Chivalry Isn’t Dead May 5, 2018

Filed under: Uncategorized — Christina M @ 1:34 pm

I was listening to the Drew Mariani show on Relevant Radio, and he talked about a time when a barista took offense because he offered to buy someone’s coffee. The someone was a female. As is often the case, in the name of progress, someone took umbrage at a kind gesture. On the show, he talked a little about chivalry, and then posed: Is chivalry really dead? Do women really dislike having doors open for them, or having their date pay for dinner?

It occurs to me that chivalry really isn’t at all what we think it is. It’s not about subjugation. It’s not even about kindness. It’s about respect. Chivalry teaches respect.

There is no getting around it, men have opportunities women don’t have. Most men are taller, stronger, and better paid than most women. (I am not arguing that it’s ok. It is not ok for women to get paid less if they are doing the same job, and it is not ok for women to be passed over for raises or promotion, if they are equally qualified.) It is far too easy for men to lord it over women, It is also easy for men to become passive and cease to pay any attention to women’s abilities, needs, and personalities. That, of course, breeds selfishness and narcissism. And the narcissist is going to want women to pay attention only to his abilities, needs, and personality. When men don’t respect women, we open the door for a harmful level of self-centeredness in society. And if women don’t receive care, they will start relying only on themselves and caring for only themselves. I’ve said before that love isn’t give and take. It’s give and give. When it’s each partner for his/herself, it’s take and take. Which isn’t love at all, it’s just two people using each other.

The thing is, we all have potential fatal flaws, and some tend to be more present in men, and some tend to be more present in women. And, at the risk of sounding like I’m anti-man, I want to talk about men here.

Men often don’t know what’s going on in the world around them outside of their careers. Men like my Charming and Patient Husband have a lot on their plates. In the typical nuclear family, men are making a living 40 hours a week.  That’s a lot of hours to be away from the home. Right from the start, they have less opportunity for bonding, even with paternity leave, if Mom nurses. I applaud the families that have overcome that risk, but it’s not common enough. (Have I mentioned how awesome my son in law is?)

Disconnected men often don’t know what’s going on in their families. They aren’t there to see everything, and are often too tired to take over when they are home. even in my family, with my emphatically connected husband, “where’s the…” is always prefaced with “Mom?” They expect me to be the one who can locate things. (I tell them that if they would clean, they would know where everything is, but they don’t believe me. Again, that’s for another time!) It’s never “Dad? Where’s the tape?” or “Dad, can I go to my friend’s house?” As I hope I’ve made abundantly clear, it is not because my husband is a slacker, but because I’m the one they are most used to.

Now, imagine a world where men never care for women. Let’s say they are told never to do something for a woman, because it will offend, so they stop doing.  If they stop doing these things, they become less respectful and caring, not more. The phrase “Do unto others before they do unto you” has taken root in many homes. It makes husband and wife adversaries instead of partners. When a man feels unnecessary to anyone but himself, he will act unnecessary.

Chivalry fights that. Chivalry means a man opens the door, because he is reminded that he cares for women. Chivalry puts women and children first, because he is reminded that women and children are of tremendous value. Chivalry reminds a man that he is capable of being kind, helpful, and useful. And that he can reach that box on the top shelf at the store. Chivalry isn’t to take away a woman’s agency, it is to remind her, and himself, that she matters. Far too many women have lived lives where they were treated like they didn’t matter. Far too many women still do. If we want to get rid of disrespect for women, there are a lot of things we need to do. We need to teach boys that no means no. We need to teach men that fatherhood means Daddyhood. We need to prepare young women for careers, so that they know that they are able to support themselves; and so that their husbands know. We need to teach all children that we take care of those who are smaller or weaker. Having a cat is a great idea. And we need to teach boys and young man honor. That they do for others because it’s the honorable thing to do. And that honor is a defining characteristic. Honor means not putting yourself first, and without an opportunity to learn honorable behavior, men will skip out on parental responsibilities, take advantage of women, and fear a woman who is career-prepared.

