Cleaning Out And Downsizing

January 31, 2017 By

Hellebores beginning to bloom in my garden.

In 2009 my husband and I decided we needed to move to a smaller home and get rid of the stuff we’d been carrying around with us for years. We put our house on the market, found a lovely home half the size of the one we were in, and began a giant purge. We moved to our new home in June of 2010 and are so grateful that we had decided to go ahead with what at the time was a very daunting process.

Yes, we simplified our lives, but stuff has a way of building up when you’re not looking. And to be perfectly honest there are boxes we still have not yet unpacked from that last move. Not wanting to get caught up in the same mess we were in before we came here, it’s time to clean things out again. The big question is, why do I need the things in those boxes that I haven’t missed in the past seven years? In the next few months I plan on opening up those boxes to see what they hold. I will also clean out the large file cabinet I stuffed old papers in at our last house. When we moved here I removed the important files, placed them in a smaller file-cabinet and promised to weed through the rest when I had time. Guess what? It never happened.

Now I’m yearning to unpack the mystery boxes, and get rid of all those useless files I haven’t gone through in years. I will give away or trash what is no longer useful or necessary. I sometimes wonder what we will do when we can no longer take care of this wonderful space we live in. But it simply isn’t yet time to worry about that. And when the time does come to move on, I don’t want to have to go through a major purge again. So here I am in clean-out mode. Just thinking about shredding old documents and giving away things I no longer want or need always lifts weight from my shoulders and frees my soul.

And it’s not just material goods I’m looking to get rid of.  In the past several months since my book was published I’ve taken time to get out, see more people, and have some fun. I want more time for that. Though I will never stop writing and will continue to blog here, I’ve decided to let my newsletter, published on the first of every month, go by the wayside. I’ve had trouble keeping both writing venues interesting to read. And having too many deadlines just doesn’t make me happy. I’d like time to perhaps write essays for other venues, read more, and continue the more relaxed and simpler life I’m enjoying. Some of you are following me both my blog and newsletter. I will be publishing a newsletter tomorrow to inform those who are only following my newsletter about my decision and to encourage them to follow me here.

As for this blog I intend to keep publishing it weekly on Tuesdays, but from time to time may publish it on another day of the week instead. It all depends on what life throws my way. And if I plan to be away from my desk for a while I’ll let you know. I will give more space here to write about the books I’ve been reading, as well as keeping you updated on all the challenges and changes I’m working on.

For those of you who missed my announcement on Facebook last week, I did a radio interview with James Miller on Lifeology, about breaking generational behavior patterns. You can listen to it here.

Are you in the mood to clean out all the old stuff that is keeping you from moving on?

Filed Under: House Keeping Tagged With: , ,

Marching, Listening, With Love

January 24, 2017 By

Due to a severe crowd phobia and legs that are unable to support me for hours on end, I did not march in Washington or Charlottesville last Saturday. I did however march through my neighborhood to honor all of my friends and relatives who went to towns and cities around the world to let their voices be heard. My spirit walked beside those who marched for unity, love, equality, truth, freedom, and non-duality. My spirit walked beside those suffering from war, poverty, hatred, hunger, disrespect, and for those who can not see. I walked and prayed to end the idea of the the good versus the bad, Republicans versus Democrats, men versus women, and those who hate because not everyone is on their side.

I am disturbed by the idea of the “Other.” Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Hindus, white, brown, black, yellow, straight, gay, trans, rich, poor, pro-lifers, pro-choicers, male, female. We really are all one. I’ve watched polarity and negativity growing on Facebook, Twitter, and on the streets, among those who had at one time seemed to be united in their cause. For months fear and hysteria have gripped our nation. I was there along with everyone else.

Now that the deed has been done, and Donald Trump is the new president, we’re still breathing, we’re still alive, and we still live in the best country on earth, on the bluest, most sparkly planet in the Universe. That, however, does not mean that all will be well. Climate change will still happen, some people will still hate one another, many will continue to worship money, and few of us will agree with everyone else all of the time.

There is a huge amount of work to be done. Being kind, taking care of ourselves as well as those who stand next to us, speaking out, making phone calls, signing petitions, and writing letters are some of the things we can do.

Since seeing the turnout on Saturday, I feel better about the future of our country. I will work to respect everyone’s individuality and belief systems. I will work to look beyond my own prejudices and look at what is best for all of us. I will work at being loving and kind even when I don’t see eye-to-eye with those around me.

