love – Page 2 – BethSings

Start Your Engines

If Autumn is the best season then November is the pinnacle. Colors change, days get cooler, holidays.

The week of Thanksgiving I enter my fifty-fifth year. Maybe because my mother died young, I see the importance of celebrating birthdays….friends and family….mine, I enjoy celebrating quietly. Aging has turned into something far different than what I thought I saw my parents and grandparents doing when I was younger. Fifty-five always sounded like a speed limit.

The best piece of advice I was ever given about growing old came from a friend, Louise about fifteen years ago. ‘Become a crone,’ she said. ‘Not the withered old hag in fairy tales but the deeper meaning. An archetypal figure, a wise woman.’ That sounded interesting. Those kind of women I’ve known my entire life: my grandmothers, the neighborhood ‘mothers’ growing up, and of course, my mother. They all lived life with style and grace.

In our family, I was surely loved but never a princess. A strong-willed child with thankfully stronger-willed parents. Difficult adult choices were made less so because of the lessons they taught me.

After a car accident two months ago, my thoughts of were filled gratitude. Every day is gift. These were certainly thoughts that were familiar at significant life moments: births, deaths, graduations, moving. The wreck just gave me food for thought. Carpe diem. Seize everything with love…and seize carefully.

Traveling at fifty-five I see the treasures of family and friends, some have been companions on the journey for 25, 30…even 50 years. There have been lapses in some relationships. There may be miles between some of us. I’ve learned that miles and time aren’t a measure for family and friends…and certainly doesn’t diminish my love for them.

“They say there’s a heaven for those who will wait…..”

A nice sunrise. A lovely sunset. Friends and family to share life. Thanksgiving. Billy Joel could’ve been right about us Catholic girls. Fifty-five. Start your engines.

Simple Gifts

Beware the barrenness of a busy life. ~ Socrates

Three weeks ‘on the go’. Fun-filled adventures.

In the time I’ve missed the quiet, the camera click, waiting for a sunset, resting in ‘the moment’, simple moments with friends and family. Autumn reminds of me that. A homecoming of sorts. Time to settle in and nest. During the summer I made hard choices about future projects. The autumn ran away with those choices like a race horse. I allowed it.

Last weekend I traveled to my hometown for the first time since July. It’s good to touch base with those people who share collective memories, love you no matter what. Driving back, my thoughts drifted to the idea of unconditional love…. my parents, family, dear friends, my children.

I can only hope that I’ve been as generous and accepting with those special people in my life….my family, friends and students. . . and beyond.

The road leads us many ways in a busy life…some days the path is straight, some days…not so much….the gift is finding the simple way and loving through it.

Strike

It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.

C.S. Lewis

Character building. Strike.

The last month was lovely, spending time with family, friends…in person or via technology.Work had been rewarding and productive. Life was content and settled. There had been moments for gratitude.

The production of As You Like It went well—those young actors worked hard and were some of the most professional and dedicated people I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Strike. After the final performance everyone takes part in tearing down the set, a community they’ve built together for weeks. It’s called strike. . . so we can load-in the next play. Life in the theatre is always moving forward.

Strike.

Opening Night, driving home from the theatre….early evening….it is abridged Shakespeare after all…I was in the first significant auto accident of my life. Rear-ended by another car who was driving at a high rate of speed. Rattled. Shaken. Strike.

So very grateful…that although there were minor injuries, people walked away….grateful for the love and support of family and friends far and near. After following doctors orders to rest, it was good to be back teaching the latter part of this week…to sing….. It’s easy to take people and a mundane thing like going to work for granted.

Strike.

Kindness of strangers: the “witnesses” who stayed with me. James, the salesman at the car dealership. The reality of everything set in while in his office. He reminded me how lucky I was. He and my son had me laughing…..I like to laugh. I chucked about transforming experiences from the past. No situation in life….good, bad or indifferent is permanent. Take-away….find a solution and strike. Move forward…..

I like that egg in the C. S. Lewis story.

Strike.

An ordinary egg . . .making a choice…to either hatch or go bad….

Me….I’m choosing to hatch….

Strike! Move on……with gratitude…..

High Cotton

My family, friends and students know my fondness for sayings. Previous generations lived by them. Like the fine art of conversation, some of that has been lost.

One of my favorites: “How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time….”

Those words have seen me through many a predicament. Raising children. Teaching. Divorce. Death. Life. Good days and not….on life’s journey patience is necessary. Elephants are a part of the adventure, certainly temporary. . . Stay in the moment. Savor it. Or not. Either way, take it easy.

Last week was an elephant of a week. Like too many of us, my life was running me not me running my life? I had made the choices, certainly but there was little time for stars, moons, sunsets and clouds…..family or friends….

At Monday evening’s rehearsal I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. We were rehearsing for the evening Downtown in a lovely old building….a renovated fire station. Downtown is my favorite part of Baton Rouge. It’s lovely, especially at sunset. I was hoping to catch the Harvest Moon but it was too early….too early even for sunset….but the clouds were just right…. Cotton balls in the sky….

I nibbled a bit on that elephant, remembered just how blessed I am and went about the business of living.

The week slipped away. ‘TimeHop’ jogged memories of engagements, openings, friends relocating and of course 9/11. Memories. We live in days but remember moments.

Thursday afternoon I came home from teaching and found a package from my friend Leslie waiting……a cookbook from home….centering me…..on those little bites…..and just how blessed I am….with family, friends…a good life. . .High Cotton.

