Update

Good news, everyone--No philosophical musings in this post; just an update on things on this end. We took possession of the house on Saturday, a day early. We walked through it that afternoon and let Mowgli and Boo pick out their rooms. They are so ready to have their own rooms again and doors they can close, they can hardly stand it!

Sunday, I went to evening services and C came over to sit by me. I leaned over and said, "How was deacon's meeting?" and he said, "Really, really great." That felt like a small miracle!

This week, I'm focusing on painting, cleaning, buying all the miscellaneous stuff you have to buy for a new house (ie., our kitchen trash can doesn't fit under the sink here), even buying some really fun stuff (like a new TV!)

Saturday is moving day and I think almost all of the church will be on hand for the move, either bringing food or helping to move or driving the trucks or just coming out of curiosity. It's wonderful to have so much help.

So . . . that's the latest here. What's new with you?

Wednesday night I was standing in the hallway at church, waiting for Boo to get out of the youth group. I noticed another woman also waiting. She was shabbily dressed and disheveled and her front teeth were missing. I started to make small talk, asking if she was also waiting for a teenager.

She said no, that she was waiting for the teacher, who is also the deacon in charge of benevolence. Then she started sharing a hard-luck story that matched her appearance--jobs lost, government benefits delayed, health problems, and so on. You know, I immediately recognized the feelings that bubble up when I find myself in that situation--sympathetic but also from an uncomfortable emotional distance.

I had been asking God lately to enlarge my heart, to expand my capacity for love, and so I began to quietly pray and sure enough, my anxiety subsided and I listened to her story with more empathy, making all the right sympathetic noises and offering the occasional helpful response. Her story was not even a creative variation on the sad stories we hear over and over, but she was very nice, engaged, interesting. We chatted for about twenty minutes until the youth meeting let out.

That night, as I was going to sleep, I thanked the Lord for helping me to respond more lovingly to her, when a deep spiritual awareness brought me up short: love, or at least the beginnings of love, would have asked her about her family or what she enjoyed doing or how long she had been a church member or whatever questions I ask other people--less pitiful people--when I'm trying to make a connection or begin a friendship. Why didn't I do that with this woman? I was so disappointed when I realized that even though I am intentionally creating friendships right now, I never even for one moment thought of this woman as a potential friend or peer. That made me really sad.

Beautiful people

I'm sitting in the shade at the apartment complex pool. I'm trying to be completely invisible (as required for the parents of teenaged girls) while still keeping an eye on Boo and her 4 new friends from church who have come over to swim. I've looked up from my book (Take This Bread by Sara Miles, if you were wondering) to find that real life is more interesting.

In addition to Boo and her friends, young twentysomethings are gathering around the pool, koozies and bags of charcoal in hand. At first, it's the guys--all shirtless, all goodlooking in an athletic way (if you like that sort of thing), all mind-numbingly young. It's funny--they gulp their beers and then burp loud and long, but you can still tell that they know that they are the beautiful people. Then the girls start to arrive--all lovely in their see-through coverups and their long hair and long legs and they are tan, tan, tan. I know for a fact that when we were that young, we were not that beautiful.

As they play volleyball and ready the grill and greet each other, "hug-hug" with cigarette held at arm's length, I'm only mildly envious of their good looks, their youth, their casual coolness. Because it's also very evident to my middle-aged, experienced eye that they are painfully self-conscious, completely aware that their very emotional survival depends on how beautiful they are and how cool they appear. I vaguely remember when the stakes were that high and don't miss it at all.

Then, another middle aged mom comes into view with two tiny girls holding her hands, carrying floaties, one blond with creamy skin and the other with eyes, hair and skin the color of cinnamon. My first thought is, "There's a story there . . . " and my second thought follows it immediately: This is one brave lady. Because the mom (or maybe grandma) probably weighs more than 350 lbs and is wearing a swimsuit, ready to get in the water with her girls. To get to the pool, she has to walk past the grill and the volleyball area and all the recliners full of beautiful girls getting beautiful tans. And she does. Today, she's my hero.

Homeowners again

We are homeowners again! Although we closed on the house yesterday, the sellers won't move out until Saturday sometime, so we're still in the apartment, but still . . . we have a house! I'll have a week to paint, clean, obsess, etc. until June 16, when we will actually move. Then, serious "nesting" will begin! I'll try to post photos when I learn how to do that.

I have to admit--the comment about obsessing isn't a joke. I'm completely overtaken by thoughts about the house and anytime I'm not thinking about something else, that's what I'm thinking about. As KC has observed, "place" seems to be very important to me.

But even while I'm obsessed with "nesting," other stirrings seem to be returning. I had lunch yesterday with two of our staff at MBC and they were talking about mental health issues and the need for good therapists and the impact of such people on their own lives and I could feel the old enthusiasm bubbling up, feeling ready to get back in the game, even if it is a new game in a new city. I didn't expect to feel that so soon, so there was reassurance there.

In the meantime, though, I'm more interested in paint colors and furniture placement!

Changes to the blog

I realized that some of you could not comment on this blog because you are not members of blogger. I've changed the settings so that anyone can now comment. I hope you will--makes it more interactive and therefore more fun.

Look what I found . . .

This was quoted in the book I'm reading . . . ran across it today. It speaks profoundly to yesterday's post:



Once the realization is accepted
That even between the closest human beings
Infinite distances continue to exist
A wonderful living side by side can grow up
If they succeed in loving the distance between them
Which makes it possible for each to see the other
Whole and against a wide sky.

---Rainer Maria Rilke



(BTW, the book is How Your Church Family Works: Understanding Congregations as Emotional Systems by Peter Steinke)

Going from "me" to "we"

Since he got back, C has told me in frustration, "No matter what I do, I feel like I'm cramping your style." At one point, Mowgli said, "Both of you need to relax a little." (It's funny--we almost never fight, rarely argue, but both our kids are very tuned in to our relationship. Fortunately, they don't seem to be anxious about it, but the fact that they notice it at all is interesting.)

Anyway, C is right. "Re-entry" after we have been separated is always hard for me--much harder than it is for him. I always think it's not going to be. I'm thinking about him, missing him so much, wishing we were together . . . and then we are, and I get irritable and a little distant.

I know that it's part of those pesky emotional processes Bowen describes--the togetherness forces trying to balance closeness and autonomy. Trying to shift from "me" to "we" after a separation feels like learning to drive a stick: awkward and jarring. We're going out to dinner tomorrow night and if past experience is any predictor, everything should be better after.