Tag Archives: Books

What I Learned from My Mom

No gift to your mother can ever equal her gift to you – life. ~Anonymous

In many ways, I am my father’s daughter. Stubborn, strong, creative, sensitive, intelligent, introverted, pensive, easily irritated and hurt, critical, and funny, (what some might call a “smart ass”). I offer you these two pictures as some measure of proof.

Both of us are lucky enough to have my mom, to love us, to take care of us, and to forgive us when we need it.

I have been thinking about those without a mother, whether their mother has died or is simply absent or ineffective, and about what a sad thing that is, to have to become your own mother. For my entire life, I’ve had a mother who loves me, who wanted me, who took care of me and still does, when I let her. She has been and is a constant, loving presence in my life. I am so lucky.

What I’ve learned from my mom:

  1. Kindness. This is my mom’s most fundamental quality. She is kind to everyone she meets, even the ones that don’t necessarily deserve it. I learned from her that you lose nothing by being kind, gentle, friendly, nice, and more importantly, that by doing so you might ease someone else’s suffering.
  2. Generosity. My mom is giving and compassionate, to every one, especially those who need it most or have the least. She taught me the importance of service, charity, helping, pitching in, sharing the load, and that “many hands make light work.”
  3. Love of books, music, and film. My mom read to me, encouraged me to read, showed me the wonder of stories and books, gifted me that constant and abiding joy, so central to my life. There was always music in our house, and singing, another pleasure that infuses my life, so much so it feels as essential as eating or breathing or sleep. Some of my favorite memories are of snuggling up on the couch and watching movies like “Funny Girl” together. Even now, one of our favorite things to do together is to rent three or four movies and spend the whole day watching.
  4. How to make a home. She taught me to sew, to mend, to garden, to cook, to bake, to clean, to do laundry, to make a bed, to mow a lawn, to throw a party. She showed me the value of hard work and handmade, the ways to make peace. She taught me to take care of myself, to be independent, but also to nurture others, to create a home filled with love and comfort.

    Mom with my cousin Brian, who was asking her “these weeds?”

  5. Joy and Gratitude. These are so closely linked, I don’t know how to write about them separately. For my mom, the moment there is joy, the gratitude for whatever conditions enabled that joy will immediately follow. “I’m so happy” and “I’m so thankful” are almost the same thought. My mom shares her joy, is funny, and not in the mean, snide way I can sometimes be funny, but in the sweetest, silliest way. She makes me laugh, but also reminds me to notice how beautiful the world around us is, how lucky we are. She’ll say, “oh look!” and point out something I would have walked right past. In the worst of moments, she puts her heart and effort into cheering up, raising spirits, hoping for and looking towards that better day she is certain will come.
  6. Humility. My mom has a modest view of her own importance, her own worth. She won’t take full credit for the work she does, the impact she makes, but would rather share the wealth. She doesn’t do to be known or praised, but rather because the doing needs done, and she has love to give.
  7. Hard work. My mom is not a big woman, but I have seen her do backbreaking, hard labor. She grew up on a farm, the second oldest of 12 children, and she knows how to work, and never shies away from it. She rolls up her sleeves and gets to it. I dare you to invite her to dinner and try to keep her from helping to clean up, from doing the dishes–better men than you have tried and failed.
  8. Patience. She’s not going to let you get to her. She has the capacity to accept, to tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset, to remain cool, calm, steady–she’ll simply try another approach, another way, even if that means ignoring or denying the trouble altogether. She hardly ever gets irritated, (it happens, but it’s rare), flustered maybe, but she’s almost never angry.

    my brother Chris, me, and Mom at Disneyland

  9. Faith. We no longer share the exact same faith or set of practices, but my mom taught me the value of trusting, believing in something sacred. She taught me that there is love, that we are loved, and that we can be love, that love is worth practicing, devoutly. Also, that it doesn’t matter who or what we pray to, there is power in prayer.
  10. Not to worry.This is the only thing on this list where she taught me something by doing it in a way I don’t want to model, by being a bad example. She worries too much, can’t seem to help herself, especially when it comes to her family. If something hurts us, is hard for us, it hurts her too, and when she can’t directly fix it or make it better, she worries. It makes me sad to see it, how sad and upset she makes herself, and helps remind me that worrying doesn’t help.

