Beautiful Things (?)

I like to make things. I never realized that I really enjoy making things, tinkering, using my hands in a creative way.
So I have some pretty interesting, unfinished, plain ugly and some quite beautiful things that I have made.
I see things and my first thought is, "can I make that"? It's not to take easy from the original creator's vision but only my curiosity.
Here is an example of a basket I'm still working on. It's clothesline and thread and I'm loving it except for how often I need to change the bobbin.
And the day goes on...

The long long drive

I am taking my boy on a road trip. I don't want to drive but I'm going to do it because I believe it's going to leave my son with a wonderful memory.
Long drives aren't my thing at all nor is organization but I'm awesome and that's all there is to it.
Wish us luck!

Hard days

So summer has been a bit of a challenge so far. I wish it was easy, I wish I were the easy type, but I'm not and surprise, neither is the boy.
Oh well. So we had another hard day. Tomorrow will be better and we will go forward.
I think it's because I feel a disconnect and I'm sure he feels it too. Lately, I feel like I'm my own person and that I want to be alone. I should have titled today's post "I want to be alone"!
So today's take away for me is, patience for him, patience for myself. I have to ingratiate myself to him more than I think and he more to me. We are both a bit prickly and very sensitive.
It's my bedtime now so I'll pray on being a better person, being a better mother and waiting on a new day.

I'm afraid. Inspired by Janice

I'm much heavier/fatter than I think and it's overwhelming.My son is growing older faster than I want or can handle.He needs a calmer more patient, polite mother than I am. I'm crass.I'm still afraid of money, how to earn it, ask for it, make it, spend it, save it. The whole thing just scares the bejesus out of me.I can't seem to get my paintings to have that "finished" quality to them.I need to finish a formal education in order to feel better about myself.I hate working with my husband everyday because it bores me and then I don't want to talk to him about anything later.I'm not as nice as I should be to people. I'm scared about health care and insurance.I'm scared and sad about how people are selfish and rude and don't consider other people like they used to. Everyone is out for themselves and it's just getting worse.I don't want my son to be lazy and not live up to his potential.I'm not living up to my potential.I need a nap.Naps are great.Please and thank you spirits.Love,Rachael

Things...lots of things.

So one of the craziest things about being a parent, is watching parts of you unfold in your child. Maybe these things are wonderful and maybe these things are not so great. I mentioned last time that I took an anger management class and although I learned quite a bit, I've found it hard to "maintain" the lesson. I need to practice. A lot. My son is so much like me it's scary. I prayed when he was nursing that he wouldn't absorb any of my bullshit. Well, among other things like crack or even a little wine, babies or at least, my baby, absorbed my bullshit. He's got a real gift for picking up my negativity and running with it. When I say bullshit, I mean over spending, mindless, unproductive behavior and a serious case of the gimmies. It's the "things" that I love. It's almost like an addiction for me. I need to see what's out there and I try to see it from more than one perspective. Well, my boy likes things too, lots of things and it's hard for me. I don't like what I see and so I need to change it. I need to change too and I hope that I am. But, I need to change what happens with him so that he is better. I need him to be better than the things. The things have to be last and right now they're first. Things to the wayside. That's my summer motto. Let's see if it pans out.

The Guesthouse

As a recent graduate of a an anger management class, I was lucky enough to come across a wonderful poem called the guesthouse. It's a poem by Rumi which, of course, gives it more cache than anything I can think of. Anger management was rough, quite a bit self reflection and it still continues. The Guesthouse just came at the right time and so I'm going to share it.





The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

 
~ Rumi ~