The Story Midwife

Friendships and Summer Days

We had out-of-town visitors this weekend. Jodi and Joel and their three aDORable children, Claire, Maya and Koen, graced us with their presence. We first met shortly after Richard and I moved to Minneapolis (while pregnant with Sammy) during a visit to an interfaith church that met at a Buddhist meditation center in South Minneapolis. Jodi and Joel had the token children in the congregation; I was growing a swimming child inside me. Seemed only natural that we'd hook up. We attended there only a short time, then moved on to a UCC church, but kept in touch with Jodi and Joel. In fact, Jodi and I officed in the same building before we found ourselves back in Iowa. (THAT's a story for another post...)

As I gussied myself up for our double date (grown-ups only -- Joel and Jodi's kids are of babysitting age so the kids all stayed home and ate pizza and watched movies), I thought about all the wonderful guests we've hosted this summer. It's a pretty impressive list. And I am so grateful! Then I got to thinking that I this has perhaps been the best summer of my adult life. Really, it's been that good. I attribute that to a good number of things. Not the least of these reasons is being connected with fabulous friends. So here's a great big bow and a juicy smoochy to you all. Thank you so much for the ways you bless my life.

This is also my first summer blogging. And it's been dandy. So thanks, too, to all (three or so) of you who read, comment, and email. It's such a treat.

I know you're dying to know how the stillness / movement commitments are going. In a word, SWELL!  I've meditated and moved every day since Wednesday. Today the two families went creek stomping at (where else?) Backbone State Park. I'm preparing to do a bit of yoga (to stretch out those creek stoming legs) and breathe quietly now.

Before I go, will you share how this summer has been for you? What's been your biggest lesson/insight/event? And who has journeyed with you?

Cheers!

Nova Luna

1. 

"What we sow on the new moon, we reap on the full moon."  Lisa Dale Miller

Yesterday was the New Moon.

If you've been hanging around here much, you know that my 5-year old son, Sammy, and I have a passion for the woods.  On one trip to the state park a few miles from our front door I stopped and looked very closely at a thin-trunked, sideways-growing tree above a cave.  This tree piqued my curiosity and somehow beckoned me in the way only a tree can.  I went to it and simply touched it and leaned into it.  Even with its skinny trunk I sensed it could hold me up.  It did.  We communed.  I'm not sure on the particulars of this, mind you.  I just know we had a conversation.  In that moment I knew I wanted to bring women to these woods.  And I knew I wanted to do it on the new moon, the Nova Luna.  Well.  I went right home and got to work.  Poked (pokily) around in Photo Shop until I scrapped together a banner. Whipped up an Emma newsletter to spread the news to the cool women I know in Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin.  Sent off the news to the world. Welcome Nova Luna!!

I delightedly shared yesterday's new moon with two beautiful women whom I've known in very different capacities for many years, but whom have never met.  We circled-in together in the grass -- wrote, drew, sang, drummed, read poetry, caught falling leaves in our hair.  We hiked over tree roots, marveled at the beauty, stepped over centipedes, breathed deeply. We munched on a simple picnic lunch and talked about what's unfolding in our lives.

Lisa Dale Miller, an astrologer whose work I've enjoyed for a few years, says we reap on the full moon what we first sow on the new moon.  While I don't know much about astrology (I most definitely am not an astrology buff, and I don't live my life by the occasional newspaper horoscopes I skim through for entertainment), I do so resonate with the language of phases, cycles, turnings.  In this way the moon is my sister, and I love her seasons.  I am a woman, and I have my own seasons.  It seems naturally sweet to recognize and honor how both play together.  And I have found that when I am in tune with what is happening in the moon phases, I am more in tune with me. Not a bad thing, folks.

Lisa says that this new moon is about the body.  Um, well, no surprise there: it's been a topic ever-present on my mind.  I invited us all to explore the ways the stories of this season of life are being played out and prayed out in our bodies. 

Near the end of the day together we all spent some time in solitude.  I sat on a blanket crafted by Grandma Lu, Richard's paternal grandmother, and meditated.  I found my body longing, longing, longing for two things:

1. More movement.
2. More stillness.

I am deeply nourished by spiritual practices of sitting meditation and yoga.  However, I'll be a fly in a pickle jar if they are not the first damn things to go when life gets crazy.  And life has been crazy.  And we're moving into a more bustling touring season of autumn.  It's not an unlikely possibility that it may get a wee bit crazier. Sigh.

I'm interested in inviting more compassion into my life, and NOT more Nazi rigidity. OR calling myself bad names when I am unable to stick to one of my many plans for how to bring more balance to my life. So I'm keeping my commitments to myself simple:  To move my body at least once a day, and to sit in silence at least once a day.  I will consider this commitment honored if I do both for even a few minutes daily.   

So, how's it going?  Well, it's been only one day, but so far so good.  Richard and I walked Abby the Midwife Dog (more about her in an upcoming post, by the way) after we kissed Sammy goodbye and sent him on his way up the school bus steps (he's LOVING kindergarten -- thanks for all the check-ins asking how he/we is/are!).  At Sammy's request we took a little family stroll after dinner, and just now I did some yoga asanas and 20 minutes of sitting meditation.  I feel damn good.

I'm curious.  What commitments would you make to your body today?  What ways is your body asking you to care for, partner with, tend to your life?

While you ponder I will treat my body to my favorite bed on the planet (my own) next to my favorite man on the planet (again, my own). After I wake Sammy up to go potty, that is.

Smooches and sweet dreams to you!

First Day of Kindergarten

Well, kids. It's time for Kindergarten.

