CLEARING SPACE

I got up this morning desperate to DO something about the overwhelm and sadness I've been feeling.  I feel like I'm drowning in the "clutter" of life -- can't figure out what's important to fight for, what's to be ignored, or what's to be discarded.  Can't figure out when my world started to tilt toward unrecognizable...

And I've decided it wasn't all of a sudden.  It wasn't November 8, 2016 and it wasn't 6 months ago or 3 days ago. The conditions for shock waves slowly take hold in unseen spaces as we blindly live lives we think we know, are sure of, will always be.  We think we've done the work of feminism, of democracy, of equality, of community-building, of relationships, of personal growth, of spiritual awakening, of health, of contentment...then suddenly the tectonic plates that have been inexorably shifting out of sight reach the point of no return and an earthquake erupts.  If you survive, there's a big mess to clean up.

So I got up this morning, headed to my office and attacked my bookshelf:  I'm cleaning up messes.  I've done a drastic clearing out of old books and made many book donations over the past couple of years.  But I cling to some that have special meaning and fond memories, some that I think 'someday' I'll read, some that seem like good references for future projects or topics of interest.

Today I let a huge number of my beloved books go.  Why hang on to old memories, when those times are gone?  Why assume I'll eventually read a book I never pick up to read?  Why assume I'll suddenly tackle a project I never prioritize?  Why continue to maintain a shelf of memories, forgotten dreams, and good intentions?  Even the well-read books seemed to sit there inert and dead in a way, no longer held in my hands, fingers giddily flipping pages of an engrossing story, hoping it never ends.  Everything ends.  Then the closed book taunts me to try to recreate that first blush of joy that can never be regained by merely keeping it around, its cover a reminder of the past.  Into the donation box.  Letting go of what was and what I thought might be there again.

I know many people my age who are doing the downsizing dance; selling their big homes and gardens and responsibilities and moving to smaller houses, apartments, condos.  They are neck deep in clearing out decades of "clutter" -- some junk and some beloved.  I admire their ability to cry through the hard parts and still to let things go.  I remain in my house, which I love, and  I wander through my gardens, still finding pleasure there.  I don't want to leave here yet.  Still, it's time to let so much of what has accumulated here go.  There's really no need for most of what's jammed on closet shelves, infrequently or never used, shuttered in the dark.  There's no need to try to predict what I might need someday. Predictions are a fool's errand.  Do I need it now?  No?  Gone.

Hardest for me is ridding the house of me.  I'm the family documentarian.  I keep bins of photographs and the computer hard drive full of even more; old journals, clippings of published pieces, poetry, essays, writing workshop first drafts; blog books I've created from these postings; mementos; cards I've received from loved ones with handwritten notes -- but, why hang onto to all that?  I think for me it is the fear of being forgotten.  If those things go away, so will I.  No one will know who I was or what was important to me or what brought me joy or sorrow, how I moved in the world, interpreting it and acting upon it.

How egotistical does that sound?  The quest for immortality?  The reality, of course, is that within three generations we are forgotten; my great-grandchildren won't have a clue who I was, nor care all that much.  One day all that stuff will be for someone else to discard, without a thought.  Well, maybe I'll leave it to them to do.  I'm not ready, today, to be disappeared.

But I am ready to let go of the things that no longer serve me: the physical "stuff" that grows moldy with neglect; the psychic "stuff" that haunts the mind; the precious "stuff" that breaks the heart.  There's a big mess to clean up.

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

Photo Credit:  www.pixabay.com

KINDLE FAIL

Because I've gotten super cheap when it comes to buying books, the other day I downloaded a book from my local library's E-book collection to my Kindle.  (How does that even work?  I have no idea.)  I started to read it and as is also typical lately, I fell asleep.  Not for long...just a little doze time.  When I woke up, I noticed I was actually about to start a new chapter -- how convenient, I thought, to fall asleep at the end of one chapter before starting the next!  I just kept reading on and off all day when I should have been doing productive things, but wanted to procrastinate even longer, and by last night I was stunned to note that little tracker in the bottom right hand corner of the "page" told me I was like 88% finished with the book!  I was so disappointed!

