This morning Baby Linh raced up to me on all fours, pulled herself up on a basket next to my chair and looked at me with a big grin on her face. Then she started laughing. She laughed and laughed a big rolling belly laugh mixed with happy squeals for a good three minutes. And I laughed with her. We laughed just for the sheer joy of laughing. It was the most therapeutic three minutes I had all day.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine…”
– Proverbs 17:22
I imagine Mom tucking me into bed and asking me about my day. And I tell her…
I took the grandbaby out into the sunshine on the back deck and sat in a chair and she bounced on my lap for a while. We listened to the birds singing and she put her forehead against mine and chatted to me in her own language about life, and we laughed and sang together, and celebrated being alive on this fine spring day.
After she and my son and daughter-in-law left to run errands, I put Four Weddings and a Funeral on TV in the background while I washed the dishes and cleaned the counter and answered emails, and worked on my Blossoms game.
Then I went to the post office and got my mail and, just before I left, Luciano the Neopolitan Mastiff stuck his head out of the truck that pulled into the space next to me. Luciano and I are new friends – I just met him for the first time a couple of days ago – and I was so happy to see him again. I got out of my car to say hi to him. His kind human recognized me and gave me a biscuit to feed Luciano. I held it out on a flat palm to feed him in the same way I would feed a horse. He sucked up the biscuit and left a trail of doggy slobber on my hand. It was awesome.
I drove from the post office to the supermarket to pick up some things before I headed home. The older woman in front of me in the checkout line was classy and elegant-looking. She had golden open-toed sandals, tan capris, and cool, spangly jewelry, and her hair was beautifully-coiffed in what we used to call a “page boy.” She turned to smile at me and to apologize for taking so long to put her stuff on the counter, and I told her I loved her shoes and her earrings and… oh look! We had the same kind of reusable shopping bags! She laughed and said she thought she’d gotten hers from some charity she’d donated to. I looked at the bottom of my bag and saw that I’d gotten it from the Lakota Sioux people – a group I donate to regularly. I’d forgotten I’d gotten that bag from them. It was cool to realize this gracious put-together woman and I both donate to the same people. I love making connections like that.
I stopped at the Edison Cafe to get some lunch and a raspberry Italian soda and sat at the table outside to wait. Soon Austin (the owner of the cafe and one of my former eighth graders) delivered the soda to me. He’d topped the soda with whipped cream and sprinkles and it was beautiful. Before I’d come outside, I’d nodded and smiled to a couple of young men eating their lunch at a table inside – one of them was covered in tattoo art, and the other had a long black braid past his waist – and the thought came to me that I would love to have been the teacher to these gentle giants – they both emanated kindness and good will. When they came out to get in their car, they smiled at me again and wished me a good day, and I wished them one, too. I felt the genuineness of their wish for me, and our new connection.
I came home and mowed the lawn in the front of the house and in my Secret Garden – I love the smell of freshly-mowed grass – and the birds were singing – and the sun was shining on me – and it was just lovely.
I watched a movie I found on Netflix (The Peanut Butter Falcon) and then my son and daughter-in-law came home, and my other daughter-in-law stopped by – and it was so joy-filled to have everyone in the house, laughing and sharing space.
Then the grandbaby bounced on my lap and chatted to me for a while about her day, and I nodded at her insightful comments, and told her I love her.
It has been a good day, Mom.
Karen Molenaar Terrell
I wake and feel the presence of Love with me,
enfolding me in wings of joy.
I have worries when I wake –
frittering, fretting, fruitless frustrations and fears.
I reach out to our Father-Mother for reassurance and hear:
“Fear not. All is well. Trust.”
And I do.
And it is.
And the fear dissolves into nothing
in the comfort of Love’s gentle mothering.
I feel the laughter of the Cosmos
and join in the celebration.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
(Rainbow flower doodle by Karen Molenaar Terrell.)
My dear Humoristian hooligans –
Your mission (should you decide to take it – and, really, what’s the alternative?) is to keep hope alive in yourself so that you can bring it to those lost and weary in a valley of despair. May your irrepressible joy and never-ending good will to all bring light to the desolate, discouraged, and disheartened. May your generosity and open hearts transform the stingy, stodgy, and stuffy. May the bigots, bullies, and busybodies be transformed by your relentless kindness and unfailing patience. May you bring laughter to those in sorry need of a good laugh.
Go out there and work your magic, my friends!
Karen
The last couple of days – in an effort to keep life in perspective – I’ve been making an effort to acknowledge all the 99.9% of life that’s good and beautiful and going on around me all the time – every creature that’s expressing life; every breath I take; every smile exchanged; every pretty little rock I find; the perfume of every flower I sniff in the Valentine’s display at the supermarket; every raindrop sparkling in the sunshine; every purr from my cat; every shared laugh on the boardwalk; every swan and eagle winging above me; every kindness shown me by friends and strangers – and I’m here to tell you that we live in a wondrous and bountifully beautiful world.
Karen Molenaar Terrell
Photos above by Karen Molenaar Terrell.
If I
stop loving because others are at war
will that help the world?
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
T’was two weeks afore Christmas and all through Eff Bee
not a creature was stirring – not a they, she, or he.
We were prostrate and spent from the holiday bustle
not a twitch could be seen from the teeniest muscle.
We lay all unblinking in our respective beds
while visions of gift-wrapping swirled through our heads.
And clad in our jammies and our way cool madcaps
we had the vague hopeful hope our bodies would take naps.
Holiday jangles and jingles pinged through our brains –
Presley, Crosby, and Mathis taking us down memory lanes –
and would we remember every member to be gifted?
We mentally went through our lists, hoping none were omitted.
There were homes to be decorated and cards to be sent;
parties, caroling, and cookie-making, and we hadn’t made a dent.
