Auld Lang Syne (inspired by Robert Burns' poem)

Was going to blog tomorrow, but decided to weave together some thoughts to post now.  The last 48 hours found me segueing from a place of obvious and understandable grief:  no bereavement group for two weeks because it falls on a Monday:  Christmas Day and New Year's Day + no therapy since late-November because I had COVID and then my therapist got it (not from me, I might add!) = feeling abandoned/desperate/scrambling/extrapolating/melancholy/hyperventilating/anxious/emotional/needy/stomach flip-flops/heart tightness (in my best Mister Rogers voice:  "can you say ALL the feelings?), with no professional support during the hardest time of the year after losing my son three months ago (WTF?!?)

...to an unexpected melting and unstuckness as, two hours ago, I performed a saging ritual to clear negative/destructive energy and conjure positive vibes (and god love my husband for being such a trooper and participating).  I'd been puttering (my mom loved that word!) around the house all day, intentionally straightening/ organizing/decluttering in anticipation of the New Year (in less than four hours!).  And our space looks (mostly) lovely, and it certainly smells divine, and I've also been taking better care of myself (yoga! healthy eating!  being present!), which always helps, right?  

Happy (almost) New Year, my friends!  I remain grateful for your wisdom, hope, love, humor, support, and wholeheartedness these last three months (and always, actually).  And we persist; Onwards indeed... 🌈💗🌞

from Donna Ashworth:

No, 2024 perhaps won’t be your best year yet. 

Nor will it be the worst.

You see, a year is a mosaic of absolutely everything.

Joy, fear, heartache, loss, beauty, pain, love.

Failure, learning, friendship, misery, exhilaration.

Each day, each moment even, is a tiny shard of glass in this beautiful, confusing creation.

2024, like all the years before, will be another mosaic to add to your wall of art

A wall that shows the life, you are continuously gifted.

A wall that shows you are human.

A wall of survival.

I wish you many broken pieces of glass this year, my friends.

Because this is living.

And before you march on in to another year of ‘everything’, pause to look back, at the work you have created thus far.

It is quite something.

You are quite something. 

Now on we go, my friends.

Onwards we very much go.

SONG:  Auld Lang Syne, inspired by Robert Burns' poem (this, my favorite version, was used in the first Sex and the City movie... 💖)

BOOK:  First Year of Grief Club: A Gift From A Friend Who Gets It by Addison Brasil

POEM(S):  if 2023 was the quivering seed

2024 will be the raging bloom 

if in 2023 you were stuck in a box 

in 2024 you’ll tango on the moon  

in 2023 you shouted all your words 

in 2024 your voice will be morning rain 

in 2023 you were told you were broken 

in 2024 you’ll break the cycle of shame 

2023 was the year of the clenched fists

2024 will be the era of pardoned sins 

2023 was when tried to hide your light 

in 2024 you’ll feel safe inside your skin 

2023 wanted to divide us in two 

2024 feels like kindness will multiply 

2023 sounded like a rusty chainsaw 

2024 will be a soft midnight lullaby 

2023 is fading away like an old tire fire 

2024 is strolling toward your front door 

in 2023 we had more ammo than people 

in 2024 we’ll choose empathy over war 

my love, hold my hand so tightly

as the calendar year gently restarts

as 2024 arrives, let’s drop our armor 

and entangle all of our lonely hearts

~ john roedel

The New Song by W. S. Merwin

For some time I thought there was time

and that there would always be time

for what I had a mind to do

and what I could imagine

going back to and finding it

as I had found it the first time

but by this time I do not know

what I thought when I thought back then

there is no time yet it grows less

there is the sound of rain at night

arriving unknown in the leaves

once without before or after

then I hear the thrush waking

at daybreak singing the new song

QUOTE(S):  “Watch out for each other. Love everyone and forgive everyone, including yourself. Forgive your anger. Forgive your guilt. Your shame. Your sadness. Embrace and open up your love, your joy, your truth, and most especially your heart.” ~ Jim Henson

"As the year comes to a close, it is a time for reflection – a time to release old thoughts and beliefs and forgive old hurts.  Whatever has happened in the past year, the New Year brings fresh beginnings.  Exciting new experiences and relationships await.  Let us be thankful for the blessings of the past and the promise of the future." ~ Peggy Toney Horton

“May your walls know joy, may every room hold laughter, and every window open to great possibility.” ~ Mary Anne Radmacher

Someone asked me what is your religion? I said, “All the paths that lead to the light.” ~ Anonymous

Overjoyed (Christine Kane)

I've always loved the week between Christmas and New Year's Day; very chill, peaceful, quiet.  It's not quite the respite it used to be, now that I'm older, not to mention retired... but I still use it to recalibrate from the holiday chaos to hanging new calendars in my kitchen as well as my home office.  

I've done lots of reading, made easy-peasy meals, caught up on some off-beat holiday movies, enjoyed phone calls with friends who live close by as well as those who reside across state lines.  Today was Garden Day, always a delight... and tomorrow I'll finalize the Caring Community newsletter and maybe even prepare my holiday cards for mailing.  It is all good... 💖

In these last few days of 2022, I am embracing my imperfections, in awe of my flaws, counting my blessings, and creating my vision of what I want in the next 365 days... for myself, for my community, and for the world around me.

From the ever-wise Donna Ashworth:

Why do we start a new year, with promises to improve?

Who began this tradition of never-ending pressure?

I say, the end of a year, should be filled with congratulation, for all we survived.

And I say a new year should start with promises to be kinder to ourselves, to understand better just how much we bear, as humans on this exhausting treadmill of life.

And if we are to promise more, let’s pledge to rest, before our bodies force us.

Let’s pledge to stop, and drink in life as it happens.

Let’s pledge to strip away a layer of perfection to reveal the flawed and wondrous humanity we truly are inside.

Why start another year, gifted to us on this earth, with demands on our already over-strained humanity.

