30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 20

Writer's block again.

I really enjoyed my dinner tonight. Green beans, green peppers, mushrooms, onions, garlic and slivered almonds sauteed together and served over rice with Rosarita seasoned black beans and pot roast (leftovers, don't ask). But is that beauty?

I helped my daughter make a jellyfish out of paper plates and yarn. That was actually a great couple of hours. We found this amazing Paper Plate Crafts book at the library and the ideas in the book are right up my alley: cheap, relatively easy, and ideal for the "artistically challenged".

When it came time to paint the jellyfish, I had her pour a little bit of tempera paint on a plate, being careful not to let the different colors touch. Of course, the first thing she wanted to do was mix it up. I hesitated, not because I am anal about colors mixing, but because I know she can be. I went ahead and let her mix the colors, hoping she wouldn't mind the mess that would come of it.

She loved the unique shade she had created, so all was well. Then she decided to do another part of the jellyfish in a different style--stripes of vivid, separated primary colors. Now I was really sweating. I could see the blue running into the yellow before she noticed it. I held my breath and didn't say anything...

...and then it happened. The colors mixed as she was painting...

...and she was delighted!

She totally rolled with it. And I realized something. She wasn't painting a jellyfish. Not really. She wasn't going for some end result that she had planned in advance. She was simply painting for the feel of it. She loved feeling the paint under her brush, coating every varied surface of the paper plate. She loved watching the colors change before her eyes. She loved feeling that "exactly right" amount of resistance as she stroked with her brush.

It was all about the process, not the product.

Some days, it's about the product. I need to pay more attention to the cues in order to know which is which.

When it comes to projects like this, I am all about the finished product; and, not being very artistic myself, I am often totally frustrated and disappointed in what I come up with. It seldom matches the blueprint in my mind.

But my six year old beautifully reminded me today to be present in the process. The final product will carry within itself the story of successes, failures and lessons that the process brought about.

Are you a process person, or a product person?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 14

The wallpaper shown above is called "Girlfriends" (available at http://www.scenicreflections.com/media/264457/GIRLFRIENDS_Wallpaper/). I love this picture. I think it shows how girlfriends never grow old, how we lean on each other as we look at life around us, and how we rely on each other's perspective to color the scene before us.

I love my girlfriends. They are beautiful and all very unique. I have been appreciating them so much more lately. Tonight I relied on my girlfriends to help me out of a Mommy Guilt trap.

You see, this afternoon I was planning on writing an entirely different post. I was playing in the snow with my kids after school--and we had an unbelievable (and long overdue) wonderful time together! We made a snow turtle, we threw snowballs at each other, we were carefree. Part of why I was able to enjoy this time was because one of my girlfriends offered to take my kids for the evening so I could go to Zumba. I was going to write about how the afternoon was all the more precious and beautiful because I knew I would have time to myself later and I recognized how short my time with my young kids really is.

But...then came time to go inside. Let's just say it was a very different scene trying to get my kids safely up the stairs and into the house. They must have gotten tired, because they were completely punch-drunk. Long story short, I ended up losing sight of the precious time I had with them and losing my temper completely. It wasn't pretty. Later, of course, I felt like the last woman on earth who should be allowed to be raising children. I felt like scum for yelling at my kids, especially my daughter.

So naturally I cried to my girlfriends. They calmed me a bit, they shared their own horror stories, they gave me perspective. And in their company, the things that were eating me up inside suddenly didn't feel so toxic. I felt hope.

Thank you, my lovely friends. The ones who received my pain tonight, and others who have been there on countless other occasions to hold me through the most trying of times. You know who you are. I love you and am so grateful for you.

You are beautiful.

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 12

Everything as it should be.

How does that phrase make you feel? Personally, I feel at peace. Some of you might feel bored, but this is for the people who read that and breathe a deep sigh of relief.

Today I woke up to more snow than I have seen so far this winter--and that's not saying much. This and last winter have been incredibly mild for the Chicagoland area. I haven't complained. It was wonderful to take my kids to a park after school in January because it was 60 degrees! It felt so healthy and life-giving. No, I didn't complain and I won't if it happens again.

BUT...this weekend my husband and I took our kids sledding, and today I tromped through several inches of snow and slush to and from (and to and from, over and over again) schools and work.

I hated it (well the sledding was fun, but the slogging and scraping is not). But because I am growing used to the idea of seeing beauty in unexpected places, that phrase popped into my head: "Everything as it should be."

It should be cold and nasty in Chicago in the winter, for heaven's sake! I don't like it, but there is something beautiful and right about kids bundling up to go sledding in February rather than picnicking in the park.

I say this because I grew up in Colorado. For readers who grew up in places like California and Saudi Arabia, "winter" means something totally different.

