Thoughts on Taking Joy, Heroes & Gratitude for Willie...

“Without heroes, we are all plain people, and don’t know how far we can go.

”

— Bernard Malamud

In a decade old community column for the Lincoln Journal Star, I wrote a piece about Bruce Feller’s THE COUNCIL OF DADS. In it he shared his cancer journey and his desire for his kids to have a council of men who could step in as fathers if he wasn’t able to be present in their formative years. At the time I had a house full of teenagers on the edge of adulting. My essay was a call for parents to encourage their kids to identify and create their own councils AND to let those wonderful people know the gratitude felt for their love and presence.  This is a worthy exercise for all of us to revisit from time to time. Whether we are 16 or 60, we are forever in need of a mentor, a sage, a champion of our hearts—someone to listen, to push us past our potential, to accept us as is...to nurture and love us through life.

For me, amidst preparing for Christmas—this holy season of Advent—there is a beautiful focus on the wonder and strength of mothers. On December 8th there is even a special feast day,  the Feast of the Immaculate Conception—a day to honor and celebrate Jesus’ own mother, Mary, who has been a  silent loving mentor and champion of my heart for so many years.  I suppose you could say that Mother Mary is head of my own personal council along with my very own mom, Carolyn, who loves me with all her heart in spite of my broken parts.

And I am blessed with others...I hope they know who they are. Some are much older; one turns 95 this week.  Some have passed, yet I carry their essence with me. Some are more like older sisters. All are wiser than me. And, for some reason, all of them love me, accept me , and empower me to live authentically. They are beacons of hope and light.  As I intentionally travel in my mind from childhood to present,  I whisper their names out loud and offer up a prayer of thanksgiving for each one of them.  I vow to reach out to the ones still making trips around the sun to remind them of their influence. I encourage everyone reading this to do the same.

One of my council moms is Willie—a treasure in our community, who was small in stature yet lived ginormously large. Her heart had room for all of us. Willie is why I am writing this morning— after so many months of not writing. Today is her celebration of life, and I miss her. I  vow to be more like her...more intentional...more edgy and bold. To eliminate the second guessing of myself and just be my best version—put myself out there. The version that has had 60 years to evolve. I need to keep my heart full of joy and gratitude and be where my hands are,  living in the moment. That is what Willie modeled for me.

Jane Yolen says in TAKE JOY, a book about writing, that when we are in periods of our life where we are not able to write, for whatever reason,  we are actually  “gathering” up life experiences which serve to make our future writing richer.  It seems I have been doing a lot of gathering these past few months, and Willie has reminded me that it is time to begin collecting those thoughts on paper again.  Thank you Willie, for continuing to encourage and nudge me into my best me.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta once said “You can do what I can’t do. I can do what you can’t do. Together we can do something beautiful for God.” Let’s reflect on who sits on each of our councils.  In this Christmas season, as we begin the new year, there is no better time for us to reach out and thank those heroes.

Wishing you Christmas blessings!  

Follow a Guiding Star: Your WORD for the New Year

“And now let us welcome the New Year. Full of things that have never been.”

-Rainer Maria Rilke, 20th Century German Poet

When celebrating Epiphany (the word means “revelation”) each year, I imagine what it would be like to travel with the wise men to find Jesus under a sky full of stars.  In Sunday’s homily, the priest challenged us to “look up” as the wise men did long ago—to search for Divine counsel, rather than leaning into self-reliance. He encouraged us to be stars ourselves—to bring our light to others.  

 Every year my family selects a word as a guiding star for the year to come. Last year, my word was SIFT. Coming from an initial attraction to the word SORT, the baker in me thought SIFT a better fit. Sifting in 2021: decluttering physical things in my “empty nester” home, sifting the blessings out of the challenges I faced, prioritizing my time and relationships, sifting through choices to be physically and spiritually healthier (eat better, sleep more, morning prayer) and sifting out (being intentional) ways to positively impact others while staying authentic.

I had expectations for my word; a desire to SIFT through things in my heart and home. From SIFT came goals to achieve—Cracks and crannies I planned on scrubbing to make new, to simplify, to tease out; removing traces of heartache and dysfunction in places that would then heal and grow. My relationships. My writing projects. My personal health. My home. I had plans!

Yet the magical, mystical thing about choosing a word for yourself and what follows is something I have learned to welcome.  The chosen word seems to have a spirit of its own. I feel God’s hand in the choosing. I highly recommend the annual ritual of selecting a word. It is an exercise in faith, learning to stay open to where the word may take you. It is reassuring to have it in your back pocket to pull out when you need some encouragement, strength and hope—or some levity. 

In 2021, I actually did quite a bit of SIFTing, but not so much within the plans I had made for myself.  There were surprises:  

·      I experienced some intense sifting of the contents of my mother’s belongings as we moved her, at a moment’s notice,  into long term care because of her Parkinson’s and dementia. I discovered much of my two grandmothers’ things still needed sorting as well. This proved daunting, exhausting and healing at the same time.

·      Discovering a bat infestation in our attic spaces with a roof leak and mold meant more sifting. Add in a shower leaking into the mudroom below and a bathroom remodel. Retrieving a deceased flying squirrel out of the bathroom toilet one fall afternoon amidst all the mess was a sifting of sorts too. (I did not make that up!)

