The New Reality

Selfie - hugging a tree in the Sierra Nevadas

I had five targeted doses of radiation over ten days in late June, during which I turned 63. I'm not feeling the latent fatigue they forecast, though I experienced it during treatment. Then I started the medication designed to reduce risk of recurring breast cancer or developing metastatic cancer if I take it five years, called anastrozole. At first I thought I was lucky -- no noticeable side effects in the first couple weeks. Alas, a month in, I'm experiencing what the obliteration of estrogen does to the body. Most prominent is joint pain, sore muscles, and stiffness all over. I feel it especially in my hands and wrists. This brings me back to the misery of my pre-weight loss era; I had so enjoyed pain-free movement the last few years. I experience restless legs while trying to fall asleep, as well as 4 a.m. awakenings. My thoughts are slower -- brain fog. And I feel, on a cellular level, an absence of energetic capacity. The shrunken reserve requires careful choices and an acceptance of the current reality, so I feel some grief too. I have a good life. What's occurring to me is normal. Aging happens, health declines, or is otherwise compromised. I don't love it. Then I look up from writing and glimpse six-point buck wandering through the yard! He lingered long enough to delight me. I hear my child singing upstairs in this rented cabin. No sweeter gift than that.

A Favorite Time In My Life

Time is such a notion, isn't it? We humans use a system to organize our experience into past, present, and future, which is useful psychologically and for conducting life's business. When I am creating, however, time disappears for me. So I suppose that a favorite time in my life is whenever I am not experiencing time consciously. That's kind of trippy to me. Whenever I'm writing, such as this post, or making art, or reading, or even hiking or sitting in the woods, that is my favorite time of my life. When I have an engaging conversation with a friend over a meal and my heart feels connected and expansive, that is a favorite time of my life.

I do have gauzy memories of other experiences in the past that felt like this. Camping trips with my family as a little girl, where I played endless imagination games or swam for hours at a lake. And yes, I have memories that are not favorite, that involve pain and suffering, and for me those are always more vivid, and they demand center stage. Over the years I've developed a practice to turn my attention away from them and to deliberately focus on the good. I don't judge or block the negative, yet I try to give what is positive equal attention.

This applies to future, too. I'm very adept at doom thinking and worries, and I've rarely been a dreamer about future plans and aspirations -- it's as if I'm afraid if I dare dream of something I want, "something" will call it arrogance and teach me a lesson by not manifesting that. I know this is rooted in several things: my personality, which is inherently attuned more to negatives; an authoritarian father who wielded power destructively in childhood (and adulthood, to be honest); and a religious upbringing focused on sin, humans being inherently broken, guilt, and fear of punishment. So I have spent my life navigating and learning how to live in a way that allows me more "favorite" times. At 63, I'm getting better at it. 

Happy Independence Day!

I want to celebrate something today, and this story is definitely at the top of my list. Kelsey Pfendler just rowed all by herself, unassisted, from Monterey to Hawaii, over 2,400 miles! She did it in 43 days, which means she broke the record for speed for all genders (that's 50-55 miles a day!). She turned 32 during the trip. She's the youngest person and first American woman to do this. In the process, she raised money for a nonprofit that provides mental and physical health services to Grand Canyon river guides, The Whale Foundation. Her Facebook videos through her trip are uplifting and educational. I figure this is a reason to celebrate the 4th. 

In her last video on the water, she encouraged people to take the risk and do the big, hard, scary thing standing between them and a dream. I'm reminded that when I was 31 (1994), my big hard scary thing was moving sight unseen over 1,800 miles from Syracuse, NY, to Austin, TX with no job or abode secured. I disposed of many possessions to lighten my load and shipped some boxes to my brother. I paid off my car loan and loaded up my little Blue Belle. Then I drove into a new life. The big hard scary things didn't stop once I arrived. It took several years to gain a sense of stability, belonging, and confidence. The next big hard scary thing I did was quit my job and go to graduate school to become a psychotherapist. That was a project. I graduated in 1999, and received my license in 2003. 

These feats put me on a trajectory toward a life I had scarcely dreamed I could have. We can do hard things!

This quote is what I referred to repeatedly as I prepared to move to Texas. 

