I have long held the belief that if an ideology, philosophy or religion only works in the proverbial ivory tower, if it doesn't work in ordinary life, then I'm not interested in it.  There are weaknesses to this perspective, and in the process of holding this belief I've made my life incredibly ordinary.  Then railed against the constraints I walked into.  Enter Karen Maezen Miller's Hand Wash Cold, the best case scenario of an ordinary life. 

In this succinct little book I am shown that ordinary life is indeed where I live out my beliefs, my spirituality, my dreams every day.  There is no better place and time, no other place and time, to be me.  This is where I practice again and again who I want to be and who I really am.  In this drudge and minutia I do the good work of keeping life alive.  I make a safe place for myself, my son, my relationships to other people and the world at large.  Safe in the sense of true, of seen and heard, of real. 

In its best sense an ordinary life is one of attention.  These days I'm learning a lot about attention.  I'm relearning how to give attention to my self.  I'm drawn and challenged to be present and give good attention to my son.  And as I root myself in these things, I am called also to give attention to my community and the world.  I think that is where some of my more visible or public dreams will come true. 
 
Nearly twenty years ago, in college, I was warned that I had the potential to be a great writer in the field of sociology but that I needed to get over my issues.  I balked.  Unable to receive the advice I retreated further into my issues and made a plain ordinary life of a day job and my family.  The dream of writing bobbed into view from time to time over the years, but it seemed beyond the range of my ordinary life.  Now I think back on those clumsy years and recall lessons about attention - to coworkers, my family, my own interests.  Those are not lost years.  And maybe, just maybe, the dream of writing is still ahead on my path, and a place and time where I will be able to share my attention further.

I'm a newcomer to Glennon Doyle Melton and her blog Momastery.  A friend on Facebook shared one of her blog posts and it resonated for me.  Her book,Carry On, Warrior, is essentially a collection from the blog, with a few new pieces added as well.  I expect it's a great place to start catching up on who Glennon is and what Momastery is all about.

Here's what stays with me from this book - Glennon is good company for this work of family and life.  I'm not certain that a book is the best medium for her style of writing but her perspective, humor, and faith are welcomed.  Her commitment to being open and kind encourages me, nudges me, to be live an open and kind life too.  She holds a Christian faith that allows for her own discernment and discovery.  She seems not to be solely bound to the rules and mores of religious authority.  I appreciate that.

This is probably my favorite quote from the book:
I learned that in these disasters, all we can do is tell our In Case of Emergencies that their grief is real, and if it lasts forever, then we will grieve with them forever.
As far as I was able to tell during those two years, there was nothing else worth saying. It was not going to be all right, ever. Everything doesn’t happen for a decent reason. I was Sister’s In Case of Emergency and I couldn’t fix her emergency. I couldn’t do anything at all except feed her, hold her when she cried, pray angry prayers, keep showing up, and hope that time and my home and presence would offer healing.

I learned the truth of this approach to grief & comfort in the early days (years?) grieving the loss of my father.  I was comforted most by the friends who came over to just be with us.  And those well intended platitudes about the better place that dad was in or that it all happens for a reason just landed clanking and empty in my ears and on my heart.  I remember in particular that my beloved Miss G was able to fly home from college for a few days and hang out with our family.  We did ordinary things, like clean the kitchen from all the food that people kept bringing us.  We did these things together, in good company.

In the years since dad's passing, I've been near for other friends and their grief.  I hope that I've practiced what I've felt to be true.  I hope that I've given more time to showing up, bearing witness, living as good company, and grieving with them than the other things.

Life offers, holds, brings, is, a lot of grief.  Both from the blatant disasters and the subtle disintegrations.  I'm still grieving the birth of a child I didn't plan on, even though he's become the son I love dearly and fiercely.  I'm grieving all the advantages and opportunities that I've thrown away.  I'm grieving the independence I had a single child-free woman.  I grieve lost friendships and old lovers.  I think the same kinds of comfort apply to all of these kinds of grief.  It's the comfort of time and good company of friends who are just with us through it, who just keep showing up with us.

These days of job and motherhood are often lonely for me.  It's difficult to coordinate schedules to see people, once I get beyond the difficulty of reaching out in the first place.  So I sometimes grieve alone, which feels incomplete somehow, like maybe grief needs a witness to be truly met and healed.  Sometimes I stuff the grief or put it on hold.  And sometimes I find comfort in a book that comes alongside me like a friend would and says, "Yeah, me too."  For me, Carry On, Warrior is one of those books.  

Full review coming soon!
This book gave me a lot to work with... and continue working with.  I'm hoping that trying to post a review of it will get me back into the text and sort of pick up where I left off - in absorbing what it means and incorporating it into my life.

Check out these chapter titles:
• Gracious Mystery, Ever Greater, Ever Nearer
• The Crucified God of Compassion
• Liberating God of Life
• God Acting Womanish
• God Who Breaks Chains
• Accompanying God of Fiesta
• Generous God of the Religions
• Creator Spirit in the Evolving World
• Trinity: The Living God of Love

A well-crafted coming of age story that intimates an homage to J.D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey.  

I read this book for the first time in August 2007 and am rereading it now.  I missed the characters, the irreverent & loving flavor of the book, and the unique perspective into the life & death of Christ.  Plus the narrator, Maeve, is so real - she's passionate, imperfect, engaging, committed, raw, fun, funny...  I want to be (a little bit more) like her.  I"m also enjoying rediscovering the book, picking up on different elements or specific quotes that are standing out for me in a new way.

Here's the review I wrote the first time I read the book:

I've just read Elizabeth Cunningham's The Passion of Mary Magdalen and I recommend it gleefully. In this fun, insightful, challenging, thoughtful, bittersweet & salty novel she reveals Christian and Pagan and Jewish as one whole, shows us the gospels freshly, and stirs our desires. At least, she did for me.

Cunningham navigates the lofty terrain with the grace of one who knows where she is and where she is leading us. Her writing is confident, clear, grounded, and always in motion. There are lots of opportunities to turn away - I confess I nearly put the book down in the first section after finding it to be just a period piece romance novel. But even then the character of Maeve Rhaud (aka Mary Magdalen), in Cunningham's prose, intimates an invitation to something more satisfying. And where she leads, into material long espoused and explained by synods and theologies and Sunday morning sermons, is new and you want to explore it for yourself.