A January Reverb prompt -- woohoo!

One of the Reverb teams I followed during December's look back at 2013 is sending monthly prompts this year, which is a great way to check in with oneself. When you have to really think about your days and activities, patterns emerge, thoughts clarify, actions take on new importance. Thank you, Meredith, Sarah, and Kat.

This month's prompt: Routine | Have you started a new routine this January?  Is this routine different from last year?  Is it the result of a resolution or goal you're working on?  Tell us about your days.  How do they flow?  If you'd like, maybe give us a full "day in the life" or just some snippets.

Oops. Welll....I hit 'publish' when I meant to hit 'save,' so let me try to catch up!

The routine I had envisioned for myself this January got shot all to pieces when my daughter finally became ready to move out of what we have dubbed 'The Orc Nest,' the house in which she has lived with her now ex-boyfriend and paid rent (and many other bills), and which has been taken over by squatters (at the invitation of the ex, who has gone down that slippery drug and alcohol slope big time). With help from us, she found a new place to live that she can afford on her own, and generous friends of mine have helped furnish it. She is clear-eyed, ready to move in a new direction, and I am so, so grateful.

The miracles began New Year's Day when someone called here trying to find the owner of a phone found at Walmart (hers had been stolen yet again, given to some creepazoid by her ex to 'use' and then presumably to return, which he did not). The woman who found it did not want anything other than to return it to the owner, and asked only that R pay it forward. Since then, good things have happened nearly every day, and she is safely in a new place, working with two agencies to get counseling and help.

I have been involved in helping her move, getting donated items, providing transportation when necessary, and giving lots of attagirls (the same ex is responsible directly or indirectly for her car being stolen three times. Yes, three. It has not been recovered from the last theft.)

I am also trying to keep a healthy perspective which has not been easy to do because while I am so very grateful for this new direction,   I also realize the very long road ahead and possibility for regression, since we have seen this movie before. This feels different, and there is a support team in place, so I am hopeful.

So the anxiety is still there but has changed perspective, and I understand that I still must resist the urge to control any aspect of this. I still ask the angels for help. I still say constant gratitude prayers. I am humbled by the love shown to me and to her by friends. And I am determined to continue with MY life and activities as well.

So it was back to yoga this week and good intentions for tai chi, even meeting a friend at the gym, only to discover the instructor was out with a serious diagnosis. But the friend and I spent a great hour talking anyawy, and we will try again next week. But as she moves forward into her new reality, I must move forward into mine, thankful that for now I have a positive relationship with both my daughters.

I also have been acclimating a new cat into our outdoor world: he is R's outdoor cat who she knew would be better and safer here than where she had been (and she has two indoor cats who moved with her). He has been living in our shop and has bonded with me; her two other cats stayed there for about a week too while she was between the Orc nest and her new place. So now we are trying to introduce him to the outside and our four outdoor cats. The door is open today, the cats are wandering in and out, and he has come as far as the open door but no further yet.

It's one day at a time for all of us, hm. That's all we ever get anyway, this one day today. I am so grateful for it!

Reverb 13: Day 9 -- Inspired surprises

1. Who inspired you in 2013? And why?

  What gifts did they give you? And how will you carry these forward in to 2014?

2. Surprise | What surprised you the most this year?

1. I was inspired most this year by the generosity of friends who brought food while I was convalescing from surgery, who called to see how I was, who visited or sent cards. It really made a difference that I had not expected at all.

My lesson in this was to find that kindness and caring in myself to respond to friends who are ill or convalescing or otherwise needing a boost -- and while I have done that a few times this year, it has not been consistent enough. I want to carry that resolve to help forward into 2014.

2. Not much really surprises me anymore, good or bad.

I confessI have been surprised by how nasty and evil people really can be as I've listened to tales about some of the people surrounding my daughter, but it's more of a despairing, horrified shocking surprise, really, to hear the stories of the squatters who have taken over her house, threatening her, stealing her phone and her car repeatedly. That she seems unable to extract herself from this situation is even more awful, and something I am powerless to do anything about.

I do not understand how someone can so deliberately take things that do not belong to them, deliberately injure or bully someone, and take what seems to be pleasure in doing so. I have never believed that people were truly bad to the core, but it appears I am wrong.

I will not be surprised when things get worse, unfortunately.

Reverb 13: a look at 2013, Day 1

I do love writing to prompts, and there is such value in taking a look at the year that is ending, so once again I am participating in #Reverb 13.

There are at least two programs going with this hashtag, and I'm signed up for both. One is through Kat McNally, and you can sign up and find info here.

The other is titled Project Reverb and is hosted by another Kat, Sarah, and Meredith, whose blog I've read for a long time. Signup and info is here.

Already I'm a day late, but we attended A Cascade Christmas in Redding yesterday, and were out much of the day. It was, by the way, the perfect way to switch into holiday mode, with a lovely blend of nostalgia, warm fuzzies, a touch of religion, and a bunch of familiar carols, sung skillfully in one blended number by a group dressed in lovely Victorian garb. Tickets are still available for next weekend here.

Prompts for Dec. 1 were:
1. How do you feel, on this first day, in your mind? In your body? In your heart? In your soul?

2. At the start: Where did you start 2013?  Give us some background on this year.

Let's see if I can manage both, but beginning with #2.

