VivreVivant

Change - a Constant

2011-04-27T22:26:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's been awhile since I've written. Many reasons - nothing specific, just "normal" life. But is there such a thing as a "normal" life? I'm busy...work, school, painting, family, friends. Some of my friends and family think I'm "too busy". I suppose one can be too busy but I would not classify my life as hectic or out of control. I have good time management, am organized, don't miss appointments (though I have declined on social events due to the enormity of homework I sometimes have...those darn papers!), and find time for myself to paint, watch television and movies, read and even take a nap (love Saturdays!).

Always remember that the future comes one day at a time. ~ Dean Acheson

Change - to alter, modify, redo, rework, revise, revamp - happens everyday. Our bodies change. Our relationships change. Our moods change. Our dreams change. Change is everywhere and in everything. It surrounds us and is constant. Sometimes we don't acknowledge change because with change can come fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of failure.

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear, not absence of fear. ~ Mark Twain

The times they are a changin' - and changing fast. Jobs some people have today were never conceived of a few years ago. Technology has infiltrated every aspect of our lives - cell phones can do almost everything from take photos and videos, update the weather, provide driving directions, send and receive email, update our Facebook and Twitter accounts and deposit money into our bank account. We can record our favorite television shows and watch when we want and skip all the commercials. We don't need to mail birthday cards or party invitations, we simply email. The only items I receive in the mail are catalogs and bills. My heart skips a beat if I receive a personal piece of mail, like a birthday or holiday card.

Future shock is the shattering stress and disorientation that we induce in individuals by subjecting them to too much change in too short a time. ~ Alvin Tofler

These things I know:

Change is constant
One needs courage to embrace change
Technology is a part of the change we are all experiencing
Stress can be caused by too much change

Proposed Solution:

Take a deep breath
Take another deep breath
Relax your body
Live ONE DAY AT A TIME; or, one MOMENT at a time
Acknowledge and accept change
Everything will work out as it should - it always does

The Memories We Keep

2010-12-30T22:11:00.000-06:00

It's always around this time of the year - after Christmas and the week before New Year's, that I become a bit sentimental. I stopped making resolutions years ago...if I want to change something I'll do it when I want, not at a predetermined time of the year with everyone else. And how many of us truly keep our resolutions anyway? This is also the time of year when memories of the past trickle thru my mind, often passing thru and not stopping, but sometimes, or rather oftentimes, stopping and sitting a bit...memories of my childhood, memories of family time, friends, school, memories of happy times and memories of sad times.

On January 4 will be the three year anniversary of my grandmother Juanita's death. She was a vibrant 92-year old woman who lived a long and happy life. I was honored to speak at her eulogy. Sadly, my grandma Marie, who will turn 92 this week, is currently in a nursing home and visiting her has brought many memories back of both my grandma Juanita and my own mother, who passed away in 1993. Seeing those you love ill is difficult, sad and to me, brings a feeling of helplessness. If I could only take away the pain, I would.

I thought I would share the eulogy I gave at my grandmother Juanita's wake almost three years ago. Both of my grandmothers were forces of nature in my life and I grew up feeling like I had three mothers - Juanita, Marie, and my mother, Judy. I feel fortunate to have memories of all three of them that will always be remembered, will always be cherished and will always be thankful for.

Grandma Marie, Christmas, 2009....she turns a "young" 92 this week. Happy Birthday Grandma!

Read at the Eulogy for Juanita Vevea, Wednesday, January 9, 2008:

Thank you to all who have come to pay their respects to my grandmother Juanita. I am both honored and sad to stand before you to offer a glimpse into the life of a woman who was more than a grandmother to me. In the 45 years I was honored to have her in my life, grandma taught me, through her words and actions, to live a life of thankfulness, caring, grace, empathy, compassion, humor and above all, the importance of God, family and friends. I, along with many others, am left with memories to fill a lifetime. As the firstborn grandchild, grandma often referred to me as her 5^th child following my father Russell, Joyce, Doug and Mark. After the loss of my own mother, Judy, and the subsequent loss of my father, Russ, both of my grandmothers filled a maternal role more than ever. I feel like I’ve lost a mother all over again.

Family was above all. the most important thing in grandma’s life. She and Lawrence raised four children and she spent her lifetime caring for Doug, or rather they cared for each other. In the past few years their roles reversed somewhat that Doug was grandma’s main caregiver. His urging of her to go out to lunch and shopping I believe kept her more active than if she was living alone. Juanita adored her grandchildren – Rachel, Angie, Nathan, Alison and was so proud to be a great-grandmother to Cooper and Maggie. Every time she received a photo or heard news about one of us she was on the phone to share the news with the rest of the family.

We each hold within us memories of Juanita – memories of family gatherings, birthdays, and holidays. Memories of losses – the loss of her husband, son, daughter-in-law, her brothers. In my heart, it is the memories often associated with my childhood that I hold dear. Memories of boating and snowmobiling on Prior Lake, memories of Juanita and Lawrence picking up my sister, Rachel, and I in Ortonville and spending a couple of weeks before school with both sets of our grandparents – going back with new school shoes and a new pencil box full of school supplies. She was the one I told when I got my first kiss, who took care of me when I was ill my 2^nd year of college and had to leave school for awhile, who taught me to be assertive but gentle, kind at all times, gracious and caring. Memories of Thanksgiving with plates brimming over with more starches than anyone should ever eat – the requisite mashed potatoes and dressing, but also wild rice, noodles, sweet potatoes and lots of gravy and the homemade cranberry sauce that looked like a piece of modern art shaped like a Greek pyramid. A few of us probably remember the kadolflke-making event at Grandma Ella’s and the lutefisk debacle in the 70s. I remember grandma underneath the kitchen table trying to coax Shane, her dog, and her getting bit. I remember sitting on the couch holding her hand hours after Grandpa Lawrence died. I remember her driving – us passengers often white-knuckled as she had a bit of a heavy foot. When my own son Cooper was born and was in neonatal intensive care, she was the first person I saw when I stepped off the elevator to see my son for the first time. Her love was ever present. I remember the utter sadness and despair she felt when our mother, her daughter-in-law, was diagnosed with cancer.

Juanita was very adamant about the pursuit of education. In her life, one could not have ‘too much’ education. Grandma was one of the smartest women I knew – she was a voracious reader and used to read 2-3 books a week. It was important to her that her children and grandchildren receive as much education as possible. She was very proud of the accomplishments of her children and grandchildren and they have done much to make her proud and continue to do so. As I continue my own education, she was the one that pushed me forward and kept me going always telling me you’re never too old to go to school.

A lifelong Catholic, grandma was a religious and spiritual woman who prayed daily and attended Mass when she could. When anyone was going through a difficult time, she would always say ‘extra’ prayers. I always believed that grandma’s prayers were heard first as things always got a bit better after her ‘extra’ prayers. She was loyal to her family and every Memorial Day up until this past year made the trek to the family plots to place fresh plants for her parents, aunt and uncle and husband.

There are so many memories, warm thoughts, enduring moments…and so many things I will now miss especially the daily phone call, the warm hug and kiss, the “I love you”, her saying how proud she was of me. I miss my grandmother. I miss her smile, her laugh, the sparkle in her eyes. I miss watching her fix her hair and put make-up on, her pretty ruby lips. I miss her charm, her humor, her sensibility. I miss the family rituals she honored and protected. I miss the stories of her life. She was the matriarch of the Vevea family and it is with utmost sadness and grief that an important chapter in our family has passed. But it is the memories that we will hold on to and tell our children. It is these memories that I hold closest to me and know that though grandma is in heaven – and finally after so many, many years – free of the crippling pain that she suffered – she is with those that she so dearly loved that died before her and know she is having the party of her life. My dear, beautiful, loving, caring grandma…say ‘hi’ to grandpa, mom and dad for Rachel and I okay? Let them know that we think of them often and know that you will continue to watch over us as you did when you were alive. Thank you for your guidance and love, thank you for showing me how to be a good mother, a good friend, a good sister, a good daughter. Thank you for living a life that exemplifies what goodness is and what ideal I should strive for. Thank you for sharing 92 years of your life with all of us. Thank you for your prayers and blessings. Good-bye grandma…may the peace and love of God surround you and keep you and may His light be ever with you.

