1. One thing I learned in 2014 was how to make space for joy and
levity, even in the midst of challenging circumstances or sad times.
How could you make space for joy in the year to come? How could you protect it?
2. Stuff and Things: What products have you discovered this year that you
love? Tell us all about them, and why you love them. Become the
celebrity spokesperson of whatever it is you like!
1. Feeling joy is intentional action. We become so entrenched in our daily routines that we don't necessarily seek more joy, although I believe we both feel a great deal of gratitude every day, multiple times daily. But joy requires some planning, some space set aside specifically for play and pleasure.
We have off and on made time weekly for a play day -- going for a drive or to the mountains or to a movie or something like that, but in 2015, I'd like to make that a priorty day: a weekly day where we leave behind our routines and ordinary pleasures and chores, and intentionally go do something different and fun. That means it goes on the calendar every week, and we make it happen.
Life is short. If not now, when?
2. I like this prompt, but it is going to have to wait. I am behind on posting these prompts, for one, and for another, our daughter's father-in-law died this morning (Dec. 29), and we are reeling from that. So I promise to revisit it at a later time when I can give it the attention it deserves.
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Showing posts with label time. Show all posts
Monday, December 29, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
August Moon 14: Day 10: Time and inner space
How do you make time work for you?
How do you go to work and give as much as is adequate but ensure that you have enough left for yourself?
Again, this is not really where I am these days, as I have pretty much complete control over what I do with my time, and how I arrange my days and weeks.
When I was actively working a 40+ hour week and taking care of house, daughter, husband, and pets, it was a lot more of a challenge. I don't know how I did it, honestly. But I found time to volunteer at church, sing in a couple of choirs, and play with my girlfriends. Because I had to, because I could.
That energy and drive just amazes me as I look back on it today. I don't have that any more, and perhaps that is because I don't NEED to have it.
I will confess that every now and then I had to take a mental health day, when I would sleep and read and watch mindless television, all by myself. That helped, always.
Time speeds up as we grow older. It is more precious than ever before. I spend a good deal of my time these days on myself.
How do you go to work and give as much as is adequate but ensure that you have enough left for yourself?
Again, this is not really where I am these days, as I have pretty much complete control over what I do with my time, and how I arrange my days and weeks.
When I was actively working a 40+ hour week and taking care of house, daughter, husband, and pets, it was a lot more of a challenge. I don't know how I did it, honestly. But I found time to volunteer at church, sing in a couple of choirs, and play with my girlfriends. Because I had to, because I could.
That energy and drive just amazes me as I look back on it today. I don't have that any more, and perhaps that is because I don't NEED to have it.
I will confess that every now and then I had to take a mental health day, when I would sleep and read and watch mindless television, all by myself. That helped, always.
Time speeds up as we grow older. It is more precious than ever before. I spend a good deal of my time these days on myself.
Thursday, January 02, 2014
Reverb 13: Day 31: A look foward
The prompt:
At the finish | What's next for you?
Oh, would that I had such vision.
Then again, I'm not sure I really want to know.
My intention is to do more things that make me happy this year. More ocean. More travel. More reading. More quality time and less time on stupid games like Candy Crush Saga!!!
I intend to work on my relationship with my daughter R, who right this moment is showing good signs about getting out of her awful, toxic living situation, and who I pray will have the strength to cut off contact with her abusers. I want to treat her as the adult she is and limit the lecture and the worry. That means I must continue to work on turning it over to the Universe/God, and creating my own space of acceptance and calm.
I intend to build up my strength through yoga and Tai Chi and whatever else takes my fancy, because I feel better in my body when I am giving it positive, healthy attention. I intend to skip the excuses: at my age, there is no one to blame but me.
I intend to be grateful every single day, multiple moments each day, for all the blessings I have and cherish, and for the good people in my life, and I intend to be kinder, more thoughtful, more proactive about being a good friend to others. I intend to listen more than I speak. And not interrupt.
I intend to continue cleaning out stuff that no longer serves me, recycling what can be reused, giving it away, or putting it in the trash. I made good progress last year, but there are still areas (attic, I'm calling you out) that are cluttered with too much stuff. I even gave away books -- to friends, to my daughters, to the library, to thrift stores.
Mostly, though, I intend to focus on MY life as I want it to be, on what I still want to do, and on enjoying every single day with my husband. Life is short and we never know when our time is up, and it gets shorter with each passing year. So this year is going to be a really good one for ME.
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Scintilla#13, Day 16
The last prompts. Okay, I'm really late to this particular party.
1. What would it have been like if your life had turned out the way you wanted when you were a kid?
2. We bet there was a story you wanted to tell that didn't line up with any of the prompts. Write it anyway - and use it to write a one or two sentence prompt that others could use to tell a good story of their own. Then, share it with us, if you're comfortable.
Well, there are lots of stories I still have to tell, usually prompted by something that stirs a memory or an emotion. I'm hoping I'll be around for a long time to tell 'em.
I've been thinking about the first prompt since it came out, however, and I've already sort of spoken to that one in the Day 7 post about event horizons. Most everything that has happened since I was a kid is because of the choice I made about where to go to college, and then to stay there.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a nurse. Then a pediatrician. I loved kids; wanted to have four or six of them. Loved babysitting and did a lot of it. Helped in the church nursery and with the four-year-old Sunday school classes. I hung onto the medical field as a career goal pretty much until I butted heads with chemistry classes and realized that medicine was going to require a lot more math and science than I had any interest in -- or aptitude for -- taking. Scratch that one.
Had I stuck with the medical field, I would not have chosen the college I did, and everything would have been different. Everything.
When I hit early high school, I had a spiritual experience at church camp that convinced me I wanted to be a minister (United Methodist Church), and pretty much held onto that through most of high school, even being awarded a Christian service scholarship. It's quite likely that at times I was fairly insufferable, although my view of Christianity and the church's place in the world was very ecumenical and very involved with social justice issues -- clearly a precursor to my admittedly liberal opinions as an adult. I got to attend a variety of church-related conferences and workshops, and met so many interesting people in doing so.
And then in the latter part of my freshman year, that goal changed. I had joined various 'Christian' groups on campus -- not difficult in a church-related college -- and taken the 'Baby Bible' required courses: a semester of Old Testament studies, a semester of New Testament studies. But I started to question everything, including the core Christian belief of the Resurrection: clearly not a good thing for a wanna-be clergyperson to do, huh. Scratch that one too.
As it was, I experienced infertility and my then-husband and I adopted our daughter after a multi-year wait. Scratch the four-to-six kids.
And scratch the boyfriend I had for four years in high school and early college, too, and with whom I'd planned to spend my life. He's gay and is in a wonderful long-term relationship: they came to our wedding in 2000.
I am so grateful that my life has unfolded the way it has, even through the hard stuff and the heartaches. I would never have believed that at age 50 I would fall in love with a man who deeply adores the quicksand I walk on. I would never have believed that I would move to California (of all places -- Colorado would have been so much higher on my list back then!) and live by the ocean and end up in a rural valley between mountain ranges in a house I designed with my honey. I would never have believed that I would do even half of the things I've done -- not all of them pleasant, but each remarkable.
And that's all good, isn't it. We create our own destiny, minute by minute, year by year, experience by experience, hopefully building on what we learn to create a life we love. I have no expectations for these coming years of my life -- other than hope they will be numerous and happy -- but instead try to live and cherish each day, one at a time, and give thanks for it. What an incredible ride it's all been so far!
1. What would it have been like if your life had turned out the way you wanted when you were a kid?
2. We bet there was a story you wanted to tell that didn't line up with any of the prompts. Write it anyway - and use it to write a one or two sentence prompt that others could use to tell a good story of their own. Then, share it with us, if you're comfortable.
Well, there are lots of stories I still have to tell, usually prompted by something that stirs a memory or an emotion. I'm hoping I'll be around for a long time to tell 'em.
I've been thinking about the first prompt since it came out, however, and I've already sort of spoken to that one in the Day 7 post about event horizons. Most everything that has happened since I was a kid is because of the choice I made about where to go to college, and then to stay there.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a nurse. Then a pediatrician. I loved kids; wanted to have four or six of them. Loved babysitting and did a lot of it. Helped in the church nursery and with the four-year-old Sunday school classes. I hung onto the medical field as a career goal pretty much until I butted heads with chemistry classes and realized that medicine was going to require a lot more math and science than I had any interest in -- or aptitude for -- taking. Scratch that one.
Had I stuck with the medical field, I would not have chosen the college I did, and everything would have been different. Everything.
When I hit early high school, I had a spiritual experience at church camp that convinced me I wanted to be a minister (United Methodist Church), and pretty much held onto that through most of high school, even being awarded a Christian service scholarship. It's quite likely that at times I was fairly insufferable, although my view of Christianity and the church's place in the world was very ecumenical and very involved with social justice issues -- clearly a precursor to my admittedly liberal opinions as an adult. I got to attend a variety of church-related conferences and workshops, and met so many interesting people in doing so.
And then in the latter part of my freshman year, that goal changed. I had joined various 'Christian' groups on campus -- not difficult in a church-related college -- and taken the 'Baby Bible' required courses: a semester of Old Testament studies, a semester of New Testament studies. But I started to question everything, including the core Christian belief of the Resurrection: clearly not a good thing for a wanna-be clergyperson to do, huh. Scratch that one too.
As it was, I experienced infertility and my then-husband and I adopted our daughter after a multi-year wait. Scratch the four-to-six kids.
And scratch the boyfriend I had for four years in high school and early college, too, and with whom I'd planned to spend my life. He's gay and is in a wonderful long-term relationship: they came to our wedding in 2000.
I am so grateful that my life has unfolded the way it has, even through the hard stuff and the heartaches. I would never have believed that at age 50 I would fall in love with a man who deeply adores the quicksand I walk on. I would never have believed that I would move to California (of all places -- Colorado would have been so much higher on my list back then!) and live by the ocean and end up in a rural valley between mountain ranges in a house I designed with my honey. I would never have believed that I would do even half of the things I've done -- not all of them pleasant, but each remarkable.
