Museum Moment

Jeanita is one of my oldest and dearest friends, the kind you might not see for months and yet when you meet again, you can pick up exactly where you left off. Lately we’ve been trying to come up with a free weekend that we could get together with another couple of friends, and it seems impossible to come up with a date that will work for all the people involved. I’m not talking about a week or even an entire weekend. We’ve given up on that idea. Now we’re just trying to find a free spot for dinner! Incidentally, we live about 140 miles apart so it’s not as if she’s right around the corner. And then when you add more people into the mix, then a meeting really gets complicated!

At some point during last night’s conversation, Jeanita said something I’ve heard her say many times. It’s a thought I’ve heard expressed by many women.

“I thought things were supposed to get easier as we got older,” she said. “It seems like they’re getting more and more complicated.”

“You’re right,” I agreed. “I’m busy all the time, and I often wonder how I managed to get anything done when I was a younger mother.”

As I’ve mentioned before, the key is balance. Jeanita and I like to have fun and have taken some trips to NYC together. On one of them, we left Judy, Joan Ella, and Patty at the hotel so that we could visit the MoMA, Museum of Modern Art, where there was a Van Gogh exhibit. I was having a conniption fit to see The Starry Night, and despite the fact that we’d miss having dinner with the rest of our party before the theatre, Jeanita was up for the experience.

We rode in a bicycle drawn rickshaw to get there, and even though we only had thirty minutes to savor the exhibit once we arrived, it was well worth the time and the money. On the way, we laughed and chatted and absorbed the energy of the city. Then when we got into the museum and on the floor of the exhibit, I said something like, “Let’s just walk in calmly and amble along until we see it.” She grinned, nodding in agreement.

And that’s what we did. After looking at paintings of wheat fields and potato eaters, we rounded a corner and there it was, The Starry Night. Awed by the painting’s intense colors, swirling celestial orbs, and the cypress tree reaching toward heaven, neither of us spoke for a few moments. Standing there, we talked about the tiny town nestled beneath the sky and how the church steeple reached heavenward, just like the tree. In the sky, there was action and energy and light; below there was quiet and darkness. We talked about how puffed up and important we humans think we are, and yet when compared to the cosmos, we’re “small potatoes.”

I’d have to say that viewing the painting was pretty close to a spiritual experience. While studying scriptures, praying, meditating, attending church, reading inspirational books and magazines are all beneficial for our spiritual growth, so is visiting an art museum and appreciating the work of the great painters. So are visiting a beach, a mountain, or your own backyard. Mother Nature can be a good nurturer, and often a walk around my neighborhood turns into a moving meditation.

Jeanita and saw the rest of the exhibit and then circled back for one last look at Starry Night. I bought a poster of it in the museum gift shop, and whenever I look at it, I remember that day in Manhattan when I was both Mary and Martha. Balance is the key.

The Better Part

I think the highlight of my 2011 Spring Break was an Easter party that I attended in Rincon, GA yesterday afternoon. The event reminded me that I have way too much Martha in me. Seriously, I could almost hear the Savior whispering, “Martha, Martha,” and that’s what prompted me to go.

My purpose for going to Rincon was to see the changes in my daughter’s house and to help her with de-cluttering, cleaning, or watching after her four children so that she could paint, organize, or do whatever else she needed to do in order to get her home and psyche in order for Seth. He’s the baby who will arrive in July, and for the last few weeks, Carrie has been gearing up for his birth. Her daughters now have their bedroom upstairs, and the boys have been moved to the former girls’ room, thus leaving a bedroom free for baby Seth. Plus, the children have new twin beds and the cool bedding to go with them.

Upon arrival, I found Carrie washing dishes and Rich power washing the outside of the house. Within seconds, I could see that even washing dishes was a challenge because of the constant interruptions and needs of the children. I then learned that we only had a couple of hours because Carrie and the kids had been invited to a birthday party. “Go ahead,” I told her. “I can tackle things here on the home front much easier with an empty house.”

The moment the van left the garage, Susie Homemaker swung into action. I cleaned the children’s bathroom, vacuumed the carpet, mopped the kitchen floor and was in the middle of washing, drying, and folding clothes when the crew arrived home from the party. The children showed me their goodies, and the girls asked me to help them make friendship bracelets. I wanted to, and yet I felt determined to finish the laundry. “In a minute,” I promised.

The children began talking about the Easter party scheduled for that same afternoon, and I told Carrie to go ahead and take them. “I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “I still have another load of laundry to fold.”

“Why don’t you go with us?” Carrie asked.

