Keeping the Light On (Joy Oladokun)

First of all, if you haven't seen tonight's Full Moon, go go go outside *now* to view!  Also, I am making Moon Water, even as I type... 🌕

Chico and I watched Love Actually Friday night, for the first time this season (finally!).

Saturday was Garden Day and, after posting my "report"... as is my custom, I went off the grid for 48-ish hours.  On Christmas Eve Day (Sunday), we met up with Sarah and Colin to watch Migration in the movie theater (3D!), and then to Sarah's to enjoy subs for dinner and a bit of hangtime with Colin before he left out cookies (which we made!) and milk for Santa/apples for the reindeer, then headed home.

I was very much dreading Christmas Day (Monday) with the family but, thanks to our love and patience with each other, I was surrounded by peace and even glimmers of joy.  From the fab brunch (each item more yummy than the next)... to the perfect presents (Rob's rose-colored glasses for everyone won Christmas!)... to Colin taking great delight in helping open *our* presents too before he left to go to his Dad's for the rest of the day... to a very sweet conversation about E (all the emotions)... to Scrabble (Sarah, who balked at playing, ended up in second place, only 1 point behind Rob; I, who normally kicks everyone's *ss💥💥💥 (see below), had vowels throughout 2/3 of the game and couldn't manage to catch up)... to the Taylor Swift Eras movie in the background... to Chinese food for dinner... it was a beautiful day from start to finish.  Naturally Colin brightened things up and there was much laughter.  

Also, Sarah found this Acoustic Christmas Spotify playlist, which we listened to all day and, honestly, I may continue into 2024.  Beautiful... 💖

Late last night (still Christmas), I sipped on a mug of decaf coffee infused with a hot cocoa bomb and marshmallows and felt... dare I say... content?  We *are* an amazing family.  I love them so much, and am very proud of us all for navigating this difficult journey.  Today marks three months since Eric died.  We made it through our second First without E.  In this morning's MossFam text thread, Sarah called it "a surprisingly peaceful day"... ॐ

Hoping you and yours experienced much love, as well as the perfect balance of celebration and comfort... 🥳🕉 

💥💥💥Part of our family conversation yesterday touched on my competitive nature (which only rears its ugly head during board games); Sarah described my style throughout the decades:  "the b*tch has never rolled over"... 🤣

SONG:  Keeping the Light On by Joy Oladokun

BOOK:  Surviving the Holidays Without You: Navigating Grief During Special Seasons by Gary Roe

POEM(S):  

Not knowing when

the dawn will come

I open every

door.

~ Emily Dickinson

What is born in you this day? by Beth Weaver-Kreider

What 

Yulelight

Candlelight

Christlight

Heartlight

Moonlight 

will shine forth from your eyes

from the tips of your fingers

from the well of your heart

from the root of your soul

to bless the world today?

May you know the light

feel the light

bear the light

be the light.

I Heard a Bird Sing by Oliver Herford

I heard a bird sing

In the dark of December.

A magical thing

And sweet to remember.

"We are nearer to Spring 

Than we were in September,” 

I heard a bird sing 

In the dark of December. 

Let This Darkness Be a Bell Tower by Rainer Maria Rilke

Quiet friend who has come so far,

feel how your breathing makes more space around you.

Let this darkness be a bell tower

and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.

Move back and forth into the change.

What is it like, such intensity of pain?

If the drink is bitter, turn yourself to wine.

In this uncontainable night,

be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,

the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,

say to the silent earth: I flow.

To the rushing water, speak: I am.

Peace Enters My Heart by Maureen Kwiat Meshenberg

peace enters my heart,

though I have touched-

the chaos of my living,

it sometimes wears-

on my soul,

I settle inside,

the sanctuary

of the season,

it clothes me in rest-

I am tethered to the stars,

that rest their light on-

a winters night,

I rise with the light-

of a thousand suns,

settling on my memory-

with bright exultation, 

I come to greet the day,

with tenderness of love-

reaching inside,

this quiet-

silent night morning- 

let it move from me,

songs that echo-

from the angels singing,

peace on earth,

peace on earth,

goodwill to men-

to all of humanity,

to all creatures-

settling in sacred rest,  

it is from my heart-

a beginning is birthed,

I reach-

and take your hand,

we enter into-

our holy place,

of comfort and love-

of forgiving grace,

towards ourselves-

towards the world,

for what abides with me-

this morning of brilliant becoming,

is our constant-

our shining that guides us,

even in our darkest of times. 

