THANKFUL FRIDAY

There has been a lot of conversations this week that has centered around time, particularly the passage of time. I have heard parents lamenting on children graduating from kindergarten and those lamenting children graduating from high school. “How can our babies be old enough for this?!?” It is how we talked about Cati graduating. It was how a woman talked about her son graduating kindergarten as we stood in the coffee line together. At times, this whole aging and time passage thing seems unfathomable to us. For me, it is just the passage of time itself that bewilders me. I mean, I can’t keep up what is happening to the month of May and how there is only a week left of it.

This week I had the opportunity to teach a lesson on meditation, just a simple format for getting started. One of the things I like to do for this class is to start with everyone sitting quietly with their eyes closed. I tell them to open their eyes when they think five minutes has passed. There are those who last seconds before opening their eyes. Then there are those who almost make it, but not without lots of fidgeting. It is rare that someone makes it the whole five minutes without movement. I follow up this exercise with some tips on making a meditation practice easier. Things like committing to a time everyday and making a nest so that you can sit comfortably. I have them do five to ten rounds of alternate nostril breathing and then twelve to twenty four rounds of a mantra of their choosing, guiding them to count by pressing their thumb into each digit. That tactile sensation helps keep the focus on what you are doing and something you can always come back to during your practice.

During the moments of stillness, no alternate nostril breathing, no mantra, the part of the practice where you’re just sitting still, those are the moments where you can choose the speed for the passage of time. Albert Einstein showed that the speed of light in a vacuum is the same no matter the speed the observer is traveling. Time and how we perceive time is relative and today, I am choosing to slow down time. That means stopping to savor the moment before mindfully moving on to the next thing. I am doing this in practice today because I have a lot on the calendar for this summer. I have a lot of really good things on the calendar, things I want to marinate in.

I want to be ready for marinating.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

On one of our morning walks this week, I noticed a snail slowly making its way across the sidewalk. And since I find snails to be fascinating and my muse, I paused to take some pictures. I was snapping away when a small dried flower petal flew into the snail’s face. I thought at first that the snail would be pleased by this because I thought it might consider the petal to be food. Instead, the snail reared its head back and forth in obvious displeasure. Then it started to move the petal down out of its face and climb over it with its body. The snail made such a large and almost over exaggerated movement to get its body over this tiny bit of flower debri.

Later on, I was teaching my chair yoga class where I had my students stretch their arms over head and pretend to press their palms into the ceiling. Then I had them pull one finger in at a time until they made a fist. I had them squeeze for a breath before releasing and then repeating the exercise. One of my students, Melissa, made a face and said “Why do I hate this so much? It seems like such a simple task!” I laughed and agreed. It did seem like a really simple exercise, but it turned out to be something rather difficult. No one in my class that day enjoyed this exercise. Then I told my class about the snail. Just because a task might be easy for you, doesn’t mean that it’s easy for everyone. But also, the looks of a task can be deceitful. The lesson this snail teaches me is to have greater patience for others as well as for myself. Because even though a task or obstacle might actually be simple, it still requires some energy and we’ve all been in that place where we just don’t have that energy to spare.

It’s all about perspective.

Snails have a lot to teach us about how we approach obstacles and slowing down to be mindful in the tackling of that obstacle.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

When I left from teaching my yoga class on Wednesday, it was though a small octagon shaped prism had been placed in the lens of my left eyeball. Then the headache started just above my right eye. By the time I got home the prism was gone, but the right side of my head ached in an old forgotten way. Migraine. It has been years since I’ve had one of those. Like maybe not since 2009 when I gave up meat. I spent the next day recovering and marveling at the power of stress and the toll it takes on the body. Then I started laughing at every time I have rolled my eyes at comments regarding moods and celestial bodies.

I will confess that I have been on autopilot for a few weeks. I get up, exercise, walk the dog, feed the animals, shower, get dressed, give Josephine two treats, set the alarm and then head to work. And even those morning when my body is filled with lead weights, I force myself up and about. I’m just so tired all of the time, but I keep on with the same routine until I completely collapse. I haven’t looked at my color coded calendar or made any adjustments in weeks. I have a whole list of things I haven’t done in weeks, like write or do any research reading for the book. It’s not that I have stalled out. I’m just doing the basic things required to keep myself alive. This month is busy. Next month, we go to Camp Wildling. The month after that, Michael and Phenix are tagging along with me to a conference in Vancouver. The month after that, Michael and I are making a tiny trip to St. Louis to see ANdrew Bird in concert. I need to get my things together for camp. I need to make arrangements for Vancouver. I need to find boarding for Josephine. Oh! Josephine is going in for a tooth cleaning and possible removal of a broken tooth. So…I’m already worried about that and it’s weeks away.

May is Mental Health Awareness Month and there’s nothing like going blind in one eye to make one realize that maybe it’s time to check in with one’s self. This weekend, I’m going to spend some time with my calendar and see what I can dump or rearrange. Maybe I don’t need to get up at 5 AM every morning. Maybe that 5 AM activity can be moved to some other time of the day. Maybe instead of 5 AM exercise, I need to carve out some 5 AM writing time. I think it is also time to reevaluate my food menu. I feel the need to move back into smoothie land with lots of greens, berries and maybe some walnuts. Really, I’m just craving giant bowls of green stuff. And a potato. While I’m thinking about it, it is also time to make an appointment with my doctor for general checkup and a discussion of what is going on with my body.

