Lessons in Gratitude Day 731

Posted on July 14, 2013 by mtchamblee

Today I tried to go on strike. I was pretty determined that I was going to be in a funk all day, sitting around vegging in front of the television and not doing anything useful whatsoever. I failed. Not miserably, but I failed nonetheless. My morning journal was filled with my determination to be ill tempered. I was frustrated not only with my own life, but with the general state of affairs in the country and world around me. I railed against all the things that felt wrong to me and the things I cannot fix or explain or even comprehend. And of course I ranted a bit at and about God. I allowed myself to be completely bitter, sarcastic, angry, and a whole lot of other “negative things” I don’t express very often. I even briefly took on my experience of writing this blog:

“I have spent 730 days of my life over the last two years picking away each day through the rubble of challenges and difficulties to find shreds and threads of something I could celebrate, that I could be grateful for. I wonder what the impact of that has been on me. Has it made anything easier or better? Perhaps. I don’t know.”

Oh dear, I can almost hear my mother saying to me, you are cranky. And I suppose that I was. I closed this morning’s journal with, “We’ll see how long I allow myself to be cranky. I’m going to shoot for all day. We’ll see how that goes…” In the end, my attempt to be cranky all day failed miserably. And while I am not in the space of grace and gratitude I often inhabit when I sit down to write this blog, I am in an okay place all things considered.

I have spent some time reading today, essays on social media and people’s reactions to them. All in response to the most recent of current events that would seek to tell me that some people are more important than other people, that the world opens up to and revolves around some people and remains closed off and unaccessible to others. I have, unfortunately, lived much of my life as the “other.” Recent events have left the country split and confused about what constitutes “justice.” The word has been overused, misused, or misinterpreted so as to be rendered nearly meaningless and tonight a segment of US society is wondering if the phrase, “with liberty and justice for all” really applies to them. I mean, what does all mean anyway?

As a child of two civil rights activists I grew up understanding that all meant something different for our family than it did for other people. I might not have known it in a historical or political context, but I definitely knew it in a personal one, particularly after we moved to the “white neighborhood” in 1962, during my 5th year of life. I knew that the neighbors weren’t pleased to be living next door to us–they wouldn’t wave or speak or acknowledge our presence. (I confess that at times I waved vigorously and called out to them just to be contrary.) Then there was the summer somewhere around my 10th year when someone sent two shotgun blasts through our house (I actually discovered one of two holes in the dining room.) No doubt my older siblings have many more detailed recollections of what life was like for Negroes back in the day. So I grew up somewhat sheltered but not totally unaware of the forces acting around me and over time that awareness blossomed into what became accidental activism; not something I set out to do, it just sort of…happened.

I’ve spent most of my adult life quietly working for what is now called social justice. I haven’t made a lot of speeches on courthouse steps or done a lot of public activism. My work has been much more low key and under the radar–often working one-on-one supporting individuals as well as helping create programs and policies to help larger numbers of people. Somehow I have been doing this work for the majority of my adult life: nearly 30 years. In that time I have had moments of absolute frustration and burnout and the keen desire to walk away from it all and do something else, anything else. But I’ve come to understand that you can’t simply walk away from this work, to lay down the tools of your trade and walk away from the worksite (or a soldier doesn’t simply lay down her weapons and walk off the field.)

So as tired and dispirited as I’ve found myself over the course of the last few weeks, and particularly over the last 24 hours, I will not leave my tools scattered around me and the worksite in disarray. I will finish the building I’ve been working on, hopefully having left things better than when I found them. I will turn over my tools to younger, stronger, more energetic people to continue the work. Several years ago I heard the voice of God asking me if I would give ten more years. At the time I didn’t know what God meant, but I assumed it was a request for ten more years trying to work for equity and social justice. By my reckoning I am coming close to the end of my tenure and then I believe I will have fulfilled my obligation. I do not know what God has for me next, but I’m hoping it involves farming (yes, the kind that involves cows and corn and such.) Until that day arrives, I’ll continue to do the work I do as best I can in service to those people like me who dwell on the margins of the “all” promised by constitutions and bills of rights.

