The Ones Who Know

I have kids that come and go. They are 23 and 27. They don’t live here, but they come more often than when they were in college. It took me a while to get accustomed to the coming and goings. Each time, I was surprised when the tears welled up as the bags piled up by the front door. You know, that nagging ache that blankets your gut when your children take flight. Really, it’s no different than the first day of kindergarten, or the overnight middle school trip, or relinquishing the car keys, or walking up the steps of the freshman dorm and being greeted by the smell of pot wafting from the windows, or offering advice about bosses who are borderline abusive. Each time, that pit down deep tells you to grab them tight and not let go…

Don’t get onto that bus. Don’t get into the car. Don’t step foot in that office.

But you don’t. You love and respect them too much to do that. Really. But we’re the ones who know. We know what we’ve given them. We know where they’ve been. We know what they are capable of. But we don’t know where they’ll go. So we talk like we've been demoted, telling them to text us when they get there. But they know.

No Such Thing As An Empty Nest

I have changed my tune over the last few years about empty nests. The pain is unbearable at first. The empty place at the dinner table cannot possibly heal. Then it’s swell. Candlelight dinners at 9 and adult conversations. Could all this freedom be real? Now I’ve come to the conclusion that there really is no such thing as an empty nest. They come. They go.

My friend Carrie’s daughter has moved home. I can tell it’s not easy. But it’s necessary. She writes an eloquent account of the situation, asking herself whether or not she’s mom enough for this new phase of parenting.

The Ones Who Know

A few years ago, I interviewed singer, Dar Williams. The themes of her music speak to many issues that resonate with me…the environment, family. Dar has young children and wrote this song as they began their journey. She echoes the ones who really know.

The One Who Knows Dar Williams

Time it was I had a dream, and you're the dream come true. If I had the world to give, I'd give it all to you. I'll take you to the mountains; I will take you to the sea. I'll show you how this life became a miracle to me.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, When my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

All the things you treasure most will be the hardest won. I will watch you struggle long before the answers come. But I won't make it harder, I'll be there to cheer you on, I'll shine the light that guides you down the road you're walking on.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, When my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

Before the mountains call to you, before you leave this home, I want to teach your heart to trust, as I will teach my own, But sometimes I will ask the moon where it shined upon you last, And shake my head and laugh and say it all went by too fast.

You'll fly away, but take my hand until that day. So when they ask how far love goes, when my job's done you'll be the one who knows.

Discover Dar Williams’ music here.

Photo: Chris Scott Snyder

DIY Gifts For The Gym Rat On Your Holiday List

We all tend to overindulge during the holidays. Did you know that most people pack on a lasting few pounds? My scale is already creeping up. Here's the official skinny on holiday weight gain and people of a certain age: "Most people don't ever lose the pound of weight they put on during the holidays, according to a report in the New England Journal of Medicine. Since the average weight gain during adulthood is about one to two pounds a year, that means much of midlife weight gain can be explained by holiday eating."

OK, enough of that nonsense. Let's find a fun way to keep the weight off. I like to encourage my workout enthusiasts to get a wintery workout - to embrace the crisp air and fresh snow by hitting the slopes, going ice-skating or just taking a walk in the woods.

When I was growing up my dad built an ice rink in our backyard each year. One of my fondest memories is of my hockey-player dad all bundled up on snowy evenings heading for the backdoor. He would announce that he was going out to "water the rink". Here is a post called, The Home Ice Advantage: Make An Eco-Skating Rink that I wrote about my experience of building an ice rink for my kids (you can catch a glimpse of them skating on the rink in the post).

The full holiday gift guide for the Gym Rat includes all the reasons to work out, how many calories you can burn off doing winter sports, how to make your own gym clothes (no, you can't always wear your pj's)
, and how to create your own gym equipment. Check it all out here.

The cartoon is used with permission from New Yorker cartoonist, Liza Donnelly. It's from her funny new book, When Do They Serve the Wine.

Slow Love Shows Us The Purpose of Life Can Be Just That

Soon after I wrote about the “reinvention generation, treat ” I received a review copy of Slow Love: How I Lost My Job, hospital Put on My Pajamas & Found Happiness by Dominique Browning. This book totally captivated me. It was written by an author that I’ve followed ever since she took the editorial helm at the now deceased House and Garden magazine. I looked forward to Browning’s reflective editorial letters each month. I kept a file of those pages because they touched me in so many unexpected ways – the writing style was graceful and casual, the tone of the editorials had an eclectic mix of something you didn’t read about when entering a shelter magazine. The topics she chose touched a chord that glimpsed the purpose of living fully (even if you couldn’t live in one of those magnificently staged House and Garden homes). She discussed her emotional angst about her children growing up and the difficulty of adjusting to an empty nest (she didn’t like not having a choice about it), the end of a fine dinner party (peace and quiet), renovation nightmares (Why do we keep doing it?) and her environmental activism (she writes a column for the Environmental Defense Fund). Actually, now that I think about it, and reread those letters, Browning’s musings read like a blog conversation waiting to be commented on. She describes her personally tumultuous situations so eloquently, and with humor. When House and Garden folded in 2007 without warning, her purpose-driven life came to a deafening halt...CLICK HERE FOR MORE

Here is an interview with Dominique that I did for Planet Green.