no words necessary

More on Extravagant Love

"I would prefer a thousand mistakes in extravagance of love to any paralysis in wariness of fear."

 ~Gerald C. May

What do you see in this picture? I know that what I saw for many, many years was "the good shepherd" going after "the one lost sheep." It was a picture of Jesus' love for each one of us, my Sunday school teachers explained; it was an illustration of how he would have died for "just Cheryl" if she were the only one on earth with sins that demanded a payment.

Today I no longer see that. I DO see love, though. I don't see a love only a god can have for a human. I DO see the kind of love my Pop Pop showered extravagantly (SHOWERS...still...<tears>) for me. I DO see the kind of love I feel for my kids. It's extravagant. Senseless. Unconscious, sometimes. From somewhere deep inside of me that I KNOW is "the real me."

I don't always show/give this love in this "throw-my-body-over-the-cliff-for-you" spirit. Far from it. It is easier to feel this sort of love toward someone with whom you are falling in love than it is to feel it and show it to someone who has betrayed, neglected or hurt you. It is easier to express when there are chubby arms wrapped around your neck and a soft lisp of, "I wuv you, Mama," from baby lips than it is to express when a ten-year-old is yelling disrespect in your face. It is easier to tearfully declare to a someone who has sworn their eternal love to you than it is to imagine loving the person who has hurt you most in your life.

And yet ... this is the love that the real me feels, deep down. This is the love that I know would (and HAS, at times) bubble up without my choosing it to if I could see the whole picture, feel no fear of rejection or being taken advantage of, and reject the lie my ego would tell me that my love is wasted if the person whom I'm loving doesn't love me back in kind. This is the love that I just insist is IN me. And IN you.

How Christianity Screwed Up My Moral Compass

Christianity screwed up my moral compass.

Not only that, but the further I get away from organized religion and institutional spirituality, the more clear I get about what I REALLY want, and the cleaner and more reliable that moral compass inside of me becomes.

But let's back up.

Fact: when people act based on something besides their inner moral compass, they and others suffer.

Fact: the individual, part of a group who is setting the rules, is conditioned to act based on the morality of that institution.


Fact:  Institutionalized rules and codes of behavior keep those without moral compasses in check, as long as the religious/civically-obedient person is motivated, for one reason or another, to follow those rules.

Fact: throughout history, deplorable acts have been done and deemed "righteous," "what God wants," "holy," "good for the country," etc.

Fact: when people act based on their inner moral compass, even doing the opposite of what the religious or civic institution tells them is "good," some of the most courageous, the most humane and the most world-altering acts in history have been done (i.e. Jesus, Ghandi, the Buddha, the saints in the Christian tradition, Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, Mother Theresa, etc. etc. etc.).

What does this look like in real life?

In my experience, being taught to do/not do certain things because that is what people are supposed to do, because that is what the Bible or another holy book says to do, or because that is what my culture put pressure on me to do (and I am talking about the spiritual/religious cultures, as well as the wider culture I grew up in) caused the moral compass I was born with to be underdeveloped, atrophy, and become rusty and inaccurate. I knew how to obey the rules.

But get this ... I wanted to obey the rules and my under-used, under-developed moral compass was a part of why. Some part of me (the real me) KNEW that I had that moral compass and recognized the "good" in the rules and standards I was taught. But the real me also allowed itself to be deceived into believing that the rules could become my moral compass.

That's right. Being a good Christian, being a good citizen, or being a good whatever REQUIRED me to silence/shut down/not act out of what my moral compass could have and would have told me to do. Of course that's not what I was taught.

I was taught that the real me, unleashed from the rules of my faith, would lead me into everything that was bad, immoral, hurtful to others, hurtful to myself, illegal and ugly. "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked; who can know it," I recited as a child. I believed that my "natural" self was evil, degraded and not-to-be-trusted. If I wanted something, I immediately heard warning bells go off in my head. If I longed for something, I could be pretty sure that it was something I should not do or have. My instincts were human, after all, and being human was the state in which I needed deliverance from. I could do nothing good or right except when the Holy Spirit acted through me, and that would always be actions and behaviors called "good" by Christianity and the Bible.

The thing was: the moral compass in me would never quite DIE.

I cried because that "me" inside would not be silenced. I begged God to remove the desires of my heart that weren't in accordance with what he wanted for me. I hated that I could not do as the Bible taught and fully put my humanity to death. I was ashamed of the way my mind insisted on grappling with what I seemed to be the only Christian I knew who experienced as inconsistencies. Why could I not just have simple faith, I wondered? Why could I not suspend those questions and doubts? Others seemed to have no problem doing so. I felt like something was wrong with me.

