Beauty

I love peonies. They are one of my very favourite flowers. Every year when they are in season I buy at least one bouquet of them at the farmer's market. They are expensive, but worth it. Not this year. This year there are other expenses that need to be met and there just isn't room in the budget for extras like peonies.

I've decided that instead of being disappointed I am going to make a spiritual (and fiscal) exercise of enjoying beauty without having to possess it. That's always been something of a problem for me. When I see something beautiful, I want to own it. Maybe it's just part of the human condition, longing for permanence and perfection in an impermanent and imperfect world. There's something about the transient nature of beauty that makes it all the more irresistible, and even when I can possess a thing I find beautiful I often find that the act of capturing it dulls my appreciation rather than increasing it.

Instead, I am letting myself be awed by it's grandeur


it's fragility


it's brilliance

and it's splendor, and leaving it just as I found it.

Sailboats and Daydreams

Zach and I have had a daydream for a long time. When the kids are grown and out of the house, we want to use Zach's 6 months off a year to go sailing to far flung places. It's one of those dreams we quietly nurse, doing a little research, learning a new skill that might help us on our adventures, talking to people who've done what we want to do. We don't talk about it much to our friends and family. I don't know why. They'd (almost) all be supportive of us.

When we hatched this dream we were newlyweds, 20 and 24 years old sleeping on the floor of our itty-bitty one bedroom apartment because we couldn't afford a bed and driving around in our rusted out 1977 Dodge van, at least when it was working. On a whim we'd drive up the coast or out to Arizona to see Zach's dad who was, I kid you not, prospecting for gold. Life was simple and spontaneous.

We've lost a little of that since we had kids. Most people do. Don't get me wrong, I love our life, and we've made some unconventional choices. We have learned to live on very little money and value flexibility and time together over financial security and status. But for the last five years there's this voice in the back of my head (a voice that sounds remarkably like my grandma) that follows me around telling me, "You can't do that, you have kids now" or "What would people think? You need to get your life in order." We didn't set out to be conventional, but time and other people's expectations have worn us down.

Then last night, as I sat down to fold a load of laundry I turned on the TV to find Ice Blink, a documentary about a family of five who sails around the world. Both Zach and I sat there, riveted and inspired by this family and their story. While we have no intentions of taking off into the wild blue yonder ahead of schedule, it did help us to see that the spontenaiety and fun-loving
spirit that defined our early years isn't something we have to give up just because we have a family. Within the framework of our stable, loving home, a little adventure could be a good thing for our kids. Life is full of the unexpected. That's what makes it so interesting, whether it's white-water rafting or "Night Waffles" at a 24-hour diner at 3AM.

Read the biography of any great perosn. A dose of audacity, a little self-confidence and a healthy trust that God will provide have proved time and time again to be essential tools for a fabulous life. I know they have been essential to me.

Hanging Out

Photo courtesy of BrotherMagneto

I don't like the word "Entertaining" as it applies to the concept of getting together with friends and family. It conjures up images of a Martha Stewart perfect table, perfect meal and well-ordered life. I picture well-dressed ladies gathering around a garden table for a luncheon or an overstuffed holiday meal with a million relatives in Christmas sweaters and a host so stressed out from the effort she'd rather be napping than socializing.

I don't like the pressure to clean the house, make a gourmet feast and essentially put on a show. I love Ina Garten, but I don't live in the Hamptons and I don't employ a florist. That style of entertaining is not where I'm at in life. Don't get me wrong. I love to cook and I love a fresh bouquet of flowers and a nice table setting. There are times I like that sort of thing, but it's not a prerequisite for time spent with friends.

Some of the strongest friendships I ever had happened when I was a kid, when Hanging Out was the order of the day and Entertaining never crossed our minds. A couple of years ago, in the throes of isolation due to a move and two babies, I decided that I didn't want to entertain or be entertained, I just wanted friends to hang out with. People to roast marshmallows with over a bonfire or sit on the back porch with drinking a beer and discussing theology, politics or the weather. I was lonely and isolated, complaints I hear from a lot of moms. I wanted friends, not just dinner guests.

I was thinking about this last night as three of my old childhood friends and I sat around a bonfire with our families eating hot dogs, sharing stories and discussing the nitty-gritty of Life, The Universe and Everything, to borrow a phrase from Douglas Adams. I feel so grateful to have these people in my life. People I don't need to impress. People who have seen the worst of who I am and still love me. People I can hang out with. There's a real sense of security in that.

This, I think, is the good stuff in life. The stuff I want more of, more nights spent reading each other the latest passage from our homemade novels, more days spent swimming in the pool or lounging at the beach or drinking coffee on the couch in my less-than-perfect living room free of pressure and pretense. This is the life.