Micromanaging Miracles

Yesterday as we were getting ready to leave for church, my spouse commented on my blog piece about Martha, whose feast day was Saturday.  He said, "I really like the way you talked about micromanaging the miracles.  Is that idea original to you?"

I said, "I wouldn't be surprised if someone else has also come up with it, but I didn't get it from anywhere else."

He said, "You should write a book with that title."

"I should figure out if I've already written a book where that title could apply."

I've since been thinking of my long-neglected collection of essays that is part memoir and part devotional meditation.  One of the things that long stymied me was finding a good title.  Perhaps now I have found one!

I went back this morning to make sure that I used the essay about Saint Martha that used that idea, and I did.  I'm trying not to beat myself up for how many years I've been working on this project.

I have so many book-length works, and so little progress towards publication.  I remind myself that it's not for lack of trying--although I do get to a certain point, often after 15-20 unsuccessful submissions, where I am too discouraged to keep going.  And yes, I know all about the works of literature that were submitted so many more times, only to be published to eventual success.  I also know of many more equally worthy works who have never found publication.
 
I don't feel as discouraged about submitting smaller pieces, like the individual poem or short story.  Is it because I am less invested?  No one ever expects to be able to leave their day job after a poem is published.  But most people I know who write have dreams of being able to leave their other work so that they can devote themselves to creative work.

Maybe it's time to start thinking about an alternate approach to submissions.  I tend to make a submission here or there during down times during the day--maybe I should also submit larger works.  I know I don't want to self-publish--I'd like a mainstream publisher who already has some resources, especially in terms of distribution, in place.

As we head into autumn, let me think about my goals, just to make sure that I'm still on trajectories that can serve me well.

Sleeping In

July is coming to an end with a week-end of sleep.  On Friday, I fell asleep at 7:30--I just couldn't hold my eyes open any longer.  I got up at 3 a.m., but crawled back into bed an hour later and slept until 8:30.  Yesterday we took a nap, but still were in bed by 8:00 a.m.  Yes, July has left us exhausted.

It's not like we've gotten nothing done.  We got the cottage back into shape after a week of hosting the camp counselors.  We did several loads of laundry and took quilts/afghans back to the cedar chest in the main house.  A week ago, I spent an afternoon taking things like food, dish soap, kitchen towels, and such out to the cottage--yesterday, I brought them all back.

I had a coupon for $10 off a shoe purchase--since that coupon was only good during the month of July, I went to the store.  In the past, this time of year, I've been able to get a pair of sandals for practically free, and this year was no exception.  The store had a buy one, get one for 50% off, plus I had accumulated an additional discount through a points system that I didn't realize was in effect through these years of shoe buying.  So, for $25, I got 2 pairs of sandals that are suitable to wear to work.

I also bought airline tickets, which is always a much longer process than it should be, as I compare airlines and times and weigh the advantages of being able to choose a seat and to get home earlier and to check a bag if I feel like it and wonder why this all has to cost so much.

We haven't had a week-end of sleep like this in a long, long time.  Part of me feels guilty:  I know that we still have much to do before the month of July is over, by which I mean we're still teaching some summer classes, and my spouse still has some freelance work to get done.  The wise part of me knows that any day when I sleep past 5 a.m. is a day that I really needed the sleep.

Perhaps I shall also take a nap this afternoon!

Saint Martha and Modern Life

Today is the feast day of Saint Martha, one of the few named women of the Gospels.  You may remember her from the story in Luke, where she hustles and bustles with household chores and grows ever more exasperated with her sister Mary, who isn't helping. 

For a theological approach, see this post.  I've written about her frequently through the years.  Today, I want to think about Martha and her lessons for those of us who are trying to carve out a life with more meaning.

At first glance, it's counterintuitive.  Martha is not living a particularly creative life or a life with depth.  How can she?  She's much too busy trying to manage and micromanage.  And therein lies the lesson.

