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September 1st, 2012 Oh, where do I start? Today was paddle board day – the second try. Maybe I should start with how it took 1 truck, 3 people, and 4 trips to get everything onto the beach for this paddle board day. We set up camp at noon. It was high tide. We had to wait for low tide around 5 pm to do this. The day was gorgeous – not a cloud in the sky. The water was a different story. The waves were crashing and the wind was blowing. Not exactly the surf needed for smooth paddle boarding.
We settled in with: 8 small bottles of wine, 8 Lime-a-rita’s, 2 vodka and lime water, crackers, chips, pretzels, and various forms of hummus dips. After awhile friends of ours came down to the beach and we joined their camp. 3 wines later, it was 5 o’clock – not somewhere- right here. The tide was out and the sandbars shone in the late day sun. The waves were still crashing. I thought this was another no-go day, but my daughter said we could do it on the sandbar. She even said she’d go first.
So we carried the board out to the sandbar and the waves were so strong, we knew there was going to be no stand-up paddle boarding. We had another idea. I told her to push it way out and ride it in like a surfboard. She did and it was awesome. I took it next. I pushed it way out beyond the surf, turned it around and jumped on it, kneeling. The waves were huge. They came up behind me and I rode it into shore. It was exhilarating. We took turns doing it over and over. It was like an adult boogie board. I never had so much fun, got so much exercise, and got so exhausted in an afternoon at the beach.
By 6:30 the sun was disappearing and now we had to carry it all home. We were wet, sandy, and very tired. I got the outside shower first. My daughter stood waiting for me saying, “Are you done yet, Surfer Sally?” I came out of the shower and told her, “You can’t ever say I made your life boring.”
A good time was had by all, my husband, carrier of the board, had a nice dinner ready for us. Now we sit, after dinner, wine in hand, enjoying a campfire laughing about our surfing paddle board day.
Once again I didn’t get to paddle board, but at least I got the board in the water. More importantly, this is what families are made of.
And so, as another day goes by, I’m hanging up the paddle board for 2012, and… I have written.
August 31st, 2012 “Why should women have any less say than men on issues facing our great nation….” ~ Romney
Oh puleassse! But let’s get rid of planned parenthood? This guy is just plain scary. He makes mistakes. He makes sweeping statements. And now he’s up there trying to be the choir boy? Just who is he trying to fool? I thought Clint Eastwood was a huge faux pas – then our republican candidate gets up there and upstages Clint!
These are scary times. The one we have (Obama) has not really changed much. But he’s a nice guy. Sincere. Has real family values and concerns. He tried. Really tried. But this guy (Romney) on TV in front of me, has no clue what it is to be in that office and try to turn this country around. It takes more than four years. It takes more than one person. It takes a lot of cooperation and less partisanship.
“I have a plan to create 12 million new jobs.” This is the first I’ve heard about this. When is he gonna tell us what it is?
Facts and speeches aside – my intuition speaks – this guy (Romney) is scary. We do not live in the 1800’s. Families are different today. Marriage is marriage – be it between a man and a man, a woman and a woman, or a man and a woman. The decision to have a child is up to the woman who is carrying it. This guy lives in the 1800’s. He can’t move forward with our society today. You can’t turn back time and say let’s go back to “Leave It To Beaver” times. I lived in those times. It was great back then. But the old saying “That was then, this is now” so applies in this election.
Take your time and think before you make your choice. I was born in 1953. Today is 2012. I’m smart enough to know the difference between the two. I want someone to run this country who is smart enough to know the difference between the two. I want someone who will not make sweeping changes. I want someone who will stop and think before making changes. Is Obama the one? I don’t know. But his take on reform is a lot more thoughtful and sane compared to Romney.
And who would precede himself with Clint Eastwood? That, right there, gives me cause to pause. Even Kelleher with WBZ news says he delivered “the honey” tonight. I don’t want a president who delivers “honey”. I want a leader who tells it like I live, in the era I live in.
My Facebook post tonight said:
“If he bats those eyelashes at us one more time..I have never seen anything more blatantly fake…we live in scary times…”
And so, as another day goes by, Lord help us, and I have written.
They (news) described it as robotic….
August 30th, 2012 Thought For Today in the Cape Cod Times:
“If you board the wrong train, it’s no use running along the corridor in the other direction.”
~Dietrich Bonhoeffer
The train wisdom is running ramped this week. The whistle of this quote got my attention. It’s so true. When in a difficult situation with a loved one, apologize and get off the train. Don’t keep re-apologizing. When you’ve done all you can possibly do, when you’ve given it your best shot, get off the train. Sit quietly until one comes that’s going in the right direction. Get on it. Settle in and try to enjoy the ride. The first hundred miles may be difficult. Different. Then one day you look out the window and the scenery has changed. It’s nice. As the train pulls into the station, pick up your bag and realize you’re home.
