Books

Bookish Pleasures

May 24, 2013

One of my greatest pleasures is reading. But not just the reading itself—also thinking about reading, planning what to read next, even reading about reading. This week I’ve spent more time than usual doing the fun little tasks associated with reading: shuffling piles, consolidating the to-be-read (TBR) list, and so on.


I always have piles of books lying around: books in progress, books lined up for one of the reading challenges I’m doing, books I’ve finished reading, but want to reread select parts of or write notes about. But the very best pile of all is the one of books next up to be read. I got this little pile at the library this week, except for the top one which I own and had already started to read. Here’s what I got:


What I Learned at Bug Camp, Sarah Juniper Rabkin. I’m always on the lookout for collections of essays, and I read about this one on Susan J. Tweit’s blog. Rabkin is a naturalist, artist and teacher, and I’m very much enjoying her thoughtful writing.

The Muse Is IN: An Owner’s Manual to Your Creativity, Jill Badonsky. This brightly-illustrated book looks like a fun jump start to creativity. It might help me with my proposed 30 Days of Creativity (coming soon!).

The Cursing Mommy’s Book of Days, Ian Frazier. A humorous novel written in daybook form, the main character is a “hilariously desperate housewife with a taste for swearing and large glasses of red wine, who speaks to the frustrations of everyday life.” I read about this in the New York Times, and it sounds like a good antidote to stress, don’t you think?

Moving to Higher Ground, Wynton Marsalis with Geoffrey C. Ward. Marsalis writes about lessons learned in a lifetime in jazz—I’m quite excited about finally checking this out, because it’s one of the books that’s been on my TBR list the longest!

Gone Girl, Gillian Flynn. The novel that made such a splash last year, apparently a twisty/turny thriller. I’m looking forward to seeing what the fuss was all about.

I’ll have to start Gone Girl first because there are people signed up after me to read it and I won’t be able to renew it after the checkout period is over. This might be a challenge, because next week will be given up to entertaining out-of-town family and celebrating my son’s graduation from high school. Surely I’ll be able to sneak a little reading time in there. I hope.

In addition to piles of books, I have lists of books. On Sunday I spent an hour puttering through my TBR list, consolidating and updating. I’d finished a book, and wandered through the library catalog looking for something new to put on hold (see pile above for the result). I checked reviews on Amazon to see if I still wanted to read a few books that had been on my list for a while, crossing out a few, but mostly transferring them to a clean page in my organizer. My library recently changed its cataloging system, and it took me a little while to figure out how to best use it.  Occasionally, a book on my list will disappear from the catalog and I have to decide if I want to try interlibrary loan, buy a copy, or discard the book from my TBR list. Momentous decisions!

I’ll be spending some time getting a start on one or more of my new books this weekend before all the company arrives. What are you reading this weekend?

Laura Dimmit

"Joey, 4th Grade, 1992"

May 22, 2013



Note: I had scheduled this poem before the tornadoes in Oklahoma. I'm going to run it as planned, because it seems even more timely now. My heart goes out to those in Moore, OK and anywhere else where people are coping with the aftereffects of disaster. 

Laura Dimmit is from Joplin, Missouri, and her family survived the fierce tornado of May, 2011. The entire area was strewn with debris, and here’s a poem about just one little piece that fell from the sky. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

School photo, found after the Joplin tornado 

                                             “Joey, 4th grade, 1992”

He’s been on the fridge since it happened,
sneaking glances from underneath the cat
magnet at our dinners, coffee habits, arguments.
We posted him on the database of items found,
hoping that someone would recognize his messy
hair, Batman t-shirt, blue eyes, but no one
answered the post or claimed him.
Somewhere a childhood photo album is not
quite complete, or a grandmother’s mantelpiece;
an uncle’s wallet. One afternoon I got restless,
flipped through my old yearbooks, trying to find him,
looking to see how he might have aged: did he lose
the chubby cheeks? dye his hair? how long
did he have to wear braces? But he’s too young
to have passed me in the halls, the picture just
a stranger, a small reminder of the whirling aftermath
when Joplin was clutching at scraps: everything displaced,
even this poor kid who doesn’t even know he’s lost.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Laura Dimmit, and reprinted by permission of the poet. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Activities

We'll Never Have Yard of the Month

May 20, 2013

Not yard of the month.

