Autumn can be very depressing for a lot of people. My husband, for example, practically bursts into tears on July 4th. Granted he is extremely patriotic, so if you know him, you wouldn't give it a second thought. You'd just hand him a tissue. But I know under that red, white and blue glow is actually a 10 year boy who is already counting the hours down to the first day of school. We have a saying in my house, and I hear it every year, on or around July 5th. "S-I-O" my husband bellows from the upstairs bathroom. Summer is Over. And I start laughing, actually, cackling is a better description. Because my annual response to this dramatic pronouncement of the death of the summer season is "Good! Can't wait for Fall!" Don't get me wrong, I don't dislike summer completely. I've learned to make my peace with its shamelessly hot, sticky weather, it's pronouncement of "relax, but you'll miss everything if you do" mixed messages, it's long and seemingly endless days of outdoor activity (also aptly described as indentured servitude to the Gardening Gods), and it's nauseating need to bring out every inappropriately clad human being within a 400 mile radius...and plop them on whatever beach I happen to be lounging (not really, with young children on the beach, you're in an upright position most of the time and your eyes almost unblinkingly follow every move).
Over the years I've learned to enjoy the wonders of the summer season and can sound almost passionate when I talk about the warm, welcoming mornings on the back deck, the variety of local bird calls, the butterfly's and hummingbirds decorating the trees and bushes in the yard, and after all the hard work of the spring, I do gratefully enjoy the fruits of our labors in the garden. I love the exotic flavors of the summer season, like an expertly prepared citrus infused ceviche, or platter of fresh sushi lined up like pink soldiers next to a heap of fresh picked green beans. I do like "the way the smell of a grill sparks up nostalgia" (by Will Smith...rapper/poet) and the feeling of sand under my just-manicured feet. The simple joy of watching our kids play for hours in the surf makes me long for a some-day seaside home. And, I'll admit to giving myself a get-out-of-jail-free card when I just can't find the energy to sit at my desk the entire day...and instead wander out to the garden to see what the chickens are up to.
If you poetically associate the passing of life with the passing of the seasons, as many writers have done beautifully (and way better than I will here) then Autumn as you know signifies the "last hurrah" of youth, so to speak. For many of us here on the east coast, it's that cold realization that the fun is over and it's time to get back to your desk. So it's natural for every sun-worshiper among us (you know who you are) to embrace every last sun-soaked moment as if their very life depended upon it because, well you know, the "end is near".
But I'm not sorry to see summer pass us by. Not in the least. I am a huge Fall enthusiast. Always have been. Since I was very, very young, I looked forward to the cooler temperatures, the crazy weather patterns (warm and mild one day, tempestuous the next) and long displays of gray cumulus clouds that seemingly race each other across the sky at dizzying speeds. It's like watching a time-lapse video...except it's in real time. I love the quality of sleep I get in the fall, too. Those cool nights go a long way ensuring a very sound and comfortable night's sleep under a pile of blankets and comforter. Great for snuggling, too.
The season serves as inspiration for many rituals, and naturally a lot of reminiscing. So here goes...I love the smell of new school shoes! When I was a kid, those highly polished, supple leather upper-soled, caramel brown Buster Browns tortured me for weeks from the confines of their box, nestled underneath a thin layer of crumply white tissue. The smell was positively intoxicating whenever I opened the box to take a peek. I just couldn't wait to put them on and slide recklessly across the slippery hallways on the first day of school. I'd made sure to scuff up the soles a bit on the walk to the bus stop. Nobody wants to fall on their first day.
It's been a long time since I had a new pair of Buster Browns, or any sort of loafer with tassels for that matter. But I can still imagine the way the leather smells when sitting new in the box, and it fills me with that same sweet anticipation of this seasons' delights. Apples, rich stews, fresh-baked breads, hot chocolate, Halloween candy, and stocking up on cedar wood for the Chiminea in the backyard. My fingers are tingly with excitement!! (or maybe that's just the seasonal onset of Raynaud's Syndrome)
When I think about the way that Autumn has always stimulated my creative intelligence, its no surprise to me now that despite my love for this time of year, I still struggle with a low level frustration that gnaws at me daily until I do something about it. I realized at 9:30 last night that every day for the last three weeks I have grappled with a calendar that won't let up. I get up very early every morning and make a promise that today I will sit quietly for just 45 minutes and do what my whole being craves. Write...without interruption, aim or explanation. Write...before the kids get up and break my concentration, crawling into my lap with their sleepy eyes, contagious little giggles and enthusiasm for morning. Every day I want to write. When I do, it's very much like my life depends on it. And it's the one thing that nurtures me beyond every other activity I practice. Not even running can do for me what writing does. What does that mean? Have I missed my calling? Was my High School English teacher right? Should I have pursued a career in writing and never looked back? Well, it's fall so there's no point in dwelling on what wasn't when I consider what still can be.
While I've never been told this, I have a suspicion that a good writer will always be a good writer, but a great writer comes with both talent and life experience. I guess it took me all this time to live and experience a life that would create a natural springboard for writing. It took me a long time to find my narrator...that inner author who I find myself channeling more often these days (thanks to Leslie for validating the author voice), and give into the impulse to just get it all down and worry about form later. Whether I'll ever develop into any kind of published writer has yet to be determined. At this point, I'll settle for being considered a good blogger with potential. Perhaps what I'm finally learning to do in the late summer/early fall of my life is to harness with the same sort of gushing anticipation of what is here right now instead of worrying about what is coming, or what's already passed. I'm not going to just get on with it and embrace my coming winter in life either. Instead of bottom out I'm going to "Autumn Out".
I'm not rushing into the winter season either, though I do love the simple beauty and the nest-like impulses that come with the first snow. Gathering my blankets, pillows, children, mug of hot tea and good books around me, I am aware it's only a matter of time before the snow makes my home feel less like a haven and more like a prison. But the other sad fact is I know it's at least another nine months before my favorite time of year comes back around. So I'm enjoying it right now while it lasts.
Autumn has so much to offer for sights, smells and sensations, almost too many to mention. It is chock-full of the colors that best compliment warm skin tone and hair color...pumpkin, every shade of brown, dark green, deep purple, vibrant golds and black...so, what's not to love? Ever notice how much easier it is to manage your hair in the fall? Humidity is to blame for the majority of my bad hair days in the summer. But the cool, stable temperatures of fall make even the most unruly tendrils behave...and, if not, it's hat season so who cares? And, yes, it's also wine season! Come on, you knew that was coming!! If you've never had it, try a French Bordeaux this year. Or, if you like a lighter style, French Pinot Noir is hitting the shelves and Bin Ends is stocking some of the best the world has to offer. My personal favorites this time of year, when the nights get down right frosty, are the Barolo's and Barbaresco's. These are the big, hearty super Tuscan's that grab you by the ankles, throw you to the mat and tickle your taste buds until you're crying for mercy and begging for another sip. Oh, the majesty and mirth of these gorgeous wines! It's like having sex in a warm, decadent velvet-covered four post bed, while feeding on dark chocolate...except it comes in a bottle and is far less messy.
