Figuring out how I want to be remembered when I'm gone.

The life plan template asks how I want to be remembered by various people and groups of people when I'm gone. And I'm trying to answer that. Here's my progress so far. I welcome feedback.

Rhett: I want Rhett to remember me as having adored him completely. I want him to be able to say that I never asked him to compromise anything that really meant a lot to him, and helped him to see all the things about himself that I adore. I want him to have felt supported whenever he felt vulnerable, and challenged whenever he became dissatisfied but was fearful to attempt or seek change. I want him to remember the ways I cared for him in every aspect of our relationship. I want him to remember lots and lots of shared laughter, tender moments, and times we supported each other through hardship. I want him to remember me as having been a good steward of my role as the mother of his son.

My Children: I want my children to remember that I never imposed any agenda on them for who or what they should be, other than a basic set of core morals, values, and capabilities. I want them to remember me as having consistently modeled those morals and values, even when I thought they weren’t looking. I want them to remember me as having provided them all that they needed in order to grow up and become self-sufficient adults, including plenty of room to fail. I want them to remember my presence at every event that they felt was important at the time, and at every event that they dismissed at the time but would later wish I had attended. I want them to remember that I at least tried to find ways to let them explore their interests, express their talents, and improve themselves. I want my children to remember me as having compartmentalized my own feelings about their feelings effectively, so that they had the emotional safety and freedom they needed to express their emotions freely and to know that I would love and respect them unconditionally. I want them to remember that when I made mistakes or wronged them, that I told them I was sorry and genuinely tried to grow and not to do it again. I want them to remember me as having paid attention to the culture that they were growing up in and to have made wise parenting choices based on that world, as opposed to my outdated recollections of the culture of my own youth. That doesn't mean bending to the will of the culture, necessarily; it just means that I won't pretend that my children live in a time different from their own.)

I'm taking a break from the spouse and children sections for a bit (again, I welcome feedback/ideas/insights), and am now working on how I would want my parents, colleagues, clients, and friends to remember me.

This is a useful exercise! It's really forcing me to think about the ways that my day-to-day interactions shape the whole of who I am. It's not that I'm particularly regretful about the things I say/do; it's that I think I miss a lot of opportunities to become more the person I want to be remembered as, and to create the memories I'd want to leave if I were to die tomorrow. I'll be more mindful for having done this.

Class pictures and life planning.

Daniel had his class picture on Monday. How bizarre is that? He's one! I hope they don't think we're going to buy them. I can't fathom that they captured a cuter face than the one we ave so many good photos of. He was just coming back from being really sick. (His fever reached 105.3!!) Plus, he doesn't just smile for cameras (or photographers) on command. He examines them. He smiles when he's happy, laughs when he's amused or joyful, and examines when he's curious or confused. Monica, whose English is functional but not fabulous said that he was "serious, but normal" in his picture. I'm not sure what that means, exactly.

So, just as I once had an itch to make a baby, I now have an itch to start thinking about my long term career goals and the life Rhett, Daniel, and I want to build together. One tangible marker of this fact is that I am now somewhat interested in owning a home. (The concept always gave me the jitters in the past ... followed by heartburn, if I thought about it much longer than the jitters stage.) What's more, Rhett and I are thinking about settling down in ... of all places ... Siler City.

We never considered this before recently. It's schools are awful, by and large, and we didn't think of it as a place that we could likely find friends and community. But increasingly, that's changing. The historic district is downright charming; and the houses are remarkably affordable compared to anything we could even contemplate around here. We spend lots of time there anyway, since that's where most of our clients are, and it's close enough to Chapel Hill that we could stay connected to our same church and maintain our friendships. That is critical.

So, lest I get too tunnel-visioned, or anxious, I'm playing around with writing a life plan. I found a template on-line that I like. It starts broad and remains values-driven throughout. It starts out with the instruction to visualize one's own funeral. "When you are gone, the only thing left are the memories that you have created. What will people think about as they reflect on their relationship with you and your impact on their life?" It gets concrete further along in the process, but I'm not further along in the process.

So far, it seems like a very useful process.

By the way, click HERE to check out my dad's new blog

An attempt to catch up -- few random memories and images of life these past ... err... months

I know, I know. I've fallen unforgivably silent, and failed to document a million months of parenting wonderfulness and chaos.

To get some perspective, have a glance a the following before and after. (By this, I mean "before" and "after" - aka since - my recommitment to documenting our memories). Note the relationship between the purple "Bumbo seat and the child in/on/beside) it.

Before and
after/since .

It seems that I fell silent mid September of 2008, so this post is a pitiful attempt to catch up.

There was a fun and fabulous trip to Rhett's hometown to give our son some grandparent time. We had a nice time showing him off and around.


We auditioned a range of costumes for Daniel's first Halloween costume, including a witch outfit to celebrate
and a firefighter just because it's cute and our friends had it lying around the house. But ultimately we settled on a yoda costume, loaned by some friends from church whose kiddo, H, wore it the previous Halloween. I laughed and laughed as he crawled around getting the robe tangled under his knees. Here's a photo showing off the tooth he'd sprouted in between auditioning costumes and actually wearing it.