When we could be learning to accept, that we were always supposed to be imperfect.

And that is where the beauty lives, actually.

And if we can only find that beauty, we would also find peace.

I wish you peace in 2023.

Everything else is all just a part of it.

Let it be so.

SONG:  Overjoyed by Christine Kane

BOOK:  How to Kiss the Universe: An Inspirational Spiritual and Metaphysical Narrative about Human Origin, Essence and Destiny by Jozef Simkovic  

POEM:  Imaginary Conversation by Linda Pastan

You tell me to live each day

as if it were my last. This is in the kitchen

where before coffee I complain

of the day ahead—that obstacle race

of minutes and hours,

grocery stores and doctors.

But why the last? I ask. Why not

live each day as if it were the first—

all raw astonishment, Eve rubbing

her eyes awake that first morning,

the sun coming up

like an ingénue in the east?

You grind the coffee

with the small roar of a mind

trying to clear itself. I set

the table, glance out the window

where dew has baptized every

living surface.

QUOTE(S):  "At midnight on New Year's Eve, open your front door and back door, saying:  blow out the old, blow in the new, blow out the false and blow in the true.  So Mote It Be!"

"Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance." ~ Brené Brown

Bend and Stretch (Romper Room)

Synchronicity strikes again!

Even before my friend Eileen shared the 30-day Yoga Challenge with Adriene (which I signed up for immediately, and began today), I was thinking of choosing Move as my Word of the Year... but I then decided to fine-tune it even more to Stretch; the second half of 2021 found me strettttcccchhhhing myself in various ways on many levels, as evidenced by the multiple definitions below:

Stretch

~ (of something soft or elastic) be made or be capable of being made longer or wider without tearing or breaking.

~ cause (something) to become longer or wider by pulling it.

~ straighten or extend one's body or a part of one's body to its full length, typically so as to tighten one's muscles or in order to reach something.

~ extend or spread over an area or period of time.

~ last or cause to last longer than expected.

~ make great demands on the capacity or resources of.

~ cause (someone) to make maximum use of their talents or abilities.

~ adapt or extend the scope of (something) in a way that exceeds a reasonable or acceptable limit.

~ a difficult or demanding task.

~ a continuous period of time.

It was beyond amazing, and I want to continue the good feeling and stretch myself even further... past my boundaries, limits, comfort zone... emotionally, physically, spiritually.  I have (oh so) High Hopes for 2022!

Bend and stretch,

Reach for the stars.

There goes Jupiter,

Here comes Mars.

Bend and stretch,

Reach for the sky.

Stand on tip-e-toes,

Oh so high!

SONG:  Bend and Stretch (Romper Room)

BOOK:  The Big Stretch: 90 Days to Expand Your Dreams, Crush Your Goals, and Create Your Own Success by Teneshia Jackson Warner

POEM(S):  Becoming Her by April Green

When I started showing up

as the woman I wanted to be,

the world began responding to me;

showing me all the different ways I needed to keep moving,

and healing and growing

and stretching beyond myself,

beyond anything, I had ever reached before.

When I started showing up

as the woman I wanted to be,

the world led me to a place where

I could finally say:

‘I am her.’

Song by Adrienne Rich

You’re wondering if I’m lonely:

OK then, yes, I’m lonely

as a plane rides lonely and level

on its radio beam, aiming

across the Rockies

for the blue-strung aisles

of an airfield on the ocean.

.

You want to ask, am I lonely?

Well, of course, lonely

as a woman driving across country

day after day, leaving behind

mile after mile

little towns she might have stopped

and lived and died in, lonely

.

If I’m lonely

it must be the loneliness

of waking first, of breathing

dawn’s first cold breath on the city

of being the one awake

in a house wrapped in sleep

.

If I’m lonely

it’s with the rowboat ice-fast on the shore

in the last red light of the year

that knows what it is, that knows it’s neither

ice nor mud nor winter light

but wood, with a gift for burning.

.

QUOTE(S):  "Yesterday I met a whole person. It is a rare experience, but always an illuminating and ennobling one. It costs so much to be a full human being that there are very few who have the enlightenment and the courage to pay the price… One has to abandon altogether the search for security, and reach out to the risk of living with both arms. One has to embrace the world like a lover, and yet demand no easy return on love. One has to accept pain as a condition of existence. One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing. One needs a will stubborn in conflict, yet open always to the total acceptance of every consequence of living and dying." ~ Morris West 

"Whatever wishes to grow within you—a curiosity, a talent, an interest—is life seeking its expression through you.  Our old desire for comfort, even happiness, may prove an impediment.   We are here a very short time. Let us make it as luminous and as meaningful as we can.  Time to stop being afraid, and time to show up as yourself." ~ James Hollis

"I was in darkness, but I took three steps and found myself in paradise. The first step was a good thought, the second, a good word; and the third, a good deed." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? (written by Frank Loesser, so many covers!)

Happy New Year's Eve Day!  Whew, what a year (major understatement... 😝 )

Chico, Rob, and I (Eric has to work) will gather about 7:00 p.m. at Sarah's for sushi delivery, a bit of champagne, and maybe a Disney+ offering (ooh, kinda hoping for Taylor Swift's Folklore:  The Long Pond Studio Sessions documentary/concert?).  Definitely leaving there before the ball drops (Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen!), and crazy traffic and fireworks ensue.  Broward County actually has a 1:00 a.m. curfew.

Much more to say but, for now, I'll just wish you all a day/evening of reflection, gratitude, and anticipation as to what 2021 will bring.  Hoping that the stroke of midnight sees you in the arms of a loved one and, if that's not the case, hug yourself for making it through these difficult times.

Here's/cheers to Better Things... 💞

If you were able to look back at your most brilliant successes, stunning comebacks, amazing catches, and smokin' ideas, Susan, and you were to find that virtually all of them seemed to materialize out of thin air, when you least expected them, and that they had exceeded even your greatest expectations at the time, how excited would you be about the new year and whatever else I've got up my sleeve? 

