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Archive for November 2009 – Page 2

7th Day of Thanksgiving: 3 Years

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Happy Birthday, Bug! I brought you home for the first time three years ago on Thanksgiving Day. Since then, your smile has provided continual light.

6th Day of Thanksgiving: The Power of the Pen

Little Drummer Boy had his annual Thanksgiving program today complete with Pilgrim costumes, Native American headdresses, a tee pee and an alarming number of lyrics about chopping turkeys. Quiver was tied up with work, so it was just me and my favorite 4-year-old for lunch consisting of… turkey sandwiches. I must have heard “I love you, Mommy” 637 times and enjoyed it every time. I’m realizing that I say “I love you” to my gifts pretty often–with every available breath, actually. Now, I’m starting to get it back at me. Granted, sometimes it’s translated as “don’t spank me, Mommy,” but more often than not it signifies a grand old time.

All the Pilgrims and Indians today got me thinking. What’s a 12 Days of Thanksgiving without a little history? And, courtesy of the Starkville Public Library and LDB’s penchant for wanting to read the same book over and over (and over) again, I’ve learned a new little bit of history this year about the power of the pen.

A woman named Sarah Hale is credited with being the catalyst for the creation of a designated national day of Thanksgiving–the one we celebrate now on the fourth Thursday of November. We checked out a book from the library about her called Thank You Sarah, The Woman Who Saved Thanksgiving by Laurie Halse Anderson. It has great illustrations and a fun account of this unusual woman.

Sarah Hale was a writer and activist long before women even had the right to vote. She was a teacher, a poet, a songwriter (does Mary Had a Little Lamb ring a bell?) and a mom. She was also the editor of an influential women’s magazine–one of the first of its kind. She used that forum to lobby for any number of issues close to her heart. One of those issues was a national day of Thanksgiving. She first lobbied for the idea by challenging states to set aside a day. She succeeded, but every state had a different day. She felt there was value in creating a common day set aside for all Americans to give thanks. So, she began writing again–both columns in her magazine and letters and more letters. All in all, she spent 38 years writing letters and articles about Thanksgiving, including letters to five different presidents.

Finally, in 1863, when the country was in the midst of the bloody Civil War, she found someone who agreed that a national day of Thanksgiving could be a positive force in the American culture. On October 3rd of that year, President Abraham Lincoln delivered the first Thanksgiving proclamation.

What can I learn from history?

1. Sarah’s pen was indeed a powerful tool. And today, the pen is easier to wield than ever before with countless opportunities for “citizen media”– vehicles like blogs, social networking sites, email correspondence, and yes, the U.S. Postal Service still runs 6 days per week.

2. Sarah didn’t give up until her message was embraced–even after 38 years. It wasn’t enough for it to be heard. She was persistent until she convinced that one person who could make a difference.

3. The results had lasting power–so much so that a century and a half later President Barack Obama will make a Thanksgiving proclamation on Thursday, November 26th.

People with conviction can have a powerful impact if they choose to use their voices. Whatever I have to say, I better make it count.

5th Day of Thanksgiving: Slices of Light

I saw the crescent moon tonight on my way home, the tiniest sliver of bright edging the shadowed sphere. It’s waxing toward ever more brightness as the days move through this month. It’s just a slice tonight shining for all it’s worth. I can see the whole, but only a tiny piece is lending it’s light. That’s all I need to know it’s there. And that the full brightness is coming.
I’ve been thinking lately about the experiences and relationships that have added their slices of light in my life over the years. Just passing phases and appointed times, fleeting moments and unexpected interruptions. The people and situations that have, for a brief moment, moved me, edging me closer to what I already knew was there. I’m finding it incredibly hard to articulate the impact. And, in some ways I’m processing the loss of their sheer brevity. Times that may have seemed wasted, but were powerfully not.
Whether a word well-spoken, a push in a new direction, an open heart, an unsolicited gift, a need met, a humble correction, a time set aside… It goes on. I’m undeniably thankful for each one–for different reasons, with different outcomes, of course. But thankful nonetheless. Shining all the light you can muster into a moment is an incredible gift. It’s a sacrifice and a risk worth taking.
I’m inspired toward generosity of spirit. In the moments. Toward shining.

