When we accept that we are not in control of the bigger picture and just take care of our end of the bargain, which is to live every day in alignment with our soul, now that's a big game changer. ~~Back to Happy
This past weekend my family gathered to celebrate my Mom’s birthday. It was fun. After Dad sang the first “happy”, determining the key, I chimed in with my own “happy”, a third up, followed by my baby brother who completed the chord. We sang our family’s traditional five part harmony rendition, full-out and with gusto. Mom blew out the candle, making her 79th birthday wishes.
Next we played a little improv game in honor of the birthday girl and her very long and full life. No rules, we were to just add as we felt so moved to the phrase “Grammy is…” or “Mom is…” or “Sonia is…” My niece started out with “Grammy is back rubs and foot rubs by the fire.” Everyone added their sentiments. Some were sweet and sentimental, some funny, some referenced memories and experiences and as we got going, we got more specific and so many memories popped up for us of times spent with our wife, mother, grandmother, mother-in-law. We laughed a lot. We reminisced a lot. We were grateful for this woman who had cared so well and nurtured us all.
This trip down memory lane led to a conversation about what to do with all of the photos we have stored. Also, what to do about the photos we no longer print, those that are on our phones, in our computers, on Facebook and Instagram. Should we find ways to save them for posterity or is what we are doing enough?
I like, strike that - love to be organized, and I am not gonna lie, thinking about this caused the OCD in me to rise right on up to the surface. We have probably thousands of photos in our storage room crammed into see-through plastic bins. Each of my children has their own storage chest for their most important memories.There are also photo albums from childhood, from theatre work I have done, from our wedding and more. My husband seems to be able to live with this dis-order. Me, not so much.
When Meghan, our six year old daughter died in 1991 I remember wishing I had more photos of her. She was in kindergarten when she passed and the school had just taken the Spring photos. Not really liking her photo, I bought the economy pack with just a few pictures. Once we gave them to family, there were only a couple left for us. Looking back, I regret having been cheap. I wish I had bought the most expensive package with magnets, mugs and whatever else was available with her picture. Bad decision on my part but one I had to live with. Consequently, from that point on I bought the fattest, most expensive packages of school portraits and I save every photo with a reverence that borders on hoarding. I just can’t bring myself to let any of them go.
So when my sister posed this question yesterday I got to thinking about it. I went downstairs to the storage room and reached for a random pile of photos, took them upstairs to my bedroom and laid them out on the carpet. It was quiet and I was alone so I spoke aloud a prayer over the photos. I closed my eyes and got still for a few moments. When I opened my eyes, the piles of photos lay there waiting.
I began to organize them. I spread them out and looked at each one. There were black and white photos taken by my grandfather Bo, an accomplished photographer who was never without a camera.There were baby photos, elementary school photos, wedding photos, photos of me with friends from high school and college, photos of my children; all three of them.
As I attempted to create my own version of order with the photos a sudden revelation came to me. I was dividing and organizing the photos into before Meghan’s death, my time with my two girls and, after Meghan’s death, my time with Caroline and Bobby, our son who was born not long after. The arrangement of the photos clearly delineated these periods of my life. They also revealed to me that there was still healing left to be done. My photo organizing was now becoming a sacred task.
Because I want to be whole and fully human on this Earth for the rest of the time I am here, I knew I needed to spend some time reflecting on my life and grieving process. I write about such a reflection process in my journal Gratitude, Grace and God Things available on Amazon. It’s a method of coming to new understandings of circumstances and how God is always working in our lives, even when we might not feel a trace of holy presence. As I worked my way through a reflection, asking for guidance and illumination, I looked down at the photos again.
Soon I was rearranging the photos as tears welled in my eyes. I saw the whole of my life to this point right there on my bedroom carpet. I was a happy baby, reclining back on a blanket, a bottle in my mouth, an awkward lanky frizzy haired teenager. I saw myself as a college student, all full of confidence and excitement for what was yet to come. I was a bride and a daughter of two awesome parents. And then I was a Mom of one, Meghan, who gave me that first real inkling of what loving another with a whole heart was about. Then came Caroline and I was a Mom of two, full heart for sure and so grateful for her health and spunky spirit. There was a short period when Caroline was an only child. Funny, I didn’t grab any photos of that time, that sad sad period. I do have them - somewhere in one of those plastic bins. Then Bobby was born and the family changed again. As I looked at the photos that reflected the new phase, I could feel the joy that overlapped the grief.
I began mixing the photos and disorganizing them. I could see that this life, this complicated life, is like one big photo collage encompassing joy, pain, fear, boredom, despair and so on, to varying degrees throughout our time here. Smiling faces tell lies, as the song goes.
I learned from my photo organizing that life is disorganized. We might have pictures scattered about and stored away here, there, heck maybe everywhere. It’s OK. Life’s not always neat and tidy.