Relationships, the ones that matter, are never easy. You don’t have to give up or throw the in the towel. But you don’t have to exhaust yourself fighting, either. Yesterday I cited a quote about leaving the relationship broken instead of hurting yourself trying to put it back together. Leaving it broken doesn’t mean giving up, either. It’s the same principle.
If you get on a train going in the opposite direction, and you’re being kind to yourself by not trying to fix it, how is that not giving up? That was my question for a long, long, time. It was a major factor inhibiting acceptance and letting go because these are things I would acquaint with giving up. I’ve learned since that this is not the case. Stopping the battle and taking time to heal and be kind to yourself is not giving up. Throughout the healing process I never allowed my heart to harden and close. I never became bitter. I never closed and locked the doors. That would be hurting myself further.
I’ve learned to be more tolerant and compassionate. I’ve learned to take myself out of the story. I’ve learned a lot about mutual respect and spontaneity. I morphed into a new and better person on the train ride. I left the shards of glass on the ground, knowing I was not able to clean them up without bleeding. I’ve learned to wait until people come back on their own and offer to help clean them up.
Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don’t. Either way, I stay open. That way I’m never wrong and life is peaceful and less anxious.
And so, as another day goes by, it’s been a hell of a ride, but the station is in sight, and…I have written.
August 29th, 2012 My August road has been paved with new and deeper ways of looking at control, acceptance and letting go. Dan McCullough writes an Ideas & Opinion column every Sunday in the Cape Cod Times. I always enjoy it because it’s totally different from the political ones covering the editorial pages.
This Sunday was of particular interest because he wrote about being in a difficult situation with a loved one. A friend came to him for advice about a difficulty he was having with an adult family member. Before Dan could reply, his friend said, “But I’m not going to change him, that’s just his way. It’s not good or bad. It’s just his way.”
Dan agreed and told him he was engaged in a healthy way of thinking. Then he told him something that made me stop and pause and ponder. He said:
“Once we know that a person close to us has certain personality traits, we’re responsible for that knowledge. You can’t get into a conversation or the dynamic of a situation with him, and then act surprised we he begins to act perfectly like himself – the self you know and love.”
I really like the part about accepting responsibility for that knowledge. Without accepting responsibility for their actions, we can accept responsibility for knowing them well. For knowing how they react in certain situations. Knowing this, we shouldn’t expect different results and then criticize them for it. He went on to compare it with an old country song by Terri Sharp; You Can’t Blame The Train:
“When the gates are all down and the signals are flashin’ and the whistle is screamin’ in vain,
And you stay on the tracks, ignorin’ the facts,
Well then you can’t blame the wreck on the train.”
Just a new lens to view difficult situations with people we’re close to, know well and love. It’s about accepting their way. Realizing you’re not going to change them. Asking yourself, “What did you expect?” and being okay with the answer.
And so, as another day goes by, there’s power in letting go and accepting our loved ones for who they are, and…I have written.
August 28th, 2012 This is a blog I wrote weeks ago, but for some reason couldn’t push the “Publish” button, so I let it sit here. It works in tandem with my previous post today. Now, three weeks later, I see a two-fold purpose in letting it sit. First, it’s the blog I “forgot” the other day. I’m back on track and “really” didn’t miss a day. Second, and much more importantly, it took a month for the lesson in this experience to grow and take hold. I needed to do the work, then be able to come back and reread the lesson, just as I had written it, on the day it was given to me:
Spontaneity & Mutual Respect
Yesterday I was praying for someone. When I was done praying, I simply whispered “I love you”. I immediately heard “I know you do. Let’s leave it at that for now” not out loud, but coming into my head from somewhere. Then I picked up my newspaper as I do everyday. I always, just for the fun of it, check out my Horoscope. It said:
“Stay mellow in your dealings with a creative and dynamic person. You do not need to show off; instead you need to transform this relationship by allowing more spontaneity and greater mutual respect.”
Mutual respect and spontaneity stuck in my mind. Later I went for a beach walk and brought home two stones to write those words on because, as I thought more and more about them, they began teaching me their meaning.
Mutual respect : Think about what the other person is asking. Think about what the other person wants. Put aside that you think you know what to do to solve a problem. Put aside what you think will make you feel so much better. Stop and just consider, without any strings attached to you, only what the other person really really wants.
Spontaneity: Drop your agenda. Forget your plans. Stop scheming and fixing. Let God run things. Go about your business without giving it another thought.
Whether or not the person’s spirit spoke to me, whether or not this horoscope has anything to do with this relationship, spontaneity and mutual respect are two things not to be discounted lightly. They are part of letting go of past restraints and moving on into the new and unknown. Good vehicles.
And so, as another day goes by, revisiting this experience today has brought me reassurance of my path, peace and calm, and ….I have written.