“Well, you know I have to get back to Camden before dark, and I just don’t know if I can finish what I’ve started AND go to the party.”

No reply from Carrie. Then for the third time, Brooke asked, “Grandmama, will you please help me with my bracelet now?”

Truly and sincerely, I heard, “Martha, Martha,” and within seconds, Brooke and I began working on her bracelet. I looked across the table at my tired daughter who was trying to summon the energy for the party and announced that yes, I thought it might be fun to go to a party.
We all piled in the van and rode to one of the most memorable Easter parties I’ve ever attended. The yard was beautiful with flowers, scrubs, goldfish ponds, an arbor, shade trees, and swings. Colton loved the latter; in fact, he made a beeline for a small swing, and except for the times when he was chasing balloons or devouring cupcakes, we knew where to find him.

I looked around, and my heart felt full. When did Braden grow so tall? And then, my granddaughters’ heads were easy to spot as the sun shone on the braids I had woven in their hair before the party. Brooke came over to where I was sitting on a wall enjoying some lemonade and recited the Pledge of Allegiance for me. Braden showed me where his new tooth was coming in. Emma showed me an angry red spot on the top of her foot where a “mosquito ant” had bitten her. Colton’s balloon popped, and undaunted, he marched right over to a clothesline where several were hanging and let the man in charge know that he wanted another one NOW.

There was a toddler there with pretty red hair. And Kim’s little daughter with her stretchy red headband was adorable. I met someone named Shirley who described some lovely places in Washington, thus increasing my desire to stop there when we go to Alaska next year. I also met a man who teaches at a prison, and I observed my sweet daughter conversing with several friends, thus assuring me that although her mama isn’t close by, she’s still being looked after. I ate a chocolate cupcake from LaNae’s table after decorating it with chocolate icing, and then I ate a Ball Park frank.

I sauntered over to the two goldfish ponds and saw these huge colorful fish swimming around and around and around in the pools. Leaning over one pond was one of the cutest little boys I’ve ever seen, and he was trying to catch one of the fish. He looked up at me long enough to say that he was going to catch one to take home to put in his goldfish bowl because his fish had died.

Sounds of laughter, conversation, and squeals of delighted children were all around me. And lest I forget, there was music, including “Here Comes Peter Cottontail.” The kids went on an egg hunt, and they all came back with full baskets of plastic eggs and treats. All that and more I would have missed if I’d stayed in my Martha mode. Instead, I chose the “better part,” and today I much richer for it.

More Mary, Less Martha

Sometimes all people want is to be heard. A couple of weeks ago, my father-in-law passed away, and as several of us were standing outside of his room, an elderly gentleman walked up and said something like, “I know what you’re going through.” He and I looked at each other eyeball to eyeball, and when he knew that I was listening, he told me that his wife of many decades that died three months earlier, somewhat unexpectedly. I could have said, “Can’t you see that we’re sort of tied up with our own sorrow right now?” but I didn’t. Along with a couple of other people, I just stood there and listened.

I’ve often pondered over the brevity of Mary and Martha story in Luke. Although short, it contains many lessons, primarily the one about keeping our eyes, ears, hearts, and minds centered on the words of Christ. That short passage in Luke has prompted many discussions among my female friends as we struggle to balance the demands of our families and homes with the need to search, ponder, and pray.

This past week I learned yet another way to interpret the Mary/Martha story. When Christ tells Martha that Mary is about the “better part,” I think that he’s referring to her state of attentive mindfulness in general. Not only is he telling the sisters that listening to His words is important, but He’s also implying that we need to adopt that attitude when with our loved ones…and anyone else who’s in need of a listener.

Within our homes, there is often space and separation when there could be connectedness and communication. We talk and listen, but we do it with our heads and not our hearts. We discuss bills, dinner plans, the weather, and the latest movies, but we avoid feelings and dreams. We’re always flitting about hither, thither, and yon when perhaps our time would be better spent just listening, being fully present. Without being judgmental, impatient, or “cumbered about,” we need to sit quietly in the presence of these people in our lives.

Doesn’t Christ say that when you’ve done it unto the least of one of these, that we’ve done it unto Him? So while reading scriptures and praying is important, so is paying mindful attention to others. This week, I’ve been trying to follow Christ’s gentle instruction to Martha, and it’s SO HARD. I find myself wanting to rush in and finish sentences, go for a walk, or give advice. Part of my struggle is because of life in the 21st century with all of its craziness. Excuses aside, I’ve been instructed by the Master himself, so I’m earnestly going to try harder to be more patient and thoughtful.

