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As I was writing my earlier post, reflecting on how I have been spending my days of late, I came into awareness of what is missing from my list of ‘have dones’ and ‘been doings.’ This ‘what has not been being dones’ crept into my consciousness slowly but pushily and even with insistent shhh-ushing, the ‘what I have been missing’ and the ‘what you are not doings’ want out. So here they are ~
reading for pleasure (I was shocked at this one as I almost always, as in all the time, have a good book or two being read) ~ learning digital photography ~ having one-on-one time with my grandkiddos ~ writing creatively ~ writing about my identity and experiences of being a Korean adoptee ~ spending more time outside in the big natural world
I guess some of these things will have to stay on the back burner as the studying and practice exams and flashcard making and quizzing and studying some more need to take center stage or the front burner space for now.
But I do think that a good book or two or three can be exchanged for some of the computer Solitaire playing that a certain someone has been mindlessly partaking in of late. Although there is something to be said about an aching brain filled to overflowing with huge amounts of information, facts and fiction (don’t tell the DSM writers I said such a thing), just plain needing to take a break. With Solitaire, there is a reliable cadence and a wonderful sense of not having to learn or remember a thing for a few minutes. I just need to simmer down the mintues and pick up a good book. the other parts of my brain are jones’ing for a really good read.
That’s what I am. Almost anyway. From the speed of the calendar days flying by. This is the last day of the merry month of July. How can it be? How can it be that 30-and-almost-one-half days have opened up and passed, retreating to yesterday and now almost last month? When I reflect on what filled those days and evenings for this Earth Traveler, I can see that the moments and hours were not merely counting devices. Instead they were chocked full of ~
fireworks oooh’ed and aaahhh’ed over ~ ice cream eating contest won (my eldest grandkiddo took the honors) ~ paths walked ~ tasty homecooked meals consumed ~ birth days celebrated ~ studying ~ practic exams taken ~ wildlife sightings (one of the most beautiful cow moose I have ever witnessed ~ visits with dear friends ~ games played with family ~ studying ~ local festival attended ~ plenty of GS’ing (garage sale-ing) ~ computer games of Solitaire ~ prayers uttered silently and out loud ~ lots of laughter and a few tears.
No wonder I am dizzy.
The soup worked its comforting charm on my tummy and my psyche and along with several other tricks and magic, I did not enter the dreaded doldrums and have almost let go of the blues. The sun has returned after a night of heavy down pour and I am reminded, once again, how my mood is affected by this giant yellow fire ball.
The SO and I have discovered a wonderful new park and are implementing our walking routine. Poppies, of any variety, are my favorita flower and this park is covered in them and they nod their little colorful faces in approval of our healthy efforts as we briskly pass them. There are literally fields of these Arctic poppies, tranforming the greenery into speckled pale pink, bright orange, and pale yellow surprises. There is also a little pond where the geese and the ever present seagulls quarrel over turf.
The walking, the sun, and the magic soup are helping ease me back into a healthier frame of mind. Oh and the turkey I have roasting in the newfangled infomercial purchase (more on my culinary successes/failures later) is fragrancing up the Compound abode in a mighty delicious way.
in the Prince William Sound my daughter and her family are bobbing about in the deep waters in their boat. Her family consists of her husband, her three kiddos (my three grandkiddos) and their one large dog and their one small dog. Yikes! That’s alot of warm blooded folks and critters on a not so huge boat. My daughter’s husband loves his boat and he loves taking his family out on this boat. The SO and I have been out on this boat with him and the famdamily for four days several summers ago. That was enough boating for me. I love the ocean. from the shore. I would love the ocean from the ocean if I didn’t get green with seasickness when I don’t wear a prescription patch.