I was really enjoying the book -- one of my favorite genre combinations of memoir and humor in a collection of essays.  I really wasn't ready for it to end at all but yep, I was almost finished.  I felt rather ripped off and was totally glad I had not spent actual money on this thin volume, although I would have liked to support the author cuz she was hilarious and I like funny.

In bed last night, I quickly finished reading and was surprised to find one of those Reader's Guide Discussion Question things at the end, where you can go to your book club and not have to think of any insightful questions to ask since there they are already thought up and written out for your convenience.  I was curious, though, why this little slip of a book should have a Discussion Guide when really there wasn't that much substance there.  As I read through the questions, I started to wonder if this was all part of the joke.  The first several questions had absolutely nothing to do with the book!  I didn't even know what they were talking about!  HaHa.  So clever and subtle!

But that made no sense at all, really, so I went back to search for the Table of Contents and.....Oops! I had read the Introduction, but then I had skipped ahead (during my nap) and started re-reading the book half-way through!!!  I didn't read the whole first half of the book!  So I missed a whole bunch of really important stuff about her crazy childhood and mental illness.  No wonder she turned out to have such a delightfully twisted sense of humor!

Which makes me realize I really don't know how to operate a Kindle.  I have had this problem before where I touch the screen and I end up in some other part of the book.  I can't get back to where I was, can't find the table of contents, don't know how to "fast forward" or find my way back from an unintentional leap ahead.  I've just tried to use it as a mindfulness practice wherein the only thing that exists is the page in front of me.  There is no previous; there is no future.  Not sure how far back was the beginning, no idea when the end will come.  Very Zen.  But also very frustrating.  I would never get confused and start reading a real book in the middle.  That would be an immediately obvious error, for chrissake.

The saving grace is that now I get to go back and read the beginning of the book and spend a lot more time with a new author I enjoy!  So, win-win, I guess.  But let's face it; a Kindle is not really a book now, is it?  I am not responsible for this technical malfunction.

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

PS:  The book is "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jenny Lawson, who started as a blogger and has a super popular blog site called "The Bloggess".  I'm inspired to do another blog that is "edgier".  I liked her quirkiness and swearing.   I have a rebel inside me who I try to keep under wraps...maybe she needs to live on the page.  We'll see. :)

OLD FRIENDS AT THE BEACH

Well, I'm home from our annual Kauai hula with the palms.  So incredibly relaxing and just what I needed to reset myself back to: "Let's see if we can start over and not get so stressed about life this time."  Worth a try, and feels doable now, in the afterglow of a nearly perfect vacation.

We were super chill this trip.  We stayed at our timeshare Marriott resort on the ocean, which also boasts the largest pool on Kauai and acres of gardens and walking paths.  It's really beautiful.  And we barely left the property, except to take our morning walks along beachfront trails and extended walking paths that meander in a huge loop around the golf course.   I did some of that walking; Hub did it every day -- about 5 miles at each outing (overachiever that he is).   Other than that we claimed our lounge chairs on the lawn under the palms at the beach and camped out there for several hours each day.  Occasionally we strolled to the pool for a refreshing plunge, then back to the beach.  Hub did a lot of Boogie Boarding and I read a lot of books.  Ten.

When I told a friend that I read ten books in twelve days, she was a little surprised.  I had to quickly explain these were not the Great Russian novels.  They were more like a gathering of old friends, a reunion with bright, funny, inspiring, interesting people, both real and fictional.

