I have always believed that when a train stops you, it is meant to be.
Today, as I was buzzing around delivering packages to friends’ front porches, a train crossing lowered and as I braked, I realized the train was slowing down to a stop.
A friend called as this was happening and her questions were met with a distracted, irritated tone in my voice as my frustration increased.
I remembered my belief to be present but I really wanted to get home. I have been running around a lot today, and I wanted to sit and just be still.
That’s when I realize: I am sitting still. I thought about how it’s possible that the length of time I am here will put me on new timing and coordination with what is to come this afternoon.
I notice the train car in front of me: “Canadian Pacific” and see the maple leaf… I text my husband a pic… we love the Canadian Pacific. We crave it, actually.
So I could sit here and soak. It’s been ten minutes already. But as much as I believe that when you’re stopped in your tracks, it’s a place for you to be. I also believe that little pulse in your belly tells you when it’s time.
And just as I wrap this post to turn the car around, the trains starts creeping freely back. I smile at the timing of the moment. As I write, the train is now moving (opposite its original direction, mind you) and I feel the full circle validation only patience and attention can lend you.
One of the articles I read about teens and chores and making sure you are turning out respectable human beings into the world mentioned having “your teen make dinner for the family”. This makes a lot of sense to me. It is helpful but also practical in that there is a high likelihood of willingness and them being able to cook for themselves.
Mulling this over, my marriage to a southern boy has inherently come with a wifely mandate of semi regular red beans and rice. Red beans and rice legit never goes bad in this house. It is consumed and consumed again until it is gone and – who loves it the most? Aria.
So, Aria, who is virtual on Wednesdays – agreed to learn how to make red beans and rice. And not just any red beans and rice. I am teaching Aria how to make the red beans and rice recipe we have been iterating on. (Yes, we have agile recipe development in this house.)
This is the current version I have captured for our household red beans and rice. Try it out :)
Oh – and here’s our playlist she made from our roadtrip this summer you are welcome to enjoy while you cook up some red beans! We did.
Prep
Chop 1 yellow onion, 1 green pepper, 2 cloves of garlic and 2 celery stalks and set aside in a bowl
Chop up a package of andouille sausage and set aside in a bowl
Get out Worcesterhire sauce, 2 quarts of broth, your spices and your mustard (we use spicy brown or stone ground)
Heat 2 – 3 T olive oil on medium high in a pot
Add chopped veggies to pot
Stir chopped veggies up so they are covered in oil
Add as least two shakes of liquid smoke to the veggies – more if you want it smokier. Stir it up.
Lower heat to medium and cover while you do the next step
Add 1 T Worcestershire sauce and 1 T fancy mustard to the sausage and loosely mix
Add sausage mix from step 6 to translucent veggies and give it a good mix
Add 3 T taco seasoning, 1 tsp celery salt, 1 tsp salt and give it another good mix
With the base of veggies and sausage mix all working well together, add 4 cans of drained red beans
Add 2 quarts of chicken or veggie stock
Taste the broth and see if you want to add a little bit of sugar. Not proud of this move, but we like it with a twist of sweet
Bring to a boil, pray over it ya know and then lower to simmer for 30 – 45 minutes
It happened. I have been paying careful attention to the mornings and flipped my routine as well as started a little bit early. It made a big difference and (along with virtual school on Wednesdays so no high school drop off) I am sitting down – without any necessary housework – a little yoga planning and prepare my questions for the publishing director I am talking with later today.
I have a cup of coffee, I have a kind of gross but necessary smoothie and I have that new expansive feeling in my chest that tells me things are aligned and good in my world.
There were times, at Ellen and Lucy’s soccer games, I would be in a ball cap and sunblock, rag tag jeans and a v neck with a smell of things to do at home on me. I would sit back in the sun with my planner and thoughts and notice the moms who had clearly blow dried their hair that morning. I imagined them waking up a little bit earlier than their kids, tending to the things, then get ready for the day in a nice, clean bathroom; putting their hair and face on.
It is not that they were done up. These are down to earth moms who are really genuine in heart. They just looked a little more prepared for the day than I felt. I had mad respect and was determined to have that same level of togetherness.
Needless to say, the fact I rose a little earlier than the house to shower in my nice, clean bathroom is a sign of personal evolution.
***
About a month ago, David and I were falling asleep. I had my head on his chest when a clinch of grief came up.
I paid attention to it: cancer, early death, uncertainty.
In my lifetime, I have had personal relationships end an earthly state due to disease and early death. Kristi, Cheri, Mary, Sharoddi and Mark – each relationship was in active, fruitful stages when passing in the night, brain cancer, cervical cancer, rear end cancer (I can’t remember the name and honestly, I think she would get a good laugh at that), heart disease-ish attack came and the physical life of that person ended.
To say I know when grief rises in my chest is an understatement. I can smell grief. I can taste it. I know days ahead of time that I am starting to process loss and I know to start to paint, write or pray. I know when I am grieving something that isn’t gone yet. I know the importance of recognizing sunsets. I grieve like I breathe: letting the full breath go, trusting more will come.
I squeezed David upon that clinch of grief. In the chaos of deciding to expand and grow our 1700 sq ft house for our family of 7 instead of going for something bigger, in the mental game of parental assessment and responsibility for supporting each of these 5 kids’ needs, and in the constant sheer & subtle nature of the under current of concern induced by a pandemic, I said, “You know, these may be the best days of our life.”
You know, these may be the best days of our life.
I meant that. And I got a little choked up.
My friends that passed? Mid to late forties, fifties. I am 39, David 43. For all but Mark, I was with their families in the unwinding. Familiar with the worry and the adjustment required of disease, I recognized the absence of that worry in our lives. I inhaled and we both shared gratitude for the health of our families and commitment to doing our best to maintain it.
This morning, I split the smoothie into two, stirred his men’s probiotic in and brought David his to his office along with a multi-vitamin. When I was working I may have had to take a call while doing my morning routine and a smoothie would not have happened. I would have needed to speak, making a blender a non option. I would have needed to screen share, requiring me out of the kitchen. I would have felt torn and had to cut my losses and be less committed to this intention of giving it our best shot than I wanted to be.
In recognizing this dedication of my time and energy to the emotional and physical health of my tribe is what is keeping me busy, I am realizing this full bodied act of love we all have opportunities to express. We all should see the foods we eat and serve to others, our time in nature, and our time with each other – playing Go Fish (which we did last night – in our holiday decorated dining hall) as an expression of our gratitude for our health and ability.
Tired care givers “whipping up dinner” shifting thought to slowing down and creating a meal laced with benefits. Quiet time in the mornings spent writing notes albeit for lunch or mail boxes to remind the ones that grate us the hardest that we are so constantly there for them and to reinforce to the ones that give us the obvious constants to be grateful for that we cherish them. We thrive because of them.
I am not feeling regretful for years of feeding my family horse shit for dinner. (I didn’t, actually – I just thought that was funny to say.) Though I have not always used spirulina, I have been as intentional as I could be in the respective season of my evolution and my resources.
<sigh>
<smile>
These may be the best days of your life – how will you celebrate and show gratitude today?
Frozen Spaghetti 