Hubba, hubba - 

  The Universe

P.S. If I've ever helped you before, Susan, don't you think I can do it again… and again… and again… ad infinitum? Actually, it ought to be even easier next time, with your new saunter.

SONG:  What Are You Doing New Year's Eve (written by Frank Loesser, so many covers!)  Here's one of my favorites, by Mary Margaret O'Hara... 💖

BOOK:  Alchemy 2020: Concoctions of the Quarantine by Cheryl Poepping

POEM:  Twenty Twenty by Lana Hechtman Ayers

This was the year breath became death.

The year the grandparents and great grandparents left us by the thousands, taking their wisdom with them into the great oxygen mask of the heavens. This was the year we covered our mouths and smiled with our eyes if we were able to smile at all.

This year handshakes became passé and hugs a mass hallucination we once had.

This was the year we transformed into a tribe of screens.

The year we finally acknowledged how crucial delivery drivers and supermarket stock clerks are. First responders heroes now more than ever.

This was the year we remembered how to bake bread, learned how to garden.

The year we discovered different species of trees possess distinctive aromas.

This was the year we binge watched and wore out pajamas.

The year we took our pens up and our notebooks seriously.

The year we were speechless.

This was the year we discovered the Zen of handwashing, observed all the delicate shadows the moon tats across night lawns.

This was the year we cancelled weddings, Christmas, died without anyone familiar by our sides.

But this was also the year we took unscheduled strolls in the forest alone, attended the sea’s susurrus lectures, hiked higher than ever before.

The year we feared air and loved air and drove less, thus clearing the air. This was the year we did more fretting, more regretting.

We vowed to vote and kept our promises to ourselves and others.

This was the year we stood up to racial injustice in the myriad ways we could—in the streets, on Facebook, writing to our senators, calling for action against the police, donating to causes, celebrating artists of color, holding our white tongues so the underrepresented could be heard, acknowledged, admired.

This was the year we used our phones to make actual calls, voice to voice, not just for texts and emojis.

The year we cried and shook our heads and wrung our hands at the headlines.

This was the year we lost sleep, lost heart, found hope is action.

This is the year we said I love you over and over.

Sometimes to the person on the other side of the glass.

Sometimes to songbirds.

Sometimes to ourselves.

The year we said I love you to our fragile Earth.

Said I love you, I love you to the universe, and I love my humble place in it, no matter what.

QUOTE:  "If there was a time machine and I could tell my younger self what I'd be doing in 2020, there's no way I'd believe it." ~ Jonny Kim

Starting Over (We're About 9)

It's the last day of January 2020 and, despite the re-occurrence of my back problems and a few blips with family and friends, it's been a good year so far.  I really have enjoyed being off Facebook (so much sensory overload), being more productive, spending more time with Colin, and reading like a motherf*cker (more on that in another post...  :-)

My calendar is full, but with joyful activities and interactions, and I'm trying to create white space for breathing and introspection as well.  Who the h*ll am I without a job, a concert series, social media?!?  Stay tuned.

Thunder rolls in the distance and, if it does start storming, I'll probably make a cup of lemon ginger tea, with a swirl of honey, and go out to my lounge chair on the balcony to listen and smell the agitating air.  Feels like my heart, or the backs of my legs when the sciatica hits.  Electricity.  Shocking.  Awareness.


SONG:  Starting Over by We're About 9

BOOK:  The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have by Mark Nepo

POEM:  Burning the Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye

Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.

So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.

Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.

Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.

QUOTE:  “And now we welcome the new year, full of things that have never been." ~ Rainer Maria Rilke

We'll All Meet Up Next Year (A New Year's Song) - (Deirdre Flint)

Today's TUT... A Note from the Universe:

Susan, soon the new year starts, so now's a great time to:

1. Wipe the slate clean.
2. Focus upon what you really want.
3. Chart your course.

Right?

Well... only if you want to risk having to repeat these steps for the same wishes next year! Maybe this is splitting hairs, but here's an adventurous alternative:

1. Give thanks that life is... just as it is (and that it's been... just as it's been). Because of it, you're now "READY."

2. Define what you want in terms of the end result. Don't worry about the hows, or even the course. KNOW that what you want is ALREADY yours in spirit, by divine LAW, just focus on the certainty of this ownership, understand it, claim it, and "it will be on earth, as it is in heaven (spirit)."

3. LET THE UNIVERSE show you the way via your impulses and instincts that appear as you take inspired action. Don't worry that your first steps seem silly or futile. And if you don't know what to do, do anything! Go! Get busy! Do not insist on intermediary successes, only upon the end result.

2011 is going to be your year (it already is),
The Universe

It starts now, Susan! This is your year! Happy beginning of something GREAT!!!

You really are READY Susan. And your self-confidence in my intuition and wisdom is ready for you.

Don't f*cking faint! - after taking 5 months off (for erratic behavior), I have now written and uploaded three posts in as many consecutive days. No promises... but the future bodes bright - pass the shades... :-)

So... as has become my custom each January 1, I subscribe to Christine Kane's Word of the Year concept - the last month I've experienced strong and intentional vibes and was gifted with a *Phrase* of the Year - Let. It. Go. (which is similar to my Release of a few years back, but somehow different). I will not explain but I know why I chose it and how I'll apply it - I will say that it relates to #2 of The Four Agreements (on my right sidebar)... and let it go (see... already putting it into practice) at that!

We hosted a lovely and fun Open House today with friends, family and neighbors - I am exhausted yet full... mimosas segueing to coffee interspersed with healthy spinach dip, raw veggies and a few bites of cookie...

