Author: sue boardman

Contemplations

What makes you ask?

Posted on by sue boardman

You know how you don’t know what you don’t know until you know?

I’ve been thinking about that today. The story started a while ago.

A client walked into my office one day, and asked what I knew about Feng shui.

“Um, nothing,” I replied. “What makes you ask?”

It had something to do with a major disagreement over the color of a sofa.

I was admittedly relieved when we moved on to other things.

I was also curious. I don’t tend to be fond of things I know nothing about.

So, a trip to the bookstore later, I began reading about ancient Eastern schools of Feng shui.

It has to do with space and energy and intention. Also numbers and colors and compass points. Suffice it to say that there’s a whole lot to learn.

Here’s my favorite part: According to the Feng shui gurus, it takes a great deal more energy to ignore, avoid, or sublimate the things in our worlds that aren’t working for us than it does to fix them.

It recently came to my attention that I’ve been ignoring/avoiding a few more things than might be optimal for my health and creativity.

Thus, some intense days of sorting and releasing and rearranging and, if all goes according to plan, making some things work better.

There have been moments when I’ve felt buried under the stuff of old visions. I mean, what is a person who happily wears the same two pairs of earrings about 363 days of the year doing with heaps of earrings that used to be trendy but turned out to only make noise or get caught in favorite sweaters?

Fashionable briefcases that won’t hold my laptop, let alone my beloved sketchpads and markers?

A silver lame’ phone clutch my phone won’t fit into?

Really cool shoes that haven’t been comfortable since about 4 knee surgeries ago?

I’m tired. There’s more work to do. And, oddly enough, none of that really has much to do with the motivation for this whole project, which has more to do with keeping the dogs and me from going nuts that it does with how many purses I need to own.

Progress has been made, though.

Along with a reminder that progress is often messy.

And another reminder that this is what we might call a first world challenge.

We’re not talking survival.

We’re talking enhancement.

We’re talking energy.

Energy set free to do the things I feel called to do.

Some of which, every now and then, help other people do the things they feel called to do.

Which, ultimately, helps us all to thrive.

(Though the trash collecting folks may not be thrilled, come Monday!)

Through it all, there’s been a quote running through my head.

Have nothing in your homes which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

These words come from William Morris, ironically another author, artist, and activist, associated with the British Arts and Crafts movement.

Take a deep breath, if you’re inclined, and imagine what that might be like.

Have nothing in your homes which you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.

If we’re being really honest, we have quite a way to go at our house.

I’m delighted, though, that I have reclaimed my commitment to getting a whole lot closer than we have been.

For me it means less stress. More freedom. And actual horizontal space here and there.

I have a birthday coming up next year. One of the ones the world thinks should be earth-shattering. I’m kind of looking forward to it.

In the meantime, I’ll be working on getting closer and closer to the vision William Morris shared with the world back in the late 1800’s.

Where does that vision fit in your life?

 

 

 

 

ContemplationsGrandmothers

The Power of This Moment

Posted on by sue boardman

It is 2:22 pm on a Wednesday afternoon. In my world, it’s blog time. Usually editing. Maybe hunting for art. Fine tuning sorts of things.

Today, there is only Natalie Goldberg’s advice to writers. “Write what’s in front of your face.”

What’s in front of my face today is probably much like what’s in front of your face.

A lurking threat of tears.

The mass killing in Las Vegas. The hundreds upon hundreds wounded. The thousands dealing with trauma and grief.

The millions more of us caught somewhere between absolute shock and not.

Ditto, hurricane victims. Floods. Fires. Earthquakes.

Not to mention toxic water and global warming and starvation and war.

The innocence so many of us were raised with.

“We are Americans/educated/comfortable/insured/religious people… We are safe”.

Clearly, it’s not true. It wasn’t true then either.

It was just easier to pretend.

Easier when we didn’t carry all the stories of the whole world in our pockets.

Easier when we were not bombarded with 24/7 news.

Easier when we thought the news was true.

Today, however, our huge world is shrinking. We are neighbors with more people than ever before.

I think that’s worth remembering.

It feels terrifying in the sense that it appears to give “them” more power.

It also gives “us” more power.

You and me.

Power to choose how we spend our money and who that supports.

Power to choose how we vote.

Power to speak out.

Power to choose compassion over entitlement.

Power to do good where we can.

Power to teach love rather than fear. Tolerance rather than hate.

Power to make art and live love.

It isn’t easy. It never has been.

And, as my dear friend Henry Close would say, “If you’re not depressed some of the time, you’re not paying attention.”

All any of us can do is feel what we feel.

And do what we believe.

The only moment we have is this moment.

It’s time to teach our children well.

As is often true, Kleenex may be required.

 

ContemplationsGrandmothers

I missed the equinox!

Posted on by sue boardman

 

I missed the Autumnal Equinox this year. I was in Florida, still trying to get my friend busted out of intensive care, which is no place to know what light and dark are doing.

