Protect your eyes

"The question is not what you look at, but what you see." -Thoreau

With parenting I find it's never the stuff I plan to be rewarding, fulfilling, or fun that actually is so. The cute Easter photo I plan for every year of the kids in their finery is a total flop with no one looking at the camera and chocolate stains running down Flynn's shirt. The unique dining experience at an ethnic restaurant is disastrous from start to finish full of whines and pulled faces, and in the end, hungry tummies. The surprise trip to a restaurant to get breakfast in their pj's freaks my kids out and makes them feel self conscious like they've been seen naked by thousands. Like most things in life the stuff that evolves naturally tends to be what's most awesome and authentic.

I was downloading some photos off our camera tonight and ended up entranced looking at the literally hundreds of photos Cleo has taken over the past couple weeks. She's been really interested in the camera lately and we've given her free reign with it. I'm so glad we did because the kids got an eye! Her photos capture a world I can't see that much of anymore; a world where every single thing is worth looking at. Call it the curse of adulthood this inability to truly see. The whole lot of Cleo's shots capture the completely mundane. There are almost no posed or even composed shots, just snip snapping away at everything that surrounds her without regard to some hierarchy of what image/thing/view is of value or prettier or more worth capturing. Car decals, her hand, cracks in the pavement, fabrics, the back of my head, city views...nothing is edited out and because of this the shots tell such a great story.

One of the central tenants of physics is that by observing something it necessarily changes that which is being observed. I felt that interplay in looking at Cleo's shots. By her singling out these random, mundane moments and objects of life and capturing them in a photo, she changed them, distilled them into art or memory or something altogether more, something that made me feel a connection to her, and to a child's world view. It was refreshing to retreat back to that place of easy awe. That's another uncanny truism of parenting in my experience...kids will always teach you the bigger lesson, not vice versa! So enjoy these photos. They are original Cleo Louise Harbertsons...and you'd better believe I'm keeping them.

W-o-r-k

I'm always grateful when I recognize layers aligning in life. The universe works hard to spell things out doesn't it? Since I'm gearing up for an entrepreneurial chapter in my life and starting my own business, I've been giving a lot of thought to the meaning of work. There are so many nuggets of wisdom out there that indicate that work won't be capital letter WORK if you are doing what you love or following what you are passionate about. I believe this and yet so few people I know seem to approach building their careers from this framework. The responsibilities of daily life, the educational paths we set ourselves on at an early age when our sense of self and the big picture is haphazard and fledgling, and the expectations we all have about standards of living seem to interfere. And lord knows many, many people never can identify or sum up their life's passion--too much soul searching involved! Too much risk!

So it was a relief to me when I happened to hear a nugget of wisdom about work recently that really resonated with me. Work= Worth. It's so simple, but most truths are. What I outwardly do in this world defines me, gives me my sense of self and the world's sense of what I bring to the table. It's my personal GNP. We live in a culture obsessed with this and I think it's why work that is hard to quantify such as motherhood or teaching receives so little attention. (Both are such broad investments, it's hard to see immediate results.)

Boiling the word work down to how I feel about what I do with myself is a lovely concept. Because truly it is larger than a paycheck or a certificate on the wall. My work on its best day should help me walk a path I want to be on. It should be urging me on toward discovery, toward goals, toward becoming more, toward helping myself, my family, and my community. And I think it's worth digging deep on this subject since for most of us work will make up a large majority of how we spend our lifetime. Literally work will take a lion's share of my life. Wow.

The Indian concept of dharma came up in something I was reading recently. In it dharma was described as the one thing you were born on this earth to do that you can do better than anyone else. It's the belief that every single human has something special, has a talent, a way of being, that is unique to them. If one can discover their dharma then they will find satisfaction, success, wealth, and end up helping others by following it. I guess it's akin to a life's calling. I love thinking about making dharma and work synonymous in my life. My dharma should lead me to my work and my work should lead to my dharma.

Living in a culture obsessed with material wealth is a definite hinderance to realizing work-dharma but I also think living in a culture that defines work as something we must do, or something we have to do to make ends meet is equally to blame. As an American I've connected with the ethos of the hard working man and the 80 hour work weeks required to "make things happen", to get the big pay day. These type of standards have led me to some belief that to be successful one must work hard at everything. Toil, sacrifice, labor these are the descriptor words I associate with work. And yet why do we need to have this hard work consciousness? What is the value in this? To me working too hard also means forcing an issue. No bend and flow, no flexibility. It strains. It imbalances. It is frought.

I have to believe that the dharma concept could make work seem effortless because I would be in alignment with what I do best, what I'm capable of doing almost without thinking. It's quite counter-intuitive to our Horatio Alger, pull yourself up by the bootstraps mythology, but I think there is something that rings true here.

Am I crazy? Probably. And lest my uber hard working grandmother be turning over in her grave, let's be clear that I'm not advocating laziness. Quite the opposite. What could be more galvanizing than the belief that simply by figuring out who you really are, you have figured out what you should do with your fine self. I'm not naive, I realize how inexplicably hard it is to take this stance in developing a career, and an entire life really. But ooo-eee wouldn't it be powerful if we all did so? Finding work that makes you feel your own worth-it's not an easy task by any stretch, but it's the kind of career I'd love to spend a lifetime in.

No nincompoops allowed!

I've had responsibility on the brain today. Awhile ago when I was at my lovely friend Sarah's I was struck by a sign she posted on her family's bulletin board.

"RESPONSIBILITY. Anything children can do for themselves and we do it for them, takes away an opportunity for them to discover how responsibility serves them."

I think this statement hit me because I so immediately believed its truth but also because I recognized how little I was following this in my own home. My children are now 7 and 3 1/2. They still have desperate moments of neediness but also increasing stretches of self-sufficiency where they are content to follow their own whims and desires without much of my influence. As a parent its a relief to be at this stage, to have a moment to breathe and to get to reap the benefits of all those days of nonstop attention.

