The Freshman Deposit

This photo is me and my kiddo, Bean. It's the night before the big move-in day for college. An impromptu photo at the restaurant. Tuesday was move-in day and orientation. It went very well, though it was poignant and exhausting. My husband and I long ago had a "Babymoon" when I was five months pregnant (we'd never gotten a honeymoon). Since Bean is attending college in the Pacific Northwest, where we took the Babymoon, we reprised part of that on the drive home. And we decided to name this overall trip "The Freshman Deposit." Cuz we deposited him at school, and this whole endeavor is a deposit for his future. 

It's not a California summer road trip without construction and one-lane roads with long waits. We encountered eight of them in one day.

But the coastal redwoods sure are beautiful!

Now I'm home in this weirdly quiet house. It's not as though Bean made much noise, but I feel the absence of his energy profoundly. Mr. Aenigmas and I will need to develop a new normal. 

I suppose I could feel grateful that the foxes left a welcome home gift. Crow! (Ew.) Yes, at least one fox has remained and made our yard home. I see it sometimes wander through in the afternoon. Sigh. I really am grateful to live alongside wildlife even if I need to clean up gruesome gifts. (Sometimes they return to eat leftovers, but this looks like it had been around a few days.)

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

How I Read

 

I read a lot. My mind requires it, just as much as my body needs to breathe, and I need sleep, and to eat. 

I saw the image above on social media the other day, and it captured the essence of my reading style. I left a comment: "Yes! I think of reading as a kind of transubstantiation (if you're Catholic you'll grok the term). Something wonderfully mysterious happens in reading that changes me as a reader, and I don't completely have to understand or remember details for the experience to have a benefit."

I'm in the process of reading several novels, and as of the end of June I'll have read 28 books. My goal is 52, but I'll see how it goes. 

The three fiction standouts so far are Loved and Missed, James, and Orbital.

I read all of Andrea Gibson's poetry, and love Lord of the Butterflies the most.

My inner nerd thoroughly devoured The Devil's Teeth: a True Story of Obsession and Survival Among America's Great White Sharks. No open water swimming in the Pacific Ocean for me! 

And I read a book for a reading club that really aligned with an inner shift, and helped me to clarify goals. That book is Life in Five Senses: How Exploring the Senses Got Me Out of My Head and Into the World. With the ICE invasions and murders in Minnesota in January, I realized that my well-being relies on getting off social media and news sites. I became so aware that I don't want to be on my death bed regretting that I had not made more art. The book (which I listened to) alerted me to many small practices I can employ to actually live my life. Not long after this shift and reading the book, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Ok, universe, my dear AmoreVita, message received and action engaged.

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

From an exercise in Your Life As Story, Chapter 3: My Fairytale and Letter

The Ogre and the Girl Who Nevertheless Persisted

Once upon a time there was a girl who was born to an old-fashioned father in an era of feminism. Growing up she displayed aptitude for language and writing and did well academically. However, there were problems: she was raised in the Catholic church, in which females did not have a prominent role. She was drawn to religion even as a young child, but as she grew up her perception of God was shaped by her view of her father. Another problem was her parents’ perception of her ability, especially her father’s. She expressed interest in becoming a teacher; he negated it, saying there was a glut of teachers. She said she wanted to be a writer, a journalist, but was told she wasn't competitive enough to succeed. She revealed a desire to be a psychologist but was told she was too emotional. Because she could not declare without hesitation exactly what she wanted to do with her life that fell outside these three interests, because he was conservative and would not support her in pursuit of a liberal arts education, and because he had the money, she adjusted her educational goals to suit him.

