New Year's Eve on Beale Street

What an amazing New Year's Eve.

We got to our campsite overlooking the Mississippi River in time to get set up before dark. After unhitching the rig we headed across the river into Memphis for dinner. Oh, my; the bridge is under construction and the lanes are very, very tight. So glad we didn't try that bridge with the big rig. Beale Street and Main Street were both blocked off in preparation for the guitar drop at midnight. How fun to be able to get a table at B.B. King's Blues Club right near the stage where we could enjoy the show.

And now, back at camp, we sit here getting warmed up while listening to trains going by along one side of the campground and tug boats pushing barges up and down the river on the other side.

What a night! I'm tired and probably won't wait up for the fireworks over the river.

But first I must get a few things unpacked and put away before we can really relax for our first night in the RV; at least get things off the bed so there is room to sleep.

Happy New Year!!!





 

My word for 2015: NOW

For a couple years now I've been choosing a word for the year - something I like lots better than New Year's resolutions. This year my word was "less" which coincided nicely with the serious downsizing we've been doing for four years. We have just sold our farm and packed our most cherished possessions into a storage unit. In fact, today and tomorrow we are finishing up that process and moving into our RV where we will live for the next year or so.

As we have pushed ourselves through this process, there were times I found myself unable to deal with a certain box or bin full of stuff - so I would move on to a different one, one that I COULD deal with. Consequently, there are still way too many piles of boxes stored away. I am not displeased with myself for deferring those decisions. It was a coping skill for that time and it served me well. That downsizing process has been intense and I'm thankful that I've been able to cut myself a little slack.

But now... Now we have turned the corner. We have locked the door on that storage unit and walked away for a few months.

I have begun to think that my word for the new year is "now" - that it's time to shift my practice toward dealing with things in the moment rather than to set them aside for another time.

"Now" is also a good time to let myself do some of the things I have not taken time for during this intense process. For example, I have always been an avid reader - until these last few years when I have not taken time to read much. Now I will allow myself to read again.

Now is a time to relax a bit - and maybe to even try some new things.

Now is a time to celebrate. Now is time to be present in the moment rather than worry about the future. As I've walked alongside a friend living with late stage cancer, I'm impressed with her focus on living in the present moment. In the now. I want to live like that. I want to be present in the moment. To be alert and mindful. To celebrate what I have rather than worry about what I might lose.

Now is what we have. This is the time to do the things I want to get done.

Even before choosing "now" as my word, I've noticed how living this way has helped me make the shift toward downsizing. Two things that had always contributed to my pack-rat tendencies have been the past and the future. I clung to mementos from the past because they were my heritage. Fortunately I'm learning that I don't need to keep every single piece of that history. As for the future, I used to tend to hoard things that I might need in the future even if I haven't used it yet. I am gradually learning that if I do ever need one of these, I can probably go and buy one. In other words, I realize that living in the now, in the present moment, has already helped me to downsize my stuff - even though I still have much to learn about that habit.

But perhaps the biggest reason for choosing "now" for my word for the year is because I am so tired of incompletions. I have not been a good finisher. But guess what! Unfinished projects cause stress. Big time. Loose ends make me feel frazzled so I want to learn to tie them up. To put things away. To let them go. To be able to walk away and be done.

Hubby always says there is no time like the present. I am learning how important it is to "get 'er done" so that things no longer hang over my head. I want to shift my practice to one of doing it now.

...

Okay; I've talked myself into it. "Now" is my word for the coming year. I plan to practice the art of doing it now. And yes, I know that it will take practice.

And here's what I hope. Once we return to Michigan in April and unlock that storage unit, I really hope that I will be so in love with the habit of doing it now that I will be ready to let go of more and more stuff that I previously stored away.

But now...

Now

I have this moment.

Today.

Butt-in-chair tactics

 As a writer who is always trying to improve the quality of what I create as well as to streamline my work patterns, I like to read tips about writing. But hey, I discovered it's even more fun when one of my very own tips is included in the list. Check out Tip # 20; it's a good one if I do say so myself. Serious nonsense. Here are just a few of the tips:

 

...
5 – Stop writing when you’re on a roll.
6 – Work on multiple projects.
...

9 – Take your writing and yourself seriously.
...
20 - Don’t be afraid to write nonsense. Seriously. Serious nonsense. Even like “I don’t know what to write today” which, in my case, often leads into a sort of journaling and processing what I’m thinking or feeling. But yes, sometimes just keep typing (or keep the pen moving) to reinforce the writing habit. And it often opens up the flow.
... 

Thanks, Bryan Hutchinson, for this list and for inviting input.

 

 

 

hope, joy, peace...

So this is Christmas and what have you done,
Another year over, a new one just begun.

And so this is Christmas, I hope you have fun,
The near and the dear ones, the old and the young.

A very merry Christmas and a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fears.

And so this is Christmas for weak and for strong,
The rich and the poor ones, the road is so long.

And so happy Christmas for black and for white
For the yellow and red ones let's stop all the fights.

A very merry Christmas and a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear.

And so this is Christmas and what have we done
Another year over, a new one just begun.

And so happy Christmas we hope you have fun
The near and the dear ones, the old and the young.

A very merry Christmas and a happy New Year
Let's hope it's a good one without any fear.

War is over if you want it, war is over now.

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Two days. Eleven years.

Two days before Christmas.

Eleven years ago today. That day when I got the bad news. What we feared had come true. Yes, it was cancer. Two days before Christmas.

Yesterday. Lying on a table in another hospital for yet another medical test. Couldn't help but remember those days eleven years ago. The feelings and emotions. The crazy and complicated thought processes.

So much has happened in those eleven years. I survived cancer. Twice. I am grateful. So terribly grateful. I love life.

Life is different these days. Far less certainty these days. Lots more adventure. I've had to adjust to the idea of living with the unknown and the uncertain. I've chosen to embrace it - or at least I'm starting to.

Uncertainty pervades my life. I have no permanent address. I rather like the uncertainty. Or at least I appreciate the benefits of it. I think that I don't take things for granted like I used to. I think that I am even more grateful than I used to be. More aware of my blessings.

