Carter follows me out the door. “Wait, I’ll come with you!” he says, slightly giddy, ducking into the backseat before I can object. “I kind of feel like we’re on a date or something. Don’t you?”
The thought had not occurred to me I confess. “But maybe we should start a new tradition,” I offer. “Going out to the grocery store at ten o’clock at night to buy Phish Food and Rocky Road whenever we run out.” He laughs at how funny that sounds and then says he wonders what it would feel like for all the windows to be rolled down at night like this. I succumb to the power of suggestion and am obliged by instant delight. “See?” he sparkles from the backseat. “My dreams are coming true!”
It’s all I can do to not pull the car over and kiss him until he protests.
I go with the only other reasonable option which is to ask him one of Life’s Big Questions like any mother tortured by metaphysical matters. I have him held captive all of two minutes in the drive between our house and the Safeway. Why not?
“Carter.” I venture, trying to hold the space between breezy and deep all at the same time. “Do you believe in God? Tell me the truth.” It’s a legitimate question since we aren’t exactly swimming in a sea of faith over here in the urban family. Atheism is the perspective of choice with a small contingency sporting a nice garden variety of Buddhism meets the New Age. I’m thinking monotheism doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.
Carter, however, says, “Yep,” cheerfully and without apology. “I believe in God AND I believe in science.” He is so happy with this answer he can hardly stand it.
“Me, too! Me, too!” I tell him, figuring that it paid off to sit through Nacho Libre last night, Jack Black be praised after all.
“AND,” he adds, serious now. “I believe in Jesus AND the cross and all that stuff. AND,” he adds taking a slightly comic turn. “I believe in technology!” This cracks him up all the more. It’s the perfect synthesis of the spiritual mother and the atheist father. The perfect answer in a true and tried land mine. Jimmy Carter himself couldn’t be more diplomatic or more sincere.
I ask him if he thinks we can tell anyone about the God part, since I’m always wondering how to navigate that part myself. “Yeah,” he says, after thinking about it a bit. “But we might want to wait til later. When we’re not in the car.”
We run through the store, pick up our ice cream, refrain from spraying the whipped cream directly from the can into our mouths on the ride home, choosing instead to sing.
“How about one million bottles of beer on the wall?” Carter offers, cheerful and happy–faith and science in the same basket, east and west, mother and father, in one perfect whole.
I suggest a hundred instead, for the sake of fewer syllables, and we sing to ninety-seven on our two minute ride all the way home.
Jen Gray sent me this Rumi poem in song form recently and I can’t stop listening to it. So, so beautiful.
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.
–Rumi
May you find the field your soul remembers from before you were born, and may you know deep down that deep peace always waits beyond the confines of mercy or judgment. Happy, happy Friday.
Tracey trying out her amazing wings on the Oregon Coast
Two years ago I landed in an art and creativity birds-of-a-feather session with Tracey Clark at a Blogher Conference in San Jose. It was nothing short of a miracle since Lisa Stone dismissed 900 women almost simultaneously to follow the leaders of each tiny group out of a huge ballroom across a courtyard to a dozen tables around the pool. There was so much happy chaos that she called out to us, “And if you can’t find your group, don’t worry! The Universe will take you exactly where you need to be!” I had never heard the Universe invoked at a conference before, but she was so right.
I had no idea that day that Tracey would come to be one of the dearest friends I have ever had. There’s a quality to our bond that continuously sustains me and I’m so deeply thankful our paths crossed that sunny California afternoon. Tracey is one of the most hard-working, loving, humble, creative, generous, powerful, down-to-earth and caring people I have ever met, and today I am so honored to call her my soulsister and friend.
Happy Birthday, girl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
Friends, fans or kind well-wishers, please send your birthday wishes here.
If you want what visible reality
can give, you’re an employee.
If you want the unseen world,
you’re not living your truth.
Both wishes are foolish,
but you’ll be forgiven for forgetting
that what you really want is
love’s confusing joy.
–Rumi
Don’t you love the phrase love’s confusing joy?
Tonight I have the sense of walking like a baby, arms up, divine hands steadying my steps. There’s deep nurture here and also kindness–both leave me incredibly grateful.
What’s giving you joy today? What foolish wish would you lay down for love’s confusing joy?
I’m making up for the long summer where I posted once a week. Apologies to your overworked reader inbox. Here’s the first of many Rumi quotes this week…
The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.
You must ask for what you really want.
Don’t go back to sleep.
People are going back and forth across the doorsill
where the two worlds touch.
The door is round and open.
Don’t go back to sleep.