QUOTE(S):  “To comfort a grieving friend, just say anything; it doesn’t have to be perfect. Grief can feel very lonely (like the poem ‘Stop All the Clocks’), so it’s very comforting when a friend recognizes your loss and what a big deal it is. Instead of platitudes (‘everything happens for a reason’), just say something that feels authentic, even if it’s just ‘I wish I knew what to say,’ or ‘I love you, and this really sucks.’” ~ Lucy Kalanithi

"Although our loved ones may not be around, their spirit lives on in every joyful moment we share during the Christmas season." ~ Unknown 

Family (by Pierce Pettis, covered by Dar Williams)

Thanks again for everyone's continued patience with me.  Maybe I'll just blather here for a while and, if you feel like commenting, that's great... but, whatever...

There are no good days, although there may be bright spots in an otherwise awful day.  Just about everything makes me cry.  Anything can remind me of Eric, in a random moment, sometimes unexplainable, and I just can't hold it in... nor do I want to.  At first I thought there were a finite number of tears and I would cry myself out, but it's become apparent they are unlimited, a bottomless well.  

It's awful that we are still dealing with logistical issues (believe it or not, we only *just* received the death certificates today), which means I have multiple people/businesses to mail them to.

Yes to countless ups and downs but... Nothing. Like. This.  This is big.  This is incomprehensible.  This is ongoing.  This is forever.  The part of my life that is Not Eric is detritus.  I do not care.  I cannot think about anything else right now.  I'm still not reading.  TV holds no interest for me.  Food seesaws between styrofoam and a means to keep me from blood sugar drops.  I cannot concentrate on anything.  My vocabulary/memory is all but gone.  

I am angry.  I am taking everything personally.  I am still in Denial... yet, when I read the Accident Report or the funeral home invoice, it is In-My-Face Real.  

Chico and I went looking for, and found, a box of DVDs of moments captured when we finally got a camcorder (Winter 2001; we were very late to the game).  We stopped time earlier today and watched a few (they're each about an hour), and we laughed and cried at the family dynamic, mostly our road trips to Atlanta, etc. for the Christmas holidays, another with all the kids' Santa visits spliced together (Perimeter Mall; thanks, Aunt Mari!).  Chico filmed my *ss a lot (ha!), but the footage of the kids is priceless.  We have decided we will take a few to my sister's house for Thanksgiving.  Healing or hurting?  Both/And.

I am currently trying to find the fine line between tiptoeing-out-into-the-world adventurer and nightgowned-and-fuzzy-socked hermit.  Sarah and I did make it to Rob's roommate's Halloween party last night and I basically wanted to leave as soon as I got there.  The music was too loud, the menu was meat-centric, and most people got very drunk very quickly.  Wearing my Mother Nature costume (the idea borrowed from Roxanne a bazillion years ago) for the first time in a while, I felt pretty (it's amazing what some lip gloss will do)... but I also felt as if I was having an out-of-body experience rather than being in-the-moment.

I am trying so hard to be Present; the Past leaves me stuck at the September 26 8:30 p.m. Line of Demarcation when E's proverbial David Copperfield tablecloth is yanked out from under the dishes... and the Future will forever be missing a chess piece that I took for granted would always be there (yep, mixed metaphors).

I need to say his name.  I say it a lot, because it keeps him front-and-center in my heart and mind.  Thanksgiving will be unbearable.  I believe December will be easier because 2022 was his first Christmas*not* with us, because Eric spent it with Duyen's family in a North Carolina cabin.  

So, I'm really just a mess masquerading as a wife/mother/family member/friend/citizen of the world; I speak in soliloquys of heaving sobs and brain blips, reading messages into random occurrences that may not mean anything, but that I'm desperate to believe (rainbows and owls and synchronistic songs, oh my).

How does this happen?  Why did this happen?  (rhetorical questions both).  Walking and breathing and speaking will be a conscious effort for a very long time... 😖

SONG:  Family by Pierce Pettis (covered by Dar Williams)

BOOK:  I Wasn't Ready to Say Goodbye: Surviving, Coping and Healing After the Sudden Death of a Loved One by Brook Noel, Pamela D Blair PhD

POEM(S):  Watching My Friend Pretend Her Heart Isn’t Breaking by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star

would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons.

The equivalent weight of how much railway

it would take to get a third of the way to the sun.

It’s the collective weight of every animal

on earth. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible

until I consider how it is to swallow grief—

just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed

a neutron star. How dense it is,

how it carries inside it the memory of collapse.

