Midlife Creative

Our summer has been pretty quiet and boring. Kind of like the summers I remember as a kid. On a good day, growing up in small town Minnesota, I would walk to the library two blocks from my house and come home with an armful of books, retreat to the couch and read, read, read while my siblings played kick ball in the front yard. They would ask me to join the team, but they didn’t try too hard because they knew the answer was always “No thanks”.

When I wasn’t reading, I was playing the piano. I played and played and played. It didn’t matter that the piano was the most out of tune instrument on earth. Any piece of music I could find, I played. When I discovered chords, I played worship music and began to sing and play at church. I spent hours at that piano. In high school, I made a flyer on an 8 1/2 x 11 piece of white paper in Times New Roman Font declaring myself a piano teacher. Almost instantly, I found myself with about 10 students. This began what I never imagined would be a lifetime career path.

Fast forward to now…

The summer has been filled with lots of daily walks. We mostly walk around the Summit neighborhood of St Paul. I love looking at all the historic homes and beautiful flowers. Ivy, age 10, says when asked about taking walks, “I’m more of an indoor person”. Malia, age 13, says “Walks are good to get the body moving and clear the mind. I always feel better after taking a walk”.

My kids are not piano players and they throw a fit if I mention the library (maybe more of Mark’s kids in that way). Our two oldest kids were into theater and art. Our two younger kids have somehow become obsessed with sports. Both Malia and Ivy play tennis and volleyball and Ivy plays soccer.

This week we celebrated Ivy’s 1st place tennis tournament win at the SPUT summer carnival. She received a medal at the awards program. Tennis has been a great place to reconnect with some of my mom friends that I’ve met throughout the years. When Ivy was in preschool, we went to story time at the West 7th library every week and we always played with the same families each week. One of those families was in tennis this year. Another friend from Global Arts Plus, Ivy’s old school, also played. Coming back and seeing these mom friends again was such a sweet reminder of those early days when park dates and library storytime’s filled our mornings. I’ve always loved gathering with other families. When Ivy and Malia were young, I organized neighborhood park days, led a Moms of Preschoolers group, and joined ECFE. Being a mom was my LIFE. It was the same when Elliot and Tabby were young. My mom friends and I in Morris, MN held holiday themed parties for our kids, played at the Eastside park, and walked down the middle of the street hunting for garage sales with Diet Cokes in hand.

This week as I was coming back from a gathering at the Highland Pool with a couple of moms and their kids, Malia said to me “Mom, you better soak up these playdates where you get to stay with the kids because they aren’t going to last much longer.” Oh, Malia…you speak the truth.

These days of parenting young kids go by so quickly. I know my mom would feel similarly as she looks back on raising 7 kids to adulthood. We all gathered this past weekend at a family cabin to be together. It was a good reminder to me that every phase is beautiful. My mom is now in the Grandma phase and seeing her kids become parents themselves; another chapter that is sweet in its own way. I can’t begin to imagine where Mark and I will be 10 years from now. It’s a good reminder to make every day count.

Today I took a walk near Minnehaha Falls. As I watched the water make its way over rocks and fallen tree branches, under bridges and around bends, gradually making its way downstream and out into the mighty Mississippi River, I thought about how the course of the stream is like life.
Our spiritual lives sometimes feel slow and stagnant and other times flow with a powerful momentum.

There are often obstacles in our way that change our course, slow us down, or block the path we need to go. Even so, the need to move along toward our destiny is built into our core and pushes us forward. We are made for a purpose and God is intent on getting us where we need to be.

I have been meeting with a spiritual director regularly for about 6 years now. What is a spiritual director? It is a person trained in listening and asking questions. They are a companion on your spiritual journey. Every month, my director asks me to share what’s been happening in my life and then asks me questions and helps me tune into what God has been speaking to me. She takes notes and refers back to them each time we get together. It is a real gift to have an attentive companion reminding me of things I have said or learned over the course of months and years of my life. My spiritual director keeps everything in our meetings confidential and holds space for me to wrestle with God and to have more questions than answers sometimes.

