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August 22nd, 2012 Yesterday my friend asked me to meet her at her house at 12:45 to go kayaking with her and some other people. I sat there thinking about the invitation for a few minutes. Today I had a 10 am brunch up in Brewster. My friend lives in Falmouth. The two places are practically on either end of the Cape. But the weather is going to be so gorgeous and I really, really wanted to kayak.
Maybe I can do it. I email her back telling her my plan to get out of brunch by 11:30 and try to make it. She emails me back that due to traffic it would be hard and I’d be overloading myself. The more I thought about what she said, I realized she was right. We also had a Cape Cod Children’s Writers meeting at 6:30 pm. Yes, I conceded, she definitely had a point, so I dejectedly wrote back and said I’d take a raincheck. I was kind of disappointed. I really wanted to kayak.
She answered me back, laughing, saying I’m just like her – the two of us are always trying to cram a week’s worth of living into one day. I smiled. She was right. Sometimes I think I don’t really do anything at all in this retired life. It takes someone to look in from the outside and point out the things I don’t see that are right I front of me. Another “joie de vevre” in the casual observation of a friend.
I do a lot. I still have a lot I want to do. We only get one life to cram it all in. We only get one body, too. In order to live this joyful life we must take care of it. We must eat good, unprocessed food, exercise regularly, attend to our spiritual “God stuff”, spend time with family and friends, and enjoy good wine.
Thanks, Joan, for helping me find “joie de vevre” even in disappointment. Instead of finding obvious joy, try seeing it in disappointing things or in things you just don’t want to do. I guarantee it’s a whole different kind of joy.
And so, as another day goes by, life is full of great and not-so-great things, but I intend to find the joie de vevre in all of them, and …I have written.
August 21st, 2012 I think I’m taking this “joie de vevre” thing too far. (I knew it was too good to be true to find joy in picking that garden – but doing it again today was also fun.)
Last night I woke up at 3:15 am and danced my way to the bathroom saying “This is a GREAT sleep!”. Then I happily got back in bed and took such great pleasure in the comfortable pillow supporting my head just right, the cool feel of it against my cheek and how perfect my body felt snuggled in the mattress. I know. Who gets up in the middle of the night and finds great joy in their “sleep”?
It surprised me too. I also was in a great mood and had a lot of energy at 3 am. It certainly was a unique experience. “Joie de vevre” is lurking everywhere, at the most unexpected times and in the most obscure places throughout the day (and I guess night). The garden picking and wonderful sleep still elicit good feelings when I think of them. I looked forward to picking more today. I took time to enjoy the weather and sun on my back while I worked. Thinking of going to bed in few hours gives me a relaxing feeling. I want another good “sleep”. I feel an attitude shift coming on.
Think back on your day. Where did some “joie de vevre” surprise you today?
And so, as another day goes by, finding some joie de vevre in everything seems to be changing my perspective, and…I have written.
PS- The yellow ones were amazing! Joie de vevre in my dinner bowl!
August 20th, 2012 My husband has loved gardening all our married life. Me, not so much. The garden looks beautiful when he first puts it in. Rich, brown, soft tilled soil. Straight rows marked with white string. Plots and squares all organized and pleasing for my mind to look at. Since he is not here during the week, it was my job to keep it watered and tended until he came back on the weekend. I actually found pleasure in walking among the rows, sprinkling the straight rows and perfect squares with water.
And then the garden grew. This garden is insane. In fact, it’s not a garden at all. It’s a cross between an actual farm and a jungle. The beautiful, straight rows I cultivated have disappeared into an enormous tangle of green. It’s wet out there. It’s buggy out there. It’s muddy out there. And now it’s my job during the week to go out and keep the garden picked. This is a whole lot harder than watering. Tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash all hide under huge green leaves, along with the mosquitoes. Going out into this rainforest called a garden, requires massive preparation equal to that of a beekeeper. In fact, next year I’m getting a beekeeper suit.
Yesterday, as my husband was explaining what my garden job was this week, I made up my mind to “like it”. To give it a chance. There has to be some “Joie de vevre” somewhere in that tangled mass. I thought, maybe getting out and kind of being “one with the earth” would bestow joy on my heart.
Wrong. I gave it my best shot. I sprayed on massive amounts of bug spray and wore long pants and a long sleeved shirt and ventured into this mini-wilderness that occupies my yard. Mosquitoes and black gnats quickly decided my hair was a great place to hide out. My feet were muddy and soaked through, but I pressed on. Then I saw them. Yellow tomatoes. Cool. I quickly forgot about my itching and complaining. I picked the yellow tomatoes, along with mountains of red ones, plum ones, and itty bitty cherry ones. Then I attacked the cucumber and squash section and returned to the house with this huge harvest.
The colors and freshness of the bounty made me feel just a bit healthier, but the real joy will be in trying a yellow tomato for the first time. (Sort of like that time they came out with green ketchup.) Is it really going to taste like a red tomato or will it have it’s own special flavor?