I am grateful for all the people–my parents included–who have gone before me and paved the way for me to be where I am, now trying to help pave the way for others. I am grateful for the perseverance and resilience, the strength of will and spirit that we the other people of the Unites States of America have always shown in the face of hardship, tragedy, abuse, misuse and calamity. I am grateful that though there still remains a tremendous amount of difficult work to be done to bring more of us from the margins into the mainstream into the promise of the mythical “American Dream,” I am free to write and speak and act. I am grateful that at the end of this day that I had committed to being ill tempered, antisocial, and unproductive I have been anything but. That is the beauty of grace and gratitude; it is this wellspring in me that even when I try to push it down, it finds its way back. And for that I am exceedingly grateful.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 730

Posted on July 13, 2013 by mtchamblee

It’s hard to be brilliant two days in a row, particularly when you didn’t realize you were being brilliant. So I will just let things flow as they usually do and let’s see what happens. I want to spend some time this evening playing my guitar and singing, letting the music wash over me and down into the crevices that have gotten dry and parched. I need to put on my guitar and walk around singing rather than sit on my bed docilely picking out a few tunes. It’s been a while since I’ve done that and I can think of no better time to do it than this evening, when my spirit needs lifting. So I decided to spin the Random Number Generator and offer a post from earlier writings. I hope you enjoy this excerpt from October of 2011 as I prepare to spend some time with my music.

Sometimes it amazes me how quickly a day passes. And then another day quickly passes until it’s been another week. Time has flown by and is showing no signs of slowing down. I am grateful for the time I’ve had over these months to get a hold of myself,to develop some new ways of being in the world,and to begin the process of quieting my mind and opening up my heart and spirit. I don’t think I could have found my way into these new directions if I hadn’t experienced the painful endings that started me down this path in the first place. God needed to get my attention, I suppose, and boy was my attention gotten!

I still have a long way to go. In some ways I feel like I’m in kindergarten, learning and doing so many new things all at once and not sure how it all goes together. I hear that in first grade it starts to get a little better organized and that by fourth grade they actually split things up into separate subjects. That would be good; it’s all kind of overwhelming at the moment. In the meantime I am juggling–the job search, volunteering at the food pantry, the blog, walking at the Park, guitar playing, the meditation group and mindfulness practice, the nutritional cleanse–all the pieces of the self-help curriculum I’ve developed for myself. Today I got to thinking briefly about how the curriculum will shift when I start a new job. Gods willing, it’s bound to happen sooner or later. A big part of me feels like there’s no going back–that the me I was six months ago is significantly different than who I am today. I will bring all of this new awareness and this new learning to whatever work situation I find myself in and they–the new employers–and I will be all the better for it.

Maybe the curriculum I’ve laid out for myself is a bit like being in an interdisciplinary major college–you sort of put something together for yourself that makes sense. At the conclusion of it you have a degree that you then have to figure out how to put to use in the real world. I am learning a lot on this somewhat unorthodox path I’ve been traveling. Through intuition, timing, and sometimes plain old “luck” (another word for the synchronicity that happens when one is in the right place at the right time) new thoughts, ideas and opportunities have come my way. On a strictly practical level these have not involved increasing revenue generation, resulted in a job or other standard measures of “success.” By in the spiritual, intellectual, and emotional realms all that I’ve been experiencing and learning are paying and will continue to pay huge dividends that sooner or later will show themselves in the practical,natural realm. Until then you just have to trust me when I say that a lot is happening just below the visible light spectrum.

