I’m not complaining, but how did it get to be November
already? It seems like it was January just a few moments ago!
Recently I haven’t spent much time roaming the internet (I’m
w-a-a-y behind in reading the blogs I follow), but I do have a few tidbits of
interest to share:
“How Living Like a French Woman Helped Me Lose 75 Pounds” is
not really about losing weight—it’s about embracing life.
Click here for more ways to live a happier life today.
Making a vision board is fun, but you have to actually do
something if you want those envisioned dreams to come true. Tonya Leigh
writes about the importance of taking action in “Vision Boards Are a Waste of Time. Try This Instead.”
Whether it’s due to a life-changing illness or simply the
natural process of getting older, many of us are questioning and reordering our
priorities. Here’s one woman’s take on that: “Priorities: The Art of Letting Go of Things That Don’t Matter.”
Congratulations to the Chicago Cubs for their World Series win! Here’s Bill
Murray, using an, um, unorthodox singing style, performing “Take Me Out to the
Ballgame” during the seventh inning stretch of game 3.
Photo courtesy Gerhard Gellinger |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: Beginning writers often
tell me their real lives aren't interesting enough to write about, but the mere
act of shaping a poem lifts its subject matter above the ordinary. Here’s
Natasha Trethewey, who served two terms as U. S. Poet Laureate, illustrating
just what I’ve described. It’s from her book Domestic Work, from
Graywolf Press. Trethewey lives in Georgia
Housekeeping
We mourn the broken things, chair legs
wrenched from their seats, chipped plates,
the threadbare clothes. We work the magic
of glue, drive the nails, mend the holes.
We save what we can, melt small pieces
of soap, gather fallen pecans, keep neck bones
for soup. Beating rugs against the house,
we watch dust, lit like stars, spreading
across the yard. Late afternoon, we draw
the blinds to cool the rooms, drive the bugs
out. My mother irons, singing, lost in reverie.
I mark the pages of a mail-order catalog,
listen for passing cars. All day we watch
for the mail, some news from a distant place.
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 ©2000 by Natasha Trethewey, “Housekeeping,” from Domestic Work,
(Graywolf Press, 2000). Poem reprinted by permission of Natasha Trethewey and
the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2016 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.
Gratitude plays a large role in happiness—in fact, gratitude seems to be able to rewire your brain and help you feel happier! Paying attention to the good things in your life is a powerful practice. And with this in mind, for the month of November, I’ll be taking part in Dani DiPirro’s 30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge. This is my third year of participating! (You can read about the other two years here and here.) Daily, I’ll follow her prompt and post a photo and reflection about something for which I’m grateful on Instagram and Facebook. At the end of the month, I’ll do a roundup of my favorite prompts here on Catching Happiness. I’d love it if you followed along, or even better, if you join me! You can read about what the challenge entails and see what the prompts are here.
This is always a fun challenge, and this year it will be
even better, because…prizes! Dani and her collaborator Caroline from Made Vibrant have a giveaway planned! Every time you post, you’ll be entered to win.
Come on, let’s be grateful together!
The out-of-hand TBR shelf |
Let’s talk books, shall we? It’s been months since I’ve
written about what I’ve been reading. And you know I’ve been reading…though not
quite at the pace of some previous years. I took several books with me on my recent trip, but only finished one of them, my time being taken up with more
important things such as beating my mom, aunt, and cousin at Chicken Foot (dominoes) and
visiting with the horses next door. A girl must have priorities.
I’ve been
fighting a losing battle with the TBR shelf (see photo above)—this year I’ve bought a ridiculous
number of books, and even though I’m mostly reading from my own shelves, I’ve
fallen behind again. And while I haven’t been reading as many books, I’ve read
some excellent ones. So without further ado, here are some highlights of my
recent reading in no particular order:
I started reading H Is for Hawk on the airplane to
California. This beautifully written memoir by Helen Macdonald took the book
lists by storm in 2015, appearing on 25 Best Books of the Year lists, including
that of The New York Times Book Review. Devastated by grief following
the death of her father, Macdonald (an experienced falconer) adopted and
trained a goshawk and the experience helped her heal. I’ve never thought about
what it would take to fly a hawk free, but Macdonald’s description of invisible
lines between her and her hawk reminded me of what it takes to work a horse at
liberty: trust, respect, and being a safe place for the animal.
