This Do in Remembrance of Me

Collegiate Church of St. Boniface, Freckenhorst, Germany

For every Sunday I can remember before going off to university, I sat on the front row of my preacher dad’s church tracing with my mind’s eye the Old English letters on the Holy Communion table in front of the pulpit:

 

 

I’m guessing everyone here knows not only WHO said that but WHEN and WHERE, no matter what religious background.  Eucharist words.

But when you trace things like that, repeatedly, over and over again, they become stuck somewhere in your subconscious, taking on a mind of their own.  That’s probably why I took a calligraphy class in a past life and inscribed names on Dale Carnegie certificates.  Before that, in another life of wild dreams and great expectations, I labored over the Book of Kells as a female scribe!

Did you know that, over recorded history, Easter Sunday has occurred as early as March 22^nd and as late as April 25^th.  That’s a spread!

It goes like this:  Jesus’ death and resurrection occurred at the time of the Jewish Passover, which was celebrated on the first full moon following the vernal equinox.  By 325CE the Christians (à la the Council of Nicaea) decided Easter would fall on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the vernal equinox.

Got it?

And what is the vernal equinox, you ask???  And when???  SPRING!  And it starts tomorrow.

So, today is March 19, and I’m definitely in the ballpark…even though Easter isn’t until April 20^th this year.  It’s confusing, isn’t it!

All of that to explain why NOW, today, I’m thinking about Easter and how it has taken on a mind of its own.

It so happens that my dad, Carl Clarence, died on the Wednesday before Easter in 1995.  A year later, my brother, Bennett Williams, died a month before Easter.  A year later, my mom, Barbara Nelson, died 30 minutes before Easter.  (Three of my bright morning stars!)

Not that I come to this time of the year wondering if another of my 6 remaining siblings or our children or grandbabies will die, mind you, but rather that it’s a time of remembrance for me now…of those already passed...more than at any other time of the year. 

In fact, what I mean to say about this new mind of its own, is that when we remember those who have died, we start naming our children after them.  Have you noticed? 

Olive Nelson Bennett Sidney Rueben Reuel Barbara Carl Clarence Hodges Susan Elizabeth Virginia Louise Nancy Rebecca Williams James Thomas John Stephen Ruth Ann.

Every one of those names has either been passed on from the generations above and/or to the generations below.  I say generations, plural, because, one name, Ann, was just recently passed to the 3^rd generation below mine in our Hart Tribe.  Another name, Olive, set to be born any day now, comes from 4 generations above.  That’s a spread!

Death is about remembering.  Dying to not forget because nothing lives forever.  Right now we’re dying for spring.  We know it will come, just like every year before.  We don’t doubt it.  We expect it.  We add a spring to our step in anticipation.

It’s the cycle we relive over and over again:  death--resurrection.  The one thing we know for sure is it IS a cycle.  It’s not stuck!  And the good news about that is…we all remember! 

THIS DO IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME

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While celebrating our weekends, and in the spirit of our global collaboration and community of support, we are featuring our personal art as 'Vision to Verb' notecards. 

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Between You, Me and the Lamppost

And, borrowing another good phrase, don’t you just love it when you’re surprised by joy!

A couple of weeks ago, back in January, Astrid surprised the heck out of me when she unfurled a well-formed brain fart to trade in our 4-year-old car for a new one. 

In 2010 we had purchased out-right our Granny Towanda (above), 3 months after I moved to Dutchland.  Her Granny-Smith-Apple green, melded with Towanda from Fried Green Tomatoes, was a perfect match for us ladies of a certain age, we thought.  Astrid treated her with kid gloves every single day and praised the ground she drove on.  I never saw anyone take better care of a car.

So when at 48K km (30K miles) Astrid unfurled her plan, I was startled.  Somehow I assumed Granny Towanda (GT) was just getting started.  Maybe by American standards, yes, but by Dutch standards?  No.  (Remember “200 years vs. 200 miles?”)  Apparently 50K km is the magic number over which you don’t drive if you want a good trade-in deal on a small car. 

