THANKFUL FRIDAY

Mom in camouflage on the beach in Dingle Ireland. Today, I wish we were back there, laughing at the cow (penis) some one drew in the sand. Happy Birthday Mom!

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My Mom asked me once what instrument I would want to play. It was obvious that I was not into the whole piano thing. Getting me to sit down and practice was a constant battle. I told my Mom that if I could play anything, it would be the cello. The cello makes a sound that resonates in my body and soothes my heart, but our little town only had band. No orchestra. No stringed instruments. My big brother played the drums and he’s cool. So, I picked up some sticks and settled into percussion. One day, while Mom was working at the Oklahoma Well Log Library, she heard a geologist talking about an old cello in his attic. Mom bought that cello from him for $75. It needed new everything, pegs, strings, bridge. It had a crack down one side. We spent another $300 in repairs. Mom found me a teacher who got me into a special youth orchestra. There wasn’t money for a case and I carried my cello around wrapped up in an old sheet until Mom made me a vinyl cello case. Yup. She MADE it. It was gray vinyl with floral print trim. The pockets for music and bow and the handles were made with the floral print trim. It was perfect and the envy of many in the youth orchestra. I played that cello for years. I stopped playing in college because I no longer played in an orchestra and the pegs no longer stuck in place to hold the strings in tune. I couldn’t justify the money for replacing the pegs. A new version of my life took over. Eventually, I sold the cello to help pay for yoga teacher training. I do miss it, though I don’t even know if I remember how to read music any more. Some times I think about buying another cello and maybe some day I will. But I will always be grateful for that first cello.

From the things my Mom has said over the years, I have a strong impression that she was never really supported in her passions as a child. I think that was her driving force behind doing everything to encourage us. When my brother showed an interest in art and an aptitude for drawing, she enrolled him in a prominent art class. When my sister wanted to dance, she put us both in a serious dance school. She drove us to dance class, art class, music lessons, and competitions. She made costumes. She did fundraisers. She spent money that Dad probably didn’t know she was spending. Mom did the best she could to provide us with the tools we needed for our creative outlets. Heck, she still does this; she gifted me a new journal at Christmas. I am reminded of Marmee March and how she encouraged her daughters in all of their endeavors even if those endeavors did not meet with societal propriety. My Mom was a Marmee March. It took me a long time to realize that not every kid had a Marmee March who would support their children in their creative endeavors. As grateful as I may be about that cello, I am even more grateful to have the kind of mom who supports creativity.

My Mom celebrated a birthday on Wednesday. And after a bit of a scary start to this year, I am also thankful that she’s here to celebrate another year of her life.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Thursday

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I sat down on the couch in Dr. Mary’s office. It had been weeks since my last appointment. Maybe not weeks, but definitely before the start of the New Year. Dr Mary looked at me, tilted her head to the side while squinting her eyes and said “You look really good. You look rested. Are you rested?” I’m not so sure I am well rested but I do feel more relaxed than usual. This is an unusual feeling for this time of year because January is the month where I feel like crawling into a cocoon of blankets and not coming out until sometime in March. And this year kicked itself off with a big whammy. On New Year’s Eve, my mom was in a car accident.

She’s okay.

But I have concerns that I am not talking about here.

I started making some mental health changes back in October like thinking about where I am wasting my energy and taking a different approach with the things that trigger my anxiety. My new morning routine is getting really good to me. The alarm goes off at 5:00 AM, I roll out of bed and put on my robe. Then I head to the kitchen to turn the kettle on to boil water. I go to the bathroom and then back to the kitchen where I slice up a lemon. I place two lemon slices in a mug with a dollop of honey and once the water comes to a boil, I fill up the mug. Then I go and take a seat for twenty minutes of meditation that includes ten rounds of alternate nostril breathing and twenty four rounds of a mantra. The rest of the time is spent sitting still with my thoughts. When the timer goes off, I sip on my hot lemon water while writing it all down in a journal. Then I get up and get going with my day. The changes that I started implementing in October coupled with my renewed meditation practice is making a world of a difference. That first week of meditation did not include the lemon water and I really believe it is the act of making this hot lemon water that has really grounded this practice into place. I am not saying that every morning is easy. There are still some mornings when I really want to hit that snooze button, but I don’t. I don’t because I know that I will feel better if I just get up. I wrote in my journal yesterday about being tired and feeling sluggish that morning. I wrote about the animals trying to get my attention, Josephine pawing at me to scratch her head, the cat meowing loudly outside my door. I even forgot to start my meditation timer, which I corrected after my mantra rounds. I finished my meditation practice while gently scratching behind Josephine’s ears, but I showed up. I did the practice and I don’t feel like crawling into that blanket cocoon. In fact, the other morning when I went on my coffee loop, I felt almost…dare I even say…happy?

Thursday morning, when Michael stepped outside to decide if the cars needed to be defrosted, he realized that the temperatures were unusually warm for a January. He came in looking suspicious and then went to see if his scooter would start. It started right up and he came back into the house declaring it to be fake Spring and everybody needs to ride a scooter to work day. My scooter did not start right up. There was a far amount of engine coughing before I finally got it going, but when it finally came to life, I zipped to work at light speed. The ride in made me positively giddy. I mean, scooter rides never happen in January and it probably won’t happen again until real Spring shows up. It’s supposed to start sleeting today with snow predicted for all day Saturday.

I am ending this week with some profound gratitude for unusually warm days in January that allow for a scooter ride, but also for this practice that is serving me so well.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

1/52 A new 52 week project begins.

