Thrive Anyway

The past few weeks have been crazy. And I’m convinced that is the intention of this new situation we have with our government. You’ll notice I’m not naming names, political parties or internet barons. Why? Because, names have power and I’m not giving it to them. I know, it’s a shit show. But I’ve decided not waddle into it with them. I believe that’s what they want me/us to do.   

I resist. And I’ve found my own way to fight and some needed inspiration from this poem by Loren Brantz.

“In a time of hate

Love is an act of resistance

In a time of fear

Faith is an act of resistance 

In a time of misinformation

Education is an act of resistance 

In a time of poor leadership

Community is an act of resistance

In a time like this

Joy is an act of resistance

Resist. Resist. Resist.”

• Loryn Brantz

Love.

I’m going to send out love into the world as much as I can. I’m helping my family stay healthy and calm with words of support. I’m taking care of my grandsons and granddaughter by giving them a safe, loving place to have fun. 

Faith.

I’m going to send out faith instead of fear.  We are strong.  Each of us is powerful in our own hearts and our own lives. We will get through and beyond all of this because we believe not just in our rights but also the rights of others. 

Education.

I’m going to help educate myself and others by seeking and sending out facts and good information. Here’s a link to a Substack podcast written by an experienced broadcast journalist. https://miketurner921.substack.com/p/trouble-in-the-newsroom?r=2j4566

Community.

I’m sending appreciation out into the world as much as I can. I’m there to help my neighbors and friends. I’m making and donating crochet hats and scarves to keep people warm. I’m thanking the park workers who clean the bathrooms and trim the trees to keep the park beautiful. I’m wishing every walker I pass by a ‘good morning’ and a smile. 

Joy.

I’m going to continue to create whenever and wherever I can. I will not let fear stop me. I will continue to paint and sculpt and crochet. I will share it with anyone who wants and needs to create joy in their life too. 

This is my resistance. What’s yours?

A lesson in listening

Lots of words swirl around us all right now: scary headlines, angry quotes, rude social media comments and insults. It’s hitting all of us from all sides and while some of these words definitely need to be said, my question is are they being heard? Are the right people listening? 

I read a wonderful piece by Martha Beck on listening. And how the overwhelming amount of information right now can drive you to turn off, listen less when what’s needed is to listen more. Her idea of listening is something more than just using your ears. 

4 Levels of Listening. 

Martha Beck breaks down the seemingly simple act of listening into 4 levels that involve your whole

Level One is ear listening. You hear something, perhaps scary, and you leap into survival mode.  Conflicts jump to the surface instead of cooperation and compassion. 

Level Two is body listening. The scary words cause a reaction in your body. Noticing it, breathing into it, you can help your body stay calm. This helps you notice the truth of the situation and understand your feelings and the feelings of others. 

body. 

Level Three is heart listening. Once the body relaxes, discernment happens and you can use your heart to lean in or out of the situation. According to Beck, “check to see whether your heart wants to move forward or to back off. When you’re being lied to, you may feel an inexplicable desire to move away, even to literally run. When someone is telling the truth, even though the words may be hard to hear, you’ll feel a softening and opening in your chest, a desire to hear and understand more.”

Level Four is soul listening. Beck describes this type of listening as, “a  bolt of love flows through me and toward everyone around me. It’s two aspects of one consciousness connecting, hearing our shared experience in separate bodies.” And with this type of listening a connection is made. Even if you don’t agree with the words or person, soul listening allows you to see their confusion or pain. You don’t have to change your mind in the midst of fear or prejudice, you can listen with less fear, more awareness and compassion. 

In Martha’s words, “When I listen with my ears, body, and heart, my soul is available to hear the wise voices of millions who refuse to give in to fear and bitterness. Their aim is to create a world that is safe, just and happy for all of us.”

Now these are words, I need to not just hear but listen to and act on. 

With my whole body, heart and soul. 

Jilly, the Miracle Dog.

