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
The history of liberty
Holocaust Museum banners in Washington DC remind us our actions matter, April 2013.
“Liberty has never come from the government. Liberty has always come from the subjects of it. The history of liberty is a history of resistance.” — Woodrow Wilson
“That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it…” — Thomas Jefferson, from the Declaration of Independence
Whenever a government moves to uphold or defend freedom, it’s easy to get confused and think that the freedom came from the government. In reality, freedom is secured by governments, not granted by them, and even that happens only insofar as governments act in accordance with the will of the governed. One need not look far into the history books to find confirmation of Wilson’s assertion that the history of liberty is inextricably bound up with resistance to governmental tyranny.
There is a difference, of course, between oppression and unpopular legislation. I think people on either end of the political spectrum are far too quick to refer to anything they disagree with as “facism,” and to liken any political opponent to Hitler. Such words begin to lose meaning when they are tossed about as hyperbole, and desensitization to their concepts is dangerous.
It’s important to recognize, especially in a democracy, that the will of the majority must not disregard the liberty of the minorities. Thus the sometimes inexorably slow and cumbersome process of governmental checks and balances will test the patience of citizens who care passionately about their country’s actions and policies.
The great thing about having lived through many years of alternating dominance of one political party or another is that it gives us a sense of how it feels to be on either side of the equation. We’ve all felt elation when elections or court decisions went the way we hoped they would, and disappointment or even despair when they did not. If nothing else, it should give us a measure of sympathy for each other, regardless of our differing affiliations and ideas.
The next time you find yourself in either a winning or losing political position, remember that the liberty we all claim to value has never been uniformly and consistently available in all aspects of life. To value liberty is to accept the inevitability of disagreement, and the best we can do is act, speak and live in ways that will keep such conflicts in the realm of civil discourse. The most inhumane atrocities had their beginnings in tiny seeds of prejudice, anger, blame, malicious rumor and disrespectful behavior.
The history of liberty is indeed a history of resistance – including resistance to gratuitous hostility.
One year ago today
Our neighbors
Typical late afternoon traffic in Washington, DC, April 2013
“While the spirit of neighborliness was important on the frontier because neighbors were so few, it is even more important now because our neighbors are so many.” — Lady Bird Johnson
Almost everyone I know would like to make the world a better place. We long to do great things, to make a difference. For some reason, though, it seems harder to aspire to the little graces, like letting people merge in traffic when we have the right of way.
Crowds of people can be so irritating, whether standing in lines, waiting on a restaurant table or service, or dealing with noise levels we find annoying. Patience seems harder and harder to sustain. We might want to bring peace to all the world, but don’t ask us to give up our seats on a packed bus!
A lot of us handle this by avoiding crowds and withdrawing into solitude, and this can be a healthy response if we don’t carry it too far. But sooner or later, we will all want and need neighbors, whether we admit that or not. And each of us bears the responsibility to be good neighbors to those whose paths we cross.
Other than the aforementioned traffic courtesies, what are some other ways we can be good neighbors?
One year ago today
A repository of possibilities
A City Guides tour of stunning Pacific Heights, January 2004
“Walkers are ‘practitioners of the city,’ for the city is made to be walked. A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities. Just as language limits what can be said, architecture limits where one can walk, but the walker invents other ways to go.” ― Rebecca Solnit
I’ve always thought that walking is the best way to really get to know any place — a neighborhood, a city, the woods, the mountains or the beach. So much is more easily visible to those who go exploring on foot.
While we lived in northern California, I used to love to go into San Francisco and just spend the day walking around. I would be so absorbed in what I was doing that usually I would not stop to eat lunch (except for maybe an energy bar or some fruit), and I would not even miss eating. I joked to Jeff about my “San Francisco diet” because, between walking up and down all those hills and skipping the snacks and lunches, it was a great way to lose a few pounds!
I especially loved the free City Guides Tours, which offered fascinating commentary and history on various neighborhoods. Since the tour guides were all volunteers who were there simply for their love of the city and the fun of introducing it to others, there was lively discussion and time for lots of questions. Often, those who were on the tours were visitors from other cities who offered up interesting information about their own home towns.