I am still enacting the curriculum I began putting together for myself two years ago. I had to make some changes when I moved all the way across the country, living in new environs and working full time. Most of the initiatives I undertook during my period of unemployment I have stopped doing and in some ways my life has suffered a bit for it. I need to make some different adjustments in my life right now to accommodate where I am in 2013, now that it is half over, to reestablish some new habits and practices that move me forward in the direction I want to go. I am still very much a work-in-progress: I probably bave been for much of my life. But I am grateful for the progress I’ve been able to make through pain and promise, tough times and good ones. The metamorphosis continues. We shall see what emerges from the cocoon this time.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 729

Posted on July 12, 2013 by mtchamblee

Call it delayed reaction. Call it exhaustion. Call it too many rides on Mephisto the Mechanical Bull. You can call it a lot of things. I feel like going on strike today. You are about to witness a dramatic transformation. I am going to walk myself through all the ways in which this has been a difficult week, a trying time, a shake-my-head, go back to bed kind of day and at the end of this writing I am still going to be grateful. It’s like a shell game: watch the three shells and see under which one the kernel of gratitude is hiding…

My son often said to me back when we were still living together in California, “You need to stop watching the news.” And my protest was always the same: “How will I know what’s going on in the world if I don’t watch the news?” But he was right. Perhaps I should stop watching the news. The nonstop coverage of drama, murder and mayhem, airplane crashes, law and order, injustice, incivility, racial profiling, political posturing, disastrous weather, the neverending stream of negativity that bombards me constantly whether I am watching network news or watching my feed on Facebook. I am surrounded by some version of what’s going on in the world.

People are riveted to a story unfolding in the news: a tale of two different people, two different stories, multiple truths. Depending on who you are, you are watching this story anticipating what will happen if the outcome goes a particular way. What will it mean to a large mass of people for whom the outcome will be an indicator of where things stand regarding our relationships to one another in this country? Some will hope for some version of what has been called “justice” and many will disagree about what justice looks like. No matter what the outcome is there are those who will argue that justice has not been done. I am one who has spent my life working on behalf of those for whom things like justice, freedom, fairness, equity has been promised but never guaranteed and often unevenly and inequitably delivered (if at all.) I have, like my parents before me and in their own ways their parents before them, and in fact our ancestors before them in their various ways striven and fought, labored, and persevered for some measure, some share of fairness of equality of opportunity. And like them and like so many of us I am tired.

Many times in the 700 plus days (two years) since I began writing this blog, I have hit a wall–run into this force field of exhaustion from the combination of my personal circumstances as well as what was happening in the world around me–that has made it remarkably difficult to express gratitude. This week during which I have been physically and mentally exhausted, grieving my aunt and still caring for my injured canine friend (and yes, that too has taken a toll), there are still many blessings for which I am grateful.

There are many, many (many) good people in this world. People who do the right things, who care for the people around them, who honor the earth, who are willing to say they don’t know, are willing to be wrong, are willing to defend those who cannot defend themselves, stand up for what’s right, even if it’s not popular. There are people who love, who care, who forgive, who honor life. People who know there aren’t easy answers, who don’t pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. There are many, many people–angels seen and unseen–who will watch out for my kids, who will help someone change a tire, who will intervene. There are people who will ask someone who is crying if they are alright, who will run toward danger to help someone rather than run away. There are people who will listen to their intuition and call the person who crossed their mind just to make sure they’re okay. There are people who will take a chance to get to know someone even if they look or act a little different than who they usually speak to. There are people who will tell the truth even when it is easier or more expedient to lie. They are everywhere. You are them, I am them.

I am foolish enough to believe in the basic goodness of humans. This is in spite of all the evidence around me that would seem to indicate that there are plenty of people who are not good (whatever “good” means, anyway.) A friend of mine used to shake his head at me and say, “Your problem is that you expect people to be as honorable, kind, fair, honest…etc. as you are. And when they are not, you’re disappointed.” He was right, I did expect that. And he was also right that when they turned out to be dishonest, unfair, hurtful, cruel, insensitive, whatever they were, I was disappointed. And yet, I am grateful for this attribute, no matter how foolish it might seem. Even with all the madness in the world, the evidence of “man’s inhumanity to man,” I still, perhaps foolishly, have hope. Even as tired as I am, as weary from fighting the foolishness, I am grateful and I have hope. As John Lennon sang, “You may say I’m a dreamer…but I’m not the only one.” I am one, I will remain one, no matter how tired I might get. So help me god. And for that, yes, I am grateful.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 728