Fast-forward.

Now, at 35, I'm a self-professed former-Christian. I haven't been to church in something like four years. My five-year-old thinks cross necklaces are "lowercase letter 't' necklaces." I am not sure if there's a God. I don't believe in or feel any fear about "going to hell." I admire Jesus' life, but don't think he was any more divine than I am. I am comfortable with the fact that I don't know if there's a God or not, and I am pretty sure I won't ever know while my spirit lives in my body. And (oh, yeah) I know I am more than this body. There is something I experience as being connected to others in a non-physical way. There is something solid and deep underneath my physical existence that I can feel the edges of sometimes. It's fun to talk about, read about, think about and wonder about what that is. I am confident that until I am not in a physical body any longer I will not have any answers. Just more questions. And that makes me happy and excited.

And here's the thing.

As the post-Christian me that I am today, I am not the greedy, never-satisfied, mean, vindictive or ego-centered person I was told I would become without God.  It's just not true that when I do what I "want to do" I want only that which hurts myself and others. I am more compassionate. I feel more empathy. I am more thoughtful. I act with more courage. I take more responsibility for my actions that hurt others. I do less rejecting and more accepting of others' differences. I am a more nurturing mother. I am more honest. I am kinder. I am a better friend. I feel less fear. I connect with people more and better than I ever did before. I am not perfect. But I desire to lessen others' suffering more than I ever did. I am more aware of my foibles. I have a greater desire to, when I hurt someone, make it right. I love more. I accept love more.

How is this possible?

The real me ... is ... well ....

GOOD.

There is a moral compass that I am learning to use and that is beginning to function more and more naturally. And as I learn to use that compass, I find that more and more, what I REALLY WANT, when I drill deep down, is GOOD. It is not always what someone else would call "good." And of course I can look back and see that even when I was trying to do what was right, I hurt someone and/or myself. This helps me do better the next time. But more often than I ever thought possible, when I do what I (the real me/the spirit in me) wants to do, my actions are more consistent with many, even most, of what the Bible says is morally "good."

And this takes more courage and energy than obeying rules. Any robot can do that. But when I give from that real, inside me, or I love from that real, inside me, or I act on someone else's behalf from that real, inside me, it is more sincere, more heartfelt and more brave than any actions or behaviors I did because I was supposed to, should, or must.

This means I'm learning to ask myself some questions that the Christian me would never have DREAMED of asking ...

What do you want?
Are you doing what you want to do?
What are you doing that you do not want to continue doing?
What are you doing/working on/lending energy to that makes you feel good?
What are you doing/working on/lending energy to that makes you feel bad, dishonest, anxious, sad, or frustrated?

Slowly, surely, one day at a time, I am learning to be ME. And that's good.

Another Reason Why I Am No Longer a Christian

image from here

For a few years now I have been unable to accept some of the doctrines I once held to as a Christian. In many ways, the initial "break-up" of me leaving Christianity was a very emotional and gut-level reaction. I knew that claiming to believe the core doctrines of Christianity was no longer my truth. To continue to pretend it was would be to compromise my own character and to participate falsely in something I could no longer be part of while being authentically me. Lots of people who were anywhere near my facebook, blog or mouth :) could tell you that I expressed a lot of anger and sadness toward God, Christianity, the evangelical churches I grew up in and the Bible. That was real. It was very like the sort of explosive emotions that refuse to be repressed that someone experiences before an actual "break-up," and it is the intensity of such emotions that provide the energy to remove oneself, cut oneself off from and leave behind that which one can no longer participate in honestly, authentically and with a whole heart.

The further I get from the initial "break-up" of me leaving Christianity, the less angry I am. As time has passed I have found I am more able to put what I was reacting to and rejecting into words that are logical and sober.  This is important for me, even if my thought processes and truths don't make sense to anyone else, or if others think they are based on flawed thinking. I don't need to prove to Christians that I am "right," but I do want to be able to communicate why I have personally rejected Christianity, if for no other audience but myself. The simple act of writing or talking helps me do that.

One of the Christian doctrines I have rejected for a couple of years now is that of human beings being inherently sinful and in need of God's intervention, without which they would not be capable of doing "good." You can read a another post about this here. Even more specifically, I no longer accept that good happens only when humans essentially die to their own natural way of living, speaking, acting and even loving, so that the Holy Spirit, a manifestation of God that Christians believe "indwells" them, can live, speak, act and love THROUGH them.

