If the year were a car, someone just stepped on the gas.
We’re accelerating—streaking down the road toward the end of the race that is
2015.
How did that happen? Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was
exploring in Georgia? Or a couple of weeks ago that I was interrupting winter? Even though we’re only a few days into December, I've already enjoyed many simple pleasures and everyday adventures. For
instance:
We’re expecting out of town relatives this weekend, so we
decorated the house for the holidays. We haven’t done this since Prudy joined the household for this reason:
You might think that she’d stay out of the tree now that
she’s a big ol’ cat rather than a tiny little kitten. You would be wrong. I
remove her from the tree several times every day. Her general attitude seems to
be, “How kind of you to place this giant cat toy in the family room!” My
husband and son have a bet going on how many ornaments she’ll break (only one
so far but it’s early days yet). Our most special or sentimental ornaments are
safely displayed where she can’t get to them, but I imagine the tree will be
somewhat ragged by the end of the month if she continues to be fascinated by
it.
I’ve been sulking about the weather, which remains
stubbornly and unseasonably warm and humid. I predict simultaneous use of the
central air and the fireplace on Christmas.
I saw Kinky Boots at the Straz Center for the
Performing Arts.
I’ve had to start my horse on a fat supplement because he
needs to gain some weight in preparation for the cold weather that will,
eventually, I hope, come. That’s just all kinds of unfair.
I’ve been reading a lot. I just finished the delightful Cold Comfort Farm, I’m reading (or rereading) Elizabeth Peters’ Vicky Bliss novels, and I’ve started reading graphic memoirs (is that a thing?)—An Age of License (Lucy Knisley), and Can’t We Talk About Something More Pleasant? (Roz Chast). My reading challenges languish while I read at whim.
Despite the full schedule (notice I didn’t say busy), I’m doing my
best to think about what I’m doing and enjoy it, instead of rushing through it.
No need to make that car go any faster!
What have you been up to lately? What plans do you have for the end of the year?
Introduction by Ted Kooser: This may be the only poem ever written in which a person claps the mud from a pair of shoes! Michael McFee’s poetry is just that original, in all of his books. His most recent is That Was Oasis (Carnegie Mellon Univ. Press, 2012), and he lives in North Carolina.
Ovation
He stood on his stoop
and clapped her sneakers together
hard, a sharp report,
smacking right sole against left,
trying to shock the mud
from each complicated tread,
spanking those expensive footprints
until clay flakes and plus
ticked onto the boxwood’s leaves
like a light filthy sleet
from the rubber craters and crannies
where they stuck weeks ago,
until her shoes were banged clean
though that didn’t stop
his stiff-armed slow-motion applause
with her feet’s emptied gloves,
slapping mate against mate
without missing a beat,
half-wishing that hollow sound
echoing off their neighbors’ houses
could call her back.
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 ©2010 by Michael McFee, “Ovation,” (River Styx
83, 2010). Poem reprinted by permission of Michael McFee and the publisher.
Introduction copyright © 2015 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. We do not accept unsolicited
submissions.
Mary GrandPre |
On Saturday afternoon, Laure Ferlita and I attended a talk
by illustrator Mary GrandPre sponsored by our local arts council. Though
GrandPre is probably best known for her illustrations for the Harry Potter books, she’s illustrated seven picture books as well as created illustrations
for many editorial and advertising clients.
GrandPre was born in South Dakota, but her family moved to
Minnesota when she was still a baby. She began drawing at age 5, went through a
“Salvador Dali phase,” and later practiced drawing by copying black and white
photos from the encyclopedia. After attending the Minneapolis College of Art
and Design, she paid her dues waiting tables as she built her portfolio and
began to attract clients. Eventually she moved into illustrating children’s
books, and it was her first one, Chin Yu Min and the Ginger Cat, that
attracted the attention of executives at Scholastic, Inc., who were looking for
an illustrator for a book about a young wizard. At first she planned to turn
down the job because she was already busy, she told us, but after the publisher
encouraged her to read the manuscript, she changed her mind. As she told Communications Arts Magazine, “It sounded like
a nice job, so I said ‘sure.’ I
presented three cover sketches, they chose one, and I was pretty happy with
everything. They were great to work with, and I think I remember them saying
there might be more. At the time, it just seemed like another job.” GrandPre is
grateful for the popularity of Harry Potter, but she’s just as proud of (and
deservedly so) her other work, which includes The Noisy Paint Box, The Carnival of the Animals and Henry and Pawl and the Round Yellow Ball, a project she worked on with her husband, Tom.
Sketches from the creation of The Noisy Paint Box |
I knew nothing about the process of illustrating books, so I
was interested in how she described it. After researching her topic, she begins
sketching quickly, often using tracing paper and ink. Sometimes, she said, she
does get stuck, especially at the beginning of the process. She tries not to
get discouraged if she ends up with nothing usable after a day of work,
believing that there are no wasted days. “The next day will be better because
of today,” she said. After some back and forth with the art director of the
project, the sketches are finalized. She likes to have three to four months to
complete the final paintings. She has worked in pastels, acrylics, oils, and
charcoal, and has used collage in at least one of her projects.