Breathing. Small bites. . . That elephant can be challenging dance partner on some days. . . but thankfully I am dancing…and in high cotton and never alone.

Look around…take nibble…dance…bet you’re in high cotton too.

Coq au Vin with Julia and others

Sundays. I have always loved the rhythm of Sundays. Quiet peace. They were special growing up. I tried to make them that way for my children.

My mother cooked Sunday dinner or in summer we’d visit my grandparents. Nurturing through food. It’s part of why I like to cook. Cooking is not a chore but a creative art. The smells remind me of home. Monroe and my children. Happy memories. I process when I cook. Yes the past is a part of that but planning for the future. Relaxation especially on a rainy day like today. There was always music playing in mother’s kitchen….I follow suit.

I started cooking for myself a few years back once the kids left and enjoyed it. . . but I stopped. It seemed indulgent. It didn’t occur to me that I could still do that for myself until a few weeks ago visiting my daughter in Boston. . . so last Sunday and today….I pulled out cookbooks, music and cooked. Foods I enjoy preparing, will last the week. Rediscovering this joy has centered my life….just like photography has. And certainly saved money and calories….

Thanks Julia Child for this advice. In life and the kitchen. The only real stumbling block is fear of failure. In cooking you’ve got to have a what-the-hell attitude.

Today’s endeavor: Coq au vin. One of the first fancy dishes I ever prepared. I remember cooking it from my mother’s Julia Child cookbook. This one is from a special cookbook sent by my best friend since kindergarten. As I cook I thought about life’s relationships. Then I thought how friendships are built through theater….some are temporary, just for the run of the show…or a few shows…. some are for the long haul. Just like the ingredients in the coq au vin, these relationships are all crucial to the outcome of the dish. I’m that coq au vin….. . . how lucky and grateful I am to have so many and varied ingredients in my life… near and far…

Cooking is all about patience, creativity and staying positive! Thank heaven I’ve had that in my life….and that life still tastes really good at this age!

Priceless

August has slipped through my fingers like quicksilver.

Summer’s blooms fade into the rhythm of schedules and commitments as I find reminders of the sweet carefree days, a lovely summer —- varied, calm….calling me to change.

A few more days before packing away white shoes and linen.

Certainly, August is always busy with school starting. The last few weeks I had an opportunity to act in a new play. It was nice remembering that kind of trust. . . in myself and others. Humility. Vulnerable. It’s good to tap those.

Last week I was out of town. Serendipity. Craft services—cooking while my daughter directed her Thesis film. The quiet while I was preparing the meals was good for the soul. The camaraderie during meals and on set was good for the heart. I returned home tired but replenished….and very proud. Certainly seeing my daughter’s artistic vision come to reality was cause for pride. . . but greater still is knowing the kind of people she and my son have become.

Priceless. The word I use to describe the time I spent. The weather was cool and crisp. I cooked all my favorites: gumbo, jambalaya, red beans and rice….meals I’ve made for decades and prepare well. Cuisine taught to me by my mother and grandmother. Outside the kitchen door there was a beautiful vine with grapes. Scenic. I realized when I got to the airport Sunday that those grapes are like many things along life’s journey, something saved in a memory bank and not on a photograph. It’s almost better that way.

This is an excerpt of something I found in my inbox Monday morning…from Ron Rolheiser: “We need more and more to trust love and surrender, to let go of ourselves, especially of our pride, our wounds, our hurts, our mistakes, our past, and our weaknesses, to give ourselves over to forgiveness……Morris West said that at a certain age, it should come down to one word: “Thanks!” He’s right, but to say that one word and mean it we need three other words: “Forgiveness, forgiveness, forgiveness!”

Just like the rest of August, it had perfect timing….was priceless.

The One Thing

Wednesday night was filled with excitement. Bittersweet.

Goodbye summer. Hello new school year.

To relax, I went swimming Wednesday night with some girlfriends. Over the course of the summer we’ve seen Canadian geese and owls. Wednesday night there was a rainbow…..and bats. I scampered out of the pool to capture the shot but the moment was gone. Life’s like that sometimes. Special moments flash before our eyes in an instant. We think we’ll have all the time in the world to ‘roll around in them’. . .but before we know it…they’re gone. POOF! No warning.

Thursday. The first day of school. I’ve been blessed to serve…yes, SERVE…as a music and drama specialist for many years at a phenomenal school. A place that is ‘home’ for students and faculty alike. Thursday was particularly good. On those particularly good days…. there’s gratitude for my parents, family and friends.

At the end of the day, the house was quiet. It was welcome on such a busy day. I let it wash over me, thinking of the people I would’ve/could’ve called but stayed in the quiet. Not long after I sat on the sofa an UPS truck pulled up bringing with him a reminder of my forever home and family.

The ‘rules’ of life can be VERY sticky. I’ve made them that way and didn’t see the thorns.

One of my favorite teachers used to say: “Excuses are like armpits, they all stink.” Over the last few years I’ve been grateful to have the opportunity to change the rules, reacquaint with old friends. The friendships were waiting. Frozen in time, then moved forward.

Maybe I needed to get to this age to find THE ONE rule. LOVE!

With apologies to St. Paul.

Who can

separate us from love? Tribulation, distress, famine, war….death or life…things of the past, present things or things to come…..none of these things can separate us…..

The ONE THING. For this I am grateful.