Mental Defrag (computer off week reflections)

Feb22

“Come into my lap and sit in the center of your soul. Drink the living waters of memory and give birth to yourself. What you unearth with stun you. You will paint the walls of this cave in thanksgiving.” –Meinrad Craighead

A couple of weeks have already passed since my annual computer-off retreat. I wrote down a bunch of notes/reflections during my time off and was planning to do a series of posts about it. However, life keeps rolling along, so perhaps the moment to do so has already passed. Essentially, I wanted to take this digital sabbatical for two reasons:

To “defrag” my brain. That is what this felt like for me. It wasn’t/isn’t that technology is “bad,” but that I think differently with its ever-present tug in my life. It splinters my attention/thoughts/time and I felt the need to regroup and reconnect with myself. I felt a strong need to redefine my relationship with technology and my use of it.
To take a break from the digital noise all around me and experience quiet/internal solitude. I feel like too much time online contributes to a hoppy, jumpy, revved up, skipping, shallow thought-process and a brain filled with other people’s thoughts/ideas rather than my own.

Three things my period of mental defragmentation revealed:

It isn’t really technology use that fragments my attention/time/energy most of the time, it is actually my kids! (Notably, toddler-age person. Regardless of whether computer is on or off, I spend a lot of the day waiting for naptime!)
The story I tell myself about all the things I “really want to do” not getting done because I’m spending “too much time” writing blog posts or on Facebook or whatever is really just that, a story I tell myself, it is not backed up by real life.
I get more done and feel much less scattered and fragmented if I single-task while using technology–i.e. when grading papers, JUST grade papers, rather than putting a picture on Facebook, checking email, and then popping back to the papers and then back away again. This is common sense, but it took enforcement to realize the difference it really makes. It is also extremely easy to fall immediately back into the same jumpy pattern.

I wrote a TON of notes in my journal about this experience, which was funny because I hadn’t written in that particular journal since May of 2011 and that probably truly is related to tech use.

I started to dream vividly again once I stopped going to bed with my ipad.

I did a lot of things with my week off…and…one of my big realizations was that these are all things I probably would have done anyway! I kept doing things I really like and I didn’t do things I imagine or claim I want to do, because…ahem…I either don’t really want to do them OR they take more time/energy than I can give in a life with kids the age of my own (regardless of whether my cell phone is on or off).

But, I did paint something, which I have been claiming to want to do. And, I learned that I’m not very good at it and don’t really want to do any more! 😉

I attempted to recover from the failure of Operation Pug (perhaps more about this someday) by buying beanie baby pugs for all the kids.

I played with clay a LOT, both polymer clay…

And regular clay…

I wallowed in books which I always feel “denied” from having a chance to do!

I got ready for and taught another birth workshop (which I would have done anyway)…

I made homemade tapioca pudding with the kids (and, as I said, I made it the week before my sabbatical and the week after too, so it isn’t really about technology interfering after all!)

I took the kids to see a play at the theater (again, would have done it anyway) and couldn’t resist another picture of the cool Millennial Arch sculpture in front of the building.

I spent a lot of time down in the woods on the priestess rocks (on January first of this year I started what I plan to continue as a year-long practice of visiting these rocks every year and taking at least one picture. I haven’t missed a day yet, so again, technology not interfering with my true “want to do’s”).

Zander made me a super-awesome sculpture that I will write more about in a minute…

And I made more super awesome sculptures myself (and have continued to do so, even with the computer back on).

I did not sew on my penny rug, or map out big charts about my life, or keep up with my daily journal, or draw, or clean the house, or take up new hobbies, or make masks, or do loads of school with the boys, or listen to all the saved up guided meditations and recordings that I can’t resist downloading when they come as free links in interesting newsletters, which are all things I tell myself I would do if I didn’t “waste” time online. I did start doing yoga again and walking outside with Mark again at night (both things I’ve continued since this retreat).

A couple of other things I noticed:

The “itch” or the “twitch” to check email/open Facebook is very frequent. If I sit with it for a minute, it passes.
A lot of my technology use that makes me feel like I have too much to do is very whim-based and kind of ADHDish. If I sit with it a minute, the false urgency of needing to act or respond also passes.
It is peaceful and still to disconnect. It feels like a mental relief and a rest for my brain. The need to “defrag” is real. However, I don’t need a whole week to do this, just bits of time during each day and a minimum of one full day each week.
I always have “too much to do,” technology or not. It is kind of how I’m built. I am packed with ideas and plans and goals all the time, so are my kids, so are my parents. I think it is genetic. Also, this makes us interesting people (albeit perhaps not Zen enough for some as well as for my imaginary conception of how my life “should” be).
I have a persistent imaginary scenario of being Playful Mom making projects and singing songs with my kids all day and I’m really more of Parallel Play Mom in which I like to work on my things while my kids work on theirs, whether the things I’m working on are online or offline. Maybe it is time to stop apologizing about that.
Time is a kind of blobby, amorphous thing that pretty much gets “used up” regardless of what I do with it. I just always want to be conscious of how I’m using it up and whether it is in harmony with my values, goals, and purpose.

Introverted Mama

Feb11

This post is excerpted from one written in response to the current Patheos Book Club exploration of the book Quiet : The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking. I previously wrote a post for my blog about Quiet and then built on that post for my book club post. The previous post is here and my new additions are below…

I really enjoy being around people and I’m friendly and social, but on the flip side I feel very drained after people contact and need time alone to recharge. I find I am restored by being alone and drained by being with others (even though I like them!), hence I would self-label as an “extroverted-introvert,” “ambivert,” or social introvert. By definition it isn’t that extroverts “like people” and introverts don’t like people, it is a difference between whether they are fueled or drained by people contact. However, I’ve observed that people seem to make an assumption that being introverted means someone is “shy” or “doesn’t like people,” so that’s why I would choose extroverted-introvert for myself. I recently took a week-long retreat from Facebook, email, social media, and reading articles online. I did this primarily to silence the digital noise in my life (see some good explorations of why you, too, may be an introvert in this article: “Noise” Got You Down? Maybe You’re an Introvert).

Once I starting thinking about this book, Quiet, I was amazed at the connections I uncovered with how my introverted personality is expressed during pregnancy, labor, and birth. This was actually the very first time I’ve made the connection between my own birthing preferences and my introvert nature, that finds such renewal in solitude and craves silence.

Labyrinth of pregnancy pre-birth sculpture.