Today, I am grateful for being able to see clearly out of my left eye.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I am obsessed with this picture I took last week. I just sit and stare at it and try to count all the dew drops. My favorite part is that tiny line of spider webbing that stretches across the top of the tulip, decorated with teeny drops of water. It’s like a string of lights around a backyard patio or a spectacular circus show of tightrope walkers. There is a whole universe here where the bloom is the sun and dewdrops are the planets. And because I have looked at things under microscopic lenses, I know that many of those dewdrops contain life. It is equal parts fascinating and overwhelming.

The opening scene in Contact begins with close up view of a receiving dish somewhere on Earth. Then the camera pans out. You watch the dish get smaller and disappear as the scene continues to zoom out and out. The scene moves out and the Earth becomes tiny and then the solar system gets tiny. It zooms out past our universe and leaves us staring at the vastness of space. When I saw this movie in the theater, this scene almost made me fall out of my chair. My chest grew tight and I struggled to breath. The emptiness and vastness was too much for me to mentally handle. In fact, writing about it now makes me slightly breathless. Yet the opposite, the zooming in on stuff, fills me awe.

It is all the same thing.

The tulip in this picture is a galaxy in the universe of this garden. Our bodies are walking galaxies in our universe of communities. It just goes on and on and it is complicated. The more you ponder this, the more complicated it becomes. I like to hold a magnifying glass up to life because it feels less complex. It is my way of simplifying the infinite galaxies. The vastness of this life is untethering, but these small little galaxies right here in our own backyards, make me grounded and present. Today I am grateful for small galaxies.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Wednesday morning, the alarm clock went off at 5:10 AM. I rolled over, stopped the alarm and then layed in bed for a few minutes trying to decide if I was actually going to get up. It took me a few minutes to guilt myself into crawling out of bed and donning my workout clothes. I reluctantly did a twenty five minute Asana Rebel exercise and then I put my shoes on to take Josephine for a walk. As soon as I start pulling my gym shoes out of the closet, Josephine goes berserk. Then I get her lead and harness out and lay it on the bed and she hops on and off the bed twenty times. Then she attacks me while I’m trying to tie my shoes. Once the leash and harness are secured, she turns her head around and bites down on part of the lead so she can use it to lead me to the door.

She’s the boss.

Josephine loves loves loves her walks and I feel real guilt for times I skip these walks on days when the weather is cooperating. As we made our way back from the park Wednesday morning, I heard the loudest bird song. I figured that the bird was somewhere in a tree on the same block we were on, but it was so loud that it sounded like it was right above us. I looked up into a small tree on my right and there was the tiniest bird tweeting the loudest song. It was not a bad song. It was rather lovely, actually, but it was surprisingly loud.

The littlest birds sing the prettiest songs. -The Be Good Tanyas

Later on, I did an internet hunt for this little bird. It was a tufted titmouse, a small bird that looks like a miniature cardinal. Also, it’s a fun name to say out loud. This is something I would have missed if I had decided to not guilt myself out of bed. The early morning is magic hour. The streets are quiet and dark and all the night time animals are on the move to get to their beds before sunup. We see possums and the occasional racoon. Just last week, an owl swooped down just over our heads as it made its way to tall tree. There is life in my neighborhood that can only be seen in these early hours. Sometimes, I don’t allow guilt to pull me out of bed. I give myself the rest my body seems to be craving and there are mornings where I don’t need the guilt trip to get me up and about. But on those days where I really have to talk myself into getting up, I don’t regret it.

The early morning hours are a gift.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I have worked late three days this week and will be working late again this evening. My job has taken up the majority of my mental space. The leftover mental space has spent one day fretting about the gas light on my car, pondering the idea of taking a day off from work to clean out my house, and dealing with Bass Pro customer service regarding a birthday gift card that my brother never received. All of this has left little mental space for writing here.

Despite how busy I have been with all of the science, this week has been a really good week. I have done a thirty minute exercise class every day. Josephine and I have walked every day except for one because of rain. I’ve eaten lots and lots of green vegetables and I have been drinking plenty of water. There have been profound yoga moments and yoga teacher high moments. On Thursday, I was able to break away from work to meet my friend Shruti for lunch. It is a rare treat for me to leave the building to meet someone outside of work for lunch. I love my group and I thoroughly enjoy going out for lab lunches, but I need to socialize outside of work sometimes.

Easter is a holiday that is full of memories that prickle. Those memories are filled with moments of when my family was whole. Recently, a friend of mine retweeted a tweet about someone looking at their childhood home in Google Street View. In the moment the image was taken, there was light on in one of the bedrooms and the person said that they could imagine their mother sitting on the bed in that room. I was so struck by this imagery that I went to Google maps and looked up my childhood home. I have not been by the place since my mother sold it when Dad was put in the VA home. The street view in Google maps was taken before Chris got sick, before we knew that Dad was not well. The antique milk jug holding up a street sign that read “Graham St.” is still marking the end of the driveway. The pictures were taken in what looks like late Spring. I say this because Mom’s azalea bush is in bloom, but her irises look like they have already bloomed and died off.

