mama mondays: 'the boss' takes charge

Mama Mondays

I'm not one to get excited about cleaning. Oh, I know those sorts of people exist -- the kind who take special pleasure in making their homes sparkle, whose hardwood floors could be licked if the occasion called for it. I, however, am in the camp of those who see most domestic work as drudgery. Even cooking has become more chore than pleasure to me as the mouth count of our family has multiplied; more assembly line than creative endeavor. But things like vacuuming, mopping, dusting, well, let's just say I am usually far from energized upon tackling these things.

Enter 'The Boss.' We just acquired a used version of The Boss vacuum cleaner, but let me tell you, it was love at first use. From the moment I turned on The Boss, there was a powerful connection. Yesterday, The Boss and I scouted out all sorts of sneaky items that had become "permanently" fixed to the nooks and crannies of our home -- shriveled up spaghetti noodles, popcorn kernels, beads, dust mites, pieces of used-up fast-food toys. All of these things had escaped the grasp of the lesser versions of vacuum cleaners that have found their way to us in recent years. But with each inhale of The Boss yesterday, I was feeling the freedom of it all, humming "Whistle While Your Work" while my kids looked on in concern wondering who'd kidnapped their mother and come up with such a perfect exterior disguise. For me, it was as if each bit of strain that had been resting on my shoulders from summertime buildup vanished with each swoop of the hose. Oh yeah, The Boss rocks, and my carpet is smiling.

What can I say? It's the little things in life, right?

What is the one cleaning item that causes you to whistle while you work? The one device that is The Boss to you?

soulful saturdays: sanctification through parenting

Soulful Saturdays

My summer with the Salonen zoo kids has come to an end. Please don't misunderstand me. I am so grateful that I have been able to stay home with our children during their most tender years. But I'm not quite ready to be a martyr for the cause. And yet, some days, being home with five lively children in the summertime feels a little bit like that. Much as I enjoyed the more relaxed schedule, I'm relieved it's over, and happy to hand them off to other qualified adults through part of the day. The distance is needed both ways. I'm simply not capable of providing for every need of our children. And I'm grateful for the schools that are dedicated to that cause while I continue to provide for many other needs -- physical, emotional and spiritual. With all that on my plate, I've still got my work cut out for me, but now I can take it in smaller and less intense increments. **sigh of relief** It's a much healthier existence for the most part right now, in other words.

Throughout the summer, during the most intense moments, I began pondering something that I'm just now, in the more quiet spaces, able to articulate. I have come to understand more fully that through being parents, we come closer to sanctification.

Bear with me, because some of you may well be scratching your heads about now. Say what? First, a definition of the word sanctification: "refers to the act or process of making sacred or setting apart as special. To sanctify is literally 'to set apart for special use or purpose,' figuratively 'to make holy or sacred.' " The Wikipedia definition I'm using includes the condition that, from a Catholic perspective, holiness includes suffering. "It is not that pleasure were evil in itself, but that suffering purifies one's love of God."

Perhaps now it's becoming clearer where I'm heading with this. Parenting is a journey that encompasses a lot of suffering. It might start in infanthood as we try to sit out a night of raw nerves while our toddler screams out for his no-longer-available pacifier (see my friend Marie's recent account of this on Murray's Momma, "Dreaming of Sleep" post). Or even earlier than that, as we try to console a colicky baby. Later, it might emerge in the form of temper tantrums, and after that, high drama emotional tirades that spew forth from our hormonal adolescents.

These are the occasions that cause parents to say, "Parenting is the hardest job in the world." It is not hard in terms of intellectual demand. But it is truly humbling and difficult-to-the-core in terms of emotional and spiritual demand. Anyone who says otherwise is either not a parent or has a memory deficiency.

The only thing that really got me through this summer was this idea of sanctification through parenting. I am viewing this through Catholic eyes, mind you, and the idea that suffering can be productive. But let me clarify further. God does not enjoy seeing us suffer. God is with us as we suffer. He does not cause it. He offers us grace to bear it. That is how God works, and that is why suffering exists in the world despite a loving God at the helm. God also understands, as did Jesus on the cross, that it is only through suffering that we can truly draw closer to Him. The more one suffers, the more opportunities to draw near to his or her Creator. This is fact. And it is from this that I take solace in the reality that, despite the arduous nature of parenting, whether one child or five or ten, fruit will come forth through the difficult moments if we allow ourselves to view suffering through that lens. Whether it be cleaning up another blow-out diaper, or being called to the principal's office because of an infraction by our child, all of these suffering moments can bring us closer to God, if we let them, and can transform us into holier people. Not perfect people, not the impossible, but holier than we were before.

In that way, parenting, even on the very worst days -- in fact, especially on the worst days -- is getting us one step closer to heaven. So if you're having a particularly rough day, don't give up. When you can, take a break, nurture yourself for a while, and be mindful of this fact: You're getting closer.

What are some ways you've drawn closer to God through suffering moments?

7 quick takes friday (vol. 20)

After a couple weeks off, I’m back with a flash of the week past.

---1---

"The amen of nature is always a flower." -- Oliver Wendell Holmes

I’m borrowing this quote from my friend, Maria, who shared it with our writers’ listserv earlier this week. My longtime readers know that I’m wild over flowers, and this quote in particular, with an economy of words, spoke to me so vividly. I think of the flower, emerging from the moist earth after a time of being drawn into itself, reaching upward to the sun with a proclamation of gratitude for its very existence.