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For every year we’ve been together, Michael has struggled with what to put in my Christmas stocking. I am not much of a snacker or candy eater. I’m never sitting on the couch and suddenly say something like “I want Reese’s Pieces!” I’m pretty hard to buy snacks or candy for because chances are it just won’t get eaten. I’m not purposefully depriving myself. I’m just usually not a snacker. Snacking is like my Coke-a-cola cravings. Sometimes I think I really want a Coke. Then I’ll take three or four sips of it and be done. Those baby cans of soda where made for people like me and sometimes I don’t even finish one of those. Surprising me with things in my stocking is not an easy task. Michael’s done a great job at changing his mindset on what goes into a Christmas stocking. Usually he gets me some nice almonds and a really good chocolate bar. I can make a really good candy bar last for more than a week. This year I got fire roasted crickets, which is funny because I also got him some fire roasted crickets. Neither of us have been brave enough to open these up and give them a go.

Last year, Michael put a desktop sand garden in my stocking. I took that little garden to work and then decided it would make a great photography project. By this time, I had completed my 365 day project and was so over the idea of doing another one. I just didn’t have it in me to commit to a picture every day, but I looked at my little Zen sand garden and thought “what about a picture a week?” A picture a week seemed like less of a commitment and still kept my toes in the creativity pool. So, once a week for the entire year of 2019, I took a few minutes to draw in the sand or not draw in some cases. I carefully took a picture of my creation and posted it to an album in Flickr. The album did not garner much attention in the Flickr community. Some times I would share a photo on Instagram if I really liked what I had done, but really the project was mostly just for me. In fact Michael wasn’t even really aware I had been doing this until I posted my very last picture in the project.

This year, Michael stuck a Buddha Board in my stocking. He said that when he realized I had turned my Zen sand garden into a photo project that I would need something new for 2020. Michael thought that the Buddha Board would be a good for this. And he’s right. Michael does a really good job with providing me with tools that help feed my creativity. I have played around with both the Buddha board and Zen garden when they were on display in various stores and every time I have thought about how fun it would be to have one of these on my desk. Yet, I never purchased one. The Fortune Cookie journal is another one of things that I never would have purchased for myself. I would have picked it up int he store and flipped through the pages while thinking about projects, but that would have been it. I have a hard time spending money on things like this for myself. Maybe they seem to frivolous for me to purchase or I just feel like it is wasteful to spend money on myself in this way. But Michael does not see it that way.

I am thankful for his field of view that differs from my own. I am thankful for his ability to see something and think “I bet Cindy could do something really fun and creative with that.” I am thankful for the way he encourages my creativity. I’m pretty sure he believes more in my creative talents than I do.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Nothing except

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Thursday evening, I attended a yoga mala to celebrate the upcoming Winter Solstice. I signed up for it ages ago and kind of forgot about it. Then I remembered that I had decided to do this and I regretted putting my name on the sign up sheet. Everything that I could get into the mail has been sent. All the presents have been wrapped. Josephine’s been to the groomer’s. The house is as clean as I can get it right now what with all the snow and Christmas clutter. Despite all of that, I still had a lot to do before we headed out to Mom’s for the weekend. Did I really have an hour and half to spare for 108 sun salutations? Did I really have the energy to spare for 108 sun salutations?

The table in our break room is covered with treats. There are cookies and spicy Chex mix and some sort of homemade chocolate/peanut cup that must be laced with crack because I cannot stop eating them. I don’t understand how there are any still left. They have to be multiplying in the night. I am not a snacker or much of a stress eater, but on any given day this week you could find me shoving a handful of Chex mix into my mouth or two chocolate/peanut cups. Conversations that need to happen are weighing heavy on my mind. I am super busy at work (Do you read the New York Times ?!? Science doesn’t stop for the Holidays). We have a new dish soap that smells like Chris on the day he died and I am filled with anxiety that I will not come close to meeting the expectations some might have of me. Wednesday night, I dreamed that I stepped on the scale and was delighted to see that I had lost weight. Then the number on the scale started dropping. My delight turned to panic as I realized that I was disappearing.

So the real question I should have been asking myself was how could I not spare the time for 108 sun salutations? It is the time of year for self-care gurus to shout the loudest because they know how hard the Holiday season can be on a human. Social engagements, bright lights, loud noises, the struggle to meet expectations. All of these things wreck havoc on our mental and physical well being. Spending an hour and a half on my mat, in a place where I feel the most confident, secure and comforted, is the very least I can do for myself. But this class was not an easy lay on the floor yoga class. This was a physically and mentally challenging class. I mean a sun salutation is the original burpee. A hundred and eight of them with some warrior poses thrown in here and there and you will be left a sweaty mess with noodle arms. The mental aspect was just as rough. We started the class in meditation where Kelly asked us to focus on the 2009 self. “What piece of advice or warning would you give the 2009 you?”

Ha! Seriously? Buckle up baby.

Then we got to the very last round and suddenly Kelly was yelling at us to stay strong. “You are strong. Don’t ever believe that you are not strong.” And there I was pushing myself to stay in proper form as I lowered down through chaturanga, sweaty and crying and doing this. It is tattooed on my fucking wrist. I am strong. All that stuff up there. The hard conversations, the dish soap, not meeting expectations. They are nothing. I’ve had harder conversations. That dish soap can go in the garbage. I don’t have to meet anyone’s expectations except for the ones I set for myself. I am not responsible for anyone else’s happiness but my own. I am doing my best and right now my best is good enough for me. There is so much gratitude in that knowledge.

Don’t ever believe that you are not strong.

I am sending out a wish for peace and joy to all of you this Holiday Season.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Last night

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I came home to a giant stack of mail and a house that needs to be cleaned. Christmas cards need to be addressed and sent out. There are a few gifts that need to go into the mail. I have one actual present to buy and candy to go in stockings. There are also a bunch of presents that need to be wrapped. We forgot about our advent calendar and are seven days behind. I have two pairs of clean underwear left in the drawer and the inside of our refrigerator looks like it was raided by apocalyptic marauders. I have a lot of things to do at home and at work. If anything, recovery from DC should be at the top of my to-do list. This DC trip sort of wrecked havoc on my body.