Uncertainty makes me a better person. I think. During the years of being so sure of what I believed and what I valued may have caused me to be a teensy bit rigid. And arrogant. Yes, I admit it. Having my certainty shaken up a bit has hopefully made me more flexible and more compassionate. Hopefully.

 

The themes of Christmas

According to Joshua Becker, these are the themes of Christmas, the things that should not be kept to ourselves: Love, joy, peace, hope, reconciliation, goodwill.

The very things that our society so desperately needs this year. At this moment. The very things that seem so evasive when we watch the nightly news. It is so easy to feel hopeless and helpless. I can't fix it. I don't really even know how to make anything better.

But I do know quite a few things NOT to do. I recognize lots of things that do NOT help. Things that harm others or that escalate the tension. Things that would be better left unsaid.

I long to be an ambassador of those Christmas themes. An ambassador of peace and hope and goodwill. Even if my attempts seem so terribly futile, I want to find ways to make things better in this world.

I want to have the wisdom and self-control to keep my mouth shut at opportune times. May I have the good sense to not say hurtful or volatile things.

I also want to have the courage to speak peace and hope to those who need to hear. May I not back off from the difficult gestures.

As I finish my shopping and holiday prep, may I remember to watch for ways to pass along these good gifts: love, joy, peace, hope, reconciliation, and goodwill.

Goodbye and hello

Once upon a time, when I was settled down in my comfortable life and couldn't imagine ever leaving, I remember feeling sorry for friends who moved away. I couldn't understand why they would choose to pull up roots or how they could be okay with it. Somehow it seemed to me that leaving would be more painful than good.

Today we are the ones who have pulled up roots and are heading out. Some of our friends look at us and just sort of shake their heads. I can imagine some of the things they might be thinking... and some of them actually tell us. There seems to be a bit of astonishment at least and probably wonder - wondering how or why we would do such a thing. Most often there is an acknowledgment that it must be really hard. And yes, there are hard parts to it. The good-byes and the letting go, but there is also excitement. Things we look forward to. Things we choose to be our new life.

Hubby says it well: You say good-bye and I say hello.

Messed up. Again.

I messed up. Yah, that's not unusual, but this was a biggie. I feel badly and I honestly don't know anything I can do to rectify the mess. So I could just wallow in my guilt and feel worse and worse. Or I could find something profitable to do - and maybe try to be more responsible or more sensitive or something so that I don't mess up again too soon.

When I'm thinking clearly, the choice is obvious. Unfortunately, I haven't been thinking very clearly the last few days because of a nasty cold - which is my excuse for messing up so royally in the first place.

At any rate, I do know how to choose. At least I certainly know that it won't do anybody any good for me to wallow in this pit. So I do the only thing(s) I know to do about this mess and then let it go.

And I keep moving. Put one foot in front of the other. Find something to do. One of those things that has been hanging over my head? Yah, that would be good.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anne Lamott just nailed it again with a piece about showing up and offering hope to others.

I really want to do that. I've been thinking so much lately about how I want to be more sensitive and more welcoming and encouraging. I want to be more understanding. I want to put myself in others' shoes. I want to be a minister of reconciliation, but I often don't know what to do. But still I can try.

Anne is one of the people who challenge me to be a better person. And yes, I was challenged by her writing once again. But the comments... Oh, the comments! Often I don't let myself read the comments - because it can be time consuming and mostly because internet comments are normally ignorant and infuriating. But I read some of them today. And today they were worth reading.
Here's one: Because of your book ... I went on my first hike today

And another: I just stood in the grocery weepily debating whether I could afford to squander my food stamps on cherries & chocolate for my birthday. No. But, dammit, my birthday is tomorrow, and I'm so discouraged ... and ... I really needed this today.

And one more: Thank you, Anne. Love and Hope are very much needed here in Australia today.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

These comments stir me. They inspire me. They help me put myself in those others' shoes. Oh, God, please help me to be an ambassador of healing to people like this. I really wish I could find that person and send cherries and chocolate for her birthday. I want to send hugs to the people of Sydney and the entire country of Australia after what they've been through. I want to pat that woman on the back and congratulate her for going on that first hike.

And I want to frame these comments and hold them up to Anne Lamott as a mirror to remind her of how many people she has helped.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

So I messed up. And I will again. And that's okay.

Most of us have messy lives and can really use some understanding from other people.

I want to be one of those people.

What I DON'T want to be is one of those people who automatically points fingers of blame at people who mess up. Unfortunately, that finger-pointing routine tends to be my default setting. But I don't need to settle there. I can change that setting to a much more helpful one.

And that's good news.

　

　

STILL not done!

I woke up feeling pretty overwhelmed again - about all my stuff! I still feel buried under it. That's kinda' sad - since I was hoping to be free by now. I guess I feel powerless about my lack of ability to let go of more stuff. There is so much I could/should have gotten rid of by now, and I feel embarrassed and discouraged about it.

We went back to the farm again yesterday to deal with the leftovers in that one shed. Bitter cold out there. Too cold to work outside or in the shed or the RV. I just couldn't seem to concentrate or focus or make any decisions about what should go where. However hubby insisted that we made good progress. At this point, I want more than progress; I want to be DONE!!!

We did load a bunch of stuff in the truck and we did make numerous stops. Dropped another pile off at the thrift store and more at the storage unit and brought the rest down here.

Funny thing! The guy at the thrift store saw us pull up with our load of stuff and immediately started clearing space for it. I quickly explained that it was not all coming there.

Another memorable moment at the storage unit - when we searched for a metal folding chair that my mom had requested... I was able to spot it in the flashlight beam - about halfway back. We moved 2 or 3 things out of the way so that hubby could squish through what was left of our center aisle until he was able to barely reach it. Finding the oomph to lift it up out of the tightly-packed 3-D puzzle at that wacky angle and that distance and then hoisting it over everything between it and us seemed doubtful, but he did it!!! His mother-in-law has no idea what he went through to rescue that chair for her!!!

And then back to our new home with the rest of the load. That's when the shame sets in again. I don't want hubby or anybody else to have to haul around all of my boxes of things that I SHOULD have gotten rid of. And I don't like taking up so much space in this room in our daughter's house. I feel really impatient with myself for hanging on to so much stuff!!!