In high school she became involved in a teen Catholic prayer group. She became a vocal, “born again” Christian, a role which defined her life for four years. She lived in dread of making mistakes. Her parents were experiencing relationship problems, notably her father launching into rages at her mother. The girl felt it was all because of her not being good enough, so she tried even harder to be good and perfect. Because of her eldest sister’s departure from college after one year, he would not allow her to go away to school. She received supportive feedback from teachers about her intellect, but felt there was no point because since age 12 her father told her he wouldn’t let her go away to school. Because of her second-eldest sister’s reneging on a parental loan for a car, he would not allow her to get her driver’s license while she lived under his roof. Her life was bound in negatives. In 1981 she applied to the community college under one major, human services; her father repeatedly told her she would only end up working in a welfare office, which sounded depressing. So before school started she switched to food service management, thinking it would at least provide a creative outlet. She quickly learned that cooking was not her passion and changed to business administration. She was miserable. She felt underused, dissatisfied, not academically challenged in any way. She had to take the bus two hours each way daily, or scrabble rides from classmates. After one year, she recognized the waste of time and money involved, and she told her father she would withdraw and seek work.

One week after informing him of her decision, he asked her if she’d gotten a job yet. She replied she had not, and he assumed she hadn’t been looking. He flew into a tirade about how he would not permit her to leech off of him. He stated she would have to start paying rent at $100 a month plus her own groceries. Shortly after, she found a job as a dental assistant that paid a low wage; she could not afford to move out of her parents’ house. After eight months the dentist decided to take a seven week vacation and laid her off. She quit (she needed income) and searched for another job. In 1983, desperate to become competitive in the job market, she entered a business school to pursue a degree in secretarial studies. She didn’t want to, but again, financial aid depended on her father, who only supported practical, clerical subjects for her; the government required he report his income to assess aid, and he resisted. She pushed and he relented, and she ended up borrowing $5,000 to fund this. The school was a diploma mill, not totally legitimate, and again, she loathed the classes. After six months she quit and, using the money from the loan, moved out on her own. She then got a job as a secretary at Syracuse University in 1984. It was an awful job, where the Dean of Students required females to wear skirts and dresses only, where she was given menial tasks and was rebuked for wanting to take on more work. She spent many hours looking busy, which exhausted her. 

Still unsure of what she wanted to study, and struggling with her sense of self and place in life, she meandered through the days. She had remitted tuition benefits, but she started courses and dropped them. After a year, she transferred to a job at the university library, where she immersed herself in reading and books. Her job bored her, and she barely made ends meet. However, she at least could wear jeans and casual clothes and spend many hours getting paid to read and research, which she did love. Gradually she became more serious about her education, and she grew stronger in her sense of ownership over her own life. She took courses she enjoyed and recognized the spark of intelligence within her. She decided in her mid-20s to study psychology, despite what her father would think. She knew it wouldn’t guarantee a job, but she also knew she had skills to at least feed herself. She wanted to study what she loved, a subject that engaged her and made her think. And despite the fact she’d lived on her own for over five years, she felt compelled to explain her decision in a letter to her father. She also wanted to go away to college and have the typical college experience.

In 1989, she applied to a couple of state colleges and was accepted. However, she had no savings. She would have to borrow student loans, but she didn’t know if that would be enough. Her father offered to provide some funding, a loan of $8,000, to be paid upon graduation. The conditions of the loan stated she could not marry, get pregnant, buy a vehicle, or take a vacation while in school, and that she would work temp jobs on her breaks. The arrangement of the loan filled her with foreboding, which she expressed to her mother. Her mother’s response was that if she really wanted the education, to swallow her pride and sign the contract. She did, with reluctance. Off she went, and she did well her first semester. In her second semester, concerned about the amount she borrowed and her father’s implied timeframe for repayment (within five years of graduation), she attempted to adjust her course load so she could graduate sooner. She and her brother were both home for spring break. Her proposal violated her father’s sense of the contract she had signed and was met with his rage and refusal; he grilled her about her expenditures. He behaved as in the past, like a despot. During this encounter, she had an epiphany. At age 26, he was still treating her as if she were 8, and he acted as though he owned her. He said ugly things to her about being a failure, a quitter, and not being his daughter, and he lunged toward her. His emotions were so apoplectic that her brother had to physically intervene to keep their father from reaching her. She decided that her dignity and autonomy were more valuable to her than an education, and she left his house. She finished out the semester (spring 1990) by living with a friend and commuting to the college (100 miles round trip in a borrowed vehicle) and returned to her library job with one year of credits left to earn.