The steps of what was always referred to as the main front door, a door we rarely ever used, was the place were all of us would gather for family photos. Every Easter. Every graduation. Every monumental moment. We stood in layers on the steps while Randy set up his tripod and camera. As I see those pictures in my head right now, they play through the years and I can see my family grow and shrink with time and it is enough to make my heart crack open. There was a moment in time when all of us, every single one of us, were gathered on those front steps. So I look at the Google street view and burn the image of those steps into my brain. Then I close my eyes and I overlay that image with that moment.

I am thankful for the memory of the time my family was whole.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The transition from Winter to Spring is tumultuous in my neck of the woods. There are signs of Spring by mid-March, but then everything seems to go into a holding pattern for weeks while we jump back and forth between 70 degrees and just above freezing temperatures. The greens of the tulips I have planted in my front yard have been up and out of the ground for weeks and weeks now. Some of them look like they’ve been chewed on. The same could be said for the tulips they plant in the gardens at work. The green parts have been out of the ground for ages without any hint of a bud. I have seen this all over the city with the tulips. Even the redbuds have had tiny purple or white egg shaped buds on them for week without actually blooming. The tips of the tree branches have little swirls of red or green that just might unfurl into leaves.

I thought that maybe my tulips just wouldn’t bloom. They are old bulbs and I have been told by the gardeners at work that I really should replant every three years. They replant the tulips bulbs at work every Fall. I feel like I was doing well to plant the bulbs years ago in the first place. I am surprised every year when they pop up out of the ground. It is the same feeling I have whenever I discover eggs in the chicken coop. I found four eggs in there the other day, with Margarette hovering over them because most of them were her’s. That same day, I was walking outside at work and noticed that there were flower buds nestled inside each green swirl of leaves. These were joyful moments indeed, but when I noticed that my very own tulips also had buds, my heart leaped.

Moving from Winter to Spring is a practice in patience and humility. I always think of myself as a very patient person. Yet, the time between Winter and Spring strains my patience to the thinnest when I want everything to be in bloom with consistent days of warmth. I should not have to wear my winter coat to work in April. Some times, when I am driving to a new destination, I get slightly anxious about turning on the right street. I always get the feeling that I’ve missed the street but the reality is always that I didn’t drive far enough. This was something Chris and I would laugh and joke about. It’s always further than you think. Moving into Spring is just like this except instead of driving, I am waiting. Seeing the buds on the tulips this week just tells me that we’re close. We haven’t missed it. We just haven’t waited long enough.

Drive a little further.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

There is the slightest hint of color reflecting off all the gray, dead looking trees outside. The greens of this year’s tulips have been up and out of the ground for weeks. The daffodils and hyacinths have all bloomed and the tulip trees are blooming. Most days are still uncomfortably chilly, but about once a week we get a warm and sunny day to remind us that Winter doesn’t last forever. That was Tuesday this week. The rest of the week was rainy, even snowy at times, and gross. But Tuesday? Tuesday was scooter weather. Tuesday I rode my scooter to work with a grin on my face. Then I rode my scooter to my chiropractic appointment at lunch time. From there, I almost did not go back to work because I was tempted to spend the rest of the day, zipping around the city with no destination in mind.

I haven’t said much about my new scooter, Valerie. I think there has been a part of me that has been holding back on fully embracing a new scooter. I was heartbroken over the loss of V. Devastated. I went to a real dark place. The only Vespa dealership in Kansas City is not my favorite place due to it’s misogynistic environment. The fun of shopping was diminished. I wasn’t buying a new scooter for the fun of it, because it was time and I deserved something new and shiny. I am going to admit that for the tiniest breath of a moment, I considered the idea of not replacing V. In that moment, I thought that maybe I was over the whole scooter thing and if I wanted two wheels, I’d just ride my bicycle. Even after the new scooter arrived, I was a bit hesitant to ride. It’s not that Valerie is so much different from V, but turn the signal buttons and the horn button aren’t quite in the same spots. I have to rewire my muscle memories and I’ve honked my horn a number of times while attempting to use my turn signal.

A shift in my feelings towards Valerie began when I finally put the rack and windshield on her, along with a permanent tag. I have yet to install the front rack and after watching a YouTube video on how to do so, I decided that I would not be installing the front rack. It involves a drill and drill bits. This feels like a job for someone more qualified than I. As it is, Valerie is now as decked out as V was, minus a few stickers. I’m on the hunt for a replacement Princess Leia sticker, but I did put a lovely rainbow ‘fuck fascism’ sticker on one side. Tuesday, as I rode to work, my heart swelled up with joy and that is when it truly hit me. It doesn’t matter what color, make or model of the Vespa. All that matters is that it is a candy colored, L-shaped swoosh of metal on two wheels and that it is zippy. My friend Sarah saw me leaving the parking garage for my chiropractor and when I came back she told me that I looked so chic. This is exactly the image I have of myself on any scooter. It’s how I felt when riding my old scooter and that feeling hasn’t changed with the new one.

I’m really thankful that I did not let that tiniest breath of a moment be longer than a tiniest breath.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I am always a little surprised when we come home from a trip and find all of our animals are still living. This sounds macabre. Josephine is always in good hands with Terry, having the time of her life playing with his three little monsters. It’s the cat and the chickens that are just left up to their own devices. We basically just put out extra food and water for both and hope for the best. There have been times when get home from a trip and Albus will not show his face for days. It is around day three of being home and no cat showing up that I start to get melancholy and right at this moment is when Albus shows up, full of meowing complaints. I was telling Amani last night that we say we hate the cat, but we really love him. I mean just the other night he brought a very large rat into the dining room and then ate it. What’s not to love about this cat?