There were many late nights followed with really early mornings. There was a time change and it seemed that most mornings I was waking up at 4:30 AM their time which is 3:30 AM my time. The last night there, I went to bed around 1:00 AM and then woke up at 4:30 in the morning. And I was AWAKE. I could not go back to sleep, so I just watched bad TV until the sun came up. Then there’s this weird rash that kind of looks like poison ivy that just showed up on my back. It itches like crazy. I don’t know if this is also part of that rash, but random bumps that resemble bug bites have started to show up on my legs and arms. The other night, I put lotion on my hands before crawling into bed. My hands were so dry and cracked that they started to itch and burn from the lotion. This plus the rash and bug-like bumps made my whole body itchy. Micheal came in to say goodnight and I was laying in bed, clawing at my skin like a meth head.

Side note: It was just like that time my mom gave me a prescription pain med when I had my wisdom teeth removed. She came in the middle of the night to check on me and I was writhing and scratching. I wildly yelled at her “MY SKIN IS CRAWLING!” and Mom said “Oh no” and then threw out the rest of that pain medication.

When I’m not scratching my skin off, I’m losing things. My car wouldn’t start when I got home Tuesday night and security had to come jump start my car. I finally made it home, started taking off all of my jewelry and realized that one of my silver rings from Tiffany’s was missing. Actually, it was the first ring Michael ever bought me and I got real panicky. I searched pockets and mittens and had decided that it had just fallen off of my finger somewhere. I felt a little sick to my stomach over the loss and I was pretty convinced it was gone forever. Then I opened my suitcase and started to unpack and I found my ring under my toiletry bag. Wednesday morning, I left the house for work and somewhere between locking the front door and getting into my car, I lost a t-shirt I had nabbed for a co-worker from a company booth. I later found that t-shirt in the back seat of my car.

So here’s what I am thankful for this week. I am thankful for finding the things I thought I had lost. This includes people I hadn’t seen in over twenty years.

Next week will be easier.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Travel day

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Today, I am headed to Washington D.C. for a cell biology conference. The last, and only time, I was in DC was for a high school band trip with an itinerary packed so full that I didn’t have time to take a breath, let alone actually really see anything. The worst moment of that trip was when our charter bus pulled up to the National Mall and our tour guide said “Do you see these Smithsonian Museums? Pick one. You’ve got one hour.” I flew through the Natural History Museum as if I was being chased by tigers. I have a hazy memory of a giant whale and the Hope diamond. I don’t expect that I will have much time for sightseeing on this trip either. I’ve already booked a round trip train ticket to Baltimore for an evening with friends where I get to Baltimore around 4:00 in the afternoon and leave at 5:30 in the morning the next day.

I told my friends that I would be sneaking out of their house that morning. I’m reliving my twenties.

This (too) short visit to Baltimore and the conference are going to take up a majority of my time. I have done some research on places where I might leave Chris and I have narrowed down my list of possible museum visits. Really, I have done the most research on where I am going to eat while I am there. There’s a place called Hip City Veg that I am very excited about and it is like a vegan Shake Shake. DC saw an influx in Ethiopian refugees in the 70s and 80s, fleeing from a war-torn nation. Because of this, Ethiopian food is a big part of the food scene in DC. My plan is to eat my weight in y’ misir we’t and injera. I also have a vegan falafel place on my list. In fact, I am more excited about my food options than I am about seeing the Capitol. Which is fine. My belly can be the tourist on this trip. Really…my belly tends to be the tourist on most trips.

Food is culture and I can’t think of a better way to explore a city and learn about the people who live there then by eating their food.

I’m excited to finally be going back to Washington DC and having the opportunity to explore it in a completely different way. DC in December is bound to be beautifully decorated with colorful lights. The weather is supposed to be mild. My conference schedule has filled up with talks and demos that I think sound really interesting. It is also a spicy time to be in DC with all the political drama. And as I sit here thinking about it all, I have to stop and take a moment to be grateful for such an opportunity. Sometimes my life really looks like it couldn’t possibly belong to me. Both in good ways and bad ways. Right now, in this moment, I am thankful for the good.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Sparse

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I walked all the way to Los Angeles. Along the way, I passed through isolated towns that consisted of run down diners and two-pump gas stations. Tumbleweeds the size of boulders rolled across the two-lane highway. Sometimes I would spot a roadrunner or jackrabbit. There were several miles where I was followed by a lone coyote. Every time I stopped to drink from my water bottle, he would sit and look off into the distance with an air of indifference. I passed an area of white sand and could see several dune buggies bouncing over the hills and could hear people whooping and hollering as the buggy leaped into the air. I just kept on walking. When I reached the outskirts of L.A., I had to cross an old bridge that was made from just random pieces of wood laid down here and there. I could see nails sticking out of some planks and crumbled edges of plywood. This was not a sturdy bridge, but I stepped out onto the first plank. I proceeded to make my way, creeping along slowely and carefully, sometimes having to leap over missing sections and just having to trust that I was landing on something solid.

But I made it across.

Once I crossed the bridge, I found myself in the most beautiful cemetery. The headstones and memorials were all pieces of art. The largest one that stood out in the middle of the cemetery was a large rounded horse with a large rounded person sitting on top. It looked like a sculpture by Diego Rivera except the person riding the horse was painted up as the most beautifully glorious drag queen with big blond hair and bright blue eyeshadow. I spent hours wandering around this cemetery, gazing at all the different headstones. I eventually made my way back to the center and sat down in front of the Diego Rivera like sculpture. Then I started to weep. It wasn’t that I was sad; I was just overwhelmed by the beauty of it all, the headstones and the people the headstones memorialized. It was all so stunning. I was overwhelmed with how this place honored those that resided there.