And yet I find that a parental wean is now required on my part...those bare bones days of sustenance and constant need meeting may be past, but left in it's wake is a habit that makes me jump to fulfill their requests and wants. From the simplest yell up the stairs for a drink of water to cleaning up dirty dishes, crumbs, and playdough, I've done my kids no favors by being quick to do these things for them. It's not an accurate picture of life's demands and it certainly isn't an accurate picture of how I want them to function as older children and future adults. Every parent imagines their kid reaching for the stars, climbing toward future success and happiness. I never picture my kid calling me to wipe his ass at 12. And yet if I don't start requiring more of them now when they are fledglings, then how will the desire, the need, or the know how materialize when they are older?

We live in an ultra convenient world. And it's more than likely that all these conveniences and gadgetry are making today's children less than able to do for themselves. In fact I read a great op-ed piece awhile back called "Are we Raising a Generation of Nincompoops?" that brings these exact concerns up. I truly worry that my 7 year old really doesn't know how to tie her own shoes yet and that much of her life is experienced with the aid of a virtual interface. It is such a good reminder that I don't need to be another interface for my kids preventing them from having raw, hands on experiences that can be both rewarding and trying for them. There are enough avenues making their lives easier. I really don't need to make home life ultra convenient for them too.

I'm a believer that one of the best aspects of being part of a family is contributing to that family in whatever way I can. Contributing is a beautiful word to me because it implies an individual putting forth something towards a common purpose, to in effect become part of the larger whole. In my desire to be loving and attentive I haven't given my kids enough opportunities to become part of the larger whole. So I've vowed to make a change and have officially instituted a new weekly chore list that will earn my darlings a teenie weenie allowance. I instituted the plan this weekend and the new lists are on the fridge and already pock marked with check marks. I'm also going to consciously respond less to their demands-not ignoring mind you, but a loving "I think you can handle that" quip.

Happily I didn't feel much friction from either Cleo or Flynn about the new regime. I actually think they want increased responsibility. It's easy to forget as parents that kids (at least the young ones) actually do aim to please. Cleo already "invented" a new chicken egg collecting system and judging by the gusto with which Flynn can smooth a bedspread, I think I've got a little emerging neat freak on my hands. The true test will be mine, whether I can bite my tongue and my urge to jump in and respond in order to nurture the kind of self sufficiency that will take them into reality not kicking and screaming and apathetic, but already contributing, already full of life skills and esteem. I love to think what a future made up of those kids would look like...

Modern Pioneer

"There is a charm, even for homely things, in perfect maintenance." -Louis Auchincloss

I spent a lot of my weekend reclaiming my home. It seems that increasing busy-ness without hiring a cleaning person or someone else to pull my old weight equals disaster on the home front! Every single realm in my home dominion has been out of whack since the holidays. The laundry has been a continuous pile either on the dirty or the to be put away side. My fridge was emitting strange odors. The pantry was a pile of unorganized goods, my floors all had telltale crumbs from lack of vacuuming, and my car was looking like salt stain was the chosen paint color. It was all contributing to a level of disorganization that was making me internally grumpy and out of whack. Outer calm reflects inner peace right?

Every day chores are easy to put on the back burner when other fires need to be put out. But I have to say it felt really nice to focus on my home and making it livable again. It made me feel a much needed sense of respect for what I have around me each and every day. Plenty literally oozes out of every drawer and cupboard and I think it's easy to not see the forest for the trees sometimes. I have talked about the concept of stewardship here before and it's something I truly believe in. I should act as the steward for the things I have, responsibly managing and caring for the immediate world around me right down to the oil in my car and the crumby carpet underfoot. It doesn't send a very good message to my children, or my commitment to the environment, if I let my "toys" and plenty pile up or break.

My recent lack of stewardship and home management was also feeling like a black eye thanks to the book I'm currently reading called The Egg and I. Set in the 1940s and written about that same time, it tells the story of the hilarious escapades of Betty MacDonald, who married a chicken farmer and moved to the middle of nowhere beneath the Cascade mountains on the coast of the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state. The book is a fun read thanks to the wit of the storyteller, but it also makes one mindful of just how much home improvement and conveniences have taken place since the farm days of the 40s. It makes me realize just how good I have it around my house, how absolutely doable housework and home management have become. I have so many time saving devices at my disposal. Washing machine, dishwasher, hot water to name a few! We have a leaky sink faucet in the kitchen right now and we've been turning off the water directly at the pipes under the sink until we fix it so we don't waste, and I found myself getting so annoyed with the hassle of having to lean down to switch it on to wash my hands or soak a dish....never mind the fact that this woman in my novel had to walk out in the pouring rain to pump herself a measly pail of freezing cold water! She then had to boil it pot by pot with a wood burning stove for any washing or bathing required. What is wrong with me?! How easy I have it peeing indoors and touching buttons to cook food, suck up dirt, wash and dry my clothes and dishes! I fear I would have made a terrible pioneer.

We do live in a more complex world in terms of other commitments and expectations-and I feel women particularly face this modern burden. Most of us are no longer one loaf of bread short of starving or one pair shy of wearing dirty underwear everyday. We have plenty to juggle. In the literal sense of the phrase. And I'm thinking in modern times that's more the appropriate definition of stewardship. Juggling the plenty, making it count and matter rather than shoving it in a closet or rusting in the yard unused. Today's home manager isn't up at 4 am letting rolls raise and hanging wash by the coals of the wood stove, but instead has to master time management both inside and outside the home and using the words I have enough. This role might not be as physically taxing or as linked to survival as the kind played by Betty MacDonald and the millions of other housewives and managers of the recent past, but I'm not so sure it isn't just as important to happiness and a sense of succeeding on the home front. Here on Summerhill Drive, I guess I am a modern pioneer.