Posted on July 11, 2013 by mtchamblee

Tonight I am grateful for the random thoughts that are coursing through my mind right now. I decided that I would take a lighter approach to the blog this evening. I got tired of seeing myself write about how tired I am. I am tired; but my tiredness has gotten tiresome, even to me. So enough of that and enough of seriousness tonight. This evening I was standing looking out my kitchen window letting random thoughts course through my mind…(hmmm, a theme here perhaps). I was munching on tricolor tortilla chips and wondering if the sandwich I had for dinner along with the chips would be enough. I added a bowl of honey nut Os and a couple of handfuls of cherries. It was then that I decided that tonight’s blog would highlight some of my more whimsical photographic moments. The cherries were what set off the idea. I took the photo of the bowl of cherries last summer during cherry season in California. (I have actually been grateful for cherries in past blogs…a bit embarrassing, but true!)

Life is like, well...

One of the things I appreciate about digital photography is that you can take hundreds of pictures without feeling guilty about wasting film.  I’d always wanted to experiment and take fabulous photos but never thought I was good enough to want to waste money developing film of pictures of obscure things and/or those that came out blurry to the point that you couldn’t tell what you were looking at. With digital photos I could take pictures of all kind of interesting and wacky things and if I didn’t like them, could simply delete them. Unfortunately, I’ve tended to treat some of my digital pictures the same way as I did my print photos–I keep pictures no matter how bad they might have turned out or how many versions of the same subject; the only difference is that I keep my print photos in a big box and I store my digital photos on my computers.

And so here for your viewing pleasure are a few of my more whimsical photos.

Trespassing Turkeys

Regular readers of this blog, particularly those who read during most of 2011 will know how much I was vastly entertained by the presence of huge flocks of wild turkeys that frequented the back parking lot behind my condo in California. During some really difficult days during which I struggled with loss and grief, the turkeys provided comic relief in the midst of the drama. I often managed to capture them in some highly amusing poses. In moving back east I regained my beloved northern cardinals but left behind my now equally loved wild turkeys.

The Return of the Red BIrd

And speaking of the beloved red birds, I was ecstatic to attract several cardinals–males and females to the bird feeder this past winter. I also enjoyed visits by nuthatches, tufted titmice (or is it titmouses?), and an assortment of finches, sparrows and other small birds. Of course I also attracted one of the local squirrels who entertained both me and Honor with its acrobatic attempts to get at the birdseed. He was never successful, but it wasn’t for lack of trying.

My backyard wildlife kept me entertained during my first fall and winter here in the East. When I first moved to my house back in October and looked out my kitchen window at the tree with a rather large hole in the side, I knew that some kind of critter had to be residing therein. I couldn’t have predicted the menage a trois that lived in the hole until I saw the three of them with my own eyes, all peering out of the hole at what I do not know. I loved the fact that two of them were grey and the third was black. I’m not sure why I found that amusing, but I did. Months later in the spring, I saw a trio of baby squirrels–all gray–frolicking and playing in and around the hole. Between the birdfeeder in the winter and the hole in the tree during the fall and spring, I was thoroughly entertained.

My Three Friends

I’ve taken a lot of photos over the past few years–a number of them have found their way into this blog. Some of them are of the beautiful areas around Cesar Chavez Park off the San Francisco Bay, some of sunsets and super moons, and many of wacky wildlife in and around the various places I’ve lived. I am grateful both for the experiences–the sights and sounds of the world around me–and for the means (by way of a good camera or my smartphone) to capture them.

Tonight’s blog is perhaps not one of my more serious treatments on the subject of gratitude, but hey, sometimes one needs to lighten up. I’ve found great joy in taking photos and have seen the delight that people experience when I share them.