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. I have learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets:
Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now.”

- William Hutchison Murray,The Scottish Himalayan Expedition

I Am

 

I Am

The fox cannot help being stealthy.
The rose cannot help being thorny.
The sun cannot help being fiery.
And I cannot help being Kathryn.
Even in my sleep, I dream of creating.
Even in my sadness, I love my life.
I swim in the rivers of my curiosity.
I climb through the mountains of my awe.
I travel for years and years.
And on the other side
is Kathryn, beautiful Kathryn,
her vibrant energy reverberating in the world.

-Kathryn Harper

Foxy Neighbors

Okay, terrible picture because I was so far away. But this morning around 11 a.m. I look up from my desk and who do I see but one of the kits! I observed her avidly watching the birds on the lawn searching for bugs. (Birds are aware though, not likely in danger.) 

Every single night this week they have rambunctiously chased around the yard. All night. No complaints here, but it is vexing because I can hardly see them!

My neighbor sent this photo from his side of the fence. Adorable. Cuddled for a nap. 

Celebration!

On this, my 63rd birthday, nature's gift to me is the delight of three gray foxes in my back yard. We noticed one fox June 4, and my husband saw two last week. This morning all three were scampering around the yard. They are moving between my neighbor's yard (where I think they have a den) and ours. This photo is not high quality; they move so fast. I think it's a mom and kits. 

As best as I can tell, this is the Townsend's Gray Fox, a subspecies of gray fox that lives in northern California and Oregon. We live close to the foothills of Santa Cruz mountains. The hills a mile away have coyotes, deer, turkeys, rattlesnakes, and mountain lions (rare but there). Mountain lions and coyotes prey on the fox, so it makes sense they are denning farther away. We have rats (that like to eat the fruit from trees), so I don't mind having the foxes around. It has never happened in all the years I've lived in this house, and it feels incredibly precious to witness this. 

This morning I have a doctor appointment, and this afternoon I have a radiation treatment. Welcome to the sixties! (Not really. I've noticed an upward trend in medical visits over the past five years or so.) People ask if I'm doing something special. Nope! I don't need to. As long as it's a good day, with moments of joy and savoring, it's special enough. 

I received two birthday cards (from husband and son) that were perfectly chosen, as well as some gifts. One of the gifts being an array of circle punches ranging in diameter from 3 inches to .3 inch. I look forward to cutting and playing with circles and making collages. I will encircle the world!

The other gift is a new fitness band of a different brand (Garmin), since the Fitbit I was using kept flaking out. And we all know the unmeasured life is not worth living! (Joke!) It's been a useful tool in becoming more healthy and maintaining. Some of us just do better when we keep track of ourselves.

I'm thinking this evening I'll have a backyard fire in the fire pit. I love a good campfire. It's Midsummer! I'm celebrating the light and life.

On Target

Today I received my first targeted radiation treatment. Because the cancer was caught so early and was so small, I'm eligible for partial breast radiation rather than whole breast. I have a total of five sessions, another benefit of early detection. The process took ten minutes, and I felt nothing but appreciation. 

I appreciate how something that could kill me can, in the right dose and delivery method, improve my healthspan. I appreciate the scientific method and the curiosity of humans who pursue questions and hypotheses that lead to such discoveries. 

I appreciate my life.

A Garden Story

I wrote this for a snail mail swap project with a theme of "writing about your garden." The photos were unwieldy for the email, so I've posted the letter here. Please note, if you want to see a bigger photo just click on it in the blog post. Also, I am in garden zone 9b (San Jose), meaning it rarely falls below freezing and provides a long growing season. It falls in the Heat Zones 7 or 8 (about 60 to 120 days of extreme heat per year). Because USDA zones do not account for coastal fog or ocean breezes, the specific UC Master Gardeners of Santa Clara County highly recommend checking the Sunset Climate Zones. San Jose is primarily Zone 14 or 15 (which accounts for the mild Mediterranean climate with marine air).

Dear PK and RR,

I joined this swap after reading the note of encouragement to do so, when it was made clear that having a Better Homes and Gardens quality garden was not required. 