--2--

Let the school year begin! It’s official -- the 2009-2010 school year is underway.

Note: I cropped out grumpy firstborn from this shot. To be fair, he’s no more a morning person than his mother and wasn’t up for the “first day obligatory photo.” So be it. It can't be easy having a mom who loves taking photos when you're so not into it.

High point thus far: More food afforded eighth-graders, according to my very hungry eighth-grade son.
Low point thus far: When my six-year-old walked toward his friends at recess (most aren’t in his class this year), he didn’t get the reception he’d expected. “I think they forgot about me over the summer,” he said. (Mom heart breaking seeing cute son sad.) Oh, those tough life lessons! But I have a feeling all will be well in a month’s time. God is just giving him a chance to meet some new friends this year.

---3---

Joining the club of ‘four eyes.’ During a family back-to-school barbecue event on Wednesday evening, our youngest was found to have stuffed his sister’s eyeglasses into his pocket. “I was looking for these!” she said as she pulled them out, furious. Now, I’m wondering if he was trying to tell us something. An eye exam today found our little guy to be far-sighted enough to merit eyeglasses. I’ve lasted nearly 41 years without glasses (knocking on wood). Not so two of my kids, so far. Stay tuned for a photo of Nick with tiny blue wire-rimmed goggles in the coming days.

---4---

The gentleman’s game. Tennis has begun. So far, one singles match won, one doubles match won. I love being a tennis mom. It’s definitely a gentleman’s sport. Virtually no yelling or rambunctious kids or parents and the athletes are very gracious toward one another. It’s very refreshing.

--5--

Rethinking femininity: One of the perks of my Twitter time is that I recently received a signed book in the mail from an author who connected with me there. Colleen Hammond’s book, Dressing with Dignity, takes an interesting and historical look at fashion, and challenges the status quo in women’s clothing that leaves nothing to the imagination. Truth be told, I see a lot of truth in the message that women and girls could stand to be more mindful of how we are portraying ourselves to others, and it doesn’t mean we have to dress in potato sacks. Far from being a repressive stance, it’s liberating to consider that men and women have complementary roles, and that though we are not equal in all things, we’re equal in dignity. As a mother in particular, it was good for me to consider fashion’s role in how a girl defines and portrays herself.

---6---

Writer-mother brunch planned for San Antonio! Well, along with attending the National Federation of Press Women conference in San Antonio next month, I’m going to visit my two Texan aunts and have brunch with a fellow blogger, who, it turns out, lived in North Dakota for a time in her earlier life. I’m stoked for all of the above! (Hint on said blogger’s identity: she’s the host of “Friday quick takes!”)

--7--

Motherhood through a monastery lens. In my “Parenting Perspectives” column in this week’s Forum newspaper, I share insights on motherhood gained during my writing residency at St. Ben’s Monastery.

Have a marvelous weekend all!

For more “quick takes,” see Conversion Diary.

first day back and all's well

And, courtesy of my friend Jill from the "first-day-back coffee cry/cheer session:"

writing wednesdays: the deception of blogging

Writing Wednesdays

“So, I’ve been wondering about something,” a friend asked the other day. “How do you discern what you put into your blog and what you leave out? I mean, do you ever feel like you’re being deceptive about what your life is really like?”

Surprisingly, perhaps, I welcomed the question. It’s something I’ve wanted to write about for a while now, and being put to the task forced me to formulate my thoughts.

One of the things I enjoy about blogging is that I can create something tidy from a situation that is far from it. It’s true -- my days are more often than not filled with chaos in some form or another, but I nearly always feel invigorated by the challenge of pulling out something beautiful or meaningful from whatever the day has brought forth. I think the fact that my life is a bit messy lends itself well to the writing life. Part of the beauty of it all is that I can pick and choose which of the pieces to include and which to leave out.

But the question remains: does this approach lead to insincerity?

I would argue that it does not, and here’s why. Anyone close to me knows just how untidy my life as a mother of five can be. They also know that I’m not inclined toward high organization in some areas – like domestic duties – but that I’m very inclined to it in other areas – like organizing my thoughts on paper. They know how unruly my kids can be at times, particularly when they're tired or out of routine or stressed, and that I don’t always have a perfect response to that unruliness. But those closest to me also know how hard I’ve worked to make it all work. They know my heart – what makes me sad, what makes me happy. And they accept me, even with all of my imperfections.

Of course, most of my readers don’t know as many of the nitty-gritty details of my real life, but I’ve always taken for granted that most probably assume I’m not Perfect Patty. Most readers know that I don’t report on every ugly little happening that occurs in the Salonen household, and, I also assume that most readers wouldn’t want to hear it anyway.

I decided early on that I wanted my blog to be uplifting to other parents, other writers, other faith-seekers. That doesn’t mean I’m not being true or honest when I don’t report on the less cheery aspects of my life. Though this blog might be an online journal of sorts, I do write with a readership in mind. And I suspect that the majority of that readership is not visiting my blog to hear about every negative tidbit that has come my way, but to receive some insight, a renewed perspective, or just something to make them smile. If, in skipping over some of the less tidy aspects of my life here, I am somehow giving the impression I have a spot-free life, then let me state my disclaimer outright: I am far from perfect, and my life is far from it as well. My intent is not to deceive but to bring whatever splashes of beauty and hope I can to others.

I have to admit, too, that when I write about the good things that have happened throughout the day, I give myself a little lift, too. I offer myself the same bit of hope that I am trying to bring others. And when I do bring up some of the more trying aspects of life, it’s almost always only if I know there’s a speck of positivity to be gained from doing so.

