solo road trip

I took a solo road trip to Goshen, Indiana for some meetings last week. As I drove, it struck me that I have never driven 7 hours ever by myself. The most I've driven solo was about 4.5 hours. All other road trips have been with my family growing up, my family now, my husband, friends, work colleagues, etc. Never just me. And I wasn't looking forward to the trip.

Admittedly, I have sunk to some embarrassing lows in terms of some learned helplessness that I've developed around traveling since kids have come along. It's like my brain can only handle so much - and these are the things I've become self-proclaimed "captain of": packing for everyone, snacks, entertainment, managing emotions, leading sing-alongs, driving when need be. Derek is captain of gas (both types), paying for things, passports, navigating, driving, and pointing out things along the road that nobody in a carseat can see.

What happened to the 19 year old me who led a group of 16 15-year olds on a 10 day canoe trip through Algonquin park (sans cell phone)? Where was the 21 year old me who breezed through Indian customs in Calcutta, my only casualty in 7 months of traveling my stolen Birkenstock shoes? Or the 25 year old who led a group of grade 12s on a month long trip in China?

I needed to summon these earlier versions of myself.

And I'm glad I did - it was a great trip, both there and back. Kind of a little silent-ish retreat. If you have the chance to do a 7 hour solo road trip, seize it. You can sing and slap your knees as loud as you like. You can stop at outlet malls for as long as you like. You don't have to wait for anybody but yourself to go to the bathroom. There is no one to gasp when you have to brake quickly, and no one but Mr. GPS to show you the way.

Because I was by myself, I had lots of time to think. And observe. I had time to take in the changing leaves of fall, and the bald eagle sitting regally about 30 feet from the road. Here are a few of my additional trip observations/tips:

• If you happen to go to a place called "Bubba's" for supper, stick with the quesadillas and pass on their specialty, "dopey dough" which comes with a side of Velveeta cheese for dipping.
• Order one salad at Panera Bread, but then change your mind at the last minute and order a different one. Hopefully, the cashier will record the 1st one, but at the pickup counter they'll insist on giving you both salads for the price of one.
• Go to the bathroom at a gas station BEFORE the border crossing so that you don't spend 45 minutes in crawling, stop and go traffic wondering if you have a container big enough or whether you should just say "those people will most likely never see me again" and go beside the car. This can all be avoided. 
• Why, oh why, North American women, do you wear your yoga pants and sweats out on the town? Have going to restaurants and shopping at malls become so commonplace? Growing up, I lived on a farm in the country. We would go into "town" a couple of times a week for groceries and such. My town friend always joked that we sounded like we lived on Little House on the Prairie. But town was always an occasion to get out of "home clothes" and look presentable. Where has presentable gone, ladies? Sure, I like to dress casually, but do we need to look like we're ready to break out into a workout or yoga pose at any minute? [end of rant.]
• Outlet malls no longer hold the thrill that they held for me in the 1980s. At that time, it made me almost giddy to go to our yearly high school cross-country meet in Rochester, New York. This trip always meant a stop at the North Tonawanda Outlet Malls. I was the only grade 9 on the team that year, and I eagerly followed my older and wiser teammates around the mall, loading up on reddish-brown Bass penny loafers, a forest green Ralph Lauren polo shirt, and bright yellow and dark pink pants from Benetton. I was truly in heaven. And the prices! Oh my. Now... well, I found some Christmas pjs for my daughters, and that was about as exciting as it was. I actually got bored and got back in the car. The appeal of more time to myself was more than the appeal of consuming. Amazing.

playtime

A friend sent me some links to wonderful videos about playing to your strengths last week. There is a lot of great stuff to chew on; I highly recommend that you sit down and watch them sometime. I'll post them here:

I love how Marcus Buckingham (the guy in the videos) defines strengths (things that make us feel strong and magnificent) and how he defines hobbies (things for which we have a huge appetite but little ability).

This made me think about my own hobbies. In the past, when I would list my hobbies in the "interest" section of my resume, they looked something like this:

• reading
• writing
• playing piano
• languages
• gardening
• camping

Kind of dull, eh? They were either things I'm already good at, or interests of mine that I'm semi-good at already. Or things where there's not really a scale of good or bad, gifted or struggling, for them. Like "I'm an amazing camper - I'm probably the best camper in my family." Who really cares? 

But I didn't have any hobbies on this list that were things where I have little ability.

So this made me wonder: why do I avoid the things I'm not good at?

Pretty easy to answer that question: because I don't like failing. Especially in front of others.

