A Girl Named Corn Syrup

Visit Sarah Selecky's site to sign up for daily prompts.

Visit Sarah Selecky’s site to sign up for daily prompts.

I just signed up at http://www.sarahselecky.com for daily writing prompts. Here is today’s prompt: On a train for two hours. Start with a bottle of corn syrup. Write by hand for 10 minutes.  If you are looking for a gentle push, check out Sarah’s site.

Here’s what I wrote this morning:

Karo. Kara looked at the bottle on the tray and thought “one letter and I’d be corn syrup.” The train rustled as it sped around the corner. She was on her way to her grandmother’s island in South Carolina. The funny thing was her grandmother did name her after corn syrup. When she filled out the birth certificate, her unsteady handwriting made the “o” look like an “a.”

It had been three years since she’d been back to Tola Island. The train would take her close to the ferry landing. She bet Mr. Fred would be waiting for her at her stop. He loved Kara’s grandmother and had been courting her for twenty-seven years since her grandfather died of complications from his diabetes. See, corn syrup, molasses, white sugar, brown sugar, they all had a special place in Grandmother’s kitchen. Kara grew up with red velvet pancakes for breakfast, cherry pie for lunch and brownie towers for dessert. For most kids, this would be a dream come true, but Kara longed for carrots, radishes, even pearl onions she used to pull from Mr. Fred’s garden.

Kara hadn’t visited since she left for Castleton College in Vermont. She loved the sunset leaves and the open sky that felt different from being surrounded by water. Her mother was supposed to have gone to Vermont for college but then she got pregnant the summer before her senior year in high school and died in childbirth.  That’s how Kara came to be raised on desserts and her grandmother’s wisdoms. “Don’t leave the sheets drying in the wind too long or you’ll have flying dreams and wake up tired.” “Before you eat breakfast, turn your chair clockwise three times so the spirits work in your favor ‘til sundown.”

Some of Grandmother’s wisdoms were so ingrained that Kara just gave up resisting. Her freshman year she used to discreetly turn her chair in the cafeteria at breakfast by hanging her jacket on the back of the chair and fooling with it. Finally she gave up. Her friends didn’t care about her habits since a lot of them were kids that had been treated for things like OCD. The train was nearing her stop. As she descended to the platform, there he was, his gray handlebar mustache perfectly trimmed, his thick full mane glowing in the afternoon sun.

“Kara, my belle from the North. I can see the evergreens in your eyes. Come here child and give me a hug.” Kara smiled at this gentle soul who loved her with his whole heart.

“Mr. Fred, you look just like the day you took me to the train.”

“Come now child, there’s some surprises for you in the car.”

When Kara leaned into the passenger window, she saw the most beautiful basket of vegetables all washed and waiting for her: snowpeas, carrots, pearl onions, tomatoes and red peppers. Kara smiled and lifted the basket onto her lap.  She couldn’t wait to bite into one of Mr. Fred’s pearl onions. They’d fortify her for the onslaught of desserts Grandmother Cully would have waiting. Mr. Fred even wove sprigs of fresh rosemary into the handle.  Kara pulled off several leaves and rubbed them between her fingers inhaling their oily perfume. She bit into an onion, imagining roasted red potatoes doused in olive oil.

Wallpaper Your Heart

I want to wallpaper
your heart my heart
with verse
spinning
Rumpelstiltskin
gold
threading Maryland
Chicago Charlotte
St. Petersburg in a dream made real
by teachers holding court near the ocean
ghosts of boardwalks
dappled in stories
of cotton candy popcorn
Taylor Pork Roll
what news shall we find
in the print of tumbleweeds fallen
from wire trash cans
your pen mine
teleport
cosmic connect
vulcan mind meld
I bow down
in gratitude
to you
for waking my muse
this Saturday morning

Two or three things I know for sure…

She told me: “When you get to the desert, I want you to feel the sun on your face and do your best Wonder Woman spin.”