And that's all good, isn't it. We create our own destiny, minute by minute, year by year, experience by experience, hopefully building on what we learn to create a life we love. I have no expectations for these coming years of my life -- other than hope they will be numerous and happy -- but instead try to live and cherish each day, one at a time, and give thanks for it. What an incredible ride it's all been so far!
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Scintilla#13, Day 7
The choices:
1. Write about someone who was a mentor for you.
2. What have been the event horizons of your life - the moments from which there is no turning back?
While I know I've had mentors -- my parents, a fantastic youth pastor, even my ex -- no one really stands out. I'm pretty much a do-it-my-way person, and most jobs I've had have been in one-person departments or as an individual contributor. I never climbed a corporate ladder so had no mentor there either.
So that leaves #2.
The pivotal event horizon for my life was where I decided to go to college, and then two years later, decided to stay there to complete my degree rather than transfer to a larger school (although I'd been accepted at a couple).
Those last two years put me on a track that has determined nearly everything else.
It was a small school affiliated with the United Methodist Church and nicknamed '52 acres of Christian atmosphere.' It was in a tiny rural county seat town, just 30 miles from the University of Missouri, but since few people in those days had cars on campus, it might as well have been 300 miles.
The quality of education was adequate; I had some wonderful professors in my major field, English, but I don't know that I was especially challenged there or in any other class. After my freshman year, I spent much of my free time at the campus radio station and learned news reporting, a choice that would influence the rest of my career. I also met my husband (now ex) and married slightly more than a month after I graduated.
That choice determined where I would live for the next 27 years as we moved five times in three states for his jobs, and then I would find jobs or freelance, which then formed my experience and resume. We adopted our daughter which changed nearly everything, both good and not so good.
While there were other, lesser, life choices made during that time, it wasn't until I was in my 40s that I began to really see the crossroads when I was standing at them, which made the decisions much more analytical and difficult.
And then when I was approaching my 50th birthday, I made another crucial choice -- to leave the marriage and move to California -- which changed the course of my life. And I've never been happier.
1. Write about someone who was a mentor for you.
2. What have been the event horizons of your life - the moments from which there is no turning back?
While I know I've had mentors -- my parents, a fantastic youth pastor, even my ex -- no one really stands out. I'm pretty much a do-it-my-way person, and most jobs I've had have been in one-person departments or as an individual contributor. I never climbed a corporate ladder so had no mentor there either.
So that leaves #2.
The pivotal event horizon for my life was where I decided to go to college, and then two years later, decided to stay there to complete my degree rather than transfer to a larger school (although I'd been accepted at a couple).
Those last two years put me on a track that has determined nearly everything else.
It was a small school affiliated with the United Methodist Church and nicknamed '52 acres of Christian atmosphere.' It was in a tiny rural county seat town, just 30 miles from the University of Missouri, but since few people in those days had cars on campus, it might as well have been 300 miles.
The quality of education was adequate; I had some wonderful professors in my major field, English, but I don't know that I was especially challenged there or in any other class. After my freshman year, I spent much of my free time at the campus radio station and learned news reporting, a choice that would influence the rest of my career. I also met my husband (now ex) and married slightly more than a month after I graduated.
That choice determined where I would live for the next 27 years as we moved five times in three states for his jobs, and then I would find jobs or freelance, which then formed my experience and resume. We adopted our daughter which changed nearly everything, both good and not so good.
While there were other, lesser, life choices made during that time, it wasn't until I was in my 40s that I began to really see the crossroads when I was standing at them, which made the decisions much more analytical and difficult.
And then when I was approaching my 50th birthday, I made another crucial choice -- to leave the marriage and move to California -- which changed the course of my life. And I've never been happier.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Reverb11 - Day 27 - Ah, more time. And the name of that book...you know, the one I should be writing?
#1 Prompt: Time: If you had 3 more hours in the day what would you do with them? How do you want to spend your time in 2012?
#2 Prompt: Author! Author! - Share with us the title and inside jacket cover of the book you'd most like to write
#1 -- What would I do with more time? Read more. Maybe sleep one more hour. And maybe, sort of, use it to de-clutter one of the areas that needs it. Maybe. Then again, maybe not.
This year I really began to get into a routine for my days, and I'm sure 2012 will involve finding some new ones as Tony retires. I'd like to spend less time just putzing on the computer: I can spend hours going from link to link and reading blogs, news, shopping (although not necessarily buying anything), finding new sites. It is a time-sucker and there have been a few days when I've been fairly horrified at the amount of time I've spent online. I love the Internet, but sometimes I need better self-control, especially when I'm procrastinating doing something. So I'd like to be a little more discplined about how I choose to use my time, and make sure that I'm spending it on things that I love doing or that are necessary for the good of the order, and not squandering it.
#2. Oh, they WOULD ask this one. Okay. Title: "Old Musings and a Few Opinions".
Inside jacket copy: Some life lessons keep coming back for a reprise -- things like learning patience, seeing situations as they really are, and dealing with such issues as addiction, dysfunction, and trust. Mix all that with stories about family, children, friends, neighbors, and middle-of-the-night revelations, and you'll find universal truths and wisdom found through trial and error."
And there probably would be a bit more description. This might turn into a daily reading book with the quote/story of the day, or more of an Anne Lamott-style narrative story. I don't know yet. And I don't know if anyone would even want to read it. But that's the book I would probably work on first.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Reverb11 - Day 25 - Who I love and the best gift ever
#1 Prompt: Love: Who do you love + why do you love them? What does it feel like to be around these people?
#1 -- The person I most love is my husband Tony, who has always on Christmas Day given me either a beautifully sentimental card or written me a letter. He opted for the latter this year and although I love the cards, the letters are the most special, and yes, they get kept.
In it, he writes of the Christmases we've spent together (this is the 15th), how he feels about that and about me and about the myriad of things that I do to make the day special for us, and, well -- a lot of wonderfully loving language that you don't need to hear because it's meant just for me.
How could I not love that? But I knew I loved him and that we were right together almost from the very first day I met him. Every day, every hug, every kiss reaffirms that for me, over and over. And my gratitude for him simply overflows my heart. After all these years, I love his touch, I love it when I see him coming towards me in a group, I love watching his face when he doesn't know I'm watching him. He is my rock, my calm center, my home, no matter where I am. How lucky I am to have this. How lucky we are to have found each other.
There are others whom I love dearly -- brother, sister-in-law, daughters, friends -- but I think the ability to love comes from first being shown great love: the more love you receive, the more you have to give to others. When your own well runs dry, it's hard to find a drop for others. I am grateful to those who love me so well, and I hope you receive back from me that gift.
#2 -- There have been some wonderful gifts in my past, and a few maybe not so much (think Crock Pot...from my husband ... ex)
The one that I best remember is a personal life album (scrapbook) and family history made by my mother and father in 1997, I think, or maybe 1996. She had been so painfully sick with osteoporosis and heart issues that year that their traveling days had to stop, and she had quite a lot of time at home. She had gone through decades of newspaper clippings, photographs, school records, and the other keepsake papers, written a family tree geneology for each side of our family. She'd made a collage of pictures for the cover -- and this was not only for me, but she also put ones together for my brother and for my daughter, so each was different, with a few of the same elements.
They began with old pictures of each family -- our grandparents and great-grandparents, along with their names and a brief history. Where there were appropriate photos of us interacting with them, they were included -- like the four generation one of me, my father, my grandmother and my great-grandmother, taken when I was maybe 2 or 3. She'd chosen photos of me at all the stages (to that point) of my life: child, teen, college student, young married woman, young mother, middle-aged working mom, etc., and of the people who have been so important in my life, along with other little news clips or keepsakes from her treasure box (her wedding hankie, for instance, was in my daughter's album).
It was a beautiful gift and we all three looked at them all day, sharing memories, sharing some of the different elements of each book, telling stories, and listening to my mother and dad tell theirs. I have custody of the albums from which the life album photos were chosen, but none is more precious to me than the one she spent that year putting together for me.
What they cost was time, her time and my dad's, because he was there helping her choose photos, pasting them in, remembering stories along with her. That gift of time and memory is still the best one I've ever received.
How blessed I am!
Sunday, November 20, 2011
20 things I wish I'd known earlier
I've been thinking about doing this list ever since I read this blog post on The Lettered Cottage. Layla Palmer illustrated hers with wonderful photos and included some of her favorite quotes, and I loved it.
So on the eve of my 64th birthday -- how did I get to be this old so fast! -- here are some things that I would tell my teenage self. I'm not putting photos here, but picture your own self as you were when you were a high school senior with all those dreams and desires and plans.
I probably wouldn't have listened carefully enough back then to have understood some of the ramifications of my actions and non-actions. And I probably wouldn't have believed some of the stories that I now tell about my life. But for what it's worth, here is what I would say now to my teenage self:
1. You are pretty, although I know you don't think so now. You're taller than average, yes, and you desperately envy the girls with the great hair and bubbly personalities who are "average" height and weight and build. But one day a man is going to fall head-over-heels in love with you and your long legs, your green eyes, your straight, fine hair, and your what-you-see-is-what-you-get personality, and he's going to tell you every day how loved you are, how pretty you are, and how lucky he is. You will feel like you won the lottery with him. Promise.
2. Your big voice that carries so far and that you try so hard to control will serve you well one day. People will want to hear your words.
3. Your mother and father love you more than you will understand for many years. Cherish the family times; listen to their stories; hug them every time you get the chance, and listen to their advice, even when it irritates the living crap out of you. One day you will miss hearing their voices so much that it makes you cry.
4. Not everyone is going to like you, and you aren't going to like some of them either, and that's okay. You don't have to be a people-pleaser; in fact, you'll be better off if you just be who you are instead of who you think they want you to be.
5. Listen more than you talk: you'll learn more that way. Everyone has a story that they want to tell someone.
6. And think before you speak: be sure the brain is engaged before the mouth opens. Your words carry a lot of weight: be sure your message is clear. You are very good at the quick, sarcastic comeback, but it can hurt others, and you really do not want to do that.