In high school I even avoided team sports, except for soccer. Because I didn't totally suck at soccer. But besides that, I ran cross country and track. Individual sports where I had no one to disappoint but myself. 

If I would have been playing guitar for all of the years that I've said I'd love to learn how to play guitar, I'd probably be a pretty mean guitar player by now. But as it is, I'm not. 

I admire my daughters, who are learning many things right now and practicing, practicing, practicing. And playing. My daughters' piano teacher emphasizes that they find a "playtime" every day for piano. Not a practice time, but a playtime. I like this slight change of wording, and think I need to bring some "playtime" into my days.

So this fall, I've chosen a couple of things to try out where I have a big interest and absolutely no skill:

• Bollywood dance lessons. I know that my friends who traveled with me to India will find this highly amusing. I've had a love affair with the Bollywood genre ever since I traveled there in 1995. The lessons are a hoot. So much fun and laughter and stumbling around. And absolutely humongous mirrors where you can't help but peek at yourself flailing around. The whole while, I'm thinking "Wow, I suck, but this is a pile of fun." The only thing I'm really good at in Bollywood dancing is smiling. I have one plastered on my face for the whole 45 minute lesson.

• Poetry group. I have no idea what I'm doing as far as discussing or writing poetry, but I'm interested. And I'll probably make a fool of myself. Just like Bollywood. Only not so much hip and bum actions.

doing enough

I have a problem with "enough." I often feel like I could do more, or should do more. More as a parent, more as a wife, more as a friend, more as an employee, more as a volunteer. I collapse into bed some nights, weary but wishing for that more. Thinking I haven't done enough that day.

I'm reading a very good book right now - perfect for this time of year when I tend to take on more. It's called A Life of Being, Having and Doing Enough by Wayne Muller.

One part that I read last week has stuck with me. He writes about resetting our inner thermostat - that we all have a regulator inside ourselves that tells us when we are doing enough or too much. When we know how to "read" our body, it can tell us when our activity level has reached a comfortable level, or when it is uncomfortably busy.

BUT many people don't take time to read their inner thermostat (like me). Or the thermostat is broken and the house is on fire.

How do we know when we have taken on too much? Muller recommends asking this question when you approach a new task or responsibility:

• Am I truly able to say that I really love this or is it more honest to say that I can handle this?

He says that if we take on too many things that we can merely "handle", then we get to a point where we feel we are barely able to handle our days - that we have too much. If we choose based on things we love, we are more likely to be nourished and feel "enough" at the end of the day. 

I struggle with this. I know I tend to take things on with the "I can handle this" attitude. Because I think "well, SOMEONE has to do this." If I'm at a committee meeting, I want it to end as soon as possible so I go away with more jobs than I probably should, just to speed the meeting along and because I can handle it. Or so I think.

But I want to keep this love/handle question in front of me this fall. I want to hit my pillow at night and think "That was a good day. That was enough."

end of summer

Well, it's me again. I've been away from this blog since the end of May, which in blogland is an entire eternity, so I'll understand completely if you've stopped reading. But if you're still there, I'm back. Probably not in a daily way that I was at one time, but in a weekly way.

I've realized that I need this space again. The summer has been full of ups and downs and has been consumed largely by our move to a new house. My moods have been down more than usual, and I feel like I need to write to keep myself on the up and up.

I've realized the power of words - to hurt, to heal, to make whole. And also the power of silence. There is something very healing for me to type words on a page. And if these words can give just one other person a bit of a balm to their day - even better.

And now here I am, the first day of school. Part of me is really sad about the start of the school year. It makes me wonder if we squeezed enough out of this summer. But as I look back, I realize that we did many, many things that felt summer-y and oh-so-good to me. Like:

* visiting Kawartha Dairy for some chocolate peanut butter ice cream

* going on a hike at a new spot - this summer to Eagle's Nest and Egan's Chutes near Bancroft, Ontario

* canoeing on a still lake - even better, at night during a full moon

* swimming in a northern lake - even better, at night during a full moon

* finding monarch caterpillars, watching them turn to chrysalises and releasing the butterflies (we cared for 3 this summer)

* spending time with friends and renewing old friendships

* family camp at Fraser Lake Camp

* sleeping in a tent, reading by flashlight

* fishing (didn't catch a thing, but it's the process, not the product - right?)