SONG: We'll All Meet Up Next Year (A New Year's Song) by Deirdre Flint

Time to Let Go by Cary Cooper (Cary just wrote this song a few days ago and posted it on her Facebook page - given the synchronicity, I had to include... :-)

BOOK: Writing Down Your Soul: How to Activate and Listen to the Extraordinary Voice Within by Janet Conner

POEM: begin here by Maya Stein

When the last seat is taken,
or the key has trapped in the lock,
when the rain has eviscerated your garden,
or your words have run out one by one.
When the packing is half-finished, or traffic
keeps you from your purpose,
when the bright white of your day
has paled and pixilated.
When the grocery bag rips coming up the stairs,
when the telephone bill shocks
and then flounders you,
when love has flown off course,
when your nails are ragged and wanton,
when the runway is slick and the sky sodden.
When the ache for something nameless
fans out into your bones,
when you are hungry, or lost or in need of a hand
across your eyelashes.
When it’s deadline or dilemma
or just you tripping on the stained carpet of your trouble,
begin here.

Place one leaden, obstinate foot
where you can see it.
Gather your maniacal breath,
your little windbags of lungs.
Eye only the square of sidewalk a blink away,
that quadrant of concrete mottled with the dirty
evidence of living,
and go.

When the manual for what’s broken
has been misplaced, when the view is obscured
by a restless construction site,
when your closet is an echo of castoffs.
When the bridge toll climbs and the road
down the mountain is pummeled with snow,
when your face bears little resemblance
to the person you remember,
when the field is populated with abler bodies,
when poems have been written by nimbler souls,
when no amount of squinting
delivers oasis, begin here.

Guide your defeated arms
into a small fit of swinging.
Coerce your hips into the barest
shimmy. Locate the pocket of a single,
deserted minute, its hum of insignificance,
and go.

When cheer cannot cheer you,
when crumbs cannot feed you,
when the storage space in the garage
topples from the weight.
When beauty eludes you,
when the weatherman confirms your fear,
when the doctor bears his wild news.
When you return to the bad habit,
when the current continues its brutal tackle,
when mess is your middle name,
begin here.

Climb onto your weary haunches. Lift your belly
from its mattress cave. Initiate the wholly
unremarkable act of breathing, and go.

When you have had enough.
When you have had too much.
When your fortress has not kept away the enemy,
and the walls are an abscess of rubble.
Do not fling yourself from the gangplank.
Do not hasten your disappearance
with your own cruelty.
Do not mask your ferocity with a collage of good manners.

The death’s door of your failure
is still a door.
Wrap your shaking fist around the handle.
Hear the cricket click of the latch.
And begin.

QUOTE: “There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” ~ Louis L’Amour

We Traveled So Far (Mary Chapin Carpenter)

Thanks again to all who never gave up on me these last five months, whether by active cheerleading or supportive patience - lots of reading and pondering has convinced me it's not about the "trying" but about the "being"... so I will try (ha!) to *be* more accepting of myself, in whatever form, in the future...

Time did march on since mid-July (my last wrenching post) and below is a recap of the "life before my eyes" in that abyss of emotional floundering - I would like to say I feel better now... and I do... but I also am more prepared to handle the ups and downs of the journey. Mixed Nuts, a really lame movie we watched Christmas Day with the exception of some amazing character actors (Madeline Kahn among them), had a great piece of dialogue:

"Just remember that in every pothole there is hope. Well, you see, pothole is spelled P-O-T-H-O-L-E. So if you take the P, and add it to the H, the O, and the E, and rearrange the letters... or contrariwise, you remove the O, T, and the L, you get "hope". So, just remember, in every pothole there is hope!"

:-)

Amen and blessed be - so... Top Ten Past Events, Good and Bad, to Close Out 2010:

10. I did go to Falcon Ridge this July, as I missed the 2009 festival due to Mom's illness/passing - it was amazing to reconnect with friends and music I only experience in person once a year, but are with my cyberly daily...

9. August 5 brought my 56th birthday - I can't even remember what I did, but I do recall telling everyone I didn't need presents, as I really already had everything I wanted...

8. After putting Mom's house on the market mid-April, we signed it over to buyers late-August - closure is always bittersweet and, sad as it is to think we've metaphorically and literally closed that door, we've also moved forward with our lives while keeping the memories...

7. My sister hosted a what-would-have-been-Mom’s-80th-birthday party in mid-September, attended by new and old neighbors as well as other friends - more bittersweetness ensued, as we celebrated someone who always celebrated life...

6. I experienced a personal and professional dream-come-true as I hosted the amazing Dar Williams in early-October at the concert series I've coordinated for the last six years - the evening was a success on so many levels (musical, emotional, financial) and I am beyond blessed. Photo of commemorative tattoo, a few minutes after inking, above - love and thanks to Kristyn... :-)

5. Terry, a friend from book club and the gym, discovered she had ovarian and stomach cancer, and there was only a month from diagnosis to her death on November 14 - it still doesn't seem real and she is much missed...

4. After being with his company for 25 years, the week before Thanksgiving my husband received pre-notification he's being let go in mid-February (they're outsourcing his role to another country) - rather than operating from fear, we are belt-tightening where we can but also thinking positive (along with networking his many resources) that there is something better out there for his talents and experience...

3. In mid-August, I finally got serious about a weight loss program and, as of mid-December, have lost 40 pounds - I look great, feel terrific and, after successfully maintaining through the holidays, will take off another 10 or so to get to goal as well as peace of mind...

2. For the last 10 years (since my mom's second husband was killed in a car accident in March 2000), each Christmas we have traveled to South Carolina to spend time with my husband's family and Georgia to see mine - it has been rewarding but also exhausting and expensive, and this year we made the conscious decision to stay home. We resurrected old traditions (put up a tree and over-decorated) and made new ones - we of course missed being with extended family but actively embraced the holiday in our own home for the first time in a decade...

1. Tonight we will go to a party (home by midnight to honor our champagne-in-the-jacuzzi ritual) and tomorrow finds us hosting a New Year's Day Open House - my wish for 2011 for myself and my friends: inspirational music, thought-provoking literature, heart-based camaraderie and awareness/intention to appreciate and enjoy!