The first thing Michael did when we got home last Thursday night was take a flashlight out to the chicken coop and count chickens. All three were present and Michael and I started talking about getting two new chicks. We can’t just get one chick because the other chickens will be mean to it. You’re supposed to introduce new chickens in pairs and we started to get a little excited about baby chicks. Then I hesitated. I worried about the size of the coop and if it was big enough to fit five chickens comfortably. They’d be cosy in the winter, but crowded in the summer. So we decided to wait until we were down to two chickens before we add anymore to our circus.

And who knows when that will be.

Every year, I am surprised when I find that the chickens are laying eggs. I will hold up the egg and say “well…this is probably the last year of eggs.” Marguerette has provided four eggs for us so far this year, which was completely unexpected. It is a joyful surprise. I’m still waiting to see if the other two are going to lay any. The weather has been so wishy washy. I figure that the other two are waiting until the ground isn’t so soggy since they prefer to leave their eggs in the window well. I am grateful for the few eggs we have received and the anticipation of more eggs, but I am really thankful that we still have at least three of our original chickens.

I am thankful that our little circus is still thriving.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

It snowed here all day and well into the night on Thursday. I went to bed around nine and it was still coming down. I woke to a new layer of snow on a driveway that had already been cleared once the previous day, and I felt in my soul that I am not cut out for this kind of weather. Weeks ago, while I was staying at Heather’s and it was snowing, I sent a text to Michael about maybe going to California for Spring Break. We hemmed and hawed and looked at prices and we both agreed that we didn’t want to spend that much money to go away somewhere. We are remodeling the kitchen this summer. That is our vacation. So then we started looking at places we’d be willing to drive to and I suggested New Orleans. It meets my current criteria of temperature needs and Michael has never been.

Michael keeps telling me that he’s just going to ‘follow my lead’ and let me show him the city because I know it so well. I am not so sure that I do know it so well. At least, not any more. I’d been there so many times with Dad, just the two of us. There was a trip made once where J came with us. I think the last time I was in New Orleans was 1999/2000. It was before I started storing photos online somewhere. There’s a picture of Chris and I hugging and smiling at the camera as we stand inside the jaws of Megalodon shark. It’s on my desk at work. That was the last time I was in New Orleans. Chris, Todd and I drove down for Spring Break. We stayed across the bridge in the West Bank area because it was cheap. We had coffee and beignets at Cafe Du Monde, visited the aquarium and the zoo. We wandered the streets of the French Quarter and had our Tarot cards read in Jackson Square. We ate too much food. We spent one rainy day driving to Covington and the Abita Brewery. The dripping moss from the trees and the watercolor greens of everything made that day feel like being inside and an impressionists painting.

We laughed. We laughed so much and so often.

J died August first of 2005. Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans August twenty third of 2005, wreaking havoc and destroying so much of the city my family had grown to love. It almost seemed fitting at the time. The hurricane shared a name with my sister-in-law and all the rage and grief we were experiencing. The city is different. I am different. I don’t want to disappoint Michael, but I don’t think I am going to be able to show him the city I loved so much in my youth. The city and I have changed with age. The things I had no interest in doing before are all the things I am starting to put on my list of things to do for this trip, like cemeteries and voodoo shops, how to sneak into an abandoned amusement park without getting arrested. I am already thinking of all the things I want to point my camera lens at and how tempted I am to do all of my photography in black and white.

There is one thing that I know I can share with Michael that will be similar to my trips before and that’s the food. Sure many, if not most, of the places I knew of before that I could count on for good food have closed their doors. This doesn’t mean that food and recipes of the region have disappeared. It is crawfish season and still oyster season. Frank’s in the French Quarter with the muffaletta sandwiches is still in business. Even though I can’t eat the sandwich, I am still excited about introducing Michael to it. Buildings and businesses may have changed drastically in the years since I have been there, but the essence of the city with its rich culture and extraordinary food remains the same. This is what I am thankful for. This is what I thankful to be able to share with Michael.

Maybe I’ll come back with an exhibition of photos. Maybe I’ll come back with mercury poisoning from all the raw oysters I plan to eat. I know for sure that I will come back with new stories, new memories and a restoration of an old love.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Our current task for Self Care Circle is to create a color-coded time map for our calendars. We’re using Google calendars and we’re supposed to add events and color code them to our liking. For instance, everything that is exercise related on my calendar is basil green, work is yellow, stuff like my yoga practice and building walks are red and education stuff is purple. I’ve been adding events to my calendar all week and at one point I paused and looked at ALL OF THE THINGS and I started hyperventilating. I took a screenshot and sent it to my friend Sarah. I told her that my calendar looks unrealistic and insane and I haven’t even added everything yet. She said “That’s why you’re doing it.” She then praised me on the amount of exercise I have on my calendar and told me that she thinks I do a pretty good job with the whole self care thing. She reminded me that I exercise, I write, I make art, I do that crazy Spelling Bee game in the NYTimes, I cook and I clean.

I do a lot of stuff.

Then she said “I think you should focus on positive self talk.” and I said “I think you need to shut up.”

No. I did not say that.