But with a collective sigh we remembered there and then
that it’s really about good will to all creatures – every they, her, and him.
And so our thoughts finally settled and our bodies relaxed
as we thought of those we love and a world festooned in pax.
With our hearts wrapped in kindness and the world as our ‘hood
We’re all brethren and sistren – and verily, It’s all good!
– Karen Molenaar Terrell, The Madcap Christian Scientist’s Christmas Book
My dear Humoristian hooligans,
Today may you love the hell out of the world. May you open the floodgates of Love and let Love water the weary hearts athirst for kindness and caring. May you refuse to allow fear and hate to steal your hope and courage. May the bigots, bullies, and busybodies be transformed by your open hearts and good will to all. May the stodgy, stuffy, and stingy be transformed by your irrepressible joy. May you bring laughter to those in sorry need of a good laugh, and hope to those ascared of the future.
Go out there and work your magic, my friends!
Karen
Kurt Vonnegut said, “I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, ‘If this isn’t nice, I don’t know what is.'”
And this morning I took notice. This morning was magic – from beginning to end – this morning was magic:
I decided today would be a good day to make my monthly drive to La Conner and pay my broadband bill. As I was getting in my car to head out, I had my first snow geese sighting of the year – a flock of them flew right over our house!
I stopped on the way to La Conner to take a quick walk on the Padilla Bay Dike Trail, and saw a blue heron flapping around a couple of egrets – that was very cool – I don’t often see egrets up here. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen them with a heron.
Jolyne and Jeri were both manning the broadband office today – I always enjoy seeing them every month – they are a comedy team. Jolyne was talking today about starting a “J and J” podcast and I would watch that, for sure.
After I paid my bill I headed towards the La Conner boardwalk for a walk along the Swinomish Channel. On my way to the boardwalk I spotted a squirrel hopping along the street, one of the last of this year’s dragonflies, and a bee on the last of this year’s flowers. I met a man named Don on the boardwalk, in La Conner for a reunion with some of his friends from the Seattle University class of 1962. As we chatted I found out he’d grown up in Winlock – he didn’t think I would have even heard of Winlock – but, coincidentally, I have a couple of friends who grew up there! It was fun to find that connection.
I hadn’t been planning this, but when I got to the Calico Cafe, I decided to turn in there for lunch. I asked for a seat outside, and the hostess led me to a nice seat in the sunshine where I could watch the seagulls and pigeons winging over the water, and the fishing boats motoring by on the channel. The hostess was cheery and helpful and brought me a mocha and punched my espresso card while I waited for the waitress.
It was perfect out there – just the right temperature – I could feel the sun warming my back. I felt safe and happy. I had everything I needed in that moment. And I looked around at all the life going on around me – the birds and the people and the little ladybug in the potted plants. Such joy!
When Kaya, the waitress, came for my order, I ordered a pesto froccacia scramble – scrambled eggs full of spinach, tomatoes, feta cheese, and focaccia bread. When Kaya brought it out, I just looked at the beauty of it for a moment. Took a picture of it with Kaya – I told her she had to be in the picture, too – and she graciously let me include her in the photo. I asked Kaya her name and she told me and then I told her my name was (pause for dramatic effect) “Karen” and she started laughing, passing my Karen Test.
Two women came into the outside dining area with a little girl skipping along behind them. The way the little girl approached life just tickled me. She was just so happy to be there. I chatted to the women and found out that they were sisters and the little girl was the daughter of one of them.
Kaya came up to give me a box for my leftovers and to give me my bill. I told her everything was just perfect. I was enjoying one of life’s perfect moments. She smiled and got a little teary and thanked me for sharing that.
As I got up to leave the mother of the little girl turned and wished me a good day, and I told her then that I love the way her little girl approached life – just so happy.
As I walked back to my car I passed a couple on the sidewalk and said, “Isn’t it a perfect day?” And they smiled and agreed it was.
I stopped to wave to the balcony of the apartment where Mom and Dad used to live, and felt Moz waving back to me. I felt her walking with me in Love.
This morning was perfect. And I’m so glad I let myself be conscious of that.
So yesterday I’m eating breakfast by myself at the Harris Cafe. Some young folks come in and sit at the table next to me – two women and a man probably in their early twenties. And, of course, I’m listening into their conversation. And they’re funny and laughing at themselves and supportive of each other and they’ve got that energy, you know? And I find myself sitting there with a big grin on my face – just soaking in the joy.
After I’m done with my breakfast, as I get up to leave, I just have to stop and say something to these young ‘uns. So I turn to them and explain that I’m a retired high school teacher and the mother of two sons who are now all grown up – and that I’ve been missing the energy of young people. I tell them how much I’ve enjoyed their kindness to each other and their laughter. And they smile these warm, open smiles back at me, and nod their heads in understanding, and one of the women says, “Thank you!” and “You need to call your son!”
I ended up going to a movie, “Blackberry,” with my youngest son and his wife yesterday afternoon. And that was so fun! And then when I got home I called my oldest son in Australia and videochatted with him – I told him the story of meeting the three young people at the restaurant and told him I was obeying the orders of the young woman who told me to call my son. We had a wonderful chat together – and laughed and hugged each other over the phone. It was good.
And now I’m sitting here smiling and crying simultaneously. I do this a lot lately. There’s a feeling that can’t be put into a nice neat box and labeled “sad” or “happy” or “bad” or “good.” It’s deeper than all of those things. It goes beyond “bad” or “good.” It just IS.
Sitting next to those young people yesterday – soaking up their energy – was a gift for me.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell
“When the heart speaks, however simple the words, its language is always acceptable to those who have hearts.”
-Mary Baker Eddy, “Heart to “Heart” in Miscellaneous Writings
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 