There may be a similar program in a town near you, but even if there is not, I highly recommend taking a day sometime soon to go exploring on foot. When we take vacations, we make time for discoveries that we might never get around to in our own home cities and counties. Perhaps an afternoon “mini-vacation” is just the ticket to brighten up a dull winter week. If you do go exploring in your local area, send us some stories or photos – we’d love to take a virtual stroll with you!
One year ago today
Sharing their experience
A Huichol yarn artist in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico, March 2004
“I want to thank anyone who spends a part of their day creating, I don’t care if it’s a book, a film, a painting, a dance, a piece of theater, a piece of music – anybody who spends part of their day sharing their experience with us – I think this world would be unlivable without art and I thank you.” ― Steven Soderbergh
I want to add a special thanks to those who create with great love, but without much notice or recognition; those whose art takes the form of everyday work such as crafts, meals, garments, or other useful expressions of caring, and those whose art will never bring them fame or wealth, but brings us all a richer existence. Keep your creative spirit alive! It is a gift from above.
One year ago today
And a salute to three of my favorite online artists:
For a fantastic window on Latin America, visit Zeebra Designs and Destinations
To see stunning nature photography, visit Northwest Photographer
Bird lovers will be delighted to land at talainsphotgraphyblog
To be commanded
A gardener in Mykonos, Greece, tending his plants. May 2008
“Nature, to be commanded, must be obeyed.” — Francis Bacon
This seeming paradox is one that every gardener knows well. We can exert a strong influence over our gardens, if…
If we observe the individual traits of our plants, our local soil, and our weather. If we are regular and disciplined in tending them. If we practice preventive measures such as weeding and pest control (I prefer organic methods as much as possible).
Even if we do all of these things, however, there are no guarantees. Maybe that is part of the fun of gardening; we never know quite what to expect. But if we hope to achieve good results, we must obey as much as we command – perhaps more.
At this time of year, I’m sure I’m not the only one whose thoughts are turning toward getting outdoors and working on lawns, gardens, flowers, vegetables and other plants. Which commands have you learned to obey, and which to issue?
One year ago today
Intended for solace
A flower merchant decorates a sidewalk in Barcelona, May 2008.
“Flowers seem intended for the solace of ordinary humanity.” — John Ruskin
You’ve probably noticed that I have been intentionally choosing themes that are linked in some way to the posts I did on the same day one year ago. The first couple of times when this happened accidentally and readers commented on it, I realized it was a helpful way to narrow down potential topics. It enables me to get the posts done more quickly. So I plan to continue this unless readers start complaining that the links are repetitive. I’ll try to keep them different enough to be worth glancing at again.
It does seem that the first day of February is an excellent time to start anticipating springtime, which for many of us means anticipating flowers. Ruskin is right; natural beauty, so colorfully epitomized by flowers, is universally available for appreciation (even though some of the more fabulous views may have limited accessibility due to location, ownership or entrance fees).
Flowers, though, bloom everywhere, and are cultivated and harvested by talented gardeners and merchants who want to spread the joy. If you can’t visit a botanical garden, there are still displays to be found wherever there are people. I just love it that grocery stores often feature floral departments with fresh flowers in abundance. I can hardly run into a grocery, even for one or two items, without taking a minute or two to enjoy their colors and fragrance.
I hope you will make some time today (or soon) to seek out the solace of flowers. They are visual music, a balm for the spirit and food for the soul!
One year ago today
Consider having fun
Having fun in the rain, then and now:
Drew and Matt wearing the SAME PONCHOS at EPCOT Center in 1995 and 2003
“If you only do what’s important, you’ll never have any fun, unless you consider having fun important.” — Ashleigh Brilliant
If you don’t consider having fun important, I hope you’ll think about it and change your mind! Recently we had a discussion in the comments here, about end-of-life wishes, and things people wish they had done more often. A lot of the wishes center on doing fun or important things – often both. But one thing nobody in our family will probably ever say is “I wish we’d gone to Disney parks more often,” since we enjoyed more than our fair share of visits there.
