On Traditions – Page 4 – Life As An Art Form

Love-takes…on Thanksgiving

11/22/201101/17/2012by Avril Somerville (SomerEmpress)12 Comments

From the time I can remember, I’ve always insisted on going against the grain. I’ve never liked doing things within the norms of tradition because that would be so predictable, plus I don’t want to create any expectations. 🙂 So I figured why wait to write about love on my wedding anniversary, which is more than a half-year away, when I can write about it on Thanksgiving or thereabouts, because after all, it is just the thing for which I am most thankful. I know…it makes complete sense to me too.

After seventeen years of being coupled and nearly fifteen years of being married, I’m still amazed at the lessons that Love teaches me. They are several, and even while many of us know them at our core, I think that these, in particular, bear repeating:

Love takes no less than everything.
Seriously, just when you think you’ve got it covered, you have to turn it up a notch or fine-tune it to keep it running like clockwork. However, unlike clockwork, it needs more than regularity and sameness. It needs spontaneity and diversity. Who enjoys taking the same route, after fifteen days, let alone seventeen years? Frequenting a different café or rendering an occasional surprise from time to time changes things up a bit. And, who knows? It might even be fun!

Love is not all about you! Don’t say I didn’t tell you.
Love takes an ongoing divestment of self, and submission of pride or haughtiness, to not constantly argue or be combative. Naturally, this is a lot easier when your significant other has a good track record of having your best interest at heart.

Love requires more than him saying “Yes, dear”.
Love also requires your voice. Say “Yes siree, Bob!” sometimes, even when you don’t mean it. Say “yeah, ok” or something along those lines, and keep it moving for Peace’s sake! Some battles just ain’t worth it, I say. There are some matters that men just won’t understand, no matter how hard you try, or how compassionate or brilliant they are…and that’s really okay. Really, it is. You can get him on the next go-round! Booya baby! 🙂

In love, intimacy means more than sex.
All joking aside, real intimacy happens when there is more than just horizontal alignment; it occurs when two people are aligned in financial and spiritual matters, including long-term goal setting, parenting (if applicable), and life dreams. That isn’t to say that we must agree on everything, but it does mean that fundamentally, our values are compatible enough to allow us to grow in meaningful and sustaining ways.

Lauryn Hill captured it best when she said, “Fantasy is what we want, but reality is what we need”. The same is true about our impressions and expectations about Love. Real love lies beyond the fantastical and far beyond the horizon of any fairy tale, so I’ll take my hubby even after our worst days, when everything feels anything but right, and certainly after I’ve realized that I can no longer remember what it is we were arguing about in the first place.

Love wasn’t designed to be perfect, static, or untested. Rather, love is ever-changing and challenging, yet remarkably beautiful and worthy of obtaining. Yes, love takes us into an orbit beyond our comprehension, and into a place for which no amount of previous navigation prepares us. It takes us to a place where our egos are suppressed, sometimes against our will; but in the long run, we emerge better for the indelible impression it makes on us.

Sorry Adele, you’re my girl and all, but I’m writing the lines this time. Sometimes it hurts in love, but somehow, it lasts instead! So, maybe I will give hubby his birthday present on Thanksgiving after all! 🙂

I’d love to hear about your love-takes, or how love has affected you in a way that you don’t mind sharing. Come on, indulge me!

More Love-takes for your listening pleasure:

Comes Love, rendition by the late, great Lady Day aka Billie Holiday
Love Rain, waxed poetically by the lovely Jill(y) Scott from Philly

Children, Mother & Daughter, On Traditions

Have Her Cake…

05/24/201101/30/2012by Avril Somerville (SomerEmpress)14 Comments

The more I get in touch with who I am, the more I am convicted about how I should invest my time, energy, and money. As the birthdays of my daughters loomed on the horizon, I considered how we would celebrate them this year. The birthday parties of last year and the year before just couldn’t be done, as they entailed more planning, labor, and finances than I cared to invest this year. We would have to take it down a notch, and scale back financially. As I became more attuned to Spirit, I realized that we needed to do something differently, even if it meant a lower-key celebration than in years past; however, I struggled to balance the warning to heed my own inner voice and the desire to give my daughters a special birthday celebration.

I considered various plug-and-pay (oops, I mean “play”) places and venues that cater primarily to children: Chuck E. Cheese, inflatable amusement parks, and other such operations designed to make it “simple” to celebrate the guest of honor. Inarguably, those places are strictly for kids, but adults hate them almost as much as kids love them. The food is usually meager, and tastes just okay, it’s loud as hell, and if there are kiddie areas, they usually feature ball-pits or shared apparatus that are cesspools for viruses. The smaller kids get stomped by the bigger kids, who know good and well that they have no business occupying the little kiddie areas. Then to add insult to injury, adults are subjected to a frenzy of antsy children eager to redeem tickets for some cheap dollar store chotchkes. Parents wait impatiently, arms teeming with children’s gear and goodie bags, and when it’s over, everyone swears that it will be a while before signing up for this mess again! As much as I’ve come to despise these places for their success at sucking us in, they were options worth considering, particularly during this period which my dear friend calls “forced convalescing”; nonetheless, I just couldn’t bring myself to prepare for a stampede of unruly children or for playing musical rooms. Not exactly what I had in mind!