·      In addition, my hopes for my most important relationships and my desire to write and create something publishable also changed. The sifting that came in those areas was slower and different than what I wanted. The clarity that came with personal growth was a silver-lining. I was reminded that waiting and feeling like one is doing nothing is, actually, doing an important something.

Other chosen words have amazed me. In 2015, my word was SURRENDER. I selected that word for inspiration to trust the process of recreating myself professionally with my kids nearly launched. I needed to stay open to opportunities in my work and relationships.

That October I had to pivot with a breast cancer diagnosis leading to chemo, surgery and radiation. It was then I realized I may not be choosing a word each year. That year, SURRENDER chose me. I had to let go and trust God to walk with me on the journey, having faith that I would come out on the other side a better version.

In case you’re curious—or being polite in grinding through this long blog post—my 2022 word is DISCOVER.  There were other words on my list, but DISCOVER kept nudging me; it kept popping up in things I was reading.

In various support group rooms the word RECOVERY is key to better health and ways of living. They say if you aren’t taking a step forward you are actually taking a step back. There is no fence sitting.  For me, DISCOVER is forward thinking. I don’t just want to “recover” the good and solid things from my past that perhaps got lost along the way. I want to “discover” new insights and ways to live...ways to love those around me.

Writer and anthropologist Nora Neale Hurston said, “There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”  I am hoping to discover answers to the past few years of questions. To embrace DISCOVER forces me to stay open to learn and grow while having my feet (and heart) planted firmly in what I know and have already learned about myself. I want to take risks, discover some answers and perhaps ponder more questions. The journey is where the joy resides no matter the destination. My word keeps me centered.

Reflection & Action:

Word choosing can be exciting. Do we choose our word or does a word choose us? Take these first few days of the year to ruminate on a word or two. Consider your dreams. Check out Create A New Year’s Retreat at Home in my December 2020 Joymaking for some One Word resources. Sit in front of a fire. Light a candle. Go quiet. Pray. Notice when and where a word might come knocking to be your guiding star. Commit to one and let it take you on an adventure.  Be sure to carry some blind faith and hope with you. And, like the wise men searching for Jesus on that starry night long ago, may you be filled with silent awe.

Blessings on this Epiphany, in 2022 and beyond...

“Above all else, know this: Be prepared at all times for the gifts of God and be ready always for new ones. For God is a thousand times more ready to give than we are to receive.” -Meister Eckhart

Thirty, Flirty & Thriving: A Mother's Reflection

“Mothers can look through a child’s eyes and see tomorrow.”

– Reed Markham

My daughter turned 30 last Friday.  Her birthday weekend was reminiscent of many years of backyard parties—celebrations complete with light saber wars, princesses, Dorothy’s red sparkly shoes, fire engines, camp-outs, tug of war and more! Days gone by full of fond memories. Her birthday in August kicks off the “Rice Birthday Run” with five more special days from now until early November.

To celebrate she planned a throwback beach party akin to the birthday bash she had at our family lake cabin on her Golden 13th Birthday. This time a fiesta complete with pink color changing cups, a margarita machine and fajitas. That Mary Claire! My word for her is panache—doing things with a stylish flair, a thoughtful touch, or a delectable taste.  No one will argue with me that knows her. Having infused color and a spirit of celebration in all aspects of our family life, she is all that and more. No one is a bigger fan of her three younger brothers. No one has a fiercer love for her aunt with Down Syndrome or her Gram.

God blessed me to be a mom, and mothering these four humans the past 30 years has been a privilege. I am humbled and grateful.  I’d like to think I was excellent at it most often. Yet,  I know I was growing up right beside side them most days, so mistakes were made.  LOTS of mistakes! I may have pushed a bit too hard. I may have nudged, cajoled or over suggested in promoting my own agenda. Perhaps it was about a school writing project, some experience I thought they needed or a summer job to seek out. It may also have been about how to be a better friend or sibling, the proper use of their napkin or how not to track football turf crumbs into the house or leave athletic cups strewn about?  I’m publicly apologizing for all the goofs—for being a try hard when I should have offered a quiet hug and a listening ear instead.

In re-reading my journals of long ago I catch snippets of their innocence again. Pieces of the past offering funny, authentic, honest, wide-eyed wonder-filled ways to view the world...to remember our family life.  And, my heart is full. I wonder if their hearts are full too. Author Anna Quindlen once shared when reminiscing about her own adult children, “Even today I’m not sure what worked and what didn’t, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I’d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded  in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.”

My Gallup Connectedness and Learner strengths confirm that I may never stop trying to share some inspiration, information or perspective on some slice of life. I imagine I will always be up for the difficult conversations that may arise in needing to say or listen to the hard thing in love and transparency. After all, life is full of joy and heartache and both need to be acknowledged along the journey. Perhaps, though, I will be mostly nurturing (not nagging) and joyful (not judging) in our friendships.  I’d like to believe that my mothering has moved into full on mentoring— talking less, listening more and loving always in the beautiful chaos of it all.

Here’s to thirty,  flirty and thriving!   I wish Mary Claire and her brothers many trips around the sun, full of delight, hope and possibilities—complete with star gazing, long walks, bike rides, porch sitting and a sweet slice of dessert after a family meal.

