Lazy W Marie

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

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heart of the home

We had another plumbing emergency last week.

Around 7:30 Wednesday evening, Handsome wandered into the pantry to get some animals crackers for Klaus and discovered standing water and dripping wet shelves. A water pipe behind the kitchen pantry wall, and actually behind the built in cabinets surrounding the refrigerator, which makes it much worse, busted and leaked water all over our well stocked dry goods, cast iron skillet collection, large countertop appliances being stored there. All over the walls, all over the floor.

It is, unfortunately, a familiar sight. We have expereinced this a handful of times now, in different parts of the house, so we knew exactly what to do and jumped right to it, with maybe some snarling and groaning and WHY WHY WHY thrown in for good measure. Are you familiar with the scientific study which found that some gentle cursing helps alleviate physical pain? I think this also applies to plumbing emergencies.

My cute guy provided all the brain power for discerning the needed repairs, then he swiftly and patiently made those repairs. Cleanup and reordering the kitchen is my responsibility, which I am always happy to shoulder. That night the kitchen was sucked dry of standing water, and all the broken sheetrock was removed. The fridge was even wheeled back into place only after the floor there got rubbed to (almost) true white. But, truly exhausted, we surrendered at that point and went to bed with the shockingly voluminous contents of our tightly packed pantry strewn all over the dining room table and limited countertop space in the kitchen. It was a wild sight. Like a small grocery store had exploded in a very small space.

The next morning when I stepped into the cold, blue-black kitchen for coffee, it was all still waiting to be reordered. Piles and stacks of kitchen contents, all shadowy and chaotic and, in some places, still damp. The pantry mostly empty, yawning and awkward and asking me if, while we’re at it, should we paint?

(No. We should not paint.)

I actually kind of love jobs like this. I love rehabbing overgrown gardens, and I love a good, vicious decluttering job. In fact my early November task list was already headlined by “audit and deep clean kitchen,” in order to be ready for Thanksgiving. This was perfect timing. (Hey please nobody tell my husband I was glad it happened. Thanks.)

Okay here is the real story:

During those first hours that next morning, when the kitchen was repaired but in utter disarray, I could not focus on much else. I did all the basic farm chores first thing, but the state of the kitchen was preoccupying me. Although neither of us needed a full meal yet, nor were we expecting any guests, it was unsettling. I can tolerate lots of things undone, but not an unmade bed and certainly not an insane kitchen.

The kitchen is the heart of the home, after all, and when your heart is our of order or in disrepair, or even when it is not clean and refreshed, all other systems are at risk. Nothing else feels quite calm and safe to me when the kitchen is wonky.

So I spent several hours getting it just right. And it was great. Better in a dozen ways than before the mess, even. Every surface got scubbed. Every ingredient got inventoried and replaced to fresh new food bins. Every applaince got a once over and a tidy new spot. I refolded the ten thousand kitchen towels we have apparently accumulated, and I made long overdue decisions about mismatched napkin sets. By the time Handsome was headed home, I could cook dinner like I was playing in a new playground. And I relished the sensation of openness it all created inside me.

Now that our small, cozy kitchen is back in order, clean and shining and restocked, I feel equally compelled to make sure my heart is in order. As much as I want to feed our family a gorgeous Thanksgiving feast in less than three weeks, and then host many fun little Christmas parties after that, I mostly want to be healthy and soft and strong, reordered in my bones and in my soul, to serve my loved ones a good emotional feast, too.

I have gotten it wrong plenty over the years. In ways I did not mean to, in ways I was not aware of at the time, because I was focused on the wrong details. The wrong themes in general. I have been in phases where I focused more on table settings than repairing relationships. I have focused more on the dessert table than on speaking sweetly, or thinking sweetly. I have sometimes focused more on making sure we cook enough for everyone to have leftovers than on making sure we have an abundance of quality time with each other.

None of these hostessing priorities are bad, but they are not the most precious things. When I get them out of order, people feel it.

((My Mom always gets it right…xoxoxo))

Something cool God is showing me is that it does not have to be one or the other.

We actually can offer each other both a beautiful table and a feast for connection. We can deepen and enrich relationships while we plan and cook and share traditional foods. We can enjoy the dessert table and pretty centerpieces and we can speak sweetly.

It is all available. It is all part of the best feast.