When I look at the weekly view of my calendar, here is what I see. I see a lot of red and yellow. So much so that it looks like my calendar is on fire. I was thinking about this during one of my building walks, the yellow and red waving around like heat waves in my head, and the first edit I am going to make is to change those colors. I do not need to look at my calendar and feel like my life is on fire. The next changes I plan to make is to add some events. One day this week, while standing out on the work patio at tea time, I watched a young man with a backpack, wearing headphones while roller skating down the sidewalk. Actually, to just call it roller skating is an injustice to what this young man was doing. It was a ballet on wheels. He roller danced his way down that sidewalk with ease and confidence and I knew right then and there what event needed to be added to my calendar. I am replacing my usual Wednesdays at Heather’s (she’s leaving today for her new job) with Roller Skating Wednesdays. I am also adding some rest events because if you were to look at my calendar now, you would say “Cindy! When are you ever still?!?!?” Events like ‘sit on the couch for an hour and squeeze my dog’ seems like a necessary item to add to the calendar.

Really, I need to remember that all the things in my calendar are intentions. There were only three days this week where I crawled out of bed early enough to do both thirty minutes of exercise and walk the dog. The intent was there; the body just wasn’t willing (probably because I never have an intention for resting). My personal yoga time happened twice this week. I am super busy at work right now and I just could not carve out extra time for my mat. Hey, but here are the things I did do. I walked the building multiple times a day. I did my job and I did it really well (science is hard). I spent time with friends in the evenings. That wasn’t on my calendar at all. I did some writing. I made some art. I checked in with some friends I hadn’t talked to in a while. I rode my scooter. I made Queen Bee four out of five days this week.

Why is it so easy to fall back into a mindset of only seeing the things one didn’t do? Today, I am grateful for all the things I did do.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I’ve been staying at Heather’s since Tuesday because I was dog sitting for her while she travelled to Virginia to finalize housing and paperwork for her new job. Tuesday evening, we had dinner with another former coworker before Heather walked me through the details of feeding times for both beagles and medication times for one beagle. She left the house sometime around 4:30 AM the next morning and I spent Wednesday evening alone with two beagles in a mostly packed up house. One would think that with all that quiet, I might have used the time to work on some personal projects. Instead I languished on the couch, idly scratching beagle heads while watching season three of Search Party.

I woke Thursday morning to snow and the news that Russia had invaded the Ukraine. Then I pondered what this means for us as a country, as well as what the impacts are going to be globally. These events are the ingredients of a world war, but having the ingredients doesn’t necessarily mean we end up baking that cake. Looking at the images coming out of the Ukraine makes it all seem so surreal. These are metropolitan cities much like New York City or Chicago being bombed, with people like you and I being displaced from their homes. We are not talking about small villages here or a less affluent nation. Many a Nobel Prize winning scientist have come from the Ukraine. I think the concept of what this might remotely be like for these people is completely lost in this country. The destruction of our towns and cities come from natural disasters. Attacks come from within, like Texas where my partner and myself could be investigated for child abuse because we support his trans child. Attacks come from our neighbors, not invading countries.

The last battle fought on American soil was in the Aleutian Islands during World War II. Before that, it was the Civil War. Today’s Americans do not know the consequences of war unless they had a family member/friend die in Iraq or Afghanistan. We live in a bubble. Yes, sometimes horrific stuff happens inside that bubble, but war happens outside of it. This makes us very fortunate and I am grateful for this privilege. For this, my mantra this week is a simple one:

May we not forget to have gratitude for our privilege by doing what we can to support those who have been displaced by war.

I found this article about meaningful ways to help the Ukraine to be very useful: 8 Meaningful Ways You Can Help Ukraine. There are a number of links provided in that article for making donations.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I’ve rolled the ‘sleep well’ block for the last two weeks in a row. Both times, I have laughed and questioned the meaning of those words. Is it a wish or a command? Either way, it doesn’t work. My sleep always gets wonky around my menstrual cycle. This is also the time of year that I tend to revert back to the sleep habits formed when Chris was sick. Those things combined have had me waking up from odd, sometimes horrifying, dreams at various hours throughout the night. This week in particular was a doozy for the dreaming. In one night, I had a horrible fight with a dear friend that had me waking up yelling in anger and then Josephine was in an awful accident that had me waking up wailing in grief and terror.

Before the horrible dreams, there was one dream that was so odd and ridiculous. I’m not sure what was happening. It was sort of an Outlander meets Fringe situation. I was standing with the group of people I had just time-alternate-universe travelled with when a group of ‘native’ men came riding up on various animals. There were the usual things like men on horses, but two in the group were riding giraffes. This visual of men riding giraffes is ridiculous and wonderful. Every time my brain has tried to skip back to replay the horrible dreams, I have forced myself to remember men riding giraffes. Then, on Wednesday night, I dreamed of planting a garden. It seemed important in the dream for me to plant lots of peas and salad greens. I stayed long enough in the dream to watch things sprout and to see the vines of peas wind their way up the elaborate trellis I had built for them. It was the nicest dream that I have had in a long time.

The next morning, I lingered in bed knowing that my car was already under a layer of snow and that I wouldn’t be going anywhere thanks to the eight inches of snow that was falling on our city. I snuggled down under the blankets until Josephine finally nudged me and even then, I got up only long enough to open the bedroom door to let her out. I stayed there another hour or so before finally getting up. I still did my exercises. I even took a shower. I still did work stuff. I just did all of the things without any rush to get them done. I hate the snow, but I needed this snow day.