Today is Jilly's eleventh birthday!  It's amazing and joyful and, yes, a miracle.  Because 14 months ago, the vets gave Jilly only 3 months to live.  But true to her beautiful soul and stubborn nature, she's here next to me playing with her new Kong toy.

She is my sweetness and light.

She walks to the park and back with me every morning.  Most of the regulars, both dogs and humans, know her by name.  Some give her treats and others pet her but everyone she meets leaves with a smile on their face.  

She is also strong.  

She is very stubborn and willful and has a very keen sense of right and wrong.  When I do something wrong, like being late with her dinner, she lets me know loud and clear.  If she wants to play ball, well, we play ball.   If she doesn't want to come in from her sunny spot on the lawn, forget trying to get her to move.  And when I'm busy and she really wants my attention, she picks up a bamboo stick and runs away with it.

She may not have graduated to be a guide dog, but I know she is my dog and my guide.  I've learned a lot from Jilly over the years about how to stand your ground, be true to yourself and make time to play.  The most important lesson of all: don't take what doctors say to be true or  absolutely right.  

I'm so very thankful they were so very wrong.

They told me she would die in 3 months.  She didn't.  They told me not to play ball with her or she'd get worse.  She didn't.  They told me she had to have her spleen removed but even that wouldn't save her from death.  She didn't have her spleen removed and she lived.  

This morning, she woke up, walked over to my side of the bed and kissed my hand.  Ok, slobbered it, really.  I reached out, patted her and said, "Good morning, sweetness and light."

She's given me so much: love, silliness, faith, hope and lots of sloppy kisses.

Happy Birthday, Jilly, my sweet, miracle dog!  Here's hoping for much more love and silliness every morning for a long, long time.

May The Odds Be Ever In Jilly's Favor.

I was scared.  It all started on a very normal Monday morning but by the next day nothing felt normal anymore. 

Jilly woke up a year ago and just didn't seem to be her usual tail-wagging self.  As we started out on our walk, she lagged and I knew something was bothering her.  I just didn't know what.  So I walked her carefully back home and called the vet.

After three visits, X-rays, ultrasounds, blood tests, we got the 'bad' news call.  The vet told us Jilly had cancer on her spleen and she only had a few months to live.  If we did emergency surgery and then chemo, she might live another 6 months.  That is, if she lived through the surgery which is a big risk for the animal bleeding out and dying on the table.

We said no to surgery and chemo.  And we said yes to Jilly living out her life joyfully doing all her favorite things even if it was only for a few more months.  

Jilly went to the beach on vacation.  

She barked and barked and barked at us to play ball.  We hesitated. Why? Because the vet warned us that too much activity could kill her.

But, you see, Jilly knew differently.

Jilly woke me up every morning with tail wagging and kisses, then went back to her bed and waited for me to do her morning belly and ear rubs.  She had breakfast, a walk, more treats and a nap.  She ran up to all her favorite people at the park tail wagging.  She bounced at the ducks and geese.  She insisted on all her favorite treats: peanut butter cookies, chicken liver purée, eggs, waffles, yogurt, cheese, apples and oranges.  I even let her 'steal' tomatoes and strawberries from the garden.

I've learned a lot from Jilly throughout our relationship.  Her training.  Her difficulties.  But mostly,  I learned a lot about faith and fun and, yes, life.  

Every morning, I used to wake up worried that today would be her last day.

Now, I wake up smiling because every day that my hand gets covered with sloppy Jilly kisses is the best kind of day. 

Goodbye, Faith. Hello, ??

It's New Year's Eve.  It's a beautiful day with sun, blue sky and very cold temperatures and I love it.  Sunshine and a frosty temperature is my favorite kind of weather.  Don't ask me why.  Because I really don't know.  It's just feels exhilarating and joyful.

With that in mind, ah and the use of the word, mind...hmm...it's time to look at the word of the year from this year: Faith. 