I was impressed with how kindly and patiently she answered
audience questions that ranged from “How can I encourage my child who loves to
draw?” to “I’m writing a children’s book—how do I find a publisher?” After her
talk, we were able to examine some of her work close up, and it was beautiful.
She grew up attending Catholic school and church, and she mentioned that one of
her early influences was the glow of the light coming through stained glass
windows. I think that same glow fills her work.
GrandPre tries to do something different in each project.
It’s important to her to keep growing. “Artists need to take risks,” she said.
“I want to be challenged and try new things. If not, I’d rather wait on
tables.”
You can learn more about Mary GrandPre and see some of her
work on her website, marygrandpre.com.
After six years, it’s time for a change. This blog was never
intended to make money (except in my wildest fantasies), and good thing,
too, because it’s been a crashing failure in that regard. It was intended to be
a creative outlet for me, and a way to make connections with other like-minded
people. In that regard, it’s been a complete success. But now it’s time for me
to put my primary writing focus elsewhere—on building my freelancing business.
You may have noticed a couple of other changes as well: I’ve updated “About Me”
and streamlined the sidebars. (Don’t worry if your blog was in my sidebar—I’ve
added it to my feed reader and still plan to visit often!)
I love writing for Catching Happiness and will continue to
post here, just not quite as often. My plan right now is to post once or twice
a week instead of two to three times a week. I’ll continue to share simple
pleasures and everyday adventures, as well as bits of happiness news and other
happy little things. I still love to hear from you, so please share whatever is
on your mind via the comments section, or by contacting me directly. Thank you
for taking the time to visit and comment over these past years—your words mean
more to me than you know.
“For
most of life, nothing wonderful happens. If you don’t enjoy getting up and
working and finishing your work and sitting down to a meal with family or
friends, then the chances are you’re not going to be very happy. If someone
bases his happiness on major events like a great job, huge amounts of money, a
flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that person isn’t going to be
happy much of the time. If, on the other hand, happiness depends on a good
breakfast, flowers in the yard, a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to
live with quite a bit of happiness.”
—Andy Rooney
It’s funny how things start. In yoga class, the teacher
offered us a dab of a stress-relieving essential oil during our final resting
pose. I don’t know if it alleviated my stress (which was pretty low after
practicing yoga for an hour), but it smelled lovely. In the back of my mind, I
decided I wanted to buy a bottle of that scent to have on hand, simply because
it smelled good.
Then, after thus stimulating my reticular activating system,
I began to see information about essential oils and aromatherapy everywhere.
Friends began to use and sell different brands of oils. I remembered that one friend of mine used essential oils on her horse to help calm her after another
friend asked me about trying them on a pony at our barn who is especially high
strung. I wondered if using essential oils in a diffuser would make our house
smell better (we rarely open the windows because of the humidity so I think it
smells stale in here) and maybe even boost our moods and immune systems. Maybe
I could find some essential oils to improve my ability to think and concentrate
when I’m writing!
So with my mom’s help, for my birthday I bought a diffuser,
a set of oils for the aromatherapy beginner, and a book on basic aromatherapy.
Since then, I’ve been experimenting with the oils and the diffuser and have
found several combinations I like: eucalyptus and lemon for the kitchen,
peppermint for my office, lavender in our bedroom at night. I only have one
diffuser, so I move it around the house with me as needed. I plan to use the
oils in making cleaning solutions for the house, and also find a way to use
them in my car—either a diffuser meant for the car, or simply a cotton ball
with a bit of oil on it. I have a lot to learn about what each oil is good for
(and I still haven’t bought that first bottle that started all this) but I’m
enjoying the simple pleasure of finding out. Essential oils are my newest happy
little thing!
What’s your newest happy little thing?
Photo courtesy picaland |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: During World War II the government endorsed the publication of inexpensive paperbacks for persons serving overseas. Jehanne Dubrow, who lives and teaches in Maryland and whose husband is a naval officer, here shows us one of those pocket-sized volumes. This poet's latest book is The Arranged Marriage, (University of New Mexico Press, 2015).
Armed Services Editions
My copy of The Fireside Book of Verse
is as the seller promised—the stapled spine,
the paper aged to Army tan—no worse
for wear, given the cost of its design,
six cents to make and printed on a press
once used for magazines and pulp. This book
was never meant to last a war much less
three quarters of a century.
I
look
for evidence of all the men who scanned
these lines, crouched down in holes or lying in
their racks. I read the poems secondhand.
Someone has creased the page. Did he begin
then stop to sleep? to clean his gun perhaps?
to listen to the bugler playing taps?
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 ©2015 by Jehanne Dubrow, “Armed Services Editions,” (Bellevue Literary Review, Vol. 15, no. 2, 2015). Poem reprinted by permission of Jehanne Dubrow and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2015 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. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
Albert Camus said, “You will never be happy if you continue
to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are
looking for the meaning of life.” Does this mean we shouldn’t try to seek ways
to be happier? Should we just “get over it” and live the life before us?