My experience is to the contrary and has led me to believe that there is inherent goodness in every person, and that the manifestation of that goodness (love, charity, kindness, empathy, compassion, forgiveness, courage, selflessness, etc.) is possible only when one draws on one's OWN spirit, which may or may not be connected to a kind of collective spirit. Of course there are those who do bad things; I am one. But I do not wrong myself or others because my spirit (I call it "knowing place") is by nature "bad," but because I am not, for whatever reason, acting or reacting through the lens of ego. That ego is not "evil/bad," and in fact has some very important usefulnesses, but when one only looks through ego's lens (as a young child does) one does not act from that "spirit" or "knowing place." Learning to listen to my spirit is a process and that, I believe, is the journey of life: learning to act from that place, supporting those around me in learning to act from that place and, in any way I can lessening the suffering of those around me.

What's the difference between "my" version of spirit and Christianity's version of "holy spirit?" My version of spirit is already IN you. Christianity's version comes from outside of you. Further, evangelical Christianity teaches that one must intellectually assent to its other core doctrines before that holy spirit can come into and begin to live through the flawed nature that evangelicals say we are born with. My version of spirit can not be taken away; Christianity's version is not mine unless and until I convert, ask Jesus in my heart, or a variety of other actions, depending on the denomination of Christianity you listen to. My version just IS; Christianity's version has a twist in that if you do NOT convert or what have you and invite that holy spirit to indwell you, you not only are incapable of doing anything good in this life, but will be thrown into eternal punishment and separation from God.

I have written quite a bit about my rejection of the Christian concept of eternal punishment/hell and the WAY the threat of that sort of punishment "if you don't...." hanging over a person makes love impossible. Here's one post about this. Basically, if I tell you to love me, or else, all I will be able to get from you is the love that is given out of fear, which is actually not love at all.

But it occurs to me today that there is another important reason for believing that human beings are "good" inside, rather than "evil." The idea that we are evil and that the only goodness we ever do is because God somehow has done it through the filter of us as willing conduits, doesn't just make authentic loving relationship with God impossible. It makes authentic, loving relationship with other human beings impossible, too.

In other words, if you are only as good as you are allowing God to be through you, then I can not even accept your most "ardent love" as authentic. If you are incapable of doing anything good, authentically and from your heart, apart from God, you are nothing more than a machine when you are loving me. You are nothing more than a conduit of God's love.

Likewise, the love that originates in God and comes through me to you is like the air blowing out of a heater. The heat is dependent upon the heating machine; in fact, the heat is a bi-product of a machine doing what a machine is designed to do. If my love is the heat and God is the heating machine, my loving you is not because there is anything about YOU that is inherently lovable or special. You are not chosen, picked or uniquely-loved. You are loved just the same way as everyone one else is, by God, through the machine of a human being. That is not from the heart. That is not a love that you INSPIRED in me.

Not only that, but this also means that if you aren't loving me perfectly, you are an imperfect filter of God's love. You aren't allowing God to love me through you well enough. Again, you are failing. There is no human emotion. There is no "being moved by" someone and love being an expression of that movement. There is only you and I as supine conduits. Willing pipes through which God's love can flow.

Call me crazy but that sounds not only painful, but boring as hell. How then to explain it when I am "moved by" someone or something? My heart and mind tell me that that very "movement" inside is evidence that I am more than a conduit of divine love. My own human feelings, emotions and inner movements betray that I am more than just a pipe. I am definitely not just part of a love machine.

Furthermore, if it were true that the ultimate goal is to become "less" (since, according to this doctrine, that is the only way my sinful nature con be overcome) so that God can more effectively use me as a conduit of his love, I would then feel more able to love when I become "less me." And that is not the case. If that were true, when I am "less me" others would feel more loved. And that's just not so, either.

When I FEEL and then I SEE in the eyes of another human being, the reflection of what they see when they experience me, I feel most loved. When another human being says, "This is what I see..." and I can feel that what they see is the "me" that only someone who really is LOOKING and really is GAZING DEEPLY with loving, adoring, tender eyes could see, I feel loved.

To see human beings as a conduit of God's love ignores the risk and the courage that it takes to love someone else, as well. When someone, in spite of the very real fear that their expressed love will not be returned by me, allows their feelings toward me and the beauty they see in me to float fearlessly into their eyes so I can see it there, and cares enough to put the things they see in me into their own words, I am changed utterly.

