The Necessity of Inspiration

I received a phone call from a friend today, Heather Hutchins. She was feeling pretty good because she is probably going to get a job she likes. We meet weekly to write in a Starbucks for a few hours. Her online book can be found on Wattpad. She has been a writer all her life and it shows. I told her about an experience I had this morning returning something to Amazon. It was the first time I used a "locker" to return an item. I plugged the address into my phone map and headed south to Algonquin Road. It was a half-hour drive across town, ending at a BP gas station. I walked through the doors and got in line to ask for help. As I scanned my surroundings, I saw a wall of large orange lockers on one wall. The directions told me to scan my number, so I scanned the bar code. Nothing happened. I read the directions once again and saw that I could enter a number on the keypad. Six numbers later, a locker popped open. I placed the object in the locker and closed it, then headed out to finish errands. When I told Heather about it, she insisted it would make a good start for a story. I replied, "What if it popped open and something came out of it!" We were off, having a blast brainstorming. It was a great restart to a gray, blustery, winter day in the Midwest. I had been sick for three days and was feeling bored and isolated. Suddenly the universe opened up with a cornucopia of ideas. My mood was altered and I felt happy. I sometimes sink into a blue mood when left to myself. I love being alone, but this intervention kept me from going down the slippery slope of self-doubt and self-criticism. Heather is just one of many friends I have that keep me out of that dangerous neighborhood (my head). Do you have someone in your life that inspires the best in you? Find them and keep them. You won't be sorry.

Spiritual Inspiration

Matthew 13: 31-32 "The Kingdom of Heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field; which indeed is smaller than all seeds. But when it is grown, it is greater than the herbs, and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in its branches.” The fall of 1989 was the beginning of a very difficult time in my life. I moved back to be near my parents with three children, a trailer full of furniture, no job, and $200. School was starting the following Monday. My parents helped me move into an apartment three weeks later and I signed up to sub in five school districts. It was the wrong time to be looking for a teaching job. My children’s father paid $200 child support, but altogether I had only $90 left over after paying rent. My children were grieving the loss of their dad and their farm, my twenty-year-old cat had to be put down because of kidney failure, and my morning prayer was, “God, please don’t make me live through this day.” He ignored it and I went about getting the children off to school. I was able to get the family in for counseling on a sliding-scale fee and the counselors gave me a pass to get a Thanksgiving basket at the food pantry. When I picked it up and opened it, there on top was a Christmas hand towel. It touched me deeply that someone cared about me. Fast forward to retirement. All three kids had made it through college and I had paid off all of my loans. Marseilles, IL had a terrible flood and I decided to collect Christmas decorations for those families. I contacted the Methodist Church there, the minister set up the basement for me, and her children skipped as they helped me unload the car. I have been doing it every year since. After several failures to connect, I have chosen to give the decorations to the Angel Tree families. It brings joy to those who donate and to those who receive. And it all started with one Christmas hand towel. I wrote this passage for an advent activity at my church. I have put my spiritual beliefs at the end of the year, because religion is so controversial. If you are a Christian, are you "the right kind" of Christian? Are you someone who just goes to church, or does your whole life reflect your experiences with spirit? If you are an atheist, you can stop reading here. You probably already did. For those of us that have had spiritual experiences that are beyond denial, the spirit is a powerful force for good. Beauty, truth, love, these all reflect what we experience when we are receptive to spiritual guidance. For me, the desire to create flows from within by some unknowable process. What makes music cycle in my head unexpectedly? Where do the words come from that describe what it is like to nurse a baby? Why do I choose certain fabrics for my quilt? I can't say I have a direct line with God, but I try to be open and willing to create, to give to others, and to serve others. The rewards have been a cornucopia of good will

Inspiration and Our Children

The holidays are a mixed bag for many people. Memories of drunken arguments are interspersed among my happy memories of holidays with relatives. I love my family dearly and have made it a rule that all opinions may be expressed in my home, although I know I would not accept a racist comment without responding strongly. We have had a few arguments in the last two decades, but it does not keep us from getting together and having fun.