So take the general idea and apply it whatever you want. Where in your life can you see the beauty of "the natural order of things"? Where have things been off lately? Do you embrace sameness or change--or both equally?!

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 9

Two moments of beauty today. And believe me, I need to dwell on them tonight.

Number 1: I took my daughter to the pet store and we watched all kinds of critters frolicking around (oh the things you can come up with on a freezing day in the city). I found myself really drawn to the textures on the animals' coats. There was this amazing dalmatian I couldn't stop looking at--aren't the patterns and contrasts on some animals just amazing?!

I also thoroughly enjoyed watching animals being groomed, losing what seemed to be pounds of matted, dirty hair and emerging so clean and light. Watching hair get shorn off relaxes me, what can I say.

Number 2: My daughter later had an old friend over for a play date. At six years old, an "old friend" means someone she hadn't seen since the end of kindergarten, last May. It was so beautiful watching her get all excited, then become almost painfully shy upon actually seeing her friend face to face, then lose all inhibitions and romp around with this girl like they were separated at birth. They really are two of a kind. It did my heart good to see my daughter interacting with another child in a way that clearly made her happy. And the changing moods and worlds of a young child are so fascinating to watch unfold.

So, puppies and kids being who they are. These things delighted me today. What delighted you today?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty-Day 5

It was so easy to see beauty today: in the rain, in my students, in the book I'm reading--everywhere. So I decided to challenge myself and look for beauty in places where I usually only see brokenness. I decided to look for beauty during my time with my kids after school. Sadly, our afternoons together are usually marked by stress, fighting, and struggle rather than joy and beauty. But today I made an effort to see good in my kids and in myself as we interacted.

And I found beauty in something that I tried today but have never been very good at: letting go. I was supposed to take my kids to their after-school park district activities today, but I didn't feel like battling my way through city traffic to get there late and leave early to rush to the other kid's site...so I blew it all off. I brought my kids home instead and made a plan that involved some early rounds of basketball (before the neighbors downstairs got home), some play-doh, and generous snacks. And it worked! My kids were delightful. I wasn't tense as my son did layups on the hardwood floor; I didn't once regret not taking them out to their sports activities; and I realized that not following the original schedule might actually serve us better at times. My kids are active and need activities, especially in the winter, but they also need the routine of coming home and being free to be themselves in a safe space.

I'm not saying I didn't experience any stress today, and this evening was certainly a test of my patience, but this afternoon was a lesson in learning to let go of my need to do everything I had planned to do and put the kids' "needs" first always. Today I tried to merge my needs with my kids' needs, and we made it work beautifully.

When was the last time you changed your plans or adjusted your schedule on a whim? How'd it go?

30 Days of Redefining Beauty: Day 1

Two recent thoughts have inspired this new project. One occurred yesterday as I was thinking about my status report on Facebook. I was going to report that I had a nice day, but I stopped myself because, to be perfectly honest, I can get more attention if I write about my troubles. I thought, how sad that I prefer to define myself as a victim, dragging others into my darkness just so I will be pursued. Where did I get the idea that beauty was not as interesting as pain?

The second was gifted to me during a session of spiritual direction that I attended today. This particular spiritual director, who is also a trusted friend, helped me see that the ways I have traditionally tried to care for myself and "rest" often have the opposite effect, leaving me drained and far from refreshed. Instead of seeking "rest", I might be better off asking "What will lead me closer to wholeness?" After all, there are activities that may sound exhausting beforehand but may actually fulfill and revive my soul once I dive in.

After contemplating my life recently and unpacking these two thought experiences that occurred within a day of each other, I have come to the conclusion that I need a new way of looking at my life and living in it. I'm tired of seeking beauty in places that look promising but turn out to be traps. And I'm tired of wallowing in the negative all for the sake of attention and affirmation.

So, to the project: For the next thirty days, I will write one post per day in which I describe something beautiful about my day. My hope is that I will set myself on the road to optimism by forcing myself to find beauty in unexpected places--and to take it in as a gift more valuable than mere drama.

I hope you will join me. Please feel free to add your beautiful moments in the Comments box each day.

TODAY: I volunteered in my daughter's first grade classroom for an hour this morning. I have not been looking forward to this, because it totally broke up my day and I was afraid I would feel like I hadn't gotten an adequate break from being a mom during the day, leading to a tense afternoon and evening.

The beautiful part is that I really enjoyed getting to know the kids in my daughter's class and watching her interact there. I saw her relative to other kids and realized that many of my fears about her socialization process have been founded on assumptions. I began to understand her teacher a little better--a woman I had previously judged to be much less personable than she actually is.

The lesson from today, I guess, is that I need to reserve judgement until I have seen "with mine own eyes". A simple truth that was illustrated beautifully for me today in a room with 28 six- and seven-year-olds.