Living a Catholic Life in the Modern World
The Anchoress never fails to provide something worth watching. This is fantastic. Give Taylor Mali a watch and tell me what you think.
I am bumping this back up in light of a fantastic post at Woman Honor Thyself. You know, the post just was like so cool…
Dancers — Edgar Degas
**Update**
The Anchoress has a wonderful bit on this topic and a charming video which she describes as, “a sweetly evocative scene of the joys of anticipation to which we – in our era of immediate gratification – no longer allow ourselves.”
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The most important moment of your life is happening right now. I think it can be a sign of the Holy Spirit moving in God’s people when many of us start thinking about the same thing. Or it could just be that we all talk to each other and hear and read what each other are saying and start to repeat the same things. But in this case I like the more super-natural explanation. The most important moment of your whole life is now, because is the only moment you can effect. That past is done, though it may have consequences that we have to deal with now. And the future isn’t here yet, though we probably will have some plans to make for it. But all in all we live in the flow of time, we live in the moment.
No matter how much we plan, how much we reflect, none of that is as important as how we live the moment we are in. Being intentionally and fully engaged in what we are doing give the moments of our lives meaning. Allowing ourselves to be distracted from the present by juggling the hectic pace of modern life with the real needs of ourselves and those in our lives robs us, not just of our peace, but of the quality of life that God intends His children to experience. Everything we do can be impacted by a lack of intention or made more meaningful when done with intention.
I have been spending a good deal of time thinking about the whole idea of intentionally living in each moment lately. I find that it makes me a better person, a better mother, a better wife, a better friend. But it is hard to do. It is almost stupefying difficult at times to focus on where I am and what I am doing without feeling pressed by all those many, many things on my “to do” list.
Yesterday my daughter Hannah had her end of the year ballet performance (I didn’t get pictures, but you can see some of the classes here). Six and seven year-old girls were dressed in white tulle tutus and their black leotards, pink tights and shoes. Their hair was up and decorated with ribbons and little flowers. Their dancing was a combination of the joy of having mastered some of their steps and the intense concentration in parts where they were less certain.
I remembered back to my own days of studying ballet. How it was not just a matter of training the body but the mind had to be fully engaged — evaluating and adjusting and correcting each position and step, listening to the music, staying on beat, anticipating the next move as it effected the current one. The heart and soul became part of the music and turned what was otherwise nothing but an aerobic set of motions into art.
These little girls, there before their parents, siblings and friends, sharing with the most important people in the world the moment they were living most fully. That is what I want to capture more in my life everyday, intensely, fully and intentionally living every moment God sees fit to bless me with.
This week’s edition of the Simply Lovely Fairs is being hosted by Sarah at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering.
Lotto Lorenzo, Madonna of the Rosary
This is the time of year where I am so eager to get back outside that spending time indoors seems almost a penance. Fortunately for me this week looks like it will end up being sun kissed and warm. One of our plans for the week (weather permitting) is to make a trip over to the The National Sanctuary of Our Sorrowful Mother known around here as “The Grotto”.
The Grotto is a beautiful garden of quiet and peace sat in urban Portland, Oregon. One of the treasures of the Grotto is a Rosary garden. This garden contains a path that wonders through the grounds, around some water features with the three traditional sets of mysteries (Joyful, Sorrowful and Glorious) represented, artfully rendered in (I believe bronze) relief work.
One of the things I find ever so interesting about the Rosary is the way it is so personal. I remember hearing a talk by Scott Hahn several years ago where he was speaking about the Church in Ephesus, how Mary live there for some time “Look there is Jesus mother, Mary.” I found it just an amazing thought.
What would you ask her? What would you say if you suddenly had the opportunity to meet the woman who lived so close to your God the one who gave birth to the Incarnation, who nursed Him, who was there at His first miracle and His last breath? What an astounding thing that would be. And it is, and we can speak and ask and learn from Mary. The Catholic understanding of death allows for there to be a connection to those who have died before us. The communion of saints doesn’t end at the grave.
The Rosary takes us there, through scripture and through prayer we see Christ through His mother’s eyes. We see him from the human perspective as a human saw him. But not just any human, the first one to say, “Yes” to him.
Francisco de Zurbarán, Madonna and Child
This week the Simply Lovely Fairs are featuring Simply Lovely Windows. You can find links to many other articles about this topic at Paula’s Blog.