August 28th, 2012 This week my friend and her ten year old son are visiting me. On our first beach day he hopped on his bike and said he was going to ride to the beach. His mom, having been here before, told him how hard it was going to be to get his bike up the sandy path and he’d be better off with his scooter. Off he went on his bike. I, too, wondered how he was going to get that bike up a 50 foot hill of soft sand. But when his mother said no more, I just picked up my bag and followed her out to the road.
When we got to the beach path she and I started up the wall of sand and her son was behind us, laboriously pushing the bike. She saw me watching him. She turned to me and said, “You can’t tell him anything. And as long as he’s not going to harm himself, I let him learn in his own way.”
I broke over the crest of the hill, stood with her for a moment looking at the ocean while we waited for him to struggle up the hill with the bike. When he reached us, she told him it was downhill the rest of the way. He was relieved to hear this. She was neither indignant or righteous. She just gently told him it was downhill the rest of the way. She knew he got it and no “I told you so’s” were necessary to drive the point home.
Coming upon the crest of that hill I suddenly saw how absolutely ridiculous it is to waste energy trying to tell other people what or how to do something. She was so right. Offer an opinion, a piece of helpful advice, or a “how to”. Let others decide if they want to use it or not. Do not waste energy convincing them “you know best”.
People (and this includes children, too) need to make their own mistakes. Sometimes the same ones over and over before they change their course. Trying to push your own will into their process does not solve the problem for them. If only they would take your advice, their life would be so much easier and you would feel so much better about that. Too bad. It’s not about you.
In our quest to help others and make their paths a little easier, we forget that we all need hurricanes in our lives. We all need to sit in them for awhile and feel the effects of the spin. We all need to navigate the eye and figure out how to release ourselves from the spinning.
Watching someone you love spin in a hurricane is hard. Sometimes you have to set a boundary, let them have at it and be there to love them through it. It’s called parenting.
And so, as another day goes by, happy back to school week, best wishes to students and parents alike, and I have written.
August 27th, 2012 This morning I woke up and talked on the phone with my husband, as usual. He said, “Hey, you didn’t blog yesterday.” I sat there shocked. He was right. I wrote the title for yesterday’s blog at the concert on Saturday night, saved it to remind me what I was thinking, and yesterday never wrote it. It just felt like I wrote it, because I thought it, and saved the title.
When my husband told me this news, I was pretty upset. I felt sure I’d never go a day without writing something. Then I also realized I hadn’t written my morning pages yesterday morning either. That was even harder to take, because that usually involves a prayer time, also.
My mind was in another sphere yesterday. A sphere it hasn’t been in for a very long time. I had such a great time on Saturday with my daughter on the beach and at the concert with my husband. Yesterday after they left, I had a friend and her 10 year old son coming to visit for a few days, so it was a quick bait n’ switch with the bedrooms. I dug into cleaning and preparing like I hadn’t done in a very long time. When I was done, I still had an hour before they arrived, and I sat down admiring my work. I remember feeling that my house hasn’t been that clean and peaceful in a long, long time.
What could be causing these changes I experienced yesterday? For something new to be present, something old has to be absent. Pain. The pain is gone. For the first time in these last few days I’ve begun to be able to talk about things that used to reduce me to tears and not be reduced to tears. I think I have arrived at the last step of grieving – acceptance.
And so, as another day goes by, a few leaves are starting to fall, maybe I’m moving into yet another new season of life….and, for yesterday, I have written.
Or….
I could just go with my horoscope : (my friend also brought her tiny dog)
August 25th, 2012 If there was such a thing as smell-o-vision or smell-o-mail or smell-o-blog, I know the first smell I’d share with you. It’s the smell of the tide going out, wafting through a gentle breeze on my beach. There’s nothing like Saturday morning on my beach. It stretches for miles and is totally empty at 10 am. This is because Saturday morning is change day on the Cape. The renters are sweeping their cottages and piling their vehicles high with sandy pails and damp boogie boards to try to make it over the bridge before the traffic backs up. The new renters can’t check in until 2 pm until all the cottages have been cleaned and readied for them.
What does this mean for those of us that live on this beach? Four hours with not a soul in sight. I walked the total length of the beach and all I’ve seen is a lone shore fisherman casting off of Scorton Creek. Probably another resident who has discovered this secret time to come and cast his line in perfect peace and stillness. I watch as he throws his line forward, then slowly reels it back again. Repeat. Repeat. The rhythm allows thoughts to run freely through his mind. Perhaps he’s thinking about the lawn he has to cut this afternoon. Perhaps he needs time away from a demanding work week. Or perhaps he just wants to catch a keeper. No matter. The magic is in the smell of the morning and the absence of everyone but him and me on this beach. Out in the distance there’s a huge barge being pushed by a tugboat trying to get into the canal before low tide at noon.