SONG: We Traveled So Far by Mary Chapin Carpenter

BOOK: The Ten Things to Do When Your Life Falls Apart: An Emotional and Spiritual Handbook by Daphne Rose Kingma

POEM: crossing the border by Maya Stein

It hit her, crossing the border into Ontario. The drive from Ann Arbor
had been grey and wet, the rain coming in fat drops,
metronoming her windshield wipers. She'd settled into her seat,
like she'd done for the past 5,000 miles, reached for a stick of gum,
adjusted the radio dial, checked the battery on her cell phone.

The landscape into Windsor was flat, almost featureless,
though the bridge had been magnificent, a real piece of architecture,
the cables long and taut as ballerina legs.
But the strip malls greeted her cheerlessly,
the sky empty of welcome. She drove on, having filled up
on gas at her departure. Finally, the cornfields reappeared,
barns and silos rising out of the land again, and the first
hints of autumn announced themselves in the distant trees.

Maybe it was this particular rain, or that somehow
crossing the border had carried her even further from home,
or that the season's temporal beauty - so splashy now -
would tumble into certain bleakness and cold, but out of nowhere,
she gave the steering wheel a fresh earnest grip,
wanting to hold on to whatever it was
that was letting her go.

And yet, she realized it was time, her own muscles tired
of engaging only to leave her heart frayed so thin.
The exchange was untenable, staying rooted to a past that charmed
and even, occasionally, soothed, but no longer fed.

She had opted for the country road on her way
to the big city, but soon it became clear this wasn't a day
to get lost. The road required an oddly painful slowing. Construction
and idle drivers kept interrupting the steady pressure of her foot
against the gas pedal. The single lane made it difficult to pass.

And though she preferred these roads, their changing scenery and
unexpected finds, she saw the delay they would cost her journey,
and with reluctance, she returned to the highway's swift efficiency.

There is no easy way to cleave the heart
from loving. It does what it does impiously, inopportunely,
uncalendared and unseasoned. What she carried with her she gave
with a lack of deliberation, discretion, scurrying
to greet every opportunity to add to the pile.
But the act of filling had not made her full.

Instead, she was twitchy with worry. Emptiness and sorrow
had attached themselves to her most joyful, generous gestures.
She knew something in her was flagging, losing steam and grace.
She knew she could not puppet this theatre any longer.

The road was wide and clear. Somehow, the rain seemed less
rigorous here, and she turned off her wipers in time
to see the city rise into view, skyscrapers pushing into the clouds.
It would be a lie to say that she was healed, heart full as an udder again.
But I can tell you she was precisely where she needed to be, even
in her brokenness, and she would know where to go
from here.

QUOTE: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” ~ Theodore Roosevelt

Black Crow (Joni Mitchell)

As has been my tradition, I have chosen and unveiled a Word of the Year each January 1 - some years have been more effective than others but, rather than emphasizing broad goals and resolutions, it helps me keep some sense of priority as to what I'd like to work on in my life for the next 365 days!

After much pondering, I've decided on Follow-Through as my word for 2010 - I am the first to admit that I have the best of intentions in anything I do... and come off the starting block fast and furious... only to fizzle out before the finish line. It's a combination of low energy, limited time and boundless To-Do's... but there is really no excuse for my lack of completion - I have vowed that, over the next 12 months, rather than having a million things hanging over my head, I will do my very best to deal with issues as they come to me, in a no-nonsense, "one touch", make-it-happen way...

It gets frustrating, always allowing myself to be distracted (look, something shiny!) - focus, Susan, focus... :-)

P.S. I received a phone call earlier this evening from a dear friend who, for various reasons, I have been out of contact with for the last 2+ years - it was a surprise and a joy to have an extended conversation, picking up where we left off ("in search of love and music" indeed, Joni!). He told me that a new year is meant to bring about action in some form or another - I am immensely grateful the thought extended in my direction...

SONG: Black Crow by Joni Mitchell

BOOK(S): The Follow-Through Factor: Getting from Doubt to Done by Gene C. Hayden

Find Your Focus Zone: An Effective New Plan to Defeat Distraction and Overload by Lucy Jo Palladino

POEM: The Year by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that's the burden of the year.

QUOTE: "Every new year people make resolutions to change aspects of themselves they believe are negative. A majority of people revert back to how they were before and feel like failures. This year I challenge you to a new resolution. I challenge you to just be yourself." ~ Aisha Elderwyn

[Hard] Rock Lobster (with apologies to The B-52's)

Guess where/with whom we're spending New Year's Eve? - good guess!

A history of my love for them can be found here on Star Maker Machine, the weekly-themed collaborative blog to which I contribute - I've only seen them once before live... and that was with my sister Mari about 15 years ago, when I danced so long and hard I thought I was going to have a heart attack... :-)

My daughter Sarah works at the Hard Rock Cafe and was able to get us tickets - the show doesn't even start until 10 p.m. but we'll get to the area a few hours early and have dinner at our favorite restaurant in the complex. Calamari, a Bluepoint chopped salad and a dirty martini - oh my!

We have the option of following The B-52's into the Center Bar for a New Year's Eve countdown... but that's going to be "a hot mess", according to Sarah - we'll probably just follow our regular tradition and head home to the jacuzzi to drink champagne and watch neighborhood fireworks...

Happy 2010! - may it bring us all health, peace, blessings and boundless love... <3

SONG: Rock Lobster by The B-52's (YouTube video here)

BOOK: The Totally Awesome 80s Pop Music Trivia Book by Michael-Dante Craig

POEM: At the End of the Year by John O'Donohue

The particular mind of the ocean
Filling the coastline's longing
With such brief harvest
Of elegant, vanishing waves
Is like the mind of time
Opening us shapes of days.

As this year draws to its end,
We give thanks for the gifts it brought
And how they became inlaid within
Where neither time nor tide can touch them.