I dwell in Possibility–
A fairer House than Prose–
More numerous of Windows–
Superior–for Doors–Of Chambers as the Cedars–
Impregnate of Eye–
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky–Of Visitors–the fairest
For Occupation–This–
The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise–Emily Dickinson
I attended a conference for Catholic Women several years ago where there was a speaker who’s talk was about decorating a Catholic home. There were two things that I walked away with that have stuck with me ever since. The first was the question “would a visitor to your home know you are Catholic just by looking around?” and the second thought was something more vague about your kitchen sink and window being an altar.
I have to admit that my “modern woman ears” hear the words “kitchen sink” and “altar” in the same sentence and the feminists alarm bells start sounding. There is something oppressively patriarchal about the idea that your sink is some sort of altar isn’t there? How could doing the dishes have anything to do with religion unless it was in some sort of “keeping women barefoot and pregnant and in the kitchen”? But then I come to my senses and realize that I really, really like that idea, mostly because I have seen it implemented so well.
My friend Michelle is a wonderful Irish-Catholic woman, mother to nine children with her first grandchild on the way. She is beautiful, a mix of wit and moxie, full of love and joy. Her kitchen window was the first time I have seen an “altar” window. Though I don’t think she would call it that. In fact she called it something like “the whole solar system in my kitchen window” she would declare this while gesticulating expressively then go on to explain the amazing array of sun catchers and glass beads strung across the window, each one catching the light and in its own way special and little items on the sill each one with some tale. All the planets were there each one sparkling. Her children could tell you about them too. It had become a family story something that unified them, educational in a way and entertaining. But it was more. All creation lived in my friend’s noisy happy home. There was joy hidden in the corners and sorrows swept under the carpets and it was all there all the time. The solar system in the window was just one typical little thing. It was something that sprung organically from Michelle’s brain that became something fantastic. It served the same purpose as all our Church’s stain-glassed windows do: it beautifully illustrated Gods creation and made a tiny little kitchen into something whimsical and lovely.
When they moved and had to sell the house one of the things their realtor had told them was that the solar system had to come down. Apparently people looking to buy houses are not as interested in one if it has an eclectic collection of glass and string hanging in the window. It had too much character, was too eccentric, not really normal. Life in Michelle’s house wasn’t typical. Like so many things that God puts His hand into, it was something splendid, but certainly not marketable, and definitely not for everyone.
It takes a certain amount of insanity to be a person of faith to start with. While faith is the most logical reaction to a supernatural experience, I suspect many people are very afraid of God fearing either he is real or he is not, and deeply uncomfortable with either option. So for safety they pull the curtains shut and lock the shutters least the tiniest bit of unexpected supernatural joy slip in. I fear that many more simply feel it is best not to think about it all too much and turn on the TV and close the curtain to prevent glare on the screen. To be alive in faith is to fling the windows full open and let the sun come in and maybe even be like Pollyanna and string a few prisms across the window just for the added rainbows.
So many of my daily tasks center around the kitchen sink, all the cooking and cleaning that can become such drudgery if it is not done with a well motivated heart is often centered around the sink. Making this area lovely, having it reflect our faith to help bring our reflections back to God is a very sensible step in helping stay focused on not just doing the daily, needed tasks of living but living our vocation through those daily tasks. And that is the genius of the kitchen-window as an altar.
The Great Wave off Kanagawa, Katsushika Hokusai
Frugality, it is sweeping the nation like some sort of wave or something. I laughed when I heard this on NPR yesterday. Featured on the Your Money segment was Natalie McNeal, who’s blog is The Frugalista Flies: The frugal side of fabulous. I haven’t really checked it out. I am not, and really have no pretensions to being, “fabulous”. Since I don’t do manicures or club-nights to start with I am not about to give them up. But I still love the idea of the blog. Especially for single women I think there is a lot of pressure to be “in” and to have and do all those things that everyone else is doing.
One thing Natalie said yesterday was that letting your family and friends know you are tightening the budget will help you stay on the wagon. It is true. In fact I will go one further and say, “Your girlfirends are probably shuddering over their Visa statements too. If you say, ‘Hey, I am cutting back on spending let’s go to the free concert in the park instead of the club this weekend?’ you might find them grateful.”