MAY YOU AND ALL CREATURES BE HAPPY
MAY YOU AND ALL CREATURES BE SAFE
MAY YOU AND ALL CREATURES BE FREE FROM SUFFERING

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: , , , , ,

The Work Of Living

January 17, 2017 By
Scattering My Mother's Ashes, October 2012. oakdale, New York

Scattering My Mother’s Ashes, October 2012. Oakdale, New York

Every so often I’m called to get back to work on myself. Old issues, that I thought I was done with, come popping back up. I find myself feeling lost, or that a piece of me is missing. Over the last couple of months that’s how I’ve been feeling. My book, Scattering Ashes, A Memoir of Letting Go, was finished and published in September. The writing and publishing had taken three years. But in reality I had been working on it, since 2001, when my mother came to live with my husband and me. It was a fifteen year odyssey of learning about myself, life lessons, and finding a way to continue moving forward.

Holding the finished book in my hands, doing a reading and book-signing here in Charlottesville, on September 20th, was the joyous finale of those long years of contemplating a particularly difficult time in my life, writing, rewriting, sharing it with others, and rewriting it all over again.

The morning after the reading, I drove to a local radio station at 7:45 AM, where I did a live interview about the book. I went home and crashed. I was exhausted and was ready for some time off. I didn’t want to think or talk about the book or my mother. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was no longer myself. I had become the book that I had spent all those years getting out into the world.

I spent hours examining that idea as if it were a a Zen Koan. “Does the dog wag the tail, or does the tail wag the dog?” It lasted a week or so until I got myself back. I wasn’t the book and I could now go on with the rest of my life. I began looking for a new pathway.

The election happened and then the holidays came along. I was distraught over the results of the election and then Christmas arrived. Not my favorite time of year. Although I was with people and busy day and night, I was depressed and lonely. I snapped at Bill when he said something that I deemed silly, and discovered I was back in an old pattern of not thinking much of myself. While other sister-authors I knew were moving ahead with marketing and promoting of their just published books, I was lagging behind, and feeling ashamed of myself for not having the energy or the desire to move in that direction.

I took time off from writing and started taking care of myself. The book would have to move along on it’s own. I read. I cooked. I slept. I took walks. I cried. I realized that Bill and I were entering what very well could be the last chapter of our lives. My aches and pains were multiplying and watching my sweet husband struggle with healing from two surgeries in one year made me sad.

Deciding to take advantage of whatever time I had left ahead of me, I came to the conclusion that it was time to celebrate us … Two old farts still full of piss and vinegar, who don’t want to waste time on unimportant things. I still have my brain. Although I can’t run a marathon or plan on skiing down an expert mountain slope, there are still things I can do to make my final years fun, important, and interesting while accepting that we will be slowing down and eventually moving on. Finding a way out of the muck of the last few months and making peace with myself seems like a good start.

Last Saturday, I went to an Insight Dialogue Meditation retreat taught by one of my favorite teachers and began finding my way back to myself. For those who don’t know about Insight Dialogue, it is learning to be aware of our own feelings, both physical and emotional, while speaking and listening to another person. One of the first things we learn is to pause, take our time when we speak, and become a better listener while being aware of our own feelings. The theme of the day was Living Peace, and as the outside world spun around me, I found Peace, at least for the moment. In early April I hope to attend a 5 day Insight Dialogue retreat, “Working with Difficult Emotions.”

Hopefully Bill and will also begin making some future travel plans and find ways to make life with our aging bodies more easeful.

Do you find yourself moving backwards at times? What do you do to begin moving yourself forward again?

Filed Under: Meditation, Mindfulness, Navigating Through Life, Retreats Tagged With: , ,

When Aging Came To Visit

January 10, 2017 By
Not much snow, but frozen solid!

Not much snow, but frozen solid!

It seems that 2016 was the year that the word AGING, started being used in conversation frequently around  my house, and as a result became a permanent resident. The twenty-five year old I still thought I was began to slow down. I noticed my body got stiffer and tired more quickly. I began rebelling against those things that I was supposed to accomplish on any given day. What took me fifteen minutes to do a few years ago took up to thirty, if not more precious minutes.

It was Bill who started it. At seventy-seven, he had knee replacement surgery early last January. My own right knee started hurting right after his surgery. I chalked it up to sympathy pains. I kept up my walking routine most days and continued with my pilates and yoga sessions. The main problem was when I was seated in the lotus position and ole Righty just didn’t want to stay bent up like a pretzel. I allowed myself straighten her out from time to time to ease the pain, but she still doesn’t like to do that. Now I’m noticing that when it’s very cold, like it was this past weekend (in the single digits),  the knee got very stiff and uncomfortable. Geez, Bill, why can’t you just keep your pain to yourself?

In early August when my sweetheart, Bill, was scheduled for shoulder replacement surgery in mid-September, my neck got stiff and both of my shoulders began to ache. More sympathy pains? Was it my rotator cuffs? Or was it those weighty burdens I carry around with me all day? Maybe it was the work of getting my memoir published, trying to stay caught up with blog posts, newsletters, check books, laundry, cooking, and the other chaotic day to day things I didn’t have any desire to do, or enough hours in the day in which to do them.

