Working at a steady pace with no interruptions is one of my favorite ways to spend a day. I don't work with a to-do list, I just dive in and go...from one room to the next. In the yard, I work randomly until I'm tired enough to fall into bed. I would even choose a day at work over a day at the beach for the satisfaction it brings. I'm not a workaholic, ambitious, or an over-achiever. One look at my resume and you'd see that I've accomplished little more than a string of entry level jobs and an undergrad degree. Starting a business was a huge leap that forced me out of my comfort zone. I like to read books and do ordinary things.
So when I discover people who are trying to rehabilitate themselves from depression and anxiety by creating bucket lists, I secretly wish I had that kind of motivation. Maybe it's because I'm sitting here in my pajamas with my coffee growing cold, but I can't think of anything I want to achieve or challenge myself to do.
Someday I will die. I want my life to have meant something, just like everyone else. But unlike Randy Paush, I did not achieve my childhood dream (which was, since age six, to be a school teacher).
I did not become a writer of books. This blog is all I've got.
I live in a house with a yard in a beautiful city. But that is not my achievement. I help maintain it.
I wrote a patent application but somehow people don't consider my invention a real invention since it's not a technical thing ( love those self important folks who ask "what did you invent?")
On the other hand, I continue to give as much time, love and attention to my family as I can. I support them in their dreams and through their problems. I mostly continue to live my life as it naturally unfolds, through the passing of time and events. I try to handle problems with wisdom and common sense. I continually try to be practical and frugal. One of the most wild and unpractical things I've done was to go to hang gliding school and hike part of the AT. So maybe there's hope for me yet.
I guess it's time to think about what I really want my life to be about. What could I do to deepen my experience and appreciation for this daily kind of life? Perhaps this only happens when we get seriously ill and are near death. When we are limited physically, we fantasize about doing normal things like laundry. A few weeks before he died of cancer, my dad risked being seriously injured when he walked down to the basement with a basket of clothing.
Do you make lists of things you want to do, things that will expand your life? I'd love to know if you found it to be effective or self-defeating.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Baby Pictures
And grow right out of these little shoes?
Yet, he is the same little scientist he always was.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Traveling the World
I am a world traveler. For a glimpse of my trip to Europe, click here.
If you just returned from reading that vignette, then you'll understand that being anonymous in a foreign land is not entirely pleasurable for me. While I enjoy and appreciate the perspective, landscape, culture and people of various parts of the world, I rarely think about planning trips outside the US anymore. And this is a shame, because there are many places I would love to visit.
England is high on my list, given that I am somewhat of an Anglophile. This is a contradiction to the Native American in me, but I can't help it. I love all things English. I have a degree in English Literature. Studying the great works of that nation gave me great pleasure while challenging me to higher levels of thought. I love the rock music that comes from England. My new faith practice even comes from England, although the Quakers left their homeland to find religious freedom here. I love the images of its countryside and the people who live there.
Yet, here I am, plugging away at my desktop (not having a laptop or a capable phone that would allow me to travel outside these walls for coffee at Starbucks). I'm not searching the web for destination packages that would truly be a worthy way of spending the entire tax refund plus adding some debt. I'm being conservative, frugal, practical, and will get my travel fix by reading Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There. Which may lead to a real trip to Europe given that after reading his A Walk in the Woods I actually went out, bought expensive boots and hiked parts of the Appalachian Trail. While the famous author did not see a single bear, my husband and I enjoyed seventeen bear encounters within four days. This reminds me that passively reading about traveling and actually going somewhere is different.
As a passive reader, I've traveled to every continent. In the last six years, most of the books I choose to read for pleasure are travel memoirs. A psychologist would say that I have a subconscious desire to escape. Perhaps that's true. Don't all moms who work from home or stay at home have these desires? Perhaps the novelty of lovely North Carolina is fading. I want to be excited about living here, the way I was in the first few years of moving here from Michigan. It is lush and green and bursting with color in spring. This month, walking around here with be an optical buffet of color. First, the daffodils, then the redbuds. Next the pears, peaches and cherries. Then, my favorite, the dogwoods. Never in my life have I witnessed so many blooming trees. But I've never been to Hawaii, except by way of blogger. I would also love to visit the pacific northwest and see my friend Michelle.
But for now, it's time to be content with where I am. I know that there are certain philosophies that teach us how to have bliss by sitting in one place and breathing, being mindful of the blessings we enjoy on a regular basis.
But if I sit here too long, I'm afraid that I'll stop reaching and thinking about possibilities. I'm afraid to be complacent. I love to be contented and comfortable but lately, I'm craving a challenge.
If you just returned from reading that vignette, then you'll understand that being anonymous in a foreign land is not entirely pleasurable for me. While I enjoy and appreciate the perspective, landscape, culture and people of various parts of the world, I rarely think about planning trips outside the US anymore. And this is a shame, because there are many places I would love to visit.
England is high on my list, given that I am somewhat of an Anglophile. This is a contradiction to the Native American in me, but I can't help it. I love all things English. I have a degree in English Literature. Studying the great works of that nation gave me great pleasure while challenging me to higher levels of thought. I love the rock music that comes from England. My new faith practice even comes from England, although the Quakers left their homeland to find religious freedom here. I love the images of its countryside and the people who live there.
