On Moving, Stuff, Home, and Gratitude

As I was riding the bus home from work the other day, I realized that I am only just now starting to feel that Chicago is making an imprint on my identity. Gillian and I moved our lives, our stuff, and our cat here two and a half years ago. We have always loved our home here, feeling that our neighborhood, for all of it’s challenges, was a good fit for us. I can now claim my place in this city; I am a Chicagoan and I love my home here.

During my time in California, I had a pretty transient life. I lived all over the Bay Area, finally adopting Oakland as my home. All of the various moves in the fifteen years I was there, though I hated the process, made me keep my possessions to a relative minimum. When you move, you have the occasion more frequently to cull your life of stuff.

Mind you, we have our fair share of stuff, and I have been reminded each time we move how much books weigh. But I am finding that, with some effort, Gillian and I have both become mindful about the stuff that we bring home, even as we stay in one place for a time. We’re not perfect, but we’ve made a commitment to ourselves and each other to downsize and make sure that everything we own has important meaning and usefulness.

As a member of this mall culture, I am just as prone as anyone to covet what others have, to feel deprived when I don’t have the latest gadget.  The other day, Gillian and I went to the grocery store and filled up our cart with all kinds of things that we were convinced we needed and wanted. At the end of the trip around the store, we took inventory of what we had collected, and decided to put several items back that we didn’t really need. We still came home with enough for several meals to get us through the following couple of weeks, and though we didn’t leave with that bottle of wine or that jar of honey, we don’t feel the least bit deprived.

Our new rule of thumb when it comes to stuff: When we bring something home, something else must go. I want to own stuff, I do not want stuff to own me. I’m not there yet, but the daily practice of mindfulness is helping me to live more presently with gratitude for what I have.

Real Marriage

Intimacy is what makes a marriage, not a ceremony, not a piece of paper from the state. — Kathleen Norris

I came across this quote on Twitter the other day, and something resonated with me. It is not the first time I have heard this sentiment, and I think it’s absolutely right. The only thing required to make a marriage is a relationship between two people who know in their hearts that they are committed to each other as life partners. Their thoughts, words, and deeds are what enable intimacy, love, commitment, and family to flourish.

By this definition, my wife and I married to each other; in the eyes of the law and most of the world we are virtual strangers to each other. Despite that and the lack of a piece of paper that would make our marriage legal, my wife and I, and our loved ones know that we are married.

And while I believe this, my wedding day six years ago is an important moment in our past that has a presence in our daily lives now.  The ceremony and celebration of our relationship, and the certificate that all of our guests signed as witnesses, while symbolic, is a bonding moment for us. While long since past, being able to reach back to the moment of that day and the love and care of our family has helped us get through some very difficult moments.

Same sex couples everywhere know all too well that marriage doesn’t require legal documents or ceremony. However, the support and respect that these offer strengthens relationships, families, and communities.

A good week for marriage equality, but struggles still continue

I woke up this morning and found the following three items in my Twitter feed:

It is gratifying to see that the judiciary all over the world is recognizing marriage equality as a civil rights issue. It’s a bumpy ride for LGBT rights right now, and I think that this is an era of gains and losses for LGBT civil rights as religious conservatives foist their internal struggle with bigotry on the rest of us. As a result, religious institutions like the Catholic Church are making unfortunate decisions like ending the foster care program in Washington DC because the Archdiocese there doesn’t want to recognize same-sex marriages.

Meanwhile, Ugandans live in fear for their lives while anti-gay legislation is debated in that country, and in Malawi police have been conducting an anti-gay sweep. Stories like this demonstrate the danger that LGBT folks endure just living their lives day to day.

It is truly astonishing to witness the disconnect of so-called “pro-life” Christian activists who continue to prioritize their own fear and bigotry over protecting human lives that are threatened by violence, hunger, and poverty.

2010: Resolve and Determination

In the tradition of New Year holiday reflection, I am reorganizing my goals and creating a plan to achieve them. As I embrace the opportunity to join the popular conversation about resolutions, I remember that every day presents the opportunity to make changes, that the New Year is not the only time to find resolve.

Gillian and I were discussing how we want to start this year with a plan of cleaning up our joint finances, and although we are beginning this new plan in January, she would rather establish long term goals than make resolutions. Indeed, many people don’t succeed in attaining their resolutions, so I wonder what besides the inspiration of a New Year and a clean slate will make one’s resolve stick.

In 2010, I resolve to work slowly day by day on achievable goals, and to enjoy the journey without obsessing about the destination. Meanwhile, here is a working list of things I would like to be mindful of in my daily plans.

  • Writing
  • Reading
  • Food
  • Rest
  • Yoga
  • Spirit
  • Connections
  • Knitting
  • Responsibility
  • Courage
  • Community
  • Forgiveness
  • Sustainability
  • Gratitude
  • Generosity
  • Breath
  • Always Love

Namaste. Amen.

2009 Passages

I keep a page on this blog for Inspiring Lives where I post links to obituaries for people whom I admire. In a past professional life, one of my assignments was to read obituaries, and it was a task I began to enjoy. I find them to be beautiful tributes written with care and love. Over the years I have read many that truly are inspiring, so much so that from time to time I would cut one out of the paper and tack it too the cork board above my desk. Friends have observed that they feel sad when the read the obits, but I also find joy and celebration in the words.

I am no longer required to read the obits, but I have kept the habit. I subscribe to a few obituary blogs, and I will share my favorites on Facebook and Twitter, and of course track them here.

2009 has marked many passings, and honestly I haven’t been able to keep up. Today, as I begin a New Years resolution to write and blog more, I am updating my page and remembering all of the wonderful people who we lost in 2009 who made life on this earth a little sweeter. Even in their passing we can be happy that they lived, and honor them with acknowledgement and celebration.

This year, these death hit close to home. I shed tears as I watched the telecasts of the memorials for Ted Kennedy and Michael Jackson, sharing in the popular grief of the rest of the Nation as we witnessed the end of an era. My family lost our beloved uncle, Ted Larson, in February, and on Little Christmas Eve Lula Maria Walker Smith, my wife’s mother, passed away after a long illness.

The nine-year anniversary of my mother’s death is coming up on January 10th. The profundity of her passing, continues to teach me that death is a gift, if you are open to to receiving it as such.

For every life that I cite here, I am grateful. Namaste.

Here are some of the collected tributes for 2009: