Lap Time

This morning I unpacked my laptop and plugged it in to update the Internet security setting. I normally only use the laptop when I am travelling. I've never got the hang of sitting on the couch and using it, it just seems odd to do that. Funny how habitual we creatures can be. Who knows, I managed to go from only using a computer in the office to now happily typing away at the dining room table. Perhaps one day I'll be an old lady with a computer on her lap. At any rate I forgot that I have a different set of favourites on my laptop's sidebar and thought I'd share a few with you:

The Idea Of Home. I love her latest post.

Amy. That post made me cry.

Following this woman's program has been life changing for me. If you are sober and find yourself scarfing down sugary things or devouring white bread with the same intensity as alcohol you might identify with what she has to offer. Kathleen now has a blog and I particularly liked this post.

Simple Things Challenge

Chris over at Enchanted Oak is hosting a Simple Things Challenge where she asks that you post a piece about the joy of the simple things in life. Her family will donate $2 to Heartline Ministries in Haiti for every post about the joy of the simple things in life. If you don't have a blog just leave a comment over at her blog and that counts, too.

A few of the simple things in life that bring me joy:

Every time I lay on the couch and watch TV I tell dearest one I feel like I am living a luxurious life. I feel totally spoiled when I do that simple thing. It's a bonus if I keep my eyes open. With the Olympics coming up I'm hoping to indulge in laying on the couch a lot.

Biting into a fresh peach. For all the times in my life where buying fresh fruit was not an option, I feel incredibly grateful when I get to eat a peach.

A drink of cool water out of a stainless steel measuring cup. Whatever that 'bite' is to the taste of that brings me back to my childhood. We had a spring on our land and we would crouch down and pick up that "spring cup" and drink.

The feel of the sunshine on my cheek. Sometimes I just stand there and soak it in, pretending I'm being kissed by God.

When dearest one looks at me with that sparkle in his eyes. He has the most beautiful smile that makes rainbow shaped wrinkles appear above his eyes and sun burst ones around the sides. I know he will grow old with those wrinkles setting in so that they are permanent. Whenever I see an elderly person with wrinkles like that I know they spent more time laughing than frowning.

Here You Go

Here are some links to read today cause I've got nothing.

Brave Little Girl. The sweetness of this little girl made me teary.

And Then We Laughed. I love the way Elizabeth mothers those daughters and the way she writes about it.

Prayers and more Prayers. Michael was a great encourager to me in my early days of blogging. It was also through his other site that I found this blog and eventually found my way into recovery from sexual addiction.

I like a good laugh and I like to think. It's great when one blog does both.

Crunching My Way To Humility

“And how do you like your crow?” he asked.

”Well done, “ I replied.

I heard a barely restrained self satisfied laugh on his end of the phone while I felt my face turn brick red on mine. Several months ago I’d sent him a good natured, yet firm inquiry, about a detail that he'd promised me he'd see come to fruition. One that once taken care of, would help me in the day to day operations in our office. He apologized graciously and said he’d fix it right away. A few weeks ago I was still waiting for the matter to be resolved so I called to see where things stood. Puzzled, he told me he had taken care of it immediately after our last conversation. He sounded a bit flustered and said he’d look into it. I am at the bottom of the pecking order when it comes to company hierarchy. He is at the top of one of the rungs. I've spent a goodly amount of energy in my life with an "I sure showed them, didn't I?" attitude. I thought that was behind me.

Apparently not.

This morning I looked inside our last inter office courier envelope before I slipped my documents inside. Once a week these envelopes travel several hundred miles between us and our head office where Mr. Apologizing Graciously works. Staring me right in the face was that envelope I’d called him about two weeks ago, my name in bold black letters on the front.

Um, yah.

I estimate it took me 2 months to get to the bottom of the pile of envelopes.

I thought about taking the easy way out by emailing him, letting him know it had been my mistake that had prompted my last phone call to him. I instantly knew the right thing to do was to pick up the phone and fess up. I also knew there was a good chance that today’s courier might hold a replacement envelope and I really hoped I didn’t have to eat a double helping of humble pie. I phoned him and said,

“I’m going to have to eat crow so go gentle on me, okay?”

I explained what I’d found this morning. There was a missed beat or two before he chuckled. Damn, I deserved that laugh. I told him it was a good thing he had no idea how deeply I blush because my face was brick red as we spoke. He graciously told me the conversation would self destruct as soon as we both hung up the phone, never to be spoken of again. I wouldn't blame him if he high fived someone the moment he put down the phone.

Eating crow is crunchy and tastes awful.

But it does wonders for keeping the ego in check.

Soaking It In

"I need to go back and say hello to her."

