field guide

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY THREE

The Program was today. I just spent some time at Bug and Baby Girl’s preschool for the annual Thanksgiving Program and lunch. It was fun times with a cute little turkey and a very handsome pilgrim. We brought our own turkeys made out of Oreos and a plate of cheese slices to contribute to the sandwiches of the crowd. They smiled and waved. They sang. They clapped and touched their head, shoulders, knees and toes. They were happy. And they knew it. It was all the unexpected silliness you would expect from a preschool program.

It took two hours of what was an already busy day if you include the assembling of the cheese plate and the gas that had to be purchased before I could get the van home. I walked back into my office to a piled up desk and an iPad app full of tasks waiting to be checked off. Still, although I may feel a little stretched with this week’s schedule, I just know those were two of the best hours I could spend today.

Yes, I received all the standard reminders of Thanksgiving at The Program. The blessing of the holiday. The food we could partake. The sweet faces and infectious smiles. But this year I was also reminded of what a blessing it is for me to have the freedom to do all the things that seem to be required of Mommies during the holidays.

A year and a half ago when I learned that the company I had worked with for 16 years would be closing, that freedom wasn’t on my radar. I didn’t really have a moment of panic then (I think that came later), but it did seem like a setback. Some limitation (what felt like another limitation) I would need to scrape through. A financial strain. An emotional strain. A colossal change in my normal.

As it turned out, I really didn’t have much time to ponder the limitations. In the same breath she told me she was retiring, my boss/friend/mentor said “you need to start your own design business.” And she proceeded to articulate several ways she thought I would succeed. Wow! It was a new thought to me. The short story is that I did just that, and I was right. It WAS a colossal change in my norm — a change I am now so grateful is my new normal.

Although I could barely imagine it at the time, this experiment of a new business and the decision to work from my home has been a Godsend. It’s given me the opportunity to be that Mom I wanted to be. I wanted to be the Mom who could go on the field trip or organize the party or knock off the afternoon early for snow cones. I’ve also come to enjoy the freedom to cultivate my own mix of design services, consulting strategies and writing skills I can offer to clients. I relish the chance to hone my own commitments into those that most closely resemble my ideal. I love making the determination to give away my time to some of the clients if I feel it’s right. And when it comes right down to the bottom line, I’m so grateful for this chance to provide for my kids in a way I probably wouldn’t have been able to in my previous work situation.

As I look around this office I’ve organized and adorned with design books, color chips, kid drawings and throw pillows, I find that I wouldn’t have my normal any other way. What a blessing to be able to spend my days enjoying tasks and the place I have to do them! What a blessing to be able to lay them aside for two hours to devote that time to what matches with my own priorities — my only responsibility and accountability being the things that matter most to me in work and life. Life is too short to settle for less than that.

Today, full on kid songs and Oreos and burgeoning project tasks, I’m so thankful for the realization that what seemed like a step backward actually brought me right were I want to be. Funny how that happens.

12 Days of Thanksgiving: DAY TWO

Yesterday I spent some time with my little ones outside again. I love the magic that fresh air often provides to our spirits. We’ve been working on a project this year in the back yard. For me, it’s a project to transform the back yard into the back garden. That distinction is lost on the kids, of course. They are simply enjoying the opportunity to dig in new dirt. I’m enjoying the opportunity to reclaim something.

I call it “the pile.” The back corner of my property had been left as a growing debris pile for many years — the place where unwanted plants, dirt, clippings, and limbs were all left to decay. As “the pile” grew, it had become an eyesore. The huge display of rotting and drying vegetation had begun to take over the yard, the view and my enthusiasm. In my mind “the pile” had become a symbol of growing frustration with other areas of my life I felt had been neglected and left to dry up and wither. Areas that seemed to be taking over and squelching my vitality.

Beyond that, “the pile” had become shameful to me. It was ugly. It was unkept. It was irresponsible. It was intimidating. It represented my own resistance to stand up and cultivate the life of significance I really want.

I’m writing in past tense. It WAS. Back in the Spring, I decided to tackle “the pile” and operation reclamation began. I hired someone to come and haul the pile away leaving bare ground. Slowly (with the help of my Mom and the cheers of my kids) I’ve thought through that plot of earth’s possibilities. I’ve marked off areas for plantings. We’ve pruned and cleared unwanted plants. We planted azaleas and tea olive shrubs. We added a wooden swing. With great excitement, we hauled in a funky shaped playhouse for Baby Girl’s birthday. We even added a few plants around its little stoop.

All the while, we’ve been giggling. We’ve been digging. We’ve been getting muddy. We’ve been working. We’ve been planning and imagining. We’ve been ENJOYING that space. We’ve been LIVING in that space.

Yesterday, we put out seed in that space. We bought the rye seed. We stood amazed at how tiny they were. We dumped them into the seed spreader and we rolled them out into that reclaimed earth.

As I think about Thanksgiving and the recognition of bounty it provides, I can’t help but be reminded about the power of sowing seeds. About the need to clear ground before new growth can occur. About the joy and confidence that comes from reclaiming what has been squelched. About the reminder that spaces must be empty before they can be filled. Bit by bit, step by step, cultivating is inspiring. In all its messy stages. It’s admirable. It’s worthy of gratitude for each foothold that is gained.

It’s so easy to focus attention on where we are NOT in this journey of living. It’s so easy to give credence to the place we haven’t yet reached. It’s so easy to discount the necessary small (and big) steps it takes to get there. I’m so thankful for “the pile’s” tangible reminder that green grass — the grass I can’t see now — begins with removing dead branches. It begins with determining that something must be cleared if I am to gain NEW ground. I’m thankful for the reminder that preparing the earth is a necessary step in enjoying bounty.