How difficult it is to move then.

How impossible to believe that anything

could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other

with great tenderness. One is

the sheer miracle that we are here together

on a planet surrounded by dying stars.

One is that we cannot see what

anyone else has swallowed.

Helium by Rudy Francisco

When people ask how I’m doing I want to say, 

my depression is an angry deity, 

a jealous god 

a thirsty shadow that wrings my joy like a dishrag 

and makes juice out of my smile. 

I want to say, getting out of bed has become a magic trick. 

I am probably the worst magician I know. 

I want to say, this sadness is the only clean shirt I have left 

and my washing machine has been broken for months, 

but I’d rather not ruin someone’s day with my tragic honesty 

so instead I treat my face like a pumpkin. 

I pretend that it’s Halloween. 

I carve it into something acceptable. 

I laugh and I say, “I’m doing alright.”

QUOTE(S):  "Sometimes, carrying on, just carrying on, is the superhuman achievement." ~ Albert Camus

"Forevers are composed of nows." ~ Emily Dickinson

“It is indeed a radical act of love just to sit down and be quiet for a time by yourself.” ~ Jon Kabat-Zinn

My Friends/Arrival (Dar Williams)

[Eric is in the back row, holding a red Solo cup, something blue around his neck, surrounded by his amazing peeps... 🙈🙉🙊]

Yes, it's earlier than I usually post.  I might actually get in the bed before midnight.  What a concept, right?  I am tired... drained... empty.  I have been doing my very best to be present for Eric throughout this process, but it's so incredibly exhausting.

The peopling continues, as I slowly let in those who have allowed me to keep my distance for the last two weeks.  Today was Laurie... long-time friend, singer-songwriter, confidante.  She and her partner Dana have been out west for most of the summer, and are now traveling home.  They will be performing at a house concert the evening of E's Celebration of Life, and I love the idea there will be music in Texas as well as here in Florida to honor my boy (if she had been home in time, I would have asked her to sing for the service).  

Tonight was my book club meeting and, because it takes place over Zoom, I thought I could... but I couldn't.  I am beyond grateful for everyone's love, support, virtual hugs, real hugs, GoFundMe donations, purple candle intentions, texts, e-mails, condolence cards, and whatever else my brain fog has inadvertently forgotten.  I know they (you) have been there for me as soon as they (you) heard about Eric's passing, and everyone will continue to be.  And the beat goes on.  Except it doesn't.  Not for a while.

We have a convergence of out-of-town family and friends starting tomorrow with Linda and Craig's arrival and continuing through Sunday (a poolside gathering Friday night, E's Celebration of Life Saturday, brunch at sweet Nancy's on Sunday)... and my dear college roommate Linda (who lives in Pensacola) will stick around through Wednesday, which will be comforting.

I really am the luckiest person on the planet to have such an incredibly wide and deep support system... 💗

"But they're waiting just the same

With their flashlights and their semaphores

And I'll act like I have faith and like that faith never ends

But I really just have friends..." ~ Dar Williams, My Friends

"And in the laughing times we know that we are lucky

And in the quiet times we know that we are blessed

And we will not be alone..." ~ Dar Williams, Arrival

SONG:  My Friends by Dar Williams (covered by Kirsten Maxwell)*** / Arrival by Dar Williams

BOOK:  Lost in Translation: A Collection of Recorded Poems and Emotions by Astrora

POEM:  Praise by Kelli Russell Agodon

Find me wild about stir-fry, about red velvet

sofas and the people who sleep inside books

and dream about commas. We are flooded

with forgetfulness, with fallen plum blossoms

misspelling our names on the driveway. Praise

our too many expectations, how we overestimate

the weather, each other, overestimate how deer

will appear if we arrive with food. Because reality

can be a knife, we sometimes ache to tear open

the tea bag, the ketchup packet, because wine

arrives ready to be poured, we are foolish

and happy—though our clothes do not fit,

we return to being alive and living

between roadblocks and detours, driving

our fingers into the edge of each other’s

pockets. Praise the bare trees that tried

to spell our names for their belief

they could—spells and misspellings,

fail and fail better, how lucky we are

just to be here, both of us touching each other

through these words, with all this exasperating joy. 