I love having the chance to touch others through my writing, singing and other ways I reach out. But if you’re looking for Flawless Franny, you’ve come to the wrong place. If you’re looking for Real Roxane who’s reaching for the positive amidst the mess, you’ve come to the right place.

So, thanks to my friend, who gave me the chance to think about how I would write the caveat I've always felt should be stated out loud. Peace Garden Mama is my vision, not my reality, and I love recognizing and taking time to cherish the blossoms of life, big and small, whenever they open themselves to me.

If you're a blogger, how do you discern what stays and what goes?

forum column (august 09): motherhood viewed from a monastery lens

Parenting Perspectives: Nuns provide insight to mom
Roxane B. Salonen, INFORUM
Published: 08/25/2009

The grounds of St. Benedict’s Monastery in the summertime are a visual spa to the summer-worn mother.

Gardens burst with the fruits of spring labor and flowers dance along pathways. One walkway leads to a goldfish pond, where sitting still and breathing slowly is all that’s required.

For two summers, I’ve been treated to a writing residency at this monastery for Benedictine religious sisters in St. Joseph, Minn. Along with time to write uninterrupted, I’ve enjoyed a reprieve from meal-making and sibling-squabbling.

I’ve also had a chance to observe and get to know the sisters, thereby glimpsing a calling beyond the one I’ve known.

Both years, interesting insights into motherhood have been part of the experience.

At last year’s residency, I was enjoying a conversation with one of the nuns, sharing bits of my everyday life with her, when she leaned in closely and said, “I’ve always thought the life of a mother and wife must be awfully challenging.”

And so it is, I thought, realizing that up until that point, I’d viewed her life as the more challenging one, and mine as the “normal,” saner version of the two.

Throughout that week, as I noted the high proportion of doctorate degrees among the sisters and the freedom with which they seemed to go about their lives, I began to have a curious admiration for those who’d chosen religious life. The simplicity of their world seemed enviable.

Nevertheless, by the end of my stay, I’d convinced myself that for all its challenges, life as a mother was the right one for me.

This year brought another revelation. At some point midweek, it hit me that of the nearly 300 women present, I was the only one who’d experienced physical motherhood. This fact helped me appreciate the gift of motherhood in a new way.

Yes, sacrifice is part of it. From the minute we learn about the lives we’re carrying, we mothers begin to set aside some of our desires to make room for the small beings within us. But most of us also come to realize the privilege of living for another.

I no longer feel compelled to compare one life against the next. We are all mothers in some sense. All women have the capacity within our natures to nurture. We’ve simply chosen different ways of living this out.

I’d no sooner gotten back on the interstate toward Fargo this year when I received an urgent text message from my daughter. Trouble was brewing at home and my long-distance advice was needed. So much for the reprieve. Back into action!

Motherhood is often exhausting, emotionally as well as physically. But I have to say that, upon my return, as I allowed wee arms of love to encircle me, I was renewed all over again; not by daisies and zinnias, but by my own little flowers now turning toward me, soaking me up like the sun.

Roxane B. Salonen works as a freelance writer and children’s author in Fargo, where she and husband Troy are parents of five children.

mama mondays: are you ready?

Mama Mondays

“Are you ready...for school to start?”

It’s the question of the day within parenting circles about now, a cyclical sort of inquiry that emerges like clockwork a week or so before each school year begins. The question is part rhetorical, part connector, not unlike, “So, how about the weather?” It’s a fairly safe question for us parents to ask one another, an easy way for us to transition back into our more parallel paths after meandering in our own spheres for the last months.

It’s also a bit of a loaded question, depending on your setup.

I think for the majority of those of us who work most of our hours from home, the beginning of the school year can’t come too soon. Most summers, by the time I’m to the point of flipping over the July calendar page, I’m practically hyperventilating over the thought of school starting. But other mothers I know approach the oncoming school year with a sense of great dread. Back to the grind of the school-year schedule, they think. It’s harder for me to relate to this perspective, and yet, this year, I’ve found myself stumped over the “Are you ready” question, and I think it’s because for the first time, I really can relate well to both sides.

I keep thinking about a column Erma Bombeck once wrote that began something like, “Ah, summertime and the living is easy.” The column ends with Bombeck hiding from her kids out in the garage – or some obscure place where she’s hoping they can’t find her. Summertime living might be labeled easy, but after several months of hanging with the kids all day, she’s at her wit’s end. (Sound familiar to anyone?)

But I think most of us can relate to both angles. On the one hand, there’s something to be said about leaving behind the logistics of the school year. Unless we’ve chosen to keep our schedules as harried in the summertime as the rest of the year, summertime living is, on some levels, easier to stomach. What parent doesn’t relish the cessation of all the paperwork, whether in the form of permission slips and newsletters or take-home papers and homework? It’s nice to not have to be in our vehicles for the majority of afternoons and evenings. The demand for play dates seems to let up, and in general, life comes to us at a bit more manageable pace. But there’s something to be said for the routine of the school year, too. The predictability factor brings balance to both kids and parents. Yes, the demands seem a little heightened, but the payoff comes in the form of constancy’s hum.

So, I’m still undecided on whether I’m ready. I have a few very-last-minute school supplies to gather up, and I have yet to fully organize the school uniforms times four.

I suppose therein lies the answer.

No, I’m not really ready, not completely, but come what may, school starts on Wednesday. And on that morning, the alarm clocks are going to buzz a little earlier than usual, and we’ll all spring into action with a little more zeal than normal to face the new year and all its possibilities.