By far the coolest historic event in any of the lives of the Punkie Family was Inauguration Day, 2009. It snowed that day so not too many people made it to our celebration party, but Daniel was dressed up in his so, so fabulous "Yes We Can!" onsie. I've almost gotten the smashed-up carrot stains out of it and it's now hung up on the wall. It's my favorite piece of baby clothing ever. (Yes, we believe in freedom of opinion regarding political issues, but until Daniel develops an opinion, we are shamelessly attempting to indoctrinate him with ours).



Evidently I failed to photograph Christmas and my sister's wedding (oops), but there are photos out there somewhere and I might post them at some point.

On February 8 he turned one. (I'm still in shock!) We threw him a party and asked that folks bring canned goods for the Interfaith Council in lieu of gifts. He raked in quite a haul and got to make his first charitable contribution the next day at church. (Thanks everyone!!!) A few folks also brought him more traditional birthday gifts, including this extraordinary stuffed elephant made by Kerry, whose talents are unnumbered. Isn't it fantastic!?!? I love it almost as much as Daniel does!

Upon becoming "one" Daniel became eligible to start attending Pasitos Felices, a small pre-school in Pittsboro where a team of gentle, loving, well-educated teachers/caregivers speak exclusively in Spanish all
day. The one-year-old class's teacher, Monica, is so wonderful!! She is so kind and creative. Daniel loves her, even if he does still cry a little when his papi drops him off in the mornings. For any local folks wanting more info you can see the phone number on the sign in the photo below.



Rhett and I are really happy in our work. I've found myself working mostly in Siler City, with some Randolph County and a couple of Pittsboro clients. Rhett is more spread out - he drives a lot. Below is a photo that one of my 4 year old clients took of me during an art therapy session. It really does constitute progress that she got a portion of my face in this shot, trust me.



Here's a smattering of images I've snapped based on the fact that I had my camera nearby and my kid was present.

This is what happens when your child picks up $8 worth of brie and you say "it's okay, he doesn't know it's food."

Here's Easter Sunday

And here's my Girl Scout Promise to do a better job of keeping up from now on.

Poor, sick boy

County Social Worker Interview with Lisa Fischbeck

Quote from County Social Worker Interview with Lisa Fischbeck, Priest of the Episcopal Church of the Advocate

Last year, during our visioning process, the Advocate was given a quote from the Sufi poet Rumi, 'the people are going back and forth across the door step where the two doors meet, the door is wide and open, don't go back to sleep.'

That is such a vision for me of the church as that portal between the secular world and the sacred world, the world that is engaging in life and sometimes frantic and hectic, and the world that is calling us to be in touch with God and our deeper selves, and that is calling us to centered and calm...The church is that portal between those two world."

The County Social Worker is FINALLY online. Please check it out!!!!!

I've tried to post this link several times and it's been being annoying. But this should finally work.
http://www.countysocialworker.blogspot.com/

I've finally decided to "out" us, because I have no reason to expect web-stalkers and it's not like I'm going to post our home address or anything. Besides, PP starts out his new webcast/online TV show by saying "My name is Rhett Brown." So, there you go. We're public and his webcast/tv show is awesome. I'm really stunned at how good he is. Check it out. (And post comments. He loves comments!!)

Hugs,
PM --> Emilie

Change is in the air (apartment, car, office, etc.)

It seems like years since I’ve posted anything substantive. So, I’ll try to catch us up, but forgive the gaps and missing details.

We’re almost settled into our new home. PP is ready to tear his hair out because, as he was saying every day since the move until Sunday, “Everything keeps moving!” That’s how I settle into a new space. I move things around – furniture, non-furniture. I keep moving things until they are in a place where they make sense. Sometimes I’ll get too exasperated with whatever it is, and then I get rid of it. I might also repurpose it. That could mean using it in a different way as it already is, or a new coat of paint, or a power saw. You really never know. So you can understand his frustration. But Sunday we agreed that I get to putter and move things around for another two weeks, then things will be still (wherever, and whatever they are). So, I now have 11 more days, and counting.

We’ve shifted from chaotic business to being a little less busy, but still living with that energy of changes and shifts, adjustments, transitions. You know… So, it’s an effort for me these days to take deeper breaths, and slower breaths, and consciously assert permission to “just be” for a moment.

PK is rolling over all the time. Getting him to sleep or getting him to stay asleep is largely about convincing him to stop rolling around and be still. He sleeps on his stomach now, which the whole internet condemns, but our pediatrician advises us to tolerate. As he points out, the baby is going to sleep on whatever side he wants to now. He gets to decide. We’re doing well to confine him to the sleeping space. And that’s all true even now, before he crawls.

I say “before he crawls” as if that weren’t a serious likelihood at any moment. He’s trying hard, and even achieved backward mobility for milliseconds at a time. Forward movement is imminent.

People talk about babies achieving mobility as if it’s such a fabulous thing. Okay, sure, it’s pretty critical for healthy development and well-being; however, it’s also much harder! Yes, I look forward to my little giant being able to walk around outside of my arms (and my aching back and neck) because he is heavy. But mobile kids are just plain harder. It’s scary to see them running around on those unsure little legs. They call them “toddlers” for a reason. They fall, they get hurt, they stick their fingers in dangerous places and put dangerous things in their mouths. (Warning: Gross sentence to follow.) Last night, at a client’s house, I saw a toddler crawl across a living room at lightning speed and with almost no warning nearly got a cockroach in his mouth. There aren’t any cockroaches in our home (that we know of), but we’re going to have to be so incredibly vigilant about not putting our papers on the floor anymore, never leaving bathroom doors open or toilet seats up, etc. Our daily habits have to change – again.

