UU Intersections

Ordinary Day

2009-06-25T21:56:00.005-04:00

I usually write one status update per day for Facebook...just have gotten into that dissociative habit of naming my actions in the third person. But today my little life was far too ordinary...

Just too ordinary. Sure we're having marital insecurities, we'll be moving in a month or so, and the amount of money I bring home each month is decreasing while our bills are increasing... yeah, that's life.

In other worlds, celebrities have come and gone...Ed McMahon, Farah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson. His was one of the saddest lives. As I started to read the news releases--especially the unconfirmed reports--I remembered why I don't usually follow the lives of the rich and famous: they are much too depressing. Tonight, I wonder most about his children...

My own children meanwhile laugh in the other room with innocence. They sing and dance to the Hokey Pokey. Books are spread out throughout the room as they read stories (in their own way) to one another. They hug each other and say "I love you". "No, my sister is not an evil step sister," the older one says...though of this she is not always so sure...

At the grocery store, my husband runs into my 4 1/2 year old daughter's best friend. They haven't seen each other in a month or so, since the friend- M- was removed from preschool for behavioral issues and emotional disturbance. When my husband mentions that we will be moving, M's mother has to restrain her. Doctors have diagnosed the 5 year old as bipolar, and she is being treated. But she is also a victim of childhood trauma--a witness to domestic violence. And what is the treatment for that?

Other stories fall on my door step. Swine flu hitting too close to home--the elderly with lives in balance. People I know who have worked hard for 25 years have been laid off and can no longer get a job. Worse-- they are being forced to go without health insurance--and ultimately health care. (I am in the end grateful for my own $200 per month reduction in pay...) And health insurance premiums continue to rise...

This is the brokenness we surround ourselves with in daily life. I don't need the headlines of the paper to tell me about celebrities and their deranged psychology, and the trails of pain left in their wake. I don't need to make a god out of my pain.

Yesterday a perfect, complete rainbow broke through a month of monsoon. Tonight the lightning split across the dark gray sky; my neighbor from upstairs knocks on my door to return a borrowed umbrella.

We are all in this together in these difficult times-- each of us relearning to face and connect to our brokenness. Each us relearning to share our space beneath the sky.

Defender of the Faith

2009-06-24T21:12:00.012-04:00

At lunch today I had a conversation with some coworkers about my decision (and opportunity) to take a seminary class in the fall... Within that conversation, I thought about the successes and the failings of UUism. The people at my table were mainly practitioners outside of traditional organized religion-- looking to shamanism or interfaith gatherings as their found ways to be religious. In my own way, I found myself both defending and critiquing my own faith--and ultimately standing by my commitment to work for change from within UUism.

As a future pursuant of ministry, I have wondered about this often-- about whether it would be better to be more of an entrepreneur, to pursue a route outside of organized religion. I have participated in some great (and some not so great..) interfaith ceremonies, and considered that route... A similar dilemma arose in my own religious background: I was raised in a Catholic church that went its own way after struggling for many years within the establishment. My parents were divided on the issue-- one chose to work for change from within, the other to follow the new church in its abandonment of papal restrictions on women's roles, among other things.

I have struggled with this issue in another way within UUism. It may sound strange--the whole thought of a church that emphasizes such freedom of belief and practice to be anything but free and open. We are very welcoming to people of diverse religious backgrounds and also to gay and lesbian people. Where we fail is in our lack of economic and racial diversity. I actually don't find this all that surprising, given our elitist Unitarian past. To enter into an institution of any kind in many ways bears with it the burden of its past. Change requires a new way of cherishing the bounty of that tradition, while also looking to the wisdom of lessons we have learned along the way to help us change.

As for committing to stay, I guess I have too much hope... I have too much hope that my Unitarian Universalist church CAN transform and realize the rhetoric of diversity that it claims. One of the reasons I believe this is because there is a new generation of people who were raised crossing those lines on a daily basis. So maybe if the older generation doesn't quite realize the importance, the need, or the way this shall be done-- then the younger one will have to lead the way.

On another note, I have to ask myself-- but why bother? Why NOT just try to create something new from without? To answer this, I look at all my Unitarian Universalist sisters and brothers are doing and have done right throughout our history and now in this present. I look to our activist work for GLBT rights now, and to the voices that have emerged from within its walls in the past for women's suffrage, civil rights, etc.. I also look to the wealth of resources we have within-- our religious education programs, for instance.

I look to how speaking together as a church can create greater change than any individual-- or renegade group-- can do alone. To speak together lends power to voice at the level of impact. I believe there are enough within and emerging who can speak together to transform the world-- even as we are transforming our own religion.

I also believe there are many without who have not yet found their home within these walls-- for maybe there are too many walls surrounding our churches to enter.

So really it is up to a new generation of emerging voices-- and to those elders who share the vision-- to break down those walls and widen the circle.

For me, I am committed to working and walking with both--communities within and communities without the UU church. I walk with some pretty powerful people beside me toward that vision of change: change within AND change without.

Networks of Support

2009-06-23T12:57:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, I spent my day off in deep discernment and connection. It is very rare that I take any time at all for myself, usually either working, caring for my children, or doing something or other for church. My personal choice of activities probably says a little about how I work through problems-- as I jumped from appointments with my spiritual director, my minister, and--in the evening--with my Be Present support group. In the middle of it all, I spent time with my kids--home from preschool and awakened from naps. And finally, at the end of it all...with my husband.

For him, a day off usually means solitude-- a walk in the woods, or fishing by a quiet lake. I enjoy my quiet time too-- especially that which is used in creative process-- but in times of difficult despair, it is connection with others which heals and helps move me to a new place.

My husband has decided that in order to heal the rifts in our relationship--and more importantly, the rifts in himself--he may need to seek help from other people. It may not be enough to go to the woods; he may need to delve into his own internal woods, with a guide to help him see into that darkness.

He came to the conclusion that he needs to do this-- to work towards healing those internal wounds, to work toward wholeness-- and that he cannot do it alone. He decided that he needs to do this not only because our relationship is at stake, but because it is the only we he can grow in so many aspects of his life.

The story my husband grew up with is that to seek help from others is weakness. And yet it is exactly that story of "manhood" which is threatening both his mental health and our relationship.