QUOTE:  "I am out with lanterns looking for myself." ~ Emily Dickinson


***when you click on the link, read the comments and you will see the absolute synchronicity of this cover... 💖

Volcano (Jimmy Buffett)

Last night Sarah and her five-year-old son were watching Floor Is Lava, "a game show in which contestants strive to reach a goal while traversing booby-trapped rooms filled with "lava", and Colin yelled out, "There's Uncle Eric!"... and she had to call me right away and share the pics she snapped from her TV to my phone... and d*mn if he's not right.  The guy on the blocK looks *so* much like E.  What a big fat f*cking metaphor... 🌋

It was a hugely productive day, as well as a wrenching one. I know I compared this process to Candyland in a previous post, but the experience also conjures Whack-A-Mole and Dominoes as well as the children's book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie (see BOOK: below).  Every line item you pursue has a possible answer, followed by one or more questions.  Ripple Effect on steroids.  My phone is like a convenience store... DING DING DING DING DING, all well-intentioned... but multi-tasking is not my strong suit and I feel as if I'm doing many things badly, rather than one thing at a time to completion.

Hey, there are wedding planners; how about funeral planners?  The amount of details that have to be attended to are overwhelming, exhausting, and never-ending... especially when the next of kin (us) are in a different state from where the accident occurred.  

I was actually going to make a List of everything we've dealt with (and still have to) but... nah.  I think it will just make me more anxious than I already am (and I do not think of myself as an anxious person).  So... I'll continue with Get 'Er Done Mode.

Everything is fucking automated; just let me speak to a real person, please!

And... I have come to the conclusion that Eric's tendency to "make everything harder than it has to be" was inherited from my husband... 😏

Okay, here are some positives:

Even in my 1170 sq. ft. condo, I have been getting in my steps (ha!); all the walking back and forth between where I have set up "a command post" in the guest room/office... and Chico, who is ensconced in our bedroom, equally hard at work with phone calls, e-mails, and texts... as we traipse up and down the hallway, asking for clarification, editing, opinions (define Casual Attire; really, sweetie?!?)

I would venture to say that every one of the professionals we've dealt with so far have been comprehensive as well as compassionate... from Officer Z at the police department, to Angie at the insurance company, to William at the funeral home.  My default for the last week has been Gratitude.  These people are, for the moment, softening the sharp edges of my pain so I can move forward.

I, one of those Live to Eat people, have completely lost my appetite.  I pendulum from can't-even-think-about-putting-anything-in-my-mouth  to a 3 p.m. "oh my god, I am starving, my blood sugar is dropping, I need sustenance ASAP" meltdown.  Again, thanks to those who have delivered food such that we have a full pantry/fridge/freezer and I can grab something quickly that I know is also going to be healthy.

Today a box filled with various types of Yogi teas arrived at my front door, no note inside, but of course it had to be from my Caring Community... literally... 🤗

More baby steps which, I responded to a commenter, might have to be my next tattoo... 👣👣👣

SONG:  Volcano by Jimmy Buffett

BOOK:  If You Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Numeroff, Felicia Bond (Illustrator)

POEM:  A still — Volcano — Life — by Emily Dickinson

A still — Volcano — Life —

That flickered in the night —

When it was dark enough to do

Without erasing sight —

A quiet — Earthquake Style —

Too subtle to suspect

By natures this side Naples —

The North cannot detect

The Solemn — Torrid — Symbol —

The lips that never lie —

Whose hissing Corals part — and shut —

And Cities — ooze away —

QUOTE:  “None of us is getting out of here alive, so please stop treating yourself like an afterthought. Eat the delicious food. Walk in the sunshine. Jump in the ocean. Say the truth you’re carrying in your heart like hidden treasure. Be silly. Be kind. Be weird. There’s no time for anything else.” ~ Nanea Hoffman

Embroidery Stars (Carrie Elkin)

Well, the best part of Feel Good Friday (today!) is that the condo complex pools reopened this past Monday, and I enjoyed it thoroughly yesterday afternoon, from 5:00 to 7:30 p.m., swimming/exercising in the water, sunning, reading.  I was the only one down there for the first hour, then my husband joined me, then another couple came, and sat at the opposite end of the patio. It had been a month, and I will never take the privilege for granted again.  Delightful!  Limitations (completely understood) are:

Pool decks and pools are to be used only by Hollybrook residents. The number of people allowed in the pool at one time must be 50 percent of normal capacity, which comes to 12 residents allowed on the pool deck at any time; only 6 residents in the swimming pool at any time. Everyone at the pools, unless they are residents of the same household, must follow the CDC's 6-foot social distancing requirement. 