Not only that but when the person doing that courageous mirroring of me to myself has seen me at my worst...my "shadow," as Carl Jung called it...and can look past that to see the truth that I AM ONLY PARTLY THAT SHADOW... I feel loved. That kind of love is more intimate and more personal than the act of physical intimacy. Anyone who has been on the receving end of that kind of love knows the way that "I've seen you AND I love you" kind of love is more transforming than almost any other human experience.

The person who, without regard for whether their unconditional love will be returned, who STILL persists in loving someone in such an active way is not being a willing pipeline or conduit. This is an active love.
This sort of love is risky. This sort of love IS being alive. It requires a kind of standing in the fire of relationship in order to even SEE those truths of someone else, let alone SPEAK/mirror them back to the other person. It requires a kind of recklessness, even, since it is the bucket of one's own soul (or it feels like it is!) that one lowers down into the deep well of someone else's real self in order to bring back the real water that's deep, deep down.

This is unconditional love: being a mirror, mirroring the goodness in the other to them, not knowing if they will reciprocate.

This is unconditional love: knowing exactly how one wants most to be loved and giving that to another without strings attached.

This is unconditional love: loving fiercely and extravagantly without holding back.

This is unconditional love: loving the other in all these ways EVEN IF the other person doesn't even "get" or "appreciate" that you are doing so, or understand/acknowledge the risk that it took for you to do so.

This is unconditional love: even allowing the person you love to walk away if they decide to but allowing your love to follow them for the rest of your life.

This is unconditional love: to choose to continue to see the other person for who they really are, and not to label them in a negative way, even if they reject you.

This is unconditional love: to, even after you are rejected, persist as far as you are able to communicate to the person in that mirroring sort of way all the beauty and goodness you experienced of them. In other words, thank them for the gift of the time they did give you, the parts of you they did show you and the way that you were altered in positive ways by having had contact with them.

I have felt this kind of love, coming and going, with and through other human beings. I have loved this way. I have been loved this way. And the only way to give this sort of love to another being is to look for, see and mirror the "real them" that I experience. That "real them" IS their spirit. The unconditional love you and I both long for is not the kind of love that says, "if...." "unless" or "until." It doesn't know time; it positions itself with arm outstretched, love offered, without condition, Now, Yesterday and Tomorrow. That love is IN ME. Not from an outside source or in spite of my nature. That love is called forth in me BY YOU. That love in me is only possible WHEN I am fully, completely and authentically ME.

Or perhaps it's this simple.

If I was standing before you and the fullness of who you are was visible, and I said, "I love the you that you are, no changes necessary and without regard to whether or not you love me back," how would you feel?

If I was standing before you and the fullness of who you are, and I said, "I love you because God is loving through me, and here is the goodness I see in you, which is only possible because God is good through you," how would you feel?

It IS that simple. Perhaps the last two paragraphs were all I really needed to write.

p.s. If you want to read more about some of my discoveries/experiences/thoughts about unconditional love, here are a few:
This one. But only if you don't mind the "f-word."
This one, inspired by a Ghandi quote.
This one about tattoos and love is one of my most-read posts.

Last Day in the Bushes

I've lived so much of my life
In these fucking bushes.

Until today.
That's it.
I'm done.

I had carved a little home here,
Between branches,
On the earth,
Where I could do the necessitites:
Breathe
Sleep
Eat.

It has been
Small,
Itchy,
Dirty,
And either
Too warm or too cold at night.
But it's a safe home,
I've told myself,
As I picked the dry leaves out of my hair.
Year after year after year after YEAR.

There was a look-out spot.
A hole in the bushes I made
Through which I peered out,
Looking for
What I've always most wanted to see.

I dreamt about it.
Wrote about it.
Talked about it.
Thought about it.
Cried about it.
Hoped about it.
Asked for it.
CRAVED IT.
My eyes ached
From looking so hard and long
For
It.

Yes: IT.
I have just been sure
That one day I would look through
That cut-out window
Of my home in the bushes
And see...
It.
Standing there in the clearing,
At the half-way point,
Waiting for me,
Looking for me,
Perhaps calling my name.

Cheryl...I'm here.
I'm here, Cheryl.
Cheryl...I'm here.
I'm sorry it took so long, darlin'.
Cheryl ("Dear One"),
I'm sorry it took so long.
But I'm here now.
Come on out, sweetheart girl.
Come on out, my little one.
Come on out, precious woman.

It
is of course
Love.

Then
(I told myself),
When I see Love/IT,
And when I hear my named called,
It will be safe to leave my home here
In the bushes
And rush
RUSH
RUSH
Into Love's arms.

