Posts Tagged ‘Georgia Grace’

not sleeping, waking!!

July 13th, 2011    -    6 Comments

 

10 Most Fun Things to Do in Summer
By Georgia Miller

There are a lot, I mean A LOT of fun things to do during summer break, but I have my favorites. Here are my top 10 favorite things to do over summer:

 

1. Amusement Parks!! I just love a good trip to Disneyland.

2. Vacationing! I remember last year I took a great trip to Kauai with my family.

3. Ice Cream! You can’t really do it . . . but who cares? It’s awesome anyway.

4. Doing nothing. I usually just do nothing when I’m not flipping, singing, dancing, or acting. Wow. I never do nothing.

5. My Acting Camp. I love my acting camp. It’s soooo fun.

6. Swimming! I just love cannonballing into a pool of cold water.

7. Hanging Out With Friends. Me and my BFF Kenna always have tons of sleepovers during the summer.

8. Going to the Beach!! I love the rush of icy water on my piggies!

9. Sleeping in. I don’t usually sleep in, but when I do, I feel relaxed.

10!! Gymnastics! I only started team this year, but I loooove it!

Those are my fave things to do during summer! What are yours?

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to a retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

paw prints

July 9th, 2011    -    10 Comments

Book Review & Giveaway
by Georgia Miller

Since my daughter’s literary interests have long veered toward the furry four-legged, she was eager to share her latest book review. Read the instructions at the end of this post and you will be entered to win her own special giveaway.

A Dog Named Slugger by Leigh Brill is a touching true story about a young woman and her service dog.

Because of her cerebral palsy, Leigh was in need of a service dog. She had trouble walking and a dog would help her balance and walk up stairs. When she finally received Slugger, she had to go through several training courses. I learned that dogs can be used for more than companionship.

One day, when she was walking around on campus, Leigh met her future husband. They always loved playing Frisbee and catch with Slugger. When Leigh was interviewed for a job, they wouldn’t accept her because of Slugger. No matter how hard they tried to get Leigh to work without her dog, she wouldn’t give in. She was brave.

Of course, after the many years of helping Leigh, Slugger developed arthritis. It eventually got worse and worse, so Leigh decided to get another service dog named Kenda. Kenda was a young, fun-loving puppy. So she helped Leigh during the time when Slugger was sick and had to be put to sleep. That part of the book was so sad I didn’t want to read it at night before bed so I read it in the car on the way to gymnastics.

I thought this was a great book. It is absolutely perfect for the young dog lover, or a dog lover of any age. It’s good to read books about dogs so if you’re looking to get one, you can learn what they are like. This is now one of my favorite books. I loved it. I learned a lot about people and dogs, and it made me feel lucky.

If I could say anything to Leigh Brill it would be that you are really awesome and you are one of my idols. I hope you write a book about you and Kenda!

Now for my giveaway. Please leave a comment with your suggestion of more books I should read and review this summer. If I choose your name, I will send you a super cool duct tape wallet handmade by me!

It’s Kid’s Week on Cheerio Road. Check back frequently for guest posts on the darnedest things.

 

doing good

May 22nd, 2011    -    16 Comments

I’ve pulled up one of those plastic stackable chairs alongside the humming hulk in the middle of the icy room. My daughter is lying inside the cylindrical chamber. We are both relieved that her head is peeking out at my eye level. A white fleece blanket covers her. Beneath it, she is holding a teddy bear handed to her at the last minute. She wears head phones tuned to Radio Disney. Her eyelids flutter.

From time to time the technician tells her something. I think he’s telling her what will happen next, but I can’t hear it. I only hear her answer. What she says is okay.

Neither of us is wearing metal. The clasp on my shoes, I was told, doesn’t matter.

The machine starts to make clicking sounds, then a growling heave and a sledgehammering smash. Over and over. On my lap is a New Yorker magazine opened to a story – I always read the fiction first. Three lines in and I look up at her, marooned. I watch her breathe. It’s beautiful.

She was anxious and afraid before we arrived for the MRI this morning. But this moment now is oddly comfortable and serene. I don’t mind the chill or the noise or the time. I know what to do, I know where to be, and I don’t want to be anywhere else.

I feel a kinship with every mother who has graced this station, parked in this plastic bastion of stillness, a steady eye in the tempest of uncertainty. We don’t know what will come of this – and there’s no reason for undue worry, it’s just a stubborn pain – but right now we are doing good. Right now is the only place we can ever do good, and this is as good as it can be.