Brother, Daughter, Sister

Finally, I want to add a representation of one of the most important sub-themes of this blog. When I write about the things that I am most grateful for, the most frequently mentioned blessing in my life is that of my family. I’ve written a lot about my siblings, children, and parents over the past two years. They remain the most important blessings in my life, the thing for which I am the most grateful. Even as my heart is still tender from the loss of my Aunt last Sunday, I am deeply grateful for who she was and who each person in my family is in my life.  They are God’s greatest gift to me and I am grateful to have them in my life. I didn’t share a picture of my four-legged roommate, but she too remains a source of joy, unconditional love, and, of course, gratitude. And I am grateful to each reader for whom I continue to write. Thank you for being here and sharing this journey with me.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 727

Posted on July 10, 2013 by mtchamblee

I think I have been on an extended ride of Mephistopheles the Mechanical Bull. I think that in the last several weeks I have been whipped back and forth, up and down, side to side. So much happening so fast that it feels like I am holding on for dear life, barely able to keep up with it all. And yet, as always, there are periods of grace sprinkled throughout the day that make the jarring ride on the mechanical bull bearable. I’ve had some really, really bad days over the past few years, as well as some pretty good ones, and a whole lot of days that fall somewhere in between. I am grateful that through all those days–the really, really bad, the not so bad, and the almost good, the actually good–I nearly always experienced moments of grace. Not only that, I am grateful to say that I recognized them as such, which is also something I am incredibly grateful for.

Today I continued in the jetlagged feeling I’ve had for the past few days since my sister and I returned from our long weekend in Georgia. In spite of being in a bit of a fog off and on all day, I did manage to get some good work done on a project and had an generative, productive meeting with a colleague. On the one hand I’ve felt bogged down by all the work I need to get done and on the other I get energized when I see the possibilities in the work I am doing. It is those possibilities that keep me going when other things threaten my sense of optimism, dim my vision, and make me want to throw up my hands (or throw in the towel) and walk away. There is a quote from Ursula Burns, the CEO of Xerox, that I use as a signature at the bottom of my work emails. I also have it printed out and propped in front of my computer where I can see it every day.

“The more we do, the more we see the potential of what is possible. We are not discouraged by the enormity of what lies ahead; we are motivated by it.”

I must confess that there are times when I am overwhelmed and discouraged by the enormity of what lies ahead, but this quote gives me something to aspire to and reminds me that while things can be challenging, I have overcome challenges before and will continue to do so. And it’s the moments of grace that happen every single day that keep me moving.

I am in an upheaval mode–my planets got realigned a few years ago and they’re still settling back into their new patterns.  I’m still working all the kinks out. I’ve done a lot of work and taken specific, intentional actions to pull myself out of my own life drama and put myself back out into the world. The process is not finished; I can feel the pull of change tugging at the corners of my life. For now I roll with life and whatever it presents as best I can and try to keep on stepping. In the final analysis, that’s all I really can do–that and be grateful, of course. And I am that. Every day.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 726

Posted on July 9, 2013 by mtchamblee

I am grateful to have gifted guest bloggers who can step in and take over, writing beautiful reflections about gratitude. I was sorely in need of their assistance over the past several days. First my sister allowed me to totally put her on the spot when I invited her late one evening–on Independence Day no less–to write that evening’s blog. Called upon to perform with little notice she wrote a wonderful piece. I hope she agrees to come back and write more often. And last night when I was simply too tired to think let alone put together a coherent piece, my daughter asked me if I would let her write that evening’s blog. Let? I didn’t need to be asked twice. She did her usual excellent job, focusing on her appreciation for her recent ancestors–her grandparents, who have gone on before her, leaving legacies that she is learning to embrace. I am grateful both to Ruth and Michal for agreeing to reflect and share on something for which they are grateful. “Hearing different voices” focusing on gratitude has been quite refreshing for me.

Tonight I remain somewhat worn out from my travel over the holiday weekend. I commented to someone today that I feel jetlagged even though I didn’t actually fly and remained in the same time zone that I live in. I had a productive day at work but at the close of this day I am exhausted, nodding off with the computer on my lap. This is when I am grateful to turn to my own words written some time ago. Tonight’s wisdom comes from Day 298, written on May 7, 2012. It speaks to the resilience of spirit that miraculously appears when I need it to. Sometimes I am not always sure that I have any strength to draw upon and yet, when I reach into that magic hat, I still find a wellspring of energy that helps me overcome what I am facing and  get on with what needs to be done. I am grateful for that resilience and am relieved t be able to draw upon it yet again this evening. I hope you enjoy tonight’s post.

