Good Stuff

I'm with my friend, Leslie. She's in the National Institute of Health in a clinic trial for a stem cell transplant.  Leslie is a courageous, amazing woman.  We've emailed off and on for years and I'm blessed to be on her prayer list. 

This week, I'm staying her temporary apartment in Bethesda while she's in the hospital. 

 And she doesn't have any of her stuff with her. 

I know I've been railing against stuff. But not all stuff is bad- the bits and pieces of our lives that create comfort and bring life are important. Beauty brings life.  I've never visited Leslie's Maine home but I've been to Maine and she lives surrounded by beauty. So here's the beauty she brought with her. 

Fresh flowers and an Edgecomb whale tail mug.

http://edgecombpotters.com/store/pottery/mugs

Leslie has loose tea and do it yourself tea bags. Lovely cuppa tea this morning. 

Leslie teaches people about tea at the Cumberland, Maine farmer's market. 

http://cumberlandfarmersmarket.org/

Cottage Berry Farm LLC
Leslie Fitzgerald
market.galme@gmail.com
Cumberland, ME Berries in Season, one of a kind felted hats and dolls.

Even in a temp cupboard, there is lovely loose teas.

The famous whale tail mug. 

A gift of beauty for her temporary world.

Leslie is gifted knitter. Even here, she has her beautiful wool. 

Beauty in bags, wool, mugs; beauty in Leslie. 

Tea and flowers.... even borrowed art is a blessing.

more tea potential

I absolutely love these mugs. Can you tell?

And I love Leslie.  I love her sense of beauty- mugs, art,  hand died fine wools. I love that her stuff reflects who she is.  As it should be.

Image magazine's motto is "Beauty will save the world."  Amen.


http://imagejournal.org/

More stuff

I’m traveling and staying with friends or family. It’s great. I love people; I love my family.

We all have a lot of stuff.

I wrote about it before- about traveling light. And I’ve decided the fundamental problem is we are blind to our own stuff and we are bound to our own stuff.

When I cleaned out my house, people would come over occasionally to help me. And I could see it in their eyes, hear it in their voice, “Get rid of that thing. You don’t need to keep it. Why are you keeping all that?”  Few people came out and said anything, and if they did, I usually had a defense for the particular treasure, “That was his father’s tool.  My first baby came home from the hospital in that. It’s the children’s art work and I’ve already thrown out most of it.”

I’d love to have pictures of my treasures that eventually ended up in the trash can. But it wasn’t a clever lesson to blog about then, it was a severely painful act. I sorted and I gave away and I donated and in the end, I threw away.

And I don’t remember any of the things I “lost”.  I do remember the smiles of the recipients. I gave away one of my two Le Cruset pots. They weigh a ton and did I really need two? And I love the family I gave it to- we ate meals together from that green pot and it was a true joy to give it to them.  And they treasure it because they treasure me; we treasure each other.  A pot ties us together.

So I’d love to say I have exactly what I need at my new house and nothing else. But I still find pieces of my old life- too many Christmas ornaments, linens I can’t seem to part with (like I’m ever going to iron damask again!), art supplies I swear I’ll use, other people’s art that may or may not fit into this house. “Maybe my kids will want it some day. I paid a lot of money for it.  I may decide to throw a formal party and need an oversize damask tablecloth… in my casual log cabin.”  Deluded- deceived, misled, lied to.

"If I have stuff, I’ll be happy, I’ll be able to entertain, I’ll have something to pass on to my kids." Lies.

Instead we have stuff that we trip over,  stuff to dust (or to not dust and have guilt), stuff in drawers, closets and under beds.  Some of us rent storage units and pay money to make sure we have access to the stuff that won’t fit in our house and that we don’t use.

The reality is- stuff just makes us nuts, takes time to clean and sort and organize. People don’t want to be entertained; they’re looking for a cup of tea and a open heart. And the kids have stuff of their own.  Do you want your mother’s what-nots and thingies?  I know you paid good money for your treasures- she paid good money for hers. But most of us still end up with too much. 

Having a back seat the size of a twin bed is an invitation to "Take more stuff for the baby"

A girl's gotta have clothes. 

Books, book, books!
What did I think - that I could really read two dozen books this winter.?
And write my life story? 

I'm staying with a long time friend. We've known each other for years and years and had drifted apart, lost touch.  But I'm a fiend for keeping in touch and she ended up reading my blog and we are back speaking truth into each other's lives and loving it!

Juanita's wonderful coffee bar in her butler's pantry.
What a terrific hostess!

Juanita would be the first to say she has stuff. Lovely stuff but more than she wants. And this is the plate I found on her coffee area.