Today I am grateful for my wild imagination that brings visions of men riding giraffes and green growing gardens. I am grateful for a surprise day of restfulness and time to ponder those visions.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

I am thankful for every time you made me laugh.

I am grateful for the rare times I made you laugh.

I am thankful that I only need one hand to count the number of times we ever really fought.

I am thankful for the ways you challenged me to be better and to work smarter.

I am thankful for the balance, both mentally and emotionally, of our relationship.

I am grateful for all the ways you supported my dreams and ideas.

I am grateful to the value you gave to the words that I spoke.

I am thankful for the moments when we struggled.

I am thankful for the moments when we succeeded together.

I am thankful for all the ‘firsts’ I had with you.

I am grateful for being a witness to your brilliance and wit.

I am grateful for all the photos I have where you are looking at me instead of the camera.

I am thankful for the photos I have of you looking directly at the camera.

I am thankful that I was the one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

I am grateful you showed me how a relationship should be.

I am grateful for every moment.

I am thankful that time has not depreciated or diluted my feelings for you and all of the above.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

This year’s 52 week photo project happens on Sunday mornings. I clear a space on the dining room table. Then I roll out the mindfulness dice that Michael gave me for Christmas and set them up in some sort of structure. I take a number of pictures and then I sort through them for the one I think looks the best. I do some minimal edits and then post. This is my method. Last year, it was the same method, just on a different day. This year, I’m posting the 52 photo project to more than one place. I finally decided to renew my flickr account, so I have unlimited photo storage. This also helps me keep track of things. I am terrible at organizing my photos, but if I am really good about creating albums when I am doing specific photo projects.

I didn’t have this available to me last year. I thought I could just get by with using Instagram and let my Flickr membership go. Technically, I could have still used. It was just that I was full on storage with the free version. I would have had to delete photos to make room for new photos. I am really good about throwing away tangible things, but not digital things. So, the 52 week project went to Instagram. Each week, I would scroll through my Instagram photos before posting the newest project photo so I could make sure I was on the correct number. It was kind of messy. So, I fixed that for this year’s project and I am really glad that I did. It is really nice and somewhat rewarding to go to one folder and see all of the pictures for that project.

Since this year’s project involves dice, I would expect a certain amount of randomness from picture to picture. I know it has only been five weeks, but the words ‘let go’ have appeared in three out of the five pictures. ‘Trust intuition’ has appeared twice, as well as ‘find joy’, but ‘let go’ has been the most persistent. Because of this persistent mindfulness block, I’ve been stuck on the idea and concept of ‘let go’. It doesn’t say ‘let it go’, inducing me to break out into song (you know the one). It very clearly says ‘let go’. My interpretation of this is multilayered and wrapped up into the emotional constraints that I put on myself. I have just started reading Emotional: How Feelings Shape Our Thinking by Leonard Mlodinow. I picked it up for research purposes regarding something that I am writing and hopefully shaping into a book. I am not far into this book yet, but I am far enough in to know that this just might be some relevant reading material.

Leonard Mlodinow begins the book with a story about his parents, both of whom survived the Holocaust. His mother tended to approach every situation with an over dramatic reaction. Something as simple as a breaking shoelace became “Oh, the horrors! The Nazis are coming. All is lost.” His dad was the opposite. Everything was met with a calm even reaction. Mlodinow became curious about how two people experiencing the same horrific traumas could have such different displays of emotion and how the way they display those emotions affect how their children understand ‘normal’ emotions. Oof…those are some very interesting questions Mlodinow is asking and why the ‘let go’ mindfulness keeps showing up for me. Sometimes, what you have been taught and shown to be ‘normal’, is not really all that normal.

I am grateful for the mantra this week of ‘let go’. I have said these words to myself as I layed in savasana and allowed myself to have no judgment as the tears have fallen from my eyes. I have not had a tear-free savasana since before January. I have said those words this week when despite my tired body, I thought I should be doing more things, be more active. I skipped one day of exercise, but made it to my yoga mat every day. I felt those words this week when bitterness and resentment have risen up inside me, threatening to spill out of my mouth (or at least my fingers). I can’t explain this one; bitterness and resentment has just been present this week. I will allow myself tears of sadness and joy. I will allow bouts of frustration. I allow myself human emotions. I am letting go of containing myself inside the restrictive emotional box of my own making.

It is a mantra that must be practiced and repeated often.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Today, I am meeting my friend Nurse Jen, for lunch. She was our camp nurse at Camp Wildling, but she’s also a nurse in real life, working in very stressful conditions at a local hospital. She posted something in her timeline earlier in the week that made me think that she had more than reached her limit of dead people and COVID. So I reached out to check in with her mental health. We made a plan, set a time and a place and everything, to meet. I felt like I deserved a gold star for following through because I am usually in full turtle mode during the winter. I can’t wait to see her and do what I can to lighten her life a little right now, be some ears to things she needs to rant about and some healing comic relief.

Follow through….sometimes that is not my forte.

Michael made reservation for Farina for my birthday last weekend. We knew the restaurant was going to be fancier than our usual restaurant experience, but I don’t think either of us were prepared for just how fancy it turned out to be. On top of the impeccably placed table settings and service, the food was exquisite. I started off with a gin cocktail and dozen oysters. Michael started with carpaccio, which is basically a plate of thinly sliced raw meat. He’s had this dish before at another restaurant and when I tried it, I told him it tasted like nails. He assured me that this did not taste like nails. My oysters were followed up with a shrimp and pasta dish that was light and lemony and spicy. Michael had roast served on saffron risotto. We were both so pleased with the meal and the experience that I suggested we put this in the budget. I said that we should pick a new fancy place once a month or every other month. So we did. We didn’t wait or hesitate. We sat there and parrused restaurants until we agreed on one and then Michael made reservation for February.