Our subdivision just started a new program—“Yard of the Month.” There’s a sign posted right at the entrance with the address of the winning house. When I saw the sign, I realized immediately that we’ll never have “Yard of the Month.” Not because we have an ugly yard, or a neglected yard—what we have is a yard that doesn’t fit the image of what a subdivision’s “Yard of the Month” should look like. We’ve left a good portion of our front yard in its natural state, except for grass required by the subdivision in the portion of our yard between the sidewalk and the street. This is our choice and our preference. I’m completely fine with never winning “Yard of the Month.” There’s something very freeing about not buying into someone else’s ideal.

This got me thinking about other areas of life where I might be buying into other people’s expectations: what I do (and don’t do) with my horse, how clean (or dirty) my house is, and, most certainly, what I do (and don’t do) as a parent. This last is particularly on my mind as we get ready to send Nick out into the world. It didn’t take us long to realize our son is not a fits-the-mold kind of kid. (But he was “Student of the Month” one time—in first grade!) We’ve had to frequently reexamine our expectations and choices to see if we were doing what was best for him or just what everyone else was doing.

It’s a good practice to take inventory of all our activities from time to time, asking ourselves why we do what we do. Because we really want to, or because someone else thinks we should? It’s all too easy to buy into someone else’s idea of happiness/fun/worth, without stopping to consider what we actually think ourselves.

I’m still learning this lesson—as we probably all are. How about you? Is there anything you’ve stopped doing after evaluating why you were doing it? Anything you’ve started doing just because you want to?

Brendan Burchard

Son of Link Love

May 17, 2013


It’s time once again for a roundup of websites and blog posts that I’ve collected in my internet meanderings that I think you might like.

Visit http://tinybuddha.com/ for “simple wisdom for complex lives.” Lots of good and inspiring stuff here.

Susan J. Tweit always writes thoughtful and interesting blog posts. This one,  posted on the second Valentine’s Day after the death of her husband, touched and inspired me.

Watch this video by Brendan Burchard on limiting beliefs—what if you focused on your greatness, instead of your weakness and insecurity?


I love Gretchen Rubin’s books about happiness (The Happiness Project and Happier at Home), and read her blog nearly every day (the comments following the posts are always interesting, too). This post resonated with me, because the things I really want to do, that I know will add true happiness to my life, are not always the ones I find easiest.

Read about 22 things happy people do differently here. 

If you want a low-key way to add more poetry (and inspiration) to your life, visit Samantha Reynolds’ site, bentlily. I love the subtitle: “the art of noticing your life.”

And that’s it for this edition of Link Love. Have you made any new online discoveries lately?

Acceptance

To Be Alive

May 15, 2013



“To be alive is the biggest fear humans have. Death is not the biggest fear we have; our biggest fear is taking the risk to be alive—the risk to be alive and express what we really are. Just being ourself is the biggest fear of humans. We have learned to live our life trying to satisfy other people’s demands. We have learned to live by other people’s points of view because of the fear of not being accepted and of not being good enough for someone else.”
—Don Miguel Ruiz, The Four Agreements

Family

A Few Observations

May 13, 2013

One of Ron's beloved roses.

Thank you to everyone for your sympathy and good wishes. I returned from my mom’s over the weekend and all went as well as could be expected. My stepfather’s funeral took place Thursday, and we had a lunch for family and friends at the house afterwards. It was good to see my stepbrothers and their families as well as my aunt and two of my cousins, despite the reason for the visit.

On my flights and drives to and from my mom’s, I had some time to think, and I came up with a few random observations to share with you:
  • The longer the flight, the less room you’ll have between you and the seat in front of you. My knees actually touched the seatback.
  • There is always a baby. Be kind to the parents and grateful you are not in their shoes.
  • People are fascinating. What they wear, what they say, how they behave.
  • When your airplane makes a sound like someone trying to saw through the floorboards, don’t panic. That’s what Xanax is for.
  • Even if you don’t know the deceased, you will cry at a military funeral. If you knew and loved the person, prepare to dissolve completely into a puddle.
  • Life is short. Do the things that matter.
Again, thank you for your kindness—let’s all have a great week!

