Tonight's homily contained a thought that really stuck with me, as a good homily should. (Actually, there were a number of good points to ponder, but then there was this one....) It went something like this, "Not one of us is the same person we were last New Year's Eve."
How very true.
If asked to specify changes, I'd be hard pressed, but all I need is a quick look inward to see a difference. Although there are individuals who would question or disagree, I can say with certainty that I wouldn't go back. I have a long way to go, but I have traveled far on this journey.
At the moment, I'm in a rough spot, kind of between, and difficult to define, but I'm learning the vocabulary to speak and live it. Augustine said something along the lines of his search for God leading to a search for himself. That when he finally found his own heart, his true self, he found where God had been all along. I feel a certain affinity for Augustine. I've been looking at various areas of my life - past and present - and trying to find God in them. Some are easier than others, but what I'm slowly realizing is that I think the places I'm finding it hard are the times I was least myself; when I was working to please, impress, or blend in. The question may need to change from "where were You?" to "where was I?"
In the past year, I've begun to learn to stand firmly for myself. And to be consistent and firm in that, while also being calm and willing to receive what comes of it. I've made mistakes, but that's how we learn, we humans. I told my therapist yesterday that I have always hated 'practicing.' "As a dancer?" he laughed, "And yet you found a way." As we talked about that, he said that practice is an inefficient word for what we were really talking about. A better word?
Living.
And I realized he is right (as he often is) and that living is what I've had a hard time doing consistently. I do - have done - an awful lot of waiting. I'm moving forward. One step at a time, complete with stumbles, trips, scrapes and bruises. But I am not - am never - alone. God is with me, whether I recognize Him or not. I am not the person I was a year ago. And I am grateful to all who have helped me along.
Showing posts with label new year's day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new year's day. Show all posts
Thursday, January 1, 2015
not the same
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
it's what's for dinner
Who would have thought that sauerkraut could cause such strong reactions in people? Honestly, I had no idea.
I grew up with no particular New Year's Day traditions, other than perhaps finishing my thank you notes before school started up again. My grandparents would come for dinner, but holiday dinners were always something different, and usually something we'd never had before (or again after, for that matter). [When I was a little older, possibly my early teens, I remember Gramma Katie meeting me at the door on New Year's Day, and telling me not to come in. When she saw the confusion on my face, she explained that it was good luck for the first visitor of the year to be male, so I would have to wait until Dad or my brother to walk through the door first. Since then, I have tried to more sneakily incorporate this tradition.] It wasn't until I met my husband that I started to experience the concept of "traditional" foods on holidays and other special occasions. Since then, we have developed our own food traditions, particularly on Christmas Eve.
The other day, while grocery shopping for the week, we modified Jonathan's menu to have steak on New Year's Day with Mom. After getting the steaks, chicken and some bacon from the butcher, I turned to Guy and asked if we should get some shrimp, too. I didn't think anything of it, other than it makes a nice appetizer when dinner's not quite ready. I found out later that when one of the boys asked why we'd gotten shrimp (it wasn't on the menu, after all, and we tend to be sticklers there), he said that it was because I'd remembered that it was traditional for his family to have shrimp on New Year's Day. When I heard the explanation, I admitted that had nothing to do with it, but I will try to remember to include it in the future, since it clearly means more to him than either of us had realized.
What does all this have to do with sauerkraut? Well, I can't stand the stuff. We live in an area of the country that is steeped in Germanic tradition, and apparently that New Resident Handbook that we seemed to have misplaced when we relocated from a totally different area of the country includes the fact that here, if you want to survive the year, you must have pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day for good luck. For the first few years here, I would try patiently to explain that I did not have any ties to this particular tradition, and that since I didn't know it, it couldn't possibly apply to me. For most of the years since, I've just avoided talking about the menu for this particular day off. Today, however, I posted as my Facebook status: "So glad I did not grow up with that pork and sauerkraut on New Year's thing so I don't have to pass it on! Happy New Year! Bring on the surf and turf!" (Have I mentioned that I can't stand sauerkraut??)
What a response! Most people, as usual, had some variation of "if you'd only try mine, you'd like it!" And while lemon pepper or garlic and hot peppers do sound as though they would improve the stuff, I'm still not sold. The one comment about leaving out the juniper berries may have come closer to the issue, but still.