The new school year is on its way, ready or not.

Question is, are you?

faith fridays: the big question

Faith Fridays

Toward the end of my last session with my spiritual director, he asked this question: "Why are you here?" I paused for a moment, wondering if he might have meant, "What are you doing here in my office?" But it took only a short time to realize that, no, he was asking the BIG question: why are you here? I also knew that, in his capacity as SD, he was asking from a spiritual perspective. He was wasting no time, this being only our second meeting. We were skipping past the small things and heading right to the big stuff.

"Well," I said, "I think there are two main reasons. One, to bring my children into the world and see them through it as well as guide them into the next." I paused again. "And the other reason has something to do with my desire to inspire people, to offer something valuable to them, to give them hope."

Seemingly satisfied with my answers, he suggested that the second of those reasons for my existence was the BIGGEST of the big. Not to discount my role of mother in any way. His point was that my existence as child of God comes first, and that of a mother comes second. The two, of course, need to be in balance as well as possible, and there are times one will appear more prominent than the other. There will be years when the mothering aspect extolls the most energy. But at bottom, I began as and will always be a child of God first, and there is a wider purpose for my being here aside from motherhood.

In light of being in the middle of some fairly intense mothering years, it was interesting for me to ponder this, to think "big picture" instead of all of the detaily matters that seem to consume the bulk of my hours. In fact, I haven't really quit thinking about it. How many of us parents, while in the midst of self-sacrifice, really understand that our role as God's children supercedes all else? That our role as parents, while one of our primary roles, is not the biggest of the big?

I found the thought refreshing, profound and one to keep pondering.

So then, why are you here?

writing wednesdays: one person, one story

Writing Wednesdays

For today's writing post, I'm borrowing words from several exchanges I've had this week with writer/author friends.

The first one came while I was at St. Ben's. My friend L and I were discussing the writing process, and she said that at a conference she attended recently, one of the presenters shared that an editor once told him every author has one story to tell, and he/she tells it over and over again in every book he/she writes. L added that children's writer E.B. White (Charlotte's Web) "once wrote that all he ever wanted to say in his books is how much he loves this world."

Later that same day, during an exchange on a writers' listserv, J shared an excerpt by Elizabeth Gilbert that struck her while reading a book on memoir-writing. Gilbert had advised writers "pick one, single person in the world and tell your story directly to them." She said that by not doing this, your story will not have a direct personal voice and "wanders and fluctuates from page to page, speaking into a meaningless vacuum." Each book, story or article you're writing should be directed at one person, though that person can be different with each work. Choose the person who would be most interested in the topic, she said, "and never let them out of your sight."

"Keep that person in the room with you (mentally, that is) the whole time you're writing -- even speak aloud to that person, asking, 'Are you following me here? Is this getting boring? Am I explaining too much? Would you like to hear a funnier story now?'...In the end, what happens when you write like this is that perfect strangers will read your work later, and come up to you and say, 'I felt like you were talking directly to me."

The collision of these two thought-provoking exchanges happened within a 24-hour period, making me feel it was a less-than-coincidental convergence. In essence, we've got the narrowing down of the writing process to one: one person, one story.

Makes it seem simple, doesn't it? Perhaps it can help simplify things a bit. Maybe you've already been doing this but just hadn't given it much thought.

I've been thinking about the "theory of one" a lot this week, and I think I've narrowed down my "one story." It has something to do with hope and beauty borne of suffering. I hate to throw the suffering aspect into it, but I think that would be truer than to just say "hope and beauty." Oftentimes, it's only through suffering that we can truly see the world in all its splendor, after all.

Do you know who and what your one person and one story are?

mama mondays: real life resumes

Mama Mondays

Here's how the return from my writing residency went down. No sooner had I merged onto the interstate from St. Joseph, the cell phone rang. The two kids back in Fargo needed assistance, which my daughter deemed urgent. The stress level began to slowly rise until it reached normal operating level. Goodbye sunflowers. Goodbye quiet walks. Goodbye days of not having to be mindful of food prep. When I reached the lake town where the other three kids had been dwelling, I was greeted with open arms that would not let go. That was very nice indeed. The next day, we all converged briefly for a 41st birthday celebration for DH Troy. The best part: I didn't host! His brother did, and what a feast we had. It was a crab and shrimp boil by the lake. While we waited for the boil to bubble, our nephew caught a salamander and happily shared it with all the party-goers. After DQ cake, it was time to depart again. DH headed east on business, I headed west with a van full of chicklets, and bam! Real life has quickly come back to order!

Atten-tion!

Oh, but I am still so grateful for all of it, despite the harriedness of this life. I am grateful for the chance to be still for just a while. And I am grateful for the liveliness that awaited.

st. ben's final: turning toward home

August 15, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

What I am turning from:

What I am turning toward:

God is good. Life is beautiful. Thanks again to those who have come along.

For those who have missed the journey, it's all here:

Day 1 it's good to be back

Day 2 letter to my daughter

Day 3 coming up for light and air

Day 4 bee-a-utiful

Day 5 what i've learned so far

Day 6 amusement from inside the sauna

Day 7 restless evening

I'll "see" y'all back in Fargo!

st. ben's day 7: restless evening

August 14, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

Well, I thought I was done with my floral bouquet, but I deceived both myself and you. I found a few I'd forgotten about, and now have taken some more. A few will appear later, after I'm long gone from here. For now, though, this one spoke to me today. Its downcast face, even while lit from above, resonates with how I have been feeling in the last 12 hours or so. I had a wonderful meal with Mary last night, but for some reason, I could not sleep. I was agonizingly restless. Mind you, it could have been the strong coffee we had at the restaurant, but I think there's more to it than that. The reason I think this is because the exact thing happened to me at this juncture in my journey last year. Curious, no?