Bluebird, or the Invention of Happiness, by Sheila
Kohler, is a historical novel based on the real life of Lucy Dillon, an 18th
century French aristocrat. Using flashbacks, it follows Lucy from her unhappy
childhood, to becoming a French Court favorite, fleeing to America with her
husband and small children to escape the guillotine, and eventually returning
to France once the danger of execution was past.
My mom, also a great reader, handed me The Christie Caper
when I was visiting. I started reading it on the plane home. It’s part of a
series featuring Annie Darling, owner of mystery bookshop Death on Demand.
Annie’s cosponsoring a conference celebrating Agatha Christie, and unbeknownst
to her, murder is on the agenda. I love Dame Agatha so I enjoyed the Christie
life and book references throughout this book. I’m down to the last 40 or so
pages, and I think I know whodunit. We’ll see.
I adored Voracious: A Hungry Ready Cooks Her Way Through Great Books, by Cara Nicoletti. This is a book I wish I’d written.
Nicoletti is a butcher, cook, and writer, and Voracious combines stories
about books with recipes inspired by them. Great fun.
The Year of Living Danishly, Helen Russell. I have a
fascination with reading about the experiences of people living in countries
other than the U.S. I’ve traveled some, but the closest I’ve come to living in
another country was the couple of months I spent in Israel while working on an
archaeological dig as a college student. I’m interested in daily life, systems,
and cultures that are not my own. In Year, Russell, a Brit, moved with
her husband to Denmark so he could work for Lego (he’s identified throughout
the book as “Lego Man”). Using her journalist skills, she interviews everyone
from her neighbors and her garbage man, to directors of Danish social agencies
to discover why the Danes are consistently some of the happiest people in the
world.
So what’s up next?
I’ve read a lot of mysteries this year, making progress on
the several series I follow, but now I’m also in the mood for something more
substantial, something in which to immerse myself. Perhaps a classic? I have a
Wilkie Collins novel, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Charles Dickens’ Dombey
and Son at the ready. Or perhaps just a novel that doesn’t involve finding
a dead body?
Choosing the next book to read—one of my favorite simple
pleasures!
Have you read anything exceptional lately?
I came home from my trip to California to see my parents to
find the weather here has turned fall-ish! Between that and the rejuvenation of
my visit, I feel like a new person.
I indulged in some favorite simple pleasures, such as
stopping at Granzella’s for a sandwich and a walk through their gift shop. I
practiced yoga twice, and took several walks around my mom’s property, making
the acquaintance of some cows and some horses.
One of my favorite things is the
way it smells out there. I breathed deeply as I explored the landscape of my
childhood summers.
I bought books at Cal’s used bookstore (and had to have them
shipped home since they wouldn’t fit in my suitcase). One afternoon, my aunt
and cousin came for tea and a cutthroat game of dominoes.
How now brown cow? |
The ladies next door |
At my dad’s I went shopping with my stepmom, filled up on my
dad’s delicious salad, admired the changes they’d made to their home, and loved
on their kitty.
Best. Salad. Ever. |
Misty |
I always become introspective on trips. Somehow the distance
from my everyday life lends itself to pondering. This trip was no different.
Two main themes developed: consciousness of mortality and gratitude.
I don’t think about dying often but on this trip I realized
that continued life is not a guarantee. I’m blessed to have my parents still
living, but they are both aging and have health problems (though they’re
hanging in there and following doctors’ orders). I can’t help but worry about
them and wish I could check in on them in person more frequently. Seeing their
challenges makes me want to take better care of myself to give myself the best
chance possible to have healthy senior years.
Also, to bring the mortality theme home, while I was in
California, a good friend of mine from high school died from an aneurysm. He
was just 52.