PK has all-but outgrown the co-sleeper, and we do technically have a crib, but it’s not here yet. PP will have to go get it, which means borrowing a truck, also not a problem, but it’s a headache. Another transition. At this moment, PK is napping in our bed, and I’m watching like Hawkwoman to make sure he doesn’t roll out of it. Or get his face too into the sheets. Can you see how this might make me nervous?



But he’s breathing. I promise. I keep checking.

We’re also trying to get out of the habit of putting PK down to sleep with a bottle. He doesn’t have any teeth quite yet, but that, too, is imminent. And when the teeth arrive, good dental hygiene requires that they not suck to sleep. So, we’ve been using a cd I burned off of an Itunes podcast (Dr. Harry Henshaw) with relaxing music to help him make the transition into sleep. Last night and today I’ve used the same cd, and massage with sesame oil. I’m hoping he will associate the smell of the oil and the massage with the music, and therefore, with sleep. At first he seems frustrated because he still associates that cd with food, but he isn’t fussy for long before he decides to relax into sleep. He really is a good sleeper. We’ve been very lucky in that regard.

While we’re in the mood for change (not), it’s also time to start introducing solid foods. Here are a couple of snapshots of our efforts.

We ultimately figured out it's easier to clean up a nearly-naked baby.

School is back in session for all of PP’s and my clients, which makes it a little harder for us to schedule all our various appointments in a way that allows us to avoid using non-us childcare. But PP and I are lucky to have a trusted friend, A, who comes on Fridays after she finishes her indoctrination in corporate values (here, by “corporate values,” I mean the values of large groups of usually white men who cloak their malice in a legal entity, upon which our genius government has bestowed its own rights, privileges, and liabilities distinct from those of its members. Swell). It’s otherwise known as “business associations” at the law school. I took it last year. Painful. The PunkieKid loves her. She loves him. It’s fabulous. PP and I can leave for appointments or steep ourselves in paperwork.

And then, there’s this little troublemaker.



No, he’s not staying. PP calls him Gomer. I can never remember that, so I variously call him “Homer,” “Gonzo,” and “Mo.” During the storm last week, our friend G came over to drop off a tripod, and as she was leaving she heard a pitiful mewing. He looks like he’s 8-10 weeks old, not neutered, and was starving. He’s sweet, but our cat, Dinah hates him. And he isn’t really all that fond of our dog, Rex. Fortunately, G’s sister just moved back from Paris, and she’s adopting Gomer. But she has to adopt a place to live first. Gomer’s here until then. I hope she gets settled in soon.

Speaking of Rex, he tried to die again the other day. It’s a long, painful, scary, miserable story. (We really, really love him) and I won’t go into it with all the details. But suffice it to say that bottle nipples do, in fact, plug dogs up. Literally. And he nearly died. He still tries to get to the baby bottles. The only upside to his flirtation with the other side is that he was actually not a complete spazz during our houseparty for the Obama acceptance speech. We had a total of about 22 people here (in our still not-quite-moved-into townhome). Rexie would have been a complete menace - a loving, licking, begging menace - but a menace nonetheless.



Instead, this was he. See the shaved down part for his catheter line? Poor Rexieboy!

That might be it for now. It might not, but baby is stirring and I think I'll grab a snack before full waking takes place.

The move is underway!

The move is underway!

Help looking for car

Hi All,
PP and I had our car totalled about 6 weeks ago, and are finally getting around to replacing it. We're looking for (1) safe, (2) reliable, (3) good gas mileage, and of course, low cost. If you have tips or know people trying to sell one, let us know.
-pm

Moving

PP and I are moving to Carrboro. PK is 5.5 months old now and is increasingly becoming a little boy (as opposed to an immobile infant). Soon he will be crawling, then walking, then running, and our little place is just too small. It has served us well and there are things about it we will miss (close proximity to grocery stores, wooded scenery), but we are excited about our new place too. The new place will almost double the square footage we have now and it will allow PK to have his own room, as well as allowing me to stretch out my crafting wings without imposing on the babyproofedness of our new abode.

As we prepare to make this transition, we welcome your prayers, your muscles, and any moving boxes you may have to spare. We’re also going to be painting our current place back to its original color, so anyone who wants to burn some calories (approx. 200/hr. for a 140lb woman, more for guys) or hang out with a baby while we paint, come right on over!

Preparation for the move has taken over a bit, so I’m getting a little behind on my 30-in-30 project. But have no fear. It will happen! Just, maybe late :-)

Memo to my beloved son

To: PunkieKid
From: PunkieMommie
Re: Mama's Nose

Mama's nose is not a button. I know this may be hard to believe, and maybe also difficult to hear. But Mama's nose is not a button. Really, it's not.

More ideas for repurposing that drawer

I am sorry to say that I don't have the original websites that I found most of these ideas on. But I ran a google image search for Drawer and Repurposed and most of these appeared that way. Anyway, it turns out I have several of these drawers to repurpose, and I've found some very exciting ideas to play with. Here are several of them. Enjoy!

The future of the desk drawer.

You may remember this from yesterday. Yesterday it was red. I told you I was considering doing something shelf/art like with it.


I found a couple of options that I might emulate - the style, not the design.

