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Tag Archives: perfection
Let it be a process. Those were the words I heard last night. Gentle words. A hearty reminder. I went back to school last week. But before I am “official,” I signed up to take a crash course in German. My PhD program is old school (alte Schule, if you will) – I must learn a research language. For now, it is a hoop to jump through. A requirement
Our community lost a dear member this past week. There is a big hole in our congregation; one that many of us have pondered in conversation how it will be filled? I spent time watching the eclipse this week which happened to be on the same day she passed. The world faded to gray for just a moment. I burned my retina trying to see what was happening. Between waiting
Spring is here. I was doubtful for a bit with late rainstorms and typical gray mornings, but the mockingjays mockingbirds are sunning every morning reminding me their slumber is over. A few curious things have happened in the past couple weeks. 1. I finished my first school year as a faculty member. This leads to 2. I am fully entrenched in working and researching for the next book. Which means
The sermon yesterday was on letting things slow us down to lead us to the table; a table that holds bread and wine, also promise, tradition and hope. An altar of forgiveness and remembrance — of radical hospitality. It is an embodying act, this eating. Sure it can be rote, but the meaning comes sometimes subtly and other times overcome with tears or joy. It’s the love of what this
I was reminded yesterday by a new friend of a book I own. It’s by Keri Smith. I bought it six months ago. Six months where it has barely been opened. My fingers have pawed through the pages; my mind has wandered through the: “When could I”s, “should I”s, and “will I”s. And so the book sat, untouched, within reach, but just staring at me while I looked in the
I’m lying in bed at 3:00p.m. fully clothed with the covers over me. It’s been a long week. And it’s about to get longer…. I hope. Nate is outside adjusting the rain cover over the chickens; I can see him out the windows. I can also see the fava beans bending over towards the earth and if I squint, I can make out the new seedlings that are coming in
The fruit trees are blossoming. The promise of fruit – someday. But definitely the promise of spring’s entrance. I used to correlate spring’s arrival with the bathing suits’ overnight appearance at Target. Summer is almost here, I would chant in my head seeing spring as something to survive to get to freedom. Now spring is one of my favorite seasons. There is a Zen saying that when the first bud
Sometimes I don’t see the good. I hear the wind and get scared more of our roof will blow away and take veggies with it. I hear the chickens at 6am going berserk and I run out with broccoli leaves bribing them to shut up so the neighbors don’t turn us in. But then I drive to work and see how the wind has carried the clouds and smog away.
Posted in A Beautiful Mess, Anecdotes
Tagged a beautiful mess, Community, food, perfection, perfectionist recovery, spiritual direction, teaching, Women's issues, Writing
1 Comment
There were many titles I was considering for this post. Possible contenders were: “What not to make on a weeknight” followed shortly by, “What the heck was I thinking?” and the ever so subtle, “Well, was it worth it?” I had been staring at the last lonely pumpkin for months. Winter squash are my prized possessions; the darlings of my pantry; the decorations on my counter… until they are gone.
Posted in A Beautiful Mess, Home.Food.Garden, Homesteading
Tagged a beautiful mess, Dinner, food, Homestead, perfection, Urban Farm, Writing
2 Comments
I am in my room in Houston after speaking on night one. I am full. What a lovely life-giving evening. The kind where energy collides and you meet people you feel you have known all along in this crazy journey. What a blessing work is. And so I feel I must share this Celtic blessing for work in gratitude. I read this before I spoke tonight – I felt as