PALETTES AND PATTERNS

The time change last weekend means it is dark here at 5:00.  In a few weeks it will be mostly dark by 4:30 (and barely light in the morning by 8!)  I just ordered two new Peter Pauper Press - Studio Series ("for colorists of all ages") coloring books, which sort of elevates the whole "coloring" idea in my judgement.  I also have a new set of my favorite brush tip watercolor markers.  I'm ready.  I alternate between coloring and crocheting this time of year while I watch TV in the long winter evenings.  And that, my friends, is how I can tell I have become my mother.  The adult coloring book craze didn't exist then, but she did knit or crochet at night and I thought "What a boring life! I'll never waste my time like that!"  Hmmm....

I've come to realize that any creative outlet that is enjoyable and relaxing is not a waste of time -- or of a life.   She sewed, knitted, crocheted, embroidered, painted landscapes, wrote family histories and short stories, drew the plans for the building of my teenager years home (her dream house in 1966), went to school and opened her own business -- a beauty shop in our home -- at age 43, and did all the traditional "housewife" stuff that a woman did in her adult life in the 1940's, 50's, 60's, 70's, and beyond.  She took great pride in "keeping house" while caring for our family.

If I possessed half her creative talents and had half her energy, I'd be happy.  My life is more of the contemplative, personal growth, activist, and spiritual quest variety.  My nod to traditional creative pursuits lies only in writing, crocheting (only blankets and scarves -- nothing that has to actually fit anyone!) and coloring (within the lines someone else has drawn, in low light conditions, maybe without my reading glasses.)  I've painted a few little watercolors that I like and many more that ended in the recycling bin.  I like to take photographs but don't like the technical aspects of "real" photography.  I keep thinking "maybe someday I'll do something with all those photos".  Maybe.  Someday.

As I settle in to the dark season my thoughts turn to settling into the Autumn of my life as well.  I like to tell my doctors I fully expect to live another 30 or more years.  Yet I know that would be beating the odds a bit.  My plan is to do all I can within my power to keep myself healthy, but there is so much that is out of our control that my other plan is to make peace with whatever comes that I will never foresee.

And I know that 30 years is not that long.  I've already seen projections of projects and plans around various political aspirations and community planning ideas that are that far out and more.  I realize these are plans for others, not for me.  I won't be here to see them come to fruition.  I've reached that stage in life when I both mourn that reality and pray for all these wonderful things to become manifest for my children and their children.  All I can do is do what I can now to help further those goals for future generations.  I find some peace in that.

I don't mean to sound maudlin here.  I'm not really.  I'm just finding myself in a place of contemplation and acceptance.  I don't mind a bit slowing my pace, sorting out priorities, making a meaningful life in connection with others, prioritizing home and family and contentment.

I'll still take to the streets and bug my representatives and practice yoga and hang out with my grandkids and travel a bit....

But I'll also leave ample time for color books and crochet projects -- choosing palettes and patterns that speak to me, that a provide a fleeting bright spot of beauty as darkness engulfs for a time, before the return of the light and the cycle begins anew.

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

WHAT DO YOU DO TO KEEP BUSY?

I'm on a mission.  I feel I need to figure out once and for all what the hell I do with my time...my life.

Hub and I had dinner the other night with folks we don't see too often, so of course I was asked, "What have you been up to?  What do you do to keep busy?"  This woman is recently retired and working to find a new rhythm and purpose to her life, so naturally she is wondering what people do with their days when they are not in the paid workforce.  For some reason I never wondered that.  I always felt like I had about ten times as much "to do" than there were hours in the day when I was working for money, so when I retired I felt liberated, not lost.  But it's a valid question nonetheless.  What do I do?

Actually, when she asked me this, my mind went almost blank. What DO I do?  I stammered out that I go to Yoga two-three times a week.  I write my two blogs.  I watch our little granddaughter two days a week.  That's all I came up with.  Weird.  Because every day whizzes by and I guess I don't have much to show for it.  Not much "accomplished".  No one thing that summarizes my everyday life.