All kinds of feelings of failure and worthlessness threaten to pull me down. I feel silly. I feel discouraged. I feel sad. And I feel overwhelmed and powerless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

But I'm not. I am not powerless.
I am not a failure.
I can still choose to tell myself the truth.
I HAVE made progress. HUGE progress.
I can recognize that I am physically (and mentally and emotionally) exhausted and probably fighting some kind of respiratory bug which saps my energy - what's left of it.
I can choose to be kind to myself.

And when I start in on today's project of trying to whip this last load of stuff into some semblance of order, I can remind myself to focus on just one box at a time. Piece by piece.

AND I don't have to fear what others think of me.

AND that I can only do what I can do.

Novel November

November is National Novel Writing Month


Once again I participated in National Novel Writing Month this year. Once again I won - which means that I succeeded in writing more than 50,000 words during the month of November. It wasn't the story that I planned to write, but the words flowed and you better believe I counted them. All 64,772 of them.

This was my fifth time to participate in NaNo - and to win - but I suppose some people would question the value of it. After all I have not yet edited and published any of those stories. However from Year One I've been convinced of the value of such an endeavor - for many reasons. I don't suppose I have the energy to detail those reasons at the moment but surely I'll write about them at another time.

This year's success is even sweeter because I managed to get it done in the midst of an otherwise crazy busy month. Other years I've tried to keep November rather free so that I could really focus on NaNo, but that was not an option this year. But still I did it. I pushed myself and cranked out the words and I'm proud of my accomplishment.
 So another November has come and gone. A November like no other. Lots of changes in my world and in my life. But some things have stayed the same and NaNoWriMo was one of them. Yay!!!

My little spot

 

 
This morning I celebrated my last time to write in my little writing nook tucked away in a corner of the loft at the old log cabin. I loved that little spot. It was good to me. During the two partial years we lived there, I sat there most mornings to write - whether to crank out words in my NaNo project, to work on a blog post, or just to capture my thoughts and feelings.

This nook did not boast a huge study area nor was there space for a library - like my previous writing spot in the big house. It was just a little spot - triangular in shape, tucked under the eaves between the built-in wardrobe and the loft railing.


I loved the view from that railing overlooking the cozy room below or out the second-story windows with the red-bud tree on the left and the stately spruce at the right.

In the spring, that red-bud tree exploded into bright pink froth and in the fall its leaves cavorted through a wild range of vivid colors. Meanwhile the tall dark evergreen solemnly stood guard through the seasons.

In the winter, like this morning, I couldn't see any of that because it was just dark out there, but I could remember and imagine the colors as I waited for the daylight to show up. And I kept writing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This afternoon we hauled that little desk down the stairs and loaded it into the truck to move away from this lovely spot.

There will be other writing nooks in other lovely places. Places that I haven't yet imagined. After all I never would have imagined this little corner of the loft until I got there and found it.

The BIG day!

Today is the day!!!

The closing on our property sale. Woohoo!!!
How surreal.
I have never done anything quite like this before and didn't know what thoughts and feelings to expect. It almost seems like there ought to be bells and whistles - or tears of nostalgia - or maybe doubts and fears and second-guessing. Or something.

I'm not sure what I feel. Oh, yah, there have been moments of most of those emotions. Certainly moments of nostalgia. There have been triggers here and there that set off the tears or fears or sadness. But mostly there is a sense of wonder - that this is really happening. Finally. We have worked hard for this. We have made difficult decisions and huge sacrifices. We have prepared as wisely as we know how.

But even beyond our own efforts, we have been blessed by so many good parts to the process. Things that we never could have orchestrated even if we had known enough to think of them.

The timing, for example. Oh, my, the timing. Sometimes, the timing felt interminable. Other times, for a brief moment here and there, things seemed to fly faster than we could possibly keep up. But the timing has indeed been a blessing. We did not have to deal with it all on a sudden or rushed timetable. Four years was a good length of time for me/us to process the joys and the sorrows of such a huge move - even as we process the piles and piles of STUFF. Yah, we probably could have moved a lot faster in that department, and hubby often wished we had, but hey, we have continued to work on it. Piece by piece. Processing, sorting, pitching, selling, storing.

And here we are.

The RV is stocked and almost ready to go. A few select pieces of furniture are nestled into the little "apartment" in our daughter's basement which serves as a landing spot between our travels. Many cherished items have been sold and hauled away. The rest of our possessions are being carefully packed and stacked in a 10' x 20' storage unit for the next few months or years - while we do a bit more wandering and exploring.

The timing has been good in allowing us opportunity to try some things out. For example, a year ago we had no clue if we would be able to survive in a 28-foot RV. Now we do. After living in it for seven months, we have learned that yes, we love it and can thrive in that small space.

So yah, the timing has been good - even though there were moments when we wondered if this was EVER going to happen.

Besides the timing, there are other blessings as well.
Probably I'll write about those, too.
Sometime.

the good, the bad, and the ugly

After four years of some pretty serious downsizing, we are beginning to wrap it up. This phase, at least.

Two and a half years ago we moved from the big house that we had built and lived in for 40 years into a tiny dry cabin. We had already disposed of many of our possessions that we had accumulated over those 40 years. We moved the rest of them into outbuildings on the property where we would continue the process of sorting and pitching. We are finally nearing the end of that first major purge by selling the property and moving that stuff into a 10' x 20' storage unit.

Over and over again we are reminded that this is the right choice. To get free. To live more simply. To be mobile and portable. We love the choice. We love the freedom. We celebrate the sale of the property that gives us that freedom. We are excited. We rejoice about how it is all coming together.

But...

There are hard moments, too. There is a price to this freedom. The cost is high. There are losses to grieve. The losses that are the hardest come back around from time to time. I have written about some of them and will likely write about them again. Some days I can talk about them and write about them; other days the words won't come - or they get stuck in my throat. In fact, I may have already written much of what I'm saying here; I can't always keep it straight. And it really feels like I'm not saying it well.

There are losses and there are gains. That's the way life works.