Sometimes when I have so many things to do,I play on Facebook and do everything but what I said I needed to get done. This procrastination/avoidance syndrome is not new or unique to me. I daresay we all suffer from it to some degree or another. Nevertheless,I have decided to buckle down and apply myself to trying to accomplish at least one or two things (this blog included) before I go pick up my son from work then rest my head for the night. I am grateful for the fuel that keeps me going from day to day. Though I’m not always sure what it is that motivates me on any particular day,I only know that when I reach into my bag needing some energy or motivation or strength or whatever so I can once again stand up against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,I always have something to pull out.

I do not take this lightly or for granted. Even when I sit sobbing into my “crying towel,”a part of me remains calm,knowing that when the storm has subsided,even if my circumstances have not changed one bit,I will somehow be alright. And so today,I got up,wrote in my journal,and got on with my day. I must confess to being somewhat cranky in the early part of the day,but even that eventually subsided and I managed to have a relatively productive day at work and a calm evening here at home. Considering my disheveled,distraught state of mind yesterday,this was a pretty dramatic improvement. I am looking forward to an even better day tomorrow. If there’s one thing I’ve learned during the dramas and traumas of the past year it has been to be kind and patient with myself as I walk this path. I have freaked out and calmed down a hundred times,soaked my crying towel more times than I can count,dragged myself out of depression and despair to land on my two feet,stand strong,bend without breaking and even having the nerve to laugh about it all.

Even in the midst of a complete meltdown,justifiable funk,or well-earned temper tantrum,I know that whatever is eating me will subside. I am hard pressed to describe how I know this,but I do. It’s a kind of grace,an understanding that I have with the Creator that no matter what else I feel at a given time,my heart always turns back toward the Divine with love and gratitude. Sometimes,even that makes me angry! I want to be pissed off at God for the predicament in which I find myself. I rail at God knowing that her “shoulders”are big enough to handle my anger until it passes and I am myself again. I learned about the goodness and grace of the divine not during those times when I was praying and singing hymns and doing all the “right”things. I learned more about divine grace when I’ve been grieving and hurt and angry and cursing at God at the top of my voice only to return to gratitude and love when I’ve calmed down. No,I don’t take any of this for granted,but I’m so grateful that it’s there.

I’m still waiting for all the good things that are coming. And there will be times ahead when I might yet fret about all of the unknowns that are the hallmark of my current existence. But I’m getting the hang of this living in the moment thing. I really have no other choice,and for now,that’s alright. Til it all gets sorted out,I’ll continue to navigate life’s challenges with a grateful heart. Thank you for being along with me and bearing witness.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 725

Posted on July 8, 2013 by mtchamblee

The following is a guest blog from my daughter Michal. She writes about desire for justice, and how her grandparents’ legacies live on.

______________________________

A few nights ago I changed my Facebook “profile picture” and desktop screensaver to a photo of my mother’s parents sharing a dance. The love and admiration reflected in each of their faces makes the photo one of my favorites out of the ones I have seen thus far. I must admit that I was feeling a bit blue and missing my grandparents – on both sides – when I changed the picture, or rather, the idea of them. I did not spend enough time with them in this life, and sometimes I long for their stories and embraces.

But another reason I want to see the photo is to remind myself that I am part of something larger – that my life purpose is connected to justice and the betterment of humankind. These are grand words to describe a simple concept – that I have always felt and continue to feel a calling to stand against the injustices I see, hear, and feel around me. This call did not originate with me, but dates back generations on both sides of my family.

