I’m Feeling Grateful

Posted on November 27, 2011 by JKW

I’m feeling like since Thanksgiving week is coming to a close I should put down, in writing, what I am thankful for. I’ve been thinking about it more over the weekend than I did during the week. Jesse was sick again on Tuesday. I wasn’t too thankful that day. Nate wiped snot all over his sheet one morning then peed in his bed, by accident, so I had to change sheets twice this week. Not too thankful there either. Or was I?

I have a list of very concrete, large things to say thank you for. My house, my car, my family. This nifty new computer I am writing on right now from the coffee shop.

I don’t usually do Black Friday. Never have and may never again. But this year I had a hankering for a little-bitty computer I could tote around and write on when the moment moved me. Turns out they had it at Target for exactly how much I said I would be willing to spend on it. It’s called a Netbook. And, the only stipulation was that I had to get the Black Friday Door Buster! bargain to get the price.

I told my mom about it and she said, “What makes you think you will be the one to get that computer?”  She was referring to how the stores advertise the big deal, only to have three on hand.

“I know, it’s a long shot,” I reassured her. I don’t fancy myself that lottery winner, but if it is meant to be, I’ll have it, I thought.

I decided not to do the midnight, large lines and all that jazz. It’s not for me. So the next day I asked Hubby if he would mind riding with me to Target. First Target, the man says, “We just ran out an hour ago”.

I expected that much, it was 10 a.m. And, it is a lottery after all. But second Target – Bull’s Eye! They had my computer. I won the lottery! At 11 a.m. That felt good. Special.

I mentioned my mom asking me questions, and even though I was a little put out about her not believing I could get my computer, I was infinitely grateful that she made the trip here to spend Thanksgiving with us. She’s about to graduate from nursing school and has every reason to want to rest and relax, but she came into the whirlwind of my home and spent the holiday with us.

We went out to eat for our “big meal.” I was able to have a wonderful meal of a crab tower (avocado, mango and crab neatly layered and arranged beautifully on a plate with a lemony sauce all around it), and a salad with candied walnuts. I relished every bite of that meal and some of my mom’s bourbon glazed salmon and spinach, and some of Hubby’s sweet potatoes, and a bite or two of Robert’s (my step-dad) apple pie. What a meal!

Also this week, Hubby found a new great house keeper. She’s a pro. Nice, efficient, I can talk to her about my needs without feeling too pushy. She’s great. And so very needed.

Yesterday I got to take my daughter to the zoo. It was our first time doing that with just the two of us. Hubby and Nate were at the GA-GA Tech game having father-son sports time together.

Speaking of Hubby, we went out last night and had a good time together. And my friend, Monti, texted me a bunch of times while we were out wanting me to come over to her house with Hubby. I left the “conversation” feeling loved and wanted. This all happened after I went to a beautiful and helpful meditation on Acceptance.

And here I am, at the close of the Thanksgiving week, on my computer while Hubby hangs with our two healthy, fun children. I’m having a mocha at my favorite coffee shop and my house is clean, but lived in (that’s mom-talk for just a little messy).

Does all of this sound simple? It’s meant to.

I think my friend and hair stylist, Andrea Goldklang, said it best when she posted in Facebook, “More than ever this Thanksgiving we are thankful for the simple things and realize now that they are not so simple and that love, life, family and friendships are all gifts! Happy Thanksgiving!”

Andrea would know very well how the simple things are not as they seem. Andrea’s son, Nolan, has been in and out of the hospital since June getting rid of leukemia. Her eight year old baby boy has been through a storm of proportions that all parents pray to never go through. And in all of the wind and speed, when you read a blog that Andrea created, you get a sense of being in the eye of the storm, that little spot in the middle where the peace is.

I won’t use the word calm, who could be calm when their son has leukemia? But grace comes to mind. Acceptance. Love of life. Appreciation of the little things. I have learned so much from her, not just about going through a painful experience, but how to live life to its fullest and appreciate everything.

It was her post in Facebook that had me deciding that ultimately, this Thanksgiving, I am honoring the little things. The feelings I get from those around me. The ordinary acts of a day that may seem simple, but in the end make up a lifetime. They really are not so simple after all because they equal up to love, life, family and friendships. And for me, a feeling of peace and infinite gratitude.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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In the Beginning

Posted on November 16, 2011 by JKW

I have a vision of writing a book, Soul Café, in a world full of drive-throughs, Soul Café is a place to sit and enjoy the Now.  It’s divided into chapters based on different books I have read on spiritual thinking. Taking what I learn from each book, I turn it into a life lesson from my own life and share that lesson with the reader.
Sounds easy enough? Well, it isn’t. Each time I tried to get my head around my message and start writing “the book,” I left frustrated.