I hung it up in the bathroom, where I think it might be moderately useful, to hang out while I try to decide on something (either a direction or a next step).

Ongoing project with bottoms of soda bottles... Can I have yours?

In shock and awe, I've heard that some people don't understand what it is that I am going to do with all these bottoms of soda bottles.

Want to see?

Revising the rules

Did I say I’d create one thing per day? I must have forgotten who I am. I don’t work like that. Telling me to do something – start to finish in one day – is like telling a blender to change the channel. So, let's revise. I will make 30-in-30, but who knows how many I'll have going
at any given time, or how many I'll finish on a given day. I'll keep you updated though; so here's a status report.

I have many things in the works. For starters, I found some fun playthings at the local dump. There's a shed where people drop things off for anyone who wants it. Often these things are in awful shape and not worth much as they are, but fun for upcycling. So, this lamp has seen better days, but I think it has it's best days ahead of it.
It now looks like this, but I'm not sure what the next step is to take with it. We'll see. Inspiration will strike.

Likewise, checkout this lamp, which may or may not be in for its highest glory. which now looks like this, and who knows what it will look like when it's finished. Ideas? I welcome them. I'm not sure where I'm going with this next.

Turning to the mega-mundane, I've been playing with ideas for how to create designated space for some of the families PP and I serve. There are a number of reasons for this, but room dividers can be really helpful for families with too many family members in too few rooms. So, my hot glue gun and I have been pacing around for things to recycle into room dividers. Here are two projects we've started so far.



There's also a simple wooden wall hook that I've started decoupaging with some leftover rice paper. I haven't figured out what design to put on it though. That's why it's been sitting around for a week. The green with glitter is just a background.



Also in the realm of decorative organizing, I've been playing with the idea of making some kind of shelf/art thing out of this old desk drawer. . I put a wall hanging wire on the back and now it's suspended from my wall waiting for its next cue. I'm not sure what that will be yet.

Then there's this jewelry organizer I found that must once have been from Bath and Body Works. I like it as a jewelry organizer, but I don't like the way it looks. It also needed a little repair work, but I did that earlier today. So we'll see where this one goes next. It's hanging on the wall with that desk drawer now. It awaits its vision.

I'm hoping to do something to salvage this wine glass, which lost its stem to the dishwasher several weeks ago. We have lost unnumbered wine glasses this way, and I think they're still perfectly good, just not ready for use in this state. I'm looking for some kind of super cool base that I can make to substitute for the stem. That said, I've been thinking a lot about making a chandelier that would diffuse light but would also display/dry wineglasses with a traditional stem. I've seen some cool examples of that; here's one of my favorites.

As I've said, much of crafting is about the process for me. I delight in learning new skills. One of the skills I've been fascinated by lately has been by this guy who does amazing stuff to raw eggs with a dremel tool. (Have I mentioned that I love the dremel tool?)
. I couldn't resist trying, but it's ugly stuff so far.
.

On the low-tech and nearing completion end, we have my in-progress drinking straw rainbow lampshade. It's in process but maybe you can see the direction I'm headed.

Lastly, I've got a wooden pallet and a really beat up side(??) table outside that I've been covering in blue-green paint that I found at the giveaway pile. We'll see where those go too. Who knows :-)

Piece #1 - bottle for B&S

Last night we went to a Durham Bulls game with our dear friends, B&S. PP was honored to perform their wedding many months ago, and we are so going to miss them when they move to Boston at the end of the summer. Anyway, they seemed like the perfect recipients of the first of my 30-in-30 projects.



Here, you can see my child making out with it.

This project allowed me to practice a few of the new skills I’ve learned of late, and to develop one new skill. This is a glass riesling bottle that I salvaged from our neighbor’s recycling (with permission). I made the heart out of casting resin and red glitter, then drilled holes through the front and back sides of the bottle using my dremel tool (that was my new skill), drilled a hole through the top of the resin heart (also using the dremel) and strung the heart onto the bottle with floral wire. I wound the wire around the spout of the bottle so that they can either hang it or set it out by itself. I didn’t think of this until it was too late, but I think it would look cool with a strand of white Christmas tree lights in it; S also came up with the idea of putting some sand in the bottom. I love that idea too!

On a side note, if there weren’t a commandment (one of the big 10) against worshipping idols, I might bow down to the dremel tool. I so love my dremel tool!

Thirty pieces in thirty days

I had a really cool experience a few weeks ago right after I finished my income tax exam. My friend, EHLL, came over to celebrate the semester’s end and happened upon a recent project of mine. It was a rusted old tray that I found at the dump where PP and I take our trash and recycling. I had primed it with rust-removing primer, painted it, and decoupaged it with a textured collage. It turned out right nicely for one of my projects, and I was really stunned to find out that EHLL thought it really was art. I usually get rid of the stuff I make once I’m done making it, because the point is to make it, not to have it. So, she liked it and I gave it to her. She even asked me to sign it. That was sweet, and although I’m sure it doesn’t really rise to the level of “art,” I have to admit there have been some projects lately that really turned out well.

e.g.,

What’s more, I’m getting some good feedback at work about the projects I’m making with recycled/unused/found objects that can have helpful implications for our clients. So, here we go. I’m giving myself a challenge. Thirty pieces in thirty days. For the next thirty days, I will create one piece of something somewhat useful out of found/recycled/unused stuff. I will buy only minimal equipment and supplies, and I will post the projects here (with tutorials, to the best of my ability). So today is day one. We’ll see what I make today! This should be fun.

