It's OK (Imagine Dragons)

digital art by Mike Parsons

Sunday was such a hard day, but I had a wonderful therapy session Monday; surprised she kept to the every-other-Monday schedule since it was Memorial Day, but glad she did.  I had forgotten that, when I first started with Leigh, I filled out some forms related to both depression and anxiety, and she asked if I was ready to re-answer those questions (maybe 7 in each category); for the former, I went from 17 to 3 and the latter 14 to 1.  D*mn.  That's progress.  Funny that, after celebrating my "test" results, I burst into tears, and queried where that came from, seemingly out of the blue.  Leigh responded that grief is like Florida weather:  gorgeous one minute, thunderstorms the next... or how sometimes it rains on one side of the street and not the other.  Sounds cliche but it was perfect.  Anyway, the 50-minute hour was exactly what I needed... 🤗

I left therapy and went to the Hope Garden to dump compost, long overdue since Claire and I decided to go to an every-other-Saturday workday, meaning we weren't there this past weekend.  I had my containers... plus Sarah's, Nancy's, Didi's, Pam's, and our heat wave continues; even at 4:15 p.m., it was in the mid-to-high-90s.  Our compost bins are all the way down at the end in the Banana Circle, which is mostly shady, but the effort still got to me and I had to lie down right there on the ground; I couldn't figure out if I was having a panic attack or a heat stroke, and I tried to stay calm and prone until the feeling passed.  Frightening.  Fortunately I had my phone with me, and of course I had left my water bottle in the car, but I did slowly make my way back to the cafe and bought my favorite Green Lotus smoothie (Pineapple, Spinach, Kale, Cucumber, Celery, Lemon, Ginger, Green Apple, Coconut Water) which helped lower my body temperature, and I still felt woozy when I got home... but stretching out under the ceiling fan in the A/C helped me turn the corner, and I soon felt perfectly fine.  Whew.

Takeaway:  grieving is not for sissies; nor is climate change.  Ha!

SONG:  It's OK by Imagine Dragons https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ClwtqeHF264 

BOOK:  Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change by Maggie Smith

POEM:  Dear World by Maya Stein

You are a big turtle. You are a violin bow and a ladder of backbones and a lettuce leaf. You are weeds and woodpeckers and a T-shirt with strawberries on it. You are the hint of a sunburn at the tips of noses. You are restaurant toothpicks and a bowl of pink-striped mints and bubble gum commercials and a crossword puzzle. You are the sound of the dryer going on Sunday nights, and the smell of erasers. You are dental floss and a roll of paper towels. You are a twist of Oreos with the icing licked clean off. You are pinky promises and video arcades. Dear world, you are also scratchy and full of tangles that no soap or comb can tease out. But you are also bright stadium lights and stovetop popcorn with real butter. You are a popsicle drip on bare skin. You are sprinklers, and drive-in movies, and fireflies in the middle of night. World, I am doing what I can to keep you here. I am growing my own tomatoes. I am pulling the weeds. I am writing a poem now and again. I am walking down to the rocky beach and wading in the water and I'm staying there, watching the crabs scuttle underneath, and I'm trying not to move. I'm looking up at the stars when they come out. I'm trying not to count them but instead, I'm holding them in my heart. Lightly, like a breeze. And then I try to imagine those stars like the squares on a turtle's back, and I wonder how many of them I could fit in my heart. How many squares. How many turtles. How many strawberries and Oreos and popsicles and fireflies. How many movies and lights. How many erasers and violins. And then, dear World, I start counting.

QUOTE:  “Here is one way to look at yourself through spiritual eyes: you are a message. When you wonder what existence is all about, when you ask about your purpose in life, or when you feel small in comparison to the troubles of the world: remember that you are a message sent by the Spirit into creation. What you say, what you do, how you think and feel: your whole life is a long and sustained message for others to encounter, experience and receive. You are a living message: sent to touch more lives than you can imagine.” ~ Steven Charleston

Goodnight Sun (Nahko and Medicine For the People)

After Eric died, while discussing details of how to move forward, on a very practical level, we immediately thought cremation... and it was reassuring to hear Duyen confirm, in conversations with him, that was his wish.

Somewhere along the way, I got the idea (scathingly brilliant or crazy as f*ck?) that we'd obviously keep some of his ashes for us and give some to Duyen, but that I also wanted to share his ashes with family and special friends, not in a "party favors" way, but as a special memento, a way of honoring him.

So, on the morning of E's service, Chico and I set up an assembly line on our dining room table, me depositing a scoopful in a snack-sized baggie, Chico sealing each baggie, then me folding the baggie and putting it into a small tulle pouch (which I had originally bought for the bath teas I make, but ended up being too small).  The pouches were of various colors (yellow, dark blue, light green, yellow, turquoise, dark green), with a drawstring... placing them into a small totebag.

It was also cool that, while we were enacting this loving gesture, we were listening to very special music, which was originally a mixtape I made for myself (two+ decades ago) and gave a copy to my friend Michele, which she only recently crafted into a Spotify playlist and shared with me.  You will notice an ongoing symbolism and theme of sunshine throughout Eric's Celebration of Life, from the photo on the cover of the program to various other elements (plus he was a Leo, you know!).

The service ended a bit after 5 p.m. and we all spent an additional two hours eating and sharing memories of Eric.  About 6:30 I remembered the pouches and began to walk around, distributing them to those people who remained, asking them to take Eric on an adventure by sprinkling his ashes in an interesting or memorable place (if you knew Eric and didn't receive a pouch, please reach out and I'll make sure to get one to you; Michele and Judi, your pouch is in the mail!).

