The weather has turned...dark at five o'clock, today the first rain arrived. Not that cold, but definitely time for boots and cardigans and a scarf looped around my neck. With the dark comes a change in my mood, always. A reflective change, a going inwards, sometimes to places that feel dark themselves.
This year though, I am trying to find the light inside through whatever means I can. Yoga is helping...Therese and I go on Sundays now to a much loved class, which is a mixture of Yoga and meditation. Last week we did twenty eight sun salutations and I felt so amazing when I made it through all of them, with a vibrancy and a fullness in my heart and body. It was challenging, yes, but also wonderful. Then stretching and that lovely final reward of Savasana, my legs propped up on a bolster, a woven blanket over me, my mind finally quiet.
Also, of course, books. Ed Bacon has written a book, The Eight Habits of Love, and I am reading it slowly, trying to take it in instead of just buzzing through it like I tend to do. He writes of finding the stillness, in whatever way you need to get there, of its rejuvenating power, its necessity. And I do find it in yoga, in my walks, in my writing. This is the first time I've sat down to write in ages, a gift I am giving myself. An iced tea, a grilled cheese sandwich with spinach at Old Soul at the Weatherstone, sitting on the well worn leather sofa with my macbook in my lap. My feet are up on the bottom rung of the coffee table and my soul is at peace. Surrounded by music and people, still. It is truly lovely. Chloe is in acting class and instead of going back to work, or to Bernado or Tower, I came here, to somewhere that truly feeds me.
I've not written on my blog in so long...scared away by GOMI and fear of revealing too much. Busy with Teddy and all that he has brought into our lives, tired at night. But it's feeling like the window is opening again in a small way. I am feeling a little touch of sunlight sneaking through here, beckoning me. I know it's not about writing for other people or growing an audience of readers. Somehow it's about this, right here, finding my center and maybe sharing that.
Also, gratitude. I've been needing to go there so badly, to focus on what is working, on being kind to people, to myself. Teddy is really doing so much better, and there are moments on our morning walks around the big field when I feel transcendent when I look into his eyes in a watch me. When I see him frolicking in such apparent and overwhelming joy and I am allowed to witness, to share in it with him. Or when he curls up next to my body at night, pressed tight against me. When sometimes he puts his big head on my shoulder or on the pillow next to me and I can feel his breath. Happiness.
I am wanting more soul time in my life. This morning I heard a radio show, just a snippet of it, where Cheryl Richardson suggested writing out questions...what do you want, which of those are things you think you should want, what does your soul want? I need to spend some time pondering those things and finding a way to fit more of what I truly want into my life and filtering out some of the other. I spend so much time shopping and picking up our house, commuting and being worn out at the end of the day that it isn't conducive to how I really would choose to spend my time. I think it's just a click here and there that will make it better, not a whole life overhaul, although heaven knows my mind likes to go there. To that fantasy of my little house downtown and growing my organic vegetables and fruit trees and volunteering with dogs, of living with much less. And maybe there is some of that I can incorporate, while still valuing the things that I do have, the people who I have chosen to love. I just need to spend some time thinking on it, give myself some space to go there.
This, tonight, is a start. There can be more of this. More time to write and reflect. A choice is all it is. A choice to take care of myself, to value that small voice inside of me, to let it out.
It feels wonderful.
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books. Show all posts
11.20.2013
5.17.2013
What Is Your Story?
What do you want your story to be?
Reading a wonderful book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller, that poses this question and I've been thinking a great deal about it. His theory is that life really is a story, that we are characters in a narrative who have real choices about what that narrative will be. We tend to want to make our lives easier, but what makes a great story is transformation, a character arc, the protagonist learning. What brings about that transformation? Stepping outside our comfort zone, facing difficulties, overcoming challenges, living through tragedy even. Most important is choosing a story that causes us to grow.
I told myself a story before Chloe and I went to Wolf Camp last week...that I'm not the camping type, that it would be difficult and that I was just doing it for her, because it was something a good mom would do.
Sometimes it is so very nice to be wrong.
We ended up having an absolutely amazing time because of the challenges, not in spite of them.
Reading a wonderful book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller, that poses this question and I've been thinking a great deal about it. His theory is that life really is a story, that we are characters in a narrative who have real choices about what that narrative will be. We tend to want to make our lives easier, but what makes a great story is transformation, a character arc, the protagonist learning. What brings about that transformation? Stepping outside our comfort zone, facing difficulties, overcoming challenges, living through tragedy even. Most important is choosing a story that causes us to grow.
I told myself a story before Chloe and I went to Wolf Camp last week...that I'm not the camping type, that it would be difficult and that I was just doing it for her, because it was something a good mom would do.
Sometimes it is so very nice to be wrong.
We ended up having an absolutely amazing time because of the challenges, not in spite of them.
