Fling off thy sadness
No leaves yet, but the skies are blue and the trees are budding! March 2013
Awake, thou wintry earth –
Fling off thy sadness!
Fair vernal flowers, laugh forth
Your ancient gladness! — Thomas Blackburn
As I write this, I keep glancing out my glass doors, and I see there is still snow on the ground. But the sun is shining brightly, and the snow is melting, slowly but surely. It was raining and gloomy when I got up this morning, but the weather has turned around rather dramatically. I hope to take a walk this afternoon.
The days are getting noticeably longer. I haven’t had to use the flashlight I carry in my pocket for some time now. In fact, it was so light outside when I got back from walking yesterday that I kept wondering what happened; had I left earlier than usual? Did I somehow walk faster or shorten my walk without knowing it? No, it’s just lighter now. Spring really is coming.
After this winter, which has been long and hard but also full of cozy warmth and love, I am especially eager for spring. I am guessing many of you probably are too. Today, I hope you see signs of it to lift your spirits. Whether it’s a budding tree, the first shoots of daffodils or crocus, or some glorious late-afternoon sunshine, I hope you can see evidence that the earth is laughing off its sadness, ready to celebrate.
One year ago today:
Anything created
This is about the most normal-looking spot you’ll find in Park Güell,
but it’s a good representation of how beautiful a place it is. May 2008
“Anything created by human beings is already in the great book of nature.”
— Antoni Gaudi
One year ago today I published a post that is one of my favorites, because it includes a link to a delightful PBS re-mix featuring Fred Rogers. It’s all about how “you can grow ideas in the garden of your mind.” When I went back to that post, I was reminded of Antoni Gaudi, whose mind must have been one of the most strangely fantastic gardens of all time.
I had never heard of Gaudi until we visited Barcelona, but seeing his work at various places in that city was an unforgettable experience. In fact, our time at Park Güell stands out in my mind as one of the most wonderful memories in the two-week trip of a lifetime. I’m not the first person who thinks immediately of Dr. Seuss when seeing Gaudi’s eccentric buildings; the similarities are fairly obvious. Scholars have suggested that Gaudi was almost certainly an influence in Theodor Geisel’s whimiscal fantasy illustrations.
Imagine my surprise, then, to find that Gaudi was a devout ascetic who wanted to parallel divine creation by following natural law. He apparently thought of his creations as being based on earthly landscapes, where he perceived only curved lines. I suppose it makes sense from that standpoint, but a quick visual review of the beautifully odd works he created might give you an idea why I see his architecture as the most otherworldly constructions I’ve come across. And their vibrant colors and elaborate designs are not remotely suggestive of the spare, abstemious existence he embraced in his personal life.
Very few professional artists, let alone amateurs, can hope to leave the sort of unique fingerprint Gaudi achieved, but that’s probably a good thing. Regardless, we can be inspired by his singular vision, and cultivate our own gardens of ideas with which we can decorate our lives and our personal corners in the world.
Do you agree with Gaudi that all art (even his own whimsical work) has its source in nature? What do you think of his creations?
One year ago today
Visual surprise
Photographed in early March 2010, sunny Grenada was a sight for sore eyes!
“Visual surprise is natural in the Caribbean; it comes with the landscape, and faced with its beauty, the sigh of History dissolves.” — Derek Walcott
There’s nothing like a good dose of the Caribbean to warm and brighten the dullest March. There are places more elegant, more prestigious, more affluent or trendy, but I’ve never been anywhere that was quite as good at making me feel welcome, relaxed and carefree.
Part of the vibe comes from the colors, which are everywhere. The tropical flowers and birds would be enough, but islanders add splashes of vibrant hue in their buildings and even their roofs. And then, of course, there’s that incomparable Caribbean blue; warm saltwater of a color palette not quite duplicated anywhere else, even in Hawaii.
I don’t know about you, but for me, this is the time of year when I could use a little visual surprise here and there. I did a quick Google search using the term “Colors of the Caribbean” and then clicked on “images.” I came up with this collection of island brights. Scroll through them quickly and let me know if you can hear Calypso music playing in your head!
One year ago today:
When we sip tea
Just a few of the tins from my ELC* as of February 2014 —
when it comes to tea, even the containers are delightful!
