Tag Archives: life

reverb10: brisk moments

December 7, 2010

Okay, I signed up for #reverb10. It’s the now annual event, the continuation of #best09 from last year. A prompt a day, all month long, to contemplate 2010 and reveal 2011. In the way of my world, the evening after I signed up, I discovered a new Twitter book club and I joined in for that, too. So this will be a busy month.

December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)

This one is hard, very hard. I mean, I can think of one moment vividly but it’s not a nice one. I accidentally poured boiling water on my hand a few months ago. It’s still healing. That definitely stabs my memory, but I’d rather it didn’t. So let’s not go there.

Nice moments are so much better, don’t you think? Some very nice times stand out, but they aren’t vivid memories. I recall them in swirling pastels, not streaks of bright colors.

I was reminded just a few days ago of times I feel invigorated and full of life. Brisk walks. I don’t walk nearly enough these days. I walk to do errands at work daily but most of the time it’s more of a stroll with company. Last Friday I was out on my own and temps were low, so I walked fast. And I noticed how great I felt. I was locked in my own world (that’s how I walk solo), so I can’t tell you the details. But I can recall the moment I noticed. I was walking by a parking garage on a dirty city street, nothing picturesque or quaint, no harmonious sounds, just street traffic in the distance. But the air was very brisk, the world was very crisp, and I felt good.

I used to walk a lot, long ago. I grew up in an area with dense population, no busing where I lived as the schools were not miles away. So I always walked to and from school and my walk was close to a mile for many years, over a mile each way a couple of years. For college, I lived in one of the dorms on the outskirts of a spread out campus and walked a lot each day, miles, back and forth between home and classes a few times a day, mostly long treks, not short bits that add up. But now I live in a town where I’m too far from work and from stores to walk to work and to run errands. I should take up walking as exercise and I have tried from time to time, but it never sticks. For years I walked my sweet kitties, taking my mostly indoor boys out for supervised outings several times a day. That was my walk time, but we mostly meandered around my lot and in the woods behind my house. I truly treasured those times and felt alive then, too, but they were not real exercise. And without my guys, I avoid going out where we used to go. Maybe last week was a reminder to move on and start walking again.

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reverb10: word and word

December 2, 2010


Okay, I signed up for #reverb10. It’s the now annual event, the continuation of #best09 from last year. A prompt a day, all month long, to contemplate 2010 and reveal 2011. In the way of my world, the evening after I signed up, I discovered a new Twitter book club and I joined in for that, too. So this will be a busy month.

The December 1 prompt (yep, already behind), is: One Word. Encapsulate 2010 in one word. Then jump ahead a year; what would you like to the word for 2011 to have been. (Author: Gwen Bell)

It’s very hard for me to think of a word for 2010. My life flowed on all year but nothing major happened. I started to think of words like waiting, asleep, and on-hold. But I wasn’t asleep and my life hasn’t been on-hold; I just kept going on an even keel. Looking back, I think I’ve been adapting and adjusting. 2008 and 2009 were hard years with a lot of loss. I think I spent 2010 trying to come to terms with things and accept all of it. I wasn’t consciously doing that and I know I haven’t totally accepted it all, but on reflection, I think that was my mode all year long. It would be nice to say my word is acceptance, but I’m not sure I’m there yet. But one word for the year is adjustment.

On the other hand, there is something that does stand out in my mind right now. I’ve jumped back into reading this past year, reading avidly. In college and in the years that followed it, I read a lot. Then I lost that, mostly because I went through a period when I was busy working long, long hours on projects at work, and got behind with the massive amounts of comics I collected and then felt I had to catch up on them before I could start a book. So I only read books when I was traveling, on planes and during visits away from home. That lasted a while, decades, in fact. A few years ago, I called a halt to that. I stopped buying comics to add to the backlog. I got a library card and I also dug through some unpacked boxes of books in my cellar. I rediscovered my love of books. And looking back over 2010, that is the one activity that I see not just being a part of my year but intensifying all year long. So another word for 2010 is reader.

And what do I want for 2011? To be able to look back in a year and have a sense of satisfaction with the year that will just have flown by? I’d like it to be growth. I’d like to reach my acceptance and move on. I’d like to try new things and I’d like to improve who I am. I know we can always be doing this, should always be doing this, but I don’t feel like I did that much this past year. And so I call it out for 2011.