A grandmother is a little bit parent, a little bit teacher, and a little bit best friend.
-- Author Unknown

The Labels We Use

2010-11-24T22:00:00.001-06:00

This semester I'm taking two classes, advanced research methods and advanced research writing (keep reading this will be more interesting, I promise). In the writing class we are working on our literature reviews, the final project for the class. We have discussed and worked on various aspects of our literature reviews - annotated bibliographies, abstract, APA style, headings, etc. The main topic of discussion this past week was on LABELS.

One of the aspects I most appreciate about our writing professor, Dr. F-L, is that we do group activities and discussions and she promotes much interaction between our small class. When it came to the discussion of labels, she gave us a few minutes to list 1) a label about ourselves that we DO like, and 2) a label about ourselves that we DO NOT like. Though this may seem like an easy or fast exercise, it caused me pause to think about the labels me and others use to describe ourselves. And more importantly, what labels do we use to describe others. For example, labels given to small children ("at risk", "poor", "single parent household") oftentimes stay with them throughout their childhood and into adulthood.

Labels can be descriptive ("intelligent", "pretty"), positive ("great personality", "easy to get along with"), negative ("pessimist", "mean-spirited"), along with being based on one's ethnicity, religion, sexuality, gender and/or age.

When I listed my "labels" I had many more I didn't like then I liked. The labels that I appreciate and like are: mom, single, female. The ones I don't like are: white, divorced, middle class, over-educated, plus size, daughter of an alcoholic. As the group shared their personal labels, we each got to know one another on a more intimate and personal level. Labels (both liked and disliked) ranged from feminist, at risk, middle class, African, Native American, working mother, Black, impersonal, to Jewish. In listening to my fellow classmates and professor, I reflected on how we so easily label others and perhaps how unfair it is to do so.

Is classifying and placing people in silos and labeling them on their physical appearance, religious background, color of skin, ethnicity, level of education, political affiliation, marital status, age, economic state or sexual preference fair? Is labeling valid in performing reliable and ethical research? Does labeling cause more harm than good?

The U.S. Census Department completed the 2010 census, and in doing so labels the U.S. population for a variety of socioeconomic demographic statistics that will affect government funding, at all levels, for years to come. Not only does the government (at all levels) utilize census information, but businesses do as well for targeted marketing campaigns to segments of the population, such as the growing Hispanic population in the United States.

This past week I have thought often about LABELS and reflected on the use of them in my own communication methods and thought processes. Perhaps it's time for us to not label people (or ourselves) as fast as society would like us to. We are not a country of silos, described only by our beliefs, color of skin, marital status, age or how much money we make, but rather a country, and world, full of fascinating, interesting, remarkable men, women and children who, instead of being labeled, should be treated with respect and fairness. Isn't that how you want to be treated?

Let's vote for a label-free world.

"Once you label me, you negate me." ~ Soren Kierkegaard

On Love

2010-10-23T23:07:00.005-05:00

Love...the emotion, the feeling, the word, the action that brings us together, bonds people for eternity, expresses the deepest of feelings.
Have you ever been in love? Truly in love? The kind of love that consumes your being, your life, your mind and thoughts, a love that has no boundaries, no beginning, no end. To love is to risk and to accept love is to be vulnerable.

I Knew I Loved You

Maybe it's intuition
But some things you just don't question
Like in your eyes
I see my future in an instant
and there it goes
I think I've found my best friend
I know that it might sound more than
a little crazy but I believe

I knew I loved you before I met you
I think I dreamed you into life
I knew I loved you before I met you
I have been waiting all my life

There's just no rhyme or reason
only this sense of completion
and in your eyes
I see the missing pieces
I'm searching for
I think I found my way home
I know that it might sound more than
a little crazy but I believe

A thousand angels dance around you
I am complete now that I found you
(lyrics by Savage Garden)

I've been in love, out of love, broken from love but never afraid of love or wanting to give up on love. One simply has to open their heart, put their fears away, be not afraid and open your soul to receive the greatest gift one can give another...their love.

We all need and deserve to have love, to have someone to love and be loved. Love is the strongest emotion two people can express to each other. Along with love comes commitment, commitment to grow, share and continue on a tremendous journey together. With love comes adoration and adoration is respect, trust, honesty, intimacy, affection, communication, support, and commitment. Be not afraid to love; for it is love that holds us all together.

Je vous adore et aime

A New Season and New Beginnings

2010-09-24T15:00:00.000-05:00

Autumn...my favorite season. It's not just the change in weather (not a fan of high temperatures) or the impending holidays (Thanksgiving being my most favorite), but the earth seems to swirl underneath. Leaves, so vibrantly green and in full bloom, start to transition in color to blazen shades of orange and yellow and then drop off the trees to blanket the earth below them covering the ground like a warm winter blanket. The air takes on a different scent, the smell of leaves burning in backyard piles and the cool crispness of the air sends a slight shiver down my body. Autumn, to me, is also a time of transition; even more so than summer, spring or winter. I always equate the autumn season with the start of school and the laziness of summer seems to turn overnight to the busyness of school activities, fall sports, craft sales, holiday shopping and preparation for the upcoming holidays.

No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.
- John Donne

Personally, I seem more energetic in the fall. When nature is winding down and preparing for the dormancy of winter, I gain more energy and become more engaged in activities. Painting class began last week and I was giddy like a kid on the first day of kindergarten - the first brushstroke of paint on canvas felt enlivening. I'm also back at school and am with a great group of students who I already consider new friends. My school comrades are an eclectic and diverse group coming from different educational and career backgrounds...teachers, law enforcement, social services, academia...I feel recharged after each class from the intellectual and innovative discussions. I've also had the the immense pleasure of meeting new people recently who are fascinating to talk with, listen to and learn from.

I think I'm going to go pick up some fallen leaves and place them under a piece of paper and color over them...like I did as a child. Remember? My own autumn collage. My ode to a new season; my favorite season.

Circle of Friends and Family

2010-09-04T00:01:00.001-05:00

It's been a few months since I've updated my blog. Basically, I took the summer off from writing. Now it is Labor Day weekend and autumn seems just around the corner, especially as I sit near my patio door, half open, with a cool breeze coming through the livingroom. The last few months and this summer have seemed surreal. If you are one of my close friends (this includes family), you know what has happened in my personal life and I have decided to not go into specifics in this blog - it is not the platform nor the appropriate place to write and publish all that has happened to me personally.

I did not attend any art fairs, carnivals, summer events or concerts this year, though my life has seemed like a roller coaster at an amusement park - up and down, fast curves, shrills, thrills and screams. I have cried more this year than I have in my entire life and felt a range of emotions that I didn't know existed within my being. The emotions and related anxiety and stress took a toll on my physical self of which I am recovering. I am also recovering emotionally and thank a supportive, wonderful, loving, protective group of friends and family that encircle me like a warm blanket.

I am so very thankful and fortunate to have in my life people who have shown tremendous support, great help (I moved), gave hugs, kisses, time and most importantly, their friendship. To my friends and family who have shown tremendous support these past few months, words are not enough to express the gratitude, appreciation and love I have for each and every one of you. You have shown me what true and honest friendship is and I hope that I am the friend to you that you are to me.

Many of my friends are going through their own personal 'crises' right now - some are unemployed or losing their jobs, some have ill relatives, some are having relationship problems. Know that I am here for you as you are for me. Together, friends form bonds that help each other get through the trials and tribulations that occur in our lives.

