Banking On It!

What if every good thing you ever did, every warm word you ever uttered, every loving thought you ever had was deposited into a giant universal bank?  What if it was that way for everyone?  Every single good thing ever done, spoken or thought by anyone anywhere was placed, like a precious golden coin, into this universal depository.  And what if, like a 401K, your deposit was matched by the deposit of the good feeling, the sweet smile, the inner joy (each a golden coin in its own right) that YOUR action caused.  Can you imagine how full of love, goodness and joy this "bank" would be?  Can you imagine what an amazing place this depository would be to visit?  Now, what if this bank was named......"Heaven"?  Just a thought.  Keep making your deposits. And max out on that Heavenly 401K while you're at it.  I'm banking on it! 

Desiderata

The common myth is that the Desiderata poem was found in a Baltimore church in 1692 and is centuries old, of unknown origin. Desiderata was in fact written around 1920 and copyrighted in 1927, by lawyer Max Ehrmann (1872-1945) of Terre Haute, Indiana.

The Desiderata myth began after Reverend Frederick Kates reproduced the Desiderata poem in a collection of inspirational works for his congregation in 1959 on church notepaper, headed: 'The Old St Paul's Church, Baltimore, AD 1692' (the year the church was founded). Copies of the Desiderata page were circulated among friends, and the myth grew.


Regardless of its origins, I find this piece highly inspirational and turn to it whenever certain elements of my life come out of balance.  Those of you who are friends with me on Facebook will recognize it, but I wanted to share it again today.  It's value is timeless and it is worth multiple readings, especially when you find yourself struggling for some sense of peace.  

 Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; 

and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and

lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs;

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals;

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the Universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
You have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.

Ezzy has landed

It's November 1rst and, here at the Rudman residence, we have had yet one more successful landing by "Ezzy" the Halloween Witch.  If you do not know who "Ezzy" is, please see my former post entitled "Move Over Santa, the Halloween Witch is Coming to Town."  

Two Halloween books for each child nestled in gift bags were placed on the front step by "Ezzy" and they were thrilled.  And as "Ezzy" carted away the bag of Halloween candy, she noticed a note placed carefully in the bag on top of all the colorful sugar bombs.  The note read as follows:

"Dear Ezzy:

I hope you had fun last night trick-or-treating or just flying around on your broom with your black cat. Do you think you could tell me the name of your black cat because if I don't get the name of him I'm going to have to just call him "black cat". 

Remember to come to my house when I have my own kids so that we can sign the contract.  One more thing...does your black cat have kittens? 

The end.  

from:  Elleyna"

So, while the existence of Santa hangs in the balance, Ezzy the Witch is safe from exposure and lives to fly around the world on her "hemi-powered broom" for yet another year.  Now, to name that darn cat.

Full Body and a Bouquet for Ten Years' Runnin'

Ten years ago today, I married my best friend, my "Rock".  It's nice to have someone beside you who keeps you "real" and who, in turn, you can bring back to reality as well.  In ten years' time, marriage experiences alot.  You get busy, you get out of sync.  There are times you get angry or resentful with each other, but we (me and Kevin), we always manage to find each other again.  I'm lucky I found a guy who could make me laugh.  I mean, REALLY belly laugh.  And he knows how to do it even when I want to bite his head off.  Especially then.   I think marriage is kind of like a heartbeat.  It has its ups and downs, its peaks and valleys.  But just like a heartbeat, those ups and downs mean that you have life in your marriage.  It's dynamic and energetic, palpable and enduring.  And marriage, like a heartbeat, sometimes beats faster, sometimes slower and sometimes it skips a beat all together.   

So having said all this, I reflect on our wedding day ten years ago.  It was such a great, unforgettable day.    And it was fun.  One of the gifts we got on that wonderful day was a box of 7 bottles of red wine of varying names and vineyards.  Each had a label affixed to its neck with a number printed on it:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 10.  The enclosed note indicated that we were to drink the bottle of wine on the indicated anniverary and that each bottle was scheduled to mature on or about the anniversary date on which we were supposed to share it.  How cool was that? 

Kevin and I have so enjoyed this gift and we have looked forward to it over the years.  We drink it out of the special glasses we had for our wedding dinner.  We use them only once a year.  There is usually a bouquet of flowers, presented to me by Kevin, in the room with us and together we sip the wine, experience its "full body" and "bouquet".  We reminisce on the past year together and talk about what we plan for the future.  On two anniversaries (our first and third), the "full body" experience also extended to the baby in my belly, in which case a sip or two of the wine was all I could enjoy, but the anticipation of the "sharing of the wine" was there just the same. 

Tonight we will share our last bottle of wine from that gift.  10 is a milestone for any marriage.  So much growth has already taken place, individually and as a couple.  And still we have so much to look forward to.  Perhaps, together, we'll go in search of wines to share on our 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 17th and 20th anniversaries.  Sounds like another trip to Sonoma is in order. Here's to "full bodies" and "bouquets"  for another 10 years. Cheers, everyone!
Happy 10th Anniversary, Honey.  I Love You.  

Sibling Car Conversations

Driving from St. Peters, MO to Edwardsville, IL tonight:

Elleyna:  "Oh, Mom, I forgot to tell you that I signed up for a speaking part audition in Drama Club today."

Mom:  "You did?  OMG, Elleyna, I'm so proud of you."

Danny:  "See, now those are the experiences I want you to have, Elleyna."

Elleyna (looking at Danny though I can't be sure cause I was driving):  "Um, Danny, you're my BROTHER, not my FATHER!"

