Intentional Living

The more I live in an information saturated world, the more I long for the simpler, quieter days of yesteryear.  Yes, information is empowering, and the importance to know the truth is life-saving, but it can be quite overwhelming.  The world seems to be spinning faster, and all forms of media and social media seem to be telling me what I should be doing.

I feel as though the world around me is scrambling.  Scrambling, like a mischief of mice, for this, that, and everything else.  What ever happened to just living in the moment?  Living for today?  I'm not talking about being ignorant in the ways of financial savings, or being devoid of work or personal goals. 

Does anyone ever have a casual conversation?  One that is non-political or judgmental of any....thing, person, political group, religion, or lifestyle? 

Is anyone doing anything that 'everyone' else is not doing?  I find myself attracted to the mundane - diy (do-it-yourself) projects, cooking recipes, my new interests in homemaking skills such as sewing and knitting.  I want the days of old where the most shocking revelation of my day is that the price of bread has gone up (again).  I want to drink tea out of my vintage teacup and listen to the excited chatter of the birds outside.

I want the satisfying feeling of knowing that we have all that we need and enjoy the humble lifestyle we have been blessed with without society trying to convince me that my car isn't fancy enough, my complexion isn't youthful enough, my house isn't big enough, and we need to spend our hard earned money on a vacation that "everyone" else is taking.

I want to remember what it's like to not be able to watch television after midnight.  To have to go to the store or run errands without anyone being able to call me on my cell phone.  To have to use a paper map to find an unfamiliar location.  To feel accomplished and grateful for my clean clothes that are dried by the warm sun and a gentle breeze.  To be thankful for a well-stocked pantry that gives me a good meal, even though it may not rival one from Olive Garden or a fancy restaurant.

I want things to go a bit slower.  I want everyone to take a deep breath.  I want everyone to be kind - not because it's trendy or because a quote from Pinterest tells us to.  I want manners to come back into fashion.  I want parents to not only teach manners to their children, but to model it for them, as well.

Thankfulness, gratefulness, and kindness.  All can be possessed, but unless exercised, all can be lost.  They may not be trendy, fashionable, or popular, but all are a necessity, no matter how fast-paced our lives are.  I want to, no I need to, slow my steps, breathe, and mindfully make these things a priority in my life.  Again.

Do We Even Know What Thankfulness Means?

Today is Thanksgiving, and I'm sure that by this time of the day turkey has been carefully roasted, potatoes have been boiled and mashed, green beans have been transformed into a 'casserole', and pies aplenty have been baked to perfection and all consumed.

But, are we really thankful?  Are we thankful everyday, like we say we are, or do we just store it up for today - for a day off (for most), for a time of travel, for paltry pleasantries, for forced 'traditions', and family reunions?

Are any of us really acknowledging the help the Native Americans offered to the Pilgrims, without which the outcome of this country right now may be very different?  Do we recognize that, right now, Native Americans are doing what most of claim WE WOULD DO, which is exercise our rights as American citizens?  Be brave enough to protest peacefully?  To stand up to Goliath, so to speak?  Did you get hosed by freezing water today?  Did you have clean water to bathe in today, to drink with your massive meal?

We all love the heartwarming story of the woman who accidentally invited a total stranger to dinner, thinking she had texted her grandson.  How many of you would invite a total stranger, no matter their color, sexual orientation, political beliefs, physical appearance, health, income status or religious beliefs (or lack thereof)?

Do you put your money where your mouth is?  Do know what organizations you support and why?  Are you willing to help, really help, those less fortunate than you or do you just view people who are having hardships as scum and freeloaders?  Really - what does your heart say?  Do you walk the walk or just talk the talk.  Are you all talk and no action?  Do you post Facebook statuses claiming to "Always choose to be kind" but know that you don't?  Are you rude to others in public because you're an entitled customer and 'are always right'?

Christ - the head of this house - The unseen host at every meal, The silent listener at every conversation.

I feel that thankfulness is to be acknowledged 12 months, 365 days, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day  in ACTION.  When you realize that you really have nothing to complain about, when ALL of your needs are met, when you have a roof over your head, food to eat every day, are in good health, are warm when it's cold and dry when it's wet - it's time to look outside of yourself and around to the needs of others.

Help someone.  Use your manners.  Feed someone.  Make a donation of money and/or time to a worthy organization.  Be patient with others.  Smile at someone, dammit!  Try having perspective - attempt to understand the struggles of others.  Be empathetic.  DO SOMETHING.