We love Disney, at least the Disney movies that were produced up through the mid-1990’s, and all the classic characters. And we never tire of going to the Disney parks; we’ve literally lost count of how many times we’ve gone to either the California Disneyland parks, or the Walt Disney World parks in Florida. We never got too old to enjoy it, and some of our happiest memories happened there.
The photos above were taken more than eight years apart, in almost exactly the same location at EPCOT Center — and the boys are wearing the EXACT SAME RAIN PONCHOS! I am not making this up. (I told you I never threw anything away.) I bought each of us a rain poncho right before we visited Walt Disney World in 1995, while we lived in Hawaii, and we found them so useful I kept them and took them along on every subsequent Disney trip, long after the boys were wearing adult sizes. The great thing about a poncho is that one size fits all.
When we had some rain during our 2003 trip to Disney World (taken to celebrate Matt’s 18th birthday) Drew thought it would be fun to get another photo like the one we had taken so many years before. I don’t know which was more fun, taking the photos or comparing them years afterward!
I hope you are making time for enjoying funny moments with people you love, and maybe preserving those memories in photos or journals, or both. Someday it will seem way more important than it might seem now.
Happy Lunar New Year!
One year ago today
Distance lends enchantment
Green up close, blue far away: distance changes how things look.
The Blue Ridge Mountains, western Virginia, July 2005
‘Tis distance lends enchantment to the view,
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
— Thomas Campbell
Time and memory don’t always improve the way things seem to us, but often they do. As with the old saying about the weather, if you are unhappy today, wait a while. Although it may be hard to imagine, there will almost certainly come a time, probably fairly soon, when things appear at least a little bit better than they do right now. And it’s even more likely that someday you will look back on these years of your life and feel better about them — either happy they are in the past, or happy for the good times they held, which you can see with more clarity from a distance.
One year ago today
A sunny spirit
Matt and Drew in 1986, laughing together as they still do so often.
“Humor is the great thing, the saving thing. The minute it crops up, all our irritation and resentments slip away, and a sunny spirit takes their place.” — Mark Twain
Of all the things that have helped us survive the past thirty years, and even before that, I would have to say that humor is near the top of the list. I cannot count the times when a good laugh has lightened everything up for us. If someone asked me to name the trait I value most in both our sons, it might well be their robust sense of humor.
Years ago when the boys and I were visiting my parents, we decided to take the MARTA train into Atlanta for some reason or other. I have forgotten what we did in town that day; what I remember most is something memorable that happened on the way home.
It was right around rush hour in the afternoon, and our train was crowded. Somewhere between West End and College Park, after the train had gone above ground but was not near a station, it began to slow, grinding to a stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere.
For a couple of seconds a hush fell over our car, and then something wonderful happened. As if on cue, almost everyone in the car burst into laughter. It was so contagious, it was hard not to join in. As we sat there — I don’t remember how long, but it might have been ten or twenty minutes — there was a relaxed, almost party atmosphere as people engaged in lively speculation about what was going on, and how long it might be before it was fixed.
What surprised me most was the complete absence of any impatience, irritation or annoyance from anyone I heard. It was as if we were all caught as extras in some sitcom episode or comedy movie, enjoying it to the hilt. It was most unexpected, and makes me smile to this day when I think about it. The car eventually started up again, but the memory of that temporary stop lingers on.
I’ve wondered about it a good bit over the years. Why did these people react with such spirited humor? I tell myself that maybe it was something about the relaxed good will of Atlanta (I can’t imagine that happening on the New York subway) or the southern African-American culture (we were the only white people in our car) or maybe it was just the sunny weather of a beautiful day in a lovely city.
Whatever the reason, the experience left me indelibly impressed with the power of humor to turn bad situations into good ones. I hope you have had many such experiences, and will have many more. Feel free to share some of them in the comments!
One year ago today
We hope it
Crape myrtles in winter, bare but getting ready to bloom beautifully, January 2010.