I saw the crescent moon tonight on my way home, the tiniest sliver of bright edging the shadowed sphere. It’s waxing toward ever more brightness as the days move through this month. It’s just a slice tonight shining for all it’s worth. I can see the whole, but only a tiny piece is lending it’s light. That’s all I need to know it’s there. And that the full brightness is coming.

I’ve been thinking lately about the experiences and relationships that have added their slices of light in my life over the years. Just passing phases and appointed times, fleeting moments and unexpected interruptions. The people and situations that have, for a brief moment, moved me, edging me closer to what I already knew was there. I’m finding it incredibly hard to articulate the impact. And, in some ways I’m processing the loss of their sheer brevity. Times that may have seemed wasted, but were powerfully not.

Whether a word well-spoken, a push in a new direction, an open heart, an unsolicited gift, a need met, a humble correction, a time set aside… It goes on. I’m undeniably thankful for each one–for different reasons, with different outcomes, of course. But thankful nonetheless. Shining all the light you can muster into a moment is an incredible gift. It’s a sacrifice and a risk worth taking.

I’m inspired toward generosity of spirit. In the moments. Toward shining.

4th Day of Thanksgiving: 10:03pm

10:03pm

For those of you who may not be privy to the secret inner world of WordPress Dude, the EyeJunkie posts don’t always come hot off the keyboard just as the thoughts spring from my brain. No, sometimes I actually schedule them ahead. [shock!] Sometimes I let them sit in my digital diary for weeks or months, adding a sentence or two here and there until they’ve adequately germinated. Sometimes they sit in the draft queue for a while waiting on me to hit the “publish” button. Sometimes they hang out in my hand-written title brainstorm list for an inordinate amount of time while I make room on the priority list. Sometimes WordPress Dude’s auto save function presses happily on while I scoot over to dictionary.com to find out the correct spelling of a word or while I answer one of the 4yo, 3yo or 1yo questions that come my way. If I’m really honest, sometimes when I say “last night” it was actually a few nights ago, or maybe a few months ago. Life’s just like that. Although the blogging medium is usually a little more transparent than some, WordPress Dude still offers a modicum of subterfuge tactics. It’s kind of like learning that President Obama wasn’t really the one writing all those tweets. Just as obvious, only with a MUCH smaller audience. For the three of my kind readers to whom it wasn’t obvious, I can only say… Pay no attention to the gal behind the curtain.

I think I may have taken this intro a little further than necessary.

10:16pm

I say all that to say this… This post is coming off the keyboard in real time. It’s a little odd even for me, but I needed a little self-intervention. You see, I’ve been struggling all day with coming up with some idea (any idea) for what to write about giving thanks. The fact is, I’m just about “give out,” as they say in my best Southern. It’s been a frustrating week so far with few thanksgiving fuzzies. I feel like I’m giving out in so many areas–being a wife, a mother, a cook, a home-keeper, a “creative”, a designer, a blogger, a social media strategist, a writer–and there’s not enough coming back in at the moment. Likely, I’ve stretched my creativity too thin, which happens periodically, but the bottom line is that thanksgiving is not really part of the equation right now.

I’ve been frustrated. I’ve been irritated. I’ve been tired. I’ve been a complainer and even a whiner. I’ve been ripe for ranting about something, anything. [Aside: I fed the rant habit with a little ditty I’ll post tomorrow] I had to ask Little Drummer Boy’s forgiveness today. I had to try two gas pumps before the credit card machine would work. While staring aimlessly ahead as I pumped away $35, I read “container” as “cantankerous” on the petroleum warnings. Enough said.

10:26pm

So, I’m going uncensored this evening in an attempt to sharply correct my attitude. And to add a shot of reality into this 12 Days of Thanksgiving thing. I just don’t feel like being grateful. I can’t find my gratitude inspiration. It’s Day 4. What can I glean about giving thanks from this predicament.