New Year's Day found me sitting in Tony's recliner with my left foot plastered to the knee and propped up on multiple pillows. That's where I remained for most of January, venturing out only to the doctor for post-op exams, and once to get my shaggy hair cut and have lunch at the tail end of the month. I'd had a triple arthrodesis Dec. 27.

There were blessings to this forced convalescence, and I wrote about many of them early in the year. While there is still one of the fused joints still healing, the other two show new bone and fusion, but I can walk without pain and am very  glad I had the surgery. This year has been about healing and recovery, not only from the surgery, but from the fear and anxiety and angst I had had about it and other parts of my life.

With the exception of worry and fear about my daughter's safety and unbelievably awful living situation, at this moment my life is better than it has ever been. I am so grateful for the friends and neighbors who helped us during my recovery, and for the wonderful support and care that my husband gave to me then and always.

Which brings me to the first prompt: see that very first sentence on the last paragraph. That's how I am in my mind and heart. One thing I know: I can save one life, and it is not hers. That is up to her, and I have finally gotten out of her way so that she can continue her own journey. I cope better with it some times than I do others, but I am doing it. And I pray that her angels will keep her safe and help her to get away from the badly broken people who are living with her. She knows I love her.

I still feel fragile in my body, but it doesn't hurt and gets me where I need to go. Through the rehab I did this year, I finally understood that going to a gym has nothing to do with looking better and everything to do with getting stronger and more flexible. Yet I confess that the heat this summer did me in for regular visits, and I have not started back yet. My intention is to resume regular visits and classes because I know results will show quickly and I will feel better and less fragile.

I am continuing to focus on energy and spiritual work, and my connection to the Universe is strong and powerful, although I still would like a like-minded group to work with. My teacher Jessie has helped me tremendously this past year to dump bad energy and increase good, healing vibration and spirit, and I am grateful to her.

Onward.

I'm still here

....and a little embarrassed by my lack of attention to this blog, after going on three months without so much as a "Hi there."

I can't really explain it, either. Certainly life has gone on and things have happened, good and not so good.  I think I went somewhere for a while, far away from creative thought or sharing mode, and it was not especially good.

But I'm here now.  And in a completely different mode. Let me tell you more...

Living on one foot 

After a misstep last spring and nearly six months using an ankle support, I finally was able to see an orthopedist about the pain I had when I walked much at all, even with the orthotics I've used for five years and in my 'comfort' shoes. Crippling pain, folks, hobbling along with a cane on some days, my left leg feeling wooden from the knee down.

Turns out I have severe arthritis in the joints there, compounded by a severely flat foot, fixable through surgery called a triple arthrodesis. So we began to plan, with surgery finally scheduled for Dec. 27.

I will say that we were prepared: the first time I've ever had the luxury of actually anticipating the surgery and recovery period. I read health message boards, researched the procedure, figured out what medical supplies would help, and began freezing soups and stews and casseroles. Friends lent me a bedside commode, a transport wheelchair, a shower chair. We got toilet rails and in lieu of crutches, a knee roller. I practiced using just one foot to get into the shower (not doable, but it works in the big tub), to get off the toilet. 

Although this was 'elective' surgery, the alternative is literally crippling, and I'm just not ready or willing to go there. So in my mind, there wasn't an option. Even though I wanted to go through with it, I found myself gradually getting more anxious, more afraid -- and that mindset likely had a great deal to do with my not blogging. 

Finally I reached out to a local healer friend who works with energy and reiki and asked for help -- and it made a HUGE difference almost immediately. On her advice and with her help, I turned my focus inward, concentrating almost wholly on me -- something I have almost never done for very long, and always still trying to juggle the other commitments and relationships I have had. This time I found other, easier ways to handle existing commitments and completely backed out of others, and came home to my honey, my cats, and myself. And focused on increasing energy, positive energy, in myself and in that wooden leg.

It worked, really well. And going into surgery, I felt positive about my recovery, positive about the surgery, and actually was walking better than I had in a long time. I could feel the leg again. It was connected to my body, and I felt whole. The morning of the surgery, I was ready, I was calm, I was positive.

I confess to an unreasonable fear of general anesthesia, which I always have come out of (and have never been told that I had difficulty with) gasping and groggy and grateful that I am still alive. Although I'd hoped to do a spinal block along with a local nerve block and thus remain more or less awake, it turned out that one medication I'd taken the morning of the surgery negated that option for safety concerns, and under I went, after only a little meltdown, and indeed, I came out groggy and gasping. But within a few hours, I was coherent and without pain and so, so grateful.

That's where I am now. 

I am two weeks post-op and spending much of my time in Tony's recliner with my foot propped above my heart. There has been only minimal swelling, almost no pain**, and I am not stir-crazy. Indeed, that inward focus continues, and I'm contemplating spirit and prayer and quiet and purpose and just learning to BE instead of DO. I'm leaving other people's business and conflicts to them rather than offering opinions (unsolicited) or help (which I am in no position to give). For now, that is what my work is supposed to be.

**The nerve block did not wear off for 30+ hours, and when it did, it hurt. I spent one night in the hospital taking pain meds and using the nifty pain pump, but was so nauseated that I regretted all of the meds. Since then I have taken the strong stuff sparingly (it has such nasty side effects) and have used just the occasional Tylenol to ease discomfort. But what I had been told was a hugely painful surgery (involving screws and cutting into bone) has turned out for me to be nothing more than a few aches and twinges (nerve regeneration causes some leg jumping and zingers, but it's not so much painful as it is frustratingly random). 