Now...off to enjoy another gorgeous fall day...I can see the clouds from my desk-side window. Looks like another big cumulus cloud race day up there!
Namaste
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Leggo my Ego
The four elements: Earth, Wind, Fire & Water...all gathered this weekend at a friend's home in Hanson, Massachusetts. This is a very special place where you check your worries at the door, grab a plate and glass, flop onto the sofa, and talk to the friend you never knew you had. Each of us carried some aspect of the four elements with us. Earth...your potential for growth being realized right there in the moment. You've been struggling in the dirt for awhile, but there's light at the end of the tunnel and you've followed your emerging instincts from the deep, dark muck through to the topsoil, extending both hand and heart to the omnipotent skies above. You are welcomed. Wind...pushing, sucking, whirling around both with and against the odds, not standing still for long in one place and constantly redirected with the whim of the slightest influence. You know your power, have understood your value, and now only need to temper your strength when push comes to shove. Fire...kindling, rebirth and resurrection. You know only through concentration and focus, gathering your heat into yourself, intensifying the internal inferno of wisdom will you be able to sustain enough power for the long journey ahead. Continue the long, slow burn as it is the surest flame of all. Water, immediately recognizable as the most flexible of the elements. Able to withstand intense pressure, calm and soothing but capable of the most ferocious of attacks. Both beautiful and beguiling, keep your translucent hue and the childlike wonder will transcend in your lessons.
Each of these elements was fully active this weekend and the vibration they set off could be felt all around, resonating against the lake, the trees, reverberating off the cozy chairs, walls and windows and spreading their delightful gifts. All resulting in a contentment I haven't felt in many years. It was a gathering of souls I shall not soon forget. And every time I look at my vibrant ring of red, orange and yellow fuzz, I'll think of how easy it is to drop all my cares and leggo my ego in a room full of "fish"...now friends.
Each of these elements was fully active this weekend and the vibration they set off could be felt all around, resonating against the lake, the trees, reverberating off the cozy chairs, walls and windows and spreading their delightful gifts. All resulting in a contentment I haven't felt in many years. It was a gathering of souls I shall not soon forget. And every time I look at my vibrant ring of red, orange and yellow fuzz, I'll think of how easy it is to drop all my cares and leggo my ego in a room full of "fish"...now friends.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Green Goddess, not just a dressing anymore!
Hey All! I think I can get this seasonal post in just under the wire. Back to School is just about a week away and marks the end of a fruitful and restful season. With all this resting you'd think I'd have a few more posts to offer but I really took this summer very seriously, relatively speaking.
Here's what I did on my summer vacation: Mostly, I worked almost every day from April through the early part of August. Hours, days and weeks of search work leaving me feeling both frantic and frustrated, but keeping roof intact and belly's full. The only regular reprieve I had was the weekend Farmer's Market on the Pembroke Green (we participated this year under the name "Tap Root Gardens"...more on this later), and my exercise routines. I got intimate with my yoga mat again...and found that I can no longer go through life neglecting my tendons, joints, ligaments and muscle fibers. Let's face it, as far as injuries go, I've been damn lucky for a very long time. No sense tempting fate.
I ran my first real road race just a few days before my 43rd birthday, then ran my second one three days later...and placed first for my age group! That was probably the personal/public highlight of my summer. I met quite a few avid racers who insist I run more races, longer races, harder races. They were incredibly nice and solicited equal parts praise and recommendations on other local races to run. Let's face it, I'm just not that interested in running competitively. I'd rather go for the personal long hall and say that I ran well into my 70's because I took care of my body. Leaning on a cane at 67 because my knees gave out after attempting to run the Boston Marathon at 43 is not my idea of a success story. Again...why tempt fate?
I have taken these last remaining weeks of August off to spend some serious time with my kids, and myself, before September "madness" rushes in and takes over. I love back to school...the clothes shopping, buying the back packs, the smell of new leather shoes (anyone remember Buster Browns?). I love knowing fall is right around the corner (hands down, my favorite season of all!). The foods and cooking opportunities Autumn offers is half the reason I love it so much. However, ramping up mentally for a demanding work schedule is somehow not as easy this year. I really have enjoyed the summer for a change. I think it may be the garden and the chickens contributing to my later-in-life blooming appreciation of summer's charms.
I never really cared all that much for the hot and sticky weather, crowded/trash-strewn beaches, shirtless mowing (does my neighbor have any idea how bad this looks?), or the relentless social calendar that seems to dry up the minute the calendar page turns to October. Can't we have a little balance here? How about a few get-togethers in February? You know, when it's cold and nasty out? I find the comfort of a few good friends gathered around the table brings a unique warmth of it's own and can more than rival any mid-July backyard barbeque for socializing. The glorious stretch of hot weather we enjoyed from late June to mid-August was certainly partly to blame for my recent enjoyment...and the noticeable lack of mosquito's didn't hurt either.
The real lesson this season was in learning how to slow down...I mean REALLY SLOW DOWN! I need to thank my yogic breathing for most of this. I never realized until recently how shallow my breathing typically is...especially when I'm stressed with work. But I also learned to say yes to things I would normally never consider, like waking up on a Tuesday and saying to my family "work will always be here, let's go to the beach!" During July and August I ended up taking most Friday's off for personal rejuvenation and preparation for the weekend market. I really enjoyed the fresh produce this season had to offer, daily! I've never eaten such an abundance and array of fresh, locally grown veggies and fruits! I got experimental with a few of the local food-crafter's offerings (a sweet basil jelly that will have you scouring your kitchen for something worthy to spread it on, a pumpkin butter to die for, and an "herbs de provence" bread that will literally transport you, with every bite, to a field of rosemary and lavender...a true slice of heaven). I have even developed a signature sandwich using these local ingredients that I will proudly publish on the Pembroke Farmer's Market website in the next month.