My grandfather, Roland Chamblee, was deeply involved in civil rights and justice issues in South Bend, IN. Having served in WWII to return to a United States deep in racial discrimination and segregation, he spoke out against injustice and became one of South Bend’s first Black doctors. My grandmother, Dorothy Chamblee, was a soldier in her own right, and the two brought up six (often unruly – that’s right, I said it) children as best they could. My father’s father, Sercy Jones, died when my father was six years old. I heard of him as a preacher, a man who could move mountains with his sermons, and a man who cared deeply for people and the word of God. My grandmother, Mary Jones, was deeply involved in human and civil rights. She dedicated her time to raising five (also unruly!) children, serving the poor, and organized with the likes of Martin Luther King, Jr. to address racial injustice in her community.

My memories of my grandparents are too few in this life, but I will never lose what is already in my veins and spirit – their legacies. All of what I have has been given to me by my ancestors and family. I come from soldiers, doctors and healers of all sorts, preachers, advocates, lovers, and fighters. Above all, I come from a line of people who know how to love, teach, pray, and forgive – I come from lovers and healers of people.

I sometimes think that there is only a few ways for me to answer these calls – growing up, I often imagined myself back in the 1960s being a part of the Black Panther Movement, or marching with Harvey Milk for gay rights. I value such acts of bravery and selflessness, and may myself come to participate in similar movements in my time. But I also see that I can change unjust and oppressive systems right from where I am. Through writing, teaching my students, volunteering my time to my community, and showing up openly as a young, Black, and queer woman, I am answering that call in my own way.

My mother passed on her legacy of music, songwriting, and storytelling. My father gave me his quiet stoicism and introspection, which guides me above all else. (They also gave me some of my not-so-great tendencies and traits, but this is a gratitude blog!) What gifts will I give to my children and the world? I am still figuring that out as I decide which paths I will take, but what I know for sure is that my ancestors will continue to guide me along, for they paved those paths themselves.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 724

Posted on July 7, 2013 by mtchamblee

Tonight I am grateful for traveling mercies. My sister Sandy and I have returned safely from a family reunion from my father’s side of the family. It was a long weekend and a long trek of over 1200 miles and as we drove we received word that one of my aunts from my mother’s side of the family had died. I’d had no idea that she’d been seriously ill and the news hit me like a ton of bricks. Having just returned from a family reunion I was invigorated with questions I wanted to ask my aunt as one of two remaining elders in my family. Now that particular set of questions will go unanswered.

I would like to write a fitting tribute to my aunt in gratitude for who she was in my life, but I find that my thoughts are a bit scattered at the moment. So many memories come flooding in of my mother’s younger sister: scrabble games, cherries and church camp, a million-dollar smile and a genuine chuckle that would tickle your own funny bone til you couldn’t help laughing along with her. She’d also spank my little butt with a wooden spoon if things got out of hand, but more often than not she loved me up afterward.

I cannot adequately describe in this moment how grateful I am for my Aunt Jeanne; it’s still settling in that she’s gone. I am hopeful that in the days to come I’ll be better able to offer a coherent expression of my love for her and gratitude for who she was in my life. In the days ahead, many people whose lives she touched will offer wonderful tributes to her for all the work she did in her church, on behalf of the poor, during her time as a nurse, out in the community, and she was all that and much more. But to me she was a beloved aunt who, no matter how old I was or how big I got would still snuggle me and love me up and tell me everything would be alright. Aunt Jeanne did indeed have a million dollar smile. Tonight its brilliance is lighting up heaven.

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 723

Posted on July 6, 2013 by mtchamblee

Today has been another long, good, but exhausting day with my extended family. It has taken me a while to follow the threads of various cousins’ lives to determine how they are woven in with mine into the tapestry that is our family history. It’s been a lot of fun asking various people at today’s event how they are connected to the family and then watch as the three of us (my sister Sandy always part of the conversation) try to puzzle through to figure out how we’re related. I am grateful to be learning more about my family, who they were and how who they were “back in the day” helps inform who I am now.

Today my cousin John drove us around the town of Gainesville, Georgia where the roots of much of my father’s side of the family grow deeply. Like many African Americans in this country, I am descended from slaves. It is difficult to piece together one’s genealogy when families were separated and sold, merged, joined in unofficial marriages, adoptions and very, very little was written down. At ten years old, my great, great grandmother Philis was sold to a man named Roberts and transported–along with three other children, ages 9, 7, and 4–toHall County, Georgia. We know next to nothing right now about Philis’ life before that time and thus have no real way to trace our family lineage back far enough to know who her parents might have been.