Conversely, I also wanted to steer away from a celebration where the focus becomes more about entertaining the adults. The poor birthday child (if you can find her) keeps asking “Mom, when can we cut the cake, when can we open my presents?” “Not now baby, we’re still waiting for Cousin Lester to come.” LOL!! The adults are drinking it up, listening to grown-folks music, probably well on their second helping of food already, and there is nothing else for the children to do but pester the adults. I also wanted to avoid a celebration that was too over the top, or required too many moving parts. I’ve found that in those instances, both the birthday child and parents are overwhelmed. Though my physical limitations were enough of a reason to reel the party in a bit, my conscience screamed even more loudly, “less is more, party-girl!” In the bigger scheme of things, it mattered little to my daughters how much I spent on their birthday parties or where I chose to have them. The decision was mine to make.

When our youngest daughter’s birthday came about on May 16th, I suggested to my husband that we invite four or five of her friends, do one craft activity, have a light bite, and follow with cake and ice cream. It seemed easy enough, or so I thought. I would order the cake, and coordinate the activity while perched at the kitchen table, with my feet propped up on a chair. My husband was perplexed and said “Whoa! Slow your roll, butterfly!” He insisted that I was already getting way ahead of myself, given that I was just closing in on my second week after major invasive surgery. So instead, we agreed to extend our small family celebration to just one other family with children close in age that could also enjoy the same experience.

Needless to say, my little ladybug’s “party” turned out to be a beautiful and special celebration! I soaked it all in as I watched my birthday girl dance with her friend and sister, to Katy Perry’s “Firework” (their girls’ empowerment anthem), and “Four Boys Named Jordan”. Of course, I had to put on “Single Ladies”, by special request, for the birthday girl. (I’m still not sure why that song is so infectious among such young children.) They danced, played, laughed, spun, fell out, and giggled as they held hands and caught glimpses of their reflections in the oven door. Unlike previous birthday parties, I did not have to corral a herd of children, or tend to a burdensome list of items. This time, I was fully present. After cutting the cake and opening her cards and presents, she very contentedly remarked, “my birthday party is over, Mom…I had fun!” Our one guest family packed up to return home, while we picked up what little there was to pick up, and quietly retired for the evening. Our little birthday girl was ready to call it a night without being exhausted or over stimulated. When it was all over, I was thankful to have had a simple affair, as it brought pure enjoyment to the one who matters most…our youngest birthday girl.

I’m not sure how we’ll celebrate our oldest daughter’s birthday yet (May 25th), but whatever we do will be beautiful and special. At minimum, it will reflect simplicity, and my desire to “take back” and re-inject our own meaning into birthdays and other family festivities where going overboard will no longer be the norm.

Don’t worry….my daughters will certainly have their cake, but I’ll eat it too!

Some more “healthy” inspiration:
– “Hands“, by Jewel
– “Firework“, by Katy Perry

Children, Life, On Love, On Traditions

When The Easter Bunny Comes

04/24/201101/17/2012by Avril Somerville (SomerEmpress)3 Comments

“Is the world a better place with the Easter bunny?” Damn skippy, it is! 🙂

In fact, Easter for me has always been an important time, mostly because it comes at a time when new life springs forth, and what was once dormant becomes resurrected. Life resurfaces in all of nature. Flowers bloom, trees fill in with leaves and fruit, and neighbors reveal their previously hibernated smiles covered by winter scarves and hiked-up collars. So, although much of what comes with Easter seems to have a very commercial focus these days, I say “Let’s hear it for the Easter Bunny! Woohoo!”

As far as I’m concerned, the presence of the Easter Bunny is not about debating the legitimacy of Easter, or whether it’s a pagan holiday, but about making people happy. At least in this household, the Easter Bunny is all about the smiles that I see on my children’s faces when they enter the household, and find that an assortment of fun surprises await them, with accompanying, personalized notes. Though they never talk or inquire about the Easter Bunny before Easter, they’re taken off-guard every time “he” makes a visit. (I happen to know this Easter Bunny very intimately, and how much he cares about making children happier.)

Perhaps there is little excitement beforehand because we don’t talk about Easter, per se. Rather than spending time discussing religious differences or practices, we strive to teach, and live out, the commonalities that define us all, even during a highly regarded, religious holiday such as Easter. These include themes such as renewal (new life, babies, flowers, trees, more abundant sunshine), restoration (healing, repair), revival (celebration/ injection of new life), vivacity (life itself), and the audacity of life itself – its boldness to dare spring anew again after such dormancy. Even children can embrace these concepts. In this same manner, we embrace the Easter Bunny’s regularity and attentiveness to bringing smiles and contentment, ultimately creating indelible childhood memories that will last them a lifetime.

