Writing Mishap Turns To Blessing

February 12, 2012 By

Today my brother Reid would have turned sixty.  A few weeks ago I found a letter I had written to him, but never sent. It was a rant about stuff that I was angry with him about eleven long years ago.  I thought, “Hmm … maybe I can use this in my memoir.”

As a first step I rewrote it to make it clearer and more understandable. Maybe I could include it as it was. But reading it to Sharon, who is one of my best “reader/listeners,” we found it didn’t work.  And it didn’t work the second time I rewrote it either.

After returning from Florida and getting caught up on the “to dos” that pile up when I’m away, I pulled it out again. Rereading it for the hundredth time I started fiddling with it in a new writing program (Scrivener) I was trying out. It suddenly disappeared. I tried everything I could think of to find it.  I checked the trash.  I checked my documents to see if I had tucked away another copy for just such an occasion, but never found it.

I spent five minutes muttering nasty words and feeling victimized by my *&?##!% computer and then it slowly began dawning on me that it was okay … it wasn’t working anyway… what’s the big deal?

I opened up a new file and began thinking about the letter and what I had been trying to say. My fingers started moving across the keyboard and the words began to flow.  I began listening to my frustrated self of eleven years ago. She expressed what was happening in her life that made her feel so bad and the things she was afraid of.  It started a whole stream of thought that had been missing when I’d written that letter trying to blame Reid for all that was wrong with the world.  Sure, he’d played a role in it, but he wasn’t the devil-incarnate I’d been making him out to be.

I’m glad I never sent that letter to him.  Right now I can see him sitting on the edge of a cloud, laughing at me.  Oh well, better late than never.

The story I was writing that started out as a vicious letter, is now unfolding in a much more truthful way. Things that I was having difficulty connecting are suddenly falling into place.

That doesn’t mean that I won’t stop accidentally deleting things or making other foolish mistakes.  What it does mean is that if I do, it isn’t the end of the world.  Sometimes the Muse has to step in when I’m being stubborn and not listening to her.  It is my story I’m involved in telling, but I’m not really the one doing the writing. I’m just taking dictation and occasionally trying to have my way with it.

Happy Birthday, Bro’!

Filed Under: family, Memoir, stories, Writing

I’m Home Again!

February 7, 2012 By

This last week was one of the most awesome getaways I’ve ever had.  My dear friend Sharon and I spent the week at her oceanfront condo on Hutchinson Island in Florida.   It was heavenly.

We walked the beach daily collecting treasure … rocks, shells and whatever else of interest that washed up on the shore.  We watched pelicans, sanderlings, gulls and my favorite of all, magnificent Frigate Birds soaring above us.  On our first morning there, Portuguese Men-of-War, from tiny babies to adults,  carpeted the beach in their airy blue and pink regalia, threatening walkers with their toxic tendrills spread about them.  They disappeared the next day, and we only spotted one or two through the ensuing days.

My collection of hearts!!

There were no rules and regulations, except for the one below.  Being in Florida where Boomers and us older folks gather in winter, you’ve got to be careful. Little people are not the only ones who wear diapers :)!!

No Diapers!

We awoke when we felt like it and stayed up one night until one in the morning talking and puzzling over the state of the world. We ate when we were hungry enjoying fresh watermelon and berries, yummy salads … chicken, couscous with olives and feta, green leafy ones with artichoke hearts, avocado, and crunchy broccoli slaw.

Most of all we played and got to know each other better.  I found myself being more honest and open than I can ever remember.  Sharon can listen and catch things long before I can figure out what I’ve said. So it was also a huge learning time.

On Sunday, my last day, we went to a birthday party for two sets of twins who had just turned one.  Members of Sharon’s extended family, they were born to two loving women who live together and decided to have a family.  They both got pregnant and both bore twins, all born on the same day.  There are three boys and one girl, all beautiful, and being cared for by two of the best mommies in the world with help from grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  Both moms teach school. They are better women than I could ever be.  Two kids, three years apart were all I could handle, never mind being with other people’s kids all day long.

It was a delightful party. Sharon’s family members were welcoming and loving.  A family group of individuals like that one might not necessarily agree with each other on a lot of issues, but they get along and do love each other. My own relatives, scattered across the country have never been close. We rarely see or talk with each other unless someone dies.  Being with Sharon’s down-to-earth, soulful people was an experience I’ve rarely encountered.  I’m just a mite envious of her.

