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

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

“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

feeling challenged, nourished, hopeful (media consumption this week)

Hello, friends, happy Sunday! I am soon off for a solo long run in what might be the last warm morning for a while. Then Handsome and I have a fun plan for the cooler weather headed our way this afternoon. Battery recharging is our favorite hobby. What does life look like for you this weekend?

Below are some of the best bits of media I have consumed this week. I am feeling nourished, challenged, and truly hopeful. Marigolds, zinnias, and baby pumpkin vines help.

some flourishing “jack be little” vines in the spent tomato beds

Thursday evening, I finally finished reading To Shake the Sleeping Self by Jedediah Jenkins and wholeheartedly give it five out of five stars. Ten out of ten. All the stars! If either good storytelling or deep, spiritual inspiration are at all your thing, give it a whirl. Here is the review I shared on Goodreads:

I finally read this book after several passionate recommendations from a variety of people I respect. Loved it completely. It’s different than what I expected, and better. It’s a modern Odyssey, really, a young man’s physical adventure and waywardness made deep and meaningful by his journey inward and reconciliation with home and family, spirituality, himself. He connected to nature and to the world at large, and to God, the Universe. I was drawn in by his physical endurance journey, appalled by his travel companion, and fully romanced by the long trail of travel descriptions, of places I am unlikely to ever visit myself. Absolutely satisfying read, from the first page to the last. I am sorry it took me so long to read, but happy to have it in my bones now.

You had me at, “narrated by Woody Harrelson,” but that’s just one of many wonderful things about Kiss the Ground. Another stellar documentary on Netflix, it’s about soil health, carbon emissions, and the things we can do as people, governments, and corporations to improve things. Often, exposes leave me feeling defeated; this time I felt motivated, challenged, excited. Spoiler alert: COMPOST!

kitchen composting is a great lesson for kids
three cheers for well rotted manure!

The Daring Romantics podcast is one of my favorites. Author Lindsey Eryn always seems so casually approachable, so sweet and soft, yet her material is substantial, usuable, important. Often her message is a mix between Christian faith and the Law of Attraction, which is so right up my alley. This episode titled “Paving the Way for the Miraculous” is definitely worth a listen. Four accessible ideas. Grab ’em.

Handsome and I watched The Social Dilemma, and I have a lot to say, ha! Have you watched it yet? Are you surprised by any of it? Do you think these realizations will impact your online behavior, or if you want them to, how will you facilitate that? I am especially interested in learning more about the pleasure-pain balance theory. In this house, we are determined to facilitate more face to face communication with friends and loved ones, somehow, eventually. And we have discussed the value of inviting perspectives from people who seem to be very different from us. Here are two of my favorite quotes from the show:

“This is stupid, we can do better. It is the critics who are the true optimists.”

and…

“It’s going to take a miracle. And that miracle, of course, is collective will.”

Joy the Baker directed us to read an article on The Atlantic, How We Survive the Winter. Maybe you have already seen it? I read it this morning, was not surprised by the grim data, and actually feel uplifted knowing that if we face anything with some honesty then we can take control of our experience of it, even the worst stuff. I cannot control the big picture, only my contribution to it. So I will be writing my own Winter Survival Plan, and I hope you do too.

My friend Dee is a gardener after my own heart, for many reasons (she cointed that delicious phrase, English with an Oklahoma accent). This week she shared her thoughts and progress lately on growing a native prairie filled with wildflowers. Handsome and I are working steadily on transforming our front field into something like this, so Dee’s post was fun to read. By the way, treat yourself to viewing her blog on your PC, not a mobile device. Her homepage and photography are mouthwatering.

My mom, my baby sister Gen, and I are now reading Killers of the Flower Moon. So far it’s a crisp, dry read, a nonfiction history lesson about some unsettling events in Oklahoma Indian Territory. I will report back soon.

What are you reading right now? What have you watched lately? What podcasts do you recommend? Let’s consume good stuff.