Pregnancy—towards the end of pregnancy I feel an inward call. I start wanting to quit things, to be alone, to “nest,” to create art, to journal, and to sink into myself. Nothing sounds better to me in late pregnancy than sitting in the sunlight with my hands on my belly, breathing, and being alone with my baby and my thoughts.

Labor—during my first pregnancy, the very first thing on my birth plan was “no extraneous noise.” It was really essential to me to labor without beeping, chattering, or questions. This birth room silence, in fact, was SO essential that it was one of my only requests for my second labor—no unnecessary talking. I can talk during labor, I talk a lot in fact, but I don’t want people around me talking. I want silence. My epiphany as I thought about the Quiet book was that this is why. I’m an Introverted Mama. I know many women are very nourished by the presence of supportive and loving family members and friends during their labors. They express wanting to be encircled by support and companionship. For me, I like to cut my birth attendants down to only the very most essential companions (and they’d better be quiet!). And, this leads me to…

Birth—after my first birth, in which I’d had the loving and supportive accompaniment of my husband, my mother, my best friend, my doula, a midwife, and a doctor, one of my most potent longings for my second birth was as few people present as possible. And, indeed, for this second labor I had my husband alone present for the first hour of a train ride of a two-hour labor, my mother and toddler son present for about 30 minutes and my midwife who walked in as my son’s head was crowning. For my last birth, I wanted even fewer companions, spending the bulk of the labor alone with my husband and later calling in my mother. When my daughter was actually born, I was the sole witness to her emergence as she slid forth into my grateful hands in one swift spontaneous birth reflex just as my mother stepped into another room and my husband was moving from behind me around to the front of my body. Shortly after her birth, my doula arrived to provide amazing postpartum care and my midwife came shortly after that to assess blood loss and to help with the placenta. This was the perfect companionship arrangement for an Introverted Mama. My older children were pretty disappointed not to be present, but I need solitude in birth and I heeded that call.

Postpartum—I am firmly convinced of the critical importance of planning for a postpartum “nesting” time or babymoon, in which parents can cocoon privately with their new baby in the solitude of their own home. I only now came to realize that perhaps this is Introverted Mama talking! I’ve spoken to other women who say that getting out and seeing people was really important during their own postpartum time. I’ve maintained for ages that this is probably culture talking (“get back to ‘normal,’ prove how capable of a mother you are,” etc.), and not what the tender new motherbaby most needs, but perhaps my preference is largely a function of personality. There is nothing better for me than spending at least four weeks nested at home with my new baby and my immediate family, no long-time visitors, no phone calls, little email, and no travel, visiting, or responsibilities. Ahhhh….babymoon bliss.

Breastfeeding—in the early days, weeks, and months of breastfeeding the symbiosis of the nursing relationship is so complete that the baby becomes a part of me. A newborn does not “disturb my peace” the way toddlers are wont to do. I especially feel this interdependent connection during nighttime nursings, in which the harmony with the baby feels complete and total and a peace like little else.

Toddlerhood and Beyond—Oh dear, now is when “no time to think” starts to wear on Introverted Mama’s nerves and stamina. I’ve met some awesome mothers of large families who comment on how they, “love the chaos” of home with lots of children. “Our house is wild and crazy and full of noise and I love it,” they may be known to say. Thinking of how desperately I crave silence and solitude, sometimes with an almost physical pain and longing, I feel inadequate in comparison to these declarations. Is this too simply a function of personality? Can these chaos-thriving mamas be extroverts who gain energy from interaction with others? I find that my own dear children, my own flesh and blood and bone and sweat and tears, still feel very much like “company” in terms of the drain on my energy that I experience. Whether it is socializing with a group or friends or spending the day with my energetic, loveable, highly talkative children, I crave time alone to recollect myself and to become whole once more. I once commented to my husband that I feel most like a “real person” when I’m alone. That means that the intensiveness and unyielding commitment of parenting can be really, really hard on me emotionally. Maybe it is okay to “own” that need for quiet, even as a mother, rather than to consider it some type of failure or an indication of not being truly cut out for this motherhood gig. (See more in a past, lengthy, navel-gazing post on why I need my “two hours”.)

How do you experience (and honor) introversion in your life as a parent? Sometimes I feel like being an introvert and being a mother are not very compatible, but as I learn to respect my own needs, to speak up for myself, and to heed that call for silence and solitude, I realize it is compatible after all. My children have two introverted parents and will hopefully grow up feeling confident in the knowing that there is profound power in being quiet, in taking time to think deeply, and to respond to the call of solitude if it comes knocking at the door of their hearts.

It is only when we silence the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of the truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts.

~ K.T. Jong (via Kingfish Komment)

Tuesday Tidbits: Teeth and Teaching

Jan29

“Do not try to satisfy your vanity by teaching a great many things. Awaken people’s curiosity. It is enough to open minds; do not overload them. Put there just a spark. If there is some good inflammable stuff, it will catch fire.”
—Anatole France (in The Earth Speaks)

“A woman who writes has power, and a woman with power is feared.” —Gloria Anzaldúa, “Speaking in Tongues” (via The Girl God via Guerrilla Feminism)

Bits of the birth net:

It is old news, but this week a 2009 post from The Unnecesarean caught my eye: An OB’s Birth Plan: Obstetrician’s Disclosure Sent One Mom Running. The article describes the “doctor’s birth plan” a mother received from her medical care provider, which includes gems like this one:

“…I do not accept birth plans. Many birth plans conflict with approved modern obstetrical techniques and guidelines. I follow the guidelines of the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology which is the organization responsible for setting the standard of care in the United States. Certain organizations, under the guise of “Natural Birth” promote practices that are outdated and unsafe. You should notify me immediately, if you are enrolled in courses that encourage a specific birth plan. Conflicts should be resolved long before we approach your due date. Please note that I do not accept the Bradley Birth Plan. You may ask my office staff for our list of recommended childbirth classes…”

One of many reasons to run far away from this doctor! One of my Facebook friends made a great point though: “at least he’s honest! I think there are other doctors with similar views who might not make it clear until it’s ‘too late.'” This is true–he said it, but you know a LOT of people are thinking it/acting on it. So, that IS good that he was up front. Another mother then commented to add her own similar experience: “We went to an OB who had us sign something saying we would not have a birth plan or hire a doula. It felt so creepy to sign away all involvement in my own child’s birth – and doing so at 9 weeks felt like I was signing that I’d keep my mouth shut throughout the pregnancy, too. But gratefully, as you’re saying, it was clear early on that way this was not the OB for us. I’m sure many don’t get to find out before labor.”

