In Its Own Time – Organically

Today in yoga class, when I was bent over in standing separate leg stretch, trying to grab my heels, I realized it going to be two years that I’ve been doing this pose and I still can’t reach my heels. The instructor says if you’re a beginner, grab the sides of your feet. Well, after two years, I’m no beginner and those heels are no closer, and I’m still grabbing my heels.

As we moved on to other poses, the teacher said:

“You won’t be able to do everything, everyday. Slowly, in it’s own time, organically, it will happen – just when it’s meant to.”

Ok. So maybe, organically, it just isn’t time for me to reach those heels yet. Once again, leaving the studio, I realize it’s like that in life, too. You can push and force and pray and beg….but unless it’s the right time, it isn’t going to happen.

Today, on this day before the holiday and the gang arrives, it’s nice to just take a moment and view the rest of the week like that. Ease up on the plans, let everyone find their own beach chair, sit back and let it all happen – in its own time, organically.

And so, as another day goes by, I hop in the car to pick up daughter #2 in Boston, hoping the traffic understands that concept, too, and….I have written.


In Its Own Time - Organically

The Last Silent Night

There’s no doubt about it – the Cape is poised and ready for the holiday. The houses are decorated, the cottages are full, the grills are ramping up, filling my neighborhood with wonderful smells, the local tv is advertising the Boston pops fireworks and lobster ice cream here on the Cape. I spent my last quiet day puttering about my yard and taking an early evening walk. We had a brief shower and a rumble or two of thunder and then the sun reappeared. The road was wet and steamy and the streets were pleasantly quiet, like they are just laying there, silently breathing, waiting for everyone to arrive tomorrow.

My own children, husband and friends arrive, too, and my house will be filled with life, love, laughter, and lots of food through Sunday. I can’t believe everything is done. Everyone has clean beds and towels. I walk around thinking there’s got to be more to do….but since there isn’t, I will settle in with my latest beach read and give you couple of suggestions should you find yourself poolside or beachside over the next few days.

My two picks are both local authors. “Summerland” by Elin Hildebrand takes place on Nantucket and “Island Apart” by Steven Raichlen takes place on Chappaquiddick. Both have enough love, broken hearts and broken people mixed with secrets and mystery, to while away a few afternoons next to some quiet water, and allow you to travel here and vacation with us.

This has been a good day. A quiet day. A day of reflection and anticipation. It’s like having Christmas Eve in July.

And so, as another day goes by, the sun is setting on the marsh, the first “pop” of fireworks just went off in the distance, (some people just can’t wait for “Xmas morning”), and….I have written.
A tall girl was walking down the beach road today….hahaha…haha…


The Last Silent Night

Simple

Today started out with my mind in a mix of quandary. I went about my tasks of getting last minute things done before the gang arrives Tuesday for the holiday week. As I worked, I pondered, thought, schemed, and, yes, worried, about future outcomes of present situations. I'm sure you have had days like this where sometimes the tedious tasks of cleaning leaves the mind free to work on more important matters.

I accomplished more than I thought I was going to and that made it a basically a good day. Usually throughout that working meditation I make some headway into whatever my concerns happen to be that day. Before I knew it, it was dinner time. After a shower and a great dinner, things were still playing around my mind. They wouldn't solve themselves and they wouldn't leave, either. After dinner I sat down to tackle some email. There it was. The answer to not finding my answers today.

I follow a writer friend's blog. This friend, Merrilynn Grodecki, completely takes apart the Bible and applies it to everyday life situations. She's a very smart woman and an excellent writer. She was also the headmaster of a local Christian school for many years and served as an example to many children. Today her writing made me stop in my tracks and sit up and take notice.

It was so simple. By giving in to fretting and worrying, I was discrediting God. I was instead worshiping my difficulties instead of going to God, placing my concerns in His hands, turning on some music and going on with my chores unencumbered by worrisome thoughts. I made my worries my "God". I made them bigger than God.

I never quite thought about it like that before. When we fret and worry, we doubt God's truthfulness and promises. Pretty simple.

And so, as another day goes by, thank you Merri for shedding a new light on the old pastime of worrying, and …I have written.
To read Merri's post, go to:

God's Beloved Daughters

Simple

Life Certainly IS Good!

A car passing on 6A. (this is unheard of) Sudden brake lights as a car pulls over, obviously lost. Cars shooting out of gates on the rotary without looking, people driving north when they think they are heading south, – summer has arrived on the Cape. Lights on until all hours of the morning in the house behind me, cars with boom boxes driving by on the way to the beach, fireworks popping and booming on the beach every night because people are on vacation every week for the next ten weeks, people walking by my house and stopping by to talk, a whole group of new “beach friends” every Saturday, runners and cyclists EVERYWHERE – and I mean everywhere – the Cape is alive and I LOVE it.