Controversial Parenting Practices for the Happiest Baby Ever!!

There is no shortage of controversy over parenting practices, even in infancy. To circumcise or not, to breastfeed or formula feed, to Ferberize or … uh, … not. In toddlerhood and beyond it gets even harder. I have lots of opinions about all of these things. If you want to know, ask. In the meantime, let’s talk about swaddling. Evidently there is controversy about swaddling. I didn’t know that; probably because I don’t know many masochists. Apparently most parents stop swaddling after a couple of months. Well, I missed that memo and we've been gleefully swaddling for exactly 5 months now. (Can you believe PK is already 5 months old??!!?). I will have to read more about when/why people stop swaddling. I grew up in a Nez Perce cradle board, so that was normal for me. But I need to find out what concerns i might not yet know about.

Further, there is great range in swaddling methods, which my husband and mother don’t think I should tell you about. There’s the traditional swaddling method. Yeah, right. That swaddler never met my kid. Then there are commercial swaddlers. These are great! But at 15 bucks a pop, and a kid growing so fast I think he’s been sprayed with fertilizer, there are only so many of these around. Oh yeah, and said rapidly-growing-baby pee-soaks the swaddler every night.

And then there’s the tape method. We’re not the only ones who’ve thought of this. Okay, fine. I thought of it, but in the wee hours of the morning, PP was converted. Admit it; you’ve considered it too. See this, and this, and this if you think we’re alone. But no one wants to admit to actually doing it. Well, there's a drought on, dammit, and we're trying not to wash our three swaddlers every night, so what to do? We do wrap the tape around the blanket part of the fabric being used to swaddle him. Cute? Not really. Classy? Certainly not. But oh, the righteous, righteous, righteousness of these sleepless souls. They may be better parents than I am, but I get better sleep.

See my sweet and happy swaddled baby?

As I write this, I have just crawled back into bed with my laptop. It’s not quite 8am and I’ve been lying awake for nearly two hours from a headache to awful to sleep through, but well managed with Sudafed, and now I’m so grateful to have spent this time awake and enjoying the sounds of the breaths of the two most wonderful men in the world. The bigger of the two of them is facing away from me; the littler of the two is swaddled and laying inches away with his sweet face slightly tilted my direction. I am watching little sleep grins cross his face even as I type. People tell you that you can’t ever get these moments back, and to enjoy it now; and I feel the fleetingness as I lay here and sense each moment whizzing by me. PK is 20lbs now. That’s twice his already massive birth weight. He has outgrown almost every piece of clothing that we had for him at birth, and I feel all too intensely how near these irretrievable moments are to over.

Hello All,
I’m sorry for the long silence on my side of the blogging publication lately. I hoped you enjoyed PP’s sermon in my absence. I’m probably biased, but I really thought it was very good. Anyway, there’s been no shortage of happenings in our lives lately; and I’ve even had enough time to write about it all, but I’ve needed to spend some time in my head and heart before I started processing things through my fingers and onto the screen.

Yesterday was a really wonderful day. Weirdbird and L were both ordained to the transitional deaconate. L was ordained in Washington (state, not D.C.) and WB was ordained at St. Lukes, Durham. I was able to be at WB’s ordination in body, as well as in spirit, but my thoughts and prayers were very much with L also.

At WB’s ordination I served as cantor/litanist. That means I sang. I used to sing a lot – even majored in singing in college, but I found that (for me, at least) singing for its own sake is a lonely, even selfish use of time. It’s not fulfilling and I could go the rest of my life without singing as a performance again. I wouldn’t miss it. But it’s really nice to be able to participate in the big events in the lives of people I particularly love and admire. It doesn’t happen often – maybe once every year or two years? I don’t keep track. But anyway, today I was honored and deeply humbled to be allowed to take part in one of the seminal events in WB’s journey into priesthood.

There’s a good bit of anxiety that comes along with singing at the important events of loved ones’ lives. I don’t sing much anymore. I don’t have a teacher; and I never, ever practice. Singing is like any other physical activity. What you don’t exercise regularly will turn into blubber and mush. That’s usually how I feel about my voice. Blubber and mush. People say very kind things to me, so maybe I don’t hear myself accurately; but I do really want to give my very best because I know how important these events are, both in their lives and in the lives of the other loved ones gathered around them.

My sister is getting married on December 27 of this year, and she wants me to sing Ave Maria – the Schubert one, not the Gounod. That’s a commonly sung piece of music, and it’s commonly butchered. It’s deceptively tough because while the range is somewhat small, the tessitura sits right in the soprano break; also, there’s a tendency to go on autopilot and either let it get ploddy, or worse, not keep the sound supported with the air it really needs. I’m particularly bad about that these days because since I’m not all that practiced, I’m a bit shy. I don’t feel confident that the sound will be pretty, so I don’t want to let it get too loud; thus, I am overly stingy with breath. Being stingy with breath is a bad thing. First it leads to ugly singing, then to passing out. Frankly, I’m more concerned about the former than the latter of those two.

I’ll be back in a little while to talk some more about the big stuff that’s been going on/has happened recently. Topics to look forward to include PK’s baptism, the status of my journeys into “art,” and the car saga. For now, I must prepare to face the day.