I am developing into a Locavore...studying it like an art form. Most of the best finds are at these Farmer's Market's, though the road-side stands are worth checking out, too. Despite my best efforts this summer, and sneaky recipes, our children have not yet developed an appetite for earthly bounty, unless it's covered in chocolate and rolled in sugar. But at least they have an appreciation for the garden and growing. They'll really miss it once it's snow-covered and no longer demanding hours of daily attention from their father, who will doubtlessly limit their daily shenanigans and uproarious antics that typically erupt after long summer days of torturing each other. They're also really enjoying the chickens. I have chickens...does this make me a farmer's wife? Visions of Green Acre's dancing in my head. I can empathize with Eva and her stiletto's in a big way! Every day we check to see if one of our fine feathered ladies has worked up the nerve as yet to sit in the nest box and earn her keep...so far, nada. I look forward to fresh eggs, and will wrestle with how many to sell and how many to keep for family and friend. I will be posting a special blog when that miraculous day finally does come.
My personal growth is almost more of a retro-movement. I have managed to get back into the spiritual form of my twenties by way of yoga, reading, living in the moment more often then not, paying attention to my spiritual hunger (requiring daily nourishment), practicing moderation in every way, and developing a great awareness around energy depletion and unnecessary energy consumption. Not the kind that comes and goes through wall sockets, but the kind that comes and goes through people. I'm learning to be a bit more selfish about how I use my energy. I think personal physical and spiritual energy, like real batteries, come with limitations on demand. I believe true recharge only comes when you stop allowing it to leach out in small increments, and just sit for a long while with yourself. Like you're on a charger and you really don't have the capability to deplete yourself any further. I am learning to hold onto my energy, avoiding misuse and unnecessary expenditure.
As everyone now knows, a poorly insulated home has lots of cracks and surface breaks where energy pours out of the home in both large and small amounts, only to be wasted when released into the atmosphere. Having your home audited for CO2 emissions and insulating it against energy loss can save you a lot of money. It also makes you feel a lot better about your external "greening" efforts. I think this type of focus and effort should be applied to your internal house, too. Thinking of my soul as my furnace or as my central electric system, I have begun to consider how much of my energy gets wasted or sucked away by many daily aspects of my life; work, social pursuits, even family have a way of demanding energy from you that can cost you dearly in the long run. Putting up a protective fence, a boundary, and insulating your spiritual house through careful contemplation of where your energy is going and whether it's being wasted can go a long way to preserving that which is so precious in all of us...our life force.
When a friend says they've wasted so much "time" on something or someone, I tend to think more about the "energy" they gave away to that purpose or person. As women, we worry more about time because, naturally, our bodies supposedly have a built in clock that tells us when it's time to become a woman and become a mother. Eventually, that honor, opportunity, right or responsibility (whatever you wish to call it) is taken away from us by time as well. While we may still have the energy, we may not have been granted adequate time to become a mother. Despite all of the wonders of modern technology, we still can't recapture time that is lost. But I do think it's possible to recapture spiritual energy. Gathering it back up to rejuvenate, repair and re-energize for worthy pursuits.
And, while meditation, yoga, or religious study may be the first methods that come to mind, there are a vast number of activities that can work wonders to recharge your personal battery, like reading, writing, taking a retreat weekend (GREAT idea!), or simply sitting still at your kitchen table and contemplating a cup of tea. Saying 'no' more often also goes a very long way to honoring that which is so precious and deserved...time for yourself. This is a tough one for so many of us who truly wish to be helpful when a friend or neighbor is looking to us for support (social invitations, last minute childcare, or supporting their in-home parties...ugh!), but these are opportunities to reclaim our energy and ourselves.
I also try to consider the great "energy" that comes with helping someone out, particularly when that person thinks enough of me to entrust me with the care and keeping of their child for a few hours. That's a different kind of energy (karmic!) that can feed you in a truly positive manner. I tend to look at these on a case by case basis, and determine whether it's truly a jam, or a developing dependency. In the case of the latter, deciding what's best for you may come at the price of having to say 'no' a lot and potentially distancing yourself from the parent(s).
In closing, I just thought I'd point out this idea. We talk about time in terms of it "passing". Time is fleeting, time flies, time marches on, time waits for no one. Sounds a little unforgiving, doesn't it? Energy, however, flows. You can put time and energy into things, many things. Perhaps you can't get the time back but I believe you can gather and re-harness energy. You can draw energy, you can store energy, you can give energy away and get it back again. You can't do that with time. So, if I can't control the passage of time, I can at least control the flow of my energy every day.
This week, however, holding onto my energy is not nearly as important as into what, or whom, I am investing it. And with the school year fast approaching, that's a no-brainer...my kids are the current benefactors. (Get it? Current, energy?) At the risk of committing social Hari-Kari for the remainder of August, if I am being asked to choose between supporting someone's in-home party, or a night at home playing cards with my kids, the likely response will be "go fish".
Here's what I did on my summer vacation: Mostly, I worked almost every day from April through the early part of August. Hours, days and weeks of search work leaving me feeling both frantic and frustrated, but keeping roof intact and belly's full. The only regular reprieve I had was the weekend Farmer's Market on the Pembroke Green (we participated this year under the name "Tap Root Gardens"...more on this later), and my exercise routines. I got intimate with my yoga mat again...and found that I can no longer go through life neglecting my tendons, joints, ligaments and muscle fibers. Let's face it, as far as injuries go, I've been damn lucky for a very long time. No sense tempting fate.
I ran my first real road race just a few days before my 43rd birthday, then ran my second one three days later...and placed first for my age group! That was probably the personal/public highlight of my summer. I met quite a few avid racers who insist I run more races, longer races, harder races. They were incredibly nice and solicited equal parts praise and recommendations on other local races to run. Let's face it, I'm just not that interested in running competitively. I'd rather go for the personal long hall and say that I ran well into my 70's because I took care of my body. Leaning on a cane at 67 because my knees gave out after attempting to run the Boston Marathon at 43 is not my idea of a success story. Again...why tempt fate?
I have taken these last remaining weeks of August off to spend some serious time with my kids, and myself, before September "madness" rushes in and takes over. I love back to school...the clothes shopping, buying the back packs, the smell of new leather shoes (anyone remember Buster Browns?). I love knowing fall is right around the corner (hands down, my favorite season of all!). The foods and cooking opportunities Autumn offers is half the reason I love it so much. However, ramping up mentally for a demanding work schedule is somehow not as easy this year. I really have enjoyed the summer for a change. I think it may be the garden and the chickens contributing to my later-in-life blooming appreciation of summer's charms.
I never really cared all that much for the hot and sticky weather, crowded/trash-strewn beaches, shirtless mowing (does my neighbor have any idea how bad this looks?), or the relentless social calendar that seems to dry up the minute the calendar page turns to October. Can't we have a little balance here? How about a few get-togethers in February? You know, when it's cold and nasty out? I find the comfort of a few good friends gathered around the table brings a unique warmth of it's own and can more than rival any mid-July backyard barbeque for socializing. The glorious stretch of hot weather we enjoyed from late June to mid-August was certainly partly to blame for my recent enjoyment...and the noticeable lack of mosquito's didn't hurt either.