I woke up with tears still streaming down my face and thinking that the sight of that cemetery was truly worth crossing that scary bridge, because the walk itself was not a bad time. There was plenty to see as I walked along the highway. Sure, it was a long walk. The weather was unpredictable with hot sunny days and sudden rain storms. The wind blew constantly, swirling up dirt devils, but the landscape was beautiful. The sunrises and sunsets looked like paintings in the sky. Some times I would stop in one of those diners for a meal and I would chat with locals. I would be completely drawn into their stories they had to share about their lives and this place. I greeted every wildlife sighting with the wonder and fascination of a small child. It was truly a joy to be on this trek. Really, the only horrible part of that walk was crossing that bridge into L.A. It was the only time in my dream that I was terrified. My legs shook with each tentative step. My palms were sweaty and my mouth was dry. There were times I thought that I could not do this. I could not make it across this bridge. I was going to fall to my death.

Except, I didn’t.

I know full well what that walk to L.A. represents. I know what the truly horrible part is and I know that there is something truly beautiful and amazing on the other side of the truly horrible. I am thankful for the other side.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Orange

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Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, I found myself behind a Ford Fusion with a personalized tag that read ‘FOCUS’. And I had questions. First of all, did the driver think they had purchased a Ford Focus? Or maybe they had previously owned a Ford Focus and just moved the tag over to this one? Maybe the driver was an optometrist? Though, I feel like maybe an optometrist would drive something more expensive than a Fusion? Except, now that I really think about it, if they are an optometrist then they’re probably still paying back student loans. Optometry school is EXPENSIVE! Then I thought that maybe the driver was just saying “FOCUS”. Focus on the road ahead of you. Focus on the task you are engaged in. Pay attention. My brain immediately goes for the most complicated answer when it really may be just a simple reminder to pay attention.

I haven’t been doing a great job keeping up with a gratitude practice lately. I skipped an entry for last week entirely. I had written something. Actually I had written, deleted, re-written, deleted, re-written and decided to hit ‘delete’ instead of ‘publish’. The weather combined with the lack of sunlight was making me sound like a total crank pot. I did not sound grateful, but I was also working hard at writing something profound or meaningful. I was working too hard and I was reaching for something more complicated. I was reaching for something to be thankful for.

I should never have to reach.

When ever I find myself reaching for gratitude, I step back and take a breath. I take a moment to say this simple prayer.

I am thankful for the roof over my head. I am thankful for the nourishing food that is sustaining this body. I am thankful for the beautiful people I have in my life who support and love me.

I take a moment to focus.

WRECKAGE

Someone's having a bad vacation

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Eric and Melissa stood silently staring as the RV that had been their home for the last two years burned. A small, now empty, fire extinguisher dangled from Eric’s left hand. Melissa had managed to run inside the RV and grab both of their backpacks that contained their laptops and a laundry basket of clothing. Both backpacks where still hanging on her shoulder with the laundry basket propped on one hip. Melissa turned to Eric and opened her mouth to say something, but he put up his hand and shook his head. They could hear sirens in the distance and their gaze shifted to the fire truck as it sped down the interstate in one direction. The fire truck would have to go north for more than a mile just to find a turn around spot. Melissa reached over and grabbed Eric’s hand. She gently tugged him back from the burning wreckage to what she thought might be a safe distance. A loud ‘BOOM’ accompanied with an intense burst of flames lifted the entire RV slightly off the ground sending it bouncing back down hard on the tires.

The fire truck pulled into the desolate parking lot and the fire fighters all jumped from the truck ready for action. Melissa looked over at Eric again, his face lit with the flames from the fire and she could see tears streaming down his face. She leaned over and said “I’m going over to that picnic shelter to call my mom, Okay?” Eric just nodded his head without bothering to look at her, still transfixed by the scene of destruction in front of him. Melissa sighed and then set down all of the stuff she’d managed to salvage before the fire had spread from the engine to rest of the RV. She walked over to a picnic shelter that was far enough away from the noise and dialed her mother’s number on her cell. It was pretty late. Her mom was probably already in bed.

Mom? It’s me. Melissa.

Melissa! What’s wrong? Why are you calling so late? Are you okay?

Everything’s fine. Well…depending how you look at it. Eric and I are stranded at a rest stop in Oklahoma. The RV caught fire and has now burned down to the tires. We’re watching firefighters attempt to put the major flames out as I speak. I am going to ask them to take us to the nearest town and check into a hotel. After that, I don’t know what do.

I’m coming. I’m coming to get you.

Mom.

NO! I’m coming to get you RIGHT NOW! Text me with address information when you get to the hotel.

Thank you, Mom. I love you

I love you sweet pea. Momma is on her way.

Melissa sighed in relief as she ended the call and tears filled up in her eyes. She looked over at Eric who was now sitting on the curb. One of the firefighters was crouched down in front of him saying something to Eric. Eric didn’t even nod his head in response. He just continued to stare at the charred remains of the RV. Melissa walked over to the firefighter. “Sir? My husband seems to be in a bit of a shock. I’m…I’m sure he’ll snap out of it, but in the meantime, is it possible to get a ride into town? Maybe a town with a motel?” The fireman stood and turned to her “Of course ma’am’. We just need to be certain that the fire is completely out and then wrap up our stuff. I’ll come get you when we’re ready.” Melissa nodded her head and said “thank you.” Then she sat down on the curb next to Eric, their only belongs stacked in a small mound on her other side.