Death

Life Happens

May 03, 2013

I was preparing another Link Love post for today, but that will have to wait. We’ve had another death in the family, this time my stepfather, and I’ll be flying out to California to help my mom.


That’s always the way, isn’t it? We’re getting ready for our son’s graduation from high school and all that entails, but life keeps on happening around us. I say “life” on purpose, because death is a part of life. My family members both had good, full lives and are now at peace, no more suffering or pain.

My stepfather, Ron, married my mom when I was in college. He was good to and for her, and always kind to me, too. (I’ve been fortunate in stepparents—my stepmother is a gem.) Ron loved life, was extremely active—going to the gym early in the morning and working in the yard. When my mom needed to move north to care for my grandmother who had Alzheimer’s disease, Ron willing left Southern California where he had lived for many years, to live with my mom in her childhood home and support her in her care of Grandma. He loved USC (the University of Southern California), travel, drinking good wine and martinis, and smoking the occasional cigar with my husband. We will miss him at our family celebrations.

Fishing on the Sacramento River

With my mom in 2011
I’ll be back with you in about a week or so. Thanks so much for your support!

Advice

Instead of Worry, Peace

May 01, 2013



Nearly all of us spend too much of our lives thinking about what has happened, or worrying about what's coming next. Very little can be done about the past and worry is a waste of time. Here the Kentucky poet Wendell Berry gives himself over to nature. [Introduction by Ted Kooser]

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Wendell Berry, "The Peace of Wild Things" from The Selected Poems of Wendell Berry. Copyright © 1998. Published and reprinted by arrangement with Counterpoint Press. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

A Private History of Happiness

Joyful Moments: A Private History of Happiness

April 29, 2013




Happiness comes in many different flavors—and you can find 99 of them in the 2012 book A Private History of Happiness. Author George Myerson has assembled a collection of snippets from diaries, letters, memoirs and other “life records” that show “everyday moments of joy in different times and cultures” as recorded by artists, authors, poets, philosophers and other thinkers. Many of these moments take place while the individuals go about their normal lives—the joy is there for the recognizing.

After each passage, Myerson relates some background information on the person who wrote it, and the situation which called up the moment of happiness. The passages are organized by themes: Morning, Friendship, Garden, Family, Leisure, Nature, Food and Drink, Well-Being, Creativity, Love and Evening. Some of the writers are well-known, (Benjamin Franklin, George Eliot, Ptolemy and Leo Tolstoy, for example), but many are not.

I met many interesting people on these pages, like law student George Cutler (“A Breakfast Served with Stories and Laughter”) whose jubilance shines through his words:

“For the moon was bright, the snow full of reflection, I full of breakfast, and Nate [his horse] full of fire; while the cocks of the country crowed about us for music and the stars shot this way and that about the heavens, as if making a display of fireworks for our amusement. All was silent. As we rose [rode up] the hills and looked back upon the far distance which ran down the valley to the southeast, the two extremes of the splendour of the united powers of snow and moonbeams and the contrasted darkness of the deep ravines into which light would not penetrate, filled the whole view. I often stopped to admire the cold but burnished beauties of the prospect and felt the magnificence of the scene.
“I found George up, though I little expected it when I turned a corner to take a look at his window. I had little thought of seeing a light there at that time of the night—I ran upstairs, opened the door an inch and inquired if Mr. Gibbs lived there. Then we laughed ourselves to death and disturbed the neighbors….
“Breakfasted there and told stories till I thought I had told too many […]….”

And pioneer woman Lodisa Frizzell (“Home-Style Cooking on the Wagon Trail”), writing about the comfort of food on the way west in 1852:

“We encamped in a beautiful place, on the bank of a stream called Elm Creek, under the shade of two large elm trees; here was good grass, plenty of the best of wood, and some water, for the creek was very low, and as the sun was 3 hours high or more, some went out hunting while the old doctor, Beth [Bethel], and I went to cooking; we soon had the best of a fire, cooked some meat and beans, stewed some apples and peaches, boiled some rice, and baked biscuit, and fried some crulls, and as I had a glass pickle jar full of sour milk, and plenty of salaratus [baking soda], I had as fine cakes as if I had been at home; and when they returned in the evening we had a general feast.”