Danny:  "What does THAT matter?"

Elleyna:  (((shakes head)))  --witnessed via rear view mirror

Mom:  ((chuckling and amused))

End of Conversation. 

"What I Know For Sure, as a Mommy"

 

1) I'll never get caught up on laundry.

2) Within an hour of Kev going on an out-of-town business trip, someone will puke.

3) Just when I think I have it all put together, my wonderful, beautiful, astute, 8 year old daughter will shove it up my behind and teach me a valuable lesson all at the same time.

4) My children love when I put "Mommy Love Notes' in their lunches for school.

5) My children hate when I forget to put "Mommy Love Notes" in their school lunches.   

6) Out of all the screaming, Hi-DB (high decibel) "Mommy voices" at an ice hockey game, my son can distinguish MY voice.

7) The time I spend with my kids in the waning hours of the evening, laying in bed next to them, asking them the "best and the worst" part of their day and singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" are some of the best moments of my life.

8) The time I spend with my kids in the waning hours of the evening, laying in bed next to them, asking them the "best and the worst" part of their day and singing "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" are some of the best moments of THEIR lives.  How do I know this?  They've told me so.

9) Someone is going to need me in the middle of the night...any night...every night...

10) And I know for sure, that if I could stop time right now...that's what I would do.  I have no issues with diapers, potty training, strollers, cribs, bottles, or breast feeding.  I have no issues with drugs, sex, talking back (well, in all honesty, that's starting), boyfriends I don't like, girlfreinds I don't like and driving.  Life is good.  Time could stand still and I would enjoy every minute of the toothless smiles and the wants and the needs of semi-independent children who still love their Mommy and look up to their Daddy.  

But the biggest part about "What I Know For Sure as a Mommy" is that I'm blessed to be one and that the two souls who chose me to lead and guide them through THIS lifetime are amazing...and my time with THEM is amazing...and nothing, and no one can take any of that away from any of us.   

That's pretty much all I know for sure as a Mommy.  

Be More Than You Seem

I traveled to the Eastern Shore of Maryland recently to attend the "Life Celebration" of a very dear friend.  He passed in February and the Eastern Shore, specifically a place called Oxford, fed his soul. 

Paul was a community college professor when I met him in 1989.  Being a college textbook sales representative at the time, it was my job to call on such professors and try to sell the the newest, best and brightest textbooks of the publishing season.  We continued a 21 year friendship, mostly through emails and written letters, but occasionally, we were able to get in a visit or two despite the great distance that eventually separated us. 

He was an unassuming guy.  His dress and his looks were "casual".  He was not a fashion fiend and I doubt that world ever even turned his head.  His monetary means were on the slim side of "slim".  He treasured his books, his gift for the written word and his son.  Nothing in his demeanor ever gave you even a hint that he wanted anything more for you than life's very best and he cared about every single word you, as his friend, uttered.  He was observant about the needs of those around him and did his best, where he could, to fulfill the small needs and wants of those he cared for in extraordinarily thoughtful ways.   I appreciated him for all that I believed he was and I viewed him only as I could, from my limited, yet honorable, perspective of him. 

From the memories that were shared two weeks ago in a small church, in the middle of a small town, surrounded by the Chesapeake Bay and it's resident seagulls, I learned that Paul was many things to many people.  But the common message emanating from that day was that Paul was a trumpet to the unseen capabilities of his friends and family.  Where they were blind to their own potential, he gave them sight and where they hesitated to take the first step of many on a new, promising paths, he gave them a push and held their hand all at the same time.  He was this for me as well.  But what really was amazing was that I could now see him not only from my own limited perspective, but through everyone else's eyes as well.  How truly striking it was to see the impact his life and his actions had on so MANY others. 

In the 21 years that we shared our wonderful friendship, I knew that he was a scholar and I knew that he hungered for knowledge and new experiences the way a river seeks the sea. I knew he was remarkable and inspirational.  Anyone who earns their PhD from Yale at the tender age of 73 is remarkable.  Anyone who goes on an archaeological dig in Utah for evidence of the Anasazi Indians in his late 60's is inspirational.  We spoke about life and the world, his aspirations and my plans on many occasions.  I thought I knew him well.

Here's some of the things that I DIDN"T know about Paul:  I didn't know he was from Cleveland originally.  I didn't know that he had THREE children and that one of his daughters had died in infancy.  I didn't know that he was awesome at photography and had several photos published in numerous magazines and I certainly didn't know that he did training seminars for the US Navy's submarine crews.  I also didn't know these other people at the life celebration and the extent to which Paul had also touched their lives.  There was so much more to this man than I knew, even over the course of a 21 year friendship.  These things, and many others, I learned only two weeks ago in Oxford.   

His son, "P3" as they call him, did a fabulous job of planning and executing an unforgettable life celebration for his father.  A Rennaisance man like his father, P3 uttered the words  "Mehr Sein Als Scheinen." during the church ceremony.  The translation, we were told, is " Be more than you seem."  It really struck a chord with me.  I thought the saying beautiful and profound and really was touched by the fact that it was so fitting for Paul and the way he lived his life. 

And I find those words now to be something I aspire to.  We can all "seem" to be a certain way, but isn't it our life's work to create more?  To build from what we "seem to be" something that runs a little deeper, a little more genuine.  And in keeping with that idea, perhaps we too should strive to see others with clearer, more appreciative eyes.  Perhaps we should seek to see them as more than THEY seem.   Just a thought.



Paul and Sue
St. Michael's, Eastern Shore, Maryland 1999