It was a very satisfying moment.

My friend Alice, when she introduced me to her partner, said “Cindy is the person who says she’s going to do something and then does the thing she said she was going to do.” I was surprised by this. I am still surprised by this observation of my personality. I feel like, oh so often, I fail to follow through with things that I want to do. I realize now that you, the audience, have no idea of all the things I don’t end up doing because I don’t ever say the thing I want to do out loud. For every one want that gets voiced, there are twenty others inside my head and it is the twenty other unvoiced wants that I end up fixating on. My plans with Jen, the advanced reservations with Michael, both of those things were spontaniouse moments. They are moments where I didn’t hesitate or pause to over think the pros and cons. I just took action.

I’m grateful for the reminder that I am the woman who says she’s going to do something and then does the thing she said she was going to do.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Every morning, while Michael and I are getting ready for work, I will tell Alexa to play some music. Sometimes I tell her what to play, usually a playlist that I have curated of music that both of us enjoy hearing. Sometimes, I just let Alexa decide what we’re going to listen to. When it’s our birthdays, I ask Alexa to play songs from whatever year we were born. The first time I did this, it was Michael’s birthday and the first song to start playing was one by Creedence Clearwater. I don’t remember which song it was, but I looked at Michael and said “So….this was 1975?”

Yesterday, when I asked Alexa to play the hits from 1976, the first song to start playing was Don’t Go Breaking My Heart, by Elton John and Kiki Dee. All the songs that followed were similar disco roller skating songs, with the exception of Paul Simon’s 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover. As I swayed my hips from side to side, dancing to this music, I thought “this explains my love of roller skating.” It made me chuckle. I am a toddler of the seventies with my little toddler ears hearing the Bee Gees swirled together with Eric Clapton and Alice Cooper. I am a child of the eighties where I started to lean towards punk rock and alternative artists while still tuning into the tunes of Debbie Gibson and Tiffany. I am a teen of the nineties with grunge and hip-hop and still more alternative music.

I’ve been fortunate to be part of such diversity of musical influences.

I received so many messages of love yesterday. Even the Cabbage sent me a birthday text. Thank you. My dear friend Amani called to FaceTime, which we’ve never done with each other before. I have to tell you, when her live face popped up on my phone, my heart leaped. It was such a joy to see her and laugh with her and oh, how we laughed. I’m sure the people in my office were wondering what the heck was going on, particularly when I got up to draw on the whiteboard to explain to Amani something about work. Which then we laughed even more. It was like we just picked up where we left off from camp. I usually cringe at the idea of talking on the phone and FaceTime makes me want to put a bag over my head, but this was so so nice. I am softening when it comes to communicating by phone and FaceTime.

My birthday is one of those days that tend to be difficult, but not because I am turning a year older. It’s just difficult. Some of you know why and the rest of you don’t need the depressing details. I approach the day with the no expectations and no sudden moves. I just sit back and take in all the well wishes and what a blessing it is to have so many messages of love that I can’t keep up with all the thank yous.

So, with all of the intact parts of my heart, I thank you for the messages of joy.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

When Chris and I moved to Kansas City, Heather was one of the first people we met. Well, I met Heather first through work, but she pulled Chris and I into her orbit pretty quick. Over Christmas, we took the Cabbage with us to Terry’s house for a gathering and at one point the Cabbage asked me “How do you know these people?!?” I looked up at the scene taking place in front of me. Heather, JP and Terry were in the middle of a seriously ridiculous conversation. Billy was stealing cheese cubes off the table. Greg found his way into Heather and Terry’s conversation. Dean was snuggling with Melvin, Terry’s newest rescue pup. All around us, the room rippled with chatter, love and laughter. “Heather introduced me to Terry and Greg. Terry introduced me to the rest of this gang. And all of these people are the very best people in Kansas City that you will ever know.” I replied to the Cabbage.

That is no lie.

Heather is the reason I know Terry and Greg and JP. Heather is the reason I have friends in Kansas City. You just reach a certain age where making new friends and keeping connected with new friendships is difficult, but that hasn’t been the case where Heather is concerned. Soon after we met, Heather took a new job that had her moving out to California. She was not here physically when Chris passed away, but she was with me virtually as I sat in the middle of our bed waiting for hospice to take Chris’s body away. She chatted me through the moment, reminding me that I was not as alone as it might seem. Over the years, there have been many many many texts and visits. Heather moved from California to Colorado to Wisconsin and Michael and I both have visited her in two of those locations. Crabinsgiving was a Heather production that brought Michael and I and Michelle (another beautiful human introduced to us by Heather) and new friends, Maria and Mateo and Heather to a cabin in the Point Reyes National Seashore. We ate lots of shellfish and laughed and laughed and laughed.

Heather is currently between gigs and is living temporarily in one of her rental properties here in Kansas City. She’s living in the best one because it is the house closest to ours and we can walk to each other’s house. We’ve been going back and forth between houses for weeks now. At least once a week, I am at Heather’s for pilates because she’s doing teacher training and I’m her guinea pig. My back went sideways last week and I’ve been in pain ever since, but after class last night with Heather, I actually felt human again. Then she filled me with Indian style chickpeas and rice before sending me home with enough leftovers for lunch the next day.