Is that it?  Do we need a goal, a focus, a reason to purge?  I got rid of stuff when I had to move and now I need to continue that process. Did God know His enslaved people needed to be refined before they could be the conquerers He foresaw? They needed to leave behind what they were attached to. The mentality of slavery, the bondage to a lifestyle, the stuff that held them back.   They bundled up everything they could carry and fled in the night.  There must have times when they bemoaned the loss of their bread ovens. We know they whined about missing the leeks and the onions of Egypt.  Their shoes didn't fall apart but they must have missed the extra tunics or blankets they had to leave. "Even if the pots we left behind were coarse and crude, they were ours."

The enslaved poor are as bound to their things as much as the rich.   It's our security, our identity, our comfort, our stuff.

So we can either wait for God to give us the divine shove to leave behind our stuff- and let me tell you, it can be painful, or we can chose for ourselves and look forward to Days of Freedom just as the Israelites could.  We're not motivated by what we should do.  Our hearts are stirred to do so we can accomplish a goal. See a change.  Be more fully who we are supposed to be. Without all the stuff.


Simplicity, order, space in our heads, quiet in our hearts to more fully engage with Life.

 Exodus- departure, leaving behind and going forward-

 receiving life from the Bread of Simplicity, 

chosing joy and a Time of Singing, 

rejoicing in our Days of Freedom.

 Unbound from our stuff. 

Revisting a labyrinth, revisiting the stuff

It's spring time in Virginia

 

Flowering plants strain at the warmth,  branches spring into life.

It's almost time for Easter.

                        Lent reflections give me pause

Lenten Rose

Hyacinth emerge near warm rocks

I revist a local labyrinth to walk the pattern, to settle my soul, to hear from God.  Soak in the peace.

My childhood on the farm gives me a great fondness for all things  farm, including silos,
 especially silos turned into intimate chapels with stained glass 

So I walk the eleven circuits of the labyrinth. I seek nothing; He speaks anyway.

Always when we are quiet, He can speak and we can hear.



And I think as I walk carefully, staying within the narrow path of gray. How simple is the labyrinth walk, how profound in its simplicty.

 And then, you are at the center. Simple, clean, ordinary yet extr-odinary. Extra, above, beyond the ordinary- above the common, the customary, the habitual.

I am at the center of the labyrinth, at the heart of my walk.  

But this is too often what my ordinary looks like. 

I have learned some lessons this spring. 

I set off in the dead of winter and have had spring everywhere I've traveled. 

 I have a small home that I haul around with winter clothes, spring clothes, 

summer clothes for the coming season.  

I have books- way too many books. 

I have staples and supplies to cook with; toiletries, toilet paer and towels.  

A mattress topper and linens, throws and pillows.

I carry creature comforts. 

Like moss growing up in the cracks of a labyrinth, my stuff distracts me. 

 The moss would eventually cover the stone if allowed to grow, 

obscure the path,

 blur the lines this seeker desires to follow. 

 I lay on my back on the cool stone floor of grain silos. Previously utilitarian storage, they have been transformed into chapels. A thin strip of mosaic glass bisects thick white walls.  Tops that once guarded grain are removed. Now, clouds flow by and I am guarded by the sky contained in a single, perfect orb. I float beneath a blue and white earth while the brown and green earth rotates beneath me.   Life is complete and all  I need is contained in the small space I occupy.

So why do I carry all the stuff?

 More and more, I am shedding the need for stuff.  I can only fully absorb one, perhaps two books at a time. I need a notebook and a pen, not a dozen of each.

 I collect seeds, rocks and shells but one of each would be enough to remind me of the lessons of desert, mountain and sea.

 I have worn half my clothes.  I'm not even sleeping in my camper much- I know plenty of people who appear happy to host me in their homes. I buy food and cook for them in their fully equipped kitchens.

My camper is helpful to haul baby stuff to my daughter and return the remaining Virginia stuff to my South Dakota house. I'm seeing a pattern here.

Everything is neatly stacked away. Invisible, neat and tidy. Until the road swerves and I hit the unexpected bumps of the road and suddenly, my neat and tidy is strewn and messy. My camper has locking doors but inevitably I leave out a book or two, a box of rocks, a pile of maps, a potholder.  And they all  end up on the floor to confront me when I next open the door.

Is my stuff the moss that is threatening to cover my path, slow down my journey?

1. The material out of which something is made or formed; substance. 2. The essential substance or elements; essence:                        "We are such stuff/As dreams are made on"(Shakespeare).