“When we sip tea, we are on our way to serenity.” — Alexandra Stoddard
With all the bad weather this winter has brought us, it’s definitely tea time. So I couldn’t resist repeating my offer from one year ago today (which you can read about at the link below). Anyone who would like me to send them a tea bag or two from my *embarrassingly large collection, just send me your address in the comments (which I will NOT publish online – I’ll delete the address from the rest of your comment). Be sure to let me know what types you prefer – black, green, white, herbal, fruit, caffeine, decaf, etc. — I probably have something to fit most every taste.
And a special thanks to the many blog readers who have sent me tea over the past year. I’ve been the recipient of unique teas from some fairly exotic places – Alaska, Hawaii, even Prince Edward Island (home of Anne of Green Gables, a special tea made in her honor) as well as some delicious traditional flavors. I feel as if I’ve been having a virtual tea party with so many of you all year long! So let’s raise a cup to the end of this unusually harsh North American winter — whenever that will be — and keep warm inside while we wait for the outside to catch up.
Here’s to serenity!
One year ago today:
As the magnet finds iron
Inconvenient, even dangerous, but also beautiful; a December 2004 snowstorm.
“The unthankful heart… discovers no mercies; but let the thankful heart sweep through the day and, as the magnet finds the iron, so it will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings!” — Henry Ward Beecher
As I write this, two weeks before publication, much of the country is in the grip of yet another fierce winter storm. This is especially difficult for those in the south, where such weather is far from typical.
Hundreds of thousands of people (including my parents) are without power. I worry about them, and about people who have emergencies that require them to be on the road in dangerous conditions. I am dismayed to think of the storm-related deaths that likely will be reported by the news. I feel sympathy for stranded travelers whose flights are cancelled or delayed. I hate to think about the inevitable financial fallout associated with such weather, as work schedules are curtailed for those on hourly pay, and heating expenses rise.
Yet, as always, there is much to be thankful for. This morning we saw our neighbor (who knows Jeff is fighting cancer) shoveling the snow outside our home, giving valuable help without waiting to be asked. I know there are countless others who are acting as Good Samaritans in these adverse circumstances, helping friends, neighbors or strangers with no thought of getting anything in return.
I’m thankful that my brother Al is there with Mom and Dad, available to help with tasks they are unable to do. I’m thankful for the competence and dedication of emergency professionals such as Michael’s son in Atlanta, who are on call to respond when needed. I’m thankful that Jeff was taught how to disconnect his chemo IV from his port here at home, making a long risky trip to Bethesda unnecessary, enabling him to be here at home with us today, safe and sound.
By the time this post is published, I hope that most of the country will be nearing the end of this exceptionally rough winter. But those in regions farther north still have many weeks of cold weather to get through before spring arrives. Whether you are bracing for more storms, or seeing the first hopeful signs of winter’s end, I hope your heart can sweep through the day today and find heavenly blessings that will bring you hope and joy!
One year ago today:
Something wonderful
An unknown path need not be fearful. The Blue Ridge Mountains, Virginia, November 2011
“I had begun to feel that the days that stretched out in front of me were a dark, terrifying wilderness. As I wrote about moments along the way, everything looked more friendly, and I discovered that the days are only days. I received and gave love as I untangled my thoughts through the act of writing, and discovered something wonderful. Truly, life was funny, surprising, and beautiful. I told myself the truth, again and again, and I began to believe it.”— Rachel Devenish Ford
In her book Trees Tall as Mountains, taken from the early years of her blog Journey Mama, Rachel Devenish Ford writes of a life that is so different from mine as to seem exotic, yet also familiar enough that reading her work feels like chatting with a good friend.
Juggling the challenges of caring for young children while pursuing her own creative and unique path with her “superstar husband” (an affectionate nickname I appreciate in the contemporary climate of too many snarky spousal put-downs), Ford experiences many of the conflicts and anxieties that face me and, I imagine, many others all over the world. Yet she returns again and again to an insistent optimism that enables her to press on through her most difficult days.
I think many of us who blog have made the same discovery Ford describes: things have begun to look more friendly, more funny and surprising and beautiful. The interactive nature of blogging has enabled readers and writers to enjoy the company of like-minded people from a wide variety of places, making the world feel a bit like a very large neighborhood full of potential friends.
Depressed or distressed thinking can take on a frightening authority, convincing us that things are far worse than they really are. If we talk back to our despair, telling it the truth “again and again,” we will break through the barriers created by unreasonable fear, and open our eyes to a multitude of blessings within our reach.
The next time you are feeling stressed, frustrated or sad, I hope you will find ways to tell yourself the truth about life. It’s a gift and a privilege to cherish, even though its beauty is sometimes hidden.