Be Brave and Sound the Alarm!

“Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.” -Francis P. Church

Be Brave and Sound the Alarm! by Mary Beth Rice

Last week my mom set off the fire alarm at a long term care facility, hollering at the Universe:  “Let me out of here!” I only learned this because she wasn’t answering her phone that day, so I called the nurse’s station that evening to see how she was doing after being transitioned there after a fall she had suffered in her assisted living facility.

“Well,” the young woman answered on the other end of the line, “I just clocked in, but the nurse who just left said that she was on quite a roll today!”  And so the story goes... 

Knowing my mom is to know her to be a loving, thoughtful enthusiastic for life woman. She is a rule follower at heart.  Yet, mom has been confused and agitated of late—frustrated and angry. So, in this moment I think she simply

Blew her Cool,

Flew into a Rage,

Hit the Roof,  

Threw a Tantrum,  

Had a Meltdown,

Lost her Sh*t?!

She reached her breaking point and forgot herself. She was overwhelmed with aging, with COVID-19 and the isolation it brings, with falling, with confusion—with having no control over many of her circumstances. The irony isn’t lost on me;  We have all felt this way—more often so in 2020.

My social self—the part of me that is connected to the demands of society—was apologizing to the young medical aid on the other end of the line, explaining that it was not like my mother and she was out of sorts. My essential self—the part of me that is connected to my true thoughts, desires, needs and feelings—was imagining with some envy what it might be like to actually pull the fire alarm myself.  My internal voice was giving a shout out to mom, “You go, Girl! Keep that fire inside lit and blazing!”

My mom’s fire alarm caper got me thinking about the differences between  tolerating  and accepting the circumstances of our lives. Tolerance is the ability to endure pain or hardship. The silver lining in tolerating something is that it can produce patience. But tolerance can also keep us stuck in old ways of doing things. It can block the courage we need to consider another way of navigating our journey.  It can cause frustration and heartache. We can fall out of gratitude and into irritability and resentment.

Acceptance has an openheartedness to it. Acceptance allows us freedoms to make choices that help us be our best version. Acceptance gives us clarity to set boundaries in circumstances. It helps us make the best of things; allows us to find the lesson in the struggle—to uncover the silver linings. Acceptance can bring serenity.

I am not sure moving from tolerance to acceptance is linear. I think it is more like the stages of grief; sometimes you circle back and have to trudge through the muck another time or two.  As time marches forward, though, I seem to find more courage to stand up for the things that matter to me or bring me joy.  I hope I am becoming more authentic and truer to myself. I believe we become better humans in doing so—better friends, better professionals, better partners, better parents, better daughters.

Bravo to Mom! In her confused state and frustration, made so much bigger in this pandemic, she was still fighting for what was most important to her. She wasn’t settling. She was going after her heart’s desire. In this case it was her freedom.

We all have circumstances in our lives we are tolerating. Refraining from hugging loved ones and wearing masks through a pandemic come to mind. Sometimes we can work our way into discovering acceptance and there is peace. Sometimes we have to set a boundary and say enough. And, sometimes we just have to let out steam now and then. That’s what my mom was doing last week.....simply letting out some steam.

I think we need to trust our struggles. The healthiest of humans don’t settle. Rather, they negotiate; they gather information, say their peace in love and focus on joy. They learn to thrive amidst their challenges and they learn self-care. It is not a perfect process.

I am wishing you all blessings, acceptance and peace on your journeys. May we look toward Christmas and the hope it brings each year,  and dwell on the possibilities of the new year. 

But to 2020 I emphatically say, “LET. ME. OUT. OF. HERE!”

Experience a New Year’s Retreat

Want to put closure on 2020? Start fresh in 2021?  Check out some New Year’s rituals to practice as a family or on your own in Joymaking—Done in person or on Zoom. Select a Word for 2021 to help manifest your hopes and dreams. Burn your regrets, mistakes and misfortunes. Reflect on the lessons and silver linings from this past year.

“Hope is the thing with feathers 
That perches in the soul 
And sings the tune without the words 
And never stops at all.” ― Emily Dickinson

Joy: The Fruit of Appreciation

“Find the gratitude in your life, and you'll find joy standing right next to it.” -Melody Beattie

 Joy: The Fruit of Appreciation by Mary Beth Rice

Did you know that in Finland they call November marraskuu which translates as “the month of the dead?” Please, let’s not go there...Instead let’s remind ourselves that November is beloved for many other things: Putting to bed one’s garden for winter, planting tulip bulbs, colorful crunchy leaves covering sidewalks, the aroma of backyard fire pits and warm mugs of apple cider. November holds space for our beloved Thanksgiving holiday which has the potential to connect us all as we celebrate being family with feasting, chilly walks, napping on the couch—perhaps with a football game or parade in the mix.

November is also National Gratitude Month, and this year it is an especially important notion to embrace. Earlier this month I was gifted with an unusually warm Saturday afternoon. All the stars aligned for an outdoor bike ride with my cycling cohort—AKA an incredible group of women I am blessed to call friends who radiate love and hope and light. 