Grateful. Beyond. Measure.

Time for the recliner now. 

"At times our own light goes out and is rekindled by a spark from another person. Each of us has cause to think with deep gratitude of those who have lighted the flame within us." Albert Schweitzer    





        

Reverb 10: what defined this year

For Dec. 29 -- Defining moment. Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year.

Oh, hands down (pun intended) it was Jan. 4 when I fell sideways onto the pavement at the Redding Convention Center parking lot and when I sat up, my wrist was in an 'S' curve. It was not just a little break either -- but one that required surgery, a plate, and seven screws to fix. And some six months to recover from.

It changed everything for me this year.

I 'retired' -- at least I began to draw Social Security, although I'm busy doing many things. I stopped freelancing because I couldn't type and couldn't take interview notes, and my head wasn't in a good place to be able to do that anyway.

I was dependent on others to help me drive, wash, cook, even dress myself, and I learned to use my left hand, sortakinda, to eat, to operate my trackball, to sign my name, to dry my hair, to apply makeup. I hated it. I felt awkward and old and wobbly and mortal.

All of the other stresses were still there, too -- providing support for R on her bad days, finding an attorney to help with her disability claim, taking care of the house and kitties and so on. I did most of it pretty well after the first month or so, and while the physical injury healed and I was done with physical therapy by mid-April, it left me with a fear of falling, a wariness that has yet to leave me, and an awareness of how very fragile we really are; how quickly life can change in a moment.

It left me tired. Weary. Not energized. Afraid of something else happening.

That, and dealing with R's ongoing illness -- appointments, phone calls, ER visits, doctor visits, etc. -- were the overwhelming thoughts and feelings I lived with this year. There were some good times, some nice moments. But mostly it was one day at a time, one month at a time, just getting through as best I could.

I do not want 2011 to be a re-run in any way. Things are looking better and I'm feeling more optimism than I have all year. I'm glad to see the end of 2010.

A night in the ER

...not another accident for me, but R was deep in hallucinations and a bad reaction to Wellbutrin, yet another drug to help ease her depression and mental issues. She'd been taking it a couple of weeks but was increasingly agitated and seeing or hearing things daily. Of course the goal with all the psych meds she's taking is to reduce those effects.

So off we went after seeking advice from Mental Health, and she effectively breathed into the hospital equivalent of a brown paper bag for a while and the breathing eased somewhat. She's off the drug, of course, but it takes awhile to get out of the system.

If it's not one thing with her, it's another. We go to regular doc today about migraines, then back to ER to treat two MRSA infections that have popped up. Seems like once you get one, you get them more frequently -- and she wipes everything at least weekly with bleach and antibacterial soap, so go figure.

So I left the little supper gathering we'd had here of several fellow photographers and went off to deal with medical issues. The group is understanding and supportive, and that helps a lot.

And then I wonder why I'm stressed and having my own issues, eh.

It's a new day, though, and will begin a weekend of friends and fellowship and some good food, and lots of time with my honey. That works for me.

Hard times seem to be everywhere

I don't know quite what has changed in the universe, but things sure feel bleak right now for us and for everyone. I'm working to keep some perspective and to find blessings, and I do -- but boy, there doesn't seem to be a lot of light at the end of this tunnel right now.

Freelancing is always a bit of a feast-or-famine gamble: when you're busy, you don't have time to do a lot of marketing, and when you're not, it is a hurry-up-and-wait game. Freelance journalists are all having a hard time these days because so many of the markets -- like print newspapers -- are drying up, or groups aren't doing newsletters, or they're making do with volunteer efforts rather than using professional help. And often freelance rates aren't set by the individual, but are paid by the hiring organization. They, like salaries and benefits, are subject to cuts as well. Try 40 to 50 percent. Ouch.

Illness of any kind demands a new set of rules and requirements, and it takes time and persistence to go through the system to get what you need. Meanwhile, living expenses continue. Symptoms can be distressful, but doctor appointments don't always happen when symptoms flare. It's also a hurry-up-and-wait situation, and one only hopes the medical attention will happen quickly enough to prevent more severe consequences.

Today I've talked to friends whose businesses are non-existent, or cut back considerably, and they're all struggling with bills, how to afford medical costs, fuel, etc.

Do you take whatever you can find for a job and tough it out, even when stress and unhappiness clearly affect your mental and physical health? Or do you pay attention to what your body tells you and find ways to tighten already tight budgets?

What happens when your business is going downhill because of circumstances beyond your control -- hackers take down your online business site, for instance, causing you to lose money, or manufacturers place unreachable sales goals on their sales force because of their own desperation? You can do all you can to stop it, but it may not be enough. It may not work.

Many, many people do not have any wiggle room or rainy-day resources to help them, so requests for help from "the system" are increasing, yet those budgets are also decreasing. And it is a "hurry-up and wait" system: you can fill out applications to start the process, but what do you do in the meantime?

Times are not fun right now. It's one day at a time for all of us. Time to do all you can where you are with what you've got. And pray that you see a way to make things better. That's what I'm doing.

Quietly contemplating choices

After a couple of days of turmoil on all fronts, lots of fear and ice weasels, lots of reading about coping and consequences, we are in a place of relative calm tonight.

