SAVE THE WORLD? NAH....

My "resolution" for this year was to STOP.   

I decided to stop trying to be or do anything particularly noteworthy.  Stop hoping for anything that is not happening.  In fact, I've banished "hope" from my vocabulary and emotional life.  Instead of saying "I hope..." this or that, I try to remember to say instead, "It would be nice if..."  I can hope all I want; that's not gonna make anything end up differently than how it will.  Hope feels like a wished for outcome without any real control over its realization.  

But just because I've given up on the word "hope", that doesn't mean I don't care.  Yet, sometimes I feel a wee bit like a slacker when I choose not to engage in various activities, events, conversations, commitments.  But it's getting easier the more I check in with myself and honor the answer that is already there.  Mostly that answer is: "No; not now."

I've spent most of my adult life saying "yes" to a zillion commitments.  Not only those that come to me from "outside" -- being asked to serve on a committee or join a group/organization or host a holiday gathering or go to a party. But also those that have come from within -- creating and facilitating any number groups, activities, and events that didn't exist before I imagined them into being and made them happen.

I don't regret most of those years of non-stop organizing and facilitating and working for various causes (both internal and external), but I do wish I had a some of that time back -- especially the time that ended up being compulsively perfectionistic, unwelcome, or ultimately meaningless.  I wish I had been more aware during the times I was over-calendared, stressed out, exhausted, and couldn't say "no", allowing one thing to snowball into the next.  I wish I had  been more aware of the toll it was taking on my mental and physical health and probably on my relationships.  I wish I'd taken longer breaks between one thing ending and another beginning.  

I think that might be what I'm doing now.  Or maybe it will always be like this year has been going forward.  I've continued to address my own internal life, some relationship stuff with Hub, my family and friends, but with less urgency, less desperation, less "hope".  I'm finally seeing clearly how things are.  I don't have to like it.  I do have to decide if I can live with it.  So far I can.  And with that I am more content...or getting there anyway.

As for worldly concerns, I've taken an enormous step back.  I unsubscribed to most political and non-profit outreaches.  I reluctantly turn on the nightly news -- but now the 30 minute version on network TV, not 2 hours of cable outrage political commentary every night (OK, just Monday night for my one weekly hour with Rachel Maddow, who is brilliant, funny, not outrageous, and does not yell.)  I still read the newspaper and various periodicals, but not religiously.  And yet, I still do great on the New York Times Friday News Quiz! Yay, me!  I'm not ignoring the world.  But I avoid a lot of the vitriol.  

And I'm not raising my hand to volunteer for much of anything.  The whole idea of "getting involved" sort of feels like a sucker punch to my gut.  There is a sense of pre-commitment angst just thinking about it.  I think this is maybe a PTSD reaction or an indicator of burn-out.  I just can't seem to motivate myself to be the old me.

I watch others step into action and feel some guilt.  My local Indivisible group is incredibly politically active, working for issues and candidates I support.  I know it's held together by the hard, tireless work of a few strong, amazing women.  In a former life I would have been one of them.  Now I support them financially, write postcards to local voters, go to the occasional rally -- not nearly enough support for them.  But the thought of being more involved makes me feel a sense of dread.

I watch in my own home as Hub is immersed, as he's been for more than 5 years now, in work around educating and organizing groups to address the climate crisis.  I have resented his hours of devotion to various commitments around that issue over recent years.  It seems to consume him at times.  This year I realized this will not change.  It has been the same with other "causes" over the years, even when we both were over-committed.  I changed my priorities, but he didn't in that regard.  So I have to change my perspective.  I tell myself, "He works part time/half-time." His payment isn't monetary, but it is obviously rewarding for him to be engaged in this way or he wouldn't do it.  I think of it as his job now and the hours he spends in various in-person or Zoom meetings, at the computer, on the phone talking or texting, or with email, each happening at all hours of day/evening/weekends as the need arises, are how he does his work.  His commitment is commendable and his work important.  I'm glad it's not me.

So, how do I occupy my time?   

• I'm not planning, striving, hoping, working, engaged in conflict, or losing sleep.  I don't have a calendar that rules my life; nothing is there that can't be changed or cancelled for reasons large and small.  
• I am more home and garden focused, seeking to do satisfying tasks, even the unpleasant ones, that contribute to surrounding myself with beauty and comfort.  
• I stare out my big windows appreciating my great view of the city, water, mountains and the changing sky.  
• I've befriended the neighborhood cat and love sitting with him on my porch when he visits.  
• I try to see my youngest granddaughter (8) when I can: she still thinks I'm great and fun to be with so I have to take full advantage of that while it lasts.  She's my last admirer in the family.  LOL
• I see a few treasured friends.  
• I am reading for pleasure, having re-discovered fiction, especially woman-centered novels that are not sad or terrifying.  (English mysteries are nice.)  
• I am taking care of my growing-older body, which demands more time than one would imagine -- yoga asana practice, walking, weight training, nutrition, weight loss/maintenance, flossing. LOL  
• I take some occasional solo trips and am planning some big ones with Hub for next year.  
• I am re-learning needle crafts: sewing, embroidery, and my usual crochet.  
• I write this blog.  
• I teach some online yoga philosophy and general encouragement to meditate and move.  
• I scroll Facebook.  
• I watch TV shows -- lots and lots of cooking/travel/nature shows, fun comedies,  drama that isn't based on sadness and terror. (Thanks PBS).   
• I also watch football--Go Hawks!  (We all have our inconsistencies.  LOL)