Many blessings,
PM

"A New Religion" Sermon Delivered on June 15, 2008 at the Episcopal Church of the Advocate

In Matthew, Jesus is a complicated man. He is culturally Jewish, teaching in the synagogues. He observes the law. And yet, he has begun a new community, attracting crowds from urban and rural areas, challenging religious and government authority, but offering meaningful community to those who are "helpless and harassed, like sheep without a shepherd." Jesus is a new take on the old, claiming that a kingdom has come near, even if that kingdom looks radically different than expected.

If Matthew's Jesus is about anything, he is about giving those who search for community an experience of God that is both familiar and new at the same time. The encounter between the child Jesus and the Zorastrian wise men of Persia presents a possible foundation for Matthean evangelism through which today's gospel might be interpreted. We're not told what label to put on the wise men after their encounter with Jesus. We're not told that they abandoned Zorastrianism, after all it was their eastern religion that led them to Jesus. We're not led to believe that they became Jewish, or that they started a pre-Christian community. What we do know, is that they left praising God, and that they found in Jesus, another way to travel home.

Earlier this week, I took a trip to South Carolina, to my hometown of Bishopville. Bishopville is an impoverished rural village, about the size of Pittsboro, with a population of predominantly poor African-Americans, and working-class whites, with a dying agrarian economy, and an industrial network mortally wounded by off shoring. Lee County Central High School is a 95% African-American school. More than half of its students are on the free or reduced cost lunch program. White students attend Robert E. Lee Academy, a private school that emerged in the early 1970's. Its sole purpose is resistance to public school integration. This is my hometown.

My trip to Bishopville occurred on Tuesday, which is primary election day in South Carolina. My dad was seeking a 13^th term in the South Carolina House of Representatives. I traveled down Highway 15 to Bishopville to offer support to my mom and dad, thinking that his highly contested re-election bid may be closer than in years past. To my surprise, my dad won re-election by a 16 point landslide.

The next morning, I had breakfast with my dad and the Bishopville town elders in the local Hardeez, where anyone with any influence or power gathers to do the hard work of governing. Inevitably, as folks talked about local politics, they began a discussion of religion too.

Just as the First Council of Nicaea tackled and refuted the religious controversy of Arianism (that is, the idea, that the Son is not co-equal nor co-eternal with the Father but rather a created being with divinely inspired powers), so this Hardeez council addressed the cutting edge controversy of the day. And what might this controversy be?

The new Methodist pastor in Bishopville has a Methodist pastor wife. She will pastor the large church in Camden. She will make $100,000 a year - twice as much as he does. She won't live in the Bishopville parsonage at all, and he will split his time between the Bishopville and Camden parsonages. For reasons obvious to all of us here, this is very controversial.

It's hard to believe sometimes that my community-of-origin and my adopted home of Chapel Hill lie on the same highway. It's true. If you follow Highway 15 south from Chapel Hill, eventually the road will become Main Street Bishopville. The infrastructure of the two towns, are connected, if only slightly; and the cultures are worlds apart.

Over the years, I've struggled to make sense of my home-state. I even toyed with the idea of returning there to “make a difference” in communities like the one from which I came.

It turns out, I'm not alone.

I read a study this week called “A New Generation of Southerners: Youth Organizing in the South." It said that a growing number of young adults (and I suspect the young at heart as well) find themselves torn between the decision to live in progressive, opportunity-rich hubs like Chapel Hill, and a guilt inspired yen to redeem the rural South. We yearn for, and often work for, what this author called a "New South"—a South exorcised of its slavery, oppression, defiance, and hostility to social change. Since the late nineteenth century, politicians, business leaders, and others have used the idea of the New South to to transform the Old South—with its entrenched poverty, conservative politics, exploited labor, racial segregation, and use of faith or rather, the language of faith, to keep minds closed and hearts from loving one another.

Young people and their allies to this day struggle against this Old South legacy. But they are also heirs to a legacy of bold resistance, strong cultural identities, community bonds, and place-based allegiances.

Across America, people are beginning to organize around "youth" as a unique political identity and a foundation for participating in a broader social justice movement. The South is no exception. Yet at the very moment in which a new cadre of leaders is urgently needed, the South's dismal public education system, its limited economic opportunities, and the entrenched poverty of the Black Belt, inner cities, Appalachia, and Rio Grande region have spurred an exodus of young people, especially Blacks, out of the South in search of better opportunities.

This study speaks to the contemporary experience of young adults in the south, but I dare say may baby boomers share this path.

I can't speak for my 20 and 30 something peers here at ECOTA. But I am a part of this mass exodus from the Old South. Chapel Hill is overflowing with folks like me - in search that new south. Where our children can learn tolerance and compassion, innocent of rigid, fear-based reductions of reality. Like the Israelites ran from Egypt, people from the deeper south come here seeking the Promised Land.

As we flee the Old South Ways, it’s really not surprising that so many of us also flee what we knew of God.

Most of us are well educated, young professionals, who have exposed themselves to world travel and cross-cultural immersion.

Religion tends not to be high on the list of priorities.-at least, not the religion of our parents.

But these adults don’t practice the religion of their parents.

Gone are the days when going to church was a virtue in-and-of itself. Today, the virtue is in not being a part of a formal institution. Research indicates that association with a denomination has less meaning today than every before. The virtue is in sharing relationships that plug them into something beyond themselves.