How wonderful that time and grace have afforded us year after to year to improve. How magical that our family contiues to gather, however many people we add to this lucky roster, however busy our separate lives are, however much grief or stress we are feeling. We gather. And we need a good kitchen and lots of good hearts.

A kitchen that has been cleaned and organized, well stocked and prepared, can feed an army beautifully. A heart that has been filled with truth and good messages, that makes an effort to scrub out bitterness and ego, a heart that is full of the best gifts, can then share the best gifts while serving the best food.

While my kitchen is almost ready for Thanksgiving, my heart could used some attention, and I am so grateful for the time and appetite to do it!

“I cleansed the mirror of my heart,
now it reflects the moon.”
~Renseki

team free turkey & my near miss with a hidden camera tv show

I regret to inform you, dear reader, that this is a true story.

On a chilly morning about a week before extended family was due in town for Thanksgiving, I had quite a memorable visit to Midwest City. First I ran seven easy miles at Regional Park. Then I stopped at Winco for the final push of groceries for our massive feast. This was a day I had been eagerly anticipating: The well organized purchase of all the loveliest and most perishable Thanksgiving Day supplies, including of course the centerpiece turkeys, plural because we planned to feed at least twenty four people.

Dressed in running tights and a now damp sweatshirt, a black wool coat covered with blonde and grey horse hair, and muddy running shoes, I wheeled my grocery cart all through the raw kale and firm pears, the walnuts and the butter, the heavy cream and lemons and bags of stale bread. I zipped happily through my menu and shopping list then ventured over to the frozen meats. There, I was thrilled to see a sign boasting, “Free turkey with $125 purchase!” I can spend that much money just driving into the parking lot of any grocery store, so I did not bother tallying up my treasure. I just selected two frozen turkeys, grabbed a few more needed items, and made my way to the registers.

I slid easily into an empty space attended by a cashier who was new to me. We exchanged pleasantries, and I asked her if either of my turkeys could be included in the $125 minimum for a free turkey. She thought so, sure, but would happily confirm. She speed walked over to her manager, they conferred for several minutes, and she glided back to me beaming. “Yes! No problem!”

She was the picture of efficiency, relaying my Thanksgiving groceries from one hand to the next, scanning prices, her fingers flying to input produce codes, making effervescent small talk with me as she worked. Yes, very excited for Thanksgiving, oh my gosh yes, the weather forecast is beautiful so far! Are you hosting? yes, yes, it’s my favorite thing. And wow this is the perfect time of day to shop. No one is here! So nice.

I looked around, just enjoying the spaciousness of the store, admiring the extremely well stocked shelves and symmetrical displays, wondering how many people it takes to keep so many chrome and glass surface that shiny.

When she reached the end of my massive order, she cocked her brunette curls to one side and kind of clucked. The total was only $121 and some change. I was surprised because, as I mentioned, it is normally so easy to spend that minimum and then some. No one was waiting behind me. So she encouraged me to grab another item or two to reach the required $125 for, in case you have forgotten, the free turkey.

I abandoned my groceries and did that stupid ball-of-your-feet jog people do when they are trying to look like they are running cooperatively across a street in front of a yielding vehicle, searching without my list for any items I might have neglected. Canned soda, yes. Okay a couple of packages of brown-and-serve dinner rolls, too. That should do it.

I rounded an aisle that becomes a straightaway to Efficient Brunette Curls, and my heart sank. In those few moments since I had polite-jogged away, three groups of shoppers had accumulated behind my now unattended cart. I saw a well dressed woman about my age driving a cart with a similarly generous arsenal of ingredients; in front of her was an older black woman, dressed in a loose gown and wearing a scarf around her recently set hair, leaning against a cart that held only cranberry juice, a bag of oranges, and a few boxed pantry items; and in front of her was a young couple. They were both festooned with tattoos and wearing cropped concert tees, black combat boots, and vividly colored hair. I squirmed past each shopper, whispered my awkward apologies, and presented those spontaneous purchases for adding to the goal.

This is where the story really begins.

Efficient Brunette Curls cheerfully rang up my new items, took a pleasantly deep breath because this transaction was almost done, and then cocked her head again, clucking again. The total was somehow lower than before.

I am no scientist, but it sure seems like adding more items to a total should increase that total. Are we all in agreement on this?