People often ask me how I stand it here in the summer with all the traffic and “tourists”. What people who don’t live here, don’t understand, is that in the other three seasons the Cape is a quiet sanctuary just for me. I enjoy long lonely stretches of the beach, beautiful changing colors of the marsh, absent from kayakers and shore fisherman, long winding roads free of traffic, shops so quiet the owners are happy to visit a bit with you, and cold, gray winter days with huge waves crashing that hold a beauty all their own. I especially love the early May days when I hear the tap-tap of the hammers opening up and fixing the cottages on the beach for the coming season. I used to read novels where the rich would leave the cities in June and head to the beaches for the “season”. I used to love the idea of each summer being a special season, where everyday life is abandoned for beaches and cottages for two whole months. And now I live it. Without even traveling to do it.

When June hits, the music starts, people come and for ten weeks my sanctuary is alive and kicking with lovely, interesting people from all over the world. Sometimes I feel like they are “my company”. They’ve come just to visit with me for a few days on the beach. Then my own friends and family come all summer long for short stays. A different group every few weeks. My life becomes weeks of fires at night, grilled food, beach days, and pretty, pretty drinks. My adult children come many times, each time bringing a different group of fun friends to hang out with.

How could I possibly hate summer because of the “traffic and the tourists”? When I was a young teen, growing up in really rural upstate NY, I devoured books about people having these kinds of summers, while I spent long summer days alone, in my backyard. There was no place to walk to and we only had one car that dad took to work. My siblings were all younger than me. I was totally alone and made up stories of going to the shore for the “summer season”.

Hate this? Find it annoying? I think not. I give gratitude for every passerby, every pop of the fireworks, and, yes, even for the few extra minutes it takes to maneuver around my little island paradise for the next ten weeks. My little girl daydreams have manifested into reality and I couldn’t be happier on this last weekend in June.

And so, as another day goes by, hubby went to gather (buy) wood for tonight’s campfire, the fireworks will start popping soon, the Pino Grigio is cold and fruity, the citronella candles are lit, the radio is advertising Spanky’s Clam Shack, I am content, and….I have written.
PS to Erin & Ashley – Uhhh…. Ramona put out her own brand of the Pino G….she’s here on Cape this weekend doing tastings…is there a bottle of this in my future? (birthday hint) lol!


Life Certainly IS Good!

Not Linear

I have often mentioned that I follow three Bikram yoga blogs – 3 women that practice daily, and post daily, too. It’s great to follow them. I feel like I know them. Lisa Jones, who writes The Here and Now, wrote about an absolutely awful class. She told how she was stomach sick and was down a lot. She just didn’t get it. She had her favorite teacher and the room was great, but she left in tears. She really wanted to blame someone or something. When she got home she cried to her husband and he said something I never considered before. He said, “This stuff isn’t linear. There isn’t always a clear cause and effect. Sometimes it just is what it is.”

Hmmm….he’s entirely right. No way is Bikram yoga linear. You might be inclined to think that doing the same 26 postures in the same order everyday might make you an expert or perfect at them. No way. 21 months and there’s days I’m a Rockstar and there’s days I can’t hold my body parts in position for one more minute. If the yoga is the same everyday, what does this say about our bodies? It says we’re like snowflakes – no two days are ever the same. When you think about all the intricate body systems working inside us all at once, it begins to make sense that each day we must be different. We also do to ourselves a million things each day that would cause change from one day to the next. Actually, the yoga is my main stabilizer. The things I go through there is just yoga tweaking and readjusting and healing and realigning and setting to right everything I’ve broken down by poor eating, sleeping, etc. Maybe that’s how it keeps you from aging.

Not linear. I like that concept. Life is not linear either. It’s not one step forward and two back. It’s not a march to a finish line. It’s not a process by which we get made more perfect everyday. Life is about being willing to take the opportunities we’re given and using the abilities we have. It’s a meandering path, we can’t see around every curve and we need to discover the beauty in that – giving it to God and just letting it happen.

And so, as another day goes by, I’m relieved to realize there’s no finish line, that sometimes it just is, and …I have written.


Not Linear

To That Edge Again

One of my favorite sayings is “Life begins at the edge of your comfort zone”. I feel that is my home lately. Starting a new business and writing and publishing books are both two zones I’ve never been in before and I can guarantee it’s going to be a long time before I feel any sense of comfort in doing each one.

