#Reverb 15 January -- my UNgoal

The Prompt: Ungoals | What are you so NOT doing this year? What's on your "I just can't care about that" list?

Well, I'd love to say that I am not going to have any more big medical issues this year, but that got blown to hell last week when we discovered that the sight in one eye -- my GOOD eye, vision-wise -- has deteriorated quite a bit. So I will be having an MRI to rule out brain tumors and strokes, and then we'll go from there. Meanwhile I am back on eye drops for the glaucoma. Not something you want to mess around with. My doctor is on top of it, though, and I'm grateful for that.

So instead I'm going to reiterate what I've been saying and mostly doing for the last couple of years: I am not spending time with people who I don't much like anyway, for whatever reasons, and I'm not doing things or participating in causes that I don't feel strongly, even passionately, about. I don't play games anymore with people. If you don't like what I am and what I believe, that's fine. We'll be done.

When you clean house, when you open the doors and declutter your house, literally or figuratively, it makes room for new, good things to come in and take root. I want more things like my wonderful reiki group, like our new drumming sessions. I want more gratitude and joy. I want to always see the glass as half-full.

#Reverb 14, Day 12

1. It all starts with kindness. Everything I have learnt, everyone I have interviewed, every word I have studied has guided me to this simple but profound conclusion: true happiness begins and ends with self-kindness.

No more guilt. No more shoulds. No more comparison.

And the very best way to give your weary soul some kindness at the end of this year? A love note.

Write a letter from you to you... filled with forgiveness, love, and a big bear hug.

2. Future self.  Write a letter to your future self, telling the future you about what you hope for you.'

Dearest Beth,
You are simply an amazing woman. Really. Your husband tells you that all the time, your daughters have told you that many times, in spite of all the past tensions and boundary-setting and arguments you've had with them, in spite of the times when you've sobbed over what you knew was likely the end of your relationship with them (and it hasn't been, so far anyway!).  

You've eased off that self-recrimination, that stupid little interior judge that pronounces you too fat, too mouthy, too lazy, too unhealthy, too -- well, you remember. That's GREAT. Keep it up in 2015, girlfriend. Let it goooooo....for good.  .

You overcame some really scary fears this year, didn't you, and you replaced them with light, and with kindness, and with energy, and you learned new tools and techniques to help you going forward. We know the fear can come back, but you don't have to let it be so paralyzing, so frightening. You know how to fight that blackness and fear, so continue to learn and practice and be positive. Take kindest care of yourself, your body, your health, your mind. You are the only YOU.

You've done better at doing things you want to do this year and not putting them off: do more of that, too. (This is not a dress rehearsal, sweetpea.) Have fun, go to events and places you are drawn to, do things you think you'd enjoy, play a lot more! Travel more: you're already planning some great trips to see friends and family and both new and old places. Embrace that with your whole heart and mind. Keep a journal of the trips so you remember the little things, the day-to-day things. You'll love doing it, you know.

Say thank you to the Universe every day, and say thank you to the people who matter to you. Send more cards. Write more letters. You are filled with so much gratitude -- share that with people who may need to receive it. Be generous with yourself and your loved ones, even more than you already are. You are so, so blessed!

What matters most is kindness, and you have been the recipient of much kindness this year. Do more. Be more. Love more. Live fully, as you've been learning to do. Forgive yourself -- you know, all those piddly little past memories that still occasionally come at you of things you think you did 'wrong'? You know who else remembers them? NO ONE. So let it goooooo. 

Be exactly who you are, Beth, not what you think someone expects you to be. You are enough. You are loved. You are funny and smart and wise. And yes, a smart-mouth sometimes, and yes, a little cynical sometimes. But that is who you ARE. You are unique, lovie. There is no one else like you in the Universe! Isn't that amazing? 

I love you, Beth. I love who you are becoming, every day, every month, every year. You aren't done yet! So get out there and LIVE, girl. 

All love and blessings to you, always --
Your Highest Self


 

 

#Reverb14, Day 11

1. What tiny rituals: signal that your day is starting; help you ease into a creative project; give you closure from an intensive task; or mark other significant milestones in your day? What new rituals would you like to create in the new year?

2.  Small Pleasures: What small pleasures did you discover this year?

Ritual becomes even more important in the aging process -- the little things, the order in which you accomplish routine tasks, the way you structure your day. You can call it routines or daily chores or whatever you want, but it takes the form of ritual. 

Wikipedia says "A ritual 'is a sequence of activities involving gestures, words, and objects, performed in a sequestered place, and performed according to set sequence.'" 

Disrupt our rituals, and it can discombobulate everything. I understand that much better nowadays, although we are still young enough not to go off into anxiety attacks about it. But it used to happen frequently with my mother in her later years, and I didn't quite get it then. 

Our beautiful mornings nearly always begin with Tony rising before I do.. He has his own morning rituals. When I get up, I open the blinds in bedroom and living room on the way to the kitchen where I put hot water into a mug along with an Irish Breakfast teabag (occasionally varying that with a cup of decaf coffee or a decaf Earl Grey), and then sit in my big green leather chair with my iPad and tea for 20-30 minutes, usually with McMurphy in my lap, loving on me. Tony fixes breakfast  -- eggs or cereal or oatmeal -- and we do our daily readings from two books we choose every year. And then the day begins to vary, depending on who's doing what.

I love that routine, that ritual. We do much the same when we travel in Sallie, our travel trailer. It is a buffer for me between the warmth of the bed and a dream world, and the necessities of the day. Once we close the books on the last reading, I'm ready to face the rest of the day. 

I would like to create a ritual around exercising in the new year, an almost automatic action of climbing on the bike and pedaling for half an hour. I don't do that consistently and I neeeeeeeed it. I also want my Tuesday and Thursday mornings to include yoga class again, where I get up from the breakfast table, shower and change into yoga clothing, and head out. I always feel so much better -- and so totally virtuous -- when I intentionally do something that helps my strength and stamina. 

I have always loved ritual, whether in the form of family tradition or more formal church ritual, and have written several to observe seasonal change, leavings and arrivings, and to celebrate friendships. I think even our little every day rituals bring some comfort and continuity to our lives and help us celebrate those moments.

2. Funny little prompt here -- small pleasures. 

One of the first that instantly came to mind is my little Pampered Chef microwave pots. I bought these during an RV show early in the year, but the first time I used them, in June, I loved them! They are covered saucepans that will easily hold and heat soup or casseroles, and for an RV trip, they are perfect -- lighter weight than Pyrex and more easily gripped. It was a silly little glow of pleasure, but I am so glad I have them.

Another little pleasure I discovered this year is the Kindle Paperwhite, the backlit e-reader. It goes easily into a purse, holds a charge for a long time, and I can read in the dark without disturbing my honey or anyone else. Although I still and always love the feel of a paper book, I have become a big fan of the Kindle, especially when paired with Kindle Unlimited -- another little pleasure of this year -- because I don't have to keep the book or store them -- and I have shelves and shelves of books. That's growing more important to me as I try to recycle or give away things that no longer suit me, and that includes some of my extensive library. 