One year ago today:
Filled with joy
Without a word, flowers instruct our hearts and lift our spirits with evidence of divine grace.
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could do the same?
“One filled with joy preaches without preaching.” ― Mother Teresa
So often, words are painful without being beneficial. Most of us who say harmful things aren’t deliberately trying to hurt anyone, but we end up doing it anyway. We may be trying to help someone else by pointing out where we believe the person is mistaken or wrong, but this almost always backfires, leaving everybody feeling worse.
I can think of many times when I’ve hurt people I love, or when people I love have hurt me, by saying things that were meant to help, but only ended up wounding. What was intended to make a situation better only made it worse for all involved. The best lessons don’t come from words, but examples. This doesn’t mean we should not communicate through words, but it does suggest that we should be careful how we do it, and realize that conduct, not speech, leaves a more lasting impression.
Thinking about Mother Teresa’s quote, I realized it encourages us to focus on improving our own hearts and our own thinking. If we do that, our actions will shine brightly and we won’t need to worry about correcting others with verbal instruction or criticism.
One of the most needed things we can do in this world is to radiate joy. I’m not talking about a giddy insensitivity to the sorrow others may be feeling, but a steadfast inner peace that holds out hope even when things are not going well. If we can show others through our own lives that it’s possible to choose joy in all circumstances, it will be more a powerful influence than thousands of words of advice.
What are some ways that we can “preach without preaching” by being filled with joy?
One year ago today:
Made for kids
Drew loved baseball from a very early age…with his Daddy’s influence, of course!
Sometime in 1986, Huber Heights, Ohio.
“Baseball was made for kids, and grown-ups only screw it up.” — Bob Lemon
Those of us who admire the complexity of baseball — or maybe only imagine that we do — might think Lemon has oversimplified things with this statement. But he has far more authority on the subject than I do, and in many ways, I think he’s right about grown-up ambitions and agendas messing with something nearly flawless in its purest form.
One doesn’t have to be adult or sophisticated to get enough of a grasp of the game to enjoy watching or playing it. And even those who live in the endless universe of baseball statistics might admit that the most appealing aspects of the game are still the most basic. A team sport where each player’s individuality is highlighted and accentuated; a game with a predictable but theoretically unlimited structure; a brilliant excuse to get outdoors as soon as the weather allows, and stay out until the cold returns.
What better gifts to give our children? Or for that matter, ourselves?
One year ago today:
Beauty without color
Inside Norfolk International Airport, Virginia, January 2014
“Beauty without color seems somehow to belong to another world.”
— Murasaki Shikibu
Walking through the Norfolk airport recently, I looked to my left and saw the scene pictured above. Though most of the snow had melted, I thought at first it was a tree that was somehow still covered in snow. However, on looking more closely, I saw it was only the natural color of the tree itself. It was so striking, I had to stop and take a photo. I hope the couple in the photo realized the tree, not they, prompted my curiosity!
When I saw Shikibu’s quote, I realized why the winter landscapes can be so arresting. I doubt that any of us will regret to see the spring that will be coming soon, but I must admit I have rather enjoyed the beautiful aspects of a winter with so much snow.
If you’ve been able to take any photos in the snow, this year or any time, feel free to send them along (or post links to them online) and share the otherworldly beauty of the winter that has now almost passed. Here’s a lovely photo taken by my nephew Andy, a gifted photographer, who captured this snow scene in northern Alabama just ten days ago.
One year ago today:
The true magic carpet
With a little help from Disney, Drew and Matt take an imaginary trip to Morocco.
EPCOT Center, Orlando, Florida, August 2003
“Imagination is the true magic carpet.” — Norman Vincent Peale
Even when we aren’t free to travel because of health, finances or responsibilities, our minds are always free. And now, with the entire world available literally at our fingertips, through words, photos, music and videos, our minds have even more fuel for our imaginary journeys.
If you’re reading this, you are looking at a computer or mobile device with internet access. Quick — where would you most like to go right now? What place on earth would you travel if you could be there instantly? Do an online search, and click on “images” or “videos” or even “music” in the search results. Almost anyplace you can think of in the entire world will have at least a few photos available to bring that faraway place within the reach of your thoughts for a five-minute vacation.
I realize there are elaborate scientific explanations as to how all this is possible. I know it’s all zeroes and ones, and we have engineers to thank. I know all that. But I still think it’s magical.
Have an enchanted day – and send a few photos of your make-believe travels!