The real lesson this season was in learning how to slow down...I mean REALLY SLOW DOWN! I need to thank my yogic breathing for most of this. I never realized until recently how shallow my breathing typically is...especially when I'm stressed with work. But I also learned to say yes to things I would normally never consider, like waking up on a Tuesday and saying to my family "work will always be here, let's go to the beach!" During July and August I ended up taking most Friday's off for personal rejuvenation and preparation for the weekend market. I really enjoyed the fresh produce this season had to offer, daily! I've never eaten such an abundance and array of fresh, locally grown veggies and fruits! I got experimental with a few of the local food-crafter's offerings (a sweet basil jelly that will have you scouring your kitchen for something worthy to spread it on, a pumpkin butter to die for, and an "herbs de provence" bread that will literally transport you, with every bite, to a field of rosemary and lavender...a true slice of heaven). I have even developed a signature sandwich using these local ingredients that I will proudly publish on the Pembroke Farmer's Market website in the next month.
I am developing into a Locavore...studying it like an art form. Most of the best finds are at these Farmer's Market's, though the road-side stands are worth checking out, too. Despite my best efforts this summer, and sneaky recipes, our children have not yet developed an appetite for earthly bounty, unless it's covered in chocolate and rolled in sugar. But at least they have an appreciation for the garden and growing. They'll really miss it once it's snow-covered and no longer demanding hours of daily attention from their father, who will doubtlessly limit their daily shenanigans and uproarious antics that typically erupt after long summer days of torturing each other. They're also really enjoying the chickens. I have chickens...does this make me a farmer's wife? Visions of Green Acre's dancing in my head. I can empathize with Eva and her stiletto's in a big way! Every day we check to see if one of our fine feathered ladies has worked up the nerve as yet to sit in the nest box and earn her keep...so far, nada. I look forward to fresh eggs, and will wrestle with how many to sell and how many to keep for family and friend. I will be posting a special blog when that miraculous day finally does come.
My personal growth is almost more of a retro-movement. I have managed to get back into the spiritual form of my twenties by way of yoga, reading, living in the moment more often then not, paying attention to my spiritual hunger (requiring daily nourishment), practicing moderation in every way, and developing a great awareness around energy depletion and unnecessary energy consumption. Not the kind that comes and goes through wall sockets, but the kind that comes and goes through people. I'm learning to be a bit more selfish about how I use my energy. I think personal physical and spiritual energy, like real batteries, come with limitations on demand. I believe true recharge only comes when you stop allowing it to leach out in small increments, and just sit for a long while with yourself. Like you're on a charger and you really don't have the capability to deplete yourself any further. I am learning to hold onto my energy, avoiding misuse and unnecessary expenditure.
As everyone now knows, a poorly insulated home has lots of cracks and surface breaks where energy pours out of the home in both large and small amounts, only to be wasted when released into the atmosphere. Having your home audited for CO2 emissions and insulating it against energy loss can save you a lot of money. It also makes you feel a lot better about your external "greening" efforts. I think this type of focus and effort should be applied to your internal house, too. Thinking of my soul as my furnace or as my central electric system, I have begun to consider how much of my energy gets wasted or sucked away by many daily aspects of my life; work, social pursuits, even family have a way of demanding energy from you that can cost you dearly in the long run. Putting up a protective fence, a boundary, and insulating your spiritual house through careful contemplation of where your energy is going and whether it's being wasted can go a long way to preserving that which is so precious in all of us...our life force.
When a friend says they've wasted so much "time" on something or someone, I tend to think more about the "energy" they gave away to that purpose or person. As women, we worry more about time because, naturally, our bodies supposedly have a built in clock that tells us when it's time to become a woman and become a mother. Eventually, that honor, opportunity, right or responsibility (whatever you wish to call it) is taken away from us by time as well. While we may still have the energy, we may not have been granted adequate time to become a mother. Despite all of the wonders of modern technology, we still can't recapture time that is lost. But I do think it's possible to recapture spiritual energy. Gathering it back up to rejuvenate, repair and re-energize for worthy pursuits.
And, while meditation, yoga, or religious study may be the first methods that come to mind, there are a vast number of activities that can work wonders to recharge your personal battery, like reading, writing, taking a retreat weekend (GREAT idea!), or simply sitting still at your kitchen table and contemplating a cup of tea. Saying 'no' more often also goes a very long way to honoring that which is so precious and deserved...time for yourself. This is a tough one for so many of us who truly wish to be helpful when a friend or neighbor is looking to us for support (social invitations, last minute childcare, or supporting their in-home parties...ugh!), but these are opportunities to reclaim our energy and ourselves.
I also try to consider the great "energy" that comes with helping someone out, particularly when that person thinks enough of me to entrust me with the care and keeping of their child for a few hours. That's a different kind of energy (karmic!) that can feed you in a truly positive manner. I tend to look at these on a case by case basis, and determine whether it's truly a jam, or a developing dependency. In the case of the latter, deciding what's best for you may come at the price of having to say 'no' a lot and potentially distancing yourself from the parent(s).
In closing, I just thought I'd point out this idea. We talk about time in terms of it "passing". Time is fleeting, time flies, time marches on, time waits for no one. Sounds a little unforgiving, doesn't it? Energy, however, flows. You can put time and energy into things, many things. Perhaps you can't get the time back but I believe you can gather and re-harness energy. You can draw energy, you can store energy, you can give energy away and get it back again. You can't do that with time. So, if I can't control the passage of time, I can at least control the flow of my energy every day.
This week, however, holding onto my energy is not nearly as important as into what, or whom, I am investing it. And with the school year fast approaching, that's a no-brainer...my kids are the current benefactors. (Get it? Current, energy?) At the risk of committing social Hari-Kari for the remainder of August, if I am being asked to choose between supporting someone's in-home party, or a night at home playing cards with my kids, the likely response will be "go fish".
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Spring Cleaning....Shoot me now, please
I have vivid memories of my mother gearing up for her annual spring cleaning extravaganza. We knew that our Saturday morning cartoons would be interrupted early that day. Mom would be up on one of the kitchen chairs, teetering precariously on tiptoes, dusting implement in hand, ready to do battle with whatever minor cobwebs had built up over the last week or so. The only difference between this weekend and any other weekend of the year was that Mom was going for the deep down allover clean...the "eat off the floors" kind. This was the only time of year the windows in the house were bare, she'd pulled the drapes down for cleaning, and the light in living room was drastically different. It was so bright!! I remember her collapsing at the end of the day with a look of exhaustion mingled with little bits of satisfaction tugging at the smile lines on her face.
