Summertime Checklist

For many of us, having something to look forward to can make the "stuff of life" a little easier to handle when the going gets tough. Here's a short list of what I love about summer in Ashland and what, at this rainy point in the late spring, I turn my hopeful heart toward. Drop a comment and add to the list....

1. Rarely setting alarms and moving to the rhythm of a more natural inner clock.
2. The sound of cicadas singing.
3. Falling asleep to the rhythmic click of the ceiling fan.
4 . Eating every meal on the back porch.
5. Walking barefoot through newly watered grass.
6. The sound of rotating sprinklers on a wide lawn.
7. The smell of Peter Buckley’s barbeque being lit up - night after night.
8. Sitting directly in front of a floor fan.
9. Weeding the garden early in the morning.
10. Long meandering hikes through dusty quiet wood.
11. The familiarity of a Sousa march being played in the band shell in the park.
12. Wading in an icy cold creek, to the point of bright red numbed toes and legs.
13. Bare skin.
14. Looking out from under the brim of a straw hat.
15. Potluck dinners under shady arbors.
16. Raspberries.
17. Crispy, drip down your chin, wet red watermelon.
19. The sound of neighbors laughing through their open screen doors.

20. Candlelight.

21. Ginny reading in the hammock.
22. Going to into an air conditioned movie house and walking back out into a sauna two hours later.
23. Picking and eating - straight from the garden: snap peas, pole beans, warm rip tomatoes.
24. Cotton dresses.
25. Marveling at the 4th of July territorial parade watching shenanigans.
26. Dancing under the moon.
27. Sneaking around the neighborhood after dark, playing hide and seek.
28. The thrill of the lemonade stand.
29. Driving with the windows down.

30. Cold beer - in quantity - combined with an equal share of good friends.

31. Putting away the lawn mower - job well done.
32. The first thunderstorm - it’s electrical charge and that delicious smell of wet, hot pavement.
33. Popsicles consumed in a good people watching place.
34. Outdoor concerts with starlight and half moon rising by the fourth song.

35. Driving to the coast - and the way the air temp drops 30 degrees on the other side of the tunnel!
36. The purple vetch that covers the foothills until mid July.
37. Campfires - story telling, poking sticks into the coals, the way the flames make faces glow.
38. Picking blackberries..eating blackberries...picking - eating - picking - eating.
39. The sheer voluptuousness and bounty of the stalls at the Growers Market.

40. Painting in my bikini.

41. Sprinkler games.
42. Gracie playing fiddle tunes outdoors at dusk.
43. Fresh Basil...armfuls of it...
44. Sinking - more fully - into the warm, full, ripe, inviting moments of each day.

No Proof Required

Happy Monday...and week leading up to Valentine's Day. Valentines may be a lot of hooey to some (probably not Hallmark Cards), but it does offer a great excuse, which I may take advantage of these next few days,  to write a bit about Love....

Conveying Love “is when you reveal yourself nakedly and honestly, at any given moment, for no other purpose than as a gift of what's alive in you. Not to blame, criticize, or punish. Just ‘Here I am, and here is what I would like.’ This is my vulnerability at this moment. To me, that is a way of manifesting love, “ says peace teacher Marshall Rosenberg.

On it’s veneer, one assumes that any expression of love is nonviolent, yet the Nonviolent Communication method (NVCM) created by Rosenberg suggests that simply saying the words “I love you” doesn’t necessarily create connection or harmony. In fact, “I love you”  is viewed as often a rote, and at its worst, manipulative phrase rather than an expression of true gratitude.

As in “To Do Or Not To Do” where I explored the verb-like qualities of responsibility and compassion, I agree with Rosenberg’s stance that Love isn’t merely a feeling. Love is an action, and a truly nonviolent expression of Love is something we manifest, something we do, something we have. It involves giving of ourselves in a certain way that is a truthful, caring and positively intended expression of what's alive in us in that moment.

So merely saying “I love you” can miss the mark - due to the senders’ intention (when the words are said in perfunctory fashion or they are expressed with expectations) or due to the receiver’s ears (wanting “proof” or attempting to assign some sort of measurement “how much do you love me?” rather than joyfully receiving it).

When Love is an action, it is a gift of your Self to an Other with no ulterior  purpose other than to reveal what's present or alive in your Self because of something that that Other did which made life more wonderful.

So, what might such an exchange of Love look like?

Years ago when I was a junior high school English teacher, I started each class by reading aloud. I believed that, even at the ripe old age of thirteen, kids deserved the nurturing act of being read to, especially since many never received this kind of attention at home. The practice was one of devotion toward my students, and I read with enthusiasm to rapt listeners.

One day, unbeknownst to me, a fellow teacher stood just outside the classroom door observing me perched on the reading stool and watching the engaged expressions of the young audience. Later, my friend came to me and said, “I want you to know that when I watch and listen to you reading to your students, you are beautiful to me. I am inspired by what's happening between your and your students, and it feels wonderful!”  

Wow! I had never heard - nor felt - the words “I love you” spoken more powerfully in my life. 

Over the years, when the infamous “three little words” have fallen short of some invisible emotional mark - due either to the speaker’s (lack of) intent or my own inability to receive, I’ve longingly recalled the profound heart connection I felt with my friend - not only that day, but ever after - for the gift they shared. They weren’t complimenting or praising my appearance or teaching style, they were acknowledging “I see you and feel your passion, and I like the way my heart feels as a result.” 

Rosenberg says that in order to joyfully give and receive, we need to make three things clear when we express love or gratitude: 1) What specific action I want to celebrate in you that made life more wonderful. 2) How I feel now as I recall this action. 3) What needs of mine were fulfilled.

Expression of Love in this fashion frees us from the burden of proving our feelings and requiring proof in return, removes the emotional obligations in which we often tangle ourselves, and offers us opportunities to truthfully express how we are and what we need.

So here’s an early "Valentine" to my kids ~

Dear Reid, Gracie and Scout, When you reach out to me - inviting me to play; gently poking holes in my endless worries; eating countless experimental meals; patiently waiting “just one minute” for the tenth time; sharing your grand schemes, do-able dreams, biggest fears, quirky stories and silly jokes; revealing when you don’t understand and shining out when you do; looking me in the eye and speaking your truths -- I am awed and honored by your generosity. You teach me every day to never stop reaching out to others, to keep reaching in to the heart and to remember to reach up in faith.

How will you manifest Love today?

May Day

Happy May Day!

It’s a blessing to live in an era where the wisdom and artistry of others is right at our fingertips. Poems - one of the ultimate art forms using an economy of words (for eons before blogging) can get to the center of many things.

As I wrestle with keeping my heart like the “half open flower” described by Jacobsen in the poem below “When They Sleep,” I also plant this wish for peace - on all levels of our lives - for you, reader. ~ mlp

When They Sleep

All people are children when they sleep.
There's no war in them then.
They open their hands and breathe
in that quiet rhythm heaven has given them.

They pucker their lips like small children
and open their hands halfway,
soldiers and statesmen, servants and masters.
The stars stand guard
and a haze veils the sky,
a few hours when no one will do anybody harm.

If only we could speak to one another then
when our hearts are half-open flowers.
Words like golden bees
would drift in.
-- God, teach me the language of sleep.

~ Rolf Jacobsen ~

(The Roads Have Come to an End Now, translation by Robert Hedin)