Martha scurries around so much that she can't be present for Jesus. How often are our current lives similar? We often get so consumed by the chores of our daily life that we neglect to make time for what's really important.

Keep in mind that even though the story revolves around women, men are not exempt from this paradigm. All humans must wrestle with the question of how to balance the chores that are necessary to sustain life with the other kinds of nourishment that we need so desperately. Unfortunately, often the chores win.

I can hear some of us shrieking by now: "Yes, but those chores must be done!" Really? Are you sure? What would happen if you didn't vacuum this week? What would happen if you wore your clothes an extra time or two before laundering them? What would happen if you surrendered to the dust?

Jesus tells Martha that she worries about many things, and the implication is that all of the issues that cause her anxiety aren’t really important. It's a story many of us, with our increasingly hectic lives, need to hear again--maybe every day.

We need to be reminded to stay alert. Busyness is the drug that many of us use to dull our senses. For some of us, charging through our to-do lists is a way of quelling the anxiety. But in our busyness, we forget what's really important. We forget to take time to work on the creative aspects of our lives that matter most to us.

Give up one chore this week and use that time to return to an activity that matters.

There's one other story about Martha that gives valuable instruction for those of us struggling to find our creative lives.  We also see Martha at the story of Lazarus, her brother, who has been dead in the grave for several days when Jesus comes.  She is convinced that her brother would still be alive if Jesus had gotten there in time.  And she's worried about the smell when Jesus orders the grave opened.  Here she is, about to witness a miracle, and she's worried about the social niceties.  She wants a miracle, but she wants it on her terms.

I see the same thing in many a creative life.  I've had chapbooks chosen for publication, but I yearn for a book with a spine.  When I get the book with a spine, I expect to yearn for something else yet again.  We live in a time where distribution of words is miraculously easy--and yet I often wish that someone else would do the hard work.

I've seen friends who finally get the book deal, and then they complain over items that seem minor to me, issues of copyediting which baffle me as I watch the battles from the sidelines.  I see so many instances of creative types trying to micromanage the miracles coming their way.

I see similar dynamics in many a person's struggle to discern what's important and what's not--and in larger institutions too.  We see institutions that wish to be larger, while neglecting to rejoice in the relationships that a smaller group encourages.  I see people with an idealized view of family life who cannot relax into the family that actually exists around them.  I know many a person who doesn't appreciate a job until it's gone.

 I have hopes that our lives will follow the model of Martha.  Even though she seems slow to understand the lessons of Jesus, he doesn't get exasperated and send her away.  He continues to try to shape her, gently and insistently.  He tells her that she worries about many things, but that her sister sets a good example.

The sister, Mary, is fully present.  My hope for us all is that we, too, can be fully present to our lives, to that which needs us to bring it into the world.

The Hecticity of the Last Week of July

Some day, perhaps I will wonder why I didn't blog more about politics.  It's been a dizzying time, after all.  I find myself shaking my head and wondering what will come next.  And it's always been something that surprises me and shocks me, just when I think I can no longer be shocked.  I find myself wondering why people can't act like grown ups.

I am most distressed by the attempt to roll back human rights.  Or am I most distressed by how we seem ready to treat the poor?

This morning I'm happy about the defeat of the Senate health care plan, if we can call it a plan.  I know that we will have more gridlock because of it--wait, can we have more, if nothing is getting done anyway?  I don't care--I don't want these folks to take much action.

I find myself having good weeks at work, even as I'm distressed about the national scene.  One of the advantages of a small campus with enthusiastic people is that it's easy to organize events.  This week the moon pies and the eclipse viewing glasses arrived--it's going to be a good August!

I find myself getting ready to enjoy the summer, even as summer seems to be winding down for most people.  This is the last week that our camp counselors are on duty--and in a week or two, they report to campus to get everything ready for the students who will be arriving in mid-August.

I've felt frustrated over my inability to finish writing a short story.  But this week, a poem came to me out of some Facebook posts; I put them on paper, new images came to me, and voila!  A poem.   I was happy.