As I have met with my spiritual director over time, I’ve realized that we have much in common and many of the gifts she has, I have as well. I started writing in my journal, “God, if you want me to become a spiritual director, show me when it is the right time.”

Almost the next day after writing that, I was driving to a meeting with a piano teacher friend and she mentioned that she was going to meet with her spiritual director that day. Since this is not an everyday thing, I immediately paid attention. She said she was considering being trained as a spiritual director. I said, “NO WAY! ME TOO!” I asked her where she went for direction; and she said she met with a Nun at St Thomas More Catholic Church in St Paul. “That’s where my kids go to school! That’s a block from my house!” I said in surprise.
I went home and immediately googled “spiritual direction – St Thomas More” and an invitation came up. It said, “Are you considering becoming a spiritual director? Come find out more!” The meeting would be a panel of directors from different training programs around the Twin cities and would be held at St Thomas More just a few weeks away.

I attended the meeting and found out about a number of training programs. The one that felt most right to me was the 2-year distance learning program out of Chicago with an organization called Christos Center for Spiritual Formation.

Spiritual Direction has its roots in the Catholic tradition, but this program is inter-denominational and has participants from a wide variety of faith traditions. To be accepted into the program, I had to provide a paper, interview, and character references. Becoming a spiritual director is not something that everyone is called to do and the people running the program do a great job of walking through the discernment process with those who are interested. My schooling will start this coming September. The program includes weekly zoom meetings with my classmates from around the globe, small group spiritual direction training, and lots of reading and writing reflection papers. There is a silent retreat weekend next winter and an in person retreat in the spring.

To say I’m excited about this opportunity is an understatement. It feels like I am coming home to a part of who I have always known I am. Being raised in a charismatic church with very little liturgy, silence, or ritual, this is a part of me that has not been exercised much. Every time I am in a space when we are invited into stillness and listening, I feel at home. I first started meeting with a spiritual director during a time in my life when I wasn’t getting much from normal Sunday morning church. I knew that my faith was changing and I was not the same as I was as a young Christian. I didn’t view church the same way as I used to and I had a lot of questions about how what I had been taught fit into the current world I was living in.

Those early meetings helped me feel less alone. I found someone who could listen and seek to understand who God made me to be. On days when nothing made sense, she reminded me that we all go through seasons in our faith journey and feeling like God is silent or having questions is not a bad thing.

If you are interested in finding out more about spiritual direction, I’d love to talk more. It’s really not as mysterious as it sounds. I will not be “directing” anyone as many people assume because of the title. I will simply be a companion who helps people hear the Holy Spirit for themselves. If you would like to give toward the financial needs of my training, all my birthday money this year will be going to my tuition fund.

      A parable about loss, time, and chance

The skating rink on the corner of Prospect and Main was bustling with families, couples, and students from the nearby college decked out in Christmas sweaters and Santa hats.  A group of carolers dressed like elves sang “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” next to the coffee and bagel cart on the corner.  Shoppers hurried in and out of the Macy’s store, juggling their boxes and bags of gifts, hurrying home to do their wrapping.  It was the day before Christmas and the city was alive with holiday cheer. 

A minivan with a tree tied to the top made its way through the stop light, and onto the freeway.  The family in the car – husband, wife, 10-year-old son, and 2-year-old daughter were headed back to their beautifully decorated home in the suburbs.  They had waited until the last minute to get their tree at the farmers market this year instead of cutting down their own. Life had taken an unexpected turn when the husband was laid off from work.  His wife had not taken the news well and had fallen into anxiety and depression over the past three weeks since receiving the news.  They would both try to pull themselves together for Christmas, for the sake of the kids.  Their gifts would include the things on their lists as well as a surprise – a puppy.   