After we finished clearing the room, about 30 of us segued to Flashback Diner for dinner (as we'd only had light appetizers available in the room).  I passed out a few more pouches and started kidding/not kidding that we should create a website, or some format in which family and friends would be able to share their adventure with Eric (and I riffed on the Carmen Sandiego show, but using #whereintheworldisericdriskellmoss instead.  Clever, right?  And as soon as Rob and his friend Leslie got home, they came up with an Instagram page... 😍

I had deactivated my Instagram account years ago, but I made a new one yesterday *only* so I could view E's upcoming travels (I have no desire for another social media site, so I won't be interacting).  Let the Wild Rumpus Begin... 🥳

SONG:  Goodnight Sun by Nahko and Medicine For the People

BOOK:  Rising from the Ashes: The Poetry of Healing by Jasmine Williams

POEM:  comforts by Maya Stein

This tall glass of ice water. This quadrant of untamed grass. This half

of a grapefruit, pixelated with sugar. This final plank of an empty dock. This red-hued living room.

This carved rhinoceros from a place where the real thing runs wild. This echo of a laugh,

a touch, a conversation that turned the world upside down. This piece of lined paper. This single bloom

from a late summer garden, tucked inside a thin vase. This teeming silence. This warmth. This brief break

between disruptions. This sprawl of newspaper on the porch. This blank canvas. This tube of paint.

This back road squirreling a mountain range. This maple donut filled with custard. This soup you'll make

when your father comes to visit. This five-dollar bill found after two loads of vacation wash. This faint

smell of mint coming back from a run. This atlas on the driver's seat. This curtain parting from the stage.

This tree angling its leaves toward autumn. This story birthed from ashes. This unstoppable turning of the page.

QUOTE(S):  "As I wept in the arms of darkness, I heard the voice of my grandmother say, "nothing stays the same, darling, not even pain."  Life is a path of change.  Of ecstasy and ache.  So, no matter what the storm claims, let love light the way." ~ Tanya Markul

“In one of those stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

No Hard Feelings (The Avett Brothers)

Morning.  I am still unable to add Good beforehand, nor an exclamation point afterward.  I said in a previous post that mornings are my enemy, because they are irrefutable proof that Eric is not coming back.  But that is for another time... 💔

We are headed to Nancy's for brunch in an hour or so.  It's been an amazing weekend of family and friends and, despite the tragic circumstances (or maybe because of them), we've had so many beautiful re-connections... and I hope we've all vowed to use this as a jumping-off place to reach out more often.  A wedding and a funeral within a month of each other.  The Circle of Life... ⌾

I arrived at the venue yesterday, "shaking people off like a bad pitch", letting them know that I just could not handle hugs nor any extension of kindness, because I would just fall apart.  But that lasted about 15 minutes when I began to melt and accept, and then I went back to those I'd refused and opened my arms in welcome.  And some of them made me cry, but all of them comforted me too.  

I know I keep using this word, and it does mean what I think it means (a nod to The Princess Bride), but we were Gobsmacked by the number of people in attendance:  Eric's Ace Crew (skateboarding), neighborhood friends, gamer peeps, lifeguarding proteges from his C.B. Smith days, his *new* boss came from North Carolina, Chico's soccer folks, my folk club/book club/gardening gangs, our nearest and dearest:  friends as well as family mentioned above.

I loved that we were able to arrange a Zoom link, so that many out-of-towners were able to tune in.  My understanding is that Rebecca (the River of Grass person recording) will "clean up" the video, send to us in completed form, at which point we can upload it to a YouTube channel (either Duyen's or Eric's).  It is recorded for posterity... in perpetuity... with peace.  I would like to watch it at some point but, in the meantime, I am grateful to have not only made it through, but presented our love for E with grace and style.  We honored our boy.  WWED?  

We are so unbelievably grateful for it all; I am truly counting my blessings for a life well-lived, his as well as ours.

I need to figure out how I can share the Celebration of Life program here but, in the meantime, here are the words/tribute/eulogy I spoke:

I'm Susan Moss, Eric's mom.

Everyone who knows me knows that I love to swear... selective swearing, though (I definitely don't do it around my sweet Colin)... but sometimes only a well-placed, well-timed expletive will do.  So let's just get it out of the way.  Parents are not supposed to outlive their children.  It is f*cking unimaginable... ridiculous... astounding that we are all here today for that reason.  Our dear Eric is gone.

This entire service (from the music to the readings to the remembrances to the decor) is all about Eric.   Those who knew and loved him, and who he knew and loved in return, are in this room.  We are beyond grateful you took time out of what we all know to be Busy Lives to be in attendance today.  You have crossed county lines... state lines... time zones.  He would be so pleased.  E is the hub and we are the spokes:  his/our immediate and extended family, his chosen companion for the last two years and her family, his friends (many of those from childhood, with whom he continued a connection), his work colleagues, past as well as present.

Anyone who knows me also realizes I am all about Synchronicity.  Chico and I drove up to Atlanta in early-September to attend my brother's wedding but, in retrospect, and as fabulous as their wedding was... I now believe that was The Universe's way of orchestrating an opportunity for us to see Eric again (since he had just moved up to Atlanta in mid-March).  We hung out for three hours, conversing and laughing, took a lovely selfie, and got back in the car to Aiken South Carolina to visit with Chico's sister and her family.

The last few years have found me adopting a philosophy of Every Day Is Day One... tabula rasa... clean slate... no grudges... Both/And.  I can assure you that it's incredibly liberating.  We feel so lucky there were no regrets with E, no woulda/coulda/shoulda.

So far, he's given us signs of rainbows... and an owl appeared to me that I am sure was a visitation.  And, even though I've declared a moratorium on tattoos ("seven is the number", sings Dave Carter), if I hear Eric's voice whispering in my ear that it might be time for more ink, one of you will be getting a call to accompany me.