Today I am venturing to another edge – I’m going to cook again for a girlfriend tonight. I’ve only done this once before and we all remember that story – and it’s the same friend, too. That says a lot about this friend of mine. She makes me feel comfortable trying the uncomfortable. It’s important to have people in your life you can trust when you step to your edges. Granted, it’s cooking, but I know in a more serious situation, this friend would absolutely be there for me, too.

The Menu:
Appetizer: Scoops and dip made with Greek yogurt and fresh salsa (I know you don’t really make it, but I can’t push the envelope here)

Dinner: Shrimp Pesto Primavera

Dessert: Brandied Peach Yogurt Parfaits (yeah…I know!!)

Now let’s not underestimate the level of seriousness cooking constitutes for me. This meal took two people to put together. One of my dear yoga buddies is a fabulous home entertainer, but she also knows my limitations and provides recipes I can absolutely handle. Let’s just say that when I went to dinner with her the other night, it involved her bringing a shrimp deveiner to the restaurant and giving me lessons on my cupped hand.

This morning before going to yoga, I had to go out and pinch the leaves of what I hoped was a basil plant, and smell it so I wouldn’t put some weed in my food. After yoga I went and bought my ingredients. I actually felt myself liking the shopping and wasn’t sweating in the grocery store while perusing the recipe. Good sign. When I got home, I promptly tackled the shrimp. Mutilated the first few, but finally got the hang of it. Next I made the syrup and yogurt for the dessert and the dip for the appetizer. This is going very, very, well. After that, I went out to pick the basil, worried I wouldn’t have enough and wanted to know in case I needed to go back to the store. Just enough basil – it’s washed and drying on the counter. This is almost too easy. I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’m pretty confident this time. I don’t see how I can mess it up now. You boil the pasta, then throw in all the shrimp and vegetables into the water to cook them, drain, toss with pesto sauce I’m going to “purée” in the food processor. No-brainer, right?

As you can see, a simple meal is quite a production for me. It really is a day spent on the edge of yet another comfort zone. But….here I am relaxing the garage, waiting for my friend with a glass of wine. Dinner is warm in the oven and the appetizer and dessert are in the fridge. I can’t believe this is me – I’m even clean and the kitchen is cleaner.

And so, as another day goes by, as Eleanor says,”Do one thing everyday that scares you”, I try to live by that now, and…I have written.
It came out perfect….


To That Edge Again

Why Do I Read?

One might ask, “Why would you ever stop to even ask yourself that question?”. Once again I was moved by the words of another writer. Ariana Huffington was on CBS this morning remembering her good friend, Nora Ephton, who passed away yesterday. (Screenwriter for “When Haryy Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle) Nora was one of those extremely gifted writers that wrote when she didn’t even know she was writing. She not only lived a writer’s life, but she lived writing itself. As a wanna be blogger, I admire her courage for stepping out and being the first blogger for the Huffington Post when everyone advised her not to do it, and told both her and Ariana that it was never going to work. ‘Nuff said.

At the end of the interview Charlie Rose read Nora’s answer to the question “Why do I read?”. I never heard a more in depth and insightful answer to such a simple question. I wish I had the answer he read so that I could share some of the things she said. As Charlie was reading it, I was trying to grasp the words and store them somewhere, but the answer was too long to keep in my head. Let’s suffice to say, I never heard anyone describe “why they read” in such a way.

Since I couldn’t remember what Nora said, I thought, “Well, Linda, what about you? Reading is all you do when you’re not writing. Why do YOU read?” Now I was stymied by my own mind. I want to sit and tell you “why I read”, but I’m to intimidated by Nora’s amazing answer, that right now I refuse to even let my mind contemplate my own answer. I know I will sound so trite in comparison to her insight. I immediately want to say “I read because I need to learn things”. Can you get any more trite than that? I think that’s an answer a second grader would give. What am I going to do? This is really bothering me that I can’t come up with an answer to such a simple question beyond what a child might say.

Ah…it’s not that I can’t give my own answer…it’s “standing in front of one of the greats” and being totally awed by their talent, gift, ability, uniqueness, and the way they, in their profession, are a “cut above the rest”. It’s like trying to sing after hearing a Rockstar. It’s like trying to draw after coming home from an art show. Just the realization of what it took for someone to achieve their greatness is sometimes enough to freeze you in a state of awe for awhile.

Awhile. Then, the more you think about them, and what they have accomplished and how they did it, you begin to thaw. It is in this thawing period that inspiration kicks in. Now you ask, “Why NOT me?”

So – “Why do I read?” I’m still frozen. I need to go to hot yoga and thaw out. The yoga studio is where my mind melts and thought is allowed to flow freely.

And so, as another day goes by, I pick up my mat and coconut water and head to my “studio”, where I will discover that I, too, will think thoughts no one has ever thought before, RIP Nora Ephron, and…I have written.