I used to be a voracious reader.  I don't know precisely when that fell away, but sometime around peri-menopause and a full time job and corralling teenagers and caring for my ailing mother, I lost my ability to focus long enough to stick with a novel.  I was in a bookclub but after a while I realized I was going for the socializing and the great desserts, rarely even finishing the assigned book.  I was not a very lively contributor to the conversation -- about the book anyway.  Occasionally another woman and I would digress into People magazine reporting and trash TV updates, which was great fun and quite lively.  But that just demonstrates where my brain was at that time.

For the trip I took two paperbacks with me, but didn't want to pack any more than that, so I went on  the public library website to load ebooks onto my Kindle.  I love memoir and essay collections (go figure!) and given how stressed I've been I wanted to find some humor too.  And I'm always up for inspiring "self-help" books.  So here's my list:

NONFICTION
Ageless Body/Timeless Mind -- Deepak Chopra   A classic that's now 20 years old has been on my shelf, unread, for years.  But since I now would like to achieve both of these things, I decided to see what he had to say.  I love the sound of Deepak's voice -- deep and resonant with that lovely accent.  I do the daily meditations that he and Oprah post on online occasionally and I could almost "hear" him talking as I read.  The book is a bit dated, but still I found it inspiring and it helped me shift my perspective and find the peace I was seeking early in the trip.  And it fit with lots of the thinking I've been doing lately about healthy, natural aging.

Orange is the New Black -- Piper Kerman  This is the memoir upon which the hit Netflix show is based.  It's the tale of Piper's youthful flirtation with the drug world and how ten years later (after completely going legit and having a normal, happy, productive life) she is sent to prison for her earlier (relatively minor) involvement in a drug ring.  I watched the show for about half the first season and for some reason it didn't resonate with me then.  But the book is great!  Honest, insightful, sympathetic, terrifying, and quite the indictment of our prison system and over-zealous sentencing laws.  I came away with a new perspective and the urge to lobby for reform.   I'm also going to give the show another try.

Believer: My Forty Years in Politics -- David Alexrod  I'm sort of a political campaign junkie -- all the more so when the candidate is someone I so admire.  That would be Barack Obama.  Or "Almost God" as I like to call him.  David Alexrod was his Communications Director for the campaigns and also for a time in the White House.  Inside stories around public events in recent history are irresistible!  I relived my time growing up near Chicago too.  Alexrod also lived and worked there naming all the "big time" politicians of the day he worked with before he hooked up with Obama and his life took surrealistic spin into national politics.  Fascinating read, even if a little self-serving at times, but hey -- ya gotta have a little bit of ego to do his job.

Small Victories -- Anne Lamott  Oh, Anne, I love you so.  Her essays are so funny, so smart, so true, so inspiring.  I could read her forever and I actually have.  All of her books are on my home bookshelf and I get her regular Facebook post essays too.  Plus, she is my favorite Christian and she could also be my best friend.  We all feel that way.

Dad is Fat -- Jim Gaffigan  I LOVE to laugh out loud.  This book had me in tears of laughter.  I kept apologizing to Hub, next to me on his lounge chair trying to concentrate on the NYT crossword, but he said he loved the sound of my laughter.  Good thing.  This is a funny book by a well-known stand-up comedian about his NYC family life with five young children.  I kept thinking of Son One and his stories of life with his kids.  Son One is really funny too.  I'm getting this book for him for Father's Day.

Live Right and Find Happiness -- Dave Barry  Gaffigan only whetted my appetite for more humor.  I was reminded how much I used to enjoy reading Dave Barry's collections of columns from when he wrote for the Miami Herald.  But he quit that job and I sort of lost track of him.  Rediscovering him in this book, I realized he is remarried with a daughter now 14, and his son (who last I heard was nine years old!) is now grown, married, and has a son.  Oh, Dave, so great to read you again and to find you are still laugh-out-loud funny with your dead-on irony, school-boy silliness, and great big heart.

Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake -- Anna Quindlen  Another favorite from many years ago, Anna Quindlen wrote the story of my life about the "mom years", raising young children, as well as social and political commentary in her NYT column and later in a regular column in Newsweek.  Every word rang true then...and still does in this look at turning 60, her three children now grown, as she looks ahead to the eldering years of her life.  She and Anne Lamott -- my writing and age-mate heroes; wish I could say it as well -- maybe I'll change my name to AnnSomething.