In the video you will soon see, I was reminded that Eric danced like a male stripper... and you'll have to ask Sarah or Rob to tell you the Hello Kitty Backpack story... and I used to call him Max from Where the Wild Things Are... and when I wished him Happy Birthday on Facebook a few years ago, telling him:  "E, you gave me all my gray hair, but you gave me all my laugh lines too!"... and he replied:  I'll take 33% blame for the gray hair, but 100% credit for the laugh lines"... 😊

And if my Uncle Andy (soon to be 92 years old) was here, he would yodel... because that's a longstanding family tradition for all important milestones, whether birthdays, weddings, or funerals!

I am a poetry lover, and they have been finding *me* the last few weeks, just yesterday this short one by Mary Oliver:

Everything that was broken has

forgotten its brokenness. I live

now in a sky-house, through every

window the sun. Also your presence.

Our touching, our stories. Earthly

and holy both. How can this be, but

it is. Every day has something in

it whose name is forever.

I loved my hilarious, smart, kind, articulate, generous-of-spirit (and let's not forget handsome!) son fiercely.  Justin Cronin says: “As long as we remember a person, they're not really gone."  Please remember Eric.  Remember him.

SONG(S):  No Hard Feelings by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Everything I Need To Know I Learned From a Little Golden Book by Diane Muldrow

POEM(S):  Gentle by Alfred K. LaMotte

A gentler world begins

in the way you touch your heart.

Be soft with the light inside you.

Caress your body with this breath.

God is nothing else

but the place where the sun comes up

in your chest.

You are the glimmering destination.

You are the golden honey daubed

on the bread of the ordinary.

Whatever is perfect,

whatever is heavenly,

begins here.

QUOTE:  "Grief and its surrender. Joy and its surrender. Any act and its surrender." ~ Maya Stein

Glitter in the Air (Pink)

Too funny!  I was going through my blog drafts and ran across this one dated January 31, 2023... all ready to go except for the book.  Hated to let it go to waste so, I just found a book and am posting now, revisiting a slice of my life from 8 months ago.  A virtual time capsule!  So many things have changed since then.  That's Life, right?... 🤷

"Have you ever wished for an endless night?

Lassoed the moon and the stars and pulled that rope tight

Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?"

Can't even remember what show or movie I was watching a few weeks ago when this song popped up... so I filed it away for later.  Later is now... 😍

Despite my pain issues (dissipating but still here), I am feeling very lucky these days with my overly-full yet beyond-joy-filled life:

~ The True North Project Pam invited me to be on the board of is really taking off; we are now officially a non-profit, we have a fiscal sponsor and a bank account.  Waiting on website construction as well as a logo for branding, and then we should be able to go live with what's on the books and what's in the works.  Did I tell you I'm flying up to Maryland the last weekend of March for our inaugural concert?  Pam has also asked me to collaborate with her on booking, and one of my goals is to invite/confirm Dar for the fall/winter season.  I will make this happen!

~ ~ This week is the SFFF (actually now called the South Florida Folk and Acoustic Music Festival).  I've been very busy with the festival prep, not as a board or staff member but, as Dar would call it, a Conscious Bridger in many behind-the-scenes ways.  It feels good to help.

~ Went to Bryan's (the horticulturist/plant provider for the festival stages, one of the connections I made) today to trade a book (Late Migrations, my discovery toward the end of 2022) for a plant (he's been telling me about Lady of the Night, which blooms every full moon; next one is February 5!).  He played me a John Prine song on guitar (I of course cried), toured me around his nursery, and gave me a witch ball, which I hung on my balcony when I got home.

~ Our A/C went down last night but, after a phone call this a.m., they showed up at 2 p.m. to fix it (just needed unclogging, which happens once or twice a year in South Florida).

~ Had a great two-hour phone chat with Michele when I got home from Bryan's (also the library to pick up Bitch); we haven't talked (texted and e-mailed, yes) since the week after Christmas, and we were long overdue.

~ Sarah called to check in (busy weekend for her), Eric has had quite a few Zoom job interviews in anticipation of his move to Atlanta, and Rob's talking about posting on his blog again.

~ Robert and I feel more in balance and at peace lately; even when things are rocky between us, he almost always gives me a back massage when I come to bed, and he's been even more attentive these last few days with my pulled/strained muscle(s).  Touch is definitely one of my Love Languages, both giving as well as receiving.

~ I abandoned a book after Fadiman, and last night I started Lessons in Chemistry, which I love so far.  Please let it continue!

SONG:  Glitter in the Air by Pink

BOOK:  JOMO: Celebrate the Joy of Missing Out! by Jessica Misener

POEM(S):  BYOF by Maya Stein

It’s a new day. Bring your own fork. Bring your own footwear. Bring your own

fragrance, your own faith, your flamboyance, your fetishes, your fashionable lateness.

Become your own fantasy. Be your one friend. Believe yesterday was only a fragment.

Make a betrothal of yeses on fortune. Brush last year’s offenses free. Banish

your outdated fury. Breathe. Yearn. Opine. Flex. Or bleat. Or yodel. Or remember

how to be frivolous. Break yourself out of what no longer fits. Bloom. Occupy your body

as it were flowering perennially. Write your blessings down, or yell them, opulently,

into the span of a quiet forest. Brave the yeti of an old fear. Bulldoze the yoke

of what’s keeping you fixed. Burn the yardstick, the odometer, the flagrant shames.

Build your radiance from the flames.

i am running into a new year by Lucille Clifton

i am running into a new year

and the old years blow back

like a wind

that i catch in my hair

like strong fingers like

all my old promises and

it will be hard to let go

of what i said to myself

about myself

when i was sixteen and

twenty-six and thirty-six

even thirty-six but

i am running into a new year

and i beg what i love and

i leave to forgive me

Storage by Mary Oliver

When I moved from

one house to another,

there were many things

I had no room for.