________

On that same corner sat a homeless man, dressed in patched jeans and carrying a cardboard sign that read: In Crisis. Anything Helps.  The man sat on the bench by the bus stop, watching the families skate, and listening to the sound of the carolers under the softly lit pine trees.  The sun had begun to set, and a damp chill darkened his mood.  “These damn shoes,” he complained.  The hole near the toe of his black boot had grown bigger since yesterday, and his socks were now wet.  Tonight, he would make his way back to the shelter in hopes of a meal of something other than chicken soup.  Maybe turkey or ham for the holiday?  He was hoping for a gift from a stranger to buy a Christmas gift for his daughter.  Was it too much to hope he might see her tomorrow?  His ex-wife had recently remarried and started a blended family with a man who seemed to have done quite well for himself as a banker.  The homeless man thought back on the last few years and the countless times he had broken the trust of his first love.  Addiction had ruined his chances of a normal relationship.  It would be a miracle if she granted him even an hour with his daughter. 

__________

High above the city square, in the 12-story building next to Macy’s, was an apartment where 75-year-old widow, Joan, lived with her cat, Juju.  She didn’t have many decorations, just a one-foot fake Christmas tree with a few candy canes hung from its branches.  Her daughter had a life and family of her own.  She hadn’t visited her in years, and neither reached out to the other.  The last time she had seen her was five years ago at her husband Bill’s funeral.  Joan was quiet and kept to herself.  It’s not that she had a problem with people; she just didn’t always know what to say to strangers.  

“Maybe I’ll make something special for Christmas Eve dinner?” she thought to herself.  Bill’s favorite was roast beef with carrots and mashed potatoes, but it seemed extravagant to make a meal like that for one person.  Instead, Joan ended up walking to Betty’s Cafe on the corner where she ordered her usual – a hot beef commercial.  

“I’ll take a piece of blueberry pie tonight, too,” she told Betty.  Why not?  It’s Christmas”

Betty was always there to take her order and she considered her a friend.  Betty’s Cafe was one of the only places where she was spoken to by name.  

On top of running the restaurant, Betty lived with a mother who was battling dementia.  She was a good soul and a hard worker; the kind of daughter that Joan would have liked to have.  

___________

Also overlooking the skating rink on that busy corner of the city was St Mark’s hospital.  Looking down from her hospital window on the 8th floor was 45-year old Patricia.  It sure was a shame that she would be spending Christmas in a hospital bed.  She wondered which nurse would be working tonight and felt bad they would be giving up their holiday.  Patricia was recently divorced and had relocated to the city for a job.  A few coworkers had taken her out for karaoke one night before she had suffered her stroke.  Those same co-workers had sent her a signed card, a plant, and a box of chocolates.  Other than this kind gesture, she doubted she would hear from them.  Her brother and his wife lived in a nearby suburb.  Upon moving closeby, she assumed she would see or hear from them more often, but had only seen them once in the past year.  It’s a pity she had never been invited to their house.  

___________

Among a group of college students at the skating rink is good looking and happy go lucky, Max.  Finals are finally over and the feeling of relief brings a reason to celebrate. Max is thankful that the countless late nights of studying are over and he can just chill for a few weeks.  He has decided to take up his housemate’s invitation to stay in the city to celebrate Christmas.  His Dad has remarried and lives with the family in the suburbs.  

“Dad told me they are giving their kids a puppy for Christmas this year, and it sounds like they won’t miss me,” he told his roommate as they skated around the rink.  Things had been awkward since Max told his Dad that he was gay and had a boyfriend.  He could tell that his coming out was a big surprise and a disappointment to his dad.  They never had much in common to talk about, and now it would feel even more so.  

___________

These snapshots are all surprisingly related.  Each person’s story is intertwined with the first family – the husband, wife, and two kids.  In that car, carrying the Christmas tree, is the young daughter of the homeless man.  If the man with the sign would have turned his head at the moment the van passed, he may have seen his daughter smiling at him from her car seat.

The widow in the high-rise apartment happens to be the mother of the woman in the van.  They haven’t spoken to one another for five years.  It’s unclear why the daughter doesn’t have an interest in a relationship with her mother.  Maybe there is a misunderstanding between them?  Just five minutes after the van left the neighborhood with the Christmas tree, Joan walked down that same street on her way to eat at the cafe.  If she would have been 5 minutes earlier, she may have had a surprise meeting with her estranged daughter.