While I found it several years ago now, the Thermos Hydration bottle is without a doubt the BEST water bottle ever. It stays cold, even icy, in temperatures exceeding 105, and doesn't sweat. We use them constantly and they always go with us when we are in the car. Every time I flip it open, I am grateful for this little treasure and the cold drink it offers. A small pleasure is sometimes the very best kind.

 

#Reverb 14, Day 10

1. Generosity is free of obligations; it opens the heart, and creates warmth and connection between the giver and receiver. When I cultivate generosity the holidays become something I look forward to sharing with my loved ones.

Look back at the last year and consider: how did generosity open your heart? How can you cultivate generosity in the coming year?

2. Leap of faith: What decision did you make this year that was a leap of faith?  Did it work out?  Or not?

 1. I was especially blessed this year with friends who said prayers and/or sent me reiki energy for my cardiac ablation at the end of August, and a group of local women who spent time with me in reiki sessions to boost my energy and calm my fears before the procedure. The result was miraculous: I was not afraid at all to go into this procedure, and indeed felt as though I was literally cushioned with love and prayers both before and after it. That generosity has continued and has had great results too, as I have been afib-free, at least as far as I can feel it, ever since -- nearly four months now. 

Because of that kindness and loving energy, I have been available when others have needed help or prayers for themselves or their loved ones, and have been lucky enough to participate in several hands-on sessions to help people who are frightened or worried, in addition to including them in my own daily prayers.

There are some wonderfully generous people in our community who inspire and challenge me to be more generous as well with my time, my gifts, and through prayers and actions. I am so grateful to those who have shown me such generosity, and their actions make me want to reciprocate, to pay it forward and also repay it. 

2. I feel a bit like a broken record when I talk so much about the ablation, but it truly was not only a huge step for me in overcoming long-standing fear and anxiety, but also required a huge leap of faith. Ablation does not always work: often the heart can heal the burns a little too well and the afib or flutter comes back, requiring a second procedure, and sometimes even a third. Some people have had multiple procedures without relief. 

While it can take the heart up to a year to truly heal, I have passed the first nearly four months without recurrence of either afib or flutter, at least as far as I can tell. As part of the three-month evaluation I wore a monitor for two weeks which is still being evaluated, and I expect to hear from my cardiologist/electrophysiologist soon about the findings -- but I feel positive about it. And I'd do it again if I needed to. 

Talk about needing to trust! A skilled team threads a tiny catheter up your femoral artery to your heart, pokes a hole in the heart to get to the left ventricle, and proceeds to burn tiny wounds around the pulmonary veins and other areas where they find afib, which interrupt the wonky electrical circuit that causes these problems. 

So far, so good. I am so grateful!

#Reverb 14, Day 8

1. The hectic pace of our lives can make it difficult to remain connected to the things and the people that matter the most to us. We get wrapped up in our work or our busyness and connection falls by the wayside. 

How have you created and/or sustained connections in your life this year?

2. Hero: Who was your hero this year? Tell us why. What makes a hero in your eyes?

1. This is a blessing of retirement, I think -- to be able to spend time when and how and with whom you want. And yet there are still friends I seldom see or talk to, not because I don't want the connection, but because we get caught up in routines and travel and simply don't follow through. 

Friendship requires intention to sustain no matter what age we are, or to what degree our 'busy-ness' takes over our lives. When I was younger, I still found time to be with friends, to write letters or call (since there was no email nor cell phones back in the olden days). Not sure how I did it, but I made the time because it was important to do so.

Facebook has been a wonderful way for me to maintain some connection with friends I don't see or talk with  ear-to-ear very often, to strengthen some familial ties that have never been strong because of great distance between our homes, and even to nurture friendships that are much more local. This year I got to see a cousin I hadn't seen in, oh, more than 40 years, in great part because of the connection we'd established through Facebook! I try not to be a nuisance by reposting too much stuff, but making my comments personal. By reading posts and seeing pictures, I can get a much better idea of what is going on in the lives of some friends, what they like and don't like, and learn a lot about them. That is fun and interesting, and I hope they feel the same way about what I post!

The new reiki study and practice group that I began attending early this year has been the best new connection, however, meeting monthly but often connecting more than that through a FB group and/or meeting for a reiki session. Most of the members are new friends for me, and I am loving getting to know them better both through our meetings and classes, but also through our FB group and their pages. 

Social media can be a total pain and too much of an obsession, but it also can really help build connections when used responsibly and honestly. 

I still like sending emails (seldom snail mail any more), though, and for the past several years have sent a brief email five days a week to a few family members and friends (added at their request) just to stay in touch and let them know I'm thinking of them every day. I always include a quote that either I need to hear or think they do. I don't expect a reply from any of them, but occasionally get a response that lets me know my correspondence is appreciated. It's sort of like a little prayer for each of them as I send it -- and it blesses me too. 

And I've gotten a few snail mail cards from friends and/or family too, non-birthday ones, that have made me feel loved and blessed. It may be old-fashioned, but there can be a real pleasure in re-reading a note or a card that sits on your table or desk. I'd like to be more intentional about sending those this next year.

2. While I hadn't thought of her as a 'hero,' I have a friend and teacher and neighbor who has been such a wonderful friend and mentor and teacher to me this year especially.  Jessie Woods is a local business owner (The Gold Exchange) who is usually at the forefront of any downtown business promotion, but also is an incredibly creative and generous person who gives her time, expertise, and money to charitable causes, and sponsors several of them. 

She is also a reiki master and my teacher, and has donated space for our reiki group to meet and practice. And she has been right there for me every time I have asked for help with healing mind or spirit, even when I know she has been busy with meetings and her own business. 

She puts her beliefs and words into generous and thoughtful actions in a way I've seldom seen. And her example makes me want to donate my money and energy to others, to be kind and available when I'm asked for help, and to live my own beliefs in a positive and helpful way.

I am so grateful for her example and presence in my life and in our town, and for her leadership and generosity in establishing our reiki study group. We are all blessed who participate in it, and who know her.  Jessie makes a difference in the lives of many people in our area, and she inspires me to be kinder, more generous, and to keep learning and growing. Thank you, my friend.

#Reverb 14, Day 6

1. Despite our usually sunny dispositions and dedication to the practice of “assuming positive intent,” we all occasionally find ourselves having to deal with an incredibly unpleasant individual.

While I’m sure you always handle it with the tact and finesse for which you’ve become so well known, I’m going to ask you to step outside yourself for just a moment.

Think back to such a situation: if the gloves were off, how you really would have liked to have dealt with them?

2. Money:  Where did you spend your money this year?  Did you save it instead?  What, if anything, would you like to do with your finances this year?

1. Just when you think you're making progress on creating boundaries and letting stress go, here comes this prompt, inviting us to let our inner tyrant out. Huh. 

