Turning 44

Tomorrow, is my birthday, and I will be 44.  I think the 40's are a time for deep contemplation of life.  I can see why many a mid-life crisis happens in the 40's.  In your 20's, you have entered into adulthood and everything is about establishing independence.  In your 30's, you are digging deep into your career, your family, and life and you build stability.  In your 40's though, you realize that fast approaching are the 50's and 60's, with all the health issues, and retirement income worries.  You realize that you may never get to retire.  Your parents' health starts to fail and in many cases, you lose one or both parents.  Your children in many instances have either left the nest, are about to, or even worse, they hit puberty...right at the time you begin to hit menopause.  I think God had a design flaw in that plan....or maybe I should have had my kids younger.  By the time you get to your mid 40's, you realize there is a very good chance you may not live another 44 years....it's humbling.

As a woman, I think that another thing starts to happen as well.  Maybe something that doesn't happen to men until much later...which is that you realize that many people will start to see you as a middle aged woman, with all that implies.  You realize that you are pretty much past child bearing years, while the men still have years of viable sperm left.  Men are classified as "distinguished" as they age, while women get plastic surgery or Botox themselves to death...we have only to look at Barbara Walters and her plastic face to see what society attempts to require of us.
These sorts of stereotypes and story lines about middle-aged woman sometimes lead woman to engage in our own Peter Pan'ish fantasies in which we run around acting half our age if only to prove that we are hip or whatever we are trying to prove. 

BUT, I think I would like us to reclaim something.  In many ancient societies, the older woman was revered as a wise teacher, a mother to all, and a voice of timeless truths.  Somewhere along the way we have lost the idea that age can lend something to a discussion, to society.  Our quest for the fountain of youth and all things young, hip and fast, has caused us to downplay the important role of all ages in our culture, and the contributions each stage of life can make.  Experience should count for something.  Somehow, in our modern world, maybe starting in the 1960's,  youth culture forced the elderly off the stage, and the elderly ceded that ground to the youth.  We have become victims of corporate marketing to such an extent we now "type" people by which generation they belong to. 

Well, this is my battle cry of Revolution a la Tawanda from Fried Green Tomatoes fame.  Don't cede your experience, your authority, or your wisdom to our youth infatuated culture.  Keep your balance by having one foot in modernity and one foot grounded in experience.  Don't let anyone make you feel less valued as you age.  If I think about people I admire who aged gracefully, Katharine Hepburn immediately jumps to mind.  She was herself, and true to herself to the end, all the while not being critical of others, but staying grounded in who she was while at the same time adapting to the world around her. 

As women, we face challenges of biology unique to our feminine identities.  But we don't have to be held captive to expectations, stereotypes or generational categories.  Embrace your 40's, and live life fully.  By this time in your life, you have learned enough to know who you are, so go out into the world, confidant about that identity and live, laugh and love.  Enjoy every moment, because as we have learned by the time we reach our 40's, time is precious!

Merry Christmas Family and Friends!

Here I sit on Christmas Eve Eve, having decided to write an electronic, non-paper Christmas card this year.  For Eco-friendly reasons and due to time constraints, I figured this is the best way to reach the most amount of people before Christmas!  So, in honor of our kids attending a Montessori School where these are all the rage, I present to you:

A Christmas Acrostic!

M is for Monica who this year became a certified yoga teacher!  After years of just talking about it, she decided it was time to just do it!  After a year of studying and exams, Monica is pleased to announce she is certified at the 200 RYT level in Hatha yoga.

E is for "Every" night....every night it's something: from Max's choir practice to Swim team to ballet to yoga to...well, you get the idea.  Every night, there is something going on, and Monica and Mark most often feel like taxi drivers.

R is for reading!  Sarah learned to read this year and has already read several little books for us.  It is so fun to see her reading in such a natural way that made it so fun for her to learn.

R is for rhythm.  Both kids really enjoy music, dancing and singing!  If you ask them their favorite pop song, Sarah might say it is the "Better When I'm Dancing" song from the Snoopy movie, and Max would say probably Psy's new hit "Daddy."