Before we arrived I started to think about the difference between doing well and doing good. The “well” involves a subtle and insidious comparison of one outcome versus another, numbers and grades, finish lines, success, mediocrity, failure. Of course we all want our children to be well and to do well. We want the same for ourselves and our lives, as measured against goals and ambitions, as compared to others, always and ceaselessly compared to others. Sometimes I am far more concerned with doing well than doing good, and that’s no good.

Hours like these – so wholly purposeful and riveting – shift my sights away from my puny obsessions and toward the great immeasurable good, a single moment of undistracted presence. Over the din and out of nowhere I hear her say, like a benediction, okay.


Beginner’s Mind One-Day Meditation Retreat, LA, Sun., June 12

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to a retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

repeat until all gone

April 26th, 2011    -    16 Comments

On Sunday evening, my daughter looked up from the sofa and told me she was going to write a blog post. Seeing it later, I wondered if she was reading my mind. She was no doubt reading her own mind, consoling that restless uncertainty that surfaces in the spring. Maybe the bunny brings us fluff to buffer the bumps ahead: the transitions, the spurts, the sudden endings and the fits. Things are changing all around and in-between us, and I can scarcely steal a kiss. I smiled when I saw how she straddles her precarious age, savoring one piece of  kiddie candy before wrapping herself in the shiny gloss she lets us see.

She makes me happy enough already, but you might need some excellent advice from a girl who knows her happy.

Recipe for Happiness
by Georgia Miller

Feeling blue? Need a boost? These easy-to-follow steps will make you feel a whole lot better.
Ingredients
10 M&Ms
1 Hershey’s Kiss
Bath Salt (Optional)
Facial Scrub

Step 1- Take your 10 M&Ms in your hand and pop one in your mouth, but don’t chew it. Suck on it until it melts in your mouth. Repeat until they are all gone.

Step 2- Either do the same with the Hershey’s Kiss or start taking minuscule bites out of the tip until you finish.

Step 3- Slip into the tub or, if you prefer the shower, “jump” in. Make sure the water is comfortably warm. If you’re in the tub, pour in 1 ½ tsp of scented bath salt. If you’re in the shower, use a loofah to rub scented soap (I like the French liquid soap from Trader Joe’s) all over your body.

Step 4- Rub facial scrub on your face and leave it on for 5-7 minutes. Rinse off with warm water and a soft washcloth.

I hope these four steps helped you feel happy and relaxed!

-Georgia : D

She’s inspired to write because she is reading Karen Benke’s Rip the Page! Adventures in Creative Writing.

Love Beyond Limits Workshop, Wash., DC, Sat., April 30
Beginner’s Mind One-Day Meditation Retreat, LA, Sun., June 12

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to a retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

seeing through

March 23rd, 2011    -    18 Comments

Here’s the thing about your 11-year-old. She has begun to see through the school she tries to like and the teachers she tries to love. See through the endless days and the culminating years. See through the grades and contests, the History Festival, Science Fair, Math Olympics and the Cultural Appreciation Day, all serving a half-hidden agenda. She has begun to see through the false privilege of measured gifts and talents, the flimsy prize of more work and extra credit. She has begun to see through the exaggerated stakes, the badges, and the salesmanship without end. She has begun to see through the unmasked elitism, the hysteria of parents in panic. She has begun to see through anyone and anything that would make a pet or pawn of her. And that empty stare, that wounded glare she brings to you – she’s wondering if you don’t see through it too.

There is that one thing, though, that ignites her pulse and passion, that giant leap beyond reason, a goal that defies the odds. See that through. Just see that through. And scream your fool head off.

tiger bait

February 6th, 2011    -    23 Comments

Comparing our kids to one another is the most juvenile thing we grown ups can do. But amid all the recent hubbub over so-called Chinese style parenting,  I’ll take the bait.

Unlike some other kids, here are some things my daughter is allowed to do:

• spend time making friends
 • open her eyes to a world that is not defined by rank, culture, race, wealth, elite performance, or my ideas about the same
• be in a school play
• complain about not getting the part she wanted
• perform in the play anyway and overcome the sting of not being “best”
• learn by her own disappointments to be kinder to others
• obey me, disobey me; gladden, frustrate, and defy me; and one day repudiate me, as she must
• watch TV on weekends, learning that when it comes to finding TV entertainment, the first hour is easy and the second and third hours are hard
• devote herself to extracurricular activities that I was never good at or afraid to try
• remind me, when she sees my face collapse in horror, that “a B is a good grade too.” read more

what happened to my punkin

November 23rd, 2010    -    17 Comments

Reprising, reposting and reflecting on the amazing transformation of little punkins around here.