All of that sounds like the very epitome of a woman I would have previously judged unengaged, lazy,  unmotivated, privileged, maybe stupid, definitely "old".  Uh-huh.  I am privileged.  I know that.  As for the rest?  Not so much.  I feel more alive and aware than at any other time in my life.  And I've stopped feeling badly about feeling contented most of the time.  I have devoted most of my adult life to efforts to effect change in the public square.  Right now I need to just stay home, do what I can -- but not more than I can stand.  I use my privilege to try to support those who are out there fighting the good fight.  I'm learning that others will do as they do for as long as it serves them to do it.  Then the baton is passed.  I've passed the baton for now.  

But 2024 is coming....who knows what next year will bring?  

At least, that's the view from here...©

OLDER PERSON CRAWLING

No matter our age, we are all getting older.  So I don't put much stock in "old people".  Unless you are a newborn, everyone is older than someone.  And I absolutely reject the stereotypes of aging.   It's wrong, inaccurate, discriminatory, and keeps us all in judgement and fear.

That said, I absolutely do realize that there are different capabilities at different ages and stages.  I couldn't crawl before it was time.  And now I realize it is far past time to be crawling.  LOL

This past week we decided to tackle painting two small (11 x 13) bedrooms.  Painting always sounds easy.  Looks easy on the ads.  Isn't easy.  There is So. Much. Prep. Removing wall art, fixtures, taping off woodwork, patching and sanding nail holes, shoving and carrying large heavy pieces of furniture that end up part of the living room and hallway "decor" for the duration...  You know.  You've been there.  

We got the painting finished (looks great!) and decided, "Well, the rooms are empty.  Let's remove this old carpeting now rather than 'later' as planned".  So together, over the next two days, we got to work ripping up two rooms of wall to wall carpet, and pad, and CRAWLING ON THE FLOORS with crowbar and hammer pulling up the carpet tack strips nailed to the perimeter of all the walls ("we" meaning Hub), and CRAWLING ON THE FLOORS some more to remove about 500 staples that held the pads in place ("we" meaning me).  I believe the guy who manned the staple gun is no longer employed -- cost overruns on staples!  Then we lugged it all out to the pick-up truck for a dump run.  ("we" meaning Hub.)  

Once the pad was up we noticed splotches of dark red gooey stuff that had leached from the pad onto the hardwood floors beneath.  "We" (meaning me) CRAWLED OVER THE FLOORS AGAIN, with a putty knife trying to remove the goop.  Didn't work great and it left a stain making the floors look like they had a very aggressive case of measles.  I tried various stain removing products.  None worked. Hub tried to steam clean the stains to no avail.

So, we now have a guy coming out Monday to give us an estimate on refinishing the floors, as well as doing some other hardwood work in other areas that has been on hold for 'someday' for a long time.  One thing leads to another...and if we go forward there will be even more of the above to do soon.  Ugh!

What this project has led to for me is humility.  I've worked hard to stay in pretty good shape physically.  But the first night after working on the floors I was miserable.  My usual cocktail of Ibuprofen and Tylenol was no match for the aches, pains, and stiffness I experienced.  My hip that has been giving me fits for nearly a year was screaming at me, as I hobbled around the house.  My knee was aching with the occasional breath-taking shooting pain.  My hands were bandaged and sore.

I had tried to avoid this.  I had tried doing the job on hands and knees on my garden pad (ouch on the knees anyway), then sitting cross-legged bending forward (ouch on the hip and back), then sitting on my bottom with legs splayed spread-eagled before me, also bending forward (ouch again on the back).  There was just no good way to tackle this on-the-floor project without my body protesting.  I got a blister in the palm of my hand from prying staples with a flat-head screwdriver and pulling them from the wood with needle-nosed pliers.  Thankfully I thought to put in earplugs when Hub was pounding the crowbar with the hammer to get the tack strips up -- protecting as best I could from making my diagnosed "mild to moderate" hearing loss worse.

We reminisced about how many times we've done this exact same thing in this home over the last 40 years in every room that originally had carpet.  And in our previous home.  And in the one before that.  But I don't recall being so physically uncomfortable as a result.  So, ages and stages.  It's real.

Still, I am grateful for a body that could do the job at all.  And the next day it went easier.  I'm still babying my hip, but that's been bugging me for awhile and at this point I have to take some responsibility for ignoring my training program for addressing it.  Wake-up call.  Do nothing...get no results.

As we grow older our expectations for what can and cannot be done must change.  We must be able to adapt and adjust.  I get that.  I really do get that.  And I actually find it a relief.  Painting, yes, a hassle but not very physically demanding.  Doable.  Crawling on the floor removing carpet/pad/nails/staples.  Doable, but not pleasant.  I've got maybe one more floor left in me. Maybe two, tops, if I have to.  Then I think I'll mark that chore off the "to do" list and put it on the "never again" list.   I'm not sure when I'll be incapable of  some of the things I do now, but by then I'll still be capable of so many other things!  And I'm grateful for that too.  Onward!  (But hopefully not on hands and knees.)

