Kathleen Botsford

A Pear Package

I am still busy getting my studio put into order.  There are big piles of %$#* everywhere.  In my office and out of my office.  I get a little overwhelmed and then I get another burst of energy and purpose.  Kind of like "real life".  Sometimes we have to sit back and contemplate.  Sometimes we are forced to sit back and contemplate.  That is not much fun even if you like contemplation, like me.  My friend, Jennifer, is being forced to sit still after an ankle surgery.  As I send this "pear package" off to her, I am ever reminded of the everyday opportunities I find for practicing letting go of the many things I have no control over.   The misnomer that I do have control  is the very "thought" that leads to the anxiety or distress I may feel, however trivial.  When I can gently let these thoughts go, they evaporate like steam rising from a cup of hot cocoa.   If I can let them go without resistance, the sweet softening that sweeps through my body is absolutely heavenly.  Practice. Practice. Practice.

 

Look Beneath the Surface

  I have been very busy organizing and sorting, cleaning and tossing, arranging and rearranging.  My studio is a complete mess.  It is way over crowded with tons of paper ephemera, stones and jewels, necklaces and books, paints and canvases.  There is no place to move, no place to breathe.  My kids have always been very supportive of my creativity and projects.  They would come home every day and say "What did you make today, Momma?"  And happily "ohh" and "ahh" in all the right places as I proudly or sometimes not so proudly offered my work up for their perusal.

My husband has been another story.  He is a business man.  He is a numbers guy.  He isn't quite so interested in what I am making but if I can sell it and when.  It's just the way he is.

Sunday morning he surprised me with a plan to create a wall of storage in my studio to help me get organized.  He had his tape measure and his graft paper.  He took his measurements and asked lots of pertinent questions.  He was off to the Container Store for hours and he did not stop until late that evening when the entire back wall of my office was filled with shelves and over 60 white mesh drawers.  All sitting neatly in a row.  All empty and begging for something to store.

Sometimes I feel my husband doesn't "get" me.  Sometimes he doesn't.  Sunday I sat back and basked in the love as my husband, the numbers guy,  created my heart's desire before my very eyes.  Things don't always look like I think they should.  People don't always act like I wish they would.  If I can take a step back and drop my expectations, I am often surprised beyond measure by the kindness and love I may have over looked a moment before.   (60 empty drawers!  Now that's the kind of love I can work with!)

Plan B continues

My son Steve (aka Stevie or Stever because he is a junior) had his heart set on playing football for Notre Dame since he was a tot, maybe 4 years old.   The dream seemed to be lost when he did not gain acceptance to the University as a freshman.  But if you have read my blog in the past you know he worked very hard his freshman year at Indiana University and was accepted as a transfer student his sophomore year.  When he came home for Christmas break we were all as excited as he was when his first semester grades arrived, all A's.  Well, I was excited.  He was disappointed in a couple of A-.  Monday we received the "news release" that Stevie had made the deans list.  Another celebration ensued. 

Yesterday, Stevie tried out for the Notre Dame football team as a "walk on".  The initial tryout was at 6:45 in the morning before classes began.  We sat on pins and needles most of the day until a jubilant voice resounded through the phone.  "Hey Momma!  I made the first cut!"  Excuse me a moment while I grab a tissue.  I can't seem to stop crying!

The continuing road will be long and hard.  Stevie is not afraid of hard work.  He is on the road and that is all that matters at this point.  When I went to school yesterday to chaperone play practice for my youngest, Victoria, I stopped by the Deans office.  The Dean is also the football coach.  The coach that did not play my son much in his high school years.  He wasn't in but I know he will be just as excited and proud of Stevie as we are!

Imagine the Possibilities

We had the opportunity to increase the love and compassion on this planet with our response to 911.  While some of us feel we failed at this task to truly live our beliefs and walk our talk, what happened, happened.   Today we have come full circle.  The American people have elected a man of honor and humility.  A man of peace and compassion.  May we all, ALL of us on this earth, live in peace and harmony, today and always.   God keep and bless Barack Obama and his courageous family as he leads us down paths both old and new to a brighter tomorrow for our children and our children's children in every nation on this beautiful place we all call home.  God bless us everyone.