Well, that depends on what we mean by happiness.
If we’re confusing happiness with pleasure, maybe. Continual
chasing of pleasure and feel-good moments will not bring deep and lasting
happiness. Being afraid of or avoiding negative emotions will also backfire,
because frankly, no life is devoid of experiences that feel sad or scary and
there is a lot to be learned from those experiences. But happiness as I define it
here on the blog isn’t just pleasure—it’s a deeper, wider, more
all-encompassing emotion. An emotion that includes joy and pleasure, but also
satisfaction after achieving something worthwhile, or living up to my ideals in
a difficult situation. It also encompasses contentment and a feeling of
well-being. So many facets of happiness make achieving it easier as well as
more worthwhile.
We run into trouble when we feel we should always
feel happy. Negative feelings are normal. Thinking we shouldn’t have them can
make us even more miserable. We shouldn’t pursue feelings of happiness at the
expense of everything else. That would be like eating only chocolate and never
eating spinach and expecting to be healthy. Maybe the spinach doesn’t taste as
good as the chocolate (at least to me it doesn’t), but it offers nutrients
chocolate doesn’t. I want to be strong and healthy in both body and mind, and I
can’t do that if I only eat chocolate…or pursue pleasure. We should be open and
accepting of the richness of all our emotions, even times of sadness, fear, boredom,
or frustration. These emotions often bear a message of change, or wake us up
from sleepwalking through life.
I can’t say that I’ve been especially happy the past two
weeks. And yet—I have. I’m heartbroken over losing our beloved family dog, but
somehow the breaking open of my heart has allowed in the caring and
understanding of others, and in those moments, I’ve felt loved by and connected
to them in ways I hadn’t before. The crack in my heart has released my feelings
of love and gratitude for those people, and for the many other rich gifts in my
life.
What does pursuing happiness mean to you?
Photo courtesy Autumn Mott |
“Nearly everything
we’re afraid of is going to happen anyway, so what’s to fear? There is no
secure or unchanging ground, and we make ourselves safe only when we see and
accept the way life is. Utterly spontaneous and impermanent. When it is time to
laugh, we laugh. When it is time to weep, we weep. We are cheated of nothing in
life except that from which we withhold ourselves by ego’s narrow bounds.”
—Karen Maezen
Miller, Hand Wash Cold
30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge: 2015 Edition
A Month to Be Grateful: The 2015 30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge
November 02, 2015
I’m joining Dani DiPirro’s 30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge
again this year (I wrote about last year’s here and here). I figure
concentrating on what I have and am grateful for will ease the pain of what I’ve lost. Plus it’s fun!
I enjoy and welcome the chance to slow down and ponder the
many things I’m grateful for and, I admit, take for granted. I’ll post my daily
entry on Facebook and on Instagram if any of you want to follow along. If you
want to join in, click here for DiPirro’s post announcing the challenge, and here
for the list of prompts.
Today’s theme is “Inspiration.” So many things inspire me in
different ways that it’s hard to pick just one. I’m inspired by the beauty of
nature, by music, and by people I look up to, just to name a few. Since I’ve
been reading the book What Makes Olga Run? I’m especially grateful for
the inspiration of older women who live vibrant, exciting lives on their own
terms. Reading about Olga Kotelko makes me push myself just a little harder
during HIIT class and encourages me to believe that getting older doesn’t have
to mean I can’t do the things I want to do anymore. While I have no desire to
be a master’s level track athlete like Olga, I do want to be able to walk,
bike, ride Tank, and do yoga for as long as possible. I don’t want to be held
back from doing the things I want to do because my body is too weak or out of
shape to allow me to. Seeing and reading about examples of people still active
and vital in their 90s inspires me to believe I can be that way, too. (Ms.
Kotelko died in June of 2014 at age 95. You can read more of her story here.)
“Until one has loved
an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”
—Anatole France
I have sad news to share today. We lost
our little dog, Scout, last Saturday, and we are deep in sorrow. She was 16 ½ years old. I apologize to those of you I know personally if I
haven’t shared this news with you directly. It’s because I haven’t been able to
face talking about it with you—I cry every time I have to share the news.
The past six months have been difficult. Scout was deaf;
almost blind from cataracts; suffered from terrible nasal allergies that made
her sneeze, wheeze and cough; and she had “doggy dementia.” She rarely made it
through a night without getting up to relieve herself, and afterward she often
wandered through the house, getting stuck behind toilets, doors, and pieces of
furniture. She occasionally got lost in the backyard she patrolled for so many
years and had to be rescued. She required medicating several times a day and
became agitated if her routine was disturbed. At the same time, she ate well,
bounced around the house a little every day, and there was life in her eyes. We
knew her days were numbered and tried hard to make them comfortable and happy.
She deserved it.