7. Take care of your body: parts wear out faster than you'd think.
8. Moisturize your neck. Really.
9. Write. Keep a journal. Remember stories and practice writing them down. You'll make money from writing, and you're good at it, better than you think you are. You will want to write a book.
10. Be easier on yourself. Disbar that critical judge that lives in your head who tells you all the shoulda-coulda-woulda stuff. Be who you really are, and love yourself.
11. Be kind, even when you do not feel kindly. There is not enough kindness, ever. Thumper had it right: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."
12. Be careful with the alcohol, the chocolate, the rich, fried, buttery foods. It is all about portion control. And you'll never not love sweets, but you'll eat more veggies than you could ever think.
13. Practice gratitude every day. Even on the worst days you can find something to be grateful for -- a hot shower, a cup of Earl Grey tea in your grandmother's china teacup, clean sheets. It makes things easier.
14. Ask for help. You do not have to do it all yourself. You CANNOT do it all yourself, although you'll try and suffer for it until you learn better.
15. Cherish your friends, but be sure you know who they are. Not everyone is trustworthy: guard your confidences.
16. Children are a mixed blessing. You will love your children more than you could imagine, but you will also suffer great pain when things happen to them that a kiss and a hug can't make better. This will always be true.
17. Live each day as though it were the only one you have, because you never know if it might be. Plan for the future, but live in the moment. And let go what is past: you can't change what happened.
18. Time speeds up as you get older. Do things you really want to do sooner than later. Listen to that little voice way deep inside you: it will steer you where you need to go even if others are telling you differently.
19. Be patient. Wait for what is right. This will be a lesson that keeps coming back to you, one day at a time.
20. Do. Not. Settle. Not for a relationship, not for a job, not for a dream. Get clear about what you want, and then make it happen. You have tremendous power within yourself.
What would you tell your 17-year-old self?
So on the eve of my 64th birthday -- how did I get to be this old so fast! -- here are some things that I would tell my teenage self. I'm not putting photos here, but picture your own self as you were when you were a high school senior with all those dreams and desires and plans.
I probably wouldn't have listened carefully enough back then to have understood some of the ramifications of my actions and non-actions. And I probably wouldn't have believed some of the stories that I now tell about my life. But for what it's worth, here is what I would say now to my teenage self:
1. You are pretty, although I know you don't think so now. You're taller than average, yes, and you desperately envy the girls with the great hair and bubbly personalities who are "average" height and weight and build. But one day a man is going to fall head-over-heels in love with you and your long legs, your green eyes, your straight, fine hair, and your what-you-see-is-what-you-get personality, and he's going to tell you every day how loved you are, how pretty you are, and how lucky he is. You will feel like you won the lottery with him. Promise.
2. Your big voice that carries so far and that you try so hard to control will serve you well one day. People will want to hear your words.
3. Your mother and father love you more than you will understand for many years. Cherish the family times; listen to their stories; hug them every time you get the chance, and listen to their advice, even when it irritates the living crap out of you. One day you will miss hearing their voices so much that it makes you cry.
4. Not everyone is going to like you, and you aren't going to like some of them either, and that's okay. You don't have to be a people-pleaser; in fact, you'll be better off if you just be who you are instead of who you think they want you to be.
5. Listen more than you talk: you'll learn more that way. Everyone has a story that they want to tell someone.
6. And think before you speak: be sure the brain is engaged before the mouth opens. Your words carry a lot of weight: be sure your message is clear. You are very good at the quick, sarcastic comeback, but it can hurt others, and you really do not want to do that.
7. Take care of your body: parts wear out faster than you'd think.
8. Moisturize your neck. Really.
9. Write. Keep a journal. Remember stories and practice writing them down. You'll make money from writing, and you're good at it, better than you think you are. You will want to write a book.
10. Be easier on yourself. Disbar that critical judge that lives in your head who tells you all the shoulda-coulda-woulda stuff. Be who you really are, and love yourself.
11. Be kind, even when you do not feel kindly. There is not enough kindness, ever. Thumper had it right: "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."
12. Be careful with the alcohol, the chocolate, the rich, fried, buttery foods. It is all about portion control. And you'll never not love sweets, but you'll eat more veggies than you could ever think.
13. Practice gratitude every day. Even on the worst days you can find something to be grateful for -- a hot shower, a cup of Earl Grey tea in your grandmother's china teacup, clean sheets. It makes things easier.
14. Ask for help. You do not have to do it all yourself. You CANNOT do it all yourself, although you'll try and suffer for it until you learn better.
15. Cherish your friends, but be sure you know who they are. Not everyone is trustworthy: guard your confidences.
16. Children are a mixed blessing. You will love your children more than you could imagine, but you will also suffer great pain when things happen to them that a kiss and a hug can't make better. This will always be true.
17. Live each day as though it were the only one you have, because you never know if it might be. Plan for the future, but live in the moment. And let go what is past: you can't change what happened.
18. Time speeds up as you get older. Do things you really want to do sooner than later. Listen to that little voice way deep inside you: it will steer you where you need to go even if others are telling you differently.
19. Be patient. Wait for what is right. This will be a lesson that keeps coming back to you, one day at a time.
20. Do. Not. Settle. Not for a relationship, not for a job, not for a dream. Get clear about what you want, and then make it happen. You have tremendous power within yourself.
What would you tell your 17-year-old self?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
June doings
It's not for lack of subjects or opinions that I haven't posted since early this month. I have plenty to say, as those who know me well will attest, and sometimes I'm sure they wish I'd shut up.
I participated in a mystery dinner theater mid month to benefit our county's branding project -- a fund raiser for a professional marketing and branding guru to create campaigns that highlight our county's biggest assets -- among them are wine and olives.
It was an experience. I've done this before, about five years ago, and it's fairly corny -- lots of scantily clad women (excluding me, I might add), chase scenes, cat fights, raunchy humor, and a thin plot. The crowd loved it. It was a sellout both nights. And it involved a fair bit of rehearsal that last week, and a lot of willingness to adapt and change. It wasn't a particularly artistic experience and I sure didn't 'stretch' my acting -- I mean, I can play overbearing and bitchy blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back -- but the cast members are wonderful and I loved nurturing those relationships. That was the payoff for me.
On top of that I'd waited until the 11th hour to finish the 45-hour required real estate coursework to renew my license for another four years, not that I really plan on using it. But it took a lot of work to get it and you never know... so I was studying and taking online tests during the early part of the month as well. It's done. I could indeed sell real estate again in California, under a licensed broker.
And then there was a memorial service for a woman we met only a few times but are good friends with her partner and wanted to support him. It was an amazing service and I only hope that when my time comes that people are as loving and generous with their tributes as we heard at this service.
One thing in particular made me wish I'd known her better. Her spiritual path was very important to her and she'd studied in India, worked with practitioners from various spiritual paths, and her service was held in a Christian church designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She was completely comfortable incorporating ALL of these practices into her own spiritual belief system and embraced all of them -- I love that, and found that to be eye-opening, especially since there were so many others there who seemed to feel the same way. The service was a mashup of Eastern chants, Christian ritual, music from all of them, and poetry. Many were dancing at the end as a trio sang "The Great Storm"; my leaky face dripped tears because it was so perfect, such a joyous acknowledgement of who this woman was, of who we all can be.
There is no doubt that her children and our friend will miss her terribly, and there were moments of grief that just tore at your heart, but it was a great sending-off and ended with a reception and chocolate cake -- her wishes, since she was known for her desserts and homemade bread. She was only 65 and died of cancer -- a fairly prolonged death, hard on her and those who loved her.
Then this last Saturday, we recorded Tony's first radio theater script for New Radio Theater. His is an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and a number of wonderful north state actors came together to interpret it. We were cast as the great cobra Nag and his wife Nagaina, and had a great time hissing evilly. This is Tony's first script and he was just delighted that it was accepted and recorded for play later in July. I'll put the date and time as soon as I know for sure. It was quite a red-letter day for him, and I was very proud of him and the end result. He's now at work on an original script.
And earlier in the month we had a lovely picnic with our now three-year-old grandson, his brothers and sister, and our daughter V in a park area near their home. Gabe took to the plasmacar that we gave him without any instruction and rode it all over the adjacent parking lot, as did the other kids and even his momma! It was a fun afternoon, a little piece of normalcy and celebration within a lot of busy-ness and turmoil.
That's the 'doing' stuff for this month. There has been more 'being' stuff going on too, some of which I'm still pondering and trying to figure out. Not all of it has been especially fun -- including the ongoing state of the economy and turmoil over the budget, and with that, Medicare and Social Security, topics which at our age loom quite large in our priorities. Change is afoot for our children again, and we have become pretty good at holding our opinions and tongues close, although it is an uneasy compromise at times.
And the month which began in rain and cool weather also draws to a close with more rain and cool temperatures today (although we'll be up to 100 this weekend again) -- unusual weather for these parts, welcome though it was. Friday will bring a new month with new beginnings and who knows what endings we may find.
I participated in a mystery dinner theater mid month to benefit our county's branding project -- a fund raiser for a professional marketing and branding guru to create campaigns that highlight our county's biggest assets -- among them are wine and olives.
It was an experience. I've done this before, about five years ago, and it's fairly corny -- lots of scantily clad women (excluding me, I might add), chase scenes, cat fights, raunchy humor, and a thin plot. The crowd loved it. It was a sellout both nights. And it involved a fair bit of rehearsal that last week, and a lot of willingness to adapt and change. It wasn't a particularly artistic experience and I sure didn't 'stretch' my acting -- I mean, I can play overbearing and bitchy blindfolded with both hands tied behind my back -- but the cast members are wonderful and I loved nurturing those relationships. That was the payoff for me.
On top of that I'd waited until the 11th hour to finish the 45-hour required real estate coursework to renew my license for another four years, not that I really plan on using it. But it took a lot of work to get it and you never know... so I was studying and taking online tests during the early part of the month as well. It's done. I could indeed sell real estate again in California, under a licensed broker.