* making s'mores over a campfire

* spending time at cottages with family

* spending evenings chatting on our new porch (old porch, but new house to us)

* making nature crafts (it's amazing what hot glue, imagination, and googly eyes can make)

* catching frogs, minnows, toads, and crayfish

* making giant bubbles

* making fresh pesto

* eating paella on a perfect summer evening

* watching the sunset on the lake

* counting the stars

* writing in the air with sparklers

* discovering a new bakery (that sells macarons, which we hadn't had since our time in France)

* going rock collecting at this cool place that looks tacky but was a pile of fun

* eating wild raspberries

* quietly watching a deer from only 15 feet away

* jumping from a jumping tower

* floating on my back in a lake and completely forgetting about everything

* planting new things in our backyard

* lying in a hammock, watching squirrels fight and hummingbirds flit around

* reading a novel (hasn't happened in a long, long while)

* tie-dying t-shirts

* watching street performers

* riding the ferris wheel

* eating cotton candy

* building an inukshuk

* doing a belly flop

There. I feel better already. I really DID have a summer. Phew! When I look at this kids' bucket list, I love that there are many things on there that we did this summer.

And now I can enter this new day, this new school year at a brand new school for my girls, knowing that we played, we relaxed, we summered well.

What are your favourite summer memories? Or things on your must-do list in the summer?

family as mini-church

I've worked for almost a month now for MennoMedia - a publishing network for the Mennonite church in North America. My job is "curriculum project developer" - I get to help to dream up what's next in terms of resources for faith formation for our children and youth. And I'm excited about it. I've been doing a lot of reading lately about faith formation, and a couple of things have struck me:

* families are the spaces/people where faith is most often formed and nurtured. Homes have altars where the family worships - sometimes the kitchen table, sometimes the TV. Parents are spiritual guides or pastors, presiding over the spiritual input our children receive. Praying for and with them, spiritually guiding and nurturing them. Pointing out God-moments in their lives. Providing spaces in our home for calm, quiet, reflection, prayer. Taking responsibility for this nurture, and not leaving it up to a program that meets for one hour on a Sunday.

*children's faith doesn't necessarily need to be formed as much as protected. They already have faith, or a relationship with God - possibly even more profound than my own that's been whittled away by years of cynicism, skepticism and materialism.

I may want my child to learn where middle C is on the piano, or learn to catch a baseball in a glove, or learn the various strings on her violin. But do I spend as much, or more, time teaching them ways of praying, or the stories that have shaped me in my faith?

Here's a little secret: NOPE. I haven't. Some days I even feel too tired to pray before bedtime, which I think that everyone except me does with their kids at night.

I want prayer to shape and change me, and I want it to shape my kids too. It seems there is so much noise in our world - so many messages coming at us each day - and I want my kids to have a quiet, still place that they can return to that gives them sustenance for the day. To me, prayer is about accepting my limits, and opening myself to a source and grace that is bigger than me. Here's a quote from Luther I read this week: "I have so much business I cannot get on without spending three hours daily in prayer."

THREE HOURS!?

I may disappoint myself if I strive for that goal at this point, but this is how I'll work at being a spiritual guide/priest to my family this week:

1. eat supper together. Talk. Pray.
2. pray with and for them at bedtime.
3. Show my love by listening to what they're saying to me. Turn off the list-maker/stress-maker in my head and listen.

In summary:

Eat. Pray. Love.

When your children ask their parents in time to come, "What do these stones mean?" then you shall let your children know, "Israel crossed over the Jordan here on dry ground." - Joshua 4:21-22

not so super me

Has it been almost a month since I last wrote? Yikes. Well, it's all part of my campaign to be not so super. This is a very fun campaign, and it goes along with my "expect less" motto. It leads to a lot less guilt and a lot more appointment (opposite of disappointment). :)

It involves letting things go, or at least slide, for awhile. Letting balls drop. Not picking them up (someone else can). Stop trying to prove myself to myself. Sitting in my pajamas for the day. Being terribly unproductive. Releasing my self-appointed role as emotional barometer of the family. Enabling responsibility, not helplessness, in my children. Breathing. Praying. Smiling.

Along with being not so super, I'm trying to be not so jealous of my husband who's spending 3.5 weeks in Israel/Palestine right now. But the unexpected gift that I always find when I single-parent is that I lower my expectations for what will get accomplished around here. And I spend more time just being present. Presence. Stillness. Now why can't I just be like that when we're all on the same national soil? Silly.

I have no problem expecting more of myself - I do this all the time. More mom, more wife, more blogging, more working, more church/volunteer work. If I have a 3/4 time job (which I just started 2 weeks ago), then I'll work 5/4.

What is much harder for me is the less.

ready, set, sold!

Long time, no write. This past month has been an adventure in real estate - one I've never had before.

