Wants and Needs

I am reading a book called The Little Paris Bookshop by Nina George. At first quaint, somewhat frivolous, but then its characters fill out and its messages become deeper, more meaningful.

Which means I am now writing down phrases – snippets of wisdom that provoke further contemplation.

‘Love may come and go, but the caring goes on.’ Oh, yes, it does.

‘It only takes one word to hurt a woman, a matter of seconds, one stupid, impatient blow…but winning her trust back takes years. And sometimes, there isn’t the time.’ Life feels shorter under the task or maybe, one perceives they have little left and therefore there isn’t time to figure out how to regain her trust.

‘And that is why it hurts so much. When women stop loving, men fall into a void of their own making.’ Yes, they do and it is horrible to see because it becomes obvious that they don’t comprehend, don’t acknowledge, that their new-found feelings of loss are the result of their own actions. So they do nothing.

And she can do nothing more than continue the caring. Because she wants to.

A Penny for Your Thoughts

      "A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. …
      Else tomorrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another."      -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Bits and bytes of information bombard every one of us every day. Each single seed can also be deposited in the minds of millions of other people. Everyone’s thinking is influenced by what is seen, felt, read and observed. We process most information on a subconscious level. It becomes a Dagwood sandwich, wrapped and stowed for later consumption.

In sleep, some of those random thoughts gel into dreams; recent impressions form the scenarios. If aware of it, we can even smell and feel in our dream state which always startles me when I experience it. The devil of it is that when the curtain comes up in the morning, another good dream is obliterated. Poof!

Its impression, most likely, remains in our subconscious. Hence, the reoccurring dream. All these thoughts swirl, lay claim to lockers in our storehouse of a mind. The combination is lost, found, lost again. The bits gather with other bits, form communities of thought.

There is a lot of simmering going on under the surface. And simmering is also going on in the minds of others, too. Even those we have never met may have the same thoughts we do. It explains the scientists on two different continents coming up with the same premise or similar research results. Happens all the time.

"Gee, I thought of that years ago,” a young man laments when he reads of a new discovery. “If only I had acted on it, I would be the one in the newspapers. I would be the one who made millions.”

“He stole my idea.” Ah, no. No, he didn’t. He just was more intrigued than you were about the idea batting around in his head and did something about it. A missed opportunity for one, growth and satisfaction for another.

A penny for your thoughts?

Perspective Requires Much Consideration

"The universe is transformation; our life is what our thoughts make it."  

Marcus Aurelius

    I picked up a neighbor to give him a ride part of the way to work this morning. I often do this and we mostly talk about the weather, or he does and I listen because I think each day's weather is interesting. Today he talked about a job posting and that it only paid $10 hour. He griped about it and the sad state of affairs in America and had told the interviewer that times were changing and soon it would be $15. Perhaps so, but I imagine it didn't further his cause.

    It got me to thinking of my recent experiences in Hungary where I was surprised that the American dollar bought so much more than the Hungarian populace could afford. They would, perhaps, be excited about $10 an hour instead of looking for more from the get-go.

    We all want to live a good life, a prosperous one. Most do their best to achieve it. Some complain endlessly and get nowhere.

    Personal perspective forms from your own particular point of view and your thoughts are, of course, its basis. Others may sway your thinking. Nasty little inroads of doubt may creep in. But just as often, fresh air may flow through your thoughts when the stars align and things are going well. Life is like swaying on a swing. Sometimes you reach the sky and sometimes your feet get muddy as you hop off.

    "Our life is what our thoughts make it." Yes, it certainly is.

Through the Looking Glass

Montmartre Reflection

Ah, a new year arrives. It is a crisp, cold day and the sun shines down on the shiny coat of thick ice on the lake. A massive storm is brewing to the west, churning and drifting our way. Tomorrow, the scene may be very different but inside, warmth will fill the rooms and there is always tea to heat the body from the inside out.

These past five days have been restorative. I have picked up my clutter, rearranged my sitting room so I can fit in my paints and supplies for the winter. Curtains, a project long overdue and neglected, have been sewn for the guest room sliding door – lush thick folds of fabric to keep the chill outside where it belongs.

Mending has been done, Marlena de Blasi’s new book, Antonia and Her Daughters, a gift from a friend, is slowly savored so as not to rush through the pages and reach the end before I am ready for it. I am traveling soon so I brought the rolling suitcase down to ready it for the trip. I will leave the Christmas tree up until Saturday – a few more days of enjoyment before memorable ornaments are once again stored away.

Their brief appearance makes them special. Released from their slumber, they evoke memories of holidays filled with laughter and good food, traditions long enjoyed. These accumulated treasures represent a lifetime of Decembers. Like old friends, they are a small part of the solace of the season. The rest is spiritual comfort and reflection.