Though this summer was full of much transition for me, I am looking forward to autumn, my favorite season of the year. I'm grateful for a terrific son who is in his 3rd year of college and doing great; I'm excited to start painting again in a couple of weeks; and I'm elated to begin an EdD program at Saint Mary's University of Minnesota. I'm happy for my best girlfriend who got married to a wonderful man in May; I love the 'girl time' I spent with my 4-year old niece this summer (miss you Maggie!); I'm thankful for a sister who calls often to see how I'm doing; I'm proud of my 4 cousins who got married this summer and another one who is engaged (3 out of the 4 are brothers!); but mostly, I'm thankful. It is true that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger...and some of the decisions I made this past summer - be them forced or not - I realize are for the best.

Sending my love and gratitude to my family and friends....always, Renee.

My Best Friend's Wedding

2010-05-11T21:50:00.002-05:00

I've known C for over 20 years. We met at our first "official" jobs (meaning: 40 hours per week with benefits). Over the years we've gone thru much together - marriage, divorce, children, jobs, boyfriends, weight gain, weight loss....along with tears and laughter. Lots of laughter. C has an insatiable personality that lights up a room the minute she enters. She is loving, affectionate, and caring. C is also strong, assertive and confident. C calls every woman she meets - even if she doesn't know them - 'girlfriend'. As in 'thank you, girlfriend' after being served at a restaurant.

Over the years we have known each other, even though there were periods of time we didn't keep in touch (life events can sometimes make this happen), we grew closer and every time we talked and saw each other picked up where we left off. Since I moved to Minneapolis almost 6 years ago, C and I don't see each other as often, the last time being over a year ago. C flew to Minneapolis for a fun-filled and activity-packed 4 days. As soon as C got off the plane she said she had something to show me, something new. We weren't in the house 5 minutes and she unzipped her pants and pulled her shirt up to show a colorful artistic rendition of flowers flowing down the side of her body, not unlike the art she designs on the cakes she decorates at her restaurant in Rapid City (SD). C had fun showing her body art to everyone she met during her trip here. That's one thing I love about C - her whimsy, her freedom, her authenticity.

C is my best friend and we refer to each other as 'sister'. We call each other 'sis' along with other nicknames only the two of us use. This weekend, my 'sis' is getting remarried and I will stand beside her as maid-of-honor. I have not met her betrothed, J, though I have talked to him on the phone a few times. I can only imagine the wonderful and loving man he is for C would not be with anyone otherwise. I am happy for them. I am happy for the life they are starting together. I am happy my best friend has another best friend. I am not losing a sister but rather gaining a brother-in-law.

Sisters function as safety nets in a chaotic world simply by being there for each other.

~Carol Saline

New Paintings_Color Studies

2010-03-28T19:40:00.001-05:00

While I was in graduate school (the past 5 years), I often thought of what I would do after I finished. Oh yes, I definitely was going to continue working full-time, but the time spent studying, for me, had to be replaced. Never one to sit quiet, I'm used to keeping myself busy. For the past 3 years or so, I looked forward to painting. I had never painted before and had no idea if I would like it - or even be good at it (still don't know if I am). But it didn't matter. The thought of swirling colors on a palette, seeing the variance in hues and tones, and slathering wet paint on a white untouched canvas seemed...well, liberating.

Promptly after graduating last summer I registered for an acrylic painting class at a local fine arts center. After purchasing the supplies - 3 brushes, 4 tubes of paint (is that all?), a canvas and a roll of paper towel, I excitedly waited for the first night of class. The instructor has a MFA in painting and is a kind and patient teacher. The first night of class we painted our color palette with primary colors (red, blue, yellow) and then secondary colors (green, orange, purple). Oh I how loved twirling the colors together to form different variations...and with only 3 tubes of primary colors and a tube of white I was able to create almost every color I desired. Black, gray, brown and purple became challenging for me, but I figured it out.

Fast forward 7 months and I'm about to take my 3rd round of acrylic painting classes at the fine arts center and am in the midst of a second round of 'artists studio plus' on Wednesdays - an open studio located a mere 7 minutes from my home. I now paint twice a week. Painting has easily replaced 'studying' and for me is a form of therapy. When I paint I let my mind go free, never knowing what I will paint until the brush hits the canvas.

I guess I may be a bit unconventional as I don't paint from a still life or photograph. I have painted some pieces from my memories of the beautiful Black Hills in the winter - snowcapped pine trees, softly lit pink skies. I admire the work of Cy Twombly, so have tried to paint my own type of flowers. And I'm trying my hand at abstract (the paintings below). Using pumice, modeling compounds, different painting implements, and water has allowed the paint to express itself on the canvas rather than me controlling the paint. Where it goes and where it stops is up to the paint, not the artist.

No, I don't plan on 'quitting my day job' and becoming a full-time painter but I am both thankful and fortunate to portray my many inspirations thru paint. There is so much more I want to paint - the sensuous of a nude woman's silhouette, the autumn evening sky...ideas churn around and inspire me for my next project.

"The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?"

Pablo Picasso

New Paintings! March - 2nd round

2010-03-20T23:06:00.001-05:00

Click here to view these pictures larger

Leaving Home

2010-03-07T21:44:00.000-06:00

This past Friday I dropped my son off at the airport for his spring break flight to Tucson, AZ. Not only is this his first 'official' spring break trip, but he is also traveling to his potential new city. Our son notified us last summer that he is, well, bored living in the Midwest and desires to explore another part of the country where it is 'warmer'. He has two friends going to the University of Arizona, both business majors as himself, so C researched, applied, got accepted and tomorrow afternoon has his first meeting with the business school at the University of Arizona. He hopes to move and start this fall for his junior year.

Though initially I had a difficult time accepting that C may be moving 1679.74 miles (25 hours and 25 minutes by car) away, I can understand his desire to try a new city, move to a new area, go to a bigger college, and perhaps leave winter behind. For this my son and I have much in common. The need to try new things, explore, and take risks is a personal trait I have had to come to terms with myself; sometimes feeling guilty for wanting change in my life (must be the Catholic upbringing). I credit C with doing this by himself. He understands the risks (mostly the high cost of out-of-state tuition), of being far from family and of having only two friends that he knows in a new city. Though I'm sure by the end of his spring break week in Tucson he'll have more friends.

My son, C, is a great kid. He is smart, very witty, outgoing, sensitive, charming, approachable, and focused. College has changed him for the better - he is embracing his future, focusing on his studies and keeping the end goal in sight. Does it really matter, in the realm of life, where we graduate from college? Probably not. Does it matter that we enjoy the journey? Absolutely. I applaud my son for wanting to enjoy the journey, for doing the work, for keeping his goals in sight. I applaud my son for his ability to make and keep friends, getting better grades in college than in high school, for willing to take risks and move from family and friends to try something new and continue on his path to success.

Wherever C will live, he will always have two homes - one with dad, and one with mom. Home is in the heart and not in a physical place. I hope C enjoys his trip to Tucson this week...I hope C enjoys the journey of his life.

Work/Life Balance

2010-02-19T22:38:00.001-06:00

Once a month I have a scheduled lunch with two co-workers. Usually we grab 30 minutes and dine in our company cafeteria, catching up on what's new with each other but end up talking mostly about work. Though the three of us work in the same department, we don't work in the same area and can go days without seeing or talking to each other. Today was our monthly lunch but only two of us could meet. Our third lunch partner didn't join us for lunch - she decided to work over the lunch hour so she wouldn't have to work tomorrow...on SATURDAY.

My friend and I decided to go OUT for lunch today and enjoyed a 45-minute uninterrupted lunch. We did the usual 'how is work going' conversation ("fine", "busy"), caught up on recent travels (her to South Carolina), and then at the end of our salads began talking about alone time morphing into a conversation on work/life balance. I know I've written about 'time' before (or rather the lack of), but my co-worker and I found a common link that we never discussed before...we both have a need, or rather a yearning, for alone time. Some people don't like being alone or having time by themselves, rather keeping themselves busy or surrounded by others. Have you ever gone to a movie by yourself? Ate at a restaurant by yourself? Went to a party or social function by yourself? Sat in your home with no television or music on....in silence, by yourself?