A Private History of Happiness is a wonderful book to dip in and out of. These stories serve to remind that it’s often the little, sometimes unnoticed moments that bring the most happiness. We don’t have to search for happiness, or wait for it to come to us someday when we’ve reached a certain goal or milestone. When we stop and look around, we find that happiness has been here all along.

I experienced a moment similar to these a few weeks ago, which I wrote about here. What small moments of happiness have you experienced?

30 days

30 Days

April 26, 2013


If you’re at all familiar with home organizing websites (or Pinterest) then you’ve probably come across the concept of “30 Days of Organizing.” With my affection for lists and for clearing out and decluttering, I’m always drawn to these lists and often start off making my own with a burst of enthusiasm—enthusiasm that fades approximately five days into the whole deal. You see, I’m always attracted to the fantasy idea of “getting things under control” in a set time, like 30 days. Never mind that life itself resists efforts to control it, and likely will never be under control. Never mind that my list often sounds about as fun as 30 days of dental appointments. (How much interest can I really drum up in cleaning the bedroom ceiling fan?)

So as I was making my latest dreary home organizing list, I pondered taking the 30 days concept in a much more enjoyable direction. What about scheduling 30 days of creativity? Or 30 days of sketching, writing, gratitude, or even pampering? Oh, oh, oh—or 30 days of chocolate! Gee, those sound a lot more fun! Frankly, I have more need of scheduling creativity and fun that I do chores. Despite my sensitive conscience and obsession with contributing to family life, I do enough. Instead of adding more to my workload, I’m going to schedule in some fun.

As I was thinking about this idea, I also remembered something I’d read on Matt Cutts’ blog—a slightly different take on the 30 days concept.  Matt is a software engineer and head of Google’s Webspam team and he chooses a new 30-day challenge every month. Some of his challenges have been 30 days of: exercise; acts of kindness; avoiding reading, watching or hearing the news; drawing something; and ukulele! Here’s a link to a video of Matt giving a short TED talk about 30-day challenges: 


I decided to go for 30 Days of Creativity, and here are a few things I’ve jotted down on my list (any suggestions?): go on an artist’s date; finish filling my sketchbook that only has two or three blank pages left in it; write a haiku; take some photos. At this point, I’m not going to limit myself to any one area of creativity, but I am going to try hard to make it 30 consecutive days. That will be a big challenge for me, because I often find it hard to do anything for 30 consecutive days, even fun things. I usually miss a day here and there, but I won’t beat myself up about that. Any step in a more creative direction will be progress. To keep me honest, I’ll let you know when I officially start my experiment, and post updates about it here on the blog.

In my opinion, we don’t need to add more work to our lives. We need to add more joy, more play, more fun and creativity. There will always be more than enough work to fill our time—but is that really how we want to fill it?

What would you like to try for 30 days?

Dirt

Dirt

April 24, 2013



“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”
—Margaret Atwood

Pets

Fun with Facial Hair

April 22, 2013


Fu-Dog-Chu (look closely):


Salvador Doggy:


I obviously have too much time on my hands. And how was your weekend?

Happify

Build Your Happiness Skills with Happify

April 19, 2013


A couple of months ago, one of the founders of Happify.com contacted me to ask if I’d like to be a beta tester of the site before it went public. Of course I said yes, because I’m always interested in all possible ways of increasing happiness for myself and others.

Created by a combination of scientists and game designers, Happify uses games, quizzes and activities designed to help improve your level of happiness because, as they write in the About Happify section, “Just like physical fitness, there are activities you can do on a regular basis to become happier.” Scientific evidence indicates that about 40% of our happiness level is within our control (the remaining 60 % stems from genetics and demographics). That means that we can have a significant impact on how happy we feel by doing things that make us happier.  

Happify has broken down the activities into five “essential happiness skills”: Savor, Thank, Aspire, Give, Empathize. Once you sign up, you’re given an initial assessment of your happiness level. Then you choose a “track” to follow. You can measure and follow your progress on your designated track, and you can switch tracks if you want to. Most activities take only a few minutes, with a few more minutes more to write about them. Some you can pledge to do, then come back and report on how they went. You can read about the science behind each activity by clicking the “Why It Works” button. Members are encouraged to follow other members, “Like” and comment on others’ Happify posts. You can set each activity to be visible to your followers, or just yourself. (To protect people close to me, I chose to keep a couple of the more sensitive activities private.) You can choose photos to illustrate your posts from the Happify site, from Facebook or from your own computer. There is also a Happify Facebook Group you can join.