As I sat on the floor with my photo collage in front of me, In my mind I heard clearly the words “…Lo I am with you always.” That I can live with.
When we accept that we are not in control of the bigger picture and just take care of our end of the bargain, which is to live every day in alignment with our soul, now that's a big game changer. ~~Back to Happy
This past weekend my family gathered to celebrate my Mom’s birthday. It was fun. After Dad sang the first “happy”, determining the key, I chimed in with my own “happy”, a third up, followed by my baby brother who completed the chord. We sang our family’s traditional five part harmony rendition, full-out and with gusto. Mom blew out the candle, making her 79th birthday wishes.Next we played a little improv game in honor of the birthday girl and her very long and full life. No rules, we were to just add as we felt so moved to the phrase “Grammy is…” or “Mom is…” or “Sonia is…” My niece started out with “Grammy is back rubs and foot rubs by the fire.” Everyone added their sentiments. Some were sweet and sentimental, some funny, some referenced memories and experiences and as we got going, we got more specific and so many memories popped up for us of times spent with our wife, mother, grandmother, mother-in-law. We laughed a lot. We reminisced a lot. We were grateful for this woman who had cared so well and nurtured us all.
This trip down memory lane led to a conversation about what to do with all of the photos we have stored. Also, what to do about the photos we no longer print, those that are on our phones, in our computers, on Facebook and Instagram. Should we find ways to save them for posterity or is what we are doing enough?
I like, strike that - love to be organized, and I am not gonna lie, thinking about this caused the OCD in me to rise right on up to the surface. We have probably thousands of photos in our storage room crammed into see-through plastic bins. Each of my children has their own storage chest for their most important memories.There are also photo albums from childhood, from theatre work I have done, from our wedding and more. My husband seems to be able to live with this dis-order. Me, not so much.
When Meghan, our six year old daughter died in 1991 I remember wishing I had more photos of her. She was in kindergarten when she passed and the school had just taken the Spring photos. Not really liking her photo, I bought the economy pack with just a few pictures. Once we gave them to family, there were only a couple left for us. Looking back, I regret having been cheap. I wish I had bought the most expensive package with magnets, mugs and whatever else was available with her picture. Bad decision on my part but one I had to live with. Consequently, from that point on I bought the fattest, most expensive packages of school portraits and I save every photo with a reverence that borders on hoarding. I just can’t bring myself to let any of them go.
So when my sister posed this question yesterday I got to thinking about it. I went downstairs to the storage room and reached for a random pile of photos, took them upstairs to my bedroom and laid them out on the carpet. It was quiet and I was alone so I spoke aloud a prayer over the photos. I closed my eyes and got still for a few moments. When I opened my eyes, the piles of photos lay there waiting.
I began to organize them. I spread them out and looked at each one. There were black and white photos taken by my grandfather Bo, an accomplished photographer who was never without a camera.There were baby photos, elementary school photos, wedding photos, photos of me with friends from high school and college, photos of my children; all three of them.
As I attempted to create my own version of order with the photos a sudden revelation came to me. I was dividing and organizing the photos into before Meghan’s death, my time with my two girls and, after Meghan’s death, my time with Caroline and Bobby, our son who was born not long after. The arrangement of the photos clearly delineated these periods of my life. They also revealed to me that there was still healing left to be done. My photo organizing was now becoming a sacred task.
Soon I was rearranging the photos as tears welled in my eyes. I saw the whole of my life to this point right there on my bedroom carpet. I was a happy baby, reclining back on a blanket, a bottle in my mouth, an awkward lanky frizzy haired teenager. I saw myself as a college student, all full of confidence and excitement for what was yet to come. I was a bride and a daughter of two awesome parents. And then I was a Mom of one, Meghan, who gave me that first real inkling of what loving another with a whole heart was about. Then came Caroline and I was a Mom of two, full heart for sure and so grateful for her health and spunky spirit. There was a short period when Caroline was an only child. Funny, I didn’t grab any photos of that time, that sad sad period. I do have them - somewhere in one of those plastic bins. Then Bobby was born and the family changed again. As I looked at the photos that reflected the new phase, I could feel the joy that overlapped the grief.
I began mixing the photos and disorganizing them. I could see that this life, this complicated life, is like one big photo collage encompassing joy, pain, fear, boredom, despair and so on, to varying degrees throughout our time here. Smiling faces tell lies, as the song goes.
I learned from my photo organizing that life is disorganized. We might have pictures scattered about and stored away here, there, heck maybe everywhere. It’s OK. Life’s not always neat and tidy.
Connie Bowman is an actress, author of the book Back to Happy and host of the podcast Happy Healthy You! Join us on our Facebook page for podcasts, more info about living a whole life in mind body and spirit and even special offers like podcast sponsor Blue Planet Eyewear offering 20% off purchases with Code: Connie20. Click here for their site.