Our child is safe and okay, and has made some decisions about where she wants to be. For my part, I am determined to give her back the power I've assumed on her behalf over the last few months, and to stop treating her as though she were an errant teenager.

For this moment, I believe what she is saying is the truth.

And if it is not, that too will eventually come out. Truth always does.

But everyone deserves at least a couple of do-overs, y'know? So this is one.

I do have a problem with control: I like knowing what is going on and alllllll the details -- always have, and that has caused problems in my relationships with my daughters in the past. If I really get honest about it, I think I see the "right" thing to do, and I push and push to have it go in that direction.

For me, the hardest thing is to let go of that control. While I say "I am powerless over people, places, and things," I often don't actually ACT it. or believe it, I suppose

My brother would agree that I am and always have been fairly bossy. (ooo...that is SO hard to admit, especially where I know he's going to see it)

And I also have to admit that my own life has not always been a textbook of the best or the right way to live. I've screwed things up pretty well any number of times. No, I never suffered horrible consequences like getting thrown in jail, getting arrested, gravely serious injury (although I bear a few scars here and there, and there are a few instances I really don't like remembering), or doing injury to others, at least injuries that are visible.

But I'm sure I gave my mother and father more than a few sleepless nights, and caused my ex some major heartburn. I'm sure I lost a few friends -- although I'm not sure that they were all that great a friend to begin with.

So the lesson I need to find in this is to accept the consequences of my own behavior, of my own choices, and to let go of the need and the desire to direct the choices and lives of others -- my daughters, my dear husband, or my greater family and friends.

It simply is NOT MINE TO DO. Not mine to manage.

Whatever my daughters choose to do in their lives are theirs to manage and to live with. I will never, ever stop loving them. But I am not responsible for their choices. I cannot control their mistakes. And we ALL make mistakes.

Mine in this instance was probably in jumping a bit too quickly to conclusions, and trying too hard to control things.

If there is risky behavior from either child, it is they who will bear the consequences. I cannot save them from that, try as I might. And to jump in to either condemn or rescue is equally as bad.

So tonight I will turn my attention to myself, and ask for the serenity to accept those things I cannot change. And for the wisdom to know the difference. I don't lack for courage, but wisdom to know has definitely been an issue in the past. I just didn't realize how great an issue it still was.

And I am grateful that she is safe and okay for now, that she has made a CHOICE to be where she is, and that her people radar has kicked in enough, at least, to override her stubborn nature and allowed her to see the danger.

I will turn my worries and fears and control over to the care of God/dess, and try to keep myself on the path to serenity. This is a journey. It matters what I do every day. But neither will I beat myself up unnecessarily. It is about progress, not perfection, and I am working on my own issues.

Thank you for your prayers and your love. It is all that which has brought this to be where it is tonight, of that I am sure. Keep them coming -- and I will hold you close in my heart and in my prayers as well.

Like a duck

...I'm trying to float on the stream, but underneath I'm paddling like mad.

There are a lot of things up in the air, some of which won't be resolved anytime soon. My brother's surgery is today, so part of me is there with him, feeling anxious, and trying not to be. There are challenges with work for both Tony and me, and again, part of me feels assured that we will be okay, but there is still anxiety. We continue to see problems with our daughter come up, and it's disruptive and a little frightening.

When you've lived a fairly low-key life for a time, it's hard to get dropped back into drama and uncertainty.

And I sure don't need to talk about the global economy. Money that was there (on paper, at least) a few months ago has disappeared. That's for everyone. These are unsettling times, tight times, anxiety-ridden times.

I don't like not knowing. I can cope with whatever a known issue is, but I have problems with the what-ifs and the wait-and-see ones. I want to know NOW.....whine......

I feel like there are so many loose ends, so many threads that are unraveling, and no time to really complete anything, not that it could be completed anyway. That extends to chores around the house and yard as well: we need to get rock and gravel and then spread it, but when? I need to yank out the summer garden and till. I'm nearly done with changing out closets, but part of it is still sitting in my bedroom. And then there are stories that need doing, if I can ever get hold of the people I need to talk to.

Too many what-ifs. Too much up in the air. And it's not just me. Nearly everyone I know feels much the same way.

Feeling out of sorts? You're not alone

As I mentioned a few posts ago, things seem very unsettled and uncomfortable in the world now, both in my little personal sphere and the earth as a whole.

I start nearly every time the phone rings, hoping it's not one of the princesses with yet another crisis and health issue. The youngest has not only delivered a baby -- young Gabriel -- in the past three weeks, but also ended up in the hospital with pneumonia last week, exacerbated I'm sure by all the smoke and nasty air that we've had in these parts from the fires. (it's smoky again today)

And the eldest is battling big depression and mental health issues far away from me so that I can't even put my arms around her and just cry with her. So I try to do it via phone. She's talking to me -- a good thing -- and is getting help, but it seems like one big crisis after another, impacting finances as well as job and emotional health.

All of which invite the ice weasels, which so far I've managed to stave off from a full-fledged attack. I can feel them nibbling, though.

And I'm not the only one who is having these feelings. Lunaea posed the question a few days ago and got some good responses. And Joanna offers her own suggestions for dealing with emotional issues today.

There are good ideas here to cope, and I've done most of them at one point or another. For now, I'm trying to stay in the moment and focus on what I need to do here. I'm trying to remember that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that there is really not one thing I can do to fix this for either princess. They must do the work. I am the listener, the comforter, the suggester. I try to make solid suggestions and hope the seeds grow. They each must find their own way through their dark and stormy times, but I hope that while I talk to them that I can be the lighthouse in the darkness.

