Archives for 2019

Up The Mountain

There’s an old Chinese proverb that goes “There are many paths to the top of the mountain, but the view is always the same.”

Of course there are multiple interpretations of that, and this one from Hinduism is on my mind today:

There are hundreds of paths up the mountain,
all leading in the same direction,
so it doesn’t matter which path you take.
The only one wasting time is the one
who runs around and around the mountain,
telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.

Put another way, there are many paths up the mountain and only one truth.

That truth is love.

Or, the best way to express that truth is through love in action. You know what that feels like, yet explaining ‘love’ is like trying to slap a definition on a blue sky. You can’t make someone see blue when all they see are clouds and rain.

But this is not supposed to be a long-winded essay today. It’s a check-in, a way to let you know that I am still here, walking up that mountain. It’s the same mountain I’ve been walking up for some 25 years now – that’s about the time I identify as the official start of my spiritual journey.

It’s probably been longer, but who’s counting?

Who’s counting a belief in reincarnation that suggests hundreds or thousands of different lives and just as many years?
Who’s counting this soul’s multiple simultaneous incarnations?
Who’s counting multiple lifetimes happening simultaneously through multiple dimensions, time, space, etc.?

There is no time, so there is no counting, and all is now.

Still Climbing

At the start of the trail, the walk is always easy. Wide, smooth, well-trodden, and downright fun. As you rise up (as good a metaphor as I can muster this morning) the path is strewn with all manner of rocks, sticks, fallen branches. It’s steep and uneven and sometimes scary. It’s one obstacle after another because everything in life is the path.

I’m discovering that I have a great need to strip away non-essentials, to once again let go and let go and let go.

I’ve spent the last few years accumulating stuff – literal things like clothes and cookbooks, but also mental stuff like Reiki, QHHT, life coaching, mindfulness, and business ideas.

And I’ve gotten so turned around on the path that I think I have 10,000,000 things do to and am tired of 9,999,999 of them. I’m tired of grasping, wishing, dreaming, tired of thinking about and tired of not doing.

I’m tired of taking on things (Reiki, QHHT, Life Coaching, Mindfulness, business, clothes, and cookbooks) and having little to show — other than a PDF certificate and a large pile of cute clothes and vintage cookbooks.

Paint The Basement

My life coach asked me what I needed to do next to move along the path. I said, “paint the basement.”

I want to focus on the here and now and on things that make a tangible difference for me.

I could get all symbolic on how painting the basement equates creating a solid foundation on which to build my future, but really, there are enough metaphors out there for me to use on another day.

Today, I’m pausing at this grand turn on the path of my life.

Sidebar

(A sidebar is a short story or graphic accompanying and presenting sidelights of a major story. It’s a deviation from the main thread or idea presented here. So you can ignore this part if you’d like.)

I’ve unfollowed a lot of people and pages and businesses on social media. Each platform seems more like a bad joke. Social media wastes time and focuses energy on wants and desires over true connections.

And yes, I know people who use social media for true connections, but the majority of it seems fake and fake and fake. But yet I don’t want to cut the social media cord completely.

Frankly, social media manipulates that deep desire to spy on people. And deep down, that’s what it’s about – jealousy about that life lifestyle or activity or possessions. And in turn, that jealousy becomes fear of missing out (FOMO.)

I’m doing my damnest to seek JOMO (joy of missing out) but there’s the whole “missing out” part of both of these acronyms that bothers me: what exactly is missing from me that needs to be found and fixed?

Keep Climbing

Of the nonsense online, one blog stands heads, fingers, knees, and toes above the others at the moment for me: Schrodinger’s Other Cat.

The posts are usually short and funky, the comments thought-provoking, and the metaphysical humor 100% on point.

It’s definitely not for everyone. But it’s a cozy little box in the corner of the interwebs for consciousness naps and meows that I thoroughly enjoy.

Lately “the cats” have asked readers to experiment with a saying from a student of A Course In Miracles (ACIM.) My experience with this saying was quite interesting, so I thought I’d pass it along.

Take this saying and try it out on anyone and everyone. Include yourself, and those you’re struggling with or have struggled with in the past:

Boss pissed you off? Say the saying!
Cut off in traffic? Say the saying!
Annoying relatives? Say the saying!
Thinking of your ex? Say the saying!
Nosy neighbor? Say the saying!
Burned your dinner? Say the saying!
Former frenemy in your thoughts? Say the saying!
Pesky pests eating your tomatoes? Say the saying!