Before I go on, I should probably say that I am of Polish/Eastern European and Irish descent. Kraut is not completely foreign to me. I've known, from a very young age, that I would have starved at an even younger age had I been raised in the Old Country, based on those foods I was introduced to. Boiled food makes me hungry within an hour (except for pasta, which makes me hungry in 2 hours. Chinese food fills me for hours; sometimes days) and I just can't do kraut. Kielbasa and pierogies, on the other hand, I could eat, and is still one of my favorite meals, provided the pierogies are filled with potatoes and cheese, not kraut. We used to tell the boys that if they were not good, Santa would put a can of sauerkraut in their stockings. Seriously, that's how I feel about the stuff.
In college, the dining hall was on a 10-day schedule, and in the rotation was Reuben sandwiches and hermit cookies. The only day to get the hermits was the day with the Rubens. Those hermits were good. As a result, I decided I could like Reuben for the sake of the cookies. And they weren't bad, despite being made with pumpernickel, corned beef and kraut--none of which I liked. At all. I thought maybe it was the combination of all things together, or the hermits as a reward. Or the chocolate milk. Whatever it was, it got to where I actually looked forward to Reuben day.
Until the day I realized that Reuben night always found me feeling rather sick; wicked cramps, and a terrible grinding in my belly. My beloved lunch was turning on me, I thought, and then it occurred to me that until I started eating sauerkraut, I didn't have that problem. By Christmas, I had given them up, and didn't have the semi-weekly nausea.
You can say all you want that it was probably the bread. Or the meat. Or it could also have been the cookies. But I know, deep inside, that it was the cursed kraut. It's just icky. And how could that possibly mean good luck to me? Anyone who wants to can have it for their dinner on January 1. I'll stick with what I know will make me happy. And won't stink up my kitchen. This year, steak with buerre d'maitre, and all the fixin's. Oh, it was good!
And shrimp cocktail. It's tradition.
I grew up with no particular New Year's Day traditions, other than perhaps finishing my thank you notes before school started up again. My grandparents would come for dinner, but holiday dinners were always something different, and usually something we'd never had before (or again after, for that matter). [When I was a little older, possibly my early teens, I remember Gramma Katie meeting me at the door on New Year's Day, and telling me not to come in. When she saw the confusion on my face, she explained that it was good luck for the first visitor of the year to be male, so I would have to wait until Dad or my brother to walk through the door first. Since then, I have tried to more sneakily incorporate this tradition.] It wasn't until I met my husband that I started to experience the concept of "traditional" foods on holidays and other special occasions. Since then, we have developed our own food traditions, particularly on Christmas Eve.
The other day, while grocery shopping for the week, we modified Jonathan's menu to have steak on New Year's Day with Mom. After getting the steaks, chicken and some bacon from the butcher, I turned to Guy and asked if we should get some shrimp, too. I didn't think anything of it, other than it makes a nice appetizer when dinner's not quite ready. I found out later that when one of the boys asked why we'd gotten shrimp (it wasn't on the menu, after all, and we tend to be sticklers there), he said that it was because I'd remembered that it was traditional for his family to have shrimp on New Year's Day. When I heard the explanation, I admitted that had nothing to do with it, but I will try to remember to include it in the future, since it clearly means more to him than either of us had realized.
What does all this have to do with sauerkraut? Well, I can't stand the stuff. We live in an area of the country that is steeped in Germanic tradition, and apparently that New Resident Handbook that we seemed to have misplaced when we relocated from a totally different area of the country includes the fact that here, if you want to survive the year, you must have pork and sauerkraut on New Year's Day for good luck. For the first few years here, I would try patiently to explain that I did not have any ties to this particular tradition, and that since I didn't know it, it couldn't possibly apply to me. For most of the years since, I've just avoided talking about the menu for this particular day off. Today, however, I posted as my Facebook status: "So glad I did not grow up with that pork and sauerkraut on New Year's thing so I don't have to pass it on! Happy New Year! Bring on the surf and turf!" (Have I mentioned that I can't stand sauerkraut??)
What a response! Most people, as usual, had some variation of "if you'd only try mine, you'd like it!" And while lemon pepper or garlic and hot peppers do sound as though they would improve the stuff, I'm still not sold. The one comment about leaving out the juniper berries may have come closer to the issue, but still.
Before I go on, I should probably say that I am of Polish/Eastern European and Irish descent. Kraut is not completely foreign to me. I've known, from a very young age, that I would have starved at an even younger age had I been raised in the Old Country, based on those foods I was introduced to. Boiled food makes me hungry within an hour (except for pasta, which makes me hungry in 2 hours. Chinese food fills me for hours; sometimes days) and I just can't do kraut. Kielbasa and pierogies, on the other hand, I could eat, and is still one of my favorite meals, provided the pierogies are filled with potatoes and cheese, not kraut. We used to tell the boys that if they were not good, Santa would put a can of sauerkraut in their stockings. Seriously, that's how I feel about the stuff.