I have several theories as to why, and I think it's a combination of all of them. Each year of retreat, I have come with a project that has been waiting for the appropriate space to be tackled. I work intensely on it, hardly coming up for air except when necessary, for several days. Then finally, I allow myself to breath deeply. I have a sense of accomplishment. I fully absorb and take time to appreciate all the good that has come from the break.

And then, sometime around midnight of the second to last evening, a feeling of dread, or restlessness, or letdown -- a combination of all these -- takes hold. Part of it is the turning toward home and all that awaits me there. Though I miss my family and look forward to the reunion, it's an overwhelming thought to go from this to that in an hour's time. I think it has to do with the project, too, the breadth of it and what it has taken from me to write it. I am feeling that, too.

Nevertheless, I'm accepting this as part of the process. We cannot live on a high forever. The utopia is a mirage. Real life is a blending of work and play, of sorrow and joy. I don't wish to deny reality. Without the more somber times, the lightness would not be as clearly felt, either. I am trying to welcome all of it, knowing that no matter what it might seem, it is all part of the gift of life.

And I think of what Mary and I discussed last night -- how change comes at us in small steps, making it manageable. Today will be the day for tying up loose ends. Taking time to do laundry and tidy up the apartment will be part of the process of the transition back into home life. Joining in several more communal events -- including a blessing of the fruits of the gardens and earth -- will all contribute to the sending forth that will allow me a peaceful exit.

This morning at chapel, I was overtaken by the contrasts of Sacred Heart Chapel. Again, it's the darkless and lightness of life colliding, speaking to me in a profound way. I am drawn to these contrasts. I find them beautiful. My ultimate goal, however, is to reach for light.

This probably being my last post from here, I wanted to thank you all for coming along with me to St. Ben's. I've enjoyed the wonderful exchanges, and sharing my journey. I hope it's been mostly uplifting to you!

Where and how are you finding light today?

st. ben's day 6: amusement from inside the sauna

August 13, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

Wowza! Summer has arrived in our region this week, at long last, and it's a sauna out there. Thankfully, we discovered the reason my air-conditioning hadn't been working a few days back. It was a case of operator ineptness. Oh yeah, just as I assumed might be the problem, I'd turned a dial wrong and messed it all up. But it's been going now for 24 hours and all is well...at least on the inside.

I am at an exhilarating point in my week, though, so temperature is not an obstacle. I feel like dancing! Instead, I'm going to sneak away to the mall. Though I'm not much of a shopper, the chance to shop child-free is very appealing just now, and there are a few things I actually need. So off I'll go soon. Dinnertime, I'll meet up with my friend, Mary, for Italian -- the same place we went to last year. Though I've absolutely loved the meals here, I know that our time at Ciatti's will be a lovely treat. The company guarantees it.

Before I present the final in the bouquet of flowers to you, then lilt away for the afternoon, I wanted to share some thoughts I've had in recent days about the presence of the muse.

It never fails to amaze me how the muse works. The muse, of course, is not really another entity at all, but that part of us that, if we are astute enough to know how to free it, will give us all that we need in our creative endeavors. Of course, freeing the muse can be a complex operation. There are many doors to walk through, and oftentimes, we become distracted along the way. The halls toward our muse are often cluttered with other things. Some of these things are a priority. We simply cannot walk by without taking time to straighten them out. Other times, less necessary obstacles present themselves, and we allow ourselves to get hung up on them. Our muse fades into the background, out of reach. Mostly, though, we are simply trying to live our lives the best we know how, and the hall toward our muse seems to lengthen even as we near it, like in a nightmare when we are trying to reach something but we cannot quite get there.

This is why a retreat such as the one I've been blessed to be on is so valuable. In a place like this, the muse is not in some far-off place. We open the door to a quiet hall and find the muse sitting at the ready. And what a reunion! How we've missed one another. And how easy it seems, in an environment like this, to discover one another again. All the conditions are right -- everything has been set up perfectly. The doors to our muse have been flung wide open and all we have to do is walk in and join forces.

The trick about the muse, however, is that, by its nature, it is a fleeting character. That is how it was designed to be. And so we must somehow reconcile with the fact that our relationship will wax and wane. Sometimes, the time will be right for a lengthy visit. Other times, we'll have to be satisfied with quick conversations, much like the relationships we have with our faraway friends we see only every once in a while.

But when it is, at last, time to dance with the muse once again, to leap through words and thoughts and dreams together, that is a time to celebrate, to immerse ourselves in the a-musing synchronicity of it all, and know that while it will not always be this easy to visit our fair friend, our muse has always been, and always will be, here for us when the time is right.

Do you sense your muse? How would you describe this muse, and when have you felt your muse most vibrantly? What things do you do to lay the foundation for productive visits with your muse?

st. ben's day 5: what I've learned so far

August 12, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

It's hump day! Though Wednesday is hump day for the rest of the world, it's hump day for me at St. Ben's as well. My week here runs Saturday to Saturday, though the first and last days really don't count, since they're halves only. In other words, I'm in the dead-center middle of my stay. Since middle places tend to be good for reflection, that's what I'm going to do today in sharing...