What does one do?

I rented a storage space

and filled it.

Years passed.

Occasionally,

I went there

and looked in,

but nothing happened,

not a single twinge

of the heart.

As I grew older

the things I cared about

grew fewer but were

more important,

so one day I undid the lock

and called the trash man.

He took everything.

I felt like the little donkey

when his burden is finally

lifted.

Things! Burn them, burn them!

Make a beautiful fire!

More room in your heart

for Love, for the trees.

For the birds who own

nothing;

✨

the reason they

can fly."

QUOTE:  “And now let us believe in a long year that is given to us, new, untouched, full of things that have never been...” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke 

Bring Love

wherever you go.

Shine Light

wherever it's dark.

Leave Blessings 

wherever you've been.

Be Kind

wherever you are.

~ Mary Davis

Joy (Carlos Santana and Chris Stapleton)

Full, satisfying, lovely week!  Zoom with Nancy and Judi... a fasting/bloodwork appointment with a follow-up doctor visit in a few weeks (on the surface, all looked good)... two library pick-ups... a sweet phone chat with my sister Mari... Zoom book club with my OverReaders Anonymous group (since September 2001 and counting!)... picked up Colin from preschool... a Dollar Tree shopping spree ($24 and so much great stuff!)... and this morning our regular Community Garden get-together (today we installed netting over some hooped beds, repotted plants into smaller containers to sell at our Pop-Up Market, and even saw some donkeys:  the collective noun is herd but, since there were only four, that doesn't really apply...  Two more garden events this weekend:

Mulching and Pollinator Garden on Saturday:  

https://www.facebook.com/events/224145272915317

Pop-Up Market on Sunday:

https://www.facebook.com/events/857790578206545

...and on the seventh day, she rested (ha ha ha ha ha!)

P.S.  I am also faithfully/obsessively back in my walking routine, for two reasons:  1) the weather is a bit cooler, and the humidity a tad lower... and 2) a dear friend has been converting a series of *mixtapes* I made in 1997/98 to Spotify playlists.  Talk about Memory Lane, literally as well as figuratively!  Thanks and love, MW... 💞 ♭♭♭ 😎

NR:  The Leavers by Lisa Ko

It is indeed Feel Good Friday (cutting it close again!) and, as is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten/enlighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~ Scenes from the Life of Roz Chast:  In the past four decades, the cartoonist has created a universe of spidery lines and nervous spaces, turning anxious truth-telling into an authoritative art.

~ 10 Ways To Connect To The Earth and Others:  How do you feeling complete and connected to the Earth and others? It takes effort, but it is worth it. We must bring our focus outside of ourselves to allow us to reach out to people and to the world around us in positive ways.

~ Do You Believe?:  Michael Dean as Cher wows audiences with his uncanny ability to impersonate the one and only Cher.  He is available for corporate

and charitable events, celebrations and other special occasions.

~ Welcome to She’s Full of Lit!:  While book blogs and book reviews abound on the internet, the three of us (Elizabeth, Moira, and Shannon), felt that we had a distinctive voice to bring to the book world.  

~ Feeling Anxious? Journaling Might Help:  Guided notebooks that borrow principles from cognitive-behavioral therapy and mindfulness are aiming to put mental-health tools in the hands of the people.

~ Bonus item:  Matt Amodio’s ‘Jeopardy!’ Streak Ends After 38 Wins:  The computer science Ph.D. student had the second-longest winning streak in the history of the game show. [Susan's note:  I record Jeopardy every night, and watch it either later that evening or the next day (have been doing that for years).  Of course, I am impressed and in awe of Matt Amodio's mad skills/memory/brainpower, having won $1,518,601 over the course of his run since July 21.  However, it just wasn't fun anymore, as the Ph.D. student bulldozed over his competitors with his knowledge, his strategy, and his high-risk betting, making every game a runaway... except that last one, obviously.  It feels good to be back to "the good ol' days again", with an even playing field... until the next wunderkind comes along... 👀

 

SONG:  Joy by Carlos Santana, with Chris Stapleton

BOOK:  These Precious Days: Essays by Ann Patchett

POEM:  five acts of protest by Maya Stein

1. It is too late in the season for the tomato vines to bear fruit. Nevertheless,

a bloom has appeared the color of a kindergarten sun.

2. Potato chips, eaten in a moving car, napkinless.

3. A coupon will arrive in the mail and it will appear glossy with promise, or a celebrity

you admire will begin a new skin care routine that leaves them ebullient with youth

and you will want that same glow bestowed on your tired face. Instead, make applesauce.

Write a chirpy Post-it note to your neighbor. Scotch tape it on a Mason jar you’ve filled

to the brim. Deliver it, unannounced, to their doorstep.

4. Stillness. No, really. Stop moving for One. Whole. Minute.

5. Grief and its surrender. Joy and its surrender. Any act and its surrender.

QUOTE:  "Some days I am overwhelmed with sadness, a heavy heart, and a sense of loss; some days I awaken already infused with a sense of gratitude and joy. Every day, however, I wake up prepared to be curious and interested, to approach all interactions with myself and others with compassion, and to do what I can to challenge thoughts and beliefs that I don’t want to take into my future. I just know that next year will be a better year." ~ Catherine Nabbs

Brighter Day (Forest Sun)

Feels to me, at least in our family, that the pandemic, despite the fact there is much tragedy surrounding, has provided each of us with many opportunities for personal growth:  mindfulness, compassion, patience, awareness, self-care, gratitude, listening skills, thoughtfulness.  We actually talk about it often, and we are noticing each other's progress.  Sweet.