There was a lot that needed to be said. Melissa should explain that her mother was coming to get them, that they’d figure out everything. She wanted to say that they would call the insurance company as soon as they reached a hotel. She wanted to say that this was just a temporary set back, everything was going to be okay. Instead, Melissa said nothing. She looked at the RV, now just black charred metal, and couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. Melissa couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, that the RV had read her thoughts. The RV had seen inside Melissa’s heart and found out how much she hated this RV, this life. The RV knew that Melissa had reached her limit of tolerance and that Melissa was struggling with finding the words to tell Eric how much she hated this RV and how she wanted nothing of this life with him. She’d given it two years and she felt no different today than when they started this crazy plan. Melissa had tried. She really had, but she couldn’t do this another second. It was if the RV understood all of that and sacrificed itself to give her a new start, a way out.

“Your mother doesn’t need to come. We can just get someone to take us to the nearest RV dealership and get a new RV.” Eric said, still staring at the wreckage. Melissa turned and looked at her husband. His eyes were open wide and he looked a little crazy. She realized that he was more than a little crazy. He was certifiable. Melissa placed her hand on Eric’s shoulder “Eric…honey…I am never getting in another RV with you. Ever again.” Then Melissa stood. She picked up her backpack and the laundry basket and walked over to the fire truck, away from her husband and his beloved RV.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Team building

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I had to walk a tight rope this week. Not a figurative tight rope. An actual tight rope made of wire. It was two feet off the ground, but at this age, falling two feet could hurt. I didn’t do this completely unassisted. I had some support since it was a team building thing, but I will say that I did most of my tight rope walking with very minimal assistance. I really feel like if I had had some time on my own, just a few minutes really, I would have been dancing along that rope with zero assistance. It is quite possible that I could have a second career as a tight rope walker for a circus. I shouldn’t be surprised with this ability. I dominated the balance beam during my short gymnastics stint, but a wire is very different from a balance beam.

Wires move.

The wire vibrates and bounces with each step, even while attempting to stand still. The tension and strain from trying to hold yourself steady flows right down to the wire, which then begins to vibrate from side to side. You body turns rigid in effort to stop the wire from moving, but this causes the wire to move even more. At least, this was my experience. The harder I worked to get the wire to be still, the more the wire moved. The wire would only stop moving if I paused to take a moment to focus solely on my breath and release the tension from body. Balance is not rigid. It is fluid. You have to be able to sway and trust me when I tell you that this fluidity counter acts the movement of the wire. This doesn’t mean that muscles aren’t engaged and you are all loosey goosey. I could feel every single one of my core muscles tighten up to help me balance. I guess it’s more of dancer like movement and less of a hold it together by brut force kind of thing.

The physical act of wire walking is the most obvious metaphor for life.

It is so painstakingly obvious that I am kicking myself for all of the many many many times I tried to hold shit together by shear force. And I know this from my practice on my mat. I know that when I pause to focus on my breath, when I allow myself to sway and bend, everything that is supposed to fall into place, falls into place. That’s the key: Everything that is supposed to fall into place, falls into place. This means dropping any ideas of controlling everything to fall into place. Instead I need to focus on the things that I can control. Recently, I wrote up a list of reasons of why I am unhappy. It turned out to be a very short list. So I followed that list with a list of ways I could fix the unhappy list. What I realize about the things on the unhappy list is that they all consist of things that I can’t really control, like other people’s behavior. The solutions to those things are to control my reactions. Some of that means speaking up more and some of it means putting less effort into things. I have stopped trying so hard to make the wire stop vibrating.

This is what I’m thankful for today.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Holding on

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I did some research and decided that I needed to change up my exercise routine. All that research kept pointing me to articles on ‘women of a particular age’ and strength training. So, instead of getting on a stationary bike and riding six miles on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I’m attending a ‘strength and sweat’ class at the gym. I hate it, but I’m committed. The teacher, Colleen, makes it easier for me to be committed to attending the class. She sees me in the gym every day, doing my yoga practice and commented that she was in awe of that practice. When I walked in to her class that first Tuesday, Colleen exclaimed “You’re coming to my class?! Yay!” Later on she asked me why I was switching things up. We had a conversation about our age group and exercise and Colleen knew exactly what I was feeling. She knows I hate doing all of the things we do in her class and she sympathizes. She’s really good at encouraging without being overly cheerleader like and she’s always checking in with me (and pretty much everyone else in the class) to see how I’m doing or if I’m overdoing it.

This makes all the difference.

That doesn’t mean I like the class any better today than when I started last week. But having an instructor who gets you, makes it a whole lot easier to be there. The class has also been a bit of wake up call and quite humbling. We partnered up on Tuesday and while one of the duo performed a round of five pushups, ten sit-ups and twenty squats, the other person had to jump rope. I wasn’t good at jumping rope when I was in elementary school let alone at age forty three. I finally hit a good jumping rhythm without tripping up in the last minute of our ten minute routine. All this time, I thought I was in shape, but it turns out I was just a shape and that shape was not prepared for jumping around while punching ten pound dumbbells into the air. This realization was a bit humbling. At the end of week two, though, I have to say that I do feel better. On Thursday, I glanced over at my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors while we were doing squats and I did a double take. I was all “wha...is that my butt?!?” My butt looks less like the-party’s-over-deflated balloons and more like this-might-be-a-party balloons. My butt has a new shape!

Take a moment to have gratitude in yourself for your practice today

This is something I tell my students at the end of my classes. This is something I say to myself at the end of my own time on the mat. This is something I never say to myself off the mat. Today I am going to take a moment to have gratitude in myself for starting this new practice and for staying consistent with this new practice. I am going to take a moment to be grateful for this body’s ability to keep up even when things got difficult, even though I was often ungraceful and often outside of my comfort zone. I think maybe I need to be outside of my comfort zone some times.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

New art by @jaymebrandt. It might be my favorite thing on the wall, second only to Jen's Wonder Woman painting.