On our first afternoon we hiked in the rain, with one bright apple green umbrella over Chloe’s head, a friend snuggled in beside her. Smart, my girl, to think of bringing umbrellas. Completely in camping mode, I thought only of ponchos and hats, and she came up with the better solution, the obvious one really, and we’re the only ones that did. I smiled inside seeing her underneath that umbrella, warm and cared for. But all the kids chattered and laughed and kept on walking and were so thankful to come in out of the cold rain when it was over, with brave tales to tell of their adventure. How many times, really, do any of us get to walk in a thunderstorm? How often do we get the chance to be brave?
The next morning we hiked down to Merced Grove to see the Giant Sequoias in 40 degree weather and more rain, all of us so, so cold. Pretty difficult for both Chloe and me and we had quite a few chances to give each other reassuring hugs picking our way down that slippery steep trail, laughing together trying to keep warm. I never would have thought that Chloe would be able to do that hike, especially in such shivery conditions, but she definitely managed it and even was at the front of the pack with our amazingly energetic naturalist, Poppy, on the way back up. Another challenge conquered, proudly.
The next morning we hiked down to Merced Grove to see the Giant Sequoias in 40 degree weather and more rain, all of us so, so cold. Pretty difficult for both Chloe and me and we had quite a few chances to give each other reassuring hugs picking our way down that slippery steep trail, laughing together trying to keep warm. I never would have thought that Chloe would be able to do that hike, especially in such shivery conditions, but she definitely managed it and even was at the front of the pack with our amazingly energetic naturalist, Poppy, on the way back up. Another challenge conquered, proudly.
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| Chloe in Merced Grove |
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| Dogwood Blooming in Merced Grove |
The whole week was like that...new songs and skits featuring the kids and chaperones, a newt discovered under a decomposing log passed from hand to hand, running games and more hikes. Yosemite Falls, Mirror Lake, Half Dome. Beauty and challenges. Friends and preteen shrieking. Getting to know some of the other parents and teachers better, being awed by the passion and energy of the naturalists, tearing up a bit at the final campfire. Being so proud of these kids, respectful and interested and engaged and silly. So proud of my girl, stepping outside of her sheltered world a bit and thriving there.
I think the pinnacle of the week, for us, was the solo night hike. We all went out together, at dusk, on a hike around the camp grounds, and then settled in for a circle of stories and games. After talking about how Native Americans used to go off on their own for a vision quest at adolescence, Poppy told the kids that they would be doing a version of that by walking back to a meeting point, on the trail we had come up, alone. We talked about fears, and everyone wrote one of their fears on a little piece of paper and put it in their pocket. All the kids lined up, with parents interspersed between every three or four of them, and Poppy started her stopwatch. Every forty five seconds, one little person started off down that trail, alone, and we parents clenched our fists and let them go. Chloe looked at me with the big eyes and I reassured her that she'd be so proud of herself when she was done, and that she was definitely up to the challenge. But, oh, in my heart, I did not want to let her step away. It took all I had to smile at her and send her off down that hill. Forty five seconds later, I followed her. It doesn't seem like long, but it's long enough for your child to be completely out of your sight, and out of the sight of the person in front of her. Long enough for so many thoughts to go through your head. Long enough for your heart to beat wildly.
When I got to the meeting place, there she was, safe and grinning. Full of stories of catching up to the friend in front of her, of running, of being so scared, but ultimately, of succeeding. As all the kids filed in, their pride couldn't have been any clearer, and it was so beautiful. We all gathered again in a circle and slowly fed our pieces of paper holding our fears into a small fire and watched them turn to smoke. Mine read, "Letting my girl go." And I did. And she flourished.
Our whole week was a tremendous story. One I am so thankful to have chosen.
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| Wolf Pack! |
1.23.2013
Forget Perfect
Last night, Ron and I used his Christmas gift tickets and saw Rock of Ages at the Community Center. This was not a show I really was looking forward to, as I thought it would just be a bunch of 80's heavy metal music. Surprise, it was tons of fun, the music was smile inducing, and we had a great evening. Dinner at Ma Jong's, a little walk around midtown, including a very exciting browse around Office Max (did I mention I like office supplies?) and then the show.
We got home at 11:30 and I had a dilemma...to do my blog post, or not. Day 26 of my 30 Day Blogging Challenge, and so far I'd posted every day. But, oh, that comfy bed was calling me, and I could already hear the 6:30 am alarm clock buzzing in my ear.
Well, thanks to this book I just finished, I decided to let it go and get my sleep.
On our thrift store jaunt the other evening, I happily loaded up my arms with a stack of books. Thrift store prices and then 40% off as a bonus. Deal. This one, Forget Perfect, was written in 2001. The technology references are a bit dated but the advice is sound.