After my divorce 16 years ago I was alone for the first time in my life. Sure, I had a toddler son, but my ex and I had joint custody so there were days at a time that I was by myself. Alone. At the age of 30 this was both frightening and liberating. I then took a job that required travel and found myself learning to dine and entertain myself. Initially I was intimidated. Sitting in a restaurant, alone at a table, surrounded by couples or groups can feel both isolating, lonely and even embarrassing. After about one year of not only living alone (post-divorce) and traveling alone (for work), I started to feel more comfortable in my single activities and began coveting my alone time.

Of course I greatly enjoyed and loved spending time with my son during the time he was in my care, and did talk to him everyday while he was at his dad's, but when he was away, I relished the freedom in doing what I want when I want. Saturday afternoon movie matinees were a favorite - especially since I always got to pick the movie! I became very comfortable being the 'third-wheel' with other couples when invited to parties and social events. Being alone and learning to entertain myself - in a way, take care of myself, matured me. Being alone helped me acquire personality traits such as independence, self-reliability, self-confidence, and assertiveness. I learned to be more approachable and lose the fear of talking to strangers. I learned to be okay with myself.

Not to get too off track, the point of our lunch talk today was that yes, we both enjoy our alone time and also desire a work/life balance that provides alone time. The three of us (including our co-worker who didn't make it to lunch today) are dedicated employees who put much effort into our professions. But we also have spouses, children, friends and activities that go beyond our job - in addition to the time we devote and deserve for ourselves. To our co-worker we missed at lunch today - we missed you at our monthly lunch but glad you are not working on Saturday. Perhaps we'll all have a bit of alone time this weekend...with our family, friends, or ourselves.

I restore myself when I'm alone. - Marilyn Monroe

ENFJ

2010-02-06T20:02:00.002-06:00

About a month ago, my employer asked our department to take the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI) - a personality test of sorts. I guess the goal was how the marketing team (around 50 of us) could communicate and work together better individually and in teams, and perhaps, get to know a bit more than we already think we do. This week we met for a 3-hour session with a consultant to learn our MBTI - simply put, a four letter acronym, one of 16 choices, that describes us in the easiest of terms to others.

I am an ENFJ.

E=Extraversion (source of energy)

N=Intuition (taking in information)

F=Feeling (decision making)

J=Judging (lifestyle)

My hallmark? Responsiveness. Though the ENFJ assigned to me is not surprising (to me, or my friends and co-workers), of more interest is the rather comprehensive workbook we took home with us to dive down into even more detail those personality traits. Well defined in the workbook are the areas that I personally contribute to, such as:

soliciting everyone's opinion so that very voice is heard
providing warmth, respecting diversity, and being sensitive to people's needs
providing direction that is supportive, participative, and responsive
providing caring support for others in times of flux
being responsible and planful in order to assist others

Okay, I guess I agree with these "personality observations". Of more interest to me and in greater detail are the areas that "may irritate" others or which "may irritate" me. Mmmm...I need to read this.

Some of the traits listed that may irritate others include wanting everyone to get along, being too involved, helping too much, being overly zealous on issues, being overly idealistic, and my favorite "being too positive in general and in particular about people". Again, these are the personality traits so determined in me, that IRRITATE others. Really? Is it irritating to be helpful? involved? positive?

I realize, at my mid-life age, that my personality, including my personal ethics and morals, are pretty well set; perhaps only changed by a tumultuous life event that could so change my personality as to permanently change who I really am. I do not plan on having (hopefully) said life event. Ever.

As we sat in the room learning the four-letter acronym of our fellow co-workers, I listened intently for someone with the same four letters, and there is only one, my co-worker, C. A delightful, intelligent woman, who, I guess, is much like me.

I knew I liked her the moment I met her.

I may have a comrade to be helpful, involved, idealistic and zealously irritating to others. This makes me laugh. Is that irritating?

"Personality has the power to open many doors, but character must keep them open"

The Art of Painting

2010-01-26T20:53:00.000-06:00

A quick post tonight....my painting class started again last night. I couldn't get to the class quick enough! For a 'warm-up' I painted 5 small (3" x 3") paintings (see above and below). Having fun playing with pumice, toilet paper rolls (great for stenciling!), sides of cardboard, and my continued learning of mixing colors. On to bigger (and perhaps better??) next week.

l'anxiété

2010-01-23T23:14:00.003-06:00

I've spent a great part of my life being anxious; or rather having anxiety. Of course when I was young, I didn't know what anxiety was and couldn't put a label on what I was feeling. The unexplained stomachaches, headaches, nervous twitches, hives did not have a diagnosis. As a young child, I didn't understand stress, I just knew that I didn't feel good - a lot. My childhood wasn't always happy. Growing up with a severely alcoholic abusive absent father negatively affected our family and the way we lived. Now, many years later, terms such as 'codependency', 'neglect', 'verbal/emotional abuse', 'enabling', and 'addiction' are labels placed on my childhood and adulthood.

Off and on counseling, since the age of 12, has helped me to overcome (mostly) the loss of childhood I experienced, recover from the neglect and abuse, and understand addiction. Unfortunately, the anxiety that started as a young child has not gone away. I experience physical manifestations of anxiety in different forms at different times; never really knowing when my body will go into 'full anxiety'. Years ago, I started a new endeavor as a full-time consultant and broke into full body hives for a week - the physical pain associated with the hives was overwhelming. Its almost as if my body was speaking to me - or rather yelling at me - telling me to be more aware and "wake up!".

When my son was a baby (not even a year old), his dad and I were having a rough go of it financially so I picked up a second job on the weekends. I was already working full-time during the week. After 9 months of working seven days a week with no days off, I was very exhausted. One Sunday I went to work and my chest, stomach and left arm started to ache badly. Worried, I called the doctor who promptly told me to go to the emergency room. Upon arriving, I was briskly taken to the back for tests - since I showing symptoms of a heart attack. Fortunately, I was diagnosed with a duodenal ulcer, stayed in the hospital for 3 days, and told to promptly quit my weekend job. My body telling me to slow down.

Last March, I started having similar symptoms over a period of about 4 weeks. On a Saturday night, I found myself in the emergency room, again with symptoms of a heart attack. After many tests, a visit with a cardiologist, a stress test and various blood samples, it was deduced that I was having anxiety attacks. Again.

I've tried many non-prescription ways of handling my anxiety...meditation, prayer, yoga, vitamins, making sure I get enough rest, not over scheduling...some have worked, for awhile.

I think I'm fairly good at hiding my anxiety, as I wonder if many of my friends and family even know that I suffer from an "above normal level".

I read once that chronic anxiety and stress can actually leave an imprint in your physical and emotional self...a blueprint of sorts. A 'fight or flight' reaction.

Truthfully, I don't know if I'll ever be able to heal from anxiety. I feel my body has grown accustomed to it over so many years; starting when I was very young. When I was 4 years old, my parents left me alone with my 3-year old sister in the evenings while they worked at a factory. Though my mother left a handwritten note (which of course I couldn't read), we foraged through the refrigerator for food to feed ourselves, putting ourselves to bed when night fell on the small one-bedroom apartment the four of us lived in. I would lay in bed not wanting to fall asleep, listening to my sister cry. No bedtime stories for us. The worry, fear and loneliness I must have felt at that age somehow formed on imprint in my psyche. An imprint that I live with everyday.

