Welcoming Reeve

I’ve added another member to my tribe.

I’m reading No More Words by Reeve Lindbergh. Reeve is the daughter of famed aviators Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh. In this book, Reeve reflects on life with her mother after a series of strokes left her mother confused and, but for a few words, unable to speak.

My bookmark is currently parked on page 34. I may need to put extra change in the meter because what I’m reading in chapter two is not only cause for my own reflection, it’s also prompted me to spill some words myself. Reeve talks about all the maternal responsibilities and concerns whirling–and, indeed, multiplying– around in her head. This is where I felt that kinship of all moms everywhere who seek to properly mother their children.

But Reeve takes her introspection a step further. Higher. She imagines the universe and her microscopic position in it. Yes, her role is important, vital even, but her position in the vast expanse (as for each of us), is infinitessimally small. Her thoughts take on a new trajectory of science- (and science fiction) related associations. Reeve’s interior space exploration caused me to make an association of my own.

Last night I watched the movie adaptation of Bill Bryson’s book, A Walk in the Woods. Attempting to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail, Bryson (played by Robert Redford) and Steve Katz (Nick Nolte in the movie), his out-of-shape trail companion, find themselves stranded on a cliff. That night, with no ambient light or trees or marks of civilization to impede their view, they gaze into the expanse of the night sky and see a million stars. They observe how big the universe is and how small they are in it. Although at this point in my life, that idea is an old chestnut, it did give me pause as I saw it through a new lens.

Instead of viewing my life as insignificant in the infinite span of everything and every time that ever was, considering the vastness of space and eternity dwarfed my worldly corporeal concerns.It didn’t make me feel so small as it instead shrunk my problems. If there are that many galaxies out there and that many things going on even just in this world, why am I getting so worried about all this stuff that keeps me up all night? Certainly my tax bill, my job security, the safety of my children (let alone dentist appointments, shoe shopping, and menu planning) aren’t even blips on the cosmic EKG. When I added to that my faith in the God of the universe, Who is sovereign over all and Whose love for me knows no limit, I found great comfort. I could nestle my pepper-speck-sized self into the map of eternity and breathe deeply. Maybe even close my eyes for a change.

So when Reeve went there with her thought thread, when she went from How big are my concerns! to How small I am in space!, I added her to the list of folks who inspire me, whose words resonate. We are like-minded, and I kinda love that. Imagine. . . finding a kindred spirit in the Milky Way.

This is why it takes me so long to finish reading a book. For more on the topic of slow reading, check out my post on the Little Town Writers Guild site here.

There’s No Substitute for Joy in Your Workplace

Can we be happy where we are? Right now?

Making lists reminds me to practice gratitude.

I’m excited to share this article I had published recently in Next Avenue about 5 (of the many) reasons I love my job as a substitute teacher.

New Month, New Book!

I recently had the pleasure of contributing to a new devotional compiled by Heather Hart. Today is lauch day for When Life Gives you Lemons: Make Lemonade with Jesus available here: https://a.co/d/gdmmgx1 on Amazon. Check it out!

Diana shares what it’s like to fulfill a lifelong dream

Farming After Fifty

New Year, Next Avenue!

It is a privilege to have this story about waiting for my cataract surgery published in Next Avenue magazine. Challenges transform us.

Be somebody’s good thing

I’m not gonna lie.

I make amazing chocolate truffles.

Several years ago, I got the recipe off of a television program, and I’ve been making them ever since. Now it’s a tradition that I make them every Christmas. I bring a batch to work and gift all my co-workers with a single truffle. You may think this sounds stingy of me, but considering I work with about thirty people, most of them daily proclaiming they aspire to eat healthier, and these treats are quite rich, well, it’s not really that selfish. Plus, now that I’ve been doing it for a while, they know how delectable they are and (if they can hold off), they know to savor them slowly on their coffee breaks. Also, I leave a copy of the recipe out with the basket of tasty morsels, so if they choose, they themselves can make as many as they’d like. This year, in addition to bringing some to work, and distributing some to family, I left several bags in a basket on our kitchen counter. If anyone in our family felt led to share some during the holiday season, they would be there for the taking.

On his way out to breakfast with some friends one day, my husband snatched a couple bags. The following week, one of those friends sent him a text: Tell your wife these truffles are incredible!! My wife and I are cutting them in half and limiting ourselves to only one a day. Of course, this compliment made me feel very good about myself. Of course, it made me want to send them more truffles (if I had had any to send!). But mostly, it made me think about something everyone can do that doesn’t necessarily involve pouring a pound of 60% cocoa chocolate chips into a pot of butter and cream.