I work at holding that person in my mind’s eye and gazing into the person’s eyes. Then I say the saying (it’s not a mantra, but, if it’s easier to remember it that way, so be it.) I wait and see how it feels.

That’s the key here — how does it feel? Most people I can do one recitation and feel some change or release. Some folks take two, three, four or more recitations. You may need to stop, collect yourself, and really get in touch with the compassionate part of yourself that loves beyond love – unconditionally.

You’ll know you’re finished saying this for the person because there will be a clear release. For me, it’s usually quite subtle like a gentle sigh or stomach muscles releasing.

Notice any thoughts that appear while you’re doing this. It could be something like “leave me alone” or “thank you.” You might say “whew!” when you’ve finished with some, and smile with others.

Feel free to change the saying around to make it work for you. For the word “Brother” I’ll often say something like “brother, sister, father, mother, source, god, goddess.” And I found that I had to repeat “all is forgiven and released” over and over for some people.

This is one way of being love in action. It is a way to walk your path up and around the mountain of your life with as much love in your heart as you can muster.

Regardless, try it out and let me know how it goes.

You are perfect

immortal spirit

brother

whole and innocent.

All is forgiven

and released.

The Tapestry of Ordinary Life

So I’m on my third, fourth, or maybe fifth time watching the entire seven-season run of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

(I live alone…Amazon Prime and I are good friends.)

The fifteenth episode of season six is called “Tapestry.” And here’s a quick synopsis because it’s important to understand the essence of this episode for all that I have to say about my life right now.

Picard’s Regrets

Main character Captain Picard is rushed to the Enterprise’s operating table where he dies because his artificial heart has stopped. He’s given a second chance at life by an omnipotent character named Q.

In their conversation, Picard admits he regrets much of his younger life because he was arrogant and cocky. This intrigues the omnipotent Q, who allows Picard to “pull on this thread” of his life to see what happens.

So Picard ‘pulls’ on a very specific thread in his life: the events that led him to have an artificial heart. He returns to his early 20s, and we see him attempting to date multiple women on one day.

More importantly, we see the events that led up to him starting a bar fight which led to his knifing, which led to the artificial heart, which has caused his ‘death.’

Picard’s Boring Life

And while it’s funny to see an aging Picard playing out that incident with his youthful friends, the part of the ‘tapestry’ I’m most interested in is when Picard is placed back onto the Enterprise. This is the fleet’s flagship, and of which he is captain – but not in this ‘new’ reality.

Instead, someone else is captain and Picard is a Lieutenant Junior Grade Astrophysics Administrator – or some goofy title like that.

He goes to the starship’s bar, Ten Forward, and asks for an employee review.

It doesn’t go well.

I Am That Picard

Picard is so very, very wrong about that quiet life. It was not dull and tedious – it only seemed that way through his eyes.

It really bothers me (and bothers plenty of other people) that this normal life is portrayed as if it’s horrible.

What the heck is wrong with a “normal” life? I am that Picard. My day-to-day life is pretty darn dreary and repetitive.

I wake up.
I have some tea.
I go to work.
I come home.
I feed the cats.
I read a book.
I watch yet another episode of Star Trek.
I have dinner with a friend.
I clean the litter boxes.
I plant some flowers.
I buy cute clothes at thrift stores.
I meditate a little here and there.

And that’s it, folks, there’s very little excitement in my normal, everyday, ordinary life.

Or is there?

Ordinary Extraordinary

My blogging friend Beth Ann Chiles writes nearly every day at It’s Just Life: Finding the Extraordinary in the Ordinary. As the title suggests, the blog covers many aspects of Beth Ann’s everyday life: family, friends, devotionals, teapots, travel, and more.

In chronicling her life, Beth Ann elevates the everyday into something that approaches art.

Or maybe it is art, I don’t know.

But I do know that she’s created a cozy spot on the internet where I always feel welcome, and where there’s probably a pot of tea nearby.

I also envy her many trips around the world – and the fact that she’s at the beach again this week.

But the thing that gets me about Beth Ann’s blog is that her “ordinary” life is not Picard’s dreaded “dull and dreary.” It’s magical.