I already know how it will smell,
I told myself.
How it will taste,
How my cheek will feel against its chest,
And just exactly exactly exactly
How it will pull me closer closer closer
Than I've ever been to anyone ever ever ever.
The peace oh the peace oh the peace that would fill me then.

Thirty four fucking years.
That's a long time.
That's fucking half a fucking life.
That's fucking a damn fucking long time to be fucking waiting.

So today I realized
I'm done.
Or really I've been realizing
I've been done
For awhile now.

But TODAY is the day
I weave letters and commas and periods
Together
Into
My Doneness.
This is the day I sew Doneness
To Doneness
To Doneness
Into
Intention.
I run the needle through and through and through
All the layers of Doneness
And pull the thread tight, tight, tighter.
Knot it off with a firm tug.
Cut the thread.
Sit back and let needle and scissors fall to the ground.
My Intention on my lap,
Complete.

Can I borrow your bush knife, Mantuya
(My lovely Papua New Guinean friend
Who used to pick beetle larvae
From our yard with bare fingers
To sell at market and
To feed her children)?
Can I borrow your bush knife that stands
Sharpened
In the trunk of the banana tree?
I need it to hack this bush up.
Gonna hack it the fuck up.

Then I am going to pull what's left
Of this bush home
This fucking safe bush home
Up by the roots.
I'm leaving nothing but hard ground here.
Nothing more.
No one will know there were bushes here
Watered by tears, or
That someone spent half her life here, or
That the bare ground was a home.

And then I'm going to stride,
Mantuya's bush knife in hand,
(Because I have nothing else left to hold)
To the clearing.
I'm going to find the spot I watched.
I'm going to find that
Halfway Point,
That place I hoped It/Love would appear,
And I am going to stand there.
I'm going to lay that bush knife down
And breathe one long breath in,
And then breathe it back out.

Pause. One more long breath now, in and out.

With that air in my lungs,
I will look at all the bushes around me,
And I will feel millions of eyes
Peering out at me from behind
So many bushes.
More bushes than I can count.
I might wave a little wave and then laugh
Because look at me!
I'm standing here!
Hoooooo-weeeee....never that I'd be here!
That's funny.
That tickles me.
That's fucking funny as hell.

And I will know that behind each one
Someone crouches.
Behind one you crouch.
Behind each one someone has made
A Safe Home.
Behind one you have made
A Safe Home.
But it's pretty itchy, isn't it?
The dirt is pretty uncomfy, isn't it?
Oh I know.
Oh do I know.
Safety is uncomfy
But feels like a feather bed
When risky risky risk
Looks even MORE uncomfy.
Right?
Yes, I know.
I KNOW.

And I will call your name.
I will call your name.
And I will call your name.
And I will call your name.
And your name.
And your name.
Your name.
YOUR name.
Not his name or her name.
YOUR name.
You'll see my tears as I holler out:

I'm HERE!
I'm sorry it took so long, my dear.
Oh I know you thought you'd always be alone.
Oh I know you thought I'd never come.
Ohhhhhhh SWEET sweet sweet...
I know you nearly gave up.
I know you did give up in moments.
Oh my lovely lovely lovely sweet sweet sweet.
I DO know.
I know the tears you cried.
The way your heart fell and fell and fell.
But I'm here now.
Yes I am!
I'm here.
You need not live in the bushes anymore.
Do I mean it?
Yes! Oh my my my my MY dear dear DEAR,
I mean it.
You can let go of that branch, love.
You can let go now.
You can just
Let GO.

You see, my dear?
Do you see?
Do you see how I've changed?
How I'm not who I was?
I mean....
I AM.
But I'm not.

You see?
Let me tell you, dearest of dear ones,
What has changed -

I thought I wanted to be called FOR.
I thought I wanted to be FOUND.
I thought I wanted to be CALLED TO.

And I do. I do.
Yes.
Oh how I do.
Oh the ache still aches
And still aches
And still aches.

And.
Or rather...
But -

I'm not crouching in bushes and waiting
Any
Fucking
More.

Come Out,
Come Out,
Wherever you are!
Yes, YOU.
Come Out!
I'm here now.

I am It.
I am Love.
And I am here.



****************************
*Photograph from HERE. I ordered a print of this photo and adore it.

Life is...YOU ARE...

Watching/listening to this incredible video from Akin Salawu over and over again.

As you watch it, pay attention to how your spirit responds to this.

