The Girl of the Meadow and the Lady of the Freshly Cut Grass

"Every tree and plant in the meadow seemed to be dancing, those which average eyes would see as fixed and still." - Jalal ad-Din Rumi

"A lawn is nature under totalitarian rule". - Michael Pollan

I push mow my grass.  For several reasons.  One reason is that heretofore I have been too cheap to buy a riding mower.  To tell you the truth I have never even ridden a riding mower, so there is probably also a bit of intimidation there.  Mostly, though, decided that I am healthy enough to push mow it, I get exercise when I do, and when I bought it (right after I purchased my house), it seemed the best decision for my budget.  But I had no clue my yard was as large as it is until I mowed it for the first time.  It seems never ending.  Mowing is a fairly big project...it takes over two hours.  Time that is precious to me.  Also, I am allergic to almost everything outdoors....including grass.  Often after mowing I end up with headaches or wheezing or just generally feeling bad.  I don't usually hate mowing, but it gets to be a burden.  One that never seems to end.

I live in a neighborhood full of beautiful lawns.  Most of my neighbors really care about how their yard looks, and invest much time and money to see that it is looking its best.  I have a feeling I am their nightmare.  I don't feel the same passion.  Often the only reason my yard gets mowed is that I don't want to be a bad neighbor.  Grass that gets a bit high doesn't bother me nearly as much as I suspect it bothers them.

My lawn is also full of what others would call weeds.  That doesn't bother me, either.  The neighbors, who try to keep their grass weed free, probably scowl at the idea of the seeds and spores my plants send through the neighborhood.  The weeds seem much sturdier than my grass, and stay greener longer.  They also create beautiful flowers all over my lawn...which make me hurt a bit every time I mow them down.  Yesterday I actually felt a bit of pain as I mowed over a dandelion, whose head was perfect for making a wish before I blew it away.  Does the same concept work when it is mowed down?  Will the wish come true?  I don't think so....I believe the wishes only come true if the fluff dances in the breeze.

Was talking to a guy last year that is an admitted yard snob.  He can poetically describe the perfect way to prune the branches of a tree.  Really, he could talk about it for hours...if the person he is talking to has a longer attention span and a bit more interest than me!  He meticulously prunes everything in his yard, and it totally delights and satisfies him.  It was the time to mow my lawn for the first time of the year and while I knew to stay in the good graces of the neighbors I had to do it, I hated the idea of losing all of the beautiful flowers that were sprinkled around.  I tried to describe it all to my friend.  He finally hesitated a bit and said "Your neighbors think you have a lawn, but in your eyes you have a meadow."

He totally captured the truth of it all....the internal struggle I feel.  While I do love the way my yard looks  with freshly cut grass (especially at this time of year when my mulch has been refreshed, my branches pruned and my azaleas and my tulips are in full bloom), I most treasure the meadow.  The wildness of the paintbox of nature, splashed around here and hither.  The mature part of me knows that I must mow on a regular basis, but the girl inside would rather take off my shoes, walk in the too tall grass, and pick flowers.  While others may not see the beauty in its meadow state, to me that is when there is the most beauty to be seen.

Some of us are people of  the freshly cut grass....respectable and doing what we should.  Pristine among the unmowed lawns and taunting them a bit in our perfection.  Crisp in our knowledge that we are right and proper...well, because that mental picture of the "perfect lawn" that is in our head is what everyone has told us should be right and proper.

Others are the people of the meadow, living life a bit less perfectly, a bit more at random.  Covered with what we think are flowers, but what others see as weeds.  Growing with abandon, and often beauty, though sometimes the place that snakes and the rats hide.

Then at times we are simply the uncut grass, a bit too full of ourselves, and getting on the nerves of the neighbors (who know it is a personal attack against them and their property values.)  Not fitting in with the other lawns, but not caring. Sometimes caring, but living as the grass of someone who has much going on in their life that takes priority over their mowing the grass.  Or owned by someone who has never been told what a "proper" lawn should be and how an "improper" lawn will impact the neighborhood.  So at times annoying by nature, and at others misunderstood.