Because Mika said any self-respecting pumpkin pie starts with real pumpkin, I went to the overcrowded and overstocked supermarket two full days before the holiday in search of the small cooking pumpkins required to get my pie rolling right. That’s when I discovered that fresh pumpkin pie must be a kind of a urban myth in these parts, because after the six-month Halloween selling season, all those precious little pumpkins are all sold out or out back in the trash. So we started with this, Georgia’s mummy pumpkin, which was still sitting around looking cute and useless, and set out to give it new life as a savory, flavory dessert. read more

the last chapter

August 5th, 2010    -    2 Comments

Last night I watched Georgia transform herself into a genie for a local kids theater performance of “Aladdin.” It was magic, I tell you, to see your baby girl grow up to be a genie who grants all your wishes with the shine of her smile. This morning, still reeling from the smoky potions, I remembered one of her lines, spoken to the wistful Aladdin who is wishing he could win the love of Jasmine by turning into a prince:

Al, all joking aside, you really oughtta be yourself.

And that reminded me of so much else, the whole of it, really, the beginning and the end, and so I spoke it out to share it with you here, the last chapter of Momma Zen. Listen and lose yourself in the story, the marvel, and then look up. See if you can’t crack a smile.

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to my Boston retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

sitting quietly doing nothing

June 28th, 2010    -    14 Comments

Last week my daughter finished fourth grade.

At the beginning of the year her teacher asked the students to make a time capsule from a cardboard cylinder and fill it with artifacts. Inside went a self-portrait; a hand print; names of favorite foods, movies and books; and a list of goals for the year ahead. She opened it on the last day of school, and this was what it said:

What I would like to learn this year:
1. Pi
2.More long division
3.More multiplication
4.To type

What I would like to accomplish in school this year:
1. Math Field Day
2. Student Council

What I would like to accomplish at home this year:
1. Middle split
2. Back handspring

What I would like to do to become a better person:
1. Volunteer at the aquarium

I record these things here not for her, but for me. I had not one thing to do with anything on this list, and she did them all. I no longer know what pi is or does, and any handsprings I do are mere metaphors. I post it to remind myself that her life is her own, and to make space for it to grow in every direction. To trust her able hands, agile mind, limber legs and passionate heart. To delight in the scenery and to marvel at the change. To keep company with her – silent, loving, loyal company – and to leave her off my list.

Sitting quietly, doing nothing, spring comes and the grass grows by itself.

For an up-close view of what I mean, see what my friend Pixie saw in my patch of paradise. The photo credit is hers.

love this girl

April 30th, 2010    -    15 Comments

she levered into my lap
spilling over the overstuffed rocker
the old nest in the bend of my elbow
I had a rough day
I had a rough day
a catastrophe of words
spare can mean reserved or saved
I didn’t know
I didn’t know
I was so frustrated
Erased hard and tore a hole
in the multiple choices
her friends whispered into palms
my life is pointless
my life is pointless
the exaggeration scares her short
is the plural hyperboles?
she stretches the length
of her tiny big girl bed
head propped on a dingy pink unicorn
I see the sunrise and moonglow in her face
the bloom and the night
and I think to myself
Love this girl

A tribute to being 10.

It’s not you, it’s me

November 1st, 2009    -    19 Comments


My daughter has eight American Girl dolls and more than 200 outfits for them. They occupy a trunk, a dresser drawer, and a considerable amount of the floorspace in her room. I only wish they occupied an equivalent amount of her time, but I’ve learned not to expect that of childish things.

The sum of all this is so outrageous, so embarrassing, that I hesitate to do the math, but I will. Here is how we got in this mess: one doll was a hand-me-down, one came from her parents, one was awarded as a prize, one purchased with her own savings and the rest resulted from masterful pleas to aunts and grandparents.The newest one is always loved best of all, “best” and “all” being subject to the excruciatingly short lifespan of any fancy.

A year ago, I decided to put the kibosh on the whole thing, since to me at least, eight of anything has always been enough.

Yesterday I received something quite close to the following email.