As I've said off and on this year, I was uncomfortable with faith as the word of the year.  Mostly because for me, it has always had a huge weight attached to it associated with my Catholic upbringing.  It has always felt like something I had to have whether I wanted it or not.  More of a burden to carry than a dock on which to stand, supported above the ever changing waters of life.  I've written about the word and how it's changed for me many times this year.  Here are a few samples:  here, here, and here.

I've come to see faith as a friend, now.

Faith is the kind of friend that never fails to show up when you really need to know you're not alone.  When days are frustrating and disappointing, faith shows up at the end to sit with me.  And when out of the blue, something comes my way that I've wanted and needed, faith is there to pat me on the back and whisper, "I knew it would happen."

Faith has been, well, faithful this year.  Trudging through my days silently behind me in everything I do.  And I don't like goodbyes, but maybe, I don't have to really let it go.  Just let faith be there, maybe as it's always been...right beside me all along.  

It's been hard to choose a new word of the year for 2016.  But, perhaps, letting myself have last year's word, faith, beside me, it will all figure itself out in the end.

Holidays and Studio Days.

If there's one thing I've learned in my life on this planet so far it's this:  balance is a see saw not a balance beam. 

I really believe it because I see it all the time in my life but it's especially clear during the holiday season.  With all the loveliness of season to enjoy, I still yearn to get my hands in clay.  Throw.  Paint.  And carve away.  But my days can get easily eaten up with extra seasonal work outside the studio.  

I feel like I fight this every year as I try to balance my world between all the things I love. My desire to enjoy the season vs my desire to enjoy my studio. 

I love the season.  Putting out my snowflake trees.  Setting up my table with snowflake white tablecloth and red, felted runner and candles. Plumping up cozy pillows and throws for the sofa. Getting out the Santa pictures and picture books from my children's childhood. Filling the hutch with my Christmas Spode.  Cutting down a fresh Grand Fir tree and decorating it.  Baking cookies and shortbread.  I can really be a happy holiday maker around my home.

But.  You know there would be a but...I miss my clay.  It calls to me by day and whispers to me at night saying, "Play with me, paint me."  And sometimes, it shouts, "Trim me now or lose me and by the way, some of us need handles, ah, like, yesterday."  Ok, my clay can get very snarky sometimes.

I threw the other day and these pieces are drying but several bowls need trimming and the mugs I threw will need handles this week.  It's already Thursday...you do the math because I don't want to.  

But. Ah, yes, another one. I want to get that sweater someone wants before they're sold out and order that mobile, stocking and coffee maker, some of which by the way, were almost already gone.  And I couldn't find a few items, so I'll have to do more looking and that takes time away from my studio.

This is where I fall off the balance beam, every time.  I always thought or was taught that good planning and management and organization led to a smooth even ride but I see now that was not only not true but leads me feeling frustrated and unsuccessful.  

Ah. I see now, again and again, that life isn't a thing to be balanced but a ride to be lived.

The see saw ride of life. And I see that a see saw requires faith(that word of the year, again) that you will go down but you will also go up again.  

Now, who's going to have a talk with that snarky clay for me?

Fall and Faith.

Fall is not my favorite season.  At first, I deny the end of summer, the loss of blooms and ripe red tomatoes and roses. I leave out my porch furniture and flower-filled patio pots as long as possible. I'm not sure why but it always takes me a while to embrace it.  

It's not the falling leaves, because I love to collect my favorites on my morning walks. I take them back to my studio, roll out some clay, press the leaves into it and form some plates.

It's not the rain, because I love the puddle reflections the changing autumn light creates.

It's not the fog either, because I love the shadows and softness created around the trees and sun and the whispers of mystery flowing across the lake in the park.

It's not the colors, because I love all those bright yellow and crimson leaves against the bare black branches and the gray siding of my house.