Speaking of teaching and igniting sparks, it isn’t too late to register for our next Birth Skills Workshop—rapidly approaching on February 2nd! This workshop is specifically designed not to be a lecture, but is a hands-on, skills-building workshop.

Also via ScoopIt, I shared this article: Bearing the Burden of Choice: A Young Feminist’s Perspective

“Based on personal observation, choices concerning women’s reproductive health are heavily concentrated in preventative action – what are the best practices to avoid pregnancy? Consequently, prevention inspired language lends to a negative association with child bearing. It is something to prevent rather than embrace…”

She goes on to address something that I find to be a reason why sometimes birth activists have trouble connecting to the larger feminist community:

Abortion is one of those issues that seems to leak into every “women’s issue” whether initially intended or not. Needless to say, we talked about abortion to the point of exhaustion. Not to take away from the weight of abortion to the feminist cause, I began to recognize a gap in our reproductive justice discussions. I found myself asking the question:What about the women who choose the path of childbearing?…

Those women are basically why I’m here and why I do what I do. And, what has been on my mind recently is explored in my most recent post: What to tell a mother-to-be about the realities of mothering…

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?” and, “why isn’t anyone talking about this?” is a common refrain echoing in the postpartum tales of many mothers. So, why don’t we tell them? Or, what can we actually tell them? Is there a way to really do so? I kind of think there’s not…

And, connecting the teaching and the sparks and the women’s issues and the women writing having power, I also made sure to sign this petition: Vigorously support women’s rights by fully engaging in efforts to ratify the 1972 Equal Rights Amendment. This is going to be one of the discussions towards the end of my current Social Policy class (I can’t really write much about it here, but suffice to say the class is extraordinarily challenging so far and we’re only to week three). I hope no one vigorously disagrees with it or I might FREAK OUT! When I shared it on Facebook, a friend commented: “I am enraged that women’s rights are an ‘issue.‘” To which I replied: “Isn’t that the truth?! I hate that. It boggles my mind that women’s rights are considered a political issue that anyone could have a ‘position’ on. The nerve!!! ARGH. FREAK OUT, I TELL YOU”

And now, the teeth…

This post is essentially all about what I shared on Facebook apparently (might as well get some mileage out of it!). This is what I wrote yesterday:

In case anyone cares, I’m totally sick of taking my kids to the dentist! All three had appointments in Sullivan today (1.25 hour drive one way). Alaina wasn’t cooperative and is clearly traumatized from prior dental experience and we will need to go back to a pediatric dentist for her (crowns on two molars). Zander’s were good and he got two seals. Lann had two extractions (previously filled teeth) and one filling. I’m exhausted!

I still haven’t written my planned blog post about the heartbreak of tooth decay. I came home yesterday all fired up to write it, but then I had to get caught up on grading instead. But, I did take these pictures of my little pearls-wearing, skirt-sporting, curly-haired, brave little girl:

I told her I wanted to take a picture of her face and she ran away from me like this!

Two other Facebook kid updates from this week that were funny:

Alaina put a bracelet on pushed high on her arm. When she took it off, it left a red mark. She looked at the mark solemnly and said, “scar.” Poor little sugar. She said it very acceptingly. Like, yep, I’m scarred now…

And

Yesterday, my little entrepreneurs cooked up a plan to raise some money to buy a pug. They decided they should raise Dobermans and sell them…”When people see the big cage of Dobermans in our yard, we’ll just tell them, don’t worry…it’s for pugs!” Hmm. I see a couple of flaws with this plan…

Hearing this, it suddenly became clear to me how puppy mills were invented—a couple of pre-ten-year-olds (or, adults with similar critical thinking skills) hung around talking about money-making schemes…

Two!

Jan21

Bear with me as I continue with my string of personal posts. I have some super good birth-philosophy and postpartum-oriented posts planned for the coming weeks, but first I need to spend just a little more time swooning over my baby (I mean big girl!). I know I already posted about her birthday, but I since I wrote the post prior to the actual day, it didn’t include any pictures from her actual birthday:

: We had a work party on Alaina’s birthday and she helped the other women put plaster on the interior walls!

: Actually working with the work party 🙂

: Barn from grandma Carla!

: Riding scooter with her friend and pulling wagon full of toys.

: Awesome troll tea set from my aunt!

: New doll from my mom and new purple doll Ergo from me.

: A little self-conscious about all this being sung to!

: Having a tea party with the brothers!

: Aww! 🙂

One thing I noticed on her birthday was very gendered gift choices. I see this, have feminist philosophies about it, and yet still totally participate in it! This is why I will never claim that kids just “naturally” choose certain toys and are “naturally” different from the beginning, because I think it is impossible to separate out what is actually a “natural choice” and what is very actively constructed or promoted from the environment and people around you. One thing I do admit about Alaina that is very stereotypically “girl” is the obsession with changing clothes—she picks out new underwear to wear several times a day and chooses new clothes multiple times a day as well, sometimes specifically asking for something that is “pretty” or “sparkly.” This is not something that I feel like I am actively cultivating in her (because, it is frustrating, really!). I AM actively contributing to her interest in dolls, babies, and baby care stuff, because I like those things too! And, it is fun! And, I also bought dolls and baby care stuff for my boys when they were this age too (and, they too, baby wore. I didn’t buy them an expensive doll carrier though—but, I did make them a homemade mei tai and let them wear my slings with dolls in them).

Here is a very short (22 second) video of Alaina on her birthday answering the question, “how old are you?” 🙂

She’s such a joy. I can honestly say that there has not yet been a single day of her life that I haven’t marveled at and cherished her. She is annoying sometimes too and frustrating and overwhelming and I want to “get away” sometimes, but she has spent every single day of her existence being treasured, loved, and having me spend conscious moments in total appreciation of her.

And, back on topic, today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day! I read a friend’s blog post this morning and she included this favorite quote:

“Everybody can be great, because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.” –Martin Luther King, Jr.