At least, that's the view from here...©

"NATURE RETREAT"

I woke up in the middle of the night a week ago Friday with a feeling of vertigo.  I ignored it, but the next day it hung in there with a headache attached.  Uh-oh.  Another migraine.  

I struggled through Saturday, then Sunday we left for a 4 day/3 night camping trip.  I felt icky.  I went anyway.  We'd already had to postpone it a couple of times for scheduling reasons.  Plus, I only go on one or two camper trips a season and this would be the  first for me.  (Fourth for Hub.)

It's well established that I don't love camping.  But I do love some natural settings and Mt. Rainier is one of them I love the most.  So I go there.  This time I decided to try something new.  I hung the moniker "Nature Retreat" on the trip, instead of "camping".  And I created an agenda of events that were not specifically tied to camping, but were tied to time in nature in some ways.  I decided this would make the whole trip more novel and creative.  I'm not sure I was entirely successful.  But it did have different elements and more intentionality.

Here is my Nature Retreat agenda.  We didn't stick to it religiously; some items were constant, some occasional, some didn't work at all.  But it helped set an intention and helped guide us in new ways.

Sunday:  Arrive, Read Nature Poem, Set Intention for Retreat, Snack/Explore, Create table centerpiece of natural objects, N/A drink, Finger Painting, Dinner, Fire, Sharing Gratitude

Monday: Qigong, Read Nature Poem, Set Intention for the Day, Senses Meditation, Hike (part in silence), Yoga stretch, N/A drink, Dinner, Fire, Sharing Gratitude

Tuesday: Qigong, Nature Poem, Set Intention for the Day, Senses Meditation, Choose animal/object name, Hike (keeping in mind the animal/object energy), Yoga stretch, N/A drink, Dinner, Sensory Exploration, Sharing Gratitude

Wednesday: Qigong, Lovingkindness Meditation, Depart

Lowlights for me:  

That damn headache that caused me to feel nauseated.  It lasted the entire week! I felt "off-balance" the whole time, like I was walking the deck of a ship that was rocking on swells.  I was grateful for my hiking poles which saved me from tipping over dozens of times.  I kept listing to the right like an errant grocery cart.  (Crossing a stream by balancing on half-submerged rocks and a log was particularly challenging.)  I want bonus points for being such a trooper.

The bear.  That morning we had drawn from a bowl of names of various animals to keep that animal's "energy" in mind as we hiked in silence for a bit. We also drew inanimate objects.  Hub drew "bear" and "stream".  I drew "eagle" and "log".  

He was a little disappointed in "bear", feeling he's never had much affinity or connection to hears.  But he decided to try to conjure up "bear energy" anyway. I know some people delight in the thrill of seeing wild animals in the forest.  I prefer foliage.  

About a mile from the end of our hike, Hub spied the black bear about 50 yards off the trail, hunting for berries.  He alerted me.  I caught a glimpse of it just as it raised its head to look directly at us.  We stood still, then slowly moved forward as it went back to its berry hunting.  I wanted to run.  I didn't.  But I recalled something about making noise so I started talking really loudly.  And walking with some determination away from it.  I was in a bit of a panic.  I realize I am more at risk for harm from gun violence in my own city on any given day, but all I could think of was the "Couple Mauled on Wonderland Trail" headline.  I was happy to get way past it and more happy to get out of the forest into the open and back to the campground.  I never saw my eagle, but Hub drawing bear energy to us was enough of a "thrill".  (Be careful what you ask for!)

Highlights for me:

Breathtaking views of the mountain.  Hikes that were moderate in difficulty and beautiful.  Hub being so incredibly kind, patient, and supportive of me and my impaired abilities due to dizziness and feeling crappy.  Hub taking care of all the cooking and logistics.  Our exploration of the senses:  I had packed a container of various "nature" items to "tickle" the senses.  I blindfolded Hub and ran various textures over his skin, offered him various things to smell, fed him various items to taste, to go with the sights and sounds we had already experienced earlier.  It was great fun and helped to create a mindfulness meditation on senses we so often take for granted.

At the end of our trip I was very ready to be home  I thought we'd pack and go.  But Hub suggested another hike, a snack at the river, a late lunch at a look-out perch to take in the mountain one last time.  (Read previous post for the difference in me -- "let's go home" and him -- "let's stay longer". )  In spite of my initial impatience I was glad we stayed.  The last hike was my favorite of the trip.  

We had reservations for one more camper outing this week, but it has been cancelled by the National Parks due to fire/smoke danger in the North Cascades.  I can't say that I am very disappointed.  I can call it a "Nature Retreat" all I want...it's still camping.  And once a year is enough for me.  Still, we live in a beautiful place where these "bucket list" destinations are within a couple hours' drive for us.  I am grateful for that.  I can easily go when I want to and Hub is happy to have me come along, even when I'm in less than stellar condition.

At least, that's the view from here...©