Swimming sessions at each pool are: 
9 a.m. - noon
1 p.m. - 4 p.m.
5 p.m. - 8 p.m.
Every hour in between will be used to sanitize pool furniture and equipment.


So, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy your weekend!  According to my Weatherbug app, we are in for seven straight days of rain, starting Saturday, so I will head down to the pool again later today...  :-)


~ Another livestreamed concert with Danny Schmidt and Carrie Elkin:  Saturday (tomorrow!), May 9th at 2 p.m. CDT (that's 8 p.m. in the UK). Mark your calendars and come join in the festivities. The first one we did was a really lovely gathering of our community, and it felt really good to "be" with everyone in this way. Let's do it again!


~ View From My Window:  Facebook group offers 'window views' for millions during COVID-19.  While a global pandemic forces most of us to stay at home, the Facebook group View from My Window allows millions of its members to virtually travel the world. (SusanP sent the link to NancyW, who told me about it.  Thanks, friends!)


~ Mattel launches action figure line to honor and support coronavirus frontline workers:  Toy maker Mattel is “playing it forward” to coronavirus frontline workers with a new line of action figures and Little People Community Champions.  The #ThankYouHeroes collection features 16 action figures including nurses, doctors, emergency medical technicians and delivery drivers, the release said. The five-piece Little People set includes a nurse, doctor, EMT, delivery driver and grocery store worker.


~ Special occasion in quarantine? This party truck has a ‘drive-by happiness experience’:  Zombie Ice has created “A Drive By Bday Experience.”  “Bummed because your plans were put on hold by the lockdown!?” reads the ad on its Facebook page. “We can bring back a bit of joy to your day and make it safe for everyone!”  The $45 experience includes six shaved ices, a video with pictures clients send of the child; festive snow shooting from the professionally sanitized truck for the partygoers to play in. There’s even a boomerang photo booth. Touch-free, of course.


~ COVID-19 forces 5 South Florida LGBTQ pride festivals to create a ‘Virtual Pride’ event:  In 2019, hundreds of thousands of celebrants packed five LGBTQ pride celebrations from Lake Worth Beach to Calle Ocho.  This year, though, the coronavirus struck just before South Florida’s pride season got underway — forcing cancellation or postponement of four major festivals, including the region’s two biggest in Miami Beach and Fort Lauderdale.  In a moment of camaraderie that has surprised the organizers themselves of the five nonprofit pride festivals, they have formed a collective that will present an online “Virtual Pride” festival Saturday and Sunday. 



SONG:  Embroidery Stars by Carrie Elkin

BOOK:  Factfulness: Ten Reasons We're Wrong About the World - and Why Things Are Better Than You Think by Hans Rosling, Anna Rosling Rönnlund, Ola Rosling

POEM:  Around Us by Marvin Bell

We need some pines to assuage the darkness
when it blankets the mind,
we need a silvery stream that banks as smoothly
as a plane's wing, and a worn bed of
needles to pad the rumble that fills the mind,
and a blur or two of a wild thing
that sees and is not seen. We need these things
between appointments, after work,
and, if we keep them, then someone someday
lying down after a walk
and supper, with the fire hole wet down,
the whole night sky set a particular
time, without numbers or hours, will cause
a little sound of thanks--a zipper or a snap--
to close round the moment and the thought
of whatever good we did.

QUOTE:  "To live is so startling, it leaves little time for anything else." ~ Emily Dickinson

It's Delovely (Cole Porter)

I just can't say enough good things about The Miami Book Fair.  I always knew it was *there*, but I never really took advantage of it until about five years ago.  Now it's chiseled in stone on my life calendar every mid-November.  Thanks to Judi for my virgin experience (she showed me the proverbial ropes!), which helped me push past my fear of the unknown such that I have the courage to continue (even solo, if necessary, which has sometimes been the case).

They always have a great line-up of familiar names, and I've had the satisfaction of checking off some Bucket List authors (Ann Patchett, Billy Collins, Joy Harjo, Mark Doty, and more) as well as the surprise of new discoveries.  When I was still working, I kept my car radio on WLRN, the local NPR station, where I received my news as well as my culture (book and music reviews).  On the way home one afternoon, an interview with Ross Gay aired (about the below book) and I could not wait to get home and order it.  Imagine my pleasure when he was on a panel at the 2019 MBF, and my validation that he was just as delightful in person.  I brought my book from home, which he autographed for me:  "To Susan - In Joy Together!".  I will never forget his open face, and his warm demeanor.