I am not happy for the whys of Heather’s recent stint in the metro, but I am grateful for this time we are getting to have together. My plan is to soak it up until her next big move. Then I’ll live vicariously through her adventures in a new place until I can go visit. More than anything, I hope that I have been as supportive of her in this down time as she has always been of me. Michael and I have definitely filled her up with food and wine on many an evening. Food is our love language. On top of all of the support, I hope that she knows how grateful I am to have her around because her presence is good for me. She is unstructured where I am all structured and the combination of these two traits balances me.

Michael once said something to me about the people I know, something about their quirkiness. I replied “I collect interesting people.” It’s a nice collection to have.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

We’ve just made it through the first week of the new year and I sure hope everyone has survived. I know that I struggled a bit to get back into my usual routine. The intention was set. My work out gear is sitting in my desk chair in anticipation of me opening up my computer and playing one of my online fitness classes. Instead of getting up to exercise, I lingered under the warm blankets of my bed with Josephine snuggled in next to my hip. I did get on my yoga mat and I did my daily building walks. I ate less cheese this week. I got some evening exercise time in playing Beat Saber. Mostly though, I sat on the couch reading every evening.

The thing that is different about this week versus other weeks is that instead of mentally berating myself for not getting out bed to exercise or spending too much time sitting, I have whispered “have patience with yourself” under my breath, with eyes gently closed. I started teaching a chair yoga class this week and was feeling anxious about it. It has been years since I have taught a chair yoga class and it seems like it has been years since I have taught to a live studio audience. I struggle with the perception that a chair yoga class is not challenging and sort of pointless. In fact when I mentioned that I was teaching this class, a few people said to me “what even is the point of chair yoga?” But my anxiety melted away the minute I started teaching. Not only was the class very well received, but it felt really good to teach and I allowed myself to soak up that feeling of doing something well. It was a reminder that sitting still in a chair is just as effective as sitting still on your mat (or couch).

I have told myself that there is nothing wrong with wanting to practice some hibernation. The attempts to force myself away from this practice has always led me down a self destructive road of exhaustion and disappointment. Because my natural instinct and tendencies lean towards winter hibernation. Yes, I have made personal goals for this year, goals that require me to buckle down and work both physically and mentally. But I will also tell you that part of those personal goals is to work more mindfully and to pace myself. I am easing myself into this year like easing into a swimming pool of cool water, dipping my toes in first, all while patting myself on the back for dipping my toes in at all.

This year, Michael gave me a set of mindfulness dice to use for my weekly photography project. When I rolled and placed the dice for the first picture of the project, it was the block that read “trust intuition” in bold red that stood out for me the most. There are times when I need permission for certain things and this block felt like this was my permission to not just trust my intuition but to honour my natural instincts. This week, I am grateful for trusting myself.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Josephine turned seven last week. I did not mention it earlier or make a big deal about it. She got a haircut and a new bone. Then I cradled her like a baby and showed her pictures of herself when she was a tiny puppy. Goodness, she was so little. I felt my heart lurch when I realized she has been with us for seven years and then I whispered to the God of puppies to please slow down time.

I’ve had a number of friends who have had to say goodbye to their elderly pets this year. When Chad and Jess lost Moses early this Spring, every time I went to their Instagram feeds, I would burst into tears. My friend Kelly and her husband said goodbye to their Sadie just this week and my heart aches for them. My friends, when you lose a pet, we are all mourning that loss with you. It just seems so unfair that these creatures who make such a positive impact on our lives do not get to stay with us through the whole of it. Oh wait…that happens with some people too, but at least with dogs, you go in with the knowledge that they can’t stay with you forever. This is why I do not celebrate Josephine’s birthday. Instead, I focus on celebrating her everyday existence.

When I took her to the groomer’s that morning, she walked in and happily greeted every person in the room. She was so happy and wiggly to meet new people, but as soon as I turned to leave, she froze with a look of shock on her face. I could almost hear her tiny voice say “But wait…what’s happening here? Are you leaving me?!?” When I ask the groomer how Josephine behaved, they always tell me how lovely she is. “Schnauzers have a reputation for not being nice during grooming.” This has been said to me more than once. The best thing about picking Josephine up from the groomer’s is when they bring her out and she sees me. Then she tries to frantically run to me, but can’t gain any traction on the tile floor and she just ends up running in place like a cartoon character until I get to her. Then she throws her tiny body at me, jumping up and down as if begging to be picked up.

This is really not much different from how she greets me at the end of every work day. No one in my life is as happy, excited and elated to see me as Josephine is. It might be true that she is always happy and excited to meet a new friend, but all that joy and excitement is multiplied tenfold when she sees me. If I leave her with Michael for a weekend, she mopes around the house until I’m home, sleeping in my bed all by herself. She intently listens for the sound of my car and will be waiting right on the other side of the door when I get home. The minute the door is opened, she attacks me with love.

I am so grateful to have this little dog in our lives. Josephine encompases everything I could ever ask for in a dog. She’s sweet and smart. She’s silly and sometimes naughty, but not too naughty. She’s hilarious and she’s a cuddler. She loves me with not just her whole heart, but with her whole being. I hope she knows that I feel the same way.