And so a bit bemused, I sat back and watched the story unfold.  One week after hatching her plan, we talked shop with Pedro over a new car.  He had sold us GT and knew Astrid well enough to see the good deal he was getting, especially since Daihatsu was no longer selling our car in Europe.  It was a win-win…and a week later we picked up our “new” silverleaf Škoda Citigo, a 6500 km demo we couldn’t refuse.  It was like Christmas a month late, which I never saw coming.

But that’s not the surprise I’m talking about!

Remember when I mentioned last post how the Dutch turn the year when January comes…and how I wanted to turn it upside down to rattle my cage?  Hoping all the bad stuff would slide right out and leave room for new energy!

Well, it’s mid-February and the revolution has begun!  Call it an intention, call it a mantra, call it my word for the year.  But in the same way I go to bed at night and wake up in the morning with thank-you on my lips, I have now added “…and WHO?!”  Thank you…and WHO?   Who can I reach out to today?!  Who can I love, help, build up, encourage, comfort, praise?!  Who can I surprise by joy?!

Not to sound corny but…IT’S WORKING!  I’m not thinking about me, myself and I all the time now,   which was the point.  My focus is more outward than inward.

Between you, me and the lamppost…I’m calling this my 2014 personal REVOLUTION.  It’s like I’m on a war path.  GET OUT OF MY WAY, Ginnie.  I’m way too old to not “get it” and still young enough to change.  Thoughts become actions, you know, and actions become a way of life.  And they have the power to surprise the heck out of us! 

¡Viva la Revolución!  Viva the JOY! 

 

As the Year Turns

The Broerenkerk in Bolsward, NL.

No one puts new wine into old wineskins. For the wine would burst the wineskins,
and the wine and the skins would both be lost. New wine calls for new wineskins.  (Mark 2:22)

Sometimes I just want to tear everything down, sweep everything out, and start all over again!

In Dutch, when the New Year arrives, it’s called jaarwisseling:  turning of the year.  What I want to do this year is grab it by the collar and turn it completely upside down.

I’ve come to that tipping turning point when I’m sick and tired of many things from last year(s):   ASSumptions.  Expectations.  Jealousies.  Comparing.  Analyzing.  Judging.  Criticizing.  Calculating.  Keeping score.  Taking notes.  Guessing.  Being offended.  Taking things personally.  ASSumptions.

What did So-and-So mean when she said that?  Why didn’t she say “Thank You?”  I’m not a gourmet cook like she is…and that embarrasses me because…???  She Liked and Commented on So-and-So’s post but not mine.  What does that mean?  When did she get to be the judge of good photography?  How come they chose her and not me?  She is so poetic.  Why can’t I be like her?

And on and on it goes.  Those voices in the head.  The devils on the shoulder.  Whispering.  Always whispering.

Some of us have already talked about this.  Was it the same before the internet?  Before social media?  When did it all start?  At school?  Home?  In our religious up-bringing?

Always competing.  Always comparing.  Always thinking I’m less than.  Always wanting to be someone I’m not and never understanding why.

Me Me Me Me Me Me Me.  It’s always about ME.

I WANT SOME NEW WINE!  But you can’t pour it into old wineskins, says Holy Writ.  You’ve got to “turn the year” and start with something new. 

Love your neighbor as yourself.  Nothing new about that! 

Have you ever thought about why it takes us so dang long to love ourselves and be comfortable in our own skin?  Shouldn’t we have it down pat by now?  I think it’s a conspiracy to keep us from doing what’s important…like loving the world and trying to make a difference in it, wherever we are.

And so in these early days of a new, turned year, I am dead set on standing up to those little devils who get away with murder.  I love and accept myself just the way I am.  I love and accept you just the way you are.  (Which doesn’t mean I’m okay with either one of us getting away with murder, by the way.)

And when I bow with my Namaste to you, I do not compare or judge or chide…either one of us.  No one is asking "who’s better?”  But if you are the one, then Hallelujah.

IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE, Ginnie!  Which is why my intention for 2014 is:  To be concerned about my own achievements less and about the success of others more. 

Everyone wins!  Everyone scores!  Everyone is good enough!  Everyone is…better than good enough!

So, let’s all turn the year—this year—completely upside down, in whatever ways we need it, personally or collectively.  Let’s open some new bottles of wine and throw out the old wineskins. 

HELLO, 2014!  Are you ready for us?