(Above images from Corbis. com. Aren't they fantastic?)

Pep Talk

If you've been here awhile you may remember that every year I like to come up with some mantra that I would like to sum up the year ahead of me. It started with "kicking A" a few years back and progressed into just be better, then "keep your head on straight". I think I've finally settled on one for this new year. I have a lot of irons in the fire right now, so to speak. It is a huge time of transition for me personally, and I'd probably also say spiritually. The funny thing is that 2011 is also, according to numerologists and new age types, a year that represents a shift in focus and paradigm for the entire planet. We are collectively entering a new cycle of birth and growth. This idea registered with me because I'm feeling so much focus right now on creating and bringing about new growth in my own life and I sense that many of my peers are doing this too. The prediction feels right to me and it makes me extremely hopeful and excited about the year ahead for the whole lot of us out there in the world.

It takes a lot of energy to make things happen, to make life happen the way you'd like it to. I can't think of a more concrete symbol of energy than flame or fire. This is a year I'm going to need all the energy I can muster so I have decided 'STOKE IT UP' is my new mantra winner. It also makes me happy to use this phrase because it strikes a personal chord. My dad is the best fire master I know and I grew up with lots of family time around the fire and hearing "throw another log on the fire" and "stoke the fire, Alli", and now my kids regularly help do this job when they are at Grandpa's house. Anyway, this mantra feels really apt for the kind of life I want to lead in 2011. I love the word stoke and its inherent snowboarder-esque "I'm stoked" enthusiasm, but I also love that it's an action word. It is not passive; one cannot properly stoke sitting on one's ass, and that's what I need, what the world needs really, more action, less talk. A get 'er done sensibility.

I love to nerd out and watch those youtube videos showing chain reactions like this. It's impressive to see materially/physically the way one small action or movement can set a series of events in motion. It's the ripple, the domino effect at play. I can't help but believe that the choices I make in my life have this same effect on a larger whole. What I decide to do today makes tomorrow take shape. What I say to my children tomorrow effects what they will say to their children in 30 years. What I don't do or say can't ever happen, it can't ever become a ripple on the surface effecting the larger wave. It's nothing, a non-factor, and there's not much life in nothing as far as I can tell.

The truth of the matter is that we are all shaping our reality each minute of our lives. It suddenly feels very important to me to make the choice to stoke rather than to sit and watch and dream. I've done enough watching and waiting for now. I'm ready to fill a corner of the world with what I want to see.

All this self pep talkery makes me mindful of a wonderful quote by Goethe that is always at the top of my inspirato file...if this can't nudge to get in the zone of action, I don't know what can....

"I have come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element. It is my personal approach that creates the climate. It is my daily mood that makes the weather. I possess tremendous power to make life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration, I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis is escalated or de-escalated, and a person is humanized or de-humanized. If we treat people as they are, we make them worse. If we treat people as they ought to be, we help them become what they are capable of becoming."

STOKE IT UP!!

You say it's your birthday...

My oldest child is fast approaching her 7th birthday. Next week I will have a 7 year old daughter! I find it rather shocking since that means I've been parenting, been MOM, for all that time; I've been on the clock and basically responsive and responsible for 2,555 days! It feels like quite an achievement for both me and Cleo.

Parenting is as dynamic and mysterious a process as photosynthesis, as far as I'm concerned. Parenting has shaped my heart and mind in ways that I certainly couldn't ever have predicted and it has challenged me to the breaking point on many occasions. I think one of the biggest perks, and certainly one of the most balancing principles of parenting is the way it humbles you. Daily I'm humbled by the humongous love I feel for my kids, one that seems to just keep exponentially growing. I'm humbled by all the mistakes and instantaneous regrets I feel when I mishandle or ignore something and watch the mood and problem spiral out of my grasp. I'm humbled by the way my kids seem to just keep loving me right through all those mistakes I make. And I'm humbled by the enormity of the task of teaching and caring for someone for a lifetime, knowing that whatever happens this relationship of being a parent to a child will define me and help define them.

Cleo as an almost 7 year old is so full of wonder and smart little quips that I seriously want to bottle her vitality and save it for some future rainy day when she's a teen, lying on the bed in headphones texting, dull eyes staring back at me. She can be rough and tumble or dainty and fancy. She likes dinosaurs and peace signs and owls. She is attracted to treasures and hoards small objects like, ahem, ancient skeleton keys stolen from Grandma Mia's house. She collects rocks and crystals, loves Scooby Doo, ancient Egypt, and anything macabre. I know I'm biased, but I think she's utterly fascinating. But don't get me wrong, I forget this important fact daily. I think sometimes I forget to see my own children, or maybe it's more that I tend to only see them as my children and forget to see them for themselves?

The monotony of routine as a parent, and the fact that you are responsible for creating a human who understands manners, grammar, morality, and kindness is what can make you numb to the experience. But boy, taken out of context, kids are magic. Watching Flynn walk around with his white elephant gift-a disposable camera- over the holidays was enough to remind me that everything he sees is of interest to him. The doorknob, my face, the toilet bowl. Details are interesting to kids, and as they age, I'm learning that they have such fascinating ways of putting all those details together to form a world view. I was telling Cleo a story about my youth at my Grandma Lou's the other day and she interrupted me to ask "so was all the world gray back then?" She was interpreting black and white photos and movies into her perception of the past. Isn't that interesting?