One year ago today:
Until I write
A surprise in the mail from Boomdeeville is a beautifully reassuring reminder
that what is unique and memorable can very seldom be rushed. January, 2014
“I cannot see what I have gone through until I write it down. I am blind without a pencil…But it does seem a slow and wasteful process. (Like walking, tapping with a cane.)…There is so much waste in creativity, always. But there is something curious about creativity: the trying-too-hard for results seems to defeat itself.”
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Sometimes when I look at all my husband and others like him have accomplished, I feel woefully inadequate, tapping away at my keyboard, addicted to reading and writing as I have been for as long as I can remember. I often feel guilty for not producing anything more substantive, even though I have never had to rely upon it as a source of income.
Yet, as Lindbergh attests, there is no such thing as forcing results when it comes to creativity, no matter what form it takes. Because I tend to think and talk rapidly, it took me years to realize how much more slowly I work compared to most people I know. In crafts, in photography, even in cooking and household tasks, I find that I’m unable to function well under time pressure. I can get things done, but there is no satisfaction in anything I have rushed through.
For me, it’s much more rewarding to complete something slowly and thoughtfully, not in a perfectionist, nit-picking way (an easy trap to slide into when time allows it), but in an attentive, relaxed state of mind. Given the rushed nature of modern life, it’s easy to become impatient and see a relaxed pace as a waste of time. In reality, though, perhaps haste really does make waste. Even if the end result of rushed work is satisfactory, there may be collateral damage to our moods, our relationships or the flow of our day.
Next time you feel impatient with yourself for “wasting” time, think about what you are doing, and how you feel about it. Is it really less wasteful to spend thirty minutes on unhappy, pressured and self-imposed stress, rather than spending the hour it might take to actually enjoy what we are doing? Wouldn’t our time be better invested in savoring the pleasant details of our lives, focusing on the quality of what we do rather than quantity?
Admittedly, leisure is not always possible. But it might be a worthy goal to give ourselves periods of time when we are off the clock, free to go at a natural pace, focusing on the process more than the product. I have a sneaky suspicion that even the mundane details of work would be more interesting if our minds were not in a hurry to move on to something else.
What activities are more enjoyable to you when not rushed?
One year ago today:
Every stretch of road
Every stretch of road has meaning…even this one near Delle, Utah, August 2004.
“A route differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another…A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop.”
– Milan Kundera
With only a week to drive from the west coast to the east, there was very little to tempt us to visit places such as Delle, Utah when we moved from California to Virginia in August 2004. The heat alone was enough to dissuade us from stopping. However, I agree with Kundera that every stretch of road has its own meaning. And who knows what we may have missed by driving quickly through?
In reality, life is simply too short, and the demands of living too intense, to allow us to explore every stretch of road we travel. Through sheer necessity, we will use them as routes more far often than we will be able to wander along them as pathways.
But once in awhile, life throws us a curve ball and we get stuck in a place we didn’t intend to stay. Whether it’s a car breakdown that grounds us for a few hours, extreme weather that stops us for a few days, or a temporary job assignment that ends up taking weeks or months longer than we expected, a discoverer’s mindset can lessen the frustration of detours and delays.
Next time you find yourself with more hours than you care to have in any particular place, remember Kundera’s thoughts. If your route unexpectedly becomes a road inviting you to stop, take advantage of whatever hospitality you can find. Take out your camera (if you have one with you) and ramble a bit. You may never again see that particular spot of the planet in quite the same way.
One year ago today
Up and doing
One week before surgery, Jeff prunes away the overgrowth in our wooded lot, May 2013.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If a few short words could sum up the past 18 months of Jeff’s life, it would be hard to find any more appropriate than these. The photo above was taken one week before he was hospitalized with the first of two major surgeries to resect metastatic tumors. He had just finished months of gruelling chemotherapy, and despite being beset with the usual side effects of fatigue, nausea, and acute neuropathy, he continued to work full time (except on days when he was taking treatment) and at home, kept up with most of his many chores.
He always knew how to labor, but waiting does not come naturally to him. However, he has probably spent more time waiting in these past 18 months than in the rest of his life combined. How difficult to wait when one is tired, worried, and far behind on the responsibilities of the workplace and home. How much more difficult when one is waiting on outcomes that will literally mean life or death! Yet he has managed it beautifully, and his faith has not wavered despite enduring a level of physical trauma and suffering that probably would have killed me or almost anyone else I know.