 Make being thankful a verb.  And do it.

Glorious Autumn And Its Inspiration

Autumn is my number two favorite season.  Number one is Winter, but we'll talk about that another time.  Autumn is THE season of change.  Almost everything around us changes (well, depending upon where you live).  I'm a New Englander, so here, the climate changes.  We go from humid, balmy, hot temperatures to cool, chilly, clear temperatures, where everyday becomes a good hair day.  The sky seems to be a brighter, deeper blue.  The breezes kick up to help all of those beautifully changing leaves detach from the fingers of the tree branches.

And the leaves.  Green to red to orange to yellow to brown and never all at once!  Drifting and swirling down from the heights of the tree tops, making you feel as though you are in a confetti storm.  Leaves.  Crunching, skittering, dancing across the pavements and being caught in mini-wind tunnels.  The smell of the leaves.  You find yourself walking to the outside and just breathing deep.  Ahhh!  These leaves, dropping and dancing downward draw us out of our dwellings with rakes in hand to play.  Raking mounds and mounds of leaves to be danced upon and dived into (watch out for twigs, though!).  But, please, no leaf blowers!!  And then we notice them.  We find little crimson ones.  Long yellow and orange ones.  And massive brown ones of oak and maple.

The air.  The air smells sweeter.  It's clearer because the humidity has left us (especially if you live near the ocean).  It's cooler.  At night, you gradually add a blanket as the temps begin to drop.  You sleep better.  I know I love waking up to a cold room, where your shoulders are cold but the rest of you is warm and cozy under a much loved quilt or comforter.  You can smell the smoke from wood burning stoves and fireplaces.  There's a little bit of frost on the tips of the blades of grass in the mornings, or on your car's windshield.  You find yourself stuffing your gloves in your jacket pockets and checking on your stock of knit hats.

The wildlife.  I love seeing huge flocks of black birds, grackle, cowbirds, and starlings descend upon the dogwood trees, burning bushes, and bittersweet vines to gobble up all of the bright berries they can find.  I can hear the rustling near small leaf piles where birds are scratching with their feet, getting at the grubs, slugs, and worms that are nestling under them.  Goldfinches always come to my perennial garden to feast upon the purple cone flower seeds that I've left for them.  Squirrels and chipmunks are extremely focused and determined to collect as many nuts, seeds, and berries that they can find to store up for winter.  We hear the honking of the geese as they, in perfect formation, begin their journey south.

Us.  Our clothing (again, depending upon where you live) changes.  We are wearing longer pants and long sleeved shirts.  Sweat shirts.  Pajamas.  Flannel!  Socks find their way back onto our feet, as do regular shoes.  Most people (excepting my daughter-in-law) pack away the flip flops.  We say so long to the summer salads.  We begin to crave the mac 'n cheese, roast beef dinners, chilis, roasted turkeys, and ham dinners.  We haul out the crock pots and begin baking the pies and cobblers.  We swap the cold cereal for flavored oatmeal and french toast.  Maple syrup on everything? Yes, please! And the pumpkin everything - you know who you are.

All of these pretty drastic changes.  And we accept them.  We have to.  No choice.  No alternative (except to move).  I find it refreshing.  As a matter of fact, I find it inspirational.  If all of practically everything around me can change.....why can't I?  Why can't I try something new?  Why can't I speak up when I've been silent for, um, always?  Why can't I be the person on the outside that I've known all along is living on the inside?
Why should I apologize for being myself?  Why can't I say 'No'?  I've outgrown the mold that others have encased me in.  It's broken.  I'm not broken.  The perception of me is broken.  Because it's changing.  All of me.  Those of you who know me, calm down, I'm not 'coming out' to anything (because I know that's what this kind of sounds like, but, no).  I think I've just finally hit my stride.

I'm me.  I love me.  My husband loves me.  My kids love me.  My grandson adores me.  I have finally accepted the confirmation of who I am in this world.  Just as nature around me sheds and shakes and swirls and inspires, that's what I will embrace, also.  I want to shed, shake, swirl, and inspire.  I want to leave pretty patterns in the frost.  I want my imprint to be colorful, cozy, and comforting.  I want those who love me and care about me to look and me and smile, the way I smile at the birds, leaves, squirrels, and casserole dish full of mac 'n cheese.

And I hope that others will appreciate and be inspired, somehow, by
the glory of changes in themselves, if not clearly visible in the glorious nature around them.