I don't think I paid much attention to lawns before I became a homeowner.  Now they seem to consume a lot of my thoughts during the spring and summer months and frankly I would prefer those thoughts be out of my head.  I'm actually the person that doesn't mind a drought... doesn't mind if the grass dies.  It gives me less to be concerned with.  I seem to find out more every year about the expectations that some seem to have as to what constitutes an acceptable lawn.  I still find it all a bit overwhelming.

The day may come when I buy a riding mower.  It will allow me to mow over the meadow a bit quicker.  In fact, it may put me up a bit higher from it where I don't even notice what is going on below me. But if I do buy one, I hope I keep the push mower and sometimes keep it in use.  I hope sometimes I continue to refuse to mow an area because I can't stand the idea of mowing down the beautiful flowers.  While as a responsible adult I often have to be the lady of freshly cut grass, underneath it all will always be the spirit of the girl of the meadow.  With apologies to the neighbors!

Making the Pieces of the Puzzle Fit

This month is National Autism Awareness Month.   This I know because my friend Jeanne, who has a son with autism, has done a really good job promoting it.  Jeanne's like that....she often uses her life to help people and with a son that has autism, she has an incredible passion to help people understand it.  From the first time I met her, she talked openly about it.  She views it in a way that is very balanced....both the joys he brings to her life, and the difficulty it is sometimes to be his parent.  That difficulty is not usually because of him...or not much more than the tremendous difficulty it is to parent any child.  Like most good parents she sees her child's positives and negatives, parents him keeping these things in mind, and loves him for the total picture.  But it's the other people who sometimes are, well, jerks.  People who should know better.  Not just other kids.  Adults.  Teachers, even.  Strangers.  They make comments.  They ignore.  They don't see the wonderful person that is there, but instead just see someone different. And they don't appreciate different.  They see disability instead of possibility.

Sometimes I get a bit tired of cutesy inspirational sayings on Facebook.  Most of you probably already knew that.  Yes, I am an admitted eyeroller (my face hasn't frozen like that yet, Mom!) and there are days when the 15 inspirational quotes you have put up there drive me crazy.  For those that sometimes read my blog, you know I use quotes a lot.  I love quotes.  I love to be inspired.  But after a while too many in a row start to make me a bit crazy.  The inspiration starts to get a bit old.  OK, maybe it is more me getting jaded.  I only can act on so much inspiration at one time.  And yes....some of you are just hokey!!!!

But I have loved the quotes that Jeanne has posted this month.  She hasn't been excessive....she has only posted a few.  But the ones she has posted have been really great. In doing it, she has explained, she has proclaimed and she has educated.  Not in a way that is over-emotional, but one that really does some good.  It makes us all think and consider and celebrate.  So in case you missed them, I am going to share them with you.


I am fortunate to know several people with autism, at all levels of the spectrum.  The joy they have brought to my life is incredible.  You may know them too, and you may not have identified exactly what makes them different.  Sometimes it is difficult to see.  Sometimes it is difficult to diagnose.  But diagnosis is a good thing.  It helps you understand them a bit better.  It helps them understand themselves a bit better.  And it reminds us of the richness that people with autism bring to the world.  One of the greatest skills to gain to cope in life is to understand ourselves a bit better.  To know that our brain functions a bit different than others.....it's good to know.  And truthfully....don't all of our brains function a bit differently anyway?  (Maybe it's just mine!)

So anyway, this month learn something new about autism.  Autism Society Homepage  OK....I am not going to trust you to do that on your own.  I know how some of you won't hit a link!  Let me share some things straight from the autism website. 

"Know the Signs: Early Identification Can Change Lives

Autism is treatable. Children do not "outgrow" autism, but studies show that early diagnosis and intervention lead to significantly improved outcomes. 