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The first time Michael and walked into Tee Rex while visiting Eureka Springs a year or so ago, my heart flipped over in my chest. This shop wasn’t there during my and Chris’s many many visits to Eureka Springs. I’m sure if it had been, we would have packed our things and moved right on in. It is a store that Chris would have never left without purchasing twenty things. Tee Rex sells nostalgia. I have to admit that when I walk into that store, I want to buy more than twenty things. From original Strawberry Shortcake to The Get A Long Gang to Popples, I see my childhood/tween years flash before my eyes and I have serious wants. I almost bought an original Lemon Meringue doll during this last visit, but I refrained.

There are many a display case in Tee-Rex devoted to vintage Star Wars toys and the owner, James Brandt, is a graphic designer who does Star Wars themed art. Michael and I both own his Force Awakens t-shirt that features Star Wars characters in various stages of wakening up in the morning. I’ve already spilled tortellini soup on mine. The last time Michael and I were in the shop there was one particular print that caught my eye. It is a print called Cy-Fi Cycling Club and consists of wonderful renditions of Star Wars characters on various kinds of bicycles. Each bicycle is themed for different ships and crafts. Chewie and Han are riding a slightly janky tandem bike with Millennium Falcon accents. The Ewoks are on Big Wheels because of course. Michael walked up to my side as I stood gazing at this print and I said “I want this. I am going to buy this.” Michael agreed and said that it is nice to have art on the wall from artists other than yourself. So now that print is hanging on the wall above my desk. I sit or stand there and study it and I always find something new to see.

Michael is no where close to the Star Wars fan that Chris was, nor do I expect him to be. I think some of Michael’s appreciation for the series comes from my influence on him. That’s fine. I am quick to admit that I am a Star Wars fan girl mostly due to the influence of Chris. Michael is into bicycles. When we met, he was riding his bike everywhere. He knows all the ends and out about bicycles and is in charge of the household’s bicycle maintenance. Chris used to go to Staples just to look at pens in the pen isle. Well, Michael goes to bike shops just to look at bicycle stuff. So you see, the Cy-Fi Cycling Club is a nice combination of my past and present. Chris and Michael. Something I am always battling with is how the past might be judging my present. When I look at this print, I forget about any kind of judgement. I forget about feeling guilty.

This is why you put art on your walls from artists other than yourself.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Memories

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Terry was in Spokane. It was his second trip out there with only a handful of months separating this trip from his last one. I knew he was helping our friend Leo with Leo’s new bakery (Glorious Artisan Bakery), but something felt a little odd. So I sent a text. “Are you moving to Spokane?” I didn’t hear anything from Terry for a couple of days and when he did finally reply, he avoided my question completely. Meanwhile, I wrote a tiny story in the Fortune Cookie journal about loading boxes into a moving van. I ended up over at Terry’s one evening after he’d returned from his trip. It was just the two of us, sitting in the backyard, talking about his future. He and Leo had been joking about him moving out there. When Terry received my text, it just seemed like a sign. He showed it to Leo and the two of them laughed and laughed. It was settled. Terry would move to Washington State.

We all gathered Tuesday night to help Terry load up his moving van. He declared that the van he’d rented was too big, but better to have too much room than not enough. It turned out that there was just (barely) enough room for all of the boxes of ceramic doll head molds and bits of furniture and all of the other things that didn’t end up in that garage sale or re-gifted. Then we all gathered in the backyard to spread Max’s ashes. Terry blessed each one of us with voodoo essential oils for clarity. We cried. We laughed. We cried a little bit more. Then we toasted to the future and grand new adventures. There is speculation that the new owner of Terry’s house is a young, gay man which seems fitting and full circle. I think about Terry moving into that house almost fourteen years ago and the changes he made to make it his home. I wonder what the new owner has planned for that space. Will it include Thanksgiving served on vintage china plates decorated with cartoons of the US states? Do you think he’ll have a burning of the Easter Bunny effigy in his backyard? Will he have dogs?

I bet not.

I bet the new owner starts his own traditions.

I am thankful for all the great times at Terry’s, but I am also grateful for his new adventure. I’m excited for him and I can’t wait to see what comes next. Michael and I are already talking about visiting him next summer. One thing I became very aware of is that I have to do better at maintaining these connections I have made with some really great people. I’m not just talking about Terry. Terry introduced me to some wonderful people and just because he’s no longer around to be the instigator, doesn’t mean I lose touch with these people. If these connections are important to me, and they are, then I need to step up and reach out and say ‘yes’ to more things. Because I’m thankful Terry brought those people into my life.

I am thankful for the good people in my life.

I am thankful for grand adventures.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Instagram post by Cindy Maddera * Sep 12, 2019 at 3:24pm UTC

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Josephine had an appointment at the groomer’s for 9 AM yesterday. At the very last minute, I decided to be late to work. My intention had been to get to work at my usual time, then rush home and gather the dog. Then I would drop her off at the groomer’s and head back to work. I suddenly realized just how stupid that was since the groomer’s is on the way to work. It’s just down the street actually. I could easily walk there from work. So I paused as I gathered my keys and bag and thought “what if I’m just late to work today?” What would happen if I disrupted my normal routine? Well, considering how this week has gone in general, there is no normal routine. For sure the world didn’t fall apart any more than it already has.

I talk a lot here about disruption of routines and how it usually has a negative affect on my mental stability (or lack of stability). I tend to say something about how the lack of routine makes me grateful for my routine. Sure, all of that is true. But for some reason, this time around, I started thinking a little bit differently about disrupting my normal routine. Every time I went to BlogHer, I would always seek out the photography sessions. I don’t remember what year it was or who said it, but in one of those panel sessions someone said to take pictures from different angles. This person talked about getting down on the ground or climbing up high, whatever it took to get a different view of the subject. I took this advice to heart. It is not uncommon to see me crawling on the ground or climbing up onto things I should not be climbing when I am in photographer mode. I will dangle myself out the window of moving cars (that’s Michael’s favorite thing….he just loves that so dang much). I will perch on the very edge of a cliff (that’s another one Micheal’s favorite things). Basically, I will dirty up the knees of my pants, put grass stains on the elbows on my sleeves, and put my life in danger for a photo.