There Are No Dull and Dreary Lives

More to the point, my life isn’t dull and dreary. There are these amazing high points:

Living in London just after college.
My first apartment in Toledo and the writing and modeling friends.
Life in Athens with more writing and meditation friends.
Living and working at the Omega Institute for Holistic Studies.
That amazing trip to Peru a few years ago with magical waterfall experience.

All I have to do is start making a list, and I’ve had a lot of amazing experiences.

To be sure, there have been lows, too.

Filing for both bankruptcy and divorce in the same year was horrible.
Getting fired from a job wasn’t fun either, but retrospect shows me the journey from that point to now.

We all know life isn’t about the high or the low points. Life is a sum of all of those points and finding that middle road where all is well for us.

Getting Busy

It would be easy to argue that Picard’s view of that “dull dreary” life is flawed. Through the magic of storytelling, he’s thrown into that life without the benefit of the experiences that led him to the ‘end’ of the journey. Surely there have been wonderful things happen in that Picard’s life.

Unlike that Picard, though, you and I have the ability to stop and look back and the various twists and turns that led us to here and now. Having done this recently, I am at a still point with being the “dull and dreary” Picard.

Not long ago, I wrote about how I thought that if I “that if I just put up a pretty website and got busy with business-like things, my life would change.”

Unpacking The Story

Unpacking that sentence and the story behind that “still point” for you a little more, I was obsessed and enamored with the idea of having a business.

The idea of one – not the reality. I had grandiose ideas about what running a business by myself meant and had convinced myself that being busy = business.

In my mind, I needed to be as busy as possible because surely that would make my business succeed, right?

But the more I observed this desire to have a business, the less it felt real. It didn’t have meaning and purpose and felt terribly hollow.

So I let go of that desire. It really was that easy.

In writing one morning, I asked what I really needed to do. And the answer had nothing at all to do with running a business.

Stop Forcing Success

If you want coaching, I can do that. If you want writing, I can do that. But I’m not going to run around and try to force success to happen anymore.

One other thing I’ve realized is that all of the amazing things in my life came relatively easily.

Yes, I had to work at them.

But those things came together in a way that I can only describe as magic or happenstance or fate. The less I fight with life, the more it flows. And I know that miracles of all sizes happen every day when you least expect them.

So now my life is back to a normal, ordinary, gentle hum.

Does your life hum? Do you see the magic?

Writing & Mindfulness

Not long ago I told someone that I was interested in the intersection of writing and mindfulness. The phrase just rolled off my tongue and – to be honest – I wasn’t quite sure what I meant.

A female hand holding a pen and writing. The words "writing and mindfulness."

Full disclosure: I am an Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a link and buy something (even if it’s not the particular book,) I receive a little compensation.

At first glance, mindfulness and writing have zero commonality. But a closer look reveals the “intersection” – that place where the two meet.

The easiest way to experience this intersection is by writing by hand. There comes a very obvious transition from complaining and list making to what feels like taking notes from god – spirit – source – whatever. And it’s clearly not you thinking, because words flow freely and are deftly organized.

For me, this “space” of not thinking is where my best writing comes from.

This transition between everyday consciousness to something else is nothing new for writers. Natalie Goldberg’s beloved Writing Down The Bones touches this space, as do Julia Cameron’s “Morning Pages” exercise. Both help you move from everyday and into this other type of writing. Here’s how to recognize that space:

Everyday Writing

Complains
Makes to do lists
Acts like “The Editor” and criticizes
Intellect talking to itself
Feels like you’re working at writing
Your handwriting is practiced and perfect

ExtraOrdinary Writing

I’m not writing, I’m taking notes from god.
Flow and lack of effort
The words move through me
It writes itself
Handwriting is loose and playful

When you enter into the stillness of not thinking, your writing changes. For me, if I do nothing for long periods of time, this “ExtraOrdinary” writing comes naturally. It becomes -if you will – the new every day. The question is how to get these extraordinary states to come into your life more often.

I daydream. I stay quiet and let cats sit on my lap for a long time. I don’t run off and get busy with a to-do list. This doing nothing keeps the connection between rigid consensual reality and source/spirit/no time firm. And the more you move back and forth between these two ways of being, the easier it becomes to adapt to the timelessness of not thinking.