Yet, here I am, plugging away at my desktop (not having a laptop or a capable phone that would allow me to travel outside these walls for coffee at Starbucks). I'm not searching the web for destination packages that would truly be a worthy way of spending the entire tax refund plus adding some debt. I'm being conservative, frugal, practical, and will get my travel fix by reading Bill Bryson's Neither Here Nor There. Which may lead to a real trip to Europe given that after reading his A Walk in the Woods I actually went out, bought expensive boots and hiked parts of the Appalachian Trail. While the famous author did not see a single bear, my husband and I enjoyed seventeen bear encounters within four days. This reminds me that passively reading about traveling and actually going somewhere is different.
As a passive reader, I've traveled to every continent. In the last six years, most of the books I choose to read for pleasure are travel memoirs. A psychologist would say that I have a subconscious desire to escape. Perhaps that's true. Don't all moms who work from home or stay at home have these desires? Perhaps the novelty of lovely North Carolina is fading. I want to be excited about living here, the way I was in the first few years of moving here from Michigan. It is lush and green and bursting with color in spring. This month, walking around here with be an optical buffet of color. First, the daffodils, then the redbuds. Next the pears, peaches and cherries. Then, my favorite, the dogwoods. Never in my life have I witnessed so many blooming trees. But I've never been to Hawaii, except by way of blogger. I would also love to visit the pacific northwest and see my friend Michelle.
But for now, it's time to be content with where I am. I know that there are certain philosophies that teach us how to have bliss by sitting in one place and breathing, being mindful of the blessings we enjoy on a regular basis.
But if I sit here too long, I'm afraid that I'll stop reaching and thinking about possibilities. I'm afraid to be complacent. I love to be contented and comfortable but lately, I'm craving a challenge.
Friday, March 4, 2011
I Wanna Be A Dog
Knees and Paws took the stage with this wonderful performance of I Wanna Be A Dog. I think we have a new theme song! Thank you to babyprincessparis for sharing your daughter's outstanding and heartwarming performance. We love it!
A Special Thank You To Corinne
Dear Corinne,
Your review of Knees and Paws that appeared this morning on your awesome blog was incredibly supportive and positive. You could have made a straight list of pro's and con's, but you didn't. You could have photographed the items on the floor instead of on the children. You could have complained about any number of little issues that I need to improve upon. Criticism is something that is supposed to make us strive and perform at higher levels than we thought possible...
I took a risk in asking you for this review. I was nervous. But I was also thinking that this journey has to be based on reality and not my ego, which often lies.
So if, in several weeks, you decide to mention any drawbacks, I will appreciate those comments too.
Thank you for helping to support independent, hand made businesses. I value your commitment to this "revolution"...in which we turn away from mass produced items to consider things from home.
Many, many thanks for sharing Knees and Paws with your readers today. Even more thanks for the great comments and support you give here, on the blog. I appreciate our new friendship, a growing, blooming thing that delights me.
With Love,
Jenny
Your review of Knees and Paws that appeared this morning on your awesome blog was incredibly supportive and positive. You could have made a straight list of pro's and con's, but you didn't. You could have photographed the items on the floor instead of on the children. You could have complained about any number of little issues that I need to improve upon. Criticism is something that is supposed to make us strive and perform at higher levels than we thought possible...
I took a risk in asking you for this review. I was nervous. But I was also thinking that this journey has to be based on reality and not my ego, which often lies.
So if, in several weeks, you decide to mention any drawbacks, I will appreciate those comments too.
Thank you for helping to support independent, hand made businesses. I value your commitment to this "revolution"...in which we turn away from mass produced items to consider things from home.
Many, many thanks for sharing Knees and Paws with your readers today. Even more thanks for the great comments and support you give here, on the blog. I appreciate our new friendship, a growing, blooming thing that delights me.
With Love,
Jenny
Thursday, March 3, 2011
A Story about Love and Money
This is a story about love and money.
One day, a man sitting in his car looked out of his windshield and saw for the first time the woman he would marry. She was picking up trash in a parking lot, walking along the sidewalk with a blue plastic bucket. She wore a frayed white baseball cap, blue jean shorts, a tool apron and a stained t-shirt. She weighed 98 lbs, underweight but not frail.
He didn't know this, but she was a mom struggling to pay the bills for her then nine year old daughter. She was also blissfully happy to pick up trash. Every day when the sun warmed the cold dark morning, spreading gold through the trees, she would open up the little shop below the office, collect her bucket and proceed to take a quiet solitary walk under blooming dogwood trees.
While he sat behind the wheel of his aging blue Mustang, the man heard a voice in his head that said "there goes your wife." On hearing this very audible message, he shook his head. Thinking that was an odd event, he went on with his life for several weeks and forgot about the woman and the voice.
Meanwhile, the woman went on with her life just the same as it was for the last several months. She was enjoying being light and became used to little pangs of hunger that amplified the taste of everything she ate. Soon, a friend would suggest that she go downtown for food stamps and then things wouldn't be so hard. Soon, she would go back to college and finish her degree. Soon she would be in love, the kind of love that squashes every ambition a person could have unless it is to be rolled up together for days on end. Then, there would be a baby, a house, a totally new and beautiful life.