So here's what I've decided to do. I think it is wise to pay attention. To notice both, the good and the bad. To embrace the positive and the negative. The exciting along with the difficult. The heart-warming along with the heart-wrenching. Rather than ignore or repress these thoughts and feelings, I want to notice them. To pause and appreciate them. To ponder and to process. To feel them and to think about them.

I do not want to ignore or repress them. I think it would be a shame to get down the road a couple years and suddenly realize that I hadn't taken the time to grieve the losses - or to cherish a thing of beauty while it was mine to behold. That might be the ugly part - to not really live in the present moment. To let the crazy last-minute busyness rob me of experiencing fully the joys and the sorrows, the excitement and the pain.

Another ugly part might be to ignore something that could be learned from this whole process. My dear dad always said, "Let that be a lesson to you." I hope that I am not missing the lessons of these moments and days.

Sure enough, I don't think I'm saying it well. But somehow as I learn to embrace the good along with the bad, I hope to avoid the ugliness of taking things for granted or of griping and complaining.

The hills and the dips

An emotional roller-coaster. That's what it is.

Feeling good about making such progress and then realizing how much there is left to do. And to get rid of!

Feeling grateful and pleasantly surprised by how much energy I have and how many days I have been going gang-busters. Then being wiped out and dragging around barely able to move. Remembering how important it is to pace myself.

Feeling amazed that I'm able to keep up with my huge November writing project while also making huge strides in this moving project. Then feeling ashamed of myself that I've forgotten to walk for several days. Well, that I've forgotten to "take a walk" and to track my miles - although I have certainly taken many, many steps between cabin and shed and RV; between truck and storage unit; up and down steps to the basement and the loft - pretty much all day every day. Yah, I've been walking some miles; I just haven't remembered to track them. Oh, well.

Enjoying my keen focus on the project of the day and feeling rather pleased with myself for keeping those blinders on and not getting distracted. Then other days feeling so scattered and fragmented and unable to keep pushing on that project because of getting lured away by all of the other ones demanding my attention.

Being excited to get the storage unit - because it feels like such a significant step toward the next phase in our epic journey and toward closure for this chapter. Feeling cautiously optimistic about how spacious it seems. Then a couple days later arriving with that first load to realize that the spot isn't really very big and it's going to fill up really fast - which means I guess we're going to have to get rid of more stuff.

It seems that every day or two (and sometimes every hour or so) some discovery confronts our current perception of the process and the progress. So we take another deep breath and we keep walking. We keep taking the next steps - sometimes baby steps, sometimes pretty big steps.

The highs and the lows. The hills and the dips. The optimism along with the discouragement. The sane thoughts battling with the extreme feelings. The straight pathways and clear goals along with the wandering around wondering what to do next. The large steps and the tiny ones.

...

Move that sand pile - piece by piece.
 

Unexpected gifts

It was an ordinary fall day in Michigan. My brother came to the door as he sometimes did - for a visit. This time he carried a shopping bag which he handed to me. Curiously I opened it to discover a nice warm sweater with a t-shirt to go under it. Puzzled I was. It wasn't my birthday and it wasn't Christmas. It was just an ordinary day. But he had brought me a gift. An unexpected gift. Probably the best kind.

I wore that warm sweater lots of times that winter - and the next. And the next several winters. It was the kind that might have felt picky to me if it didn't have something between it and my skin, but he had that covered - with the soft, comfy long-sleeved t-shirt. How wonderfully thoughtful.

Every time I think of that sweater I have a warm feeling and I find myself thinking about unexpected gifts. And about kind and thoughtful people. And unexpected blessings of all kinds.

...

When we found the perfect RV that day a year ago, it contained unexpected gifts. The fact that we were able to find the floor plan we wanted AND the other important things on our wish list all in the same model... That was a gift.

And when we stepped up into the bathroom we were shocked at the perfect layout. Definitely a gift.But then when we came back to see it again and this time discovered the huge storage area under the bed, that was an unexpected gift! We were new to this culture; we didn't know RV's had cool spaces like that. I was so grateful and felt so blessed.

And THEN after we got the rig home and were dealing with all of the stressors that came with the moving process - and traipsing through the snow to load stuff... Yes, then, when I was trying to figure out how to make the best use of the small amount of drawer space in the kitchen... Then I happened to tug on the handles on the sink front - handles which we assumed were purely decorative - and discovered this wild drawer in front of and around the kitchen sink!!! Talk about unexpected!!! I was flabbergasted. This drawer was perfect to keep silverware and small utensils. I now had more drawer space than in my last two kitchens put together! Wahoo!!! What an unexpected gift!!! What a blessing!

Time after time we have looked around the inside of our rig and been astounded again and again at how perfect it is for us and our needs at this time. So many unexpected gifts packed into such a compact place. I am so terribly grateful.

...

Fast forward to another day in Michigan - this one cold and sad. Earlier as we were leaving cold and snowy Michigan, we had learned that Bob's brother was dying. In February his condition worsened quickly and we made arrangements to come home. After being in sunny California, the bone-chilling Michigan temps were a shock to our systems. There was ice in the toilet and we didn't know if we'd be able to get the old cabin warmed up enough to sleep here. While the furnace began its valiant fight against the wind chill intruding between the logs, we dug out the bins containing our winter clothes.

That's when I was surprised by that old warm sweater and the comfy t-shirt that went under it. Just what the doctor ordered for this cold weather! And unexpected it was. I had almost forgotten about it and would have thought that it had been hauled away to the thrift store years ago, but there it was. An unexpected gift to warm my body and my heart in a cold sad time. An unexpected reminder of unexpected gifts.

...

And now as I recall and attempt to chronicle this epic journey, this epic year, we once again find ourselves going through the stresses of moving and preparing for yet another journey and another year in another place.

 

We are once again facing the unknown. We once again feel excitement mixed with a measure of fear and trepidation. And once again I am wearing that old warm sweater to ward off the coming cold temps. And once again I am feeling grateful for unexpected gifts. Unexpected blessings on ordinary days and not-so-ordinary ones.

NaNo time!!!

It's NaNo time!

