Thursday, December 31, 2020

The Edge of a New Year


Most years I enjoy sitting on the edge of a new year. There is anticipation and curiosity about what lies ahead. Maybe 2021 holds even more excitement than previous years because its predecessor was so limited, so isolating, so confining. I have missed people, traditions, and experiences. I am ready for some kind of return to what used to be. 


At the end of a calendar year, I often generate a list of fifty things that I want to do in the new year. These are not resolutions but rather ideas for things that sound interesting or necessary for the new year. I like to post the list on my art room wall and check from time to time to see how I am doing. When I compose the new list, I do it without looking back at last year’s list. Some items seem to come up every year in some way or another but there are new additions to the list that point to my current interests and passions. 


So here is the list for 2021.  Items are in no particular order. They merely fell off my fingers this way. I know there are a lot of travel related items and I know I can’t do them all.  I included them though because all are a possibility.



***OCL = Once COVID leaves


  1. Stay curious.
  2. Adopt a coffee shop. (OCL)
  3. Write more poetry.
  4. Read more poetry.
  5. Help Meg with their baby.
  6. Stay in Yosemite Valley in April.
  7. Heal from shoulder surgery in January.
  8. Visit artists and studios in Alberta, Canada. (OCL)
  9. Appreciate the sunshine-blue sky every time it appears.
  10. Do more photography explorations and experiments.
  11. Develop skills necessary for taking portraits.
  12. Look for Beauty every day.
  13. Share Beauty in some way or another as often as possible.
  14. Pay attention to the positive in every situation.
  15. Go out to dinner at a real restaurant. (OCL)
  16. Browse books at Copperfield’s (OCL)
  17. Take Rilke’s suggestion and let everything happen - beauty and terror.
  18. Return to the complete yoga practice (pre-injury days of 2020).
  19. Bicycle to the Gate again on a weekly basis.
  20. Camp on the Smith River in the summertime. 
  21. Smile at strangers.
  22. Continue exploring Buddhism.
  23. Write regular blog posts.
  24. Resume regular massages. (OCL)
  25. Resume art classes (OCL)
  26. Paint big (and small) with acrylics.
  27. Paint small (and big) with watercolors.
  28. Experiment with pastels more.
  29. Consider working more with collage.
  30. Paint homage to Georgia O’Keeffe.
  31. Visit Bell Springs every month. (OCL)
  32. Go to Redding several times in 2021.
  33. Do the complete Hunter’s Camp hike.
  34. Hike the Pomo Canyon to Red Hill trail.
  35. Go to Pt Reyes several times.
  36. Arrange to see The Nutcracker in SF next December.
  37. Re-visit the DeYoung Museum. (OCL).
  38. Go to Ft Bragg for a couple of nights. (OCL).
  39. Take Meg to the Gypsy Cafe for breakfast. (OCL)
  40. Learn to listen - really listen - to the Universe.
  41. Go to the big screen movies. (OCL)
  42. Make room for emptiness.
  43. Have the courage to be passionate about life. 
  44. Consider adopting a friend for Ellie.
  45. Take a road trip to Myra’s wedding in Boston.
  46. Go to NYC in the fall.
  47. Slow down.
  48. Get much needed help with Wordpress
  49. Listen to more live music. (OCL)
  50. Be on the lookout for good surprises.
  51. Keep wonder and mystery alive.
  52. Don’t stop loving.

Monday, December 28, 2020

How Are You Managing Now?

Since last March, I have had periodic chest pain and shortness of breath. For the longest time, I ignored it because that’s what I do. I also didn’t want to deal with it during the opening months of the pandemic. In the fall, the chest pain started getting worse and my excuses (spring allergies, and then smoke) ran out. I caved and got it checked out. They ruled out lung issues and I was sent to a cardiologist.

I am not a candidate for heart disease. My cholesterol and blood pressure numbers have always been ideal. My weight is excellent, I exercise daily and with gusto. There is no family history of coronary artery disease. But the cardiologist played the “heart disease can be unpredictable” card so I did the echocardiogram and the cardiac CAT scan. I still have to see the cardiologist for the follow up appointment but even I can read the report sent to my on line medical file. When you see “normal, normal, normal”, you might assume that heart disease can be ruled out.