I don’t actually use this quote in my own article, but it made me think of our “small stones” of birth activism and so in honor of the day I am re-sharing my Small Stone Birth Activism post:

While reading the book The Mother Trip by Ariel Gore, I came across this quote from civil rights activist Alice Walker: “It has become a common feeling, I believe, as we have watched our heroes failing over the years, that our own small stone of activism, which might not seem to measure up to the rugged boulders of heroism we have so admired, is a paltry offering toward the building of an edifice of hope. Many who believe this choose to withhold their offerings out of shame. This is the tragedy of our world.” Ariel adds her own thoughts to this: “Remember: as women, as mothers, we cannot not work. Put aside your ideas that your work should be something different or grander than it is. In each area of your life—in work, art, child-rearing, gardening, friendships, politics, love, and spirituality—do what you can do. That’s enough. Your small stone is enough.”

These quotes caused me to reflect on the myriad methods of “small stone” birth activism that can be engaged in as a passionate birth activist mother embroiled in a season of her life in which the needs of her own young family take precedence over “changing the world”…

via Small Stone Birth Activism | Talk Birth.

Happy Birthday, Big (little) Girl!

Jan19

Happy Second Birthday!

How can it be that TWO YEARS ago I was giving birth in my living room to my precious baby girl? Has it really been that long ago that I felt that intense, sweet relief at her living presence and the knowing that I DID IT and we were both okay?

Here’s what our world is like right now with this little treasure in it:

Can talk now. I worried a little about her speech and whether she was “ever” going to talk. She does now, though not in sentences and not with fluency. But, man, she can say all kinds of words. Like…
Says yes adorably (“jes” or “dash”/d-yes kind of)
Says things like: thank you, dude, spicy, sparkly, birthday (also poop, butt, and boob)
Says “um…” I didn’t know that started this early! And, because of our jobs, Mark and I have worked pretty hard to cull this from our own speaking, so I’m surprised she’s picking it up anyway.
Still has sour milk/yogurt baby breath. I love it!
Skip-hop-gallops to do or get things.
Seemed to call me bratty yesterday when I was whining about her not going to bed! 😦
In another “bad mom” confession, a couple of days ago she was being aggravating about going to sleep and was nursing really roughly, etc. and I was crabby at her and said, “what is wrong with you?” and she said, “Done, mama.” And, I said, “you’re done with mama?!” and she said, “JES!”
Nurses around ten times a day–is pretty rough and I’m getting pretty fed up with being manhandled and abused!
Loves having rituals and setting up candles. (Says, “ommmm” while doing so)
Remains a night owl and is routinely up til midnight.
Clearly self-identifies as one of the kids–runs to join in with everything. Will do yoga and gymnastics, carefully studying and imitating.
Tuesday hit big girl milestone in that I left her (and the boys) with a friend for 1.5 hours in between me leaving for class and Mark picking them up. First time in nongrandparental care. She did a really good job and was happy and played like one of the kids!
Rides scooter under own power, but also cackling with glee if someone else zooms her around!
Knows some colors and can count to three (or, at least two). Blue is favorite.
Has thing for “pretty” clothes and wants to change clothes, choose own outfits in dramatically different way than I’ve been used to with prior children.
Loves dolls and real babies. Loves, loves them. I may actually have to have another baby just so I can give it to her.

: I’m so glad she has nearby grandparents who dote on her precious self too!

: I already have used a similar version of this photo (the other, non-kissing one, is like my favorite picture of the year! See 1000 Words: https://talkbirth.me/2012/11/15/1000-words/)

: Likes cats!

: Is funny! And, loves brothers.

: Has a good daddy!

: Is silly!

: Sets up rituals!

: Stalks babies! This baby is her favorite baby of all. She loves him and harrasses his mother relentlessly for access to him.

: Zooms on scooter!

: Has sparkling juice at midnight as we usher in 2013!

: Steps right up and crafts “medicine bundle” for New Year’s Eve activity.

: LOVES books. Loves them. Wants many read to her every time she lays down. Best ones have dogs in them, or flaps she can lift to find stuff. Is patient enough to listen to actual words being read and not just look at pictures.

: Helps make own birthday cake!

Here’s what I wrote when she was born. And, about her birth. And, here’s what I wrote on her first birthday.

Video of first “dude” saying (plus, bonus “boob” thrown in for good measure):

I think it is officially time to stop saying I have a baby. I have a two-year little girl now!

Happy birthday, sweetness!

Holiday Pictures

Jan14

Now that the first week of January has passed, the holidays seem like a distant memory! However, I purposely took several pictures with the intention of doing a personal holiday-in-review post, since it also seems unfortunately easy to forget favorite gifts of the season. So, here are some photos from our family’s Christmas in 2012!

: I actually had a chance to spend some time dressing some of my dolls up in their holiday finery!

: Nursing Alaina while she nurses her Breast Milk Baby doll!

: New clubhouse for the kids! (this was their 2012 solstice goal and we got it done just in time!)

: Plenty of room for a punching bag in the clubhouse!

: Zander lost his first (natural) tooth during Christmas Eve dinner!

: Best. Present. Ever! My aunt gave Alaina a purse full of tiny purses–each purse had something in it like a necklace or a bracelet or a little item and she worked so hard unzipping everything and putting on her adornments!

: Feeling very pleased with a great ebay, antique find from my sister! (photobombed by Creeper hat)

: Knock, knock. A little elf is visiting her grandparents!

: My new sculpture found a home outside the front door.

: Magic expanding socks from my aunt!

: Felt lunch made by my mom!

: Awesome felt food by my mom for Alaina.

: The boys sitting on their new twist scooters and sporting Creeper hats made by my mom and zombie sock monkeys made by her friend.

: Lovely new chalice for my altar (hand thrown by my mom, the potter)

: My sister in law made this sweet unicorn for Alaina.

: Custom ordered birthstone pendant by Home Baby Crafts.

: I gave myself a sweet new “Medicine Healer” ring 🙂

: Ah, my husband is such a good present buyer 🙂 (I got a Kitchen Aid too, but didn’t take a picture of it)

: Books! Why, yes, please!

: More books!

: Outfitted with new skirt, new gloves, new necklace, and rockin twist scooter.

: Conked out on Christmas night!

“May you experience each day as a sacred gift woven around the heart of wonder”

–J. Donohue

I am a Story Woman

Dec29

“The greatest gift we can give one another is rapt attention to one another’s existence.” –Sue Ellen quoted in Sacred Circles

“Human connections are deeply nurtured in the field of shared story.” –Jean Houston

I am a strong woman, I am a story woman…

I’m busy preparing for a New Year’s Eve ritual on Monday, the first ritual like this for which we will include all family members instead of just women. As I was getting our “family fireside circle” song sheet ready, my husband asked a question about one of the lines in one of the chants…I am a strong woman, I am a story woman…

“I’m not sure about this,” he said, “what is a story woman anyway?” I wasn’t able to give him a solid answer at that moment, but guess what, I am one.

