Sea Lion Day

Today I'm counting on these lovable sea lions to help me through the day. In case I find myself feeling frustrated or things feel out of my control, I want to think of the look in their eyes as they play with each other and bark and smile and wrap around each other innocently, with such joy.

Happy day!

Morning Page – Spring Day in Winter

 “Life is like an ice cream cone…

You have to learn to lick it!”
--Charlie Brown

Yesterday for my lunch break I went to the library to take some books back and to pick up one I had on hold. It feels a little late to read it now that Christmas has passed, but then again a Christmas spirit without the materiality and media is nice to carry always. The book is called The Man Who Invented Christmas: How Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol Rescued his Career and Revived Our Holiday Spirits (2008) by Les Standiford. I finished A Christmas Carol in December and loved every word of it. I also started reading A Tale of Two Cities on Kindle. I was immediately hooked and love the language. The first part was clear to me and I could see the details of the characters and setting and it made sense to me. However, I am a little bogged down by the second part so far. I’m certain that it will come together for me as I continue reading.

When I left home yesterday I decided to take my camera. I grabbed it and attached it to the satchel I carry around as my purse. When I took my lunch break, I decided I would go in search of a 2012 calendar for work—one of the daily calendars. I usually try to get to the stores and purchase them at 50% off. As I walked, I couldn’t believe what a nice day it was. The air didn’t feel icy like it has and the brisk pace of my walking was making me feel warm. It was like a spring day in winter.  I told the day how beautiful it was and smiled up at the sky. I had my camera with me but I didn’t see anything that I wanted to snap. When I got to the store, there weren’t many calendars left. Last year there were. I left with nothing. I had stopped into another small store before that. Nothing. I was determined. As I wound my way back, there was one last store. They had about five calendars and only one daily calendar. I wanted one then and there and I liked that it was a Zen calendar. It was the last one. I ended up paying full price.

I usually have a few daily calendars around my desk area. Back at work, I decided to quickly hop onto Amazon.com and search for The Booklovers Calendar. Then I saw there was a word origins calendar. I added it to my cart. After checkout, it didn’t look like the word origins calendar was available. I didn’t want to wait and have it not show up. I canceled that one and tried to find something humorous in its place. I settled on The Argyle Sweater Calendar. Both calendars were 50% off but with tax and shipping, it all evened out. I was relieved to have my one calendar already and two on the way.

The end of the day came and I walked to the car. The sunset was gorgeous. Muted amber tones. I took my camera out and began snapping. I needed to go to the grocery store before home. As I continued driving, the sunset colors changed. They became a molten ruby red. I pulled over to the side of the dark road. I snapped away. For an amateur photographer such as myself, the images don’t necessarily transfer the way I saw them with my own eyes. This one though feels close.

A few months back I purchased Chat Pack: Fun Questions to Spark Conversations. Here’s one of the questions: “If you were making a list of the five things (not people!) that make you happiest in your life, what five things would you write down?” 

The sunset—nature is definitely on my list of five.

Random Musings ~ First Blog of 2012

Writing has been missing. I’ve missed writing in general, except for the few words that I’ve jotted down in randomness. I’ve missed Red Room. I’ve missed coffee. Today was my first cup of caffeinated coffee since about a month ago when I thought I’d experiment with taking it away. I have purposefully not made any New Year’s resolutions. I think I will continue working on myself—my interior world. I can see why it gets harder and harder as we age; and I can also see how it can reach a middle point and feel fine. I can see how it feels like a teeter totter—life that is—the constant balance seeking, of maintaining some sort of equilibrium, all the while trying to stay true to oneself and not becoming hard, but maintaining a sense of softness, maintaining that soft glow in your eye as you look upon the dandelion floating through the sky and letting it nestle right in your heart and carry you on and open your lens to more and more of life’s subtle beauties.

This morning I decided to make a pasta salad using multi-colored spiral pasta for our lunchtime snacks. I added red onion, celery, olives, red bell pepper and mixed it with a vinaigrette dressing. As I was cutting the bell pepper, my mind began writing and even though yesterday is when I realized that writing—that in part is my lifeblood—was absent. Maybe it needed a break of its own. As I waited for the coffee to finish brewing, I anticipated my first sip and I knew I would sit down and write this morning because coffee and writing go together and spark my fire. I knew I needed to show up at the page because the longer I waited, the more time would build for me to talk myself out of it—to fall into a rut of self-consciousness.