Survival Lessons -- Alice Hoffman  I love, love, love, Alice Hoffman's fiction.  But again, I'd lost track of her when I basically stopped reading fiction and I got caught up with this very slim nonfiction work written shortly after her battle with breast cancer.  It's a series of reminders to appreciate all of life's simple blessings.

FICTION:
The Museum of Extraordinary Things -- Alice Hoffman  Since Alice was on my mind, I found this recent novel and was hooked again on all things Alice.  I love her evocative, slightly weird, a little skewed characters and settings.  This one was full of melancholy and hope -- as most of her books are -- and chock full of magical realism which is a favorite genre.  Loved it.

The Ice Queen -- Alice Hoffman  A strange one; not my favorite, but still interesting with the same bent to the unusual and magical in the lives of everyday folks.   Part prose, part poetry in form with an interesting premise, but characters uncharacteristically underdeveloped, I thought.

I think part of the wonderfulness of this trip was setting aside any real responsibilities, ditching schedules, appointments, meetings, and deadlines.  It was indulging my Introvert with days and days of sweet interaction with only my Hub and no one else other than a passing "hello".  I meditated, walked, read, lounged, ate lots of local fish and fruit, and got re-acquainted with old friends between the pages of books.  Yep, pretty near perfection.

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

TEACH YOUR CHILDREN WELL

Angel's childcare provider up and left for 2-1/2 months to visit her family in Pakistan, so Hub and I volunteered to help out last week until another provider stepped in this week.  It was a week when semi-retired Hub was scheduled to work 3 out of the 5 days -- wouldn't you know it?!

I decided that to keep both Angel and I sane during our 10-hour days together, I would schedule "theme days" with outings each day.

Last Monday was "Art and Nature Day".  Most of the morning was spent with art supplies, primarily focused on Angel's idea to create a Halloween mask.  Hub took over in the afternoon with a "hike" through a local park on wooded trails leading to the playground.  Then, naturally, they went to Costco since Hub can't get in the car without ending up a Costco.  They scored big time, since it was "sample day" and returned with Food Court frozen yogurts for everyone!  Yay!

On Tuesday I was on my own.  "Library Day"!  Angel's first library visit delighted her, starting with the huge aquarium at the entrance to the children's section and finding little Nemo swimming around in the coral.  She was overcome with excitement at the amazing numbers of books and DVD's, kicking off her shoes and settling in for a lengthy perusal.  She played with some toys and the dollhouse,then we retired to the Library Coffee Shop for a hot coco and a mini lemon scone, paging through the books and chatting about art.  We stopped at the park on the way home.

Wednesday was "Girls Go Shopping" day, when we met up with a friend of mine for browsing antiques, gifts, and bookstores in a nearby town.  Angel's favorite store, also my own favorite, had so many wondrous things to touch!!!  And tiny purses that just fit a 4 year old's hands.  I try to not encourage impulse buys, but she did, in the end, walk out with a little purse.  We also stopped for coco and croissants and a joint coloring project as my friend and I talked and colored with Angel for over an hour.

Thursday Hub helped plan a day-long "Public Transportation Day".  We took the bus from the bus/train station to the ferry landing, then hopped on the ferry for the crossing to a nearby island where we spent two hours playing on the beach, building sand castles, collecting seashells and exploring a "cave".  We also stopped at a coffee kiosk for coco and cookies.  Late in the afternoon we took the ferry back to the mainland, had a bite of lunch, watched a guy crabbing off the pier,  then boarded the train for a ride back to the station.