Here are some signs to look for in the children in your life:

• Lack of or delay in spoken language
• Repetitive use of language and/or motor mannerisms (e.g., hand-flapping, twirling objects)
• Little or no eye contact
• Lack of interest in peer relationships
• Lack of spontaneous or make-believe play
• Persistent fixation on parts of objects" 

 
And now a bit about the higher functioning end of the autism spectrum, Asperger's. 

"Children with autism are frequently seen as aloof and uninterested in others. This is not the case with Asperger's Disorder. Individuals with Asperger's Disorder usually want to fit in and have interaction with others; they simply don't know how to do it. They may be socially awkward, not understanding of conventional social rules, or show a lack of empathy. They may have limited eye contact, seem to be unengaged in a conversation, and not understand the use of gestures.
Interests in a particular subject may border on the obsessive. Children with Asperger's Disorder frequently like to collect categories of things, such as rocks or bottle caps. They may be proficient in knowing categories of information, such as baseball statistics or Latin names of flowers. While they may have good rote memory skills, they have difficulty with abstract concepts.
One of the major differences between Asperger's Disorder and autism is that, by definition, there is no speech delay in Asperger's. In fact, children with Asperger's Disorder frequently have good language skills; they simply use language in different ways. Speech patterns may be unusual, lack inflection or have a rhythmic nature, or it may be formal, but too loud or high pitched. Children with Asperger's Disorder may not understand the subtleties of language, such as irony and humor, or they may not understand the give-and-take nature of a conversation."

I want kids with autism to be diagnosed sooner.  I want them to grow up understanding a bit of what is going on with their bodies.  I want parents and medical professionals and teachers to get them early intervention so that they can get treatment that will help them avoid some of the struggles other kids have gone through. I want parents to get help and support and understanding.  I want the kids to get support too....I don't want them growing up thinking they are weird and that something is wrong with them.  I want them to know that they are special.  (And OK...probably weird, too.  Aren't kids supposed to be?)  I want schools equipped with people who know how to help these kids develop skills that just may not come naturally to them.

We're all created different.  There is really no normal.  And if there was, who wants to be that way?  We have a lovely, vibrant colorful world filled with all kinds of people whose brains and bodies function in all different kinds of ways.  Autistic kids bring a richness to our world.  They are beautiful and funny and creative and smart and loving and imperfectly perfect, just like the rest of us.  So don't turn your head.  Don't treat it as something shameful.  Get in there and get to know about it....get to know the people behind the label.  Look in the mirror and see how like you they are.  And smile.  And celebrate.  Because them, you, me....we're all fearfully and wonderfully made and created in the very image of God.  Important pieces of the puzzle, each of us.  And that is good. 

The Finish Line

"We can't accommodate terrorism. When someone uses the slaughter of innocent people to advance a so-called political cause, at that point the political cause becomes immoral and unjust and they should be eliminated from any serious discussion, any serious debate." - Rudolph Giuliani, CNN interview, Sep. 11, 2002

 “Peace is not the product of a victory or a command. It has no finishing line, no final deadline, no fixed definition of achievement. Peace is a never-ending process, the work of many decisions.”  - Oscar Hammerstein II

"Fighting terrorism is like being a goalkeeper. You can make a hundred brilliant saves but the only shot that people remember is the one that gets past you." -  Paul Wilkinson, London Daily Telegraph, Sep. 1, 1992

 

Like most people, I was horrified when I heard about the explosions at the Boston marathon this afternoon.  Having just run my first 10k a little over a week ago, the feeling of crossing that finish line is fresh in my mind.  It was fun and exhilarating and happy.  

And that was not the Boston marathon finish line....the finish line for the most well known foot race in the world.  A race you are only allowed to run if you are good enough.....if you meet the required time in another marathon.  A race people work for years to qualify for.  But they finally qualify....and then they train some more.  The day comes, the excitement is in the air.  The race starts!  These victors run their hearts out and reach the finish line after passing crowds all along the route, cheering them on. It is an event that brings out the best in people.....both in the their athletic ability and in their support of their fellow man.  It celebrates life.  It celebrates humanity.  It celebrates the victor and the one who makes an attempt.  It celebrates the accomplishments of strangers of all ages, all nationalities.  It bonds these strangers and makes them of one accord.  It's a thing of beauty.