The anxiety is unbearable. I only hope it lasts forever. ~ Oscar Wilde

The Anti-Aging Diet

2010-01-09T19:51:00.000-06:00

Ah January...the month of resolutions, many of which include losing weight, exercising, stop smoking, being nicer (or at least, more pleasant), getting at least 7 hours of sleep, spending more time with your spouse/partner, sending birthday cards (not the e-mail kind)...well, as you may know from my previous post (below), I don't make resolutions. Funny thing is, resolutions have been the topic of discussion with many of my friends the last couple of weeks. I'm sure by end of January, the discussion on resolutions will be replaced by...let's see, spring clothing trends, change in hair color, and when will the winter end.

This week I went out after work for a cocktail (for me = diet coke) with a new friend from work, T. As we were sitting across from one another in the dimly lit lounge of a restaurant, she asked how old I was. Never embarrassed or bothered by my age, I quickly answered, "47". "No way" T said, "I don't believe you". Well, at the age of 47 why oh why would I lie? T's eyes opened widely as she told me she needed proof, of which I quickly offered up my driver's license (birth year: 1962). I've never been too hung up on age - there are people who are 18 and act like they are 30; and people who are 30 who act like they are 18 (and this goes for their looks as well!). T is 31; she thought I was 37. LOVE the compliment.

Most people who try to guess my age usually place me in the late 30s. Pretty cool for a mother of a 20-year old and who would have been married 27 years this year to his father.

I thank genetics, decent living and my personal "anti-aging diet" for keeping me looking younger than my 47 years. I'm lucky to have two grandmothers who, with their luminous skin and minimal lines looked awesome as they aged (one of my grandmothers is passed; the other just turned 91 and looks fantastic!). My mother, though she died at the too young age of 52, always looked beautiful and to me, glamorous (a former Miss Shakopee (MN)!). Mom would step out of the house with a brush of mascara and a stroke of lipstick on her lips and look like a million bucks.

I don't smoke, drink minimal alcohol and askew the sun (though I was a "sun bunny" in my teens....which I have paid for with a history of skin cancer). I owe my skin tone, lack of visible wrinkles, full lips and cheeks to the "anti-aging diet". Anyone who knows me knows that for most of my life I've struggled with my weight - up and down, down and up...and at this point, I think if I do lose those pounds that I probably should, the fat would leave my face, the wrinkles and lines would slowly start to appear...and BAM!.....I will look 'my age'...47. The "anti-aging diet" (read: no dieting...don't lose weight...stay pleasantly plump) keeps my wrinkles and lines at bay...and to think I don't need to use $100 skin creams!

I will admit that a positive and happy outlook on life shared with loving friends and family and self-acceptance also help in keeping me look 'not my age' (or at least I think so). Maybe that is the key to the 'anti-aging diet' - self-acceptance. Now there's a resolution I can live with.

A New Year

2010-01-02T18:57:00.000-06:00

Yes, I know. It's 2010 - a new year, a new decade. A time when many think about resolutions, actually make them, only to break them at, let's see.....today (January 2nd). Now I don't mean to sound negative, sarcastic or condescending...very much not. But why is it that resolutions are made the first of every year? I say let's start a new trend...let's make resolutions on July 4th. What better way to make a list of things you want to change about yourself and have fireworks exploding upon finalization of 'the list' (or, your 'bucket list' if you are so inclined)?

I don't make resolutions anymore. I used to, but a week in to the new year would find myself going back to my 'old ways'. My resolutions were boring and pretty much the same year in and year out - exercise more (or at least start!), lose weight (a lifelong battle), floss my teeth more (this is the one resolution that is successful). I don't smoke, drink (to excess), gamble, cheat, steal...generally, I'm nice to family and friends. I like my job, my coworkers...so making a resolution every new year almost became, well, boring. It's interesting talking to friends and family this time of year to actually discuss what their resolutions are - or if they don't make them at all. We visited my cousin, J, on New Year's eve and he asked us "what were your highs and lows in '09?". Good question.

Though I am a very thankful person and realize I live a blessed life, I had not taken the time to think about 2009 and all the ups and downs of the past year. As I thought for a moment, I quickly realized that 2009 was made of many 'highs' and few 'lows'. All in all, probably one of the best years of my life. Actually I think I had one of the best decades. I sometimes contemplate my life in 'chunks of years' - the last couple years, the last 5 years, the last decade. The decade of the '10s' will bring many changes to my life and the lives of those closest....I will turn 50, my son will become 'legal', finish college (!!), start his career, perhaps fall in love (of course - this I am hoping will all come true for him)...some family and friends will pass, others will be born, some relationships may end but others may begin.

Perhaps I should make a resolution, not for 2010, but for today. A daily resolution. To be happy, to be healthy, to be kind, to be loving, to be a great mom, a loving partner, a good friend...to bring a smile to someone I just met, give a hug to someone for no reason, to be thankful, to live in joy. For I have today, January 2, 2010...and I'm very thankful.

The Birthday Bounty Experiment

2009-12-06T20:56:00.000-06:00

This Thursday, December 10, marks the anniversary of yet another birthday for me. I realize, as I get older, that birthdays don't hold the excitement they did when I was young. Oh how I looked forward with great joy every December. Not only did I look forward to Santa arriving with presents; but I also got birthday gifts. It was like winning the lottery twice. I waited all year for December - by birthday and Christmas merely two weeks apart. What fun, what excitement...plus snow!

After I reached 30 (0kay, 35), my birthday somewhat lost its glamour. Sure, I enjoy receiving cards and birthday greetings from family and friends; but I often catch myself lost in thought to actually how old I am when people ask. You see, I believe that age is just a number and your actual birth age is not connected to your mind, thoughts, how you look and act, what kind of music you listen to, car you drive, seniority at your job or how fast you can walk around the block. Most people, when asked, guess me around 10 years younger than my actual age. Maybe its because most of my friends, including my partner, are younger than me; or like me, are young in spirit.

Now when I contemplate my impending birthdays, if my age is not followed by a "0", as in 40, 50, 60...I don't give it much thought. What really does it mean to be 28? 36? 48? 53? Sure, society, or rather our egos, have set deadlines. When I was in my 20s, I thought it appropriate that my annual salary match my age. When I turned 30 I was making $30,000. Check. Done. Unfortunately, today's economy would put a $30,000 salary for a 30-year old in the lower middle class band. In my 20s I dreamt of owning a BMW. This, I thought, would be the penultimate measure of my career success. Today, in my mid-40s, I drive a 7-year old Toyota with over 124,000 miles on it; have never driven a BMW and don't plan on trading my vehicle anytime soon (and it won't be for a BMW). Growing up, and probably due to watching too much television, I thought that success in life meant going to college, getting a job, finding a husband, having a couple of kids, buying a nice house in the suburbs with a couple of vehicles in the driveway. The generational fairy tale of the baby boomers. My life? go to college for one year, get married, buy a small house, quit college with one semester left, have a baby, get a divorce, finish college, date the wrong guys, find the right guy, finish grad school, buy a townhouse. Mmm...never read this in any child storybook. I digress.

I'm sure you're reading this and wondering, what is the birthday bounty experiment?

I like getting free things or sale prices. Rarely do I purchase clothes, books or music unless they are on sale. I even negotiated the price of the furniture we bought new for our townhouse (much to the amazement of K. who never knew you could negotiate furniture - you do this for cars, right?). So, I sign up for emails, text alerts, Facebook groups, and twitter from retail stores that I like to visit. Companies are getting very net-savvy and social marketing is sweeping the country. Companies want to stay connected to you and love when you opt-in for their emails; oftentimes they ask for the month and date of your birthday as a way of enticing you to shop and buy more.