I love my time with friends -- lunches, breakfasts, coffee dates, art museums, craft fairs, movies, and marches.

I love scrolling through Facebook -- the introvert's favorite social connection to those near and far.

I read online articles and commentaries and blogs in a variety of publications.  I have new glasses now so I can go back to reading actual books and magazines.

I watch TV with Hub at night.  A lot.  Done apologizing for this.  Love it.

I take a shower now and then.

I clean my own house, although I'm about to ditch that because it's tedious and one of my friends has a great housecleaner I plan to contact.

I host our family for dinner once/week, but Hub does the cooking, so not sure that counts.

I do laundry, but how hard is that?  It's not like I'm beating my jeans against a rock.

Hub does the grocery shopping, but I do all the gift shopping when gifts are needed, which isn't that often, but still.

I go to occasional classes and workshops.

My doctor tells me I have to do more aerobic exercise, so that's popping up to the top of the list, along with the regular yoga I mentioned.

I balance our accounts, pay all our bills, and keep a spreadsheet of our expenses.  That takes a few hours twice a month; could be less if I didn't have a math disability and number dyslexia.

I volunteer for a few hours at my old job monthly and in my granddaughter's classroom weekly.  I crochet baby blankets for a social service program that provides layette supplies for moms-in-need.  And of course there is my two days/week of Granny Nannying, chasing a two-year-old around.

I plant stuff in the garden and stand and watch for it to either die or grow.  I mostly insist it all thrive on benign neglect.

Sometimes I wander around the house visiting all my years-long-in-residence house plants, as if they are old friends, and being amazed at how healthy and happy they are; this now seems like a weird thing to do and to admit.

I am also currently trying to save the Republic from ruin, so all those phone calls and letters and rumination (mostly rumination) take time.

I don't know what the hell I do.  Certainly not anything that can be summarized in a simple declarative sentence.

And maybe that's the beauty of retirement that she will discover.  You don't have to "do" anything!  You just have to "be" in the world  -- alive, curious, open.  You can say "yes" or you can say "no".  Your life becomes one you can control and create, if you have the health and means to be the master of  your own fate in whatever way that manifests.   She will find there is plenty to "do" and even better, hopefully, will learn the art of how to "be".

What do I do to keep busy?  I stay alive.  I live.  I just am.  It all unfolds and I watch with wonder at how my life and choices shift with the changing tides of need and opportunity.  And I realize how content I can be with long days of doing absolutely nothing of consequence.

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

STEPPING BACK

Oh me, Oh my.  I do not like conflict.  But sometimes it's unavoidable and then I'm not afraid to face it head on.  It takes me awhile and I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, then I just get to a point where I feel I've done all I can do and have nothing to lose by falling into the fray.  I feel both liberation and loss when that happens.  Because I know for me something's gotta change.

I love my Unitarian Universalist church, but it hasn't felt very church-y to me for awhile.  I've been in some form of leadership position there for a very long time, active and visible and trying to help create a growing, thriving, welcoming place of personal refuge, spiritual growth, and targeted activism.  My focus has been on organizational structure and transition over the past few years.  There is a joke amongst UUs that trying to move that group in one direction is like herding cats.  We are an independent, anti-authoritarian crowd who rely on the democratic process in decision-making, but are not above a good protest when outcomes don't agree with our way of thinking.

I feel like we've had one controversy after another over the past couple of years and we are currently embroiled in a brouhaha that is slipping into way, way too much of my personal life.  Its tentacles are reaching beyond the actual "issue" and now even the response to the original issue is becoming the problem.  People are choosing up sides and I can't take it anymore.  Well, I don't want to.

A couple of weeks ago, when all of this sort of came to a head for me, I was visiting friends at their new beach house and one evening our conversation centered around our spiritual practices and what we want in a spiritual home.  It revealed to me that most of my actual spiritual practices have little to do with Sunday morning worship.  Meditation, yoga, writing, and my current addiction to the Outlander book series (HAHA) don't happen in the confines of my church.  It gave me pause.

Then, the following night we explored this statement: "If you don't know where you want to be in five years, you are already there", meaning, of course, that without a goal/plan/dream, nothing will change.