Now I am ready to embrace my passions and grow. There are only a few pledges I will make to set the character of my new year. Now, more than ever, action requires the parameters of a plan.

I surrender to the notion that I will always be a person with myriad interests. I intend to fully give each its moment of attention without gazing lustfully at the ones not chosen.
 
Embrace the path – I will take one step at a time on paths which intrigue me and trust that they will not lead me astray. This will keep me upright in more ways than one.
 
Cherish relationships – in the moment and always.

Like the eagle, I will ride the wind with grace and strength, and return to a nurturing nest of inspiration and respite.

I will continue to balance activity with quiet contemplation and appreciate the growth from both. Simplicity will hone my focus.

Let's see how that goes....

I have been writing...just not here

As a female of the species, I excel at multitasking. Well, I did in my earlier life. Now I single-task in a multiple fashion. Moving from one thing to another, my mind plans the next foray with aplomb except for the occasional brain fade when I get to the next room and forget why I went there.

Single mindedness comes with age - at least I assume it does. It has for me. I savor more, do things completely so I don't have to come back to them and I ignore an overburdened closet simply by closing the door. Hey, it is important to pick your battles.

Art and writing are more important to me than dust. Lately, though, construction has planted plenty of the stuff on every surface of the house so I am back to multitasking. I write a bit and swipe a cloth over the desk. I sweep out the studio in prep for the summer, taking paints from their winter storage out to their regular home, while simultaneously swiping a counter top with a cloth as I pass by. I clean plaster dust and wood splinters from the inside of the washing machine (I mean, really guys?) and then do the wash.

The new bathroom is coming along nicely. I will be happy when we can stop going down two flights of stairs to use the other bathroom. It will be a twofold luxury when it is done in a few weeks.

I've kept up with my journal, adding watercolors to the pages when a light touch is needed and pictures of trips and construction progress to illustrate the dialog of my days. I spent four nights at an inn in Gloucester a few weeks ago, painting at a beach I found in Manchester-by-the-Sea on the first day. The air was cool - mid to high 50's - but the sun made it feel warmer. I sketched the scene, adding notes to my drawing so I'd remember the color of the water and the sweep of the clouds. The next day I set up my easel, digging the legs into the soft sand and, stretching a bungee cord over the tray, anchoring it with two big milk bottles filled with water. I accepted its quirky tilt - uneven ground being what it is.

Life is uneven. The axis tilts this way and that and I find my footing either by digging in and firmly planting my thoughts or flowing with it. Both work to different degrees. It would be plenty boring if there was a sameness to every day. I know people with lives like that. I guess they must like it that way because they continue to do it year in and year out.

I prefer edges that shift and change like the waves on the shore. When I was in Gloucester, the beach was different each morning. The clear, rocky beach of that first afternoon became riddled with seaweed on the second day. The sea pulled some of it out with the next tide so the arrangement was different - undulating strips of seaweed hiding sea glass treasures in with the pebbles underneath their mounds. I accepted the changes with a sense of excitement and discovery looking forward to rounding the corner to find out what I would see.

When things are serene, I find untold pleasure in my own discoveries. A good book, rhythmic stitches woven into the shawl I am working on and the plunge and pull of silk thread through a needlepoint canvas. Good conversation with friends culminating in laughter and hugs. I am grounded by my pleasures. They help me meet my challenges with a bit more grace.

Blizzards and Patience

As the media got hyped up for the impending New England storm last week, I listened with increasing excitement and delicious pleasure. While I knew it was probable that we'd lose electricity if the winds were intense, it didn't overly worry me. We had a fireplace, lots of wood and a freshly tuned-up generator.

Shawl from Nature's Wrapture by Sheryl Thies

I did what most New Englanders do, I did all the electricity-necessary chores, put fresh batteries in the flashlights, cooked soup and a chicken pot pie, got out my knitting and made a fresh batch of cookies loaded with chocolate chips. Nothing says comfort during a storm than chocolate chip cookies.

It is odd to watch a storm gather on a TV map and take a walk outside under a field of puffy clouds in a clear sky. They did fill in, though, towards the middle of the week and we knew the 'Euro model' would likely prove correct and we were in for a pissah of a storm.

My only disappointment was that the bulk of the storm was overnight on Friday and I missed it. The high winds rattled the rafters and I could hear the gritty sound of snowblast on the siding as I fell asleep. It was soothing. This one didn't feel like a threat.

While it was still coming down Saturday morning, things started dissipating before noon and then the skies cleared and the sun dazzled as it reflected off the pristine snow.

The snowplow didn't get to us until mid-afternoon (actually my choice when I answered his phone call). Take your time...in no hurry...won't be going anywhere. Smile, smile. I like the feeling of being snowbound. It is cozy, safe and there is something about it that prompts me to take it easy and do things I might not make time for - easy things, pleasurable things. I knit, packed for my trip coming up on Friday and, of course, cooked.