I am grateful for my lighthouse, my wonderful husband, and for his sane and loving touch. I am grateful for my own sense of self and strength. The ocean renewed some of that for me this weekend. I watch the hummingbirds and water my plants and harvest the good veggies, and am thankful for life and for its constancy. As the old fades, the new takes its place. My daughters have to find their own paths through the darkness, just as I have found mine.

Deja vu (all over again)*

Another meeting this weekend was cause for serious deja-vu, and more bewilderment about ethics, moral codes, and people's behavior. While not a general meeting, this was a neighborhood board meeting, one of several throughout the year which I and others have been attending just to keep an eye on how business is being conducted.

The deja-vu came when the players mentioned here pretty much reprised their behavior of last fall. The six of us who came as interested parties were threatened with the sheriff -- the host and leader said that he had the right to throw any of us who disrupted the meeting off his property. At least two of us were ridiculed, insulted, and subjected to character assassination, including private business that had no place being aired at that meeting or any other.

I simply do not understand how a person can be so filled with anger and hatred that nothing but venom comes out of his mouth. I have never heard this person say anything positive about anything, and he obviously takes pleasure out of pushing other people's buttons, especially personal ones, and watching them react, and in being just as ugly and mean and nasty as you can imagine a person could be.

It's clearly a power thing -- he throws out a personal attack, and watches as that person reacts -- usually in anger and frustration and embarrassment. And he smiles. I watched him do it.

What could have twisted this man so deeply that he takes such pleasure out of causing others pain and humiliation? According to those who have lived here as long as he has, he has always been this way (and he's no spring chicken).

After last fall's meeting, I said that I was done wasting major time on minor people, and by golly, I have pretty much done that. I did not allow this man and his horrible comments to affect the rest of my day, nor to ruin my sleep. Except for a few moments when my honey was expressing his opinion and things got tense and my tummy sort of turned over, I have been pretty sanguine about it.

As writer Kim Antieau said today, you can change light bulbs, but you can't change people.

I have reflected a bit on his nature and on how bleak such a life must be to live. I know that the good thing to do is to say a prayer for him. But I simply do not understand at all how there can be a moral code by which such people live -- how do they even live with themselves? How could you find anything good or decent or loving in the world when you are so filled with anger and hatred, and behave in such an immoral way?

You either have morals or you don't. I think they're learned at a very early age, and I believe there are people who have none, who live only by a "do unto others before they do unto you" code. What a bleak existence.

The ultimate insult to these people is to be ignored and dismissed. And that's how I've begun to handle it. If I don't fuel their passion through my own response, they get no pleasure (although what masters of manipulation! They will stop at nothing to evoke a response, any response, and it is so difficult not to respond when your words are being twisted, you are being slandered, and your character is defamed so publicly, and of course you want badly to deny the lies.)

Next meeting is September. We'll see how I do.

*from Yogi Berra, who also coined such twists of the language as these. Scary that some of them actually make sense.

Change brings stress and angst

I've been reminded these last few days by several incidents that everything changes, and life as you know it in this moment can change with a few words, a few actions. Change is the ONLY constant.

I'm also reminded that we are, at our core, fragile and susceptible, even though we may soldier through whatever difficulties are thrown at us and come out on the other side still walking, still functioning, even better, but not unchanged. For many of us, there is a strength inside that fragility that will not let us break irreparably....but not for all of us, and those are our sad walking wounded of life.

It is very scary when people you care about struggle with health issues or with devastating loss of trust and love. I wonder if they have the strong core, if they will survive the blows, and be able to find a good place again. And as much as I yearn to make it better, I know I can't. All I can do is stand by, arms open, and tell them I love them. And set my own boundaries in some instances, when their troubles blind them to the truth that they will have to face in order to move forward and begin to climb out of the pit.

It's even harder to watch when bad things happen for no apparent reason to people who are just trying to do the right thing and to live a conscientious life.

And yes, I know that I've written at some length on creating our own destiny through our choices and how we deal with the consequences of those choices, and yes, I still believe it. And I can see some consequences of choices made when I think about the incidents of recent days. And yet....and yet...it's not fair. It's not deserved. These are not BAD people, y'know? *sigh*

I've also been reminded that while *I* may work at being kind and watching my words carefully, not everyone does, and words can cause wounds that may not bleed but that are devastating nonetheless. (Mind you, I don't always succeed in the above intentions, but I do try...)

Sometimes life seems awfully complicated, with twisty dark places and power struggles and mean-spirited actions. It makes me want to run back to my refuge in the country and just stay put with my books and garden and Tony and cats, and not venture out for a long time.

This, too, shall pass. I pray for wisdom to know what to say and when to say it. And I pray for love and healing in all our lives.

Hunkering down this week

I've got a list of to-dos that have kept me working pretty much from 8:30 this morning until about 15 minutes ago -- and it's midnight -- with only lunch and supper breaks, and one foray into town this morning.

It's serious writing time. Finished the arts newsletter and it's off to printer in the morning. Also discovered that we are nearly out of business cards, so did a redesign on those too, and they'll also go to printer.