One other thing she mentioned was acountablity and how blogging about her budgetting adventures helped her stay on track. I completely agree with that, which is one reason I started my 40 Trash Bag Challenge. Just knowing that people who read my blog will see the progress (or lack there of) with my de-cluttering efforts is a huge incentive to keep going with it.
10 When one finds a worthy wife, her value is far beyond pearls. 11 Her husband, entrusting his heart to her, has an unfailing prize. 12 She brings him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. Proverb 31
I find it sad in Ms Bennetts article where she says what she really thinks about her husband. I couldn’t do it justice so I will give you a long quote:
And yet everyone acts as if Jeremy deserves some kind of medal just for making a run to the supermarket. No one has ever suggested that I’m a heroine for doing the things every mother is expected to do. I admit that my husband helps out more than many men, but here’s another news flash: It isn’t because he’s such a fabulously enlightened being. Left to his own devices, he would doubtless park himself in front of the TV like some sitcom male-chauvinist couch potato while I did all the work. The reason Jeremy “helps” as much as he does (an offensive terminology that itself suggests who’s really being held responsible) is simple: He doesn’t have a choice.
From the beginning of our relationship, I made it very clear that I wasn’t going to be any husband’s unpaid servant. If Jeremy wanted to be—and stay—married to me, let alone have kids, he couldn’t stick me with all the boring, mundane stuff nobody wants to do. We were going to share the work, or we were going to forget the whole deal.Unlike my first husband, who announced after our wedding that he didn’t like the way the French laundry did his shirts and he now expected me, the Wife, to wash and iron all of them, Jeremy recognized both the righteousness of the principle involved and the intransigence of the woman he’d married, and proceeded to pitch in.
I rather like Aristotle’s “On a Good Wife“.
Therefore not only when her husband is in prosperity and good report must she be in agreement with him, and to render him the service he wills, but also in times of adversity. If, through sickness or fault of judgement, his good fortune fails, then must she show her quality, encouraging him ever with words of cheer and yielding him obedience in all fitting ways—only let her do nothing base or unworthy. Let her refrain from all complaint, nor charge him with the wrong, but rather attribute everything of this kind to sickness or ignorance or accidental errors.
Now of course the whole work is hopelessly sexist and all that but the above passage if rendered to fit more with today’s norms has a bit of really good advice. It is easy to be kind and loving to your husband when everything is good, when the world looks at him and smiles, when he is successful and healthy. But sometimes men fail. They loose their jobs, they have problems, they fall ill. Then is when the marriage vows become a buttress against the world. When he has tripped and needs a hand, when the world has crushed him down that is when the good wife’s character shows. When she hides his shame from the world, when she builds him up instead of tearing him down, when she never speaks ill of him, she becomes his best friend, his help and his joy. That is when his heart can trust in her.
I have often found it distressing how many women come online and drag their husbands through the dirt. How often they complain about the minor little things he does. How they whine about the things he doesn’t do. Now maybe they are all sweetness and light to their husbands in real life, but I can’t imagine how heartsick these husbands would feel if they read what their wives say about them. But it isn’t just that women do this to their husbands they encourage it. It become at times a sisterly hobby of sharing all the dirt on their husbands.
My own good husband would be crushed if I said half the things about him I have seen other rattle off as though they were talking about what was for dinner or how to prune roses. It all goes back to love and motivation. When you love someone you don’t want the world to see their faults. People frequently tell me how great Kyle is because he does something or another. If the neighbor told me how great he was for going shopping the last thing I would think is “nahhhh, he only does it because I bribe him or whip him into it, I am the great one.” I wouldn’t even think “Well how come you don’t think I am great when I do all the shopping most weeks?” When someone says something about what a great guy my husband is I think “Yeah! He is a great guy.” Because he is. He doesn’t do it all, he isn’t perfect, but gosh darn it he tries and that means so much.
I can not imagine being Leslie Bennetts husband. With the insulting things she has written about him I wouldn’t at all be surprised if he decided her over-entitled-ego was too much and left to find someone who wouldn’t verbally upbraid him for the entertainment of the world. I will hold out the same hope for them that I did with Corinne Maier and her children. I hope he was in on this all along. Maybe he has a strong enough ego and is secure enough in her affection to see this article out there and be fine with it. Maybe she is hopeful that this will build up sales for her book and he encouraged the whole thing. They will open the big royalties check together and laugh at the world as we all get up in arms about what a harpy she is. She will look at him while they are getting ready for bed tonight and she will smile and tell him he is the best guy in the world and he will know she means it. I feel very sorry for him if that is not the case.