I was no more than 10 steps into the mall when I recognized her bleached blond hair and the way she was smiling at someone in the hair stylist's chair. I was making a beeline for the bathroom and after I walked past her some of the lines from "Just For Today" ran through my head. It amazes me how I will ignore that which I don't want to pay attention to, like going out of my way by extending kindness to someone I dislike and then spend enormous energy fixating on some thought that I would be better off ignoring, like that fleeting pain I had in my side three weeks ago that I'm sure is really cancer and how it's going to kill me before the month is up. Lord have mercy.

I've been trying lately to listen to those little nudges instead of thinking it's just another case of me imagining things. I wonder if the Holy Spirit gets tired of being mistaken for paranoia. Or disgruntled by how much selective hearing I can muster.

So I went back and said hi to her. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me. She has no way of knowing I've purposely walked way around her in times past so that she wouldn't notice me in public. She tends to have loud, gushy shows of emotion that make me embarrassed to be seen with her. I've always chalked up those displays to the brain injury she suffered in a car accident before I ever met her, although that has not helped me be one bit more gracious towards her.

She used to be the girlfriend of my brother-in-law. I've had a long history of not trusting her, for really good reasons, but I don't have to be rude to her, either. The night my brother in law was killed, when a drunken friend ran over him, she had had words with him about his drinking. It was an argument/ultimatum they'd had many times before. The next morning it was all the police could do to restrain her from running to his body as he lay on the ground. In dearest one's family, where being discreet while showing emotion is prized, I've always admired her outright wailing at his funeral. I think we'd all be a little better off if we could allow ourselves that freedom in grief.

Yesterday we talked about my brother-in-law as we do when we meet. I imagine we always will. Maybe one day we will grasp that he really did die such a horrific death. There was a settledness and good will about her as we talked. She was kind, as always. Happy to see me, asking after the kids and dearest one. I think I was present in a conversation with her for the first time in my life instead of counting the seconds until I could walk away. I stood there soaking in her genuine warmth and kindness, accepting it instead of dismissing it because I have a huge ass resentment towards her (which I only recognized as one as I wrote this...blogging can be dangerous for one's mental health.)

I battle my ego nearly every time I try to listen to that still, small voice inside of me. There's something a little ironic about taking action while simultaneously patting oneself on the back.

I walked away from our conversation humbled by her kindness to me.
Lord have mercy.

Rubbing Off The Edges

She looks like a little bird except I've never seen a tiny bird with such a grim look on its face. Yesterday I saw her on the far side of the big church, shoulders hunched under her familiar blue trench coat, blue paisley scarf wrapped around her hair so that only her pointy nose was visible from where I sat. Her familiar presence comforted me. Funny how that is. We might complain bitterly about the scowly neighbour three pews ahead of us and yet community is not truly community without all of us, not just the ones we take a shine to. How else would we get our rough edges rubbed off without people who rub us the wrong way?

The first time I noticed her, several years ago, I watched how she walked primly up to the altar after the Mass and firmly blew out the candles. I remember thinking to myself that she was a no nonsense kind of woman, the kind who might whack someone with her cane if necessary. Earlier, I had watched how she looked at the man beside her, looked the other away, took a second look, heaved a sigh that said, "oh, alright" and then gingerly held his hand during the Lord's prayer.

I wonder if she is as crotchety as she appears to be. I wonder if she is like my scary looking third grade teacher who had the highest of standards and had a heart of compassion. I wonder what her story is. What tragedies and consolations she has experienced in her life. We don't get to be who we are without there being a story, do we?

Really, Really

I haven't posted this poem in a long time but I've been gathering quotes for a talk I'm giving at an upcoming retreat and came across it. When I was brand new in Al-Anon another member gave it to me and all those definitions of letting go surprised the heck out of me. "Really?" I wanted to question her. I can only imagine she would have replied, "Really, really."

Letting Go

To "let go" does not mean to stop caring
it means I can't do it for someone else.

To "let go" is not to cut myself off
it's the realization, I can't control another.

To "let go" is not to enable
but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To "let go" is not to try to change or blame another
it's to make the most of myself.

To "let go" is not to 'care for'
but to 'care about.'

To 'let go" is not to fix
but to be supportive.

To "let go" is not to judge
but to allow another to be a human being.

To "let go" is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes
but to allow others to affect their destinies.

To "let go" is not to be protective
it's to permit another to face reality.

To 'let go" is not to deny
but to accept.

To "let go" is not to nag, scold or argue
but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.

To "let go" is not to adjust everything to my desires
but to take each day as it comes, and cherish myself in it.

To "let go" is not to criticize and regulate anybody
but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To "let go" is not to regret the past
but to grow and live for the future.

To "let go" is to fear less
and love more.