Summer in Maine is short. But every morning, at 5:45 a.m., rain or shine, I go swimming (let's be honest: skinny-dipping) in my local pond. I get up at 5, make my coffee, drive over the Sagadahoc Bridge and down a winding back road to the parking area of a nature preserve. I walk through the woods, strip down, and jump in. Every morning is the same, yet different. The sky, the clouds, the water, the animals I see. One morning it might be a deer. Another, it might be a fox, or a turtle, or a toad. The mushrooms that grow along the path after a rainfall literally bloom overnight. Every morning I carve out a little 1/2 hour vacation for myself. Even on my worst days, I know that tomorrow morning I'll be back in the pond, and it makes living in this dystopian nightmare bearable for one more day. Being naked, outside, in nature, in my opinion is the ultimate rebellion. Plus it just feels good. I advise this path to anyone who asks. It keeps me sane.
I am in love with my cats. I want to marry them. Catrimony. A mother and a daughter - big baby girl baby, and baby girl baby. The best mother daughter relationship I've ever seen. They are both expressive meowers. They are a constant source of delight, companionship and we now have our routines. When one of the cats sits in my lap that's exactly where she wants to be. We both get comfort from the body body of it. I no longer live alone. They bring out the best from me and it's pure feeling. Tran species communication. I read an article in The New Yorker that said if you live alone and have cats and die, and they do not have food for several days - they will eat you. I admit I look at that differently now. I am in love with my cats. f
Nature nature nature. Flowers are still growing, sun is still casting light on rippling water.... I spent an evening in the Redwoods- i immediately felt grounded and in awe.
And connecting with friends, cooking...
Literally turn it off and soak in the joy of being here.
But I do find that I am exhausted most days. It's really quite the onslaught
Getting my toes done. And I just joined the Women’s Health and Reproductive Rights Committee of the Women’s Bar Ass’n of NY, which I’m hoping will help me channel some of my emotions.
Cooking 2 or 3 course meals, lying in the sun and reading, long walks, listenibg to 1950s / 60s Jazz, nature, the sea, films, day-dreaming, naps when I can.
Simple pleasure: my Sungold cherry tomato plants. Picking (and eating) a few of these little orange gems reminds me that small, good things are still happening.
I'm reading and integrating adrienne marie brown's book: Pleasure Activism. It's hard to "allow" myself pleasure when I know how many people are out there hurting. But I'm hurting too, and if I can embrace pleasure and rest when it's possible, I am resisting the capitalist myth of constant production.
For July, I'm on a technology detox and social media & news diet. I'm pulling away from everything except the most essential (Zoom commitments with clients, responding to emails and the like). In August, I'll reintroduce only those projects, tasks, and other efforts that fill my creative well rather than depleting me and leaving my nervous system completely out of whack.
I relax and return to nature in my prairie garden .. I am able to block all else out and become a part of something larger .. The universe, the beginning and ending of all that is.
A friend gifted me her old Fitbit and it honestly gives me tremendous joy to see evidence that I’m staying active. When I’ve already hit 7500 steps before lunch I feel like, Well, there are so many things I can’t control, but I accomplished *this*. The satisfaction in the sense of efficacy in the midst of the maelstrom is tremendous.
Yesterday I also took an evening bike ride with my son. The day was cooling, the streets were pretty empty, and we just zipped along. I had forgotten how much I love to ride my bike. I’ll have to do more of that.
Kayaking year-round on Martha's Vineyard, ocean swimming as cold as I can stand it, playing my flute, dancing on my lawn at night, kissing the cheeks and neck of my new grandson while he slobbers all over my face. I have found unexpected joy in teaching and, working with medical professionals, the ill, the homeless all are a way for me to find meaning in my life. I am much more intentional about reaching out to those who have experienced a loss or are suffering in any way. But sometimes it can seem too much and I spend the day waiting for it to be over. Then I begin again.
I agree with Ethan that embracing pleasure is absolutely vital. I actually don't like to do political work, even though I've done a lot of it over the years.
During the 2nd Iraq war, I tried to make my contribution fun to lure myself into sticking with it. I made Picasso inspired peace banners, brought conga drums to our demonstrations. We read the names of ALL of the people who had died that week in the war - not exactly fun - but gave me chills and connected me to the people who had lost their lives in that terrible war - helped me feel more alive to what was happening.
When I was younger, I would often feel physical/spriitual/mental anguish about the state of the world. Now, that I've accepted my own death and the potential death of my most treasured dreams its easier for me to work in the garden- living in the moment.
I'm an RN, I'm always giving - which now I see as a Power like any other that can decline and regrow. Now I recognize more my own powerlessness - I let go of the anguish.