The “lack” of structured time is a terrifying thought for anyone caught in 9-5, appointments, and to do lists. By daydreaming and not doing on a regular basis, you acclimatize yourself to this sinuous approach to life. I believe it is the natural way to be in the body.

Abandon Thought

We love thinking and linear thought. But there are other ways of being in the world that are utterly devoid of thought and that are profoundly natural and transformative.

On page 12 of Mindfulness, Bliss, and Beyond, Ajahn Brahm gets straight to the heart of the matter of this problem of thinking and commenting on everything. He calls it “inner speech.”

…inner speech does not know the world at all. It is the inner speech that spins the delusions that cause suffering. Inner speech causes us to be angry with our enemies and to form dangerous attachments to our loved ones. Inner speech causes all of life’s problems. It constructs fear and guilt, anxiety, and depression. It builds these illusions as deftly as the skilled actor manipulates the audience to create terrors or fears. So if you seek truth, you should value silent awareness and, when meditating, consider it more important than any thought.

Inner speech gets in the way of good writing. Learn to abandon inner speech, so your writing moves into that ‘other’ extraordinary space.

Writing morning pages – aka stream of consciousness or writing whatever comes into your head – helps you make the leap between here and there.

Meditation takes you the rest of the way.

But that’s another story.

Ice Cream Is Evil

We love the idea that learning a new mantra, meditation, or yoga pose will cause great change in our lives. For me, I thought that if I just put up a pretty website and got busy with business-like things, my life would change.

It didn’t happen.

The mantra, meditation, yoga pose, and ‘business-like’ things are all outward actions on the physical shape of the body, vocalization, and so on. The business-like things generated a LOT of literally paper clutter and oodles of electronic slush.

We think this seated meditation posture is correct and that sitting meditation posture is incorrect. None are correct and none are incorrect. If anything, our (my) thinking is faulty. It places hope on some external thing: mantra, meditation, pose, procedure.

The hardest work is that which we do on ourselves: that work of uncovering the lies we’ve told ourselves or the lies we’ve been led to believe.

And they’re not necessarily lies, but rather misinterpretations or “not seeing clearly.” After all, all experience is clouded by previous experience.

Evil Ice Cream

Let’s say that from a very young age, I was taught that ice cream is evil.

(Stop giggling. Just go with me on this. We can get together and have ice cream together later.)

So when I see an ice cream truck, ice cream store, or walk near the ice cream store in the grocery I have a tinge of fear.

If you see someone eating ice cream, you might fear for their well-being or perhaps their immortal soul.

Maybe you’d cross to the other side of the street, turn the other way, all to protect yourself from the very sight of ice cream.

And your self talk — that monologue inside your head – might go something like this:

I can’t believe anyone would eat that stuff. It’s just horrible.
It’s dangerous; ice cream is a killer.
It’s terrible for your self esteem.
It stunts your growth. It’s not healthy.
My parents say ice cream looks like cold mashed potatoes and tastes even worse; there’s no way I’d get anywhere near ice cream.
Ewwww, it’s so cold and wet and it smells funny.
I heard that ice cream causes you to shiver and have fits and if you eat it enough you die.”

Ice Cream Rebellion

But maybe you’re the rebellious type and just can’t stop yourself from thinking about ice cream. And – if you didn’t know – what you think about persists and persists…so you think about ice cream a LOT.

Perhaps you stand next to someone who just ate ice cream and didn’t suffer or you talk with someone who’s currently eating ice cream and seems to be enjoying the expereince.

This curiosity helps you discover a new perspective that you’d never considered. It’s small “enlightenment:” at least one person thinks ice cream is good.

You begin to explore ice cream. You read about ice cream. You learn about the ingredients, and about ice cream made. You discover it’s really not cold mashed potatoes. You learn there are a zillion flavors.

One brave day you try ice cream…just a little bite. It’s not so bad after all, and you wonder what all the fuss is about. And you start to question every little thing you’ve every been told about ice cream

Uncovering Lies

The process of uncovering the ‘not evilness’ of ice cream takes time. Occasionally it’s an immediate transformation, like a speeding semi-truck to your soul, but more often than not, it’s a slow, steady march of changing consciousness.

Yes, consciousness.

The thought pattern that “ice cream is evil” is interrupted when you meet someone who thinks ice cream is good. You may not like the opinion, but that one interaction is the thing that puts the crack in your thought.