It's the fear of change. It's the loss of blooms and growing fruits and sunshine and warmth. I know I'm not alone, it's a deep-seated animalistic survival instinct we all share whether or not we want to admit it. I didn't. I hid my 'silly' fears from myself for years. But not this year.

I'm going to see not just the beauty and inspiration and celebration in the season.  I'm going to trust it. Let the loss of leaves help me see the beauty of the structure beneath.  Feel the cold outside as I wrap myself up in layers of soft sweaters.

I'm going to embrace Fall with faith.  

Ah, there it is again, that word of the year: Faith.  Who knew?

Change.

I don't like change. 

When my life changes unexpectedly, I get fearful and angry.  In fact, I view change as something to avoid like a big, scary boogie man in the night.  To handle these changes, I set up systems, make lists and follow a routine.  

I also create change. 

As an artist, every time I pick up a ball of clay, roll out a slab, choose an under glaze, or pick up my paint brush, change happens.  After a piece comes off the wheel or out of the kiln, I make even more changes.  This is the work I love and why I love my work. 

Life changes all the time.

Every day with every breath, we change and the planet changes.  Seasons change.  Children change.  Work changes.  Even fun and frolic and friendships change.  Families change and this week, mine changed and expanded with the birth of my first grandchild.  This is a blessed and beautiful change. 

Change...it's a love - hate thing. 

Change is not something I can or, maybe should, control. When a change happens unexpectedly, it's scary.  When it happens willingly and creatively, like in my studio work, it's inspiring.  And, sometimes, however it happens it can bring more joy and life into your life than you could ever imagine.

Change and faith can go hand in hand, I see.  Faith in change.  That I can handle it and live with it.  Change with faith.  That I create it knowingly and lovingly.

Faith.  There's that word of the year, again.

  

Faith.

Every year, a word picks me.  I don't plan it or search for it or take it from some well made list.  Instead, I listen.  I wait.  I listen some more.  And sometime near the end of the year, a word appears.

This year, the word is faith.  I'm not a big believer in the traditional way, so the word seemed an odd one to come to me.  I've wrote several blogs on how faith has followed me this year, here, here and here.

But this week, it seems, the word has settled in me.  Softly.

No big revealing discovery or major turning point has come to me.  I can't say, "See! I had faith and because I had faith, I'm saved."  Because I don't need saving.  I'm fine.  Sure, I've had my ups and downs just like you but nothing that needed me to grasp for faith.  

But, maybe, that is the essence of faith.

A soft, settled sense of life.  Daily living breath by breath.  Doing what I do as it needs doing.  Waking and walking and working and stretching and sleeping until waking again.  Knowing that even though many things are unknown to me, I'm still here. 

Faith isn't a thing or an action, it is being.

Faith In Fun.

L

It's Spring Break in my neck of the woods and for many that means taking time off school or work.  Since I work for myself, asking myself for a vacation can get a little awkward. And, unfortunately, the conversation doesn't always go well.

Artist me to Boss me, "Ah, it's Spring Break, so I was wondering about taking a few days off?"

Boss me to Artist me, "You don't need a Spring Break. You're an artist, you play everyday."

It's true.  I am an artist.  I do use clay and create fun, functional ceramics, masks and sculptures.  I love what I do, most of the time.  But just because I love it and create whimsical, fun pieces doesn't mean it isn't work.  I have schedules and meetings and deadlines, too.

When my kids were little and had school breaks, I knew I wouldn't get any studio work done. I didn't fight it.  I gave into the rhythm and spent the time coming up with creative things to do for and with my children.  If they wanted to go skating, we did it.  A new game to play?  A movie?  Sure!  

Why do I find this so hard to do for myself?

Guilt? Shame? Fear? Sure. I fear that my clay will all dry out.  My pieces will not get finished and I'll waste my life.  If I take time off, time away, time out that I might never get back to work.  I will veg out on the window seat staring out the window.  Forever. Or run away to never Neverland and never come back. 

What if I actually did all the above and well, nothing bad happened?