The days when the veil lifted
And the soul could see delight;
When a quiver caressed the heart
In the sheer exuberance of being here.

Surprises that came awake
In forgotten corners of old fields
Where expectation seemed to have quenched.

The slow, brooding times
When all was awkward
And the wave in the mind
Pierced every sore with salt.

The darkened days that stopped
The confidence of the dawn.

Days when beloved faces shone brighter
With light from beyond themselves;
And from the granite of some secret sorrow
A stream of buried tears loosened.

We bless this year for all we learned,
For all we loved and lost
And for the quiet way it brought us
Nearer to our invisible destination.

QUOTE: "Then sing, young hearts that are full of cheer, with never a thought of sorrow; the old goes out, but the glad young year comes merrily in tomorrow." ~ Emily Miller

This Will Be Our Year (The Zombies)

What the h*ll - how about one more New Year post... before we move on to the business of living it (instead of writing about it... :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Proof

Alcohol and American Life

The New York Times

December 30, 2008
Notes on a Holiday
By The Editors

Thoughts, recollections and a satirical cocktail recipe on the year’s most alcohol-laden day, kindly offered by various Op-Extra contributors:

Suzanne Vega, Measure for Measure:

New Year’s Eve and drinking. Sometimes they go together, but not always. I have spent many austere New Years Eves alone re-reading old diaries, making resolutions and not drinking, but I will admit those are not the most fun.

The most fun was in 1989 at a party given by the band They Might be Giants in Brooklyn. Still the best New Year’s Eve party ever. Given in an apartment over a funeral parlor. I went with my sister and my then-boyfriend. We drank and danced. My boyfriend got mad and went home early. I stayed. I danced with my sister, and we stepped on the plug to the jukebox plunging the whole room into darkness and silence for a minute. What fun! Then she went home, then John Flansburg who was throwing the party went home. Then everybody else went home, and I was the last guest to leave. The sun came up gently as a car came to get me at 7 in the morning, and I said goodbye to John Linnell’s sleepy, smiling face. What a nice memory. A lovely ride home over the Brooklyn Bridge.

The second most fun was New Year’s Eve 1999. Remember Y2K? What a scam. I bought a black silk ball gown for the occasion in case the world fell apart that night. Seemed like the right thing to do. My sister and I went to my ex-boyfriend’s house (the same man that had been my boyfriend 10 years before!) and we drank a lot and danced and had a lot of fun, until I sent her flying into the radiator under the window across the room. I let go of her hand by mistake. She hasn’t danced with me since. She says it’s because I always do the Hustle and date myself. Whatever. I still remember the snowflakes softly coming down at 5 am as I caught a cab home in my ball gown.

Well, none of us drink the way we used to since we lost our brother Tim to alcoholism at the age of 36. Lately when I go out with my husband on New Year’s Eve, some of the nightlife looks scary. I watched someone who was so drunk she lay down in the crosswalk on Houston Street while her friends tried to get her on her feet before the traffic started up. I didn’t watch to see what finally happened. I suppose moderation will be the key for me for this New Year’s Eve, and that is O.K. with me.

* * *

Glenn Eichler, Proof:

Recipe: “The Blurry Zeitgeist”
3 parts Champagne
1 part vodka
1 part strawberry brandy
1 part smugness over past year’s accomplishments
1 part regret over realizing past year’s accomplishments were actually failures
1 part momentary burst of resolve followed immediately by 1 part deflating inertia
1 part nagging fear over possibility of … what was it again?
1 part self-congratulation over successfully keeping pre-New Year’s resolution to avoid marketing exec neighbor at current party
1 part cautious optimism over Obama cabinet picks
1 part bitter disappointment over Obama cabinet picks
1 part utter disbelief at Caroline Kennedy
1 part inexplicable anxiety over not remembering what earlier nagging fear was about
1 part dawning awareness that marketing exec neighbor is approaching
1 part fleeting concern over possibly forgetting to TiVo “The Biggest Loser”
1 part sinking realization that earlier nagging fear was about odds of contracting early-onset Alzheimer’s
1 part self-pity over getting stuck conversing with marketing exec neighbor
1 part self-congratulation at not being marketing exec neighbor
1 part euphoric recollection of definitely remembering to TiVo “The Biggest Loser,” thus reducing likelihood of early-onset Alzheimer’s
1 part self-loathing over TiVo full of “The Biggest Loser”
Shake well and serve with metaphysical hangover.
Happy New Year!

* * *

Jim Atkinson, Proof:

This New Year’s Eve will be the fifteenth that I will pass completely sober. I celebrate the New Year booze-free because I’ve long since quit drinking at all. But might I suggest to the majority of Americans who still do tipple — especially on New Year’s Eve — that they consider passing the last holiday of the year stone cold sober as well? After all, this is nothing if not a time for considering new paradigms, and 24 hours spent in sober reflection on — instead of Bacchanalian escape from — what we should have learned in the previous year might be just the right way to bring in the new one. Especially this year, when we need desperately to remember that while we ignored history and allowed it to repeat itself, even amidst the rubble left by the Second Coming of the Great Depression, we somehow managed to make history too, by electing an African-American president. Both are matters of sufficient import to be recalled and appreciated in the absence of stupor.

* * *

Peter Holsapple, Measure for Measure:

By the time I had moved from Los Angeles to New Orleans in 1993, probably the drinkingest city in America, my own alcohol problem was enormous. But I just thought I was having a lot of fun. The band I moved there with was a fine excuse to get together with five close friends, a case of beer, a few bottles of champagne and tequila, and make some music: New Orleans was a perfect destination to continue the party, which we did. After the band broke up, I moved upstairs from a bar I played at so the commute home wouldn’t be quite so deadly.

