Busyness and illness

I haven't blogged in a while, and I thought I would at least do one post for October since it seemed to flash by in the blink of an eye.  I was super sick, then I traveled, then I got sick again, then I had a mountain of stuff that needed immediate action.  It was busy. 

Homecoming calls for the old school Cons.

Santa Fe simplicity

Road trip!!

At home, room with a view

And in the midst of all this busy, between holding babies and grading papers, I came to some wonderful epiphanies about who I am and what I want.  Isn't that nice, when the busy in your life makes way for thoughtful reflection and epiphanies?  I spent a lot of time reading and more time journaling and writing.  I rediscovered poetry and found some new songs to gush about.  And I realized that where I am is pretty darn good.  I know what it feels like to want more; the feeling of dissatisfaction when looking around your life and seeing the same ol' and wanting the brand new because that somehow equates to something better.  I think this is better.  Right now is better. 

I'm kinda discombobulated today... I reconnected with coffee after my month-o-illness and suddenly I am all kinds of caffeinated.  But I will end with this excerpt of a poem I'm liking now:

And over one more set of hills,
along the sea,
the last roses have opened their factories of sweetness

and are giving it back to the world.
If I had another life
I would want to spend it all on some
unstinting happiness.

I would be a fox, or a tree
full of waving branches.
I wouldn't mind being a rose
in a field full of roses.

Fear has not yet occurred to them, nor ambition.
Reason they have not yet thought of.
Neither do they ask how long they must be roses, and then what.
Or any other foolish question.

"Roses, Late Summer" by Mary Oliver

Happy Autumn to you and yours.

What do you subscribe to?

I subscribe to some really good magazines.  There is no greater pleasure than sitting on my balcony with a coffee and a Coastal Living, or Mental Floss.  Recently, I resubscribed to a magazine I had canceled a while back.  It is a fashion magazine and I canceled it because its portrayal of women got a little too blatantly sexist and really just plain rude.  I like fashion; give me a layout where a stylish peacoat and a smart heel are paired ridiculously well on a darling woman who is leaping confidently across Fifth Avenue, and I'm like, "you go, smart-heeled girl, I bet you'll get that job you're interviewing for."  This magazine was definitely interested in using fashion to sell a message.  The problem is that the message wasn't "you go girl" but "you use your sexuality to get what you want, girl."  Okay, if I'm being honest, the magazine in question offered me a free scarf and a stupid low subscription rate, I was momentarily dazzled by the free scarf.  It is awesome.  I wear it all the time.

Truer words... Martha Beck's column in the Oprah magazine

This fashion messaging made me think about what ideas I subscribe to.  In the magazine stand of my brain, what ideas, beliefs and values am I subscribing to that are ultimately bringing me down?  I did a mental clean out of all my subscriptions.  The subscription of self-image came up a lot.  I'm no glamazonian super model, and the last time I wore a size zero was never.  But I finally had the realization (actually more of a der moment) that women's sizes and shapes are diverse, and they should be.  Women constantly subscribe to an unreasonable self-image because someone somewhere must have sent a dictatorial memo that there is only ONE standard of beauty that we all must follow.  And for what reason?  There is way more than one type of beautiful woman, and if we are all unique like snowflakes, then logic suggests that there is way more than one standard of beauty.  Are you still with me so far?

Another bunk subscription is other people's definition of success.  Do you ever feel like the moment you've accomplished your latest goal, almost immediately there is an anticlimax?  It could come as criticism from another source and it could be your own self-criticism.  It is sometimes very difficult for me to be okay with my version of success.  I think I'm doing okay, but someone comes along and sends a message that my success isn't somehow enough.  At this point I have to pause for thought and ask myself a couple of key questions.  One, do I appreciate what I have accomplished?  Two, did I feel successful?  If I can answer yes to those two questions, guess what?  I did it!  Allowing other people to define my version of success really saps the joy from my accomplishment. 

a fake tattoo... but a good permanent message

It is so imperative in this often contentious culture to subscribe to the things that ultimately make us happy and enrich our spirits.  If we find happiness and contentment in our lives, then we will be better humans, we will support others and we will feel the rich gifts that come with this one wild and precious life. 

The heart of the matter

Are we honest with ourselves?  I mean, there are some little white lies we tell all the time, but are we honest with ourselves about the things that really matter?  It's hard to do, right?  It's kind of scary to face the big ugly truths. If we face it, then we might have to do something about it.  It's easier to ignore the harsher realities and honesties and live for the moment. 

Remember that scene in The Matrix when Morpheus tells Neo to choose between the pills?  One pill will lead him back to his quiet and boring programmer's life, ignorant of the larger truth, and another pill will deliver him into the cold reality outside of the matrix.  For a long time, I took the safe pill.  I liked my little safety bubble; I could sit and watch episodes of Mary Tyler Moore and eat peanut butter cups.  But earlier this year, when the proverbial fit hit the shan in my life, I had to reexamine how the practice of self-medication was serving me.  It is okay to self-soothe when hard things happen, and we need to figure out what we need when we need it, but beyond that, we need to not be afraid of the big awful truth.

For one thing, the big awful truth won't have any power over us once we confront it.  For another, we won't have to carry it around everywhere once we face it.  Growth and change comes from facing the big awful, and we are all strong enough to face it down.  I find myself waking up each morning and confronting my little lies.  I want to make sure I'm not carrying around some giant elephant on my back and putting on a facade of "I'm fine".  That stuff festers and smells and starts to become truth even though it is a fiction I totally created in my head.  So I have these mini-interventions with myself.  What is true, what is false?