It’s – as Leonard Cohen says – where the light gets in to you that ice cream is (at the very least) not evil.

Invisible Work

This work of uncovering your closed doors, your dark corners, your locked closets is invisible.

It’s not tangible. You can’t touch it or smell it. You can’t show it off to your friends like a cute new dress or pretty picture or new car. But it’s sometimes like a fresh coat of paint in a dingy room, or a slight breeze on a summer day, or a breathy whisper.

It’s quiet. It’s personal, excruciatingly personal. After all, ice cream is evil, right?

Nothing Is New

I don’t know about you, but I love diving in and learning new things: the newness titillates and delights.

I also know there’s is nothing new to learn, and Love and Rockets had it right in the 80s… there’s “No New Tale To tell.”

Even now, thirty years later, there’s still no new tale to tell. The names, faces, gadgets, and disguises have changed, but every little thing you want to explore has been done before.

Throw in concepts of alternate and collapsing timelines, multiple dimensions and realities and there’s no doubt this “new” thing has been done thousands of times before.

In fact, no matter how much I really want to be, I am not original.

Still, hear the peel of the distant bells ringing. Hear the thunder of your heart calling you home.

Walk into the class, say hello, begin again to be a beginner.

Dance the new dance that speaks you name.

Be quiet. Be wild.

Be all you, whoever that may be.

(And have that big ol’ bowl of ice cream, because summer’s almost here.)

Writing the Sly Silence Within

Working on a mindfulness certification, the one practice that pulls me forward is following the word.

That is, following the words that appear in my head as I’m meditating. I follow, realize I’m following, and return to breathing. I do the same thing when writing.

This practice developed by reading Julia Cameron and Natalie Goldberg years ago. Cameron talks about morning pages – three pages off the top of your head written by hand first thing in the morning, no interruption, no stopping to correct errors. Goldberg combined Zen meditation training with “stream of consciousness” writing and often wrote through a small notebook each month.

Both techniques help me find that sly silence within.

Being a Star Trek fan, I think that sly silence is the most interesting place ever. And you don’t have to get on a starship or airplane or cruise ship or any vehicle other than your own to get there. You just have to be quiet, really quiet, like this poem about writing a poem.

How to you reach that sly silence within?

Menopause and Loss

Some time ago, I likened the transition from having a period every month to not having a period as a process of moving an ocean from here to there via teaspoon. Inevidably, you lose some water.

I haven’t actually hit the officialy menopause mark, but I’ve been working my way there for fifteen years. Yes, I did say fifteen years.

Gushing

I distinctly remember when I knew my body was changing. I turned forty. I was married, living in Tennessee, working at a job I didn’t like. I was probably depressed, though it’s never been diagnosed (and I’ve had a few bouts of what I identify as depression. It’s been years though, so let’s not dwell on sadness.)

I was having a period. And then, gushing. It was as if I all of the blood in my body was bleeding out. I swear.

Anyone with medical knowledge will know that that’s not what happened but that’s what it seemed like to me. Thankful to be at home, I was nevertheless miserable.

It only lasted five to six hours, but it signaled that my body was ready to change. That change has proceeded on since then, for fifteen years.

Thankfully, I haven’t experienced another onset of heavy bleeding of that nature. But there have been plenty of other symptoms: hot flashes, weight gain and loss, dietary requirements adjusted, sleep interruption. Through all of it, I’ve trusted that my body knew exactly what it needed to do. It’s much smarter than me.

Body changes I could deal with. But I wasn’t prepared for the theme of loss.

An Emerging Theme

This theme of loss has only emerged clearly in the last six months, mostly during coaching sessions. That hour-long meeting gets me to talk about what’s going on in my life.

As I talk, things emerge that I’ve been thinking about. Those things are often just under the surface of conscious knowledge. That is, when you know you know, but can’t quite put the words to your knowledge.