Philis eventually bore 10 children, one of whom was my great grandfather. I am slowly piecing together various elements of his life. It feels a lot like delving into a mystery, following a few leads here and there, talking to people and gradually beginning to complete the picture. It is made that much more challenging because my father and all of his generation from his father’s line has died. Still, over the course of this weekend I am have gotten a few more clues not simply about who my family was, but also about life in general in and around Gainesville, Georgia. In some ways the history of slavery and segregation in the south is not at all far removed. My cousin John grew up going to segregated schools and enduring some of the daily indignities that African American people faced in the south in the 1950s and 60s. Things weren’t wonderful for my parents who grew up in the Midwest, but they were a bit better. Even my sister Sandy can remember as a child going with my parents to Nashville (where she and two of my siblings were born) to visit friends and going to sit in the balcony at the movie theater because Blacks weren’t allowed to sit on the main floor.

Today we held our family reunion barbecue at the Elks Club in Gainesville. Some of my youngest cousins–a handful of 10, 11, and 12 year old children had brought their suits to swim in the pool. When they got in and began swimming and playing, the white family–two parents and three or four children–all got out of the pool. After a time during which they watched for a bit, eventually the white people got back into the pool. It left some of the older members of the family shaking our heads and thinking that perhaps things hadn’t changed much in Gainesville, Georgia in 2013.

I am grateful for the time I’ve spent at the reunion this weekend. I will leave here having connected with family members I haven’t known before and with a few more pieces of the puzzle filled in. While there are still a number of gaps in the story, at least I know what questions I want to ponder next. I am not sure what instincts have driven me to want to know about where my family came from, where I came from; perhaps it is in some way connected to my ongoing search for “home.” Whatever the reason, I look forward to continuing the journey, expressing gratitude for each new discovery along the way.

A Chamblee Family Plot, Alta Vista Cemetery, Gainesville, Georgia

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Lessons in Gratitude Day 722

Posted on July 6, 2013 by mtchamblee

Tonight I am grateful for family. Of the many themes I’ve written about over these 700-plus days of writing, family ranks near the top among those about which I’ve written the most. Often I have written of my love and deep appreciation for my siblings and their partners, my children, and my parents who, though they are no longer a physical presence in my life are never far from my thoughts. Tonight, though, I want to write a little about my extended family, some of whom I am connecting with for the first time at a family reunion this weekend.

The theme of the reunion is, “Reconnect, Embrace, Flourish,” and the hope and expectation of the organizing committee is that we spend this weekend at the very least reconnecting (or for some of us connecting for the first time) and embracing. I suppose the flourishing will follow the first two. We participated in first official event this evening, meeting dozens of folks of all ages and learning a little of our history and connections to the family. The majority of the 75-plus people in the room were descended from one of ten children born to two former slaves who were my great-great grandparents. My sister Sandy and I are beginning to learn more and piece together various elements of our family story with the help of our cousin John, who like us is a of the descendants of one of the 10. It has been a fascinating journey.

From the time I was a child and was old enough to begin to think more deeply about family stuff, I used to pester my grandfather for stories of our people. I had always thought I would write a book about him and all our family some day. Somewhere along the line life intervened and I never started nor finished it. I remain determined that I am going to do it and continue to work doggedly yet inconsistently on our family tree.  Participating in this reunion and “reconnecting” with several of my cousins is adding fuel to this interest and determination. I have the will, now I have to find the way.

It has been a long day (nearly midnight now) so I will sign off. I am grateful to be making connections with family members whom I have not met. Of the dozens of people at this reunion, I’ve met only two of them. I am looking forward to getting to know them better and many others of this large, enthusiastic, wonderful family. I am part of them, they are part of me. I am excited to continue hearing the stories of our family lines and the various intersections at which we all meet. More to come…

Chamblee Family Reunion Banner

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