Today evidently someone tried to tamper with that.  They perverted a time that should be about triumph and turned it into pain.  They have taken life and health randomly and carelessly.  What is their purpose?  When did this purpose stall their heart and their humanity?  Why did they feel this was a solution?

I don't understand, but I know that people who do these things, who hate themselves and others, are not always strangers.  Often they are people who look like us, speak like us, and are us.  At some point something goes wrong.  They/we lose touch with reality.  Their personal pain overcomes their sanity.  

How do we change this?   How do we bring peace to our world?  How do we get these acts of terror to stop, not just in our country but around the world?

I believe in the power of the love of God, working through mankind.  I believe in peace, I believe in kindness, I believe in a brotherhood that reaches beyond the borders or states and countries.  I also believe in the need for more education about stress and fear and mental health, more resources for people to get help, and less stigma for those who do.  I believe that hate can start in a single heart and spread across the world, but that also love can do the same.    

I remember when my older sister learned a song when she was in elementary school and taught it to me as we were laying in bed at night.  Sometimes I think we forget the simplicity and truth found in these lyrics.  Are our lives teaching peace....or hate and violence?  We need to look in the mirror.

"Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me.
Let there be peace on earth
The peace that was meant to be.

With God as our father
Brothers all are we.
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony.

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now.
With every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow.

To take each moment
And live each moment
With peace eternally.
Let there be peace on earth,
And let it begin with me."


- Jill Jackson/Mark Miller

  

Going the Distance and Winning the Race

I can't really tell you why I agreed to run a 10k.  I know it happened after a few of my girlfriends had just finished doing our first mud run in Atlanta (a 5k) and we were all in pretty high spirits from that.  Prior to the mud run I had just finished the Couch to 5k program, and sometimes could run 30 minutes straight, but not all the time.  (My body does nothing consistently!)  That was huge for me.  It wasn't long ago that running a minute and a half at one time was a major feat.  Being able to run a mile at one time took me far longer than I would like to admit.  More than a year.  Maybe close to two.  But the second timeI tried the Couch to 5k program worked.  The first time I decided it was too hard and stopped.  But the second time I did it, my friend Patsy told me that I didn't have to do it in the nine weeks it sets out.  She said to do it as slowly as I needed to.  That took the pressure off.  If I was having problems with a week, I needed to repeat it until I could do it.  I repeated a week early on....I had trouble doing three five minute runs in one session.  That was the only week I had to repeat.....and the other weeks were much harder.  There is no accounting for it, other than I believe that progressing at running is about 75% mental!  That may be under-estimating.

So by the time I returned from Atlanta, I think I had agreed I would run this 10 k in Charleston.  Over a bridge.  I am phobic about bridges.  Yeah, I can't explain why I agreed to this.  For some reason it sounded like it would be fun.  The only explanation I can think of, is that it is the company I was keeping.  They lead me to crazy.

In preparation, I began the Bridge to 10 k program at the first of the year (the program's name is coincidental...the bridge is from the Couch to 5k program to a 10k program.  Still, it is fun that it fit my situation so well!  In my case it was Bridge to 10k over a Bridge.)  I never finished the program.  Especially the last month it was tough to find the time and when I did, I just wasn't feeling great about my running.  I never thought I would not finish the distance.....I knew I could walk it....but the idea of running the whole thing started to seem less likely.  I decided I didn't care.  And during the program I ran as many as 53 minutes straight.  Unbelievable for me!  And though my first 10k is over, I won't put it on the shelf.  I will still use that program to help me progress.  I plan to finish it.

So last weekend, it was time to run the Cooper River Bridge.  I didn't run it all, but that is OK.  I ran a lot of it.  The crowds intimidated me.  They also interested me....my ADD mind was in overdrive as it tried to process all of the people around me.  There were bands along the route that I passed in a blur.  It was odd...you could only hear them for a few minutes as you passed by.  It was almost like you were fast forwarding a video tape.  There were crazy costumes and interesting people to see.  Some people kept re-appearing.  You would pass them, they would pass you, then you would pass them again.