I will stand by him as he enters into this brave journey. It is a lesson of living I have learned and hold to-- that to seek the counsel of others emboldens the power within. And to know that we are surrounded by witnessess connects us to circles of life so much greater than ourselves.

The Beginning or The End?

2009-06-20T21:12:00.005-04:00

Transitions are a recurring topic of mine on this UU blog... I suppose spiritual questions seem most poignant in those crossings and life changes, the quest for meaning reaching a screeching crescendo. I also suppose that at 33 I find myself still in a sort of Odyssey stage, even though by all societal definitions I should have settled down by now. This isn't true about everything of course-- there are places and times when home is more present than ever. I am grounded in my children-- just spent the past half hour cooing with my little one, chasing the monsters out of her bedroom, rocking her to sleep. Those moments fill me with a sense of peace and well-being.

I am also more grounded than ever in my sense of purpose and mission--the past four days of work on a conference re-emphasizing my commitment to working to bridge the gaps of difference and build communities across borders; to creating the intersections where diverse peoples can listen and grow from one another; and to restoring the connection between the rich wellsprings of spirit and the trodden pathways of justice in the world. Phew! Challenging for sure-- but I am more than ever ready to live this--and to join in this challenge with others! (To this point, I am meeting with my congregation's minister on Monday to discuss the steps I need to take to get started on the path toward ministry, and to begin taking classes in the fall.)

And so of these things I am sure: Devotion to my children. Devotion to my calling.

As for everything else...

It stands on so much shaky ground, so much of it on the verge of crumbling. And I'm not really sure that it hasn't already been condemned.

I have been asking myself this question over and over and really have no idea where to turn for answers... at what point do you just stop trying? And what if you realize that really you just already have stopped trying and that's the whole problem? AND that all you are really doing anymore is trying to get by with causing and receiving the least amount of pain? I have committed myself to living a life of transparent truth in nearly every aspect of my life... but I am lost for answers when it comes to the relationship with the person I once committed to share a life with. And as I look to the future--our condo now sold--I can't even bring myself to scan the real estate listings for the next landing place. In thinking about this part of the future, I feel nothing but a sense of numb. We have had our very high ups and our very low downs. I don't know what right now is...I could go on and on with all that is wrong, but I am also tired of doing that... Right now I am just lost.

So I thought the past four days' trauma forum would be the culmination of a lot of hard work paid off. I thought it would be the ending of a job, in a sense... but really it feels more like a beginning.

And on the other hand, a few months ago I thought selling the condo and moving would be a beginning to build a life in a new home, to grow roots with my family....

And instead I am finding myself stuck. Absolutely no idea how to begin. And completely impossibly unknowing how to end.

Just Stewing...

2009-06-16T21:33:00.004-04:00

...with this sick feeling in my gut. Classism is something that a lot of people "just don't get".

Maybe it's not exactly "classism" in the sense of outright deliberate discrimination. More likely it is a kind of ignorance, an assumption that the choices, options, and material constructs of one's own life "should be" shared amongst all members of a given culture.

While I won't go into the details of the situation (until I've moved beyond my current work situation...), I can say only this:

Again and again, the reality of those who call the shots is not the reality of all others surrounding. Justice for all requires moving beyond one's own privileged perspective and into the shoes of others. It requires equal parts listening and humility. And it requires bravery to step down and step aside.

I am sick of being told by a friend of mine, "Not all rich people are bad". I'm not sure where she got the idea that I feel this way; the truth is-- I don't. "Bad"-- no. "Blind" on the other hand...

Of course this assessment is not true either. I have a few friends who I have sat with, who were born of prestigious families with extreme wealth, who are struggling to face their histories with courage and awareness. And they are some of the most strident activists for equality and justice I know. But they do not deny facing their own histories-- and that is what makes them "unblind", and makes us able to connect.

Personally, classism is forcing me away from my job. While I believe in the mission statement of my workplace, I do not have much of a voice there, and so feel my commitment lessening. I am not a player at the table of big stakes and decision-making. Rather, the place I feel most compelled to speak my voice is in UU circles, in my congregation, in my district. At work, I am the notetaker... at church I am the speaker--and the listener. Church is the place I feel most able to make a difference.

Well, I have a lot to think about...and very little time to do it this week. I will be at work, helping to lead the way with our biggest event of the year. I will be pouring my heart and soul into it, because I care about what the mission says. And I will be putting aside the thought of "what's next?" until after this weekend is over...

Channels of Peace

2009-06-15T22:15:00.003-04:00

One of these days I'll have the time and energy to devote myself more fully to these nagging thoughts...this sure is NOT the week to do it. But I've got this adult education/ covenant group type lived experience idea brewing in me... and a reading list that keeps growing...

Have barely processed the past few weeks, am in the middle of an intense work and family life week, and can't even begin to understand how anyone has time to worry about life beyond what's right in front of them. I just wish sometimes that I had the space to respond to the events of the world-- but I have no idea where to begin with things like abortion doctor killings and Iranian elections...not a lack of insight, more a lack of time.

These are conflicts beyond my scope of living. Am I apathetic or secluded if I do not respond? Or are the concerns within my grasp, the mundane lived embodiments, the only ones I have the power to bring my heart to?

It was all I could do to bring my heart and soul back to my own congregation, to ride the course of conflict in our midst this past Sunday, and hold my full attention on those who needed it. It was all we could do-- to bend, but not to break, to mend the rifts, and in the end to remain whole and intact. For me to remain a part of this--a part of this body trying to find a way to work together-- while tending my own children, the demands of my own life, seemed all that I could do.

If I am tangled up in mediocrity, it doesn't feel exactly that way. IF a community can move through conflict, and move deeper in love and spirit, and I can be a part of this, and through living fully my leadership roles, help in some small way to steer the boat--then that is enough. And if in doing this, I am responding to a call, then isn't this really what is needed?

I am finding these small calls at work lately as well, and with my friends and family. I wonder sometimes if that is all that I can do-- to be a channel of peace--and if responding to a call isn't the greatest power on earth...even if the only person I am affecting is the one sitting right beside me.

Play

2009-06-11T22:39:00.004-04:00

Off to Lake Champlain tomorrow to camp with friends and family...

Finally learning how to take a break, relax, and PLAY.