Do Not Open

This is a sign I keep on the counter when my dishwasher is on.   The dishwasher is so quiet,  we have often opened it when it is in mid cycle.  I can never seem to get it back on track when this happens so I made a sign to let everyone know when "not to open."    I am becoming more comfortable with my own inner cycles and the times when I should not open.  Sometimes ideas and insights are meant to share and sometimes they are not.  When I share my inner promptings without discretion, I can actually feel the energy of the insight dissipate into thin air.  And I can never seem to get that creative inkling back.   Just like the bubbles we used to blow into the summer evenings, they disappear like magic right before my eyes.  I wonder how many ideas lost their chance for expression through my compulsive need to share and connect.   Ideas and projects need time to incubate and grow.  They need nurturing and support.  When the time is right, their birth will be that much more complete and rewarding.  Now if I can only keep my mouth shut.   Practice, practice, practice.

Open to Silence

As much as I dream about solitude and silence, I have begun to notice the myriad of small ways in which I run from it.  How many times I am alone in the car and I reach for the button to fill the space with music.  I will go for long spurts with not a sound in my car but once I turn on the noise, no matter how calming or inspiring, I slip back into the habit as easily as an old sweatshirt.  The car is the perfect place for me to stay connected to my inner self.    The perfect place for me to practice silence.  No dogs, no husband, no phones, no computer, no doorbell.  So this week as I sit in my quiet car for the numerous hours of driving and  waiting  that is part and parcel of being a mom these days, I will not reach for the radio.  I will not reach for a book.  I will not reach for a journal.  I will practice sitting with myself in silence.  I will let you know how it goes. 

Winter Solitude

Yesterday was my birthday and has always felt like the beginning of the new year to me.   The Christmas rush is over.  The cold and snow are perfect companions for the contemplation beckoning from within.   I love the winter.  I love the time to be alone and quiet.  I love the dark mornings and early sunsets.  I love the cozy fires and candle lit afternoons.

The day passed just like any other day.  Filled with chores and duties.  I was feeling a little sorry for myself and unappreciated.  When this happens I know it is a signal for me to start cherishing myself a little more.  With the hubbub of kids homecomings and schedules, Christmas and additional preparations, I tend to put myself last on the list.  I can always be sure this is happening when my lower lip begins to protrude and I can feel tears ready to spill out at any moment.  A definite sign to take some "me" time.  Maybe a sea salt bath or an afternoon with a good book.  Perhaps a massage or lunch with a dear friend.  Or all of the above!  Just some time to fill myself up so I will not expect others to.  It is not their responsibility.  It is mine.

P.S.  I opened my favorite bottle of champagne for dinner and I may even bake myself a birthday cake this week! 

P.P.S. My family took me out for dinner on Friday, before Alex left for school and the girls both gave me lovely gifts. (just for the record and in case they read this)

Note to Self

Note to Self:  Stay present to the "seemingly" small moments.  The spicy aroma of my favorite cup of tea.  The glimpse of my dog sitting in the living room window waiting for my return before he scampers to the back door to greet me.  The delightful sound of my youngest  daughter's voice  as she sings so beautifully in her shower.   The pretty pears on the box of kleenex sitting on my momentarily clean desk.  My everyday blessings are always here; patiently, silently waiting for me to take note.

Very interesting post-script.  As I reread my post I was suddenly aware of it's extremely possessive tone.  A definite new lesson to contemplate this winter.

The spicy aroma of "a" cup of tea ~ glimpse of "the" dog sitting in the window ~ The delightful sound of "Victoria's" voice ~ kleenex sitting on "the" momentarily clean desk.  Still everyday blessings but they do not belong to me.  I am but the witness.  Practice. Practice. Practice.

Simple Instructions

Do you have the patience to wait
till your mud settles and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving

till the right action arises by itself?

                                                              the Tao, Stephen Mitchell

It amazes me how simple life can be if I can get out of my own way.  Letting go of resistance.  Letting go of expectations.  Letting go of the illusion of control of any kind.  It's peaceful here.  Perhaps someday I will live here instead of visiting.

Christmas memories

 I decided yesterday to leave the Christmas tree and decorations up one more day.  Last evening I sat in the family room with the tree and mantle ablaze.  Thousands of white lights dancing like fairies while nutcrackers marched on in their own stoic fashion.   Everyone was gone.  The house was quiet.  The memory of recent  Christmas'  met the ghosts of Christmas' past.  To my surprise, not a tear was shed.  I sat in peace and sipped my cup of Sleepytime tea.

This evening the house will be full of kids and commotion.  The NCAA  National Championship Football Game is on!  Stevie and Alex are having friends in and Steve is making our football game traditional "steak sandwiches" for dinner.  We will have lots of noise and boisterous laughter ringing through the hallways.  I may slip away for a moment or two to sit in the quiet of the lighted Christmas tree one more time before I say goodbye to another year of family Christmas memories.

P.S.  I am showing my age.  It is the BCS Championship game, not the NCAA