Hi readers! Sunday is devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. I consider Sundays to be a word play workshop in which you just start writing the words and get delighted or confused or fascinated, by where they take you. Please add your poetry to my Comments section. Here is my poem for today:
Last Night’s Storm
Sometimes storms brew in the far distance,
Where they seem exciting and thrilling and intriguing.
They are a fireworks show, without the terror of proximity.
But other times, storms sit right over top of you,
In the ultimate power play, daring you to breathe normally.
Like a indignant bully, sitting hard on your chest.
Last night contained one of those hair’s breadth storms,
That had me seriously wondering about my fate.
Would I make it to see the bright, beautiful morning,
Or would my lover and I turn into small flecks of charred ruin?
Wrapped up in each other’s arms, shielding and comforting each other,
From the anger and rage which nature sometimes righteously inflicts.
Sometimes storms brew in the far distance,
But sometimes storms choose to confront you,
With their awe striking power, and random, “nothing personal” blows,
In order to shake you to your very core, just because they can.
“Things will go undiscussed and maybe this is for the best. Words will have a way of reducing an experience. Besides, it is too soon to define and name all that’s going on.”
This is my horoscope this morning from Holiday Mathis. This is also the last day in which all of our six immediate family members will be together, for a while. My eldest son leaves tomorrow to go back to his home up north, and my middle son leaves on Monday for his senior year of college. My youngest son wants to get a couple of weeks of work in, before he heads back to the university, by the end of the month. And so, of course, I am trying to push all of this reality to the far back, dark corners of my mind. I am reminding myself to stay in the moment, and to Savor. Savor. Savor.
There were plenty of times over the years that managing our growing, large family was overwhelming and exhausting and emotionally taxing and expensive and chaotic and loud and seemingly never-ending. There were many times over the years that I had to remind myself to turn Complain. Complain. Complain. . . . into Savor. Savor. Savor.
Like my horoscope says, “it is too soon to define and name all that’s going on”. I feel like I have been in the middle of trying to define this new stage of my life (the stage where I have to let go of what was, to forge forward, into what will be), for a long, long time now, but it is still too soon to do that. I’m still in the middle of releasing the tight ball of yarn that was our family. The yarns are scattering, the tight ball of string is now more of a loose puddle, but it hasn’t taken on its new form yet. It’s still a fluid, puddle of yarn. Our family yarn is still trying to find its new shape and form. And every once in a while, like during this past week, the string that binds our family, gets together again, and forms into that tight, little, familiar, cozy, warm ball and this coming together reminds us that no matter what our family tapestry ends up looking like in the future, it all started, here, at its core. In the center of that ball is the heart of it all – the love that binds us.
Hi friends! Happy Friday!!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!! New readers, I don’t go to the “whys” of anything on Fridays. On Fridays, I keep it on the surface, and I list three favorite things, songs, products, websites, foods, etc., that make life just a little bit more fun! I strongly encourage you to list your favorite items in my Comments section and please check out previous Friday postings for more fun favorites. Here are today’s favorites:
The “2020 Mood of the Month” calendar, featuring Reese Witherspoon, put a smile on my face and a chuckle in my throat. A whole bunch of celebrities got in on “the mood of the month” action, and they can be seen in the above article, and also on Twitter. I think that we all can completely relate to the expressions shown on their faces. And I don’t think that it’s acting on anyone’s part. Reality bites in 2020, in many ways. And it certainly shows on people’s faces. Actors are just particularly expressive.
Giovanni Rana Gnocci Skillet Kit – If you think that gnocci is delicious, you will think that this gnocci is ridiculously delicious. I purchased this “easy and quick to put together” kit at Costco, without even getting a sample bite first. I feel like I hit the jackpot. Everyone in my family is in agreement that this might be some of the best gnocci they have ever eaten. Bon Apetit!
Friday Night Lights – This is an older TV series (early 2000s), but if you have never seen it, you must watch it now. My husband, my daughter and I have been hooked for about a month now, watching this TV show series practically every single night. Even my eldest son, whose only been here for the week, is completely hooked with us. The show features a small Texas town, whose whole community identity comes from their high school football team. The show doesn’t sugarcoat what it is like for people’s life experiences in remote, rural towns, with limited opportunities, and Coach Eric Taylor and his wife Tami, remind you that there are good-hearted, “full of integrity and tenacity and dedication” people out there in the world, even when it sometimes seems like these types of people, are few and far between.
