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

Awaiting Test Results

Awaiting Test Results

My name is Self (or Me-myself And I).
Today I feel like a held breath
waiting in the throat.
Sometimes I am a work of art.
Sometimes I am a tangled mess.
But always I am curious.
I ask the world, “How did I waste so much time?”
And the answer is

a held breath waiting in the throat.

--Kathryn Harper

A Glimmer For Today

Hello! I'd like to introduce you to Sydney. They are in the lower left corner of this photo.

Many years ago I was quite phobic about spiders. I'm talking about not being able to sleep if I saw a spider in my bedroom, visceral physical reactions of disgust at seeing one, and intense terror. I loved reading Charlotte's Web and understood intellectually how helpful they were. But this couldn't get past my lizard brain response.

In my 20s I began to work on shifting this. I made myself look at them more closely if I saw them outdoors. I worked on talking myself down to a calmer state. Rather than killing them when I found them at home, I began to rescue and release them. I still had the heebie jeebies with some of the bigger ones. If I found one in the car I'd probably melt down. But for the most part I've gotten over the phobia.

I'm not a passionate or dedicated housekeeper. Dusting feels pointless. The house is neat but a bit cobwebby around the corners. Last September a spider established a small home base on the kitchen sink window. We had a problem with fruit flies in October, and Sydney was quite helpful resolving it. They began to weave a more elaborate home, and I decided as long as it remained confined to the windowsill I would leave it be.

And here we are, six months later. Sydney remains, and the sill is strewn with little carcasses of prior meals. I'm not sure how long spiders live but am impressed how much time has elapsed with Sydney at the sill. I would never have envisioned me allowing this years ago.