While Bill’s surgeries are healing beautifully, something is still amiss. It’s the brain. I discovered in November that I was a year ahead of myself. I kept telling people I’d be seventy-five on my birthday when I was only going to be seventy-four. Hooray! I gained a year! Things can’t be going south yet, can they? But then words became a big problem. I knew which word I wanted to use in a blog post or a crossword puzzle but I just couldn’t find it.

The urge to nap became a frequent visitor and is also now in residence. I need at least thirty minutes to close my eyes and drift off into a dreamy, relaxed state. I also find myself ready for bed at nine most evenings. My early morning walks out in the cold and windy mornings don’t carry the thrill they used to. I’m now waiting till it gets a bit warmer.

What is happening to me?  I think of  my cross-country skiing days in northern Vermont, when I couldn’t wait to get out into the frigid air and be the first creature making tracks in the deep snow.

Bill is falling into step with me.  When I asked if he wanted to go out to dinner and a movie the other afternoon, he said, “It’s too cold! Too windy!”  When I asked what’s gotten into him, he says, “I’m seventy-seven. I’m old!”  If he is old, so am I, right?

Sunday morning after it warmed up a bit, I took a quick twenty minute walk to check out the condition of the streets as we’d had an inch or so of snow the day before. It was nothing compared to the winter storms we’d experienced up north.  Most churches were closed for the day, and few cars passed down our street. I needed a few groceries. It was cold. It was windy. The street was very icy. And no neighbors were out … even the the young families who’ve recently moved here with their kids. Where were the sleds and the snowmen? Where was the laughter and the fun?

I wore a wool hat, gloves, boots, and my down coat. I felt quite comfortable, but by the time I got back home I decided I didn’t need those groceries after all. I decided to cuddle up in a wool blanket, next to our old-fashioned radiators, and read. If the youngsters in the neighborhood don’t go out in the cold, maybe it isn’t old age after all! Maybe I’m just getting smarter.

Here is a very moving meditation on aging by Parker Palmer.  He has such a wonderful way of expressing what growing older is all about.  He’s inspired me to just go with it and enjoy.

Filed Under: Aging and Mortality, Winter Tagged With:

The Word for 2017

January 3, 2017 By
When you see the light stop and take another deep breath.

When you see the light, stop and take another deep brea

Wow, Happy New Year!  Where does the time go?

We’ve all had people tell us, “Life ain’t easy.” And all of us would like to escape the pain and anxiety brought on by that thing called life, especially those things that we have no control over. We constantly struggle to set things straight and keep our hearts from aching. We cling to the past, take revenge, utter nasty words, give those who disparage us the finger, and maybe worse. Loss, illness, rejection,the political situation in our country and the world, can send of us off into a state of rage, depression, and angst that keeps chewing at us until there is little of us left. We give up, slam a door behind us, climb into our caves, and rant to ourselves and anyone else who will listen.

One of those things I have always struggled with, especially in the last couple of months, is my reactivity. Like when someone says something nasty or critical to me or someone I care about. Or when another driver parks his or her car in the spot I’ve been trying to get into for the last 15 minutes. Or when I’m on a six hour flight and am seated next to a screaming toddler and a parent who doesn’t know how to handle her child. I can also be triggered by certain words, people who look like other people who have been abusive, and certain public figures.

Too often I embarrass myself with snide remarks, critical push back,  nasty looks, or sighs that can only mean I’m pissed off. While I experience brief satisfaction in doing those things, it never lasts. I break down in tears because I’ve made such an ass of myself, along with feeling a deep sense of shame. None of that does anything for my sense of self-esteem.

You’d think that after living with my mother for seven years and writing a book about it, that I’d be an expert at pausing before putting my foot in my mouth. But being as human as anyone else, I tend to forget what I’ve learned. I’m always amazed  how certain issues we thought we were done with rear their ugly heads somewhere down the road, reminding us that we’re truly never done.

So once again I’m planning to seriously work on this problem by relearning to PAUSE before I react.  If I can count to ten, take several deep breaths before I say a word, or take a quick time out, perhaps I can tame my wild feelings.

So I’m saying,“whoa,” to myself. I’ve chosen PAUSE as my word for 2017, in hopes of leaving that ugly part of myself behind. I’ve made little signs as reminders to stop and breathe. I’ve taped them in places where I’ll see them every day. There is one at the bottom of my computer screen, and one on the mirror in my bathroom.

I also plan to take time to pause in other areas of my life. It will help  me to stop and rest when I’m feeling exhausted and overwhelmed.
And perhaps the PAUSE sign on the refrigerator help tame my appetite after having spent the last two months overindulging in the season’s fabulous food.

Do you take time to pause before reacting to a difficult situation?

Have you chosen a word for this New Year?

Filed Under: A New Year, Intentions, The Journey Tagged With:
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