I haven't really had a close encounter of the nasty kind for several years, partly because I make it a point to avoid putting myself in the paths of such people, and will leave a situation entirely if necessary. It is my experience that there are no winners here; that in fact responding with similar nastiness will only fan the already hot tempers that are burning up any semblance of reason. And I always react physically -- racing heartbeat, agitated mind, flushed face, and often with tears of rage. Yuk. 

 This is not a new topic for me. I wrote about a couple of instances where there was some really nasty behavior going on in our neighborhood: the first, and then the second, same people. Along with others, I walked out of the meeting, my parting shot to the 80+-year-old man who is still the nastiest person I have ever met being a heartfelt, snarled "F**K YOU." Not something I generally say in public.

As I said yesterday, the strongest statement is often silence, if you can stand it. It frustrates the angry person who wants to get a big, equally nasty reaction out of you. I've certainly been in a few situations where silence would have been taken for acquiescence, however, and I just *had* to open my mouth and say what I thought, which, of course, resulted in escalation of the whole thing to a new nasty high. There is no point in arguing with someone who is convinced that s/he is in the right about something. Walk out. Don't go back. Ever. If it's family, think long and hard about how much you want this person in your life, causing this much stress to you. Not every person who is related to you by blood can be classified 'family.' 

2. Moneymoneymoneymoney....We are so blessed in retirement to have enough to do what we want to do. Not wild spending spree nor diamonds and expensive car-type money, mind you. But enough to cover our needs and allow us to have fun.

We traveled this year in our little travel trailer, Sallie Forth, spending a couple of weeks in Oregon near Crater Lake, and then another three weeks in Washington state, visiting our daughter and enjoying the incredible beauty and majesty of the Olympic Peninsula and Mount Rainier. We took pictures. We ate good food. We spent time sitting by the ocean, and going to museums, and enjoying our campsites in beautiful surroundings. We had our inside kitties with us too, and that is always a joy. We will do more traveling in 2015. 

We are in the time of life to enjoy the fruits of our years of labor, and we are. There is a balance, of course, in spending retirement dollars because we don't want to overspend and have nothing left should we live longer than expected, but neither do we intend to pinch pennies so our children can enjoy our money when we no longer need it! Our new slogan is "If not now, when?"

 

  

Reverb 14: Lady Luck?

Luck | Is luck what you get?  Or is luck what you make?  When have you been lucky?  When did you create your own fortune?

In the play "Jake's Women," by Neil Simon, there is a character named Edith who is the title character's psychiatrist and a somewhat peppery, pull-no-punches one. She tells Jake, "We create our own destiny. There are always options."

Ever since I got to play Edith long ago in Birmingham, Ala., I have pretty much lived by that line, and more than once I have actively pursued an outcome that I wanted -- and succeeded in attaining it, although I will say that few things ever happen EXACTLY as you envision them. There always seem to be a few curves thrown in just because the Universe likes to watch.

Like Edith, I believe luck is what you make -- although that does not explain why some people seem to be able to walk into a casino, for instance, and walk out many dollars ahead, time after time. (I make an annual $20 donation to whatever tribe has the casino, it seems, and very rarely have I walked away with more than I left there.)

Luck is having the courage to walk through an open door that appears after you've already done a lot of excavation and exploration. Luck is risking your current rut, comfortable or not, for something that seems like it will work better for you at that time. Luck is making a phone call or applying for a job or going to a meeting where you know nobody, and finding that your life has changed in ways you would never have imagined.

Luck is not random, except in Bunco or, perhaps, in gambling games of chance. Then we call it luck, but there is nothing calculated or planned about it.

When I realized at almost age 50 that I did not want to look back at the end of my life and wonder 'what if...', I began to build a new life: I picked where I 'knew' I needed to be: California, near the ocean --and then began to work actively to make that move happen. I solicited advice and help from practically anyone in my company who might be able to help me do that, and eventually it paid off with a job offer in one of the San Francisco branches. There were glitches and heartaches and scary moments along the way, but I moved more than halfway across the country because I knew I had to do this.

Had I been told at that time, some 17 years ago, I would eventually live in a rural northern California community with the great love of my life (and a bunch of spoiled kitties)  in a house we designed and had built, I would have snorted in amusement. And total disbelief.

Yet here I am.

I created my own destiny, and was blessed to find someone (taking that risk of walking into something unknown) who also believed in creating his own destiny. We visualized what we wanted, and we worked hard to make it happen.

Until we get to the very end of our lives, until we are drawing our last breath, we can always create our own destiny....we always have options....Options. Thank you, Edith.
***********

I have always believed, and I still believe, that whatever good or bad fortune may come our way we can always give it meaning and transform it into something of value.
~ Hermann Hesse (Siddhartha)

February Reverb -- Ya gotta have heart

The prompt for February is, of course, about HEART.

Heart | Show us your heart.  Let it all hang out.  When have you thrown yourself into a challenge, or shown/received love?

One thing that is becoming more clear as I grow older is that my understanding, my appreciation and gratitude for certain things expands and deepens with age. Yeah, sort of like the fine wine thing, I suppose. And I have to believe it's good, even when it is scary.

Love for my children, for instance. Oh, when they're young and tender and so vulnerable and innocent, you love them more than anything in the world and would do anything to keep them safe. It is very hard to let that instinct go when they're old enough to make adult decisions and live with the consequences of those choices, especially when the consequences are just devastatingly harmful (from my perspective, anyway, and any person with half a brain could SEE that if they would just open their eyes and ears and LISTEN to their mother....)

((Excuse me.)) 

Watching that happen is scary-awful for a parent who has tried hard to be a responsible, loving, supportive parent. And. There. Is. NOTHING. You. Can. Do. To. FIX. ANYTHING. Which is even more scary-awful because you could fix anything once upon a time, remember?

I've had to do way more watching than I could ever have imagined. I have watched my children in situations that are light-years distant from any experience in my whole life, and I don't mean that in a good way. My heart has shredded itself with worry and fear and grief and anger and disgust. It has wept for days and weeks over things I cannot change for them. It has resolved to back off, to let it go to God, to put my focus on myself, which I work on every damned day, with some success, actually. But it still hurts with every new sad revelation, and I have to remind myself again that mine is the only life I can save.

Love for my spouse...spouse: such an impersonal word for the person who means more to me than anyone, whose opinion I value more than my own, whose heart I hold within my own heart. The relationship we have is  one I coveted for years as I watched the fairly rare couples who had it, and when my first marriage ended, I knew I would never settle for anything less, even if it meant being single for the rest of my life. Blessedly, the Universe threw us in each other's path very quickly, and we had enough sanity left to recognize what a miracle we had. It has only deepened and grown in the 16+ years since we met for the first time on a Pacifica beach. I am so grateful to be loved and cherished the way I am, and I am so blessed to have him to love and cherish back. There is not a day that ends without each of us expressing that love and gratitude to the other.