This time, there was no electricity loss in Lunenburg although southern Massachusetts got a triple whammy on that score. No one was allowed on the road after 4PM Friday which was taken seriously so accidents were few and emergency people and plows could do their jobs with fewer impediments. Oh, I imagine there may have been a few foolish people but I wasn't out there so I didn't see them and I prefer to think they were all sensible and did what they were told. After all, it was only a 24 hour storm.  What could be so important that you just had to get to a store during the storm?  I mean, surely you knew about it beforehand?

I am so glad we settled here. There is so much to enjoy - good friends and family and maple syrup and blueberries to pick by hand. Oh, floating in the water - lake or sea, take your pick, both are awesome. Mountains and vistas, seagulls and an occasional bear tramping through the backyard. Okay, I can do without the last one. But warm beach sand you can sink your toes into until you reach the cool layers below, that is a scrumptious pleasure. The smell of the ocean, the feel of the breeze off the water as it cools your heated skin.

The hushed silence of the world during a snowfall and your sense of peace rediscovered when you experience it.

A Shiny New Year

There is something about the transition from one year to another that has us all thinking about new beginnings or, maybe, second chances. Whether we will embrace them is up to us.

This year, mine are really neither one. My new year feels undeniably fresh and purposeful but a continuation of the last one. I am getting things done without the stress of not enough time (because there is enough when I take my time). I am enjoying friends and family, contacting those at a distance, looking forward to seeing business friends at upcoming trade shows and loving my family near and far. The wintry scene outside my window enchants me as the sun streaks through the bare branches brightening the snow in its path. The contrast with the blue hues deep in the shadows of the tall pines give the scene depth and interest.

It is as simple as that. I write while my tea brews. I slept with my hand on our dog between us and Bob's hand covered mine, both pleased to have this loving creature in our lives.

While there are a few worries (as there will always be) to balance the contentment, I am trusting that those involved will follow their heart's desire and find peace once again. If they need me, I am here. I am a good listener and thankful for that. I check in, offer support and try not to interfere. I am not always successful at the latter, though, and I hope that the ideas we discuss offer food for thought. Sometimes only a long hug or commiseration is needed and I am okay with that, too.

There will be waves in my new year - ripples - perhaps storms. I will sail my ship as best I know how regardless of the tides flung at me. All the more reason to relish the here and now, be grateful for my life as it is at this moment.

I do. Oh, yes, I do.

Early Resolutions

from A Cup of Jo

After burning the candle at both ends for the past week or so, the last package is wrapped, cookies are made (and some devoured) and I spent a wonderful Sunday morning dozing on the couch with my husband while listening to Christmas music.

My grief has mellowed into a reverent thankfulness. Priorities have shifted, commitments have been renewed. I have touched base with friends and family I have not talked with in quite awhile and checked in with those who need comfort or a little attention. A new baby has been born in our family this past week and her beautiful countenance warms my heart. We gladly welcome a new generation in the Swanson/Starybrat family.

It is usually New Year's Day which prompts resolutions and promises to better ourselves in one way or another. This year, my desire arrived early for tragically obvious reasons.  I have felt agitated and words have been darting around inside my head in a mad attempt to make sense of the world's violence and my part in it.

I do not have to condone it by sitting in front of the tube watching blood and gore, degradation and pain. I have been moving away from this type of entertainment for several years and have never watched horror movies or abusive stories so favored on Lifetime but my husband still watches a few shows which, although milder in content, still disturb me. Bones, Castle and NCIS, where the good guy wins and humor softens the human aspect of the shows, still have victims, still
offer entertainment through violence. I do not need it in my life, it does nothing to enhance it. I have been putting off more pleasurable creativity in order to keep him company but I have really had enough. I will explore other ways to spend time with him. If there are still things to pass along to younger souls at this late stage, I want them to be positive things, uplifting things.

I want what my dog offers me - uncomplicated affection. Relationships that expand my heart and broaden my horizons. If hurt, pain or sadness strikes, I want to be there to support and console.

Bob and Mario

I crave simplicity in mind as well as home. I am making good headway on both scores.We have set four years from August 2012 as goal for deciding our plan for what comes next in the scheme of things - retirement date, where we will live, downsizing - all the big questions facing those in their later years.

In the meantime, I plan to lighten my load, put my priorities in the right place for me and go with the flow. Life will happen, there will be tough things to face but there will also be countless joys to savor.

The Christmas music plays quietly in the background, the ornamented tree warms the room and there is a spritz or two in the cookie tin which will go perfectly with my tea. Time to move on....

Metaphorically Speaking...

I have always felt that I have a pretty busy life filled with things that need to be completed, concerns which tax my heart and a wish list of pleasures which rumble around in my head unfulfilled.  There is some truth to that.  A really busy life, though?  Perhaps it is more a busy mind which wants to do more in a day that has just so many hours.