Cleaning a house means taking stock of what you have, what you need, and what you probably don't want or need anymore. Cleaning and clearing out requires energy, lots of it. And, executing on decisions about what to throw out is, in it's own way, liberating and exhausting.
I love to throw things out, but the mental exercise of the process can be emotionally draining...especially when it comes to things like clothing (particularly baby clothes...keepsakes in one pile, consignment in another, everything else to Goodwill), toys (the first Easter toy we ever bought Sofia...we kept it), odds and ends picked up here and there on weekend trips during our courtship, the most expensive bathing suit purchased ten years prior (and have no hope of fitting into again)...and those damn financial records from the last twelve years! What's the rule? Isn't it seven years? Gosh, that pile would make a great bonfire! I think I hem/haw so much over these items because I'm afraid I'm going to regret throwing them out...or worse, realize I need them again. In some cases that would mean I'd have to replace them. Which means spending money on something I didn't need to. So while I'm purging my home of unnecessary clutter, I console myself by intellectualizing repeatedly that the likelihood of needing any of it again is not high. And, usually, it's true.
I enjoy having stuff, just like everybody else. Buying and owning stuff also means being responsible for taking care of that stuff. And, that takes time. The time it takes you to care for the stuff can sometimes be overwhelming. While some stuff is great to own (clothes, a television, pets), there are other types of stuff that are more enjoyable when borrowed and returned...like library books. What a novel concept!...no pun intended And, like the George Carlin skit so accurately points out (about stuff), it gets to a point where your stuff requires so much time and money to maintain it, that you have to get another job to earn enough money to care for your stuff, and so eventually your stuff starts to own you. It's a vicious cycle, isn't it?
I heard a customer who is from a long line of family mariners remark at the wine store a couple weeks back about the two happiest days of his life. The day he bought his boat...and the day he sold his boat. The point being that his boat fetish was cured after only a few years of ownership, and that his wife was grateful to have her husband back. They'd both been owned too long by their boat, and the time and financial drain it caused was not at all missed. Good to know.
So what does all this have to do with spring cleaning? Well, I guess the point is this is a great time of year to really take stock of how much you have, how much you need, and how you would rather be spending your time, money and energy. Throw the whole carbon footprint thing into this equation, and you've got plenty of motivation to take a good hard look at your attic, your basement, and every space in between, and make some room for "green space". Space that isn't cluttered with stuff gathering dust or being used as a clothes hanger. Space that is open, airy, unfettered, and completely "unstuffed".
Then, think about all the really needy people out there who would love to have your old stuff...and whether you sell it into consignment, or donate it, chances are it's going to make someone else very happy.
But lets talk about the other benefit of a major purge. Less stuff to dust! My house is a dust magnet. I have to dust every week or there is a thin white film covering every available surface. It's beyond frustrating. That's my motivation for spring cleaning this year. I have read online that several of the major causes of dust is clothing, upholstered furniture, rugs, mattresses, attic insulation and furnace filters that are not frequently cleaned or replaced. Basically, our stuff is attacking us with dust. Fortunately, I don't suffer many allergies. My husband does, but it's the typical pollen and hay fever type. Neither of the kids seem all that bothered by dust...even when it's covering a half eaten tootsie roll abandoned the week before. (I know, gross!) It doesn't matter how thorough a job I do either, it taunts me relentlessly...week after week. And I've resigned myself to having to live with it at some level. But if it gets any worse, I'm buying one of those air purifiers....one with a low carbon footprint, of course! :)
What I love about a clean house is the sense of order. I truly have difficulty functioning on any morning if the beds are not made and there are dishes in the sink. It's like some weird mental checklist I have to tick off before I can get on with the business of living that day. Neurotic you say? Sure, why not? But I know many folks with stranger rituals than that....and until someone tells me that its a sign of an untreatable condition, its not going to change. Besides, whats wrong with being organized? Not alphabetizing your movie collection organized, I mean knowing exactly where the scissors are when you need them, or stacking your bills by due date so you don't miss one, thereby decreasing your chances of racking up intolerable late fees.
You realize I don't live like this day-to-day. My house is not consistently clutter free and organized. It's more/less an ideal I strive for and am able to achieve once every three months or so. But I keep trying...and will likely keep trying until I'm able to get my kids to take an interest in it. Until then, I'll have to settle for letting them learn by osmosis...you know, watching me clean...feather duster in hand, teetering on my kitchen chair.
And because it's my other consistent habit, I'll tell you that the '05's from France and California are drinking beautifully right now. However, I have heard that the '09's are going to be stellar!! Buy 'em young and store 'em now!
Another hot tip, if you haven't tried Rose since the 70's, you're in for a whole new world! You can get Chateau de Campuget for about $12.00 a bottle right now...it's a lovely, delicate, light and only slightly fruity wine. And if you're going there anyway, grab a bottle of Volver while (in the Spain section). A relentlessly lush, fruit-forward Temperanillo with a little bite on the finish, but all together yummy!
Enjoy!!
Cleaning a house means taking stock of what you have, what you need, and what you probably don't want or need anymore. Cleaning and clearing out requires energy, lots of it. And, executing on decisions about what to throw out is, in it's own way, liberating and exhausting.
I love to throw things out, but the mental exercise of the process can be emotionally draining...especially when it comes to things like clothing (particularly baby clothes...keepsakes in one pile, consignment in another, everything else to Goodwill), toys (the first Easter toy we ever bought Sofia...we kept it), odds and ends picked up here and there on weekend trips during our courtship, the most expensive bathing suit purchased ten years prior (and have no hope of fitting into again)...and those damn financial records from the last twelve years! What's the rule? Isn't it seven years? Gosh, that pile would make a great bonfire! I think I hem/haw so much over these items because I'm afraid I'm going to regret throwing them out...or worse, realize I need them again. In some cases that would mean I'd have to replace them. Which means spending money on something I didn't need to. So while I'm purging my home of unnecessary clutter, I console myself by intellectualizing repeatedly that the likelihood of needing any of it again is not high. And, usually, it's true.
I enjoy having stuff, just like everybody else. Buying and owning stuff also means being responsible for taking care of that stuff. And, that takes time. The time it takes you to care for the stuff can sometimes be overwhelming. While some stuff is great to own (clothes, a television, pets), there are other types of stuff that are more enjoyable when borrowed and returned...like library books. What a novel concept!...no pun intended And, like the George Carlin skit so accurately points out (about stuff), it gets to a point where your stuff requires so much time and money to maintain it, that you have to get another job to earn enough money to care for your stuff, and so eventually your stuff starts to own you. It's a vicious cycle, isn't it?