We each talked about our personal goals for the near future, which led us to realizing that if we are not already living toward that goal, living already each day in service to our dream, we are missing the mark.  No magic wand will wave and put us in our own personal Nirvana in five years' time.  I won't magically be in terrific cardiac health in five years if I don't get on the treadmill today.   Whatever the goal, it starts now.

We talked about what actions and activities touch our "essence" -- those moments when we are what is called, "in the flow", when chronological time seems to disappear and we enter "soul time", lost in pure joy and spirit.  For some it happens when listening to, singing or playing music, for others when painting, or gardening, or running, or hiking.  For me, again, I am lost in my Yoga practice, meditation, and writing; also when gathered in fun and laughter with close friends and family, and I would add lately when doing crafts with my granddaughter.  No church building or committee or controversy over policies, politics, or personalities required.

This past week I resigned from an important leadership group at my church and have declared I will not accept any leadership position in the foreseeable future beyond continuing to facilitate the WISE  group for women over 60 years old, which I've done for five years.  This is not a tantrum.  I'm not party to or personally involved in the current controversy.  I have an opinion, but it's not public.  It's just that in my capacity of leadership I was being drawn into the quagmire, losing sleep, dealing with side issues and seeing some people I have admired and some I have called friends behaving with surprisingly questionable wisdom and appallingly questionable outrage.

Going back to the beach house conversations, it was clear that this church stuff was dramatically impacting my ability to have opportunities to be "in the flow" -- to make choices about how to spend my time and energy, touching my essence.   In five years' time I'll be nearly 70 years old.  I know how fast five years flies by; how fast a lifetime flies by.

I recalled Mary Oliver's brilliant poem, "The Summer Day" and its stunning closing words:
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


I thought about my "one wild and precious life" and how much of it I've spent fulfilling commitments.  I took my concerns about "bailing on my commitment" at church into meditation; some would call it prayer.  My decision became crystal clear:  I will waste not one more sleepless night on policies and procedures, conflict and controversy not of my own making or of my personal responsibility.  I love my church; I love my community there.  But my sense of personal integrity around honoring a commitment I made to be on that committee felt like a burden -- and an obstacle to following my heart.  I was out of integrity with myself and if I didn't stop this pattern, nothing would be different in five years' time.


Stepping back is not stepping out, but it is stepping into a new way of being with a church and a community that has been central to my life for 23 years.  Liberation and loss.  Yes, that about sums it up on this sunny Sunday morning as I sit at my writing desk...in the flow, if not in the pew.

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

TIME FLIES AND IT'S THANKSGIVING

Hoo-Boy.  I'm suffering a pretty good case of writer's block this month!  I can't believe I haven't written even one blog post until now.  But in fairness to me, I think I've fallen into a Black Hole where time is running at a pace much accelerated than is typical.  (Does that happen in Black Holes?  I don't really have the science down on that, but you get my drift.)  How in the world did it get to be November 19th?  And what happened to October?   At breakfast with a BFF yesterday we agreed that the days seem to fly by in some strange otherworld zone where it's even hard to recall what we did from day to day.  I noticed this happening more and more after I retired just over 4 years ago -- there were no real "markers" for the passing days -- they all sort of look alike in that I get to plan and organize them at my own pace and with activities of my own choosing.  But my friend still works and even she is having trouble hanging on to a sense of order and any ability to "slow" things down enough to understand that a new month is over half gone.  I feel like I'm in a Time Machine traveling at warp speed.

So, anyway, looking at my calendar, I see that (Wow! Already!)  next week is Thanksgiving.  We had our weekly family dinner last night and DIL offered to bring her fabulous homemade pies again this year -- salted carmel apple and pumpkin cheesecake.  I so appreciate that -- one less thing to buy at Costco.  (What?  Me bake???  Nah….)