The other day while I was sitting in the car, waiting for the engine to warm up—because my uncle told me it was a good idea to warm it up so all the fluids get up and around in the machinery. It will run smoother and I won’t put a strain on the car, he said—it’s really a small truck, but I prefer to refer to it as a car. And it does make a difference. When I go too soon, it’s harder to go into second gear. I feel bad because sometimes it will make a horrible noise. I’ve been driving stick shifts for a long time, but at times shifting into second gear makes me feel like I just learned.

So this little snippet is what I wrote that morning:

Waiting for the car to warm up, listening to an audio book, my attention drifts to movement caught out of the corner of my eye. I look and there are two squirrels playing, rounding the tree, shaking their bushy tails. I then look forward again; the light shines on the leaves in the tree in front of me. The soft breeze shakes the leaves in a way that makes them look like gold coins dancing on the beach, planting a smile on my face. At this point, not much time has passed, but sitting here tapping it out to catch the moment, it feels like lots of time has inched by. I had to rewind the audio on the Kindle. The narrator was talking about memory and how we reach a point where we know we're forgetting and we have choices: We can let it go; we can force ourselves to remember—or at least try; we can research for further prompting where eventually the memory will come back to us in our sleep or some other random point.

The squirrels have moved on. The tree is still there. The sun has shifted away from the golden coin tree. The car idles in a way that says its time to go.

**

Yesterday I feel like I had a mini breakthrough. It may have helped to talk about it out loud, but something shifted in me. A part of me that since my mini “meltdown” as I refer to it has finally begun to release itself from me. It had put a bit of a damper on my being, partially because I don’t like losing control, especially with my emotions. The irony is that when others lose their emotional control with me they might apologize because they feel bad, I tell them it’s all right. You need to let it out. This happens every now and then where it has nothing to do with me. I just happen to be an understanding ear. And at these times, I feel good that I am able to be there for them—just in my presence and in letting them know I hear them and I understand and that it’s all right.

**

And so, this is my first blog of 2012 and I feel optimistic about this year. I like the curves of two 2’s like bookends holding a zero and a one together snuggly in the center. And then I can imagine these four numbers up on a trapeze—a 2 with a 0; and a 2 with a 1, grabbing hold side by side each pair on opposite ends, joining in the center. That’s how I see 2012 in this moment.

**

I raise my glass or in the case of this morning, I raise my coffee cup to you and wish you health and peace and happiness for this year of 2012.

Wishing you all rainbows and sunshine! :)

**

This photo was taken at the Japanese Gardens in Hayward.

December Night

December Night

Happy puppy licking the back window. The sun that rose in the bedroom window this morning, I see up over the hill as I drive in the opposite direction, it now sets--a large burnt tangerine globe going down the mountain. I pass the tree lot. Lights around the perimeter glow softly. Families scurrying to find the perfect tree. What happens to those trees that remain I always wonder. Back into the earth they came from--mulch, I suppose. The cold in the air clips my nose. The stark trees silhouetted, stark naked, sharing the space with other trees that still hold their autumn foliage close to their breast. It is the season of holiday lights and people running around in good cheer and the crows harking in the background. And to all a good night.

**

I originally wrote this on December 8. I was driving to the store the long way and the calm affect of the drive opened me to the night. The puppies are what got me and the everything was filled with emotion after that. I wanted to pull over but there wasn't anywhere and I was nearing my destination. I pulled into the parking lot and pulled out my iPod Touch and began tapping out my musings. I kept them the way they flowed out--without edits.

This is an unrelated photo of nighttime-- unrelated in the sense that it was a different day. 

Happy Day & Writing and Creating!

Random ~ Trying to Capture the Days ~ Catharsis

I’ve never been one for holiday music, not in a humbug way. But one year I did download an Elvis Christmas and another compilation of festive music. I thought I would dig it up, put it in the CD player and see how I felt about it today. Well, I must say, I wasn’t in the mood for it and when it finished, I felt as though I had enough holiday music. I was at my computer paying bills and on the phone with the cable provider to see if I could get a better deal since the current one expired, bringing the cost of the bill higher than I wanted it to be. So when the holiday music stopped, I opened iTunes and switched to some Jazz.

