the mud

the mud: Just : On Friday I left my phone in the car and my son, completely exasperated with me, yelled, "Who even does that?" Well, apparently so...

On Friday I left my phone in the car and my son, completely exasperated with me, yelled, "Who even does that?" Well, apparently someone who didn't grow up with a phone attached to their hand, that's who. My kids have started calling me, "Boomer," as in "Ok, Boomer," when I say something they think is antiquated and not with the times and the sarcasm just rings right through. But I have to argue, I'm not a boomer. Boomers were born through 1964. I'm a Gen X-er, born between 1964 and 1976. I never thought these titles would have any relevance for me but here we are. I do have certain characteristics that drive my kids crazy, like not answering my phone. So many differences between us and yet I still think to myself, I get it. I know how hard it is to be a kid today, to grow up with all these expectations and judgments and stressors. Yet I don't. I say I do. I try to get it. I try to commiserate with them about social media and college and

the mud: Consolation and Desolation :  I went to a Jesuit college, where I met my husband. There is a lot of Jesuit experience in our family: my dad went to Jesuit college, my hu...

 I went to a Jesuit college, where I met my husband. There is a lot of Jesuit experience in our family: my dad went to Jesuit college, my husband's grandfather taught at a Jesuit university, three of our kids went to Jesuit schools. But sometimes I learned the most about the Jesuits when others would say to me, "Well, you know what the Jesuits say..." and they would share something I never heard before. This even happened at the doctor's office, where my doctor had gone to a Jesuit school. It's an interesting dynamic that bonds us to each other, knowing we experienced Jesuit training. Anyway, one of those concepts is the Spiritual Exercises written by Saint Ignatius. I wanted to share this exercise of Consolation and Desolation today because it's ringing true for me.  Consolation is a time when we feel full of love toward ourselves, toward others, toward the world itself. Desolation is the absence of those feelings, and the absence of love.  'Desolation’

the mud: Beneath :  I love this time of year when little things start poking out of the ground - things that were invisible before, things I had forgotten abou...

the mud: Lent Lite :  Hello! Thanks for coming by! Today is Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras, a day I indulge just a little bit more before Lent begins and I try to sta...

the mud: Sabbatical :  When I first started my last teaching job nine years ago, they offered a year of sabbatical every nine years. Can you imagine? One year to ...

the mud: Solitude : I remember learning about photography from my dad when I was a teenager. I had gotten a 35mm camera for Christmas one year and he explained ...

the mud: Stillness :  I can't tell you how many cold cups of tea and coffee I've had around my house, classroom, my car, wherever. It seems that I enjoy ...

 I love this time of year when little things start poking out of the ground - things that were invisible before, things I had forgotten about since last spring. Ironically, the kale in the garden is growing again despite no care or effort on my part. The little purple crocuses came out of the ground last week, but I think they shied away again when the cold spell hit this weekend. I'm so wonder-filled to see these things that were hidden. It reminds me of two things. One is a song called The Summons . One line is "will you love the "you" you hide, if I but call your name." I think that means we need to learn to love ourselves before anything else can happen, even the parts of us that we think we need to hide, out of shame, out of fear, out of mistaken despair, out of depression, or depravity.  And the other thing this season reminds me of is this beautiful little book that I came across last weekend in the most adorable little book shoppe in Boston, Beacon Hill

 I can't tell you how many cold cups of tea and coffee I've had around my house, classroom, my car, wherever. It seems that I enjoy the ritual of making coffee (or tea) but that I never get to fully indulge in the experience. It's because I, like you I'm sure, am always on the move. Going places, moving around, catching up, or getting one more thing done. Keeping up with our lives, keeping up with the kids, the neighbors, the clients. Today I invite you to stillness. Sit. Relax. Drink the whole mug. Use a beautiful mug and a beautiful spoon to stir it. Then be still. What would happen? Does it make you anxious to think about it?  When we are constantly in motion, our nerves are taking in lots of input. When we are taking in lots of input, we are on alert, and our senses are overwhelmed. Being still allows us to settle our thoughts, settle our hearts, settle our emotions. There is a wonderful prayer, "Be still, and know that I am God." One way to pray this pray

I remember learning about photography from my dad when I was a teenager. I had gotten a 35mm camera for Christmas one year and he explained to me about lenses and settings and aperture - how much light was being allowed in through the lens. It changes the focus and the concentration of the picture that develops. Remember when we had to know these things? We can do the same with our lives: How much light are we letting in and what is it focused on. I know for me the light is usually focused on other things, other people, other events. In Lent, we can take some time to focus on our inner room , let the light land inside us and see what's going on in our hearts, our minds, our bodies. I know I'm a different Me in different situations - the Me when I'm alone meditating is different from the Me when I'm at dinner with my husband. I invite you to narrow the lens, widen the aperture, and focus inside. How often do you find time to be alone? When can you just be yourself and kn

 When I first started my last teaching job nine years ago, they offered a year of sabbatical every nine years. Can you imagine? One year to do and explore and learn that was paid! They took it away shortly after I was hired and I never made it. But guess what? We can take our own sabbatical any time. You are probably saying, there's no way. The world would come crashing to a halt if I took one year off, let alone one day. And I'm sure you'd be right. But what if we took moments of sabbatical? What if we took an hour a day? a minute an hour? One day a week? Here's a history of the  Jewish feast of Sabbath . A day of rest. A day of quiet. No work. No labor. No striving . Sounds glorious, doesn't it? No travel, no cooking, no cleaning. That is impressive. (Ironically, this link here is from Rabbi Rifat Sonsino, PhD., a professor at Boston College, where we just got back from a visit with our daughter. It's all connected!)  A sabbatical is a break or change from no

 Hello! Thanks for coming by! Today is Fat Tuesday or Mardi Gras, a day I indulge just a little bit more before Lent begins and I try to start sacrificing all the things I shouldn't do or eat anyway - coffee, wine, salt, and butter and potato chips. (Sometimes I think food is just vehicle to get more salt into my mouth.) But this year I'm going to try to do things a little differently. I'm going to write each day and try to ask, and hopefully answer, some questions that have been on my mind as I enter the 'second half of life.' This is going to be Lent Lite - the easy way to step back and reflect on what it is that I want in my life. It won't be heavy on the Catholic guilt or any of that stuff either, just a little sprinkle of spirituality that gets lost in our everyday travels. Maybe it won't be so easy, but I hope you'll join me for it. Hit follow below to come along on the journey! 

 During the weeks of holiday preparations, I found myself rushing about like we all do. But this year I was more conscious of trying to slow down - not to change my pace, or shorten my list of to-dos, but to be aware of my movement. It's because this year I'm feeling old. Maybe not totally old, but I'm really thinking about the idea that an accident could throw everything into chaos. If I fell down the steps, if I cut myself, if I burned myself. So I had to whisper these little reminders as I went about my day, "Don't forget to use the potholder!" "Be careful with that knife!" "Hold the railing when you walk down the stairs!" I was talking to myself like I would a 3-year-old! What has happened to me? It's this new hyperawareness that things aren't always in my control, but also that I have to take each step one at a time.  So this worked for me. The list was complete. The cookies didn't burn. The knives were all back in order. T