In college, the dining hall was on a 10-day schedule, and in the rotation was Reuben sandwiches and hermit cookies. The only day to get the hermits was the day with the Rubens. Those hermits were good. As a result, I decided I could like Reuben for the sake of the cookies. And they weren't bad, despite being made with pumpernickel, corned beef and kraut--none of which I liked. At all. I thought maybe it was the combination of all things together, or the hermits as a reward. Or the chocolate milk. Whatever it was, it got to where I actually looked forward to Reuben day.
Until the day I realized that Reuben night always found me feeling rather sick; wicked cramps, and a terrible grinding in my belly. My beloved lunch was turning on me, I thought, and then it occurred to me that until I started eating sauerkraut, I didn't have that problem. By Christmas, I had given them up, and didn't have the semi-weekly nausea.
You can say all you want that it was probably the bread. Or the meat. Or it could also have been the cookies. But I know, deep inside, that it was the cursed kraut. It's just icky. And how could that possibly mean good luck to me? Anyone who wants to can have it for their dinner on January 1. I'll stick with what I know will make me happy. And won't stink up my kitchen. This year, steak with buerre d'maitre, and all the fixin's. Oh, it was good!
And shrimp cocktail. It's tradition.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
happy new year
January 1, 2012
I don't make New Year's resolutions.
That's not to say that I am against self-improvement, or new beginnings, or any of those things. Or that I shy away from them. Rather, I prefer to make life changing decisions when I am in the middle of my living, instead of in that gloriously lazy time between Christmas and New Year's Day. During that week, whether we have travelled for the holidays or not, there is far less for me to think about and do than at any other time during the year. The preparations for Christmas are finished; there's no school schedule to work around; practice schedules are modified or non-existent. The only obligations I really have are self-imposed, and as a naturally lazy person, are admittedly easy, if they exist at all.
I do take a little of that time to think about how I'd like to see the coming year shape up. There are things I'd like to accomplish, and dreams I'd like to see come true, but I know myself, and if I make promises to change my life while I'm being all fat and lazy, I will only disappoint myself. Instead, I wait a while. Besides, as soon as Christmas wrappings are cleaned up, I need to start thinking about finding just the right thing for my husband for our January anniversary. , and then I like to take some time to get excited about my birthday in February. (Looking forward like that gets me through the darktime of winter, which takes a toll on me!)
After my birthday, during that month of many birthdays, but not much else, I start to think about what I want to promise myself. In the years when I've made fitness goals, that's worked very well for me, as most of the 'Resolution Runners' have given up their treadmills and weight machines by then, leaving room for those who have stronger resolve, or more concrete goals. (There is, after all, a great difference between those who make a resolution to "get more exercise" and those who set a goal to "lose x# of pounds," "run x miles a week," or "fit into this again." The latter are far better company at the gym, and more successful, from what I've seen.)
And when I make the promises, I only make three at the most. Otherwise, how can I remember what it is I wanted to work on? Having fewer goals makes it easier for me to adjust them as needed, too, instead of abandoning an idea when it gets tough, or if it becomes clear that I've set my sights too high or too low than is reasonable. I want to challenge myself, but sometimes one year is not enough time to accomplish a change. Last February, I decided to pare down my stash of fabric. I was starting to get discouraged by about May, when I had not sewn anything at all, and decided I would need to re-evaluate: should I just dispose of smaller pieces? Drop them in the Community Aid box? Hold on to them some more and worry more about the larger pieces? As I gave myself time to consider this, I found a great book, One Yard Wonders, which gave me some fantastic ideas! I passed the late spring, summer, and into the Christmas season whipping up one small project after another. When my dryer was broken during a damp week in the summer, I even made a shirt to wear to work the next day so I could wait to hang clothes on the line--and then made a duplicate for a friend because she liked it so much! My stash is still pretty large, but getting more manageable. And it's become a habit...
Making these changes a habit is the ultimate goal for me, and that's the biggest reason I keep the list small. I can't make one thing a habit if I'm always thinking about all the other things on my list. As a result, my list also tends to have goals that are either very related, or so unrelated so as not to seem to belong together. It's my system, and it works for me. That's what matters.