Slowness of a Sunday

I was talking with someone the other day about how Sundays used to be.  There was a time, really not very long ago, where it was unusual for retail stores, liquor stores, or sporting activities were in operation on Sundays.  Time on Sundays was reserved for church and/or family.  It was a day to chill.  Relax. Catch up.  Visit.  Reflect.  Plan.  Rest.  Read.  Commune with others.

We live in an age now where everyone needs a leg up over someone else.  Whether it be in making money, over-scheduling our children's activities, or running around gathering items to make ourselves feel better and keep up with our neighbors and colleagues.  Even in how we spend our time - "What are you doing this weekend?"  Uh, oh - it's going to sound lame when I say, "Nothing"!  We have social media that makes our lives look more exciting and interesting than they really are (except my social media - check it out).  We complain that we need one more day in our week.  No we don't.  We need to take our Sundays back.

Yesterday was a gloomy, rainy Sunday.  I had plenty of chores that needed to be accomplished.  There was housework to do, photographs of stock for the store needed to be taken, end of summer yard work still needs to be done......yet, I chose to do nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  And I loved it.  My husband, who is constantly busy working on something, whether it's actually work or household related, took part of the day to join me in doing nothing.  We just watched TV and talked.  We enjoyed each others company.  It was wonderful.

We need Sundays to stay connected with our families.  We need Sundays to rest from all of the hard work we put into the other six days.  We need Sundays to feed our spirits with prayer, meditation, and activities that bring us joy.  We need Sundays to do what we want, instead of what other people think we should be doing.  We are not in a race.  We don't have competitors.  But, if we don't return to enjoying the slowness of Sundays, we may all end up to be losers.

Simple Does Not Equal Stupid

A few years ago, while chatting with my husband, I made the remark that we were 'simple folk'.  At first he was offended.  You see, he was taking the meaning of 'simple' to mean 'stupid'.  I began to explain that I was referring to our lifestyle, our approach to how we live and the values we live by. We were talking about how we don't have a lot of 'extra':  our house is little (under 1500 sq. ft. and I really don't want to clean more than one bathroom); our cars are modest (we didn't purchase a brand new vehicle until we were married for 20 years); I prefer to shop at thrift stores for clothing for myself ($40 for a top and jeans for $100 are you kidding me?!); we never go out to eat (I cannot, in all good consciousness, pay $20 for a pasta dish when I can cook a whole box for less than $1 at home and eat it in my comfy clothes);  and I really don't feel like I'm missing out on anything.

I personally feel that as long as we have all that we need, we're blessed.  Sure, there are things that we want, but will those wants add value to our life?  I've always said that if we're warm when it's cold, dry when it's wet, and fed when we're hungry, we're doing pretty darn good.  We have worked so hard over the past 30 years, that I don't want that hard work to be represented in things.  I don't give a flip if the Jones' have more than us.  I don't care if we're not fashionable or that if you drive by our house and blink you'll probably miss it.  I. don't. care.  What I do care about is that we spend quality time together - being together at the end of our day - talking, checking in, enjoying each others company.  I don't want to have to babysit a bunch of expensive things that will just make us look good in the eyes of people who don't even know us or care about us.  What I care about is falling asleep every night knowing that our house is OURS because we worked really hard to pay off the mortgage and that my car is MINE because we paid off the loan early and we don't owe anyone anything.

I would rather have an emergency fund than a vacation.  Been there done that.  We went through a horrendous year 18 years ago when one summer:  our roof and septic both failed on the same day, and weeks later our daughter suffered a life-threatening illness (and we did not have health insurance).  That was a really hard and humbling lesson in finances.  But, we got through it, learned from it, and took measures to make sure something like that won't happen again.

I believe that to live 'simply' is a huge lesson in patience.  Because you have to wait. You can't buy it if you cannot afford it - because that wouldn't be smart and just doesn't make sense.  (I thought about putting the word 'shouldn't' in that sentence, but if you don't have the money for it - you really 'can't' buy it!)  Do you want something just because you think you need a 'new' one?  Research an item that you're thinking of purchasing. Consider thrift stores and consignment shops.  So many wonderful things are found there because really good, quality products don't go out of style and they oftentimes exceed the products that are manufactured today.

Living simply takes intelligence, patience, gratitude, humility and hard work.  I know, you can be grateful for your great big house(s), or your car that you paid more than the value of my house for, but are those really smart choices? Personally, I don't think so.  I don't begrudge anyone who has those things.  I just know that I would not feel comfortable having too much.

I don't require more than I need.  And I'm pretty happy with that.