November has become a special month for me in recent years because that's when I write a book. November is National Novel Writing Month - affectionately dubbed NaNoWriMo by the hundreds and thousands of people who push themselves to crank out 50,000 words during the month. I have done NaNo four times now and I am excited to do it again. Two of those times, I had a plan and the other two ... um, not so much.

This year I have a plan - to write a sort of memoir or travelogue about our epic journey of the past year. I am guessing that I'll end up with WAY more than 50,000 words - because there is so much to write about.

NaNo requires a huge commitment, but also offers some good rewards. I will probably post more about it here, about those rewards and the process through the month, but then again I may not find much time to post here during the month.

At any rate, NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow and I'm ready to go.

Taking steps and turning corners

Last week I experienced some emotional ups and downs regarding my progress on the sorting and downsizing. But I kept going. I kept taking steps. Mostly baby steps, but some bigger ones, too. I think.

This week I took more steps and kept plodding. This week I surprised myself by tackling some things that I hadn't expected to. This week a couple things happen to nudge me along. This week I actually finished some things.

And then I noticed something pretty cool.

We got some news about the property sale. News that made it sound like something may really happen. And maybe even soon. The kind of news that makes us excited, but also makes us feel cautious not to get our hopes up. Not just yet.

But here's the thing. Other times when we've received news like that - or when it seemed like things might happen fairly soon, excitement wasn't the only thing I've felt. Normally there was also a fair-sized measure of panic that hit me in the face. Pretty much every other time I have found myself feeling like we couldn't possibly be ready by then.

But this time it is different. This time I noticed that the panic didn't pop up. Then I remembered that several times this week I had noticed myself feeling hopeful - like maybe I had turned a corner. Like maybe this thing really is doable. What an awesome feeling.

Oh, yes, I am aware that there will certainly be moments of panic and freaking out if these deadlines do indeed come together. But I feel so much more hopeful than any of those other times. And that is a very big and wonderful difference.

So today, on this Thursday, I'm feeling thankful.

Today I am happy to celebrate Thankful Thursday.

Not always the best focus

Back from a week away and wanting to get back into gear with the downsizing project, but where to start...?

I did get things hauled in from the RV and I did get them put away. That helps me feel accomplished.

However, there is still the pile of paperwork from my medical visits at the cancer center early in the week. I really want/need to sort through all of those papers and remind myself of which things I now need to incorporate into my life. Some things must be put on the calendar - like those other pesky medical tests that I've been putting off for months. Years even. And then other things need my mental attention - in doing research and making decisions about nutrition and wellness issues that were suggested to me by my health care team. They were good suggestions but I know that I will not automatically start doing them. I must learn and I must prioritize. I must build new habits. I don't want to set that packet of info aside and forget about it. It is valuable stuff and the longer I ignore it, the less it will help me. My health is worth the investment.

On the other hand, that mountain is still there. That stuff that must be processed and downsized. Those piles of boxes in the basement! More in the shed. And in the other shed! Boxes of old files, boxes of books, boxes of who-knows-what. Sometimes I wonder if I've made any progress at all. Sometimes I get discouraged and overwhelmed. Often I don't know where to start.

But then I have to remind myself that indeed, I did already start. That I don't have to keep stepping back and looking at the big overwhelming picture all the time. That it's okay to just step in close and focus on one pile at a time. One box at a time. And it's more than okay to just start where I am. In fact, that's the best place to start. Right where I am.

So those three suitcases that I found just before last week's travels? Those culprits that contain more winter clothes? The ones that surprised me when I thought I had already finished sorting the winter stuff? Yah, those. Maybe I will take those on today. Maybe even just one of them.

And those voices in my head? The ones that are saying that I'm not really doing so well at this downsizing thing. The condemning labels about being a failure and still being a packrat and a hoarder. Those warnings that I'll NEVER get done with all this. Those voices that try to convince me that my self-worth is based on my progress (or lack of it!) in this daunting downsizing process...

Yah, those voices. I need to ignore them or confront them, but I don't need to listen to them. It's okay to be proud of what I have done. It is right to celebrate where I am right now and to enjoy the moment. And it's okay to take baby steps again today. Even just one.

CTCA - a place of hope

This is quite the place. It is always changing.

I am referring to Cancer Treatment Centers of America - at Midwestern Regional Medical Center in Zion, Illinois.

Yes, it is quite the place and it is always changing. All kinds of changes. Construction projects. Unbelievable. Every time I'm here there are major changes. I mean MAJOR - especially when I come only once a year. One time it was a huge gym in a whole new corner of the third floor. One year new guest quarters - a whole four-story hotel - serving only CTCA guests. This year there is a whole new main entrance and lobby on the far corner from where the entrance has always been. And they have taken out the parking lot and are building a brand new building. Before that they put in a five-level parking garage. Bizarre.

Doing this much construction means doing away with other buildings - several houses and a church so far. Yesterday they started tearing down one of the beautiful landmark houses across the street. A woman on the shuttle this morning may have spoken for others when she said it makes her heart-sick - even though there is much excitement about the advancements and improvements happening around here.

It is a phenomenal place in other ways as well. Patients and their care-givers are treated as guests - because the place was founded for the purpose of treating cancer patients with compassion and dignity while fighting cancer and saving lives. Very impressive it is. And very efficient. The way they provide limo service to/from the airport and shuttle services to/from the hotels - is just one of the amazing things they do to take care of us.

But then the people! It is the people that I intended to talk about. People from all over the country. People with all types of cancer and in all stages. People here for treatment and people here for follow-up care. People here for two days or three months or more. People in recovery and people on oxygen.

The diversity of their conditions is bizarre. Part of me feels depressed to meet so many people who are in late stages of cancer - while another part of me feels almost guilty for feeling so well. It scares me to hear their stories and to think about eventualities. But it also makes me incredibly grateful that I AM doing so well and grateful for places like this - that are fighting cancer so aggressively and effectively. A place that offers hope to so many who had nearly given up hope when they first came here. A place that fights cancer one person at a time.