Love for life.  As I age, I am far more aware of just how very fragile we are physically, especially, and how a moment can change everything. That's come from a few accidents -- a badly broken wrist from a parking lot fall, a kidney full of blood from a rehearsal mishap --  and medical crises -- a gangrenous gall bladder discovered after three days of thinking the pain and fever were a heart attack, the death of a friend from a bad infection that didn't get medical attention quickly enough. My afib can cause a great deal of anxiety about my heart health -- although that is also tied up in that misdiagnosed heart attack from 12 years ago! Aches and pains and bumps and bruises can trigger intensive scrutiny: is that normal or is that indicative of something bad? Like many seniors, I am careful where I put my feet these days, and while we don't have the curse of icy surfaces out here, we do have uneven and rocky ground which can cause a stumble which can result in injury.

Balancing reasonable care with unsubstantiated fear is sometimes challenging for me. While we never know just when our number will turn up, it is a terrible thing to live a fearful life, afraid of some accident or illness that will end in our death. None of us is going to make it out of here alive, I understand that. But I also am not ready to let go of this wildly beautiful, unpredictable experience called life. So I try to stay healthy, go for checkups, eat healthy foods (with daily treats, but not big, horrible, heart-attack-on-a-plate ones), and move this body in some kind of exercise every day, even if it is just parking the car a bit further from the grocery store doors for more of a walk. I want time, more time, with my honey, with my kitties. More time to read and write and listen and watch and enjoy and be grateful. More time to expand my heart, to do things that bring me joy. And not to be overly anxious.

Love for others. I don't think any of my friends is going to call me a social butterfly. I am by nature an introvert, but I can function well in extrovert mode for a time (and then I want to come home, sit in my chair, sip tea, pet a cat, and think about the social experience I just had). I am a very loyal person: it takes some time to cultivate a friendship, a good friendship, but I don't let go of it either, sometimes holding onto it past the time to let it go. (That is unless I am lied to or given reason to distrust a person, and then we're done.)

Nonetheless, I have a handful of dear, trusted friends who I treasure deeply, even those I don't get to see face-to-face very often. I have more acquaintances, people who I know and like, but we haven't grown to be close yet, or maybe never; but just a few truly close friends.

I wasdeeply touched and humbled during my surgical recovery time last year by the friends who brought meals, who sent cards or called, who sat with Tony in the waiting room, who visited me at home while I was non-weight-bearing and pretty much confined to home. I felt blessed and grateful that they cared enough to help, and came away resolved to offer help to others, although I don't know that I've done a very good job of that this year.

Likewise, I was humbled and oh so grateful to the friends who found household things to give to R just recently as she moved into a new place following a horrific domestic abuse and violence experience, where she just left one day with a suitcase and her cats, leaving furniture, treasures, clothing, and household furnishings behind. Within a week she was in a safe place and had everything she needed, and we found thrifted, nice furniture for amazingly low prices too. That these generous friends responded so quickly and lovingly was yet another sign for me that angels are indeed among us, and that I am blessed to know several of them.

I understand more now how rare this kind of friendship is, how much effort it takes from both people to grow it, and how much it can mean as we age. More of that, please: a challenge for myself.

Love for oneself.  Perhaps this is the hardest of all: to love who we are, warts and all, insecurities, ugly thoughts, body and personality flaws, and all the negative thinking that accompanies it. While I am never going to be thin, an executive career woman, rich, stylish, a tireless volunteer for good causes, or even a best-selling writer or actress or speaker, I am still a person worthy of love and beauty and kindness. I forgive myself for things in my past, some of which only I still remember. I forgive myself for not being perfect. I forgive myself for unkindness -- which also extends to me -- and resolve to keep kindness in my thoughts and words, despite the sometimes overwhelming urge to be sarcastic and snippy and negative just because I am good at it.

As I age, I want to be positive-thinking, generous in spirit, and most of all, kind. A kind word can mean more than its speaker can ever imagine. I want to make this my daily spiritual practice: kindness both to myself and to others.

But likewise, I want to give myself permission to walk away from negative people and situations, from people or situations who make the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up, from anything that makes the little alarm bells go off in my head and in my gut. Without apology. Without regret. Just walk away.

This life is too short  to do things that make me feel compromised or unsettled or to be with people who don't like me and who make me question things I know to be true. No more. Not now, not ever.

I am worth kindness. I am worth love and self-respect. I am a good, ethical person. And I do not need to compromise who I am for anyone.

This is true heart. This is being true to my heart and my soul.

Reverb 13: Day 13: Community and favorite things

1. The phrase “It takes a village” is often bandied about, in reference to child-rearing, running a business, just about everything. But if you’re anything like me, you may not be a natural born collaborator.

In 2014, how could you explore what community means to you?

It might be a question of sharing the load, asking for help or signing on someone with a complementary skill set. Or it could be about a creative collaboration that pushes you to explore new ideas and media.

Where might the alchemy be?

2. Favorite things | Give us a list of your favorite things from 2013.  Could be material items, food, people, anything!

1. I don't know that I am a natural collaborator although I certainly did and can work with others on a project. I am not good at asking for help, not necessarily because I think I can do it better, but because I don't want to inconvenience anyone. And yes, okay, sometimes I DO think I can do it better, or at the least, get it done when I want it done and how I want it done.  This is not an especially good trait, mind you. 

One of the humbling facts of aging is that there are times when we DO need help. While I'm still a very stubborn I-can-do-it-just-fine-thank-you-very-much kind of person, I am beginning to ask for help in some cases. Sometimes I want affirmation that my instincts are valid. Sometimes I want clarification or suggestions for direction. Sometimes I simply cannot do something and need a physical boost. I'm learning to ask.

I have expressed in these pages my desire to be part of a spiritual community, however, and there is an opportunity coming in January. If the mix of people and purpose is right -- and we won't know until we actually meet -- it could be the group I have been asking for, one that will explore creative community within a spiritual context. I want to approach this with an open, beginner's mind and see where it leads. And I am so grateful to be included in the initial stages!

2. Favorite things. I've already mentioned my favorite places: our great room lit by the minilights above the glowing woodstove, with Tony and the kitties all right there; and in our bed, also with kitties, every night. Any ocean beach is simply divine too. 

I love my heated mattress pad in the winter. I love organic cotton sheets on the bed, but I also love flannel sheets when it's cold. 

I love Alegria shoes, all of them. They perfectly support my arches and reconstructed foot, they are cute and funky and comfortable, with patterns or plain to suit my every mood and outfit.

I love  Amerileather patchwork purses. They make me smile.

Hot biscuits dripping with real butter and honey is pure comfort. 

I adore my husband. I am so grateful we are together in all things.

My favorite book was Anne Lamott's "Help, Thanks, Wow," which is enlightening and comforting when I'm beset with ice weasels. I read a lot of books this year and liked some of them very much, but this one speaks to my heart and soul.

I wear the same jewelry most of the time: rings, bracelets, all very meaningful to me. But I recently had made  a silver filigree sideways angel wing necklace with a pretty chain that reminds me I am constantly surrounded with light and love.  