Something deep inside me set off awareness in every physical sense. The shiny surfaces were shinier. The space between the aisles became oceanic. Neat towers of boxed products swayed like unstable skyscrapers, at risk now of toppling. The music playing in the distant speakers was like a booming, scratchy concert. I could smell the refrigerant in nearby coolers.

I glanced briefly over my left shoulder, mouthing inaudible apologies to the four people probably waiting for me to get on with my stupid life. Everyone shook their heads sweetly and dismissed the niceness, it’s fine it’s fine, no worries.

Efficient Brown Curls had already taken the matter into her own perfectly manicured hands, clicking and clacking her heart out until she felt she had reached an impasse. “I don’t get it.”

“It should be enough,” I said, never able to resist stating the obvious.

“It should be enough, yes.” An ally.

The woman last in line, the one with the ample grocery haul like mine, stage-whispered through the small crowd, “Are you trying to get the free turkey? I am too! What’s wrong?”

Okay, maybe this is actually where the story begins.

Curls explained to her surprisingly rapt audience the mystery of the diminishing grocery total, and I made sure to interrupt her a lot by saying how sorry I was to delay them all, and also trying to justify my immense collection of kale and oranges and walnuts and butter and, you all might have noticed, two turkeys! Because it is our parents’ fiftieth anniversary year, and the whole family will be in Oklahoma for Thanksgiving, and we need it to be really perfect. My body flooded with whatever hormone keeps you from being able to shut up but makes you want to run away as fast as possible.

But I had $118 worth of reasons for staying put. Which meant I needed to spend another $7 or $8 to get a free turkey.

Here, I should point out that the turkey I was hoping to get for free was only about $14. My husband is in charge of our finances overall, just to rest you assured.

Okay. Efficient Brunette Curls tapped a few more keys on her Magical Grocery Machine and marched with purpose away to the manager’s bench. She approached. “Your honor, I object,” is probably how she started. They wagged their heads at each other a few times, exchanging points of view beyond our hearing. Curls, now our fearless leader, returned to us.

“You just have to get to $125. It should work.” We had made no meaningful headway.

I was completely unwilling to do that stupid polite jog again, especially in front of people, especially in front of people who had been waiting for me already, so I panicked. And friends, I mean, I panicked.

I let my head pivot freely on my neck a few times then spotted the bottle of 100% real cranberry juice in the older woman’s cart. It was not the juice cocktail; it was the real stuff. Pure cranberry. My brain saw it as a gold mine and said to my body, “That’s it! That’s the solution. Buy her juice, it will fix everything!” So I did, and she smiled and said, “Thank you Jesus!”

What happened next really truly makes no sense.

The grand total did not go up, not ever by one cent. It actually went down.

I added a not cheap grocery item to the order, and the total diminished again.

By now, the young couple, the juice loving lady with the recently set hair, and the Thanksgiving hostess in back were all four gathered close, drawn together as if by an invisible thread, the common thread of either concern or wonderment. What is happening? We all needed to know.

If moments ago my body wanted to flee, then now it now wanted disappear entirely. The whole scene felt like a hidden camera television experiment. A What Would You Do kind of situation. As Curls worked furiously on her Magical Grocery Machine, my gaze expanded again to the store overall. Has it always been so clean? Is it normal this well stocked and tidy? And what about my overly accommodating neighbors… Each of them seemed suddenly like caricatures of themselves, like they were cast by a director to play very distinct parts, unlikely neighbors in a supposedly spontaneous public moment. I knew it.

Everyone was crowded now around the keypad where I would have donated blood right then and there just to pay and be gone.

The young couple, the two women, and me in my horse hair covered coat and sweaty running clothes.

Curls half-demanded that her manager come help. I gulped.

The manager arrived wearing an annoyed expression and, I kid you not, a nametag: Karen.

Karen did a Mike Tyson-punch at three or four buttons on the store side of the keypad and took one of my turkeys in hand. She asked me is this is the one I wanted for free or NOT. My eyes could not have have blinked shut even with great effort. Yes ma’am, please. OK THEN and she bowled that frozen bird all the way down the otherwise vacant conveyor belt so that it crashed into the metal end. The girl behind me gasped. Karen said nothing and stomped away.

The grocery total went down even more. I felt dizzy.