Scout's the one licking his face |
Scout came home with us as an eight-week-old puppy after
“choosing” Nick (we’d intended to bring home a different puppy from the litter,
but she followed him around and he fell in love with her). The two of them were
best buddies from day one. Once she was house trained, she slept in his bed
with him at night. They dug holes together and swam in the pool, and she joined
in any game in which he was participating. She knew several tricks, including
sit, shake hands, roll over and play dead—dropping onto her side if you pointed
your index finger at her and said, “Bang!”—though sometimes you had to “shoot”
her several times. She caught and killed plenty of squirrels and snakes,
including more than one coral snake. (In a way, we were surprised she didn’t
meet an untimely end since she was a typical Jack Russell Terrier—a
tough little dog with a big dog’s attitude.) She received Christmas presents and birthday parties, just like the member of the family she was. The last few years of her life,
she finally slowed down and preferred snoozing in her own dog bed to sleeping
with a human, and spent more of her daylight hours sleeping than playing.
We are each coping in our own ways. The guys are able to leave
the house to go to work every day, while I struggle with looking for her and
not seeing her, with cleaning up her nose prints on the window, washing her dog
bed, and disposing of all her supplements and medications. Yesterday I thought
I heard her sneeze in the next room and realized it was just my imagination. I
know that life will eventually feel beautiful again and that Scout’s memory
won’t hurt anymore. Right now, though, thinking of her is equal parts love and
pain.
Scout was a happy dog through her whole life, and she brought countless hours of
happiness to our family. We were lucky to have each other, and we’ll never,
ever forget her.
*Queen Elizabeth II
“Grief can be the garden of compassion. If you keep your
heart open through everything, your pain can become your greatest ally in your
life’s search for love and wisdom.”
—Rumi
Happy Friday to you—I hope you’re enjoying some lovely fall
weather wherever you are. After a few days of cool-ish weather, we’re back in
the high 80s with humidity. It’s time for me to bathe and clip Tank before he
melts into a puddle. Here are a few happy links for you to explore while I cope
with my hairy beast.
For those of us who move forward best by taking baby steps:
“5 Ways to Create a Life You Love Without Making a Major Change.” Also remember this: “It’s okay to live—and love—the life you
have.” Sometimes we forget to appreciate what we already have.
The world is full of good things. Here are 99 of them.
“The Magic of Going Slow” has so much in it that resonates
with me right now. For instance, “Nothing truly great has ever come out of
stress” and “Always choose the path that feels right and kind in the moment.
Happiness first, awareness first. Then decision and action.”
Most of us (all of us?) have an inner critic who gives us
trouble. Check out “Five Ways to Silence Your Inner Critic” for ways to boost
your confidence. (I wrote a similar piece: “Shut Up, Inner Critic.”)
Every now and then, it’s helpful to check in with ourselves
to see if we’re living in a fashion that supports and feeds our bodies, minds,
and spirits. Sandra Pawula’s “9 Questions to Liberate the Real You,” can help
you evaluate how you’re doing.
The marvelous Elizabeth Gilbert has a new book out, Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. Her interview with Marie Forleo is
worth a watch (caution: some adult language):
And just in case you can’t wait another minute to read something I wrote, here’s your chance: “Driving I-5 in the USA,” my entry for the wesaidgotravel.com writing contest.
That’s right—today (Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2015) is the day
Marty McFly time-traveled to in the second of the Back to the Future movies,
the imaginatively named Back to the Future II.
While we’re not zipping around on hoverboards or in flying cars, we do have a few of the futuristic (in
1989) tech advances mentioned in the movie, including video calls and
fingerprint technology. And as of this writing, the Cubs are still in the
playoffs. Barely.
The Back to the Future movies were great fun when
they came out—and they might just warrant a rewatch, especially since we are
now “living in the future.”
That’s heavy.
If you enjoyed the Back to the Future movies, which was your favorite?
Would you describe yourself as busy? Most of us do—and most
of us are. Most of us have considerably more to do than we have time for, at
work, at home, and even in our leisure hours. That’s the way our culture has
been set up, and it’s become a common way for us to think about ourselves. And
even though we sometimes complain about being too busy, secretly we’re often
just a little proud of how in demand we are. Busyness is often something we’ve
chosen.
Why do we like being busy? Busy feels important. Being busy
excuses us from things outside our comfort zones, or things we don’t want to do
(“Oh, I’m so busy, I just don’t have time for…”). Busy keeps us from thinking
too deeply about our lives and whether or not we’re happy.
I’ve decided I don’t like being busy. Busy makes me feel
rushed and out of control, two feelings I hate. Busy makes me feel stressed and
inadequate. When I tell myself I have a busy day ahead, I rush through it,
trying to get everything on my to-do list done, when really what I should do is
take a careful look at everything on the list, and winnow it down into
something manageable. This might mean organizing errands into an efficient
order, putting something off to another day, or even skipping it altogether
(newsflash: nobody came to arrest me when I didn’t put up the fall decorations
this year).
My upcoming week is a good example. In addition to all the
things I already do, I have a hair cut, an appointment with a saddle fitter,
and an evening out with a friend scheduled. I’ve also got several errands to do
that I’ve already put off at least once, including buying office supplies,
making a deposit, and going to the library to pick up and drop off books.