“Our destiny often looks like a fruit-tree in winter. Who would think from its pitiable aspect that those rigid boughs, those rough twigs could next spring again be green, bloom, and even bear fruit? Yet we hope it, we know it.”
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
After the difficulties of an especially harsh year, I am grateful for nature’s continual reminders of how things can be made new again. It’s really remarkable, the transformation of a tree from a bare, seemingly moribund skeleton to a profusion of greenery and flowers. I see it each year in the crape myrtles in our neighborhood, pictured above in winter and here, photographed in the summer.
I’ve learned from experience not to give up on straggly plant remains that appear to have been frozen. Sometimes flowering annuals spring back to life again as the weather warms (whether from roots or seeds, I’m never quite sure), or a neglected houseplant will gradually respond to more attention.
So it is with us, with our hopes and dreams. We can survive quite a lot, and hopefully come back stronger.
One year ago today
What you now have
The computer camera snapped this photo of Grady and me on December 23, 2013.
“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.” ― Epicurus
It’s so easy to get caught up in looking ahead to the next goal or aspiration. There’s nothing wrong with anticipation; it makes life more fun. But it’s also important to stop and realize how many things we have that we didn’t have ten, twenty or thirty years ago. Or in some cases, even one year or one week ago.
I invite you to join me today in feeling happy and thankful about the new(er) things in your life. What are some relatively recent blessings that hold promise for 2014? What do you have now that you once only hoped for?
One year ago today
Blessed thought
Sometimes the pathway is beautiful, sometimes not,
but I truly believe we need never walk it alone.
Mission San Juan Bautista, California, June 2003
“He leadeth me: O blessed thought!
O words with heavenly comfort fraught!
Whate’er I do, where’er I be,
still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.” — Joseph H. Gilmore
This old hymn, which its author said was written during “the darkest hour of the Civil War,” has always been a favorite of mine. I have vivid childhood memories of hearing it sung by the congregation in church, where the booming, perfectly-pitched tenor of an older British gentleman rose above the others and impressed me with the conviction in his tone when he sang it. To hear him sing those words was to feel a sense of elation and absolute assurance that went perfectly with the beautiful melody of the song’s chorus.
I know there are a lot of people who have mostly negative views of religious faith. I can understand to some extent how people could feel that way, given the wars and violence done in the name of various religions, and the unfortunate stereotypes of believers that are often perpetuated by the media.
My own experience of faith, though, has been almost completely the opposite. For a lifetime I have been watching believers whose faith in God has defined their lives and blessed the world around them. I have seen people weather unbelievably tough times with a peace that truly passes understanding. I have been strengthened and upheld by knowing that people are praying for us. And the sadness of losing loved ones who die is tempered by the belief that their souls live on, and the hope that we will someday see them again.
To some, of course, this sounds like foolish wishful thinking. But I’m reminded of one of my favorite Woody Allen quotes: “What if everything is an illusion and nothing exists? In that case, I definitely overpaid for my carpet.” As funny as this quote is, he does have a point. If it’s cold, hard evidence you’re after, I think most of what seems like “proof” is just as illusory, if not more so, than truths that cannot be seen. I’m not sure we have any more reason to trust what we see as “realities” that appear only to our senses, than we do to trust in the unseen, and perhaps Einstein would agree.
In any case, I am profoundly thankful to have this song among the ones that play inside my head when I need them most. I love it even more now, after sitting beside Jeff in church this morning, hearing him sing the words of the final verse and knowing he meant them. The world is a very tough place at times, and it’s unspeakably comforting to hold to an unchanging hand.
One year ago yesterday*
*the post from one year ago today was linked in yesterday’s post
The beautiful stillness
One of our bookshelves, December 2012
“Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author’s words reverberating in your head.” ― Paul Auster
Even when life is the craziest and most chaotic, I always read myself to sleep at night. It’s often the only time of day that I make time to read a book, but no matter how late it is, I read at least a little bit, just long enough to drift off. It keeps me from lying awake worrying about everything else.