This thesis is echoed by Father Kirk Hadaway, Director of Research for the Episcopal Church. In an article on church attendance in America, Father Hadaway said, "If it's not uplifting, interesting, provoking ... it's perfectly acceptable in American society to not go [to church] anymore". "Churches that are providing a more uplifting worship experience and community are those that are growing. And those that do it well are not typical anymore."

However, just because many Americans (young and old alike) aren't attending church doesn't mean that they don't long for meaningful spirituality and community.

In January 2007, National Public Radio correspondent Judy Woodruff shined the media spotlight on this exodus from church in her piece entitled, "Experiencing Other Faiths to Find One's Own." This story features Gillian Siple, a Davidson college senior who describes herself as "spiritual." Siple spent the past year traveling and studying in Asia and Europe, immersing herself in religions other than her own.

Amid an abundance of information about religion easily available via the Internet and television, she says, "maybe the youth of today aren't sure if the way of their parents is perhaps the way that they want to follow, and I think that's wonderful."

With a small group of students, Siple, a religion major, lived in China, Thailand and India. She meditated in monasteries and ashrams, lived and studied among Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus — not your typical study-abroad program.

She remembers living at a meditation center in Thailand, wearing the traditional garb of a yogi. "I remember waking up at 4 o'clock in the morning and taking out my mat and I can remember just thinking, 'What if my friends saw me now? Would anyone recognize me? I am so far from the person and the life that I live back at Davidson right now. There's no remnant of that life on my body right now.'"

Even her faith began to fall away. She says that when she mediated, she felt an uncommon sense of peace. She wondered: Have I gone into this too deeply? Am I still a Christian, or am I becoming something else?

But back at Davidson College, she returned to the faith she knows best: Christianity. That faith is stronger now, she says. She attends prayer and fellowship meetings and heads an interfaith group on campus. She also meditates based on the teaching she learned in Thailand.

Siple calls herself a Christian pluralist, open to the possibility of the validity of other religious traditions.

After her tour of Asia, she spent a week at the Taize monastery in France, a place that attracts young people from around the world. In a Taize service, there is chanting and reading from scripture. But there are also long moments where more than 1,000 young adults sit quietly together in silence — not being told what to do.

"You do what you feel is right for your religious practice," Siple says. "I think that is what our generation is screaming for right now. People want not to be told what they should do, but to figure it out for themselves." It could be said that Gillian, like the Zorastian kings, met Jesus in Thailand and found a new way home.

To this point, I've been guessing that Chapel Hill is largely comprised of young adults like Gillian Siple. To be on the safe side, I did some research. According to Fizber.com, of the approximately 50,000 people in Chapel Hill, 30.4% consider themselves religious. The breakdown of this 30.4% is not surprising, 22% Protestant, 7% Methodist, 8% Baptist, 6% Roman Catholic, 2% Presbyterian, 2% Episcopalian. Interestingly enough, the Jewish population was listed as 0%, which we know isn't true. So much for statistics.

The point of all this is that ECOTA lives in the middle of the New South, surrounded by a community that is 70% "non religious" with young adults who are looking for community and spirituality, but may or may not be able to call themselves Christian (at least not in the way that our parents defined the word).

So to bring this reflection to a close, I searched for a quote from Presiding Bishop SHory, hoping that she might have offered a reflection or statement on the role of the Episcopal Church in our ever changing society. I didn't find such a quote, but to my delight, I found a number of more conservative voices in the Episcopal Church who were arguing that Bishop Katherine is not, in fact, a Christian.

Now, I've met Bishop Shory, and know this not to be true. However, given the needs of young adults in Chapel Hill, this label (intended to insult) could be a complement.

Our presiding bishop is a faithful follower of Jesus, the same Jesus who challenged conventional notions of religion, and yet utilized his culture and tradition to create community inclusive of all. Our Advocate community embodies Jesus’ witness.

The Advocate lives in the richness of the Anglican tradition, yet attracts persons of all faith backgrounds including persons ordained in the Methodist, UCC and Baptist traditions. There are lay people here from Lutheran, Roman Catholic, Presbyterian, Latter Day Saints, Quaker, non-denominational, agnostic and atheist backgrounds.

We embrace the witness of scripture and tradition, but seek dialogue with our surrounding community through “Theology on Deck.” Our roots live deep within the soil of the past, but our branches stretch out to give safe haven to those to who have been rejected or wounded by the church.

When I moved to Chapel Hill in 2004, I was in recovery from divorce and five tumultuous years of parish ministry that took me to the brink of atheism. When I first came to ECOTA, I had difficulty calling myself a Christian. Here, I met my wife, and developed friendships that restored and nurtured my faith.

Like Gillian Sible and the Zorastian kings, I met Jesus here, in all of you, and found a new way home.

There are many in Chapel Hill who desire to integrate where they’ve been with where they are going. We are a community who offers this opportunity. We are a highway that runs out of the “Old South” into the new. As we discern the future of our community, foremost in our mind should be the journey of those who may hear of us, the experience of those who think church is the last thing that they need, and the yearning of those whose background may reveal Jesus to us in ways that we cannot yet anticipate. Amen

Trying to figure out the rules

Well, so it looks like the jury is in on that "incidental" television viewing thing. Nuanced perspective. I like that. I believe in nuance.