Chivalry isn’t dead. I know because I married my knight. But the world needs a whole lot more of it.


What the Opthamologist Taught Me about Art May 21, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — Christina M @ 1:19 pm

A few months ago, just after my 50th birthday, I went for my biannual ophthalmology appointment. The doctor said, among other things, “Well, your cataracts aren’t progressing too quickly.”

Wait, cataracts?

The way she worded it revealed two things to me. 1: I had cataracts. 2: She had known it since at least six months ago. I asked the obvious, enlightened question: “Huh?” She looked at me quizzically and repeated the comment. “I didn’t know I had cataracts. I don’t think it was mentioned before…” Between the offhanded comment and the fact that the drops in my eyes prevented focus, I probably looked bewildered.

“Most people don’t like being reminded of their age.”

Fair enough assumption, I guess. It was a week after my fiftieth birthday. But I’ve never been bothered by the thought of growing old. Grey hair doesn’t bother me, and I’m rather pleased to see that mine is growing in silver. I love the idea of growing old with my husband and maybe even someday living alone with him in retirement. (I’m not counting my chickens on that one, since Curtain Climber was an after-40 baby.) I had a whopper of a surprise birthday party, with even most of my out of town family there. It was a good start to a promising decade.

It wasn’t until a month or two later that I found myself increasingly starting projects and not finishing. I don’t mean like starting a painting or a journal. I mean like learning a new skill. Taking a class. Keeping an art journal, starting a YouTube channel. And it wasn’t till two months later that I realized that my conviction that I didn’t really have a bucket list wasn’t accurate. I had one, it turns out. It’s just that it wasn’t about travel or parachuting. It was mostly about learning.  I want to learn to draw, and to use Adobe Illustrator. I want to learn how to organize my life and how to make a Coptic stitched journal. I want to take a class about  drawing faces, and a class about running a business, and on the side I want to learn watercolor and redstone design. It turns out there is just not enough time in the day, or even in the year, for all that I want to do right away. And ever since I hit 50, I have this frantic urge to do it all. I want to be a better me, and if I try to do all of these growing and learning things I will be in way over my head. If my idea of success is to accomplish all the things I want to accomplish, then I will surely fail.

If, however, my main goal is to praise God, I have time for it. I have time to honor Him whether it’s through formal prayer or through painting. I don’t have to do everything. I only have to do one thing, and let the rest serve as a tool in the quest to reach my Father’s house by nightfall. And I will be delighted to show up there with grey hair and wrinkles.


10 Reasons for Having a Big Family March 24, 2017

Filed under: Uncategorized — Christina M @ 8:52 am

My feelings about my family are in no way a statement about smaller families. Everyone has reasons for the ways their lives form, some of them by choice and some of them not by choice. Nevertheless, having a big family as worked out to be a very good choice for us. Here are 10 reasons.

1o. Children with siblings aren’t lonely. Even if they have social impairments, family is where you find friends for life. Friends may come and go, but family is forever.

9. Grandchildren. Many parents with one or two children never get grandchildren because one doesn’t want kids and the other can’t have them, or similar circumstances. The more kids, the more likely grandkids.

8. Thanksgiving. I can’t imagine Thanksgiving without a table-full. Kids playing, adults sharing, generations interacting. It is one of the most beautiful pictures I’ve had the good fortune to experience.

7. The economy. Yes, you read that right. Social Security is dying because older people are living longer… The working people are the ones who support Social Security. The children of today are the workers of tomorrow.

6. Children learn to parent when they come from a large family. The older children learn by watching and helping with the younger. The younger children learn by watching and helping with nieces and nephews. When these kids grow up and have children of their own, they are often more prepared and less fearful because they are already experienced with child care.

5. Compassion. Children who grow up around those younger and weaker (siblings, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc) they have the opportunity to learn empathy in a way that is, well, close to home.

