listening party

Last Friday we had about thirty people over of all ages to listen to music.

We played them Annabel's newly recorded track.
We played them three of Sky's new songs.
We played them several songs from Gary's new album.

We gave them lyric sheets so they could follow along.

And then we served apple pie, ice cream cones, cookies, nuts and chai.

Everyone loved the songs and I hope you will too.  I will be sharing them here and elsewhere.

reminisce, 2003 and march musings

Shawn is a baby, Annabel is just five years old, 

Sky is seven.  A lifetime ago.

Today Shawn is nine, going on ten, Annabel is fourteen, Sky is sixteen.  Daddy took them to the movies and shopping while I stayed home nursing a head cold. I did manage to make a pot of soup, clean the upstairs of the house, and dust the piano, but I also took some time to rest and make a collage, which was really fun.  I love to cut out phrases and words that inspire me, as well as images.  To me it's kind of lazy man's art, and yet it is as satisfying as a day of painting.  The two younger ones went to a movie by themselves while Dad walked around the mall with Sky, finally buying her skinny jeans and a tee shirt at Pac Sun, which is a very cool store in case you didn't know.

After some time they all came home and Dad took a break.  Annabel and Shawn played Sumdog, which is a math video game that I occasionally allow, despite the video game ban that we have continued, and our kids are no worse for the wear from.  I helped Sky clean and organize her room, something she enjoys doing, but only with me.  On the floor I found a piece of paper, in Gary's handwriting titled, "Songs Sky is Going to Write."  It had fallen from her folder of songs.  Years ago in 2003, when Sky was seven and beginning to write songs, she dictated her future song titles to her dad, who wrote them down for her in her song book:

Sailboat Sail
There's Nothing Better than Hearing a Skylark Sing
Song of the Beauty
7 is my Favorite Number
My Daddy is the Best

Now Annabel is taking a walk and the redheads are playing tennis in the driveway, because I told them they needed to go outside and get some fresh air. Time to check the soup.

annabel's first recording

Annabel was given the opportunity to record a song she recently wrote.  A couple of months ago Gary's engineer came with his wife for dinner and Annabel played the song for them.  The engineer loved it so much he offered to give her a free hour in the studio, dovetailed with one of Gary's sessions. This is the result.  The song is titled, "Shadow."

a little excitement

Gary just signed a contract for another re-release of his third album, "Thoughts of Why!"  It is the same record company in Japan, called Stella, that re-released his second album, "Upon Oanda's Wing," last summer.

Pretty cool.

silence

A little over a year ago I began meditating every day, determined to make the time to do it consistently. I have missed a day here or there, but for the most part I have sat for thirty minutes each day.

I learned the practice eight years ago when the children were younger and life was constantly busy.  I do recall the few times I did meditate, headaches would disappear, I would have wonderful dreams, or I would feel really peaceful afterwards.  Still, it wasn't until last year that I decided to be disciplined about practicing daily.  

Meditation is described as something that is practiced because it is practice for life. There are numerous opportunities every day to practice what one gains from meditation.  Modern medical research is now showing what the ancients have known for thousands of years, that meditation changes our physiology. By sitting daily with the intention of breathing peacefully in silence, I have changed from within.  I have developed a keener awareness of my mind and my negative tendencies, of which there are plenty.  I have developed more patience, a calmer attitude, a better sense of humor, more perspective and detachment.  My meditation teacher says do not underestimate the subtle progress you are making.  My goal is to be able to have a steady mind at all times, despite my external experiences.  I still have far to go, but I have had glimpses, moments of something different, a sense of humor, something that feels like peace, even in chaos.

Since regular meditation, I feel that my nervous system is calmer.  I am more comfortable with silence.   In fact I went away a couple of months ago and was able to experience lots of silence, for several days in a row.  And I found that instead of feeling lonely or feeling I needed to fill the silence with something, I loved the silence.  The silence filled me.

That was such a beautiful surprise.

mahog

I've been thinking a lot about the passage of time.  What changes, what stays the same.  Our kids are growing up right before our eyes.  The teen years make this very real.  So much more independence now.  Last weekend the girls went out in our town for several hours on their own for the first time.  They shopped, they went out to lunch, they shopped some more.  They stayed in touch via cell phone.  They had a great time and did fine.

It's a bit of a let go for me, trusting that they are safe.  It's a bit hard for me. They are my babies.  But they are not my babies.  They are young women. Still, they are my babies.

The Hebrew word mahog came to us in a dream some years ago.  Mahog, the passage of time.  Like the hands on a clock.  We are all each others' little mahogs.  We are here to remind each other of so many things.

practice

There's something really special about being on a team.