One of the most essential character traits we could develop is the ability to have “a heart for any fate.” I think Longfellow realized one key to this is to be “up and doing.” I am not as good at this as Jeff is, but with his example, I may yet learn.
One year ago today:
What grandparents do
Dinnertime at Granny’s! And you wont believe how delicious it will be.
Granny in her dining room, sometime around 1973.
“Nobody can do for little children what grandparents do. Grandparents sort of sprinkle stardust over the lives of little children.” — Alex Haley
I’ve written about my mother’s wonderful mother. I didn’t mention my other grandmother, or either grandfather, but suffice it to say that my siblings and I hit the lottery jackpot when it came to grandparents. The great thing about the grandparent lottery is that it has way more winners than losers!
My grandmother was a fascinating person to me. Because her father and her husband were both much older than typical for women of her age, she had the distinction of being the daughter of a Civil War veteran, and the widow of a Spanish American War veteran. According to family lore, her great-great aunt was Eliza McCardle Johnson, America’s first lady following Mary Todd Lincoln. But Granny was interesting to us long before we were old enough to understand any of that.
When it came to having fun, Granny gave us more attention than any other adult I can remember. Unlike our busy parents, she had time to play Scrabble, Monopoly and other games with us – and taught us to play well and by the rules, never (as far as we could tell) letting us win just to appease us. She was a real ace at Scrabble because of her expert-level crossword puzzle skills. She knew more two-letter words than anyone I’ve ever known.
She was an extraordinary seamstress, but unlike my mother, an equally skilled seamstress who made all the clothes for my sister and me, Granny made fabulous outfits for our Barbie dolls. Each year at Christmas, my sister and me, along with our cousins Judy and Kay, could expect to get new Barbie wardrobes, with exquisitely trimmed evening gowns, square dancing dresses (with matching shirts for Ken), chic street-length dresses and fun, casual separates. The cheaply made store-bought Barbie clothes were obviously inferior despite their plastic accessories, and our couture Barbie wardrobes furnished many happy hours of dress-up play for our friends as well as for us. When we got too old for Barbies, my sister and I filled an entire suitcase with our Barbies’ wardrobes!
Granny’s house was enchanting. It was the same home she had been born in, before the turn of the century, and my Daddy was also born in that home. It had been remodeled and was well kept over the years, full of interesting historic objects and yet-untold stories. The kitchen had an ancient walk-in pantry and an antique cabinet with a built in-flour sifter. That kitchen was the source of the only cooking that, in my mind, could possibly rival my mother’s. My little brother learned to head straight for the kitchen as soon as we arrived at Granny’s, looking for the M&M cookies that he knew he would always find there (a special treat we only got at Granny’s house).
And speaking of untold stories, Granny never seemed to run out of them, though we had to coax her into telling them. She had met and married our grandfather during his years as an actor and director in a traveling theater troupe, and she spent the early years of their marriage in that same company, touring, singing and dancing. Once in awhile, if we kept after her long enough, she would pull out her old photographs of her show business days, and they were spellbinding. It’s likely that Granny’s old photographs were influential in my own love of photography.
Though she lived into her 90’s, Granny was sharp and lucid to the very end, and even left us a final gift of a letter written to each one of us, leaving them with my Aunt Norma to be mailed after Granny died. In her letter to me, she urged me to enjoy my children and play with them often. She left us a good example of how to do that, one I hope I was able to follow.
Undoubtedly, our grandparents have influenced us in ways too numerous to count or know. What memories do you have of your grandparents? Share some of your own stories of how you, too, hit the jackpot in the “grandparent lottery.” Remembering the love of our grandparents is a great way to defeat despair!
Happy birthday to my sister Carla, who shares so many of my happy memories of both grandmothers!
One year ago today
On my farm
No wonder he wanted to go back!
This is the view from Washington’s porch, Mount Vernon, Virginia, April 2010.
“I had rather be on my farm than be emperor of the world.” ― George Washington
Washington didn’t just say those words, he lived them. At the close of the American Revolution, and again at the end of his presidency, he willingly set aside his power and returned to Mount Vernon. Strolling the grounds of that beautiful estate, it’s easy to understand why. Washington was a farmer long before he was a Revolutionary War hero or President, and that was the role he never gave up.
Today we honor the memory of Washington and another great President, Abraham Lincoln, who also was acquainted with farm life as it was lived on the American frontier nearly 100 years later. While neither of these men found their way into the history books because of their agricultural activities, it seems likely the time they spent working under the rigorous demands of nature became an integral part of the strength that would define their leadership.