SONG:  It's Delovely (Cole Porter)

BOOK:  The Book of Delights: Essays by Ross Gay

POEM:  The Delight Song of Tsoai-talee by N. Scott Momaday

I am a feather on the bright sky
I am the blue horse that runs in the plain
I am the fish that rolls, shining, in the water
I am the shadow that follows a child
I am the evening light, the lustre of meadows
I am an eagle playing with the wind
I am a cluster of bright beads
I am the farthest star
I am the cold of dawn
I am the roaring of the rain
I am the glitter on the crust of the snow
I am the long track of the moon in a lake
I am a flame of four colors
I am a deer standing away in the dusk
I am a field of sumac and the pomme blanche
I am an angle of geese in the winter sky
I am the hunger of a young wolf
I am the whole dream of these things

You see, I am alive, I am alive
I stand in good relation to the earth
I stand in good relation to the gods
I stand in good relation to all that is beautiful
I stand in good relation to the daughter of Tsen-tainte
You see, I am alive, I am alive

QUOTE:  "Once we believe in ourselves, we can risk curiosity, wonder, spontaneous delight, or any experience that reveals the human spirit." ~ e. e. cummings

I Scare Myself (Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks)

In yesterday's post, I mentioned clearing part of someone else's clutter over the weekend - I was horrified (internally, of course) at the stacks and stacks of paper, on every available surface throughout her home (floors/countertops/tables). I wondered how in the world she got anything done... did she even know what each pile contained?... would she be able to find something if she really needed it? - I realized I might as well be talking about myself... and I didn't want to think I could end up in the same situation... with someone coming into my home to help and then confronted with their own inner judgement as to the condition/chaos...

It's now time to tackle my personal albatrosses, which aren't nearly as bad as my friend's (at least I don't think so), but are still weighing on me, keeping me stuck and holding me back from moving forward with my life - my home office has become a dumping ground, my dining room table is now a desk and... let's not even talk about my car (which is really a traveling closet these days... :-)

Last week, when my caregiving situation... merged with the topic of an Oprah show... surged with a DailyOm article... converged with the following Christine Kane e-newsletter essay, I knew I had to pay attention (i.e. purge) - heard the old joke?: "God said... look, I sent you a raft and a boat and a plane". Wake-up call!

Just like my self-care regimen, I plan to do this incrementally - it's easy to become overwhelmed when one feels one has an entire house to tackle. However, one pile/drawer/closet at a time is manageable - between my preschool teaching and parenting experience, I always advocated that each item should have a home, making it easier to put back where it belongs when you're through with it... and now I need to get serious about following my own advice... :-)

I love my home (I term my decor "early eclectic"), filled with warm wood, unique artwork and a diversity of ceramics, discriminatingly and lovingly chosen over the years to showcase and reflect our tastes and passions - I want to re-create my dream of a serene, safe haven from outside stresses by keeping what we love, ditching what we don't and organizing the necessary-but-doesn't-have-to-be-visible detritus of everyday living...

Figured I'd take advantage of this sabbatical (thanks, Catherine - sounds so much better than lay-off, doesn't it?) to achieve order in my surroundings - what a great way to kick off the New Year (chaos begone!).

The Year I Discovered How Clutter Blocks Success

Christine Kane

I looked at my phone in horror.

"You want me to what?" I said into it.

"It's time, Christine. You've been talking about that basement for weeks now. It's time to deal with it."

I had been working with my coach for months at this point. And even though I had reached certain levels of success in my career, I kept getting stuck in the same old ruts. I was about to record my fourth CD, and I was ready to move to a higher level.

Thom was doing what good coaches do: listening carefully, seeing clearly - and of course, pushing me to take conscious action.

So, he encouraged me to start small and completely clear out the junk in my basement. Thirty minutes a day.

One section at a time. Building momentum as I went.

Each week, during our call, I'd report back on my progress.

Each week, I had a new reason why I simply could not let go of some clutter-y item.

"But I spent so much on it!" "I might need it someday!" "I could gain weight and need this again." "I paid such a good price for it!"

To my credit, I did pretty well at letting go once Thom talked me through these old mindsets.

Then came the week I had to face one particularly significant section of the basement.

It was where I stored various pieces of furniture I had gotten at the Salvation Army and at local flea markets when I first began my songwriting career. A bookcase, a kitchen table, a dresser, and a few shelves. I no longer liked or used this furniture because my tastes totally changed. I had begun to cherish beauty and opulence in my surroundings. I wanted to fill my home only with items that I loved.