In a post ride conversation, the topic of gratitude came up; more specifically, the subtle nuance between the meaning of “being grateful” and “being in appreciation.”  One friend shared the idea that being grateful about something is connected to a feeling of lack or deprivation, while being in appreciation is being fully present with the very thing or experience at hand.

For example, you may feel grateful for your Saturday afternoon nap because it gives you respite from having survived a stressful work week. You may also be grateful for a patio conversation with a friend-socially distanced please-knowing that you are only allowed to visit with your elderly mom through a window screen. Being in appreciation, however, is transcendent; It comes with no feeling of lack. It is “in the moment” immersion whether it is enjoying a cup of coffee on the back porch while bird watching, receiving a bear hug from your twenty something son or mastering a new recipe and eating the spoils. It soaks in the moment. It savors. It fully engages...

Over the years I have developed  a “gratitude list” practice: At night before bed I will attempt to brainstorm a list to fill a journal page on what I am grateful for that day. The list could include sunshine, a new story idea, the purring of our cats, an intimate conversation, the colorful sunset, my “adult” kiddos, coffee, or a bike ride. Were there thoughts of lack or loss in my discernment? Most likely there were, and that is an important point. Moving from feelings of lack, loneliness, despair or frustration to a place of gratitude takes practice. It can be habit forming—a new way of thinking. And, I believe it is the necessary bridge to travel over on into appreciation where one is fully present in the moment with the thing they are savoring.

Case in point: I often list my “cozy flannel pajamas” in my nightly gratitude journal. I have several pair and the more colorful the better. I admit to briefly thinking about what it would be like without those warm pajamas. There are many who don’t have warm clothes. When I move from noticing what I lack to being grateful for what I have, my mind and heart can then go fully one step further—being in that moment, feeling the texture of the flannel on my skin, the security of the coziness of my space, the warmth of my blanket and flannel sheets. I am in full on appreciation!  Feeling poverty or struggle, moving to gratitude and then landing in appreciation is the answer to finding joy. It is a daily journey and certainly not a linear process, but it’s a path worth choosing.

In his book, Amazing Possibilities,  Matthew Kelly shares that “giving thanks warms the soul and reminds us that life is an extraordinary privilege. Joy doesn’t come from having, but from appreciating what we have. You can possess all the treasures, pleasures, and blessings this world has to offer, but if you don’t appreciate them they will never bring you any real satisfaction. Joy is the fruit of appreciation.”  That is worth repeating: Joy is the fruit of appreciation...

In this month of giving thanks, I am wishing blessings of holy present moments for all—whether you are able to be physically present with those you love or not. Amidst all that is going on in our world, get out those journals, make your gratitude lists and then lean into your joy.

…Looking for a way to kick up the spice on Thanksgiving Day? Check out my pumpkin pie and  cider recipes in Joymaking...

“A thankful attitude opens up the windows of heaven...Thankfulness is not some sort of magic formula; it is the language of Love...” Jesus Calling, November 22.

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.” -Romans 12:12

Savoring the Last Bits of Summer…

“Cause a little bit of summer is what the whole year is all about.” -John Mayer

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Savoring the Last Bits of Summer… by Mary Beth Rice

Hey dear friends! There are only four days of summer left on the calendar!  Just four more “Sleeps” until Autumn’s arrival. Where did summer run off to anyway? My last blog post was in May?! What?  Perhaps I  have been a bit stuck; there is some truth in that. But maybe a bit focused, too, on living in the moment—enjoying my adult kids who have been working from our home for a short bit...knowing that life won’t always bring them back home like this.  Too soon this season is ending, and I want to grab the last bits of sparkle and glitter from the warm summer days and the colorful evening skies.  

I would like to suggest we savor whatever it is we love about summer and carry a bit of it over into the first weeks of fall.  In reminiscing over the past few weeks, what did you love the most? Can you steal one last piece of it before cold crisp air settles in? For my tribe, we have enjoyed long bike rides on the local trails, homemade ice cream and time by the lake water in North Bend. Moments spent sitting on the back porch, spying migrant birds and hummers in the hyssop, taking walks around the block and grilling our favorite meals are cherished.  Having all of us at or near home this summer has been a silver lining of the pandemic. I count my blessings.

Below is a start to my own savoring summer wish list. What’s yours?

*more long bike rides on the trails

*a round of dips to snack on for football tailgating even if it is only TV viewing (See DIP DIP HOORAY! in Joymaking)  

*noticing the monarchs on the zinnias before they head south

*corn on the cob with dinner

*ice cream on the patio—Do you have a summer snowman in your freezer? Have you tried your  hand at homemade ice cream or hot fudge? (See I SCREAM YOU SCREAM in Joymaking)

*relaxing on the back porch, listening to the harmonious chorus of insects

*one last piece of sourdough cinnamon toast with homemade Colorado peach jam

Wishing you a beautiful end to summer time summer time sum sum summertime...

Cheers to the Graduates: Embracing Butterflies in the Chapters of Life

“My wish for you—no matter where your journey leads—is for you to always…Be YOU!” -Peter H. Reynolds, Be You

Cheers to the Graduates: Embracing Butterflies in the Chapters of Life By Mary Beth Rice

The month of May is full of joy! In its brilliant color and glory, it flourishes in celebrations; May Day basket deliveries, Mother’s Day love-ins, Memorial Day honoring and SO. MANY. GRADUATIONS!