Taking the time out of my busy task mastering role to really just hang out with my kids and talk to them feels like a worthy goal. Over the holiday break I indulged and let my chatty Cleo talk my ear off while I tickled her back before bed. She's always talkative at this time of night but most the time I'm eager to get her down, get to my couple hours of uninterrupted freedom. Or I can only see it as a ploy to stay awake longer so I tend to cut it short and sometimes even get annoyed at her long list of topics she wants to discuss at such an inopportune time. But it was so fun to just listen to her with a free ear, one hungry to hear her funny thoughts and wishes. We have discussed things like why we can't be buried in our own backyard when we die, having cake shops next to each other one day and apartments in Paris where our whole family sleeps on bunk beds, why Arctic animals have white fur, and who the oldest person we know is. Our conversations have zest and depth and I think its because I'm really listening and entertained by what she has to say. I'm being present. And often I think that's the hardest thing to do as a parent and a busy adult with adult sized worries and preoccupations, but also probably the most valuable thing I can do for my kids. I believe giving attention to others is always a gift, but giving true attention to my children is as much a gift to me as it is to them. It gives me the chance to unwrap-present-like- the daily hard work and grind of parenting and transform it into a fleeting moment of discovery and connection. Who is this person I'm so driven to love and protect and nurture anyway?

My sweet father in law always wishes me a happy birthday on my children's birthdays. It's a lovely recognition of the fact that for all us parents out there on the day our children are born a new us is born as well. Our life divides, our heart multiplies. I've never felt that more than on this 7th birthday of being a parent. Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthday, Cleo. I am one lucky lady to know you.

Be Still

Maybe it is because we're in the midst of the busiest couple weeks of the year, but I have been thinking a lot about the loveliness of home time, of staying in my pjs and making bread at 1:00 in the afternoon and just being with my own little family without a laundry list of to do's, parties, projects, obligations, and work shifts. I haven't had a day like that in a long, long time and I can feel myself teetering on the brink of exhaustion. My brilliant sister once described the difference between being an introvert and an extrovert as either feeling that social situations "fill you" or "drain you." I fall firmly into the filling up category when it comes to people, and being a pleaser by nature I have a hard time saying no to social engagements and I'm always interested in planning events where I can see those I love. I also think I'm always rah rah rah party because I spend a good number of hours each day at home with kids, insulated from outside connection. Getting out really means something to me, it's a break from routine, and I tend to thrive on it. But I also tend to create, plan, and commit to a lot of extra curricular situations that tax my family's resources both financially and in terms of our chance to be together as a family unit-2 parents x 2 kids.

I think it's pretty impossible to change what fundamentally floats your boat, so I know I will never become a hermit long term. But I do think it is time for me to hunker down a bit and get re-centered with my family. Last year I read about an idea on the wonderful crafty blog Inchmark about taking a week to "BE STILL" as a family. The idea is really just what it sounds, to make an organized and committed stab at retreating to do nothing and to enjoy that state of peace. Inchmark does this at the start of the holiday season, but I'm thinking the perfect time for my family to make this a yearly tradition will be the first week of the new year. It feels like an intuitive way to start off 2011 and I'm always happy to set a worthy goal right from the get go. I'm in love with short term, manageable resolutions that can wither after 7 days!

In our week of being still I plan to resist the urge to make plans, to go out to dinner, or work late. The week will give us a chance to read books out loud and privately, do puzzles, play with our new Christmas bells and whistles, and to sit by candlelight. I imagine some walks and maybe a few craft projects but lots of time by the fire, slow simmering soups, music listening, design magazines and Roald Dahl on our laps. No friends, no play dates, no errands, no outside activities, just me, myself, and mine own at home on Summerhill Drive.

It sounds pretty heavenly, right? I really don't mean to sound all bah humbug because I truly am looking forward to another glorious week of Christmas break with friends and loved ones and fun activities and parties, but I hope that knowing that the stillness is coming January 1 will help me to soak up the love, the bubbly, and the joy of this crazy, hectic, glorious season that much more. Turn outward so I can happily turn inward.....

Glad tidings to you...

I think Dr. Seuss is one of the great American literary treasures. Everything he wrote was pretty much pitch perfect (and in trisyllabic rhythm, no less!) and represent heavy ideological thinking packaged in a humorous, wacky, and utterly original style. I just ran across his "A Prayer for a Child" and thought it was a perfect little message to send out into the computering ether this holiday season. Enjoy, and please have yourselves a merry little Christmas-with peace and good will toward all.....

Prayer for a Child

From here on earth,
From my small place
I ask of You
Way out in space:
In every land
What You and I
Both understand…

Please tell all men
That Peace is Good.
That’s all
That need be understood
In every world
In Your great sky.
(We understand.
Both you and I.)

-Theodore Seuss Geisel

written in 1955 for Colliers magazine and accompanied by above illustration

Finding the fa la la la la

I really do love this season. I'm no banner waving Christian so honestly "the reason for the season" is just part of what I love about Christmas. The lore of St Nicholas and the idea of celebrating the Solstice, the longest night of the year with it's thoughts of a brighter, warmer, greener future, also make me pretty giddy. I love the fresh beginning of the New Year approaching and vow every January 1 to tackle aspirations and try harder to fix stubborn habits. It's a glorious time to look both backwards and forwards.

I got choked up reading The Polar Express to Flynn last night. It happens every time I read that line about how it used to be that all the boy's childhood friends could hear Santa's sleigh bell and over time as they grew up even his sister could not hear it, could not find the magic of Christmas. It feels all too familiar now that I'm an adult. I usually feel two or three moments of full fledged excitement during the season, and like I said, I love all the history and tradition surrounding this time of year. But my heartfelt moments and excitement now seem so fleeting and are quickly over taken by the exhaustion of social engagements (seriously why does everyone have a party just this time of year? I'd welcome something say the 2nd weekend in February?); the fear of over spending and debt and spoiling already spoiled children; the wondering whether I need to have misc. gifts ready for the random neighbor or friend caller which then brings on anger about the feelings of obligation instead of generosity the holidays can incite; and lastly, hoping that I've been 'fun' and present enough to make the season as magical for my kids as it felt for me as a child. I used to spend the whole month in pretty much a state of over-excited hyper activity! My sister and I would plan elaborate Christmas Eve programs for our relatives, reading stories or acting out puppet shows or lip synching to Andy Williams' Christmas record. I would eagerly await the Christmas Eve call from Santa who mysteriously knew so much about me. (A belated thank you Charlie Seldin! I think you fooled me for 10 years.) All of December was a blur of anticipation. Now it's pretty much just a blur.