Today it's off to a conference that's in Ft. Lauderdale, the FAPSC conference.  I'm presenting!  I'll do a workshop that I did at my past school:  Using Haiku to Assess Student Learning.  I am hoping that the technology works, but I have a plan if it doesn't.

But first spin class--time to head out.

Wednesday Highlights: Eclipse Glasses, Good Conversations, and Wonderful Books

Early in the morning, I literally had to put out a fire at work.  That's a bit melodramatic--I had to take the cigarette disposal container apart and dump water on the stinky cigar that was smoking up the doorway.  Still, it was fun to come back inside and declare, "I'm literally putting out fires here!  Who's got another problem for me to solve?"

Far more fun was the arrival of the eclipse viewing glasses.  At first, I was worried they'd been lost, since they'd been delivered on Tuesday, and no one had seen them.  Lo and behold, the package was small enough to fit in the mailbox.

They are the darkest glasses I've ever put on my face:

I thought I might wear them around school to advertise the special eclipse events we have planned, but I literally cannot see a thing with them on my face:

I ordered 60 pairs, since the Aug. 21 eclipse will happen during the day when we have students.  Since an eclipse is a slow moving event, students can share. 

I'm also keeping my eye on a shipment of mini moon pies that should arrive today.  A week before the eclipse we will have an informative event--with mini moon pies!

The afternoon was fairly quiet:  my computer got upgraded to Windows 10.  Two members of Corporate came to bring us our Scantron machine, and we spent a lot of time talking about a variety of school stuff.  It was good to catch up with them.

Last night was a whirlwind evening; it was my night to host dinner for the camp counselors who are down here to lead VBS.  I left work early, but I didn't beat the camp counselors home.  Luckily, I had done a lot of prep work on Tuesday.  They finished up in the cottage, while I put the finishing touches on dinner.

One of them walked in and said, "It smells like Heaven in here!" I'm hoping they'll remember the smell of Heaven and not the unswept floors and the dusty surfaces of my house.

I washed the dishes while the camp counselors walked to the beach--how did I think it was a good idea to have all the pasta topping options that required so many serving dishes?  After they came back, we chatted for a bit before we all went our separate ways.

I finished the night by reading.  I finished American War by Omar El Akkad.  It continued to impress me--I imagine I will continue to think about it through the rest of the summer.  It occurs to me that my summer reading has been bookmarked by scenes of torture:  American War, The Sympathizer and The Underground Railroad all contain torture that’s more graphically depicted than I’m used to. Hmmm.

Earlier in the day, I had written a few lines for a poem, but then the tech guy showed up and I could never got back to the poem.  I read a bit of Jane Hirshfield after finishing American War, and then I returned to the poem.  I like the direction it's headed.  It includes the parched petunias on my porch, the ones I hope are making a comeback, and my poinsettia at work that doesn't realize that we're in the middle of summer, not December (its leaves are making the transition from green to red again!).

Cooking for Six

When I look back on this week, I think I will remember the grocery shopping and the cooking.  We have had a rotating schedule of providing meals for the camp counselors, and by the end of the week, I'll have been responsible for 2 days.

There are 5 camp counselors, so I'm cooking for 6; my spouse is out teaching every weeknight or it would be 7.  I usually have enough ingredients on hand to cook for 2-4 people--6 is a different matter.

Four college age kids, along with a high school counselor in training, and not one is vegetarian or vegan—what is wrong with the youth of today? Just kidding, of course—in a way, it makes it easier to cook for a big group.

One of the counselors can't eat pork and is lactose intolerant.  I don't usually cook much with pork (or with much meat).  But it's interesting to think about all the desserts I usually make and how much they depend on dairy.