The emails and mailings for my 'birthday bounty' started arriving the first of December. Most of these 'gifts' are good for the month which is great for me. Not only will I partake of some of them (love to go to Caribou Coffee on my birthday for my free drink!), but I also use the incentives to purchase Christmas gifts for friends and family. So far, my birthday bounty consists of:

Free drinks at Dunn Brothers and Caribou Coffee
Free dessert at Buca di Peppo
Free hamburgers at Lions Tap and Ruby Tuesday
15% off at Anthropologie
$15 off at JCPenney
20% off Lane Bryant
Free Shimmer Lip Gloss trio at Sephora

Sure, I understand that by offering me a free drink at Caribou, the company hopes I buy my favorite cinnamon sugar donut as well; or the free lip gloss trio at Sephora will be partnered with the purchase of matching OPI nail polish; and who can eat a hamburger without french fries and a diet coke?

I won't partake of all the birthday offers I have received. And thankfully, these companies don't know my age. I don't need a BMW or a house with a picket fence, I get to go to Lions Tap and get a free hamburger. Now that's success.

Holiday Rituals

2009-11-30T20:32:00.000-06:00

I have many fond memories of holidays - Thanksgiving and Christmas especially. Halloween never really meant much to me. Sure, I'd go trick or treating in a homemade 'gypsy' costume made each year from leftover clothes I found in my mom's closet. Halloween ended abruptly for me when I was 11; not due to my age so much as to my height - I was already 5'7" and when adults opened the door I was told I was "too old" and should leave the candy for the young kids. I haven't worn a costume since 1973.

The remaining holidays - Valentine's, Easter, 4th of July, Labor Day - never held any significance in our family. No rituals surrounded these dates except for the ritual of laziness. Having a Monday, Friday or day during the week off was holiday enough - no need for extra celebration.

But Thanksgiving and Christmas held specific rituals and importance in our family. Both of these holidays were equally shared between my parent's families; down to the time of eating, raisins in the stuffing (only on my mom's side), prayers said, games played, naps taken.

I've always been fond of rituals, which is probably why I enjoyed attending Catholic Mass for so many years - until I realized the ritual of Mass and the ritual of Eucharist wasn't enough to sustain my participation. Holiday rituals are important and I believe a vital component of a child's upbringing. Rituals form memories and memories are one of building blocks of a healthy mental attitude. Betsy Taylor states “Rituals give kids a sense of security in a fast-moving, unpredictable world, as well as memories they will cherish a lifetime.”

The holiday rituals our family celebrated formed memories for me that I reflect on, especially during this time of the year. Though my childhood sometimes had more 'downs' then 'ups' it is the memory of the many family gatherings I cherish and remember the most.

My son recently turned 20 and we just celebrated Thanksgiving together - it was our 5th Thanksgiving together. My ex-husband and I divorced when our son was 3 and for the next 15 years the two of them celebrated turkey day with my ex's family. Since starting college in Minnesota two years ago, my son now joins us for Thanksgiving. Throughout his first 18 years, the three of us celebrated Christmas together and enjoyed the ritual of Christmas Eve church service, my son and I sitting next to each other in a pew singing along with the choir, which his dad still sings in. We then would go to my home for a relaxing Christmas Eve dinner while our son anxiously waited to open his presents. Oftentimes we drove around the neighborhood looking at all the beautiful and colorful holiday lights. These are our son's memories; our son's rituals. Though our son is a product of divorce, we came together as a family at Christmas (along with sporting events, school activities, choir concerts, doctor appointments...).

My son was here for Thanksgiving weekend but I won't see him until January. In a few weeks after finishing finals, he'll travel west 600 miles to his dad's home and spend the Christmas holiday. I'll miss him on Christmas; miss his excitement in opening gifts; in digging into homemade chex mix; in giving me a warm hug. But I know where he'll be on Christmas Eve...sitting in a church pew, singing carols while his father is in the choir on stage. After church, they'll go home and have something nice to eat and open gifts. Though the three of us may not be together this year, I know the holiday ritual we started 20 years ago still continues.

Thankfulness

2009-11-23T20:37:00.000-06:00

Why is it, around the time of Thanksgiving and the holidays, when we reflect on all we are thankful for? Whenever I check my Facebook account lately, every few status updates starts with "I am thankful for...". Now I am not implying that this is wrong, untimely or inappropriate.

Quite the contrary. I'm simply questioning why we, as participants in society, aren't thankful and show our thankfulness...our appreciation...our gratitude to those around us every day?

One of the personality qualities, or rather deficits, I deplore is rudeness. Rudeness for not saying 'thank you', even for the simplest of gifts or offerings that others give us. When I started kindergarten, my mother sent me off to school every day saying, "make sure you say please and thank you to your teacher and the lunch ladies". I always did, and the lunch ladies always smiled gently at me whenever I thanked them. I grew up in the generation where we revered those adults that taught us, served us, preached to us, guided us. I grew up in the generation where I learned to appreciate the small things people did for me, the small presents I received. For in my childhood, these were the things that meant the most. And they still are.

I sometimes forget to be grateful, to be thankful. It's not out of rudeness, but rather unawareness, not being present with the here and now. Not paying attention to those things another has done for me, or others.

I am present today; am present now; and I am thankful...and to all who I have not shown or communicated my gratitude and appreciation, thank you. Thank you.

Lipstick Whore

2009-11-15T21:34:00.000-06:00

Okay, I admit to being full-on girl. I like to wear make-up, jewelry, nice clothes, have my nails done, my hair colored and change purses (usually weekly). My biggest obsession? Make-up, specifically lipstick.

Can a girl really ever have too much make-up? Perhaps. My first foray into cosmetics was at the age of 11. My mother, finally, after much pleading, or perhaps exhaustion from constant nagging, allowed me to purchase eyeshadow and lip gloss. I was so excited. I took some hard earned babysitting money, went to the neighborhood drug store and quickly bought cream eyeshadow in a green that looked like forest moss and lip gloss resembling (and tasting) a bit like strawberry jelly. I was in heaven. When I put my finger in the small pots the first time I felt like I was a painter, nervously and carefully placing my index finger with the green goop on my eyelid, making sure to 'stay within the lines' and not make too much of a mess. Today, with an ever steady hand and many more steps in the process, I apply make-up with almost perfect precision and can put on a 'full face' in less than 5 minutes.

I love everything there is about cosmetics - the wide range of colors, especially for lips, eyes and nails (who knew GREEN would ever touch a fingernail?), the shimmer effects of purple eyeshadow, the new high-definition foundation (just purchased). Last count, I own approximately 50 tubes of lipstick/gloss. My brand favorites are from Chanel, OPI and MAC. The varying hues of red are my favorite though the color range is broad from the faintest nude (usually worn on the weekends when I wear the least make-up) to an almost black red, when I'm feeling a bit more dramatic. Sephora and Ulta are like candy stores to me, the Chanel and MAC counters at Macy's on Michigan Avenue in Chicago have me on their mailing list, and I receive weekly emails from Estee Lauder. My bathroom drawers and linen closet are filled with a wide range of brands and products...girlfriends who visit me know exactly where to go for their 'touch-up' and help themselves to my own personal make-up counter. And it is well organized with lipsticks in their own holders organized by brand, eye shadows and liners in a plastic file drawer, perfumes occupy two plastic lazy susans and cleansing products in one drawer.

I don't even want to think of the amount of money I have spent on cosmetics over the past 30+ years - probably enough to purchase a very nice new automobile - not a Mercedes, but perhaps a Ford Focus. Oh well, the money could have gone to far worse habits....like smoking or gambling.

My mother never wore much make-up, she didn't need to. Mom had a beautiful complexion, and great features...but she always wore lipstick. I have aptly followed suit and never leave home without lipstick on, often reapplying over the length of the day.

I have to admit I'm a bit envious of women who wear little, if any, make-up and look fresh and fabulous. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to wear foundation to cover my acne scars and sun damage (too much of a sun bunny in my teens), or put mascara on to make me look a bit more awake. But there is one thing I won't give up...that's right, lipstick.