I heard a customer who is from a long line of family mariners remark at the wine store a couple weeks back about the two happiest days of his life. The day he bought his boat...and the day he sold his boat. The point being that his boat fetish was cured after only a few years of ownership, and that his wife was grateful to have her husband back. They'd both been owned too long by their boat, and the time and financial drain it caused was not at all missed. Good to know.
So what does all this have to do with spring cleaning? Well, I guess the point is this is a great time of year to really take stock of how much you have, how much you need, and how you would rather be spending your time, money and energy. Throw the whole carbon footprint thing into this equation, and you've got plenty of motivation to take a good hard look at your attic, your basement, and every space in between, and make some room for "green space". Space that isn't cluttered with stuff gathering dust or being used as a clothes hanger. Space that is open, airy, unfettered, and completely "unstuffed".
Then, think about all the really needy people out there who would love to have your old stuff...and whether you sell it into consignment, or donate it, chances are it's going to make someone else very happy.
But lets talk about the other benefit of a major purge. Less stuff to dust! My house is a dust magnet. I have to dust every week or there is a thin white film covering every available surface. It's beyond frustrating. That's my motivation for spring cleaning this year. I have read online that several of the major causes of dust is clothing, upholstered furniture, rugs, mattresses, attic insulation and furnace filters that are not frequently cleaned or replaced. Basically, our stuff is attacking us with dust. Fortunately, I don't suffer many allergies. My husband does, but it's the typical pollen and hay fever type. Neither of the kids seem all that bothered by dust...even when it's covering a half eaten tootsie roll abandoned the week before. (I know, gross!) It doesn't matter how thorough a job I do either, it taunts me relentlessly...week after week. And I've resigned myself to having to live with it at some level. But if it gets any worse, I'm buying one of those air purifiers....one with a low carbon footprint, of course! :)
What I love about a clean house is the sense of order. I truly have difficulty functioning on any morning if the beds are not made and there are dishes in the sink. It's like some weird mental checklist I have to tick off before I can get on with the business of living that day. Neurotic you say? Sure, why not? But I know many folks with stranger rituals than that....and until someone tells me that its a sign of an untreatable condition, its not going to change. Besides, whats wrong with being organized? Not alphabetizing your movie collection organized, I mean knowing exactly where the scissors are when you need them, or stacking your bills by due date so you don't miss one, thereby decreasing your chances of racking up intolerable late fees.
You realize I don't live like this day-to-day. My house is not consistently clutter free and organized. It's more/less an ideal I strive for and am able to achieve once every three months or so. But I keep trying...and will likely keep trying until I'm able to get my kids to take an interest in it. Until then, I'll have to settle for letting them learn by osmosis...you know, watching me clean...feather duster in hand, teetering on my kitchen chair.
And because it's my other consistent habit, I'll tell you that the '05's from France and California are drinking beautifully right now. However, I have heard that the '09's are going to be stellar!! Buy 'em young and store 'em now!
Another hot tip, if you haven't tried Rose since the 70's, you're in for a whole new world! You can get Chateau de Campuget for about $12.00 a bottle right now...it's a lovely, delicate, light and only slightly fruity wine. And if you're going there anyway, grab a bottle of Volver while (in the Spain section). A relentlessly lush, fruit-forward Temperanillo with a little bite on the finish, but all together yummy!
Enjoy!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
"Mom? How do you spell....."
First Grade has been an amazing adventure for my seven year old. I'm so happy to tell you all that she's been bit by the spelling bee...my first love, too! I love prepping with her on Thursdays for her weekly spelling test. She loves it because she's good at it, I love it because it allows for a wonderful weekly bonding opportunity...and lets face it, it's fun for me to watch her learn to love something I've always enjoyed so much.
My first thought when I woke up this morning was this...
Ever notice that Live spelled backwards is Evil...ever wonder about that? What's the opposite of love? Also evol (sounds the same as evil, spelled a little different). But if you add another 1/2 of that word, you have evolve. What's up with this? My Dad was pointing out to me yesterday that one of his new low fat cereals is made by a company called Erehwon...spelled backwards, it's "nowhere". I wonder if the company's key stakeholders realized this? Maybe it's an inside joke that we'll never be privy to, but I'll venture a guess their marketing department knew what they were doing.
Dad and I enjoy a mutual love of words, turn of phrase and double entendre. I'm pretty sure I got that from him. I stare at words and pull them apart, piece them back together, look up the Latin root and figure out a way to use them in a sentence (without being obvious) the next time I speak to someone. Really, it's just a game but I do think it keeps my brain a bit sharper.
Some of my favorite words are nuance, prestidigitation, turpitude, irony, and matrix. Can't just throw these into a sentence without having planned well in advance when and where you'll casually steer a conversation from planting tulip bulbs, to the virtues of a well played sleight-of-hand trick.
Words are wonderful, fun, plentiful, and almost always used in ways, means and forms that are incredibly useful for ongoing human communication. In an ever-evolving commitment to reducing, reusing and recycling, I challenge you to harness the power of words in the same way. Ok, I'm challenging myself and ya'll know how painfully difficult this will be for me. I love to talk. I do it for a living!
Examples of how carefully chosen words have impacted our perceptions are all around us. Our past President's John F. Kennedy and Bill Clinton, current President Barak Obama, and social leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King have often been described as great orators. Regardless of my own political affiliation, I love listening to their speeches, past and present. They understood the incredible power of a well crafted sentence.
But, for the sake of being succinct and to the point in this blog, I believe words are often used at a time when shutting up and listening are a better plan. From a very young age, my good friend Katie Thayer has enjoyed multiple trips to Japan with her father, and later in life, by herself. On her first trip, she was afraid she would be lost because she wouldn't understand what anyone was saying, and she confided in her Dad that she was pretty sure she'd be lonely. The best piece of advice her father ever gave her on how to conduct herself there (or in any foreign country) was to just be quiet and listen intently. She said she realized that it wasn't important whether people heard her speak, but that she learned through listening and observing all she ever needed to know about the Japanese. And she made friends.
Words are used too often at times without sincere consideration of their meaning and impact. People who casually throw out the words "I love you" without really considering how they feel about that person do a disservice to themselves and the person they're addressing. More to the point, they come across as completely superficial.
