01.29.09
Posted in Books about Mary at 11:24 pm by ginny
So I’m finding that one of the perks of being a parent is that you get to re-read all the books you loved as a kid. In the last few months, I’ve followed Harold on his nighttime adventures (accompanied by the purple crayon and the deserving pie-eating porcupine, of course). I’ve also been re-introduced to the sheer brilliance of Dr. Seuss, who somehow never grows old, no matter how many times an eager toddler thrusts Hop on Pop into your hands. There’s also the iconic Goodnight Moon, which was the livre du jour for a great many evenings last summer. It’s such a gentle way to unwind, to ease a toddler into sleep.
Having kids is also an excuse to prowl the kids’ section of the bookstore. For Matthew’s first Christmas, I gave him an inscribed copy of The Runaway Bunny. I loved it as a kid, and now it can actually move me to tears. Lukey’s book last Christmas was The Story of Ferdinand, which ranks right up there in my literary affections. You’ve got to love any story that has a pacifist bull as its protagonist.
So yes, I’m a sucker for children’s books. And, at the moment, my favorite Mary book happens to be a picture book meant for the under-twelve crowd. It’s a gorgeous story called Take it to the Queen: A Tale of Hope by Josephine Nobisso.
Take it to the Queen is an allegory meant to highlight Mary’s role as intercessor. It tells the story of a village whose inhabitants turn their backs on the king, distancing themselves from his wisdom and goodness. As a result of misguided choices, they end up close to famine and ruin. In the end, the ask for the queen — a native daughter of the village– to intercede on their behalf. WIthout giving away too much of the story, let me just say that 1) it ends happily, and 2) it’s a vivid illustration of the unique role that Mary can play in our spiritual lives.
The story itself is very detailed, and rich in symbolism. The flaps of the book offer an explanation of the story’s symbolic elements (a good thing; even I, an English teacher, didn’t catch all of them). It’s the kind of story you can read and re-read and find something new each time. The illustrations (by Katalin Szegedi) are positively sumptuous; they’re the most gorgeous pictures I’ve seen in a long time, incorporating painting and collage. There’s a real method to the artist’s choices; for example, we never see the actual face of the king (who, of course, represents God). I like that.
This is definitely one for the family shelf. You don’t even have to have kids to enjoy it … all you need is a sense of wonder, and a heart that is open — even just a bit — to Mary.
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01.27.09
Posted in Articles and columns, Musings at 9:36 pm by ginny
It seems odd to admit it, but the truth is that I really like to fold laundry. It isn’t a burden, somehow; it’s more like a pause, a chance to reflect on the people whose clothes I am sorting and piling into neat little stacks.
I go into this in more detail in my latest Catholic San Francisco column: Laundry, treasured time and life.
If only I could develop a similar love for doing the dishes ….
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01.22.09
Posted in Images of Mary, Musings at 10:45 pm by ginny
The tree has been gone for weeks, the stuffed snowmen have long since left the mantel, and the Christmas tablecloth is laundered and put away for next year. But the Nativity set remains. It’s just so pretty; I can’t quite bring myself to banish it to a box for the next eleven months. I think the color scheme (or lack thereof) makes a difference, too; it doesn’t scream “December” like so many of my red and green decorations do.
Plus I think there’s a teeny bit of me that still wishes it were Christmas. What can I say? I love the season. Always have, always will.
Any time I voice that sentiment aloud, it’s the cue for my husband to tap his chest dramatically. “Christmas is always here, in our hearts,” he says in a Hallmark-Movie-of-the-Week type voice, positively dripping with sap. I laugh, and change the subject.
But the Nativity Set remains. At some point, I’ll feel the need to box it up, to slip Mary and the wise men and the sheep into their sculpted beds of styrofoam. Up into the closet it will go, this last vestige of the holidays.
But not yet.
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01.19.09
Posted in Adventures in Parenting, Musings at 3:55 pm by ginny
I did a little gardening yesterday. It’s been freakishly warm here, so I took advantage of the weather to finish pruning the rosebushes and to pick dry leaves out of the beds. Weeds which had become brazenly territorial, growing undisturbed for months, are no more. It’s such a great feeling to pull a huge ugly weed up by the roots, knowing that it is, thoroughly, gone.