4. Learning to make sacrifices. I know there are a lot of reasons for small families, but there is one reason I sometimes hear that worries me. Parents want to give their children everything. I don’t. I want my kids to learn to work for a living. I want them to work for their education or go straight into the workforce. I want my children to know, right from the start, that they are loved for who they are, but that doesn’t exempt them from contributing to home or community. I want them to know how to share. I want them to know how to accept that they will get some of what they want, but nobody gets everything they want.

3. There are more important things than money. My generation was raised to think that our career and our income is our value. I never accepted that. I believe our true value lies in our contribution and the things that give us joy. Money may bring some pleasures, but it does not buy joy. Love brings joy. In choosing a lifestyle, my husband and I have decided that molding our choices around our family is far more important than having luxury cars or new furniture. And as a result, our kids know that they are more important to us than things that can be bought.

2. We are making the world a better place. If you get the chance, and can handle some really vulgar language, see the movie Idiocracy. The premise is that all the smart people have avoided having children and all the dumb people reproduced recklessly, until society evolved into complete stupidity. It’s amusingly done, but also carries a thought provoking message. I am doing my share to put people into the world who are compassionate and educated, and who are motivated to work. It’s good for the economy, and it’s good for society. And if more people raise children with values, maybe we can avoid ever seeing a program like “Ow My Balls” on television.

1. People are good. I believe that. Their existence is worth it.


Why Art? January 25, 2016

Filed under: faith,learning to art — Christina M @ 2:11 pm

Lately I’ve been doing a whole lot more visual creating than writing. You can tell by the conspicuous lack of posts on Carmel Sundae. But for me, painting and art journaling and book binding have become almost a means of contemplative meditation, and one question keeps coming forward to me: why this obsession with art? Why do you feel drawn… why do you do it… why you, Christina?

And 45 different answers seem to emerge. One day it is because I want something to keep my hands busy, and to experience the tactile expression of feeling the friction of brush or pastel on paper. Another day it is because God is a creator and I am made in His image so I have a natural desire to create something. Another day it is because I am intrigued by some new technique or supply I’ve heard about and I can’t wait to try it. What it all boils down to is that there are many, overlapping reasons I draw, paint, and bury myself in this obsession.

What’s more, I have joined a number of groups and forums where I see other artists (dare I call myself that?) give reasons quite different from my own. And their reasons are just as valid as mine. One thing that I feared finding in the arts and crafts communities was exclusionary attitudes, and I have to say I’ve been relieved to find that such attitudes seem to be rare. Most people love sharing their craft with whoever wants to learn. Many have for-pay websites where they teach more formally, and I can’t find fault with someone who knows their bacon trying to earn it by doing what they love. I’m not in that position, but more power to those who are qualified or otherwise able to monetize. Me, I’m much more of a student than a teacher. Since I love being on a journey with fellow pilgrims, though, I invite others to join me on this travel. If you are more knowledgeable than me, feel free to contribute your voice of experience to the discussion. If you are just starting out, like I am, please feel free to learn with me and to ask questions. I love doing research, and if you ask something I don’t know, there’s a good chance I’ll be looking it up in short time.

Most of all, I want to encourage you to have courage. I believe we are all called to some form of creativity, and if you have even the remotest interest in visual art, don’t let self-doubt arguments stop you. Professional artists are not more “real” than those who finger paint with the kids on the kitchen table, any more than those who only draw in their private journal are more noble than those who exhibit their work in galleries. The fact is that even on the same pilgrimage, any two pilgrims are on their own journey even as they walk side by side. So professional, amateur, public, private, these things mean nothing. Whatever you do, do it with great love, and with God beside you, and you have nothing to be ashamed of.


Hanging Wallpaper August 5, 2015

Filed under: learning to art — Christina M @ 1:21 pm

Putting one of my paintings on the wall may bring a whole new meaning to hanging wallpaper. See, lately I’ve been experimenting with painting on wallpaper, and I absolutely love it! I have these books of wallpaper samples that I got for free when they expired, and they were just sitting there blinking sadly, begging to be used. As it turns out a little gesso makes them fabulously ready to take paint.

