How I understand "being present"... 

Penikese Island, July 2011

Singles Awareness Day got me so distracted that I almost forgot about Valentine's Day. Fortunately, this sermon reminded me of Rumi's poem that lay quietly in the archives of my mind (but beats loudly upon my heart):

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. 

The next day, while emptying the top shelf of a cupboard during the great March Forth project, I came upon an indeterminate object. I took it down and it turned out to be my father's banjo. I remembered it from our previous house (nearly thirty years ago!) but hadn't seen it since, probably because it stayed up in that cupboard wrapped in bubble wrap all these years. He told me it was given to him as a child by his neighbors. So the instrument must be at least seventy years old, and that's only if it were brand new when they gave it to him. In any case...

It's true Americana, an expression of love, a symbol of my childhood, and the perfect punctuating note for this quote.

At school, someone asked what I would want to learn or what kind of project I would do if I had four months to do it and money weren't an issue. (Seniors can do this in the spring semester; normally, they design an internship.) People said things like scuba-dive, learn costume design, or go to a far-away vineyard.

Previously, that would have totally been my thing - the idea of grape harvesting, living in some sparse conditions amidst fellow foreigners, celebrating nightly with the fruits of your labor, soaking in the sun and earth. Or encircling myself with ribbons and embellishments and finally learning how to sew. But the first thing that came to my mind was to listen to all of MLK's sermons. Not the most industrious use of time, but that's all I want to do these days (along with Andy Stanley), especially after listening to the three dimensions of a complete life.

Then I remembered that I want to make a children's book, an interest-goal I've had unfulfilled for so long now. These thoughts were promptly followed by selfish me, I should save the world, cure cancer....

But my real dream idea would be to fix up my (imaginary) cottage on the Swedish island where my father's family still lives. In reality, they do have a cottage, which I've never seen, but I like to think it looks like this:

Continuing the fantasy, this would somehow be 10 years ago, before it became a questionable or maybe just impossible trip health-wise for my dad. Of course money is no object, we're all fit and healthy, can communicate, get along beautifully, swim unselfconsciously in a pristine lake, sit around happily eating lingonberries fresh from the mosquito-free, organic garden patch right outside the back door, and retire by a quaint fire, sleeping soundly protected by the native trolls.

What would you do?

Andy Stanley brings it home again. His sermons are amazingly scripted to my life. I would like my family to watch part one and especially part two of Breathing Room. Talk about hitting home!

"I wish I'd had the courage to live the life true to myself,
not the life others expected of me."

Also a good companion talk to Mark Buchanan's book The Rest of God.

Kale Mango Lime Smoothie

I love this one because it requires few ingredients and is simple and delicious. A twist (ha) on this recipe from Real Simple magazine.

Kale
Mango
Banana
Lime

Blend kale with water, add mango (I used frozen) and banana, finish with lime juice. I used half of a lime for 2 smoothies since I always make two at a time. Yum!

I keep searching for what I'm supposed to do with this here life, because there's no way God made me to be miserable. I'm sure He's hanging signs all over but I must keep looking the wrong way. Well, this one was comically clear :) Just after writing my top 50 countdown, where all things beauty-ballet-body were leaping out at me, I checked out my favorite singer's site and he had just posted these words:

"Now go, be that ballerina you always wanted to be."

Then for some reason I landed on the Forbes magazine site, of all places, and the thought of the day was “In life as in the dance, grace glides on blistered feet.” (Alice Abrams). A few days later, I turned on the radio and what should be playing but that song from A Chorus Line "At the Ballet." Hey!

Kids these days...look what my students did :)

The sweetest gift.