I am happy to be home. It’s cold but there are many sweet memories from this past week that will warm me through the rest of Virginia’s winter days.

Hug a friend and celebrate who they are!!

I walked on Sharon's Beach every day!

Filed Under: family, Friendships, Gratefulness, The Sea, Travels

Melt Down

January 25, 2012 By

In the process of preparing a stew to throw in the crock pot, get the laundry in and simply neaten up the place after days of stagnation and being sick, I suddenly realized that I have today, tomorrow and Thursday to get my act together.  On Friday I’ll go up to DC to see a few shows and maybe a museum or gallery. Returning late on Saturday, I’ll pack a bigger bag and head to Florida on Monday morning where I’m looking forward to spending a week with a friend.

After four days of feeling crappy, I’m feeling somewhat better.  I can breathe, though sometimes I’ll have one of those coughing spells that makes me sound like the Bloodhound who lives up the street. My energy is returning slowly. Just not fast enough for ME.

ME, I, whoever! The part of Joan that likes to keep moving, doesn’t like to sit for long periods of time, and starts telling herself stories when she can’t do what she wants.  The story about being sick and how she hasn’t exercised in days and is sure she’s gained ten or twenty pounds by now.  The story about all the stuff that she didn’t get done because she was sick and how in the world is she going to get it all done before leaving on Friday.

Mostly it’s a story about feeling sorry for herself and another story she was planning to get started writing this past week.  A story that is crucial to her memoir project, filled with lessons. She was driven to begin the writing when that dang cold came to visit.  Her head hurt most of the time and it was hard to breathe. She was terribly tired.  Her husband was away and somehow she had to keep up with taking care of the pets and feeding herself.  During all of that, the inspiration for writing the story for her memoir slipped away into the ether and the page where it was to start remains empty.

Then this afternoon she had to go out briefly and realized that the sun was shining and she didn’t need a sweater or a coat because it’s sixty-one degrees.  She saw the moss that grows on the stonewall green and glowing after several days of rain, snow and sleet.  She saw daffodils peeking through the still wet garden soil and a shrub beginning to exhibit its tiny white flowers.

At that moment Joan’s other part came alive realizing that she’d not been living in the here and now, not living her intentions, not trusting that when the writing wants to happen it will happen and that being sick is not the end of the world.  She forgot that taking care of herself, without stress and strain is the most important thing she can do for herself.  After all, last week was supposed to be a retreat!  Why not be sick?  Thank goodness she’ll be better for her trip!

Things will be on the quiet side here until she returns tanned, renewed and ready to tackle whatever comes her way.  Spring is not far off.  Let’s all watch the slow unfolding of the season and live each moment as it is.

Filed Under: Memoir, Navigating Through Life, Retreats, The Seasons, Travels

My Week On Retreat

January 21, 2012 By

Iphone camera with wide-angle lens.

What was it that I said last Monday?  Something about a retreat?  Well, in some ways it has been like that and in other ways it hasn’t.

It’s been a busy few days, that’s for sure.  There hasn’t been any lolling around.  I’ve been busy every minute.  At the moment I’m sick.  When Bill went off to New York he took his blasted cold with him.  I thought I was safe.  Hah!!  I took care of myself, took Chinese herbs, got plenty of sleep and ate healthy foods.  I was feeling great until yesterday morning when I woke up with a head that felt like it was filled with concrete.  My nose dripped like a faucet that hasn’t been properly shut off and I have not one scrap of energy.

I didn’t go to yoga. But with an ice storm on its way, I did hurry to the grocery to stock up the pantry.  I bought fruit, deli quinoa salad, greens.  Two small almond cookies went home with me. But I turned my back on the dark chocolate and those almond croissants I adore. I’m suffering now.

Iphone camera with telephoto. Don't like what's happened in the corners. Something to figure out.

Besides doing some writing, I’ve mostly been going through one of the boxes of old journals I’ve kept.  It’s been interesting and is helping me to get life events in order for my memoir writing.  Many of my entries are boring lists of what I was doing from day-to-day.  But there is meaty material as well. I’m so glad I didn’t burn those ratty looking notebooks. I threatened I do just that during the last move.  But Lisa, my daughter, came to their rescue, saying, “Don’t you dare.”  So their lives were spared.