What I like about them is that they have a feel similar to canvas, but they don’t need stretched. They won’t warp like paper, and I can lay them flat or tape them to a board on an easel. Either way, I like them better than either canvas or paper for a lot of uses. With regular gesso, they are a good medium for acrylic paint. (I am hoping to try ink or watercolor later today when my latest batch of gesso-wallpaper dries.) With an extra toothy gesso, like the clear gesso I have, it’s very receptive to pastels. And today I tried applying gesso with a palette knife and I really like the result. It goes on very smooth and thick, with no brush strokes and only minimal knife strokes. I think this is the one I will try with watercolor. It uses a bit more gesso than my usual brush applications, but if it comes out velvety like I am hoping it will, it may end up being my new favorite.

Here is the knife-applied gesso, after a single coat. It’s half dry. The large darkish blob near the middle is a reflection of my head.

knife applied gesso





And here is one of my first two works to appear on Etsy, Entitled “Blue Child.” It is part of my Autism Series, and was painted on wallpaper.


I’m curious to know, has anyone else here tried wallpaper for painting? I would love to see your comments. (more…)


Five Things about Manna August 3, 2015

Filed under: faith — Christina M @ 12:40 pm

Some personal reflections about Manna and yesterday’s readings…

1. Manna is about trust. God keeps laying out the manna in my life, too. And I keep wanting to collect it up and save it till it rots, because stupid me, I keep forgetting to trust. What is it that is so hard-headed that I still worry that even though the sun has risen every day since creation, tomorrow it might not rise? And if it didn’t, how could I be so foolish as to think that there’s anything I could do about it?

2. Manna is about gratitude. God has already kept the Israelites alive until this point. But instead of praying to Him that they are hungry, they grumble that He is starving them. I’ve grumbled, too, so many times. Sometimes it’s not really about trust but about comfort.

3. Manna is about patience and forgiveness. God’s that is. They grumble, He provides. I guess He understood that they were still children in their faith, having been brought up in godful Egypt.

4. Manna, and the whole desert experience, is about slavery. It’s pablum to wean the child off of the infected mother’s milk of children who have never known freedom. Like the talking horses in The Horse and His Boy, they do not yet know how to run to their fullest power, because they are still inhibited by having been slaves. They are not yet ready for Everything, so God first teaches them that He will provide Everything. Depend on Him, and He will meet your needs in the way He chooses.

5. Manna is about complaining. Complaining is a special kind of tunnel vision in which we can easily get so wrapped up in criticizing God for what we don’t have that we forget to bless Him for what we have. The Israelites griped about having nothing but manna, even as they roasted their quail. It is awfully easy to get caught up in complaining to God that He doesn’t do things the way we dictate, rather than thanking Him for doing things according to His infinite love.  In the end, until we stop complaining about the manna, we aren’t ready to get to the milk and honey.

Forty years I endured that generation. I said to myself ‘They are a people whose hearts go astray and they do not know my ways. So I swore in my anger they will not enter into my rest.


Arts and Crafts August 1, 2015

Filed under: learning to art — Christina M @ 12:52 pm

I would like to go on record here as saying that I see very little difference between “art” and “craft.” Or at least, I would say it’s a very slight difference that is often used as a difference without distinction. I suppose by definition, craft is a skill that is learned to create something functional, where art might be perceived as purely decorative. In reality, however, the definitions don’t always work. A decorated canvas is usually seen as art, where a decorated gourd is seen as craft. Is the gourd necessarily useful, or is it purely for decoration? For that matter, is the canvas necessarily decorative?

In popular usage, I think the division is frequently more arbitrary. A three-dimensional thing is more likely to be “craft” unless it is sculpture. A thing that serves the same purpose whether it is beautiful or not might be craft once decorated. A flat piece, or a piece that has no inherent value besides the decorative value is likely viewed as “art.”

But my big concern here is that “art” and “craft” are terms that are subtly used to divide. “Art” is something we see as beyond the ability or scope of the common person. It might raise the esteem of the artist while intimidating the crafter. It also limits: the artist might never see beyond the scope of a given medium, often as taught by generations-old tradition, and a crafter might glue delightful collages but never find the courage to paint with oils.