Y is for yearly!  It was fun to make our yearly trek to Lakeside, Ohio this year to spend time with our dear friends Kelly and Zane and their kids Madelyn, Ciarra and Torin, as well as with Monica's parents.  The kids had a blast this year as we decided to take the plunge and share a cottage almost right on the water.  We saw some great shows, ate Sloopy's pizza, and had fun hanging out on the front porch painting rocks.  We also traveled to Canada for the Shaw Festival to stay at our favorite old inn, The Charles, and to see a few plays.  We also visited family in West Virginia over Spring Break.  And of course, there were the fun concerts at Blossom to hear the always amazing Cleveland Orchestra!

C is for cat!  This year we added another fur baby to our family with the addition of Weasley, a ginger tabby who is super sweet and a bit wild.  He loves to torment his big sisters: Grizabella, Agatha and Daisy.

H is for holy.  This year, our family, after much thought and contemplation, decided to become Catholic.  Monica is currently going through RCIA classes at St. Mary's Parish in Wooster, while Max will take his first communion on his 11th birthday in the Spring.  Mark is planning to take RCIA next year and Sarah will continue in her Parish School of Religion classes.

R is for riding our bikes.  This Summer, due to some great weather that extended late into Fall, we really enjoyed riding bikes together as a family, all over Orrville.  Biking to get ice cream, or down to our neighborhood hang out Jerry's, made the summer a blast!

I  is for Indians! One of the things we enjoyed most about this summer was our mini season ticket package to the Cleveland Indians' games. Our kids loved the games and the stadium so much, they both got the bug of collecting baseball cards, and their new favorite song became "The Star-Spangled Banner".  We can't wait for Spring Training.

S  is for Suzuki.  Sarah started Suzuki violin last year, and has already had several opportunities to perform in the community.  The lessons keep mom and dad busy as Sarah goes twice a week:  once during the week and then Saturdays for group classes.

T  is for total shock!  After a year of playing the drums, Max shocked his drum-playing parents with the shocking news that he wanted to play....flute!  He is apparently a natural at it, and seems to enjoy it, but Monica's hopes for another percussionist seem to be a bit lost.  He still plays the piano, which is often labeled a percussion instrument, so there's that consolation.

M is for Montessori.  The kids are enjoying spending another year at Montessori school. Max has been there for four years, and Sarah, since she was a baby.  Max is in fourth grade and part of the Upper El class.  He loves his teacher, Mrs. Gamble, and has worked on some interesting projects from Muhammad Ali to a project on his Aunt Lianne's youth in Germany to John Singer Sargent.  Sarah is in kindergarten and got to be the first class in the new building that went up on campus this year.

A is for "A" fixture...Mark is still at Smuckers, and Monica at the University of Akron. Monica intends on expanding her law practice this year in addition to teaching yoga and classes at Akron.  Yep, she's a busy girl! 

S is for Super....we feel super blessed and super fortunate to live in a great little town, in a great county, which is in close proximity to Cleveland  and Akron, with wonderful friends and family to surround us.  We also feel super blessed to have two great international students, Nanako Ito and Hero Endo, both from Japan and now Juniors at the College of Wooster as our extended adopted family.   

So, as I close this Christmas acrostic, we wish you a blessed Christmas, a very happy Holiday and a bountiful and peace-filled New Year.  May next year's election cycle not drive you completely batty! 

Blessings,

Monica, Mark, Max, Sarah-Grace, and ^^Lydia^^
And the cats:
Grizabella, Agatha, Daisy, and Weasley

How to Avoid the Christmas Crazies:  The Real Meaning of Advent

Since I began this journey to become Catholic, I have been amazed by how deep and rich a tradition the Catholic church really is.  There are so many ways to become engaged in your faith that I never felt I had as a Protestant.  One thing that especially strikes me about this richness is the holistic manner in which you can experience your religion within Catholicism.  From the beauty of the Mass, to a relationship with Mary, to the idea of the Invisible Church and Saints, there are a myriad of ways to connect with and identify with your faith. 