It feels to me like a loving parent is looking into my eyes, fully seeing and knowing the REAL me, and loving me in such an extravagant way that I can hardly keep from laughing and crying all at once.

If you are like me you will feel courage, strength and intention to be 100% REAL YOU because you know that you MUST, and that if you don't, the world will be missing out on you as surely as the rainbow (or the earth for that matter) would be less than itself with the color blue missing...

Touching my heart today

I've had this song on my ipod's "sleep" playlist, as well as my "editing" playlist, for awhile now. It's hauntingly beautiful.

Today I found this video version of the song on youtube. I have no idea what the images the video-creator used mean to him or her. All I know is that they were incredibly significant to me. This is the sort of thing that makes me think about Jung's concept of there being a "collective unconscious." I'm wondering if these images are significant to anyone else.

Or perhaps it's as simple as this. Maybe the person who collected these images and created the video is simply in touch with the path his or her own heart and spirit have traveled and unusually gifted at being able to create a picture of that, in all its joys and its sadness, and with in all its longing and pain. And maybe it's just that this path is a HUMAN path. Maybe, like any artist, the creator of the video is just uniquely adept at combining images in a way that paints a picture of what it means to be human with such accuracy that it makes me feel "understood." That make me feel "seen."

I have no idea. All I know is I love it and I wonder if you will love it, too.

How to be Alone

Why I'm Never Making Another To-Do List Ever Again

I hate "to-do"Lists.

I always have.

And yet I make them.

I always have.

I guess I just keep thinking that one day I will check every last thing off that list. And when I imagine how that will feel...well it goes something like this....

One day I will get up, ready to rock, my to-do list in hand, and will one by one, check every single task off the list. When I've checked off the last task and my work is done, I will feel a sense of accomplishment and the license to put my feet up, breathe in the sweet scent of cleaning supplies filling the house, have a slice of the delicious freshly-baked chocolate cake that of course popped out of the oven exactly on cue, the moment I finished my "to-do's." And which I can eat without guilt since I of course ran 6 miles that day. Duh...it was on my to-do list. I will push my perfectly-styled hair out of my face, since of course showering and primping was part of my to-do list, right after that run. I will take a sip of my coffee. And I will just. Breathe.

This is the kind of idiotic, idealistic and impossible thinking that prompts me make to-do lists that I never DO. And you don't have to tell me this all adds up my being a "type A"/obsessive compulsive nutcase. I'm well aware.

What always happens is I check a few off and then the sheer number of things still remaining overwhelms me and I end up rebelling against my own to-do list! Then I feel like I'm a loser at everything: Loser Mama, Loser Friend, Loser Writer, Loser Blogger, Loser Editor, Loser Ship-You-the-Stuff-You-Ordered-From-Me, etc. I feel frustrated with myself and can't even feel good about the stuff I DID get done.

It's really awful. Except that I really like writing with my favorite Sharpie Extra Fine pens. Like...a lot.

But anyway...
I think I get LESS done when I have an exhaustive to-do list with dozens of items than if I just get through the day doing what I can, when I can.

So today I tried something new.

Instead of writing tons of tasks I am quite aware need doing and would do, without the to-do list (dishes, countertops, moving laundry through, picking up the morning mess the kids left behind, etc.), I wrote down names.

Yes. Names. Four names to be exact.

Two were friends. One was a writer I'm working with. One was my 4-year-old.

All four people were people with needs I specifically wanted to address today. I could have made a list of individual tasks related to those names that would have overwhelmed and probably shut me down. But somehow four names on a paper, all four whom I like a great deal, felt do-able. I hoped.

And it worked!

It kind of surprised me! There were unexpected phone calls, interruptions I hadn't anticipated, additional tasks I'd not counted on that presented themselves, pink applesauce I hadn't planned on finding smashed into my rug, but I took them in stride because they didn't block me from dealing with the four people on my list.

I texted one friend. I emailed the other friend and then worked on some art stuff she and I are collaborating on. I talked to the writer on the phone, re-read some writing he did and then emailed him some follow-up thoughts. And I purposely spent time just sitting and scratching my son's back, listening to him talk about Thomas the Train and who has "passenger cars" versus who doesn't.

And I feel...strangely peaceful.

My hair is not done. I never put make-up on. But I didn't go anywhere and James thinks it's cute when my hair is all crazy! I didn't push "enough" laundry through. But there are four people who I loved, connected with, took care of, reached out to, helped, encouraged and gave my best.

And it feels so great. And I'm going to keep doing this, as long as it continues to work. No more To-Do lists for me! I'm going to make People Lists.