And then there was a memorial service for a woman we met only a few times but are good friends with her partner and wanted to support him. It was an amazing service and I only hope that when my time comes that people are as loving and generous with their tributes as we heard at this service.
One thing in particular made me wish I'd known her better. Her spiritual path was very important to her and she'd studied in India, worked with practitioners from various spiritual paths, and her service was held in a Christian church designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. She was completely comfortable incorporating ALL of these practices into her own spiritual belief system and embraced all of them -- I love that, and found that to be eye-opening, especially since there were so many others there who seemed to feel the same way. The service was a mashup of Eastern chants, Christian ritual, music from all of them, and poetry. Many were dancing at the end as a trio sang "The Great Storm"; my leaky face dripped tears because it was so perfect, such a joyous acknowledgement of who this woman was, of who we all can be.
There is no doubt that her children and our friend will miss her terribly, and there were moments of grief that just tore at your heart, but it was a great sending-off and ended with a reception and chocolate cake -- her wishes, since she was known for her desserts and homemade bread. She was only 65 and died of cancer -- a fairly prolonged death, hard on her and those who loved her.
Then this last Saturday, we recorded Tony's first radio theater script for New Radio Theater. His is an adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, and a number of wonderful north state actors came together to interpret it. We were cast as the great cobra Nag and his wife Nagaina, and had a great time hissing evilly. This is Tony's first script and he was just delighted that it was accepted and recorded for play later in July. I'll put the date and time as soon as I know for sure. It was quite a red-letter day for him, and I was very proud of him and the end result. He's now at work on an original script.
And earlier in the month we had a lovely picnic with our now three-year-old grandson, his brothers and sister, and our daughter V in a park area near their home. Gabe took to the plasmacar that we gave him without any instruction and rode it all over the adjacent parking lot, as did the other kids and even his momma! It was a fun afternoon, a little piece of normalcy and celebration within a lot of busy-ness and turmoil.
That's the 'doing' stuff for this month. There has been more 'being' stuff going on too, some of which I'm still pondering and trying to figure out. Not all of it has been especially fun -- including the ongoing state of the economy and turmoil over the budget, and with that, Medicare and Social Security, topics which at our age loom quite large in our priorities. Change is afoot for our children again, and we have become pretty good at holding our opinions and tongues close, although it is an uneasy compromise at times.
And the month which began in rain and cool weather also draws to a close with more rain and cool temperatures today (although we'll be up to 100 this weekend again) -- unusual weather for these parts, welcome though it was. Friday will bring a new month with new beginnings and who knows what endings we may find.
Monday, November 23, 2009
Managing time
With another birth year celebrated this past weekend, I have been a bit introspective about life in general, my life specifically, and what I want for this coming year.
It's not for lack of subjects that I haven't written since Oct. 30. And it's really not even for lack of time. I'm examining time management -- what I do with the time I have every day, the same 24 hours we all have.
Back in my late 30s and 40s, I managed time rather well, between managing a household, a school age child, a job and half hour commute each way, chorus rehearsals, church meetings and rehearsals, grocery shopping, and the usual household stuff.
You do what you gotta do, I suppose, and mostly I think I did pretty well. Yes, I probably immersed myself in lots and lots of 'doing' but that's what was required at the time.
I don't seem to be as efficient these days. I know I spent more time than I should on the computer, poking around, reading blogs, writing a bit, researching, playing a stupid game or two. I still have the grocery shopping and assorted errands, and I help daughter #1 manage things that she has trouble with or is hesitant to do by herself.
My mother always seemed to have a clean house (of course we helped by cleaning our rooms without fail every Saturday, as well as other chores), things organized, cupboards and drawers that weren't jumbled, and still had time to play bridge, walk, and for many years, she was a teacher and still did all that. She and Daddy square-danced for years, attended church every Sunday where she worked in the library and he sang in the choir, had an active social life with a couple of groups.
So why are my cupboards and drawers jumbled, many with stray crumbs in the corners? Why is my office desk covered with papers and piles of source material for stories? There are two or three baskets full of magazines -- Cooking Light, Bon Appetit, Sunset -- that I am sure I'll go through one of these days. I have a box with old Christmas cards stashed under the desk, and my laundry basket always, ALWAYS has a dozen socks whose mates have gone on vacation -- but you can be assured that if I throw them away, I'll find the mate the next day.
My house is not dirty. I dust, vacuum, keep counters clean, and -- okay, I'll confess that sometimes I do leave dirty pots or dishes from a late evening dessert snack soaking in the sink overnight -- but I do try to keep the kitchen reasonably tidy. My bed is made every day, but there is always a stack of magazines on the floor and books on the table next to my side. We always have newspapers and magazines on the ottoman in the living room, although I try to put them in the recycling bin every night or at least straighten the stack.
Somehow I'd assumed that by the time I got to be this age that I'd be an excellent housekeeper and that it would all be effortless.
But it isn't. And I'm not.
The office is right now a catch-all for stuff I intend to sell on eBay, the aforementioned source materials and notebooks filled with interview notes, mail that needs shredding or answering, scraps of paper that have phone numbers or Web sites on them. I have a beautiful new workbench waiting to be assembled, but first I have to clean everything else up and rearrange my desk and computer station, and hopefully eliminate at least one or two pieces that are currently holding printers or files. I LIVE in the office most days. It's where the treadmill is, the computers, the photo equipment, the eBay goodies. But it's a mess.
It should have been cleaned by now, my inner critic says. I should manage myself better and not spend so much time reading stuff online or playing that stupid Facebook Bejeweled Blitz. I'm an ADULT, ferpetesake, an old one at that! I ought to know better. Priorities!
Sixty used to feel pretty old to me when I was in my 30s and 40s. Oh, I knew plenty of 60-somethings who were very active and had a really good time with life, and they seemed to have life pretty well figured out. Yeah, issues sometimes threw curveballs at them, but overall, life was good.
And I guess that's where I am. Overall, life is good. Yes, I need to work on time managment and getting the office cleaned up and crumbs out of my silverware drawers. But what I also know is that life is short. Spending time writing notes to a friend who is sick is more important. Reading something that inspires me and makes me smile is important. Walking on that treadmill and watching a tv show on hulu.com while I do it is important. Being there for my daughter is important, and being there for my husband is important. Taking care of me is really important, even if papers clutter the desk.
Meanwhile, I'd sure love to ask my mother how she did it, why she managed her time the way she did, and what she'd change if she could. I wonder if she felt like she had it all together when she was my age. I wonder what age she felt inside when she was in her 60s. I wonder if she liked her life the way it was.
It's not for lack of subjects that I haven't written since Oct. 30. And it's really not even for lack of time. I'm examining time management -- what I do with the time I have every day, the same 24 hours we all have.
Back in my late 30s and 40s, I managed time rather well, between managing a household, a school age child, a job and half hour commute each way, chorus rehearsals, church meetings and rehearsals, grocery shopping, and the usual household stuff.
You do what you gotta do, I suppose, and mostly I think I did pretty well. Yes, I probably immersed myself in lots and lots of 'doing' but that's what was required at the time.
I don't seem to be as efficient these days. I know I spent more time than I should on the computer, poking around, reading blogs, writing a bit, researching, playing a stupid game or two. I still have the grocery shopping and assorted errands, and I help daughter #1 manage things that she has trouble with or is hesitant to do by herself.
My mother always seemed to have a clean house (of course we helped by cleaning our rooms without fail every Saturday, as well as other chores), things organized, cupboards and drawers that weren't jumbled, and still had time to play bridge, walk, and for many years, she was a teacher and still did all that. She and Daddy square-danced for years, attended church every Sunday where she worked in the library and he sang in the choir, had an active social life with a couple of groups.
So why are my cupboards and drawers jumbled, many with stray crumbs in the corners? Why is my office desk covered with papers and piles of source material for stories? There are two or three baskets full of magazines -- Cooking Light, Bon Appetit, Sunset -- that I am sure I'll go through one of these days. I have a box with old Christmas cards stashed under the desk, and my laundry basket always, ALWAYS has a dozen socks whose mates have gone on vacation -- but you can be assured that if I throw them away, I'll find the mate the next day.
My house is not dirty. I dust, vacuum, keep counters clean, and -- okay, I'll confess that sometimes I do leave dirty pots or dishes from a late evening dessert snack soaking in the sink overnight -- but I do try to keep the kitchen reasonably tidy. My bed is made every day, but there is always a stack of magazines on the floor and books on the table next to my side. We always have newspapers and magazines on the ottoman in the living room, although I try to put them in the recycling bin every night or at least straighten the stack.
Somehow I'd assumed that by the time I got to be this age that I'd be an excellent housekeeper and that it would all be effortless.
But it isn't. And I'm not.
The office is right now a catch-all for stuff I intend to sell on eBay, the aforementioned source materials and notebooks filled with interview notes, mail that needs shredding or answering, scraps of paper that have phone numbers or Web sites on them. I have a beautiful new workbench waiting to be assembled, but first I have to clean everything else up and rearrange my desk and computer station, and hopefully eliminate at least one or two pieces that are currently holding printers or files. I LIVE in the office most days. It's where the treadmill is, the computers, the photo equipment, the eBay goodies. But it's a mess.
It should have been cleaned by now, my inner critic says. I should manage myself better and not spend so much time reading stuff online or playing that stupid Facebook Bejeweled Blitz. I'm an ADULT, ferpetesake, an old one at that! I ought to know better. Priorities!
Sixty used to feel pretty old to me when I was in my 30s and 40s. Oh, I knew plenty of 60-somethings who were very active and had a really good time with life, and they seemed to have life pretty well figured out. Yeah, issues sometimes threw curveballs at them, but overall, life was good.
And I guess that's where I am. Overall, life is good. Yes, I need to work on time managment and getting the office cleaned up and crumbs out of my silverware drawers. But what I also know is that life is short. Spending time writing notes to a friend who is sick is more important. Reading something that inspires me and makes me smile is important. Walking on that treadmill and watching a tv show on hulu.com while I do it is important. Being there for my daughter is important, and being there for my husband is important. Taking care of me is really important, even if papers clutter the desk.