I can't help but wonder about the future of those filling this dining room this morning and those that I have met during this visit. I can't help but wonder about my own future. And I can't help but think about loved ones I've lost to this horrible disease. Therefore I can't help but be thankful for great strides that are being made in the quest to bring cancer under control.

...

Of course, it is also a place making big money. A place charging big money - which means that a lot of people can't come here - which is another whole topic. Another reason to feel conflicted. To be grateful to be among the privileged, but to be aware and compassionate toward those who aren't.

...

As for feeling weird about being one of the lucky ones in a place where so many futures are scary... Well, I guess I need not worry about that. To the contrary, people get excited for me. After I got my test results this morning and learned that everything was good, a couple different people discovered that fact and immediately got so excited. One young woman said, "I'd be dancing around the room!" and then she proceeded to tell others my good news. A man and his son at the next table perked up their ears and looked at me with hope in their eyes when they heard I'm still around 10 years later. Yay!!! I like that. I don't mind being an symbol of hope - even if it is through no merit of my own.

Don't go to bed until unpacked

Confession time.

I have a bad habit. Well, more than one. Yah, I wish it were only one. But this one is that I tend to not expedite things when I come home. I'm pretty good at hanging up my jacket and putting my purse away and unpacking groceries and getting them put away and disposing of the shopping bags. I'm especially proud of myself when I've remembered to take my cloth tote bags into the store so I'm pretty good about getting those totes nicely folded away and in their own carry bag and waiting by the front door to go out. Better yet I often go ahead and take them out to the truck - so at least they will be with me when I get to the store next time.

When we've been away for overnight I am not quite so diligent. I still put away most things, but I have to admit that my duffel bag often sits on the floor for a day or two. I try to remember to go ahead and unpack right away and get stuff put away - especially since reading an article about how important that is in a small space. And especially since living in a small space.

So last night when we got home instead of waiting until bed time, I went ahead and carried my bag up those steep stairs and went right ahead and unpacked it and put the stuff away. But... I didn't think or didn't bother to unpack the little bag of toiletries, jewelry, etc. I did take it into the bathroom, but didn't unpack it. This morning I realized my neglect and was going to do that right away so I could feel good about myself. And then I was going to get online to brag about it to the friends who care. But it was a busy day and I didn't get to it. Every time I thought of it I wanted to write about having done it - except that I hadn't done it yet. There it was - one simple task yet undone. So tonight after Jeopardy I got myself up off the couch and went in there and got 'er done. So now I can report it. And while I'm at it, I decided to turn it into a blog post - so I can check something else off my list.

Unfortunately I also discovered a few items that we brought home from our daughter's house and that are still sitting on the table because they need new homes in the kitchen. I wonder if I can find the energy to deal with them yet tonight.

And then there are the remnants of the resources I just gave away. That was a huge project and yep, three boxes went out the door... but there are remnants to deal with. There are always remnants. It seems like every major project has remnants. Leftovers. I'm not very good at dealing with them. I guess they will be tomorrow's project - unless I can get them done tonight.

Maybe I can do even one or two things tonight...

Happy birthday, tranquil mama

How can this young woman be mine? How could I have raised someone who would surpass me in so many ways? When you were little, I was proud of all the ways you were like me - and I still am. But somewhere in those early years you also began to develop characteristics that often elude me. Things like grace and kindness and respect toward other people. I guess you got those from your dad. Things that I have begun to learn from you. Like patience and diligence. And then there's your servant heart. And your calm demeanor and ability to bring peace to situations that are not naturally peaceful. I often remind myself of your words "Tranquila, Mama." I find myself grateful that you found a calm and gentle way to say it without using that other phrase - "Geez, Mom; take a chill pill!" - that lots of kids tell their moms. When I remember your tranquil reminder, I consciously take a deep breath and begin to ask myself what is causing me to feel stress and what I can do about it. I think that I am learning to be gentler and kinder and more patient with myself - and hopefully with others as well.

 

What fun to celebrate you by hanging with your kids. Watching them and listening to them makes me appreciate you even more. In particular, I love it when your daughter points out things in nature before I can even spot them - whether a tiny white butterfly or a barely perceptible dragonfly or the beautiful clouds today or the bright colored leaves on the ground or the tree with barely any leaves left on it. It always surprises me to hear explanations about the beauty of nature coming from your tiny three-year old. I can just imagine you taking the time to explain to her how to notice and count the gossamer wings or which bees "won't hurt you" while you also teach healthy habits by explaining that some things can make you sick and how to prevent that. Once again I learn from you and her - yes, even to shore up my own healthy habits and especially to refresh my sense of wonder.

But it is not just your kids that make you look good. Your hubby's references to you in his sermons... High praise indeed. He says he didn't know the word "nag" because you never do it! Whoa! I sure can't take credit for that one! But I can celebrate it and learn from it.

Actually there are several things that you DON'T do that most people do. Things like having to express your opinion on everything that comes into view. Things like venting your frustration in inappropriate places or ways. Things like putting people down. Things like judging those who are different from you. I can learn much from your example - by observing the things you don't do.

Yep, I celebrate you today. I am so glad that you were born and that it has been my privilege to be your momma. Happy birthday, dear girl.

The ABCs of reaching a goal

I did it!

I completed a goal. A pretty big one even. I not only finished it, but I surpassed it.

Yep, that is big news because I don't often succeed in reaching my goals. In fact, it is a woefully rare event.

The challenge was to walk 100 miles in a month. I knew that was not reasonable for me - so I set my personal goal at 40 miles for September - something much more doable. Amazingly I hit that goal on Day 18 - way ahead of time - so I decided to keep going. Then I remembered that I had walked almost 40 miles in August so hey, why don't I combine the two months?

It had actually been suggested that we could take two months - or longer - to do the 100 miles so why not? I started pushing toward this secondary goal buoyed up by my early success. I am thrilled to report that I made it - and even a day early.

That's right; I walked 100 miles during August and September.

A goal set and a goal met!
Two goals set and two goals met!!!

Like I started to say, my relationship with goals and goal setting has been a little rocky.

I really like the idea of setting goals. It seems like such a smart thing to do. A strategic thing. Goals feel somehow noble. Lofty. Transcendent. I have been known to get excited or at least hopeful about goals.

