TO SEEK WISDOM

"The proper teaching is recognized with ease. You can know it without fail because it awakens within you that sensation which tells you this is something you've always known."

"Religion must remain an outlet for people who say to themselves, 'I am not the kind of person I want to be.' It must never sink into an assemblage of the self-satisfied."

"The mind can go either direction under stress - towards positive or toward negative; on or off. Think of it as a spectrum whose extremes are unconsciousness at the negative end and hyper-consciousness at the positive end. The way the mind will lean under stress is strongly influenced by training."

"I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past me, I will turn to see fear's path. Where the fear has gone, there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

MOM TO THE RESCUE

With my first baby, I was frantic that with my hearing loss, I would not hear her if she cried out in the night.

But, of course, mother instinct is louder (and much more persistent) than any auditory receptor.

It still works, even when across oceans and lands and seas (with the image of the American flag being raised, dramatic music for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Boston Pops Symphony in the background, as the camera slowly pans over to... wait, that image is just in my head... right?).

Okay, back to the subject.

As my kids have flown the coop, left the nest, grown up and scattered, etc. etc. etc., my husband claims that I completely avoided any sense of loss by simply getting more animals to take their place.

And my ultimate child-substitute is Murray (he's the slightly larger one on the couch to the left).

Murray sleeps on a bed next to mine (and a real bed, not a dog-bed), and waits patiently every night for me to go to sleep before he goes to sleep.

And I have a serious time-line I must follow each and every night before I get to sleep...

Unfortunately, the last one is the most important if I am actually going to go to sleep - by the end of 15 minutes after taking my nightly Ambien CR, I must be relaxed, under the covers, and mentally going through the plot and script lines from a favorite movie of mine (Jane Eyre, Princess Bride, Dave, or Serenity)... which almost always allows me to sleep into sleep.

But last night... well, my child was in need.

Murray, right at the 15 minute mark, suddenly began a coughing, sneezing almost seizure fit. Immediately my brain began churning out how to possibly do CPR on a dog - what emergency treatment would be open at 12:32 a.m. - and would there be any possible ill-effect from doing mouth-to-mouth with a canine?

He got over it fine on his own, but not before all my mom-instincts had gone on red-alert.

And my carefully balanced bedtime routine was totally and completely screwed.

It is amazing the things that can be accomplished at 4:26 a.m. - my closet got cleaned, all sorts of loose papers got filed, and my on-again, off-again internet connection was uninstalled, reinstalled, uninstalled again and finally each and every plug and connector to my CPU were un-and-re-plugged.

I sure hope I sleep tonight - and if not, I am fully prepared to administer any or all resuscitation methods necessary.

Just with a bottle of Listerine right by my bedside.

GETTING LOST

Years ago I learned that you could find a lot more interesting things if you occasionally got lost.

I learned this from getting lost.

A lot.

Some military families stick very 'close to home' when overseas; meaning they rarely venture outside of U.S. housing and shopping areas. They don't learn much of the language - they don't go out of their way to purchase 'locally' - their friends are other Americans.

We were extremely fortunate, therefore, with our first overseas assignment - we were sent to Dusseldorf, where there simply were no American facilities.

So there wasn't any choice, really. Had to learn German - enough to shop, and then to survive in church. Had to learn to take the tram and the trains. And got lost three thousand, four hundred and twenty-seven times on just the one-way streets alone in Dusseldorf (it would be up in the millions on just regular roads alone).

But by getting lost, I found out alternate routes to almost every place you'd want to go in Dusseldorf - I discovered several Schlosser (castles/mansions) that were not listed on the tourists runs - I began shopping at the farmers' markt - and my two girls were dressed in the most darling German clothing you can imagine (this was in the early 80's, when the exchange rate was VERY good).

So when we were transferred to Frankfurt, I continued to get lost - and then in Honolulu - in Maryland - and now in Arizona.

Today I didn't mean to get lost - I was attempting to find an address - but I can across something that was cute enough to warrant this long, rambling and judgmental blog.

A street name.

"Almostaranch"

Well, I thought it was cute.

WHO ARE YOU?

When I was growing up, my mother wanted to have a cute little girl dressed in pink and doing ballet - someone just like her granddaughter, my neice, who was a year older than I was, and was blonde, petite and blue-eyed with ringlets.

Unfortunately, instead, she got me instead.

Tonight a friend and I were discussing her Type A... well, perhaps Type A++ compulsive need - perhaps obsession - to have every part of her life to be clean, organized, and in alphabetical, color and tonal order.

She said she envied people like me who can "let go."

And it made me realize once again how many years it has taken me to get here - to be able to "let go."

 

To not have to have things immaculate.

To not worry about things I have no control over.

To not try to be someone I'm not.
 