But I didn’t stop reading and I didn’t stop learning. So I just read and read and read and learned. I bet I read 20 books or more before I started blogging on Mom’s Soul Café. And that is what I was guided to do, blog. My hope is that if I can write in small portions, eventually a whole palate will show itself.

I turned Soul Café into Mom’s Soul Café because I found many of my lessons coming from motherhood. My children have been my best teachers. In fact, I now believe my kids, my son for sure, was put in my life to make me a better person. I find more reasons to get “Zen” every day I am around him.

He’s strong willed and requires a lot of me. I don’t mean that to sound bad, it’s just the truth. He is my mirror. When I see him acting like me and I don’t like myself very much, I know it’s time to meditate, to take a deep breath, to be the person I desire to be. Nathan is the best mimic I have ever met. He can act me out perfectly, my pleasant side and, certainly, the side I want to improve.

The day before Nathan was born a hawk landed on my deck. It was the first and last time that ever happened. The hawk was very big, brown with a red tail, and over a foot tall. It landed and just sat there looking at me. The hawk stayed over a minute, just sitting there, staring.

I guess even then my path was being laid out. I didn’t know it, but I was being guided to do what I am now doing. You see, the hawk is a messenger. Hawks connect heaven and earth. Just what my son has done for me since he was born.

He’s my mirror, my messenger, and my connection to earth and to heaven. He grounds me one minute, in the often ordinary acts of mothering, and he helps me see my higher self the next, with a question or a challenge he presents me with. It’s hard, this kind of relationship.

I thought children would make me happy. Only happy. I had never been around kids much. It turns out, kids have not made me happy. Happy is an emotion and emotions are fleeting. I’m happy in one instance then I pick my kids up from school and they are kicking each other and crying and I think my head will pop off. I’m not happy, I’m peed off! Then my daughter sings a song called Herman the Worm or I see my son’s Thanksgiving play and I am so happy I think my heart will burst. I’m aggravated, I’m sad, I’m angry, I’m frustrated, I’m happy, I’m excited, I’m exhausted, tired, I’m silly, and much more.

And in order deal with all of the emotions of being a mother, I got spiritual. I don’t want those around me to associate me with my emotions, I want them to see past that, to my soul. To my intent, and in my heart my intent is always based in love, only love.

Searching my soul in a deeper way began when I saw an episode of Oprah, where she introduced a book called, A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. As Oprah teased the episode she kept saying if you watched the show you were sure to “awaken to your life’s purpose.” This caught my attention. Who doesn’t want to know their life’s purpose?

I didn’t realize she was presenting a spiritual read. I assumed it was something more along the lines of a quiz, like the happiness quiz (see post in February: The Measure of Happiness), where I would answer a few questions and presto! I would have a purpose in life. Sounds funny? Well, if you are me, you believe Oprah can do anything, including give you a quiz and you find out how your life will turn out at the end of the hour-show.

So I sat on the edge of my seat when Oprah came on and I watched with every ounce of my energy as Oprah introduced this book, A New Earth, Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose.

Honestly, I don’t remember much about the show now, three years later. But whatever she said, I bought it – the book and whatever she said was going to happen after I read it. Not only that, she had these web-casts that I downloaded every week and listen to them as I walked around my local park trail. I talked to anyone who would listen (or even half way listen) about the book.

A New Earth wasn’t a quiz and the answer to my life’s purpose wasn’t as simple as handing me over a “job” and saying this is what you need to do with your life. I didn’t get what I had hoped for when I first heard the tease of the show.

What I did get though, is a new lease on my life. I grew up in a world that told me God was a big man in the clouds sitting over me, judging my every move. He was Santa Clause on steroids – “You better watch out”! 

 As I grew up, I grew into a more mature belief system, I didn’t feel quite so judged by “the man upstairs,” but I didn’t feel un-judged either. God was still somewhere “up there.”

What A New Earth introduced to me is the concept that God is “out there,” but God is also in me. A part of me. God is in everyone and is everywhere and connects all of the universe. We are all a part of God.

For some reason, even though there was much more in the book, this message of God being inside of me struck a cord and made me want to know more. A lot more.

I not only read A New Earth, I also read another of Tolle’s books, The Power of Now. Both books have the same information, but The Power of Now was more in depth about what A New Earth was also centered on, the present moment.

The present moment, the here and now, is the cornerstone of just about every spiritual philosophy there is. Many, non-spiritual, parenting books also have this message as a foundation of good parenting skills. Be there, now, for your children. Stop doing and stop thinking about doing and be present with your children, even if it is for 15 minutes a day, they all say.

After Tolle, I picked up another author, who is still one of my favorites, Alan Seale. He wrote a book called Intuitive Living that really spoke to me. In this book I learned about the body’s seven energy centers, or Chakras. He beautifully explained what each center means, and the peace that comes when the centers are in alignment. He also has a meditation CD, which I ordered and began to meditate to.