While I’m sobered, I’m also filled with gratitude. I love my
life right now! Overall, things are going the way I want them to go. I have
work, friends, family, and animals that I love. I was ready to come home when
my trip was done instead of wanting to extend it for more days.
I’m all unpacked and the suitcase is put away. Because of
the East Coast/West Coast time difference, I’m still having trouble going to
sleep (and staying asleep), but that will pass. I’m back at my Monday morning
exercise class today and will likely ride Tank tomorrow. I’m grateful. I’m
lucky.
I’m happy at home.
Photo courtesy Alessandra Carassas |
Introduction by Ted Kooser: While many of the poems
we feature in this column are written in open forms, that’s not to say I don’t
respect good writing done in traditional meter and rhyme. But a number of
contemporary poets, knowing how a rigid attachment to form can take charge of the
writing and drag the poet along behind, will choose, say, the traditional
villanelle form, then relax its restraints through the use of broken rhythm and
inexact rhymes. I’d guess that if I weren’t talking about it, you might not
notice, reading this poem by Floyd Skloot, that you were reading a sonnet.
Silent Music
My wife wears headphones as she plays
Chopin etudes in the winter light.
Singing random notes, she sways
in and out of shadow while night
settles. The keys she presses make a soft
clack, the bench creaks when her weight shifts,
golden cotton fabric ripples across
her shoulders, and the sustain pedal clicks.
This is the hidden melody I know
so well, her body finding harmony in
the give and take of motion, her lyric
grace of gesture measured against a slow
fall of darkness. Now stillness descends
to signal the end of her silent music.
Reprinted from “Prairie Schooner,” Volume 80, Number 2
(Summer, 2006) by permission of the University of Nebraska Press. Copyright ©
2006 by the University of Nebraska Press. Floyd Skloot’s most recent book is
“The End of Dreams,” 2006, Louisiana State University Press. This weekly column
is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress, and the
Department of English at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. We do not accept
unsolicited manuscripts.
Guess where I am? I’m indulging in simple pleasures and
everyday adventures in California while I visit my parents. Here, there’s no
chorus of projects, laundry, or errands. Time for a break, to enjoy my family,
escape the humidity and hurricanes, and recharge. Time to hear myself think on the airplane and on the drive from
the airport to my mom’s house. Time for reading and sketching, drinking tea and
playing games. Heaven!
My posting schedule won’t be affected much. I’ve scheduled a
poem for next Wednesday as usual, and I hope to be back here next Friday to share my
adventures, but until then I’ll have limited email and computer access by
choice. I need some recharging and well-refilling.
Whatever your week holds, I hope it’s a happy one!
|
“Happiness comes from living as you need to, as you want
to. As your inner voice tells you to. Happiness comes from being who you
actually are instead of who you think you
are supposed to be.”
—Shonda Rhimes
I know it doesn’t seem like there’s much to smile
about—hurricanes, contentious presidential elections, and various other
distressing events and tragedies grab headline space in print and online.
There’s often not much we can do about the darkness in the world…except try to
lighten it a little by caring for others, by sharing simple pleasures with
others, spreading the ripples of kindness.
Image courtesy Billy Alexander |
Today is World Smile Day, a day its founder Harvey Ball (the artist who designed the original smiley face) envisioned as a day we go out of our way to smile and do kind acts. Its motto is simple: “Do one act of kindness. Make one person smile.”
I find it so easy to become overwhelmed by the troubles in
the world and in the lives of those I love, not to mention my own struggles. I’m ashamed to still need constant reminders
to seek for small kindnesses to share with others, but I’m going to keep
trying. One act of kindness at a time.
What kind actions made you smile today?
Introduction by Ted Kooser: Barbara Crooker, who
lives in Pennsylvania, has become one of this column's favorite poets. We try
to publish work that a broad audience of readers can understand and, we hope,
may be moved by, and this particular writer is very good at that. Here's an example
from her collection, Gold, from Cascade Books.