In addition to Happify members’ posts, Happify’s home page features the “Daily Happifier”—photos, videos, quotes or short stories intended to boost your mood.

So far, I’ve completed one track: “Cope Better with Stress,” and I’m now working on “Nurture Your Body and Soul.” Other tracks include “Appreciate What You Have,” “Explore the Art in Happiness,” “Be More Socially Connected,” and “Enjoy Parenting More.”

So what do I think? I have to admit my initial response when I started was to feel more stressed! (Oh, no—I’m falling behind on my happiness activities!) The program is set up so you do a certain number of activities in a certain time frame, and I could not keep up. This was partly because since I am a “Pioneer,” I was taking them very seriously and wanting to put some time and thought into each activity. I wanted to post, comment on others’ posts and give feedback as often as I could. Once I realized I could extend my track as often as I wanted, and that no one was pressuring me to finish, I settled down to my own slightly plodding and erratic pace and relaxed about the whole thing.

The biggest lesson I’ve learned so far is how oblivious I am throughout the day. I don’t take the time to notice and savor. I charge through my days trying to “achieve” as much as I can, whether that means a writing project, household chore or batch of errands. I’m missing my own life! The Happify activities, many of which require a bit of reflection, have helped me be more mindful, to plan treats for myself and others, and to think more deeply about my life.

I think if you go at your own pace, and participate as much or as little as you like, Happify can be a fun way learn more about what makes you happy, as well as connect with others who are focused on bringing more joy to everyday life. Happify has extended an invitation to my readers, so if you want to check out Happify for yourself, click here. And let me know what you think!

Linda Hogan

Writing Across the Sky

April 17, 2013



This column originates in Nebraska, and our office is about two hours’ drive from that stretch of the Platte River where thousands of sandhill cranes stop for a few weeks each year. Linda Hogan, one of our most respected Native writers and Writer in Residence for The Chickasaw Nation, perfectly captures their magic and mystery in this fine poem. [Introduction by Ted Kooser.]

The Sandhills

The language of cranes
we once were told
is the wind. The wind
is their method,
their current, the translated story
of life they write across the sky.
Millions of years
they have blown here
on ancestral longing,
their wings of wide arrival,
necks long, legs stretched out
above strands of earth
where they arrive
with the shine of water,
stories, interminable
language of exchanges
descended from the sky
and then they stand,
earth made only of crane
from bank to bank of the river
as far as you can see
the ancient story made new.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. Poem reprinted from Sing: Poetry from the Indigenous Americas, Ed. by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke, The Univ. of Arizona Press, 2011, by permission of Linda Hogan and the publisher. Introduction copyright © 2013 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction's author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006.

Family

Grandma B

April 15, 2013


One of my heroes is gone. On Saturday evening, my grandmother, Vivian Burch Holmes, passed away at the age of 97.

My grandma was my hero because she was so full of life, interested in living and in other people right up until the end. Until recently, she went to hospitals and nursing homes to visit and play bingo with the “old people.” She lived independently until November, when the effects of a small stroke made it too hard for her to climb the stairs to her basement-level apartment. I know she found it very difficult to move to an assisted living facility near my aunt, leaving her friends, her church and her independence behind.

I didn’t know my grandma as well as I would have liked. For all of my growing up years, I lived in California and she lived in Virginia. I visited her a time or two, and she came out to California a couple times as well, notably for my high school graduation. She wrote to me regularly, even up until a few weeks before her death. I’m so glad I wrote back and she was able to hear and understand my letter before she died. I always thought of her as Grandma Burch, even when she remarried after my grandfather died. (Her second husband passed away some years ago.)

Happy Birthday, Grandma!

Even with our sporadic contact, I have many happy memories of Grandma. She tried to teach me how to crochet (I never advanced beyond one long string of yarn) and she did teach me how to do candlewicking. One of my favorite memories is of the time she came to visit us in Florida, and my dad and stepmom came from California, when Nick was about 3. It was near Grandma’s birthday, so every time we went out to eat, we told the servers it was her birthday, and they came and sang to her. The best time was at a Mexican restaurant where they made her wear a giant sombrero while they serenaded her. You can see by her big smile she’s enjoying the experience! Other memories of that visit include a trip to Disney World, and a looong toy guitar “concert” given by Nick out on our lanai which everyone endured more or less patiently.