EGAD!  I can hardly believe my little boy is a school-ager now.  Today is the first day of school in our school district.  While grades 1-12 start back with a full day, the wee ones of the district have a bit of a gentler entry.  Today Richard, Sammy and I will trek out to the school for a 20 minute visit with Sammy's new teacher.  We'll find his coat hook, cubby, and desk.  We'll explore the halls a bit more, find the bathrooms, and get a greater feel for the place. 

Sammy's pumped.  I just overheard him tell Richard, "Dad, I think it's about time for me to get on the bus."  Though we've had the conversation multiple times that today is NOT the first school bus day, he's not quite ready to relinquish the dream that his bus just might pull up to the front door and welcome him up the steps.  It's very sweet.

How is Mama?  Well, Mama's nervous.  We had so hoped that he would be attending a Waldorf school.  Trouble is, there is only one in Iowa and it happens to be 1.5 hours away.  Not gonna happen.  I've rolled around and around in my head and my heart on if public school is where I want my boy to go.  It was just a few weeks ago that Richard and I officially decided NOT to home-school him.  For now, that is. 

Several months ago one of my clients told me the story of an African woman who was born, raised, and initiated into her African village.  Originating in that sort of community I would expect that such a woman would admonish us Americans for lack of community and multi-generational guidance in our children's lives.  Nope.  Rather she said that in America we are so afraid to let our children go.  We hold on. We have a hard time releasing.  "Let them go!", she says. 

This story struck me.  I AM frightened to release my son to the world.  (And for good reason, I think.)  What would happen if I trusted him. Trusted myself. Trusted our family.  Xeborah reminded me that we are family that buries placentas, for goodness sake, and he won't forget that when he goes off to school. 

I'm finding this to be one true thing about Motherhood:  It is an ever unfolding dance of RELEASE.

So today I release my son into his own 5-year old fullness. I will trust him, trust our family, trust the universe as his world expands, and as he makes his way in the world just a little bit more.

Yay for you, Sammy. 

Ahhhh-Ohmmmm

It's been a wee bit crazy around here (she says in her best Scottish accent).

The month-long stretch from the last couple of weeks in July through the first couple of weeks in August are finding me and my family away from home more than we are at home.  And it's beginning to feel a bit wild here in the Big Strawberry.

In addition, Richard, my Beloved partner, is running even more circles than I. He's barely had time to park his sweet little head on the pillow next to mine before driving, running, or flying his very becoming backside away from the house.  This means Sammy and I get LOTS of time together.  Usually a very nice thing, but...

I'm a raging introvert.  I know, I know. Hard to believe if you have seen me perform.  And besides, what introvert picks music performance and up-front leadership as a way of life?  Well, I did.  And do.  Last Saturday I realized just WHY I was feeling so dang cranky and blastedly impatient: I've had NO TIME ALONE in weeks and weeks and weeks.  Not so good for my mental stability or desired sunny disposition, I tell you.

I've also recognized that I'm not practicing my usual spiritual practices.  This also throws me for a loop real quick.  With my crazier-than-usual, no-time-alone schedule I've needed to find some ways to integrate spiritual practice into the every day.  NOT a new idea, but I've gotten a little sidetracked.  Want to know my most basic, carnal spiritual practice this week?  Going to the bathroom when I have to go.  Trust me, this is HUGE for me.  I'm the queen of waiting to the last minute.  (And waiting to the last minute POST-vaginal childbirth is more exciting than PRE-vaginal childbirth...).  It's my small, sanitary way of listening to what my body needs; of responding to what is right before me; of holding myself in compassion in one tiny, whispery sort of a way. Another way to say it? I'm un-clenching.  Literally.

I think it's working. Tonight I gave myself permission to do luscious yoga and meditate.  Now I'm checking in with the blog and sipping a glass of naughty French wine.  In a few moments I will descend the stairs to lounge on the couch with my three cats and watch some TV. 

So do share: how do you unclench your life?  What practices remind you to pray with the carnal and ordinary?

Love, love, and more,
Story Midwife

The Shape of a Mother

Oooh, ooh!  I'm so excited!  I've just discovered this new blog and I AM IN LOVE. Please go take a look at this site and encourage Bonnie in her fabulous efforts. 

It's been a Big Day of thinking about bodies -- MY body in particular.  Finding this site feels like such a gift.  So go on over and visit.  Have I mentioned that I LOVE IT?!!!

Home again, home again, tiddley pum.

Hola! I'm back in the blogging saddle.

My family and I have been gallivanting all over the Midwest the last few weeks. I've had no idea where to begin writing so I've avoided blogging. This doesn't mean, however, that I have nothing to say. I am the Story Midwife, after all, and my story pouch is bulging.

And I think that's where I'll leave it for tonight. Well, maybe I will confess to you that I ate three pieces of peace pie tonight.  Yup, three. And oh Sweet Mother, it was the best peach pie I'd ever eaten. I'm not kidding. It's luscious sweetness literally melted in my mouth. (Where can you get such a divine treat? It was homemade by Barbara Horns in her licensed home kitchen just South of Decorah, Iowa. I sometimes treat myself to her goodies that we purchase through our network of local organic farmers, Grown Locally.) So yes, I gobbled up three pieces. I would have had more, except I caught a glimpse of most of my nearly-naked body in the mirror this afternoon and cringed. That memory kept me from pieces number four, five, and six. Maybe seven, too. 

Perhaps an entry on food and bodies is in order. I've been thinking about it for weeks. It seems to be a topic at hand, as several other blogs that I regularly visit are also body blogging.

On that note I really WILL head to bed. I'll be snuggling in with Sammy tonight. He asked to sleep with me as Richard is away at a UCC Musicians Network Conference in Chapel Hill, NC. Wish me sweet dreams.