I am grateful that I can see, hear, walk, speak, and understand, and that I am safe and loved, and that we have enough of everything. These are the best gifts of all. 

 

 

Once in a Blue August Moon: Day 6 -- Zeniths and Nadirs

The prompt: The zeniths and the nadirs. Where have the highlights and low points been for you so far in 2013? Where are you now? How would you like your year to end?

Actually, you'd think I was on antidepressants (I'm not): I haven't had moments of great joy nor of great sorrow this year, and I'm oh so good with that continuing.

I have had moments of tremendous gratitude, like when I came out of the anesthetic after surgery, gasping and sleepy, but so glad I was awake and alive and all right.

Quiet and all-encompassing feelings of gratitude and enormous contentment at very ordinary things, like sitting with my honey and kitties, watching a favorite television show, in a darkened great room with woodstove firelight flickering; tiny white lights high above the stove in a built-in alcove silhouetting the angels I have sitting there, some from my mother including one painted by one of her close friends (both of them now dead), another from a wonderful former client, and all watchful and comforting.

Pleasure at attending a live theater performance -- we don't miss many, if any -- from the Cascade Theatre or Riverfront Playhouse or Shasta College in Redding. The variety of plays and talent is broad: some are fun because the cast members try so hard; others are memorable because the acting is so professional; others reflect such amazing talent in the script. Occasionally, as in "The Women of Lockerbie" which we saw yesterday at Riverfront, and "Fiddler on the Roof" at the Cascade a few months ago, both outstanding script and exceptionally talented cast combine for an unforgettable and stunning performance. I love watching live theater. I love being on stage in an amazing play even more, but those roles don't come often.

I've found little delights in mundane things: wearing a fun pair of comfortable shoes that make me smile every time I look at them. Savoring a piece of really delicious pie with good friends. Feeling sleek and stylish every time I get my hair cut in the precise, angled style I am wearing, greys and whites gleaming in the salon light, and swinging neatly as I walk. Stretching and moving in the dim yoga studio, imagining the muscles and ligaments easing into the familiar positions, and the spiritual grace of 'namaste' we offer at the close of the session. Loving the gleam of clean floors and fixtures after my friend has worked her magic on my house.

Clean, soft sheets every week and the cool green bedroom where we sleep every night, holding hands as we drift off. Reaching to touch my honey in the night, just grateful he is there and breathing.

Anticipation at traveling in our new-to-us travel trailer with our beloved kitties coming along rather than being left at home or in a kennel where they are frightened and surly because they are not with us -- and the comfort we all feel at being together in bed every night. The prospect of spending more than a week beside our mighty-mighty ocean in several campgrounds, reveling in the crash of waves, the salt air, the age-old power that emanates from its depths and stills our souls and minds.

There are low points as well, but far fewer.

Moments of frustration and apprehension: learning that I would have to have a general anesthetic rather than a twilight one just before I went into the OR. 

Times of worry and fear for a loved one who seems to repeat the same patterns without ever learning the lessons that I see so clearly. Ongoing grief for the loss of what might have been, and reluctant distrust in what I am being told and not told.

Anxiety and fear during episodes of afib that seem to occur approximately monthly, although they nearly always revert spontaneously within a few hours to a steady sinus rhythm. (And such gratitude that they do.)

Where am I now? I work daily on gratitude and calm and energy, focusing the energy where I need it most at that moment. I know that nothing is permanent; everything changes, and that the good (which I try to savor as it happens) will pass away as well as the not-good. I am grateful to be who and where I am, and overwhelmingly grateful that I am loved so dearly and deeply by a man who I love just as dearly and deeply. That is THE BEST of my life.

By the end of the year? More joy. More things that make me smile and feel happy. Any health apprehensions addressed and resolved, or at least treated. More awareness of how great a gift life is EVERY SINGLE DAY. More writing. More decluttering of stuff. More spirit.

Amen.

Once in a Blue August Moon 13: Day 4 -- The Word

The prompt: What word did you choose as your travelling companion in 2013? How is it working for you? Where have the surprises been? If you didn’t choose a guiding word, what word sums up your year so far? And why?

I didn't so much choose the word as it chose me. Really, given the surgery I had at the end of December and the painful walking that I experienced most of last year, clearly the word for 2013 had to be 'Recovery.'

I expected it to be primarily about my physical recovery. I'd had a triple arthrodesis -- a fusing of the three primary joints in my ankle -- and from all the research I'd done, I knew recovery could take up to a year. My energy teacher, Jessie, told me it would take four to six months. My focus was to follow doctor's orders, healing energy work, and doing all I could do.

By Feb. 20, slightly less than eight weeks post surgery, I was in a walking boot. Less than two weeks later, the doc told me I could transition into a shoe whenever I was ready, and I began physical therapy a week later, clinging to my walker. Physical therapy was wonderful: the therapists helped me rebuild strength, I continued to focus healing energy into that leg and throughout my body, and in no time I had graduated to walking with a cane and in my wonderful Alegria shoes. By the last PT appointment at about 18 weeks post surgery, I used the cane only on unsteady ground or to help keep some distance between me and others in crowded places. Today I go pretty much anywhere, although if I'm walking on a trail or land, I want a walking stick. While there is still some numbness in my toes and along the outer edge of my foot, I walk better than I have in a long time. My energy is good. My attitude is positive.

What surprised me is that the level of recovery went so very much deeper. Enforced rest and non-weight-bearing gave me time to think and reflect on what I'd been doing, what made me happy, what made me feel anxious and tense. I didn't do things I'd previously taken on through my admittedly overdeveloped sense of commitment because I couldn't do them physically, and for those things I could not back out of, I found other ways to handle them, unexpectedly freeing me from a lot of that false responsibility for someone else's actions/choices that I'd assumed. Nope, I can't pick you up from the hospital. Nope, I can't bring you a check today. No, I am no longer able to serve in that position. Nope, nope, NO.

Somewhere in all that time, I decided that I am not going to do things that I don't feel passionate about. I am not going to spend my time with people I don't enjoy being with, or who make me feel less than. I am going to take care of me first, not second or last. I will do more of what makes me happy. If I feel tense or angry or taken advantage of, I'm out. My focus is on saving the only life, living the only life that I can -- mine.

What a gift, this recovery! Those choices have not closed me off, they have opened me up to possibilities, to fully enjoying and participating and caring, and to new ways of being, more fulfilling, to a more generous life.  I no longer feel anxious and angry and tense (well, hardly ever), and I know how to work with those feelings when they do surface.

I'm not recovered. I am recovering, just like an alcoholic who stops drinking but knows s/he is only one drink away from relapse. It is a process that requires daily attention and intention, this living joyfully stuff. If I don't work with my body and my foot, I will relapse into laziness and pain. If I don't work with my mind, I will relapse into old, long-practiced behaviors.

I like where I am too much to stop working on this recovery thing.

Once in a Blue August Moon 13, Day 3. Gratitude. Oh MY!