Reading is undoubtedly a comfort, consolation and stimulant of choice at other times, too. Whether it’s email, a letter, a newspaper, a magazine or the back of a cereal box, I cannot imagine going very long without reading something. It’s my preferred method of staying in touch with people I care about, as well as the way I learn, think, and survive. It’s as necessary to my well-being as food and water. I really believe that.
Readers today are blessed as never before with unlimited sources and choices for reading material. Audiobooks, digital readers and quick, free downloads from the public library have increased our options exponentially. Whenever I feel overwhelmed or depressed, the thought of having so much reading, just waiting for me wherever and whenever I am ready for it, brightens my day.
If you have a Kindle, Nook or other e-reader and need help finding a public library near you from which to download free audio and electronic books, let me know. I’d be glad to help you find one. Do you have a favorite author, series, or great book to recommend? There’s no better time than winter to share the joys of reading!
One year ago tomorrow*
*I switched the “one year ago” posts for today and tomorrow because the topics matched better. The post from one year ago today will appear with tomorrow’s blog post.
The onrush of scenery
The approach to the Golden Gate Bridge, as seen from Marin Headlands, July 2003
“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath
It’s difficult to read this quote from Plath without thinking of the sad reality that she chose to end her own life while still young, with two small children. Yet I find hope here in realizing that even a person given to fatal depths of melancholia was not completely beyond the reach of happiness.
One thing that helps me in moments of despair is the realization that “this too shall pass.” When everything seems to be going wrong, or when we are feeling sad or distressed (even if it’s for no particular reason) it’s easy to think we can never be happy again. But when our emotions tell us our sorrow is permanent, our minds can argue back.
Yes, we can and will be happy again. Yes, there will even be moments of elation, such as Plath describes. We know this because we can look into our memories and find both joy and sorrow there.
I think we all have had times when we felt a similar rush of joy. What are some of those moments for you? Can you think of a place you’ve stood and marveled at the sights spread out before you? Or a time when you thought “right now, everything feels almost perfect?” I hope you have many such gems to remember, and I hope that this year will bring you more of them.
One year ago today
Inviting people in
As Tammy and Matt agree, we’re always ohana at the Puakea home. December 2006
“I allow my fear of embarrassment to stop me from hostessing anyone. I tell myself it’s fine, it’s just not ‘my thing,’ but I actually think that’s a weak excuse. Because there are things we should do, regardless of whether they are our favorite ‘things’ or not…I think inviting people into your home, whether it’s an impeccable mansion or a rusty old shack, is probably an important practice.” – Glennon Doyle Melton
One of the most important things we can do to defeat despair — and to help others to do the same — is to let people in. Into our lives, into our hearts, and yes, into our homes. Even when our homes aren’t exactly ready for prime time.
My house is a wreck right now, even more so than usual. In fact, all the piles of stuff that used to make a crazy sort of sense to me do not make sense to me any more. There’s nothing for it but to plow into it as I have time, clean up, clear away and in the meantime, LIGHTEN UP on the inside. Translation: even as I go about cleaning up, I can’t get impatient with myself because, compared to what’s been going on the past two months, and some of the other stuff that is still going on, this housekeeping stuff is SO unimportant.
This is not to say that I don’t clean things up when we have people over. In fact, Jeff and I have always joked, “The house is really messy, we need to invite some people over” because that makes us prioritize tidying up. But when people come over a few times, you stop worrying about it. There’s nothing like having someone in your home, and going into theirs, to let you get to know them in a way you won’t get to know them anyplace else. And pretty soon, the superficial stuff doesn’t matter much.
When we go to each other’s homes, we see each other’s pets and furniture and art and projects and notes on the fridge. We sit in their chairs and on their floors and at their tables, and laugh and talk and sometimes sing and pray together, and just soak in who they are in their natural surroundings. There’s nothing really like it, and I think one reason people are so crazy nowadays is that we don’t do enough of this type of thing anymore. There are too many electronic substitutes for being with friends. But they can’t replace face time.