In fact, didn’t I just write earlier this week that story holds the key to the reclamation of power for women? How and why does this work?

Because of these two things:

“The one who tells the stories rules the world.” –Hopi Indian Proverb

“We feel nameless and empty when we forget our stories, leave our heroes unsung, and ignore the rites of our passage from one stage of life to another.” –Sam Keen and Anne Valley-Fox

We need to hear women’s stories. We need to hear each other into speech. We need to witness and be witnessed. We need to be heard. We need to shift the dialogue of birth and, indeed, most aspects of women’s lives into powerfully positive “what if’s” and courageous explorations of our “negative” stories. When we hear the experiences of other women, of other people, sometimes it lights something in us and we are able to go forward in a way in which we would not have done without that story…

“Once the imagination has been kindled, we begin to see choices that we had never even seen before…but just seeing that we have different options and choices rarely gives us the strength we need to exercise these options. For this we need more than imagination. We need the courage to reach beyond ourselves, extending our hands to one another…” –Robin Deen Carnes and Sally Craig

And, then, this afternoon we had an ugly, sad, overtired, family-wide meltdown about homeschooling. I don’t really want to bother reliving the agony by typing up everything that happened, because we’re all back to normal now, but it was really the same old story. Parent suddenly gets bee in bonnet that kids (who are perfectly happy at the time pursuing their own interests and living robust lives) “should” be doing something different. Kid doesn’t live up to expectations and is, in fact, so unable to perform a very simple, basic task, that questions arise in parents’ minds about kid’s mental capacities. Parents feel personally responsible and like homeschooling parent failures as well as annoyed with kid who should know this already. Brief ranting and raving ensues along with hurt feelings. Sweeping pronouncements are made about what needs to happen to transform all of our lives into properly performing homeschooling bliss.

During this time, I abruptly decided this was IT, I HAVE TO STOP BLOGGING. I cried and cried. I don’t want to quit, but, if I can’t do homeschooling properly I certainly don’t deserve to be a blogger. And, then I remembered these quotes about stories and I especially remembered this one:

“As long as women are isolated one from the other, not allowed to offer other women the most personal accounts of their lives, they will not be part of any narratives of their own…women will be staving off destiny and not inviting or inventing or controlling it.” –Carolyn Heilbrun quoted in Sacred Circles

And, also this one:

Telling our stories is one way we become more aware of just what ‘the river’ of our lives is. Listening to ourselves speak, without interruption, correction, or even flattering comments, we may truly hear, perhaps for the first time, some new meaning in a once painful, confusing situation. We may, quite suddenly, see how this even or relationship we are in relates to many others in our past. We may receive a flash of insight, a lesson long unlearned, a glimpse of understanding. And, as the quiet, focused compassion for us pervades the room, perhaps our own hearts open, even slightly, towards ourselves.

–Robin Deen Carnes & Sally Craig in Sacred Circles

And, just last night, I got a beautiful thank you note for the Mindful Mama essay that I wrote in 2008 and that was updated/published in 2011. My stories, my words, were serving as “medicine” for another woman while I was cooking dinner last night, even though I actually wrote them several years before. That is story power. I am a story woman.

Last month, I had an email chat with a friend about why we write in the first place. She’d written a blog post about her family and as I read it I was reminded of how glad I am I blog and why I don’t want to give it up. Her post was a post like that—one that will bring back a whole collection of memories that have slipped from conscious memory. At the time of our exchange, I’d been looking back at some of my own old posts and found the ones I wrote about Pinterest day and it was so much fun to re-read them, because I’d already forgotten some of the recipes we’d tried. And…that was only after like six months have passed. It will be even more fun in a couple of years 🙂 I can remember having this fear (or whatever) of forgetting even since I was a girl. I write to remember. In fact, I’d actually left a comment on a Literary Mama blog post on the subject:

I write to remember. I write to share. I write to preserve. I write to collect. I write to store. I write for myself. I write for my children. I write for others. I write for perspective. I write to play my life’s music. I write because I just can’t help it. I write to pay attention and to tell about it.

I do feel like I have to have a balance between personal memory stuff and other information/education/advocacy on this blog because I don’t want to overdose readers on the picture of my kids and make people bored. I also have probably 100 ideas for posts before I actually get to write one. If I was only blogging for myself (and my future memory) I’d make more of the shorter, personal, picture-type posts, but I start to worry “who cares” and so I put up something educational! (BUT, as it turns out, the pictures/personal/kids stuff is NOT boring to me in other people’s blogs or in going back to my own.)

As another example, a couple of weeks ago, I came across the post I’d written based on a journal entry about Alaina when she was a one month old (Memories of a One Month Old…). This is exactly why I do it and why I’m not going to stop. Because reading what I wrote that day in my journal brought that one month old treasure of a baby girl back into my arms for a few moments in vivid clarity, rather than just as a hazy, distant recollection. It isn’t that you truly forget without having written it down, but that in the reading of your old story, a powerful, stored, storied memory that you had forgotten how to access fully is reactivated.

Also a couple of weeks ago, I got a little tear in my eye when Alaina came to get me in the bedroom showing me her handful of monkeys from the “monkey jump game.” When Lann was about her age if you asked him if he was a big boy, he would answer: “I not bigger yet, I can’t reach the monkey jump game!” Well, guess what, he reached it for them that day and they were all in the living room playing while I was getting dressed…

I am a story woman.

And, I’m not quitting.

Other posts about Story:

Story Power

A Blessing…and more…

The Value of Sharing Story

The Of COURSE response…

Musings on Story, Experience, & Choice…

Taking it to the Body, Part 4: Women’s Bodies and Self-Authority

Happy Holidays!

Dec21

My effort to make a collage greeting card this year to actually mail out to my family members was thwarted by an uncooperative WalMart.com photo site that would not allow me to preview my collage (meaning I would just have to randomly accept the results!). So, I decided to make a virtual holiday greeting this year and thought I’d pair it with a companion update post about what we’ve been up to 2012 (kind of like one of those annoying holiday letters, only more annoying, because I’m not even bothering to actually send it via real mail!)