My charmed life went on, immersed in boozing, unchecked by concerned friends or myself, escalating exponentially until I ended up charged with D.W.I. one night on the way home from a show where I had only drunk about three glasses of red wine. I spent a night in Orleans Parish lock-up in a room with 25 of my newest friends and a drain in the middle of the floor. The humiliation was more than I could stand. I drank cautiously a few more months, slowing to a crawl, until I decided that New Years’ Eve 2001 would be the end of it.

I moved after Katrina washed my home and a lot of my past away, and I now live with my family in North Carolina, where I grew up. New Years’ Eve now means breaking out a bottle of Martinelli’s Sparkling Apple Cider and trying to stay up for the changing of the years, not always making it through, either.

Sometimes I think I miss the conviviality of hoisting a few with my fellows, but as I raise my glass nowadays, I toast the rebuilding of my shambolic life over seven years and look forward to the next 365 days, which will come at me one at a time. That, I can handle.

* * *

Darrell Brown, Measure for Measure:

I am an adult child of an alcoholic. There are a lot of us out there. I was never a drinker. My job in life was the designated driver, the designated shoulder to lean on, the designated superhero to clean up the mess whenever it was needed. I do have a very strong and benevolent shoulder I inherited from my mom.

Finally, last year before New Year’s Eve, I made the long-delayed decision to let go of a few of my dearest addict friends. I was tired of feeling like the bad guy all the time. To paraphrase the song, I didn’t have time for the pain anymore. Not in 2008. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done. It hurt. But that’s what happens when you betray your own addictive behavior — it rebels and squirms. I thought my heart would die.

A year has passed since then. I survived. I’ve healed some, and my health and sanity has returned. With this distance in place, I now feel I can again love these people who were so dear to me. I can look back with fondness and smile at the memories of most of our time together.

To another year of health.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. Thanks to Scott at Pretty Goes with Pretty (via SMM) for the heads-up on the song which prompted today's post!

SONG: This Will Be Our Year by The Zombies

BOOK: The Joy of Ritual: Spiritual Recipes to Celebrate Milestones, Ease Transitions and Make Every Day Sacred by Barbara Biziou

POEM: New Year's Day by Billy Collins

Everyone has two birthdays

according to the English essayist Charles Lamb,

the day you were born and New Year's Day--

a droll observation to mull over

as I wait for the tea water to boil in a kitchen

that is being transformed by the morning light

into one of those brilliant rooms of Matisse.

"No one ever regarded the First of January

with indifference," writes Lamb,

for unlike Groundhog Day or the feast of the

Annunciation,

this one marks nothing but the passage of time,

I realized, as I lowered a tin diving bell

of tea leaves into a little body of roiling water.

I admit to regarding my own birthday

as the joyous anniversary of my existence

probably because I was, and remain

to this day in late December, an only child.

And as an only child--

a tea-sipping, toast-nibbling only child

in a colorful room this morning--

I would welcome an extra birthday,

one more opportunity to stop what we are doing

for a moment and reflect on my being here on earth.

And one more might be a small consolation

to us all for having to face a death-day, too,

an X in a square

on some kitchen calendar of the future,

the day when each of us is thrown off the train of time

by a burly, heartless conductor

as it roars through the months and years,

party hats, candles, confetti, and horoscopes

billowing up in the turbulent storm of its wake.

QUOTE: "New Year's Day is every man's birthday." ~ Charles Lamb

Button Up Your Overcoat (DeSylva, Brown, Henderson)

Last night my husband and I did indeed go out to dinner (Kamado's, a local Chinese/Japanese restaurant... delicious) and a movie (Seven Pounds... thought-provoking) and were home by 11:45 p.m., whereupon we opened a bottle of ruby spumante and had time enough for a toast, a few sips and multiple kisses before midnight struck - we then went out on the patio (with re-filled glasses and the bottle) and proceeded to stretch out on lounge chairs and watch/listen to the (next door and across-the-street) neighborhood display of fireworks... some of them dinky (roman candles and sparklers) and some quite impressive (think Apocalypse Now!).

We had called my mom and R's stepmom earlier in the evening... and then phoned all three of our children a bit after the ball dropped - one answered and wished us a Happy New Year in return... and for the other two we left voicemails. We then retired for the evening, taking advantage of the fact everyone else was out of the house - sweeeet... :-)

We'll get the family together over here about 5 this afternoon for drinks (I have another bottle of champagne in the fridge) and appetizers (as yet to be determined) - ringing in the New Year doesn't have to take place at the stroke of midnight to be meaningful...

So... after much pondering and soul-searching and contemplation (oh my!), I've determined that my Word of the Year for 2009 is... drumroll, please... Health, in all its many definitions: physical, emotional, mental and spiritual - in this whirlwind of a life I have (which remains lovely and satisfying, despite the madness and sorrow), I've not been doing such a good job of taking care of myself (major understatement)...

In 2009, I vow to do the following to restore and maintain my Health:

Physical: take my multi-vitamins every d*mn day; walk/exercise 5 days a week (including as-soon-as-I-get-out-of-bed morning stretches); plan and stick to a sensible eating program (a Life Style Change... not a Diet!); be in the bed as close to midnight as I can possibly manage; make and follow through with all the medical (doctor and dentist) appointments I've managed to back-burner for the last mumblemumble years...

Emotional: nurture important relationships, let non-functioning ones go; say what I mean, mean what I say, and do what I say I'm going to do; trust my intuition; choose joy...

Mental: more reading for pleasure, less computer time; remember the value of setting boundaries ("just say no"); honor the value of deadlines (my own and anyone else who is depending on me); seek out and embrace challenges...

Spiritual: I actually feel pretty on-track here, fulfilled with services/community at my local UU church (where I'm the Sunday Services Committee chair, as well as the promoter/producer of our monthly folk/acoustic concert series) - however, I would also like to make space each day for meditating/quiet time (something I always mean to do, but never seem to make happen); my new mantra (gleaned from a 2009 Live with Intention calendar I bought for myself a few months ago)... "Expect this to be a day of healing, awareness, harmony and gentle order." ~ Naomi C. Rose...