I will have to wait until dinner tomorrow to find out, but the important thing is that I found “Joie de vevre” in something I knew I was not going to like doing. This proves that the “joy of life” hides everywhere. Even under huge green leaves.
And so, as another day goes by, I can’t wait to see what I will find in that garden tomorrow, and….I have written.
August 19th, 2012 Tonight is filled with more “Joie de vivre!”. My husband and I went to the South Shore Music Circus in Cohasset to see the Creedence Clearwater Revisited show. We came up earlier today and spent the late afternoon in a charming Irish pub. Wine and food were excellent. (Grilled chicken salad sandwich – made with avocado, onions, and cilantro – served on homemade bread with a crisp Pino Grigio – yum.)
The opening act took the stage. Four gentlemen twenty years or more older than us, known as the George Gretsbach Band. We just looked at each other. When they started to perform we were pleasantly surprised. Joie de vivre. They turned out to be a really good blues band and wow, for their ages to perform like that – they certainly know about Joie de vivre.
Next the Creedence band took the stage – and I mean took the stage. Amazing. They had the whole place up out of their seats, dancing. The drummer and bass guitarists are original members of Creedence Clearwater Revival. They have been together for 54 years. They met when they were 13. To be up there and doing what they did tonight just needs to be respected.
The drummer told their story and then said, “Yes! We are 67 years old. You can’t stop the clock from ticking, so just go out everyday and enjoy the time you have left on this planet.” Joie de vivre?
And so, as another day goes by, I hope I’m around in 20 years to see Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga take the stage at 42, and…I have written.
August 18th, 2012 I cannot again tell you how much the book I reviewed last night is changing my life. “Bonjour, Happiness” has just got me so into living in the moment and finding happiness in the thing I’m doing and the people I’m hanging with at the moment.
Tonight has been magical. My daughter and her friend cooked dinner for my husband and I. The wine was flowing and the dinner was salmon and vegetables from our garden. The aura that the food was coming from a good place and being shared among friends with a spirit of love, was so very cool. We all talked and shared and commiserated over food and wine and I really, really felt that I finally got the message that Jamie Cat Callan was trying to convey in “Bonjour, Happiness”. Really, folks, download this gem of a story. Take a lesson from French women, and find the gems of happiness that exist right in front you. I cannot tell you how freeing this feeling is.
Tonight, this meal and campfire with my husband and my daughter and her friend showed me just how much wonderfulness I have in my life, right here in front of me, despite the awful losses I have experienced this year, I have “joie de vivre” right here, at my fingertips, everyday.
And so, as another day goes by, I can’t thank Jamie Cat Callan enough for recognizing the need for finding happiness right in my own backyard, and …I have written.
August 17th, 2012 I am currently reading Jamie Cat Callan’s “Bonjour Happiness”. I have found this to be just the most delightful book I’ve read in a long time. Jamie helps us find happiness as seen through the eyes of French women. Here in America, according to our constitution, we pursue happiness, with the insinuation that we chase after it. French women LOOK for happiness, like it’s under the table and they are delighted and surprised when they find it.
Here is a passage that illustrates it “in a nutshell”.
“Find a a local cafe or coffee shop and make it your own. Observe your world and get into conversations with people. Learn to be a good listener. You are an important presence in your world. Whether you realize it or not, you are an inspiration and make a difference. Stand up straight. Dress well. Be kind. People are watching.”
It’s so simple to find happiness. It’s in front of us everyday. Tonight it’s in my backyard fire, sharing girl time with my daughter and her friend. It’s in the chips and wine. It’s in the cuteness of the dog my daughter’s friend brought. It’s in the shared conversation. It’s in staying in the moment. It’s in gratitude.
Jamie is so right. Happiness is in sharing with others. Happiness is in caring for yourself. Happiness is in food. Happiness is in caring for your home. In this book Jamie does a phenomenal job of showing how French women find happiness in the most unexpected, sometimes mundane, places.
The most wonderful thing about reading this book, is knowing the author. Jamie Cat Callan truly lives in the manner she describes in the book. She, herself, is a delightful person, filled with exuberance and a sacred respect for life. I truly recommend you get this book, read it, and then keep it close at hand for those off days when you feel sad, melancholy, or stuck in your own life.
And so, as another day goes by, I have a great appreciation for authors like Jamie that help us always move forward, and I have written.
August 16th, 2012 “It doesn’t take long for dust to gather on your momentum, making your goals turn stale.”
When I read this today I said, “That’s it!”. The thing I always fear happening after a great motivational event like last week’s writer’s conference or Tuesday’s book signing I attended. I always drive home super pumped and full of new ideas. Then comes the weekend. Then comes Monday and…I want to to do something, but thoughts of “Where do I start?” or “Oh I just don’t have the energy today.” start moving through my brain. The dust begins to gather on my momentum.
Living alone all week, I’ve had to go to some lengths to avoid this dust. My daily yoga practice helps a lot, because not only do I get inspiration from the practice itself, but also from the people I do it with. Another thing I found helpful is to not put away visual evidence of the great event I attended. Leaving out physical evidence of what I learned and got so inspired about, goes a long way toward stoking my motivation and sweeping some of that dust off of my momentum.