    Mom with her first granddaughter, baby Jessamy

  11. Family and friends. This is what is most important to my mom, always has been. If she is your friend, you are so lucky. If she’s your mom, well…even better.
  12. Love + forgiveness + hard work = marriage.My parents have been married for 45+ years. What they’ve taught me is that sometimes it’s hard, you fight, drive each other crazy, but sometimes it’s really good, you laugh until your face and stomach hurt, you help each other make it through the tough stuff, and through all of it you love each other, are a family, and all the other stuff, you find a way to forgive. It’s no mystery why I got out of a bad first marriage and have such a successful second one–I know what I want and how to make it work (so far, knock on wood, fingers crossed).

    my 8th grade graduation

  13. Education. My mom valued our education, and did what she could to help us with it. She went on almost every field trip, volunteered in our classrooms and at school events, and was even the chairman of our school board for awhile. When I was 13, she started a career as an office manager at a middle school. All the kids and staff and parents loved her. Even after she retired, she volunteered at my old grade school for a few years, helping kids with their reading. She taught me that the path to everything I wanted, to success and being able to take care of myself, was through my education. She believed in school as a safe place for all kids but especially the ones who didn’t have that at home, a way kids could gain confidence and power. She knew an education would enable them to help themselves and to then maybe, hopefully go on to help others, and she did what she could to assist them.
  14. The joy of walking, of talking. I have a lot of pictures of my mom on the phone, partly because she’d never let my dad take her picture otherwise, but also because she actually spent time talking to people, (she still writes letters too). And she loves a good walk, first thing in the morning, or before or after dinner. I have walked many miles next to her, talking about nothing and everything, and hope to walk many more.
  15. How to be a good mom. More than likely, at this point I won’t literally be anyone’s mom, other than my dogs, but if I were to be, I know I’d be awesome at it, because I had such a good role model.

Oddly enough, this post has been kind of hard to write. You’d think that it would make me happy, that I’d feel nothing but good doing it. But to think in depth about all the things I love so much about my mom makes me profoundly sad. We live 1200 miles away from each other, and only get to spend physical time together once a year, and I miss her.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love and miss you, and I’ll see you soon!

A few of my favorite things

our wedding day, October 9, 1993–we were so young, and in love, now we are older, but still in love

Eric and I often say to each other “you’re my favorite.” He and my two dogs are constant in my life, my companions, my family, and whether I was making a list of “things I’d save first if there was a fire” or “things I’d want with me if I were stranded on a desert island” or “things I’m grateful for” or “my favorite things,” the three of them would be at the top of every list.

Yesterday and today, I have been home with the crud, being kind to myself, practicing gentleness, taking it easy, and getting some rest. As I’ve been doing so, I’ve been thankful for paid sick days, for the kindness of other beings, for the time and space to rest.

As I’ve spent so much time inside these past two days (with short breaks wrapped in a blanket in a chair in the backyard to get some fresh air), I’ve also been noticing the preciousness of my environment, and wanted to share with you some of my favorite things.

Mala Bracelets and Ibex Shak Merino Wool Jacket

A mala bracelet is made from Buddhist prayer beads, used when chanting mantras similarly to a Catholic Rosary, and is intended to be a more portable version of a full mala, which is 108 beads. The teak mala bracelet I have is inscribed, each bead with the same wish, something that translates roughly to “may all your dreams come true,” or “may your intentions manifest.” I’ve had it for more than ten years, and the wood smells of the patchouli oil that both Eric and I wear. I had two of them to begin with, but gave one to a dear friend. When I saw her again last year, after a few years of not, she was still wearing it.

The crystal and amethyst mala is newer. I just bough it at the Shambhala Mountain Book and Gift Shop when I was there for the Fearless Creativity Writing and Meditation Retreat with Susan Piver. I’d been wanting another one, have been loving how Susannah Conway layers her bracelets, and have often admired the crystal one Susan Piver wears sometimes. In my practice tradition, and in other forms of Buddhist practice, crystal is a symbol of awakened mind, of enlightenment. When I was picking which one I wanted, I was drawn to this one because of the amethyst. My favorite color is deep purple, but I also found out later that the amethyst crystal is meant to help with addiction, to instill a sober mind, to ease insomnia, to guard against guilty and fearful feelings, worn as a protection against self-deception, symbolizes spiritual wisdom and openness, can be used to attract love and happiness, to aid in meditation, is often worn by healers, and has a calming, cleansing, and protective energy. These are all good things.