Today was the official first day of fall at our house.

Date brunch!

Our home away from home, The Corner Pub. Just in time to get a table on the patio.

It was 70 degrees, with the brilliant blue sky that only happens at this time of year, spot on at 12:30 pm.

A favorite springy rocker outdoor chair.

Baskets of grilled chicken wings, hot, fresh and delicious.

A mellow Chardonnay.

A sweet doodle-ish service dog who wanted to be friends. Especially with the pocket in my denim vest where the dog treats live, just for events like this.

A bit more practice than I would have liked, sending love to the yellow jackets flitting around the table. It’s a growing edge for me. And a reminder that it’s Epi-pen season again.

A few quiet minutes to plan the winter garden, plot on the weeds, and get everybody on board with the next steps in my soup extravaganza.

Then, a huge freight train trundling by. It reminded me of Taylor when she was little, waving at a similar train in the same place.

And then I saw it! A shipping container bearing the swirly signature of an unknown grafiti artist…”Bernie” in bright red, white, and blue paint.

While two little train fans cried because there was no caboose.

Good times, now and then…

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Contemplations

My Favorite Kitchen “Gadget”

Posted on by sue boardman

Last night, I dreamed about soup.

There’s a reason for that and we’ll get there in a few minutes. For this morning, though, I fixed my first cup of lemon tea and pulled a quart of mixed pork and chicken broth (Brodo misto, if you’re feeling Italian!) and a quart of “veggies and meat for soup” from the freezer for lunch.

This particular lunch plan, however, began somewhere “in the way back machine”.

Years and years ago, at an outlet mall in north Georgia, I bought a stock pot. A massive stock pot. Stainless steel. The gallons-upon-gallons size. Complete with a spigot at the bottom so you can drain the broth off  without having to lift the whole thing when it’s full.

It is, without a doubt, my most prized kitchen “gadget”. And it just got even better.

It seems my friend, who is recovering from a major brain aneurysm, needs soup.

Let the record show that I made a couple of  gallons while I was in Florida. Now, according to a phone call last evening, we need more.

I’m honored. And a little blown away.

I’ve been making soup for quite a while. Good soup that starts with really good bone broth. It’s an oddly creative process for me. Alchemical, even.

I love the scent of simmering broth in the house.

I love the process of honoring the beings who feed us by using all the random bits to make food for as many meals as possible.

And, in this moment, I have a sense of coming full circle. Of why I’ve been learning broth for so long.

Today, calls to local farmers and artisanal butchers.

Freezer inventory.

Farmers Market lists.

I have three varieties in mind.

We need a lot of healing.

Onions and garlic. A bunch of both. Fresh bay leaves and thyme. As many veg as possible.

Roast chicken carcasses, plus necks and feet and other healing parts.

Halibut broth imported from the west coast, because I’m still learning this one. Delicious and healing.

Years ago, I bought a magic wand in a mystical sort of store in Black Mountain, NC. It’s a useful coaching tool but it doesn’t seem to make soup.

Somehow, I never imagined that this would be my particular magic.

It seems to be me. A gift.

And yet, not just mine.

Each pot of my broth is midwifed by sustainable local farmers. People who believe we can feed ourselves and our neighbors, and support the planet.

I still remember the day I bought my first pasture raised local chicken, standing in a parking lot behind an anonymous sort of box truck, maybe 10 years or so ago. Complete with a hug from the farmer!

It was kind of a scrawny little thing…no growth hormones there!

And, compared to the supermarket variety, it was pretty expensive. I decided to see how far I could make that chicken go.

When I was growing up, a whole chicken was one meal for our family of four. Sadly, necks, hearts, gizzards, and most of the bones ended up in the trash.

My experimental farm chicken wound up being the protein in 13 entre’ servings of delicious, clean food before I decided it was ok to quit counting and just be amazed.

Most of that was possible because of a stock pot.

I was hooked!

I’ve had many teachers along the way. I’ve even become one of the teachers!

My third book, Let’s Boil Bones…Grammy’s guide to bone broth and other yummy things! is available in Kindle books, with the paperback due out this fall.

For today, a bowl of leftover soup. Broth. A bit of pulled pork from a local event. Good, southern-style green beans. Some cabbage and a few tiny Bunapi mushrooms. Roasted cauliflower saved from dinner last night. All served over a bowl of finely shredded romaine lettuce, which is a great way to add healthy bitter greens and texture to soup. (Arugula, collards, turnip greens, etc. all work, too.) Spritz with a bit of fresh lemon juice and finish with good sea salt as desired. A pinch of crushed red pepper flakes would not be amiss.

Love, hope, and healing in a bowl!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Contemplations

A Spot of Comfort

Posted on by sue boardman

I’ve made it home from a flashback week as an ICU/med-surg nurse! There is much good news for my friend, and a few hurdles left to go. It is possible that she will go home tomorrow after an injury she was not expected to survive. There are no words to express how grateful I am for all your concern and prayers and healing vibes of many sorts.