The poem and quote below appeared on my radar at the same time, albeit from two different sources, and the rest fell into place, all magical gifts from The Universe... 💖

SONG:  Brighter Day by Forest Sun

BOOK:  Make Someone Happy: Favorite Postings by Elizabeth Berg

POEM:  the windows of Liberty, Maine by Maya Stein

for Kate

Which is another way of saying, What will you do when the chips are down,

or How will you make a life that beats the odds, or Where does your mind go

when the enemy recedes, or Have you ever loved a place you haven’t been,

or Who do you think you are…no, really? or, What is it that feels the most

impossible, or Why walk when you can run, or What do you call that moment

when the light changes for good, or Who is holding the stopwatch, or Where

does it say that broken isn’t beautiful, or How many times are you willing

to break, or What do you get when you cross the road without

the f***ing chicken, or Which language is the one you want to be speaking, or

What is the sound of one window opening, and another, and another?

QUOTE:  “Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think deja vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…” ~ Timothy Leary

Mr. Biden (Bring My Vaccine) (A Randy Rainbow Song Parody)

Went to Costco yesterday.  Very anxiety-inducing, as it was my first "store" outing (other than the library, which has 4 people compared to 400) since the beginning of the pandemic.  I had been putting off my membership renewal (expired end of last month) because it is required to go *in* to do it, as well as getting Chico his own card (he was on the account, but needed to have his picture taken to be official).  Done, and Done.  Zippity... 😍

Zoom with Nancy and Judi this morning, now getting some things done around the house.  Continued Gratitude because, as of this morning, all three of our adult children have been fully vaccinated.  Huge sigh of relief, especially for the boys, since they are both in the restaurant business and have daily exposure to goodness knows what.  Right now we are all looking forward to our next gathering, when we will feel comfortable hugging, maskless.  Oh, Happy Day... 💞

This blog post has been in the works for *months*, back when Chico and I had our first shots in mid-January, and the circuitous and lengthy process we encountered (filling out forms, writing on our windshield at various points:  driver's license checks to make sure we were 65+, as well as waiting 15 minutes after the vaccination, to make sure we didn't have a reaction).  Start to finish, a three-hour experience.  Second time around was half the time, as they had fine-tuned the process.  That was at a public park, in our car, and now availability has expanded to Publix, drugstores, etc.  We've come a long way in three months.

The news is full of variants and herd immunity and "following the science", oh my!  We just have to figure out how to get more people vaccinated more quickly, and convince those with hesitancy, if not for themselves, to do it for others.

SONG:  Mr. Biden (Bring My Vaccine) - A Randy Rainbow Song Parody

BOOK:  Kelly Gets a Vaccine: How We Beat Coronavirus by Lauren D. Block, Adam E. Block, Debby Rahmalia (Illustrator)

POEM:  the delicate arrangement of unavoidable sorrow by Maya Stein

At the clinic, the path to the nurse with the syringe in her hand was festooned with signs.

It took no time to get through the answers - “No,” “No,” “No,” “No,” “No” - before

the clipboard came down and I was pointed toward table number 6. It was, dare I say,

almost cheerful, the processions of new arrivals, the summer-hued short-sleeve shirts

rolled to the tip of bare shoulders, volunteers on circuitous rounds in the waiting area,

spray bottles clipped to their waists. It was only later, midnight, waking to the cry

of my body as it wrestled with the angel serum inside it, that I peered at the edge of what

and who had been sacrificed, and what remainders the disease would scavenge.

In the morning, I drifted between rooms, sipping from my water glass, nested in a limbo

of relief and sadness, my eyes scanning a horizon that kept slipping in and out of view.

Relic by Russell Brakefield

years from now I dislodge a mask

kneeling in a gas station parking lot

to suck crumbs from the consoles

half in and half out the passenger seat

I dislodge a mask from the floormat

flattened and streaked, folded on itself

like a wounded bird but still

retaining its feather-blue tint

ear straps flung aside like broken wings

its sunken breast smudged

where I once pressed my mouth

the downy screen through which

I filtered my life, where my words were

wrung out and carried off as on a soft wind

a dirty plume that held prayers

and songs and desperate transactions

where I said even I love you

in a muffled tone, where I said even

I’m home! standing in the doorway

forgetting, for a brief moment, which

were the safer parts of the world

[Russell Brakefield: “As we encounter positive news about vaccines and look forward to a new administration’s response to the pandemic, I’ve been turning my mind to a post-Covid world, thinking about how we will live and interact with this time in history in the years to come.”]

QUOTE:  "Imagine the action of a vaccine not just in terms of how it affects a single body, but also in terms of how it affects the collective body of a community." ~ Eula Biss

Upside Down (Jack Johnson)

"Why is it that when something bad happens, it feels terrible? I have been so conditioned to strive for success that when something goes wrong I feel terrible and I feel like a failure. But usually in time, after I get over myself, that failure turns into a valuable lesson. Of course to get to this point it normally takes time and perspective to see it as the lesson it is instead of the failure that it feels like. I truly believe that if I could remember this at the time I could get to the lesson sooner instead of dwelling on the failure and spend more of my time in joy. At these times this lesson serves me well, there is no such thing as failure, only feedback. My failure is only a failure if I fail to see the feedback, to take the lesson and apply it so that it is only a step on the way to eventual success, even if that success looks very different than what my original vision might have been. Funny how limited my vision can be without the valuable feedback I need to see my success a different way."  Thanks to Sheryl Cattell (a UU-church friend as well as music buddy), Personal Legend Coaching, LLC

I've had this prepared, with every intention (see what I did there!) of uploading it January 1, 2021... but, due to circumstances discussed in a previous post, I had a bit of a delay... 😲

In her December 28, 2007 blog, Resolution Revolution: A Better Way to Start Your Year, Christine Kane writes (click the link for the full article):  Several years ago, my friend Kathy and I decided that, instead of making resolutions, we would pick a word that would guide us throughout the year. It would be our touchstone. It would remind us of living our lives at the BE level.