As I have been studying about and learning about Catholicism, and as Mark will tell you, it is an involved process, I have been struck by the way in which the Old Testament presages the Gospels, which in turn are tied in to St. Paul's Letters.  I had never examined as a Protestant, not in all the Bible studies I attended, the history and richness of the Old Testament as it relates to what is coming in the Gospels.  Each Mass those dots get connected and you can see a clear path from the old covenant to the new. 

One of the most beautiful traditions I am currently experiencing is the Catholic understanding of Advent.  The word "advent" derives from its Latin root advenire which means "to come".  As a Protestant, I had largely experienced Advent through the lighting of the advent wreath. I wasn't aware of what this period really meant in the early Church. In the Catholic sense,  Advent is a time of penitential reflection as we await the incarnation of God through Jesus.

As part of that idea of incarnation, we celebrate the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, the Feast of our Lady of Guadalupe, and on January 1, otherwise known as New Year's Day, the Solemnity of the Virgin Mary.   These feast days mean that one is reflecting on Mary's role in the incarnation as well as what Advent means in the larger context, which is the idea of Jesus coming into history in the first century A.D. but also his coming in the "to be continued" context, meaning, when he comes again.  The word penitent means that we are in thought about our sins and about how we need to conform our minds and hearts to God's will.  As Catholics, we contemplate and experience the sacrifice that is reflected at each Mass through the sacrament of communion.

And so, in the midst of Christmas music about Santa and reindeer, which is fun and delightful for us all, I am reminded of the true meaning of Christmas:  obedience, in Mary's response to God, and sacrifice, in God making himself fully human for us.  For us.  It's easy to get wrapped up in all the craziness of gift giving, TV shows, food, parties and the  non-stop Christmas, but not necessarily sacred, music on the radio, BUT like the true inspiration for Santa, St. Nicholas, it's also about giving to others, and trying each day to reflect the spirit of Christ to our brothers and sisters.  My kids aren't going to have lots of presents this year, mostly because I want them to think about what Christmas is all about.  We will go to Mass a bunch, even on days other than a Sunday. We will light the advent wreath, we will give to charity, but most of all, we will refocus our minds by shifting our focus from the Christmas tree to the manger scene.

May you have a very Christ-filled Advent!

Monica

The Beauty of Mass: What the Japanese Tea ceremony and the Mass Have in Common

 

As part of my journey toward Catholicism, part of what drew me to the Faith in many ways is the ritual and beauty of the Mass.  There is a certain comfort in doing things in a prescribed manner, and repeating gestures over the course of time. As Americans, we often find the process of doing something the same way every time, boring or repetitive.  Sometimes, we need to look at things from a different perspective.  In Asian culture, there is a beauty in simple gestures, in repetition and to use American language to describe ritual:  it is process orientated instead of being outcome orientated.  Let me explain what I mean by that.

Have you ever watched the Japanese tea ceremony?  If not, I encourage you to click on the link below and spend about 10 minutes watching a traditional Japanese tea ceremony. What you will come to understand by doing this, is that it is not the cup of tea at the end that is most important; instead, the tea ceremony is about the acts and steps themselves.  In other words, the ceremony is an end in and of itself, and in many ways, the tea that results is part of the process, not the end.  The tea is a means to  an invitation to a way of life, a way of thinking and a way of viewing the world.  In many ways, this invitation is to the Zen mindset, where repetitive gestures allow us to go deeper in our mindsets.  We can think about other aspects of Japanese culture and Zen thought that follow along the same lines, from the art of sushi to the art of origami.  The process of creation with attention to detail and with the idea that HOW something is done is as important as the act itself, strikes me as signficant and meaningful.

Fast forward to me experiencing the Mass multiple times when Max was a student at St. Mary School.  As one experiences the Mass, from the words and songs that are repeated each time, to the liturgy and gestures of the Eucharist, to the priest cleaning the cups and bowls at the end of the Mass, there is a quietness of mind, a peacefulness, and a quiet stillness that pervades as one experiences the Mass.  The repeated lines and gestures are not just empty words nor are they empty gestures.  They give rise to the very body and blood of Christ, while simultaneously enveloping one in an active spirit.  I feel a serene sense of peace as I watch the Priest lift the cup and the Eucharist, repeat the words that bring life, and then, at the close of the Mass, the quiet gesture of cleaning the chalice and bowls remind me of the presence of God at work in the Mass, as each element is treated with respect, care and reverence. 