Thank you for checking in. I hope you and your people are well.

XOXOXOXO

cashews, watermelon, & ancient stoic wisdom

Do you ever wake up and think, Man from now on I will live off of cashews and watermelon. Just send me outside, that’s all I need.

Summer is taking hold here now, and I have these moments often. My heart opens generously, my mind is pliable and calm and trembling with ideas, all at once, and my body’s needs simplify.

Sometimes the chickens eat breakfast out of watermelon rinds.

Cashews, watermelon, and limitless hours of sunshine. Okay, maybe also some lake running and trail hiking, a few excellent mugs of dark coffee, a big clean swimming pool, and thin cotton pajamas for wearing after a very good, scrubby shower, which you take only after a long day of gardening and running. Maybe a stack of books and journals. Oh! Also friends and family for bonfire conversation and the new Top Gun movie with greasy popcorn and sticky red Twizzlers.

And suddenly I am Steve Martin’s character Navin Johnson from The Jerk who leaves with just this ashtray, that’s all he needs! I feel so sad every time I think of him lugging around his miscellaneous treasures, dog nipping and barking, but really wasn’t it wasteful to have a disco room in his mansion? And I am very thankful for our modern consumer protections which will hopefully keep us all from going cross eyed from wearing new inventions like his.

I digress.

Wait, also, in addition to Top Gun, what other movies were you excited to see this summer, that are being released late thanks to the pandemic?

There is something else I want to talk to you about. I came across it while soaking up some ancient stoics’ teachings, and I think it is so useful anytime, but especially now: “Amor Fati,” translated from Latin as “a love of fate.” This is, “the state in which one is in friendly acceptance of fate… the consummate achievement of human life, and the only path to happiness.”  

How does this strike you? Let me expound just a tad, then answer again, in case at first blush it feels too much like, “bloom where you are planted,” which I know has some negative vibes surrounding it, as if we are resigning to something we don’t choose for ourselves. Okay:

Marcus Aurelius is one of the stoics credited for loving the concept of Amor Fati. He had a perspective that demanded we use all of our circumstances, the good and the bad, the ugly and unexpected, as kindling for our inner fire. A podcast on this topic offered that analogy. On Daily Stoic, I heard the host say, “Everything you throw in front of a fire becomes fuel for the fire. A person who is hungry, who can make use of everything that happens to them, that’s the person who gets better and better.”

Another echo I am hearing for Amor Fait is the ever so soothing encouragement, “Smile at the thought.” I first heard this through a running blogger’s mom, who told her daughter to deal with anxieties by literally, physically with her face, smiling every time a negative situation presented itself in her mind. Over time it rewires your thoughts and emotions to connect with that problem in a more positive way. This is a great tactic, and I use it often, though I will admit that at first it feels a bit maniacal, ha. Stick with it.

None of these are exercises in resignation or abandonment of our own drives and ambitions. I am so not into promoting self-flagellation. To me, it’s feels like the exact opposite. Amor Fati feels like taking control of our attitude, intentions, and energies and using every circumstance in life to our advantage, accepting as gifts all that what we are given and putting those gifts to work. It feels like an invitation to make something beautiful out of what might be seen as scraps and obstacles, throwaways and even dead stops.

The obstacle is the way.

Friendly acceptance, not begrudging compliance. This tweak provides such a lift!

Starting over, employing our ingenuity and tenacity, building and rebuilding as often as necessary to design ever more beautiful mosaics from shattered pieces rather than forever mourning the broken plates. This is a transformative approach to the inevitable problems and disappointments in life. Nothing is wasted. We redeem everything, especially time. Waiting for something becomes an invitation to learn or practice something else.

With this approach, the possibilities for growth and improvement are limitless. We are limitless.

I hope that when we are met with roadblocks and disappointments, we cope with them more gracefully than Navin Johnson did. I also hope that we have plenty of cashews and watermelon, if it happens in summertime. It’s the small comforts, after all.

“The obstacle is the way.”
XOXOXOXO