The Top Ten Things I've Learned while on writing retreat:

10. Nocturnal Necessity. If given non-pressured choice in whether to rise and fall early or late, late wins out. (I'm my father's daughter in this.) And who said the early bird always gets the worm? There seem to be plenty of worms around here for everyone, even for late-risers.

9. Favorite Fuel. With a little chocolate, an ample supply of Coke Zero and some salty snacks, amazing strides can be made. As it turns out, chocolate is a staple, after all.

8. Prolific Potential. Having experienced this environment two years in a row now, I'm convinced that if I weren't a mother of five children, I'd be a prolific writer. That said, I don't wish to will away my current life or my children, so I'll take what I can get when it's offered. I'm convinced more than ever, though, that I'm not going to be cured of the writing bug anytime soon. Though it doesn't define me in whole, it's an essential part of who I am.

7. Soulful Sounds. Take a group of religious sisters, put them in a chapel with great acoustics, listen them to release their gift of music, and your soul will be satisfactorily saturated the rest of the day.

6. Grub Grinch. I used to adore meal preparation and cooking, but doing so for a family of seven has taken some of the fun out of it for me. In not having to plan meals for several days now, I've come to realize I've turned into a bit of a grub Grinch in everyday life. Not in the eating of it (roast beast is always a treat), but in all those steps that come before and after it.

5. Terrificly Tidy. For years, because I've not been able to keep up with the housekeeping standards of some, I've been led to believe this may be an inherent character flaw. Not so, I've learned here. Given a manageable environment, I'm quite adept at keeping my surroundings sparkling. And no, I'm not willing to get rid of the kids or change anything else in my life drastically enough to maintain these high standards right now. The "shoveling in a snowstorm theory" still applies at home.

4. Prayer Procrastinator. I thought that, given this prayerful environment, I'd be sending out hourly petitions. Instead, I've discovered that even when the conditions are right, there's a life to be lived, and my prayer time still comes mainly in the in-between places, like walking to meals, or in the shower, or just as I rise or lay my head on the pillow.

3. Childcare Charm. Some might question a mother's dedication to her family as she leaves her children for a week. I can testify that it's absolutely possible to have the best of both worlds in this regard. The key is to make sure they're all in good hands. When the safety and happiness of the children is assured, it's not only possible but desirable to take a break if it's offered. The kids will not feel abandoned. They'll think that, perhaps, you do have a life beyond them after all, and it's kind of a neat thing. It might even help them search for a balanced life when they become parents someday.

2. Work to Play. It's true that if you work hard to complete the essential tasks, the playing that follows is doubly refreshing. And you have to make time to play, even when you're on a "working retreat." All work and no play makes Roxi a dull girl. I've been happy to have a few off-campus dinners and a movie planned this week, along with all the wonderful time spent on campus. (By the way, Julie & Julia is an excellent movie!)

1. Essential Beauty. Though some say aesthetics are optional, those who seek the creative life know otherwise. Wherever I go, I find life and inspiration from nature and the beauty that's been cultivated around me. It is absolutely essential to any life lived in abundance, including spiritual abundance. Beauty is not optional, it's essential. And I thank the Sisters here for reminding me of that, and for taking the time to cultivate it in the many ways that they do.

In what ways do you cultivate beauty in your life, or seek it out in others?

st. ben's day 4: bee-a-utiful

August 11, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

In case I don't make it back here until late tonight, I thought I'd at least post this freshly-snapped photo. There are others where this came from -- all flower shots. If you've been visiting Peace Garden Mama a while, you know how much I adore flowers, not to mention SUNflowers. The Sisters are very tender toward their gardens and I can't help but smile at the sparkle they add to life here and everywhere. So, here's one to cheer you for now, with promises of more to come!

st. ben's day 3: coming up for air and light

August 10, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery (11:30 p.m.)

I just lit this candle. It's a signal to me that the time has come, at this late hour, to come up for air and light! After posting here, I'm going to spend a wee bit of time in prayer, and then maybe even read a bit before bed, if I can. It is so peaceful here at nighttime, and all times, really. I don't miss the harried bedtime routine at all, but of course, I miss the kids and hubby and hope they've all had a great day. I received an email from brown-eyed girl; it was so nice. Everyone seems to be doing well, so that makes my time here even more pleasant.

What a productive day it's been. My only breaks have been midday prayer and meals. That's it. I've hardly even taken out time for snacks or drinks. My mission was to read my manuscript straight through, and edit, so that I could have that long-view look that more editing, shaping and an additional chapter will require. And I've accomplished that. (Deep breath)

There's a reason for the push. One, my days are so limited here, and my motivation high. I want to use every hour of this time wisely. I also want to work hard enough to be able to justify a little playing. My friend, C, a scholar whose visit last year also collided with mine, wants to take in a movie tomorrow night, and I'm all for it. Since the dining hall is closed Tuesday nights anyway, that seemed like a perfect time to skip out for dinner and the cinema. I can't wait! So, in order to allow myself to actually enjoy that treat, I knew I had to stick to my guns today.

One of the best things about being here is not having to think about mealtime. When I'm ready for it, it's there. I know this is a luxury that will be short-lived, so I am cherishing every bit of it. At lunch today, we had a most delicious sausage and sauerkraut soup. Seriously, it was phenomenal. Dinner was roasted chicken, potatotes, and a divine chocolate cookie with chocolate chips.