The man in the car has a sister he hasn’t seen in a while named Patricia.  She is the one who is spending Christmas in the hospital.  He knows his sister has moved to the city for work, but they haven’t spoken, and he has no idea she is sick.  

The college student, Max, is the man’s son from his first marriage.  Max decided to go skating with his friends very near where his dad was picking out a Christmas tree at the downtown farmers market.  In fact, just an hour before the family was paying for their tree, Max was at the same farmers market buying some candied nuts, which made him think of his dad.  Max had been wishing he felt more comfortable calling his dad just to chat while he was on break from classes and finally had some extra time.

The man in the car, caught up in his own crisis of job loss and his wife’s anxiety, is unaware that his sister is looking down at him from her hospital room, his son skating within a block of the farmers market, and his mother-in-law getting ready to walk the same street to the cafe.  He has forgotten, or maybe doesn’t realize that his sister is lonely, and that his son wishes they could talk.  His wife doesn’t understand that her daughter’s birth father and her own mother would give anything to be granted an hour with the family this Christmas. 

These family members were all within minutes of a chance meeting, yet fate didn’t allow them the opportunity – at least this time.  On another day with another set of circumstances, maybe things would have been different. 

When was the last time someone told you that your work mattered and you were making a difference? How did those words feel?

My business coach, Amy Elmore, sent me a voicemail this week that was so genuine and encouraging that I listened to it multiple times with a huge grin on my face. She gave specific examples of ways she had seen me grow in the 8 sessions we had together. The message she sent was transformative. It all of a sudden dawned on me how starved I had been for spoken words of encouragement like Amy had given me. I played the message for my kids and my husband. I said, “Listen to this!” like a proud youngster bringing home their first perfect spelling test.

As a softer spoken person, I don’t go out of my way to start conversations with a strangers very often. Sometimes I hesitate to share kind words or specific positive feedback because it takes courage and sometimes I just don’t feel all that courageous. There is always someone who is walking a similar path to me, but hasn’t come quite as far yet. I understand more than anyone what that person is going through. This is true for all of us.
These kindred spirits need to know that they have what it takes. You can cheer them on as they make their way over the bumps and through the dark tunnels of life.

In St Paul, we are living on the route of the Twin Cities marathon. This means that when we can wake up on October 1st, and walk outside, we will see marathon runners and hear the sound of live music, cow bells, and groups cheering fans. Watching a race of this magnitude is a powerful experience. Can you imagine running 26 miles? I can hardly run one mile, let alone 26. I’ve been watching the TC marathon for the last several years, and every single time I get tears in my eyes. It is such an emotional experience to see these runners accomplishing their dream of finishing the race they have worked so hard to run. This year I get to cheer on my dear friend Brooke who is running her first marathon.

We have the opportunity every single day to cheer on our loved ones, neighbors, and co-workers. We have the opportunity to help them see in themselves what we have seen in them all along. Instead of keeping your thoughts to yourself, why not share them? Tell your loved one or co-worker or neighbor the good things you see in them and how proud of them you are. You just never know where those words will land and the impact they might make. Your words really do matter.

I just finished reading a book called How Do You Like Your Eggs? by Autumn Lynne.
It’s a book for those of us who have trouble making decisions and knowing what we want. It’s a part memoir, part self-help book. The author provides exercises and journal prompts for readers who are feeling stuck in life. She offers a bold and beautiful way out of people pleasing and into living a life of deeper satisfaction. One of the suggestions she gives is to make a bucket list of things you want to do within a certain timeframe. It could be 50 things before 50 like I am choosing to do, or 20 things in the next year. The important part is that it is manageable, realistic, and able to be completed within the time frame. My instagram friend, Monica was the one who told me about the book and inspired me when she sharing her own list.

You can find my list of 50 Things I Want to Try Before I Turn 50 below. I turned 45 this year, so I have 5 years to complete everything on the list. If you have expertise or interest in trying one with me, hop on board! I can’t do this alone. Better yet, make your own list. and let’s cheer each other on in stepping out of our comfort zones and trying new things.

