43. Four Colors

For the last seven or eight months I have been getting up early enough each morning to do a brief routine of exercise (10 minutes) and then sit in bed with a wooden lap labyrinth, a clip board with a mandala pencilled on a piece of paper, a small plastic basket of markers, and some extra notebook paper.

I proceed to “walk” the labyrinth with my fingers. Then I turn to the mandala and color it in with the markers. I’m sure that in the seven months I’ve never repeated a design. Some of them are just that—designs. And some of them end up having meanings. After I color the mandala I write thoughts on the notebook paper. It’s a delightful and relaxing way to start the day.

One morning it felt to me like there were meanings to four colors and their variations. The idea has persisted. For me, red means love. Green means growing. Blue means sky and reaching and stretching. And yellow means light and insight.

That’s it and so far those concepts are sticking with me.

42. Follow Your Impulse

In the days when I went into the city for an entire day, Fifth Avenue was one of the streets where I made stops. One day I passed Steuben Glass, pausing at the window to look at the magnificent pieces of glass-work. On an impulse I decided to go in. I never had before.

My eyes were filled with glass—-etched carefully, shining and sparkling—–and as I walked through the store I spied a bell. It was on a pedestal covered with black velvet—one glass bell and I wondered what it would sound like. I approached the table, reached toward it, lifted it and just tilted it to hear the sound. Quietly two guards came gently toward me saying softly, “Please put the bell down carefully.” I suddenly realized what I had done. No doubt I had just picked up a very expensive glass bell and they were panicked that I would drop it. I put it down, they backed away.

But before they came toward me, I had heard it—–the clearest sound I had ever heard—–the sound of a small and magnificent glass bell.

And what did I learn? Something—I may not be clear exactly what—except that somewhere in the world now I know there is that kind of clarity. Somewhere in the world now I know there is that kind of beauty. And I saw it. I heard it. I followed my impulse. And I give thanks for it.

41. The Kids on the Couch

Years ago when I took a Pastoral Studies Program from Blanton Peale Institute, one of the instructors was Pat Briegs. After I finished that two year program, I saw Pat for another two years with her being therapist and me being client. It was a fruitful relationship.

One of the things I will always remember about Pat was her telling me about the “kids on the couch.” She said that sometimes when you’re getting ready to strike out into something new, or you’re preparing for a venture you’ve never done before, all of a sudden you will hear the kids on the couch. They’ll say “Oh, don’t do this, it’s not going to go well.” Or another one of them will say, “It makes me worried—you know you’ve never done this before.” Sometimes they’re saying what some relative might have said to you when you were young. Or they’re repeating what some person who was very anxious might have said to you, and those negative messages pop up in your brain. So another kid on the couch will say, “I don’t think you’re quite ready for this. It scares me.”

Pat said that you should talk gently to them, reassure them, and tell them, “Shhh… Shhh… It’s going to be o.k. I’m grown up now and I can do this. You quiet yourselves, suck your thumbs if you need to, but I’m going forward.”

That image has stayed with me and meant so much to me that in my consignment and thrift store shopping years ago I started looking for a little couch and found one. It’s a white rattan little couch that now sits on top of one of my low bookcases. In the same consignment shop I kept looking around and lo and behold found three small dolls—teenager types that just fit perfectly.

As I pass them, I sometimes say, “See—it’s working out—aren’t you glad?”

And I think they are.

40. Power of Music to Relax

I’m going to tell a secret here that only a few people know. Sometimes, when I go to a concert, I tell the person I’m with, “I may fall sleep. If I do, wake me up gently ONLY if I’m snoring or making some other odd noise. Otherwise, let me sleep.”

Now it’s not that I’m intentionally rude. It’s that I know that I may become delightfully relaxed and it will be a wonderful, wonderful sleep.

I also totally believe that in that sleep, I will not miss a note of the music. It will seep into my breathing, be absorbed into my bones, and will delight my ears. For music has that power—to relax you and to fill you up with its vibration, its melodies, and its dynamics.

If you’re at the same concert, come on over and sit with me and we’ll “listen” together.

39. Be Available When Someone Wants to Talk

I learned this when my children became teenagers. For the most part, when they reached those magical ages of the teen years, they talked on their schedules. They talked when they felt like it. They shared when they wanted to. And when I finally learned that, I also learned to be available in those times, to drop what I was doing and hang out to listen and converse. Because that’s when real conversation took place between us..