So, I've been properly fed today, and met many goals, but sneaking out for exercise has not happened, short of the walking to and from the chapel and dining hall. I've learned in my life that I can only deal with one obsession at a time, and right now, writing is it, taking precedence over reading, even, and exercise for now. But it's a small price to pay for achieving a goal.

My insights are low today. I've been too immersed in the work at hand. But know that this place is being very good to me, and I hope that my rants here will inspire you to seek out the same. It is worth finding time for yourself amidst the cluttered din of everyday life.

Peace to you in your tomorrow!

P.S. If any of you are questioning whether my kids are surviving without me, here's a glimpse of how they're faring. Yes, Grandma has done it again with the camera. Isn't she amazing? Those smiles made me light right up, with or without a candle nearby.

st. ben's day 2: letter to my daughter

August 9, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

Hi Sweetie!

Thanks so much for the email today. It was nice to have a little break from my work. I want to answer your questions, so here goes.

You asked what I liked the most about being here last year, and what, so far, is the thing I like most about this year. You asked what we eat, and if it's good, and whether my room is the same as last year, or nice, or not as nice. You also wanted to know about prayer time -- how long it is and what we do exactly. And you wanted to know about my work -- what it feels like to have to actually cut words from my manuscript, and whether it's hard.

Such great questions! Thanks for asking. I hope someday I can share this place with you. You were so sweet in your letter to say that you are glad I'm having this time away. That warmed my heart that you would be able to consider how valuable this is to me, even though it means our family is separated for a while.

It's an interesting place in many ways. One of the things I noticed first last year is that most everyone walks around here, and a lot of the Sisters don't even know how to drive -- they've simply never needed to. Most ride bicycles like the one at the top of the page.

Some of the Sisters have been here since they were 18, and they plan to die here, too. But tonight, while talking to one of them, I found out that they no longer accept women so young. They want women who come here to have lived a little first so they'll know they're making the right choice.

Tonight at dinner, I learned that having five children is nothing. One of the Sisters with whom I talked came from a family of 17 children; another, 15. The other two each had five kids in their families growing up. Another had 10 in her family, and all but two either became religious sisters or priests. Several of her sisters are Sisters who are here as well. Imagine living near your sister for the rest of your life! (Ha!)

One of the things I like best is that I don't have to worry about buying groceries and cooking for seven people three or so times a day. It is so nice to wake up and take my time, then stroll to noon prayer before lunch, and again, to evening prayer before or after dinner. I can't quite make it up for morning prayer, but the Sisters here are all very understanding of my Night Owl tendencies. They know I am primarily here to work, but I have to admit that breaking up the day with the rhythm of prayer and food seems a very healthy schedule. I might be tempted, otherwise, to work and never leave my apartment. This gives me an excuse to reach out beyond myself and the project at hand.

Specifically, we had eggs and bacon for breakfast, and for dinner, turkey and potatoes, with all kinds of side offerings for every meal. As for the prayer times, other than Sunday Mass, the three daily prayers take place in a side chapel and are primarily sung. It's like the psalms we sing at Mass, only all of it is sung, with the help of several cantors. Prayers are read as well, but the rest is all singing. It's really a nice way to pray and reflect.

Well, I think that's about enough for now. Oh, I am in the same apartment as last year and it's perfect for me. I couldn't be more pleased. I had fun last night setting up things similarly to how I had everything last year. I feel so at peace here, and even though I do miss all of you, I'm enjoying my time away, and know I'll have more to give to you, now, upon my return. And of course, there is going to be lots to do then, so I hope you're enjoying your time off as well.

Much love to you,

Always,

Mom

P.S. I promise to answer your question about the editing process in another message later.

st. ben's day 1: it's good to be back!

August 8, 2009 - St. Benedict's Monastery

I'm here, and it is absolutely wonderful. I feel a bit like a sophomore coming back to campus after being away for the summer, not nearly as green as the year before, feeling much more assured and excited about what's to come.

It was a busy, busy day back in Fargo as I zoomed from one appointment to the next, finishing final packing, then zipping out the door with the kids in the afternoon. They slept most of the 120-mile trip to their grandparents' home, and seemed excited to be there upon our arrival. After a short visit and snack, I was off, riding into the lush Minnesota countryside. It's been raining a lot here and it is beautiful country anyway, but even more so with the tickle of fresh rain. The first part of the trip was rainless, but then, just as a few sprinkles started coming onto the windshield, the song, Healing Rain, came on the radio. So perfectly timed it was that I could not count it as insignificant or coincidence.

An hour after I left the in-laws' lake town, I was pulling up to the hall where I will make my home for the next week. And indeed, it feels very much like home. I was greeted by the current heads of Studium, Sisters A and T, along with fellow scholar and friend, C, who has been coming here annually for quite a few years now from her home in Hawai'i (I learned last summer the correct pronunciation). All three had been working hard the previous hours to prepare my apartment -- washing clothes, replenishing the fridge, and putting together a welcome table:

You'll note the Macadamia nut treats from C. I received them last year as well, and how fortunate I am to be the recipient of such a fine snack once again. Sister T brought in some fresh flowers and dill from her garden (did she know how much I love flowers?). A fruit basket with coffee (also from C) and a book written by Sister Thomas Cary, OSB, The Light Within, a book on sacred art, and postcards provided the finishing touches.

Is it any wonder I feel absolutely elated? It's enough to have been welcomed back, but to receive this kind of greeting seems as close to heaven as I can imagine. I brought along my photo calendar from home, which sports a photo of my family, lest I forget my other vocation (not that I would), and I've now set up shop at the same writing desk as last year. My computer connected to the Internet instantly, as if I'd never even left. I am ready to roll and look forward to sharing more in the coming days.