Yesterday I finished the last of my Christmas shopping and watched the traffic jam in the intersection as I waited for the sign to say WALK. I was glad I had found a parking space on the street and walked to my destination instead of trying to find parking where it seemed there were no empty spaces. I could hear the frustration through the honking horns and screeching tires as people tried to get home, while others most likely were in a mad scramble to get the last of their gifts.

Some time during last week I was walking to the store to drop off a UPS shipment for work. I seem to wear sweaters and sweatshirts wrapped around my waist often. And this particular morning I had a red cozy zipper fleece on and wrapped around my waist was a bright green zipper jacket. It felt festive, but it was also convenient. While I was walking, I saw a lady in her overall jeans and I started looking harder at what I realized were paint splatters on her jeans then I stole a glance at her and recognized her immediately. She said to me, I like your colors. I said thanks and then I said, “Your Blair, right?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “I used to work for a flower shop a long time ago and you used to paint our windows. I see your name around and I’m always happy to see you are still painting.”

She was tickled that I remembered and thanked me.  She had a mature exuberant glow about her and she truly seemed happy with life.

It was within that week, last week, that I also had a small “meltdown” at work. You know how when you try to “go with the flow”? Well, after some time, it catches up. One of my largest obstacles remains taking things personally. As my boss said, “You tend to personalize things, Rebbecca.” I listened as best I could. I conceded that yes that was true and I said it didn’t help that I was so sensitive. I told him how I felt, through sobs at our team meeting of three—in the restaurant no less. At first, my defensive reaction was, “I’m done. I can’t talk anymore.” It made it uncomfortable, so I tried to recover. That’s when the tears came and then frustration because he didn’t understand. For me, the most frustrating thing is when you have feelings that you feel and you try to explain them to someone because their behaviors add to your feelings. Everything ended fine, but as any woman knows, when your tears take over in the company of men at work, well, it’s an uncomfortable thing. The good thing is that I kept trying to explain as best I could without being accusatory and also owning my personality components and I felt like he finally “heard” me when he said, “I didn’t know you felt like that, Rebbecca. I’m truly sorry.” That was all I really needed—to be heard—that and an awareness of his behavior and its effects on the whole. Little things add up. I told him I know that I can’t expect him to change and at the same time I can try to “roll with it,”—but sometimes—

The other thing that has helped post small “melt down” is reading the book, Sybil. I had never fully known the details of the story, only the surface. It came up in conversation after a quick reference was made to it in a movie. My significant other asked about the reference and I told him what I knew, which was only that there was this real person who had many personalities and they made a movie about it. That was all I knew. I became more curious and checked the Amazon Kindle store for copies. They did not have one but they did have another book called SYBIL in her own words: The Untold Story of Shirley Mason, Her Multiple Personalities and Paintings. At that moment I became intrigued and decided I would get the book Sybil from the library because I wanted to read that first. It came and I could not put it down. I’ve always been fascinated with anything having to do with the psyche. It was hard to fathom a person who dissociated into separate personalities to cope—separate personalities that each had their own memories, their own experiences, their own outward physical appearances and speech patterns. And all the while, the main person, whom we know as Sybil, not being aware of any of the separate personalities due to her “losing time,” as she would dissociate to such a degree due to the abuse she endured in her childhood, that the other personalities would take over.

How did this help me? First, I don’t want to undermine the severity of this complex. By reading this story, however, it helped me realize something about my relationships with certain personalities—or rather reinforced what I knew. Reading Sybil gave me more to work with. I do not do well with strong personalities that I feel try to overpower me or have a cruel tone and once I reach a point, I start becoming more defensive, sometimes louder, defending myself, being prompted just by a look from them. Something in me detaches and matches the behavior coming at me or develops behavior that makes me feel in control. It made me revisit my reactions in general and take a harder look at some things that I hadn’t quite considered with my own past. I felt as thought there were pieces that made more sense in a way that I think I’ve always had a sense of, but didn’t quite have certain pieces. It made me also feel more compassion toward my mother for the pain that she must have felt and not knowing how to deal with it.