The prompt: Sometimes we get too caught up with life's circumstances. Count the blessings you've had to be grateful for this year.

So. Much. Gratitude.

For my husband especially. For loyal and loving friends who nurture and support and love and call me even when I am being all hermit-y. For my surgeon and his amazing skill in reconstructing my foot. For Jessie, who taught me how to use my energy and all the abundant energy that is in this beautiful earth to help heal my attitude, calm my fears, empower my intentions, manifest my ongoing recovery -- and not just for the foot, either, but in relationships and attitude and belief. Thank you so much. For my therapists who encouraged and pushed a bit, but always with positivity. Did I mention my husband? (love love love)

For having 'enough' of everything we need. For the memories of when times were tougher. For our four-legged furry 'children' who love us and who are always there to comfort, to amuse, to delight in, to appreciate. For time to play and books to read and cute shoes that are comfortable to walk in. For  waking up each morning and being able to get out of bed, without pain or difficulty. For the ability to taste and enjoy the bounty from gardens and orchards, and to create and cook meals in a kitchen I designed. For medical tests that come back 'normal.' For my eyes and ears, to be able to read and see and listen. For the deer who visit our yard regularly and bring their still-spotted babies with them, knowing they are safe here. For the finches and hummingbirds and nuthatches and jays and doves and a myriad of LBBs who frequent our bird feeders and splash dusty feathers in shallow water-filled saucers, and give us so much pleasure to see and hear every single day. Oh, and for my husband, the generous, loving, attentive, slightly stubborn love of my life that he is. Did I say that already?

For things that work when you need or want them -- cars, computers, appliances, televisions -- and for people who fix them when they don't. For the values and principles and loving relationships that I grew up with, for parents who read to me and encouraged me to read and to create and to play, and who taught me that the most awful truth is better than the smallest lie. For my brother, my playmate, my friend, the one person still living who remembers the long-ago things I do, and for his wonderful soulmate spouse who adores the quicksand he walks on and still manages to be talented, funny, creative, and very wise herself.

For my children, even with the very difficult lessons you have taught me, primary of which is that there is only one life I can save, and it isn't yours (god knows I tried, though). Thank you for the opportunity to be your mom, your advisor and teacher, and sometimes your friend. Thank you for some amazing insights and memorable events, for great joy and even for almost paralyzing fear. I will always love you dearly, no matter what your journey may be, and I am grateful for the lesson to let go and let God (one I often practice, mind you).

For kindness, especially unexpected kindness, both experienced and witnessed. As I grow older, my daily intention is becoming more and more to be kind -- with words, with actions, with myself, with expectations, with outcomes. In the midst of so much busy-ness and preoccupation with doing and going and getting that I see from most people in stores and restaurants, it is a huge relief to consciously relax my body and put a smile on my face and not be in a hurry to be first or get the most. It surprises clerks and wait staff and receptionists and nurses and aides, and I can see them relax too. Kindness is a huge gift to everyone, but especially to oneself.

Every day I am grateful. Anne Lamott wrote about the three great prayers in her book Help, Thanks, Wow, a book I re-read often. I am convinced that gratitude is the key to living a happy, good life, no matter what your circumstances, for without it, you appreciate nothing.

 Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.

Scintilla#13, Day 14

So I'm a couple of days behind the scheduled prompts, but I'm not the only one. And they're really timeless anyway. So here we go:

1. Talk about a time when you were younger and you embarrassed your parents in public, the one that still shames you.

2. We exert control over ourselves and others in many ways. Talk about a time when you lost that control. This can go beyond the obvious emotional control into things like willpower, tidiness, self-discipline, physical prowess - any time that you felt your autonomy slipping away.

I was pretty much the child who did what she was expected to do. While I probably embarrassed my parents, nothing immediately springs to mind, nor am I still cringing over anything.

On to #2.

Who doesn't struggle with will power? Or perhaps we should call it won't power; "I won't eat that dessert. I won't eat candy. I won't take that drink. I won't smoke another cigarette."

Uh huh. I've been there many times over the years. Lost a few, won a few. I suspect some battles will continue the rest of my life, or at least until I don't care any more.

But let's talk about physical ability this time. I've had a few surgeries that kept me quiet and hampered my abilities, but I always found a workaround that allowed me to continue functioning. When I broke my elbow in 1972 and couldn't do much with my hair, I got an easy haircut that I could blow-dry with one hand, one that turned out actually to be one of the best styles I've worn. When I was tethered to a wound-vac in 2002 and couldn't go anywhere, I ordered groceries online and had them delivered. When I broke my right wrist in 2010, I learned to use my left hand to eat and to use the computer, and was still able to cook one-handed.

This last time, though, I was totally non-weight bearing. And older. I needed help to bathe. I was pretty useless in the kitchen other than sharing information. I couldn't go outside to feed kitties -- I couldn't even carry their dishes of food. I was mostly dependent upon my husband for the eight weeks I was in a cast and had to be totally off my feet. And I've never been dependent on anyone for very long.

My wonderful husband took over all the tasks I usually did, including cooking which he hadn't done since we've been together. He fed kitties. He shuffled dirty clothes into the laundry room and into the washer, although I was able to help some with that task and could at least fold clean clothes. He made lists and went to the grocery store and to WalMart -- both places he has tried to avoid going for years -- and never complained. He made sure I had water and the phone and the TV remote within reach, and retrieved mail and papers every day. And the biggie: he faithfully emptied the bedside commode (that was such an enormous help) every day, without complaint or comment. I am so grateful for him!

I had to learn to just BE, not DO. I had to give up the guilt about not doing 'my' chores, about putting so much on him. I had to learn to focus on me and my recovery, and to keep a positive attitude. And I did; so much so that I don't want to revert to doing-doing-doing stuff now that I'm back on my feet and generally mobile. And that's a good thing.

 I want to be one of those senior-senior citizens who is reasonably well and mobile right up until the day I wake up dead. I don't want to be bed-ridden and dependent upon others for basic life skills, not my husband, not my children, not on anyone. And with nearly three weeks of physical therapy now under my belt, I am discovering what a huge difference strengthening exercises have made in my body, my ability to walk unassisted, and my attitude. So as much as I have hated going to gyms and doing 'work-outs' in the past (yoga being the one exception), I am going to continue going regularly to the gym after the PT is over so that I continue to build on the strength and balance that I have achieved so far. It is finally clear to me that I must....MUST...take responsibility for my physical shape if I want to continue to be mobile and independent for the rest of my life.

Over the years that physical ability has lessened: once upon a time I could skip, dance for hours, jump, and shop without pain or limitations. I can't do that now. But I can keep what strength and ability I have recovered if I continue to exercise and tend it. That is another huge lesson that has come from this surgery and recovery.

"Once in a while you get shown the light
In the strangest of places if you look at it right." ~ Scarlet Begonias, Jerry Garcia/Robert Hunter.

Same old, same old ... sorta

I'm still spending a lot of time reading with my foot up, but last week I graduated to a cam walker boot and am now lurching from room to room using a walker.