The reality is I can handle all this in a state of
harassment, feeling overwhelmed and “busy,” or I can change my attitude, plan
my days carefully, and stay in the moment instead of looking too far ahead. I
can simplify in other areas by planning less complicated meals or skipping
certain household chores, and I can build in buffer time to recover. Most
important of all, I can simply refuse to rush. If it turns out that
everything on my list simply can’t get done, I’m going to jettison the least
important thing(s) and not worry about it. (But that haircut is definitely
happening!)
In addition to changing my attitude towards what I do, I’m
also experimenting with the following ways to banish the feeling of busy:
- Making time for idleness. That means doing nothing. Not reading, not watching TV or web surfing. Even just for a few minutes a day. Tim Kreider writes in “The Busy Trap”: “Idleness is not just a vacation, an indulgence or a vice; it is as indispensable to the brain as vitamin D is to the body, and deprived of it we suffer a mental affliction as disfiguring as rickets.”
- Not allowing work to bleed into leisure time. I find this especially hard since I work and play at home. What I’m trying is setting certain hours where I will only do leisure activities, whether it be reading, sketching, watching something on TV, etc. I won’t try to fold laundry, read emails, brainstorm article ideas, or clean the kitchen at the same time.
- Choosing my top three most important tasks and making sure they get done. Then the rest of the day is cake. (And if I finish early, instead of adding more work to my list, why not add more play? I should reward myself for my efficiency!)
- Becoming more mindful of what makes it on to my to-do list in the first place.
So what am I going to replace busy with? Some terms I’ve
heard others use to describe their lives include diverse, focused, rich,
multi-layered, and full. These words have a much different feel than busy. I
think I like full the best. A full life makes me feel happy.
At this time of year especially, we seem to gear up and
become whirling dervishes of action, filling our days with activity and
busyness in the face of the oncoming holidays. Instead of taking on more and
more, why not take at least one thing off the to-do list today? How does that
feel?
Baby cacao tree and pods |
This edition of Field Trip Friday takes us to Kissimmee, FL,
just outside of Orlando, where my partner in adventure Laure Ferlita and I
“forced” ourselves to join a chocolate factory tour at Chocolate Kingdom. The
tour was interactive, which means we got to taste things!
Though the tour was a bit goofy (somewhat touristy and aimed
at children), our guide was cute and enthusiastic, imparting tons of
interesting facts and history, and information on how chocolate goes from cacao
bean to delicious treat. We also ordered custom chocolate bars which they made
in front of us. I chose dark chocolate, pecans and caramel. Yum.
I learned quite a bit about chocolate. For instance:
Chocolate is made from a seed that comes from a fruit tree.
The name of the tree, Theobroma Cacao, means “Food of the Gods.” The
seeds/beans grow in a football-shaped pod. “Cacao” (ka-KOW) is the raw
unprocessed form, which will later be called “cocoa” after processing. Each
tree produces about 2,500 beans a year, and it takes about 400 cacao beans to
make one pound of chocolate. Though it is native to Central and South America
and grows throughout the tropics, about 70 percent of cocoa comes from West
Africa, according to the National Confectioners Association’s Chocolate
Council.
Cacao fruit (photo courtesy Darias Martin) |
Cacao pods mature throughout the year, and contain about 30
to 40 beans covered in a sticky pulp, which is also eaten and used in drinks.
At this point, the beans themselves are bitter. After the beans are harvested,
they are fermented (sweetening the flavor and making them more chocolatey),
dried in the sun, and shipped to a factory. Factory workers sift the beans,
weigh them, and sort them by type. They are roasted, cracked and winnowed, and
the resulting pieces of bean are called “nibs.” We tasted some of these on the
tour, and while they’re not sweet or even very chocolatey-tasting, I liked the
flavor—they’d be good on ice cream.
Nibs |
The nibs are crushed and ground into chocolate liquor (there
is no alcoholic content, despite the name). The liquor can then be crushed in a
press to remove the cocoa butter (eventually producing cocoa powder), or be
made into chocolate with the addition of sugar, vanilla, more cocoa butter, and milk (for milk chocolate). This chocolate will be refined, mixed, and otherwise processed
to produce the chocolate we eat.
Other miscellaneous facts I found interesting:
Cacao beans were used as currency in early Mesoamerica.
Chocolate can have notes of berry, citrus, black licorice,
cinnamon, mushroom, toast, and other flavors, according to one professional chocolate taster. Where the chocolate was grown, under what conditions, and how
it was processed helps to determine what flavors the chocolate will have.
The melting point of cocoa butter is just below our body
temperature of 98.6—that’s why it melts in our mouths.
Sadly, the chocolate I brought home after the tour is just a
memory. But, I hear Chocolate Kingdom participates in a Festival of Chocolate every year
in Tampa—sign me up!
What’s your favorite chocolate treat?