I love reading about people’s seagoing adventures. Has anyone read Robin Graham’s, The Dove? He wrote the book some years ago when he and I were both much younger than I/he is today. He told of his adventures sailing around the world in his sailboat, The Dove (hence the book’s name). He was a teen when he set out on this enterprise and during his two years (I think, maybe it took three years) of traversing the planet, he lost the original boat and continued on in the Big Dove, found the love of his life and married. I read of his exploits when I was a teen and was hooked. Hooked on tales of adventures. Hooked on creating my very own adventures. I was, however, and remain, highly susceptible to motion sickness; not in cars, or trains, or subways (unless I attempt to read), but definitely on boats on the water.
But I digress. This post is not about my love of reading seagoing adventures, it is about my family who are out in the big wide Prince William Sound being bounced about by the wind and the waves. We are experiencing inclement weather here in the Land of The Midnight Sun. So tonight, I am employing my imaging technique of pink bubbling this boat and all of its inhabitants, furry and non-furry (including my daughter’s husband); which means that I am imaging them encapsulated in a pink bubble of safety.
Be safe and warm dear family. I am throwing in a prayer for a good dose of happiness and contentment just for good measure. Return home safely as I can barely wait to hear your tales of advenures on the high sea.
of red beans is simmering away here at the Compound. Their warm legumey fragrance, chasing away what ails you or me or the SO. Later, the soft beans will comfort tummies and psyches, all at the same time, from the same soup bowl. There is no prescription medication that I know of that can bring such immediate relief for the blues or worries.
These cool and rainy days and weeks have me hankering for a hearty stew, a pork roast, and pots of beans. Week before last I cooked up a pot of white beans ~ chicken broth, olive oil, leeks, carrots, garlic, diced tomatoes, thyme, oregano, coarse salt, and fresh black pepper. Lordy it was tasty. and soothing. and satisfying. Today’s red beans will be simpler with carmelized leeks, diced ham, coarse salt, and black and cayenne pepper. but the minimal ingredients will (hopefully) still provide maximum solace.
You see, there seems to be a case of the blues going around here at the Compound. and the SO and I have succumbed. The blues, as some may know, can turn into a more serious case of the down and out doldrums, and we do not want nor need that to happen. So let’s hope and pray and keep our fingers crossed that this pot of red bean soup will provide the magic elixir that we both need.
being greener on the other side, that is. For me when it comes to where I want to stay or put down roots, it seems to be about where I am at the moment. When I am here in the lush greenery of the temporarily UnFrozen North Land, I begin to entertain scenarios of building a life closer to my family and longstanding friends. When I am out in the Land of Something Always Blooming, I have had patches when I began to envision a life and clinical practice there. and when I’m here at my blog, I want to write about the grasses and the fences dividing the two.
Last evening while dining with a friend who has known me for 22+ years, I was reminded that the process of deciding does not have to be such a carnival dart throwing experience. I might add that this friend is adept (very) at pragmatic thinking and separating emotional content from practical/rational choices. So she mildly asked, well have you made the lists? meaning the pro’s and con’s list of the either and the or. I did not mention that for me there is always the maybe somewhere else, slinking around and burbling up in the mix. I successfully avoided answering but we both knew from that non-answer that the answer was no. No, I have not sat down, cleared my brain, set aside my emotions, and calmly and quickly written down all of the pro/con’s of each choice, including the big and the small, the silly sounding (when emotion is excised, nothing sounds silly), the minutia.
Why? why the procrastination of using such a simple tool to help de-cloud and de-mystify this ongoing conundrum? Could it be that I am like the military character in the Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson movie ~ You want the truth? You want the truth? [yelled loudly with spittle flying] Sir (or in my case, Lady), you can’t handle the truth! *
Sooner or later I will move closer (pun sort of intended) to being able to handle the truth and will most likely sit down and make out that list. I just can’t promise that I will untangle and detach all of my emotions when I do. After all, it is my life I’m talking about. and in my opinion, what is a life without some emotions?
* paraphrasing the movie lines as I can’t be sure of their accuracy. Particuarly as I can’t even recall the name of the movie.
So it is still raining. Although there is nothing still about rain. Rain, perpetual motion, downward bound. and when it arrives on earth, we call it something else ~ puddles, dew, ocean.