I am only 54 and should have a few more decades ahead of me (barring unforeseen circumstances), if I can be pro-active about my health, rather than allowing it to come last in every list of priorities I've ever made - this will take faith and desire... but it will also require discipline and focus...

I'm a Leo, for god's sake - Just Do It, Susan!

SONG: Button Up Your Overcoat by DeSylva, Brown, Henderson

BOOK: This is YOUR New Year's Resolution!: A 12 Month Health Mastery Program by D Tim Labelle

POEM: New Year's Morning by Helen Hunt Jackson

Only a night from old to new!
Only a night, and so much wrought!
The Old Year's heart all weary grew,
But said: The New Year rest has brought."
The Old Year's hopes its heart laid down,
As in a grave; but trusting, said:
"The blossoms of the New Year's crown
Bloom from the ashes of the dead."

The Old Year's heart was full of greed;
With selfishness it longed and ached,
And cried: "I have not half I need.
My thirst is bitter and unslaked.
But to the New Year's generous hand
All gifts in plenty shall return;
True love it shall understand;
By all my failures it shall learn.
I have been reckless; it shall be
Quiet and calm and pure of life.
I was a slave; it shall go free,
And find sweet pace where I leave strife."

Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.

Always a night from old to new!
Night and the healing balm of sleep!
Each morn is New Year's morn come true,
Morn of a festival to keep.
All nights are sacred nights to make
Confession and resolve and prayer;
All days are sacred days to wake
New gladness in the sunny air.
Only a night from old to new;
Only a sleep from night to morn.
The new is but the old come true;
Each sunrise sees a new year born.

QUOTE: "Every man should be born again on the first day of January. Start with a fresh page. Take up one hole more in the buckle if necessary, or let down one, according to circumstances; but on the first of January let every man gird himself once more, with his face to the front, and take no interest in the things that were and are past." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

"When the heart is at ease, the body is healthy." ~ Chinese Proverb

Let's Start the New Year Right (Bing Crosby)

For 2009, A Happiness Action Plan
Dr. Sandra R. Scantling
December 28, 2008

Every New Year's Eve, as the clock ticks its remaining few seconds and the ball in Times Square begins its descent, I feel excitement and trepidation. It doesn't seem to matter where I happen to be celebrating. Be it a big party or quietly at home with my husband (and Dick Clark, of course), my reactions are the same.

Like so many others, when the final countdown begins, I want to "be there" to witness the birth of the New Year. At that instant, at the juxtaposition of old and new, I feel compelled to hold on, to pay special attention, as a voice inside whispers: "This is it ... this is all there will be in 2008. The record is sealed."

Amid the joy and celebration, there is a solemnity as I reflect on my personal responsibilities and wonder, "What will the coming year bring? What is my role in making it a happy year?"

Aristotle said: "Happiness is the meaning and purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence." It is one of the most often wished for, most frequently written about and most poorly understood experience. There are thousands of texts on the subject, from the wise to the mundane, from spiritual guidance to self-help — but happiness still often eludes us.

Although I'm a sex therapist, most couples come to see me because they'd like to be happier. They know this can't be all there is in life. Arguing and work. Where's the joy? Where's the passion? they ask.

As they look across my office at their partner and make blaming statements, like "you never tell me you love me any more" or "you always wait for me to initiate sex," they ignore the hurt looks that result. Each party feels slighted and often defensive. Even if they sound like they're taking responsibility — "Yes, I admit it, I'm not a very expressive person, but I've always been this way ... " — it sometimes comes out as justification for their behavior. And, in case you haven't noticed, nagging, complaining or finger pointing only builds resentment and hostility. I've never heard a patient say, "I finally decided to change because my partner yelled at me in a convincing enough way."

So I can hear you asking, "What am I supposed to do? I deserve to be happy."

Yes you do. So why aren't you? Who is responsible for your happiness?

Perhaps you are the person stopping yourself from being happy. How do you feel when you think about acting differently to achieve happiness? Maybe you're annoyed at the suggestion of changing, a case of "Here we go again; I have to do it all. If only he wasn't so cold, selfish, controlling (fill in the adjectives), things would be fine." I can guarantee he's thinking the same thing.

This is a fruitless struggle that leaves both partners exhausted. No wonder you're tired and don't have any energy left to make love.

The New Year is the perfect time to experiment — when the calendar resets, we're given a chance for a "do-over." Instead of making the usual resolutions, create a happiness action plan. Then follow through. Find where happiness is present in your lives, and do more of it. Remember something you're grateful for in your partner that you haven't acknowledged. Then tell them. Laugh and smile more often.

As this challenging year comes to a close, and we make our personal wishes for health, peace, prosperity and happiness, it's comforting to know that people all over the globe are wishing for the same things. As Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."

Happy New Year!

My husband and I are keeping it fairly low-key tonight - although we've had at least three invitations to various get-togethers, we're probably going to a movie and then home to drink champagne in the jacuzzi. Can't help but feel somber about my mom and Vic, two people who have lived their lives fully but are now struggling - I know they'd advocate Carpe Diem (and I'll do that tomorrow, I promise), but tonight solitude and close companionship seems more appropriate...

P.S. Over at Star Maker Machine, we're paying tribute to musicians who have passed on in 2008 (my contribution can be found here) - condolences and blessings to all who left us throughout the year...

SONG: Let's Start the New Year Right as sung by Bing Crosby (written by Irving Berlin for the movie Holiday Inn)

BOOK: The New Year by Pearl S. Buck

POEM: If I Had My Life to Live Over by Nadine Stair (85 years old)

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax, I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.

I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles,
but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I'm one of those people who live
sensibly and sanely hour after hour,
day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments,
And if I had it to do over again,
I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after another,
instead of living so many years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those people who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.
If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live over,
I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.

QUOTE: “The chains of habit are generally too small to be felt until they are too strong to be broken.” ~ Samuel Johnson