What if I choose to have fun and faith in me, instead?  

Work of the heart is still work.  And doing good work also requires time out, time off and, sometimes, time away.

I'd write more, but, well it's Spring Break.  Time to go outside, smell the lilacs and rosemary, take time off and stare out the window.  See ya later!

Faith in Furry Wisdom.

It's been two weeks now since Jilly was diagnosed with a tumor on her spleen.  She was weak and tired and maybe in pain.  But now, she's the jolliest of Jillys.

She feels good.  She feels joy.  She wonders, what's my problem?

I don't want to lose her.  Not now, ever and certainly not yet.  The vet said I could walk her but not let her get too rambunctious.  No running.  No jumping. 

She wants to play ball.  She's barking at me and throwing the ball at my feet.  She's standing in her ball playing spot in the yard holding the ball in her mouth.  Wagging. Bowing. Circling. Doing everything she can to get me to play.

She's saying, "Play with me.  Now."  

I say, "I can't.  Doctors orders."

She barks even louder and with more frustration, play with me!  I'm too scared to lose her.  That I've lost all joy in her sweet, silly ball game.

Jilly wants to play.  Now.  Today.  

The ball game is her favorite way to play.  I throw.  She jumps and catches and circles back to me.  She faces me with the ball in her mouth and barks.  When I reach for the ball, she backs away, wagging and barking some more.  If I step forward to take the ball again, she runs away.  My job is to stand still, ask her to drop the ball and wait.  When she's ready, she drops it and the game continues.  

Throw.  Run. Catch. Bark. Drop the ball. Repeat.

This is her joy.  Where is mine?  More importantly where is my faith?  Faith in the simplest of things in life like joy and enjoyment of things that Jilly and I both love to do. We love to play ball.  And we love to take walks in the park and she made it to the park everyday this week! 

My sweet, sweet Jilly is trying so very hard to get my attention and I'm not listening. She wants to enjoy the sunny afternoon in the backyard.  She wants me to enjoy it too. 

"Life," she barks at me is simple, "Play ball."  Now.

Her faith in herself is unshakeable.  My faith is always shaky.  

Maybe that's why faith found its way into my life as my word of the year.  I obviously have lessons to learn here.  My lesson for this week...is to get over my fears, get into life and have the faith to live it.  

That means having faith in Jilly's furry wisdom.  Gotta go, it's time to play ball.

As The Wheel Turns: Faith, Flow and Plans.

I'm sitting on my window seat watching the sunset.  I can't believe this day has passed so quickly and how, equally quickly, my plans for the day went sideways.

Plans and the unplanned.

My plan for my day was simple.  Walk the dog.  Throw.  Trim and clean up my wheel and tools.  Put my new pieces in the studio to dry.  Eat lunch.  Clean myself up, after all, working in clay is messy.  Put my throwing towels and gear in the wash.  Run a few errands.  Do a few needed chores around the house.  Write my blog.  Make dinner.  

My plan started out as planned.  I walked.  I threw.  But as I was coming inside with my new pieces, I heard my phone beep an incoming text message from family.  I picked it up and found out my son had cut his finger and needed help.   

Faith in the face of fear.

Covered in clay, I dashed around putting pieces in the studio, buckets in the sink, and tools in water.  I changed out of my wet clay clothes and headed out the door to the urgent care center with clay under my fingernails and in my hair.

The urgent care center was packed.  There were toddlers with broken arms, young people using walkers and many, many with coughs and colds.  We were the third in line for the suture room and it was only 1pm!  Two hours later, my son had a tetanus shot, a finger sutured with glue, and was devouring breadsticks and soup in my kitchen.  He was okay and I was grateful.  Especially to see him wolfing down his favorite soup that I just happen to have in my pantry.  

Flowing with faith through the unplanned.

Everything that really needed to get done, got done.  No, I didn't get those errands run today.  I still haven't done the chores around the house or made dinner, yet.  But I finally got the clay out of my hair and nails.  And I'm writing my blog.   