Six children and two adults make for a bit of laundry each week. Large family logistics seems to be a topic of interest to the general population. “How do you do it?”, is one of those very frequently asked questions. For the most part running a family of eight isn’t that much different than running the more common four person household — the scale isn’t so different as to make that much difference. But in laundry you can feel the difference.
For many years I have really compounded my laundry problems by simply having too many clothes. My mother-in-law made the observation when she was watching the children while I was having Josh and I actually did take the advice to heart. We just have too much in the way of clothing and linens. At some point after my mother-in-law made her pointed and on point observation I started seriously trying to assess the laundry problem. The basic situation is frustrating, broken and ridiculously time consuming. Too many clothes means more time collecting, sorting, washing, drying, ironing (or not), folding, storing and trying to find the one thing you need when you need it. It also means the laundry system is more prone catastrophic failure due to the slightest disruption. One damp washcloth in the wrong basket can lead to a not so nice discovery three days later in the middle of the summer. So something seriously has to be done.
Pegging the Problem
I realised that while I was growing up my mother had a system for doing the laundry that I had more or less followed and the problem wasn’t really the washing as much as the management. She was washing for four people and I am washing for seven usually and that breaks her system. My bottle neck is one of volume. Basically for our family laundry problem beings in the closet and dresser, maybe even the store and certainly in those very kindly and very appreciated boxes and bags of donated clothing from friends and family.
The reality is that I have a problem with my laundry and then I also have a problem with the children’s laundry and they aren’t exactly the same problem.
Once upon a time I was a clothes horse. I love buying clothing, sewing clothing, wearing clothing and I could always find an excuse to spend a little extra on good construction and fine fabrics. In fact some of my clothing from 10 years before would still in good shape. Not because it has been in storage, but because it was quality to start with. I would meticulously care for my nicer things, my silky under things were always hand washed, the dry cleaner was on a first name basis with my skirts if not myself and (despite being a natural slob) I took care of those items because I valued them.
Somewhere between having children and staying home that stopped. I am not completely sure why, but I haven’t really thought about it before today and it makes me sort of sad in a way. It feels sort of like I have given up on that part of myself and I am somehow discomforted by that realisation.
One of the first things I realised that my “fussy” stuff never got washed once I had child number four. When I was working fussy stuff got dropped off at the dry cleaner, but after a bit of time home I realised that my “dry-clean only” bag was actually a dry-cleaned-never bag and out it went. But then the few hand washed things started getting washed less and less too. They just hung around not getting washed. Little stockings and delicate slips sat accusingly silent on the dryer each time I walked into the laundry room wondering why I had given up on them. Oh, I had my reasons, I was too tired, too out of shape, pregnant, nursing, taking care of a small baby who would likely puke on me approximately 54 seconds after I put on something special… so why bother? Socks became a much higher priority.
Maybe since my youngest is two I am starting to think it would be pleasant to wear something other than t-shirts and whatever pants fit this week, or over sized sundresses that hung off my shoulders somewhat resembling a tent. I don’t know but this is an idea I will have to play around with a bit more. It is sufficient to say that, for the moment, my clothing needs some serious rethinking but this evening won’t be the time to do it. It would be nice to be at the point where my clothing is practical for my situation and station in life, but still pleasant and beautiful. I know how to work this problem, this I can tackle, but it will require some inventorying and planning.
Which is basically how I started working on the far larger problem of the children’s clothing. Once I realised that the volume of clothing we own surpasses what we need or can even deal with I had to find a way to cut down. So, being the geek I am, I started researching wardrobe planning for children on the internet. I found some good basic information on wardrobe planning, it reminded me and reinforced what I had learned in my clothing design coarse in highschool, but these weren’t what I really needed. I stumbled on a document that was a clothing list for children of various ages in foster care and then that got me thinking and I spent a little time researching the recommended clothing lists for a few boarding schools. This was mostly to give me an idea of what was sensible for a child to own. Not that I couldn’t come up with it on my own, but looking at what these various institutions recommended gave me a better and more realistic starting point for my own children’s clothing lists which I eventually made out, put into a neat little spread sheet and then went to work de-cluttering the children’s clothing.