Hi Karen: Well, our contingent feels pretty pleased with themselves regarding Chanukah. When Georgia was here in September she was very enthused about the new AG Doll, Rebecca. Of course we were all delighted. I just ordered Rebecca, plus accessories and the book, ______ got the pink “movie” dress, ______ got her two more books about Rebecca, and ______ got her Rebecca’s fur coat and muff set. It means a lot to us that she wanted it.

For those of you who don’t follow these developments with rabid self-interest, Rebecca is a soft-body plastic doll sold for $114, book and accessories included, embroidered with the storyline of a girl who celebrates the treasured traditions of her Jewish family.

From time to time I’m asked what it’s like to be married to someone who doesn’t share my practice, or more to the point, what it’s like to be in an interfaith marriage. This is what it is like.

***

The brilliant novelist and kindred spirit Elissa Elliott, herself a disaffected former fundamentalist Christian, has a fascinating post up today. I just read it, and it arrives like heavenly host into the dark storm of my wounded heart. She takes up the curious ramifications of the rising percentage of Americans who have no religious affiliation, a segment that will likely reach 25 percent of the population within two decades. She quotes one religion writer as saying “believers are perplexed and disappointed with God.” I rather think people are perplexed and disappointed with other people: their internecine fights and religious-political warfare.

At my weariest, I feel all alone, but more of us are beating a retreat every day.

***

I’ve written before about how my daughter views all this, or at least how she used to. It was inspiring and uplifting to me to see how purely she saw us all as one: the divisions meaningless, the sum greater than the parts.

If you click the link you might be wondering how the trip to Israel went. We didn’t go, because the brothers couldn’t work it out.

Yesterday I sent something quite close to the following email:

You can rest assured that Georgia sees herself as Jewish, and always has. No one here tries to take that away from her, or impose anything at all on her. What it means is entirely up to her. My only job is to leave all her options open, pick up the clutter, clean out the drawers, and love her no matter who or what she thinks she is. She doesn’t have to please me. No one in my family has ever insisted she be Christian, for goodness sake, or Buddhist, for that matter.

I am fully aware that this is the most trouble I have ever made about this, but then I’ve been uncharacteristically loud lately.

More and more it seems to me that there is one truth, and it cannot be named. Religious faith is one thing, but religious identity is another: like all identities, a complete human fabrication, and the source of perpetual conflict and suffering. Alas, we like to suffer, and spread it.

***

Elissa’s post closes with a sentence that pierces me through and through. It seems the name for people who claim no religious affiliation in our country has been shorthanded to “nones.” She writes, “I had no idea that there’s an actual term for all of us.”

There has always been a term for all of us. It’s called us.

But that’s what wishing is for.

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to my retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

Magic spell from a pincurl wizard

October 30th, 2009    -    7 Comments

Auspicious Dharani for Averting Calamity

No Mo San Man Da Moto Nan Oha Ra Chi Koto Sha Sono Nan To Ji To En Gya Gya Gya Ki Gya Ki Un Nun Shia Ra Shiu Ra Hara Shiu Ra Hara Shiu Ra Chishu Sa Chishu Sa Chishu Ri Chishu Ri Sowa Ja Sowa Ja Sen Chi Gya Shiri E Somo Ko

Translation:
Veneration to all Buddhas!
The incomparable Buddha-power that banishes suffering.
Om! The Buddha of reality, wisdom, Nirvana!
Light! Light! Great light! Great light!
With no categories, this mysterious power
Saves all beings; suffering goes, happiness comes!

***

If I ever tell you that I’m saying a service for you, this is what I say. On another note, it warms a mother’s heart to see that there is some magic that only pincurls can accomplish.

 

The bigger the hat the smaller the horse

October 16th, 2009    -    22 Comments


And other recollected wisdom from the day heaven kissed earth. These two thousand words are from the hand and heart of Tracey.

And just because, leave your name in a comment, plus a way to reach you by email, and I’ll draw for a gift subscription to my literary patron, the Shambhala Sun magazine. Winner drawn next Friday, Oct. 23, rain or shine.

Subscribe to my newsletter • Come to my retreat • Fan me • Follow me.

Pages:  1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ... 11 12

on my plate

Attention - Beginnings - Childhood - Compassion - Death - Dharma - Faith - Fear - Georgia Grace - Giveaway - Impermanence - Love - meditation - Mindfulness - motherhood - Parenting - Practice - Retreat - samsara - Time - True Nature - Truth - Writing Life - zazen - Zen

archives by month

reading

stay in touch