Then, about 4.5 miles in, my ankle started hurting.  I rarely get injured, so this annoyed me beyond reason.  I don't appreciate it when my body betrays me...especially for no reason (I didn't trip, turn it or otherwise do anything that would seem to make it happen.)  I hobbled for a while, but then tried to run again. It didn't hurt any worse, so I was able to run to the finish line.  It helped that at the last part of the race there were people cheering, cameras that would forever capture my image if I were walking, and the hope of the finish line.

I am rather confident at this point that I will never love running.  As I talk to people who run a lot, though, I find I am in the majority.  That gives me hope that love it or not, I can keep doing it!  My friend Joanie tells me she feels the same way....and she has done a half marathon, is training for her second, and appears to do it all effortlessly in comparison to me.  We were in conversation at breakfast when in Charleston last weekend and talked to a couple who also run.  They said the same thing. They don't love running either.  But the guy said he tracked his running and was surprised when the program told him he had run every week for 52 weeks straight.  Even on vacation....though when he thought about it he realized that all their vacations had been planned around a run.  That's what happens.  It sneaks up on you and you don't even realizing what you have accomplished until you start to think about how far you have come.  We all concluded is we all love the feeling of accomplishment when we have done it...particularly because it requires we conquer the hate and our mind telling us to stop  That is why we continue to run.

I've tried to describe what goes on in my mind to people and there are a couple of different dialogues, depending on the day.  Such as "I can't do this today.  Really.....I don't think I can even do a mile.  I have to do a mile!  OK....that is what I am going to try to do.  Just one mile.  After that I can turn around and walk home.  So OK.  I'll do it.  No, I can't do it.  I really hate this.  Shouldn't I have begun liking this by now? I may not even be able to do a mile."  Or "I can't do this today.  My breathing isn't right.  Why is it so loud?  Is there something wrong with me?  Maybe I should go see Judy (my nurse practitioner) and have her check me out.  Maybe I should just walk.  No....I am going to run just a bit more and see if it levels out."  Or "I can't do this.  I am not a runner.  Stop it....you are a liar.  You are running.  You are a runner.   No, I'm not.  It seems easy for everyone else.  It's not easy for me.  It's not natural.  I am not a runner.  I can walk.  I am a good walker.  Just not a runner.  Stop it....you are a liar.  You are running.  You are a runner." 

When I look at it logically, I know the truth.  I run, so I am a runner.  I will probably never be fast.  My time for the bridge run was 1:23:38.  Nothing to write home about.  But still...for me it's not bad.  I went from the start to the finish line.  While I did walk some, that actually added to the experience.  I was able to look around me and see some of the fun characters that were also running (though I missed the guy running in just Speedo running "shorts" and shoes that Joanie got to see pass by her.)   I was able to see the beautiful views from the bridge...and the bridge is so big it didn't scare me in the least to go over it.  Plus I was able to keep going though I felt pain in my ankle with every step (let me point out that I knew it wasn't a bad injury and I knew it was OK to keep going....I do listen to my body and think that is the most important thing to learn to do for any activity!)

31,449 people finished the Bridge Run this year.  One of those was me!  What was significant to me was not that I finished....I knew I could walk 6.2 miles.  What was significant to me was that I ran a good part of the way.  Slowly, carefully, a bit too tentatively, I think.  I know I could do it faster and run more than I did, but it really doesn't matter.  I enjoyed the experience and didn't spend that time sitting on the couch.  That is why I believe I won.  While I am never quite sure how I get myself into doing these things, I am glad I do.  It's a definite celebration of life and health and a bonding with humanity.  I can do it.  So can you.   Set a goal, and give it a try.  It doesn't have to be a run.  Try something you don't think you can do and then keep at it.  You will surprise yourself and learn some great life lessons.  And add a great chapter to the book of your life.