I think sometimes it is hard for Americans in particular to sit and quiet the mind.  Somehow we feel we have to be completely active to be in an experience.  Very rarely are we asked to or do we tolerate an experience of watching and quiet participation.  In our fast-paced world, we rarely tolerate the quiet moments in life, even though we claim that is what we want. The reality is that passivity and receptivity often can yield a stronger active response from us, than moments in which hyperactivity is demanded or asked of us. 

It may seem strange to compare these two seemingly unrelated rituals, but in some ways, they are more alike than they are different.  I was telling a friend the other day how strange it was that I had to take a journey from Methodism through Buddhism to arrive at Catholicism.  Keeping with my theme about how the journey is as important as the destination, I guess I couldn't arrive home until I traveled the right path.  May you each find your path home.  

Japanese Tea Ceremony

My Encounter with St. Francis of Assisi

Lord, Make me an instrument of your peace.  Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.  O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love; for it is in giving, that we receive; it is in pardoning, that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are brought to eternal life. Amen

The summer of my second year of law school I was blessed to clerk for a really great firm.  I was paid a very generous stipend and at the end of the summer, was offered a full time position to begin after my third year of law school.  I was very blessed to be one of the law students not looking for employment my third year; from bar expenses to a stipend while I studied, life was set to be good.

My mom and I decided to take the trip of a lifetime to celebrate my good fortune.  The plan was to take a trek that started in London, went across the Channel to France, down to Paris, continuing on to The French Riviera, to Geneva, Switzerland and the Alps, across the mountains to Italy to see Florence, then Venice, then Assisi, on to Rome, and finally, back to London.  The trip was akin to the grand tour that many Americans went on in the late nineteenth century.  If I remember correctly Amy of "Little Women" fame went on such a trip after Jo made Aunt March exasperated one too many times.

Yes, the trip was all it was cracked up to be, complete with a cast of characters in our tour group with whom Agatha Christie would have had great fun.   We had a funny as hell British tour guide and a charming French bus driver to round out the ensemble.  From seeing topless dancers in the Moulin Rouge to gliding down the Grand Canal to seeing the Sistine Chapel, it was a not-to-be forgotten trip.  Oh yes, and let us not forget the trip to the historic casino in Monaco a la James Bond fame.  Yes, it was indeed THE grand tour.

BUT, more memorable than of these events, either individually or as a group, was the pilgrimage I unwittingly made to the church in Assisi where the Franciscan order was established and where St. Francis acted out the words and deeds of the above prayer on a daily basis.  I say that I made the pilgrimage "unwittingly" because at the time I was going to a Methodist church in large measure because a family member, my Aunt Gene, had insisted I go with her to church.  There, I met a group of wonderful people with whom I sang in the church choir and with whom I had established true friendship, but I would not characterize my life as either spiritual or religious.

When I went to Assisi, I really did not know much about St. Francis. Because I was raised in the Methodist Church and we Methodists didn't study or believe in "saints", I was largely ignorant of the early church and the work of people such as St. Francis.   Hearing about St. Francis from our tour guide,  and reading about what he did by tending to the sick, the poor, the unwanted in the world, and giving totally of himself to others for his faith, deeply and profoundly impacted me.  While I had been in Catholic churches before, I did not know much about the monastic orders.  Yes, I had studied about this in college, but in such a way that the Church was portrayed negatively without much focus on this aspect of the history.