Home from worship committee, summer service planning... Am thinking of PLAY as a theme for summer...hmmm...will contemplate more while hiking, boating, eating smores...

Moving Ahead

2009-06-10T22:29:00.005-04:00

We sold our condo today...I think.... Oh, and I got my Americorps award extention--so now I HAVE to spend $2500 on classes within the next year or I lose it (one class at Union will probably cost me that much anyway!) Oh, and my husband picked up a lot more summer hours at work and sold a listing (besides ours), meaning finances are looking better for us than they have in say... ever?

And yet, of all these only the idea of taking a class in the city has me thrilled and excited. I've taken grad classes online before through Starr King, but I can't wait to get back in the classroom (and back in NY). At this point, I have absolutely NO excuses left for not applying to seminary in the fall (to start in 2010). Oh, except fear.

But after having dropped the whole future-thinking, house-hunting a while back, I am left with a sort of blank about what comes next geographically. Beacon seems most logical...but I've never made very good decisions based solely on logic. We thought about Rochester, the cost of living very enticing, and family reasons pulling at my sleeve to come home. The downside of this is that we don't have jobs there...at least that's the excuse I'm giving today. The truth is, after all is said and done, it's more than that: Somewhere along the way I fell in love with the Hudson River.

In any case, I'm happy to have sold the condo. The family that is buying it is exactly the family I wanted to buy it--a single mom and her young daughter. We don't even have to take down the princess castle decorations from the wall! (Princess castles Bah, we read Superman stories tonight!)

But I've got some big decisions to make, and a heart I can't ignore. Or fear.

Reservation Lessons

2009-06-09T21:29:00.010-04:00

This past weekend I went back to the city...this time to meet up with some people I hadn't seen in about seven years. Well, sort of. For J it had been about 5 years since we last met up-- I was eight months pregnant, then, crouching over a pool table in Maryland for old times sake.

On Saturday, there were six of us-- J, who I volunteered with for a year as a teacher on the Pine Ridge Reservation, and her mom; The one who came before me--now, a UCC minister's wife who lived in Pelham where I once taught SAT classes in the dusty church attic room; The one who came after me--from the rez to spanish harlem; and The one who was born and stayed, Nebraskan keeper of stories, now East coast visitor. On the train ride back to Pelham, I heard the stories of all those I'd known during my stay...

My own stay on Pine Ridge Reservation was brief. But even more than brief, I fear that it was too shallow. There was in that year a loneliness, a longing to connect, and never quite being able to move past something in me. It was as if, in my arrival, I could only absorb the sense of the place, could witness but not fully bridge beyond myself into the lives of the people.

There may have been something inherent in the impossible role volunteers were placed in. I remember the questions of another volunteer who questioned the intention of this work to begin with. Who were we to just pass through? Who were we-- these privileged kids--most of us white-skinned, all college grads--come as teachers to impart our knowledge, create "lasting" bonds, "make a difference"...and leave.

Perhaps that was closer to the reason I couldn't move deeper, though something in me wanted to try. Maybe it was difficult to move beyond that role, and that realization that I wasn't "staying". Perhaps then that was the wall I built, based on this... I had commitments already made, a fiance miles and miles away, a life outside waiting to be lived after my short stop, and more choices than I knew what to do with. I had somewhere else I could go--and did.

There was a time of discernment, a crossing around February of that year when I considered staying on for another year. There was a strong urging to move deeper. I wondered about what it might mean to move from careful observer and teacher, to a deeper level of commitment and solidarity.

Of course, I first needed to confront my own helplessness...

There was a casual conversation in my first month there that I learned my entire senior class were survivors, not only of the usual tragedies, of which there were many, but a particular most poignant one of a fellow classmate's suicide in their freshman year. (most students had been together since kindergarten, and those who made it all the way through would graduate together). I recall the immediate stomach-drop in me as a teacher being asked to "motivate" my students, of not knowing how to enter in to this collective pain.

Helpless. Powerless. And yet, paradoxically, more aware of my own birth-given power and privilege than ever before.

This sense of helplessness repeated again many times....returning very recently, as I learned that one person I had known as a friend had died from alcoholism.

Lives intersect, and then they part. And how can they not be changed? I'm not ever really sure what to do with all that privilege...all that freedom to walk away and choose my life. It's not really a burden I want; I guess it's one I'm learning from though. I think of the volunteer who dared to call things out, as they were, who stayed on for four more years and really learned to walk in solidarity and love with those around him. I wonder what would have happened if I had chosen that way. I can only wonder, if life has it's way, I may have another chance...in other places, in other ways.

These are just rough thoughts I've jotted down here... the whole topic of "Staying" is something in need of more exploring. I place "staying" in parentheses because there is a kind of staying that can last beyond geographical presence...there is an accompaniment and solidarity that actually calls us back to the worlds we left, to be presence and witness to the dis empowered in other ways. While another year on the rez may have moved me deeper into this, then, I think what really matters is how I move and work with this understanding-- right here, right now.

Setting Intention and Discernment

2009-06-08T23:46:00.005-04:00

"What is it that you know that you don't what to know?" That's the question I have been contemplating for the past month or so. A poignant question posed by spiritual leader and visitor to my place of empoyment, Adyashanti...So, I've been working on facing truth head on. That, and letting go of expectations, plans for the future, and goals. Rather than goals, I have been focusing on intentions. I suppose the difference is that a goal is focused on outcome, while an intention is focused on means. (i.e. I may have a "goal" to lose 10 pounds, while my intention is to focus on eating healthy...and we'll see where that will lead...)Non-attachment to outcomes isn't something I've been too comfortable with in the past, and still I find myself "fixating" despite some pretty good attempts to let go.

But focusing on creating intention (rather than on simply letting go) has had some pretty interesting results. Setting the intention to be open to possibility has led me to think outside the box, AND I've been a lot happier. I've stopped researching my future, stopped house hunting and city browsing, stopped worrying the hell out of my finances. And in the meantime I have finally begun to enjoy life...as if I were moving into the unknown and standing still at the same time.

But now, it looks like things might change, and I may have to shift my thinking once again. How do I remain preset to inner truth and the present moment, and still make decisions about the future? Right now we have an offer on our condo, which we have been trying to sell for the past few months. We shall see, if we end up selling the condo--well, then what? Is Beacon still the shining light it once was in my mind? Or has that light faded--like so many others that I have a tendency to mentally exaggerate and fixate upon as if their alternative futures held all the answers to my life's transformation... To trade in goals for intentions is, in a sense, to give up illusions. Illusions that life's answers lie without--rather than within.