Nothing like a walker tricked out with a basket in front and glides on the rear legs to make you feel old.

But it helps me with balance and to ease the stress of putting weight on a foot that's been screwed and glued back together, and that hasn't had weight on it for two months. The leg looks better than it did a week ago, when it was all flakey skin and emaciated muscle and bloody steristrips, but bearing weight causes some redness and swelling -- something the doc said is needed for the bone to heal well -- and some discomfort -- even downright pain, especially on the side and heel. Tylenol takes care of it pretty well.

I don't know how long I'll be in it, but suspect it'll be at least another two or three weeks minimum. I'm most afraid of falls at this point, so am very careful where I put my feet.

We take a lot for granted when we're younger, don't we -- skipping about on heels and flimsy sandals, thinking little about walking in fashionable boots on icy sidewalks, going barefooted outside and in. Time was when I jumped rope and skipped and danced and tromped around on uneven rocks and ground, generally fearless. No more, although I'm not quite sure when that left me. I suppose that's another sign of aging, that awareness of how damaging a fall can be.

At any rate, I'm in another phase of healing, and still am grateful for how well the foot has healed, how little desire I have to resume life as I was living it before the surgery, and how free I am feeling to do things that I want to do, like reading and watching movies. I still feel very positive about the outcome and am grateful to all the friends who have helped us in this process.

*****************
So I'm still reading. Lots of beach-type reading, actually -- nothing in this group would classify as literary fiction. Most were either free or under $3. The Kindle Deal of the Day can be pretty good, as can the list of top Kindle books under $3 or the top 100 free books.

The Witch's Daughter was not as good as I'd have liked it to be. It switches back and forth from present day to the character's past, and I could easily put it down. (A 2.99 pricetag when I bought it.)

The Rose Garden was also fairly predictable, although mostly entertaining. Some time travel in this one, but not a compelling read. (99 cents when i got it.)

The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane was a bit more engrossing and included a bunch of Salem witch trial history. Price was definitely right at $2.99.

The Fortune Quilt was sort of fun, and it was a Kindle freebie at the time. (Kindle owning friends -- I can lend this one. Let me know.) I liked  the vivid descriptions of the little Arizona town and some of the plot twists.

Firefly Beach was iffy. I know it had a lot of favorable reviews, but I thought it was too heavy on the narrative and rather stilted on the slightly paranormal aspect. The time frame was unrealistic and many plot elements stretched belief to the point of breaking. I can lend it, but am glad it was on the free list and that I didn't pay for it.

The Blue Tail (a gift) and The Fish Wife (lent to me) were both paperback books, and I just loved them. The Blue Tail includes poetry by Mary Oliver and is set mostly in Bandon, Oregon -- one of my favorite coastal places -- and is about a teenager understanding and accepting her heritage and worth. What was not to love!

 The Fish Wife is a fantasy-filled story that takes the reader from misty Ireland to the desert Southwest, and enchantingly fills in the story of the Old Mermaids in the desert. It was a quick read and lovely. The author has a great ear for dialogue and I loved that I could 'hear' the characters tell the story.

I've got several other freebies loaded on the Kindle, and am reading one now that was recommended to me by a blog reader: The Accidental Peacemaker. Being the bargain hunger that I am (and realizing that not only is this a first-time novelist, the book is also self-published), I could not see paying $10, but I was able to use the Amazon Prime Library to borrow it!

It's kind of all over the place with a LOT of detailed location description (I could drive to most places mentioned from the directions), a plot that is interesting but that goes into a lot of directions: is it an action thriller about local militias and Muslim training camps? A romance between middle-aged people? A finding-oneself introspective novel? A guide to fishing in Oregon? A self-help how-to book on meditation? Huh. I'm still reading it but have NO idea where it's going.

I'll give you the lowdown when I'm finished with it.

**************

I'm also sort of doing an e-class on being a Spiritual Nomad. Sort of, because I'm not actually DOING a lot of the exercises, although I'm THINKING them through and that in itself is an interesting process. Tony and I have talked through some of the projects too, which has made for some good conversation. I understand how I got to where I am spiritually (at least better) and the influences on my spiritual life, and even did a Guru board on Pinterest, which was sort of fun and revealing. I suspect I'll come back to some of the lessons and contemplate or even perform some of the tasks a little more thoroughly.

What I'm understanding, though, is what I pretty much knew: I miss having a community of like-minded people to interact with on a regular basis, to celebrate ritual events with, to sing and celebrate with. My beliefs are not easily categorized into a denomination or even a 'religion,' but are based in a belief in a higher power and a strong ethical belief system.

It's been good for me, though, and it fits with all the gratitude and energy work I've been doing. Cultivating that positive outlook and enjoying where I am is a huge gift.

************

Movies and television! We've seen a bunch over the last two-plus months. Just watched the Showtime documentary "History of the Eagles,' about the 1970s-present day band, and loved seeing how they evolved and changed, and hearing the music again.  Loved 'The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel' with an older ensemble cast. I've seen several unremarkable ones that were fun and entertaining but nothing I'd go out of my way to see, too. We continue to enjoy several regular series, including Enlightened, Californication (!!!), Shameless, and House of Lies currently on HBO and Showtime, and Person of Interest and Scandal on network TV. I also watch Grey's Anatomy, Smash, The New Normal, and Monday Mornings, and try to catch Glee (although this year has been disappointing). We've sampled The Americans (still evaluating), The Following, and Banshee (and removed those two from our list). With TV schedules bringing in new shows far more often, that list will change over the next few months, I'm sure.

And that's where I am.

Reverb11 - Day 9 -- Disappointment and Music

#1 - Disappointment - What was the one disappointment that has turned out to be a blessing in the last 12 months? How will this affect how you deal with disappointment in the future?

#2 - Music:  What song did you fall in love with this year? Was it an entire album? Did you listen to it on repeat? Share you relationship with the song and what it meant to you + made you feel

#1 --  Honestly, I don't remember a disappointment this year that was in fact a blessing, although I remember a bunch of disappointments.

The disappointment I DO remember best that turned out like this was 14 years ago when I was looking for a place to live in the SF Bay area, most especially somewhere on the coast because I wanted to be close to the ocean. On a long weekend visit from Birmingham, Ala., I'd searched for houses and apartments in Pacifica, Moss Beach, El Granada, Montara. That was during the height of the dot-com boom, and housing was spendy and hard to find, and I had a definite budget.

I found one, a big apartment in the back of a house that was surrounded by fragrant eucalyptus trees and even had a glimpse of the ocean. I wanted that house. And I didn't get it and was so devastated by that. What I did get was a sight-unseen one-bedroom  in a 12-unit building (the tenant was moving out but it couldn't be shown) with a big window that faced the ocean. As it turned out, that place was three blocks from where Tony, who I did not know existed, had just moved. Yeah, we 'might' have met if I'd gotten the other place, but not like we did -- a quick phone call and a walk down the street to the beach steps. What a  life-changing blessing that was!