I think this technique has served me well.

This is what I was thinking about today in regards to yesterday’s change in routine. It wasn’t necessarily a disruption, but more of a different angle. I should be treating my daily life in the same way I treat my photography endeavors. Changing the usual routine gives a different perspective on that routine. I can see what part of that routine is serving me best and what parts of it I just do out habit. So instead of being grateful for my usual routine, today I am grateful for the insight to look at the usual routine from a different perspective (and adjust accordingly).

And just because I need to brag about my dog: I picked Josephine up from our groomer, who went on and on about what a good little girl Josephine is. Apparently Schnauzer’s have a bad reputation among groomers, but Josephine is a dream. The groomer’s words. “Josephine is a dream.”

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Photography drawer

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Last weekend, I scrubbed the kitchen floor, dusted the whole house, wiped down baseboards, swept and vacuumed. I changed the couch cover. I cleaned the bathroom. I did laundry. I put clean sheets on the bed. I cleaned out the filling cabinet (and found Chris’s certificate of ordination because of course). I cleaned the vacuum! I roasted four pans of tomatoes. I made a batch of breakfast quinoa for the week. I made a vegetarian Bolognese sauce to go with cauliflower gnocchi. I mopped the kitchen floor again when my tonic water exploded all over me and the kitchen. I ate boiled okra with stewed tomatoes, cannelloni beans (no one had black-eyed peas at the farmer’s market) and smoked trout. I wrote in my fortune cookie journal. I went to an art exhibit. I visited the foot spa place. Then, I sorted prints. I cleaned out a desk drawer and organized all of my camera stuff to fit neatly in that drawer. I made a spread sheet of photos I want to print for a showing, along with the sizes I want to print of each, how much it’s going to cost to print and how much it’s going to cost to frame each print. Then I printed out that spreadsheet and stuck it on the wall at my desk.

It was a pretty productive weekend. I did every thing on my mental list of things that I wanted to do.

I did not ask for a weekend to myself. Michael read my entry about wanting time for myself and he put together a plan to spend a weekend with his moms. This prompted a discussion of making this a thing that happens more than once a year. We also talked about asking for things we need. And when I say “we”, I mean me. I need to ask for the things I need for myself. I told Michael that I didn’t think that this was something I could ask for myself for a number of reasons. I didn’t want to hurt feelings. He has a way of saying “okay’ to things in a tone of voice that makes me think he’s not really okay with doing what I asked. I worried that if I asked for time alone, I would get a dejected, sad ‘okay’ response. Then I’d feel selfish for wanting time alone. Michael doesn’t have to ask for his alone time weekends because I instinctually just give them to him and because it feels like a normal thing to do. We have vastly different relationship backgrounds.

Chris and I often went on separate vacations. He would meet Traci for coffee and stay out late at least once a week. We had our own things without each other and we didn’t feel the need to keep tabs on each other. So having to ask for time alone just wasn’t necessary. I don’t know about all of Michael’s relationships, but from what I’ve heard, there were trust issues. In his world, if you were out late with a member of the opposite sex it probably meant that you were up to something shady. Just as we are learning to navigate around all of that baggage, we are also having to learn how to navigate communicating with different personalities, mindsets, egos. And I don’t mean ‘egos’ in a negative sense. We all have egos. Read some Freud. Communicating effectively with another human being is complicated at the best of times, let alone during the stressful times when effective communication is most important. Sometimes it feels like I am navigating the open seas with only the stars, no compass and I’m terrible with astronomy.

I am coming to terms with the idea that in my need to communicate my wants and feelings, I might ruffle some feathers. I can’t control how someone is going to react, but I can be respectful and mindful in my words. The other’s feelings are just as valid as mine are and there will be times when we just agree to disagree. I am grateful for my weekend on my own. I am grateful for all the things I accomplished in that time. More importantly, I am grateful for learning to ask for what I need. I am grateful for each lesson in communication.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Morning

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Last week, I left work early to drive down to visit my Mom for the weekend. Since I was leaving early, I decided to take the old back way to her house and avoid paying a toll. It adds a little bit of extra time to my drive but does seem to be more scenic. I made it to Pleasanton Kansas where I was hit with a torrential down pour. It was raining so hard that I could not see the road ahead of me and I had to slow down to crawl. I was driving in the kind of weather that made me start to worry about flash flooding and tornados, but I just kept on going. I finally made it through the worst of it, but it continued to rain as I drove across Kansas.

There’s a section of this trip where I turn off the main highway and take a back country two-lane highway for several miles. I worried as I made the exit if I was making the right choice. I know that this part of the state is still recovering from flooding and I started to worry that I would end up hitting a section of road that was underwater and I’d have to turn around. I did see fields flooded with water, but the road remained clear. As I passed through Oologah the rain had completely cleared but I realized that I would be crossing through Tulsa right at rush hour. So then I started to wonder if I should exit the highway and drive through Collinsville to hook up with a different highway that would take me more around Tulsa rather than through Tulsa. I passed the Collinsville exit, stayed the course and had zero problems or slow downs as I crossed through Tulsa to Mom’s house.

How often do we all worry about the road ahead?

I never set out to worry about these things. It is not my intention worry, but it is still something I do. Most of the time the worry is not a crippling kind of worry that will render unable to make any decision or leave the bed. I still worry and I don’t think I am alone. It is part of our sympathetic nervous system. At one point the worry was pretty basic: food, water, shelter, avoiding predators. As all of those things became easier to come by (and in the case of predators, avoid) our sympathetic nervous system shifted it’s energy to other worries. It’s like the brain said we have to have something to worry over. Which is true. Worrying helps us solve problems and piece together puzzles. If the road ahead is flooded, then what do I do to get myself off that road and onto a safer one? There is, of course, a balance between stress and problem solving. You see, life has taught me that the road ahead is unpredictable. It can be a smooth ride or it can be treacherous.