I am, despite many years of aspiration, not a gardener. I'm the daughter of master gardeners who has made many attempts but lack the discipline to persist. At least when it comes to gardening. Below is a recent photo of my backyard. Typically in the summer drought it's brown (we don't water the grass, to conserve), and it grows hugely during rainy season. I mowed it once a few months ago after it was 3 feet tall, and drat, it grew again! A bout of illness prevented me from mowing again. Here is what it looked like until last weekend. We had several volunteer trees that had grown by the orange tree, and weeds taller than my husband on the side yard. (My husband has for years taken care of the front yard in an effort to not be a blight on the neighborhood, but he has no love for gardening either.)

It made a wonderful little meadow for many birds and lizards, but the grass that grows produces seeds with needle-tip points that catch on clothes. Ouch! Our visitors include raccoons, opossums, rats, squirrels, and neighborhood cats. Birds in my yard include Mourning Dove, Western Screech Owl, Great Horned Owl, Anna's Hummingbird, American Crow, Northern Mockingbird, Cedar Waxwing, Chestnut-backed Chickadee, Bewick's Wren, Dark-eyed Junco, California Towhee, House Sparrow, House Finch, and Brown-headed Cowbird. 

However, on June 4 (my son's high school graduation day), we had an auspicious visitor using our yard as a day spa -- a California gray fox! We live near the foothills of the Santa Cruz mountains and wildlife is only about 1 mile away. In all 16 years of living in this house, this is the first time a fox visited. 

He or she lounged in the yard about an hour. I've heard it said the foxes are dog hardware that runs on cat software. I hadn't known until that day that they (gray foxes) can climb trees and fences, as their wrists rotate!

Anyhow, I finally broke down and hired someone to come out and clean up the yard, and I will have him come routinely from now on to mow and blow. Here's what it looks like now and what was dragged to the street. And hope rises eternally in me. I can feel my aspirational gardener thinking, "Now that we've hired someone do maintain it and to help with special projects like mulching, trimming, and managing the sprinkler system, I might tend to it more..."

Even though I'm a crap gardener, I do appreciate flowers. Below are some photos I took of flowers in my parents' garden in past years. They are no longer alive, and I like to think their energy is now flowing into all growing things. 

My parents had many decorative signs in their garden. One was a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson from the poem Hamatreya, "The earth laughs in flowers." The other sign was a stanza from a poem by Dorothy Frances Gurney: 

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.

Wishing you a vibrant Litha and a joyous summer season!

Warmly,

MindfulOne/Kathryn

My Love List

 

I recently participated in a swap where the project was to write a highly descriptive list of things I love. I received a beautifully poetic one from my partner in China. I sent mine to my assigned recipient in Canada. I figured it would be nice to share it here. 

My Love List – from MindfulOne

1. The several dozen different birds that sing me awake each morning. Even the damn crows, who start a ruckus at 5 a.m. Oh, and the owls I hear at night.
2. Puns! I love sneaking a pun into conversation, the reactions I get. I love reading puns aloud, and I love that some of them make me laugh hysterically (especially “naughty” ones).
3. Ribeye steak cooked medium is deeply savory and delightful. My husband cooks them perfectly.
4. The redwood forest, especially the old growth ones, where I can feel the centuries in the atmosphere as I hike through.
5. Taking walks to the local turtle pond; sometimes I see turtles, or ducks, and always the overgrown koi. Several times I’ve seen a wild turkey – one even flew up into a tree.
6. Strong black coffee in the morning; black tea with honey in the afternoon.
7. How I feel after I’ve done a strong cardio session on the elliptical or a hearty walk – strong, clear, vibrant, connected intimately with life.
8. Ambient, instrumental, meditative music; folk music; eclectic alternative; trip-hop music; so many kinds of music that I listen to daily that helps me create and work.
9. Losing myself in hours of flow when I paint, draw, collage, and write.
10. I love my husband, who is my best friend and life’s gift to me.
11. I love my child, whose existence has also taught me the importance of mothering myself, and who is also life’s gift to me.
12. Chocolate, mostly dark.
13. Baskin Robbins Love Potion #31 ice cream: a seasonal white chocolate and raspberry ice cream infused with raspberry swirls, chocolate chips, and raspberry filled hearts. I love especially that my local store orders enough to serve beyond February, into the end of April.
14. Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey Ice cream.
15. Camping, seeing national parks, and big campfires that last late.
16. Reading books of all kinds, ones that teach me and ones that entertain.
17. I love babies; they are so fresh and innocent, having just emerged into the world; they evoke a fierce energy in me to protect and cherish, and it feels like connection with something holy.
18. Sunny days and clear skies with enough cool to maybe need a sweater.
19. Rainy days that wash the streets clean and feel cozy.
20. Seasons: I grew up with experiencing four seasons and now experience roughly two where I live now.
21. Dancing, especially something called Ecstatic Dance, which is a free-form movement practice in a safe space with no alcohol, no shoes, no talking on the dance floor, in order to experience the joy of being.
22. Afternoon naps.
23. Cats and rabbits (I’ve had both as pets); really any animal that is friend-shaped.
24. Deep conversation over coffee with friends.
25. Looking for and finding beauty.