We had a wonderful agent who included a home stager to give us advice on how to make the most of our house and stage it well. Basically, she advised clearing out about 1/2 of our stuff, painting, new counter tops in the kitchen, and buying some stuff to spruce up the bedrooms and bathrooms. I was skeptical as I went through the house with her. It just seemed like an excuse to spend a lot of money - fluffy white bath towels here, bed in a bag there, white waffle-weave shower curtain here, seagrass baskets there, edit and organize everywhere, lots of floor space everywhere. But we took her seriously and did many of the things she suggested. And I'm a believer. The house sold for above asking price in lickety-split time. We're relieved, and it's nice now to live in our new and improved house for a few more months.

I've learned a lot, so I'll pass some of those learnings on in case you ever find yourself in the house selling world.

1. A fast trip from store to store can quickly add at least $100 to your shopping bill in the form of a nasty speeding ticket.

2. Shabby chic, in a home decor sense, only goes so far. There is a fine line between shabby chic and just plain old shabby junky. We have a bit of both, and had to decide what stayed and what left for staging our house.

3. When you are packing up a house in Ontario, Canada, you will make frequent trips to the liquor store. For quality, free boxes. Move directly to the pile of boxes. Do not linger.

4. Clearing out half of your house to get it ready to show gave me a physical aversion to buying more stuff. I did a lot of shopping in the past month - probably more shopping than I've ever done in any other month in my life - and I developed this distinct physical reaction in my gut when I'd think about bringing home anything that wasn't going to help us in the staging and selling of our home. My stomach felt a bit woozy. I hope I can keep that feeling alive in our new home so that I don't welcome the clutter in there. Wishful thinking? Hope not.

5. There are different wardrobes expected for different stores. The difference between the consumers' wardrobes at Home Sense and Home Depot are worlds apart. Usually I would visit both stores on the same outing - a bath towel here, a blind there. I was casual enough to look like I could be a DIY-er at Home Depot, except I wore flip-flops instead of work boots, so the sales people usually knew I needed help. At Home Sense, my funky jacket could pass, but the flip flops should have been traded for some cute little high heels that I don't own. Plus I should have worn make up and cared about my hair. Then I would have looked like I love to shop to decorate my home.

6. Find friends or family who will let you store stuff in their basements or garages. It takes a village to stage a house. We have spread our stuff out to 5 wonderful friends and family for the next few months, and we're grateful.

7. Don't clean a toilet with a screwdriver. It doesn't work.

top 5 Easter rituals

There are many rituals we've adopted over the years to celebrate Easter. Here are the top 5:

* Easter egg dying (no-brainer). When we were in France 2 years ago, I couldn't find white eggs, but I really loved the tones of the dyed brown eggs. 

* Easter baskets. I'm a bit nervous this year because my 5 year old has decided to pray to the Easter bunny to ask for something in particular for Easter. She devised this plan to see whether there really is an Easter bunny, or whether it's the parents. I have no idea what she has prayed for, so this Easter might be her revelation day. We'll see. If she prayed for a Kinder surprise chocolate egg, I've got that covered. 

* making egg cheese. This is from my Swiss Mennonite tradition. Some people call it "Easter cheese." It's mostly just a carrier for fresh maple syrup - it's a little bland all by itself. But I love it. My grandma used to make it, and she taught me how. Now I'm the family egg cheese maker. Watching the curds magically separate from the whey is mesmerizing. I look forward to making it every year.

* celebrating a seder meal. We've been having this meal on the Thursday before Good Friday as a way of remembering what Jesus was experiencing with his disciples. For us, it gives more meaning to the Easter story of death and resurrection. Our daughters look forward to it, and ask each year who we're celebrating with this year. Each year it's been different and special - a celebration of our hope and freedom, and a reminder that not all in our world are free. I love how the kids ask questions to frame the storytelling around the table, and the symbolism in the foods. 

* baking paska bread. This comes from my husband's Russian Mennonite background. The recipe makes a huge batch of bread, and it's fun to make little loaves and share them around with teachers, family, friends. It's a long process with three risings of the dough. I always end up singing "We Rise Again" by the Rankin Family while I'm making paska. And the three risings remind me of 3 sad days. And the yeast makes me think that many miracles are possible, even a resurrection. The smell of the bread dough rising and that yeast doing its silent work makes me put aside my skeptical reasoning brain for yet another Easter, ready to embrace what I cannot imagine. Ready to trust in a magic that I cannot see. Hopeful that a resurrection is possible once again.

the little loaves rising

mixing the dough

kneading

icing and sprinkles

What are your rituals at this time of year?