I have been choosing a Word of the Year since January 2008, to challenge/motivate/inspire me. In retrospect, some of my previous words/phrases have been Release, Create, Let It Go, Health, Light, Follow-Through, Contentment (wish I could remember them all, which I posted on Facebook when my blog was on hiatus, and now they are lost in cyberspace).  Oh well... [insert shrugging woman emoji here]

We all know 2020 was a sh*t show… and I confess it’s been a test of time management, focus/concentration and interpersonal relationships.  I want to put those twelve months behind me… as a cautionary tale, a growth opportunity, and a rearview mirror experience (while still recognizing the desire to do things differently should the same opportunity present itself again).  2021:  Time to move FORWARD, in all its many definitions:

~ in the direction that one is facing or traveling; toward the front.

~ into a position of prominence or notice.

~ toward the future; ahead in time.

~ moving or tending onward to a successful conclusion.

~ developing or acting earlier than expected or required; advanced or precocious.

~ (of a person) bold or familiar in manner, especially in a presumptuous way.

~ help to advance (something); promote.

I have appreciated the patience and understanding of loved ones in my life as I navigate(d) my way through some rough patches and, since I always want to view everything as a life lesson, I feel I have learned much, despite these crazy pandemic times... and still have much *to* learn.  Forward indeed... 💖

Happy New Year! (albeit a week or so late... 😍 )

SONG:  Upside Down by Jack Johnson [During my renewed walking routine since mid-October, this song kept popping up on my Pandora.  I always scoffed at Jack Johnson's tunes, thinking them fluffy and superficial (I mean, seriously... Banana Pancakes?!?).  Somehow this one got through, it makes me smile every time I hear it... and, although it already speaks to me, I want my life in general to be (more) like this.  Impossible, of course, but a [wo]man's reach should exceed her grasp, right?... 💗 ]

BOOK:  LifeForward: Charting the Journey Ahead by Pamela D. McLean

POEM:  Two Bodies by Octavio Paz

Two bodies face to face

Are at times two waves 

And the night is an ocean.

Two bodies face to face

Are sometimes two stones

And the night a desert.

Two bodies face to face 

Are at times two roots

Intertwined in the night.

Two bodies face to face

Are sometimes two stilettos

And night lightening sparks.

Two bodies face to face

Are two stars who are falling

In a naked sky.

QUOTE:  "Because we're doing the best we can, we really are. We're trying to be grown-up and love each other and understand how the hell you're supposed to insert USB leads. We're looking for something to cling on to, something to fight for, something to look forward to. We're doing all we can to teach our children how to swim. We have all of this in common, yet most of us remain strangers, we never know what we do to each other, how your life is affected by mine.

Perhaps we hurried past each other in a crowd today, and neither of us noticed, and the fibers of your coat brushed against mine for single moment and then we were gone. I don't know who you are.

But when you get home this evening, when this day is over and the night takes us, allow yourself a deep breath. Because we made it through this day as well.

There'll be another one along tomorrow." ~ Fredrik Backman, from his novel Anxious People

Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise (The Avett Brothers)

An interesting week, to put it mildly.  I was experiencing my own turmoil in various aspects of my life so, as well as turning inward to find the growth opportunity, I had some great conversations with a few dear friends and family members.  These days I find myself very scattered, unfocused, disorganized... which meant that the agenda items I was attempting to accomplish ended up with multiple mistakes, meaning that I spent more time correcting than I did accomplishing.  Yikes.

Also, over the last week, Sarah has been working with Colin on his listening skills, especially walking through their apartment complex, making sure he knows that the command of "red light" means STOP... immediately!  She is also teaching him about looking left-then-right-then-left-again, then holding her hand at a busy intersection before crossing, even in the parking lot.

I of course had an epiphany that I should use that as my life-metaphor for a while; rather than rushing headlong into potential problems, I would internally look left-then-right-then-left-again, especially where emotions are concerned.  What's the hurry?  Look how much time we have available to ourselves these days.  Use it as a commodity, and not a catastrophe.  Slow the f*ck down, Susan.  Better to delay my response than to say or do something I'd eventually need to back-pedal or retract.  I had a few occasions today in which to do just that, and the outcome was better than hoped for.  Colin became the Master and I the Grasshopper.  "The teacher appears when the lesson is ready to be learned", right?

I've also recalibrated a few other things in my life, beginning with TV.  I do love movies and series, but I've lately been using them to numb out, rather than escape.  Plus, every minute I spend in front of a screen, I am taking away from my primary love:  reading.  Vowed to turn that around and, over the course of the last few days, I am much calmer and more "here".

My sleep patterns have been really off too, because I am waking up earlier, eager to face the day (with a book), but then there's just so much of it (ha!).  My new end-of-evening routine, also instead of TV, is to turn the lights down low, stretch out on the guest room couch with Pandora, headphones (my new best friend!), and The Avett Brothers station (which has included James Taylor, Neil Young, The Rolling Stones, Coldplay, The Beatles, for about an hour (the Dar Williams station is great too).  I can then segue very easily into sleep in my own bed... hopefully by midnight.  Aaahhh!

What are some effective coping mechanisms for you?  How are you getting out of your own way (and head) to take better care of yourself, without falling down the rabbithole?

Of course, the news is full of gloom and doom, panic and pandemonium, chaos and crisis.  This essay by Mark Morford (my favorite SFGate-columnist-turned-yoga-instructor) popped up in my e-mail yesterday.  Perfect timing!

How to avoid the temptation to drown in fatalism? Learn to swim. You know, spiritually speaking.

You don’t have to ‘look on the bright side’ or ‘focus on the positive.' This is a myth, and often feels forced and childish, in denial of events and issues deeply in need of your passionate attention.