I am very much a type A personality...always wanting to make things better, to set goals and achieve them, to fit as much into each day as I possibly can. While this mostly serves me well, it can leave me missing the moment because my focus is on how it could be better. Or, often, how I could be better.
This book reminds us that perfect doesn't make us happy and, most of all, that if somehow we managed to achieve that perfection, no one would like us anyway. We appreciate the flawed, the human. We gravitate toward that authentic person who is fully herself, and who accepts that self with joy.
If you are ready for a book that reminds you that you are just fine the way you are, and that your life is pretty damn good already, get this one. It's a find.
We got home at 11:30 and I had a dilemma...to do my blog post, or not. Day 26 of my 30 Day Blogging Challenge, and so far I'd posted every day. But, oh, that comfy bed was calling me, and I could already hear the 6:30 am alarm clock buzzing in my ear.
Well, thanks to this book I just finished, I decided to let it go and get my sleep.
On our thrift store jaunt the other evening, I happily loaded up my arms with a stack of books. Thrift store prices and then 40% off as a bonus. Deal. This one, Forget Perfect, was written in 2001. The technology references are a bit dated but the advice is sound.
I am very much a type A personality...always wanting to make things better, to set goals and achieve them, to fit as much into each day as I possibly can. While this mostly serves me well, it can leave me missing the moment because my focus is on how it could be better. Or, often, how I could be better.
This book reminds us that perfect doesn't make us happy and, most of all, that if somehow we managed to achieve that perfection, no one would like us anyway. We appreciate the flawed, the human. We gravitate toward that authentic person who is fully herself, and who accepts that self with joy.
If you are ready for a book that reminds you that you are just fine the way you are, and that your life is pretty damn good already, get this one. It's a find.
This post inspired by:
1.16.2013
Just In Case You Didn't Listen to Oprah... | Wild, by Cheryl Strayed
"It was my life--like all lives, mysterious and irrevocable and sacred. So very close, so very present, so very belonging to me.
How wild it was, to let it be."
--Cheryl Strayed, Wild
I know I am late to the party on this one. Oprah is already on to her next book, and probably everyone has read this already. But if, like me, you haven't somehow, do. I think I held off because I figured it couldn't possibly live up to the hype, that I'd be disappointed. But it does, and I'm not.
Give yourself a gift. Curl up with some tea, in front of a fireplace, and read a spell. Relish it. You'll be so glad you did.
How wild it was, to let it be."
--Cheryl Strayed, Wild
I know I am late to the party on this one. Oprah is already on to her next book, and probably everyone has read this already. But if, like me, you haven't somehow, do. I think I held off because I figured it couldn't possibly live up to the hype, that I'd be disappointed. But it does, and I'm not.
Give yourself a gift. Curl up with some tea, in front of a fireplace, and read a spell. Relish it. You'll be so glad you did.
1.11.2013
Book Trances and Written Treasures | The End of Your Life Book Club
Ah, books. My great friends. What better moment is there than opening the cover to that very first page, that opening sentence? All possibility lies ahead. A world beckons. Bliss.
Tonight, The End of Your Life Book Club. About half way through, I had to physically stop myself from continuing lest I drown. That happens to me often, that all encompassing trance. Only my complaining lower back pulls me out.
Today, also, Notes from a Dragon Mom, by Emily Rapp. So heartbreaking, and so beautiful. The lovely Alice Anderson, luminous writer herself, shared this New York Times essay on Facebook, following another post last night spreading love and light for the author and her son, Ronan. May the soon to be released The Still Point of the Turning World spread Ronan's spirit wide and far. I so look forward to reading their story.
I truly cannot imagine my life without books, without writers, without their written worlds. They are my never ending treasures.
1.05.2013
Why Stop At Ten? TWELVE Personal Commandments
One of my favorite books, the and one that inspired me to start this blog, is Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project. If you haven't yet read it, DO. She has a terrific blog by the same name, which I also highly recommend. She writes a little something everyday, and it's a great quick check in for taking care of yourself.
One of my favorite things she suggests in her book is writing your own Twelve Personal Commandments. These aren't meant to be a to do list, or resolutions, but instead overarching themes that you want to live your life by. Here are Gretchen's...with links to explanations on her blog about each one if you'd like to explore deeper.
On the blogpost where she writes about this subject, lots of people have chimed in on comments with their own lists, including me. They are fun to read, and inspiring too. I think it's a great exercise for figuring out, and remembering, what is important to you.
So, on that note, here is my list.
I'd love to see all of your lists in the comment section. I am so inspired by women who are trying to make their lives better, to add meaning and depth, to grow and create. To be good mamas and wives and artists and businesspeople and friends. So, please, do share! We'll all benefit from your wisdom:)
One of my favorite things she suggests in her book is writing your own Twelve Personal Commandments. These aren't meant to be a to do list, or resolutions, but instead overarching themes that you want to live your life by. Here are Gretchen's...with links to explanations on her blog about each one if you'd like to explore deeper.