 I let go, flowed with what life handed me. Most importantly, I was there for my son when he needed me. Because when he called, he had faith I'd be there for him. I was and will always be, plans or not.  

As The Wheel Turns: Firing and Faith.

I'm firing a glaze load in my kiln today.  It's an essential step to producing functional ceramics and my least favorite part of the process.  Because it's the most scary for me.

Why? Because it's the step where I have the least control.

When I'm throwing at the wheel, I can go fast or slow.  Stop when it feels right.  Decide the piece is a keeper or keep working.  At the under glazing stage, I decide what colors go where.  How much detail I want.  Whether I do a stamp or sgraffito design.

Bisque stage is easy.  The pieces go into the kiln and out they come.  A little sanding might be needed or another layer of color but that's it, really.

Enter firing.

Glaze firing is a whole different chapter and one filled with potential dangers that threaten to take a good piece down the road to ruin and the trash can out back.  The glaze can bubble, crack or peel.  It can be too thin, so the piece isn't well covered or too thick so the underglaze painting and detail I did is lost.  Or the clay can be faulty and bloat during the final firing phase making a successful piece that took weeks to complete, a failure in just hours.  I've researched glazes, glazing methods, meticulously recorded my firing results.  Sometimes it's good, and sometimes not.

Enter faith.

It may be my word of the year, but it's not something I've ever really embraced.  You could say that for most of my life, I've had very little faith in faith.  I realize I've always thought of faith as a cop out.  Something people said or did when they couldn't or wouldn't take action.  And I've always viewed situations from an active perspective of research, method and results.

But once I close that kiln lid, all my work is done.  I've gone as far as I can go by myself. The rest is up to time and temperature. And, well, faith.

It's a new year with new work and a new word.  Faith.

Maybe it's time to have a little more of it.  My dog, Jilly, seems to have it.

2015 Word of the Year.

It's been a process to figure out this year's word.  Some years, it's easy and just comes to the surface.  This year, it's been a struggle.  

Last year's word was flow.  And like the word itself, it just appeared to me.  It became a big undercurrent in my life, teaching me new lessons, showing me old blocks and rocks in my way and helping me move through my last 365 days slowly, quickly, smoothly, roughly and circutitiously.  I wrote many journal entries and blogs about the teachings of flow.  

Truth:  I didn't want to let go of flow.  

But the year was ending and I knew that true to the word flow, it was time to move on.  I began my search for a new word for the new year.

Looking, listening, writing and reading.  Nothing flowed out.  

So, I did what I do when I'm stuck, I make a list.  I started my list making with words I wanted to let go of...fear, guilt, fighting, comparison, defensiveness.  Then using my trusty Thesaurus, I made a list of the antonyms of the words above...calm, innocence, peace, connect, safe, secure.  That didn't ring any new year bells for me, so I added a list of related words...ease, encourage, nourish, empathy, serenity, light, confident, happy and faith.

Ah ha:  I was forcing the flow of my new word of the year.  

Why? Because a word I am most uncomfortable with kept popping up like a bubble underneath water.  The word: Faith.  I  was raised in a very conservative, religious situation.  I was required to attend church 6 out of 7 days a week for decades.  To me, the word faith brings up bad memories of doing and going and being something I'm not in order to obey someone else's rules.  

But...what would Merriam-Webster say?

Faith  noun  : a strong belief or trust in someone or something.  That's the first definition.  There are others that relate to religion and god and religious systems.  But the very first definition is about someone or something. 

Belief.  Trust.  In someone...me?  In something...life? art? flow?

Yes.  I see it clearly now.  Flow and faith bubbling, twirling, cascading and rippling along together.  To flow, I need to trust and to believe.  So, maybe, I've always had faith and didn't know it.  But maybe, now, it's time to be happy and show it.

Here's to the New Word of the Year for 2015...Faith.