Photo courtesy Dan O'Connell |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: I’ve seen many poems
about the atomic bomb drills that schoolchildren were put through during the
Cold War, but this one reaches beyond that experience. John Philip Johnson
lives and writes in Nebraska, and has an illustrated book of poems, Stairs
Appear in a Hole Outside of Town.
There Have Come Soft Rains
In kindergarten during the Cold War,
mid-day late bells jolted us,
sending us single file into the hallway,
where we sat, pressing our heads
between our knees, waiting.
During one of the bomb drills,
Annette was standing.
My mother said I would talk on and on
about her, about how pretty she was.
I still remember her that day,
curly hair and pretty dress,
looking perturbed the way
little children do.
Why Annette? There’s nothing
to be upset about—
The bombs won’t get us,
I’ve seen what’s to come—
it is the days, the steady
pounding of days,
like gentle rain,
that will be our undoing.
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 ©2014 by John Philip Johnson, “There Have Come Soft Rains,” from
Rattle, (No. 45, Fall 2014). Poem reprinted by permission of John Philip
Johnson and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2015 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. We do
not accept unsolicited manuscripts.
Photo courtesy Ryan McGuire |
“One should respect public opinion insofar as is necessary
to avoid starvation and keep out of prison, but anything that goes beyond this
is voluntary submission to an unnecessary tyranny.”
—Bertrand Russell
I’ve been a good girl all my life. I (mostly) obeyed my
parents, got good grades, did my best to fit in and please others. As an adult,
I generally follow the rules, even if no one is watching. And while I think it
is a good idea to be a law-abiding citizen, rules—especially unwritten,
unspoken ones—can be taken too seriously. They can lock us into behaviors and
beliefs that aren’t true, don’t serve us, and don’t reflect our deepest values.
Rules can become tyrants. Here’s an example: Last week, I
returned a DVD to the library without watching it, thus breaking my
unspoken rule: once you check something out, you must read/watch it.
When I dropped the DVD into the return slot, I felt a sense of relief and
freedom all out of proportion to the act. This made me wonder, what other
unspoken rules complicate my life and keep me from the happiness I want?
I know I can be too rigid. What am I afraid of? That once
freed from my rules I’ll run wild? Maybe. “Without rules, we may feel more
vulnerable as if the looseness and lack of structure will lead us toward
defeat,” wrote Leslie Levine in Ice Cream for Breakfast. “But rules can
also be constricting, keeping us from stretching or even soaring every once in
a while. If we can improvise—make up the rules as we go—it becomes easier to
reach a middle ground, a place where rules help us grow and thrive.”
In her book Life Is a Verb, Patti Digh tells a funny
story about the time she tried to order toast and a side of avocado slices in
the middle of the afternoon at a restaurant and was told by the waiter that it
would break all the rules to serve her those things—it was past toast time, and
sides were only available with entrees. There are “toast rules”? she wondered.
She wrote, “It’s one thing to acknowledge the absurdity of
other people’s rules; it’s another thing altogether to recognize and own the
absurdity of the rules we’ve made up (helpful hint: They’re all made up, some
so ingrained that we can no longer see they are Toast Rules). So when a rule
pops to the surface, see it for the Toast Rule it is, made up to serve some
social norm that is itself made up—or to serve the convenience of a waiter,
where waiter stands for ‘person’ or ‘group.’”
Franklin Delano Roosevelt said, “Rules are not necessarily
sacred, principles are.” I think this is a useful distinction. I aspire to live
by principles like treat other people the way you want to be treated and be
kind. These reflect principles I value, that benefit me as well as others.
Never return a book or DVD to the library without reading or watching it? Not
so much.
Let’s examine our rules. Do they still work and have value?
Rules often start with: I can’t or I should. Think twice every time those words
start a sentence. We may be bumping up against a rule that no longer serves us.
Levine wrote: “Even our capacity for uncontrollable laughter
is somehow diminished by the rules that govern adulthood. Instead of giving
ourselves permission to be joyful and do the things that make us happy, we
arbitrarily create rules that prevent us from enjoying as much as we can. So
instead of lingering in the tub…, we bathe as fast as we can. Instead of
celebrating our own birthdays…, we minimize the day and let it pass almost
unnoticed. These made-up rules may give us some order in the short term but
ultimately shortchange what could be a more fulfilling and fun life.”
What rules do you live by? What rules do you want to break?
“If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.”
—Katherine
Hepburn
Photo courtesy Gerd Altmann |
In 1963, commercial artist Harvey Ball created the image of
a smiley face for a “friendship campaign” for employees of an insurance
company. The image was to be used on buttons, desk cards and posters. He was
paid $240 for the drawing, which he said took about 10 minutes. To everyone’s
surprise, this image became wildly popular in the 60s and 70s, so much so that
Ball became concerned that the over-commercialization of the image had hidden
its original purpose as a symbol of friendship and good cheer. In 1999, he
declared that the first Friday in October should be World Smile Day, a day
devoted to smiles and kind acts. His hometown of Worcester, MA, celebrated, and
eventually events commemorating World Smile Day spread throughout the world.