Unfortunately, I've also been known to get discouraged and defeated about goals. About falling behind and failing to reach them. Therefore, because my track record for completing goals is not great, I never quite know whether to make them or not. I don't want to live aimlessly and not know where I am headed, but neither do I want to set myself up for failure.

Not willing to completely give up on the idea of setting goals, I have tried to observe some of the things that seem to work for me. Things that tend to be associated with success. My success. I'm smart enough to realize that it might be strategic to make use of those things that work for me. Here are a few that I've noticed with this 100-mile goal - as well as with some epic writing goals when I participated in NaNoWriMo each of the last four years.

Accountability
This is another tricky concept - one that can easily be misused or even abused. All too often I've heard people make lots of noise about accountability in cases where I have not seen any positive results. I know to stay away from several "types" of accountability. But at least one kind of accountability works for me. I suppose it might also be called "approval addiction" in my case. For certain rewards - like words of admiration and affirmation, like hugs and pats on the back, like empathy and encouragement, I can push myself to do hard stuff.

So the trick for me is to figure out how to get people to line up and cheer for me as I struggle to the finish line.

Okay; so maybe I'm being a bit facetious, but how do I entice people to support me? Sometimes it is as simple as offering the same encouragement to them. Sometimes it is in the comraderie. Sometimes an online group will serve that purpose for me. Sometimes I have to be creative to figure out how to find the encouragement that I need.

Does that seem a little egotistical? A bit self-centered? Of course it is. Or at least it would be if I weren't willing to reciprocate and offer something in return. Yah, yah, I know; this probably sounds like a really soft form of accountability. Rather squishy and ineffective. Perhaps you believe that accountability must be firm and tough - and maybe it does for some people. But that brand can also feel very unsafe and harsh - and for me that is downright de-motivating.

Yep, in the case of my surprising success, much of the credit goes to the fact that I had an audience. That could seem like the wrong motivation, but hey, it worked!

Baby steps
I don't know about you, but when I get excited about setting new goals I often want to jump right in and get 'er done. Right now. Why not just do a bunch of those miles today and the rest of them tomorrow? Yah, I might get impatient. And unrealistic. If this goal is lofty and good, then I tend to think in terms of grand steps to get there. The only problem is that I often am not capable of accomplishing huge grand steps.

What I can usually accomplish are small steps. Baby steps. One friend (i.e.: accountability buddy) often reminds me to set aside just 15 minutes each day - even though I might think that doesn't seem like enough. Another keeps encouraging me to take those baby steps. And then there are times when I have to remind myself of my own conclusions about picking just one thing to work on. Just. One. Thing. And then another.

Some days I feel like I just can't do it. Maybe I will talk myself into getting out there and walking just half a mile. Shoot; some days I can only convince myself to put on my shoes and go out the door and walk around the cabin and come back in. But usually, when I do that... Well, you know... usually I end up walking a little farther than I thought I could.

Cumulative effect
Have you ever noticed how things tend to pile up? Yep? No? Well, maybe not for you, but for me stuff accumulates in piles until the piles tip over and make new piles. Accumulation is a powerful thing.  And it is a force that can be either positive or negative.

I experienced the negative effects of poison accumulating in my system during chemotherapy. After the first round, I was kinda' sick and a little tired. After the second and third rounds, I was feeling sicker and more worn out. By the last round, well, let's just say that I did not feel very well at all nor did I have much energy. Sure enough I was suffering from the cumulative effect of the chemo in my body.

A similar thing happens in our homes or maybe on our desks. When we stay current and keep the desktop clear, it is easy to straighten up and be ready for the next project. But once we let things start to pile up, they seem to grow out of control at warp speed. There we see the negative side of accumulation.

However we can learn to take advantage of the positive power of accumulation and harness it for our own purposes. I can do today's portion today - and maybe even a little bit more. Then tomorrow I do it again and the miles add up.

This is why month-long goals work well for me. If I declare that I will do certain things every day, I set myself up for failure. But if I am working toward a cumulative goal, I get my kicks out of doing a little extra each day and getting ahead of schedule. Then if I miss a day, I don't fall behind. When I work on a cumulative goal, the momentum builds. I get excited and it helps me keep going.

Oh, and you better believe that I count every one of those baby steps I was talking about. Put enough baby steps together and it makes a mile. My petite little granddaughter proved that the other day. Her legs are even shorter than mine - so she takes even smaller steps than I do. When she walked with me the other day, we just kept taking her size steps and sure enough; we walked more than a mile.

...

And these little jewels (accountability, baby steps and cumulative effect) work with words as well as with miles. I have observed these three things working toward my success in major writing projects for NaNoWriMo. Four times now I have cranked out "a novel" of 50,000 words during the month of November. True, they will probably never be published - at least not without a LOT more work! But I have used excerpts here and there and plan to do more with two of the books. But you know what? Even if I never publish a word, it was still a great experience and a great accomplishment. I built some awesome writing habits and I learned so very much in the process.

Once again I owe that success to having a support group, to typing just a few words at a time and to the power of those words adding up line by line by line, one day after another.

I am thankful that I am learning how to take advantage of these three concepts - accountability, baby steps and the cumulative effect - because I am really glad to finally have some successes in reaching my goals. Now that is cause for celebration!

 

So THAT's what's wrong with me!

 

I used to wonder what was wrong with me. Or at least I used to get frustrated with certain of my tendencies. Tendencies like being a great starter but a lousy finisher. Like letting my FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) lure me away from getting things done and meeting my own deadlines. Like my intense interest in so many kinds of projects, jobs, ideas, etc. Like my inability to decide between all of the wonderful options. Like my uncanny ability to gather and remember connections with people from around the world, but not knowing whether/how could be a positive thing. Like my longing to take this class and that course just because I wanted to learn about it, but had no idea how to use it for any financial benefit.

I was intrigued by my idiosyncrasies, but was sometimes embarrassed by them as well. I guess I often felt that I was weird. Abnormal. A misfit and maybe even a loser - because of my perceived failure to follow through on supposedly important things.

I finally began to realize that those idiosyncrasies are a special part of my uniqueness and I am mostly happy about them now. I am intrigued by them and by wondering where they will lead.

