The Presence of January

She is quite possibly the most exquisite creation to grace earthlings in a millennia.

Reader, be warned . . . I might be a little biased in my opinion seeing how I am the grandmother of this darling of a girl who has been epitome of my existence. Yes . . . there are moments when I know I was born so that she could have her particular entry into this human form at this particular time.

January is a total presence. She has been given permission and fully accepts her right to be exactly who she is. Her only responsibility right now is to grow, unfold, and blossom.

She wears her presence well. I watch her cycle through and reflect to the world what is going on with her at any moment. She is honest in her assessment although lately she is learning how to phrase her honesty so as to not hurt a person’s feelings. She is in love with life and wants only for life to love her back.

Every moment of her presence is about creating. She creates conversation where there is none. She fashions games to play on long car drives where the only playing pieces are our minds. She will hunt around for odds and ends and any coloring devices handy to turn a cardboard box into a cabinet.

She loves American Girl, wearing dresses, and brushing the kitty’s teeth “squeaky” clean. I am not sure how the cat feels about that.

When we are together, there is little else that I pay attention to. I let my hobbies and chores fall by the wayside. They will still be there after January goes home. It is hard for me to let her go, but I knew that was the deal the second I was told of her existence. Months and months before her birth, I became enamored and attached, and I didn’t even know who she was then.

She brings my attention to the perfect unique being that each of us are. There is nothing else to worry about, nothing else to desire, nothing else to aspire to. She has taught me that we are perfect just the way we are today.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass

Places of gratitude

In my quest for the perfect life, I often find myself trapped in motion to fix all that is wrong with me, others, and the world at large. I believe the only beings safe from my efforts are wild animals and plants. Anything growing within my household, however, is fair game for fixing . . . including the Magic cat and philodendrons.

Whatever I focus on tends to grow, including people and places that need fixing. The little litany trailing through my head is “Well, THAT is just wrong.” Just as I saw that I am powerless over everything outside of me, so I see that nearly everything occurring in the world (with the exception of those lions, tigers, and bears), is just flat out WRONG.

It is exhausting keeping up with everything that needs fixing. All it takes is one view of the headlines and I want to reabsorb myself into a cocoon somewhere and become a hermit.

So, I thought to myself (there’s a surprise, right?), and I said, “Self, if looking at being powerless and finding all the wrong stuff seems to make it multiply, why don’t you look for what is right in your world and find what you can be grateful for? Maybe that will multiply, too!”

What got me started was the gratitude journal I am keeping for my graduate class at Loyola. Each day, I have to find at least five things to be grateful for. It is much easier for me to find what I am grateful for than what I am powerless over, yet my life is an incredible mixture of both: sunshine, tennis, people who play tennis with me, running, rain, wildflowers, the French Open, friends, my home, walking, my job, my writing, responses to my writing, food, and on and on.

Let’s see what I can grow from here.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass

Unsettled presence

I am an unsettled presence. Sitting still and focusing have been particularly out of reach these past few days. Lots of life odds and ends clamor for my attention and taking care of the details of my life feels a lot like what I imagine herding cats feels like. I get one set on a specific direction, but then as soon as I focus on another, off the first one goes chasing some imaginary piece of lint dancing in the breeze.

Somebody is happy in here chasing those invented curiosities. 

Some part of me must be like the Magic cat – always looking for the next best thing to play with. It is not a new discovery for me that I want to know everything. The new discovery is that I might be inventing toys to investigate.

Today, for example, I am investigating a new way of being with the people at work. My presence wants to view my work place as more of a playground. My efforts at work and their results are a source of seriousity (<==== not a real word but fun, yes?) for me. I think it is SO important but the reality is that everything I do today will be like dry leaves on pavement tomorrow – eventually the breeze will clear them away to rot on the soil beneath the sun and rain and become fertilizer for something else to grow.

©2010 by Barbara L. Kass