 I would do anything for my kids (except racism, sexism, etc.) from the moment they were born. My friend called it the mother hen syndrome. I have told my oldest that I was a pacifist until he was born. At that time, I knew I would kill anyone that tried to kill him.

Why do our children inspire us so much? For me, the reason is that my children have surpassed me in so many ways. My oldest is a prize-winning racer. He runs up tall buildings and has done marathons and triathlons. His running took off in junior high, and he was part of a team that took second place at state in high school. He is a programmer and he is much more proficient in that than I am, as well. My second child has made a beautiful home for his family in the country and manages a school district's technology. His spiritual growth began to eclipse mine in his young adult years, and he and his wife have raised three children with beautiful characters. More about them later. My youngest was the artist, and showed talent in singing and art from a very early age. Unable to find full-time employment in those fields, she transformed her life with an advanced degree and began a beautiful family several years ago. She treats patients for speech and voice problems, although she is presently home with her first child.

Ah, grandchildren. The best part of getting old. My oldest grandchild is the spirit of kindness, even to her siblings. She has begun to develop her musical talent and we play/sing with her sister and other family members when we get together. She is fascinated by succulents at the moment. She (and her siblings) knows more than I do about my favorite subjects, such as space and plants. Once she learns something, she doesn't forget it. The second grandchild, lover to all the world, has performed as a dancer and pianist, and she knows everything her sister does. You wouldn't know there are two years between them. They will be a force for good in the world. The third grandchild tries to keep up with his sisters. He came from a different country, culture, and DNA source. His life has been a long adjustment to different food, climate, culture, and behavior. He shines in his loving kindness to others. And grandchild number four is waiting to meet me. She is waking, eating, sleeping and pooping at the present time, but has been born into a loving, healthy home. What will her future look like in the decades to come? I was hit with the difference in generations when I took a Spanish class at the local community college. The teacher asked about different activities we did when we were young. Toys - I rode my bike, TV shows - Smothers Brothers, Video games - didn't exist, Vacations - camping in the Rockies, books - Lassie and Ladd, the Red series. Most of the young people in the class had no clue what I was talking about except, of course, the Rockies.

I am at the age when I blink and it's time to put the garbage out again. I don't even try to think about time passing anymore, since I have no control over it. It also means I've had a remarkable year, with lots of fun and not much suffering. Last night my oldest granddaughter beat me soundly in a simple game of strategy, twice. Thank goodness for the coming generations. They inspire us to live our best lives and make their world better.

Pack Rats Unite!

When’s the last time you went through your closets? I got carpeting a couple of weeks ago and brought all of the boxes that had been in the closet downstairs. My daughter confirmed that I was looking a lot like a hoarder. However, I am determined to get rid of stuff my children will not want when I die. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Swedish custom of dödstädning, “death cleaning.” My non-fiction book club read The Boomer’s Burden last year, and I was shocked when all three of my children refused the souvenirs Dad brought back from WWII. My oldest at least listened to the story of my dad’s front line experiences, the few he shared with us. But that’s another story

The topic this year is inspiration. While going through a box full of my mementos, I ran across a letter from a friend of thirty years, Jim Gieseler. He told me that I inspired him. Single mothers impressed him, given all that they had to do. When I was going through a messy divorce and poverty with my three beloved children, I could not see what I was supposed to learn from the experience. I have faith that God loves me as much as I love my children (or more), but I’m not sure he has control over what suffering we impose on each other — free will and all. Now I read this letter and I know my suffering was building character and showing others how to strive when odds were against them. My friend has five children. His life could not have been easy. But I am grateful that he saw the best in me and told me so. 

Who is inspiring you? Have you told them lately? What’s keeping you from it? Do it now. Time is never promised.