Summer in Maine is short. But every morning, at 5:45 a.m., rain or shine, I go swimming (let's be honest: skinny-dipping) in my local pond. I get up at 5, make my coffee, drive over the Sagadahoc Bridge and down a winding back road to the parking area of a nature preserve. I walk through the woods, strip down, and jump in. Every morning is the same, yet different. The sky, the clouds, the water, the animals I see. One morning it might be a deer. Another, it might be a fox, or a turtle, or a toad. The mushrooms that grow along the path after a rainfall literally bloom overnight. Every morning I carve out a little 1/2 hour vacation for myself. Even on my worst days, I know that tomorrow morning I'll be back in the pond, and it makes living in this dystopian nightmare bearable for one more day. Being naked, outside, in nature, in my opinion is the ultimate rebellion. Plus it just feels good. I advise this path to anyone who asks. It keeps me sane.
I am in love with my cats. I want to marry them. Catrimony. A mother and a daughter - big baby girl baby, and baby girl baby. The best mother daughter relationship I've ever seen. They are both expressive meowers. They are a constant source of delight, companionship and we now have our routines. When one of the cats sits in my lap that's exactly where she wants to be. We both get comfort from the body body of it. I no longer live alone. They bring out the best from me and it's pure feeling. Tran species communication. I read an article in The New Yorker that said if you live alone and have cats and die, and they do not have food for several days - they will eat you. I admit I look at that differently now. I am in love with my cats. f
Nature nature nature. Flowers are still growing, sun is still casting light on rippling water.... I spent an evening in the Redwoods- i immediately felt grounded and in awe.
And connecting with friends, cooking...
Literally turn it off and soak in the joy of being here.
But I do find that I am exhausted most days. It's really quite the onslaught
Getting my toes done. And I just joined the Women’s Health and Reproductive Rights Committee of the Women’s Bar Ass’n of NY, which I’m hoping will help me channel some of my emotions.
Cooking 2 or 3 course meals, lying in the sun and reading, long walks, listenibg to 1950s / 60s Jazz, nature, the sea, films, day-dreaming, naps when I can.
Simple pleasure: my Sungold cherry tomato plants. Picking (and eating) a few of these little orange gems reminds me that small, good things are still happening.
Writing, learning and exploring new things. Making new online connections. And occasionally enjoying some warmth and sun!
Delighting in putting on new, beautiful shades of lipstick, running at dusk, audiobooks, and ice cream
I'm reading and integrating adrienne marie brown's book: Pleasure Activism. It's hard to "allow" myself pleasure when I know how many people are out there hurting. But I'm hurting too, and if I can embrace pleasure and rest when it's possible, I am resisting the capitalist myth of constant production.
For July, I'm on a technology detox and social media & news diet. I'm pulling away from everything except the most essential (Zoom commitments with clients, responding to emails and the like). In August, I'll reintroduce only those projects, tasks, and other efforts that fill my creative well rather than depleting me and leaving my nervous system completely out of whack.
I relax and return to nature in my prairie garden .. I am able to block all else out and become a part of something larger .. The universe, the beginning and ending of all that is.
The warm weather and sunshine is what’s helping me through. And posts like this!
A friend gifted me her old Fitbit and it honestly gives me tremendous joy to see evidence that I’m staying active. When I’ve already hit 7500 steps before lunch I feel like, Well, there are so many things I can’t control, but I accomplished *this*. The satisfaction in the sense of efficacy in the midst of the maelstrom is tremendous.
Yesterday I also took an evening bike ride with my son. The day was cooling, the streets were pretty empty, and we just zipped along. I had forgotten how much I love to ride my bike. I’ll have to do more of that.
Kayaking year-round on Martha's Vineyard, ocean swimming as cold as I can stand it, playing my flute, dancing on my lawn at night, kissing the cheeks and neck of my new grandson while he slobbers all over my face. I have found unexpected joy in teaching and, working with medical professionals, the ill, the homeless all are a way for me to find meaning in my life. I am much more intentional about reaching out to those who have experienced a loss or are suffering in any way. But sometimes it can seem too much and I spend the day waiting for it to be over. Then I begin again.
I agree with Ethan that embracing pleasure is absolutely vital. I actually don't like to do political work, even though I've done a lot of it over the years.
During the 2nd Iraq war, I tried to make my contribution fun to lure myself into sticking with it. I made Picasso inspired peace banners, brought conga drums to our demonstrations. We read the names of ALL of the people who had died that week in the war - not exactly fun - but gave me chills and connected me to the people who had lost their lives in that terrible war - helped me feel more alive to what was happening.
When I was younger, I would often feel physical/spriitual/mental anguish about the state of the world. Now, that I've accepted my own death and the potential death of my most treasured dreams its easier for me to work in the garden- living in the moment.
I'm an RN, I'm always giving - which now I see as a Power like any other that can decline and regrow. Now I recognize more my own powerlessness - I let go of the anguish.
I bought a sous vide and am attempting to recreate the Starbucks’ sous vide egg white and roasted red pepper egg bites. Let’s hope it brings joy!