Sandwich was where my Cape Cod life began. Easter 1967, my dad took me for a walk and told me he would be going to Vietnam. He explained Vietnam to me; I asked him why the people who make the wars don’t fight them (some things don’t change). It was his job he said. Pretty much the end of the discussion, other than my fear “will you be killed?” He would be leaving in July. In the meantime, he would have some time with the family. Later that spring he told me we were going on vacation. He was very excited and told me to guess where as he gave me a hint, “Cape…” “Canaveral!” I cried. No, not quite. Cape Cod. Never heard of it. “Where the heck is that?” I asked. Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed. We took plenty of trips to Massachusetts to visit my Irish family, so Massachusetts wasn’t such a big whoop for a vacation to me, even if it wasn’t at my gran’s.
Playing with digital photos, it’s occurred to me how much fun it is to find a focus and crop out the rest of the picture — or, as with our lives, the rest of the story. Although I have to admit, good and bad, I want all of the story much as parts of it may pain me. It keeps me whole. Of course, I can blithely write this on a day when all is right with my world.
I have a bunch of old and new friends coming over for our inaugural group adventure — creating a women’s circle, something I’ve envisioned for at least two years, perhaps longer. And now it’s finally here, after many fits and starts. Can’t wait — it is so difficult to come by community in the real world these days, let alone a virtual one. So today, I leave you with the rest of the Abbey picture. There will be other days for contemplation again but today is not one of them for me.
Bird on the peak of the abbey ruins in Timoleaugue — two of my favorite bits of nature — rock and feathers…earth and sky…grounded and infinite…earthbound and celestial…mmmm….yeah…
love this perspective on our catholic upbringing — for the longest time it sounded cool to use the recovering catholic term but i’ve had some really insightful, wild and amazing “catholic” experiences as an adult in the past 10 or 12 years.
…is what I wrote in a letter to myself this morning…craving a certain community of women, some peers…for this tween stage of my life…past the “mommy club” days but nowhere near “done” yet…don’t get me wrong, I miss those years and through my younger friends can enjoy them vicariously…but I know it’s time for me to move on, not hyper-focus on my kids as I once did (and like my mother still does)…and once again, the gift of a younger community that is shutter sisters has given me another gift today…Vision and Verb…I cannot wait to explore it further…Yes!
i used to dance
a long time ago
egyptian ballet african hip hop cuban butoh roth 5rhythms dancemeditation
anything to move my body
shake out my sorrows
jazz out my joys
share my sisterhood
awakening the goddess was what got me going
and my goddess awoke
she rose like the phoenix
but she’s been gone awhile
i don’t know what’s happened to her lately
she returned to ashes
but it’s time
for her to rise again
Today ended up being a good day after all — yesterday was not — it was just one of those days I was feeling stuck and discouraged. I think talking to my sis-in-law this morning helped a lot. Stay tuned for her blog. She’s a professional organizer but with a twist.
And my sister dropped by some surprise peanut butter cookies along with tonight’s supper. I did some grunt work I needed to get done and here I am, Tuesday afternoon, back from a walk downtown, ready to start fresh tomorrow, and looking forward to tonight’s movie, the original Ladykillers, with Alec Guiness and Peter Sellers. I fell asleep last night!
But before I sign off for today, head on over to Stef’s blog for her giveaway. I love her work and am looking forward to buying some of her photos someday — I saw them at Squam on the blocks she mounts them on and they are awesome!
**image from Movie Diva
Yesterday I spent about an hour and a half sorting through a gallon jar or so of coins — separating the silver from the pennies. Getting into the rhythm of it was meditative and the time actually flew as I sat there on a cold wooden floor — I would never have been able to sit so long on such a floor without this strangely soothing activity. By the time I was done, my hands were filthy — your mother was right — don’t put money in your mouth! My intention was to take the pennies up to the Coinstar at Shaw’s and learn how that thing works. Crazy as this sounds, dare I say it? It was actually a lot of fun. Something I would have done with my kids when they were younger had there been such a thing.
My arms are actually sore this morning from lugging the bag into the store and waiting for several minutes behind a man doing the same thing I was doing — cashing in pennies. It was his first time too. There we were, Coinstar virgins. Waiting was entertaining — I people watched and watched his pennies tallying on the screen as they went down the chute — I’ve never seen a slot machine except in the movies, but I imagine it’s something like that.
My turn, and it was very easy — the 8 cents on the dollar that Coinstar takes if you go for cash is so worth it — by the time my loot was totalled I had over 3500 pennies! And by the time I was finished there was someone else behind me. The act of gathering pennies though made me realize that the little things can add up, reminding me that no matter how small my steps, how small my days may feel, they are adding up to something bigger and it’s kind of fun watching what it all amounts to.