Following Ball’s death, the Harvey Ball World Smile Foundation was established in 2001 to honor him and continue sponsoring World
Smile Day as well as supporting other grassroots charitable activities.
It’s simple to be part of World Smile Day: “Do an act of
kindness. Help one person smile.”
Share your experiences on Facebook or Twitter, or just with those you love. And happy World Smile Day!
Photo courtesy Stefanus Martanto Setyo Husodo |
“Paying close
attention to those things that bring us joy is critical to creating a life that
we love. Whether it’s making things, hiking, studying, or working with
people…if it feeds our soul, gives us energy, transports us out of time and
into a space of flow…we are meant to do more of these things. These gifts help make us the
unique individuals we are. These gifts energize us, nurture us, and move us to
a place where the fullness of our joy spills over to others. I wish I could
banish the guilt most of must feel over spending time doing the things we
enjoy!”
—Kathy Davis, Scatter
Joy
It’s a gray Monday morning. It’s still hot and humid.
My Tampa Bay Rays are playing the last few games of their season, trying to
avoid being last in their division. It was too cloudy last night for me to see
the lunar eclipse, which I had been looking forward to. Today I just feel
generally grumpy. I have plenty to do, but I’d rather go to bed with a stack of
books.
On days like this, I remind myself that these are not real
problems. Having no place to sleep and not enough to eat, those are
problems. But when I feel grumpy, it doesn’t make me less grumpy to be told I
have no reason to be grumpy. Instead, I’m kind to myself, working into my day
some of the simple pleasures I love most. For instance, today I’m enjoying:
A Pumpkin Spice Latte, purchased with the last of a gift
card from my son.
Chris Mann’s voice.
A good cuddle with her:
And her:
A literal stack of books from my library (I went overboard
on the hold requests):
Since 2012 after reading 168 Hours, by Laura Vanderkam, I’ve periodically used a time log to get a sense of where my time goes each day. I track my time for one week, and I always find it eye-opening. This time I took it one step farther by asking myself the three questions Vanderkam suggests we ask when evaluating time logs: What do I like about my schedule? What do I want to do more of with my time? What do I want to spend less time doing?
What do I like about my schedule?
I am incredibly lucky to be in charge of my schedule. I
don’t go to an office every day to work for someone else, and since my son is
grown, my days no longer revolve around his school and activities. My
appointments and obligations are mostly ones I’ve chosen. I have the
flexibility to experiment with my schedule, shuffling blocks of time for
various activities: writing, errands, exercise, barn time, household chores and
so on.
What do I want to do more of with my time?
I want to write more and read more. Since I’ve decided to
get serious about my writing again, I’m shooting for 20 hours a week spent
writing, marketing, and educating myself on either topics I want to write about
or ways to improve my writing. I want chunks of time for reading during the day
instead of waiting until evening when I’m too mentally tired. I want to add an
occasional artist’s date to my writing schedule, not in addition to the time
I’ve allotted for writing, but as a part of it—filling the well.
I also want to spend more time walking outdoors and with
Tank when the weather finally cools off. That will require some shifting of
working hours.
What do I want to spend less time doing?
Watching TV. I enjoy watching a few shows and the occasional
movie with my husband, but I find that I keep watching when our show finishes
and suddenly two hours (or more) has gone by.
Cooking and working in the kitchen. We eat at home 99
percent of the time, and I do most of the cooking. I don’t love cooking, but we
want to eat healthfully, so I try to make most of our meals myself. I spend a
great deal of time (at least a couple of hours a day) in the kitchen, between
making meals and cleaning up after them. How can I simplify our meals and clean
up so that I’m not spending so much time in the kitchen?
Understanding how I actually use my time (rather than
how I think I do) helps me work better and play better. I realize how
much control I have over my schedule, and I’m reminded of how productive I
really can be, and that yes, I do spend time doing things I love: playing with
Tank, reading, eating dinner with my husband every night. My time log is a
snapshot of a full and interesting life—and that makes me happy.
Tracking your time can be a huge help if you feel like
you’re spinning your wheels or you have no idea where your time goes.
Evaluating the results of your time tracking can help you see what’s working
well, what isn’t, and if there are any unnecessary activities sneaking in. If
you want to try time tracking, you can download Vanderkam’s time log here.
What do you want to do more of with your time? What do you want to spend less time doing?
Photo courtesy Joan Greenman |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: In this fascinating poem by the California poet, Jane Hirshfield, the speaker discovers that through paying attention to an event she has become part of it, has indeed become inseparable from the event and its implications. This is more than an act of empathy. It speaks, in my reading of it, to the perception of an order into which all creatures and events are fitted, and are essential.
The Woodpecker Keeps Returning
The woodpecker keeps returning
to drill the house wall.
Put a pie plate over one place, he chooses another.
There is nothing good to eat there:
he has found in the
house
a resonant billboard to post his intentions,
his voluble strength as provider.
But where is the female he drums for? Where?