“It’s okay! I will just buy the turkey, it’s not worth it. Please let me pay.”

“Absolutely not. This makes no sense.” The world’s most patient and meticulous cashier suggested we undo the entire order and ring it up all over again. An audit, if you will. “There has to be a reason,” she insisted. And she seemed unfazed by her manager’s small tantrum.

The gasping tattoo girl behind me had since noticed some fine print in a small sticker near the keypad: “This offer does not include alcohol, tobacco, lottery tickets, or milk.”

Ok, milk! Yes, I had purchased half a gallon of whole milk because my little brother wanted a certain kind of mashed potatoes. Okay, that is a few bucks. What should we do? My body asked my brain.

Well, my brain suggested that we panic in new and better ways.

I looked at the items Gasping Tattoo Girl held in her artful arms: A plastic baggie of green onions, something in a box, and an enormous pumpkin pie from the bakery.

BINGO! My brain said this in Cousin Eddie’s voice. Obviously.

I literally took the pumpkin pie from her hands (without verbally asking permission, just with my eyes, because, that is just how this new and better version of panic manifested) and thrust it at Fearless Leader: “TRY THIS!”

Gasping Tattoo Girl hissed a happy, affirmative yyeesssss and threw her hand up in a heavy metal wagging gesture I am pretty sure was invented by Ozzy Osborne.

Now. Everybody guess what happened next.

The total went down again.

I really was beginning to consciously believe that a team of cameras was positioned in hidden spots all around us. This was too uncanny, too weird, too uncomfortable and hilarious. But I could not laugh yet; in fact I was on the verge of crying.

“No no no, don’t worry honey,” the Cranberry Juice Lady said in a warm, oracle kind of Oklahoma accent.

Hostess Lady agreed, “I need to see what happens, I need my free turkey too!” She even tried to rally a group cheer, pumping her slender LL Bean arms in the air and chanting all alone, “TREAM FREE TURKEY!” I tried to join her in this cheer but wow that felt self congratulatory, so it fizzled almost immediately. I felt bad for her, but she was laughing.

“Yeah no worries,” Ozzy Fans both said, “Let’s see how this plays out.” She petted her now paid for holiday dessert like it was a kitten.

Everyone leaned in towards the keypad, all of us aimed at it with such intensity.

The intimacy of space and purpose with these unlikely strangers really took my breath away.

We continued to chat. At some point, our group research stumbled onto the possibility that each customer was perhaps limited to one turkey. Like maybe the system refused to ring up both of them due a limited supply. Curls was so intent of getting me my turkeys as promised that she jokingly said, “I should just let you have it, how will the system know?” I begged her not to do that, please don’t get in trouble, and I glanced fearfully at Your honor’s bench in case she could somehow intuit our long distance conversation.

What finally happened is pretty anticlimactic. By removing one turkey from the order, the subtotal was enough to get one turkey for free. Then I just paid for the second turkey. Plus the half gallon of real cranberry juice and a huge pumpkin pie, which each went to their respective homes. In all the chaos, I did resist the urge to tell the young Ozzy Girl that it would have been much cheaper to bake the pie from scratch, but after that bizarre display, I doubt she would listen to any home-ec advice from me.

I paid for the big order. I paid for the a la carte turkey. I said my goodbyes and thank yous and wished my five new friends a very wonderful Thanksgiving. Then I hightailed it past Your Honor Karen and out of the too clean store before the hidden camera crew could catch me and ask for a signed release. I kind of regretted not waiting to see if LL Bean got her free turkey. She was rooting for me so hard.

By the time I reached my car to unload these precious feast supplies, my heart was racing and my eyes still had not really closed. I texted my husband, “You are not going to believe what just happened,” and I drove back to the farm.

The End.

family thanksgiving 2021

Our family just polished off a luscious, eventful, soul-satisfying Thanksgiving week. We filled not just one day but one glorious week with fun and love.

Dunaway family Thanksgiving, 2021

We shared meals and indulged in local outings. We played games and told stories. We swapped jokes, cooked, cleaned, cooked and cleaned again, and “helped” Dad with crossword puzzles. We played with all the many family dogs and teased Gen mercilessly for not wanting to play any dogs. “He’s breathing on me! He’s breathing on me!” (She’s smart, but also weird, so we don’t let this go.)