I'm really a hopeless cook.  I've probably written about this before, but every Thanksgiving I'm reminded how stressful cooking is for me.  Of course everyone knows this by now and to avoid my meltdowns (there have even been tears!) for several years I've had lots of help -- well, let's be honest.  I'm not sure anyone is "helping" me anymore, since so many parts of the meal have been taken on by others.  Typically Hub does the turkey and gravy; Son-Two does the mashed potatoes; I do the stuffing and candied yams and cranberry/orange sauce; someone gets some veggies going (green bean casserole and/or brussel sprouts); I get the rolls in the oven.  Everyone helps dish things up and carry food to the table.  Somehow it all gets done pretty much on time and we sit to eat together in gratitude for my mom -- from whose recipes the entire meal emanates.

I think about my mom every year.  She didn't like cooking either, yet every Thanksgiving or Christmas (she and her sister traded hosting the holidays) she would shop, prep, and cook the entire extravaganza all by herself.  No one pitched in.  She didn't ask for (or demand) any help, seeing it as her job.  And it was all finished on time, all hot to the table, all served on her "good" china on a beautifully set table.  I'm sort of in awe of that.  That's a true talent, if you ask me.

Living so far from our extended families, for years our Thanksgiving was just the four of us -- Hub, me and our kids.  Then Son-One started to bring his girlfriend and her daughter, who his now our lovely DIL and our little Angel.  Next year we will have a new family member when our new granddaughter will be at the table in her high chair.   I like the tradition of family gathering for Thanksgiving.  I love the tradition of everyone helping with the meal.

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

TIME IS ON MY SIDE

People often say time seems to speed up as they age.  Days, weeks, months, and years seem to fly by.  When asked about certain specific events, people often believe they happened much more recently than they really did: "Oh no...can it be that long ago already?"  It's a strange phenomenon.  It's a perception, since time itself is pretty reliable in its stability.

(OK, all you quantum physicists out there...you win, with whatever argument you want to throw at that statement, because while I find your analyses and theories utterly fascinating, they are beyond my ability to truly comprehend.  I love the Science Channel series "Through the Wormhole" mostly for the amazing topics that I always think I will understand, but ultimately don't.  It also has some great photography.  And the sound of Morgan Freeman's voice, who could convince me of anything, is so soothing.  Also I love the idea that there are so many people who have brains wired to sit around for their entire adult lives writing long and complicated math equations in note pads and find this a fun and rewarding career.  What????  I would like a TV series to explain that to me and tell me why I didn't get one of those brains.)

So, this perception about time has one theory that the younger we are the more novel our experiences (so many "firsts") and that we focus on them in ways that later we gloss over because so much has become familiar, mundane, routine.  The "big" moments are fewer and farther between, so they seem like they happened "only yesterday".  Naturally other theorists are now poking holes in that notion.

I don't know what the answer is.  I just know that the perception that "time flies" seems to be true for me.  And if it has to do with that novel experience idea, then I say do more of that!  Yet I realize that I have lately begun to want to do less.  In recent months I have become a seeker of comfort, ease, and familiarity.  So this does not bode well for  experiencing novelty.  Does that mean my days are flying by with nothing to hang on to and no memories to anchor me in time?

Or is there another way to experience "novelty", even in the mundane?

In recent months I've also begun a meditation practice that is based on "mindfulness".  I am a novice and I fail more often than not, but the idea is to be "mindful"-- fully present, in each moment.  Washing dishes becomes an experience of feeling the water, the temperature of the water, the way it flows around the dishes, runs over my hands, noticing the suds light and airy floating across the water's surface, white and translucent, the heft of the bright red bowl in my hand....you get the idea.  It's a much different experience than just rushing through the task. I'm not standing there with a dreamy look on my face loving every dish-washing moment, but I'm trying to be "present" with the task, not a million miles away with thoughts racing in various directions while I mindlessly get through it to get on to the next thing.

Maybe mindfulness creates novelty, each experience "new", each day, week, month, and year anchored in meaningful experience.  Because it's every minute of every day that make up a life.  It's not all noticably different, but it can be all "new" if we are paying attention.  This is the only life I have right now; I want to savor it and not let it slip away to that time when I will awaken to the realization that it's already over...and went by so quickly.

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