Of course a lot of the spirit of Christmas can't help but dissipate when it's my Amex, and not Santa, footing the bill to make the magic happen. I read this frightening article awhile back that said it will cost today's parents $222,360 to raise a child born in 2009. Gulp! During Christmas, it feels like that number is right around the corner. Stocking stuffers and whim buys and trying to be 'fair' to one kid and the other adds up. I try to reign myself in but its hard not to get caught up in the mania when you are out on the front lines of commerce!

Honestly probably the best boost I had at discovering the real magic of Christmas, the kind that just might still come from Santa's workshop, is when I perused Made by Joel's wonderful creations for his children. (I've mentioned him before here.) Not only do his toys and projects look great visually but they are geniusly simple and interactive. They harness the imgination, dexterity, and natural curiousity of kids. Those are the type of playthings I like to have around. And while I did make a few crumby Christmas purchases for my kids, (hello horrendous peace sign nail polish kit and squishy salamanders purchased as at the register whims) I am hoping to redeem myself and my standards by making a little something with my own two hands to put under the tree. I'm going old school and want to introduce my kids to the pleasure of analog telephoning, tin can style! Look how cute these are! It will be an interesting experiment to see if something so hands on and homemade can compete on Christmas morning in a sea of batteries, remote controls, and plastic Playmobil. Fingers crossed! Even if those fingers are painted with glittery peace sign polish...

Tis the season...

I come from a small family and have just one sibling to call my own. But lucky for me, she's amazing. Amy is probably the most trustworthy person I know, capable of holding onto triumphs and confessions and heart aches with perfect loyalty and thoughtful advice. She's probably aided in this by what seems to me an adept moral compass and a keen listening ear. She's one of those people who never seems ruffled regardless of how much is on her plate. She quietly accomplishes more than most people I know, but she isn't one to get all braggadocio about it, so few people actually realize the zillion tiny balls she throws into the air every day. She's always the 3 c's-calm, cool, and collected- and since I feel I spend half my days in twits and fits- I've always deeply admired and even coveted her degree of zen.

Amy's full of good ideas too and she absolutely made my day this week by sending a lovely little holiday note via snail mail. Inside were a few photos of cute items she'd seen in catalogs and on each she'd labeled Al or Jaren. The note simply said "because I really am a lover of the idea that the thought really does count for something...here are just a few things I would love to be buying for you this holiday season!"

Isn't that fantastic? Knowing that her family and mine, along with most people I know, are in financial lock down this holiday season, I absolutely adored this note from my sister. In fact it truly felt like she'd sent me a gift. And I agree with her sentiment completely. It really is the thought that counts and I felt loved, pegged, appreciated, and thought of just as I would have if she'd actually bought me these things. (All of which did happen to be right on point, by the way. I mean, look at those boots! A match made in heaven.) It was brilliant and made me want to go on a fake vision board style shopping spree for everyone on my list this year, cutting and tearing magazine and catalog photos and wrapping them up. I would wager that a family Christmas party could still feel pretty great even if everyone opened a gift with a photo of an item, instead of the actual item, inside.

I think it's easy to forget in the mania of the holidays that gift giving doesn't have to be an elaborate, expensive enterprise. The best gifts are the ones given thoughtfully, whether they are big or small. It's an art to be a good gift giver and to me this doesn't just mean you are a good shopper and always have something for someone. When done correctly, a gift is a true manifestation of who someone is- you "get" them enough to choose something they would choose for themselves- or you have paid enough attention to someone to know what they are most in need of.

We should really think before we buy all of the time, but especially at Christmas. I believe in the ritual of giving this time of year, it's symbolic and Christian and all that good stuff. We shouldn't complacently let it become yet another meaningless display of our buying power. If you are looking for a little Christmas time inspiration, treat yourself and read the wonderful O. Henry story The Gift of the Magi. You can give it a whirl here or seek out a copy of the above version illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger. It's gorgeous and good for the kiddos to boot. Let's hope we can all be a little Della & Jim to each other and those we love this year!

Happy Holidays!

Living History

In the last year, all the oldest generation of my family has all but died. I have no grandparents left, and since I started out with 3 sets thanks to a complicated family tree, that's saying something. My great aunt Shirley is the sole survivor in the 80+ crowd of my bloodline. (She's a great one to have left though. Any of you who know me well have heard me talk about Shirley. She's one serious kook and someone not to be trifled with. She embodies sentiments of another time when she says phrases like "great scott" or "my heavenly days, Alli" or "it's on the Boulevard" --meaning Foothill Blvd. She is a keeper and a true family matriarch now.) We are so lucky to have her with us still.

Holidays make me think about family. And this year, it feels a little strange not having the older set to anchor my family to our usual traditions and events. I can already see how not having my grandmother Mere around is going to mean seeing my uncles, aunts, and cousins much less. Time passes and family traditions evolve. It makes sense, times change and families grow, but I picture how difficult it must be for the person in their twilight years, who was once at the center of a family, to suddenly feel more like a leaf on a much larger tree. In one way I suppose that's what we all want when we start a family of our own, to witness something so much larger than ourselves taking shape, but it is easy to fantasize about that when you are stuck in your prime years, little family emerging and growing. It might be a bit more bitter pill to swallow when you are the old one at the table struggling to keep up with the conversation about ipads and Facebook and Toy Story 3.