So then, what lies ahead is not as important as what lies within. And facing the truth in me seems to be the key to all discernment of movement. There is no future, there is only now, and what is really speaking in me, and what is tugging at my sleeve. And yet, I must use that inner awareness to make decisions about my future. Hmmm...

The next two weeks are not good timing for discernment...they are overly hectic and stressful with too many responsibilities at work and at home, and have put me in survival mode. Not a good time to make decisions.

But the past few weekends that I have set an intention to be open to possibility have led me to new discovery, synchronistic connection, and hope. Is it this inner openness that has led me to the edge of water, or is it the piper who is bidding me drink? I do not know, still dreaming on the edge, still wondering how odd it is that I might need to decide.

Or maybe not, maybe the deal will fall through, and there will only be this present moment once again, this carrying on, this opening to life, this hopeful blooming, this floating along the deep dark sea.

LOVE New Hampshire

2009-06-03T20:59:00.003-04:00

...Yet another reason to LOVE New Hampshire this week...

May New York be soon to follow!

Miles To Go...

2009-06-02T21:29:00.004-04:00

Over the past few weeks, I have noticed a certain wane in energy about me on the church front. Our attention turns from the diligent work of boards and committees...and we find ourselves staring out those windows just a little bit more...The seats are emptier in the days of graduations and weddings, and vacation planning. I am experiencing such weariness myself-- a little less than my usual enthusiasm for leading discussions and worship...a little more loooking to the mountains and reunions with old friends. And others are experiencing it too. In the past few weeks, nearly every call I've made to elicit the help of others in church activities has resulted in the response, "I'm just too busy...it's just the time of year...".

UU's are busy people, and we need our rest. We become a 10-month church in so many places--with ministers taking off in June and July, and lay leaders filling in. And in those congregations which are already lay-led, the summer is a time to take it even easier, lest we end up with burnt out leaders. In my half-and-half congregation, our summer services are more intimate; beyond lay-led services, events consist of picnics and pool parties, and that's about it. Which is not to say there is no power in those. Last summer's services were great--really good times for reflection and spiritual deepening. And the social events are a time of celebrating community.

And yet, this is not all there is. Because much as all of us privileged enough to take a vacation would like to believe that the world stops turning for our travels, the truth is that in summer-- the world still needs us. Individuals are still searching, sometimes even moreso when the world gets hotter. It was the dog days of a heat wave in a Rochester summer when I first stumbled upon my own redeeming UU small group experience. It only takes a few gathered together to create a church-- a place of personal salvation, a balm for the weariness of the soul-- but it takes those few to be fully present.

We are still needed--not only by individuals in search of church, but by a world in need of change. We cannot rest yet, I am reminded, by the news at my doorstep and status updates from essential causes flickering across my Facebook page. One of these is central to my mind right now, as New York State hovers on the brink of marriage equality. To turn the tide, each voice is essential. This Sunday, there are many who will march for that equality throughout our state, in places like Queens and New Paltz. These are the places where our churches are needed-- on the phone with our senators, on the streets to stand on the side of love, and in our pews to embrace the stranger who sits beside.

We're All We've Got

2009-06-01T22:32:00.006-04:00

This past Saturday, I attended the 10th Annual UU Metro NY District Anti-Racism and Diversity Conclave at Community Church in Manhattan. This year's theme was focused on environmental justice, so I was especially compelled to attend. A couple years ago, I was a member of the UU Ministry for Earth committee to create a National Conference on this same theme. Unfortunately, this event did not actualize for financial/budget reasons. So, I was encouraged that my own district was able to focus on this in what was for me a very meaningful and inspiring event.

As an avid note taker, I took away many resources--book titles, web sites, or statistics jotted down for later reference. And I also took away ideas which I plan to implement in the coming year-- ideas to bring attention and solidarity with migrant workers in Immokalee to my congregation's annual Earth Dinner on Labor Day; ideas to really get that community garden my social action committee has discussed into action; ideas for intergenerational services on water rights, privilege and responsibility...

But even more than these, what I take away is deeper recognition of my self. It is the realization of the questions that stir and move me beneath the restless tumble of the day to day. Most of these questions revolve around mission. See, while I was center of the city, my own hilltop congregation was celebrating the goundbreaking of our new church. Throughout the day, then, I pondered -- How can we be truly connected if we are geographically secluded? And is the question to ask--What are we to build? Or is it-- Who are we to serve?

Maybe UUA Moderator, Gini Courter, had the answer, when she described in her sermon the most isolated place on Earth-- Hawaii... And if the answer for the people she visited in Hawaii on how they have learned to welcome such diversity was "Well, we're all we've got" then perhaps that is the answer for my church too: to welcome all those who enter our doors with unconditional hospitality. Who are those guests and strangers? They may be visitors in search of a church...or maybe they are families temporarily homeless, in need of a bed, a warm meal, a home. For this is another dream we have considered with our new building...

I wonder also then if this is really what diversity is: Learning to create a home together on the only earth we've got. It is awareness of our own histories, but in becoming aware, it is not to remain stuck in them, but to honor them and clear the path for the core of our being to emerge... it is then to move beyond to a place of being fully present to another in his/her own history, so that we can help him/her to realize his/her core as well. And there in that place of full presence, there is deep and transformative connection. Well, that is not easy work.. what I am speaking of here is a model for the training I am currently in the process of called "Be Present", founded by Lily Allen. It is not a process for the timid of heart, and I was skeptical at first, too. But Lily is an incredible teacher, and I have had some pretty intense experiences of confronting my own history with race, class, gender--and doing it in a diverse community with others--each of us with our own unique stories opening to that essential self. At the last training I attended, I was the last to speak, and all that my soul wanted to speak was "We are in this together".

Perhaps ironically, it was that community's visioning the future weekend that I missed as well while in the city for the conclave. But I am still a searcher, moving with intent, but holding back from concrete goal. My day in the city held quiet synchronicities, and small connections that assured me I had chosen correctly. Church, Community, Family, Friends will be there when I return.

