IT IS WHAT IT IS

Acceptance. Accept it because there is nothing I can do about it. Accept it because -- it is what it is. Well, yes, maybe. Accepting what is because we REALLY can't do anything about it is one thing; but what if we can? Do something, that is. How to decide.

There is a cancer that is going to kill the husband of my friend and co-worker. Accept. There is nothing to be done. Prayer, yes. But for healing? I don't think so. This is in the liver and probably the pancreas. Death. I can accept this "what is." I can pray for the family. I can pray with the family. I can pray for courage and strength and quality of what life there is left. It is not in me to pray for a "miracle." I have a hard time with miracles. But I digress.

Iraq. Now there is something I cannot accept. On many fronts. It is what it is, but I don't accept it. AND there is nothing that I know of that I can do about it. Prayer to end it, maybe. Prayer for courage and strength and hope. And peace. Yes, prayers for peace. And that isn't in the miracle department. It is in the possible department. Well, I know, all things are possible with God. It's just that somethings are more possible than others.

So that's the big stuff. What about the little stuff. Accepting one's self. Accepting who I am and what I can do and what I can't do. Trying to figure out the "is" of "what is." What do I accept and what do I change -- and how do I decide. I can accept white hair -- it is what it is. I could color it or just let it be as who I am. I am right handed. I could probably change that, it used to be done all the time, but I am naturally right handed. Accept. I am a natural clutterbug. Clutter has a way of gathering around me. My "stuff" is always in disarray. It is what it is but I can't accept it. This is one thing I have the ability to change -- and frequently try, it just doesn't seem to last. I keep trying.

I keep trying on a lot of fronts and frequently wonder if it is good enough. Then I wonder how much good enough is. Today I am going to give myself a B+ bordering on A- for just thinking about all this stuff. I'll keep praying. And I'll keep trying.

STUCK

I'm stuck. Stuck in a mire of inertia. Don't know how I got here. Don't know how to get out. I think I have been getting here for a while. Maybe a long while. For years I have been trying to do things the "right" way -- the way I think they should be done -- the way other people have decided that they should be done. I think it is finally time to just do things in a way that comes naturally.

Early on I trained myself to write in the upright loopy script that was the distinctive style of my mother. I learned it well. Then a few years ago I began to write "Morning Pages" in the style of Julia Cameron as suggested in her book "The Artist's Way." SO, for a few years I have been feeling guilty because I cannot just roll out of bed in the morning and write off three pages of stream of consciousness. I can do three pages but it is after reading the morning paper with my cereal and while having coffee. Here I am doing morning pages in a way that isn't sanctioned and in a loopy upright script that is not uniquely my own. I think this might be indicative of the way I have lived/am living my life.

Time to be me. And I don't really know how to go about that. Some weeks ago there may have been some unconscious bubbling up when my hands began to cramp as I wrote my pages and I decided to attempt the script that I learned in second grade. Surprise, no more cramps. AND at about that same time I decided that the three pages of stream of consciousness was getting boring, even to me. Time to write the stories of my childhood.

Why, then, am I feeling these pangs of stuckedness? Maybe I am in a place of between. A place to wait. A place to observe. A place to renew. A place of grace to comfort me and let me know that whatever is, is okay.

NEWSLETTER

I had forgotten what an angst this was. I edited the church newsletter for a few years several years ago. It got to be a tremendous burden, caused me all sort of agita, and became a dull and lifeless publication. It has gone through a couple editors in the time that has passed and here I am again.

This has added in yet another learning curve. I did some research and discovered that newsletters can be done with text boxes and columns and imported graphics and pictures and all kinds of new stuff. Fortunately, I am keeping it simple this first time around. Also, fortunately, people are getting their copy into me on time. Unfortunately, the deadline looms.

A newsletter is really an important communication piece for a church. Also good evangelism. It is also a very heavy responsibility. But, I really wanted to relieve our priest from such a time consuming task. I feel that her time is more productively spent in other pursuits. This is something that I can do -- for now.

The goal is to get the newsletter in such a format that I will be able to teach the church secretary how to manage it. I have projected six to twelve months to accomplish this. This is the first month. The format is going pretty well. I am learning about those quirky little text boxes and relearning the idiosyncrasies of columns. I can do this.

HIATUS

I seem to have been on a hiatus from exercise, dietary regime, housework, church work, dog grooming, maybe even life. So what is going on here? Could be that my "self" needed a rest from my "self." Let the body and the brain have a break, get outside of my routine. And all of this is okay if the consequences are not dire. But dire was beginning to happen.