One of the things I admire about traditional cultures is the way elderly people are revered and honored. Even once you die, you are still an important piece of society because the concept of respected "ancestors" is so central to many of these cultures. Some even believe the ancestor spirits are ever-present influencing for better or worse what happens in the daily life of the living. I like this belief that those who went before should inform the decisions you make in your life. It seems so comforting and smart, kind of like listening to a life coach or something. But it's simply a foreign notion in American life. I'm not saying we don't mourn our dead, of course we do, but we don't collectively spend much time thinking about what the previous generation would want us to do. It feels irrelevant in our world of personal choice and fixation with progress. Looking back isn't an American, or some might even say Western, direction of thought.

I can't say that I always listened rapt when Mere or other grandparents were telling their tales or doling out advice, but now that I can't hear it, I miss the chance to. I'd really love to ask Mere some questions about her carmel sauce technique and hear my Grandma Lou say "Raoul and Felipe" (her names for the 2 elevators in her building) in her best tongue rolling Spanish accent. I think it's difficult not to see our elderly as stereotypes. We forget to look past the wrinkles and bad Christmas sweatshirts and see their former youth spent full of days that probably really resembled our own. I wish that I could have looked further past Mere's critical eye for decadence and material possessions and focused more on the reasons behind her criticism. What was it like living through the depression and having your mother sew wedding dresses to put clothes on your back?

I find it a wee bit ironic that we fixate on our kids knowing factoids of history like "1492 Columbus sailed the ocean blue", and yet most of us couldn't probably give a significant personal family history date like when our parents were married or the year our grandparents were born. Living history, that's what or older family members are. I'm a fan of living history. I know I'm always referencing, nerd-like, radio shows, but I truly adore the tiny segments on NPR made by Storycorps. Usually less than 5 minutes, they are snippets of interviews between family members or friends. It's just one person asking another person about their life and significant (or not) moments from it. I love hearing these intimate pieces of a stranger's story and how the interviewer relates to it. It is surprisingly hard to interview someone you know well. I took my Dad into a Storycorp booth a couple summers ago when they were traveling through SLC and we recorded an interview. It was an experience I treasure-emotional wreck of an interviewer though I was- and I now have a documented, recorded piece of our shared living family history. It makes me proud. But why haven't I extended this experience to pretty much everyone I know, particularly those I know who are likely in their last years?

Storycorps motto is "Every life matters." I believe this too, so this holiday season, when I am sure to see my family, old and grey and young and dewy alike, I am going to challenge myself to think like an interviewer and find out some facts and life history about those around me. Storycorps has a list of great questions to use as a stepping off point. It might not be the usual cocktail hour conversation but it is something I know I can fell good about doing. Check the list out. Maybe you will find out that you want some of these answers for yourself at your next holiday shindig?.....

An early thanksgiving

I have a real affection for the radio talk show Radio West. (In fact, Jaren loves to tease me about my boyfriend being the show's host, Doug Fabrizio.) I don't listen to it daily or even regularly, but if I'm ever in the car at 11:00 you better believe I'm tuning in and likely really enjoying it. I have been exposed to so many new ideas and interesting personal stories because of this show. I think it would be a dream job to research and read about random things and people and then get to quiz someone about the who, what, where, when, and why. It's endless, really, the fascinating things we can learn about each other and this world if we choose to do so.

I was lucky to catch a good chunk of Radio West this week which was an interview with David Campbell, a guy who just wrote a book called American Grace. The book is an attempt to figure out why America remains such a religious nation compared to similar economic/social countries like those in Western Europe, and why our different religious sects don't necessarily divide us a nation. In America, we've kept our religions remarkably intact and even growing. Campbell posits that it has a lot to do with our nation's entrepreneurial take on religion-it's personal here, not a required religion adopted by the state or government, and because of that, religion is able to be really responsive and fitting to personal needs and tastes. It's rather interesting to me that this means that the vitality of religion (and perhaps our nation) still comes down to what our country's founders felt, that celebrating and honoring religious freedom is key.

One of the most compelling parts of the interview to me was when Campbell mentioned that in random samples across the US if he asked people the question whether they say any type of grace before a meal, it was pretty much universally 50/50; half say grace, half don't. This statistic was true regardless of where he was in the country, regardless of age or social status, etc. I found this surprising. I'm not even sure if I thought more or less people would still be blessing their food, but I thought the fact that it breaks down so perfectly across the country was significant and worth thinking about. What does it mean to not say some kind of thank you out loud before you eat? Is something lost if saying grace becomes a relic of the past or the fervent?

Not being a religious family, I confess that me and mine rarely say grace or a prayer before dinner, and yet in the abstract I realize how much this bothers me. It isn't about hellfire and brimstone or God per se. For me, it is really about the true meaning of grace as an expression of gratitude, regardless of what the specific words are or whom they are directed to. This is a heart of the matter subject for me since I think if I could sum up my religiousity/spirituality in one single word it would be gratitude. I have faith in giving thanks. I have faith in believing that the world around me is truly amazing and that those I interact with are unique and amazing too. As a parent, the qualities I hope to impart in my kids are kindness and graciousness. Call it Christian. Call it being all you can be. I don't really care. I just hate to think that by opting out of saying grace I might be helping to foster an environment in my home that equates to entitlement...the we have this just because we do, irrespective of the work it took to have it, mentality. We all work for our money but also someone else worked to grow it, make it, dream it into being. (And the it here is a fill in the blank, mind you. It can be anything.) Ultimately you can call it God, you can call it the Universe, or you can call it a long chain of humanity cooperatively organized to make it so....but isn't there room in all of those views for an expression of mindful gratitude? I can't see the harm in directing a few quiet minutes to thankfulness each day.

