Thursday, July 17, 2014

Summer Mornings

4:00 a.m. is my favorite time of the day. I like that hour. I usually awaken sometime around then and visit the Loo, and like the fact that the house is quiet, and everyone is where they should be...in their beds.
I wander to the kitchen for a drink of water, look out at the yard to see if there are any cougars or skunks or other dangerous villains, and have time to think. My thoughts are relaxed and uncluttered at that time of day and there is no pressure.  I have a few hours to go back to bed if I want, or I can sit in a chair for awhile, or kneel and pray. If the dogs need to go out, they will get up with me at that time too, and I will go out too and look at the stars. The 4:00 hour on our street is silent and I can hide in my too-short pajamas in the darkness behind the giant ponderosa in our front yard.  The dogs do their biz quickly and quietly and since nothing very interesting is going on, and because they are afraid of the dark, they come in quickly, without my having to chase or call after them ten times which is what happens if they get out during daylight. 
It is the best hour for me, for thoughts that feel sacred and clear.
6:30 a.m is the next favorite time for me.  I wake and roll out of bed for a walk, followed by some weed pulling and other gardening while the air is cool and delicious. 
By 7:30 a.m. the persons who don't have work off for the summer have been bidden "good-day" at work and the dogs have been fed and some laundry and dishes have been started.
The morning continues on with breakfast, scripture reading, checking bank accounts and e-mails while moving the sprinkler around the yard if it's a watering day-or hand watering on other days.
I am inspired everyday of my summer vacation by the possibilities for hiking, reading, artwork or writing that might happen!
By 10:00 a.m. it's time to think about what we're going to eat for the day and face going to the store. It's never as bad as I think it's going to be, especially if I get it done early.
If, by 11:00 a.m. it's not too hot I can usually try to get some other cleaning done, try to be happy while trying to get teenagers to want to do anything productive....or fun, on any given day, like get out of bed before 1:00 p.m. But, If it's hot, and because we have a swamp cooler that only really works on days when it's less that 98 degrees I start to fade into a thing that dosn't care. 
By lunchtime on hot days, all my morning optimism turns into clamminess and a desire to escape into the basement for an extra degree or two of coolness and sink into the land of bad Netflix movie choices. I have been known to not emerge again, aside from obtaining nourishment, and/or trying to find a reasonable representation of nourishment to the starving masses that live at my house and/or to those who may be visiting,  that won't take me or my kitchen past the degree of heat where things start to combust. 
If you're looking for me this summer, try to find me before lunch time. 