"So, Christine," Thom asked. "Why don't you want to let these things go?"

I was embarrassed. But I told him the truth. "Well, here's the thing. If my music career doesn't work out, I might need them one day. If I fail, and I don't have any money, I might wish I had kept these things."

Long pause.

"So, you'll be on the street - but at least you'll have that bookcase?"

I laughed.

Thom sighed. And what he said next has been a core lesson of creating my success and happiness.

He said that everything in our lives has energy. Everything has our thoughts and emotions embedded into it. Old furniture is no exception. In essence, what I was saying to the universe and to my subconscious, creative self was this:

I believe so deeply in my own failure that I'm holding onto physical things that represent that possibility. Every time I walk by these items in my basement, I will be reminded of my inevitable failure. Every moment I'm in my house, my subconscious will know that in the very foundation of my life (my basement), there are items that prove I don't believe in my own success.

That week, I called Goodwill, and scheduled an appointment to have the old furniture taken away.

I'd love to report that I smiled and waved as the old clunky furniture was carried away. But the truth is I was terrified. I was letting go of my Plan B. I was saying to the Universe: "I thoroughly believe in my own success."

I had never done that before in such a concrete way!

As I wrote earlier, I began recording my fourth CD "Rain & Mud & Wild & Green" as I was clearing out the basement. That CD went on to sell five times more than any of my other CD's. It received rave reviews. Border's Books featured it on a listening post that year, and named it the top CD of the year in my category.

Now, even though I know this success wasn't ONLY about letting go of my old flea market furniture, I have become a firm believer that we each need to pay attention to the energy of the stuff that surrounds us. We need to pay attention to what we are telling our subconscious minds when we hold on.

Now you.

What are you holding onto? What thoughts and beliefs are you putting out into the Universe by clinging to it? Are you telling yourself you don't believe in the inevitability of your own success and prosperity? Or that you don't believe you can expand and create better things in your life?

Pick one thing - just one small thing - and let it go. Today!

Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her 'LiveCreative' weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FRE*E subscription to LiveCreative at www.christinekane.com.

SONG: I Scare Myself by Dan Hicks and His Hot Licks

BOOK: Your Spacious Self: Clear Your Clutter and Discover Who You Are by Stephanie Bennett Vogt

POEM: At the Zen Mountain Monastery by Rachel Wetzsteon

A double line of meditators sits
on mats, each one a human triangle.
Evacuate your mind of clutter now.
I do my best, squeezing the static and
the agony into a straight flat line,
but soon it soars and dips until my mind’s
activity looks (you can take the girl...)
uncannily like the Manhattan skyline.
Observe your thoughts, then gently let them go.
I’m watching them all right, unruly dots
I not only can’t part from but can’t help
transforming into restless bodies -- they’re
no sooner being thought than sprouting limbs,
no longer motionless but striding proudly,
beautiful mental jukeboxes that play
their litanies of joy and woe each day
beneath the shadow of enormous buildings.
Desires are your jailers; set them free
and roam the hills, smiling archaically.
It’s not a pretty picture, me amid
high alpine regions in my urban black,
huffing and puffing in the mountain air
and saying to myself, I’m trying but
it’s hopeless; though the tortures of the damned
make waking difficult, they are my tortures;
I want them raucous and I want them near,
like howling pets I nonetheless adore
and holler adamant instructions to --
sprint, mad ambition! scavenge, hopeless love
that begs requital! -- on our evening stroll
down Broadway and up West End Avenue.

QUOTE: "To undertake is to achieve." ~ Emily Dickinson

My Sister (Juliana Hatfield)

So... we pulled it off - my daughter Sarah and I threw a surprise birthday party for my visiting sister!

When Mari e-mailed me a few weeks back, said she was flying into Tampa for a business conference and would love to drive over mid-week when she was finished to hang with us for a few days, the wheels began to turn (no pun intended) - she had a major milestone birthday last month and, having lived in South Florida from 1992 - 2000, there are still people here who know and love her...

Here is the Evite invitation we sent out:

Surprise Party: No Flip-Flop About It - Mari's 40!

Mari (Sue's sister/Sarah's aunt), who lives in Atlanta, will be in town for a visit following a business conference in Tampa. She turned 40 on January 18 and we'd like to surprise her with a women's get-together here.

Mari just got a tattoo on her lower back (of flip flops!) so we'd like to ask each of you to wear your favorite pair, as well as write up some advice/wise words on the occasion of turning the magical Four-Oh (printed on an 8 1/2" x 11" paper of your choice to include in a memory scrapbook, please)...