So Easter isn’t as much about candy, or even the Easter Bunny, but about the occasion itself – one for joining with families, or friends that are like family, during the earliest part of Spring, when the air is warmer, clothes are lighter, and summer fun is closer within reach. With the palpable anticipation of more outdoor fun spent with friends and family, the appreciation for life itself, seems new. So breaking bread to welcome the season and restore hearts after a long drawn-out winter seems like only the right thing to do; with family and friends…and of course, my Easter Bunny! 🙂

“Let’s Hear it For the Boy”, Deniece Williams

Life, On Love, On Traditions

Chocolate Communion

02/14/201103/06/2012by Avril Somerville (SomerEmpress)2 Comments

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I have a confession to make: I’ve been eating way too much chocolate. Sometimes a fun-size or bite-size chocolate will do, but this indulgence is on a whole different level, Lord. The sad truth is that there is nothing fun about having cheap chocolate! These “over-the-counter” versions only lure me in, tease me, and leave me still wanting more…of the really good stuff. Hershey, Whitman’s chocolate and Russell Stover seem so anticlimactic when what I really crave is Fannie May or Godiva. And for some reason, the only words I can discern when these cravings hit are “Go get Go Diva girl!”:-

Just when I thought I kicked the chocolate crave, and reined in my willpower to stay the course, my husband walks in with these bite-sized pretzel pieces. Well, I’ll be damned!! He bought bread! Pardon me, but bread is the last thing I need, especially not the white-flour Auntie Anne’s variety. Perfectly salted and buttered, these little dough balls look like fried dumplings and seem to call out to me in first soprano: “Eat me! Eat me!” Daggone it! I start feeling guilty because I really don’t see how I’m going to resist this one. Not this time. My hormones are all over the place, and I really don’t see me going to bed without partaking, even if only just one. Forgive me! These are bite-sized pretzels, right? Bread is my kryptonite. It undoes me as it makes its quick and direct descent to my hips! And this is all before my son’s birthday party, where I’m presented with my next deadliest form of Bread…Birthday cake! What is a girl to do, Lord?

To make matters worse, and for reasons that I won’t explain here I need forgiveness as I’ve taken a brief imposed hiatus from exercise. This is problematic, as exercise fuels me like nothing else. It is an integral part of my daily living and provides me with the ultimate endorphin release like no synthetic drug can. As I achieve fitness gains, I get stronger both mentally and physically. Even on my worst day, I’m ready to kick anyone’s badonkadonk after a good workout, so if someone is going to bring the funk, it better be their “A” game, baby! Another great benefit of exercise is that it keeps my metabolism in check, making indulgences for chocolate and bread fewer and farther between. So imagine what I feel like when I’m forced to sit on the sidelines eating Kit Kat, Twix and Wetzels Wonderful Hot Soft Pretzels dipped in hot melted butter! Things can get a bit off-kilter, to say the least.

The bread, chocolate, and cake are meant to comfort me, as well as balance what I think are erratic serotonin levels, but too much of the sweet sensations leave me in a quandary about whether I needed them in the first place. Maybe I didn’t need any of these things; not the bread, chocolate or birthday cake. Perhaps what I needed to do was dance to some Rihanna, read a few pages of Toni, or pick up the phone and comfort a friend for a few minutes. Or I could just simply…write.

Forget about it, I think what I’ll have is a good glass of wine. Scratch that! I’m going to have a glass of Six Grapes Port, the really good stuff. And darn that, I’ll have it with piece of cake…make that chocolate cake. Hallelujah, and thank you Jesus! That’s Communion.

Esperanza Spalding Wins Best New Artist at 2011 Grammys

Life, On Traditions

Sundays at Sunset

02/06/201101/27/2012by Avril Somerville (SomerEmpress)Leave a Comment

Today, I’m doing my adaptation of the emotion that the songwriter must have been trying to evoke when she wrote “Rainy Days and Mondays always gets me down“. I actually like rainy days and Mondays; it’s Sundays that are posing a bit of a problem. Sundays are supposed to mark a departure from the routine of the week. Largely unscripted, Sunday is an opportunity for our family to just relax, be with each other, and nestle a bit. Given a lighter schedule, I can crochet, pick up a book or my nook, do a bit of laundry if I’m so inclined, polish my toes, cook a Sunday dinner – or not, listen to music louder or longer than I usually do, let hubby and the kids sleep in a bit later than usual, and get out of my PJs when I’m good and ready. These are things that I love about Sunday. I just don’t think that this part of Sunday is quite long enough. It seems that it comes to a screeching halt without my asking. I dread the feelings of melancholy that sweep over me, rather abruptly, once the most exciting, but simple part, is over. The pending return to normalcy and routine gives me a swift kick in the rear to remind me of what now needs attending so the “work” week can get off to a smooth start. Go figure.

Indeed, there’s no day quite like Sunday. It seems to be the most civil and tempered of the two-day weekend. Family dinners, church hats, and football games are but a small part of the color scheme for several on this day of the week. Admittedly, this is a day for relaxation, reflection and grounding, and re-upping on depleted stores of energy, drive, and determination so that the upcoming week will be even better and more productive than the last. As such, Sundays very definitively, play an important role in making life that much more interesting, balanced, whole…and I want much more of it, minus the Super Bowl.

“Stay a Little While, Child”, Loose Ends