Mark:

Two big projects to report this year: First, thanks to our work party (more on this later) we have a completed greenhouse building! You can read more about the process and progress on our not-often-updated farm blog:

Second, Mark has launched a Let’s Play series of Minecraft videos on his YouTube channel, RockHoundGames. Check out his most recent video and if you or your kids are Minecraft fans make sure to become a subscriber!

Lann & Zander:

Speaking of Minecraft, the boys are big fans as well and even included a Minecraft themed picture in our family photo shoot!

The boys have changed a lot during this year. One important change is that they’ve both been taking Taekwondo classes at Vessell’s Fitness (same place my own brother and sister both used to go)! They’re really committed to it and go to class twice a week for a total of four hours.

Oblivious to the ninjas stalking us through the forest…

They also take gymnastics class which I am less impressed with because it is twice as much money for half as many classes and 1/4 as many hours, but they absolutely love it! I got some poor-quality home video recently of their cartwheeling action:

Alaina:

She is turning into a “real girl” instead of a baby! As long as she wasn’t talking, I still felt like she was my baby. Now, as she adds new words every day, I feel like I’ve got a little small girl instead of a baby. I caught her just saying a brand new word in a quick, poorly filmed video (my cell phone was plugged in to charge and it is hard to take a video when you’re tied to a wall!). For those of you who are friends with me on Facebook, there’s a much longer version of “Can You Say…” uploaded in my videos there.

“Nonnies” on the rocks is a favorite!

Molly:

I’m still teaching at Columbia College—both online and in-seat at the Fort on an every session basis and in Rolla on a twice a year or so basis. I love teaching online because it is perfect match for family life and integrates almost seamlessly into my days (as long as you don’t talk to me during paper-grading time!). I also love teaching in person because I love the face-to-face interaction as well as having the same students in multiple classes so that our relationship deepens over time. In January, I start teaching a hybrid class for the first time (half online/half in-seat). It should put me home before the kids get home from taekwondo! I’m really looking forward to that format. I’m still working (slowly!) on my D.Min degree in women’s spirituality. I’ve finished nine of my classes so far and I’m thisclose to finishing the tenth. On July 1st, I became ordained as a Priestess with Global Goddess and I’m really enjoying branching out more formally into the “women’s mysteries” and rites of passage work that I’ve been doing informally for a number of years. I was thrilled to officiate at my brother’s wedding in October and then at another wedding just last week.

On the priestess rocks in our woods and wearing my beautiful silk robe hand dyed by my friend.

Handfasting with the lovely bride and handsome groom!

Other things that happened with our family in 2012…

Alaina turned one! (weird, because now she’s about to turn two and it is still 2012! Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!)
I had a Birthday myself.
Zander turned six! (Z is Six Already!)
Mark and I celebrated our fourteenth anniversary (Marriage thoughts)
We went on a Kansas City Adventure
Lann turned nine! (Nine is Divine!)
And, we took a Grand Gulf/Mammoth Spring Mini-Vacation

We also had around 25 work parties with our amazing work party group. Being involved in this mini-community has enriched, enhanced, and changed our lives in many good ways. Our biggest project as a group was to help our friends build their straw bale house from scratch! (In 2012, we personally benefited from work party in these ways: gutters on our house, new coat of plaster on the interior living room and kitchen walls, and almost completely finishing our huge new greenhouse over the span of three work parties [see pix in Mark’s update above]). Here is a beautiful video slideshow of our friends’ straw bale house project (my dad, Tom, shows up a lot in this video because he helped on lots of other occasions other than our scheduled work party days):

This is an impressive amount of progress for less than a year!

Happy Holidays from our home to yours!

—
All photos, save the greenhouse pix, taken by the incomparable Karen of Portraits and Paws Photography.

Taking it to the body… Part 2: Embodied mindfulness, introversion, and two hours!

Dec5

“Trust yourself. Take it to the body. She always knows.”

For my meditation practice for my compassion class, I’ve been working with several things, starting with the above quote. As I explained in part 1, how often do we deny the urgings of our bodies? It seems as if mindfulness begins there.

So, I’ve decided to practice an embodied mindfulness and meditation…taking it to the body and checking in with what she knows. Consciously noticing and being aware of my body’s signals to sleep, eat, and eliminate. It is much harder than you would think for something so basic and essential for well-being and I “fail” many, many times a day, but, and this is the point: I notice as I am failing, as I am not listening. That is better than remaining unconscious, right?!

The second part of my practice is that I’m trying to make sure I feed my spirit first—going to the woods, praying, setting intentions for the day, lighting a candle and setting up some of my goddess art sculptures near me as I work, rather than letting those things languish for “when I have enough time” and “later.”

The third part of my practice is to notice my thoughts and how I think about things, bringing mindfulness to the repetitive, wheel-spinning , brain-groove making patterns of thought that I habitually engage in. I frequently feel like, “something has got to change!” or, “I need to change what I’m doing and THEN, XYZ.” In mindfulness practice, I notice that more often it isn’t what is actually happening in my life that is upsetting or stimulating the “change” urge, it is expressly how I think about things that needs to change. I have become aware of the following unhelpful brain-groove thoughts that continue to dictate my behavior, choices, feelings, and responses:

I might die

I need to be perfect

I can’t rest

I’m out of time/running out of time/there isn’t enough time

(I haven’t fixed these yet, but awareness of them is a big part of the puzzle.)

As appears to be my custom at this time of year, I had a big meltdown this weekend feeling resentful, overbooked, stressed, ragged, frustrated, blocked, irritable, etc., etc. Then, I piled on a hearty dose of self-admonishment for all those feelings and stirred in some big helpings of guilt. I blamed various things, I blamed myself, I ranted and raved about how something needs to change and I need to do something different because this just isn’t working. (most of this was actually in my own head because Mark was sleeping in the living room as he recovered from the stomach flu that swept our house this week, more on this later.) I was crabby at loved ones. I felt guilty for wanting to be alone and for feeling done with snuggling my nursling and smelling her sweet head, knowing, knowing, knowing that the time is passing and that I will miss it and yet, dang it, stop climbing all over me and ramming your hands down my shirt! I felt like I “should” be doing all kinds of things differently. Like I should be a better, nicer person and like maybe I’m choosing wrongly in my life. I wanted to just stop, to get off, to quit everything. I decided I don’t want to help anyone else anymore and I just want to take care of myself. I cried because I need my parents and Mark to help me so that I can help other people and if I just stopped trying to help anyone else, I could take care of myself/family and not need anyone to help me either. I made plans to make a big life map and ruthlessly chop things off it. I decided to embark on a massive self-care, self-improvement project for the new year. I dragged out piles of books to look through. I remembered that busy is boring , I craved time for a retreat. I exclaimed that I just want to grind my corn! I lamented my ongoing crisis of abundance. I looked up my old post about balanced living and saying ‘no’ and thought about how I’m going to say a big fat NO to everything all the time! Must be clear on priorities. Must choose well and wisely. Then, I got annoyed with myself for already having figured this stuff out before, for writing about it already, for boringly lamenting it all before, for never learning (or integrating) my life lessons, and for knowing better and yet doing it anyway.