Grandma lived a full life, and died a peaceful death. She was loved and she will be missed. She was not rich, famous or powerful, but she touched and inspired many lives, including my own. I was lucky to be her granddaughter.

Four generations: Nick, Grandma, me, my dad.

Birds

Happy Little Moments: Stopping to Listen

April 12, 2013



I spent a happy hour sitting on our lanai after dinner one night last week. I dipped in and out of my book, but mostly I listened to the birds, trying to identify the different species I saw and heard (I’m terrible at this but enjoy it anyway). A frog’s voice pulsed from somewhere to my left. My dog occasionally announced her presence to the world by randomly barking at nothing in particular. A squirrel jumped onto the screen enclosure with a soft thunk, a couple of people jogged by on the trail. A hawk perched on the limb of an oak, rubbing his (or her) beak against the bark. The insects began an evening chorus.

I noticed that when I stop to listen, the quiet evening is full of small clicks and chirps and rustlings. Noticing them and trying to figure out what they are gave me deep pleasure.

I’ve noticed, too, that when I slow down the pace of my everyday activities, I observe so many details I might have otherwise missed: the way the morning light glows in my bedroom when I open the blinds, the smell of brewing coffee and of the gardenias on my desk, the taste of strawberries and the spacecraft-taking-off-for-Mars clatter of the washing machine. These little details make up the real “fabric of our lives” (with apologies to the cotton industry) and too often I’m oblivious to them. I think I’ll make sitting outside after dinner a regular practice. I can always learn to listen better.

What do you notice when you listen?

National Poetry Month

Veiled Beauty

April 10, 2013


“A poet dares to be just so clear and no clearer…He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it.”
—E.B. White

Remember, April is National Poetry Month. Click here for ways to celebrate. My library has ordered a copy of The Best of the Best American Poetry: 25th Anniversary Edition, and I plan to put in a request for it when it comes in. Another edition I plan to check out is Good Poems for Hard Times, chosen by Garrison Keillor.

In what way will you let poetry into your life this April?

Pets

What I Did on My Vacation

April 05, 2013

Too much.

My spring break wasn’t really a vacation—my son had already had his school break and we didn’t go anywhere, but I recognized that I needed a break from blogging and took one. I didn’t try to fill the days—in fact, I tried to empty them! But life, as usual, got in the way. While I was “taking a break,” Scout had some problems and had to go to the vet (she’s feeling better now) and we helped my son complete a community service project which involved making 1000 peanut butter and jelly sandwiches to be distributed to the hungry and homeless. This is what 1000 sandwiches looks like:



I did manage to do a little extra reading (Mr. Skeffington, The Olive Grove),   ride Tank several times and make a new vision board (better late than never). And—ta da—I finished painting my sketches from Sunken Gardens. 


The original sketch:


Have you noticed that when you cut back on doing one thing, something else leaps forward to take its place? The time I spend writing posts and visiting other people’s blogs was easily consumed by other tasks, and by the end of the week, I didn’t really feel like I’d had a break. I extended the break into the first part of this week, and what do you know? I spent hours on Monday doing errands. Clearly, I need to work on the concept of taking a break.

This non-break taught me something about myself that I already sort of knew: I feel guilty if I’m not constantly working to contribute in some way. Since I don’t have a paying job, I drive myself to work for the family nearly constantly. I have a terribly hard time allowing myself the time I need for study, thought and yes, doing nothing, in service of feeding my creativity and my ultimate writing goals which I am ashamed to say have almost completely fallen into obscurity. I feel bad about this, and instead of rerouting my energies to fix it, I go for the more obvious (and endless) to-do list where I can mark off things achieved and actually see a result—a bathroom cleaned, groceries in the fridge, etc. I’m having a hard time letting go of tangible results for intangible ones.

I’ve written about this before, and as you can see I haven’t come up with a solution yet. I’m not giving up, though—I will figure this out! In the meantime, I’ll try to cut myself some slack, to do a little bit less in order to do more, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll plan a vacation that really will be a vacation!