And this theme of loss is pretty stunning. Here is a growing list of things that you might consider losses. Some of them apply to me, others not so much – at least not yet.

the death of my old self and old ways of doing things
the death of how I used to be able to eat anything
the end of the summer of life, and the beginning of the autumn of life
the end of following the unending “I should” or “am supposed to” do it this way, and the unfolding of new ways that are unique to me.
an empty nest
parents dying or having to caretake for your parents
loss of anticipated freedom – How you were dreaming of a carefree retirement, but now you have to take care of your parents or grandchildren or partner.
your youth: looks fade, skin, hair, the ability to adapt as fast as you used to
physical changes: not just menopause, but back pain, feet changes, physical mobility
the death of friends
the death of famous people you’ve followed for years either via a real death or their fall from grace
the death of a relationship
letting go of the old messages that were stuck – things like “this is how you’re supposed to be at this age.” These things just aren’t true, and they’re constantly changing
In the maiden/mother/crone trio, there’s the change from extended maiden to crone — and I skipped mother all together.

There Are Gains In Those Losses

Just like the cycle of seasons, and the abundance of crops at harvest time, menopause does bring significant gains.

But just for now, talk to me about loss.

What did you lose? How did it make you feel? What did you do to move forward?

More Money Than Sense

I’ve hit a point in my income earning where, every so often, I’m pretty sure I’ve got more money than sense.

I buy what I want, when I want, with one click. It’s delivered quickly – no waiting 7-14 days. I use it, read it, try it, and move on to the next thing. Practical money saving sense? It’s gone out the door.

But actually, that’s not true. With more money than sense I am saving more, but also spending more, accruing more debt and (especially for me) accruing a whole lot of stuff.

Kondo Kondo Kondo

No, not Quando Quando Quando

Writing blog posts leads me to the weirdest things.

Marie Kondo is onto something when she talks about items sparking joy. Much of my stuff does bring me pleasure as I smile remembering when and where I got the stuff. Anytime I wear the clothes-stuff that sparks joy, it seems like the whole day is just a little lighter.

(If you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know who Marie Kondo is, this video is a great introduction. It’s an average couple applying the Marie Kondo methods of decluttering to their belongings. )

Some folks crave a lot of stuff and are happy living with lots of stuff, but not me. I actually crave a Zen-like streamlined home. I’m a closet minimalist living in a home with hundreds of books, a tall stack of jeans, and I-don’t-know-how-many black turtlenecks — not to mention the other odds and ends of living, cooking, and (ahem) gardening.

This is not necessarily bad, I guess, but it weighs me down emotionally and eats time.

Having to keep those jeans neatly stacked is a pain. They topple and I refold. Then I think I want the pair on the bottom, but really want the pair in the middle, and the whole pile needs re-building again and again. The same is true with books and yes, they get re-organized, too.

Summer to Winter to Summer to Winter to Summer

Then there’s the whole ‘transitional’ switch from summer to winter and back again with clothes. Here in Michigan, the transition starts for me with cooler weather in September; I start pulling out slightly warmer sweaters and layering a little more.

This year, though, winter came on slowly. So even in December, I wasn’t wearing my warmest clothes. Finally, in January the truly cold weather hit and I pulled the last of my super warm things out of the ‘storage’ closet into the ‘actively wearing’ closet.

And the whole process reverses March-April-May when I start pulling out lightweight sweaters and jackets to accommodate for the slowly rising (and oft times falling) temperatures. It will probably end in June or whenever the first week of temperatures hits 80-90s.

That’s not efficient, it’s crazy.

To me, more money than sense means I go to the thrift store and spend $50 just because I can. It means an order arriving from Amazon once a week, and eating out whereever and whenever I please. It means yet another class about a really interesting subject that I will not apply to everyday life. (See This Voraciousness for a slightly different perspective.)

Simpler Times

More money than sense means I cater to my whims and (for goodness sake whodathunkit) think about ‘simpler times’ when I had less money. My desires were just as great, but my ability to attain those goals was much less.

I imagine we all have a point where we hit that “more money than sense” point. Not that we all recognize it once we’ve hit it…

For sure we know when we see it in others; but then again, fixing someone else’s life is always easier than fixing our own. My own. Do you know what I mean?

Observing patterns in my life and then changing those patterns is not an easy task; just look at the various ways you can spend hours looking at patterns. And yet, in the journey towards higher consciousness that is precisely what you have to strive to do. Find the pattern, change the pattern.

I’m vaguely Marie Kondo-ing, or at least sending heaps of things to the thrift store. I’m looking at goals and realizing I’ve moved towards them ever so slightly or not one damned step. I’m forgiving myself.

I’m as complicated and complicit as ever. Complicated because, in a society built around being ‘coupled’ being single and ‘doing it all’ is freaking hard – even for a super independent person like me. And complicit because there’s never anyone else but me to blame: it’s definitely my fault, no question about it.