Stuff

3. Informal a. Unspecified material: Put that stuff over there. b. Household or personal articles considered as a group. c. Worthless objects It also means to cram full, to add more than is legal, to stuff the ballot box, to block an opening, to overeat, to gorge.  To fill one's mind.     http://www.thefreedictionary.com/stuff What does the simple walk look like? Is this how I want my journey - stuffed, crammed, gorged?  This spring as I have traveled, I have soaked in great beauty; met new friends, enjoyed old; captured lovely images and ..... I  have been reminded again, that it's not about the stuff.  I need to let go, give more away, need less. So where else in my life do can I store and stash? When the life journey swerves or hits a bump what other junk ends up exposed? In this season, I'm cleaning out old emotional baggage.  I'm exploring relational patterns that no longer fit who I am becoming.  It's exhilarating. It's freedom. And it's time to cut some bonds to some of the stuff.  I want my future journey to reflect this lesson - travel lighter.... There's beauty in the open road.

My favorite city

Nothing beats Washington, DC on a beautiful spring day!

One of my favorite spots... National Botanical Gardens

And I arrived during the annual orchid show- wow! 

Love this view down the main room of the gardens. I could live here. 

http://www.usbg.gov/

Looking back toward the garden room and the Capital

The outdoor gardens.
 I'm spying on people enjoying the sun.... 

A mom with her daughtter.
In the background, a professional photogragher takes shots of a couple
and their... puppy.  Adorable.

View toward National Museusm of Anerican Indians.
Love this building.

http://nmai.si.edu/home/

Native Indian museum grounds looking toward the Washington Monument

See why I love this space! 

And my favorite of all-
National Gallery of Art

Classy

Contemplative

And very cool- art AND words. Be still my heart!

http://www.nga.gov/ginfo/aboutnga.shtm

In the Tower: Mel Bochner
November 6, 2011–April 29, 2012

In the Tower is a series of exhibitions at the National Gallery of Art centering on developments in art since midcentury.

Related Resources Works by Mel Bochner in the Gallery's Collection Biography of Mel Bochner Permanent Installation Mel Bochner: Theory of Boundaries (1969–1970)

For some 45 years Mel Bochner has explored the intersections of linguistic and visual representation. As one of the pioneers of conceptual art during the 1960s, Bochner developed an art that causes us to read and see simultaneously—to "think" as we look. The exhibition will present 43 thesaurus-inspired paintings and drawings that span Bochner's career, including the thesaurus paintingsMoney, Die, Useless, Obscene, andSputter; a new monochrome painting (Blah, Blah, Blah); and four major diptychs that have never before been exhibited (Master of the Universe, Oh Well, Amazing!, and Babble). The exhibition will also feature the artist's Portraits series of the 1960s, including several works on view for the first time.

Organization: Organized by the National Gallery of Art.

Back to flowers- these are along the wall of glass that water flows behind. The wall is between the East and West wings of the gallery. 

West wing is traditional , East is modern. Both are awesome.

The space ship hallway between West and East.
Says something, not sure what.
 I have an amazing camera on my iPhone?

What can I say? I love this city. I love the people here - I talked to a orchid grower who told me all about the orchids in the show, his personal orchid growing stories and then we had a great conversation about his travels with his wife to Nova Scotia, etc.

The young gal at the crosswalk just flew in from Phoenix- she loves DC, lived there for three years but had to leave to get a job... hmm, I should have gotten her contact info, sounds like someone else I know.  She was heading for her favorite Smithsonian museum - the National Gallery of Art, so clearly she is a young woman of great class and taste. :)

I chatted with gallery guards and people on the Metro.   And my terrific day all started with a fabulous lunch with a dear friend, April, who lives with her sweet husband, Martin, just a block off the Mall. I envy their cozy apartment within walking distance of the heart of wonderful Washington.

I'm grateful for the years here that gave me confidence in riding the Metro- I did get on the wrong train once but just hopped off at the next station.  I left my winter clothes with my mother in Tucson (to be taken back to SD)  or in my camper 40 minutes south so I was forced to wear jeans- arghh, not in "chic, all black" DC so I decided to be a tourist and snap photos and "ohh and ahh" over the place. Great fun!

So thank you, DC, for a lovely day- started a bit chilly but the sun came out and it became just perfect. No cherry blossoms yet but the tulip trees were in full beauty and the promise of spring is almost as much fun as the real deal after a long winter.   Thank you to my fabulous hosts, Keith and Sharon, who picked me up at the airport, fed me dinner, gave me a bed, loaned me a car and let me chatter about my life.  Thank you, April, for a yummy lunch and all your kind words of affirmation. I love the book you gave me. Thank you.
(Circle Maker by Mark Batterson  http://www.amazon.com/Circle-Maker-Praying-Circles-Greatest/dp/0310333024)


And thank you, Jesus. Life is good.