My best dust-catcher is my little altar of beach stones that I write my reminders on and leave in plain sight – like right between me and the TV where I see them and read them everyday. Just reading my stones causes some dopamine to be released in my brain, giving my momentum a good dusting and rejuvenating my motivation. This one is easy. Check out my “August Altar” below.
I change it monthly. This gives me a chance to take inventory and discard the rocks I no longer need, and replace them with new, current, goals and the colors of a new season (August was pink), dusting away cobwebs of feelings and emotions, making room for new growth.
And so, as another day goes by, it takes effort to not let the dust settle in those in-between times when I’m on my own, and…I have written.
August 15th, 2012 Tomorrow, children’s author Sara Pennypacker, will be doing a signing at Titcomb’s Bookshop here in Sandwich, at 4pm. She will be introducing her latest middle grade novel, The Summer of the Gypsy Moths, so yesterday I downloaded and read the book. I absolutely loved it. Once again Pennypacker masters the art of weaving internal and external conflict and takes her characters on a journey of change and growth. (Click link below to read entire post.)
via capecodchildrenswriters.com
August 14th, 2012 Yesterday, after my ridiculously hard yoga class, I came home and hydrated and electrolyzed myself because I was invited off-cape for lunch at a writer friend’s house. My friend is a counselor and is putting together a collage class for women in recovery. I found it fascinating when she told me about it last week. I volunteered to have her practice on me because I had never done collage before.
She told me to bring a board and a bag of stuff. I asked her what kind of stuff. She said anything – anything I like. So I spent Sunday rummaging around the house collecting things. I threw in my art pencils and some crayons for good measure. I brought some small paintings I had done, a bookmark I liked, small pictures I liked, and some pretty colored papers I’d been saving just because I liked them.
Lunch was great and then we went into her workroom in the basement. It was very cool. It had a table with cutting mats on it made out of an old door and rows of shelves filled with art stuff. I immediately knew I want a room or a space like this in my basement. I took out my 18×24 black board. She took out an 8×10 piece of cardboard. I took out all my pictures and bright colored papers. She took out beautiful old looking dark colored pieces of pictures of fabric. I began gluing my things all over my board. She began cutting squares and rectangles and gluing them on top of one another. Hers looked like a beautiful tapestry. Mine looked, well, like pieces of my life artfully arranged.
Since it really was my birthday, I knew it was supposed to be a collage of my life. When I was done, she asked me to explain it. I put folded back paper on each corner and said that it was ripped open and folded back. The one thing that stood out for me was that 25% of the board was taken up with an ugly drawing I drew when I was in extreme pain. I glued strips of black tissue paper over it to show it was almost covered over, but still peeks out. The rest of the board was filled with the bright things of my life.
What did this say? Without me even planning that that picture should take up so much room, it certainly stood out that my last year and a half of pain still occupies a huge part of my life. I didn’t know that. I’d been so much better these last few months, but, yes, it lurks in the background.
The art of collage is very freeing and very telling. It tells the true story that even you aren’t aware of during the fun you have while making it. I learned about me and my friend learned more about how to structure her course. It was a win-win.
I loved the way my friend made her collage and it told me a lot about her. She’s very literary and likes history and artifacts. Her colors are muted and her work looks aged. I was the complete opposite. I love bright colors contrasted with black. I like contemporary and pop art. I like modern day domestic fiction. Amazing the way two stories and two personalities were exhibited in a few hours of fun with a friend. It was a great way to spend a birthday.
And so, as another day goes by, this year I’m going to try some collages with just paper, I’m going to make a very cool workspace like that, and….I have written.
August 13th, 2012 My week without Bikram was wonderful. Excellent meals and wine with friends for both lunch and dinner, working the registration desk at the Writers Conference and commiserating with such interesting people, and attending wonderful, inspiring classes. Bikram and exercise and diet of any kind was not even on my radar. It was the best conference week of the three years I’ve attended and I topped off the week with movies and birthday dinners.
And then came now.
Today was not pretty in the hot room. Thoughts of hydration and electrolytes haven’t entered my mind for nine days. I knew something was up when I started asking for headache medicine along about Thursday. My sinus problems were returning and it began to dawn on me – no yoga. I barely made it through the standing series. The dizzies kicked in and down I went. Let’s say I made it up to the last three poses, then I lay flat in savasana with my eyes closed to stop the room from spinning. The rest of the class, on the floor, passed rather uneventfully.
When I got home I quickly hydrated and replaced those electrolytes. Back to my old routine. I think it’s going to take more than one day. It’s going to be a long week. Today felt like going back to school on a Monday morning after a long vacation. It was great to see my friends again. I loved the familiarity of the back steps and the hot room. I loved my routine of picking my spot and putting my bag away.
It’s great to get away and do something different, but it’s even better returning to something the same.
And so, as another day goes by, who knew my yoga studio would become another home, complete with a family, and….I have written.
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