Just stop obsessing on the dark and the bleak. Stop fetishizing doom. Step back from the addictive abyss of incessant dread, and find some stillness.

Note that this does not give you license to numb out and refuse to read any media, engage in any essential discussions, form any opinions whatsoever because you deem yourself too precious and "sensitive." That's merely avoidance, vain self-importance disguised as humility. It''s also bullshit, just your ego being passive-aggressive with the gods. Your rejection of reality, of the harrowing vagaries and difficult beauties of the human condition, is of no service to anyone, particularly yourself.

It is also, of course, unwise to try and take it all on, to try and make sense of everything that's happening, slot it all into reasonable boxes of legitimacy. This way madness lies, along with a crushed spirit. It's also impossible. The gods wish to remind you: The karma of the world is not yours to solve. You gotta learn to navigate.

Here is the most difficult thing you can do, and also the simplest: Get strong and clear and calm – get your manic thoughts and doomsday-obsessed emotions out of the way of your innate divine intelligence – and then watch what emerges, spontaneously, from the innermost heart, your truest Self.

Hint: It ain’t gonna be cruelty. It ain’t gonna be violence. It ain’t gonna be MAGA or guns or racism. Nor, conversely, will it be all-day rainbow bunnies and perky 'it's all good' nonsense.

Sit. Fucking. Still. Get real.

It might not be comfortable. It won’t at all be easy. But it will look shockingly like love.

NR:  Beartown by Fredrik Backman (excellent novel by the author of A Man Called Ove... 💖 )

 

SONG:  Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise by The Avett Brothers

BOOK:  Life Is in the Transitions:  Mastering Change at Any Age by Bruce Feiler  (thanks to AmyB for the heads-up!) 

POEM(S):  it will all be messy for a little while longer by Maya Stein

“I feel a little rough around the edges,” I say to a friend on a video chat, because this is

how it is now. And she replies, “We all are,” though from where I’m standing she looks

beautiful, glowing, a midday California sun arrowing photogenically on her cheekbones,

so I tell her so. She says, “I like you in that blue hat” and “It’s so good to see your face,”

and I think about how much faster we’ve gotten with telling the truth. I hit “record”

again, say something about the latest harvest from our garden, about my mother’s

upcoming visit, and she says something about the date she’ll go on after her

appointment with the therapist. It will all be messy for a little while longer, but we don’t

say any of that. Instead, I pan the camera to a body of water and she says, “Where is

Scott Street?” and we say “I love you” and “Talk soon,” because this is how it is now, too.

We Did Not Ask For This Room by Stephen King

We did not ask for this room,

       or this music;

       we were invited in.

Therefore,

because the dark surrounds us,

       let us turn our faces toward the light.

Let us endure hardship

       to be grateful for plenty.

We have been given pain

       to be astounded by joy.

We have been given life

       to deny death.

We did not ask for this room,

       or this music.

But because we are here,

       let us dance.

QUOTE:  "People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light from within.” ~ Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

2020 (Ben Folds)

[thanks to my daughter Sarah for this most perfect meme!]


It's the last day of July, significant in that normally (ha, I don't think that word means what you think it means, Susan!), I would be attending the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival in The Berkshires.  Except that we talked about going to the New Bedford Folk Festival instead... and now both plans are moot... null... kaput.  Anne and Bub, the powers-that-be at FRFF have actually managed to present it online this year, starting at 1:30 p.m. today.  As someone said in the chat of Dar's livestreaming concert last night, "I won't miss the porta-potties and/or the mud", but it will be fun to pop in over the course of the weekend to enjoy the music and community, virtual though it is.  Also, my friend Sheila (who I've known and loved forever, and watched her girls grow into beautiful and kind young women), whose husband Bob volunteers for the parking crew, sent this brilliant and hilarious video... 😄

Had a lovely walk with my friend Dave Wednesday evening, and he gave me some chives from his garden, the better to vegan-cream-cheese-and-bagel with, my dear!  Great phone chat with my sister on the way home, which continued another hour sitting in my car in my condo parking lot.

Yesterday was another perfect beach day with Nancy and SusanP.  Not to jinx it, but we always manage to have perfect weather.  Ack, speaking of... there is some sort of crazy hurricane watch in effect for this weekend, a name whose pronunciation is difficult and counter-intuitive.  What?!?  Anyway, sounds like it won't make it past a Category 1, and we do have a stockpile of supplies, but hoping for the best... and I will update on Monday.

Wonderful livestreaming concert with Dar Williams last night, Histories and Mysteries.  It's archived, if you missed it! 

Taking dinner to my former UUCFL minister and her husband this afternoon.  They were in a tragic car accident earlier this month (Rev. Susan's mom was killed), and I wanted to do something.  For Italians, food is our love language... 💓

NR:  The Second Home by Christina Clancy.  Not very far in, but already enjoying... :-)

So, it is indeed Feel Good Friday.  As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!

~  ‘The Moms Are Here’: ‘Wall of Moms’ Groups Mobilize Nationwide:  The movement that started with a few dozen moms in Portland now has offshoots in cities across the country. (I loved the idea and the intention but now, two days after this article was published/updated, there seems to be controversy.  Such a shame!)


~ From Bob Dylan to The Beatles: 8 songs horror hero Stephen King couldn’t live without:  There are few more imposing names in the world of horror, both on-screen and off, than the extraordinary writer Stephen King. A huge figure in the world of film, King’s works have always been underpinned by the expert use of music. But what were King’s most cherished songs?


~  GEE, ANTHONY FAUCI!:  A Randy Rainbow Song Parody (thanks to SusanP for the heads-up!).


~  Without Music, Tanglewood Is Empty, Eerie and Beautiful:  The usually tourist-packed Berkshires confronts a season without the music festival that anchors its summers.