Shortly after leaving, she received a memo from her father through her mother. In this she learned that her father had intended to forgive the entire debt upon her graduation (a decision he declined to share because he thought knowing would make her squander the opportunity), that he wanted the house-key returned, and that he did not want to see or have any contact with her until he decided he wanted it. This was cold, but typical of him. The woman just decided to let go of the desire for a college degree for awhile. She was very, very depressed, more so than she had ever been. Too much was in flux in her life; she didn’t even have a place to live. So she focused on acquiring the basics, on regaining stability, so she could rest and reassess the situation. She sorely needed a means of reliable transportation, and she needed money to pay for classes that the college required she take on campus.

In spring of 1991, she managed to find a deal on a new little car and arranged the loan. This was freedom! Her world opened. With this exhilarating change she felt renewed. She spoke to her boss about changing her work schedule to accommodate the classes she would need to take during the day. Her boss supported this; the endeavor would demand much of her, in that she would work in the morning, commute 100 miles in the afternoon for class, and finish her job in the evening. But it was possible, and she embraced this. In the summer of 1991 she took classes at Oswego, and coursework in the fall at both campuses. In spring of 1992 she took more courses at the university where she worked to transfer to the Oswego. Exhausted but nearly finished, she plowed through more summer and fall courses, and finished her studies in December 1992. Her goal had been to get her B.A. by the day she turned 30. Her birthday was June 24, 1993; she garnered her achievement six months ahead of that deadline. After ten years of hard work and struggle to overcome emotional, financial, and academic obstacles, our heroine prevailed. With the degree that society claimed was necessary to find advanced work, she could move ahead.
-----------------
My dear child,
I know I started parenthood quite late in life, and it is my hope that I gained some wisdom to share by waiting. My life was not problem-free growing up; nor was my early adulthood easy. I had to fight for my opportunities. Lacking money and moral support, I spent many years confusedly searching for my path. Sometimes I am wistful, wondering what else I might have accomplished had my life been different, but this is a waste of time. Besides, there is a central message here, in my life: persevere. No matter that your dream is scoffed at, or that you fear you lack the ability. If your heart whispers to you about what you love, if you harbor a dream, believe in it. And then do all you can to manifest this dream, keeping it in sight as life takes you hither and yon. As long as you hold this dream and nurture it, it will grow. It may not flourish all the time, but it will grow. As I look back on my life, this is one clear lesson it taught me.

Picture This - Things Are Different

Some of us will drift apart while others stay together

And some will step in from the rain while others face the weather
And some will take their last breath while others breathe new life
And though they're standing on our necks, there's still the will to fight

Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything has changed
And I know the world's on fire, but there's beauty in the flame
And we don't know how much longer
But we know we're gonna come back stronger, oh-oh
Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything, anything has changed

Some of us will lose ourselves while others rediscover (ooh)
The lovers and the innocence, a baby to its mother (ooh)
And some will grasp it in their hands while others lose control (ooh)
Yeah, we gotta leave our fingerprints to let the future know, oh

Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything has changed
And I know the world's on fire, but there's beauty in the flame
And we don't know how much longer
But we know we're gonna come back stronger, oh-oh
Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything, anything has changed

I'll be the light (eh)
If you follow me, I will be everything you need
I'll be the leader
If you want it, I promise that I will set you free

Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything has changed
And though the world's on fire, there's beauty in the flame
And we don't know how much longer
But we know we're gonna come back stronger, oh-oh
Just 'cause things are different, don't mean anything, anything has changed

I'll be the light (eh)
If you follow me, I will be everything you need
I'll be the leader
If you want it, I promise that I will set you free (changed)

I'll be the light (eh)
If you follow me, I will be everything you need
I'll be the leader (eh)
If you want it, I promise that I will set you free

How I Spent Today

I spent part of today participating in the online volunteering with Action for Happiness. 

Originally I was seeking community, a group to visit and participate in locally in person. And perhaps I will find this. However, there are no groups associated with this organization in the western United States, so I figured I'd take the free training and see what develops. 