Remember, Fridays deserve January’s mood, even in August 2020. Happy weekend, friends!!
Yesterday, I was reminded of one of my favorite little tomes of all time, Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. We had a family boating day, and while my husband and my middle son were silently fishing, my eldest son and my daughter and I swam over to a tiny little island to explore what treasures might be found. My gift from the sea, yesterday, was a lovely, surprisingly vivid, pink feather. My gift from the sun, yesterday, was a not-so-lovely pink sunburn. We used up an entire can of 50 level sunscreen, and yet still, the entire family is donning our (in various shades of pinkish tan, all the way to glaring red), badges of shame. It’s disconcerting to reach the age in life, where you have lived an entire cycle of boastful pride to shameful mortification, for the exact same behaviors. When I was a kid, having a tan was a badge of pride and honor. Any level of obvious sun exposure to your skin, suggested that you were lucky and prosperous enough to visit somewhere (even if it was just the neighborhood pool) to have enough leisure time to lay out and bake in the sunshine. We didn’t have iPads or phone games back then, so picking at our peeling skin was a strangely satisfying past-time. Now to be clear, I have witnessed family members and friends, deal with various degrees of skin cancer, so I know that where we are in the cycle of “it is shameful to have a suntan”, is where we should probably stay. Progress is not a backwards motion. Lately, it seems to me that rapid changes in societal beliefs and technological advances and scientific discoveries are happening at such warp speed, that it makes me feel like perhaps in a lot of ways, in a lot of my life, I was doing everything entirely wrong, and that I was often looking at things through a faulty, cloudy lens. But that’s not really true, is it? Growth happens all of the time. We start from a tiny little speck and we grow from there, constantly being influenced by internal and external forces, that help mold us into our latest uploads and versions of ourselves. We are works in progress, all of us, and that is true of all living things. Most of us are doing the very best we that we can, every single day. We deserve to give ourselves a break, like perhaps a relaxing day on the beach. Only next time when I give myself a restful day outside, I’ll bring two cans of sunscreen and a wider-brimmed hat. I’m not too prideful, to learn and grow from my experiences, in order to become the latest, best version of me.
My friends and I were texting about all the things which we have found ourselves “overdoing” during this virus crisis. We’ve been over-eating and/or over-drinking and/or over-spending on frivolous impulse items, just to try to make ourselves feel better in the moment. My one friend said that we must add “over-thinking” to the list. It’s true, isn’t it? There is something strangely lulling, yet also at the same time, rather titillating, about obsessing over COVID numbers or big storms or upcoming elections or “masks versus no masks” or the economy or back to school procedures. But no matter whatever we are over-indulging in, the relief is always fleeting and temporary. And then, much like any type of an addiction, the relief quickly wears off, often turning into remorse and regret and shame, which triggers our need for temporary “fixes” again, starting the cycle all over again.
It always comes back to mindfulness, doesn’t it? When we can become our own detached observers, and we notice when we have tipped our toes too deep into the overindulgence arena, in any of the various facets of our own lives, that is when we can mindfully choose different options for ourselves. When we notice our emotions and triggers, and we can find healthy alternatives for self soothing, we find that the overwhelming emotions will pass sooner than we thought they would. When managed healthfully, no regret will be left in the wake of a passing negative emotion. In fact, working on changing bad habits, can give us a sense of control in our lives, and who doesn’t want to feel like they have a little bit more control back, in these unsure times in the world?
I like this simple, concise meme about how to change bad habits:
I experienced a beautiful afternoon with all six members of my immediate family yesterday. We laughed at, and we repeated, once again, familiar jokes and memories, and we created new ones for the coffers. We relished in each other’s presence, sometimes quietly and comfortably, and at other times, loudly and boisterously. Our familiarity with each other’s quirks and our united love of the family island, which the six of us create, created a cozy, warm womb that kept all of the problems of the world at bay, at least for one, sunny, lovely summer afternoon.
If there is one gift that this coronavirus has given to any of us, is a renewed gratefulness for all that is precious to us. Nothing is taken for granted anymore. Every day, the OCD part of me, instinctively sticks my nose into a jar of a burnt down Diptyque Blissful Amber candle, to make sure I still have my sense of smell, thus in my simple mind, keeping the coronavirus at bay. And as I luxuriate in one of my most favorite scents, I am so utterly grateful for my sense of smell.