Well, I tried to meditate to, because I had a one year old baby and a three year old. And meditating at home was not so easy. Still isn’t.

One day I was driving by a metaphysical bookstore for the millionth time in the five years I had been living at my house. I probably passed that store 10 times a day for five years. Suddenly it hit me. That is where I need to be meditating! I started going on Saturdays. Later I went on Saturdays and on Thursdays. And I still go to this day. I love that store and those meditations as sure as any church-going person loves their church and their preacher. It’s my spiritual home.

And as I got more into meditation, I also read more books. In fact, when I am not reading a spiritual book of some kind, I just don’t feel like I’m living. I have probably 70 books dealing with different spiritual philosophies on my shelf and that’s not including my Kindle books. No, I haven’t read all of them, but a lot of them I have read.

I might, eventually, read them all. But that might be hard. I add books all the time. Recommendations, books I find at Good Will, books that get five stars on Amazon from hundreds of people. Friends give me books. I love to know what other people think about God. I appreciate all religions and I can’t think of a better way to spend a quiet moment – in the coffee shop, reflecting, and reading. Then meditating and writing about what I’ve learned. Maybe one day my vision of a book will be reality. But for now, my blog makes my heart sing with joy. And that is good for my soul.
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Finders Weepers?

Posted on October 21, 2011 by JKW

At a school festival last weekend I found $4. To some, this may have been thought of as their lucky day, but for me it’s not so lucky. I detest the burden of found money. And here is why: when I was in college I had a string of incidences where I was faced with taking the money and running or giving it back, and I always failed the “test.” Always.

For example, I used a laundry-mat in college and I needed quarters for the machines. I gave the man a $10 bill and he gave me $20 in quarters. I saw what he did, but I kept my mouth closed and did a silent, but in-my-head loud, “Whoo Hooo”! Extra beer money that night.
Another time, I was at the Waffle House after-hours and I went to the restroom where I found a wallet sitting on the sink. I opened it up and there was a wad of cash. There was a knock on the door, a woman frantic, and I knew it was the owner of said wallet. What did I do? I took some of the cash and stuffed it in my pocket and left some – I wasn’t completely heartless, plus she might see that emptiness and come after me.
I could go on, but you might not think so highly of me if I did and this might be a much longer post than I intend to make it. So needless to say, I wasn’t the most honest person in my youth.
But somewhere along the way I decided and said out loud, to whom ever might hear me, I was not going to be dishonest anymore. If someone gave me too much money, I would return it. And if there was a wallet stuffed with cash, it would not be me that did the taking; I would be giving it back.
And don’t think I wasn’t tested on my new promise, because I was. Shortly after, I went to Belk’s in Macon and the lady did not charge me for a shirt I was purchasing, and I didn’t realize it until I got home. In my new state I had to take it back and tell them. So that is what I did.
That’s not the only thing. There have been many, many incidences. Although I notice that as I give back the monies I would have collected, these situations occur less often. A recent example might be having both kids in tow and accidentally forgetting to ring something up in the self-checkout line. I go back. Even if it means I have to go through the torture of having the kids beg me for quarters for those damned (language necessary) gumball machines in the area where you leave the store and the carts are parked.
Even today, when I find money, I think of it as a kind of test to my promise made so many years ago. It’s effort finding money on the ground because I have to decide what to do. “Finders keepers, losers weepers” just won’t work because someone in my scenario is weeping and that is what I see in my mind.
I also should say, if you are a person that considers yourself lucky to find money, I am not judging your integrity. This is about my own dishonesty as a younger self and the image that I hold for that younger self. It’s more than found money, it was keeping something that was not mine, therefore now I keep nothing that I do not consider “mine.”
So, I found the $4 and I had to do something with it. I decided the best course of action would be to donate the money. And it just so happens that my local coffee shop, where I spend a good bit of time reading and drinking mochas, has a collection going for breast cancer month. It also happens that two of my mom’s sisters, my aunts, have had breast cancer and survived it. So this is a cause near and dear to my heart.
On my way to meet Hubby for dinner, after meditation that evening (on the same day I found the money), I passed the coffee shop. I decided I would swing in and donate that money right then.
I parked the car, ran in, threw the donation into the big clear vase with a pink ribbon drawn on it, and I ran back to my car. I put the key in the ignition and…. nothing. The car would not start. Again. No start. Again. No start. In fact, that car never did start and Hubby had to come pick me up. I also came home that night to find my daughter sick. She was so sick I decided to take her to the after-hours pediatrician the next morning.
As I look for a lesson here, I realize that just because I am “good” and I do, what I reason, to be the “right thing,” it doesn’t mean I am immune to the tribulations of life. See, I don’t think God (or the Universe) gives us “good luck” for being a “good” person. It’s just not necessary. We are who we are based on our own truth. What might be a burden to me, like finding money, might be a Godsend to someone in dire need of extra cash, like $4 to buy a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter because they are out of a job and the kids were going to go hungry that night.
It is not up to me to judge a situation as good or bad, but to do what I need to do for my own spirit. And that is what I did. I felt great donating the money. Even with my car sitting in the coffee shop parking lot overnight and my daughter throwing up all night long starting at midnight. My body might have been very tired, but my spirit was satisfied.
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A Cause for Thanks – Letters to our Military