When I am disappointed now, I try to just let it roll and trust that things will work out the way they should. We don't always see reasons for disappointments until long after they have happened. (And there are some I'm still waiting to discover...)

#2 -- Much as I love music, I don't think I discovered anything 'new' this year. When I listen, which honestly is mostly either in the car or in the dental chair (thank god for ipods and valium), I choose from the eclectic mix that I love: from Grateful Dead to John Rutter choral to the Organ Symphony by Saint-Saens to ABBA. Right now I'm listening to Christmas music, and I can't get enough of the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's Christmas trilogy.

When I'm home, I rarely listen to music. My mother used to tell me she loved the silence, and I could NOT understand that -- I always had music on or the radio. I get it now: I love the leaves rustling and the birds chirping and the foot-falls of the deer on crunchy grass and the occasional 'mew' of one of the outdoor cats as they look through the sliding door screen. That's music for my soul.

Reverb 10 -- A name by any other....and Gratitude

For Dec. 23 -- New name. Let's meet again, for the first time. If you could introduce yourself to strangers by another name for just one day, what would it be and why?

I've been Beth for more than 63 years now.

As a child, I did not like my name because it calls to mind the delicate, generous, charming Beth of Little Women, and I am far more like Jo than like Beth, not to mention that whole dying thing.

I'm not an Elizabeth either, so no chance to change it to something different. I'm straight Beth.

I tossed around the idea of Tallulah, the name of a tall, eccentric actress (Tallulah Bankhead) whom I admired once upon a time. I thought about another favorite name, Hannah. Rejected them, and a bunch of others.

They are not me. I have imbued this name with my own flair, my own style, my wit, my outspokeness, my loving heart, my loyalty, my honesty, me

My parents called me Beth; my brother and sister-in-law call me Beth. My friends and my beloved husband call me Beth. My cousins and aunts and uncles know me as Beth, or perhaps BethKay. I know them; I love them. They know me by this name, and I hope they have a good feeling when they think of Beth.

Shakespeare wrote: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

So I'll stick with Beth. I don't want to be anyone else.

****************

For Dec. 24 -- Everything's OK. What was the best moment that could serve as proof that everything is going to be alright? And how will you incorporate that discovery into the year ahead?

You know what? Sometimes everything is NOT all right. Sometimes there is no 'best moment' that you can point to in a year and say it all will be okay. Sometimes bad things just happen, without warning, and not because of anything you did or didn't do.

I wrote here about hard times, and said, "It's not the good times that make us strong, it's the tough ones and how we handle stress, pressure, uncertainty, fear. The good times may give us the knowledge that this, too, shall pass, however, and that there are still good things to come. But it's in the fire that we are shaped and tempered and glazed."

This has been a year of fear and uncertainty and stress, of angst and drama, of days upon days of just walking through all of that. There have been good times too -- being with friends, enjoying family visits, laughing at plays and movies and stories, being by the ocean and with my wonderful husband. Those moments have been cherished, each as they came, and recognized as good, as peaceful and with contentment.

But this year I do not remember one single defining moment when I 'knew' everything would be okay. What I did learn was to walk through each day with some measure of serenity, on most days (not all), grateful that I was alive and okay and that those I love and cherish are alive and trying hard to make it work.

What I did learn is to be grateful every day, to say out loud those gratitudes even when situations are not ideal and emotions are tumbling over and around me. In enumerating my blessings, I can find a moment of 'all right' every day, and that has been enough for this year.

For 2011, I hope to find more 'best moments' -- but I will always count my blessings, every single day.

In a mood

Not in THE mood, in A mood.

No real reason, either -- nothing catastrophic has happened, far as I know people are safe and okay, reasonably, and I just got back from our Bunco Christmas party which was a fun night of way too many carbs, interesting gifts, and good women who are compassionate and caring.

But right now I feel like I could just sit here and cry until I'm stuffy-nosed, drained, and exhausted.

Maybe it's just the time of year when memories overtake common sense and flood in. I miss my parents. I got cards from two aunts today, and puddled up thinking about the Dahl sisters and how much fun they had over the years. Three of the four sisters are still here; my mother and her two brothers have all died since 2005. My dad has been gone 10 years.

Maybe it's remembering Christmases when I did a lot of singing and loved it -- I still remember some of the choral arrangements of favorite carols, plus other, more difficult Christmas music that was so fun to sing. Or when R was little and we always had a houseful over Christmas, did soup and sandwich suppers on Christmas Eve with my best friend and her family before we sang at the late church service where candles lighted the sanctuary and illuminated everybody's face into beauty.

Maybe it's sadness over how difficult life is on some days for R, especially, dealing with voices and visions that are unsettling, if not downright scary, and not knowing either cause or cure, or even if there will ever be a life again without them for her. The last two days especially have been hard for her, and I even went with her to the grocery store today because it was just too much for her to handle by herself. Sadness that another daughter simply chooses not to communicate with us for reasons we probably will never know. And while we have a relationship with our youngest child and our only grandchild, it is cautious on both fronts and likely will never be the flat-out love affair that I see some of my friends having with their grandchildren -- for lots of reasons, many of which have been outlined in this blog over the past several years.

Life is not quite a Norman Rockwell painting for us as a family, nor, I suspect, is it for most families. We all have our skeletons hidden in closets, attics, basements, and it seems the holidays are a time when those ghosts loom large. It's shoulda-coulda-wouldas piled on top of a pot full of present-day reality for most people, I think.

And yet we are most fortunate too: we have a wonderful home in a good community, we have many friends and acquaintances, we are as busy as we want to be, we have enough resources to take care of ourselves (at least, god willing, at this point). We have each other and find support and love and acceptance in that every single day -- a HUGE blessing and gift, especially if you've known a past relationship that hasn't been all that great. Far as we know, we are free from life-altering disease or conditions. We are limited more by our own motivation or lack thereof than by exterior issues.

Acknowledging that holidays and events and mood swings sometimes throw us for a loop is a good thing, I think. Dwelling on things I cannot change or over which I have little or no control is not a good thing. Accepting that it is okay to feel sad sometimes, to feel a little cheated in some respects is okay. Remembering and accepting that I am neither perfect nor do I have to appear to be perfect to anyone is especially a good thing.

Susan Elliott, whom I have quoted before in these posts, writes in "Getting Past Your Past,"
"Don’t distort the holidays. It’s approximately 35 days between Thanksgiving and New Years. And there is always a January 2nd. Don’t compare your insides to other people’s outsides. Yes, you need to grieve what was and what will never be, but it’s not quite the giant bundle of greatness that many people are thinking it is. Don’t distort what was."

You can read the whole post here.

It's a good thing to read now. And re-read again. And remember that this, too, shall pass.

Life is short. It is too short to put up with people or things that bring you down. It is too short not to be grateful for it every moment, every day, to be glad for some wee part of your life that is good -- and everyone, EVERYONE, has something.