Graduates mark their time in May, having completed one chapter of their lives, pausing before moving on to another. Gatherings are in abundance, bursting with inspiration, reminiscing and reflection. Feasting on cake and laughter, surrounded by balloons and pictorial memoirs, hugs abound! We grieve the loss of this connection to one another; the absence of these bits of glitter and sparkle.

When my son, Sam, graduated from Pius X High School last year, I was asked to be the parent speaker at the annual senior breakfast-reasons to this day still unknown?! But, in re-reading my remarks during this foggy pandemic time, they still seem to resonate. I will personally miss sharing a slice of cake and a hug with all the seniors I know, so I want to reprise my remarks as a way to cheer them on. So, from a mother’s heart…

 Dear Seniors,

You are about to step into what author Melody Beattie calls the UNKNOWN-the place in life where certain cultures are taught to beware and be aware, because facing the Unknown is a powerful and exciting time—a place where God is working hard to help us create the new.

 I want to share  a bit on Books and Butterflies...

 If you think about it, you each have a novel you are writing. It is about your life, and as this chapter comes to an end, you are beginning  a new one. The exciting part is that YOU get to decide what is in this novel.  YOU get to create your story along the way. Some chapters will be long and glorious, others filled with lessons you never imagined you’d be learning. Some chapters will be light hearted and joy filled, others may be scary. As the adventure unfolds, there will be some chapters you want others to read while some chapters you may circle back to rewrite. That’s OK—life is messy.

The point is that YOU get to decide for YOU what those chapters look like—NOT your parents or others in your life that may have certain expectations of you. it  is an open book moving forward. You have creative license to make your mark in this world and that is exciting!

 On to Butterflies…

If had one wish for you all, it would be that you would be brave in your lives and EMBRACE YOUR BUTTERFLIES! I am talking about the ones that we have inside when we are excited or nervous or anxious or scared. We get them for all sorts of reasons. Perhaps when speaking in front of a crowd, during athletic tryouts, musical auditions, various interviews.   They most likely will appear when starting a new relationship or a new job. They will certainly flutter when you begin your first semester of  college or move away from home.

And, they ALWAYS come when you  set down your phone and use your voice, face to face with someone,  to break up, make an apology or when saying “I love you” for the first time. Butterflies must be embraced in order to grow…in order to grow UP!  As difficult as it sometimes can be, embracing them is necessary if we want to become our best versions in life‑the men and women God desires us to be.

Four points to consider when thinking about Embracing Your Butterflies from what I know or think I know:

1.     Embrace your Brokenness:

We are human and our brokenness makes us beautiful. It connects us to Christ on the cross.

Some of my own brokenness comes from growing up with an alcoholic father, losing a parent to cancer...from my own journey with cancer, and in my parenting adventure when I haven’t always been able to be my best version. Our broken parts make  us vulnerable and authentic and relatable to others. They gives us a connection to those around us. If embraced , we carry a humility that allows us to always be growing and open to lessons we can learn in life. We become kinder to others and ourselves.

 2.     Ask for HELP:  

Knowing we need help and asking for it can cause a huge flight of butterflies to ensue.

Years ago, when my oldest son was in preschool, he overheard his dad and I talking about a good friend who had taken her life. She had addiction and depression issues and was the loveliest of humans. I didn’t want him to think that taking one’s life was a choice or a solution that he should ever consider.  Our beloved preschool teacher stepped in and reminded him (and me) that at school he was often asking for help tying his shoes, and, as grown-ups, we sometimes forget to ask for help. At any age, we must reach out when necessary. Do not hesitate to:

Ask for directions when you are lost.—If  you ever used Google maps to find a baseball complex and it led you to a cornfield, you will realize that sometimes asking a real person at a gas station is more effective.

Get a tutor if there is one class between you and your dream!

Reach out if you or someone you love struggles with an addiction or a mental health issue. For me, this is Truth: Whether it is anxiety, depression, drugs, alcohol, eating, shopping, work, gaming, pornography or something else—we all have or love someone who has a flavor of one of these. Did I mention before that life is messy? Accept this and focus on what you can control.

Don’t  forget the ultimate ASK: PRAYER—Ask for God’s guidance in  your struggles; Request He show His will for you and how to carry that out.

 3.     Be where your hands are:

Be present. Be in the moment. Live one day at a time‑sometimes one hour at a time is necessary if you want to savor an incredible moment or successfully handle a struggle. Be  where your hands are

            in prayer,

            in relationships,

            in seeking your dreams,

            in the grind of the daily round in doing the work,

            in the celebration of all that is before you.

 4.     Consider the concept of JOY:

JOY is a butterfly producer!  Joy sits right next  to our challenges, existing in every experience we encounter. Sometimes you have to search hard and really be present to notice it.  Sometimes you will have to create it for yourself.   

 I love using the word JOY as an acronym in reminding us how we can cultivate it in our lives.

J  (JESUS)         Know you are loved by Jesus forever and for always. Love Him in return.

O (OTHERS)     Love and serve others.  Involve yourself in something bigger than you!  Know that others—your parents and teachers and friends—love you even when you aren’t always your best version. Try and love them that way in return. It is not a perfect science.