Shawn has three great baseball coaches this year, all fathers, all friends, all encouraging to the boys.
So wonderful.  Regardless of how they do as a team Shawn will gain a lot from this experience, all because of the coaches.

corner view~synchronicity

These two boys were born to different mothers within a month of one another. They now live in the same small town.  They both have red hair and brown eyes and are often mistaken for one another.  They met when they were babies. I saw a woman holding a baby who looked so much like my son, we both just stared at one another.  They went to preschool together.  At age nine, they are now on the same baseball team!

What a sweet friendship.  They are two peas in a pod.

i love baseball

Gary the ump

Shawn in the dugout with the Pirates 

The girls spent the night at friends' houses and so when we awoke this morning it was just Gary, Shawn and me.  Around 8:30 Gary and I took Shawn to play baseball at our local park.  We practiced throwing, fielding and hitting.  We all took turns but we let Shawn hit the longest.  He blasted quite a few balls, some into the outfield.  He also pitched to his dad, which he loves to do.  This is his first year playing on a baseball team, and he has had two practices.   I think he has found his sport.

After we had played for a couple of hours we decided to go watch a game in another field, where adult teams were warming up.  We heard they were the two best teams in the league from one of their competitors, a burly guy with curly red hair sticking out from his baseball cap.  Shawn watched the men closely, his freckled face right up to the fence.  "They are so good!" he exclaimed, as the guys threw pitches I could never dream of hitting.

Then before we left we decided to go to yet another field to let Shawn hit a few more balls.  It's hard to stop, it's so much fun.  After some time one of the players ran over to Gary.  The umpire hadn't shown up and he asked Gary if he would be willing to officiate the game.  Gary agreed and within minutes my husband was out there, "umping."  They let him stand behind the pitcher because they had no protective gear for him.  He had a blast.  The players were respectful and all good sports.  It was a great game and I so enjoyed watching.  It has been a long time since I've seen a ballgame.

In another month I will be watching my son, behind sunglasses.  And I expect when he walks to the plate for the first time, my eyes might tear up a bit.        

grandpa

Sky makes red Sauce, with a blur of Shawn

My grandfather had a saying he used to tell my dad when my dad was a young father. "Paul," he would say, "when you own a home, your work is never done. It's just one round of enjoyment after the next."
I feel the same way about family life.  But I would not have it any other way.

happy birthday annabel, 14

A parent sees and remembers a child for all that they are.  The chubby babbling inquisitive baby whose catch phrase was 'ut-oh," the quiet toddler who sat at my side happily humming to herself during playdates at the park, never leaving my side, the crooked tooth little girl, learning to read, devouring books, asking questions about the meaning of life, the preteen performing songs for me from the Sound of Music, every night for a week in her room before bed.  And then one day, it seems, you turn around for one second, and when you turn back, there she is.

A young woman.

visit with swami, back home

I am so grateful that our children know this wonderful, kind, giving, patient, humble man who goes wherever he is asked to help people whether it's Haiti, India, or New Orleans.  Who travels around the U.S. inspiring people, who sleeps little, who prays over the food, who cooks for us, who has a great sense of humor, and who loves my kids.

I am so grateful that I got to spend a week with him.  I always learn so much, mostly by observing him.

He told a group of people a story that really affected me.  When he first joined the ashram in India, everyone was assigned seva (selfless service).  He was given the job of cleaning the cowshed.  He was a learned filmmaker and had just graduated from the most prestigious film school in India.  He figured he would be asked to help with photography or video.  He figured it would be an important job.  He figured he would be given the perfect camera to work with.  Needless to say he was annoyed to be relegated to the position of a farm worker.

He hated the seva.  One day he decided he wasn't going to milk the cows.  He wasn't going to clean the shed.  He was just going to meditate.

So he sat down and closed his eyes.

Soon he heard a rustling noise.  He opened his eyes and found Amma herself feeding and milking the cows.  She scolded him, saying that the animals were hungry and uncomfortable, and counting on someone to take care of them.  She wouldn't let him help.  Every time he tried she shooed him away.  He felt horrible and ashamed, watching Amma do all the work.  But true to Amma's ways, she was teaching through her example.

The next day he went back to the cowshed and did his seva with gusto.  Every day thereafter he went and took care of the animals, feeding them, milking them, cleaning their stalls.  He began to really love the animals.  He began to love cleaning the cowshed.  He began to really love his seva. 

And that was the beginning of his life as a monk.