Meanwhile, I'd sure love to ask my mother how she did it, why she managed her time the way she did, and what she'd change if she could. I wonder if she felt like she had it all together when she was my age. I wonder what age she felt inside when she was in her 60s. I wonder if she liked her life the way it was.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Time flies, whether you're having fun or not
As if it wasn't enough to perform "Steel Magnolias" five times a week, I watched the movie yesterday. I have always loved that movie. Even though I knew what was coming, I sobbed anyway.
But since we're well into production, I wanted to see how the six women stars played their characters. It'd been a long time since I watched it. And it holds up well.
One of the things that touched me greatly, though, was in the features section of the DVD, seeing playwright Robert Harling speak about why he wrote the play in the first place. I knew it was a form of grief therapy for him when his beloved sister Susan died, much the same way that Shelby does. But he elaborates some, and I could feel the anguish of the brother at losing her at such a young age. He wanted his nephew to know a little more about his mother, to understand what she did in choosing to have him.
That, and seeing all those actresses 20 years younger, made me think of my own age, my own stage in life now, and all the things I missed out on as a younger person -- all the wasted time, the ill-thought choices.
Not that there weren't some great times and some good choices, mind you. And I wouldn't go back and do it again, not really.
But for some reason seeing the movie made me aware -- again -- of how brief our life here really is, and how unaware we are of that when we are young(er).
In our 20s and 30s, and yes, even the 40s, the awareness of our own mortality is usually non-existent, barring life-threatening illness, accident, or the early deaths of those we love. I, at least, plowed through any number of days without appreciating what I had, even squandering them by not taking care of myself physically (or mentally), just sort of meandering through years without a lot of focus on who I am and what I wanted.
I was a "good" girl, pretty much doing what others expected me to do and be, with a few stubborn streaks thrown in and a couple of fairly bad habits, including smoking and drinking to excess. It wasn't until I was into my 30s that I began to cut those out of my life and to think about what I really wanted and to discover who I really was. And it took another 13-14 or so years to be able to decide what I wanted to do about it.
And while I don't spend time mulling over my past mistakes, I am aware now of how unaware I was -- how unaware my friends and acquaintances were -- of how precious time is. How you can not get back one single day, no matter how much money or love or wishing.
The conundrum, of course, is that you have to get older to really understand this. And then it's too late.
Not that life is over, mind you! No, as Shelby tells Clairee in the play, "There are still good times to be had!" And I do believe that. Life is what you choose to make of it, every day, one day at a time.
But my prime time is over. The 40-something generation is in the power years now -- this is their time now, their time to make the world different, to change their lives, to realize their potential. And the 30s are right on their heels.
I remember those years so clearly that it feels very odd to realize they are over and that part of my life is finished. It still startles me sometimes to catch a glimpse of myself in a window or a mirror and see the mantel of age draped over my hair and my skin and my posture. It's not unattractive, just not always in sync with how I think of myself.
But what really resonates is time: how quickly it goes, what I do with it. There is not a day that I don't say gratitude prayers -- many times a day -- for my husband, our home and friends, for my life as it is and the opportunities that I have and that present themselves so frequently. I didn't do that when I was younger, at least not often. I didn't cherish each day. I wasn't aware that I didn't have all the time I needed to effect whatever change I wanted to make.
I wasn't aware.
I don't know how to help my children understand that, if indeed it is even possible to make them understand it. Perhaps it takes age and perspective.
I can only hope that they will live long enough to see and to understand. I'm grateful that I have and do now.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you. ~Carl Sandburg
Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires. ~Charles Caleb Colton
Time is what we want most, but... what we use worst. ~William Penn
Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day. Rich people can't buy more hours. Scientists can't invent new minutes. And you can't save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you've wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow. ~Denis Waitely
But since we're well into production, I wanted to see how the six women stars played their characters. It'd been a long time since I watched it. And it holds up well.
One of the things that touched me greatly, though, was in the features section of the DVD, seeing playwright Robert Harling speak about why he wrote the play in the first place. I knew it was a form of grief therapy for him when his beloved sister Susan died, much the same way that Shelby does. But he elaborates some, and I could feel the anguish of the brother at losing her at such a young age. He wanted his nephew to know a little more about his mother, to understand what she did in choosing to have him.
That, and seeing all those actresses 20 years younger, made me think of my own age, my own stage in life now, and all the things I missed out on as a younger person -- all the wasted time, the ill-thought choices.
Not that there weren't some great times and some good choices, mind you. And I wouldn't go back and do it again, not really.
But for some reason seeing the movie made me aware -- again -- of how brief our life here really is, and how unaware we are of that when we are young(er).
In our 20s and 30s, and yes, even the 40s, the awareness of our own mortality is usually non-existent, barring life-threatening illness, accident, or the early deaths of those we love. I, at least, plowed through any number of days without appreciating what I had, even squandering them by not taking care of myself physically (or mentally), just sort of meandering through years without a lot of focus on who I am and what I wanted.
I was a "good" girl, pretty much doing what others expected me to do and be, with a few stubborn streaks thrown in and a couple of fairly bad habits, including smoking and drinking to excess. It wasn't until I was into my 30s that I began to cut those out of my life and to think about what I really wanted and to discover who I really was. And it took another 13-14 or so years to be able to decide what I wanted to do about it.
And while I don't spend time mulling over my past mistakes, I am aware now of how unaware I was -- how unaware my friends and acquaintances were -- of how precious time is. How you can not get back one single day, no matter how much money or love or wishing.
The conundrum, of course, is that you have to get older to really understand this. And then it's too late.
Not that life is over, mind you! No, as Shelby tells Clairee in the play, "There are still good times to be had!" And I do believe that. Life is what you choose to make of it, every day, one day at a time.
But my prime time is over. The 40-something generation is in the power years now -- this is their time now, their time to make the world different, to change their lives, to realize their potential. And the 30s are right on their heels.
I remember those years so clearly that it feels very odd to realize they are over and that part of my life is finished. It still startles me sometimes to catch a glimpse of myself in a window or a mirror and see the mantel of age draped over my hair and my skin and my posture. It's not unattractive, just not always in sync with how I think of myself.
But what really resonates is time: how quickly it goes, what I do with it. There is not a day that I don't say gratitude prayers -- many times a day -- for my husband, our home and friends, for my life as it is and the opportunities that I have and that present themselves so frequently. I didn't do that when I was younger, at least not often. I didn't cherish each day. I wasn't aware that I didn't have all the time I needed to effect whatever change I wanted to make.
I wasn't aware.
I don't know how to help my children understand that, if indeed it is even possible to make them understand it. Perhaps it takes age and perspective.
I can only hope that they will live long enough to see and to understand. I'm grateful that I have and do now.
Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you. ~Carl Sandburg
Time is the most undefinable yet paradoxical of things; the past is gone, the future is not come, and the present becomes the past even while we attempt to define it, and, like the flash of lightning, at once exists and expires. ~Charles Caleb Colton
Time is what we want most, but... what we use worst. ~William Penn
Time is an equal opportunity employer. Each human being has exactly the same number of hours and minutes every day. Rich people can't buy more hours. Scientists can't invent new minutes. And you can't save time to spend it on another day. Even so, time is amazingly fair and forgiving. No matter how much time you've wasted in the past, you still have an entire tomorrow. ~Denis Waitely
Friday, February 06, 2009
Getting sucked in
I'm tired of reading the many posts on this blog that deal with our daughters and their respective issues. I'm tired of seeing the same behaviors in them over and over and over. I'm tired of seeing the same behaviors in ME, over and over.
I resent that I worry about them, each of them, at different times. That they tell me about issues, either their own or the other's, and then leave it hanging, so that I am fretting over stupidity or health or stability or money.
I want to stop that.
I don't want to get sucked in to their drama anymore.
I'm not quite sure how to accomplish that and make it stick. Ignoring it doesn't make it go away. I love them and don't want them to feel that I'm deserting them, but I'm not sure how to maintain some balance here.
Actually, I've been doing pretty well at doing things I love to do and meeting my commitments, but I worry nonetheless, and I know it isn't good for me.
I guess I just need to remember, yet again, that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that they will do what they will. But....I do believe that my words can make a difference to them....I've seen that happen.
Either that, or they're blowing sunshine at me, and I'm falling for it, yet again...
Eh.
So let me talk about rain. It's not a lot, but it is nice to have gray skies and even occasional raindrops. It's good to have a fire in the woodstove to take off the chill: it is not particularly cold, just chilly. I did see trees in bloom downtown yesterday, though, and that is not good. We have had such unseasonably warm weather that things are waking up, and they need to stay put a little longer.
I'm longing for the ocean these days, to hear that deep, calming heartbeat thrumming through my whole body, to feel the cold sting of the water on my feet, to watch the endless series of waves, and the shorebirds running to meet each new ruffle as it breaks on the beach. To see pelicans swooping and diving in perfect formation. To smell the salt-fresh air and take it deep into my lungs. We need a trip, even a day trip.
I'm reading eclectically: right now it's Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser, who I saw on Oprah. I'm barely into it, but like what she's saying and agree that in our breaking open our pain and silence that we become who we are, even if we can't even see the possibility of happiness when we're so caught up in the pain of the moment.
But I also have read the latest of Diane Mott Davidson's cooking murder books, Sweet Revenge -- just a fun read, although I get hungry when I read her very rich recipes. I read Anne Rivers Siddons' new one, Off Season, set in Maine of course, and loved it until the ending, which I did not love at all (unusual for her books). I finished the latest Nora Roberts trilogy, truly a beach-read-style book and just plain escape. And I also read one titled I'm Still Your Mother, which was okay, but doesn't really speak to how to parent grown children who have 'issues'.
That's in addition to the various O magazines -- still a great read for the money -- Newsweeks, Business Weeks, various blogs, two daily newspapers, and assorted others that come in here.
It's been good to really read again. I always read something before I turn out the light, but often I have very little time during the day to read. One day over Christmas that was all I did, other than fix a few meals. It was wonderful.