When I noticed that my right hand was reach around to support my lower back every time I got up from a sitting position, I realized that something wrong was developing. Two causes, actually. Lifting things that are too heavy and not doing the back exercises. Secondly the digital numbers on the scale were beginning to increase. The accumulating dust was beginning to be noticeable. The pile of church related necessaries was growing. And Gabriel was a yukky mess.

Back to basics. Sanoma Diet Wave 1and plan the meals ahead. Morning treadmill for thirty minutes and then floor exercises for back. Vacuum a little -- very little, this is a very boring job. Get Gabriel's coat brushed and eyes cleaned. Finish up the Vestry Minutes and get them e-mailed.

I became sluggish and introspective during the hiatus. Introspection is good if it produces new insight. Sluggish is not good. The routine of healthy and productive living seems to energize me.

SURPLUS

It is October. This is the traditional "stewardship" month in the Episcopal Church. We cajole and plead, quote scripture, relate our individual faith stories, and hold up the needs to maintain the physical plant that "God" has given us to care for and protect. And then we hope for the best as we Vestry members struggle to form a budget around what has been pledged. In these days of dwindling membership, dwindling interest in the church property, and even dwindling interest in the church mission, it is a struggle. Some of us get it. Some of us do not.

I would suggest for those of us who do NOT, that we should look at out surplus. It was pointed out in today's sermon that self storage units are popping up all over the place. And why? Because we do not have room to house all of our belongings. Not all of our NEEDS, all of our belongings. We have so much that we have to pay to store it someplace other than where we live. One wonders why we need it then. One wonders why. Why do we have "stuff" that isn't necessary daily, isn't necessary to be in our home. Why? Think of your attic as the storage place. Same questions. Why?

Then there is this word "abundance" that church people like to throw out at us. Giving from "abundance." Is that the same as surplus? Somehow it seems different to me. I tell myself that I give from abundance. Do I? Surplus seem to me like excess. What is left over in great amounts after what has been necessarily used. Abundance seems to me an amount that is enough to satisfy the immediate needs. Surplus goes way beyond that. I want to give from abundance. So what do I do with the surplus?

THE ROAD

I have just finished reading Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" -- for the second time. I read it the first time because is was recommended by a member of our Book Club. I just finished reading it again because same Book Club decided to use it as our October discussion.

It is tortuous reading. Especially if one has a beloved son. Also tortuous because it is so bleak and hopeless. But even in that there is love, a love beyond comprehension. And trust, a tust that comes from nowhere and everywhere. And God? Is God here? A long ago remembrance that, yes, there was a belief in a God who cared. Where is that God on the road?

Reading the book has kept me in a glum almost depressed mood for some days. Bill is not happy with this mood, but there it is. I become inordinately immersed in the books that I read and this one has effected me more than any in a very long time. I am now very much aware of the food that I discard. When I remove the leaves and core pieces of my cauliflower, that by the way are going onto the compost pile, I am thinking how much nourishment there is and how much the boy and the man would have derived from it. And so I cut sparingly and eat more of the core and the stem. The inside pith and seeds of my red peppers are becoming acceptable too. Banana peels? -- compost. But there must be a lot of nourishment there too. We are a wasteful people.

The water that goes down the drain is also a despair. And the clothes that I have in abundance, the shoes, sweaters. And blankets. Surplus. So much surplus. We want more closet space to hold our surplus. If we had to carry the necessities on our backs, what would we pack. Similar to the question of what one book would you choose to have on a deserted island. But in this case, no book would do. If subjected to the lowest of basics, what would we really choose?

BELLY ACHE

I have a "green apple" belly ache. Actually it is NOT a green apple belly ache, it is a raw cauliflower belly ache. And this is opposed to the raw broccoli belly ache. All are painful. All result in a lot of gas -- translate that as pain in the gut and shshsh... "farts." Could that be farts, or fasts or whatever. Pain nonetheless.

The Sonoma Diet is big on these raw first tier vegetables. Free food. Eat as much/many as you like. Great fiber. Low calorie. Broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, celery, Nothing is ever said about the abdominal gas OR the abdominal pain. The pain is almost unbearable. Doubling over pain. Hard to get through the afternoon at work. Hard to get through the evening at home. What is going on? Don't know. Just know that there is pain, there is gas, and maybe, luckily tomorrow the scale will register minus at least a pound. Maybe.