So tomorrow it's research and draft time on one big project. And Wednesday. And Thursday. Friday is meetings and stuff all day, and Saturday we're meeting some folks for a few hours that entails bringing food, although it won't be fancy.

But I feel better for having crossed two things off.

I'm still constantly practicing positive gratitude (although I'll admit I was challenged a time or two today), and projecting positive thoughts about what I want, picturing myself in that bright blue Jeep Liberty, for instance...*grin*

The Sopranos ended last night, "...not with a bang, but a whimper" (apologies to T.S. Eliot). millions were talking about the 30-odd seconds of black screen that made us think the network was down or that the recorder didn't get it all at first, and then when credits started rolling silently, we realized it was over. Worse than Bobby Ewing's dream!

And yet, on contemplation today and much discussion with Tony (my honey, not the Soprano), I'm okay with the ending. It was full of speculation, symbolism if you cared to see it, and possibilities for all the family members. So they live on, in some weird parallel universe-mind, I suppose, and there could be a movie (but I bet there won't be). In some ways this ending made them even more real than they seemed to be.

It was a fun evening, though -- a group of us who have been watching this season together made it a party with Italian food, wine, laughter, and a Sopranos quiz. We watched the very first episode of the series before we watched the very last one. There were lots of changes, and yet the same issues were there.

So it's on to the next to-do on the list. Right now, that's bed. Blessings!

Contagious stress

Today was filled with many deadline-driven queries and tasks, and I found that my anxiety spiraled up with every new e-mail or phone call.

It wasn't so much stress and anxiety that I OWNED, but I could feel it very strongly coming to me from others who were pushing and pushing to complete tasks in order to meet a deadline. And I caught it, that anxious stress, and felt the push, the drive to finish just one more thing, send one more e-mail before I went to appointments that had been set up for a while, and then carried it with me for a little while.

Fortunately I realized what was happening, and made conscious choices not to allow problems that aren't mine to affect my own anxiety levels. The parts that I did have responsibility for had been done for some time, although there was some questions as to what would be needed.

At the end of the day, it didn't matter because an overlooked item took priority over the work I'd done. Ah ...

Stress is highly contagious. If you've ever worked for a company and gone through a layoff or RIF, you know what I mean: paranoia is rampant throughout the staff. Will I be next? How will I pay the mortgage? Why don't they want me? I got a good review -- but will I be safe?

*shudder*

And stress is baaaaddd for the bod, folks. It can exacerbate all sorts of problems you already may have a tendency towards, and it can truly be life threatening if it becomes chronic and unrelieved.

Today I consciously made myself slow down and breath deeply, calm my mind, and repeat my favorite mantras: I am powerless over people, places and things. ...serenity to accept the things I cannot change, change the things I can....the wisdom to know the difference....Do all you can, where you are, with what you've got.

Had I been able, I'd have listened to some music or an ocean waves recording, and maybe done some yoga stretches and more deep breathing. On the fly, I settled for the breath, and for the mantras. It worked, and it put me in a much more accepting frame of mind, rather than the accelerating accusatory mode like "What were you thinking to leave this to the last minute? Why should your lack of planning be my problem? Don't you know how to make that look decent with all your fancy=schmacy boasting?" You know how it goes, don't you.

Ooooo. Nasty thoughts.

In a week, it won't matter, not really. This day was not brain surgery. Nobody was going to die or get hurt. And that's what puts it into perspective, really.

Rule 1: Don't sweat the small stuff. Rule 2: Most of it is small stuff.

I am thankful for each day that I get to spend here, with my honey, in this beautiful place, living the life I do. I'm grateful for friends and family and love. I'm grateful for enough. Thanks be to the universe.

Gottados have gotta go

My to-do lists are growing, not shrinking, and I'm feeling the pressure of'gottadogottadogottadoNOW.'

I thought I'd gotten to the point where I might actually get those stupidbathroom curtains done. I bought the fabric in Davis a few weeks ago and allit takes to finish it are seams -- they're nothing fancy. Our bedroom stillneeds to be deep cleaned and a few more things hung, and my desk is stillfairly disastrous, but the other rooms have been cleaned and done, mostly.

It's spring (or is it?) so once again the spring-winter closet dilemma hasresulted in clothes from both seasons slowly migrating from one closet tothe other, leaving storage boxes open on the floor and transitional clothingon the spare bed.

I have many routine tasks for real estate -- ads, posting online, followupwith clients who we've talked to or written over the last several months,sending letters, designing cards. Oh yeah. I wish it brought better results.

And then there are the writing gigs we're both working on. You wouldn't knowit from anything that's made its way to paper, at least for me, but it'sperking in my brain and slithering through my sleep. I started one thing today that I expect will pretty much write itself tomorrow because I've beencogitating on it for about a week. That's how my creative muse likes towork...research, think, research, muse, research, putter, more think, moreputter, a little gardening, some clothes folding, and then BOOM. It flows out of the fingers.

It had better. I need it Friday.

I still want to plant some spinach and start a row of beans in the garden.All the lettuces, onions, radishes and sugar snap peas have poked theirheads up and really liked today's rain. It won't take long -- it's just getting out there to do it.

And then there's a meeting next week for which there needs to be somepreparation. Volunteer stuff hasn't been high on my "gottado" list lately,although the first magazine from our Realtor association has been put to bed and will be here next week (YAY!)