–Rumi
Here’s praying you have the courage to stay awake today, the faith to walk on water and the presence of mind to know every last bit of it is an invitation to joy.
more behind the scenes shots with the SuperSisters tribe here
While I’ve been crying in my beer over here, all kinds of amazing things have been happening in other areas of my life. The most exciting is that a year and half long conversation with the amazing people at PBS is giving way to a brand new blog written by myself and my sisters Kristen (aka Mommy Needs a Cocktail) and Patience (aka Kindness Girl). Our fourth sister Kate is keeping me going by sending fabulous fashion to one of my favorite writing subjects, the incredible Madeleine.
SuperSisters is a PBS parenting blog with a focus on child development which basically means all the stories about my kids that you’d normally find here, you’ll find there. I just wrote a piece about Carter having a crisis about a less than inspiring new teacher and the peanut gallery’s (Madeleine + her cousins) take on how to solve the emotional firestorm. If you go over and leave fifty comments, I swear I will be so deeply happy and grateful.
There’s a lot of things I could say about PBS after spending countless hours in their hallways, sometimes with my kids and their five younger cousins making happy chaos, but the truest thing is this: you will not find nicer, more playful or genuinely caring people on the planet. I knew doing this blog would be good for my writing resume, but I had no idea how good it would be for my heart.
Having allies in Jean Crawford and Jeannine Harvey has been a high point in my life this last year–these women are not only smart and incredibly dedicated, they are also so much fun. I once retrieved one of Jean’s shoes from underneath a rolling taxi AND ate the most decadent chocolate on earth with Jeannine, all on the same day. That’s saying something.
Jean and Jeannine have also given us carte blanche to write whatever the hell we want about parenting–a huge act of faith on PBS’s part, especially in light of the fact that not one of us is capable of coloring inside the lines if we don’t want to. I respect them for that and am really loving telling stories about my kids and their cousins in such a supportive space–I don’t think they’ll be disappointed.
Here are some gems from our first week of the launch:
About twenty people have sent me this video over the last few months and for whatever reason I haven’t looked at it until now. Why I picked the night that Odette and I went to hear the boys from War/Dance play and Samite Mulondo sing, I don’t know, since you would think two hours of the two of us listening with tears streaming down our faces would be enough for one night, but no. Some people just can’t get enough.
I really don’t know what to do with you, Africa. You are the lining of my heart, the resting place of my soul, my mother, my baby, my long lost friend. I feel completely undone by you and more than a little ashamed that it’s been this long and I can’t even remotely begin to get it together. I have lots of categories for you and rationalizations and God knows endless psycho-babble to explain you to myself, but at the end of the day there are no words, just deep love. For you, for me and so many things about us both that continue to defy explanation.
I want you to know, Africa, that my heart is in your hands. I am trusting your wise women and your young sages, your ancient dreams and your undying faith in the future. I am believing that something greater is holding even you and that I don’t have to be afraid of It or you or all the unknowable things that string like a lifeline between us. I am holding on to Love and giving myself over to the mystery that brought you into my life. I am standing in the place of peace, trusting that there is nothing for me to do but tell us both the truth and tend to my life, one tiny moment at a time.
My heart broke in a million pieces tonight to listen to your songs and to watch your dances, the dances that have been born out of deep pain and even deeper hope. I want you to know I see all the ways you are rich, when I am so very poor. Because of your beauty and your courage, I am learning what it means to be patient. Because of you, I am learning what it means to stand strong with my open hands, not knowing how the story ends. Because of you, I know how to cry again. Because of you, my heart is being made whole. All I can say is thank you.
All my love,
Mukanyemina (the name Odette’s mother gave me which means she is one of our branches–from the beginning)
How dear it is to have your own personal healer and sage. If you live in Portland and are hungry for a deep soulful alternative to traditional therapy, send me an email and I’ll fix you up with my sweet Maya.
How essential it is to have Love as one of the values you hold close. Thank you Kelly Rae for gently shepherding my heart home on this one.
How good it is to find your strength, the place where holding space feels like magic. (Photo of me and Kelly Rae by soulseer Karen Walrond)
How healing it is to watch a kindred spirit take her place as a keeper of the heart’s truest tales. Thank you Jen for being my tribe.
How kind the companionship is of this dear earth and the knowledge of all the ways the Universe upholds, enfolds and surrounds every step of your journey.
How happy it is to see yourself through the eyes of another, through the eyes of companionship and deep love. (Photo by my sweet Andrea)
My name is Jen Lemen. I'm messy, hopeful,
enthusiastic and helplessly in love with the idea
that stories can change you and me forever.