Mission Statement: My Dream for UUism

2009-05-23T22:37:00.007-04:00

Over the past couple months, I have fiddled with writing a personal mission statement. In light of these efforts, I have long felt that this blog needed a mission statement before I could truly revive it. I have felt this strong need to pinpoint my own purpose within Unitarian Universalism. For while the faith itself means so much to me, and I am unable to abandon it, I am confronted again and again with issues of race, class, age, and culture which compel me to work for change. I have faced these same issues within other organizations, as well, and yet it is within church communities where I feel most strongly the need and the ability to have an impact.

And still, I am uncertain of how to make real headway. I have heard so much talk in the larger UU world of anti-racism efforts and multiculturalism, and yet my own personal experiences (across congregations) are within the framework of that mostly-all-white suburban church on the hill. While many are engaged in social causes, there is still an uncrossed chasm, and either lives do not fully connect, or church culture does not truly change. Issues within my own background make this particularly frustrating...and odd match of personal passion and setting. (Perhaps I am speaking vaguely here, in my attempt to get at the heart of the matter, or draw a conclusion....more specifics will have to follow later...)

Of all this, I am still learning...doing my own anti-racism and community-builiding work in non-UU settings, learning from both good and bad experiences outside of the church, and hoping to bring something back. I am also hoping to connect with others who may share my feelings and mission, in the hopes to help with efforts to make this amazing faith relevant and transformative to the world...in other words, to move our place from the all-seeing, untouchable hilltop...to the main street intersections of ongoing personal and social transformation. This is an ongoing process of personal learning and envisioning. I have touched on some of these issues in past posts, and I hope to concentrate more fully in the future, using this blog as avenue for exploration.

And now to these ends, I share my dream:

I have a dream: that we are moved and transformed, from the limitations of exclusivity and privilege-- to an unveiling of the heart and mind which takes us beyond ourselves and into the world. I dream that we are not just the church that speaks for equality, justice, and diversity, but also the one that lives it in our worship, in our relations, and in our service to others. I dream of a church that has travelled many roads-- from the top of the hill, to the front steps of the neighbor's home, and into the city intersections, amidst the traffic of human lives. And it is there--at these intersections-- that I dream our lives connect, as we are transformed in learning to live in communion with all people and with the earth.

The Religion of Kindness

2009-05-23T22:21:00.006-04:00

Poem and Presentation shared with the UU Congregation of Rock Tavern on February 15, 2009

Kindness
By Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.

The Religion of Kindness
by Terri Dennehy Pahucki

The line that ran out the funeral home door… unending, it seemed, lined with the faces of people I knew and love, some who’d traveled miles to be there, some who I hadn’t seen childhood, and many that I didn’t even recognize—but who had known and loved my father.

That line of people at my father’s wake is the image that comes to mind whenever I hear the poem “Kindness” by Naomi Shihab Nye. “Before you know what kindness really is, you must lose things” she says. And in my experience, it was kindness that held me through the worst time in my life.

It is because of that line of people that I offer you this service today—and because of an assignment I received three years ago. As part of a covenant group called Soul Matters at the First Unitarian Church of Rochester, we were asked to “think of a time when kindness saved you.” Since that time of reflecting and sharing our stories in small groups, I have returned to thoughts of kindness every February around Valentine’s Day.

Maybe I hadn’t thought of kindness as saving me before… Maybe I had thought of kindness as something trite or cute—nice things to do for people, a common feature of Hallmark cards or maybe the bumper sticker I saw recently-- “Practice Random Acts of Kindness”. Nice message..

And yet, experiencing kindness in a time of sorrow, put it in another light for me personally. During that time, Kindness did more than “get me through”—it restored my spirit and showed me I was not alone. It moved me forward from private despair to the body of shared humanity

--
The author Kate Braestrup, in the book Here if You Need Me tells a similar story of how those acts of kindness—not random, but deliberate--saved her. While in her 30’s, her husband Drew, a state trooper was killed in the car crash. Not 40 minutes after she has heard the news of her husband’s death—she is sitting with her friend Monica when the doorbell rings. Monica rises to answer it, only to be confronted with a man in a black suit, holding a bible in one hand, and a pamphlet in the other-- “Have you heard the Good News?” he says. Monica quickly slams the door in her face.

But moments after that, the doorbell rings again, and it is her neighbor—holding a plate of brownies just hot from the oven. “I just heard”, she says.

As Kate tells the story:

That pan of brownies was, it later turned out, the leading edge of a tsunami of food that came to my children and me, a wave that did not recede for many months after Drew’s death. I didn’t know that my family and I would be fed three meals a day for weeks and weeks. I did not anticipate that neighborhood men would come to drywall the playroom, build bookshelves, mow the lawn, get the oil changed in my car. I did not know that my house would be cleaned and the laundry done, that I would have embraces and listening ears, that I would not be abandoned to do the labor of mourning alone. All I knew was that my neighbor was standing on the front stoop with her brownies and her tears: she was the Good News.
___

Kate Braestrup’s story reminds me not only that acts of kindness can save our lives, but that it is exactly this which is the core of all religion—that kindness really is “the Good News”.

The Dahli Lama has been quoted on more than one occasion as saying—“My religion is kindness”. But Buddhism does not have a monopoly on kindness. There is also the command among Muslims to offer radical hospitality to the stranger, and among Christians to “love your neighbor as yourself.” In fact, kindness may just be the core thread which connects ALL of the major world religions.

Often we speak of this common thread as one of universal love and compassion for all beings. In this light, tiny acts of kindness are the demonstration of that love. And while we may use monumental words like everlasting and eternal to describe the grand feeling of love—to describe kindness is to focus on the details-- speaking only of moments, of particulars that stand out in our memories and in our minds.

And yet--perhaps it is that focus on the moment which makes kindness so difficult to maintain on a daily basis. Death and tragedy might inspire immediate responses of kindness, but what about the day to day? I know that I can be unkind every day-- hurrying through phone calls with people I love rather than listening from the heart—simply because I am impatient and just don’t have the time. And the thoughts I harbor for the driver who just cut me off on my way to work are anything BUT kind.

I think that we can all probably relate to one degree or another—and I don’t think that we are bad people, so why do we forget?