It's inevitable, though, someone will ask what resolutions I've made. Depending on who asks, my answer varies from the honest to goodness truth about why I haven't made any, to a simple, "None," to the ironic: "To care less," (referring to a joke between me and my friend, Beth, that we sometimes wish we stressed more over the dumb little things like chipped nail polish so we wouldn't stress so much about big stuff, like jobs and bills) or "To bathe more" (referring to the fact that I would really like to soak in the tub and read for hours at a time on a daily basis, even though that's far from practical). I don't ask others. Anyone who shares with me, and asks for my support with them, will get it, but unless they are shared with me voluntarily, I don't see where it's my business. I do share my goals with others when I need to, but only with those whose support I can count on.
As always, I'm working on me; hoping to improve who I am as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, employee, neighbor, stranger. And along the way, I hope to help improve our home, our community, our school, and in some small way, our world. Currently, one scrap of fabric at a time.....
I don't make New Year's resolutions.
That's not to say that I am against self-improvement, or new beginnings, or any of those things. Or that I shy away from them. Rather, I prefer to make life changing decisions when I am in the middle of my living, instead of in that gloriously lazy time between Christmas and New Year's Day. During that week, whether we have travelled for the holidays or not, there is far less for me to think about and do than at any other time during the year. The preparations for Christmas are finished; there's no school schedule to work around; practice schedules are modified or non-existent. The only obligations I really have are self-imposed, and as a naturally lazy person, are admittedly easy, if they exist at all.
I do take a little of that time to think about how I'd like to see the coming year shape up. There are things I'd like to accomplish, and dreams I'd like to see come true, but I know myself, and if I make promises to change my life while I'm being all fat and lazy, I will only disappoint myself. Instead, I wait a while. Besides, as soon as Christmas wrappings are cleaned up, I need to start thinking about finding just the right thing for my husband for our January anniversary. , and then I like to take some time to get excited about my birthday in February. (Looking forward like that gets me through the darktime of winter, which takes a toll on me!)
After my birthday, during that month of many birthdays, but not much else, I start to think about what I want to promise myself. In the years when I've made fitness goals, that's worked very well for me, as most of the 'Resolution Runners' have given up their treadmills and weight machines by then, leaving room for those who have stronger resolve, or more concrete goals. (There is, after all, a great difference between those who make a resolution to "get more exercise" and those who set a goal to "lose x# of pounds," "run x miles a week," or "fit into this again." The latter are far better company at the gym, and more successful, from what I've seen.)
And when I make the promises, I only make three at the most. Otherwise, how can I remember what it is I wanted to work on? Having fewer goals makes it easier for me to adjust them as needed, too, instead of abandoning an idea when it gets tough, or if it becomes clear that I've set my sights too high or too low than is reasonable. I want to challenge myself, but sometimes one year is not enough time to accomplish a change. Last February, I decided to pare down my stash of fabric. I was starting to get discouraged by about May, when I had not sewn anything at all, and decided I would need to re-evaluate: should I just dispose of smaller pieces? Drop them in the Community Aid box? Hold on to them some more and worry more about the larger pieces? As I gave myself time to consider this, I found a great book, One Yard Wonders, which gave me some fantastic ideas! I passed the late spring, summer, and into the Christmas season whipping up one small project after another. When my dryer was broken during a damp week in the summer, I even made a shirt to wear to work the next day so I could wait to hang clothes on the line--and then made a duplicate for a friend because she liked it so much! My stash is still pretty large, but getting more manageable. And it's become a habit...
Making these changes a habit is the ultimate goal for me, and that's the biggest reason I keep the list small. I can't make one thing a habit if I'm always thinking about all the other things on my list. As a result, my list also tends to have goals that are either very related, or so unrelated so as not to seem to belong together. It's my system, and it works for me. That's what matters.
It's inevitable, though, someone will ask what resolutions I've made. Depending on who asks, my answer varies from the honest to goodness truth about why I haven't made any, to a simple, "None," to the ironic: "To care less," (referring to a joke between me and my friend, Beth, that we sometimes wish we stressed more over the dumb little things like chipped nail polish so we wouldn't stress so much about big stuff, like jobs and bills) or "To bathe more" (referring to the fact that I would really like to soak in the tub and read for hours at a time on a daily basis, even though that's far from practical). I don't ask others. Anyone who shares with me, and asks for my support with them, will get it, but unless they are shared with me voluntarily, I don't see where it's my business. I do share my goals with others when I need to, but only with those whose support I can count on.
As always, I'm working on me; hoping to improve who I am as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, employee, neighbor, stranger. And along the way, I hope to help improve our home, our community, our school, and in some small way, our world. Currently, one scrap of fabric at a time.....
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