And my wool jacket. I have worn the Ibex Shak Fullzip Classic for many years now, as has Eric. They are simply one of the most versatile, well-made items of clothing I have ever encountered. They are thin and work well in warmer temperatures, but are also warm enough to wear alone when it’s cooler, and work great as a layer when it gets really cold. I can wear one with a nicer outfit or to walk the dogs. They really are beautiful, and worth the higher price. This one came to me instigated by a loss. I had a black one, fairly new, to replace the one I’d worn out, and while in Boulder, I dropped it while walking the two blocks from a restaurant to the Shambhala Center. Even though I realized it right away and went back, it was gone. When I got online to replace it, it was too late in the season, and there were no more black, so I got this purple one. I normally would have never bought another, brighter color, would have stuck with black, but I love this one, so that story has a happy ending.

Quilt, Khata, and Lotus “Thangka”

It is traditional to have a Thangka over your meditation shrine. Usually, they are painted or embroidered, and are a representation of Buddha, or some other Buddhist deity, scene, or mandala. “Thangkas are intended to serve as a record of, and guide for contemplative experience,” (Buddhanet). As I mentioned in my post about my tattoos, a lotus flower is that representation for me. Eric bought me this one a few years ago (notice the deep purple color). I love how the bloom that is still a bud reaches towards the sky.

The quilt behind it is what served as my Thangka before I had the other. It was made by my aunt, my godmother, who is a fabric artist and quilter. Some day I will write a post, give you a tour through the amazing collection of her work that covers the walls of my house, and both Eric and I’s offices. Her work is truly amazing, and she has gifted me with a lot of it over the years, because she knows how much I love and appreciate it. I have also bought my own pieces from her shows, and my mom has also given me many over the years.

And finally, the Khata that is draped over my Thangka, is a special object, so precious to me. A Khata is a traditional Tibetan scarf, used as an offering of gratitude and good luck, a show of appreciation and love on the part of the giver. It’s often used as a way of decorating an object of practice or great value (such as draping it over the picture of a spiritual teacher), or offered by a student when they receive a teaching or practice, or given to someone who is about to depart on a journey. At the retreat with Susan Piver, on our last day, I gave her this scarf along with letters of love and gratitude, along with my adoration and appreciation. As might happen, the teacher can offer it back to the student, and Susan did just that. This act was so precious to me, I am crying about it again as I tell you. I can’t think about that moment without my heart going soft and tears starting. I know that ultimately I have saved myself, but there are some people whose support was critical, whose wisdom and kindness made all the difference, who I will never be able to properly thank, and Susan Piver is one of those people.

My writing desk

This is where you will find me almost every morning around 4:45 am, after I’ve fed the dogs and made a half cup of coffee. Even if it has to be later than that, I still make it to this spot, every day, and I write at least 3-5 pages in my journal. This is one of my favorite spots, and because of that, there is a collection of my favorite, most important things nearby:

  • a heart-shaped candy box that I covered with shells and rocks I found on the beach
  • Obi‘s last collar with his tags
  • Two different urns with some of Obi’s ashes, the original one they were packaged in, and the other that is blue porcelain and also contains some of his fur and a tag with his Oregon address
  • My HappyLight
  • a Lilac
  • a coaster I use for my coffee that has a purple lotus on it, given to me by a good friend
  • Thousand Shades of Gray mascots, tiny owls from DouDou Birds, Bot and Millie
  • My collection of Full Moon Dreamboards
  • “Dreamer” owl bag from one of my favorite companies, Papyrus
  • a small white porcelain Guanyin that I found at a flea market in Waldport, Oregon for $1
  • a pawprint of Obi’s foot
  • a picture I framed (I worked as a picture framer many years ago) for my Grandma, that I got back when she passed, that says “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
  • Various rocks and love notes from Eric
  • And of course, my current journal and my favorite pen, the Clarius by Pentel

Words

I’ve written before, many times, about my love for books, for reading and writing. Since I’ve been sick, I don’t have the energy for much (in fact, this post has been written in fits and starts over the course of two full days, with many nap breaks in between), but Eric had brought home Cheryl Strayed’s new book Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Coast Trail from the library. He got it for himself to read, but I’ve kidnapped it. I love that the copy I am reading has the “here & now” sticker on it. At our library, that means it’s a special new book and you can only keep it for seven days, but for me, it means something else–that all there is for me to do right now is to sink into this story, this book that is not, as some mistakenly think, a narrative about a journey through a physical place you could find on a map, but is rather about an internal trip, a woman travelling through her own memory and in to the very center of her heart.

And then last night, my copy of Brave Intuitive Painting: let go. be bold. unfold. by Flora Bowley came in the mail. I first saw her work on Andrea Scher’s Superhero Journal, because Andrea was lucky enough recently to do a painting retreat with Flora in Mexico. This book and Flora’s work and the world of open-hearted, brave color what she invites the reader into is so fantastic. I cannot wait to feel better, get out some paint and get messy!