Back to a Former Place

For three years now, I've chosen a word with which to begin the new year.  Having a relevant word, rather than a resolution, for inspiration and reflection is such a spacious proposition.  There is no hard-lined outcome or number to which I feel beholden, no resultant competition with the self over which to fret.  It feels more oriented toward process, patience, and mindfulness.  I tip my hat to my mother-in-law for sharing the idea of this practice with me.  This year, my word is return.

The notion of coming back to a former place cropped up like a determined weed as I pondered my selection for 2014.  Mothering a baby, living in community, and creating a new work path is not easy.  Decision-making, clear and reasoned thought, and an almost marathon level of physical endurance seem to be in order daily.  When these processes, which require time and waiting, slowly or suddenly become demands it is easy for me to lose touch.  I feel confused, exhausted, and even resentful.  The word return serves as an anchor for me.  When I feel life getting out of balance, driven by demands, I return to a place of quiet and wait.  Long (and wondrous) story short, quieting and turning inward is a way toward the wellspring of love, truth, and non-judgement inside me.  What a nice place from which to make a choice or not make a choice.

As May fast approaches her first birthday, my thoughts return to where my family was one year ago.  We were in Cairo and entering the third trimester of pregnancy.  Khamseen, the fifty-ish day season of strong winds and dust, was in full effect.  Temperatures tipped the one hundred degree mark.  Walks around town were best taken in early morning or evening.  Living in such a severe climate felt oppressive at times, but today I long to feel oven-baked heat on my skin.  I miss the smell of orange blossoms blown about by the wind.  Gardeners watered gardens and rinsed streets before even the sun rose.  I miss this brief window during which the air was moist.  And as New Englanders grow increasingly indignant toward the final stretch of cold weather, I miss the hospitality and friendship so characteristic of Egyptian culture.

The photos below were taken from Justin's office window and quite effectively capture the intensity of the dust.  They impress me so!

May soars past her ninth month this Sunday.  Equidistant on either end from birth.  More ponderings and photos on that soon!

The Right Side of the Womb

Twenty-six years ago, my cousin Maureen Elizabeth Kelly graced the world with her birth.  I swear the sun has shone brighter since.  Known affectionately to many as Mo, her mother has always said that she "woke up on the right side of the womb".  Twenty-six years of friendship with this beautiful, bright, creative woman and I agree whole-heartedly.

A few weeks ago, and I cannot remember what prompted this question, I asked my housemates who is the happiest person they know.  My answer was a resounding, "Mo!"  Her natural way is to live life with joyful fervor and rich appreciation.  In the brief eight months we lived together, I noticed Mo to be a person who smiles more often than not.  Sipping her morning mug of coffee, while listening to a.m. jazz?  Smiling.  Tiny, red-toed feet crossed and perched upon the table, while reading the travel section in the Sunday New York Times?  Grinning.  Bustling about the kitchen, slicing up a green apple and some aged cheese?  Smirking.  Setting out into the day with that eternal spring in her step and cello strapped proudly to her back?  Beaming!  I don't know what her secret is...  and perhaps it's as simple of the right side of the womb...  but Mo has a way of allowing happiness and embracing pleasure.  She lives her life not in an "if-only, either-or" way, rather with a "why-not, can-do" attitude.  I adore and admire Mo Kelly and celebrate her today.

Here she is...  all smiles!  This photo was taken right after my marriage, the eve of which Mo slept next to me.  Thank you for sharing years of such comfort and abiding friendship, dear cousin.

Are you familiar with eudaimonia?  Read up, it's wonderful!  The good composed of all goods!  And I think it has to do with Mo's gift for living life.  Here's a related excerpt from a Huffington Post article that I really like.  

Cobbled from the Greek eu ("good") and daimon ("spirit" or "deity"), eudaimonia means striving toward excellence based on one's unique talents and potential—Aristotle considered it to be the noblest goal in life. In his time, the Greeks believed that each child was blessed at birth with a personal daimon embodying the highest possible expression of his or her nature. One way they envisioned the daimon was as a golden figurine that would be revealed by cracking away an outer layer of cheap pottery (the person's baser exterior). The effort to know and realize one's most golden self—"personal growth," in today's lingo—is now the central concept of eudaimonia, which has also come to include continually taking on new challenges and fulfilling one's sense of purpose in life.

Cheers to happiness, everyone!  Cheers to Mo!

And read her blog, if you haven't.  One of her many daimons that'll charm your pants off.  60 Beans Per Cup!