In struggling with this question, I have found myself looking to the children. If there is anything I know about my own children, it is that no matter how rambunctious, unruly, and even vicious they can be—when there is an emotional need, they are truly two of the kindest people I know. In fact, studies with children as young as 18 months have suggested that kindness may be a fundamental part of our human nature.

In one 2006 study, for instance, psychology researcher Felix Warneken performed a series of ordinary tasks in front of 18 month old toddlers, such as hanging towels with clothespins or stacking books. Sometimes he pretended to struggle with the tasks, and sometimes he deliberately messed up and dropped items on the floor.

What Warneken found was that over and over, whether he dropped clothespins or knocked over his books, each one of the 24 toddlers offered him help—but ONLY if he appeared by his facial expression to need it. One video shows how a baby glanced back and forth between Warneken’s face and the dropped clothespin before quickly crawling over, grabbing the object, and handing it to him.

Also interesting—the toddlers did NOT respond in this way if Warneken threw the pin or book to the floor. In no instance did Warneken offer the babies any praise or thanks, so as not to taint the research.

Warneken attributes the results of his study to toddler’s cognitive ability to understand people’s goals and a pro-social motivation to be part of a community. Both of these characteristics may be even more fully present in adults. And yet, I wonder if children might still possess an advantage--- namely, the ability to be fully present.

From Warneken’s example, kindness involves both seeing and responding to a human need. And it begins by simply taking the time to notice that that need exists.

Too often, we are preoccupied with a thousand concerns, we are overburdened and have little time to take to notice the nuances of human need. In order to be truly kind, we must also be attentive and aware of the present moment. We must take the time to recognize the human in all the people we encounter—whether it is the toll booth ticketer, or our own families. Too often we are unkind, simply because we have not taken the time to look another person in the eye and to see the human being on the other side.

LovingKindness Meditation

I have faced this own dilemma in my own life, moving back and forth between states of ordinary caring for others—and states of obliviousness to the needs around me. Last summer, I received a gift that has proven immensely valuable in helping me to deepen kindness as a spiritual practice. Through my work at the Garrison Institute retreat center, I have had the privilege to learn and practice loving kindness meditation from renowned Buddhist teacher Sharon Salzberg.

Sharon’s profound meditation makes kindness a spiritual practice of concentration, awareness, and opening of the heart, and it is one I would like to share with you today:

I invite you to close your eyes, and to begin to direct these words toward yourself.
May I be free from harm.
May I be happy.
May I be well
May I be at ease.

Repeat these phrases over and over to yourself.

I now invite you to picture someone close to, someone who you care deeply about
And so you repeat the metta phrases:
May you be free from harm.
May you be happy.
May you be well
May you be at ease
_________________________________________________

The third level of metta practice is to direct loving-kindness towards a neutral person. It may be somewhat difficult to find someone for whom you have not formed an instant liking or disliking. It is also helpful to choose someone you tend to see occasionally, since that will bring them and your changing feelings for them, into clearer focus.

And you direct the metta phrases towards this person.
May…you be free from harm.
May…you be happy.
May…you be well.
May…you be at ease.

Again repeating the phrases over and over.

I now invite you to open your eyes—I am going to invite a few people from our own congregation to speak, and I am going to ask everyone here to offer that person lovingkindness as they speak.

Be kind to one another, hold in your gaze the human vulnerability of each person you encounter, be gentle. Kindness saves us, kindness transforms us—it is a spiritual practice of seeing one another and moving into our fullest humanness, our fullest aliveness.

That it Will be Done

2009-05-12T23:09:00.003-04:00

In preparation for Sunday's service on Meditation, I recalled the following poem from Native American poet, Joy Harjo. I have always been intrigued by these questions of cultural diversity and spiritual convergence... of the power of various perspectives to evoke a universal contemplative experience. It is not all an easy flow. I have witnessed and experienced quite a bit of stumbling, rubbing, and bruising around the edges of cultural difference. Vulnerability, coupled with a lack of awareness and insensitivity, have created wounds. It is not with a flippant heart that I speak of my own year of living on a reservation; nor do I speak with authority, but only with the lessons learned from hindsight.

One of the reasons I have felt compelled to write lately is in relation to those lessons-- and to a story I have on the tip of my tongue which I may be called upon to share in an unlikely venue. It is the story of councils and empty chairs...I'm not sure which form the story will take. I started it as a novella over ten years ago; but time has a way with words...

In any case, I may begin again to tell part of the story this weekend as part of the panel on Meditation (or contemplative practice, which is the broader category under which I place these experiences...).

At the heart there is a common longing, and maybe someday a universal peace.

Eagle Poem

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can't see, can't hear
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circles in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

~ Joy Harjo ~

From Winter Dens

2009-05-12T22:50:00.004-04:00

After a nearly 6 month blogging sabbatical, I may be ready to begin again. Not that I have figured out what this blog is about, or that I have suddenly been blessed with "extra" time. My hibernation came as the natural result of moving into the world of working fulltime. And it is from that same world that I feel compelled to break back out of my silent den. After months and months of sleeping, the desire comes to stumble back into the world-- a little flabby and growling, a little clumsy --all the while hungering for something more.

This seems the perfect night to begin: my diary drowned in the bathtub tonight courtesy of a 2 year old's experiments with water. Not that it was much of a diary...more a record of "To Do" lists and "Have Dones". The truth is, without regular discipline, I only scratch the surface. So perhaps it is discipline that is the nourishment sought. And writing, ah-- the honey of my desire.

There is meaning to be scratched, and questions to be lived. That's what I am doing here-- belly, bear claws and all.

Where I've been: UU Chalice Lighters

2008-12-08T22:52:00.006-05:00

I have spent the past few months visiting congregations throughout the Metro NY district as a Chalice Lighter Ambassador to raise funds for a new building. As coordinator of the project, I've also been on the receiving end of stories-- the stories of others' journeys and discoveries. With unexpected joy and suprising revelation, I have found more treasures than were known to exist.

I can no longer work under the assumption that all UU congregations are alike...nor can I live under the presumption that we are disconnected. A common thread runs through us, binds us, connects us. And while each pulls at heartstrings a little bit differently-- I find life doing something a little more than I feel prepared to handle.

