into my mouth or ears, specifically. Look at this tiny guy, less than half an inch long! I found him in the herb garden:

so small!

What a day for easy socializing. This morning we got better acquainted with a neighbor and his German Shepherd (!!!), which was a wonderful surprise. Then we visited the State Fairgrounds for a junk and crafts show, stopped at my parents to chat a while and tour Mom’s incredible garden, then shopped at Savory Spice in OKC . Finally, we ran one errand at Lowe’s and ate lunch on the way home and saw another neighbor when we got here. All day long, at every turn, we visited with so many happy, friendly, talkative people. It hit me that we were like dry sponges just soaking up all those good vibes, all those funny stories and unmasked smiles. I am far from weary of the novelty of this fresh, wide open season.

At Savory Spice, a young woman approached me and asked if I remember her. It was a friend of Jocelyn’s from grade school! Of course I remembered her! What a joyful shock to see here standing there, a full grown woman, chatting about life and pandemic and career paths like anyone would. Talking with her flooded me with good memories and strong hope. Side note, I was proud of the progress I have made in my heart, that not even for one moment was I tempted to ask, “Have you heard from her, have you seen her?” There was a long season when I was scared and desperate for updates. We are way past that now, wading deep in assurances, choosing trust over and over again.

Here is a surprise purchase Handsome made while she and I chatted. I am measurably excited to find excuses to use it:

so delish

We have reached that time in the growing season when vegetables, flowers, and herbs insist on being carried back to the house, even if I am only wearing pajamas and not carrying a basket. I may need to sew myself a harvest apron:

snow peas!

Ann Voskamp shared a lyrical post that is loaded with great sentences. Here is one I especially loved: “It takes courage to listen with our whole heart to the tick of God’s timing, rather than march to the loud beat of our fears.” I found it restful and encouraging, just watch out for the butterfly story. Ouch.

Edie also wrote a great piece recently about how we speak, not just what we say but the tone we use, the energy we share with people. I loved so much of this. How true that life or death is in the power of our words. I occasionally feel resentful of the power my subtle mood changes can have, resentful of the responsibility that carries, but most of the time I am amazed by this magic. Our emotions are powerful energy, and I love that. Thank you for sharing every bit of this, Edie!

Jessica has started reading The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake, which I will soon read again, to discuss with her. Book club friends will definitely remember this unusual novel. This is our current arrangement, sharing favorite titles with each other. I imagine we will soon venture into uncharted written territory together. I will say again, that reading books with your adult kids is just as wonderful as reading books to them when they were little.

Myself, I am reading The Witch Elm by Tana French. My gosh. Dense and spontaneous writing with arrow straight storytelling, loaded with sensual mystery. Loving it.

Are you following along with Dee’s podcast? She and Carol offer wonderful advice and inspiration every single week. Highly recommend.

Signing off, friends. We have more meandering to do with what remains of this fine Saturday. Choose joy!

“He who is driven by fears
delays the comfort of God.”
Ann Voskamp
XOXOXOXO

tuesday as winter throws its final tantrum

As I sit down for a few minutes to write this, we are bracing for one final cold snap, a late one by some measures but also weather that is completely on par with… (gestures widely to the entire past year). The overnight low in much of Oklahoma will likely flirt with 32 degrees for an hour or so, which is enough to trigger damaging frost. So I am happy to have not yet planted any tender tropicals. Today I spent a few hours moving soft, sweet smelling compost in gentle heaps and pillows to all the roses and brassica vegetables, plus the few cannas that have broken ground already. Fingers crossed for all my hydrangeas and viburnum; they are way to big to cover without letting the cloth touch the foliage. Nothing has bloomed yet, only leafed out, so that seems good.

Both yesterday and today while flipping and moving compost, I spied a baby snake. It is a silvery grey thing, narrow and shiny, fast as lightning. Had I not seen its tapered tail I might have guessed it to be an overfed earthworm. This is the time of year for both fat earthworms and skinny snakes. And they are both likely to be found in the compost.

The compost heap also produced a trio of humble, cheerful little squash plants, a wonderful surprise. I lifted them out of the fertile ground, along with some of that magical black stuff, and potted them up for transplanting soon into the proper garden. They will have a head start on all the other squash plants and maybe thereby escape the scourge whose name we dare not speak.

These are probably spaghetti squashes, based on the giant petrified skin I found nearby.

The strawberries I have been growing just for fun in small pots are, to my surprise, actually growing. And ripening! Look at this sweet pink baby.

About 2 dozen of these are growing in pots. Should I leave them, or put the in a garden bed?

Klaus kept me company all day while I moved compost and pulled wild greens for the chickens. We now have four big raised beds clean and fed in advance of planting this weekend. He played hard with Meh and Little Lady Marigold, then he came inside with me, visibly exhausted. He napped hard for about twenty minutes while I ate lunch and caught up on messages. Then we went upstairs to the Apartment to do the ironing. As I got started, he perched himself dramatically on the guest bed there and gave me the most pitiful face. Clearly, he had rested plenty and wanted to be back outside with his brother Meh. Or, and this is a legitimate possibility, he wanted Meh to come inside with us and play babies in the Apartment.

Can you see Meh far in the distance?

We are having soup tonight at the Lazy W, a cozy dinner to thaw our bodies, round out a hard working day, and embrace what will hopefully be the end of very cold weather for a very long time. I feel my heart thawing in so many ways, too. I feel the loosening of this vice grip of worry for our kids, and I feel the swell of peace and the energy of joyful work. All of it flowing.

“Well being is the only stream that flows.”
~Abraham Hicks
XOXOXO