Out of curiousity, I looked up some different traditions around saying grace at the dinner table and was quite inspired by what is out there. I thought this list of Christian/God centered texts had some nice ones. I also thought this list compiled from all different religions was interesting. None of them feel quite right for me but I think I'm going to try and experiment and see if I can come up with one that suits my family. I started simply last night by asking everyone to say one thing they are grateful for. It wasn't earth shattering--Flynn's was Santa for heaven's sake--but it set a tone for the meal that made me quite happy.

It's fitting to bring this all up in the month of Thanksgiving, isn't it? I adore Thanksgiving and hate that it gets swept under the rug in the vaccuum between commerical Halloween and even more commercial Christmas. I love that the holiday is about the simple act of appreciation and giving thanks. I love the Mayflower. I love the Pilgrim story and even have a soft spot for crazy Pilgrim dress. I'd wear a pair of square toed buckle shoes any day and this is 300 years later! I intend to make these cute paper Pilgrim hats the required dress code at the Harbertson family turkey day meal. And you'd better believe it, this Thanksgiving we'll be primed and ready for grace!

Dollar store woes

In my life as a parent, there is no retail hell quite as visceral as taking my children to the Dollar store. It's a fate I try hard to skirt, avoiding the places like the plague that they are. They are just so full of constant temptation for children-balloons, obnoxious holiday decor, sparkly crap, plastic toy wonderlands, and cavity inducing treats. And it doesn't take a 6 year old long to figure out just how cheap $1 is compared to normal shopping experiences. Because of the toll it takes on my psyche we rarely go to the Dollar store, but every major holiday seems to chip away at my resolve and we always end up there for something random-this Halloween it was glow sticks for trick or treating. So the dollar store conundrum is fresh on my mind.

I really don't think dollar stores are responsible for cultural decay, but I'm not joking when I say that I think places like it have contributed directly to it. I think All A Dollar, Big Lots, and the like have done a lot to harm our mindset as a culture, and especially our consumer culture, so central to the American way of life. The value we place on goods is irretriveably altered when we pay only $1 for them. We don't expect much out of the product's design, we don't expect it to exude taste, we aren't supporting the labor market that produced the product, and we certainly don't expect it to last. I have issue with all of these things going by the wayside, but encouraging disposability is to me really egregious. I bet 50% of land fills are now filled with the broken down rejects someone bought at the freaking dollar store! Trust me, I tried this summer, and it is hard to unload the stuff at a garage sale, let alone have it hang around for years in your own closet.

Last summer I read an awesome book called Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture. It was an enlightening read about the global practices behind producing goods cheaply and the psychology of how good deals and cheap goods have infiltrated our consumer experience and mentality. The book depressed me on a lot of levels--thinking of the plight of the foreign worker making silly products for hours on end that no one needs in dangerous conditions is a hard pill to swallow-but the thing that really struck me most was the way cheap goods have changed our expectations of products and therefore our expectation of workmanship and quality. It is frightening to think that we have traded in the concept of heirloom quality for sheer quantity or the hope of a larger bank balance in exchange for inexpensive goods.

Being married to a craftsman, someone who can build actual useable things from scratch, I've learned the value of creating by hand. I've seen the work it takes to produce a chair from a hunk of wood, and it is something so hard to put a price on. It's someone's time, sure, but it's also someone's knowledge and someone's pride in what they produce. It is intensely personal work to make something by hand. And it's that sense of the personal that sets the creation apart from mass production goods. Anyone can buy a dresser from IKEA and save a bundle but is there a story behind the item, a point of view, other than how cheap it was or the frustration of putting it together?! Can you name something you own that you feel you would want to pass on to your children? Why do you feel this way about it? What sets it apart from everything else you own? I'm willing to wager you aren't looking at something you bought at IKEA or the Dollar store.

Things that we truly value are priceless. Literally. You cannot put a dollar figure on them and yet that is the only criteria shoppers use when perusing the aisles of dollar store establishments. "But it's so cheap!" "Can you believe this is only a dollar?" And that's exactly the mentality that gets all of us. These places thrive because it feels good to get a big bang out of a little buck. A 6 year old feels it, we feel it. It's a difficult thing to combat and a very difficult thing to say no to, especially in tight times like these. But I think it's worth considering the impact buying cheap has on us as a culture and on us as a personal consumer.

I've accepted my impact politically and socially as a consumer, but I'm not willing to accept the classic American consumer moniker if it means increasing trash, not treasure, on the planet. If we as Americans are consumers above all, let's be good ones. Let's elevate our possessions to being bastions of good taste, design, sustainability, and personality. Ghandi's old saying "we must be the change we wish to see in the world" was surely never meant for consumer practices, but I'm convinced there isn't a more political, or aesthetic- altering, stand we can take as a culture. I think we could change the fabric of culture more quickly by refusing to buy cheap than by the ballot box. It's an interesting power to wield, the power of the wallet, and definitely something worth our thoughtful attention when making those purchases that make the world, our world, go round.

p.s. The author of Cheap was interviewed on Radio West last year. I seriously heart our local radio west situation, and this episode is a great one hour program on all these topics and more. Give the podcast a listen if you can!

Big ups and trying not to fall down

I love when the inner world of my heart and the outer world converge. I've had a lot of sunny moments this past week that match the absolute golden beauty of these late fall days. Exciting things are afoot for me and for Jaren and the kids seem to be happily progressing. Feelings of deep gratitude for my uber-lovely parents and all the support and gracious generosity they bestow on me and mine are making me feel full. I am so lucky to have the kind of parents who are equal parts friend, confidant, and cheerleader. They have gotten me through rough patches since I was a wee thing and here they are still, at 35, stepping up to babysit my kiddos, allay my fears-both real and imagined, and buoy my reality. I am so, so lucky.