Children don’t have that kind of limitation. They will probably name their school project with crayons art, but also the bottle covered with masking tape and shoe polish. Or maybe they will call them both craft; because it really doesn’t matter what you call it. What matters is the joy of creation and self-expression. What matters is that it came from that place deep inside that is so unique that no two people can produce the exact same results. It is an expression of sheer, undiluted personhood.

My Charming and Patient Husband considers himself neither artist nor crafter, yet like the child he makes little distinction. Art and craft are those things I do in that room at the end of the hall. Whether I am decorating a box or painting with watercolor, it’s all the same at its root: that desire to create, and to reach into creative personhood. Why is it that children and my husband get what people who are really close to the subject have difficulty with? Maybe it’s exactly that closeness. As we age, ego sometimes replaces what we know in our hearts. Sometimes we start needing to view “otherness” as somehow above or below us to assuage our growing insecurities. Whether we think we are too good or not good enough, it all comes from the same place: the concern for how others will see us. Increasingly aware of the fact that the world around us will judge us, we start wondering whether they are right to put us in our places. Maybe, we fear, our value really is determined by other people.

It isn’t.

Our value is determined by the personhood that is at the core of our being. It is from there that our creative urge swells and burbles, not from the court of public opinion. So if you want to call it art, or if you want to call it craft, go for it. The terms themselves can be useful as long as we don’t let them limit ourselves. Meanwhile, I’ve got something to gesso, and it’s anyone’s guess whether it’s an art or a craft.


Learning to Art July 19, 2015

Filed under: faith,learning to art — Christina M @ 2:10 pm

So in all this time that I’ve neglected you, you might wonder where I’ve been. Aside from being pretty busy with family, I’ve become consumed with a new passion. Art. More specifically, learning to art. You see, my daughter told me for years that anyone can learn art, and for years I didn’t believe her. Till one day I found myself obsessed with it. And I learned two things: one, I do not have natural talent. Some people do. I don’t. And that’s ok, because two, it’s true: it can be learned.

What I’m finding is that I dearly love the learning process. I am enjoying trying new things and following tutorials. I am really enjoying experimenting and following lessons. And I am loving trying new materials and getting my hands messy. I even sometimes like what I produce.

As I go through this learning process, I am beginning to realize I would really like to share the journey. I don’t have all the answers, and some of what I think  I’ve found will probably be wrong.  But I’ve come to believe that creativity is to share in God’s work of creation. Maybe the creative urge is part of what it means to be made in his image. So with that in mind, I have become convinced that art – with or without talent – is worthwhile. And if my faith is worth sharing, maybe so is my art, and my journey into its world.

I can’t wait to keep learning. I hope you’ll join me!


Runaways and Prodigals June 30, 2015

Filed under: faith — Christina M @ 9:57 am

I think we’ve all run away from something or someone at some point in our lives. Running away sometimes looks like a big, scary, life changing thing like a kid running away from home, or a spouse getting divorced. Sometimes, though, it’s less visible to the outside world. Maybe it’s a worshiper who stops going to church, or a friend who starts neglecting relationships.  Maybe it’s a retreat of a spouse into a hobby or non-communication, or an employee who stops trying.

It could even be a blogger who goes six months between posts.

And do you know what all of these scenarios have in common? A feeling of failure. Sure, there are other reasons for any of these things; but I contend that the single biggest reason for relationship breakdowns is a feeling of failure.  When the Prodigal Son was jealous of how well the pigs ate, he hit rock bottom and finally returned; but why did he take so long to return? Was it because his plan was working out so well? No, he didn’t want to go home and face his father and brother with his failure. For him to find, finally, the courage to return it took a realization that he had no other options.

Biblical parables reflect real life. Sometimes the only reason a spouse or a kid sticks around is because they have no other option. Sometimes the only reason a worshiper keeps going to church is because he or she feels there’s no choice. And having no choice is better than breaking up the foundation of marriage or faith, but it’s not the best way. The best way is to break the hold of the thing that makes the runner want to run. The best way is to help the runner stop feeling like a failure, or to prevent the runner from feeling that way in the first place.