I'm feeling the need to move -- to get some exercise of some kind, just because I'm so aware of diminished strength in my body and legs from doing so much sedentary work! I finally settled on a pair of good athletic shoes and they offer good support, so that excuse is gone. I just wish I liked something physical well enough to want to do it often.
It's already February. I am determined to make the most of every day, every month, and not spend useless time in worry or fear. I can change only one person -- me. And I'm working on that.
I resent that I worry about them, each of them, at different times. That they tell me about issues, either their own or the other's, and then leave it hanging, so that I am fretting over stupidity or health or stability or money.
I want to stop that.
I don't want to get sucked in to their drama anymore.
I'm not quite sure how to accomplish that and make it stick. Ignoring it doesn't make it go away. I love them and don't want them to feel that I'm deserting them, but I'm not sure how to maintain some balance here.
Actually, I've been doing pretty well at doing things I love to do and meeting my commitments, but I worry nonetheless, and I know it isn't good for me.
I guess I just need to remember, yet again, that I am powerless over people, places and things, and that they will do what they will. But....I do believe that my words can make a difference to them....I've seen that happen.
Either that, or they're blowing sunshine at me, and I'm falling for it, yet again...
Eh.
So let me talk about rain. It's not a lot, but it is nice to have gray skies and even occasional raindrops. It's good to have a fire in the woodstove to take off the chill: it is not particularly cold, just chilly. I did see trees in bloom downtown yesterday, though, and that is not good. We have had such unseasonably warm weather that things are waking up, and they need to stay put a little longer.
I'm longing for the ocean these days, to hear that deep, calming heartbeat thrumming through my whole body, to feel the cold sting of the water on my feet, to watch the endless series of waves, and the shorebirds running to meet each new ruffle as it breaks on the beach. To see pelicans swooping and diving in perfect formation. To smell the salt-fresh air and take it deep into my lungs. We need a trip, even a day trip.
I'm reading eclectically: right now it's Broken Open by Elizabeth Lesser, who I saw on Oprah. I'm barely into it, but like what she's saying and agree that in our breaking open our pain and silence that we become who we are, even if we can't even see the possibility of happiness when we're so caught up in the pain of the moment.
But I also have read the latest of Diane Mott Davidson's cooking murder books, Sweet Revenge -- just a fun read, although I get hungry when I read her very rich recipes. I read Anne Rivers Siddons' new one, Off Season, set in Maine of course, and loved it until the ending, which I did not love at all (unusual for her books). I finished the latest Nora Roberts trilogy, truly a beach-read-style book and just plain escape. And I also read one titled I'm Still Your Mother, which was okay, but doesn't really speak to how to parent grown children who have 'issues'.
That's in addition to the various O magazines -- still a great read for the money -- Newsweeks, Business Weeks, various blogs, two daily newspapers, and assorted others that come in here.
It's been good to really read again. I always read something before I turn out the light, but often I have very little time during the day to read. One day over Christmas that was all I did, other than fix a few meals. It was wonderful.
I'm feeling the need to move -- to get some exercise of some kind, just because I'm so aware of diminished strength in my body and legs from doing so much sedentary work! I finally settled on a pair of good athletic shoes and they offer good support, so that excuse is gone. I just wish I liked something physical well enough to want to do it often.
It's already February. I am determined to make the most of every day, every month, and not spend useless time in worry or fear. I can change only one person -- me. And I'm working on that.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Marking another year
Today is my birthday, my 61st, another year into this seventh decade of my life.
It feels like such a short time since I turned 60 last year, and THAT is one of the great lessons of aging: as we age, time speeds up. I want time for this birthday. I want good, quality time. And I guess it's up to me to make my minutes and hours and days to be just that, hm.
In this last year my hair is longer, greyer. My face has more lines in it. The texture of my skin is changing, although it smooths when I slather on rich moisturizing cream (lesson for those of you who may be under 40 -- always, always moisturize your face and neck and arms and legs).
My braces are off. My smile is big.
We spent time with extended family in Nashville and in Ashland. We watched movies, TV, read. We survived several days without electricity and a summer of smoke and fires. We got mad and we got over it. We laughed with our wonderful Red Bluff circle of friends.
We have an adult child living with us again.
Through it all there is a common thread: we create our own destiny. We are responsible for the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. We get to choose whether to be happy or sad, to be grateful or to be angry, to change or to stagnate.
There are days when that is the only thing that makes sense to me -- that we have a choice about our actions. It isn't that I always like the alternatives, but there ARE choices, even in harsh economic situations and unsettling times.
We do all we can, where we are, with what we've got.
That'll get me through this next year too, with the hope and many prayers that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep a grateful heart and stay open to the goodness of the Universe, we will be all right.
Can't speak for anyone else: what they do is THEIRS, not mine, to manage.
But I will be okay.
I am so grateful to see all those grey hairs and life-lines in my mirror, and to begin another year. I am grateful to have second chances and new beginnings at life. I am HUGELY blessed by a wonderful circle of friends and girlfriends in this little town, who have already honored me with wonderful food and parties and gifts, and who continue to hold me close in their hearts with love and kindness.
I hope I return to them some of the joy and love they give to me.
May I never lose sight of the gratitude of this moment, this day. It is all we have, right now.
It feels like such a short time since I turned 60 last year, and THAT is one of the great lessons of aging: as we age, time speeds up. I want time for this birthday. I want good, quality time. And I guess it's up to me to make my minutes and hours and days to be just that, hm.
In this last year my hair is longer, greyer. My face has more lines in it. The texture of my skin is changing, although it smooths when I slather on rich moisturizing cream (lesson for those of you who may be under 40 -- always, always moisturize your face and neck and arms and legs).
My braces are off. My smile is big.
We spent time with extended family in Nashville and in Ashland. We watched movies, TV, read. We survived several days without electricity and a summer of smoke and fires. We got mad and we got over it. We laughed with our wonderful Red Bluff circle of friends.
We have an adult child living with us again.
Through it all there is a common thread: we create our own destiny. We are responsible for the choices we make and the consequences of those choices. We get to choose whether to be happy or sad, to be grateful or to be angry, to change or to stagnate.
There are days when that is the only thing that makes sense to me -- that we have a choice about our actions. It isn't that I always like the alternatives, but there ARE choices, even in harsh economic situations and unsettling times.
We do all we can, where we are, with what we've got.
That'll get me through this next year too, with the hope and many prayers that if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep a grateful heart and stay open to the goodness of the Universe, we will be all right.
Can't speak for anyone else: what they do is THEIRS, not mine, to manage.
But I will be okay.
I am so grateful to see all those grey hairs and life-lines in my mirror, and to begin another year. I am grateful to have second chances and new beginnings at life. I am HUGELY blessed by a wonderful circle of friends and girlfriends in this little town, who have already honored me with wonderful food and parties and gifts, and who continue to hold me close in their hearts with love and kindness.
I hope I return to them some of the joy and love they give to me.
May I never lose sight of the gratitude of this moment, this day. It is all we have, right now.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Cycles of living
I'm aware lately == especially == of cycles. Not the kind you ride, at least literally, but the ebb and flow of life, of events, of seasons, of acquaintances and friends. Maybe it's the changing of the seasons, winter to spring, and the garden. Maybe it's the half-birthday this month that makes us both eligible to withdraw funds from our IRAs without penalty, and the knowledge that in another six months, we both hit that next big "0." Life goes on.
All the little plants in the garden are thriving, loving the sunshine and warm temperatures. Even some of the little deer-bitten nubs are growing leaves -- yes, I planted several of those poor little victims. I picked a big bag of lettuce tonight for dinner and a few marble-sized radishes. Each lettuce variety has such a distinct flavor! I love it fresh like that.
In the part that just got planted, there are sunflower and swiss chard seedlings already popping. The zucchini and the cucumber starts are already several inches bigger. And we should have abundant peppers -- lots of red, a few green, two Hatch, and one hot. I love seeing them respond to the sun and the water.
Events: we're back to the Art and Wine festival already; the Arts Council is moving towards membership dues time again and another ArtsTalk newsletter (when I get time!); I was hearing about graduations and vacations today. A school cycle completed. Seems like a long time ago that I was involved with school, either for myself or for my daughter.
This weekend I see my friend Julie from Indiana who is coming to SF for a few days with another friend. We've been friends for about 25 years now, and I love how we just pick right up where we left off, still on the same wave length. I hate driving to the Bay Area and don't like driving in downtown SF because I'm always watching for those one-way streets and terrorizing cab drivers, and because it's always crowded and I inevitably have to pass my destination up and go back around again. HOWEVER, I want to see her and we will have a good time. We're doing some different things this time -- probably a choral evensong at Grace Cathedral, an evening performance of Beach Blanket Babylon, who knows what else. (She turns that "0" decade in just a few weeks...so I'm bringing her a photo I took of her and our friend Kay when I was in Indiana last October.)
I've written before about reasons, seasons and lifetimes. I think Julie is a lifetime friend. And I feel as though I have an abundance of good friends right now too - actually, I feel as though I have more friends now than at any other time in my life. What a blessing! I hope I give them back the joy and blessing that they give me.
Another cycle.
I feel the changes in my body as I age, too -- the legs that once were smooth and firm all the way up have ripples in the thighs and lumps in the calves. I haven't had a proper waist in years. My neck shows that I'm no longer under 40...or 50... The hair, while turning an enviable mixture of gray and white (according to my hair dresser and various friends who are surprised to learn that I don't highlight it at all), still is gray, and I was asked today, for the first time, what color my "natural" hair color used to be....GAK! Y'mean it doesn't show anymore for all the gray? You can't tell?
Another cycle.
I'm aware that life gets shorter and shorter as the months go by. I'm aware that I am cozying up to "senior citizen" status. I'm aware of aches and pains that 20 years ago would have been unremarkable, and now are noted and sometimes researched, and discussed with physicians.
I'm aware that my opinions are sometimes shaped by events that are more than 30 years old...that I have shoes older than some of my younger acquaintances.
And yet I really try to keep a fresh outlook, try to be open rather than judgmental (usually not terribly successfully), try to be accepting and tolerant of differences in actions and beliefs.