The List
What does the typical child really need in the way of clothing? I must admit I really liked the basic, straightforward, practical and simple list of the boarding schools. They acknowledged, some through centuries of use, that children have lives that require a variety of clothing. Church and parties, shopping and museum trips, athletics, art, nature hikes and just lounging around. But they also are places where space for storage is either at a premium or essentially non existent so having too much stuff isn’t an option for anyone. So the list of what is allowed is basically limited to what is actually needed. A few were even specific enough to say that extra clothing would be sent home… they mean business apparently, but I doubt any of their charges didn’t have appropriate clothing for everyday and every activity.
So taking these lists I sat down in front of my spread sheet and thought about what my children do and what they need. We don’t have a uniform per say, but it wouldn’t be hard to say that one shirt = one uniform shirt and a study pair of jeans or slacks serves for uniform slacks. Jumpers and turtle neck sweaters take the place of uniform jumpers and uniform turtle necks and a homey sweater serves for a school uniform sweater quite nicely. Add in ballet leotards, swim suits, and dump the school blazer off the list and before long I was looking at something manageable. For the babies and toddlers I planed on five days of normal wear, a couple extra pair of sleep wear and pretty much followed the same plan.
I got to the end of this, looked at the list a felt a wee bit overwhelmed. It seemed like a lot of stuff. Ten ones-ies for a baby, four short sleeve shirts, 4 long sleeve shirts and so forth. But when I got down the the actual going through the clothing I was shocked. Even being generous and letting an extra t-shirt or two in I was basically halving the clothing the children owned for most things and in some cases I was getting rid of a lot more. Then there were a few things that we didn’t have. Christopher had way too many socks, Josh not enough, this was something I knew but hadn’t taken the time to really sort out because I was too busy digging through a ton of unmatched socks trying to find something close to what I needed.
But dumping so much of the extra made it possible not to just fit everything in the drawers, but to also store the off season things sensibly. When I got one of those sweet people in my life handing down clothing I made myself get rid of something old… and this lasted for a long while then I ended up getting about eight bags and boxes of things within about a month. The structure couldn’t hold up so now I am going through things again and getting us down to the essentials.
On to the laundry room
The system I use for the actual laundry is wonderful for us. It works, it’s simple, it makes sense. First off we invested in the most energy efficient and high capacity washer and dryer we could afford. Not a matching set, because we found that often one item of a set was rated far higher than they other, so they don’t match but after doing the research on the models available to us and within our budget we ended up with what we have. When we bought our first energy efficient washer I noticed a real drop in our electric bill. I think it paid for itself in less than two years.
We have five baskets. Four tall ones and one small one. The tall baskets sort the laundry into whites, light colors, heavy/dark colors and towels. The small basket holds the kitchen towels. This makes it easy to keep the loads sorted and to see what needs washed “right now”. Even the little kids can handle this sort of sorting system.
The Simply Lovely Fairs are back for the Spring. I am looking forward to all the wonderful ideas.
One thing that has been on my prayer list for a while now has been Tricia and Gwyneth. Gwyneth was born very premature and her mother, Tricia, has Cystic Fibrosis. Yesterday Tricia received a desperately needed double lung transplant. She is doing well so far. But I know much of the blogging world is praying for her, for the donor’s loved ones and for baby Gwyneth and her daddy Nathan.
You can read about their journey here.
I was hit by a bit of inspiration last week over at “In the Heart of My Home“. That empty box says so much: Elizabeth has been busy getting rid of stuff. I can’t help but want to follow her lead being that I am overwhelmed with stuff. So I am issuing a challenge to myself (and anyone else who might care to join in) 40 bags of stuff out the door in 8 weeks. It can be donated, tossed, handed down, recycled or otherwise disposed of, but it can’t stay here. It can be clothing, papers, toys, things of any sort, but not the usual trash.
While I was thinking on this I figured that the size of the bag is up to you (I will be using the big kitchen size). Some people have less stuff to de-junk and others have more so if you want to play along you might opt for a different size trash bag. That sounds perfectly reasonable.
I hope you join me and have fun. As often as I can I will be posting updates here on my progress.
Simply Catholic 