We cried and laughed (both good stress relievers) and wore ourselves to a frazzle.

After Bill picked me up at the airport, the first two orders of business were food and sleep, both of which were in short supply last week.

I’m glad to report that there are beginning to be signs of bones in my ankles again!

My beloved chair, which is a huge improvement over the hospital variety, has welcomed me home. My knees and back are muttering rather than screaming.

I learned a lot.

And, I’ll be thrilled to see the beasties when they arrive home from Camp tomorrow. Suspect we’ll all need naps! And that reminds me that taking some food out of the freezer for them would be a very clever idea!

There’s homemade, healing, comforting soup for supper tonight. (And a freezer full at my friend’s house.)

We had a visitor in Florida on Friday morning. A deer. A young buck. Peering through the screens on the lanai at the tired women, huddled over coffee and telling stories just inside.

My friends who study spirit animals would say that the message from this visitor is to be compassionate with others and ourselves.

It’s a message that I think we all need.

My friend, in particular, is going to need compassion for herself in the coming days when “normal” is harder than she’s used to and driving is not allowed.

In the same way, we all need compassion for ourselves, which is often much harder than having compassion for others.

A few weeks ago I posted this fabulous article on my Facebook pages. Just in case you didn’t see it, or want a reminder, here’s a link to the Oprah network’s recent piece from Elizabeth Gilbert about caring for the small, soft animal within us all.

 

Elizabeth Gilbert: Practical Ways To Practice Self-Care
Elizabeth Gilbert explains how to care for the small, frightened creature within.

Tuesday, it’s back to business as usual.

For this moment, a message from the fuzzy guy in the picture above.

There is no place we can go where love and grace do not go with us.

All these years later, that particular bit of assurance is still the absolute best thing about trying to learn to read Hebrew!

 

ContemplationsGrandmothers

Stepping in the River

Posted on by sue boardman

I’ve been much reminded, in these last days, of the old saying that we can never step in the same river twice.

In many ways, I am surrounded by people I’ve known most of my life, camped out in an intensive care unit, doing things I’ve done nearly forever.

Prayer. Listening. Straightening sheets. Talking with doctors. Feeding people.

It is a river old and deep for me.

In other ways, I have joined the cast of Steel Magnolias!

Women, and a couple of very kind men, many of us grandparents, doing what needs to get done, each in our own way and yet all together.

Another river old and deep, yet also wider, with room for more travelers.

It’s a filter thing, really.

Just as the metaphorical water moves, leaving the river ever new, our perceptions keep changing because we see and hear and feel through our ever-increasing experiences, letting new things in and, sometimes, clearing a few  more out.

My friend is doing better each day, which is the biggest part of what’s getting through my filters at the moment.

I’m glad to mostly filter out the feedback from swollen feet and restless nights and the predictable consequences of a couple of things I probably shouldn’t have eaten.

Today, though, it’s time to listen at least a bit to those messages, too. I’m pretty tired.

It’s feet up for me until the “night shift” starts at the hospital. Well, mostly!

We still need laundry and food and more frozen water!

Not to mention time for healing energy and prayer.

For my friend, certainly.

For the people of Mexico in the face of this latest earthquake.

For the people in the path of more hurricanes.

For the “guy in the red hat” I met at the hospital. His wife did not survive an injury similar to my friend’s. Last night and today, six people scattered across the country received life saving organ donations from a mom in her 30’s.

These stories, and so many others, changing the river we all share. Which is, perhaps, a thought we need to cling to more and more consciously.

That, and hope.

 

Contemplations

Comfort!

Posted on by sue boardman

This is a close up photo of one of my first quilts. It was a class project when I was a very new quilter, trying hard to follow the directions to something beautiful.

The quilt and I have been many miles since it was born.

Faded and crinkled in the vintage-y way I love, it feels like it was just dried in the sun.

With the repeating patterns and nearly straight seams, it is somehow a vivid reminder of the fact that there is order even in the midst of what feels like chaos.

It is comfort, both visual and kinesthetic.

I set this quilt free, years ago, as a gift for a friend who needed a great deal of comfort in those days.

I found it again yesterday when I arrived in Florida where my same friend needs another dose of comfort.

She’s doing really well. All things considered.

There’s a lot to consider!

For now, we’re focused on better.

And popsicles. And clean hair. And a break from T.E.D. hose!

All of which seem like huge miracles, here among a diverse tribe of women who love her, each in our own way trying to bring comfort.

I’m not sure whether it’s irony or providence that has me reading, for maybe the fourth time, Sue Monk Kidd’s The Secret Life of Bees, just now. (The book really is even better than the movie!)

I don’t think I ever quite realized, in just this way, how much this story is about comfort in the midst of our often messy life journeys.

A place to be. Time to get ready for what happens next. Sweet tea. And folks to walk with us to whatever our own version of the wailing wall might be, whenever we need to go there.

Tomorrow…soup. And gratitude.