And yet. I simply fail to be very understanding when people pretend ignorance of process and rules because they're either lazy or self-serving. I am very intolerant of those who search for a way around some rule or process they don't like or who fail to be truthful and honest in their dealings with others, especially with clients. I just don't understand people who see nothing wrong with walking all over someone else in order to get what they want -- and I'm not very kind about saying so.
Maybe I'm turning into one of those opinionated, fiesty old women? I know. I'm not old. Not yet. I'm not sure when "old" is -- but it's about 20 years older than I am at any given time.
So here we are again -- new beginnings and second chances. Another cycle of spring into summer. Another season of the year. Another chance at becoming and learning and giving and loving. It never gets old, even as we do.
I've been reading magazines, magazines, magazines!
All the little plants in the garden are thriving, loving the sunshine and warm temperatures. Even some of the little deer-bitten nubs are growing leaves -- yes, I planted several of those poor little victims. I picked a big bag of lettuce tonight for dinner and a few marble-sized radishes. Each lettuce variety has such a distinct flavor! I love it fresh like that.
In the part that just got planted, there are sunflower and swiss chard seedlings already popping. The zucchini and the cucumber starts are already several inches bigger. And we should have abundant peppers -- lots of red, a few green, two Hatch, and one hot. I love seeing them respond to the sun and the water.
Events: we're back to the Art and Wine festival already; the Arts Council is moving towards membership dues time again and another ArtsTalk newsletter (when I get time!); I was hearing about graduations and vacations today. A school cycle completed. Seems like a long time ago that I was involved with school, either for myself or for my daughter.
This weekend I see my friend Julie from Indiana who is coming to SF for a few days with another friend. We've been friends for about 25 years now, and I love how we just pick right up where we left off, still on the same wave length. I hate driving to the Bay Area and don't like driving in downtown SF because I'm always watching for those one-way streets and terrorizing cab drivers, and because it's always crowded and I inevitably have to pass my destination up and go back around again. HOWEVER, I want to see her and we will have a good time. We're doing some different things this time -- probably a choral evensong at Grace Cathedral, an evening performance of Beach Blanket Babylon, who knows what else. (She turns that "0" decade in just a few weeks...so I'm bringing her a photo I took of her and our friend Kay when I was in Indiana last October.)
I've written before about reasons, seasons and lifetimes. I think Julie is a lifetime friend. And I feel as though I have an abundance of good friends right now too - actually, I feel as though I have more friends now than at any other time in my life. What a blessing! I hope I give them back the joy and blessing that they give me.
Another cycle.
I feel the changes in my body as I age, too -- the legs that once were smooth and firm all the way up have ripples in the thighs and lumps in the calves. I haven't had a proper waist in years. My neck shows that I'm no longer under 40...or 50... The hair, while turning an enviable mixture of gray and white (according to my hair dresser and various friends who are surprised to learn that I don't highlight it at all), still is gray, and I was asked today, for the first time, what color my "natural" hair color used to be....GAK! Y'mean it doesn't show anymore for all the gray? You can't tell?
Another cycle.
I'm aware that life gets shorter and shorter as the months go by. I'm aware that I am cozying up to "senior citizen" status. I'm aware of aches and pains that 20 years ago would have been unremarkable, and now are noted and sometimes researched, and discussed with physicians.
I'm aware that my opinions are sometimes shaped by events that are more than 30 years old...that I have shoes older than some of my younger acquaintances.
And yet I really try to keep a fresh outlook, try to be open rather than judgmental (usually not terribly successfully), try to be accepting and tolerant of differences in actions and beliefs.
And yet. I simply fail to be very understanding when people pretend ignorance of process and rules because they're either lazy or self-serving. I am very intolerant of those who search for a way around some rule or process they don't like or who fail to be truthful and honest in their dealings with others, especially with clients. I just don't understand people who see nothing wrong with walking all over someone else in order to get what they want -- and I'm not very kind about saying so.
Maybe I'm turning into one of those opinionated, fiesty old women? I know. I'm not old. Not yet. I'm not sure when "old" is -- but it's about 20 years older than I am at any given time.
So here we are again -- new beginnings and second chances. Another cycle of spring into summer. Another season of the year. Another chance at becoming and learning and giving and loving. It never gets old, even as we do.
I've been reading magazines, magazines, magazines!
Monday, March 26, 2007
Disappointment... and beyond
Such a mixed few days -- roller coaster emotions. Not fun.
We spent some time this weekend with a former colleague in Davis -- talking, eating (of course), laughing, visiting on Sunday with other former colleagues.
But in the middle of an interesting tour of the UC-Davis campus, we got a phone call from daughter number 1 telling us that she could not find daughter number 3 -- yes, the one who went just a week ago to Birmingham. R was very worried and went to the apartment where V was staying, to a friend's house to see if they knew, and then, we found out, had a policeman friend check out the accidents and hospitals. Nada.
Today we found out that V has returned to CA to be with her boyfriend. The same one she left just two weeks ago, claiming she was done, couldn't stand this and that, etc.
Oh, it's got lots of twists and tangles and dark corners. Bottom line: we still believe this is not in her best interests and that it will come off the rails again at some point.
Parents, do not make the mistake of thinking that once your kid hits 18 and is out of high school that you can stop worrying about them. What happens is that stakes in the MIStakes are much higher, and they haven't held your hand crossing the street for a long time. In fact, they tend to snarl a bit if the hand is offered -- unless, of course, it is holding money.
Ours won't be extended nor offering money any more.
Grown children are entitled to make their own mistakes and find their way out of the tangles without interference from their parents. In fact, if they are to grow in maturity and figure out who they are and what they want, parents need to let them fall.
It's just hard to watch. Especially when it happens over and over and over.
We hope things work out. But I don't think we'll be asking many questions, nor do I think there will be much communication for a while at all.
Disappointment is too mild a word for this feeling. Heartsick is closer.
An anniversary week
Seems the last week in March isn't very good for my family. Three years ago one uncle died this week after a long illness. A year ago my Uncle Tom died after an accidental fall. Yesterday another uncle died, also after a long illness.
There is still much sadness about Tom. When a loved one dies, as did my mother, from complications of a long illness, it is almost a relief -- and certainly a blessing that they are not in pain or suffering any longer. Oh, I don't mean to understate the grief, for it is certainly difficult to lose anyone you love, but I've often said in this venue and others that I wouldn't wish Mother back for a single day as she was -- I am so glad she doesn't suffer anymore. In that regard, death is a blessing and a natural end to a live well lived.
Tom's death, though, is much harder to reconcile. He died from such a freaky accident and at far too young and vigorous an age. There is no blessing that I can see in it, other than he died doing what he loved and believed in. I don't know what to say to my cousins and aunt except how sorry I am and that this, too, shall pass (which it WILL. Eventually pain becomes manageable, if not gone. This is the blessing of time and one's mind.)
So another March is going out with a death in the family. I pray that April will bring healing.
We spent some time this weekend with a former colleague in Davis -- talking, eating (of course), laughing, visiting on Sunday with other former colleagues.
But in the middle of an interesting tour of the UC-Davis campus, we got a phone call from daughter number 1 telling us that she could not find daughter number 3 -- yes, the one who went just a week ago to Birmingham. R was very worried and went to the apartment where V was staying, to a friend's house to see if they knew, and then, we found out, had a policeman friend check out the accidents and hospitals. Nada.
Today we found out that V has returned to CA to be with her boyfriend. The same one she left just two weeks ago, claiming she was done, couldn't stand this and that, etc.
Oh, it's got lots of twists and tangles and dark corners. Bottom line: we still believe this is not in her best interests and that it will come off the rails again at some point.
Parents, do not make the mistake of thinking that once your kid hits 18 and is out of high school that you can stop worrying about them. What happens is that stakes in the MIStakes are much higher, and they haven't held your hand crossing the street for a long time. In fact, they tend to snarl a bit if the hand is offered -- unless, of course, it is holding money.
Ours won't be extended nor offering money any more.
Grown children are entitled to make their own mistakes and find their way out of the tangles without interference from their parents. In fact, if they are to grow in maturity and figure out who they are and what they want, parents need to let them fall.
It's just hard to watch. Especially when it happens over and over and over.
We hope things work out. But I don't think we'll be asking many questions, nor do I think there will be much communication for a while at all.
Disappointment is too mild a word for this feeling. Heartsick is closer.
An anniversary week
Seems the last week in March isn't very good for my family. Three years ago one uncle died this week after a long illness. A year ago my Uncle Tom died after an accidental fall. Yesterday another uncle died, also after a long illness.
There is still much sadness about Tom. When a loved one dies, as did my mother, from complications of a long illness, it is almost a relief -- and certainly a blessing that they are not in pain or suffering any longer. Oh, I don't mean to understate the grief, for it is certainly difficult to lose anyone you love, but I've often said in this venue and others that I wouldn't wish Mother back for a single day as she was -- I am so glad she doesn't suffer anymore. In that regard, death is a blessing and a natural end to a live well lived.
Tom's death, though, is much harder to reconcile. He died from such a freaky accident and at far too young and vigorous an age. There is no blessing that I can see in it, other than he died doing what he loved and believed in. I don't know what to say to my cousins and aunt except how sorry I am and that this, too, shall pass (which it WILL. Eventually pain becomes manageable, if not gone. This is the blessing of time and one's mind.)
So another March is going out with a death in the family. I pray that April will bring healing.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Happy St. Pat's
Well, it's the annual drink green beer and kiss everyone because everyone is Irish today...St. Patrick's Day.
I've got my non-alcoholic, non-green beer in hand and am letting all the stress of the last few months go...Missoula is done for another year. It remains to be seen if the Arts Council actually makes some money from it this year -- but there were several of us who worked hard to make it happen.
The kids were cute. They did well. The storyline was a little weak and perhaps reached a little too hard for laughs. But I heard over and over again from parents and grandparents how much they appreciated us bringing it here, how their kids/grandkids loved it and look forward to it every year. That makes it worth the work. We're accomplishing something here.
