Feng Shui and Other Mysteries
Posted: December 31, 2008 Filed under: Aha!, Housekeeping, Writers Write Leave a comment »I am a pragmatist. Probably, a cynic too. I quit reading my horoscope at fourteen. Just when my my friends were discovering Star Scrolls from 7/11, I swore off all discussion of my zodiac sign. I enjoyed suggesting that Jeane Dixon merely rotated the messages in the daily newspaper, moving Pieces up to Aries and Aries down to Taurus.
In Chinese astrology, Bacon and I are both roosters. Our children are a rabbit and a snake. I still think it’s garbage. We bought Coco a chop when we were in China, and I couldn’t bear to buy our baby a slithering python carved in onyx. We substituted another forest animal.
So, it’s news to me that I can rearrange my bedroom to find peace and harmony. Qi. That’s exactly what happened. We’ve lived in the same house for 15 years, and I’ve never felt comfortable in the master bedroom–until this week. We moved the birthday cake bed of ours to the wall facing the patio door. It’s changed my view.
What shouldn’t be a startling discovery is just that, a startling discovery. The sun flows in the window through the stained glass that before, hung over our heads. I can see it now. No longer hanging for others, it hangs for me. That alone was enough to make me vaccum the den. (Those who know me, know this is a major transformation. For the better part of last year, I didn’t own a vacuum. And that’s probably too much information.)
Here’s the thing. The important discoveries are obvious. So close, we’re blinded by their impact. With a hug, a gesture, a few words I can share my feelings. I don’t have to wait until the stars are in a line to do it.
CrispChristmas@Random
Posted: December 26, 2008 Filed under: Joined at the Heart, Writers Write Leave a comment »I’ve lost my keys. I haven’t lost keys since . . . I was a school teacher. I’ve been through the laundry, looked under the car seat, pilfered around the piles of leftover Christmas wrap. No keys.
I haven’t been blogging. I’m aware that the posting of kid picts is not a substitute. The kids are cute, but that’s beside the point. I have a bad attitude, and I grew up with a Mama, whose favorite saying was “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
I’m not angry. I’m whiny. I hate whiners, and I don’t like myself when the impulse takes over. So, I suppress. There’s a problem with suppression. I call it the Statin Principle, like the cholesterol drug. When you take one of those little pills so your arteries don’t fill with goo, it works indiscriminately. Your LDL drops–the lethal goo that causes trouble. But so does your HDL–the good stuff that keeps your body working. It’s a Catch 22.
No matter what Mom said, I can’t write when I suppress. So, here it is. I like Christmas, but it bugs me. I don’t like obligation gifts. I don’t like obligation parties. I don’t like to make excuses. It feels like lying, but I don’t like hurt feelings, either. Catch 22, again. I don’t like television ads that market to my children. I don’t like people who randomly give my children sweets that destroy their teeth and make them crazy, then leave it up to me to be the bad guy. Ditto with dollar store trinkets that might be covered in lead paint. Try telling a seven year old that the cool mood ring is poisonous. This is just the tip of the iceberg.
But, I do like Christmas. I do. I love my girls on Christmas morning. I love new pajamas. I love the gifts they choose for me. I love watching them play with new toys all day.
I love to remember the time when I was 10 or 11. My brothers were home. BBC1 just back from Vietnam. BBC2 leaving for Vietnam just after the holiday. They bought me a Twirling Baton and wrapped it in a tube, calling it a “Glass Map of South America.”
I love to remember the surprise in my Dad’s voice when I phoned him from China on December 25, 2002. “Hello Daddy, Happy Birthday. I’m holding your newest granddaughter.” Baby Coco squealed in the background. I shook with pride, elation, and gratitude. “Thanks for everything, Daddy.”
Not every moment is a peak experience. Good thing. Sometimes, I have so much emotion that I have to suppress. Take the pill to get through the mist. Some days, it would be enough to find my keys.
Gotcha!
Posted: December 22, 2008 Filed under: Joined at the Heart, Mouths of Babes 2 Comments »Six years ago today, Coco became my daughter. She was a tiny elf, but already a force of nature, full of laughter and strong opinions. For the past few days, she’s been reminding us, “Monday is my Gotcha Day!” We’ll celebrate by going to see The Tale of Despereaux and eating at California Pizza Kitchen. Here are then and now pictures.
The girls in China, the week after Coco claimed us.
Last week at a friend’s birthday in full fairy princess regalia.