~ Danny Schmidt and Carrie Elkin, Online Together, Saturday (tomorrow!), August 1, 2020 - 2pm CDT, Facebook Live:  Once a month, Carrie and I have been trying to do a full show of our own, swapping songs back and forth, and singing harmonies with one another. The shows are totally free to watch (though donations are much appreciated) and usually last about an hour and a half. We try and mix up the sets so they're very different shows each time. We hope you'll come join in the festivities!


SONG:  2020 by Ben Folds

BOOK:  What Time Is It? by John Berger, Selçuk Demirel (Illustrator), Maria Nadotti (Introduction)

POEM:  a homeopathic remedy for longing** by Maya Stein

Return to the edge of the ravaged garden, vines stripped while you slept.
Stand mute at the piles you keep adding onto, the leftovers you keep forgetting, 
the trash can that keeps filling and filling and filling. Pause in the brute light 
of unmet plans, the rusty edge of old wounds, the plaintive vacancy of what you 
didn’t say and didn’t do when you had the chance. Roll these losses in your hands. 
Steep in the tea of the stain that follows you everywhere. Gather regret’s knotty fibers 
to your body and enrobe your bones in the steely wool of dread. And now,
now that you’re nearly buried by your own blight, pitch your heart to the sea. Watch it
bobble and weave in an unseen current, tip and tumble as the wind rakes through.
Remember, there is no right answer to where you are going, except forward.

**I borrowed this title from an Instagram post by photographer and writer Lisa Field.

QUOTE:  "What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us." ~ Henry David Thoreau

I've Been Everywhere - Covid 19 version (Jonathan Byrd)

Considering the circumstances, another good week.  Three nice Zoom calls, two of them in regular rotation, and the third with our book club, which hadn't met since February (our March meeting was obviously cancelled).  We kept thinking things would get better and, now that they aren't, we are pondering our options.  We were already scheduled through June, and will probably discuss those four choices September through December (or January).  It's sad to me that our longstanding tradition of theming the food around the book will be temporarily discontinued but... we can still drink wine, albeit in the privacy of our own homes.  However, none of that matters, as long as we can keep our book discussions going!

Yesterday was a lovely beach day with Nancy at SusanP's home... three hours of sun, sand, surf, spritzers, and scintillating conversation.  I have not been this tan in years.  P.S.  Yes, watershoes are a gamechanger, both on the hot sand as well as at the pebbly shoreline...  :-)

My dear grandbaby Colin will turn 2 this Tuesday, July 21... and we are celebrating Sunday morning, a few days before, with a car parade in Sarah's apartment complex.  Recap to follow on Monday, but let's just all sit a minute to let this impossibility sink in.  Two years old?!?  Crazy!

Cleaning house today (ugh!) but it must be done.  New library book as a dangling carrot.  Speaking of, I met my Book A Week Challenge a few days ago.  Every year I either get close to 52, or just barely hit it.  This year, between retirement and the pandemic, I am 5 1/2 months ahead of goal.  At this rate, I might hit triple digits!  It's not a race, and it's not a gauntlet.  It's a pleasure as well as a coping mechanism, and I am truly enjoying vetting the books I check out from the library, so as to set myself up for success, interspersing fiction with non-, current with older, popular with classic.  Find me on Goodreads if you wish, and check out the sidebar on my home page to see what I'm reading... 💗

As is tradition, five items below of beauty, interest, and humor to brighten your day/weekend/week.  Enjoy!  


~ Broadway Continues to Keep the Lights On:  Theatres across the country may currently be silent, but in every Broadway house, a lamp sits centerstage burning bright. It's called a ghost light, and it's a tradition that goes back to the late 1800s.  CBS Sunday Morning speaks with members of the Broadway community about how we are keeping the lights on during this dark time, onstage, and in our hearts.


~ This Pickle Is a Cake:  Welcome to the viral world of hyper-realistic cake slicing videos.


~ Alex Trebek Is Still in the Game:  In his new memoir, the longtime “Jeopardy!” host delivers clues and facts about himself, and looks back on his life as he struggles with advanced pancreatic cancer.  (Despite the fact my friend Stephen thinks he is "smarmy", I have a long-time crush on AT:  not tall, which is my usual criteria, but smart with mischievous eyes.  Heads-up that I have asked my husband to buy this book for my upcoming birthday... :-) )


~ Greetings from BookCation:  Vacation is wherever your book is


~ Hamilton Act 1 but it's Muppets:  This is a fan-made parody. It is no way affiliated with The Muppets or Hamilton, and I claim no ownership of either. This is purely parody. (cast and tracklist included in link)



SONG:  I've Been Everywhere - Covid 19 version by Jonathan Byrd

BOOK:  Private Investigations: Mystery Writers on the Secrets, Riddles, and Wonders in Their Lives by Victoria Zackheim

POEM:  first, we have to start with nothing by Maya Stein

We have to wake, nakedly, from the place of dreams. We have to stumble from the sheets
and gape, slack-mouthed, at the morning ahead, our feet shoddy on the floorboards.
We have to pitch into an empty kitchen, hands clawing toward a clean mug.
We have to feel shaken from what we’d carried, our bones awkward with the
unburdening that sleep was, everything that had looked so certain, so clear, even
when we knew it wasn’t. We have to squint against the sharpness of this rough canvas
of a day, the questions that scratch impolitely before we are ready to listen. We have to
remember how small we really are, how permeable. We have to linger in this raw reality
before the task of proving ourselves can begin. We have to marry what we wish we could
abandon forever. We have to be willing to save ourselves again and again and again.

QUOTE:  "Let's cultivate our capacity to be astonished... to be thrilled by every subtle mystery that sneaks into our daily rhythm... to make ourselves
fully available for the unexpected riddles that life is always setting in front of us." ~ Rob Brezsny