We all have a million examples of who we love and what we really enjoy, that is being highlighted and appreciated intensely, in our hearts, these days. Life feels more fragile than ever, and fragility always leads to preciousness. If an experience is suddenly seen as a rare gift, it is in our nature to soak in the experience, with a rapt attention, instead of just going through the motions, rather unconsciously. The coronavirus, when not taking life away, has actually added a vivid consciousness and a focused presence, to so many of our lives. It has given us the golden pen and the holy parchment, to start writing down the long count of our many blessings and memories which we long to keep, because we now know that the experiences and the memories, might be more fleeting than we ever understood before.
I’m preparing for a nice afternoon, out on a boat, with my family. My mind seas are a little choppy today. I’m having a hard time finding the calm in my emotional and mental waters, from which place I typically write my blog. (perhaps too much excitement and/or coffee) Therefore, I am going to list a few quotes that I found on the internet or on inspirational signs, the last few weeks, which I have jotted down in one of my “Things to Ponder” notebooks. I hope that you find them as interesting and thought provoking as I did. Have a wonderful start to your week. Here are some things to think about to get the wheels churning this morning:
“Learn the difference between being patient and wasting your time.”
“The wrapping is lovely, but the box is empty.”
“You can’t see your reflection in boiling water. Similarly, you can’t see the truth in a state of anger.”
“Energy flows, where your attention goes.”
“How they treat you is what they think of you. What you allow is what you think of yourself.”
“Everyone deserves a second chance, but not for the same mistake.”
“Not every friend request is a friend request. Some are just surveillance cameras.”
“When is a problem, gift, responsibility, relationship yours? When you claim it.”
“Everyone loves an honest person until the honest person strikes a chord with a truth they weren’t ready to receive.”
“Your life is your story. Write well, write often. Edit freely.”
I slept so well last night. I always do, when it is the six members of my immediate family, safe under one roof. My eldest son made it back for a visit for the first time since Christmas. We had previous visits planned, but those got delayed, of course, due to the coronavirus. Right now, we are all ecstatic. No one showed his excitement and joy for our son’s return more, than did our Labrador retriever, Ralphie. Ralphie “hugged” our son several times, covered him with slobbery kisses, brought him every toy that he owns, and Ralphie’s tail was going on “high speed” for what seemed like hours, well into the night. Ralphie perfectly portrayed, in physical motion, what all the rest of us were feeling in our hearts. I will never wonder why we love dogs.
New readers, Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. Typically I share I poem which I have written or I share a poem which someone else has written that has touched me. Since, I am eager to get back to the breakfast table, in order to continue to catch up with my son, I am going to share my favorite poem by Rudyard Kipling. It seems like an apropos choice for today. Friends, please add your poetry to the Comments section. The world always needs poetry, especially these days.
“If” by Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Josie, our collie, was teaching Trip, our spaniel puppy some yoga yesterday. It’s good for them to practice yoga, both mentally and physically. I should have joined in. (I’m giddy in excitement because our eldest son comes home today for a visit, but I’m not going to say anything because the superstitious part of me, just doesn’t want to jinx it.) Speaking of cute animals, did you see the news story about Hubert and Kalisa, the aging African lions at the Los Angeles zoo? (I cannot wait to see our son. We haven’t seen him, in person, since Christmas due to this damn virus. But again, I’ll just keep this upcoming visit, to myself.) Hubert and Kalisa were best friends and partners, and were rarely seen apart. They were euthanized together yesterday, because they each had quite a bit of ailments, at their ripe age of 21 years, which is apparently a very, very long life for a lion. (Of course, there is all sorts of drama with my son flying in, because besides the virus fears, we are watching the path of the hurricane, whose name I can’t pronounce (Why do we even have to get creative with names of storms, these days?!?) very closely. But I’m just going to keep my fears to myself and I am just going to stay positive.) I think that Hubert and Kalisa were like the regal, real life fur edition of The Notebook. (I can’t wait to announce on the blog that my son is safely in town, tomorrow. My readers are going to be so surprised and so very happy for me.)