Interestingly I’ve learned it’s also true of other ages, so maybe even though I still think it is particularly true of teenagers, maybe it means that if I want to be helpful, if I want to be supportive, if I want to exchange talking and listening with someone, then perhaps I need to adjust my schedule or my list of things to do—and be available.

38. Believing the Bible

People write volumes about their beliefs about the Bible. I will write paragraphs.

I believe the Bible is the most important book there is. I think there is amazing truth within its various books. I think there are secrets and clues to how to live a really wonderful life. There is a way—in the Bible.

I also believe the Bible has captured in written-down form, the progress of people in what they believe. I do not take everything in the Bible as a historical event. There are stories particularly in the Old Testament where if a battle is lost, then they believed that they had somehow disappointed God; and likewise when a battle is won, they believed that God had rewarded them because they were faithful. I don’t believe that.

I think the Bible is deserving of life-long study for things become clear at different times and what meant one thing when I was age twenty-five, can mean something else today. There are parables and metaphors and puzzles to solve within this Holy Book.

Throughout my belief system, I hold love as the most important thing.

So I’ll keep studying and looking for the gems.

37. Rainbows

Rainbows have come to mean inclusion to me—all the colors are there, nothing is left out, and it is beautiful to behold.

I believe that it is true for people too—everyone is “in.” It has been interesting to me to watch the church through the years, in particular the United Methodist Church. For a long time, race was a defining issue, and complete with quoting scripture the church decided that blacks had to be in a different structure in the church. Then that was resolved,and blacks were included. Then women were the issue—couldn’t be ordained, scripture quoted again. Once again it was resolved, and women are ordained for ministry and are bishops.

Now sexual orientation is the issue. Scripture is quoted. What I have learned so far is that love between two persons is of God. All are included. And one day in this United Methodist Church the rainbow will be complete.

36. Be With the Art

In the early 80’s I visited a friend in Boston and for two days this friend would deliver me to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts as they opened and pick me up at the end of the day, while the friend went to work.

I loved it—and made a discovery in those two days. I learned that I could go into a room of art, I could circle around and read what was written about each piece, and then I could sit on one of the benches that was in each room and I could be with the art. Sometimes I thought of other things. Sometimes I wrote a poem or a song. Sometimes I just was there. But always the art was there with me.

When I told others, they often said “But what did you do all day for two days?” I said, “I loved it—I ate in the diningroom. I dawdled in the gift shop. But mostly I sat with great art.”

35. Build Each Other Up

One of my favorite Bible verses is from 1 Thessalonians, chapter 5, verse 11: Therefore, encourage one another and build up each other, as indeed you are doing.

I wish it were true that I do it all the time but it’s one of the things I strive for.

I have a grandson who at the end of this month will be 23 years old (how could that be possible). He and his mother lived with us in Nyack and I did a fair amount of childcare joyfully with him.

One day when he was about two or three we had told him that he needed to get an adult to go up or down the steep wooden stairs with no carpeting, and he came up to me as I worked away at the typewriter downstairs and said, “Annie, Zach wants to go upstairs.” I wanted to keep working. (We had already discovered that sometimes when he couldn’t think of an answer, he would say something that was often said to him.) So as I sighed and said, “Oh Zach, what do you want to do upstairs?” he thought and then said, “Zach so proud of you, Annie!” Well you can believe we went upstairs together.

I’ve also never forgotten that story, for to tell the truth it had been quite a while since anyone had said that to me. I hope I can be a part of building up others.

34. What You Have More Of

Yesterday’s writing of what I have learned told the story of Itzhak Perlman, who played a concert with three of the four strings on his violin. And when he finished to wild applause said, “Sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.”

There’s truth in that, and for me, the other half of it is that at age 79 I have more of some things than I used to. I have more patience—in traffic jams, in doctor’s offices. I just am sure to take things with me so I can use the time. I have more understanding of people than I used to have, because by now I’m recognizing that I usually have been someplace close to the place they are and how much I wished for someone to understand. I have more love to give because it’s finally dawned me that it’s an endless supply and I will never run out. (And I celebrate that that is true of God also!)

So I may not skip again. But as one skill vanishes, it’s a wonder to behold that some other skill doubles.