Rising up to say thank you

Later this week we will take a moment to say thank you. How that happens is different in each family's tradition - but usually, somehow, in some way, we do pause before diving into a turkey feast to recognize that we have lots of reasons to say give thanks. I have lots of things for which to be grateful, a good job that I love, a caring family, many supportive friends, a house that keeps me warm and dry, lots of yummy local food - really my life is blessed.

I took some time to think, meditate, pray recently when I had the opportunity to take an art class making a mandala. This artistic way of praying/meditating involves circles and has been used in various spiritual traditions. It is sort of like the recent study that says you can indeed learn (in fact maybe learn better) if you doodle while you listen. The idea is if you are praying while your hands and a part of your mind is busy, you may have a different/deeper expression of prayer.

The class was taught by a totally stereotypical Eugene hippie - she was very encouraging of each of us, which was appreciated by those of us for whom the idea of painting something was a bit intimidating. We focused on the season of autumn, and she had each of us draw a card with an amimal symbol on it. I drew the phoenix - on the back of the card it said that the phoenix, "reminds us that when we fully accept the fire of pain, we transmute what is no longer needed and become more whole/healed." As the teacher guided us through our artwork we were to contemplate what meaning this symbol might have for us. As a Christian the phoenix, a bird that will not die, but instead rises from the ashes, AND the season of autumn, when the whole earth seems to be aflame and heading toward the "death" and darkness of winter before the new birth of spring - all of this has obvious metaphorical overlap with the central story of our faith.

And for me personally, the idea of accepting pain as part of life in order to find wholeness resonates. Yes pain is a part of the story, death is a part of the story, but they are not the end of the story. Life wins. The flames don't kill the phoenix, the winter can't hold back the spring, the tomb is empty.

Working on this project I had the chance to contemplate what it was that needs to die within me, in my work, my life, what has taken more time than it deserves - so that something else - something worthy, something life-giving - can rise up and fly. It was such a gift, this gift of time, focus, listening. Now my mandala of the phoenix and the leaves is in my home, reminding me to take the time to think about what it is I need to mourn, what I need to welcome, and most of all to remember the many things for which I am grateful. My prayer is that all of us will take time to truly give thanks for our many blessings this holiday week.

meltdowns

I have a two-year-old niece (who by the way I believe to be just about as close to perfect as a person can be). This is one of those pictures she may resent me having someday, as it was taken when she was throwing a fit about something while the rest of us tried not to laugh at the pitiful face and big, crocodile tears of what was either a plea for what felt like a big injustice OR was actually a last ditch effort to get some attention before breakfast was over! The thing of it is, that while it is hard for me to keep a straight face when our newest little drama queen turns on the waterworks because she has to do something completely UNFAIR like, you know, NOT throw things in a restaurant (seriously, how does my sister keep from laughing out loud when she gets the puppy dog eye treatment from her?), often I really do empathize with the two-year-old.

Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair. And the most logical reaction to that realization and frustration is to curl out your bottom lip, stamp your feet and have a good cry. Yes, I know we are supposed to be all grown up and MATURE when faced with the day to day things that add up to a less than ideal world. But don't you sometimes just wanna forget about being logical or sensible; don't you just wanna get mad for a little bit; don't you just wanna throw a tantrum and melt down? Sometimes I sure do. And the thing of it is, though we are told that crying won't change anything, it does. After I let myself have a good cry I'm usually tired, but it also cleans me out in some good ways. Those tears help get rid of a little bit of the annoyance, the frustration, the feeling that its all just SO unfair. And I can see things more clearly. Sorta like the way the world looks all sparkly after a rain shower.

So here's to meltdowns, and temper tantrums, and having a good cry. And here's to fresh starts!