Oh, I do need to fess up and admit I brought some snacks of my own:

Keep in mind this is to last a week, and the M&Ms will be shared with guests. (Sounds like some kind of guilty justification, doesn't it?) To offset this late-night snacking, I do plan to join C in doing a little exercising. But the real reason I wanted to share this, thereby risking judgment from the calorie-counting corner, is that my 9-year-old was with me at the grocery store last night, and while I hemmed and hawed over Twix versus 100 Grand bars, she said, "Wow, Mom, St. Ben's really sounds fun. Can I come too?"

I can't end without mentioning that today is the birthday of my father, my very first writing coach. I know that without his influence, I would not be sitting here today, feeling giddy and eager to begin what I've set out to accomplish. So, dear Dad, thank you for what you gave to me all those years ago through writing stories and poems to Camille and me and helping us appreciate the power and beauty of the written word. I love you!

7 quick takes friday (vol. 19)

It's that time again for the Friday flash!

--1--

BREASTFEEDING DOLL CONTROVERSY: There's been some interesting talk in the blog and news world related to a new doll that has come on the market. Instead of coming equipped with bottles, it arrives ready to breastfeed. Apparently, there is an outcry in some circles that this will prompt girls to desire a faster maturation, among other issues. I wrote a post about the breastfeeding doll yesterday, and the responses were interesting. Even among those who consider themselves breastfeeding advocates, none seemed really excited about this doll. One feels it's just too mechanical, for example, and that children will pretend nurse on their own, without the help of a doll. I'm still a bit divided on it myself, but think it's a good issue to raise. To me, the larger issue is our society's all-too-common objectification of a woman's body, and perhaps that lies at the root of my confliction. Maybe we don't need to raise this issue and others connected to it through our children's playrooms. That said, let me say that I think the sweetest sight in the world is when children mimic their mommies who nurse their younger siblings through "nursing" their own "babies." Nothing at all wrong with that, methinks.

Here's the original article about the breastfeeding doll that prompted me to write about this from foxnews.com, and here's a great post written by my blogging pal, Missy, over at Marketing Mama that addresses this and other nursing news, including the fact that it's World Breastfeed Week 2009. Oh, and there's a video on there that demonstrates how the nursing doll works.

[P.S. A reader asked to see the posts the included earlier discussions. See comments in Peace Garden Mama I and Peace Garden Mama II from yesterday to read more. The rest of the comments were on Facebook so less easily shared here, but all comments have been pro-breastfeeding and negative or uncertain toward the doll.]

--2--

HOW DOES YOUR SUMMER GROW? Well, along with the weeds and thistles that have cropped up in the garden over the summer (I am not yet at a place in my life of feeling free enough to do tons of garden maintenance), there are a few flowers left out back. Not a lot, but a few little flashes that hint at a springtime past. All seasons for a reason, right?

--3--

MY LATEST READ: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. This book has been recommended by several people over the years. I just cracked the cover and don't know how much time I'll have to read it in the next week, but I always like have a good book nearby...just in case. I eagerly anticipate what's inside. Apparently, there's a movie out now based on the book. Anyone out there seen it?

--4--

ST. BEN'S DRAWING NEAR: Please join me during my week at St. Ben's through visiting Peace Garden Mama. I'll be blogging daily about my writing retreat and would be happy to have you stop by August 9-15 to share a bit of the journey and read any insights that might have come to me during my time of reflection, writing and singing/praying with the nuns.

--5--

HUBBY'S NEW JOB: It wasn't really a secret, but I didn't want to share details of my husband's new job until he'd been at it a while. He's now in week two of it and really enjoying his new surroundings. His job as service coordinator for Laney's, a plumbing and heating operation (the best in town, of course) is less of a stretch than it might seem. Though he's dedicated much of his life to his music, Troy grew up with a father who started a plumbing/heating business, and a brother who now heads up that same company. So, he's been in the trenches many times before, and even though he's not working out in the field in this new position, he's very connected to the business through his family. We're looking forward to what's ahead, and to his new schedule, once Red Star Guitar's lease is up end of August.

--6--

THE LEMONADE AWARD: Yesterday, I received a note that I'd been bestowed with the Lemonade Award by my friend Valerie. Here's what she said about Peace Garden Mama on her blog:

Peace Garden Mama is a blog title that could be self-explanatory, but I’ll explain that Peace Garden refers to North Dakota. And obviously, it’s a blog dedicated to motherhood/family life. Roxane has a litter of five.* Not having any puppies of my own, Peace Garden Mama seems an incongruous choice, but her capable writing and her willingness to de-mythify motherhood without ever once minimizing it makes this blog quite readable.

Thanks Val! To read the other four blogs chosen for the award by Val, visit her blog, String of Lights. The award is to be paid forward, so I'll be choosing five other bloggers in the near future to be highlighted.

--7--

TENNIS MEETING: Last night, while I was out celebrating an upcoming wedding with some friends and the bride-to-be, my husband was doing his fatherly duty of taking in a meeting on fall sports, including tennis. I guess this is the beginning of the end of the summer. Soon, it will be tennis matches, soccer fields and gobs of paperwork (and earlier bedtimes...ahem!). In fact, our Mississippi cousin, Michael, has already begun his school year!

In other words, enjoy whatever is left of your summer!

For more "quick takes," visit Jennifer at Conversion Diary.