We will provide scrumptious appetizers and a variety of beverages (soda, tea, water, red and white wine as well as a special drink invented in her honor: the Maritini... :-)

Bring your best self and join us in celebrating Mari... and the circle of female friendships - 40 rocks!

It was a delightful worlds-colliding evening and we are suitably exhausted/exhiliarated - today will most definitely be a Bums By the Pool Day (aaaahhhh)...

I adore my "baby" sister - I was 13 when she was born and truly felt like her second mother for years. The family legend is that my parents tried to have more children after me but were unsuccessful, until my father converted to Catholicism, whereupon my mom became pregnant immediately - the name Mary Catherine (which she later shortened and changed to Mari) was conferred on the "miraculous conception"... :-)

I read to her, played with her, watched out for her - I regaled her with lullabies of I'm the Greatest Star and I'd Rather Be Blue and, when we were both adults and Mari still lived close by and came for Christmas, our clean-up ritual was to put on the Funny Girl soundtrack and sing along (loudly) to the entire CD as we made fast work of Tupperwaring and dishwashing.

She was eight when my husband and I got married - he and I decided to give away all of our duplicate albums (a leap of faith our union was forever!) and she became the unlikely recipient, turning into the coolest kiddo in the neighborhood as the new proud owner of The Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, Joni Mitchell's Blue and James Taylor's Mudslide Slim and the Blue Horizon.

[ Decades later when I was beginning to segue to CDs, after having transitioned to cassettes, I made the vow I was not going to replace anything I previously had in the other two formats, but would instead just move forward musically from there - for my birthday party the next month, Mari said "that's the stupidest f*cking rule I've ever heard" and gifted me with Carole King's Tapestry on CD (which of course was one of the many albums we had given her way back then... :-) ]

As we grew up, the gap lessened and I segued from caretaker to confidante - I still consider her one of my best friends, and we have such an easy relationship.

We have a variety of running jokes, one of which comes from the long-since-retired TV show thirtysomething, in which the character Melissa is speaking to her younger sister about the differences in their family roles according to birth order - Melissa says, "as the older child, it's my job to fulfill all of mom and dad's deepest hopes, dreams and desires. All you have to do is stay out of prison." So true, so true - I got in major trouble in high school (I plead the fifth on details) and was told I had dragged our family name through the mud but, when Mari did the same thing 13 years later, I recall the party line was "kids will be kids" (no fair!).

I loved the days when Mari shadowed me from room to room, yakking away, looking up to me reverentially, wishing she had "bazooms" (breasts) - she was a tiny thing ("Bones" was her nickname) and she threw herself into everything she attempted (whether it was Junior Civitan, cheerleading or soccer), never envisioning failure as an option. She was socially and scholastically proficient and graduated from the University of Georgia - she's always been independent and resourceful and grateful for whatever blessings came her way, even when our parents' marriage began to erode and she was caught in the middle.

Mari now has a supportive husband, a darling 11-year-old daughter by a previous marriage (I was Mari's labor coach and helped Julia into the world), a gorgeous and huge home, a responsible and respectable job and a wonderful network of women friends of her own - I am so proud of who she has grown into...

P.S. For the curious among you, the Maritini mentioned in the Evite was equal parts chilled vanilla vodka and Voyant chai liqueur, served in martini glasses rimmed with cinnamon sugar - yum!

P.P.S. My sister is not a b*tch... but she did turn me to on my post-titled song, so I felt it only appropriate to use - I think it celebrates, without sugarcoating, the love/hate relationship between female siblings... :-)

SONG: My Sister by Juliana Hatfield

BOOK: Sisters: 10th Anniversary Edition by Carol Saline, Sharon J. Wohlmuth

POEM: One Sister have I in our house by Emily Dickinson

One Sister have I in our house,

And one, a hedge away.

There's only one recorded,

But both belong to me.

One came the road that I came—

And wore my last year's gown—

The other, as a bird her nest,

Builded our hearts among.

She did not sing as we did—

It was a different tune—

Herself to her a music

As Bumble bee of June.

Today is far from Childhood—

But up and down the hills

I held her hand the tighter—

Which shortened all the miles—

And still her hum

The years among,

Deceives the Butterfly;

Still in her Eye

The Violets lie

Mouldered this many May.

I spilt the dew—

But took the morn—

I chose this single star

From out the wide night's numbers—

Sue - forevermore!

QUOTE: "A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life." ~ Isadora James