Maybe that’s why gardening is so therapeutic. It’s dirty and tiring and sometimes a puzzle (I’m sure I made some misguided pruning decisions on my roses) but in the end, you know you’re doing something concrete, something to make the world a little more beautiful. So I’m dreaming of spring, when I can really dig my hands into the garden (both literally and figuratively). Maybe this year, I’ll finally create that Mary garden I’ve been thinking of for years.
Speaking of Mary, her statue stands on the corner of the patio, lovely and white as always. She’s surrounded by dark damp leaves that I have yet to sweep, the relics of autumn. Just a few minutes ago she watched an exciting patio soccer match between Matthew and Mommy, one that continued until the younger (and more coordinated) player came in for his nap. It’s nice to have her there, a gracious spectator, a constant presence throughout every season of the year.
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01.15.09
Posted in Images of Mary, Musings at 5:41 pm by ginny
I’m picky about beaches. I’m not really a fan of the sunny, Baywatch, surf-n-sand ones. My ideal beach is foggy, windswept, dramatic: the kind we have here in Northern California, for instance. There’s something so evocative and romantic about strolling along the sand on a gray day, shoulders hunched inside my coat, few other people around to intrude upon my thoughts.
Those thoughts always turn to the immensity of the ocean. It’s impossible to look at that horizon and NOT feel humbled. It’s a good kind of humbled, though. It makes me realize that there is so much out there in the world, beyond my own perspective. Looking at the huge sweep of ocean, I can’t help but think of the courage of people who brave those waters and literally sail into the unknown.
Maybe this is why I love the title Stella Maris — Star of the Sea. It’s an old name for Mary, one that emphasizes her role as protector and guide. For centuries, the stars have helped sailors find their way through the treacherous ocean waters. Mary plays a similar role for us landlubbers. When you’re lost in the choppy churning waters of any kind of problem, try firing off a few prayers to her. She can get you back on the right course. She can keep you from drowning.
And I truly believe that Mary, like all moms, wants us to grow beyond ourselves. She wants us to explore the world and especially our own potential — but she wants us to do it safely. As we sail beyond our comfort zones she’s always there, watching us, cheering us on, and hoping we’ll look up whenever we feel lost at sea.
Image courtesy of Holy Cards For Your Inspiration.
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01.11.09
Posted in Musings at 10:26 am by ginny
For the record, I do not normally post pictures of my feet on the Internet (or anywhere else, for that matter). This is indeed a first. I just wanted to show off my pretty, pretty toenails:
Even two-year-old Matthew liked them. He squatted down on his haunches for a closer look. He then surveyed his bare, undecorated toddler nails, and looked back at my feet. “Cool,” he said.
I quite agree. See, I haven’t had a pedicure or a manicure in almost seven years. The last one I had was the morning before my wedding. Most of the time, I suffer with bland unpainted nails and ragged cuticles. This is all the more true since having kids; it takes enough time to maintain their nails, let alone get to mine. But my sister-in-law gave me a gift certificate for a pedicure for Christmas, and so I have rejoined the club of People Whose Nails Look Nice.
The whole experience was lovely. I mean, just sitting for an hour was bliss in and of itself. It is not something I normally do. To be more precise, it’s not something I normally let myself do.
Let me cite an example: one evening last week, as my hubby was relaxing on the couch with his laptop and a glass of wine, I was running hither and yon putting in laundry, organizing the mail, cleaning out my wallet. At one point, I sat down on the edge of the couch. “Okay, what’s the next task I can do?” I wondered aloud.
He looked at me. “How about sitting and relaxing for a bit?” he asked. I stared at him with utter incredulity, as if he’d just uttered some particularly noxious heresy, then sprang up to reorganize the desk area.
But he’s right, actually. I do need to force myself to rest. It’s darn hard to do, though. I think moms in particular fall into that trap of go-go-go, partly because we are so good at feeling guilt-guilt-guilt. But we all deserve a little rest. More than that, we all need a little pampering now and then.