I have a confession to make. I’ve run. I haven’t left my Charming and Patient Husband (and I have not wanted to, either.) But I’ve been terrible about church attendance. I’ve been terrible about maintaining friendships. I’ve been terrible about blogging. All of these things matter to me, and I’ve essentially run away because I felt like a failure. I have something to learn from them. I also have something to learn from the thing I haven’t ever felt like running from, my marriage.

What I have learned:

  • If you feel like a failure and you run away, you feel like a bigger failure. The longer you stay away the more of a failure you feel like. Bite the bullet and return.
  • If it’s an unsafe or unhealthy thing you’ve run from, don’t return. That’s not running, it’s rescue. (But don’t con yourself into thinking “I don’t like it, so it’s unhealthy.”)
  • Prayer and discernment are always helpful and healthy.
  • The key to staying on track with another person is making sure that other person knows that he or she is successful.
  • The key to staying on track with another person is making sure that other person knows that he or she is successful. That’s not an editing error. I repeated it because it’s that important.

A friend of mine once said “for every one negative thing you say, make sure you say five positive things.” That was some powerfully good advice, and it goes really well with helping to make the other people in your life feel successful. Or, I should say, know they are successful. Because if they feel successful in their relationships they probably are.  Tell your husband what he does right. Tell your wife what you appreciate about her. Let your kids know that you are proud of them, and why.

And finally, what if you are the one feeling like a failure? Go back. If you haven’t gone to Mass in a while, go back. If sitting with one foot in the water hasn’t motivated you sufficiently, put both feet in. And remember, God is with you. The Bible says “Pray without ceasing.” What better time to remember that than when we are struggling?


Thoughts about prayer December 1, 2014

Filed under: faith — Christina M @ 11:07 am

I was thinking today about worry, and all the things I worry about… and there were a lot. I’m a certified worrier. But then I think about all the things I’ve worried about that haven’t come to pass; and I realize that I don’t even remember what most of them were. Maybe they weren’t as important as I thought at the time that they were. And those that did come to pass? They didn’t destroy our life. And worrying didn’t stop them.

Prayer simply works better than worrying.

But… so far we are still talking just about earth prayer. Earth prayer is when I pray for my earthly needs, or my earthly concerns. Not all of them are “gimmes” but they are about the things that matter to me in this life, from the selfish (please let me get such and such) to the unselfish (please help me to be a better person) to the compassionate (please help the victims of the latest catastrophe.) But they are all about this life and its concerns. And there  is nothing wrong with praying for this life and its concerns. Bless my friend. Heal my child. I offer you this day, Lord. These are good prayers. They contact God and invite him into my life. They connect my life with the love of my Father.

They are probably the prayers Martha prayed. And she had a good lot; but Mary chose the better lot. Because she prayed a different kind of prayer, as well.

Mary didn’t just bring God into her world; she brought herself into God’s world. That’s what meditative and contemplative prayer are made of. When we stop looking at our world, and start looking at Christ’s.

My beloved is mine and I am his.

He pastures his flocks among the lilies.

A shepherd doesn’t plant lilies in the wild grazing pastures on faraway hills. He doesn’t plant them in enclosures where sheep normally live. He plants them in his very own garden, within the walls of his very own courtyard. Our Shepherd is inviting us to be fed at His own home. When our prayer is so stuck in the here and now that we forget to glance in the direction of His lilies, it is as though we didn’t even recognize that we are invited into His courtyard, on the very edge of Heaven itself. And we keep grazing away at the dried summer grasses on the wild hills, and begging our Shepherd to water us. Patiently, He leads us to still waters to drink; but all the while He is inviting us to taste the springs that flow from Paradise.

When you have a need, pray for that need. When you have a friend, pray for that friend. These are good, good prayers. But don’t forget to gaze at the Shepherd in His own garden, too. Don’t just invite Him into your world; accept His invitation into His, as well.