Our friends Mitzie and Robert are wonderful examples to us when it comes to hospitality. These people have more folks into their home than anyone I know. Maybe it’s Mitzie’s heart of gold or Robert’s Hawaiian heritage, but they are like professional friend-makers and they bring people together all the time. They host church groups and community groups and their sons’ friends, and at least once a year they have a big luau for local mainland Hawaiians and wannabe Hawaiians, complete with live music and food and more laughter than you can imagine and even a pig roasted in the genuine Hawaiian way. I’ve never seen their home messy but the truth is I don’t think anyone would notice if it was. You walk in the door and it’s like you are ohana; you are home.
We have many other friends who are like them, and set a good example for us. Two of them, Tammy and J.J., are coming over tomorrow for awhile, just to see us. I won’t have anything special fixed to eat (although I’ll offer them tea 🙂 ) and you can bet the house will still be bordering on eligibility for a hoarders show, but I’m not worried about it, because we’ve been in each others’ homes so many times now they feel like family.
I hope you have people like that, people who can drop in anytime, no matter whether you’re ready for company or not. I also hope you will join me in resolving to open your home to friends and potential friends. It doesn’t have to be anything big (unless you enjoy that type of thing) — it can just be pizza and conversation. A board game and snacks. Whatever.
I admit that often, before people come over, Jeff and I get nervous and grouchy and run around trying to clean everything up and get everything ready, and we don’t usually feel totally prepared when the doorbell rings. But we have never, ever, ever NOT felt happier afterwards. It’s magical.
Do you have anyone you’d like to invite to your home, but have been putting it off for one reason or another? Try moving that up on your list of priorities, and see what happens. And if someone invites you to come to their home, try carving out time to go. Let me know how it goes!
One year ago today
Net of wonder
The wake of the Diamond Princess off the coast of Mexico, March 2004
“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”
— Jacques Yves Cousteau
After spending 21 of the past 24 years living near the ocean, I have no desire to live very far inland. It’s interesting, because I don’t have any of the interests one might normally associate with coastal living. I don’t fish, I’m not a very good swimmer, and I never go scuba diving or even snorkeling. I don’t spend much time in boats, although I might enjoy that. I don’t even like seafood.
But there’s something about being near the ocean that feels more free, more healthy and more alive to me. There’s something about having land on one side and water on the other; something about always having an orientation; a compass of sorts, merely by knowing which side the ocean lies on. It gives a frame of reference from which to start, no matter what direction you want to travel, with the promise of unseen continents to explore, lying on the other side of the water.
And then there’s the water itself; the sound of the surf, and salt-air breezes, and the gulls flying over. I love the bridges and the marinas and the incomparable sunsets over the water. There’s a feeling of expansive serenity at the ocean that I don’t find anywhere else.
Sometimes when I’m working in our wooded lot I will forget how close to the water we are, until I’m digging and come on a bed of oyster shells (which Jeff suspects are left there by critters who dig them out of the creek) or hear the sound of gulls overhead, as I used to hear long ago when working in our back yard surrounded by eucalyptus trees on the central coast of California. It’s doubly appealing to be in a wooded area but still near enough to the ocean to hear the gulls.
Of course, every region has its appeal, whether the landscape is dessert, mountains or plains. But even if you strongly favor inland living, I highly recommend escaping now and then to the sea, if only in imagination or via a virtual tour online. The spell might not be as strong as if you were there in person, but the net of wonder cast by the ocean is far-reaching and rejuvenating.
One year ago today
No ordinary people
Extraordinary everyday people surround The Immigrants statue,
Battery Park, New York City, May 2007.
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” — C. S. Lewis
My favorite author C. S. Lewis wrote many passages that touch my heart and open my mind, but none is more sobering and remarkable to me than the text that includes the quote above. Think about it: every person you encounter today is more unique, more important and more eternal than any non-human part of your life.
It’s hard for us to realize this, surrounded as we are with so many appealing gadgets, to say nothing of the aspects of nature that are far more attractive and less irritating than some of the people we meet. But I really think Lewis hit the nail on the head here. Of everything in this world that matters, people matter most, and we forget that at our own peril.
I think Fred Rogers understood that. So did a lot of other remarkable people I’ve known. With their help, I hope I’m beginning to understand it, too.
One year ago today
Defeat Despair 