A week after hearing that story I began to see my seva as a wife and mother differently.  I was a little burned out.  I had a girl who had been helping me clean but she stopped coming in December.  The kids had been on school break and returned while I was on retreat.  I was feeling overwhelmed at getting all of the work done once the kids were back in school, worried I would have no free time for myself.  Housework, cooking, cleaning, dishes, laundry, vacuuming, taking the trash and recycling and compost out...for a mother the work can feel endless.  But there was work to be done.  So I began deep cleaning the house, one room at a time.  I wiped baseboards.  I rearranged drawers in the kitchen.  I cleaned out closets and got rid of stuff we don't need.  I put out small vases of flowers.   I began taking my house back.  And Gary is now folding all of the laundry.  The kids are pitching in more.  For me, every day of seva is so enjoyable.  I try to enjoy it all, whether it's things I love, like gardening, or things I don't enjoy, like dishes.  Somehow it all feels more like the same to me.  If I am in a good mood, and singing to myself, it doesn't matter what I am doing.  And every room I clean makes me feel so good, so accomplished.  The house is being loved, and the house seems happy.  And no one will love it like we will.        

part two of the retreat that seems so long ago

On the third day the sun came out.  After breakfast and meditation, we went to the beach and walked and swam.  Then we all went out to lunch.  I got Thai food.  I walked around the gardens on the property, snapping a few photos.  We ate a wonderful Indian dinner prepared by a group of ladies.  That evening there was a public program with an inspirational talk and devotional songs, up in the room I was sleeping in.  I was settling into my solitude and could feel my quiet heart.

On the forth day I slept in.  Then I took a walk in the neighborhood with my friend Lucy and her dog, Shama.  The area reminded me of a place I once lived.  Some of the group went to the beach, a different one this time.  We went out for lunch.  Then we went for smoothies and stopped off at a sustainable farm where we did an informal tour.  That day I thought about integrity, and peace, and stilling the mind.  The mind, the mind, the mind... is it ever still?  Maybe for a few seconds.  The evening ended with another public spiritual program.  I ran the mini bookstore both nights and sold some items, which was fun.  All of the profits go to humanitarian charities.  At ten o'clock we ate yet another dinner prepared by the same group of ladies.  

On the fifth day I packed my bags and had my final breakfast of toast, ghee, honey.  Fresh squeezed tangerine juice mixed with whey powder to make a frothy smoothie.  A quick meditation and it was time to pack the cars and trucks and head to the airport.  But first we stopped off for lunch at the Thai place, coming full circle.

What a beautiful trip.  What a beautiful gift I was able to give myself, a place to return to year after year.  Thanks G and my kids and Bill and Lucy and Swami for making it happen.

retreat

I had the most restful and longest and quietest retreat ever.  I was spoiled and taken care of by so many people.  Everywhere I went people were feeding me or treating me out for lunch.  I went away with two friends from home to join a bigger group.  I left home with a bad back that wouldn't give and after four nights and five days away I came home rested and pain free.  That was just one of the many gifts of this time away.

The first day we flew in and met up with five more people (including Swami) in a tiny tropical airport.  I rode in the jump seat of a truck with some bananas, a large rare, spiky skinned ripe fruit, a small paint can, some luggage.  The men in the front seat discussed business and I looked out the window, quiet.  I was so happy.  We went out for delicious Thai food.  Swami was quiet except for when he told a great story about a mongoose and selflessness and pure-heartedness that I am writing down for our children.  When we arrived at the house where we were staying it was raining.  It rained the entire day.  I loved it.  Everywhere the plants were glistening.  I wore pants and socks and a sweatshirt the entire day.   I made people tea, and helped the ladies cook.  When the rain stopped, a glorious full rainbow appeared in the sky, and stayed for a long time.  Every day I had plenty of time for my meditation, and did it in a beautiful large room where I stayed by myself.  There were so many people in the group that seven of them rented a house nearby.  Since the huge room I was in was usually reserved for women's quarters, and I was the only woman guest, I got the entire room to myself.  The property I stayed on has a several acre botanical garden.  

The second day was a rest day with no programs.  It rained and I stayed inside.  I didn't mind at all.  For breakfast I had bread with homemade ghee and honey from the property's local hives.  I helped make lunch.  We made Mexican food with cooked peppers, onions, and the best guacamole ever.  I did some yoga, I talked to a friend on the phone, I talked to my family via Skype and I took a long nap.  We all had dinner at the group's house around the corner.  Ajitha, a woman from India, who told me she didn't cook much, was in charge of dinner. The. Best. Indian. Food. Ever.  One more person flew in and our group was complete.  Fourteen people, my lucky number.   

I was very quiet these first two days.  I took advantage of the opportunity to talk less, with fewer demands on me and my time.  I was in a houseful of people, in a large group.  I was very quiet, quieter than I have maybe ever been.  It was great. 

the bostick boys visit

Some old friends visited for a few days.  Although they stayed in a nearby hotel we fit in many hours of fun together including lots of beach time and boogie boarding, hanging in the pool and hot tub, meals in, meals out, storytelling, music played (by all five kids - it was very cool to see other kids who write songs!) and lots of laughter.

hello new year!

I think it's going to be a good one.