And to top it off, I got to go to the desert this weekend! I think Utah is a gem on many levels, but I don't think words can describe the magic of the red rock desert. When I head south, I feel like I'm going home. I love Southern Utah in the spring when the desert landscape is alive with flowers and life that defy the arid landscape, but Fall is pretty damn spectacular. The huge Cottonwoods lining all the rivers and washes were blazing yellow, and against the blue sky and deep amber rock it was almost too much contrast, kind of like technicolor or a hand colored photograph. We treated our kids to their first Goblin Valley experience and they were just the right ages to scramble and climb among the rock formations and really take it in. We spent the time hanging and hiking with dear friends and admiring the grandeur of a very mighty landscape. Again, it made me feel full of light and love.

It's a lucky life to lead and I know I'm blessed or fortunate or whatever you want to call it. I get worried when things feel like they are on the uptake, though, like something is bound to come crashing down. It's the "every action has an equal and opposite reaction" equation. Is it human nature to feel this?

I can't recall where I first learned about the term momento mori, a Latin phrase that translates to "remember you must die" or "remember you will die" but I've been pretty fascinated with the idea for awhile. Manifestations of momento mori occur in a lot of architecture and art, especially from the Middle Ages and Puritan era--most are dark paintings full of grumpy old men holding skulls or oversized time pieces or the occasional church with human bones and skulls prominently displayed, symbols of impending death. Macabre though it may be, I love this concept. I've been considering carrying a little momento mori of my own, something that cautions me to think about the now. I love the idea of reminding myself, even in my most light hearted and happy state, that time is always short, life cannot be lived forever. It's counter intuitive, but I find this comforts me. My biggest fear just might be letting my very own life pass me by; to feel regret or that I did not live to the fullest extent of who I am. To me, that can really only be achieved if I stay mindful about TODAY. This very minute is really all that we can control right? Who knows what will happen next?

I like skulls and black. And a pocket watch is cool, but I don't think I can go that literal with my momento mori. So I'm thinking, for me, what better manifestation of momento mori than to carry around the perfect little smooth rock I collected in the desert this weekend. It feels good to my fingertips and fits perfectly in my pocket. Rounded by eons of time, rinsed by flood and rain, and baked over and over again in the scorching desert sun, it is a tiny fragment of one of the most beautiful pieces of this Earth. Let's hope its tangible presence in my jeans helps me strive to be a beautiful fragment in this crazy world too......

Who says you can't teach old dogs new tricks?

Just when I think the state of things is in the toilet and that humans have successfully destroyed the delicate balance of the planet for good, something comes along to make me re-evaluate and feel hopeful. I do believe progress is being made on the waste front. I've never understood why when one company discovers a great, eco-friendly solution, all other companies aren't required to follow suit. Interestingly, it seems that consumers (more and more) are forcing this issue, not government, and maybe that is the genius of the capitalist culture? We are taking a stand and requiring our products and our companies to consider the waste and the pollution their businesses create. Money talks way louder than politicians, I guess, and that puts us as consumers in a pretty powerful position, but one that also requires responsibility.

Plastic water bottles (think Dasani, Aquafina) are a huge pet peeve of mine. I can't think of another product that more appropriately represents all that is wrong with mainstream America. Buying something in place of something you already pay for via your faucet at home is itself ridiculous, and then made even more so since consumer protection places have consistently revealed that fancy "spring" water is rarely from any place more pure than a faucet anyway, and in fact is subject to fewer regulations. It's just tap water that has been repackaged and refrigerated for your convenience. Plus plastic water bottles have become a serious blight to our environment. Though plastic bottles are recyclable, less than half end up in recycling bins, the rest of the billions go to the landfill where it will take several hundreds of years for the plastic to photodegrade into smaller bits, which still never completely disappear from the soil and the water system. And to make matters worse, it takes barrels and barrels of oil to manufacture the bottles in the first place, a definite waste of finite resources.

Americans drink more bottled water than any nation on Earth and we probably have the easiest access to plumbed water. Ironic, right? Consumer awareness creeps in, however, and I have started to notice just how many people carry stainless and plastic water bottles now, filled at home, rather than purchasing yet another plastic bottle. Not only is it budget conscious, it is so much more earth friendly and those stainless bottles are indestructible (unless you put them full in the freezer and forget about them like Jaren did-in that scenario they explode!) Even the plastic bottles themselves are beginning to be made from biodegradable components, the best ones being 100% plant based and able to degrade completely in 75 days. That's progress, folks!

I'd love to see the same thing happen with the Ziploc style plastic baggie business. Fabric, oilcloth, and glass containers are much better looking anyway! Check out these cutie pies sold on Etsy, they are my personal favorite. But I'm seeing a lot of things like this pop up in Whole Foods and even my "normal" grocery store. Change creeps in. I mostly remember to bring my cloth bags to the store now. (Finally realizing I needed to keep them in the car was a major boon for that issue.) And I am watching to see if California will become the first state to completely ban single use plastic bags from retail stores, a measure that hopefully will lead to an eventual national ban, or at least increased consumer awareness.

Perhaps these are small peeves to voice, but seriously, en masse, think of how much plastic waste we as the biggest consumers in the word could avert with just small decisions and small lifestyle changes. Lord knows that if the American public doesn't put up a fuss about these issues, nothing will change. Big companies will just keep pumping out unnecessary products that are bad for the Earth and therefore bad for humans. It's back to the old "you must be the change you wish to see in the world" Ghandi deal. I believe we can do it if we stay vigilant and stay open to changing our habits.

But if you need a little more incentive to stop buying those flats of bottled water at Costco, or pretty much any other plastic item, check out these photos from the amazing Chris Jordan taken of albatross chicks near Midway Island in the North Pacific ocean. Our oceans are becoming a wasteland of floating plastic, and sea birds and other sea life are eating our trash and dying because of it. The photos are tragic and telling and hopefully a true harbinger of hopeful change.....