Sometimes all people want is to be heard.

Finding Balance

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Mary and Martha verses in Luke. Although there are only two of them, they’re fraught with meaning. Exactly what is the better part that Christ chastens Martha about? Okay, I know what He meant, but I don’t know how to always find the balance I need. And how does one make time for it when there are people to feed, clothes to wash, floors to sweep, and provisions to buy? I have my quiet “soul time” early in the morning, but what about other times when the Martha traits creep in?

This weekend provides an excellent case in point…or two or three of them! My husband and I bought a duplex in Myrtle Beach so that we’d have a place to retreat to when the world got “too much with us.” And we also wanted a place for family and friends to gather and have lots of fun and fellowship. Labor day weekend was to be the celebratory weekend, and my daughters, son-in-law, and four grandchildren all gathered for our first holiday together there. We had dinner guests on both Saturday and Sunday evenings, with Sunday’s repast being the family feast. My brother Mike and his family joined us for Beaufort Stew, and it was fabulous to be sitting around the table basking in each other’s company.

So anyway, pretty much all weekend I was busy, busy, busy running errands, doing laundry, cooking, and so forth. Sunday rolled around, and we all went to church together. That’s a given unless someone is sick or seriously wounded. However, Elizabeth and I left after Sacrament to make a run to Wal-Mart for some final Beaufort Stew ingredients. We didn’t feel good about it, but nevertheless, we did it. Yes, we entered a place of business and bought something on the Sabbath.

Later that afternoon while everyone else was chillin’, Elizabeth was working on lesson plans, and I was working in the kitchen, doing things in preparation for the evening’s events. My little granddaughter Brooke walked into the room and announced to us that it wasn’t right to shop on Sunday and that we were supposed to keep the Sabbath holy. Knowing that she didn’t understand the ox in the ditch principle, I let it pass.

It reminded me of days of yesteryear when my former mother-in-law would leave church early to complete dinner preparations for a houseful of hungry people. Sometimes someone might “tsk tsk” her behavior, and even then as a young person without much depth, I could well understand that if she hadn’t left early, there’d be no food. Which was the greater sin? Leaving early to do a good deed or passing judgment on someone who was doing far more good than many who stayed for all three services? I might add that on most occasions, she would also prepare an extra plate of delicious food for a shut-in widow who lived close by.

Is there a way to be Mary and Martha too? If we are too much Mary-like, who will buy groceries, prepare the food, set the table, polish the silverware, sweep the floor, and change the linens? If we are too Martha-like, then we can lose our spirituality and risk becoming materialistic, worldly, and maybe even short tempered and impatient. In the account in Luke, she appears frustrated and angry.

I’m just saying it’s hard to find the balance. I’m also saying we need to cut others some slack when they’re doing the best they can.

Mary and Martha

I love it when my house is clean and orderly. When the beds are made, the furniture is dusted, and the dust bunnies have been vacuumed, a certain sense of “okayness” dwells within…within me and within my home. Add the fragrant scent of vanilla or cinnamon, and I feel inclined to relax, ponder, meditate, read, and in general, just de-stress. Add the aroma of some scrumptious goodies wafting from the kitchen, and it’s almost like heaven around here On the other hand, if there is clutter and confusion, then that’s how my mind and spirit feel: cluttered and confused. I feel restless, ill-at-ease, and jumpy. Unable to concentrate or find that inner stillness, I find myself jumping up to straighten, putter, and organize. I have a lot of Martha in me.

At the same time, I manage to find time each day to dip into the scriptures or some other spiritual readings. This morning I read an uplifting article in the Ensign about visiting teaching that gave me pause for thought. Throughout the day, I send up a few of what my friend Carol calls “sparrow prayers” in addition to the morning, evening, and mealtime prayers. I do my best to count my blessings, think charitable thoughts towards even the most trying of people (hard one), and demonstrate kindness and fairness. Do I fall short? As another friend, Shirley, would say, “You betcha.” Still, I try. I have some Mary in me too.

When I think of those two verses in Luke in which Christ is gently chastising Martha for being so busily involved in domestic activities and reminding her of the “better part,” I like to think that He’s reminding women everywhere of their priorities. We are spiritual beings having a physical experience, and He wants us to keep that in mind and to always seek to follow Him. At the same time, we live in the world, and that requires a certain amount of meal preparation, organization, and cleanliness.

I guess the key is in finding balance. Sometimes I’ve found that the very acts involved in “homecaring” can be soulful activities. As I’m putting my house in order, my mind and heart become calmer, more at peace.