Play in the mud
Dance
Sing
Cry
Spin around in the sunlight
Say thank you
Listen
Just listen
Go analog for an hour
Pick up a pen
Write to someone no longer with you
Heal thyself
Believe in something
Believe in someone
Believe in yourself
Know that you are lifted
By blades of grass
Soil
Even the cracked pavement
Watch the clouds
Steps up and sideways
Rest
your mind
your heart
the chatter of monkeys in your head
Breathe in and out
Learn a new word
a new tune
smile at someone who needs it
even if that’s you in the mirror
untangle angst
hand it over
scoop up joy
add chocolate chips
choose
everyday

Creating Laughter and Fill You Up Memories

ImageResearch may not [yet] show the benefits of good belly laughs, but plenty of experts on combatting depression and finding happiness, support the importance of social connections and laughter.  But what about really laughing something that you have done?  The photo in the Belly Laughs post just prior to this (bear with me as I learn how to use this blogging tool) shows one new Kindergarten parent (and clearly the only one) willing to go under the dunking bucket at the back-to-school bash.  And why not?  I laughed so hard and cooled off at the same time.  Seeing my son’s face and hearing his laughter and all of the laughter of the kids, only made me laugh more and feel good.

How about the embarrassing situations? I remember once when I was in my early 30s and had just flown back from seeing friends in London. I deluded myself into thinking that I could work the very next day.  Well, that day, a client called me and asked that I join him for business drinks that evening.  I knew that I should have said no because my motor skills, not to mention my conversational skills, dwindle the evening after a flight abroad. Common sense was not on my side and so I went to meet him at one of those wood-paneled conservative bars at The Jefferson Hotel in Washington, DC. I’m laughing as I write this. Imagine sitting in the semi-darkness with the requisite glass table, silver bowl of nuts, and candles burning in glass votive vases.  Yes, you know where this is going.  At some point, when drinks were over and we were getting up to leave, I turned and caught my bag on the bottom of the glass table—which technically was just a glass top balanced on a small, short base.  In my defense, not the most stable surface.  Well, let’s just say, I pulled a bit of a Bridget Jones and tipped the table, the nuts, burning candle, the whole deal and at that point, I was sleep-deprived and punchy, and yes, I just laughed. And then I helped to clean up the nuts as my client tried to help place the glass top back on its sorry little base.

Or what about the time when I was six months pregnant and was leading a group of 400 people in a call and response “rah-rah” let’s get excited moment at the end of a three-day meeting where I had put in 14-hour days and by that point, after three times saying, “The Power of Three!” and listening to the audience respond, I suddenly had this out-of-body exhausted experience and forgot what I was saying. All 400 people were looking at me and waiting for to chant back at me and I was looking at them like, “What are you guys waiting for?” After laughing at myself, I remembered to shout, “The Power of Three!” one last time.

These times of laughter are so important. And remembering that we are not perfect and we were not meant to be perfect. Take my mother’s kitchen shelf.  I will not be posting a picture of that in this blog.  I will however tell you that we have the best collection of unattractive funny family photos on that shelf.  You know the ones.  From Christmas morning, crazy hair, awkward expressions.  From passport photos. Hideous fashion choices.  Well, whenever my mom feels down (and yes, she includes pictures of herself on this shelf), she just looks at us and starts laughing.  I actually carried one of my favorites of myself with me in my day planner—very unattractive shot—when I was rather overly excited on Christmas morning about the Scrabble game that my brother had bought me. You would have thought I just won a car on Oprah.  Another fantastic tradition that I highly recommend is to send bed head photos of yourself to your closest friends.  One friend of mine will just sporadically send a winner early in the morning and it’s such a pick-me-up to see the sculpture that is her hair.

What are the memories of laughter that you are creating in your life?  Recently I had some friends over for dinner and the kids all dressed up like superheroes.  Maya used my homemade Wonder Woman accessories and she came to me, sweaty and breathing heavily and said, “Tia Becca, my headband keeps falling down!” And I said, “Don’t worry honey, I can fix it.” And I made a little loop of masking tape and taped it to her head. Her mother and I broke down laughing and I said, “You know these are the memories she will have that will make her feel so happy when she is older.”  I have that feeling in the deepest parts of my heart for the “Connie kids.” They are my six cousins who helped to take care of me when my mom was a single mom and their mom was a single mom. They were like a pack of loving wolves and I was the youngest.  No one ever bothered me when I was with my cousins.  We ran barefoot many times outside and played football and wall ball on the streets of Philly.  When I slept over I could stay up late and watch TV with them because my favorite Aunt Connie often worked late as a bartender.  And in the morning, since there were six of them, they had tons of different cereals and I could mix and match as many as I wanted in one bowl. (Right now is the point where my Aunt Connie would tell you about the time I was a toddler and she left me alone in the kitchen for just a few minutes and I ate an entire block of cream cheese without crackers by myself.) These moments are the ones that make me know that I can see my cousins at any time and in my heart, go back to that kitchen, or to their basement where we did shows, or to the dining room where I got hold of children’s scissors and cut my bangs as short as Frankenstein’s because I couldn’t get them in a straight line.  These are the cousins that gave me my own song, “Tra la la la la la, Rebecca’s comin’ here to stay!”