The training was easy and the concepts are simple. As with much wisdom, simple does not equate with low-effort. Experiencing joy on the regular is a practice; it only develops with continuous effort. 

AFH organizes itself around ten key points that form an acronym: GREAT DREAM. Attending to these keys contribute to one's own happiness as well as that of others. Additionally, not doing harm is a potent contribution to well-being. 

Giving: doing kind things for others

These acts can be small! The driver who is trying to merge into your lane? Let her. Look at the clerk as he rings up your purchase and say hello sincerely. Not adding to unhappiness also counts; if you're tempted to flip someone off because they did something thoughtless, take a breath and let it go.

   

Relating: connect with other people

We live in a digital world, and we've succumbed to the idea that social media is truly connection. To an extent it does provide connection, but in a limited way. We need to share space with others, to speak to people in person, or on the phone in real time engagement. We've got to leave our safe little caves where we watch the shadows on the wall and call that interaction, and take a little risk to participate in the three dimensional world.

 

Exercising: take care of your body

One thing I have discovered in the past three years is that my body -- and yours -- needs to move. And it deserves to move and feel good, even if it's not in great shape or sized according to cultural standards. In August 2022 I realized I was on a bad trajectory with what I ate, how I moved, and the weight I carried. I was in pain, and I knew that the extra weight would create more health problems as I age. So I began to move -- short stints of strength training -- to get strong. Only after I became a bit stronger did I begin to change how I ate. I knew I had to figure out how to eat to drop weight but in a way that didn't make me rebel and drop out. What worked for me was accepting that I need to record what I eat diligently; I can eat whatever I want, but I need to be honest with myself. This enabled me to better understand my energy needs. Three years later, I've dropped 77 pounds. I'm technically still overweight, but it's a whole new life. Exercise makes me feel centered, and sometimes it makes me feel awesome. You deserve to move!

 

Awareness: live mindfully

This buzzword, along with "zen", has permeated culture for the past couple of decades, but what does it really mean? For me, it means pausing, breathing, experiencing my senses, even if for one minute. It means staying off my phone while I eat and actually savoring the food. To listen to the sounds of my neighborhood. To take a break from my buzzing thoughts.

 

Trying Out: keep learning new things

Anything new! A recipe. A hobby. Read a new genre of book. Try a puzzle. Explore Duolingo. Learning keeps us vital. A curious mind prevents boredom.  

 

Direction: have goals to look forward to

What would you like to accomplish or change in your life? It could be a big goal. These are best approached in smaller stages. Or your goal could be to take a vacation, try a new cuisine, or go to bed a bit more regularly for better sleep. 

 

Resilience: find ways to bounce back 

This can be hard. We are evolutionarily designed to look for danger, to be cautious, which can result in seeing threat everywhere, feeling competitive, and judging oneself harshly for falling short. There is one person who will be with you and never leave you: yourself. Our life work is to learn to be our own friend and loving parent to ourselves, even if we did not receive ideal parenting. To try and if we fail, to say, "It's okay. Learning takes effort. I'm allowed to be imperfect and grow." 

 

Emotions: look for what's good

Again, we can get caught in negative assessments and stories of ourselves and others, and of the world. I'm not suggesting you be toxically positive and to ignore feelings such as sadness, disappointment, or anger. I'm asking you not to shortchange yourself by dismissing the good. If you are temperamentally more pessimistic, as I am, this will take effort. In my effort to be "an informed citizen" I find myself doomscrolling the news, but that brings me down. And it helps no one. So I balance this by turning my attention to appreciating the good as much as I can. 

 

Acceptance: be comfortable with who you are

This is a life project. It's connected to resilience. To accept that it's all right to make mistakes, to mess up -- it's a fact of being alive. What matters is learning, and learning to repair when needed. It's knowing some things about yourself that you like, and knowing your strengths, as well as knowing the areas you would like to change or need to improve, and being reasonable with your self-assessment. 