Creativity run amuck

There is s*** all over my home. But it’s cool s***. At least, that’s what I think. My wonderful, patient husband just sees s*** and he’s handling it like a champ. Why is it here? Why is it cool? It’s here because I want to do stuff with it, and it’s cool because I can think of a million purposes it can serve. I’m in classes again, you know, and when I’m in the middle of a semester (or the beginning, or the end) I have to do something to keep my soul from withering up and dying. I choose unused-materials craft therapy. I have (again) become bizarrely fascinated with the hidden potential in the items that normally wind up in recycling bins or at the landfill. Flimsy cardboard boxes from the granola bars or cereal, plastic milk jugs, empty tubes from toilet paper… There’s nothing like law school to send me off to alter the destiny of a soda can.

At the moment I’m justifying all this with what I consider a completely useful purpose. The families I’m working with very often seem trapped by their beliefs that they need a different apartment/house in order to dispel the clutter, and by their thought that they must have a million store-bought gizmos and contraptions to entertain their young. By definition, these families are poor, and birthdays and Christmas’s go by with little notice, much less gobs of gifts. The parents are stir-crazy, surrounded by papers and baby gear, tossed off children’s games with missing pieces and bikes they mean to get repaired one of these days. The kids are likewise bonkers because they can’t go outside – either too many drug dealers around or too darned hot – and they have nothing to do indoors (or so they think).

So I’ve taken to teaching them how to more creatively use the resources they do have. Soda bottles, baby food jars, sticks from outside, cartons from eggs, canisters from coffee and formula, etc. I see stuffed animals waiting to be born from the piles of outgrown baby clothes and storage bins crying out from junk mail, begging to become paper maché. There’s a paper maché bookshelf being constructed on my living room floor, and three cardboard boxes are in the midst of being paper machéd together. Soon (I tell myself) the boxes and shelves will house be the things that currently have no home or no good home, and I’ll perfect my skills to teach to families. In the meantime, there’s a collection of s*** in my home and I love my patient husband.

Can I please have your lids?

Hi All,
Can I please have your lids? I need soda caps, detergent lids, milk tops, etc. I'm working on my new hobby - making toys from junk. I came across Lidmen. If you're interested, there are instructions and many fabulous examples at www.lidmen.com. But most of you won't actually want to do this. I DO! I also will never get enough lids on my own. Can you please help? Check out some




Neat, huh? Can I please have your lids?

Entertaining Baby - Green and On the Cheap

PK is hitting some kind of developmental milestone or growth spurt, or something. He’s waking at night more (always to eat) and he’s eating and sleeping a lot. He’s been fussy a little more than usual, which still means he’s not fussy much. I’ve been really busy, taking 2 classes at the law school, still working full time, and being Mommie, of course. Studying the tax code . . . I never thought I’d spend a summer doing that. But it’s not as painful as I thought it would be. We’ll see how I do on the exam, of course, but I think I still know what’s going on.

In my few moments of spare time, I’ve been pondering how to make baby and children’s toys using recycled materials from around the house. I am interested in this for PK’s benefit, of course, but I also have a client whose family is really stressed by their inability to entertain a 6-month-old and a 5-year-old. They don’t have many toys, and don’t have much money to get toys. I’ve also been reading a bit about Waldorf philosophy of childrearing, and it’s emphasis on handmade toys and toys made of natural materials. With all the recalls and scares about toxic plastic these days, I suspect homemade toys are probably safer. It just seems to me that it must be possible to entertain little folks with recycled stuff. I’m testing that with my own kid and googling quite a bit on the topic.

I’ve been hoarding plastic bottles, boxes from various things, and. I haven’t figured out exactly what I’m going to do with all these, but I’ve started on a few little projects. For instance, I picked up a couple of dowels and am trying to make some version of this:

I’ve started making blocks out of formula cans, paper towel and toilet tissue tubes, and jello, rice, and tea boxes. Obviously, PK doesn’t play with blocks yet, but I think this is a good project to teach to some of my low-income families. I’m also considering making this cardboard playhouse and using some adaptation of this project to make toyboxes. I’ve been looking for some ways to teach this mom to nurture her child’s growing interest in letters and reading. This project seems like one way that she might do that now, and that I might do this for PK later. If I had a source to get lumber scraps, I’d be all excited about making and painting these wooden blocks.

This is mostly a fun diversion, for now, since PK isn’t too into his toys yet and this mom isn’t on board for crafting much. I really should be giving the time to my tax code. But I’d really like to get her on board with crafting, and I really enjoy learning more about low-cost, green parenting.

Join Us! PotatoPalooza!!!

The Potato Gun Project is hosting a benefit Concert Sat 5/31/08 at 8pm at the Broadstreet Café in Durham.

All ages are welcome, teens are $3 adults $5.

The profits will go to the Independent Living Program at Carolina Outreach!

We would love to see you there. Please consider forwarding this to whomever you think my enjoy a show and help a great cause at the same time. Here are the acts

- 8pm Mike Copeland aka emcee Chill: Comedy (also the voice of UNC Men’s Baseball and Women’s Basketball)
- 8:30pm Lodge McCammon: Solo Acoustic
- 9:30pm Potato Gun Project http://www.myspace.com/potatogunproject
- 10:30pm Stratocruiser http://www.myspace.com/stratocruiser
- 11:30pm TRIPP http://www.myspace.com/trippband

Seriously... What were these people thinking?