And not envy those who seem to remain 'focused' and intent and get things down but at the cost of high blood pressure, tension, and the inability to relax.

To paraphrase a very old expression, I don't think anyone of their deathbed is going to wish they had spent more time cleaning the kitchen floor.

 
So I'm okay with less than clean floors (heck, I have two dogs - they're pretty DIRTY floors regardless of what I do), dust on almost anything, a bathtub that is non-gracefully degrading into a permanent yellow shade, and a porch that is rarely (if ever) swept.

Because I have a good relationships with all three of my kids, I have low blood pressure, and I can take naps almost anytime I wish to. And with my dogs.

I'm okay being me.

"AS YOU WISH"

"The Princess Bride" did not fare well when out in the theaters, but rapidly became a cult classic when released first on VHS and later on DVD, and will continue to be in the next two years when it is upgraded to the new Blue-Ray/Laser-Vision/Something-New-That-Will-Cost-All-Us-A-Lot-Of-Money-To-Swith-Over-To-But-Will-Also-Change-In-The Next-Few-Years-Regardless.

I am constantly amazed by how many people are impossibly familiar with  the dialog from this movie, however. It might simply be that it's become a favorite of LDS families - I mean, true love, clean lanuage, and the closest the movie comes to nudity is with Wesley stripped to the waist while on The Machine - and I end up hanging out with a lot of other Latter-Day Saints.

 

In fact, a friend of mine posted on Facebook one line from the movie, which then was posted by another person... and it kept going for an incredibly long time.

Like "Inconceivable!" -- The Cliffs of Insanity -- "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya" -- the Fire Swamp and the R.O.U.S.s -- and my absolute favorite, "As You Wish."

I think it's significant that the first "As You Wish"es (is there any other way to write that?) were from Wesley when he was still "Farm Boy," and Buttercup was ordering him around like a slave.

This is extremely backwards thinking, so bear with me - but it makes me think of how we might at first be responding to God's commandments out of a feeling of obligation, as a threat.

But then we (hopefully) realize that God only gives us commandments in order to bless us, to show His love for us.

As you wish,

Can you follow that convoluted reasoning?

And if you can, could you please explain it back to me now?

THE GREAT ESCAPE

Some of us as we get older slow down some.

For instance, I used to be able to run at a eight minute pace.... for about 20 feet. And now I can walk... for about 20 feet before I need to stop for breath.

Anyway, my mare, Sally, is a Thoroughbred, who are normally fairly fast - they've been breed for racing.

And did you know that Quarter Horses were originally bred for racing? Just shorter sprints - a quarter mile - which is where the name came from.

And I think that Sally did race at one time; her upper inside lip is tattooed. No, not with a rose or "Semper Fit", silly, but with registration numbers, which normally are only for racers.

So although she is somewhere in her late twenties, Sally can still run faster than my eight-year-old gelding... at least when she really really wants something.

But most of the time, she is the stately grande dame gazing at the horizon.

Unwittingly, today I pushed her right over the edge.

It's been the first day warm enough for me to wear shorts, and I felt sorry for my hot, sweating horses. It's still cold enough at night (low 40's) that they both still have fairly think coats, so I got the water hose out to soak them.

Sally loves getting hosed down - I think it brings back memories of the track, because she gets very flighty, prancing around and acting like a young filly.

Najale, my horse, absolutely detests water cascading over his back... or his sides... or his anything. But he will put up with it, under loud protest, because if Sally enjoys it, he is going to enjoy it, damn it.

But then, three hours later, when I went back into the pasture, Sally, still under the influence of cold water, simply bolted out from the gate and went on a merry tirade of gallovating around the house.

Normally I can catch Sally fairly easily, even when she gets out of her own, but today? No way. Until the creaks and groans of her older bones slowed her down and forced her to meekly make her way back home.

Whew. More exercise than I planned on for myself.

LEVELS OF JOY

Most of us have an inner child.

Some of us are born old souls.

However, please let me describe the ranges of age displayed by my 28 year old daughter in about six hours today:

Age 2: Sheer and complete joy when told you are going to a movie.

Age 6: The frustration of trying to get both shoes on while someone is waiting for you.

Age 9: Pride at being able to purchase a movie ticket on your very own.

Age 13:  Beginning to cry when mommy won't give you enough to buy popcorn also.

Age 15: Embarrasment by your mom picking you up outside the mall after the movie ends.

Age 18: Telling your mom the movie's entire plot to the point of being annoying.

Age 14: Trying to defend the disaster that your apartment is in, and mom has been cleaning the entire time you've been at the movie.

Age 10: Putting away, with loud and violent protest, five items mom had left for you to take care of.

Age 4: Dissolving into tears when being told what must be cleaned up before tomorrow.

I feel as though I have aged years.