Thanks to my husband’s curiosity on our Netflix instant download account, I recently watched the movie Happy. Promise yourself that by the end of the year, you will see that movie.  It’s a documentary from around the world with research-based information on the study of happiness.  You’ll see what’s happened to countries like Japan who have, in an effort to rebuild itself, concentrated heavily on extrinsic goals like money, image and status (the U.S. is quite close to this) and that country has faced increased deaths from stress and exhaustion. Focusing on intrinsic goals like personal growth, relationships and the desire to help has proven to increase happiness. Volunteering is one of the most powerful ways that you can feel alive and healthy.

So what makes you happy? When was the last time you belly laughed?  I hope it was while reading this blog.  Sending you superhero powers to find the joy in some part of your day.

Wishes and Rituals: Statues as Cell Phones

Belief in believing is learned. A dear friend of mine deep in sorrow once said to me amidst tears and the runny nose of a person who saw no relief in her future: You are good at wishing. You just write those things down. You ask. I can’t do that.”

You know when you really love someone. A friend like this one. You are there with them in their grief, your heart hangs low, hands and arms open, then she says something like this and you want to say, “But that’s impossible! Of course, you can wish! You just ask!” I channeled my Uncle John and kept my mouth shut for a little while longer. She listed all the things I had wished for: living in Chicago (or Spain or San Francisco), being near water, having a solo art show, meeting my husband. The way she talked about my life, my wishes made it seem like there was a button I had pushed each time and the wish just appeared. There were no apps back then, but I bet there’s a wishing app now.

I’ll share three of my wishing rituals with you in the hopes that if you find yourself bereft or lacking in asking, you may borrow, adopt or adapt any of these approaches.

1.    The Wishing Journal

This is a place where only wishes go. I checked this journal over the weekend and many of the wishes itemized by my dear friend were chronicled in this book. And yes, many of them, most have come true. What’s fascinating to me is that I stopped writing in this journal in 2010 and those wishes were not just for me, but for loved ones. For the brain injury of a friend not to result in a tumor, for a family member to move through the grief of a dead friend and for the simplicity of happiness for another family member.  These wishes have also come true.

2.    The Annual Letters

Another ritual which I have practices sometime around the new year focuses around writing two letters. One letter is dated on the actual day that I wrote it and the other is dated one year later on that same day. In the present day letter, I write a litany of thanks for all of the events in the present year.  One year, I even pulled my Franklin-Covey planner and just went through the personal and work achievements, fun, celebrations, money earned and bills paid.

The second letter looks back in gratitude for all of the amazing things that happened. I did this before my son was born, but when I was pregnant. I did this in the early years of my relationship with my husband. I celebrated our harmony and our mutual compassion at a level we aspired to reach, but I acted as if, I expressed appreciation for what we already were, and in so doing, with faith, it was called into being. That is the magic of wishing. At the back of this journal, I glued and pasted some of my favorite post cards and photos declaring more desires. Mostly they focused on the people in my life. The beautiful places that I love. And feelings I wanted to feel. During some of my saddest, darkest hours, these images reminded me that I believed, or at least that I wanted to believe in those things.

3.    The Wishing Box

You can use a shoebox, an artsy pretty box, whatever you like as a wishing box. Take slips of paper, index cards, photos, whatever you choose, write down your wishes, date it, be clear about what you want and when, think it, feel it, say it and put it in your wishing box. This can be a private endeavor or a family project. Periodically, visit your wishes.

My son recently started Kindergarten at a Catholic school. No matter what you believe, whether it’s a benevolent universe, Allah, God or like Robert Kirk, the 17th century Scottish Episcopalian minister who wrote about Elves, Fauns and Fairies, I hope that you will take heart in this story. Last night during Jacob’s bath, I was teaching him our address. Afterwards, as he was getting ready to go to bed, he asked, “Does God have a phone number?” I misheard him and started to recite our phone number, then realized what he asked. “Wow, that’s a great question.” “Does Mary have one? Does Jesus?” Suddenly, I had visions of God, Mary and Jesus with cell phones, talking and texting. It was awesome.