There is also the energy aspect.  I do not have the stamina I used to have.  I can remember days filled to the brim with activity and stimulation.  Now some of that stimulation just plain wears me out!  Doesn’t mean I stop craving it, it just means I need it in smaller doses so I can savor the experience.  One thing at a time is better for me now.

A milestone year approaches unlike any other.  My feet are nearing the edge of a precarious cliff.  The flower-strewn meadow is behind me. Blades of bright green grass bend under my feet and I can feel their coolness between my toes.  I like it.  I want to stay in the meadow a bit longer so I sit down away from the edge and plant some flowers.

My seeds need good, rich soil to germinate.  There is no room for toxicity in my meadow and I haul away that which taints my ground.  As I turn toward the path from whence I came, I can see dull brown patches amongst the fragrant blooms.  All but a few trees are strong and sturdy which pleases me.  Only a small number have broken branches or decaying trunks and I acknowledge them with thanks for what they have taught me. 

As my eyes travel across the panorama, flowers of every hue fill my vision and crowd out the patches of dry earth.  A soft breeze ruffles my hair. There is so much more good in the world than bad.  I feel that my focus now is to stimulate a healthy ground and try not to over plant. 

Keeping the Mundane Out of My Ballet

For awhile now, I have been noticing the routine of my actions.  Getting up, getting ready for work - the patterns of my routines are mostly an unconscious ballet of concise motion.  On weekends, the pattern is more fractured.  Not burdened by the need to get out the door at a specific time, a certain relaxation of habitual motion is nice.

I have a desire to change all that.  I don't know why I am chomping at the bit to stir things up.  Perhaps it is all part and parcel to my edit and purge sweep to narrow the burden of stuff' to a pleasurable level.  'Simplify, simplify, simplify' - Thoreau. 

I was going through several of my craft drawers and rather than editing, I found myself reminiscing (must be that autumn thing).  Running my hand over needlepoint stitched many moons ago, discovering cards of antique buttons collected in a former life and treasures wrought with sweet memories I am loathe to discard tugged at my melancholy heart. 

It seems that I want freshness in my life without letting go of the comforts which include some of the usual habits.  Like a vase of fresh flowers from the garden's late season offerings, I crave a blend of old and new, comfort and adventure.

Autumn Reflections

I was just visiting Diana Baur at a certain simplicity as her inn's season is winding down and autumn visits the Piedmont in its wake.  She is looking at her seven years' history there and how different aspects of her life have prepared her for the challenges of a move to Italy and much different life than any she'd experienced before.

Frye Measure Mill, New Hampshire

As I wrote on her blog, I, too, am in a reflective mode but also one of underlying, fierce activity of the mind.  I have so much I want to do - so much to discover and savor!  As autumn in New England blooms with brilliant reds, oranges and yellows, it also signals the time when the same leaves I now enjoy on the hillsides will glide onto the ground in gentle waves and the scenery will change to something more austere.  The coming cold is not to my liking but I adapt.  I mean, frankly, in today's world, going from house to warm car to work and back again on the weekdays is not a hardship.  When the snow drifts down and builds on the tree branches in a fresh fluffy coat, I am mesmerized and love the journey.

My steps have brought me back to New England after a 30 year absence when I raised my family in Ohio and I am reveling in the sheer beauty of this area and all it has to offer.  While there are other places I would love to explore, I am thankful to be amongst such natural beauty every day.

Still, I have a few more dreams up my sleeve and, particularly at this time of year, they rise again just as summer wanes and winter's solitude is on the horizon. Time for reflection in front of a roaring fire instead of on a beach.  Time for brushing the sand off my path and seeing where it has meandered to get me where I am today. 

So far, so good.  A few bumps and bruises when I lost my footing but, overall, not a very rocky path.  I hope the road in front of me is rather smooth because I'd like that for awhile.  It will be what it will be, though, and I will adapt.  I always do.

Summer Winds

It has been a tumultuous summer.  The ups are now being savored and the downs released to the winds where possible.  Illness has stricken family and many friends.  It is hard to take it all in.  My heart hurts for their suffering.  There are times when I reach for the phone to call someone I haven't talked to in a long time only to stop a hair's breath away from the dial because I am afraid to find out something traumatic about them, too.  I call anyway and, yes, the news is a mixture of good and bad.  It is what it is and I know we will all live through it as best we can.  

I find quiet places and cherish the moments of contemplation and peace.  A beach facing the expanse of the Atlantic ocean offers a soothing rhythm.  An island on our lake offers blueberries and solitude.  The cottage in Rhode Island shared with good friends is a welcome diversion.  As we sink our toes into the sand of East Beach, the coolness deep under the hot surface reminds me that all of nature consists of layers of intensity.  I attempt to ebb and flow through my conflicting feelings as nature directs by its example.