Today, on President’s Day, I hope you will take a few minutes to enjoy the timeless pleasures that still come to us from farms. We can do one thing neither Lincoln nor Washington could do, powerful though they were: we can walk into a grocery story and buy fresh fruits and vegetables with literally dozens of choices, even though it’s deep into the winter. That’s something any emperor in history might envy!
One year ago today:
Some kind of recreational activity
Coffee as recreational activity: Virginia Beach in the snow, January 31,2014
“It is inhumane, in my opinion, to force people who have a genuine medical need for coffee to wait in line behind people who apparently view it as some kind of recreational activity.” — Dave Barry
I know people who have a genuine medical need for coffee, and I’m not one of them. I have a genuine medical need for tea, but I do sometimes engage in coffee as a recreational activity, especially if I can get eggs and hash browns with it.
Recently southeastern Virginia, where our York home is located, got a rare heavy snowfall, Under the circumstances, we did what anyone would do: we went to the beach. Seriously, the roads were pretty clear, and I was up for breakfast at the Belvedere again; it was a rare opportunity to see Virginia Beach covered with snow, and we didn’t even have to wait for the table with the best view. So rest easy, Dave: I did not keep anyone in dire circumstances waiting for their coffee.
If anything, breakfast at the Belvedere is MORE fun in the snow, especially with delicious hot coffee and a cozy booth with a great 180 degree view. Apparently lots of people share our enthusiasm for snow-covered beaches, because I snapped many photos of joggers, bikers and indulgent canines walking their human companions through the powdery white stuff. The waves kept crashing as always, totally unimpressed with the temperatures, and the sun perked everything up.
So coffee as a recreational activity is perfectly suitable for the beach, especially when it snows!
One year ago today:
Rivers are roads
Jeff and Matt pause at an overlook on the York River, June 2012
“Rivers are roads that move.” — Blaise Pascal
I’ve always been fascinated by maps; I could literally sit and study them for hours. One of the first things I noticed as a child, when I would look at maps, is how the cities of America seemed to cluster along rivers and coasts. There’s a logical reason for that, of course, but it’s one that is often lost on us in these days of interstate highways and air travel. There was a time when rivers were the primary roads.
Even when we didn’t live on the coasts, we were always near rivers, and I’ve enjoyed them all. Yet I seldom think of them as roads to discovery, preferring instead to sit in one place and watch them flow by. But sometimes I daydream about how much fun it would be to have a boat and go traveling by water, stopping at places along the way and making discoveries I might miss on land.
Our York home sits near several rivers — the York, the James, the Elizabeth — as well as Hampton Roads, Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean. Every time I go to the Yorktown waterfront, I enjoy it so much I tell myself I’m going to start visiting more often, if only for an hour or so each week, but when I’m home I’m busy with tasks and seldom make the time.
I think one thing I find so appealing about rivers is, even if I’m not traveling down them, other people are. Seeing the boats come and go, and the water flowing into the horizon, out of sight, reminds me of opportunities, possibilities, undiscovered wonders. I’ve heard people say “the road is calling” and perhaps rivers, as roads, call us in the same way.
Do you live near a river? If so, do you ever use it as a road for travel?
One year ago today:
The last thing on my mind
We’d only just begun: Jeff and me in May, 1978.
“I don’t understand why Cupid was chosen to represent Valentine’s Day. When I think about romance, the last thing on my mind is a short, chubby toddler coming at me with a weapon.” — Author Unknown
Let’s just say I’m not a typically romantic woman. I’ve tried reading contemporary romance novels, but I can’t seem to finish one; I find them boring, insulting, or both. I don’t like expensive restaurants, fine wines or pricey jewelry. I don’t find Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt or George Clooney appealing at all; I much prefer Dustin Hoffman or Gary Sinise.
I had no desire whatsoever for a big wedding, and in fact, I spent as little time as possible planning ours, with every bit of my wedding outfit borrowed from friends. I couldn’t wait for it to be OVER. I didn’t want a wedding, I wanted a marriage. (OK, and a honeymoon!) 🙂
When it comes to romantic relationships, I’m an oddball. In fact, until Jeff came along, I wasn’t sure I’d ever really love anyone. But when I fell, I fell hard, and it stuck. Our relationship has been far from an easy one, but he’s still my one and only Valentine.
This year, I find myself having come full circle from the time the photo above was taken, nearly 36 years ago. Now as then, I find myself wishing for many more holidays with Jeff, all too uncertain as to whether I will be granted my wish. But also, now as then, I am feeling more optimistic each day that these wishes — OUR wishes — will come true.