Grief
is a river you wade in until you get to the other side.
But I am here, stuck in the middle, water parting
around my ankles, moving downstream
over the flat rocks. I'm not able to lift a foot,
move on. Instead, I'm going to stay here
in the shallows with my sorrow, nurture it
like a cranky baby, rock it in my arms.
I don't want it to grow up, go to school, get married.
It's mine. Yes, the October sunlight wraps me
in its yellow shawl, and the air is sweet
as a golden Tokay. On the other side,
there are apples, grapes, walnuts,
and the rocks are warm from the sun.
But I'm going to stand here,
growing colder, until every inch
of my skin is numb. I can't cross over.
Then you really will be gone.
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 ©2013 by Barbara Crooker, “Grief” (Gold, Cascade Books,
2013). Poem reprinted by permission of Barbara Crooker and the publisher.
Introduction copyright ©2016 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.
I recently participated in Sarah Jenks’ Live More Challenge.
For two weeks, I put more thought into what would make life more delicious,
what would feed my life (rather than just my body), and for two weeks I noticed
a genuine lightening of my spirits. I looked forward to each day’s challenge. I also learned that living more required planning, and I need to make time for fun
every day. (You can see my Live More posts if you follow me on Instagram.)
While this may sound frivolous in the face of this world’s
tragedies, I’ve learned that my being unhappy will not make this world safer or
better. My being happy, however, just might rub off on those around me,
and help someone else feel better, too. So with that in mind, I’ve compiled
a list of 25 simple pleasures for us to try. Won’t you join me?
1. Instead of a blaring alarm clock, wake up to music, nature
sounds, or something else that pleases your ear.
2. Call a friend—or (gasp!) write a letter.
3. Take a nap (I won’t tell).
4. Crank up some music. Choose music from the time you were
happiest for an extra boost.
5. Clean or declutter a drawer or shelf.
6. Bake something and share with a friend or neighbor.
7. Read, sketch, or simply people watch at a coffee shop. If
you’re into pumpkin spice lattes, now’s the time to order one!
8. Go picking—find an orchard or farm that hosts you pick
opportunities and fill a basket or bag with fresh produce.
9. Finish a project. Whether it’s a bathroom update or an art
project, fixing something that’s broken, or mending an item of clothing.
10. Buy one perfect treat (cupcake, scone, handmade chocolate,
glass of wine, etc.). Consume it without any distractions and enjoy every
mouthful.
11. Buy or collect fresh flowers. Find a place to put them where
the cat won’t eat them. (Or is this a problem only I have?)
12. Schedule a field trip to explore someplace new. Or revisit a
place you love—your choice.
13. Perform an anonymous act of kindness.
14. Look the cashier (or the server, or the librarian) in the
eye and smile.
15. You know that pile of magazines you’ve been meaning to read?
Grab it and curl up in bed for a couple of hours.
16. Take a walk in your neighborhood with your camera or phone.
Take photos of your favorite places and things—anything that grabs your
attention.
17. Sit comfortably for 10 minutes and do nothing. (It’s
harder than it sounds.)
18. Take a class, in person or online. Choose something you’ve
always wanted to try. Some fun ones I’ve come across: soap making, altered
journals, aromatherapy, wine making. Of course, I highly recommend my friend
Laure’s art classes.
19. Drink a cold glass of water. You’ll be refreshed and
energized—just watch out for brain freeze.
20. Tell someone a joke.
21. Sip a hot cup of tea, coffee, or cocoa.
22. Rewatch your favorite movie. Maybe even eat some popcorn.
23. Sit outside, close your eyes and listen. See if you can
identify five different sounds.
24. Groom your dog/cat/rabbit/ferret/horse. Give him or her
treats and extra love. I still miss my dog so much, so be sure you enjoy them
while you have them.
So go forth and treat yo’self. Life should be enjoyed, not
just endured!
I’ve listed only a few simple pleasures. What can you add to this list?
“The way you treat yourself sets the standard for
others.”
—Dr. Sonya Friedman