This past weekend's visit shattered presumptions previously held; maybe it wasn't the most noteworthy of all the congregations I've visited, but something left an impression...but it brought me face to face to my own biases about UUism, and straight into the mirror of my own calling to ministry. It was like holding a seed to a plant that had not quite blossomed-- but, lo and behold, these were heirloom seeds, and the garden that would grow, was most definitely planted at an intersection--a ruined place, we can only enrich with our loving-- a place that I can only call home.

I have one more Chalice Lighter visit to make, and if I have the courage to write it, I hope to chronicle this complete journey-- along with a new one accompanying it...

Here is the truth: a new church is birthing. Perhaps it is a bit of a living room church-- or maybe more likely a church born of corners and intersections... it's the places we meet, and the places our lives are transformed. There is a meaning to this blog after all-- a meaning I have barely had the courage to face, and not yet had the boldness to live. But every now and then life slaps you in the face with a little bit of grace--

and you can choose to run-- or if you dare to live into it-- leaning, leaning, leaning toward the light.

Until January...

2008-11-06T21:22:00.002-05:00

Blog Hiatus continues as I am re-adjusting my life to new circumstances.

January 20th marks the end of 6 months at my current job.

And it marks a new beginning for our nation.

My sister has already reserved a hotel room... and I've put in the request for a week's vacation...

The last time I took my kids to DC in January was two years ago. I wore my two-month old baby, while my best friend carried my two year old on her shoulders. We were there to march for an end to the conflict in Iraq. My children may have been too young then to understand.

But my daughter still talks about that train ride. She wants to go back-- and go back we will, three generations of my family, to march not against fear but toward hope and a new beginning.

Maybe the real march is what we do here every day, in the living and working and creating and the working for justice at the ground level. Maybe it is the daily sacrifices that we willingly give in pursuit of a greater good. And maybe this is the change I am seeking-- not only a change of policy, but a change of worldview. A change that moves us toward wholeness, toward fuller interdependent life.

But for now, I rest. To take those baby steps of "people, not projects"... to find my way back to center.

Until January.

Tired hope..or quiet fire?

2008-09-23T21:56:00.004-04:00

I've been receiving a lot of anti-Palin e-mails lately. Eve Ensler, Gloria Steinem, and just ordinary women have had some great things to say. Truthfully, though, I've kind of shrugged at the e-mails...most of them I'd read already in my own online search for political news, and the anger I felt rise in me toward Palin has already ridden its course. I was all ready to dismiss her and get back to the real fight being fought in this election-- a fight I believe is for the voice of the people, for the voices of all people--of different races, classes, and economic statuses to be heard.

But the feeling I got this morning when reading about the practice in the town of Wasilla of charging rape victims for exams, and of Palin's "oversight" of this (While, she wasn't the one directly behind the practice, I still hold her somewhat responsible. However (a)-- if she didn't know, she wasn't fully on top of things, and (b) if she did-- then I am not angry. I'm sickened.)

And I'm tired. I'm tired because I really wanted to take September off, to turn inward. But I just can't sit still...anger and nausea have turned in me, and somewhere there's hope too... Yes, I want to get back to the hope, but it's a tired kind of hope now, and I'm not sure how to describe it.

Maybe if I just got closer to what I'm feeling...

I got the feeling today that I keep trying to light this fire, and then to walk away--hoping the flame would spread and burn. But everytime I walked away, the flame would die. It would only sustain itself as long as I was there to fan it. And I asked-- but is that really leadership?

I got the feeling last friday night when I heard one of our own incredible ministers speak that I was called. And that--once again-- UUism is really the place that I belong--the place that has people such as this who speak with an honesty and wisdom that is birthed in a story and shared from the heart. And I knew that the role of a charismatic leader is not to stand in the spotlight and shine, but to awaken the spark that exists within each and every one of us.

But then I got the feeling on Sunday morning that the flame is dying again. That it is a pale passionless whisper of its former self. And I asked myself-- but what is church anyway if we are standing outside the fire? (Don't ask, but I asked this question once before in my life, and the next day a church I'd not yet attended burned down, and I'm no poltergeist, but the metaphors of my life do have a strange way of manifesting... )

Well until Sunday afternoon... Common fire, and lots of fire signs gathered to dream and vision, and I was the skeptic who wanted to tone down the volume. Over and over again I have been lauded for my enthusiasm, but I was tired of being the cheerleader, and so I found myself in the passenger seat,-- and for once, the driver relaxed and was fine to just go along for the ride.

Perhaps the most important feeling of all that lurks is a quiet fire. It is the quiet devotion that rages against all the pain and despair and ugliness of this world. It is the kind of fire that is steady and never fades.

My past couple weeks at work have been devoted to our Women's Wellness Projects, to supporting the necessary work of healing victims of violence. And so this morning's news about the domestic violence rates in Alaska and the practice of charging rape victims for their own tests in Wasilla was the push that got me angry and ready for work. This time when I hopped in my car and headed off, I felt charged to fight back through whatever simple, mundane tasks I might take on throughout the workday.

But mostly, I felt a real sense of honoring for the real feminists of the world-- the people whose spiritual and emotional wellbeing we are working to support--namely, the shelter workers and staff. They are tremendous people who take on the stories and the pain of the people they encounter in the day to day, and often hold them too close within. But together, we might move toward healing.

Tired hope or quiet fire? I'm not quite sure, but either way...it rages on despite all those ugly attempts to quell it.

Back to Blogging...and Testifying

2008-09-11T22:25:00.014-04:00

I am trying my best not to get pulled in to this really sick "disgust-obsession" thing I'm having with Sarah Palin. I had to listen to some Ani DiFranco on my way to work to get out all my anger...one things for sure-- Sarah really revs up the competitive beast in me.

If it were only just the issues!...But, no, it's the archetype. I have been on all sides of the spectrum, and really what it comes down to is that I will be damned if she becomes the poster child of the new feminist.

So, rather than focus on some analytical digression that will take me off into tangents more emotionally puzzling than I'm eager to deal with right now...

I'll stick to the kind of feminists I can believe in:

And I'd love to include some contemporary pics-- but they'd all be of my friends, none of whom has gotten her face on a poster (YET!). But I am proud to walk among women who are balancing babies on their hips while working toward change.

We are the ones who nurse one-week olds while typing theology papers. Who change diapers on the capital steps during peace marches. Who run social action meetings with toddlers on their lap. Who chase little ones through community gardens...and who balance their lives and the lives of their children-- as community organizers in pursuit of a better world.

