more musings on noticing…

vintage brain imageIf all thoughts are creative & inform our reality, then noticing our thoughts must be a survival skill of sorts.  We can see our though patterns emerge by paying attention. I think about this, I feel hopeful.   If I think about this, my heart races.  If I think about this, I feel rage.  We don’t have to stuff our negative emotions, they’re trying to tell us something.  It just means asking questions about why these particular thoughts are so front and center right now.  WHY?

Here’s my noticing list from this morning…6 to 8am.  

jeff guitar

MUSIC & HEART My husband plays Summer’s End by John Prine on the guitar.  Today, there was a story in the NEW YORK Times about this gorgeous song.  Jeff watched the video through the eyes of a father.  I watched through the eyes of a child.  Summer’s End video & lyrics

DEFINEI learn something when I look up the definitions even of common words.

  • FEAR/transitory adjective—1.to be afraid of  2. to have a reverential awe of 
  • OTHER/adjective—1. not the same  2. different
  • EQUAL/adjective—1. like for each member of a group, class or society

THOUGHTS ON GRIEF: Elizabeth Gilbert from the Brain Pickings Newsletter.  

“People keep asking me how I’m doing, and I’m not always sure how to answer that. It depends on the day. It depends on the minute. Right this moment, I’m OK. Yesterday, not so good. Tomorrow, we’ll see.”

INSPIRATION: An 18-year-old delivery guy at Steve’s Pizza in Battle Creek, Michigan does something so full of heart.  Steve’s Pizza story on CNN7-hour-pizza-delivery-today-main-1810189_a0db2dd96262d42e1c69d835cc03dcd6.fit-2000w

 

ALL POLITICS ARE LOCAL: South Dakota’s democratic gubernatorial candidate, Billie Sutton was on Morning Joe today. www.suttonforsd.com FORK IN THE ROAD south dakota by Lisa Lillibridge

I believe that differing viewpoints bring dynamic ideas to our challenges whether in our civic, social or private lives.  

A fork in the road indeed for the good people of the 605. 

fork in the road defined

 

 

 

 

 

grief is messy & highly caloric.

I lost my Dad in the early morning hours of August 30th.  He was a generous, loving, humorous and complex man.  He also was in a great deal of pain. Thankfully he no longer is.  But, damnit, he isn’t here anymore either.  Now, I’m in pain and I would like to talk with him about what bullshit it is to lose someone I love.  He knew this pain, he lost his baby brother, my Uncle Tom, almost exactly one year ago.  

I flew home to South Dakota from Vermont the morning Dad died.  I wept through both airports—Burlington, Vermont and Chicago’s O’Hare. I had a light blanket wrapped around my shoulders that dried my tears as needed.  I walked to my gate in Chicago, blanket draped and carrying a garment bag.  I caught the eye of a few people who offered nods of acknowledgement and held my gaze, maybe understanding that grief is messy.

Oddly, I kept hoping I could tell someone, anyone that I just lost my Dad.  I now understand what to do if I see someone else in the shape I was in.  To hell with privacy.  I will offer a hug.  Or I will buy them a coffee.  Or I will ask them why they are crying and listen, even if I only have a minute before my flight.

I arrived mid-afternoon.  Flowers, casseroles, baked goods, fruit baskets, cheese and meat trays had already begun arriving at the house.  The doorbell was ringing.  The landline was ringing.  Our cell phones were ringing and pinging.  Hugs and tears filled Mom’s back entryway and helped eased the weight of it all.

I knew the process of the “business” of death wasn’t going to be easy.  However, writing the obituary, picking out Dad’s casket and clothes, making phone calls and so on—these things kept us busy.  Busy is needed those first few days.  Making arrangements gave us something to focus on with a deadline, providing a little scaffolding to a messy emotional process.

There were times before the prayer service and funeral, I wanted the whole world to just leave me alone in my sorrow, because I just lost my Dad.

Thankfully the world didn’t.

I’m now keenly aware of how I didn’t give nearly enough attention to the loss of other people’s parents.  I’m sorry if I seemed cavalier.  I just didn’t know how much even a small gesture could mean.  I always thought of grief as a private process.  I understand better now what’s necessary to get through it all.

I’m so sorry for your loss, no matter how many years it’s been for you.

The outpouring of love, time and culinary talents from the good folks in Burke, South Dakota made it the whole process a lot more bearable.  No one would’ve loved having all of those goodies around more than John.  Right, Dad?  Although I think he would’ve hidden the bag of Dorothy’s famous peanut butter cookies in the freezer and pretended they were already gone.

I’m grateful to you all.  Thank you so much.

pie and coffee.JPG

PLEASE NOTE:  Is there a metabolic trick that helps burn the calories (mostly from homemade baked goods) that are delivered to the family during a time of loss?

grief + baked goods + casseroles + visiting + crying + fatigue = COMFORT

____________________________________________________________________

John Lowell Lillibridge lived 79 years, 3 months & 21 days.

Rest, in peace, Big Guy.

You will be greatly missed.

IMG_3445

 

fledge, far more than just a verb.

My twin girls are graduating from high school in a few weeks.

We noted when they were born that they would be the Class of 2018.

 Lucy is on the left & Willa on the right—one hour old.

FLEDGE verb (Merriam Webster)

1: to rear until ready for flight or independent activity

This definition of fledge, makes the process sound so simple, so animal.  I’m finding that this process is not so simple and requires some emotional skills far beyond natural animal instincts.  A few questions keep coming up for me.

What do I need to let go of now?

What’s at stake by holding on to my girls too tightly?  Too loosely?

What relationships do I desire moving forward?

Who am I when I no longer have kids at home?

I’m allowing myself to grieve the end of this stage of family life.

I know I won’t hang out in this emotional space forever.

If I stuff these feelings, they’ll leak out in remarkably weird ways.

Perhaps even weirder than usual lately.

_______________________________________________________________

Congratulations to fledglings throughout the land.

Happy Graduation 2018!

 

 

tears & droplets

I was told this week that “tears are memories on the move”.  I thought that was a lovely way to describe our tears.  People I love are hurting now.  I thought this concept could offer some solace…moving memories.  The idea of sorrow moving through us by our tears—a biological, physiological and emotional response gives our tears the weight they deserve.
I shot these images and realized that I was zeroing in on the beauty of the temporal quality of a droplet.  A droplet, like a tear is living but won’t be forever. They are entirely necessary in the here and now when they flow…memories on the move.  Memories on the move.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

sorrow & joy

I’ve experienced deep sorrow this week with the loss of a friend due to a long, painful illness.  Through that process I’ve realized what a unique gift sorrow can be in understanding ourselves and our place in the world.  I know that my friend would’ve been very open to a discussion about this topic—she had an enormous capacity to explore the psychology of the soul.

definition of sorrow

noun sor·row \ˈsär-(ˌ)ō, ˈsȯr-\

  • a feeling of sadness or grief caused especially by the loss of someone or something

  • :  a cause of grief or sadness

definition of joy

noun \ˈjȯi\

  • : a feeling of great happiness

  • : a source or cause of great happiness : something or someone that gives joy to someone

quote lillibridge

Sorrow & Joy I believe exist in the same place in our hearts.  They just feel a helluva lot different.  I feel that both emotions need each other to be fully acknowledged, accepted and better understood.  Thank you for this, my friend.

sorrow and joy lillibridge boardwalk sandwich mass