I tell my kids I love them every day, sometimes three to five times a day. I mean it, and they know it, and it's my goal to make sure they always know it. Even when we've had a tough day and we're on each others last nerve, they know I love them. I tell my husband I love him on a regular basis, but not because I'm feeling overly romantic. I say it when it counts...like when he's struggling, or overwhelmed, or screws up something he's been working on, or has been impatient with the kids and feels terrible for losing his temper. I don't tell him every day, I allow my actions to communicate that. But I tell him because he needs to hear it and because I want him to know that someone is REALLY on his side. If I said it more often, it starts to lose its meaning...something to say without thinking about what it actually means...a lot like saying "have a nice day". Have you ever said this to someone and walked away thinking "Gosh, I hope she has a really nice day!" For the sake of being sincere, lets just agree that 9 times out of 10, this doesn't cross anyone's mind.
Words, like any important resource, should be used with care and intention. We can treat words like we treat the resources in our environment; economically, purposefully, sparingly and meaningfully, so that we don't find ourselves struggling to find them, abusing them, saying we're using them for a good purpose and denying their domino affect...and damaging something else, releasing them into the air like toxins into the environment.
If you think about this in terms of economic value, it's an interesting equation. The virtues of being a great listener means you get an opportunity to learn without the tax of being considered a know-it-all. You earn interest by reserving your opinion and sharing what you've earned only when you know you can afford it, and there will be appreciation. Words, like energy and money, can be saved for a time when you really need them. And, when you finally use them, their value will have increased to the receiver ten fold because you used them sparingly in the past.
Applying the reduce, reuse, recycle ideal to daily communication only gets tricky when it comes to the recycling part. But I think it means that the reduction and careful reuse of words means you're not going to spend a whole lot more time and energy having to find new ones. Perhaps what it means is we don't need more words, we only need to use the ones we have with more of a conscience.
Oh, and for the sake of brevity: I am crazy about a Beaujolais we've been carrying at the store for a few months, Chateau de la Chaize. Light, fruity and delish!
Enjoy!
My first thought when I woke up this morning was this...
Ever notice that Live spelled backwards is Evil...ever wonder about that? What's the opposite of love? Also evol (sounds the same as evil, spelled a little different). But if you add another 1/2 of that word, you have evolve. What's up with this? My Dad was pointing out to me yesterday that one of his new low fat cereals is made by a company called Erehwon...spelled backwards, it's "nowhere". I wonder if the company's key stakeholders realized this? Maybe it's an inside joke that we'll never be privy to, but I'll venture a guess their marketing department knew what they were doing.
Dad and I enjoy a mutual love of words, turn of phrase and double entendre. I'm pretty sure I got that from him. I stare at words and pull them apart, piece them back together, look up the Latin root and figure out a way to use them in a sentence (without being obvious) the next time I speak to someone. Really, it's just a game but I do think it keeps my brain a bit sharper.
Some of my favorite words are nuance, prestidigitation, turpitude, irony, and matrix. Can't just throw these into a sentence without having planned well in advance when and where you'll casually steer a conversation from planting tulip bulbs, to the virtues of a well played sleight-of-hand trick.
Words are wonderful, fun, plentiful, and almost always used in ways, means and forms that are incredibly useful for ongoing human communication. In an ever-evolving commitment to reducing, reusing and recycling, I challenge you to harness the power of words in the same way. Ok, I'm challenging myself and ya'll know how painfully difficult this will be for me. I love to talk. I do it for a living!
Examples of how carefully chosen words have impacted our perceptions are all around us. Our past President's John F. Kennedy and Bill Clinton, current President Barak Obama, and social leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King have often been described as great orators. Regardless of my own political affiliation, I love listening to their speeches, past and present. They understood the incredible power of a well crafted sentence.
But, for the sake of being succinct and to the point in this blog, I believe words are often used at a time when shutting up and listening are a better plan. From a very young age, my good friend Katie Thayer has enjoyed multiple trips to Japan with her father, and later in life, by herself. On her first trip, she was afraid she would be lost because she wouldn't understand what anyone was saying, and she confided in her Dad that she was pretty sure she'd be lonely. The best piece of advice her father ever gave her on how to conduct herself there (or in any foreign country) was to just be quiet and listen intently. She said she realized that it wasn't important whether people heard her speak, but that she learned through listening and observing all she ever needed to know about the Japanese. And she made friends.
Words are used too often at times without sincere consideration of their meaning and impact. People who casually throw out the words "I love you" without really considering how they feel about that person do a disservice to themselves and the person they're addressing. More to the point, they come across as completely superficial.
I tell my kids I love them every day, sometimes three to five times a day. I mean it, and they know it, and it's my goal to make sure they always know it. Even when we've had a tough day and we're on each others last nerve, they know I love them. I tell my husband I love him on a regular basis, but not because I'm feeling overly romantic. I say it when it counts...like when he's struggling, or overwhelmed, or screws up something he's been working on, or has been impatient with the kids and feels terrible for losing his temper. I don't tell him every day, I allow my actions to communicate that. But I tell him because he needs to hear it and because I want him to know that someone is REALLY on his side. If I said it more often, it starts to lose its meaning...something to say without thinking about what it actually means...a lot like saying "have a nice day". Have you ever said this to someone and walked away thinking "Gosh, I hope she has a really nice day!" For the sake of being sincere, lets just agree that 9 times out of 10, this doesn't cross anyone's mind.
Words, like any important resource, should be used with care and intention. We can treat words like we treat the resources in our environment; economically, purposefully, sparingly and meaningfully, so that we don't find ourselves struggling to find them, abusing them, saying we're using them for a good purpose and denying their domino affect...and damaging something else, releasing them into the air like toxins into the environment.
If you think about this in terms of economic value, it's an interesting equation. The virtues of being a great listener means you get an opportunity to learn without the tax of being considered a know-it-all. You earn interest by reserving your opinion and sharing what you've earned only when you know you can afford it, and there will be appreciation. Words, like energy and money, can be saved for a time when you really need them. And, when you finally use them, their value will have increased to the receiver ten fold because you used them sparingly in the past.
Applying the reduce, reuse, recycle ideal to daily communication only gets tricky when it comes to the recycling part. But I think it means that the reduction and careful reuse of words means you're not going to spend a whole lot more time and energy having to find new ones. Perhaps what it means is we don't need more words, we only need to use the ones we have with more of a conscience.
Oh, and for the sake of brevity: I am crazy about a Beaujolais we've been carrying at the store for a few months, Chateau de la Chaize. Light, fruity and delish!
Enjoy!