I ask this, who am myself the ruined siding,
the handsome red-capped bird, the missing mate.
Poem copyright © 2005 by Jane Hirshfield from her
forthcoming book “After” (Harper Collins, 2006), and reprinted by permission of
the author. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library
of Congress and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska,
Lincoln. American Life in Poetry ©2005 The Poetry Foundation Contact:
alp@poetryfoundation.org This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.
Photo courtesy Amanda Sandlin |
This weekend I watched the movie Wild, based on
Cheryl Strayed’s book about her experiences hiking the Pacific Crest Trail
(PCT) in an effort to put her life back together following personal tragedy.
While watching, my first thought was: I couldn’t do that. I’m just not
physically and mentally tough enough to undertake a three-month, 1,000-mile hike
through the wilderness by myself.
Good thing for me, I don’t have to. Instead of feeling inadequate, I remembered I have absolutely no
desire to try grueling challenges like hiking
the PCT (and I’m also blessed not to be coping with the
amount of trauma and drama Strayed was).
My adventures don’t need to look like Cheryl Strayed’s, or
yours, or anyone else’s. Adventures don’t have to be big, scary undertakings to be
adventurous. Adventure is not one-size-fits-all. Little adventures—everyday
adventures as I call them—add immeasurable happiness to life. While bigger
adventures may be more life-changing, everyday adventures (the new class, the trip
to the beach at sunset, the visit to the farmer’s market, or watching for the
next “blood moon,” for instance) are much more accessible to most people.
Adventures, small and large, are important because they open
the mind, build confidence, and give the remembering self something to savor.
When we stop waiting for the next big adventure and start incorporating
everyday adventure into our lives, we’ll be happier for it.
Make a list of everyday adventures you want to try—and come
back here to share with us!
Photo courtesy Tim Becker |
Signs of fall:
Changing leaves (nope).
A nip in the air (haha—nope).
Sweater weather (I think we’ve established this already…no
and no and no).
Pumpkin everywhere (yes)!
Here in Florida, fall won’t start for another month at
least, and that’s if we’re lucky. We don’t have changing leaves, but we do have
pumpkin. Pumpkin bread, pumpkin bagels, and Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Lattes. While
I’m waiting for fall, my favorite season, I’ll make pumpkin pie cookie dough energy balls
and pumpkin cranberry bread. And yes, I will indulge in a Starbucks Pumpkin
Spice Latte. (Rumor has it Pumpkin Spice Lattes now contain some real pumpkin!)
What are your favorite happy little things of fall?
“Like the rest of the
natural world, human beings go through seasons. At one point, we are in the
full bloom of summer, harvesting, committed, in abundance. Then, naturally,
there is an autumnal time of falling away, disillusionment, stagnation, a
shedding of what has been used up. Then must come the fallowness and dormancy
of winter, death, rest. Eventually…there is a great melting into muck and mud,
which, if one can persevere, opens naturally into an abundant yellow-green time,
when everything is possible and horizons open. Consider your own passion for a
moment. Is it hiding under the softest fall of snow, or going through a raw
shedding? And is your sense of purpose trembling with spring green or flaming
in full harvest?”
—Dawna Markova,
I Will Not Die an Unlived Life
Photo courtesy Dustin Lee |
Today’s post is more of an announcement than a true post,
but it’s definitely an everyday adventure and I want to share it with you. Over
the past few weeks, I’ve mentioned revitalizing my freelance writing career,
steep learning curves, etc. I’m still learning—I suspect I always will be—but
finally, I’m officially open for business at kathyajohnsonwriter.com.
My first love is writing articles, both print and online,
and I plan to continue to pursue those opportunities, but I’m also branching
out into writing guest blog posts (bylined or ghost written), web content, and
other types of writing as needed. Need a blog post for your business website? I
can write it. Need copy for your email newsletter? Let me help. Need a flyer or
brochure for your business? I can write that, too. I also offer copyediting and
proofreading services. If you know of anyone who needs the kind of writing and
editing services I offer, please pass along my name and contact info.
I want to thank Carol Tice (makealivingwriting.com) for my
new mantra: “Stop waiting. You’re a writer, not a waiter.” Her matter-of-fact
attitude and encouraging blog posts, as well as the support of the Freelance Writer’s Den, have helped enormously. I’ve taken advantage of the huge amounts
of information and instruction both she and Linda Formichelli (of The Renegade Writer) offer (much of it free), and will continue to do so for the foreseeable
future.
I owe another thank you to Laure Ferlita, who as my friend
and partner in adventure, has encouraged me at every step to believe in myself
and just do it, already. (Laure is beginning a new chapter in her own
business, independent learning classes, and if you’re interested in
go-at-your-own-pace watercolor instruction, I encourage you to give her classes
a try. She’s an awesome teacher. Check out her post introducing her new classes here.)
I could keep thanking people all day—my husband, the rest of
my friends, and even those of you I only know through this blog. Your kindness
and encouragement keep me going when I don’t feel like writing and the words
won’t come.
Here’s to a new everyday adventure!