I noticed there is another book on Amazon that questions the truthfulness of the book Sybil and whether the doctor’s behavior was ethical. All I can say is that the story touched me immensely and it was good of Shirley Mason to share her story and to bring awareness when the book came out 1973. I have not seen any of the movies, but plan to sometime soon.

And so this morning as I was paying bills on the computer I started getting a little down at the credit card debt. I took a deep breath, tried to bring myself into focus, looked up at my inspirational corkboard and my heart and soul received what it needed from Mother Theresa. I read it to myself quietly and then read it aloud so I could hear the words.

Lastly, this is a photo of our little Victorian Village. My significant other was at the thrift store and found this set. I was surprised when he brought it home and showed me. He was so excited that he found it and that it was such a good deal. It was only $12. What a bargain indeed. He helps me to be more festive and grounded. He also bought our first Christmas tree. It’s cute and a little slanted.

Wishing you all peace and happiness; and strength and resilience for handling the kaleidoscope of emotions that make us human.

Rebb

“Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
Life is beauty, admire it.
Life is a dream, realize it.
Life is a challenge, meet it.
Life is a duty, complete it.
Life is a game, play it.
Life is a promise, fulfill it.
Life is sorrow, overcome it.
Life is a song, sing it.
Life is a struggle, accept it.
Life is a tragedy, confront it.
Life is an adventure, dare it.
Life is luck, make it.
Life is too precious, do not destroy it.
Life is life, fight for it.”

—Mother Teresa

Desert Loom

Two books popped into my head: Willa Cather’s, Death Comes for the Archbishop and Paul Bowles’s The Sheltering Sky. A third book came later: Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist.

I came to The Sheltering Sky because I was reading something—an article maybe—and the actor, Ethan Hawke, listed it as one of his favorites. I admired Ethan Hawke and I still do. If not for finding it that way, I may not have come to this book. If I had seen it on a shelf, I may not have been interested. I remember the odd triangular relationship of the characters, the African desert looming, pushing down, having a profound effect on the characters as they each struggled with their own feelings of isolation and maybe even hopelessness. It’s been years since I read this book and I don’t know how well my memory recalls the details. I know that the language swept me in and something held me there through the end. I know that it had enough of an affect on me to stay planted in my memory.

Another book that I may not have read except that it was one of the books for a class that I took is Willa Cather’s Death Comes for the Archbishop.

The desert played a prominent character, the villages—the whole Southwestern landscape. A part of the book that has stayed with me is when they are trying to reach “The Rock.” I still have my book with underlined passages and reminder notes and here is one small excerpt that still sends me chills of truth:

The rock, when one came to think of it, was the utmost expression of human need; even mere feeling yearned for it; it was the highest comparison of loyalty in love and friendship. Christ Himself had used that comparison for the disciple to whom He gave the keys of His Church. And the Hebrews of the Old Testament, always being carried captive into foreign lands,—their rock was an idea of God, the only thing their conquerors could not take from them. (pg. 97)  

It was a difficult book for me to get through. The writing is beautiful and dense. I would read mouthfuls of description, and as much as I admired the beauty in which Cather creates sentences and brings the characters and setting alive, I was drowning in it. And yet, I was so happy that I finished. It took a little while for the depth and beauty to really wash over me. It was a long journey literally and for me as a reader—An unforgettable book.

And last, one of my favorite books because it speaks to the dreamer and elemental in me: Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. This one I bought the first moment I saw it on the shelves and read the back cover. Again, the desert is a powerful character, along with the elements. Even the idea of a dream becomes itself a character and drives the story that is dependent upon the vast Egyptian desert, its inhabitants and nature her and him self. As the Shepard boy, Santiago, embarks on his journey he thinks to himself: “It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting” (pg. 13).

When these books were prompted into my awareness by this week’s blog topic, I had no idea that they would share in common the desert. I have always been in awe of the desert landscape, the way it seems like a dried up ocean that goes on forever and can seemingly swallow anyone who dares to enter. I love desert flowers and succulents, the colors, the way the sands ripple, the warmth, but it’s not a place that I have ever desired to travel except in books. Revisiting these books though, has made me think again and I realize it’s very possible that if I met the desert, I might just fall in love.