Encouragement

Encouragement

Let yourself be the earth and the days be weather.

Storms come, but they pass. Do not follow them.

Enjoy the sun. Notice the bees kiss the flowers

while you listen to a crow shout her opinions to the world.

What a gift, to be!!

-Kathryn Harper

Say Good Morning

What do you do 

when you head into the morning 

to pick dandelion leaves for the rabbit, 

and you meet a

pea-sized spot of joy on a plant?

-Kathryn Harper

Sometimes I Get the Zoomies

Sometimes when I have sessions with clients I internally experience what I call the zoomies. This is a term those of us with pet rabbits use (along with binkies) to describe a frisky, frenetic state we sometimes observe in them. It's a high energy expression that I interpret as sheer joy. In my situation, it's an emotional, spiritual, existential event.

It arises from the interaction I have with a client, when my heart feels connected to theirs, when I am flooded with gratitude to be in the room with them, in this role, doing what I've been gifted and trained to do: to serve in ways that help the person heal and grow. Sometimes this feeling brings me to the point where I feel close to tears. Another word for what I feel is love.

How fortunate I am! I'm grateful to life, and I'm grateful to myself for persevering through all the obstacles and challenges over the years to establish myself in this role. And lastly, I'm grateful for my husband, whose steadfast company and material provision over many years sustained me while I took a detour from the profession to immerse myself in motherhood and other experiences, before I wound my way back to this role.

“Footloose” by Porsupah Ree, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Noticing

I was cleaning the sink the other evening, and when I pulled the stopper out of the soapy water, this large bubble was attached.

Naturally I whipped out my cell phone to take some photos. I like this one best (despite the shadow of my finger in the lower corner), because the reflective iridescence is beautiful. I see the kitchen windowpane at the top, and other indiscernible objects from the counter. It lasted several minutes; then a subtle shift in the air breached the bubble and *pop*, it was gone. 

I would categorize this as a glimmer -- a moment of fascination and joy. 

Dance With Me

                     

Dance With Me

There I stood, waiting for the express
While pondering ways to renew
my flagging spirit, which struggled to climb
life's mounting challenges, when I saw you, serene,
your hands moving in the air, a kind of dance --
the glorious joy on your face making you rich.

Gazing around, I noticed the world's colors were rich.
In each person I sensed the soul's desire to express, 
to enter into the dance.
I felt that I could summon the energy to renew
and make myself serene
like an arbor trellis with those roses that climb.

To reach far, to stretch toward goals that require I climb --
this makes life worthwhile, and I feel rich.
In these moments, my heart beats serene.
I vibrate with life and tremble to express,
to evolve, to embrace impermanence and thus renew
life's eternal dance.

So, which steps will we choose to dance?
Will it be the hustle, the two-step, the fandango climb?
Or maybe a slow waltz, to allow our breathing to renew
while rhythmically moving to the beat, slow and rich.
Perhaps we will lean in to share a kiss, to express
what tantalizes us as we attempt to appear serene.

We might do this under the silver light of the moon, serene
in the movement of the dance
and the people watching -- their murmurs will express
how desire steeps, distills, intensifies, like the climb
of mercury trapped in a glass tube, the red rich
as blood, like the lungs give oxygen to renew.