What can’t be ruled out is that it has been a damnable year of COVID fear and anxiety, of election rage and disgust, of justified and angry civil unrest, of ridiculous high temperatures with frightening wild fires and harmful smoke that obliterated the sun. On a personal note, it was a year of continued disconnect from certain important people. COVID won’t allow me to visit with some people who matter and emails can only go so far. The anxiety and limited choices offered by a pandemic can stress even the best of marriage and family relationships and that adds to the isolation. I know I am not alone in this but this year’s holiday time was the most isolating and lonely Christmas season of my life. Christmas Day was gray and rainy and cold. COVID and SIP meant no visitors. I looked around at how to make the best of the day but, honestly? The best wasn’t all that great.

So you want to know why my heart hurts? Don’t look at the X-rays and ultrasounds. Look at the year it’s been. How do you take away that sharp and steady push on the chest? That feeling of not being able to breathe? Good question. I suppose one can set their eyes on some rare and perfect tomorrow but that only goes so far. I do want to have the right attitude, the go with the flow attitude, the “everything is gonna be alright” attitude and often I catch it and often I can hold onto it. For me, it does seem to be dependent on sunny weather, long days, bicycle rides, paint, lightness, and levity. In these days of literal darkness, constant pain from the most recent bike accident, and a shadow of loneliness, I can lose my grip.

One strategy that I have come to depend on involves others. I have learned to draw strength and good humor from the people around me. I am disappointed and angry that I can’t go visit my extended family members. They bring me so much lightness and joy! But I have discovered, especially during this pandemic year, that the internet is full of interesting, positive, funny, kind, thoughtful, creative, engaging souls. Twitter gets a bad rap for negativity and meanness but not on my feed. I have met the most delightful people there and made some genuine friends. I have people who brighten up my day with their photos, their art work (huge props to #ArtAdventCalandar group), their humor, their wisdom. Between the #FlowerReport and #SundaySentence, Sundays can be so rewarding. Every day, I can read book and poetry reviews. Every day, I am treated to photos and information about locations all around the world. Every day, I can catch articles that might expand on the headlines. I can see things all day that make me chuckle and, best of all, I can enjoy side conversations with people who have become real friends. No, it’s not the same as IRL but who’s to say if one is necessarily better than the other. I know my life has been made immeasurably richer this year by some of these connections and for that I am grateful.

I’ve also been reminded about another way to change my outlook. How about not merely absorbing goodness? How about giving strength, beauty, affection, good humor to the people around me? How about sharing the wealth? A funny thing happened to me years ago that illustrates this point. I was a waitress when I was in college. I can remember going into work one Friday evening. I was having boyfriend trouble and I was cranky. I was also, however, both smart and empathic. I knew that a grouchy server was not going to add pleasure to the patrons’ dinner. I also knew that grouchy servers did not get good tips. I pulled out that smile and that gracious attitude and the oddest thing happened. An hour later I remember noticing that my mood had improved dramatically. The boyfriend trouble had not gone away but my irritability had transformed it into genuine cheerfulness. Something about fake it til you make it? I have never forgotten that night and that revelation. It still works.

I’m not saying one should merely brush off the bad times or stuff them away. I am suggesting that it works to acknowledge the tough times and then to literally set them aside, if you can. What has helped me do that is to do something for someone else. If I can remember this strategy when the world seems dark, I set my own darkness up on that mental shelf for a little while and I attempt to shine some light for someone else. Maybe at first I might have to connect with some good person or some good idea. Maybe I need a little fuel to reach out. That’s okay. I do that. But then I throw something out that might improve someone else’s day. What I know now is that one never knows how an IRL or an internet smile can impact someone else.

So how am I managing after nine months of pandemic isolation? I have my good days and my not so good days. With the help of my friends, especially those who remind me of the light, I am making it through. Life is hard but I do know that, if you let it, life can also open lots of doors. Life can bring a lot of light and love into your days. Granted, it can be challenging and the last few weeks have been harder than I imagined they would be. But January brings the gradual and visible return of the sun. By the end of January, the longer days will become more noticeable. There will be signs outside that winter is moving towards spring. The COVID vaccine will begin to have an impact on our communities and perhaps the losses will recede. 2021 stands to be a remarkable year, particularly in contrast to the previous year. I know many people who will come out of the overwhelming isolation and anxiety of this year with renewed appreciation for “normal days”. I think that’s a gift worth receiving, don’t you?

*My thanks to @tomlin_bruce for valuable feedback on the first drafts of this post. Bruce, your optimism and world outlook are priceless. Thank you for showing them to me.