Friday, on my own again, and OK, maybe dragging a bit, I declared it "Halloween Day".  We went shopping for a costume.  I was delighted she wanted to be "Spiderman Girl" and was all set to find a terrific super hero costume for her, but once in the store the fairy princess sparkle took hold and we came home with a winged pink and purple sequined frock.  We stopped at Starbucks for coco and bought a small pumpkin to carve, saving the seeds for roasting, and then made sugar cookies shaped like pumpkins and ghosts, frosting them in orange and white and black.

I think we had a pretty good week.  I do have to wonder if Angel was as exhausted at the end of each day as I was.  Probably not.  Her creativity and imagination seem to power her through each day with constant enthusiasm.  I love being with her.  And I get tired.  Friday night I sort of collapsed in gratitude -- for the time spent together and for her aunt, who would be taking over care this week.

But I think I did a good job teaching her a few new things -- her first trip to the library and her first bus and train rides, how to make a mask, roast pumpkin seeds and make cookies.  And other stuff too I'm sure; things that kids just absorb with no effort or recognition by the adults around them.

Most importantly, though, I taught her that no day is complete without a brief respite over coffee, coco, and a sweet treat, best enjoyed with a good friend.  And since she has declared me her "best friend", I look forward to many more cups and conversations in the years to come.  This Gramma thing is awesome.

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

MURDER AND MAYHEM AT THE MARRIOTT

James Patterson, John Grisholm, Robert North Patterson, Sue Grafton, J.D. Robb, Lee Child....  Poolside reading of the mindless, page-turner variety, seems to lean toward murder and mayhem.  I have to include myself in this cohort -- I've been following the escapades of Jack Reacher and Eve Dallas myself.  (I should include Nicholas Sparks here, being read by one young woman who apparently enjoys the "murder of the novel" genre.)

But the greatest mystery to be solved is what is going on in the dark digital world of all those Kindles, I-Pads, and Smartphones!  It took several days of floating around the pool spying on the readers in lounge chairs to come up with the list above, which were actually few and far between.  Mostly I see people holding E-readers of various brand.  I have no idea what they are reading!  And that totally screws up the survey I have taken each year to determine "most popular" pop-literature.

Not long ago it was easy to see what was at the top of the paperback best seller list, because the majority of the poolside community were reading the same book!  The last time I found consensus was in the "Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" days.  Those bright yellow book covers were blinding in the Kaua'i sunshine!  Now we are all hiding in the digital world and who knows what's going on in there????  I hate to speculate...

The other "downside"of the digital reader age is the dearth of used paperbacks in the resort lending library.  We readers used to power through a stack of books on our trip, then leave them behind for others to enjoy.  No more.  I checked out the library the first day here and found a paltry selection of about 20 books, most of them titles no one has ever heard of, along with a couple of Harlequin romances, and a few religious tracts.  Humph!

I mourn the passing of vacations past, of holding a book in my hands, turning its pages, perhaps getting it a little waterlogged and then back home finding some sand in the seams along with memories of those windswept days of reading on the beaches of Hawaii.  I walk past my bookcases at home and the mere sight of some of those spines takes me back to another time in my life, remembering where (and who) I was when I read that book....

But I confess:  I now tote around an I-Pad and mostly download e-books from the library.  I no longer turn a page, I tap it.  I set the font for "large" and eye strain is relieved.  Instead of a suitcase full of bulky books, I have one device where I have thousands of books available at any given moment.  Yep, it's convenient.  And a little sad.

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

IF I'M HERE...CAN I ALSO BE THERE?

Here's a question I never thought to ask myself:  "When you are traveling, is it OK to read for pleasure?"  Like, wow.  When I am traveling, it never occurs to me NOT to read, for pleasure or any other reason.  Like a tourist brochure, local newspaper, or menu.  Whatever.  But most especially a novel or memoir or the latest non-fiction "fix me" tome.