And, then…everyone went to bed. I sat up by myself and worked on a drawing for a “make a plate.” The kids all did this at my mom’s house over the weekend as a Christmas project—you draw a design on a special piece of paper, send it in to the company, and they send it back to you as a plate. I wanted to make one too! So, I did:

I really like it. After drawing, I felt tons better. I sat alone in the living room with my computer and got my online class all caught up for the week. And, suddenly it hit me. This ugly ragged self of mine I was seeing and experiencing and hating. She was popping out because I hadn’t had my two hours all damn week! And, after I realized that, I understood that things weren’t really that bad after all. Last week was insane. I knew it in advance, but it doesn’t mean it was easier to cope with it. And, if I tuned in to myself and my body, which is really, really hard to do when you’re an introvert without your requisite two hours, I just heard the familiar cry for what I need, to just be by myself at home for some time each week. Not to quit everything, all the time, but just to have some regular, consistent still points of solitude.

This is what last week looked like for us:

Monday: Twenty papers submitted by my online students, they all need to be graded in addition to my usual weekly grades for the week. While I did my usual grades and online class prep work, no papers got graded with the time I had available. Manage to quickly write an assignment for my own class, part of which is excerpted at the beginning of this post. Scramble to town to take the kids to meet Mark. Teach class on Monday night from 5-10. Come home freaking out about the rest of the week and HOW CAN I POSSIBLY GRADE THIS MANY PAPERS WHEN I HAVE NO TIME! Maybe I’m not meant to do this, maybe three classes is too many, maybe there is just something wrong with me.

Tuesday: After doing school with the boys, laboriously make pumpkin pasties to take to the Harry Potter potluck for the last day of homeschool co-op Wednesday. Insist on all three children helping with the “fun” and get super stressed out at not being a more zen mother of awesomeness. Call my dad desperately in the afternoon requesting “tribal reinforcement” (my tribe is a good one!).

Pumpkin pasties. Awesome, or unnecessary torture?

After he takes the kids over to play at his house, manage to grade four of the papers among many other tasks. Then, take the kids and head to town for their taekwondo class and my own reiki class (why take a reiki class now when I already have so much going on? Who knows?! Crazy, remember?) Reiki class is great—totally works and I feel like such a healer! Go home and practice fab skills on Mark and boys and they are impressed. Feel buzzing with energy and hands are tingling. Stay up until 2:00 a.m, on purpose and finish grading ALL papers. Feel awesome and smug and have killer, killer headache.

Wednesday: killer headache continues. Take kids to homeschool co-op and potluck. Pumpkin pasties meet with approval. Pick up two of boys’ friends for an overnight. Fingers crossed for Alaina to nap when we get home, since I’m desperate to be alone and need to get “caught up.” She doesn’t.

Make homemade mac and cheese for dinner and it rocks. Boys and friends stay up until past midnight. I stay up and finish prepping for Friday’s class.

She actually wore bowling shoes this time! Insisted on carrying ball every time for a whole game!

Thursday: Killer headache remains (not enough sleep, I think at the time). Make quesadillas for all kids in house and barely stagger out door with them all to go to playgroup at bowling alley. Bowl a terrible 85, but have lots of fun (Alaina is adorable bowler and gets a 17 [non-bumper lane]). Belabor different post-playgroup scenarios to manage rest of day.

Mine, mine?

Brothers are not into bowling and complain nonstop and sit staring like this. I finish their games.

She’s a natural!

Send boys with friend to get pizza and go to park, while Alaina and I go to Wal-Mart to buy dinner supplies for a postpartum mama. Take dinner to new mama and listen to fab birth story and do breastfeeding help for next two hours. Kids come back from park and are sent with other friend in my van to gymnastics class. Help jump friend’s car and then go to pick up all gymnastics kids (my own boys + two). Am slightly late and they’re getting worried. Zoom to taekwondo to drop all off. Go to Panera to eat dinner and meet couple for wedding ceremony planning. Alaina finally falls asleep and nurse-sleeps throughout Panera visit. Back to get boys at 8:00 and meet other friend to deliver books she’s borrowing, plus pick up evaluation from her from recent birth workshop. Head home, dropping off boys’ friend at her house on the way. Remember LLL monthly stats are due and do them (27 helping contacts for November!), plus send overdue emails and answer help message. Catch up in online class. Collapse in recliner, hoping Alaina’s Panera snooze wasn’t an uber-late nap. She nurses more and falls asleep. Score! Mark and I start a Teen Wolf ep while she keeps nursing. Suddenly, A wakes and projectile vomits all over my body. Yikes! What’s up?! As I wash the chunks off in the shower I start to feel bad too (headache continues, FYI). At 1:30, I throw up too. Alaina throws up seven more times during night with various degrees of mess. Grateful for Mark and his clean-up skills.

Friday: Mark stays home to help, but still needs to get own work done from home. I throw up one more time and debate going to class tonight—do I go or stay?! Zander starts throwing up. My head is actually going to explode with pain. Have fever and chills. Decide not to go to class, even though it means incredible hassle with double make-up classes now (because of no class on Thanksgiving). Nap and wake at 3:00 deciding it is class or bust after all. Both options feel like dumb options. Decide to be Typhoid Molly. Take Advil, get dressed, and head for the Fort where I teach. Class is fine. I have a guest speaker and show a video about child abuse. Hope to leave early, but feel better as class goes on and get busy with student questions/discussions. Dismiss early enough to get out the back gate and take short route home.

Selecting candies.