MY 50 BEFORE 50 LIST

1. Play pickleball
2. Go horseback riding
3. Learn how to make 3 mixed drinks
4. Visit 5 National Parks
5. Go back to Madilyn Island and jump off the rocks
6. Visit Glacier National Park in Montana
7. Get a pedicure
8. Pick flowers on a farm and arrange a bouquet
9. Ride on a tractor
10. Go to a piano teacher retreat
11. Write a book
12. Visit a new apple orchard
13. Let my hair go gray
14. Buy a house
15. Try Ethiopian food
16. Plant a veggie garden every summer
17. Fly in a private plane
18. Take a hot air balloon ride
19. Go to a Broadway show in New York City
20. Visit 3 State Parks along the North Shore in Minnesota
21. Climb a mountain
22. Take a creative writing class
23. Sing Handels Messiah with a group
24. Take voice lessons
25. Visit a Jewish Synagogue
26. Be a part of a cookie exchange
27. Ride a tandem bicycle
28. Complete a cross stitch project
29. Go tubing down a river
30. Go to another state fair besides Minnesota
31. Sleep in a boat overnight
32. Take a trip with Elliot and Tabby
33. Travel somewhere by myself
34. Go on a 24 hour silent retreat
35. Visit the Swedish Institute of MN
36. Visit the MN Landscape Arboretum
37. Go strawberry picking
38. Go snow shoeing
39. Attend the amateur talent show at the MN State Fair
40. Visit Big Sur in California
41. Make homemade pickles
42. Join a fiction book club
43. Visit another country besides the U.S. with Mark
44. Go to a concert with Mark
45. Serve a meal at a homeless shelter
46. Go fishing
47. Take my nieces and nephews on an outing
48. Take an aunt or uncle out to lunch
49. Buy myself a piece of art
50. Go cross country skiing

Now it’s your turn. Which things on my list appeal to you? Is there one that you could help me to complete? Do you have your own bucket list?

This phrase is one that Mark shared with me years ago, and I keep going back to it because it feels like it has become a good mantra for life.

“Let go, say no, go slow”

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up hope or quitting. It means realizing that there are things that are beyond your control. Can you control the opinions of others? Can you control what someone thinks about you or how they respond to you? Can you control the decisions others make or how they choose to spend their time or money? Can you control the way they eat, drink, or talk about other people?
My spouse and children help me practice this one the most. Every single day I have opportunities to let go of what I can’t control.

Saying No used to be hard for me, but the more I do it the better I get at it. Here are some examples of a few things I consistently find myself saying no to.

“No, I don’t take students on Fridays”.

“No, make-up lessons are not guaranteed.”

“No, I am not able to come to an event that is an hour away and involves driving through Friday rush hour.”

“No, I will not be able to join the PTA or chaperone field trips.”

Going Slow is counter-cultural where I live. I’ve realized this more than ever after returning from a 6 month road-trip where I had fewer responsibilities and long unplanned days. When I work hard during the week, I want a lot of open space on the weekends to “just be” and allow for “spontaneous adventures”. I was raised in a small town where sitting on the front porch and waving to the neighbors walking by was considered entertainment. One of my piano student families let their kids dig a giant hole in their front yard which provided the kids with hours of free entertainment. Since the hole looked a little out of place on their city street, the mom apologized for the mess, admitting her fear of judgement. I laughed and said, It reminds me of my own childhood. We had a neighborhood digging club too. It was the best!

Do you find yourself wishing that life would slow down a little? Maybe you wish you had a few more free days with nothing scheduled on the calendar? Or maybe you love being busy and get bored when there is “nothing to do” like a couple of my kids who are constantly asking. “What are we DOING today?”

It takes all types of personalities to make the world go round and we each have our own limits when it comes to the pace of life we choose. I hope you can find what works for you and embrace it fully. Let go, say no, and if it suits you….go slow.

Here are a few photos from my slow day today at Lake of the Isles and Eloise Butler Flower Gardens.