Yet feelings are notoriously unreliable, aren’t they? Sometimes. In this case though, I think my optimism is as well founded as it was then. Maybe our fairy tale isn’t a typical one, but despite a lot of anxiety and sorrow, it does seem to have more than its share of “happily ever after.” I choose to believe that pattern will continue. Meanwhile, I celebrate the joy of NOW, and of knowing the odds for Jeff’s survival have improved considerably over the past year.
On this day we associate with hearts and flowers, I wish for you the happiness of HOPE for a future full of love and joy. Happy Valentine’s Day! Please click here for a Valentine — and the chance to design (and save) a virtual floral arrangement!
One year ago today
It takes courage
Crocus blooms at Keukenhof, March 2007
“It takes courage to be crocus-minded…Highly irregular. Knifing through hard-frozen ground and snow, sticking their necks out, because they believe in Spring and have something personal and emphatic to say about it.” — Jo Sorley
Deciding to have faith and hope isn’t always easy, but it is a decision, and one that comes more naturally for some than for others. If you find your spirits drooping a bit, think of the hardy crocus. It’s always a welcome sight, eagerly popping up to be the first to greet springtime. Those early flowers bring us joy long before the steady warmth of the sun lures us outdoors.
As we move ever closer to another spring, I wish you many harbingers of the beautiful season to come. Have a crocus-minded day!
One year ago
From a single source
A garden at Northside Hospital in Atlanta, where I spent some memorable hours in July 2013.
“At the deepest level, the creative process and the healing process arise from a single source. When you are an artist, you are a healer.” — Rachel Naomi Remen
Often we think of art as something that hangs in a frame on a wall, but in reality the work of countless artists surrounds us so pervasively that we scarcely notice it most of the time. The photo above was taken in a lovely little garden at Northside Hospital in Atlanta, where I was able to spend some quiet moments during the long day of waiting for Grady to be born. Megan had checked in the night before and labor was induced early that morning, but Grady was not letting anyone hurry him, and he didn’t show his face until almost 9:00 p.m. that night.
I had spent many long hours in hospitals for most of the preceding year, so it wasn’t a difficult wait for me. However, I was eager to see our grandson, and increasingly anxious to know all would be well. I escaped to that little garden more than once that day when the waiting area became too dull, and was outside there when Drew’s friend Paul (who was staying in touch with the delivery room via texts with Drew) called me to report that they had decided to do a C-section.
Being a physician, Paul was able to give me enough details to reassure me that this was a sound decision based on avoiding risk of complications from prolonged labor, and not an emergency situation. Everyone was fine, and I would be seeing our grandson in an hour! So the photo above brings back a lot of happy memories about the night Grady was born.
A variety of artists made that healing little garden a reality. Landscapers, architects, and woodworkers joined forces to create a perfect setting for the sculpture of a newborn baby lovingly held in two hands. In the years since it was finished, I believe hundreds of nervous family members must have found calm and solace in that serene space, as I did.
I’m so thankful for the imaginative spirit that each of us has, in some measure, which we use in various ways. Whether you are engaged in producing art, or appreciating the work of others, I hope your life will be touched today with the healing power of creativity.
One year ago today
Great things
I’m glad someone built the road that allowed me to photograph this sight. June 2000.
“Great things are done when men and mountains meet.
This is not done by jostling in the street.” — William Blake
I like these lines from Blake, because they remind me that obstacles need not be setbacks. In a few well-chosen and memorable words, he acknowledges the stamina life requires of us, the potential for tremendous achievement, and the tendency for trivial distractions to become more formidable challenges than the mighty mountains themselves.
If you are facing a steep uphill climb in any aspect of your life, I hope these words of Blake will stick with you and inspire you. Great things are accomplished when men and women focus on worthwhile goals, no matter how daunting, rather than allowing life to be consumed by minor details and annoyances that won’t matter much in the end. Admittedly, it can be difficult to tell the difference between the urgent and the important, but it’s a skill worth developing.
What mountains are you facing? What jostling do you need to ignore today?
One year ago today
The sun a spark
The sun was so striking on this late afternoon walk in March 2013,
I just had to go all the way back to the house to get my camera.
“The days are short
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.” — John Updike
One thing I like about this time of year is the gradual lengthening of daylight hours. It still turns dark far too early, several weeks away from the onset of Daylight Savings Time. But I know that each day we will have a bit more light, and that’s something I find energizing and motivating.