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Ode to the Fruitcake...a poem
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, except me in my blouse
I was stirring and stirring and scraping the bowl
Nary a raisin nor cherry left out of the fold
As the oven was heating, I said a small prayer
That no one would wake and find me down here
I waited with patience for the last sleepy head
to finally start yawning and head up to bed
A secret I’ve kept for about 35 years
Afraid of the ridicule, the whispers, the stares
And yet every time someone mentions the word
Each person in earshot agrees it’s absurd
“Who’d actually eat it?” they’d ask all disgusted
“Not me” I’d reply, hoping I won’t get busted
But it’s not fair, you know, living with this denial
Not sharing my love for what others claim is so vile
When the jokes start to roll about how gross this confection
Often re-gifted or thrown out, I feel its rejection
Not standing up for its odd texture and bright flavors
Results in a shame that year by year never waivers
Instead of get angry, I just bake them for gifting
And as each one rises I feel my spirits lifting
Some day I’ll “Come Out” and confess my real passion
For this Christmas delight that knows no compassion
Let them talk, let them laugh, I won’t give a hoot
Just leave me alone with my cake made of fruit
Not a creature was stirring, except me in my blouse
I was stirring and stirring and scraping the bowl
Nary a raisin nor cherry left out of the fold
As the oven was heating, I said a small prayer
That no one would wake and find me down here
I waited with patience for the last sleepy head
to finally start yawning and head up to bed
A secret I’ve kept for about 35 years
Afraid of the ridicule, the whispers, the stares
And yet every time someone mentions the word
Each person in earshot agrees it’s absurd
“Who’d actually eat it?” they’d ask all disgusted
“Not me” I’d reply, hoping I won’t get busted
But it’s not fair, you know, living with this denial
Not sharing my love for what others claim is so vile
When the jokes start to roll about how gross this confection
Often re-gifted or thrown out, I feel its rejection
Not standing up for its odd texture and bright flavors
Results in a shame that year by year never waivers
Instead of get angry, I just bake them for gifting
And as each one rises I feel my spirits lifting
Some day I’ll “Come Out” and confess my real passion
For this Christmas delight that knows no compassion
Let them talk, let them laugh, I won’t give a hoot
Just leave me alone with my cake made of fruit
Monday, November 30, 2009
Girlfriend Salad
Enduring friendships and other things to be grateful for…
Like anyone with something to say, lots of some-things, I hemmed and hawed over this piece for at least a week before committing to an idea. I thought maybe Thanksgiving Day would provide required inspiration for an emerging theme. Overall, it’s been a really tough year and being grateful for all of the blessings in my life is something I have to practice actively or I lose perspective…so I really can’t sit here and preach about how important it is to sustain an attitude of gratitude when I struggle with it daily.
On Thanksgiving morning, after a pretty rough night of too much wine and way too many cookies, I knew I had to get with the program quickly. If my husband’s family starts going around the table asking each person what they are thankful for, I had to come up with something profound and unpredictable…you know, something they didn’t see coming, just to see if they’re paying attention. So I started with the basics. I began by ticking these off each finger and thought of how each might inspire my answer…and hopefully, my blog. Ok, we’ve got health, food, shelter, family, a sense of humor…wow, I’m at five…need to use my other hand; a career in the midst of resuscitation, a recession in the midst of rebounding, a husband in the midst of self-discovery & reclamation, and the basic creature comforts (cable and a library card). Then I got stuck…so I stopped at nine figuring anything beyond that will sound like gloating.
What served as excellent dinner conversation did not suffice as blog inspiration, however. So, I gave myself a few days to allow an idea to percolate. When it finally came, it was in the form of a knock on my front door and an unexpected visit from one of my best friends. By the end of our impromptu visit, it was crystal clear to me what I needed to say.
It occurs to me that maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that I called this blog “GreenSoul”…it may have been a sort of unconscious epiphany about being a new soul, a young soul, a “green” soul. I am still learning, we all are, that’s not news. But what does it mean when you start to re-learn? What I mean is I’m getting lots of reminders about things I had down pat twenty years ago. For example, I used to make something called “fridge salad”. I would open the fridge and just throw whatever looked good and pretty fresh into a bowl and splash lo-cal dressing on it. I even went into the cereal closet and figured out what would stand up to dressing and what wouldn’t (All Bran looks hearty, but it really doesn’t hold up under pressure). Making a salad is more fun when you throw things in that are decidedly “unsalad-like” ingredients. Like, Chex cereal or mini shredded wheat. Ever chop up a baked potato and throw it in to some lettuce with carrots, cukes and ranch or blue cheese dressing? It’s good stuff! When did my salads get so orthodox? The most exciting thing I put in salad now is a pair of exotic wooden salad tongs, a gift I received from a world-traveling friend last Christmas. I’m going back to my funky “fridge salad” practices starting tomorrow. The other re-realization is that regular aerobic activity really does give you the energy to get through a whole day. I’m not longer tempted to “rest my eyes” for a few minutes around 3:00 p.m., nor am I threatened by an impromptu face-plant into my keyboard at 8:30 at night. I actually do feel awake and alert most of the day…most days…except for those days when I have a glass of red wine with dinner (recently fallen in love with Beaujolais…a world of yum in a bottle!).
What does salad have to do with a visit from a close friend? Good question, I’m not quite sure how I got there either, but let me see if I can make sense of this…for both you and me. My closest friends are the ones I made in my twenties. This was a time in my life I was certainly the most raw, the most insecure, the most self-involved and the most idealistic. God, I was so happy on my 30th birthday! One of the things I did really right in my early twenties though was attract and maintain a strong circle of friends. This has been the one investment that has always had the most tremendous ROI. I can count my closest friends on one hand, and each of those fingers represents a relationship this is over twenty years in the making. Each one is precious, irreplaceable and each has nurtured some part of my green soul over these many years. They always have been and, God willing, continue to be a central beam in the support system of my overall “house”…these stewards of enduring female friendship. Over the years these incredible people have been, at one time or another, my soul mate, teacher, sister, mother, confidant, sounding board, mirror, life-coach, career advisor, and change-agent. They are my touchstone, my voice of reason, my shoulder to lean on, and my lasso of truth. We don’t spend as much time together in the same room as we once did, but it’s that incredible sense of shared experiences, terrific chemistry, and a deep understanding of the other’s personal history that binds us together. I love knowing that no matter how infrequent the calls or meetings over coffee, the next time we talk we’ll pick up right where we left off the day, week, month or year before. These are the women with whom I will continue to share all the significant moments of my life, who I will call when I just can’t take it anymore, with whom I will celebrate successes, holidays and all of life’s major events, and who I would mourn and grieve endlessly for should they pass on before me. They are all unique, all inspiring and all equally responsible for contributing to the continuing development of my Green Soul. My friends, you know who you are, but just in case….I’m toasting you this holiday season, Jude, Darlene, Jodi & Adina.
I love you all very much.
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