AND, I'm happy to report, the Chickie Trucker is safely in Birmingham. She left Sacramento Thursday morning and just drove. It helped that the weather was unseasonably cooperative! But she pulled in this evening and is safe, the car did fine, and we're grateful. Hopefully she can take what she's learned over the last two years and make a better life for herself.
So it's onto the next thing for us all.
I'm aware of the anniversary of my uncle's death creeping forward...every day I think of it and think of his family, knowing a little too freshly what it feels like to go through. There are two dates, really -- March 28 when he fell and March 30 when it was all over. It doesn't feel like a whole year has gone by since then, but here it is.
These mile markers -- anniversary dates, birth dates, death dates, other days of significance -- come faster now. It's like watching signs from a car window -- you can read them easily and slowly when you're cruising at 20, 30, 40 mph. When you get up to 50, nearing 60, the words start to blur a little and it goes by maybe even before you've read the whole sign.
As I watched the kids rehearse this week, and talked with their parents, I remembered my daughter's first role -- at three years old, she was a lamb in the Christmas pageant. She had a line even. There were roles and plays throughout school, at different ages. One year she was Dorothy, cute in her braids and ruby slippers, in maybe fifth grade. She was serious, earnestly learning her lines, learning how to act. I saw every play at least once. And nearly every one in college (she was a theatre major!)
I remembered juggling my job and after school care and summer care and church meetings and my choir stuff, and keeping the house reasonably neat, and still having time to sew for her and for me. I remember watching her with such pride, such delight in what she was doing. I remember the feel of her sitting in my lap or with my arm around her, encouraging, supportive, delighted to have her at all! I loved reading out loud to her at night and answering her questions and giggling at silly things we'd make up.
It makes me so very aware of time and ages and stages.
There is more I need to do in this life. I want to make my time filled with fewer of the 'ought to' or 'hard to say no' things, and a lot more of the 'feeding the soul' and the joy-filled things, the creative, delight-full moments and projects.
And only I can make that happen. Starting tomorrow.
*sigh*
Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote, "Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torchwhich I have got a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."
And for this St. Patrick's Day, this blessing to you: "May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you're going, and the insight to know when you're going too far."
Yeah.
I've got my non-alcoholic, non-green beer in hand and am letting all the stress of the last few months go...Missoula is done for another year. It remains to be seen if the Arts Council actually makes some money from it this year -- but there were several of us who worked hard to make it happen.
The kids were cute. They did well. The storyline was a little weak and perhaps reached a little too hard for laughs. But I heard over and over again from parents and grandparents how much they appreciated us bringing it here, how their kids/grandkids loved it and look forward to it every year. That makes it worth the work. We're accomplishing something here.
AND, I'm happy to report, the Chickie Trucker is safely in Birmingham. She left Sacramento Thursday morning and just drove. It helped that the weather was unseasonably cooperative! But she pulled in this evening and is safe, the car did fine, and we're grateful. Hopefully she can take what she's learned over the last two years and make a better life for herself.
So it's onto the next thing for us all.
I'm aware of the anniversary of my uncle's death creeping forward...every day I think of it and think of his family, knowing a little too freshly what it feels like to go through. There are two dates, really -- March 28 when he fell and March 30 when it was all over. It doesn't feel like a whole year has gone by since then, but here it is.
These mile markers -- anniversary dates, birth dates, death dates, other days of significance -- come faster now. It's like watching signs from a car window -- you can read them easily and slowly when you're cruising at 20, 30, 40 mph. When you get up to 50, nearing 60, the words start to blur a little and it goes by maybe even before you've read the whole sign.
As I watched the kids rehearse this week, and talked with their parents, I remembered my daughter's first role -- at three years old, she was a lamb in the Christmas pageant. She had a line even. There were roles and plays throughout school, at different ages. One year she was Dorothy, cute in her braids and ruby slippers, in maybe fifth grade. She was serious, earnestly learning her lines, learning how to act. I saw every play at least once. And nearly every one in college (she was a theatre major!)
I remembered juggling my job and after school care and summer care and church meetings and my choir stuff, and keeping the house reasonably neat, and still having time to sew for her and for me. I remember watching her with such pride, such delight in what she was doing. I remember the feel of her sitting in my lap or with my arm around her, encouraging, supportive, delighted to have her at all! I loved reading out loud to her at night and answering her questions and giggling at silly things we'd make up.
It makes me so very aware of time and ages and stages.
There is more I need to do in this life. I want to make my time filled with fewer of the 'ought to' or 'hard to say no' things, and a lot more of the 'feeding the soul' and the joy-filled things, the creative, delight-full moments and projects.
And only I can make that happen. Starting tomorrow.
*sigh*
Irish playwright George Bernard Shaw wrote, "Life is no brief candle to me. It is a sort of splendid torchwhich I have got a hold of for the moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to future generations."
And for this St. Patrick's Day, this blessing to you: "May you have the hindsight to know where you've been, the foresight to know where you're going, and the insight to know when you're going too far."
Yeah.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, March 04, 2005
That time thing, again
Geeze. March, it is, and it happened while I wasn't looking. Or maybe I was.
It's been a full four...FOUR...months, full of family visits and talking, full of day-to-day work, full of new relationships and inner musings. Yet there are things every day that remain on my to-do list, like exercise, like putting away the Christmas boxes that still reside in the spare bedroom, like getting the whole house clean all at the same time.
And some things don't change much, either, like marveling how quickly the days fly.
Paying attention to things that matter. Mostly I do that. I guess the rest is just the fluff.
It's been a full four...FOUR...months, full of family visits and talking, full of day-to-day work, full of new relationships and inner musings. Yet there are things every day that remain on my to-do list, like exercise, like putting away the Christmas boxes that still reside in the spare bedroom, like getting the whole house clean all at the same time.
And some things don't change much, either, like marveling how quickly the days fly.
Paying attention to things that matter. Mostly I do that. I guess the rest is just the fluff.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Passings
I marvel at the first of every month that it's here, that time goes so quickly the older I get.
Events this last week have made me do that, too--observe again how quickly things come and go.
Presidential elections: I remember the election of 1968, in which I missed voting (age was 21 then) by a mere two weeks, but I got special permission from the Dean of Students to stay out of the dorm until midnight-1 a.m. or so. I was news director at KMOE, our campus station, the first woman on the (paid) executive staff, and we covered the results. It was a very big deal on all counts, and I worked very hard to report the results from a professional, neutral viewpoint.
I supported George McGovern in 1972, and watched with tears in my eyes his defeat with a fellow AAUW member after our monthly meeting in my little Missouri town.
I remember voting for Jimmy Carter, with my baby girl in my arms.
Coursework: I finished today the second of two required courses for my real estate license, and wonder how it is that I've worked as an agent for nearly 18 months already. I can account for it all, transaction by transaction, but it's gone so quickly. We've been here nearly two years, in our house!
People: My frail little mother ended up in the hospital Friday -- first time in 2 years. She's okay and will go back to the nursing home soon, but she never comes back quite all the way. I remember so clearly how she was at MY age -- how active, busy, involved, pretty. It's hard to think I'll be 57 in just two weeks, and she's already 83-close-to-84. And it's been five years since Daddy died. (I still talk to him.) Two of their friends died this last week, too, and while I know in my head that dying is a part of the circle, it is hard to think of a world without these people in it.
It's fall here--another passing of the season, from hot and dry into cool and damp, from swamp cooler to wood stove, and it was within the same week that it happened! Christmas will be here and gone too soon.
And more: You can't MAKE people see reason and a good path, and I still (forever) have trouble with that. Egos get in the way of good judgement, and tempers flare. Makes me sad.
Our kittens are growing up: the inside boys were neutered last week. When they came to us, they couldn't have been much more than 4-5 weeks old -- tiny kittens dumped by the railroad tracks.
Makes me want to put my foot out and drag it, to slow things down a bit. I want to savor people, events, places, things a little more than I seem to have time to do. I want to hold them close in my mind's eye so I can go back to them when they're gone. I do that some now, but I want to do it more.
Events this last week have made me do that, too--observe again how quickly things come and go.
Presidential elections: I remember the election of 1968, in which I missed voting (age was 21 then) by a mere two weeks, but I got special permission from the Dean of Students to stay out of the dorm until midnight-1 a.m. or so. I was news director at KMOE, our campus station, the first woman on the (paid) executive staff, and we covered the results. It was a very big deal on all counts, and I worked very hard to report the results from a professional, neutral viewpoint.
I supported George McGovern in 1972, and watched with tears in my eyes his defeat with a fellow AAUW member after our monthly meeting in my little Missouri town.
I remember voting for Jimmy Carter, with my baby girl in my arms.
Coursework: I finished today the second of two required courses for my real estate license, and wonder how it is that I've worked as an agent for nearly 18 months already. I can account for it all, transaction by transaction, but it's gone so quickly. We've been here nearly two years, in our house!
People: My frail little mother ended up in the hospital Friday -- first time in 2 years. She's okay and will go back to the nursing home soon, but she never comes back quite all the way. I remember so clearly how she was at MY age -- how active, busy, involved, pretty. It's hard to think I'll be 57 in just two weeks, and she's already 83-close-to-84. And it's been five years since Daddy died. (I still talk to him.) Two of their friends died this last week, too, and while I know in my head that dying is a part of the circle, it is hard to think of a world without these people in it.
It's fall here--another passing of the season, from hot and dry into cool and damp, from swamp cooler to wood stove, and it was within the same week that it happened! Christmas will be here and gone too soon.
And more: You can't MAKE people see reason and a good path, and I still (forever) have trouble with that. Egos get in the way of good judgement, and tempers flare. Makes me sad.
Our kittens are growing up: the inside boys were neutered last week. When they came to us, they couldn't have been much more than 4-5 weeks old -- tiny kittens dumped by the railroad tracks.
Makes me want to put my foot out and drag it, to slow things down a bit. I want to savor people, events, places, things a little more than I seem to have time to do. I want to hold them close in my mind's eye so I can go back to them when they're gone. I do that some now, but I want to do it more.
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