Sigh.

More money than sense? I’ve hit that point and I’m stunned. I’m still not even sure what that means to me going forward. I’m OK with not knowing (which can lead to its own issues like analysis paralysis – a personal favorite. Still, there is forward movement, one bold baby step at a time.

Reading Soothes My Soul (February 2019)

Here we are in February and I’m still reading. Over the holidays, I saved a few books from my sister’s house. She was going to donate the books; instead, they came home with me and will visit my friends – and then probably be donated.

Full disclosure: I am an Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a link and buy something (even if it’s not the particular book,) I receive a little compensation. I think I’ve made $5-10 over the years of blogging, probably because I’ve clicked on my links – lol.

The Collector by Nora Roberts. You know, Nora Roberts who writes both mushy romances and thriller mysteries as J.D. Robb? The Collector combines those into one romantic thriller mystery thing that actually works. Fun vacation read with Fabrege eggs, too.

Where’d You Go Bernadette? by Maria Semple. Quirky Seattle family has a mother with a past. Mom melts down and runs away. Everybody loves everybody all the same, and Antartica sounds like a nice place for a family vacation.

Secrets of the Tsil Cafe by Thomas Fox Averill. One of my favorite foodie books, this is a coming-of-age story about a young boy. His father is the chef/owner of the only Southwestern/Native American restaurant in Kansas City; upstairs from the restaurant, his mother runs an eclectic catering business. Don’t think Upstairs Downstairs, think habanero, chipotle, jalapeno, and life. This is one of the first books I remember reading that included recipes; of course, I wouldn’t even dare try because – well – habanero, chipotle, and jalapeno.

The Lost Summer of Louisa May Alcott by Kelly O’Connor McNeeds. A friend gave this to me because she couldn’t finish it. I did finish it, but don’t think it was worth reading. The ending was particularly unsatisfying and impossible to believe. On the plus side it’s well researched and authentic to the time period, I just think it wavers too far into fantasy for me (and I like a good fantasy.)

Burning Glass by Kathryn Purdie. A superbly empathetic young girl is brought into the castle to serve as the emperor’s “Auraseer.” Unfortunately, her empathetic talents are untrained, and the dangers in the castle are about to skyrocket. P.S. There’s love in here, too, and it’s a series because something definitely happens after the revolution.

The Color of our Sky by Amita Trasi. This was also gifted to me from a friend, and it is magnificent, if a little unbelievable. Sometimes I’m OK with going along with the ‘unbelievability’ of a story so long as the story is worth it; this one is. Two friends are separated by years and distance; eleven years later they are reunited, and hoo boy, getting there is worth the read.

Feed by M.T. Anderson. This National Book Award Finalist from 2002 so exactly predicts our current reality it’s scary. There’s a trip to the moon, a whirlwind of advertisement, and a romance… and there’s this paragraph that sounds nothing at all like our current world, right?

“Everything we’ve grown up with — the stories on the feed, the games, all of that — it’s all streamlining our personalities so we’re easier to sell to. I mean, they do these demographic studies that divide everyone up into a few personality types, and then you get ads based on what you’re supposedly like. They try to figure out who you are, and to make you conform to one of their types for easy marketing. It’s like a spiral: They keep making everything more basic so it will appeal to everyone. And gradually, everyone gets used to everything being basic, so we get less and less varied as people, more simple. So the corps make everything even simpler. And it goes on and on.”
page 97, Feed by M.T. Anderson

Life Without Water by Nancy Peacock. This is a short, heart-wrenching novel about growing up in the craziness of the late 1960s and early 70s. Mom is a beautiful young thing who hooks up with a drug dealer and artist, daughter is a free spirit, and they live on a funky commune in rural North Carolina. Until they don’t, and then do again.

Kindred Spirits by Sarah Strohmeyer. Heartwarming and heartbreaking chick flick novel. Read this with your girlfriends, decide which one of the main characters you are. Celebrate with good food, margarita’s, and a spontaneous road trip.

I am trying to work my way through They F*** You Up by Oliver James, but it’s slow going. James argues that it is as much nurture (or lack of nurturing) that forms who you become as it is nature. And there are statistics, so. many. statistics. I’m thoroughly enjoying the book but boy, it’s a slog.