We can be somebody else’s good thing.

I think about my husband’s friend bringing these half dozen chocolates home in a cellophane bag to his wife. He tells her where they came from. He reaches into the bag, bites off half of the first one, and his eyes light up. Maybe he says to her Oh, honey. You have got to try this! He hands the other half to her, and they both smile. They decide to take the five remaining treats and share them over the next five days. They agree that, however small, this as an indulgence, something they will look forward to. What an honor to be a part of something that will bless this couple I’ve never even met. And what a blessing for me to know I was part of it.

Often I’ve made plans with a friend or family member and told them I was looking forward to spending time with them. They were my good thing that day.

The times when someone was thinking of us and decided to give us a call or send us a text.

The times when I could see someone was hurting so I offered some encouragement or I prayed with them. A sincere Thank you. I needed that. Or, You made my day.

This is us at our best. Giving a little bit of whatever we have–whatever we are–to someone else.

Even if it’s not chocolate-coated, it’s a beautiful thing.

The Joy of Nest Discovery

I don’t remember seeing this before.

This is a honeysuckle bush in my front yard. In the summer, it’s loaded with leaves on branches that hang down like a willow tree. I get a few fragrant white or butterscotch colored flowers as well, but it’s mostly leaves. The birds also seemed to enjoy the bush this year. I gave them their space. So today when I looked out and saw this clump of straw nestled into the branches, I figured out why the birds frequented the bush.

What a perfect spot they’d chosen for a nest! And I was happy to appreciate their feat of engineering.

6/24/2022

‘Til Death Do Us Part. . .With Our Stuff?

My attempt to add some levity to the topic of clutter in today’s post on Little Town Writer’s Guild. Click here to read.

Blackout Poetry

“Redemption”

I really am sorry

So I came home

screwed up

realized I

don’t need to leave.

I still need more training actively seeking (practicing?) joy.

But sometimes, joy sneaks up on you, and isn’t that fun!

We have a fantastic library in town. Not only did they remain open for curbside service through the pandemic, they also started offering FREE activity bags–to ADULTS! You know I’ve been signing up for those! Thanks to these nifty kits, I’ve tried my hand at zentangle, tested my knowledge of Beatles trivia against my 20-year-old son’s (I failed miserably!), and I made a blackout poem.

To make a blackout poem, you take a text from a book, newspaper, magazine and blackout words to create your own poem. The blacking out can be done in a variety of ways. You can simply mark over words with a marker or you can create an image which highlights certain words.

The library kit contained book pages, 2 black Sharpies, a page of instructions with tips and examples, and a entry form inviting us to enter our creations in a blackout poetry contest. I gave it a try.

I took one of the book pages and scanned it, looking for. . .well, I wasn’t sure what I was looking for! It was my first time doing this. First I looked for words that jumped out at me. Beautiful words. Then I looked for patterns, messages. As the words swam in front of me (similar to the 3D pictures in those Magic Eye books from the 90s), I found I was looking for ways to make them say what I wanted to say.

I enjoyed the process. I was able to at the same time focus on the task in front of me and also get lost in it. It was relaxing and required just enough concentration and creativity to give my mind a mini-vacation.

I circled the words I wanted to keep with a pencil. Then I decided on an image I could draw (with my limited artistic ability) that would compliment the new poem I was creating. I consulted my artist-in-residence (the 20-year-old who also possesses more knowledge of the Beatles than his grandparents), and then got to work with the Sharpie. (The above poem was the result.) I submitted it to the contest.

And I won!

A while after the contest closed, I got a call from one of the librarians telling me I had won the contest. I hope she can still hear out of that ear because I think my voice was very loud and very high-pitched when I responded, “I DID?” Not just was I not expecting it, I was also having a crummy day. Well, actually, an extremely challenging month.

And then the phone rang.

And it was happy news.

I drove myself right up to that wonderful library and retrieved my poem and my prize.

The takeaway here? Take a chance on something new and fun. Take a chance on yourself.

And PLEASE reach out and grab joy whenever you can. I’m convinced, every day presents an opportunity to do just that. We have to be open to it.

(To view the flipbook and see all the entries for this contest, as well as the judge’s comments, click here and “flip” through the pages.)