Why Do I Read?

It’s Alright

When I woke up this morning I was a little sluggish – not necessarily tired, but unmotivated and a bit anxious. I knew morning pages and some meditative readings would be a good place to begin turning this day around. Praying for others and giving gratitude began to restore my energy. Then, once again, there, right in front of me, appears exactly what I needed when I needed it.

The reading for today, by Melody Beattie, was entitled Surviving Slumps: June 26. I was amazed. She said:

“In a slump we may find ourselves reverting instinctively to old patterns of thinking, feeling, and behaving, even when we know better.”

When I hit a slump, the thing that scares me is that I will revert back to those old patterns and that’s what causes my anxiety – because the thing I don’t ever want to do is revert back to how I was feeling one year ago. As I read further, she wrote the saving words:

“We’re in a slump. It won’t last forever. These days are normal, even necessary. These are the days to get through.”

Then later on in the passage she gave the key to getting through these days:

“I will remember that acceptance, gratitude, and detachment are a good place to begin.”

Everyone of us has off days. We wake up, much like I did today, in a slump for no reason at all. We must not try to shrug it off. We must pay attention to how we feel and attend to it. Feeling our feelings is essential to changing them and letting them pass through us. Not attending to them will cause them to hang around a lot longer than we’d like, causing undue anxiety.

By the time I got to yoga I was smiling and my spring was back in my step. I now know there is no going back to last year. Last year I never would’ve been able to recover that spring, that quickly.

In class, the instructor brought up things this practice spent all last year teaching me. Do the very best I can do today. It’s yoga practice, not yoga perfect. It’s not how many times you fall out of a pose, it’s how many times you get back in it. Do the best you can with the body to have today.
Once again, how perfect was the timing for the things I needed to be reminded of this very morning. It still continues to amaze me how the same 26 postures can continue to teach and heal completely different things within me each day. It proves we really are brand new and unique when we wake up everyday, and we need to attend to, care for, and be loving with ourselves.

And so, as another day goes by, it’s life practice, not life perfect, and…I have written.


It's Alright

“Go”ing For It!

How many times do we set a goal for ourselves? How many times do we decide to do something, get really excited about something, and months later we realize we hadn’t even started it yet? Today something came across my desk that wasn’t very long, but really made me think. Tom Landry once said:

“Setting a goal is not the main thing. It’s deciding how you will achieve it, and staying with that plan.”

I looked at that quote and thought how very true, and then I was going to pass over it. As I was about to delete it, my eye caught the word “goal”. It struck me that the first two letters are “go”. You can’t achieve your goal if you never really get up and “go”. The first thing you have to “go” and do is write out your action plan. The next thing you have to “go” and do is the first thing your plan says to do. They key word is “go”, implying action, movement and momentum.

And so, as another day goes by, sometimes “go” means moving out of our comfort zone because that’s where our goals reside, and…I have written.


"Go"ing For It!

What Kind of Cocktail Are YOU?

Last Sunday I was in NY when my Cape Cod Times was delivered. When I returned I set it aside, meaning to read it. All this week I tried to get to it, even contemplated throwing it away a few times. I stopped myself because the Sunday CCT has wonderful extra things in it besides news, so even if the news was old, it was still useful. Today I picked it up after I read today’s Times. I’m glad I did because in the book section I found a great beach read by a local author. I had my head in my new business all week and today was SUCH a beach day, I just wanted to be part of someone else’s world for an afternoon – I’m sure you all get that.

The book I downloaded was “Island Apart” by Steven Raichlen. It takes place on Chappaquiddick Island off of Martha’s Vineyard. Although I just started it today, I find the story and the characters unique and engaging. The author describes the two women protagonists using cocktails. I love it. Take a look:

“If Sheila were a cocktail, it would be made in a blender and festooned with a maraschino cherry and a paper umbrella. Claire posses the calm of Jodie Foster and the self-depreciating charm of Diane Keaton. If she were a cocktail, it would be stirred, not shaken, and definitely served straight up.”

That was great. It got me thinking what kind of a cocktail would I be? The first thing I know is it would have to be shaken and poured smoothly, because I’m always moving fast to get to where I’m going, then I settle in. I also know there would have to be chocolate syrup stripes decorating the side of the glass, because I do have a sweet streak. Of course it would have to be topped with whipped cream because I always add a new twist to whatever I do – even its been done before. That said – I know exactly who I am. I’m a Seafood Sam’s chocolate martini.

Stirred, shaken, served straight up, decorated? What kind of a cocktail would you be?

And so, as another day goes by, just a bit of fun on a perfect Cape Cod beach day, and…I have written.


What Kind of Cocktail Are YOU?