Posted on October 13, 2011 by JKW

You can count me in for most any worthy cause that involves writing. That’s why yesterday when I heard on The Bert Show on Q100 that they are doing a project called The Bert Show’s Big Thank You, I hopped on the wagon.

For Thanksgiving, they are working to put a letter of gratitude in the hands of every single soldier stationed or deployed outside the United States. The goal is 400,000 hand-written letters.

They have a mail in location, or drop off locations. My letter is below, typed. I hand-wrote it for mailing in to the radio station. A paragraph is plenty – I’m wordy by nature and I can’t help it, so mine was a tad long.

If you have five minutes and a stamp, please join this cause to show compassion and kindness to someone who could be seeing death and tragedy on a daily basis. A letter written with love can be felt no matter what it says. 

The link to the Q100 Website is: http://thebertshow.com/the-bert-shows-big-thank-you/

They are receiving letters until October 28.

Main Mail-In Location: The Bert Show’s Big Thank You
780 Johnson Ferry Road NE
Fifth Floor
Atlanta, GA 30342

My Letter:

Dear Bravest Heart,

I can’t imagine what it feels like to be so far away from home and family. I hope a story I have to tell you will help bring a smile to your face.

When I sent my three year old (who is now six) to his first pre-school class he was extremely nervous. Extreme isn’t strong enough for this child – I mean he had terrible separation anxiety.

In hopes that he would not feel so alone, I told him that we are mother and son, which means we are always together, attached by heart strings.

He said, “What are heart strings?”

“Heart strings are what connect two people, so that even if it seems like we are not together, the truth is that we are always connected, no matter where we are, by our heart strings,” I explained.

“Where are they?” he asked.

I drew a line with my finger from the point in the middle of my chest to the middle of his and said, “Can you see it?”

“No.”
“Well, it’s there. It has to be really thin and flexible and able to let other people pass through, but it can never, ever be broken. No matter what.”

He went to school and did just fine after the initial tears.

When he got in to the car after his day he asked me, “Mom, did you feel your heart string today?”

“Yes, I did. You were tugging on my heart all day long. And it felt really good.” I told him.

I hope you know how much your family misses you and how no matter where you are your heart strings are as strong as ever.

Be safe,
 Jennifer Webb
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The Best Three Minutes of My Day

Posted on October 8, 2011 by JKW

In the past, when writing about meditation in my posts, I cite my favorite meeting place – my local metaphysical bookstore, Phoenix and Dragon. Oh, how I do love my group meditations. I have been attending those sessions for over two years now and I don’t think I could go without them. They are a retreat from my life. A place to just sit and be.

As wonderful as those gatherings are to me, I have a hard time convincing others of the power meditation holds for a healthier mind, body and, of course, soul or spirit. When I mention joining me for meditation, most people politely decline and usually say something to the effect of, “I can’t keep my mind from thinking.”

But, meditation is not meant to make a person not think. It is meant to help someone to see those thoughts for what they are: thoughts. Fleeting, scattering, blowing with the wind, thoughts. Like clouds, they float in, they stay for a matter of seconds, and they are gone again. Forever changing.

I do get it that sitting in meditation in a room full of other people for an hour may not be for everyone.

The reason I do it is because it gives me the time to just go within myself. I feel my shoulders (the place I hold the most stress) going down, down, down with each relaxing, focused breath; and, I like to be in a room where others are releasing their stress and feeling worries and cares drifting away, even if it is just for one hour.

To those who do not mediate, an hour may seem long. But what if the sitting wasn’t for an hour? What if it were just three minutes?

Today, I am reading a book called Positive Energy, 10 Extraordinary Prescriptions for Transforming Fatigue, Stress and Fear into Vibrance, Strength and Love by Judith Orloff, M.D.

The title is what grabbed me. Who can’t use more vibrance, strength and love and less fatigue, stress and fear?

Orloff is an Energy Psychiatrist. People go to her because they are feeling fatigued, depressed and generally stressed in their daily lives. And I’m thinking if they just want a medicine to take care of what ails them, they are out of luck. I would be shocked if she even had one of those pads in her office, based on what I am reading. She requires people to change their lives rather than just get a script and do a bit of talking.