But at that moment, the woman and the man were not conscious of any of that. They were hungry, poor, and seeking...
Seeking meaning and not people. Both burned by divorce, they viewed relationships as complicating destructive forces. Even after two years of single life, they worked daily to remember the essence of who they were as individuals.
But inevitably, these two people wound up sharing phone calls, letters, and meals. They ate simple meals on cardboard boxes with tea lights set inside aluminum foil.
And let me just say that for both of them, these experiences were the richest, most incredibly beautiful times. They had nothing of value on the outside, but when all material wealth had been stripped away, the inner light of intelligent, articulate and philosophical conversations shone through. It was magic. And no amount of money could have bought such an experience. It was a time when the woman started to experience a spiritual awakening that opened the door to living a truly satisfying and expressive life.
To have less and to struggle is normally something that people try to avoid. In truth, the woman and the man continually seek to maintain the blessings that they now share. And when they see what they could reach for, they reach. But there is nothing wrong with not having things. In the absence of all the stuff and things we could have, or the dreams we never achieved, there exists something intangible and wholesome and satisfying. Today I'm going to remember this every time I find myself wishing for something else.
One day, a man sitting in his car looked out of his windshield and saw for the first time the woman he would marry. She was picking up trash in a parking lot, walking along the sidewalk with a blue plastic bucket. She wore a frayed white baseball cap, blue jean shorts, a tool apron and a stained t-shirt. She weighed 98 lbs, underweight but not frail.
He didn't know this, but she was a mom struggling to pay the bills for her then nine year old daughter. She was also blissfully happy to pick up trash. Every day when the sun warmed the cold dark morning, spreading gold through the trees, she would open up the little shop below the office, collect her bucket and proceed to take a quiet solitary walk under blooming dogwood trees.
While he sat behind the wheel of his aging blue Mustang, the man heard a voice in his head that said "there goes your wife." On hearing this very audible message, he shook his head. Thinking that was an odd event, he went on with his life for several weeks and forgot about the woman and the voice.
Meanwhile, the woman went on with her life just the same as it was for the last several months. She was enjoying being light and became used to little pangs of hunger that amplified the taste of everything she ate. Soon, a friend would suggest that she go downtown for food stamps and then things wouldn't be so hard. Soon, she would go back to college and finish her degree. Soon she would be in love, the kind of love that squashes every ambition a person could have unless it is to be rolled up together for days on end. Then, there would be a baby, a house, a totally new and beautiful life.
But at that moment, the woman and the man were not conscious of any of that. They were hungry, poor, and seeking...
Seeking meaning and not people. Both burned by divorce, they viewed relationships as complicating destructive forces. Even after two years of single life, they worked daily to remember the essence of who they were as individuals.
But inevitably, these two people wound up sharing phone calls, letters, and meals. They ate simple meals on cardboard boxes with tea lights set inside aluminum foil.
And let me just say that for both of them, these experiences were the richest, most incredibly beautiful times. They had nothing of value on the outside, but when all material wealth had been stripped away, the inner light of intelligent, articulate and philosophical conversations shone through. It was magic. And no amount of money could have bought such an experience. It was a time when the woman started to experience a spiritual awakening that opened the door to living a truly satisfying and expressive life.
To have less and to struggle is normally something that people try to avoid. In truth, the woman and the man continually seek to maintain the blessings that they now share. And when they see what they could reach for, they reach. But there is nothing wrong with not having things. In the absence of all the stuff and things we could have, or the dreams we never achieved, there exists something intangible and wholesome and satisfying. Today I'm going to remember this every time I find myself wishing for something else.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Playing with Paint
I found a new creative outlet.
The Paint program on my computer has given me joy this past week. During my first year in business I wanted so much to have graphics that showed what Knees and Paws are. I was not able to really capture this in photographs of my models. I sat here wishing for a solution to this problem, not realizing that every day I had what I needed to make this a reality. Thank goodness I decided to "play" as a way to problem solve. I know, I'm a little slow. But it was worth the wait. The day that I made this graphic, I plugged my headphones in and listened to my favorite songs by Rob Thomas and Edwin McCain. The feeling of making visual art is an incredible anti-depressant. I knew this already but I did not know that creating designs on the screen had the same effect as drawing and painting on paper.
 |
| Sylvie from Jewett's A White Heron |
I found comfort during illness this winter by painting a scene from my favorite short story, A White Heron by Sarah Orne Jewett. I've often thought about writing an adaptation of this story for children as a picture book. Now that I've spoken that secret desire, I'm sure that a very talented writer and illustrator is somewhere working on it. The story is so beautiful that I read it aloud to Elliot during our Big Back Yard Bird Count lessons. He was amazed to learn that Orinthologists used to shoot and kill birds in order to study them.
If you've never read this classic American short story, I highly recommend it. There's something magical in Jewett's way of capturing rural New England and the heart of a child who cannot be bought; a child who is so much a part of the natural world that she cannot be persuaded to reveal its secrets.
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