Friday, December 18, 2020

All the Feels

December is the month of all the feels. For me, it's a reflection of an invisible part of what it means to be a human being.  First off, I find joy in this seasonal holiday time.  The magic, the anticipation, the excitement live everywhere in the community.  Lights, music, ho-ho-ho's, smiles, chills - they pop up everywhere and, when lumped together, they amount to a (albeit sometimes muted) joyful feeling.  More personally, I find joy when family and friends are around.  I'm lucky.  In my world there is a lot more warmth and good natured familiarity than there is tension.  Joy is birthed from that reality.  I suppose holiday decorations, lights, music, festivities and the pursuit of holiday decorations, lights, music, and festivities is the tangible evidence of joy.

But melancholy sneaks in the back door and lingers in the shadows of joy. The mental snapshots of childhood Christmases or the magical Christmases when children lived at my house can make my eyes water and my chest feel constricted.  The poignancy that sits on the shelf in the closet of my memory falls off the shelf and threatens to one up joy. I usually catch the box of poignancy as it falls.  I often open the box for a moment and consider its contents but, after a bit, I close it up and return it to the shelf.  It's touching and evocative to take in those images but I want to get on with happy business.

There is something in that melancholy, however, that I can't name. Perhaps inadequacy works?  It's that feeling of "What is it we are trying to do here?  What is the point of all this?"  I tend to get lost in the feeling that "all of this" is not enough. There is the confusing and sad  knowledge that there must be something bigger than this.  Or maybe it's the sinking feeling that I might never get it right.  Not Christmas, not life.  Fortunately, this melancholy business is just part of the package that is December (and life). I can feel melancholy's presence but I can also know that it will move on in the same way that time moves on.

I love the feeling of generosity that is often present during December.  People seem to be more aware of the less fortunate and more willing to share what they have. For most people in my world, gift giving is truly more about the gift giving than the gift getting. My peeps think carefully about their peeps and they make deliberate and thoughtful choices for gifts that demonstrate affection and caring.  When a gift exchange happens, it's as if the room fills with tangible evidence of reciprocal love.

But there's also the wistfulness that  seeps into my awareness as I pack up the detritus of Christmas.  As I fold up the wrapping paper and put paper and ribbons into their box , I wonder what presents I'll be wrapping next year and for whom?  As I count the leftover Christmas cards and consider if I will need to purchase more next December, I wonder who on my list will be gone at the end of 2020.  What will rock my world before I touch these holiday decorations again?  What good surprises will appear?  What bad surprises will make me cry? What if  I am the one who is gone and this is the last time I will handle the Christmas boxes?  So much is unknown and it aches to hold only wonder about the future.

December is wrapping up today and along with it the whole holiday collection of feelings.  Tomorrow we are dropped into January, the season of resolutions and rain, foggy days and long, cold nights. The January feels tend to lean towards malaise and irritability but the light starts to return and people look longingly for spring.  Spring will come and with it a new collection of feels.  Isn't that how it is with human beings?

 


Still Learning

Sometimes I miss my younger self. She really didn’t know what she was doing but she also didn’t especially care. She didn’t really think too far ahead of where she was on that day. Frankly? I don’t think she knew to think too far ahead.  Life was so much in the now back then. She muddled along, without direction, maybe a little perplexed, a little unsure, but she figured there was time to figure it all out.  


I think the pace picked up when she became a parent. Then it was no longer just about her.  Now she had committed to a husband and together they had committed to one, and then two, children. Life became more complex. More things to worry about, to sort out, to figure out, to do, to be, to plan for, to be sure about.  


If there was one thing I could tell her, something that she didn’t know then but that I know now, it would be that it all works out.  All of those things that I worried about back then? They all got sorted out. They all came to some resolution.  Despite my fears, they all worked out. Maybe it didn’t go the way I thought it would go, but it did work out. The problem is that as often as I think I have learned that truth, I discover that I am still learning. It’s disappointing. 



That reminds me of this poem by Derek Mahon.


Everything If Going to Be All Right


How should I now be glad to contemplate

the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window

and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?

There will be dying, there will be dying,

but there is no need to go into that.

The poems flow from the hand unbidden

and the hidden source is the watchful heart.

The sun rises in spite of everything 

and the far cities are beautiful and bright.

I lie here in a riot of sunlight

watching the day break and the clouds flying.

Everything is going to be all right.