In her book, one “prescription” is to find a nurturing spiritual path. Under that heading is a step to “discovering the power of meditation.”

Under the power of meditation is an exercise: Open Your Heart with This Three-Minute (Only) Mini-Meditation

Here is how it works:

·         Settle down in a peaceful place. Separate yourself from distractions.

·         Get quiet. Relax your body. Slowly inhale. Then exhale.

·         Gently rest your palm on the area over your heart energy center, or chakra. This area is about two inches in diameter, located in the mid-chest. (The physical heart is to its left). According to Orloff, opening your heart will nourish you and replenish your energy.

·         Concentrate on a person, place, song, or memory you cherish. You may want to start with nature. The purpose is to feel love in a general sense, then specifically concentrate on the hand in the middle of your chest.

·         Visualize any thoughts as clouds drifting in the sky. Try to see the thoughts as outside of yourself – something you can let pass.

·         Observe the sensations in your heart center, where your hand is resting. Concentrate on the feeling you feel there – heat, coolness, tingling, vibration, expansion, bliss, pressure releasing, compassion. Calmness.

·         Do this for only three minutes. Set a timer to go off after three minutes. I’ve tried it and I would not be writing this post if it didn’t work for me. It is rejuvenating and calming at the same time.

Orloff explains, for this meditation a serene setting is ideal, but it is supposed to be a portable meditation. This is a technique you can do in a park or in an airport. She says to forget formality. Close your eyes, put your hand on your heart and go for it.

On the days when there is no group meditation to attend and my house has people in it (which seems like always), the thought of a three minute meditation making a difference in my demeanor is attractive, particularly at my “witching hour” around 4 or 5 in the afternoon. This is the time I might start reaching for the chocolate.

And it’s not just me. Everyone in the house seems to melt down around then. The house becomes a mix of all of our energies that sometimes do not jive together. It’s easy to end up tense.

For instance, my son might be karate chopping at my daughter for the one hundredth time in a two hour period, meaning I have been listening to my daughter scream to the top of her lungs one hundred times in response.

It is at this time I feel a physical change in my body and in my mind. My shoulders are up to my ears and my tolerance for all things child-like is waning. That big wrinkle on my forehead right between my eyes starts to cave in and I might even yell rather loudly that if anybody touches anybody again and if anyone screams again that they will see mommy’s head pop off. I ask them, “Do you want to see mommy’s head pop off?” 

Enter three minutes. I can do three minutes. I notice if I can meditate, even for a small amount of time, I can see things for what they are – my two tired babies just trying to let everyone know how they feel.

I can also shield myself in one minute with an imagined white light. I can breath out imagined black, negative energy and breath in white positive energy. I can say a mantra like, “This too shall pass.” Because the truth is that these times are short lived. They do pass. They are just thoughts, emotions, clouds even. The tense feeling is not my heart, nor my intention.

I do love that the three minute mini-meditation is meant to connect to the one place that I want all of my actions to come from, the heart. Because that’s where so much of my life resides, with love, in my heart.

Resource:

Positive Energy, 10 Extraordinary Prescriptions for Transforming Fatigue, Stress & Fear into Vibrance, Strength & Love. The Second Prescription, Find a Nurturing Spiritual Path. Page 66. Open Your Heart With This Three-Minute (Only) Mini-Meditation.
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Friendship is a Beautiful Thing

Posted on September 15, 2011 by JKW

I have a best friend named Monti. We have been friends for… hmmmm…. probably 15 years? Maybe more. If we choose people to be in our life that are our mirrors (like the old saying, birds of a feather flock together) then I really, really love myself! And even more so today.

Here’s why today. Monti had a friend named Jonni. In all the time I have known Monti I have never heard of Jonni until a few months ago. She didn’t call to tell me, but in casual conversation I asked Monti to join me to do something on a Friday morning – coffee or something. Monti said, “I can’t. On Friday I go to Jonni’s.”

I said, “Jonni who (or is it whom)?”

Monti replied, “One of my friends from years back has cancer (at 38 years old) and she is in hospice and I go to her on Fridays and hang out. I watch movies and talk to her and just sit there when she is sleeping.”

Monti could not see my jaw drop, but that’s what it did. I had no idea she had been spending her Fridays like this. Monti wasn’t just sitting with her either. She was lying in the bed with her. Stroking her hair. Making sure Jonni felt the love that Monti was feeling for her.

Jonni died yesterday. At the conclusion, even Jonni’s mom had a hard time handling her daughter’s anger and drug-induced words, but not Monti. She took it all and turned it into love. That’s my friend. Monti started going every day. Every time she was needed. When no one else was there, Monti was. Until the very end, yesterday.

