I haven’t written a blog post in a while. I have sat down to write, but everything has sounded off in my head.
For the past few months, I have been taking a class called Attitudinal Healing. There are 12 principles for letting go of pain and finding inner peace. This week’s principle is “I can see the whole of life, not just the fragments.” Oh, boy.
As I have been reflecting on this, I have come to realize that I see something a bit different.
I can see my life as a whole up to two years ago.
From that point on, I see fragments.
I don’t want to feel like my life is still broken by one person’s (well, two people’s) choices, so, I have been challenging myself to think about it differently. This week has given me a lot to think about – especially in light of Thanksgiving and the family traditions that go along with that. Here are a few of the things I can celebrate as a result.
Traditions. Many of the things I do instinctively around the holidays come from things we did when I was young. I make some of the same foods that my grandmother taught me to make when I was young. My kids now relate those same foods with the traditions of our holidays. The traditions that we have done for so long that I don’t even know where they started are the things that help me stay rooted and know who I am in the greater context.
Stories. We learn through stories and we teach through stories. The stories of those who came before us become our stories and we keep them moving through time. I am fascinated with capturing those stories so they aren’t lost. They are too important to understanding who we are and why. Understanding that I come from a long line of farm women who were strong, independent, and fierce helps me understand who I am and why I am. Just as understanding that my drive to work hard and be innovative comes from a long line of entrepreneurs. I am always looking to connect with the stories of our family and understand my place in the bigger picture and I hope to capture them to share with my children.
Home. As in my hometown. I live in the suburbs outside of a city, but home is and will always be home. My husband is from the same place, but it was never his home. I have been gone for more than twenty years and I still say that I am from there. I don’t know if my own children feel that sense of home about where we live, or if it is something that everyone finds in their own time, but no matter where I live, going home will always mean going back to that place, the people, and the daily routine of small town life.
Family. My boys are the most important thing in my world. Period. But the bigger context of family – Family (Uppercase F) – is what I want them to value. When it comes down to it, family is who you are and who loves you unconditionally. Having that sense of family that grows and changes over time and yet remains constant is a gift.
I am reminded of a kind of pottery firing called Raku that friends of ours did years ago. The pieces are dried and then the special Raku glaze is put on them. When you are looking just at the glaze, you have no idea how the piece will look after firing because the pieces are actually fired in an open flame and each glaze reacts differently, depending on the heat and type of fire. It is always a surprise to see how the pieces turn out when they have finally cooled enough to take them out of the fire.
My favorite glazes look like they cracked in the heat of the fire or they have gotten so hot that they become almost jewel-like. I think of the whole and the fragments like that – the firing and the glaze are only fragments of the process. It takes the fire, burning the piece, to turn it into a beautiful work of art.