I was an early cheerleader for truth... and Niwot, but also truth...

And the outcome is always good.  Freedom comes with honesty.  I've felt so alive this year and it is because I'm leaning into the hard and scary and demystifying it.  Does it suck, absofreakinglutely it does.  But it replenishes and fortifies in it's wake.  Peanut butter cups do not replenish and fortify, maybe in a perfect world.  But in the meantime, I'm trying to be real and truthful about who I am and what I want. 

Summer days drifted away...

Yes, school is starting up in a few weeks and I am clinging onto the last days of summer (barbecues, afternoon naps, iced tea with friends) with both hands.  I revisited my summer to-do list and I think I did okay.  I read a lot, saw a ton of movies, I soothed babies and chatted with friends I haven't seen in a long time.  No regrets.  Summer days, like weekends, are there to recharge my soul. 

Okay, so I didn't learn French, I didn't watch the Story of English, and I spent an obscene amount of time sitting on a porch playing Drop 7 on my iPod while listening to The Boxer Rebellion, Regina Spektor and Sigur Ros.  I got a new high score.  Bonus.

But I DISCOVERED a lot this summer.  Discoveries are awesome, especially when you aren't looking for them.  I've said before in my blog that I often succumb to the "go, do, become" pressure of life.  If you haven't DONE this or GONE here or BECOME this, then what contribution have you made?  I don't know where this comes from, but that is a crappy voice to have on a vacation.  My summer motto was "sit, think, be; let the summer come to you".  And it did.

And the recharging came from this.  I like my summer to-do list.  It was a good guideline and made sense to have some goals, but I'm okay if I didn't learn French.  Tres bien!  Croissant! Bonjour! There.  It was more important to be present with others and watch the world go by. 

 

My friend and bandmate Jenn had this great epiphany about sunsets.  She's way smarter than I am (she has, like, five degrees) and she had this huge, metaphorical, connective dialogue with me about what she had learned from the metaphor of sunsets.  It got me thinking, sunsets have always been a little sad for me.  The day is done and there is a farewell that seems a little heart-tugging.  Out at the beach, I had to pause the scrabble or card game I was playing and go take a photo of the sunset.  In truth, sunsets are common as the rain, but different every night.  I saw the sunset as a transformational time when the page turns and the next chapter reveals itself.  No matter who you are, what you do, or how you live, you transform.  You can't help yourself.  I have seen the rate of change speed the hell up in my life lately.  The transformations that used to seem slower have increased their rate of change and my head spins a little bit in the process. And just like a sunset, it happens daily but is different every time.  

It was a very good summer.  I am happy, rested and ready for the challenges of the next school year.  The changes I've gone through are in a sense providential I think, as though something is coming and this version of myself needed to be ready for it.  I hope your summer was equally as wonderful.

Gone to Santa Fe

Santa Fe is pretty magical place for me.  I've never had a bad time there.  My friends keep moving there so I will always have a place to stay.  And the drive down is not too bad.  It is 6 hours and 21 minutes which is basically three episodes of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, Three of This American Life, lots of twizzlers and Annie's bunny mix, and three bathroom breaks.

What is it about this town that so attracts?  Is it the possibility of seeing George R.R. Martin in person and asking him what the eff is wrong with King Joffrey?  Is it running into a psychic at a bar who tells you your energy is, like, seismic?  Is it hunting for pumpkin butter at Trader Joe's?  In truth, it is all these things and more.  Maybe it is the way the adobe buildings settle into the landscape as though they sprung up out of the arroyos.  There are no Tudor mansions in Santa Fe.  

And it is all about art.  Art is everywhere in Santa Fe, and people want you to get all into their art and talk about art and argue about art and accept art.  And the art is everywhere.  No, that is not a soup terrine, it is art.  No, that isn't a nifty throw blanket, it is art.    

And I observed.  I'm trying to be all creative and start a band and write songs and generally not hide my light under a shrubbery, but I just needed a weekend to watch and listen and be.  Usually I am a spitfire of hilarity, just ask my friends.  I have been described as "life of the party" on more than one occasion.  But not this weekend.  I'm sure I made for fun company, but I needed to listen more than I spoke.  I was taking it all in.  

I listened to The Shins and read the Nora Ephron book my mom loaned me.  I got a pedicure with my cousin, ate breakfast burritos while watching Wimbledon, and was entranced by "Moonrise Kingdom" (seriously... go see that movie).  My cousin Emily has this phrase, "that's sooo Santa Fe" which basically means that there is no standard, expect anything.  I think every vacation should be so serendipitous.  I still haven't seen the Georgia O'Keefe museum (but my mom went, does that count?) nor did I venture too far from my top three favorite places to eat (Harry's Roadhouse, El Parasol, and Plaza Cafe) but I did try new things and found some new favorites (La Casa Senna... heavenly patio of twinkly lights and gorgeousness).

The "Jesus cloud" outside Harry's Roadhouse.  

So I hope you're getting some vacation time in this summer.  And by vacation time, I don't mean running from museum to landmark to restaurant in a sprint.  Take some time, enjoy the place where you are and let it unfold itself to you.  Santa Fe wanted to impress me this weekend, so I let it.  

Happy trails to you.