And I am still studying. Flashcards. Pages read. words underlined in black .7 medium lead, then highlighted in fluorescent yellow. and then written about in the margins using .5 red lead. Practice exams and quizzes taken in study mode. More flashcards. more lead, more bright yellow swatches on paper. Information, words, phrases, names, theories, diagnoses, criteria, hypotheses, origins, malaise. memory pain. conditions of the heart. soul darkness.
A lot ~ rain ~ words ~ to soak through and through and down and around.
of rain or conversely the Rainy Season is upon us, with us. raindrops are, indeed, falling on our heads and the ever-so-green landscape. Typically the Season arrives, joins us, falls on us in August. August is our transition month from summer to fall or autumn. It is ordinarily the month when the leaves on the deciduous trees lose their green chorophyl and return to their natural state of being, all bright yellows and oranges and here in the North Land, a few reds thrown in here and there for highlights. in August. usually.
My appreciation for the patter and pounding of raindrops hitting the skylights has not waned, their sounds are comforting still. a reminder of my abundance ~ warm shelter and all that comes with the sheltering. Nevertheless, there are picnics in the hover mode of happening ~ sunny walks in the mountains in the holding pattern. and there is a feeling of the inhabitants of the lush green landscape waiting to exhale. a collective anticipation if you will. a slight biding of time for a deep inhalation of the sun warmed earthy smell of a hot summer day.
Some years ago, I recognized my internal rhythm of requiring alone time. Through the years I have come to more fully understand the need to honor these inner pulls. I operate in the world with more grace and ease when I follow the ebb and flow, the cadence, of my core self. So this past week when I noticed, maybe a day or two late, that I was off center I pulled up the drawbridge and set about nesting.
My personality is a blend of introvert and extroversion. weightier on the introverted end of the continuum. I absolutely love socializing and being with dear friends and family. I also absolutely relish time alone. my psyche craves these moments. my creative self demands the time away, apart from others. after which, I return to the hustle and bustle of life among other human beings.
So this past week, it’s been me and my study materials with my SO at the periphery of my nest. The flashcards are accumulating and my brain feels unnaturally full with information, some of which is neither here nor there in the big or small scheme of anything. and now, it is time to rejoin the Land of Others and the Outside World.
I have this persistent thing I do that gets in the way of my enjoying the here and now. I count. I count the days or weeks to figure out how much more time I have to enjoy whatever it is that I am doing in the moment. Like being in the Unfrozen (for now) North Land for this summer. I started counting before I even arrived at the gorgeous and outrageously over the budget local airport. and the counting continues, every day, through out my day. The counting includes getting out my calendar, flipping open my cell which has the calendar on its face ~ for now I am counting the weeks.
Don’t get me wrong. I am enjoying a lot of my time here in the Land of the Midnight Sun, even though we haven’t seen a lot of the big yellow ball in the sky so far. But I can’t help but wonder how much more I might appreciate my days if I did not do this counting thing.
And the counting thing morphs into a another mental occupation as well. It goes like this. When my beloved dog companion came into my life when she was 9 weeks old, I immediately set about worrying about the day she would die. This worry wore all sorts of masks. I would calculate the number of seasons she would be with me if she lived until X or Y date. I would get all misty eyed watching her run and frolick and swim, her favorite, dreading the day when she might not be able to be so active. This worrying and counting and dreading didn’t keep me from loving her but I think these intrusive thoughts and worry were pretty much worth-less. When the day arrived that the world’s best dog companion died, my grief was not lessened one iota nor was I any more prepared to let her go than if I had simply expended all of the worry and dreading and counting energies on loving her even more while she was here on earth with me. and since her death, I now do this counting dreading thing with my SO.
So today I am reflecting on what this counting thing began as ~ what purpose did it originally serve in my life. Maybe it began as a means to keep me in the here-and-now by reminding me that I had more time left to do or be wherever or whatever I was doing or being. But now I overuse the technique and it is actually backfiring and taking me out of the moment and adding a dose of anxiety to boot.
Time to percolate on alternative means and methods. Time to let go. Time to be here.