 

Meaning: be part of something bigger

We are not just here for our own satisfaction and gain. We need each other. Humans seek and create meaning in their lives. We are already part of something bigger. This understanding has the potential to make one feel insignificant, but it also means that we belong in the natural order of things. Someone asked me recently what I love about myself. My answer was: "That "I" am a universe of systems and life forms existing in a larger universe of life forms in this mystery." My body is made of cells, systems (skeletal, muscular, vascular, etc.) and bacteria populate it everywhere. All of it contributes to my existence. In turn, I am part of a family, a city, a state, a country, a culture, the human race, the world, the universe. I interact with all of it and have impact. I matter. So do you.

Perhaps you'd like to join me?

This Year's Intentions

I took this photo at Maker Faire last fall. It's difficult to explain what this was, but people were invited to enter into this space of whirling light. It depicts how time feels to me. Soon enough we'll say good-bye to 2026. Here is what I aim for in my life practice.

Daily

• I will continue to meditate daily for five minutes; it's the holy pause, and even brief episodes have a positive impact.
• Each day I walk, at a minimum, 2,000 steps; given my sedentary job and life, it stuns me how few steps I could take if I don't make the effort. Last year my average was 4,835 steps (2.28 miles per day).
• Read a book -- it requires deep attention.

Weekly

• Make art. It can be small, quick, and simple. Or it can be elaborate.
• Seek and invite spending time with my child, who is leaving in eight months.
• Date night with Hub; this has vastly improved our connection in the past several years.
• See clients -- my work, which I really enjoy.
• Exercise four to five times a week, including strength training.
• Write one blog entry.

Monthly

• See friends!
• Go on side quests with Hub.
• Attend Open Studio with friends.

Yearly

• Improve overall physical fitness, including shedding more weight.
• Read at least 30 books.
• Travel with Hub on a couple of trips.
• Get my child moved to college.
• Explore and create new community.
• Attend a few Ecstatic Dances.

Throughout the year I will check in with myself to ensure I'm attending to these small projects that help me to live richly. 

Whetting My Appetite

Having received the gift of books as I usually do at Christmas, I decided to assemble my to-read pile. The four bottom books were gifts from the most recent Christmas. The other books I "shopped" from my library, because of course I have a collection of unread treasures. These are all non-fiction. I usually rely on serendipity and recommendations for my fiction choices. 

The top three books have been in the queue for several years. Many clients have mentioned the two Ruiz books as being helpful, and I'm curious to know more. The other book, Having Everything Right, contains essays on place, particularly the Pacific Northwest. Usually I remember purchasing a book or that it was a gift (and from whom), but this one is a mystery. The Pacific Northwest beckons me as a possible place to live in retirement, whenever that happens. Thus it caught my eye.

The next five books are poetry, three of which were written by the too-soon departed Andrea Gibson, and the last book by Maggie Smith, who is unknown to me, except for the poem "Good Bones". 

Women Who Run With the Wolves has been on my shelf for the past decade. I started it when I bought it, but it didn't hold my attention. Ten years ago my mental energy was devoted to mothering an eight-year-old, and it wasn't the right moment. This year my child is graduating high school and headed to college; it's time to explore the Wild Woman and give her more room to live. I found this critique fascinating and have offered a gift link: The Wild Woman Awakens.

The other tome in the stack is a memoir (one of my favored genres): A Walk in the Park: The True Story of A Spectacular Misadventure in the Grand Canyon. This book also offers another feature of books I enjoy reading: misadventures, particularly ones related to nature and national parks. Thankfully no one dies in this story, as far as I can tell.

Lastly, I was given three books for art exploration. Last year I began playing with watercolor paint. When paint is of good quality, it is delicious to use. I'm looking forward to exploring and learning its ways.

Do you have a stack of books you look forward to reading this year? Leave a comment if you'd like to share. 

Learning All the Ways

 “It seems to me that the great pleasure of human life is not in having an opinion, but rather in learning all the ways you are wrong, and all the nuances you failed to account for, and all the truths that turned out to be not as simple as you once believed. And it seems to me that one of the central pleasures of attending school is that you get to read with really well-informed people who can help welcome you into a complex world stuffed with rich and maddening ambiguity.”

— John Green