I’m writing a little “bonus blog post” about a touchy subject. This is the first time and the last time that you will ever experience me blogging about this subject because everyone knows that it is “gauche” to talk about money. It’s an uncomfortable and squirmy subject. Still, you may have noticed that I added a “Tip Jar” to my home page. One of you did ask me about it. Another one of you suggested that I add a virtual tip jar, a while ago. I hemmed and hawed about this idea, for a long time.
First of all I LOVE to write on THIS “very special to me”, Adulting – Second Half blog, because, besides my four beautiful children, this blog is my most favorite creation. Writing this blog is right up there with breathing and sex for me. That is why I spend about 3-4 hours almost every single morning working on bringing this blog to fruition. (Truthfully, I rarely get out of my robe until noon because I am so entranced with my blog. Ask my grossed-out family. It’s the truth.) And then I spend at least 1-2 extra hours every day, reading and researching and daydreaming about my next blog post. And I absolutely appreciate that anyone takes any amount of time, during their day, to read my blog and to connect with me. Your time is valuable. I understand this, and I thank you for it, from the bottom of my heart. I write what I want to write about (not what about is marketable, nor trendy, nor sponsored) and you validate me. And I love you for that fact. Writing this blog is my favorite art form. I am not interested in writing books or fiction or how-to articles. Just like some artists prefer water colors, I choose blogging. I choose this particular blog. I choose me. I choose you.
Nonetheless, my hobby (and my passion) is an expensive hobby. I have to pay for annual subscriptions to WordPress and to Bluehost. I forgo the income that I used to make on various part-time jobs that I previously held during my morning hours, for many years, to help bring in some extra money, for my large brood’s “fun fund.” But more importantly, and I say this on behalf of all creatives (and I know that many of my readers are creatives, themselves), our creations are valuable. What creatives create, helps to sustain us all of us, helps to give us hope, helps to revive and inspire us and helps to remind us why we are captivated with living and fascinated with all of our living experiences. Museums are filled to the brim with what the creatives have left behind, and thankfully, their generous benefactors saw what we all desperately need, and all of that, is beautifully filled in the hallowed halls of the archives of history.
“I must study politics and war, that our sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy. Our sons ought to study mathematics and philosophy, geography, natural history and naval architecture, navigation, commerce and agriculture in order to give their children a right to study painting, poetry, music, architecture, statuary, tapestry and porcelain.” – John Adams
Thankfully, my family is blessed with a comfortable life. I am so grateful for that fact. But that does not mean that my creation (or yours) is without worth. Yes, I write this blog out of love and passion and gratitude and meaning and purpose, but that does not mean I should not get compensated for it. I am sure that Beyonce or Taylor Swift or Brad Pitt or Stephen King, does not need even one more penny in their bank accounts to keep them kept, handsomely, for the rest of their lives, but does that mean that they should not be rewarded for their creations which we all so dearly enjoy, even if they got great joy and satisfaction out of their own acts of creation??? Most successful business people enjoy running their businesses. Most surgeons get immense satisfaction out of saving lives. I think most sports professionals feel like they are living “the dream.” But what do many CEOs and medical professionals and NFL stars love to spend their well, hard-earned money on? They choose to spend it on the beautiful creations made by the people who describe life in emotion – emotion shown in paintings, and in photographs, in interior design, in exterior design, in music and in fashion, and in film, and in dance and in poetry.
Friends, I am writing this post as a reminder to me and to all of us, to never forget our own individual worth. The Universe/God/Creation/Mother Earth and Sky designed all of us, to work in unison, to make one beautiful tapestry. Some threads of this cloth mosaic, were meant to be scientists, and others, teachers. Some of us are natural nurturers and carers, and others are amazing visionaries. If we all see the value in our own purposes, and we realize that same value in other people’s purposes, then the weaving of this tapestry happens flawlessly, and the overall outcome can only be nothing short of breath-taking.
I choose not to charge a subscription for my writings because I want my writings to be available to all who enjoy them, and to those who get something from them. I choose not to get involved with advertisers, because I find advertisements annoying and distracting, and I want my blog to be a place of calm for you and for me. So, I put a donation button on my blog, for nothing more than a way to subsidize something that I think benefits us both. If you can afford a subscription, please consider a donation, and if not on my blog, please pay it forward by supporting local artists and crafters and other writers and musicians, etc. who have somehow touched your life and made it feel better and more vivid, to be alive. Thank you for stomaching through this post. I love you all.