As I have gradually begun to accept and celebrate the benefits of the complex being that is me, one of the things that has helped me is the idea that I am a multipotentialite. Yep, there is a name for this! For people like me. How fun!!! I bumped into Puttylike a couple years ago and quickly identified with the things discussed on this site. I discovered others who are learning to celebrate their own multipotentialite selves. Learning how others make the most of their multipotentiality has been beneficial to my own journey.

Over at Puttylike, Emilie Wapnick describes a multipotentialite as "a person who has many different interests and creative pursuits in life."

Multipotentialites have no "one true calling" the way specialists do. Being a multipotentialite is our destiny. We have many paths and we pursue all of them, either sequentially or simultaneously (or both). Multipotentialites thrive on learning, exploring, and mastering new skills. We are excellent at bringing disparate ideas together in creative ways. This makes us incredible innovators and problem solvers. When it comes to new interests that emerge, our insatiable curiosity leads us to absorb everything we can get our hands on. As a result, we pick up new skills fast and tend to be a wealth of information.

One area particularly affected by my multipotentiality is my writing. I recently enrolled in a writing course as a major step toward becoming a serious writer. One of the first lessons was about finding your voice - which seemed to mean that I would have to drastically narrow my focus. A couple years earlier when I first started my blog, I hadn't a clue what I really wanted to write about. Somehow I had the foresight at that time to pick a name that has ended up being an umbrella for the diverse topics I have since found myself writing about - from my travel wanderings to my theological wonderings and everything in between. As I worked my way through that writing course, I chose to be patient with myself and to wait and see what would emerge - rather than forcing myself to arbitrarily narrow my focus. I am now rather happy with that decision. Even though I can easily admit that my wandering writing may lose me readership, I can also celebrate the broad diversity that I have ended up writing about. Most importantly I have been writing for me rather than trying to please a faceless audience. Presumably I will continue to learn more about writing for an audience and about building a readership, but writing for me has been a healthy start to my blogging career.

...

So yes, I am a multipotentialite and am enjoying the discovery of what all that might mean in my life. I can now celebrate this diversity that is within me. And I am realizing that many of my friends are also multipotentialites as well.

What about you? Might this describe you as well?

 

Celebrating my first-born

I'm celebrating today. On this date I became a mom. Forty years ago today. I had absolutely NO idea how wonderful it would be. I couldn't have imagined what an amazing woman that little one would become. I was going to say "that tiny baby" but no, none of my babies were tiny.

On that day I could only imagine the choices she would make in her life. I had no clue what dreams she might pursue to become a baker, a detective, an architect, a singer and dancer, a thespian, a world traveler, an attorney, a social worker, a counselor, a comedian or a writer, but she did indeed become several of those.

Neither did I know that she would be a teacher, but I quickly began to discover that she had much wisdom. By the time she was in kindergarten she was teaching her sister how to read and teaching me about standing up for the underdog. Through the years she has taught me so much - about tolerance and compassion, about body image and fashion, about facing my fears and about living courageously.

Somewhere along the way during those early parenting years we came across the birth order theories which I can't remember now, but I think she was a typical first-born in at least a couple ways. Like being courageous and decisive and responsible and a natural leader and a high achiever. She certainly has been a leader and an influencer. And an exemplary friend.

Yes, I am celebrating today - that this baby girl came into my life.

But I am also celebrating something brand new today - the beginning of her new blog.

For years we have all been telling her that she really needed to write a blog because she is incredibly funny. And wise and insightful. And did I mention hilarious? Yep, she has such amazing wisdom about life and she has most definitely developed her own unique and witty way of sharing it - to put it mildly.

Speaking of putting things mildly, she doesn't do that. Mild is not exactly her style. Her writing might better be described as sassy crass - something not necessarily appreciated by grandma-types. However, this grandma (and proud mom) continues to learn from the hilarious and sage counsel of this amazing woman.

I love you, Stacy-girl, and am so honored to be your momma.

I celebrate you today - and every day.

...

By the way, her blog, Fat Aunt Sassy Sees the World, covers a wide variety of topics about self-image and wellness, about confidence and courage and about following one's dreams and maybe even discovering one's awesome potential.

Do you happen to know a woman who struggles with esteem issues, with always needing to have a man in her life, with insecurity or fear? Of course, you do. We all know women like that. You may want to check out this blog and pass it along.

When is church?

 

 

"A joyful noise we will make."

Kids rocking out to that sentiment as they sing it.

Those kids have some moves!

...

Sitting around the campfire enjoying a yummy multi-course Sunday morning brunch. Sipping a second (or maybe third) cup of cappuccino to ward off the chilly wind moving through the trees. Good conversation. Fun music. And yes, kids dancing and making joyful sounds. A duet of strong beautiful voices blending on an old hymn. Lyrics prompted on iPhones via Google - rather than hymnals or PowerPoint. Stimulating discussion about faith and orthodoxy. Freedom to ask questions as well as freedom to not have to have all the answers. Freedom to get up and find another cup of coffee. Love shared and love received.

Now THAT is church.

It was not lost on me that this was indeed Sunday morning. In fact, it was even somewhere around 11 a.m. on Sunday morning - the magical hour for "real" church according to some Christians. The time to be in church if one is to be certain and secure about one's spiritual condition.

I sat there remembering friends who have made it known to me that they were concerned about us because our house church met on Tuesday night instead of Sunday morning. There was a certainty implied that Sunday morning is THE time to be in church or else. I'm not exactly sure what the "or-else" is but certainly the idea that something is lacking in my spiritual growth and maybe something to be feared for my eternal salvation.

If those friends could see me now... You know? I sort of wish they could - so they wouldn't have to worry about my spiritual condition. See. I got the time right this week. Church on Sunday morning rather than Tuesday night. Maybe they wouldn't worry about me now. At least maybe not this week.

Well, except for the location...

Can it be "real" church if it happens out in the great outdoors? Under towering trees and ever-changing clouds...

 

...

 

A joyful noise we will make.

On Sunday morning.

On Tuesday evening.

Whenever.

Wherever.