And after we untwine ourselves, we turn within to renew
the relationship with the One who never leaves, the serene
companion who understands money does not make one rich;
nor does having it guarantee an invitation to the dance
and that life is often one painful, slogging climb
to an illusory summit that cannot contain all we express.

Form and emptiness express all that is, a serene

invitation to renew your energy and dance with life.

Free from need to delve or climb, rich beyond measure.

-Kathryn Harper  

Appreciating Glimmers

I've been known to pack away my favorite Ben & Jerry's flavor, Chunky Monkey, every once in awhile. I can pretty much get that any time. However, every year in February I await the return of one of my favorite treats, the Baskin Robbins flavor of the month: Love Potion #31. It's a decadent white chocolate and raspberry ice cream, infused with raspberry swirl, chocolate chips, and little chocolate hearts filled with raspberry. I try to enjoy is several times throughout the month. This is a small joy, a glimmer, that I appreciate returning every year. 

Implacably Aloof

"At the start of this quest, I had no way of imagining that long after it was over I would still be struggling to formulate a coherent response to the miseries the canyon inflicted on us, the satisfactions that would later overtake the memories of that misery, or the yearning and splendor that transcended them all. I had no way to fathom the force with which the canyon's austerity, its grandeur, and its radiance -- traits that stand implacably aloof to human hopes and ambitions -- can impart a perspective that will enable you to see yourself as nothing more, and nothing less, than a grain of sand amid the immensity of rock and time and the stars at night."

-Kevin Fedarko, A Walk in the Park: the True Story of a Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon

Full Circle

 

Full Circle

You held your infant daughter
in your arms
agonizing, cajoling,
willing your love to her.
This baby expected
perfection--
that you read her mind
and provide
every need, every want.
Sometimes that infant
arises now,
and your daughter rails
against you
for not possessing omniscience.

You jiggled your toddler daughter
on your lap
as she laughed,
singing to her,
calling her your "little Punkin."
This half-pint drank
your love
as a thirsty babe
guzzles the milk of life into every cell.
Sometimes that toddler
gazes now
with adoration for her infinite
mother
content and whole in her trust.

You watched your teenage daughter
from afar
as she brooded,
wishing her victory
over that devil called depression.
This young woman envied
your detachment
and accused you
of confusing her
and burdening her beyond control.
Sometimes that girl-woman
rages now
crying, wondering where
you hid
your secret fountain of peace.

You love your grown daughter
with all your life
as she strives,
reaching to her
with the gift of friendship.
This woman recognizes
your humanity
and gently removes you
from the pedestal
to a place in her heart.
Sometimes this woman
perceives now
that though we are family
we can meet
somewhere in the middle. 

-Kathryn Harper

One Afternoon

One Afternoon

Bellied up to the kitchen counter
I bite into a pear and chew,
watching the empty hammock shimmy
in the yard. The wind sweeps gray
cotton balls overhead, rushing
them to some destination eastward.
Rubies and topaz fall from tree
branches. I stare, mesmerized,
as juice drips from my chin.

-Kathryn Harper

“The Perfect Pear” by David Gallagher, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 

Neighborhood Activism

 

I'll begin this post with the standard disclaimer that I do not support or encourage anyone breaking the law and putting graffiti up in public places. I'll say, as well, that I have seen visually gorgeous and compelling graffiti on occasion, especially that of Banksy. But don't do it, 'kay?

And yet, someone in my neighborhood recently went around spraying "FUCK TRUMP" in vivid red on utility boxes, walls, and other places -- one of them being the stop sign limit line at an intersection two blocks from me. Another place I saw it was on a construction fence near me, where a massive Kaiser addition is being built. I waited a day to grab a photo and it had been painted over, but I took a photo and can still see the underlying message. 

I admit to feeling a zing of satisfaction and solidarity that someone has decided their activism involves painting the world with a repudiation of this man, what he represents, and all the harm he has committed. Thank you, mystery neighborhood activist! Well done.

When the ICE agent is Canadian… | This Hour Has 22 Minutes

This is your feel-good video for the day!