I tell you, after I visited Hospice Atlanta a while back (see post: John Serrie, a musician and so much more), I know it takes a special person to do hospice work. You have to be able to separate yourself from the dying person enough to still let that person have hope – all the way until the end. When you talk to people dying, many do not ever give up the hope of getting better. Even in hospice, they still cling to life so many times, up until the time of death.

Not only do I feel in awe of what Monti has done for Jonni, but I feel so safe and grateful knowing I have a friend of this caliber. If I were to get sick tomorrow, I know she would be there with me, no matter what it takes. This is such a gift.

And this is not the only gift Monti has given me in my time knowing her. Besides the talks, her sense of humor so much like my own, her willingness to be present for me, she also gave me my “Baby Bestie,” Suzanne.

Suzanne and Monti are also besties.

It so happened that Suzanne and I became pregnant at the same time with our sons. Towards the end of my pregnancy, Monti asked me to go to lunch with she and Suzanne – since we were both pregnant and all.  Of course I agreed. Who could pass up a chance to sit with another pregnant woman and complain about the discomfort?

We met, and Suzanne and I discovered that our due dates were just two weeks apart. I immediately fell in love with her personality – light, airy and fun. But still able to complain with me, which is a really nice trait if you are pregnant and your husband is probably sick of hearing it and no one else cares anymore, and you feel like they don’t understand anyway.

Not long after our sons were born exactly two weeks apart, we started getting together with our kids. And, eventually we started to get together without them for a little mommy-fun. As they grew we grew in our friendship.

When the boys were 13 months old, I became pregnant with my daughter. And Suzanne did too! And she had a girl, just five months younger than my girl, Jesse.

Now it has been six years. Sometimes I know Monti feels left out of the trio that she created. She does not have children – well, human children, Ollie is her baby dog.

Suzanne and I talk daily. We take trips together. Our families are close. I call her my children’s “second mommy” because that is what she is to them. They ask every day to go to her house or to have her kids over here – her kids that I love like they are mine.

She is my lifeline to surviving motherhood. And I think I would really be (more) insane without her. She is my go-to person on all things mommy, and all things about being a woman too. She is my anchor and my kite at the same time.

As a kite, she gives me and my kids something I can’t give. She has a “why not” attitude towards life. When I say, “Oh, I just don’t want to get in the pool because I don’t want to get wet.” She says, “Why not?”

She’s like that, always ready to take the plunge and have a good time. And I tend to say no before I am able to say, why not?

She picks up lizards and isn’t scared of bugs. She shows my kids a world with no fear of nature. And no fear of just being herself. She accepts herself wholly and by her example helps me to accept myself too.

We talk, we laugh, we discuss motherhood and being married women. We are so much alike, but different enough to have something to offer to the other.

I would not be the mother I am without her.

I’m not sure Monti will ever fully understand the gift she gave me when she invited me to lunch that day.

I feel so happy to have the friends that have been put into my life. Friendship really is a beautiful thing – without this bond life would not be as rich or as fun.

For me, these friendships are a lesson in the Golden Rule. About being the kind of person I want to attract in my life. If it is true that we can look at those around those in our life as a mirror, then I know I am doing just fine.

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Nothing is Permanent, Everything Changes

Posted on September 12, 2011 by JKW

A child’s growth can be compared to a flower blooming. Starting off closed and opening day by day. But sometimes that growth feels like one of those clown flowers, where when you try and get a whiff of something beautiful you get water squirted up your nose.