But I get what my friend meant when she posed this question to herself and struggled with the answer.  And decided to survey her friends.  Those of us who are avid readers never leave home without a book in our bag, our car, or clutched in our hand.  For me a book is a lifeline, a safety blanket, a friend.  I sort of panic when I don't have something to read at the ready.  But she wondered if we are truly present on our travels, truly taking in all that surrounds us, when we are simultaneously (or intermittently) transported elsewhere inside the pages of a book.  Are we cheating ourselves of the full experience of our trip when we mentally escape into other settings as we read?

So, I thought about this question on my recent trip to Hawai'i.  I read 9 books and a few magazines and the occasional newspaper.  I should point out, these are not difficult reads.  These are beach reads, right?  Easy, breezy, fun, interesting, perhaps thought-provoking or poignant, but not rocket science.  For quite some time I've been enamored of memoir.  I LOVE to read about real people and what happened to them, what they learned; to discover if they are funny or insightful; hear about where they went and what they did there....it's probably the voyeur in me.  Or the part of me who lives vicariously through the exploits of others doing those things I could never imagine (or want to do) in my own life.

I'm also really drawn to humor.  Clever, ironic humor.  I'm a sucker for dry wit, for shining a light on absurdity, for looking askew at those characters, places, and events that make us scratch our heads in wonder.  And then laugh.

So, here's the reading list from my recent trip:

Rebel Buddha -- Dzogchen Ponlop  (Tibet, US)
     Non-fiction exploration of Western Buddhism (great book!)
Unfamiliar Fishes -- Sarah Vowell  (Hawai'i)
     Fascinating history of Hawai'i plus Sarah Vowell is really funny!
Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim -- David Sedaris  (North Carolina)
     One of my favorite humor writers; laugh out loud funny.
Among Flowers - Jamaica Kincaid  (Nepal)
     A trek through Nepal to find indigenous seeds for planting back home.  Did not like this book (the writing was uneven, the author's attitude smacked of colonialism), but the descriptions of the trek were sort of interesting, if sketchy.  I did learn she gets up to pee outside the tent nightly--a recurring scene.
The Wordy Shipmates -- Sarah Vowell  (Massachusetts)
     Loved Unfamiliar Fishes so much, I went back for more Sarah and this history of the Puritans in Massachusetts.  Very entertaining history.  More Sarah!  More Sarah!  Her history books should be read in high school classes!
Sh*t My Dad Says -- Justin Halpern (San Diego)
     A sweet homage to a gruff and loving father -- from his very funny son.
Kitchen Confidential -- Anthony Bourdain  (New York)
     The book that started Bad Boy Bourdain on the road to infamy on No Reservations.  He's a jerk and I love him.  Plus who can resist a 'behind the scenes' look at restaurants and the cooking life therein?  (Don't order fish on Mondays...or eat almost anything on a Sunday Brunch buffet table).
Wild -- Cheryl Strayed  (The Pacific Crest Trail wilderness)
     She's young, irresponsible, flirting with drug addiction and decides with no forethought at all to hike the Pacific Crest Trail from Southern California to Washington.  She learns a lot.  I ended up liking her.
The Beginner's Goodbye -- Anne Tyler  (Baltimore)
     One of my favorite novelists takes on love, grief, and moving on in this story of a physically challenged man who lives fully in his heart ... and body.
The Wolf Gift -- Anne Rice  (a wolf den somewhere perhaps)
    I started this, but quit it.  I do like Anne Rice's crazy gothic/modern vampires and witches and this one I think is about werewolves, but the plane landed before I really cared about where she was going with the story.  Maybe some other time....

So.  Book reviews aside, it's obvious that while I was in Hawai'i I was also in Tibet, Nepal, Massachusetts, New York, San Diego, Raleigh, Baltimore.  Only one book I read was actually set in Hawai'i.  So, while I was on the beach of Kaua'i, I was also in all these other places.  Still, I relished the unhurried, lazy days of diving deeply into books I enjoyed -- letting the story, the setting, the author take me on a pleasure cruise while the palms swayed overhead and the waves lapped at the shoreline.

Is that OK?  Well, I think so.

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