Trying to Find the News

2009-11-10T21:45:00.000-06:00

My first entree into marketing and advertising was working for the Rapid City Journal (RCJ) (http://www.rapidcityjournal.com) in Rapid City, South Dakota as an advertising representative. One of the 'perks' was daily delivery, free of charge, of the newspaper. I have always been an ardent reader and took time each day to read the paper. Though the RCJ is not the size of a major city newspaper, it does a fairly decent job of covering national and local news interspersed with major world news. In addition to reading the daily paper, I also watched the nightly news, priding myself on having a basic knowledge of world and political affairs, who won the Monday night football game, and what the weather was going to be like on the weekend.

Fast forward 20 years and I am news-challenged. Yes, I know we have military in Iraq and Afghanistan; the MN Vikings have a 7-1 record; the NY Yankees won the World Series (and I'm not even a bonafide sports fan!); Hillary Clinton is the Secretary of State; and it's going to be in the 50s this week weather-wise. What have I missed? A lot it seems. I missed the great tragedy at Ft. Hood, TX last week of the mindless massacre of 13 innocent people (plus injured) until my son told me this past weekend. I have not kept up with the healthcare debate now moving to the Senate nor do I understand the potential current and future impact on my family's healthcare coverage. I forgot that tomorrow is Veteran's Day. I didn't know we had a city election last week or worse yet, who was running and what referendums were up for a vote. Even writing this makes me anxietous. Perhaps too much news causes me too much stress.

Most people who know me may be surprised to find that I am not keeping up with current events and instead am living in a world occupied by information via such random social media as twitter, facebook, hotmail, outlook, google and bing. Thank gosh I receive, via email, headlines each day from bing news (http://www.bing.com/) though the headlines consist of only 5 to 6 random national news stories. I do subscribe to the Sunday edition of the Minneapolis Star Tribune, and though I feel it lacks hard hitting editorial news (they recently announced the cutting of 100 staff members; 30 in the newsroom), at least I know what the Target promotions are for the week and can get my weekly dose of $0.50 off Pringle and Dove chocolate coupons.

I seem much calmer lately...thank God for Pringles and dark chocolate.

Transitions

2009-11-04T22:26:00.000-06:00

For the past 9 years I have been going to school and working full-time. After the first year of working and going to school I got into a rhythm, sometimes with much effort, where my life was dictated, not by my choices, but rather by the due dates of papers, exams, work responsibilities along with mom responsibilities. Sometimes I felt I had no 'me' time; no time to do those things I wanted to do like write more, read more 'fun' books (not textbooks), take an art class, really get into a television series, spend more time with family and friends.

During the last year of graduate school my thoughts often strayed to the transition from full-time work and school to just full-time work. What would I do with the 'extra' time? What were my weekends going to be like since I wouldn't be speed reading hundreds of pages, writing a 2o-page paper or interning at an academic library? My mind traveled through an encyclopedia of choices, which at times felt very foreign to me. All of a sudden, in August of this year, I would be done with graduate school. Done with school. Forever. I think. Really? Instead of feeling elated and relieved, feelings of sadness and grief and even a bit of anxiety started creeping into my psyche.

Some people are ecstatic when they finish their academic career - be it high school, trade school or college. Me...I love school. I love to learn, to be educated, and all things connected - yes, that even means researching and writing papers, reading textbooks that at times make you want to take a long nap, and preparing for exams that cause you to lose sleep wondering if you passed. I've always liked school. So am I REALLY done with school? Perhaps in the 'formal' sense, yes. I've had to finance every credit, book, and pencil of my college education and unfortunately simply cannot afford to pursue a PhD. Maybe one day I can start again, but I'm on a break and it may be a permanent break from college.

While contemplating what I would do after graduating this summer, my thoughts went to creative pursuits. I've always wanted to write more. After taking a couple of writing workshops on memoir I desire to take a deep dive into this writing genre but feel I wasn't ready in the fall after completing a heavy year of coursework writing. Woodworking? No - I have a fear of power tools. Beer making? Interesting, but I'm not a big beer drinker. Salsa Dancing? Though I admit I need to exercise, stumbling over my feet and flying on the floor doesn't sound very fun - especially in front of a group of people. Painting? Mmmmm. My aunt S. is an oil painter and does beautiful work. Maybe genetically some talent would pass down to me. I registered at the Hopkins Community Center for 'Acrylic Painting' in September. Cost: $80. Experience needed: None. Supplies: small list; low cost. Done.

Little did I know that a 2-1/2 hour weekly class (with a net cost of $10/week) is worth 4 sessions with a therapist (at $120/hr). Not only have I learned painting and color techniques (who knew you could make a myriad of colors with only 4 tubes of paint?), but I've also learned to let myself go artistically, let myself make mistakes, let my feelings and emotions flow on canvas, let myself relax. With one week left, I am already missing my Monday evening painting class. Lucky for me, registration for winter quarter starts soon.

This week I finished my first painting - an impressionistic landscape titled "Prairie Horizon". My painting instructor wants me to put the painting in the Potpourri show starting in December. I think I will. I started my second painting and am already thinking of future ideas. I have learned much during the 8-week class and tonight purchased a couple of books on painting techniques and tricks. I can't wait to read them.

I may be done with college; but I am never done learning.

Finding the Holy

2009-10-26T23:56:00.000-05:00

I woke up early this morning - early for Seattle; mid-morning for home in Minneapolis. A wet, gray, cloudy Seattle morning. Probably not unlike a lot of mornings here. I like rain. For me, rain is a cleansing of sorts - I feel baptized in a sense. Rain cleans the air, cleans the street, clears the clouds that occupy the sky sometimes too often occupy my mind. After quickly dressing, I left the warm confines of our room and headed downstairs to a small restaurant and slid into a booth; ordered a glorious pot of hot tea and a warm scone and read the daily paper. And I actually READ the paper; not skimmed the headlines which is my usual modus operandi having little time to absorb all the information placed on the pages. A headline quickly caught my eyes - "'Holy' moments surround us" by Dean Nelson (USA TODAY).

My spiritual life, is, to say the least, currently in transition. Or rather in contemplation. I am an oblate of St. Martin Monastery (www.blackhillsbenedictine.com/oblates.php). An oblate is one who forms a commitment to Benedictine spirituality that is given unconditionally from the heart, that needs to be cultivated in "good and bad" days. I admit to being much more diligent in my role (or responsibility) as an oblate years back, but since moving to Minnesota have struggled.

There are seven ancient sacraments that organized Christianity has recognized for thousands of years: Baptism, Holy Orders, Confession, Confirmation, Marriage, Extreme Unction, and Eucharist. Growing up Catholic, I have experienced 5 of the 7. The point of Nelson's article is that one doesn't have to experience the sacraments in a church or in front of a priest (or clergy); but rather in those moments when we share ourselves with others. Nelson asks "haven't we all been part of conversations where they somehow take on a deeper dimension, even though it's just two people talking?".

For 5 years I went to a spiritual director (a Benedictine nun) at St. Martin Monastery. A loving, gracious, knowledgable nun who reminds me of my paternal grandmother; Sr. M awoke in me the spiritual, the holy. Before I started spiritual direction I was an empty, lonely vessel. It is often said that those going through spiritual direction should be prepared for your life to take a 360 degree turn. Mine did; radically. My life did a complete turnaround. Relationships changed, some died, some grew. I changed.

I no longer attend church or go to any religious celebrations. I do pray everyday - and share my feelings and thoughts with those people closest in my life. These are my holy moments. I relish in the time I spend with family and friends sharing my feelings, listening to theirs. It never occurred to me that these are holy moments. Perhaps my spiritual life is in transition but is moving towards what it was always meant to be - in the holy of now.

Vacation

2009-10-23T23:33:00.000-05:00

It's almost midnight on Friday evening. "Officially" the start of a weeklong vacation. Merriam-Webster (http://www.merriam-webster.com) defines a vacation as:

a time of respite from something
a period of exemption from work granted to an employee
a period spent away from home or business in travel or recreation

Check, check, check. I'm doing all three, though I have to admit that the 2nd bullet point sounds a bit 'clinical'. Am I actually granted an exemption from work? Gee, and I thought paid time off was earned; not granted.