Ang caught lots of teasing for, well, one unforgettable recipe typo which will go down in family legend. (She’s weird, but also smart, so this mistake was delightful.)

We drew names for Christmas gifting, dove into an early round of the Saran Wrap game since we won’t all be together in December, big thanks to Ang for spontaneously gathering those supplies late the evening before our big feast. And we compared notes on how we will spend the coming winter months.

Thanks to Ang, we played the Saran Wrap game early this year!
He wastes nothing, especially if it can be fashioned into something majestic.

Gen, in town from Los Angeles for the first time since the winter holidays of 2019, ran six miles with me at the lake, and we were amazed by our ability to keep up a truly lively conversation while maintaining a pretty smooth pace.

Smiling’s our favorite!! (Me with Gen)

Philip made a decadent chocolate-peanutbutter cheesecake from scratch, and his patience was tested by his older sisters’ chaotic, well, everything. Kenzie taught us a Tik-Tok dance, we might soon be famous. There was a chopsticks prank, and there were tiny chalkboard easels for displaying our thankfulness.

Hundreds of unforgettable moments filled the hours, and several long strands of warm, binding affection encircled the days. We all needed this Thanksgiving Week, probably more than we realized. If last year we held our breath and muddled through, clinging to the bones of tradition, then this year we enjoyed the greatest exhale and then laughed until we felt it in every cell. We luxuriated in the best Thanksgiving has to offer.

The glory of a well executed family holiday is not any one person’s doing, but rather the result of every member’s best effort. Cooking, arranging, engineering games, tending to traditions and details, spearheading city events, amassing extra furniture, telling the best stories, laughing uncontrollably, dancing, listening, leading, following. Being the best looking and also the firstborn (brushes off shoulder).

Every ingredient matters. We rely on each person bring his or her A Game, then we all enjoy the alchemy of our vivid personalities blending into something greater then just the sum of our parts. To me this illustrates part of the magic of family. God gave us this beautiful lifelong gift. By design, it seems, we live more fully as a group when each person steps fully into his or her gifts.

Our parents make everything better,
and they work so hard to keep everyone connected.
The older I get, the more I am amazed by what an accomplishment this is.

That said, at the end of the day, we owe an extra debt to Mom and Dad. Their forty-eight years of pressing traditions into their kids’ hearts has yielded an insatiable appetite for more of everything. Why else would we be drawn so irresistibly to home base, to the same foods, the same seasonal activities, the same faces? I love it all. I am so thankful for this nourishing rhythm. So thankful for my small, young family of origin that has grown and matured into my very favorite group of adults and new children.

Of course we missed Joe (my middle brother) and Halee and their two handsome boys, who are living their U.S. Navy chapter in Spain, but they are happy and thriving. We enjoyed some Facetime screams and giggles with them as we feasted. They happened to be in Barcelona that day!

And we missed Dante (our first nephew) and his bride Deaven, who travelled to spend thanksgiving with her family in California. We had some Facetime laughs with Dante, too, and made sure he knew he was missing the most fun here with us.

Always, for so many holiday seasons over the years, we missed Jocelyn. We are hurting for her and for Jessica, as grief is complex and has a way of intensifying around holidays. Yet even in this, I can give thanks, because the dense, soft warmth of family absorbs so much pain. The safe, circular walls of family keep the worst of the world’s darkness at bay. We can help the girls when they let us, and we always pray and stay ready when they retreat tp privacy.

Can you even imagine the party we are going to have when every single family member is here with us?

This weekend, Gen is back in Los Angeles. Each of our local households has retreated for a bit of rest and maybe holiday cleanup, Christmas gift shopping, and decorating. We’re enjoying a few quiet autumn days before December gains its own glittering momentum.

When I say my heart is full, I mean I feel both short of breath from it all and deeply slowed and rested. Like the simplest things are all we need.

And how wonderful that such a magical week can land me right back on the threshold of my amazing normal life.

Thank you for stopping here. And thank you to everyone who left such loving notes on recent posts. I hope your Thanksgiving was everything you needed it to be, and if not, I hope you know how to step into the next chapter wisely and lovingly. As we begin to observe some Advent weeks, please consider checking in here for some inspiration. I have some good things brewing!

“Thanksgiving was never meant
to be shut up in a single day.”
~Robert Caspar Lintner
XOXOXO

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