So yes, the ruby nails are nice, but in a way, the downtime at the salon was even nicer. I got to stick my feet in a whirlpool tub, read Glamour magazine, and enjoy the novel experience of someone else doing something for me. The manicurist and I chatted about her native Vietnam, about learning English and missing her mom. And I feel pretty and refreshed, for a change.
As Matthew would say: Cool.
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01.06.09
Posted in Adventures in Parenting, Articles and columns, Musings at 10:32 pm by ginny
Since last September, I’ve been writing a monthly column on parenting and spirituality for Catholic San Francisco. My latest column — which happens to focus heavily on Mary– can be found here, on their spiffy new online site.
NOTE: The column is best read with the “Elmo’s World” theme music playing in the background (what do you mean, it’s not on your iPod???).
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01.04.09
Posted in Musings at 10:48 am by ginny
Okay, so I need some help.
I’ve decided that one of my New Year’s Resolutions this year will be to pray more. Forget the annual “I resolve to lose more weight” January 1st pipe dream. This year, it’s my spiritual self I want to get into shape.
My current prayer routine (can I even call it that?) needs some reworking. To use an exercise term: I’ve plateaued. Too often, the praying I do is in a day is limited to 1) grace before meals, 2) a quick list of intentions before bed, and 3) random moments of thinking about God as I go about the other tasks on my mom/wife/writer/teacher plate. I’m not saying this makes me a bad person, just a busy one.
But hey — I have to be honest here — if I can find time to visit Ebay to look at vintage tablecloths, I can sure as heck can find time to do more intentional praying. I just need to figure out what kind of praying works best for me.
So here’s my current plan. For 2009, I resolve to try a new kind of prayer each month. The structure of that appeals to me; it gives me a chance to build my spiritual toolbox without having to commit to a form of prayer that may not, in the end, work for me. I figure I can do anything for a month.
I’m starting with the rosary, which I’ve never done on a daily basis. January is thus covered. But I need more suggestions — eleven, to be precise.
So please share below … what are the forms of prayer that work for you? That have worked in the past? The ones you’ve always wanted to try? This can be structured prayer (like the rosary), or other informal ways that you engage with God. Everything is on the table: mantras you repeat, books you read, activities you do that feed your spiritual self. Even if you think it seems simple or obvious, please share. It won’t be simple or obvious to me.
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01.01.09
Posted in Feast Days and other fun times, Musings at 1:19 am by ginny
Today — as anyone with a calendar, TV, radio, or hangover knows — is New Year’s Day. It also happens to be the feast of the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.
It has occurred to me that the timing of this feast day is brilliant. The real, historical background for the feast can be found here, for any interested parties. But I personally think there are two major reasons why it makes sense to celebrate Mary on January 1.
Reason One: it’s one week after the birth of Christ. I don’t know about the other moms out there, but frankly, one week after giving birth, I was not at my best. I was severely sleep-deprived; I had major soreness from nursing (that was as true with my second child as with my first, unfortunately). Due to my C-section incisions, I could not laugh without pain, and I had to execute a series of intricate gymnastic maneuvers to do something as simple as get out of bed, an activity which normally requires the use of my egregiously undervalued abdominal muscles. Yes, I was basking in the glow of my sweet little babies, but my body felt like it had been taxed to the breaking point. Throw in the inevitable post-birth hormonal fluctuations, and I felt like a royal mess.
It would have been the perfect time for the world to honor me with a feast day. That would have cheered me up considerably.
Reason Two: January 1st is a new year, and a new start. I think that all moms — Mary included – really get the importance of giving second chances. Moms are pros at this.
For example: on a Sunday morning, your toddler zealously sweeps the coffee table clean of Annoying Things That Are Not Thomas the Tank Engine Toys. Unfortunately, one of those things happens to be a water glass, which breaks all over the floor. The toddler instantly knows that he’s made a big mistake. You, in your infinite mercy and kindness, do not flip out at him, and instead turn it into a teachable moment (after you’ve sequestered him safely in his crib and spent fifteen minutes obsessively vaccuuming a five-foot radius around the crash site, that is). The repentant toddler is then free to return to his Thomas toys. See? Second chances.
Oh, and if you DID flip out and utter harsh words, the good news is that you, Mom, get a second chance, too.
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