Wednesday, April 2, 2014

I don't know squat

I DO NOT "KNOW" lots of stuff.
I am convinced that I have some kind of  learning disorder(S) that makes my brain unable to  process certain things.  If you are going to try to spell something to me from across the room so that the children present won't catch on then forget it!  You'll need to wait while I get a piece of paper and pencil so I can write it down first.  I have to be able to "see it".
 Also, To say that I am not a "Math Head" is a laughable understatement. The last math class i managed to pass was 10th grade algebra. I remember tearfully trying to explain to the teacher that i did not deserve an "F" because after all, I  did turn in all of the assignments and take all of the tests-and that that should merit at least a "D". I reasoned that if I had not turned anything in and had not taken any tests-then that might justify an "F".  The part of a brain people use to do math is missing in mine.
I'm not a good "multi-tasker" either and I need more down-time than the average person I think.
Socially, I am a bit "off". I am not trying to get sympathy here and I am not ashamed.  All my dearest friends and family can attest that... I'm a little weird. I am happy they love me anyway, but  this has gotten me into some trouble from time to time and currently up to now even.
I felt, growing up that I was just not really aware of how to act in many circumstances.  Once, in High School there was an assembly that was very emotional  for me-because it was the "Dance Company Assembly". I was feeling hurt-I wanted to be a Dancer-to be in "Dance Club" but the tryouts were rigorous for me and I found that I could not learn complicated dance steps to even get me to the "tryout" level. I was deeply afraid of Connie Jo-the Dance Teacher who yelled at me for...laughing at the wrong time once-during a very serious pas de duex excercise.  As I sat there watching all these beautiful girls in their black sparkling leo's, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. It was horrifying, I could actually feel water beginning to drip down my face! I became aware of my friend beside me, shaking. Was she crying too? Was she laughing? Was she aware that I was crying and trying to lend some support? I've always cried at odd and weird times-this friend was always good at cheering me up-or at least ending my emotional upheavals with distractions.  I'm not sure why this struck me as it did, but I started laughing and that made my friend laugh. If she wasn't laughing previously, she was completly lost to it now.  Soon we were both laughing our guts out. My laugh was louder though.  I laughed at the whole philosophical thing. It could not have been funnier-this idea that I was not "In" dance company.  I did not also pass an audition for Choir. I was a failure. Except for "Pep club" and "Science" club, my whole idea of what I thought I should be doing in "High School" was a bomb, and realized in this very moment! And yet somehow embraced through a deep acknowledgement of hurt, then tears-turned to laughing.  So Strangely comforted by the Universe in the dark East High Auditorium during the Dance Company Assembly.  It was hysterical. I think I wet my pants.
It was not hysterical however, to the sister of one of the dancers, who sat several rows behind us and who was sure we were laughing at her sister, who by the way had rather large bosoms-which I guess she was sensitive about. (?)  The sister was enraged and promptly informed said sister...  Dancing, mad, sister, later questioned me-I was her friend right? Why was I laughing at her during the Dance assembly?  I was, like "Whu?"  Actually, thinking about it all these 30+ years later I think there might of been a second of laughing at ms. dancing big bosom-but it was more like "Wow, so this is the ideal?"- I'm not such a freaky freakout....so you can dance-but you've got your problems too...all you perfect girlies up in there that can dance and are all that!
Yeah. It's weird to be me. I have learned better over the years to cue in to social norms like not laughing during performances, and other good stuff.
I  could go on and on about all the stuff I DO NOT KNOW. I felt bad about that stuff for a long time.
I mean, Why can't I know how to do math? I've tried. My dad blew several gaskets and I blame his alcoholism on my not being able to understand math.  Just kidding. More on that later.
That all changed when my daughter was born and later diagnosed with pretty significant learning disorders.
I had a dream that was so deep it changed the way I see what my daughter "Knows" and what she does not, and therefore what I do and do not.  I wrote about that dream earlier here and I won't go into it here completely, but the idea of it is that I am completely convinced we have been given exactly what we need here in this life to learn and accomplish precisely what we alone are meant to do.  We have been given all the tools we need.  We don't have all the same tools! Freak! What would that look like? We all have what we need to help and serve others and they too have what they have to help us when we may have a need.
It's absolutely the divine plan of the Creator who designed us. Not one of us is complete unto ourselves, only together, sharing what we've been given are we going to end up growing in the things that are important, deep and meaningful.
So, I can't do math and I'm a bit socially awkward.  My auditory processing skills are slim to none if I didn't get a really good night's sleep. I can do 2 things at one time only for 3 or 4 minutes a day. I can list a whole other page of  good "tools" that weren't packed in my "box", but I'm at a good stage where that hardly bothers me anymore, because I'm really really thankful for the tools I got to come with.  I'm really glad someone said-"Well, she can't do a lot of things, can't dance, can't sing, has some pretty major issues, including laughing at inappropriate times-but let's let her "KNOW" that the Gospel is true.  I needed that. I got it. For whatever reason, my mind gets to know it.  I know and have always known that there is a God.  I know that his Son Jesus Christ is The Saviour of the World and that His Church is on the earth right now.  It's here until he comes again. I know about the Book of Mormon too...I get to read it everyday and feel the truth of it.  It's true that it was written by Prophets who lived on this continent thousands of years ago...written about Jesus! They knew about him, when HE was born and when HE died and when HE was resurrected because HE came here and visited them. Awesome. They wrote it on gold plates, and Joseph was the guy who got to interpret the book, for US.  Then the angel came and took the plates back. I know there are angels among us.  The only way a person can know if it's true is to read it and pray about it and ask God if it is true. More amazing awesomeness.  I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet. When he prayed as a young boy, to know which church he should join, God the Father and his son Jesus Christ appeared to him.  Got it. It's truth to me. I know it. I've known it forever. Can't remember when I didn't know it.  I know it again and again. and more. It feels like a gift. I wouldn't trade it for dancing or singing well or a zillion other things. Or even doing math. Amen. I'll not apologize for knowing.  Some people get to know. I don't know why some don't other than it comes back to that whole "tool box" thing. We don't all have to have the same set of gifts/tools.  It's useless to ask things like "Why didn't my daughter get to have the tools the other kids get to have? nope. How about me?
Don't I get to learn math? nope. Not in this life.  



Sunday, March 30, 2014

Sunday

It's Sunday today.
I love Sundays.
I've probably said/ written that before about a hundred times.
It's the day that helps me regroup and regrow brain cells and recharge.  I'm pretty sure the day does not actually help me with brain cell regrowth in any physical way, but on a sub-terrainial  or spiritual level I feel the beginnings of what must be like "being healed".
I'm healed from the busy-ness and bussiness of life because I can sit and be quiet. I can rest.
I know where everyone is today. All my kids are at home. We will enjoy going to church today and eat together and read or watch a movie. We will talk, or choose not to. We will all be at home and know that we are all available and accessible. I will sleep in late or take a nap.
I would not trade my Sundays for a whole year of vacation.