 Y (YOU)            Know that you are your own best friend and family member. Love and care for yourself. Respect yourself. That is on YOU!

As you travel on your journey, I wish for you so many butterflies in the writing of your next chapter. If you don’t have those butterflies while on the next part of your adventure, if you don’t have butterflies when starting a new relationship or a new job, if you don’t have butterflies in the college major you have chosen or whatever it is you are participating in—then reflect on that and ask yourself:  Is this the chapter I should be writing?

Embrace the butterflies. I promise you will be richer for it. Blessings and cheers to all of you! Now move the tassel and toss the mortar board!

Holy Week blessings

Holy Week Blessings By: Mary Beth Rice

 “Do not abandon yourselves to despair. We are the Easter people and hallelujah is our song.” -Pope St. John Paul II

The week prior to Easter is the holiest week of the year! I am challenged in figuring out how to keep my usual Catholic rituals in my heart throughout the week. The mass, the incense, the prayers, the hymns I love, the palm branches, the blessings and Jesus in the Eucharist. It is all I have ever known—my favorite week. There is so much emotion;  hope,  light and joy colliding on Easter Sunday with the Resurrection. All of this has been shuttered, and we are left to our own imaginations in how to honor the sacredness of it all.

During every Lent, I ponder this meditation and it resonates, especially this year.  I have no source to attribute it to but want to share it with you: What our spiritual Lent tells us about the times of trouble and sorrow in our lives is  1)  To endure them prayerfully;  2) To pay attention to the way trials change us, because they have the potential to change us for the better, to be a means of our conversion; and 3)  To look beyond circumstance, even beyond this world, to the Resurrection, as well as to the earthly resurrections that often redeem our earthly Lents.

Emily Dickinson wrote that “the soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience.”   How do we keep our souls ajar for opportunities to be still, to be inspired, to celebrate? I am intentionally changing things up. Instead of attending mass I am going to witness as many sunrises and sunsets as I am able. Instead of the incense I am going to quietly slip into an empty church and light a candle.  Instead of attending Easter mass, perhaps we will watch a live version on Facebook while sitting on our back porch, wrapped in blankets, with the backyard Cardinals as our choir.

Though we won’t be gathering for our annual Easter Egg Hunt,  I will bake kolaches and thumbprint cookies (see Joymaking) and deliver them to the neighbors. On Sunday, we will create a feast, breaking bread with those we can, and creating plates to deliver to family we love who are staying safe,  alone and apart from us. We will celebrate just like Jesus did on that holiest of Thursdays, before all hell broke loose and pain and joy mixed up into a storm cloud, followed by sunshine. It will be holy. It will be sacred. It will be love.

Getting Unstuck: The Power of One Joyful Thing

“Find the gratitude in your life, and you'll find joy standing right next to it.” -Melody Beattie, More Language of Letting Go

Getting Unstuck: The Power of One Joyful Thing By: Mary Beth Rice

Somehow, I have gotten off path. In the last few days I have fallen into the abyss of stuckness.  I imagine I am not the only one to have gone there lately; to the stuck place where you are distracted in thought and seemingly unproductive in most aspects of your daily round? Something is not quite right but you can’t name it or put your finger on it exactly. Or, conversely, you know exactly what is causing the anxiety and it is not going away anytime soon?

Every day the media reports about  loss—of life, of control in managing the pandemic, of the freedom to move about in physical spaces. How I long to give those I love big bear hugs! I struggle with trying to connect with others, awkwardly attempting new ways of doing so. And worse,  it seems that everyone I love around me has a different assessment on what is happening—the seriousness of it all, what we should be doing to protect self and others. I am wired to feel things deeply , and I work  hard at not “wearing” all of the surrounding emotions that range from fear to sadness to anger.  Currently, I am on a Kubler-Ross Grief Scale treadmill, running up and down the feelings of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. All of us have different perspectives, varying experiences from life to draw upon. Can I please stop on acceptance and rest there? Find some serenity amidst this angst?

I came across the phrase to lose heart in a meditation this week. To lose heart is to become discouraged, giving up and giving in because of weariness or frustration. Losing heart can push me into stuckness. I can easily lose heart when hurt by someone close to me, when much anticipated plans are put on hold, when I’m on edge about going out on an errand or trying to keep my home disinfected...when constantly  having to change up all the million and one ways I am “doing” my life. In these moments of stuckness I seem to lose my usual determination or confidence—my hopeful spirit. I become disheartened. Yikes!

I desperately need a reminder of another path.  What about taking heart rather than losing heart?  Taking heart means to be courageous! If I can muster up the tenacity to flip my perspective on its head—much like the world has been flipped on its head I suppose—what might that look like?  Perhaps it is in finding in each new day at least one thing for which to be grateful. When a friend of mine gets stuck, he professes to make a point to take one practical step and one joyful step each day.  Just one of each, yet those two steps can turn into a few more, and soon we may be running....no, skipping through our day, tough stuff and all. Imagine it!  

Taking heart looks different to all of us. In a practical sense it may mean creating order in your home by cleaning out a junk drawer or shredding the contents from an overly stuffed cabinet. Maybe it’s raking out the yard to ready for new growth. Maybe its setting boundaries on what we need to do as a family to stay healthy during this time.  Encouragement can come from these big and small acts.  