- Be Gretchen.
- Let it go.
- Act the way I want to feel.
- Do it now.
- Be polite and be fair.
- Enjoy the process.
- Spend out.
- Identify the problem.
- Lighten up.
- Do what ought to be done.
- No calculation.
- There is only love.
On the blogpost where she writes about this subject, lots of people have chimed in on comments with their own lists, including me. They are fun to read, and inspiring too. I think it's a great exercise for figuring out, and remembering, what is important to you.
So, on that note, here is my list.
- Be here now.
- Live in Gratitude.
- Breathe.
- Everything is a miracle.
- Work hard. Be kind.
- Choose happiness.
- Show up. Do the work. Don't be attached to the results.
- Be authentic.
- Eat healthy. Move.
- Hug my girl.
- Open my heart.
I'd love to see all of your lists in the comment section. I am so inspired by women who are trying to make their lives better, to add meaning and depth, to grow and create. To be good mamas and wives and artists and businesspeople and friends. So, please, do share! We'll all benefit from your wisdom:)
1.01.2013
The Best American Essays, 2006. Yep, 2006.
Had some nice chunks of time to read this last week, and one of the books I savored was The Best American Essays, 2006. Yes, a little late on my part, but it was a serious bargain, scooped up from a remainder table for $2.99, and wonderful too.
If you haven't ever read a volume from this collection, I so recommend that you do. Each anthology has a different guest editor, and consequently a very different feel to the book. This 2006 edition was edited by Lauren Slater, who tells a wonderful story in the introduction about finding her voice and genre as a writer after reading the 1988 version of this very series. It's a nice glimpse into a writer's world.
Many of the essays this time revolve around death somehow. The most powerful, to me, is one by Marjorie Williams that first ran in Vanity Fair in 2005 titled A Matter of Life and Death. Diagnosed with Stage 4B liver cancer (there is no stage 5, and no 4C either) in her early 40s, while mothering two young children, she wrote an unfinished memoir. This essay was assembled after her death from that manuscript. The piece is hauntingly beautiful and such a stunning show of grace, courage, and hope. Just gorgeous.
Another piece that slayed me was George by Sam Pickering. It's the story of a love affair between an older man and his dog, a man who's heart is broken open in the words he writes. A man of a certain generation who has learned to keep his emotions inside, to the point where his wife accuses him of not grieving the loss of their dog. But oh, does he write it. A love letter, brilliant in its simplicity and plainspokenness.
Reading about loss always gives me that heart stopping appreciation for my life. You consistently hear that people wish they had realized what was most important before the diagnosis, before the horrible news, before a loved one was lost forever. To me, this is a way into that space, without having to live it myself.
My grandmother, who is now ninety-eight, recently wrote me in one of her letters that
"I just don't think life is worth living without a good book to read." Ah, Gram, I agree with all of my being.
This book was such a satisfying read, one to truly savor. Such a gift to my heart. I hope it may be one for yours too.
If you haven't ever read a volume from this collection, I so recommend that you do. Each anthology has a different guest editor, and consequently a very different feel to the book. This 2006 edition was edited by Lauren Slater, who tells a wonderful story in the introduction about finding her voice and genre as a writer after reading the 1988 version of this very series. It's a nice glimpse into a writer's world.
Many of the essays this time revolve around death somehow. The most powerful, to me, is one by Marjorie Williams that first ran in Vanity Fair in 2005 titled A Matter of Life and Death. Diagnosed with Stage 4B liver cancer (there is no stage 5, and no 4C either) in her early 40s, while mothering two young children, she wrote an unfinished memoir. This essay was assembled after her death from that manuscript. The piece is hauntingly beautiful and such a stunning show of grace, courage, and hope. Just gorgeous.
Another piece that slayed me was George by Sam Pickering. It's the story of a love affair between an older man and his dog, a man who's heart is broken open in the words he writes. A man of a certain generation who has learned to keep his emotions inside, to the point where his wife accuses him of not grieving the loss of their dog. But oh, does he write it. A love letter, brilliant in its simplicity and plainspokenness.
Reading about loss always gives me that heart stopping appreciation for my life. You consistently hear that people wish they had realized what was most important before the diagnosis, before the horrible news, before a loved one was lost forever. To me, this is a way into that space, without having to live it myself.
My grandmother, who is now ninety-eight, recently wrote me in one of her letters that
"I just don't think life is worth living without a good book to read." Ah, Gram, I agree with all of my being.
This book was such a satisfying read, one to truly savor. Such a gift to my heart. I hope it may be one for yours too.
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