Because of those lessons, I also know that I have the problem solving skills for whatever the road ahead brings me.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Found

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The other day, I went out to the backyard to pull some tomatoes from the vine when a hummingbird flew right up to me. He hovered right in front of my face for a few seconds and then flew up to perch on a wire above my head. He sat there long enough for me to think about running inside and grabbing my camera. Except I knew that by the time it took me to swap lenses and get my act together, that tiny bird would be gone. So instead of rushing inside, I stood very still and watched. One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three heartbeats. Four heartbeats. Then the hummingbird flew up and over the roof of our house and was gone from sight. We don’t see hummingbirds all too often around here. I’m sure if I put out a feeder, we would see more of them but for some reason I never get around to hanging one up. Hummingbirds fall into my fantastical category. I feel like such a tiny bird that moves so quickly and travels great distances must be a mythical creature.

Like the moose.

The yin and yang of this whole scene did not go unnoticed. There is this busy buzzy movement of the hummingbird juxtaposed with the stillness of watching and observing. Then there was that brief moment when we were both still. Seconds. That is all it takes sometimes to have a moment for all the other outside noises to fall away and for you to feel some peacefulness. This is a phenomenon I often experience when I take short walks. Those moments are not as spontaneous as my encounter with the hummingbird. I usually step out with the intention of paying close attention to my surroundings. I am purposeful in looking for the interesting or the unusual that could be tucked in just around that corner over there. It is this practice that has made me a better photographer. It is this practice that helps stay calm and focused. It is this practice that helps me to notice the spontaneous moments of zen.

I am thankful.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Hold still

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It is never all that easy getting back into your usual day to day after you have been out of town on vacation. I made it particularly hard on myself by scheduling my routine physical with a new doctor for the day after we returned. Then there was blood work on Monday and a phone call from that doctor on Tuesday about the blood work (more on that later, I'm fine…just fat). I had a dentist appointment on Wednesday, which was actually good and made me feel like I was at least doing something right. Michael started back to work on Thursday. So now we are officially back to normal routines around here.

What happened to summer?

Did I make the most of my summer?

I road tripped. We scootered. I ate a lot of tomatoes. I slept in until 8 AM on weekends! The Cabbage and I rode some really great roller coasters. Snow cones and ice cream were a weekly menu item. Dear friends visited and we went to the zoo and had a water balloon fight in the backyard. We ate watermelon with seeds and spit the seeds across the yard. We also filled a jar with lightning bugs and then set them free at the end of the evening. My arms have a lovely tan and my feet have flip flip tan lines. Maybe I didn’t make the absolute mostest of my summer, but I think I came pretty darn close. Also, I still have some time. Summer is not completely over just because Michael is back in school. I have plans to soak up every last bit of heat before the weather turns to crap. Or what some people call ‘Fall’. People are already talking about pumpkin spice.

Slow your roll, peeps!

All of this feels familiar. Like I’ve written it before. I think that I write about soaking up every last drop of summer every year because it is my favorite season. I am thankful for every snow cone eaten, every fluid ounce of sunscreen applied to my body, every itchy bug bite because I suck at applying bug spray, and every tomato I have popped into my mouth.

Here’s to making the most of summer.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Blinding

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I have been thinking about what I would write here for today and there are many topics for me to choose from this week. That’s nice, those times when I don’t have to dig deep to write something more than a list. Talaura turned me on to the soundtrack for the the current revival of Oklahoma (I mean, check out the guy playing Curly…swoonaliciuos) and a musical about the six wives of Henry VIII called SIX. I ride my scooter to work in the mornings while singing Oh What a Beautiful Mornin’ and No Way as I scoot my way home in the evenings, racing down the city streets. We are in the thick of it here. The heat dome has settled down on top of us and every day is a scooter a day. I ride as fast as I can get away with in order to stay cool.

My life is good. My life is privileged.

Even at times when things are not going well and I’m digging deep. My life is good. My life is privileged.

Yesterday, in my guided meditation, I listened to a meditation practice led by Sah D’Simone on abundance.

You are worthy of abundance

He asked the listener to define abundance. What does an abundant life look like? How do you measure abundance? These are my questions, not ones that Sah asked of the listener. Instead he listed a few things that one would consider when defining ‘abundance’. Happiness, wealth, success. None of these really define an abundant life for me. I have credit card debt. We live on a budget. Some times that budget is tight. I am not wealthy. In fact, I never planned on being wealthy and I don’t expect to be wealthy in the future. My definition for abundance does not include it. My abundant life comes from having a life filled with wonderful friends and a supportive, loving family. The abundance in my life comes from doing a job that I genuinely enjoy and one that happily feeds my science brain. The abundance in my life comes from loving the sweetest little dog, the brief moments of love from the cat and brushing my fingers across the soft feathers of one of the chickens. Collecting multi colored eggs from the coop and tomatoes from the one tomato plant I planted in the backyard. This is abundance.

I have an abundant life.

I think everyone is deserving and worthy of abundance.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Instagram post by Cindy Maddera * Jul 10, 2019 at 1:35pm UTC

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• I don’t have to wear a boot.

• Robin, Summer and her kids are visiting this weekend and we’re going to the zoo!

• The cat is eating his food.

• Michael and the Cabbage cleaned the house. Technically they do something every day, but they cleaned everything yesterday so it would be fresh for guests.

• Tomatoes

• A very good/close friend was in a motorcycle accident yesterday. She’s banged up, basically getting a new knee, but she’s okay. She’s okay!