I am one of those women, but I am not alone.

And-- because I am of a woman of privilege in this society-- (no silver spoon in the birthing room, but marked by the color of my skin...)

I am called to speak out as a feminist for the women who can't...

Like the one I saw in a New Orleans newsflash three years ago wondering if her baby on a respirator would have enough oxygen to outlast the floods..

Or the sweatshop laborers with hungry mouths to feed who never had the chance to choose. No one asked them if they could handle the difficult job.

We really do lose sight of the big picture, don't we? We really do lose sight of the least among us, caught up in our mommy wars, our bitter cat fights, and our sparkly ivory privilege.

Well, I refuse to let that be the final say. I am one white woman at least, who refuses to let the polls dictate what she represents-- and will be damned if she lets some hockey mom who's oppressed native peoples in her own state, disregarded the wisdom of scientists, and mocked the ONLY thing about politics that has ever created change in America

represent her.

On Blogging Hiatus...

2008-08-27T22:03:00.002-04:00

Until September 8th.... Unless I have time earlier and just HAVE to write!

Spirituality at Work

2008-08-15T07:13:00.004-04:00

I'm leaving work early today. I'll be working the weekend, so my boss felt that I should have some time to myself and with my family beforehand. I will also be taking next Friday off (per her suggestion). Work this weekend and through next Thursday means some assistance to the Education project director, but mostly attending as a participant in a contemplative retreat for educators. I am looking forward to this training in mindfulness, loving kindness meditation, and emotional awareness-- and wonder only how it is that I missed out on this training as a former educator!

In all my five years as an educator, no one was ever concerned that I worked too much, or that I might burn out. Inevitably, teacher burnout occurs. Perhaps, this also happens to UU volunteers-- we often have volunteers who "take a summer off", or need to leave the congregation for a time because they just worked too hard, and got spent.

But working in the contemplative world I am finding the benefits go far and beyond health and dental. Weekly meditation, a chance to sit in on retreats, silence before meetings, all staff contemplative days, and an annual overnight retreat are just some of the benefits that are part of my job. Not to mention the great food and view of the Hudson.

Of course, if these things were not a part of my job, it would seem antithetical to our mission as a retreat center- exporing the intersection of contemplation and activism in the world. But it seems there are plenty of places (i.e. hospitals and schools) that are focused on the well-being of the students, patients, etc. but pay too little attention to the needs of staff (i.e. nurses, teachers).

I don't know about churches, as I've only participated as a volunteer. Do we pay enough attention to the spiritual needs of our ministers, staff, and volunteers? It would seem that given our mission as UU's to "Nurture the Spirit.", that this would be an absolute necessity. Especially if we wish to bring our whole selves to the healing of the world.

In and Out of UUism

2008-08-13T21:50:00.011-04:00

Lately, I have wondered if my connection to a larger UU identity is waning. To begin with, I'm not so sure what a UU identity is. It is a quality defined by more than just a list of principles; it seems to be something tied up in UU culture. When I first joined UUism, I identified this primarily with the characteristics of my first large congregation. But every large congregation has sub-cultures...so really, what I called UUism was something reflected in my relationships with the ministers and with other friends I made through small groups. I identified UUism with the love and connection we shared. Now, there is a whole new set of associations that I place upon UUism that have come to me through involvement in my second congregation, UUCRT, and through engagement with the larger UU world, via online classes, blogs and publications. There are pieces of this UU culture that resonate with me-- the passion for justice and the search for meaning, primarily-- but there are other pieces that do not--specifically a feeling of homogeneity in race and class.

Right now, I am not all that concerned about "fitting in" to UUism or not. Right now, my congregation is my key community, but I have begun to build other communities. At a recent intentional community meeting, a group of people of diverse ethnicity and religion, but common spiritual center and values asked the question: But what do you think about this-- how we all have such different backgrounds and practices, but are looking to share this common spiritual core? What will it mean for us to join together in some common ritual or practice of living?

A new friend of mine smiled and said he found it to be "delicious!" I couldn't help but think to myself-- "Oh, you mean like UUism?" But that wasn't exactly it, either. Because those in that room were both more alike me and more un-alike me than any UU crowd I've been a part of. More like me in shared values and vision. But more racially and ethnically mixed than any UU congregational group I've been a part of. UU's have talked for a long time about opening up to people of color and younger people and people of various economic brackets, but the truth is-- we are still largely a homogeneous group.

I guess what I am wondering is if what I am leaning toward in my life is UUism PLUS. I have never liked the whiteness of our congregations, and that takes me out. I have never liked the upperclassness of our congregations, and that takes me out.

But what I do like--shared values and spiritual core--I am finding both within AND with-out of UU ciricles. The entire concept of diversity in belief and spiritual practice and shared community and values is arising in many pockets all around us. The values of UUism are not just the values of a particular church. They are the values that are sprouting everywhere-- and they are going to have a significant impact upon our future.

I believe our denomination has a lot to offer the world. But I also believe that other communities have much to offer UUism-- especially ones that truly embrace diversity in race and class.

And I believe that my own journey will continue to travel and wind in and out of these various communities.

Choices

2008-08-13T07:12:00.003-04:00

Little one slept on momma most the night last night. She woke up screaming and nothing would comfort her but this. She didn't have a temperature. SHe just wanted mommy.

Meanwhile, my oldest had a tough time with bedtime, too. "Why does daddy work so late?" she cries. It's not that she doesn't get to see daddy very much; he picks the girls up from daycare at 1:00 every day and spends most of the afternoon with them. And he has them all day on Friday, as well. Meanwhile, the girls are all mine on Saturdays-- when he's off to the office for real estate (what's left of it) and the week's lesson planning for classes. Morning and week nights, he teaches.

Actually, my oldest is torn. "I want to stay late at daycare like the other kids." But as we talk more, she tells me what she really wants is the whole family together.

That doesn't happen much anymore. It's tough. We are lucky though--because we like the work we do. Because we are making enough to pay our bills (doubtful we will have any extra for a LONG time, still...but at least we're getting out of debt). Because we are moving closer to dreams that will allow us more time to live into the life we dream of, including more time with one another.

But it's still hard, and I am still torn apart by these choices.