Joyfully speaking, for me, it can be witnessing sunrises and sunsets or baking something that makes the house smell incredible and sharing it with someone. It is making time to send a card to someone to encourage or appreciate them in their current struggle or good fortune. (See Joymaking)

What I am wishing for us all right now, in whatever unknown place we find ourselves, is to concentrate on taking one practical step and one joyful step, one day at a time, focusing on gratitude, to loosen ourselves from the stuckness—to take heart.

Beware and Be Aware...

“Never think that a small action done to your neighbor is not worth much. It is not how much we do that is pleasing to God, but how much love we put into the doing.” -Saint Teresa of Calcutta

 

Beware and Be Aware... By: Mary Beth Rice

As a volunteer with Launch Leadership in the summer, I am blessed to spend a week with 18-year-old humans who hold so much space in their hearts for hope and creativity and how they might be world changers in all of it. We write mission statements and share pieces of our lives with each other—the dreams we have for ourselves and others. We go out into the community and do service projects. We explore our passions and learn about differences and commonalities, pondering how we might collaborate to make our world a better place.

 As delegates embark on their last year of high school, I have loved introducing the concept of living in the “unknown.” I learned of this notion when reading Melody Beattie’s book, 52 Weeks of Conscious Contact. Entering the unknown happens at important moments in our lives; the varied life transitions where we find ourselves on a blank page, sometimes in a place of fear. Experiences in which we flounder, run or walk mindfully through—choosing the latter is best but sometimes, quite frankly, I am stumbling in a fog or racing to get past some piece of life of which I am unsure or fearful. Graduating from high school is certainly one of these transitions as is marriage, losing a love one, moving to another city, having children, changing careers, and working through cancer.

Beattie explains that some cultures “honor and revere that mysterious place called the Unknown. Native American culture and Buddhism teach people to beware and be aware of it...it is a powerful time when forces are working hard to help us create the new.” So here we all are, paused and on hold, the future uncertain with COVID-19.

Beware. Be aware...of what may transpire.

I know...Beware of people and socially distance myself. Beware of touching my face or door knobs or any foreign surface. Beware of a fever, dry cough or shortness of breath. Beware of the ramifications of not washing my hands or protecting those around me, especially the elderly. Beware of running out of toilet paper or accidentally  “going in for a hug” when near a loved one. I get it!  But in this unknown place, changing hour by hour, I also hope to beware of letting fear control me; of being consumed with worry and “glass half empty” thinking. I want to beware of projecting some dark future rather than staying mindful and present.

 I’d rather focus on being aware.  The awareness of the sacred quiet in the morning before anyone else is awake, the crisp chilly wind in my face when riding my bike, the gratitude in my mom’s voice when I call to chat...the peace I feel inside when I make time to pray. These are moments that make me feel grateful and hopeful.

I want to be aware of how my son is feeling while being what seems like a zillion miles away from the rest of us; of a neighbor who might be needing some extra support—even if it is just a gallon of milk dropped at her doorstep.  I want to notice how relaxing it feels to step into a  good book or how intoxicating it is to smell Gram Bea’s chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. (see Joymaking for full proof recipe!)  I want to take in the lightness I feel after cleaning out another messy drawer, grasping for some sense of order in my life.

Now is a great time to reflect on what matters most in our lives and what matters least.  As we practice isolation and step away from society, can we pause and consider what we can do in this moment wholeheartedly? Can we be aware of the very thing that might be of service or bring joy and hope to our families? Our co-workers? Our neighbors? Can we set an intention to connect with and encourage those near and far?

In this universal unknown, may we all be aware of something we can wholeheartedly create, do, or share with another—with great love—six feet away, of course!

Creating Holy Moments in an Upside-Down World

“There will be fabulous joy in the journey, as well as heart-wrenching pain...Life is difficult and messy: there is no point trying to mask that or pretend otherwise. But every situation you encounter is in need of one thing: a holy moment.” -Matthew Kelly, taken from Rediscover the Saints



Creating Holy Moments in an Upside-Down World By: Mary Beth Rice

“Scatter Joy” is written on a plaque on my desk. It caught my eye as I looked out the window to view the super-sized snowflakes tumbling out of the bright gray sky—Did I not share last week my hope of one more “summer snowman” worthy snow?! Thank you, God, for this beauty and lightness.   

It is an early Saturday morning—the one after the week that turned us all on our heads; COVID-19 has thrown us all a curve ball with unknowns rolling out in surreal fashion. I feel as if the  earth has stopped spinning on its axis and the pause button has been pushed on the TV remote. We are all wondering what to do or not do with our next breath.

My 19 year-old son’s campus room contents has landed in our foyer, the hand sanitizer has a new central location on the kitchen island, my mom’s retirement facility is on lockdown and my sister is quarantined to her home because of exposure to a work colleague who may have been exposed to someone who may have been exposed to someone that has this damn virus?! No doubt, more changes, postponements, cancellations and suggested new ways of daily living will be coming.

All of this brings to mind how we hold space for one another.  I am contemplating new ways of loving and communicating with the people in my life.  I love to hug and hold hands. How do we replace the physical touch and that type of intimacy with words,  facial expressions...with mindful presence? Is this current situation an opportunity to deepen our human connection or a threat to ensure despair and loneliness? The answer is in our own choosing...