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it’s the little things

January 7, 2010

2007crocus3

December, as each year ends, and January, as another year starts, bring out a lot of talk about goals and plans, and hopes, dreams, and aspirations, for hearth and home, for work, for family life, for spirit, for health, for, well, everything. This has started me thinking, not about major life changing goals, although that would probably be a good idea, too, but about simpler things.

Such as….

I want to pay more attention to the pleasant small things in my life. I tend to rush around or run on autopilot a lot. I run through chores while dwelling on the next thing I need to do or maybe thinking of some larger issue. That’s a good thing sometimes; I need to work that way through some of my morning routine, to get a lot done at home before leaving for work; I’d rather it go quickly as opposed to having to wake up earlier (I rise at 6am as it is). And it helps make morning chores more palatable, at least for me. I know there’s honor in honest work, really, I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to dwell over cleaning out cat bowls and litter pans, or even brushing teeth.

But I don’t need to ignore things around me all the time. I know I don’t really do that — who can? — but sometimes it feels that way.

So here’s to some of the glossed over pleasures…things that I want to notice and then stop a moment to savor…

    The aroma of a freshly opened package of tea
    The first sip from a steaming mug of tea
    Juliet’s soft purr and her sweet furry belly
    Channel surfing on the radio and catching an old favorite
    Figuring out the catch/theme in the crossword puzzle
    The delightful taste of a bit of dark chocolate
    The satisfaction of a good hair day
    The warmth of the sun on my hands
    The ahhh of reading a good book
    The beauty of a particularly clear night with a low moon
    The song and the excitement of birds piping in the bushes just outside my window
    Breezes in the spring and summer

And one more thing: noticing the myriad of other wonderful bits of life I haven’t listed.

What are the sweet little things in your life? There’s likely more than you realize.

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thinking about loss

October 20, 2009

sepiafleur I haven’t posted in a while. Par for the course. I’ve been thinking about loss a lot lately.

This is a post about losing loved ones. In the past year, I’ve had (too many) losses and seen family and friends through even more losses.

In March, I lost the other half of my best buds/roomies, my sweet cat Jesse. We lost his brother Toby nine months prior, almost to the day, in June, 2008. While Jesse was still around, it was easier to handle Toby being gone, partly because I had to keep taking care of Jesse; both cats were ill before they went, and of course, because I still had Jesse to keep me company and share my homelife. As an adult, Toby had been the attention grabber and a bit of the leader between the two. When we lost him, I had more time to dote on Jesse and that was good for both of us. When he died, I felt the loss doubly hard. By that time, there was a new cat at home, Juliet, who has blossomed now as a solo cat. I took Juliet in hoping she’d be company for Jesse, but they never really clicked. Still, Juliet badly needed a home and I’m glad to have her with me. She’s affectionate to me, but my loss is still very deep. Jesse had been with me almost 16 years and I will always miss him and Toby. They were truly my soulmate cats.

I also lost two aunts this year, one my uncle’s companion and later my mom’s kid sister. Both were dynamic, smart, and interesting women. Both were elderly and I know we all expect the losses, but it still hurts when it comes.

Then recently came a huge loss. One month ago today, my mom passed on. She was one of the most important people ever in my life, not just because she gave me life. We lived on opposite coasts, but her presence was significant every day; it still is. I spoke to her twice a week usually, sometimes more, and as much as I disagreed with her about a lot of things, I value all her knowledge, common sense, advice, opinions, and ideas. I knew I would lose my mom someday, she would have been 93 less than a month after she died. But it’s made harder due to her suffering, lingering on with complications and in pain after what should have been an easy surgery (though no surgery is easy at 92). Mom spent the last 3 months of her life in the hospital with a couple of week stays in a rehab care facility. She had severe pain for much of that time. She begged for death some of the time. It was hard to see but I know it was harder to endure. Mom was a loving woman, with strong feelings about family and a lot of love for us all. It was a bad ending to a great life.

Anyway, there’s no point to this post. It’s just venting, I guess. Not a celebration (maybe that will be next), not a lesson, not really even an observation. I guess it’s a lot like death: it just is.

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