On Monday, we had chicken poblano mole, with a black bean and corn salad, and tortillas and tortilla chips. Tonight we’ll have pasta with a variety of toppings: last night I made a tomato sauce, and marinated veggies with mushrooms and without (one counselor looked a bit queasy when I asked if everyone was O.K. with mushrooms). I overbought mushrooms, so I’ll make a mushroom and olive oil sauté. Or they could just top it with grated parmesan romano cheese mix—except for the one who is lactose intolerant.  My spouse made meatballs, which I added to the homemade tomato sauce last night.

We will have leftovers, because I would rather have too much than not enough.  It makes planning for lunches and suppers when we're not hosting the counselors much easier.

We were told that we could give the counselors money so that they could eat out.  But I figured that I'd need to give each one twenty dollars--I can cook for 5 a lot cheaper than $100.

Of course, I'm lucky.  I know how to cook, and I know how to cook for a crowd.  I know how to economize--but even if I didn't, cooking at home for 6 is cheaper than sending 5 kids out for dinner.

Now, to plan for dessert:  leftover brownies made with vegetable oil or make an olive oil citrus cake?  Stay tuned!

Dinner with the Camp Counselors

Last night's dinner with the camp counselors went well.  I was nervous about it, and those of you who are better at these social occasions might wonder why.

I knew it would be just me and the 5 camp counselors for dinner.  I'd have been less nervous if some of the church VBS leaders had tagged along, but they had been working VBS all day, so I understood why they didn't want to make the trek to my house.

I had decided to make chicken with poblano mole sauce.  It's been a success when I've served it before, but it's unusual.  I made a black bean and corn salad to go with it, and I put out tortillas and tortilla chips.  I hoped that people would find enough to eat.

Happily, they loved the chicken.  They took seconds of everything.  We talked about Wednesday's dinner.  I worried that they get pasta too often.  They've been staying in people's houses all summer, and some of them have been doing this for several years, and they said they've never had spaghetti.  So, I will make my pasta with marinated veggies, along with some meatballs in a tomato sauce, and I'll let them decide how to combine it all.

I find it fascinating that I'm making meals for 4 college students and a high school student, and no one is a vegetarian or a vegan.

The item that makes me most nervous about hosting a get together with people I don't know is the question of what we'll talk about.  I needn't have worried.  Our conversation was wide ranging, from all the foods one can deep fry (squares of mac and cheese anyone?) to strange food combinations, like peanut butter on a burger to various camp experiences, some with food, some not.  We spent a lot of time after dinner talking about musical instruments.

The high school student was fascinated by the dulcimer, which I bought for $40, but never taught myself to play.   Actually, it would be more accurate to say I taught myself, but now I don't remember--it was a brief season with the dulcimer. 

By the end of the evening, he played it with a bit of a slide guitar sound.  As always, I'm fascinated by how people play instruments when they've had no training.  What makes some of us frozen with fear, while others explore? And I was intrigued by the fact that all of us can play the ukulele, to some extent.  Is the ukulele becoming more popular?  Or was it just some fluke?  I suspect it has to do with how affordable an instrument it is and how accessible.

They stayed for about an hour and a half after dinner.  We talked not only about musical instruments, but about camp experiences, both the residence camp and the travelling to churches to assist with VBS camps.  I was interested to know what kinds of lodging they'd had.  They've stayed in people's guest rooms mostly, with a sleep sofa here and there.  So our cottage is perfectly fine; in fact, one of them said, "If I was a college student here, I'd love to rent something like this cottage."

As I cleaned up, I tried not to notice all the ways I'd failed to clean my house for them--I was too busy getting the cottage in shape.  I had clean dishes and a clean bathroom, but my floors could use a sweeping, and let's not talk about the dust. 

I decided long ago that I can't keep up the housekeeping standards of a past generation.  But I don't want to let that fact keep me from extending hospitality.  I suspect that most people don't even notice the dust--or they say, "Hey, I'm not the only one who lets the dusting get away from me."

I'd like to have people over more often--but that often requires a feat of scheduling that's beyond me.  So for now, let me be happy to have had this experience--and its reinforcement of my belief that this hospitality is a worthy skill to practice.