Here’s something that’s as good as any… Thanksgiving is my choice. There I said it. If thanksgiving is my choice, then being a whiner is my choice too. Ouch. It’s a painful reality. It’s not that I don’t have something to be thankful for or that there is nothing in my life to inspire my gratitude. The problem is that I’m choosing to focus my attention in the wrong direction. It’s my choice.

So, here goes. With you as my witness, I’m turning the corner, turning the page, whatever. It’s time to rethink my choice. I’m going to spend the next 15 minutes writing things I’m thankful for. And, I don’t mean a list of stuff I like. I mean things that have added blessing and value to my life just in the last few days. Ready, go.

10:35pm

Old friends that have unintentionally encouraged me to get real — A work acquaintance who responded to a request I thought was overlooked in such an incredibly generous, humble and transparent way — The ability to write what I think and feel in this amazing forum and have other people actually read it — The sweet voice of Bug as he sings his lullaby with me, and keeping my voice as soft as humanly possible so I could hear — Obys takeout on a busy day — Having the opportunity to speak for Dux D’Lux in online media, a great and challenging responsibility — A job that has continued to challenge me for 15 years, where I’ve continued to learn and grow creatively — Our first really crisp day — A glowing orange cable-knit v-neck sweater for $14.99 (I’m a girl, and it’s basic, folks) — The internet, what unprecedented access to ideas and opinions from everywhere all at once — The screaming from my hallway and realizing it’s the glee of truck races and giggles rather than arguments — A few days of full-time work for Quiver and the hope that it will continue — Baby Girl has not been pulling on her ear in the last few days and early evening naps have made her a happy camper — The artistic vision of Walter Anderson — Relatively smooth mornings and safe travel as I’ve handled getting all three gifts dressed and to preschool by myself this week — The anticipation of getting to have lunch with Little Drummer Boy on Friday — The fact that my gifts love going to their school — The act of forgiveness, giving and receiving it — Rat poison to stop that incessant scratching during these first cold days (sorry, had to go there because it’s distracting me) — The joy that comes from learning from others — The opportunity to give grace where it’s due and where it isn’t —

10:50pm

Ok. The choice is a no-brainer.

3rd Day of Thanksgiving: The Zoosday 12

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On this, the 3rd day of my 12 Days of Thanksgiving adventure, I give you the Tuesday Zoosday Twelve–hot off the presses from a great family weekend. We took our gang to the Memphis Zoo this weekend to celebrate Bug’s 3rd birthday. It’s amazing how time just extends itself when you’re out of your normal routine and environment. As we drove to fetch take-out on Sunday night after we arrived home, Quiver and I both commented that it seemed like we were away so much longer than just one night. We left on Saturday morning and came back home on Sunday evening, but it felt like much more. The whole extended family went–a gift for all on Bug’s birthday from G-Mo and Paw-T. It was a wonderful family time of getting out of our element and into a new perspective. It was much-needed fun with no distractions diluting the time with our precious gifts. Twelve weekend blessings confirmed by buzz around the Montgomery house since Sunday:

1. Great weather.
2. Little Drummer Boy had a TV in his bedroom. (read hotel room)
3. We found the panda bear before closing.
4. Thomas the Train books were a huge it.
5. Animal toys don’t have to have sounds, lights or batteries to be fun.
6. Giraffes like ukelele music.
7. Mommy has a pretty good sense of direction.
8. The best Memphis BBQ advice from locals.
9. Bug can still stop traffic with his trademark squeal.
10. It’s pretty fun for two preschool boys to sleep in the same bed.
11. One Daddy can actually push two strollers at once.
12. IHOP rocks.

I’m so thankful for the joy of new experiences–for myself and for my little ones. I’m thankful for the gift of celebration that can be enjoyed at any time and in any place. I’m thankful for my parents, who value those things enough to give them to us. And, for instilling in me the quest for that consciousness yesterday’s quote so aptly described. When it comes to the end of the day, Thanksgiving is much better lived than spoken. And try as I might with 300 words or so, I can’t seem to embody the spirit of all the eye-opening hope and wonder that a thankful heart enjoys any better than the evidences from last night’s Thanksgiving Tree additions you see up there:

I got to see giraffes. I got to see lions and tigers.

And, I got to watch.

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