I say this because I’m not quite sure how to feel lately where my son is concerned. He is growing at warp speed. This is a child that slept in my bed until he was almost three.
Then he moved to a fire truck toddler-bed that was located right beside my bed. If I needed to go pee in the night I had to scoot down to the end of my bed to get out. After that he moved into a twin bed on the other side of my room – he was five.
He will be six in November. On Labor Day I was folding clothes (trying to catch up on “the mountain”), and he came in the room and said, “Why is my dresser not in my room?”
I replied, “Because your room is my room and there isn’t enough room for the dresser in there.”
He said, “I think I want to move my room in here where my dresser is. I want to move to this room today.”
My pulse quickened, my heart leapt for joy. As fast as lightening I stripped the pretty comforter off the bed and threw it in the closet. I undressed the pillow shams and chunked those too. I grabbed the nearest stack of clean sheets for this bed and threw them on. Next I sprinted to his room and got his Spiderman blanket to make the bed manly. Five minutes is all it took and he was in a new bed.
Next we stripped the walls of the Mickey Mouse wall decals I had given him when he was three as a way to try and lure him into this room.
This was the day I had been waiting for – the day Hubby and I got our bedroom back. (Isn’t there a country song out there about this? If not, I think there should be.)
Just to insure his decision, we moved his bed into his sister’s room and replaced the Spiderman sheets with Tinkerbell. There was no going back now – he would never sleep in that bed after it had Tinkerbell in it.
So that was it, right? He’s in his own room now. Oh, happy day!
As cheerful as I had started out and as much as I had wished for this, that night when I went to bed I felt a little empty inside. I looked over at where his bed had been just a couple of hours before we moved it to my daughter’s room and felt like crying. He was gone to his own room. My baby. Suddenly I thought about how we threw those Mickey Mouse stickers away earlier and I wished I would have savored the moment more.
Those stickers were his babyhood gone – in the trash, to a field I would never get to visit again. I relived the moment he and I worked together to decorate the walls of that room with his then favorite character, Mickey Mouse. He even put the decal of Mickey turning off the light switch beside the switch on the wall. I remember feeling like he was a smart boy for thinking of that.
His decision to move to his room had me taking a walk down memory lane, through his childhood that seems to be going so fast these days.
To make matters even more disconcerting, my baby-bestie, Suzanne, called on Saturday and asked if Nathan could have a sleep-over with her son. I said, “Sure, if Nathan will do it.” I never in a million years thought he would really do it.
But guess what? He did it. He went over there and slept at their house and I didn’t go get him until 10:30 the next morning. At least he admitted he slept kind of bad and he was a little afraid. But still, he faced his fear and he did it.
He spent the night away from me. I wasn’t in his bed while he fell asleep. I wasn’t even in his room or in the same house. This was a first – he has never even stayed at any grandparents’ houses without me.
Where did all this independence suddenly come from? It started with doing car pool at school for the first time, to moving into a room of his own, and now a sleep over – all in less than a month. What’s next? He won’t want me to lie in his bed until he goes to sleep at night?
I’m finding motherhood to be a big bag of feelings that are hard to get a handle on. One minute I want my freedom, but I feel something akin to loneliness once I get it. I want him to grow up then I wonder what happened to my baby.
My consolation? I have two. My daughter still cried like crazy for me when I left her at school this morning. I felt bad about her being so sad, but somewhere deep inside I felt like I still have one baby left – until I start to see that even with my baby girl, I am one minute smelling roses and the next minute it’s a big laugh, a squirt in the nose, at how I want my precious, dependent babies back.
I guess kids’ growth is a lesson in the process of life. How nothing ever stays the same, everything changes. I have told this lesson to my children many times, like when a block tower falls, I say, “It’s OK. Nothing is permanent. Things always change.”
I never thought about it pertaining to my children growing and maturing though. And in my new-motherhood mind I thought I would be so happy to have more freedom. And I am. But I didn’t think of the duality of those feelings. How I could be happy for the growth and sad at the same time.

I guess this is what grandkids are for, right? We’ll see…

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God Is Like a Sunrise

Posted on August 24, 2011 by JKW

God is like a sunrise.

Shining rays fill the sky. Colors of red, purple, pink, and gold illuminate a magical force called Life.


The change is subtle, but constant as the sun rises higher in the sky. Like life, it is in a constant state of movement. Nothing ever stays the same, and the colors never repeat themselves exactly.

God is like a sunrise.

Its rays reaching far and wide. Touching everything. Connecting every particle. Connection that can’t be seen and can only be felt by stillness.

Move and the wind penetrates the moment. Eyes close and the sun can be felt deeper than deep. Seen through the eyelids and piercing every pore of skin.

 Flying rays touch and bounce and connect.

We are all connected, all of mankind, to one another, to nature, to the eternal depth of man and creator.

Be still, you are part of God, and God is part of you. God is part of your neighbor. God is part of your enemy. If we are all God-like, then treating one another with compassion should be easy. Treat others as you would treat your creator.


God is like a sunrise.

Lighting up the world one minute at a time, making sure to touch us all. Just as the sun takes its time to make an entrance, so some take time to reach God. But the creator is always there, like the sun.

Like the heat the sun leaves behind on a hot day, the Creator is forever in each part of the Universe, there for you.

Just ask, believe, conjure your truth and it will be there. It’s waiting for you.

God is like a sunny day.

 A flower blooms under its spell. A baby bird calls out and its mom knows what the baby calls for – a whisper from an instinct born to her long, long ago.

 A feeling in the soul says something. Listen. Can you hear it? Go with it. Brace nothing against what you tell yourself. If it is negative talk, say this word, “EGO” and move past.

 If it is a prompting, a whisper, getting louder; a move towards becoming a better you – move quickly, without haste. It’s your instinct. It’s your soul. It’s God.

 God is like a sunny day.

 A buzzing bee stops to gather pollen, so that all flowers may bloom and life and love march further on.

Nature knows love. Gathering things breeds more things. Gathering knowledge breeds more knowledge. Gathering love, breeds more love.