Odds & Ends

Sugar, Chocolate, and Sweet Breads

Yesterday I had to stop and get sugar for the office. I thought while I was at it, I would bring in a sweet treat. Not chocolate because the boss doesn’t know how to stop eating it and will eat and eat until he may get a bellyache. And the few others that may want some need to be quick; and they joke about it because they know. I keep the candy bowl on the front counter and he will sit there, unpeeling the chocolates, until there are only a few left. I scold him in a nice way, “D! You’re going to get sick eating too many.” He’ll stop and then when he has to go by again, he has to stop for a chocolate. But, I only rarely bring chocolate anymore because of his lack of restraint; and if I do bring chocolate, I try to put it out in small batches.

I saw that CVS had a variety pack of 16 individually wrapped Svenhard’s pastries. I thought this could probably last a few days. I then went down the Christmas isle to see if I could find a festive box to keep the pastries in our makeshift kitchen. We don’t really have a kitchen in the office. There is a long folding table with a microwave, coffee maker, postage meter, and shelves above the table for “kitchen” supplies. I found a cute pale blue box with snowmen. Perfect. I made the purchase, left the store, and drove away.

Waiting at the light, the wind started blowing really hard and the leaves were shaking like snow, rolling and twisting. I tried to bring my camera out and I did, but the light changed and I missed the shot.

Walking to work, I had my sweets in hand. I saw a man, that I occasionally see walking the crosswalk after work. He appears without a home and a tad disheveled and usually has a bag or two. Even sitting at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change, I can see time and toil in his face and his gait. Yesterday morning I saw this man sifting through the top layer of the trash can. Without thinking, I tore open the box of Svenhard’s and started to walk toward the man, but waited until he turned around. I approached him. His body slightly hunched over, but he was not that old. I held out the small sealed package with a bear claw and he eyed me, eyed the package, and in a gruff voice said, “What’s that?”

I too looked at the package. “It’s a bear claw,” I said.

I held it out for him to take. I was waiting for him to reject it, but instead he took it. I smiled. He held the same stern countenance; face ruddy with a scornful twist to it. We parted ways.

As I walked away I felt a small wave of emotion well up inside of me and it led me to a recent email that I received as part of being on an e-mail list for a small local store that sells jewelry, spiritual items, clothing, and many wonderful odds and ends.

In the email, N., the storeowner shared what was new in the store and current sales discounts. She also shared a recent exercise she came upon in her meditation book: Write down five things you are grateful for each morning and each evening. Don’t just think about it. Write it down. I thought I would give it a try and used one of my Apps to record the mornings and the evenings. It’s only been three days, but it feels like much longer. It’s possible I may continue with this ritual or be satisfied when it’s been a week and with the small inner shifts I’ve noticed in the short time.

Book Ends

I don’t recall seeing BookPage at the local library I usually go to. When I was in Carmel, I went into the library for a quick moment. They were closing, so I only had a few minutes. I saw the BookPage in paper format and took a copy. I was pleased to see that they also have an App for iPhone or iPod Touch. Hurray!

http://bookpage.com/

Here’s the link from the Apple AppStore description.

http://itunes.apple.com/app/bookpage/id459509236?mt=8

Another App I’ve enjoyed is Short Stories e-reader App from the Apple App Store. Free is always nice. I prefer reading on my Kindle e-reader to save my eyes, but this short story App has had some interesting short stories. It’s very easy to navigate and is visually easy on the eyes.

http://itunes.apple.com/us/app/short-stories-ereader/id350071517?mt=8

On of the short stories that I thoroughly enjoyed listed under their Top 20’s list is called Death by Scrabble by Charlie Fish. It’s only 4 pages long—on my iPod Touch that translates to 13 pages.

One of my favorite holiday shorts is O. Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. I may have eventually stumbled upon it, especially since it’s also on this App. But I first came across this short story when I asked a friend what some of her favorite short stories were and this was one of them. What a beautiful story.

Currently I am reading John Grisham’s Skipping Christmas on Kindle. I was in the mood for something Christmassy to read, yet not too serious and so far this is fitting. It’s made me laugh a lot. I’m half way through, so I have to see how it turns out.

Little Flower – Photo

I took this photo of a little yellow flower that I saw growing from inside the drain cover around a tree. She looks full of hope and happiness with her little yellow wings around a sturdy green shoot, that is her base and holds her head up high amongst the dried leaves and fresh moist soil.