I can tell you. I can show you. But I can’t “smell” you. Lol.
And so, as another day goes by, as soon as there’s “an app for that” I’ll be the first to get it and share the smell of the tide with you, and…I have written.
PS- to my friends lucky enough to live here with me – go out and enjoy the smell – or at least open your windows.
August 24th, 2012 This morning is different all around for me. I don’t know if it had anything to do with the Buddha Board entering my life or not, but it is different. First, I suddenly decided I wasn’t going to Bikram yoga today. I broke my own rule of if I’m home and class is on, I’m in it. Well I am home and class is on, but I’m not in it. It’s the very first day in 23 months that has happened. I took the morning off just to stay home.
I came outside with my coffee and instead of sitting in my usual chair, facing the same set of sky and trees, without thinking I sat in a different chair and faced a new set of sky and trees. I opened my kindle and found yesterday’s meditation “The Taste of Sky” (below). How fitting a passage. I definitely feel my “heart is being rinsed”. I love that phrase and wanted to share the piece with you.
And so, as another day goes by, may your “heart be rinsed” and you get to “taste” the sky”, and….on this gorgeous Cape morning, from my patio,…I have written.
Below is from Mark Nepo; “The Book of Awakening” – this is my second time through this book – just love his words. Enjoy….
August 23rd, 2012 Earlier this week I was in Barnes & Noble and I walked by a shelf that had a big white box on it. The box cover was white and it said Buddha Board across the cover. I stopped to examine this cool thing. On the back of the box it described what it was. It was a white board, that you paint on with water and your brush stokes come out black. The picture disappears as it dries, and your Buddha Board is ready to go for the next painting. Hmmm…also on the the box it said “Practice the art of letting go”. I placed the box back on the shelf and headed home.
I pondered that statement as I drove home from the mall. As far as I’m concerned, “letting go” can’t be practiced enough, and I don’t think it’s ever mastered. The more I thought about the painting and the drying, the more I began to see the wisdom of this magical board. It’s “morning pages” for art. My morning pages are written within the safety of knowing they will never be viewed again, by me or anyone else. This results in free, effortless writing, done without fear or constraint. The Buddha Board could do for my art what morning pages does for my writing. This realization made me very excited because I’ve felt crippled in my art for a very long time. I won’t pick up the sketch pad or the paintbrush for fear of it not being good. I never thought of applying the concept of “morning pages” to drawing and painting. Needless to say, I decided I needed a Buddha Board.
Today I went on my big adventure to get my magical board. Tuesday there were two of them on the shelf. When I walked in today there was only one left and a girl was holding it, reading the box. I cannot believe that suddenly everyone on Cape Cod is interested in Buddha Boards. I stalked her until she put it back on the shelf. I quickly walked over and grabbed it and booked to the checkout before she could change her mind.
Upon bringing my board home, I knew just where it was going to go in my serenity room. I opened the box and unpacked it. I found the instructions and read them carefully (an amazing feat all it’s own for me, but I really didn’t want to screw this up). I put it together, took it into the room and set it up on its very own table by the window. I got a glass of water, pulled over the stool, dipped the brush into the water and began swooshing it over the board. The anticipation of seeing my brushstrokes magically appear was palpitating. Nothing happened. The board stayed white. It also kept flopping over backwards. I kept painting. It stayed white and kept flopping over backward. Now I was upset. I just went all the way to the mall and paid for this and it doesn’t even work.
I stomped back into the kitchen to get the instructions. I was hell-bent on finding a phone number and giving someone a piece of my mind and asking for my money back. (So much for serenity, zen and letting go). There on the counter, next to the box, lay a hard, black board, white on one side. I had been painting on the packing material. I began laughing and laughing as I took the board into the other room and placed it in the rack, where it fit snug and secure.
I sat down once again and with a drum roll in my head, picked up the brush, dipped it in water and began painting. Voila! Magic. Just as the box promised, my brushstrokes appeared, beautifully black. My first Buddha Board painting. It was everything I thought it’d be – fun, free, easy, and relaxing. I snapped the photo below and went to make dinner.
I kept going back to check and see if it dried. In ten minutes it was gone.
What a fun thing. I felt like I was a kindergartner again. I so wish I had this in my classroom for the kids when I was teaching. What fun they would’ve had – with no cleanup from me.
There are times we must be truly childlike. For some, this is a hard concept. It was for me – one who spent years hanging with five year olds. The freedom to think and act like a child was released within the realm of knowing no one was ever going to see my work. In this context I could pick up the brush, just like almost two years ago morning pages allowed me to pick up the pen.
If there’s something you’re afraid to try, but have a passion for, try it inside the realm of knowing that no one will ever see it. You just might surprise yourself. It’s the ultimate “letting go”.
And so, as another day goes by, joie de vevre, joie de vevre, joie de vevre and…I have written…..
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