Iphone camera with macro lens.

Just last week I discovered a range of inexpensive lenses made for the Iphone camera. (I think they’ll fit most cell phones.) They came yesterday and this morning I’ve had fun, trying them all out.  There is a macro/wide-angle lens, a fish-eye and a telephoto lens as well.  The instructions say to place the small, magnetic metal ring (provided) around the lens on the phone.  It has an adhesive on one side that is supposed to keep it stuck to the phone. But it didn’t stick to the glass the Iphone is made of and came off with the lens I was using every time I wanted to change it.  So I stuck it on the phone case instead and that did the trick.  You simply place the lens on the ring and it is held in place by the magnet. What fun!!

I have been head-over-heals in love with my Iphone camera.  It is amazingly as good as the fancy Mamiya I used for my work in fine art photography.  The only problem is stability and when you get to be my age and have a bit of a tremor, it’s a problem.  But with practice I’m hoping that will improve.  I’m very excited since I still love to do some photography but am well past wanting to lug around a tripod and a bag filled with heavy, expensive lenses. I can tuck these cute, tiny things in a pocket or my purse and be prepared to capture an interesting moment that I might want to use on this blog.

Iphone camera with fish-eye lens.

All in all this has been a great mini-retreat.  I’ve enjoyed everything but being sick. And a few days after Bill left, I remembered that I had to do his chores as well as my own.  I’d forgotten to clean out the litter pans and with three cats choosing to use the same pan, even when there is one for each one of them, it gets problematic if you forget.

Another problem is that there are only a given number of hours in each day.  I must have dreamed that when you are on retreat you get a few extra hours each day.

More Macro work.

Filed Under: Dreams, Memoir, photography, Retreats, stories, Writing

One Day At A Time

January 16, 2012 By

Lily having a cat nap. I may join her!

Today is the beginning of my weeklong retreat right here in my house.  Bill ships out in the morning for one of his “New York Theatre Binges.”  He is a theatre man, through and through.  He acts, he directs, he writes plays and teaches about most of the above.  His binges entail going up to the Big Apple and seeing as many On, Off, and Off-Off Broadway shows he can fit in during four or five days.  On matinee days he sees two.  On days when there are no matinees, he’ll also take in a movie or two … mostly Independent films that will likely never make it to Charlottesville.  He has five days this time. There will be a host of people waiting to hear his opinions about what he saw on his blog, View in the Dark, which he only seems to keep up with after one of his treks to the big city.

I don’t join him on these binges because I don’t like to spend my days sitting in dark rooms, no matter how good the play.  When I do go with him it’s a different trip entirely.  If the weather is nice and warm they we will take a trip to Central Park to just sit and watch people living their real-life dramas … walking their dogs, rushing, arguing, playing soccer or baseball.  We will see a number of plays and movies, but we’ll also go to at least one art museum or gallery.  I like to just ride the bus sometimes and watch the city unfold from my window seat. We might visit Ellis Island or some other place of interest.  We always eat extremely well, having a big meal at noon and snacking in the evening.  It’s lots of fun and I love going with him, just not in January, when cold winds whistle through New York’s grand canyons.

So it’s here I’ll stay this time to look after myself, the cats and the dog.  I’ve not got much planned.  I will pretend I am not here, I will write, I will read, I will eat well and I will exercise.  I have no appointments and can do whatever I want to do, whenever I want, without worrying about anyone else. I will miss my man very much, but these little mini-breaks from each other are what I swear keeps our marriage so delicious.  He’ll get the same kind of break at the end of this month when I go off to visit a friend in Florida for a week.  We both love our at-home-alone times.

Even though Bill is still here, I’ve already started doing my own thing.  I’m sitting here in damp sweats having exercised and stretched.  It’s almost noon and it feels good to not have to be anywhere.  I love to let the day unfold before me without a long list of places to be and things that must get done. Last week I started cleaning up the clutter on my desk and there is only one stack of papers left to go through.  Maybe this afternoon, maybe not.  One breath, one day at a time.

Filed Under: marriage, Retreats, Travels
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