Decide what you want to gather and be good at it. But make sure in the end, it was worth gathering. Decide before you gather, that it is worthy of gathering.

Knowledge is not bad, nor things. But love? Love will always reign supreme.

God is like a sunset.

A dipping sun, like a performer bowing at the end of an emotional performance, gives one last smile before saying goodnight, allowing the moon to shine the sun’s light back to earth.

The ego omitted, the sun has no issue with the moon shining its light in the night. Pulling the tides to and fro. Helping guide the darkness along to see another day come, shining and bright.

Even behind the clouds, the sun shines bright.
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My, What a Difference a Week Makes

Posted on August 19, 2011 by JKW

Summer “break” is close to a close for me. I still have my daughter home until after Labor Day, after that, she’s in Pre-K. But, today marks the end of the first week of Kindergarten for my son. He has progressed so much more nicely than I expected. And this has me calling into question my sensitivity to his “needs.” Or what I think are his needs.

For example, he was in Pre-K at a private school for his first two years of “school.” He was so afraid to be dropped in the car-pool line that I relented and walked him into class every day for two years. Every day. Not only did I walk him in, I held his hand and made sure he was “OK” before I left. Being OK for him meant that the teacher made eye contact, said Hello, and invited him to sit next to her. His first year of Pre-K, his teacher said every day, Hello my special friend. Come sit next to me. (I still love that woman.)

Maybe kindergarten is a good time for him to grow up a bit, or maybe he could have been “bigger” faster. I’m not sure. No matter. What I have witnessed this week is this:

Day 1: I walked him into the class room. He cried.
He said he might cry, so I wasn’t surprised. My response was that he could cry, but chasing me from the room, as he has done in the past, is off limits. He is not allowed to do that anymore! He is also not allowed to pull my hair when he can’t find anything else to grab.

Day 2: I walked him to the class room door. He cried, but less.

Day 3: I walked him to the front of the building. He walked off, turned around and came back. Walked again, turned again. Walked again, turned again and said, Mom, can you just leave when I turn around again? Then he walked into the building as I quickly walked away.

Now it was my turn to cry. He did it!  Something I thought he was incapable of – he really walked himself to the classroom all on his own. He entered the room without me by his side. We are talking milestone here (for me and my son).

Day 4: Next accomplishment, Car-pool drop-off line. He got a little teary, gave me a hug and got out.

Day 5 (today): Car-pool, no problem. He’s a pro. No tears, unless you count mine again, but they were happy tears. Happy to see him feeling confident in himself. Happy to see him allow himself the independence to find his own way, without fear.

Now if I can just get my daughter to do this when she starts in a couple of weeks. At a mere four years old, she will have to grow up faster than her brother. At their new school, car-pool is a requirement, not an option. Even in preschool. Something tells me she can do it, and now, after watching my “baby” boy grow up so fast this week, so can I.
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Telling Shoes

Posted on June 29, 2011 by JKW
My summer is going alright. I’m sane, most of the time. I mentioned before in my post (see post: Summer Joy) that it is not much of a break for me. You might even wonder how I am posting twice in one day. You might have noticed that I have not posted in a while. I have been writing though – in my head. So much in my head. I have been telling you all kinds of things. Sometimes when I think, especially when I am going to sleep at night, my thoughts come out as “articles.”
They are long too. I mean, I can write a whole piece in my head. When I try to stop it, I can’t. I love to write. I love to tell you things. It’s in my blood I guess. But these days finding the time to put it down is not easy.
One night, I wrote a great piece about shoes. About how if you read in just about any book about poverty, fiction or non, you will find that the feet are often mentioned as a barometer of how poor the person really is.
The fact that a person might or might not own a pair of shoes is usually stated. Or that a character’s feet are swollen, red and in terrible condition because they don’t have shoes due to poverty. Soldiers in battles most often have wet socks (if they are lucky enough to have socks) because their shoes have holes. Much of the time they are walking in snow too, so the feet are cold.
Poor rural southerners go to school barefooted while the super-wealthy kids’ shoes are clean, white and shiny. In Asian books, foot-binding is a way to tell if the girl is wealthy; no binding, no money.
I once watched an episode of Oprah where she was in Africa giving the kids there presents for Christmas. They were happy with the dolls and footballs, but when she gave them each a pair of Nikes they went berserk. It was appreciation gone wild.
Shoes are a window to prosperity. If you ever feel like you have nothing, look in your closet. Do you have shoes? Then chances are you have much more than you think.
And why am I posting twice today? I have a babysitter! A bona-fide babysitter. I even allowed her to take my children out and about so I could have time at home today, alone. It’s great, this time. I am grateful. I’m grateful for my shoes too, all 26 pairs of them.
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