So I feel back to "doing" rather than "being." I gotta find some "being"time this weekend, I think, in the garden or on the sewing machine, or maybejust reading for an hour or so. I haven't posted what I'm reading becauseall I've been doing is catching upon magazines! Oprah, Cooking Light,Sunset, Newsweek, various Realtor magazines, AARP, plus newspapers. Since I finished the last novel, I haven't even started another.

Gottado. I gotta do something about these 'gottados.' Life is too short tospend too much time like this.

When have you had enough?

I got really, REALLY angry today -- something I rarely do. Oh, I get peeved and even testy, but that doesn't stick long, and it isn't something that causes much of a physical reaction.

Really truly angry takes a while to grab hold of me...a slow burn. And I sidestep it at first, and then feel it build and build and build, and then I get shaky and leaky-faced (angry tears), and it lasts for hours, and leaves me just worn out from the intensity.

It was primarily because of a phone bill we got today in the mail -- except it wasn't entirely about the amount of money owed (which was significant), but rather that I felt used, disrespected, blown off, and greatly taken advantage of. And there is not one single thing that can recover any of the money -- and there is nothing -- NOTHING -- to show for it -- NO benefit anywhere to us. Just a big, fat bill.

What is most painful, though, is that the usage privilege that was extended was so carelessly -- and willfully -- abused, with no appreciation shown and no notice taken of a couple of warnings we'd issued over the past couple of months.

It's not the first time this has happened, either -- not the same situation, but with another gift, a privilege given that was blown off and squandered, and then lied about.

Maybe I'm old-fashioned -- I guess I am. I was taught to appreciate what was given to me because I knew that someone had worked hard to receive that money. I was taught that having material things is not a right; it is a privilege, whether you earn the money or someone else has. I'm a pretty frugal consumer -- I've always had enough, but there have been years when I've pinched many pennies and made do with what I had, or found creative ways to recycle things. I shop sale racks and grocery specials. I've fallen out of some of those habits in more recent years, but I'm picking them back up these days.

So it just blows me away when privileges are taken as a right, when monetary gifts intended to help build a solid foundation are spent not on necessities, but on cigarettes or a night out or cute shoes or new purses.

Oh, I could rant and rave more. But you get the idea.

For me, this last is truly the end of my support and willingness to help -- at least until the recipient is capable of making choices that will build a foundation for self-sufficiency and an eye to future growth. And can show respect for the gift as well as the giver, and honor the gift by using it well.

There's a little part of me that says that a gift should be given without strings, without any anticipation of thanks or appreciation, but simply because the giver chooses to give it lovingly.

And in a perfect world, I suppose it is a noble and honorable and admirable intention to give without asking for anything in return. A good Christian thing to do; an honorable Buddhist way of right behavior; a part of giving back from the gifts I've been given by the universe.

But I'm not perfect, and I don't feel very noble or selfless. I just feel drained and tired of giving and giving and giving without any return on investment. And I feel resentful -- not a good way to be.

I think it's time to step back and watch. Lovingly. But not enabling anymore. It clearly hasn't helped any of us. And I've had enough.

The Ides of March

Okay, so it's tomorrow, not today. The Ides, that is.

It is the day, so legend goes, that Julius Caesar was murdered in BC 44. A soothsayer cautioned him to "Beware the Ides of March," but he ignored the warning, and was murdered by his close friend Brutus.

You, of course, remember that from Shakespeare's play, Julius Caesar, which you likely studied during your freshman or sophomore year in high school. Right?

I don't expect assassination: physical, character or otherwise. But it is an auspicious day. First of all, it is the middle of March, and spring is barely a week away. Second, our daughter departed this evening, heading for Alabama and new adventures. The Ides will be her first full day of travel, and our thoughts are with her every mile of the way -- we've driven it at least as far as Oklahoma City. We hope for clear weather and easy travels, and a better chance at finding herself.

This week is filled with activity -- little of it money-making, alas. Our Arts Council sponsors the Missoula Children's Theatre, and this is the Residency Week, so about 60 kids are singing and dancing and learning lines for "Robin Hood" every day after school. It'll be performed Saturday -- is that amazing or what! I've been laying out the program, the tickets, re-creating business cards for ads, and so on --all volunteer work. And when I'm not doing that, I've been in meetings for our local Realtor Association's new magazine, of which I will be editor -- also a "good of the order" volunteer job. It's an interesting venture and one which I hope will be successful.

Nonetheless, it's left little time for me to promote our own business. That'll change next week.

Spring is here...
ready or not. The little tree that always leafs out first is full of leaves. When you look across the land, the treetops shimmer with new green. Tiny curled leaves are unfolding hour by hour. All the daffodils I've planted are blooming, noses sniffing the very warm (86 degrees today on our porch) spring air, and they dot the still-green grass all around the house and stretching up the driveway. I'd like to plant about 50 new ones every year until the property is full of them in the spring.

I don't feel like there was enough winter, though, and it feels more like May than March. I'm hoping we have a wet April.

Where did it go, all those days since Jan. 1?

Of course we lost an hour this week, and I'm still trying to catch up. I think spring forward is much harder to get used to than fall back -- sort of like flying east is harder than flying west.

I'm not pondering much of anything, either, although there's stuff stirring around in my head -- but there isn't time this week to BE -- just DO. It's a new season, a rebirth of something, and I'm trying to figure out just what. Change is definitely in the air.

Between the lines

It feels like everything is on hold, waiting...