I said, “You know, one way that I talk to God is that I use this statue. (We Catholics rock with the icons, images and the like.) So I pulled down my wooden statue of Mary holding the baby Jesus (it’s about 10 inches high). I explained that it belonged to my grandmother, his nana’s mom. So he immediately started talking into the back of Mary like it was the speaker of a cell phone. He said, “Thank you God for our health and our clothes and our food.” Then he took me to the bathroom, pulled a q-tip out for each of us and wet it in the sink and told me to repeat after him. We began reciting gratitude for birds, trees and kindergarten. He then pulled some of the cotton off of the q-tip and dropped it into the sink. I was instructed to do the same.

So I invite you, be it a journal, letter, box, statue or q-tip, create your own wishes, your own rituals and ask! Ask! Ask!

Excellence and Habit

Excellence is an art won by training and habituation.  We do not act rightly because we have virtue or excellence, but rather we have those because we have acted rightly. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.

Aristotle (384-322), philosopher

This is a quote which I received from www.values.com— think about signing up to receive their quotes.  They center around various themes and always give me a lift.

Wild Mushroom and Goat Cheese Omelet

And speaking of excellence–contemplate this amazing wild mushroom and goat cheese omelet from Le Pain Quotidienne in Washington, DC.  Live in the now with all of your senses.

Gratitude: Living Above Dirt

Note: “The views, opinions and judgments expressed are solely my own. Message contents have not been reviewed or approved by AARP.”

Welcome to Rebecca Inspires Now – a place where positive energy, brilliant ideas, art and food converge.  There are so many of you who share amazing stories of reinvention, imagination and triumph.

This is a place of limitless possibilities.  Inspiration for volunteering. A healthy life. Power. Art. And food. I invite you to join me on this long-planned journey. (Self-imposed deadlines really work!) If you like what you read, feel free to share with friends, family, colleagues, maybe even someone who needs peace and inspiration.

I’ll start by sharing some excerpts and links to some online resources that have been motivating me to new heights. First, http://www.daniellelaporte.com/ — Danielle LaPorte is the author of The Fire Starter Sessions. She’s not always for the faint of heart, but she has inspired me to look at how I operate and here’s a thought: do what comes easy. Danielle calls it “The Metrics of Ease.” What if you just got out of your own way and truly functioned at a level that aligned with your talents. Imagine how you’d feel going to work each day. Or going to volunteer. Or going to care for your aging parent. Or living in a relationship or a marriage. Imagine if you said to yourself, “this is easy.” And in some cases, “This is fun and easy.”

Admittedly, everything doesn’t always flow the way you might like. However, if I may quote one of my best friends in the universe, Tindi, “I am exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment.”  (Right now, by the way, I’m writing to you from the carpet at Gate 25 at National Airport waiting for a two-hour delayed flight.)   Try saying that the next time you are stuck in traffic, in a line or waiting at the doctor’s office. And let’s take it a step further–what if you actually said “thank you” for that traffic jam, that opportunity to practice patience.

I was sick this past week with a run of the mill yucky cold right before I had to go on business travel. Do you know what I did? Besides loading up with Zicam and Vitamin C, I said, “thank you.”  Thank you for the chance to slow down. For a body that tells me, “Whoa Nelly, you are taking a break!” And guess what? I still spent quality time with my husband and 5-year old, rested (and read an entire novel) and did laundry for the family, planned my son’s clothes for the week (promise to share photos of that obsessive process later), worked with my son on homework, packed and found myself saying, “I feel so healthy, I feel fantastic, my life is perfect.”  You know in its simplicity and abundance, it is. I was still physically uncomfortable, not sleeping well, yet saying thank you for the meds, the tissues, the caring family, the comfortable bed, the laughter, the sunshine, the amazing view of the Chicago skyline, the balcony garden and so on…

I invite you to share your gratitude list. What do you think when you wake up? When I ask Jimmie, one of my favorite volunteers, “how are you?” He always answers, “I’m good, Rebecca. I’m real good. I’m above dirt. So I’m good.”

So how are you?