I don't remember the last time I took a week's vacation and actually went somewhere I've never been. We're headed west to Seattle, WA. The city of Seattle has always been on my travel list (in my mind; never written down) and all I've heard are great things. Albeit the city is wrapped in rain a lot and it is supposed to rain while we're there; I don't really care. I'm not traveling for the weather; I'm going on a vacation. And it probably doesn't matter where we're going, just that we are.

The biggest thing I fear about vacation is just when I'm starting to relax, unwind, remove work stress from my mind, it will be Monday, November 2 - the day I go back to work. Perhaps the Europeans have it right - I understand they get much more vacation than we do in the U.S. My previous employer gave us a whole two weeks a year - for vacation AND sick time AND personal time. Gee, how nice. Now I get 4 weeks, of which I'm thankful.

Some people plan their vacations to the hour - enjoying being a tourist and visiting every attraction and souvenir shop. Not us. We have no plans - we're going to wing it. Of course there are things we like to do on vacation - visit local restaurants, museums, people watch - but's that's the fun of vacation - take the time off - take a respite - but don't plan much. We're not only giving our bodies a vacation; but we're also giving our minds a vacation.

We're granting ourselves a respite...and that's what's really important.

Three Precious Women

2009-10-20T21:03:00.000-05:00

June 16, 1993. I'm not good at remembering dates - don't ask me when World War I started or ended; what years Lincoln was President; or when I had my first "boy" date. But I will always remember June 16, 1993, the day my mother died. She had just turned 52 a month before and was too young, way too young, to die. I was 30. A numb, angry, resentful, sad 30-year old soon-to-be-divorced, mother of a 3-year old, scared daughter. My mother was a gorgeous (former "Miss Shakopee" (MN)), caring, loving, generous woman who cared deeply for her family; sometimes far too deeply. Brain cancer struck her 18 months before she died. Right on time. After the initial diagnosis and surgery, all I remember the surgeon saying is that mom had 12-18 months. He offered no explanation, no condolences. We had mom for 18 months - thru two brain surgeries, partial paralysis and the last weeks of her life in hospice, mom fought the cancer as bravely and strongly as she could.

I miss my mom...sometimes it still hurts, like she died yesterday. The ache never quite goes away. I miss my mom when I look into my son's eyes; sad that he never really knew his grandma.

January 4, 2008. I remember this date as well. The date my dear grandmother V. passed away. She lived 92 long, wonderful years. Grandma lit up a room when she came in - her ruby red lips always smiling, her blue eyes sparkling. I miss her hugs. I miss the smell of her perfume. I miss her asking how everything is going - and her really wanting to know.

October 20, 2009. Today. A day like most others. I'm thinking of my grandma L. A spry and independent soon-to-be 91-year old. We went to an apple farm on Sunday and decorated her house with Halloween decorations. At 91, grandma can still get on her hands and knees to grab the Halloween decorations from the bottom of the linen closet. I helped but didn't get up as fast as she could. At 91 grandma is more flexible than me...I better make a New Year's resolution this year to start yoga again.

My mother and two grandmothers are the women who have surrounded and loved me during my life. They've taught me to love learning, finish school, take risks, take care of my baby son, take care of myself. I've grown into the independent, self-reliant woman I am today from the life lessons three precious women have taught me. I may not be good at remembering dates but I will always have the memories of a life consumed by the love of three very special women. I am a mother yet I will always remain a daughter and granddaughter.

Photos from Renee

2009-10-18T21:54:00.001-05:00

Click here to view these pictures larger

Before it Breaks

2009-10-15T20:43:00.000-05:00

Brandi Carlile (http://www.brandicarlile.com/) is one of my favorite singer songwriters. I've seen her perform live 6 times in the past three years. Brandi hails from the Seattle, WA area but her biggest market for record sales and concert goers is Minneapolis. The first time I saw Brandi Carlile was at a not sold-out show at the Varsity Theater in Dinkeytown; the last time 3 weeks ago at one of the 2-night sold-out (in 2 hours) concerts at the O'Shaughnessy Auditorium in St. Paul. How far she has come in 3 years; and all at the young age of 26.

Her new CD, Give Up The Ghost, has a beautiful song title "Before it Breaks". Eloquently written and beautifully sung, the languid song and emotional lyrics are about a relationship in trouble..."say it's over, say I'm dreamin', say I'm better than you left me, say you're sorry I can take it, say you love me, say you don't, I can make my own mistakes...let it bend before it breaks".

The lyrics remind me of an essay I recently read about a marriage in trouble...after 20 years of marriage the husband wanted 'out'. There was no affair, no money problems, no job problems...the husband fell out of love and wanted out. His wife didn't give. Instead she told him to take his time and figure it out. Just figure it out. She wasn't going to leave him or their marriage. After 6 months their marriage healed; he healed. His wife did bend so their marriage didn't break.

Perhaps there is a lesson in waiting things out; not giving up. Fighting for what we believe. Fighting for believing in ourselves; in others; in our relationships. Maybe we bend too much but maybe not enough. Breaking something is permanent; bending allows for a return to what was or what can be. I'm going to let it bend before it breaks.

Where is the Time?

2009-10-07T20:20:00.000-05:00

Anyone that knows me knows that I've had a few jobs in my lifetime so far. No excuses, no specific reasons...I changed jobs for a variety of reasons: less money, but wanted the work experience; change of scenery; change of location; better opportunity to be mentored; better opportunity to learn; better opportunity to not be bored.

There were quite a few jobs where I would stare at the bottom right-hand corner of my desktop computer and watch the minutes go by...3:32 PM, 4:17 PM; 4:53 PM...could't wait until 5:00 PM and I was outta there. Mostly due to boredom. Well, not anymore. Now I hardly have time to be aware of the time; sometimes I forget which day of the week it is. I'm concentrating now and thinking that's it's Wednesday already..."hump day" as it is fondly called. I guess my week is 'downhill' from here on out; not really since Friday's have always been my favorite day of the week.

Which brings me to the discussion of TIME in general. Asked how someone is and I commonly hear "I'm busy". What does 'busy' mean? Busy with work, with a project, with your kids, hobbies, cleaning your house? Seems we are ALL busy. I'd prefer to not be so busy. To find the balance of time is a challenge. Work can easily take 50% of our day - from the time we get up out of bed, shower, travel to work, enjoy the work day and travel home. An easy 6am to 6pm kind of day. Add in an average of 8 hours of sleep and you are given a 'net' of 4 hours per day for personal activities which many times involve cooking and cleaning, driving kids, and writing blogs! (if you're lucky).

It is now 8:31PM on my computer clock...counting down the time until bedtime and all the things I still want to do tonight but know won't get done. I need more time. Perhaps an 8-day week; or 4-day work week....I think I'll spend some time thinking about this.

Be well....Renee

First Blog - Autumn is here!

2009-10-06T20:56:00.000-05:00

Greetings and welcome to my first blog!! This has been on my "to do" list for quite some time and I'm now happy to be able to start writing. I don't know where 2009 has gone but I can't believe it's October. Summer was a whirl...graduate exams, a job promotion and moving. And it was the l.o.n.g.e.s.t. move every...took 4 weeks to unpack - couldn't believe it! But we're settled and really enjoying our new home. I graduated in August with a MS in Library & Information Science from the University of North Texas specializing in information science - areas of information architecture, data organization and management.

I'm most excited this fall and thankful for many reasons. Cooper started his sophomore year at Minnesota State University, I'm taking a painting class and starting to knit again, we're settled in our new home, my job is going well and I have a great group of friends. I hope to add interesting tidbits, information and general 'catch-up' to this blog. Stay tuned.