When we went to the Church, we were told the story of how doves come and alight on the statue of St. Francis in the courtyard.  We were then taken into the Church by way of the courtyard and sure enough, doves were alighting on St. Francis' humble statue.  As we were led into the Church, which is quite a simple affair when one compares it with St. Mark's in Venice or St. Peter's Basilica or the myriad other grand French Gothic cathedrals, tears came to my eyes as I thought of the work St. Francis had done in this very place and how seriously he would have taken the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.  In many ways, his work in tending to the sick and needy was a precursor to the work of Mother Theresa.  I was moved to find out more about St. Francis and it inspired me to take a fresh look at Medieval history and philosophy.  So much of religious life feels judgmental and hypocritical, but St. Francis felt and still feels like the real deal.  He is authentic, and lived out his words.  He just didn't talk the talk, he literally walked the walk.

And so that brings me to the prayer above.  When I went to Mass this Wednesday, I picked up the book in the pew that tells the order of service and also functions as a hymnal.  When I picked it up, it fell open to the prayer of St. Francis.  The above prayer is a reminder of what Christianity is supposed to be all about.  Love God with your whole heart, and love thy neighbor as yourself.  It's not about you, but about serving others.  So, even though today isn't St. Francis' Saint Day, I remember him nonetheless for being the stirrings of my conversion and for being a beacon of reminding us what our faith is supposed to be all about.

Becoming Catholic

So, I have kind of a big announcement.

At least it is a big announcement from my perspective. From your perspective, it may be and probably is, inconsequential.

The big news: I am becoming Catholic. Shock. Awe. Surprise!

Actually, I do have a few good reasons for making the announcement, and not just keeping it private. First, nothing much in life is private anymore. With the advent of social media, we are all pretty much "in" each others lives. I even know what many of you on Facebook ate for dinner, which was something that used to be a closely guarded secret. I'm guessing you'd hear about this news through the grapevine anyway, and I'd like to be the one that tells you about my decision instead of finding it out and speculating as to the "why".

 Another reason I am telling people in this rather public fashion is that maybe I can reach people who are struggling with their faith or struggling spiritually, and in some way help others on their faith journey. Maybe you don't become Catholic but at least you know change is ok, and it can be a good thing to go where you heart and mind lead you, or where God calls you, as in my case.

Finally, and most important, I am telling people the good news because hey, when you've found a great healing remedy for the spirit, why hide it under a bushel. In other words, as the song goes, "this little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine".

So as to the "why", I guess I will start by saying that this blog is an attempt to document my journey to becoming Catholic. The why's, the how's, the when's....basically, a chance to see what it is like to go through the process and to witness someone's faith journey. Thus, I intend to make this blog a journal of sorts, discussing issues and my perspective as I wind my way through the RCIA, or Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults.

I have come to this decision after much deliberation, thought, reading and analysis. If you know me, you know that to be a true statement. Of course, I have studied the teachings of the Church for years as a student and academic, but it is only since Lydia was sick, that I first really embarked on this journey. I have read and re-read all the great Catholic theologians such as St. Augustine, St. Thomas Aquinas, and St. Anselm, and I have done much reading and listening to Catholic Apologists explaining the doctrines of the church.

The thing I truly have come to love about Catholicism is that I don't have to check my intellect at the door to become a Catholic. Great theologians have wrestled with the Scriptures for generations, after having studied Plato, Aristotle and other Greek philosophers. These theologians analyze the Scriptures based on logic and reason, which is a huge part of the appeal to me of Catholicism. Every text is analyzed for its historical context, and doctrines are substantiated by logical syllogisms.

Additionally, the Catholic Church is steeped in history and tradition. Each day has the history of a Saint attached to it, and learning about what that particular Saint did, is a window into the formation of the faith and Church and a testament to the good works that many have done over the centuries. Today is St. Monica's Day, and through the history of St. Monica, we learn about her son St. Augustine, and the fact his mother, Monica, prayed fervently for his conversion to Christianity, giving Christianity perhaps its greatest theologian.

Now, I can imagine some people will be "turned off" by this decision. That's ok. You're prerogative to disagree, even to look away. But, I hope that you will be open-minded and can look at it, if nothing else, as a means of me finally being able to make peace between the rational part of my brain and the faith part of my heart and spirit.

So, I hope you will join me on this faith journey of learning and discovery.

Peace be with you,

Monica