I sit in my flannel PJs, cup of coffee in hand, cats curled  up in front of the fire, seemingly cozy and safe in my family-room cocoon.  I offer up a prayer for those who don’t have this feeling of safety—false as it might be—and I wonder how we can take this stepping back from the world around us to make it somehow better, more loved. Instead of a focus on isolating to stay safe, to disconnect, to keep away, can we use the time of quiet stillness to pray, to reflect, to be creative in sharing  joy and encouragement to others? How can we scatter some joy to offer some hope and lightness, diluting some of the fears and anxiety we all share?

In Matthew Kelly’s book, The Biggest  Lie in the History of Christianity, he  challenges us to create “holy moments” in our daily round and defines them as moments when we are united with our God, connected to our Spirit.   Holy moments can be prayer, the awareness of a beautiful moment in nature, a random act of love or kindness...a mindful loving conversation with a friend.

I find holy moments sitting on my back porch in that brief time before the sun comes up, watching the ever so gradual lightening of the sky. It is in breathing in the fresh air after a rainstorm or in listening to the cardinals chatting as they wake that those holy moments soothe me. I can create holy moments when I make time to text an inspirational quote or prayer  to my family to begin our day,  send a note of encouragement to a friend who is struggling, share a jar of homemade something or treat someone to some flowers. (See Joymaking for a simple idea to spread some love with spring flowers!)

My friend, Pat, beautifully wrote on his Facebook page:  “Write through it, express yourself, bring hope and vulnerability to the moment. Help others to embrace the solitude that is upon us. Look to nature for inspiration. Turn off the TV and turn on your creativity!” He reminds us that despite the practice of social distancing, we can be united in hope and “in sharing the experience of the human condition, knowing we still rely deeply on each other to thrive.”

I am committed to the mission of  scattering joy in the simplest of ways. I adopt it as my new mantra and hope some of you may write it on your hearts too!

“The great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.” -Madeleine L'Engle

Growing Young…

By: Mary Beth Rice

My son, Jack, shared his perspective on “growing up” the other day. He prefers to use the term “progressing” when describing his maturation, so he doesn’t feel like he has to give up or let go of pieces of his past—experiences from his childhood. He wants to hold all of what makes him Jack,  together in one space—in his present day 23-year old self. I smile to myself because I have a journal full of “Jack-isms” from toddlerdom to adulthood, ensuring the capture of his unique humor and logic. This declaration is certainly  journal-worthy! 

His thought resonates with one of my favorite children’s authors,  Madeleine L’Engle, who once said that “the great thing about getting older is that you don’t lose all the other ages you’ve been.” She suggests in this string of thought that if we lose any part of ourselves, we are diminished—marveling that we could, in fact, be three, sixteen or fifty-seven simultaneously. She argued that retaining a child’s awareness and joy allows us to “really learn what it means to be a grownup.” 

Imagine fist pumps and Halleluiahs to the sky!  I will hang on that thought for the rest of my life!  Of late, my mind has been consistently transfixed on the word JOY.  That is what this sight for musing, pondering and sharing will be about. The recollection and reflection of past experiences, the current state of affairs and the hope for the future—all connected with a focus on joy, infused perhaps with an insight or challenge. Thoughts laced with childlike wonder. We have, after all, too much heaviness in our midst, don’t we? I admit to being a bit too adult-ish at times in my childhood, so I am more than OK with time spent being child-ish in my adulthood. Friends—Let’s switch up the focus!

As this new decade has been rolling out, I have felt SOOO many ages! When home to help my mom struggling with Parkinson’s, I feel 15 again, running into the parents of childhood friends. In contrast, my 8-year-old self recently spent time in the back yard on an unusually balmy winter  afternoon, rolling up our annual “Summer Snowman” —three foil covered balls, readying for hibernation in the basement deepfreeze until the specified  hot summer day. (Make your own Summer Snowman! See Joymaking)

Another example of feeling several ages simultaneously has been in holding space for family friends whose husband and father recently passed away from brain cancer.  He was so young, and my fifty-something self has empathy for his wife and for my mom, who lost her own husband at 59. Yet, instead of looking at this situation only through the heart of a spouse, I suddenly feel 30 again, watching and waiting with my own dad as he passed in similar fashion. Emotions and memories flood back. I recall the sleepless nights on the faux leather hospital bench outside dad’s hospital room, keeping vigil, and then being in that thin sacred space with my parents and brother when dad moved on.  

I see the heartache in our friends’ faces and I am a child again, losing a father. Yet, at the same time, I look at my own four children and see reflections of my lost loved ones, the gentle nuances, and I feel less heartache and more joy, less sadness and more peace. So, it is—in being many ages at one time. 

In this emotional shifting from one age to the next, do we transform into someone all together new or are we parts and pieces of who we have always been?  Is it both the heartache and joy that makes us who we are, keeping us in balance? I wonder. Life is pretty amazing. Creating joy, noticing joy, CHOOSING joy and sharing joy with others does take some focus…and delightfully so, especially amidst heartache and struggle. 

 Let’s get to it! Let’s be makers of joy one moment at a time.