It sounds trite, but spring really will be here before we know it. What ideas for this year are hatching inside your imagination? What will you do with that first delicious touch of warm weather? Planning for it is half the fun!
One year ago today
Bright, loud, weird and delicate
I photographed this monkey in Roatan, Honduras, in March 2011.
“I wish I could convey the perfection of a seal slipping into water or a spider monkey swinging from point to point or a lion merely turning its head. But language founders in such seas. Better to picture it in your head if you want to feel it…I spent more hours than I can count a quiet witness to the highly mannered, manifold expressions of life that grace our planet. It is something so bright, loud, weird and delicate as to stupefy the senses.”
― Yann Martel
I’ve made no secret of my lack of respect for most television programs, but I love the way TV has enabled us to see animals in ways that were never possible before. While nothing can replace the thrill of encountering a wild animal face to face, such encounters are brief at best, and can hardly give us a true representation of these fascinating creatures.
Matt loves to watch PBS and Animal Planet, both of which sometimes stop me in my tracks if I pass through the room when an interesting animal show is on. It’s really tempting to sit down and watch, even if I don’t have time. In any case, I’m happy that Matt gets so much enjoyment from watching them.
Martel is right that words are inadequate to describe animals in all their stunning variety, but photos and especially videos can give us the next best thing to a real-life encounter. And a well-made nature film, or really even a funny amateur YouTube clip, is a great way to grab a quick escape from the stresses of everyday human life.
If you’ve spent any time at all on the internet, you must surely have a few favorite animal videos. Feel free to send us some links to share here – and let’s have a wild time!
One year ago today
Restraint must enter
Such beautiful dishes at the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul!
It was impossible to choose — so I didn’t. May 2008
“An element of abstention, of restraint, must enter into all finer joys.”
— Vida D. Scudder
I think one of the nicest things we can do for ourselves is learning to enjoy things without wanting to own them. This is trickier with some things than with others, of course, and what appeals to the eyes may vary from person to person. But I find that “shopping” for things I like but don’t need, and have absolutely no room for, is excellent training in appreciating what belongs to others. When I know there is no way I will be buying something, that eliminates the decision making and frees me up to really see what I’m looking at, unencumbered by price or other practical considerations.
Museums can serve this purpose, but for sheer variety of colors, styles and bling, you can’t beat a good shop. And many specialty shops are excellent places to develop the skill of just saying no to ownership. Jewelry stores, furniture stores and very pricey clothing stores often fall into this category, giving us ideas and inspiration without costing a cent.
For me, looking at china is great practice in restrained shopping. There are so many fabulous patterns, with new ones coming out all the time, and the entire spectrum of colors is represented. Since I don’t have room for more china than I already have, there is no question of buying any of it, so it’s a perfect purchase-free joy to look at dishes to my heart’s content.
(It’s ironic that, as I write this, I am awaiting delivery of service for ten from the west coast, but that’s a topic for another post…)
What do you love to look at while shopping, with no intention of buying? Start with something delightful that you find it easy to say “no” to, and then move into more difficult exercises in impulse denial. It’s fun – and good for the soul AND the wallet!
One year ago today
Repainting the landscape
Snow accents our neighbors’ beautifully hardy evergreens, January 2010.
“Nature has many scenes to exhibit, and constantly draws a curtain over this part or that. She is constantly repainting the landscape and all surfaces, dressing up some scene for our entertainment. Lately we had a leafy wilderness; now bare twigs begin to prevail, and soon she will surprise us with a mantle of snow. Some green she thinks so good for our eyes that, like blue, she never banishes it entirely from our eyes, but has created evergreens.” — Henry David Thoreau
As I write this (a little over two weeks before it is scheduled to be published) there is a pristine blanket of white outside, spreading over every unpaved bit of ground, unspoiled as yet by footsteps. This recent snow was unusually powdery, blowing about and leaving drifts against the windowsills, a rare sight here in Virginia.
Though the snow is dazzlingly bright in the sun, I am glad for the remnant of blue and green in the landscape; a sky that looks remarkably like the ones we see in springtime, and evergreens that seem bundled up with their thick foliage, unharmed by the single-digit temperatures of the past 24 hours.
I hope we all hold within our imaginations the blues and greens of warmer days, a sort of internal immunization against the gloom that can overtake us in winter. How delightful to have the beauty of snow along with just a hint of the colors that will delight us in the springtime days that lie ahead!
One year ago today
Defeat Despair 