Saturday: Work party at my mom’s house. She has good projects planned. While the men cut firewood, the women make seasoning blends using herbs and spices I ordered last week from the bulk food buying club. Alaina is fretful and clingy and nurses nonstop, even though she has to stand on a chair to do it while I mix my seasoning blends. Kids draw pictures for their plates and also make fun cracker houses. Alaina finally naps and I grade two late papers, respond to a help message, and try to catch up with my online class again. Feel bad and guilty about not helping with dinner prep and also misunderstood by others about legitimately needing to get my work done. Feel annoyed that I have to make excuses or justifications for it, feel others are annoyed with me. Eat communal turkey dinner and yummy cake. Home feeling generally distressed, unhappy, and overbooked. Am reminded that I’ve forgotten/misunderstood something again. This keeps happening. My brain is leaking. I can’t hold everything and I keep dropping balls, communicating poorly/not enough, missing things or misunderstanding things, and forgetting stuff. Wish I hadn’t had to go anywhere on the weekend. Need regroup time. Suddenly remember with a shock that today is the FoMM newsletter deadline (for contributions, not for me). Send requisite emails and consider fact that I have exactly zero contributions thus far. Lann wakes before we make it to bed and barfs turkey dinner ALL OVER bedroom floor. As Mark cleans it up, he starts to feel sick too. Is up and down during night with stomach pain and finally also vomits.

Finished houses with architects.

Lann’s house.

Sunday: I feel pretty good at start of day, but start to freak out as day progresses. Mark is down sick in recliner all day. Alaina is whiny and clingy and doesn’t stay asleep at naptime. By 2:30, I’m still in PJ’s and feeling emotionally fragile. Begin the internal monologue of self-doubt, criticism, and desire for change described above. Kids go visit my parents and I work frantically on various bits and pieces, like preparing for my class on Monday night. Feel I’m choosing wrongly and still not taking care of myself. What’s wrong with priorities?! Argh. Gnash. Suffer.

Sunday night: stay up after others are in bed. Make my drawing for my plate. Have epiphany that this is all about the two hours. I usually get two hours to myself multiple times a week. Review week and see NO two hours. No wonder I feel like crap. I need it. I really do. It’s this introversion thing. I have to be able to count on sometimes being alone. Hmm. Maybe that is all it is. Maybe I don’t really need to quit everything after all, but maybe I need to plan carefully and assertively and strongly avoid weeks like this last one. Maybe I just need to firmly, guilt-free-edly, hold some space for myself, no matter what. Mentally review week and see, DUH. That was a busy, hard week. I got barfed on. I threw up. I taught class with the flu. No wonder I feel overwhelmed, stressed, and upset. It would be weird if I didn’t feel that way. Isn’t it normal to be a little crazy when life is crazy? Remember that one crazy week doesn’t mean entire life is unraveling after all. Wonder if maybe, just maybe, I should actually feel impressed at my own capacities. Stay up “too late” and enter all my grades so that on Monday, I can do some other things that I want to do—like write blog posts—rather than work on my classes and then go teach as well.

Remember I wasn’t going to write long, boring, navel-gazing blog posts like this one anymore and consider not posting it after all…

Think of lots more things to add and remember lots of other to-dos I got done…

Notice current students have become “fans” on Facebook and really, really consider not posting after all…

Spend way too long trying to format pictures for this post and finally give up and set it to post later in the week with crappy-alignment pictures.

Copy this picture from Facebook and try really, really hard to remember it…

Deep breath. Hug self. Hug kids. Try again.

Guest Post: A Secular Sabbath

Nov18

This guest post is part of my blog break festival. The festival continues through December, so please check it out and consider submitting a post! Also, don’t forget to enter my birth jewelry giveaway.

I was happy to review Sarah’s book earlier this year and I absolutely love this guest post from her explaining how digital sabbaticals work in her own life. At our own house we have been observing “computer off day” every Sunday for a number of years. It is most excellent—amazing how much “more time” appears in my life when the digital noise is silenced for a spell. I do need to make sure I commit to having Sundays be “app off days” too, because I didn’t have those devices when I started the practice and it is very easy to trick myself into thinking it is okay to check, “just one thing” on Sunday as long as it isn’t on a computer! (Of course, these days I use my i-devices more often than my laptop anyway)

A Secular Sabbath

by Sarah Whedon

“It is one thing to race or be driven by the vicissitudes that menace life, and another thing to stand still and to embrace the presence of an eternal moment.” -Abraham Joshua Heschel in The Sabbath

I love that I had the mental space to generate the idea for this guest post while I was taking a short break from everything to do with blogging.

You see, my dreams at night had begun taking the distressing form of social media streams: Facebook, Twitter, Hootsuite, Google+, GoogleReader, email, Moodle, Skype, WordPress. (Side note: these are all web-based tools with free versions that I use regularly. There, now if you go look one up, reading about taking a break was also productive.)

I spend most of my time at home with young kids, but I also manage to volunteer for a couple of reproductive health and justice organizations, Chair an online seminary department, and manage a blog, because I can do most of it online from home using those apps.

My dreams were a warning sign, though, about how I was managing my time and mental resources. I listened, and I decided that once a week I would observe a social media Sabbath. I originally got the idea of limiting technology use once a week from Michael Pollan, whose version is about greening your lifestyle, which is also appealing.

He, of course, got the Sabbath idea from Jewish tradition, in which the day is a time to rest from work, and focus on family and holy things. Michael Pollan’s version doesn’t borrow much from the rich traditions of Jewish observance, my version isn’t exactly like Michael Pollan’s version, and if you decide to observe a secular sabbath, yours won’t be exactly like mine.

Here’s what I do: from 6:30am to 6:30pm on Fridays I’m officially off social media (in practice it’s usually a few hours longer). I don’t use any of the apps I’ve listed above, nor do I do “just one quick Google search” to look something up that I get curious about. I do use my smart phone to take pictures of my kids, navigate around town, and (gasp) talk to loved ones, because those aren’t the uses that were causing me trouble.

When I observe my version of a secular Sabbath I find that I’m more present all day Friday, and actually all the other days, too. Nobody minds that I’m offline for a day, especially because I set Friday posts to run in advance, and let people know I won’t be available. I don’t dream about social media anymore. And when I step away from the constant input of internet data, I can have my own ideas, like the idea that while Molly is trying to take a bit of a break, I can share how I take my break.

So that’s how I’ve been claiming some rest time each week for the past month or so. Do you take technology fasts or Sabbaths? How do you do it?

Sarah Whedon is Chair of the Department of Theology and Religious History at Cherry Hill Seminary and is the founding editor of Pagan Families: Resources for Pagan Pregnancy and Birth. Sarah’s teaching, research, and advocacy work center around topics of spirituality, feminism, and reproduction. She makes her home in San Francisco with her partner and their children.