Waiting for rain. Waiting for spring. Waiting for the real estate market to get better. Waiting for the next holiday (which isn't until MAY!!! for those of you who have regular jobs where you get days off).

I am so totally right here and now about everything -- not that it's a bad way to be, but I don't seem to be able to think about stuff in either the past or the future other than to note it on the calendar.

It's been one of those nose-to-the-grindstone weeks, where I'm working on the computer for hours, doing layouts, designs, twiddling and fiddling with elements, comparing, revising. And investigating some freelance writing possibilities, which of course entailed completely revising my resume. And always checking out real estate and working on marketing our listings and searching for places to advertise some of them. I feel very focused...okay, somewhat obsessed. I dream about my to-do list when I finally manage to get to sleep (but if I take a Tylenol PM, I'm just a zombie until after noon). My neck is stiff, my joints are creaky, I need to walk in the mornings but I'm also trying to get things done and checked off.

~~whine~~~

The little tree that always leafs out first is leafing...just barely, but there are definitely leaves popping. And while we may have more rain, the real winter weather is likely over. In fact, I bought seeds the other day -- lettuce, sugar snap peas, spinach, onion -- and would like to get part of the garden prepped this weekend maybe so I can start the cooler weather crops even though the last frost date is not until April 15. By the time I got the garden in last year, it was too late for peas and onions, and just borderline for lettuce.

I'm still planning to make those curtains, maybe replace the chair cushions, finish framing and hanging photos, cleaning parts of the house that haven't been touched in too long, and going through my closet to take to either Act II or Salvation Army. That's after I finish all the computer work. The freelance ops. Cleaning my hideously messy desk.

I'm living these days between the lines -- fully focused, but not mindfully moving. I'm doing, not being. I'm getting a little tired of it, but I also can't stop....

My favorite time of day is bedtime, when I ease into the flannel sheets, sink into the bed, and pick up my book. I love having Tony snug against my side, and the cats in their usual sleeping places on the bed. It's quiet, warm, and I can indulge in my favorite activity -- reading-- without feeling like I should be doing something else.

I hate not going to sleep quickly and hearing the clock hit 2 a.m. or even 3....

This too shall pass.

May you sleep peacefully. May you find a joyous moment in every day. May you be grateful for your blessings.

Me too.

Paying attention

I'm writing this with one white cat sprawled across my lap, belly up, head on my right arm, so if there are a few typos, blame Cheswick. For whatever reason, he's begun to seek my lap when I'm at the computer -- he is Tony's cat, to be sure, but I'm apparently the pick of the month for the computer lap. Could be that Tony's is usually filled with McMurphy.

This white one is sleeping. Head tucked into the crook my elbow makes as I'm typing. Paws stretched up my chest. It is too cute for words.

ANYWAY.

I went to Redding today and as I was driving, thought about how January is nearly over, and how I've been so focused on meeting deadlines that the days have slipped by almost without notice.

This is not how I want to live my life! I want to savor each day for whatever experience, whatever lesson it may bring. I want to notice the food I'm putting into my mouth, the feel of the blacktop under my sneaker-shod feet as I walk in the mornings, the sound of the outdoors. I don't want to be so obsessed with work and deadlines that I go from one task to another to another, and then it's time for bed, and another day is gone!

This morning I started right, at least. As we were eating breakfast, I tried doing a little eating meditation -- noticing how the fork felt in my hand, the texture of the sausage or the egg, the tang of sage and pepper. The taste of the yolk -- all by itself, no bread, no egg white. And the mouthfeel of the food.

It didn't carry over into the other meals, of course. We ate lunch hurriedly so I could get on with errands; we talked over dinner. And here I am again, time for bed, and this day is gone for this year.

I've been walking the loop around our subdivision nearly every morning with neighbors and Tony -- about 2 miles, about an hour. I really like walking this road. Even though we're talking the whole time, I still notice things you don't see from a car: the thick pine barrier one neighbor has cultivated around his property, a buzzard warming his wings on top of a telephone pole, the slopes up and down of the land. I like that connection with the world -- and also with friends every day. It helps me to pay attention to where I am.

And every night as we snuggle down between the flannel sheets and the kitties come nestle into their favorite places, I think how grateful I am to have this. I pay attention to the feel of those sheets on my tired body, the warm bulk of the man I adore next to me, the quiet of the house as it settles down and shuts off for the night. I notice the moonbeams -- so bright as the full moon approaches! -- glowing whitely around the shuttered blinds on the windows. It is a blessed time and one I never take for granted or fail to notice.

I still have deadlines to meet on projects, but I'm going to try not to spend my whole days meeting them, glued to the computer screen. I want to pay attention to my house -- to finish a project or three I've had on my list but have put off because of responsibilities -- nearly all self-inflicted -- taking priority. Yes, they need doing because I made a commitment. But they don't deserve so many moments in the day -- ultimately they are not that important. Paying attention to the world around me, to the messages from the universe that come then -- that is what is important.

Message from the universe

So I whined and moped around yesterday about a myriad of stuff, a little teary, a lot snarky, with a large dollop of heavy duty nostalgia.

And lo, the Universe gives you what you need.

In my mailbox today was the Daily Om speaking precisely to my case of the holiday blues. It reminds me, gently, that this holiday needs to be about who I am now, not who I was. Another 'be in the moment' gift.

Thanks. I needed that.