Goodbye January

January ends today, leaving quietly in a still grey calm, the first storms of the year left behind, seemingly spent. As many before have observed, the older we become, the faster time disappears, and having less time at our hands we tend to waste more of it in thought rather than in action; is it an oxymoron, a paradox, or just the inevitable downward spiral into death? Ah, winter gloom does not just abound outside, but in my heart as well. I am not interested in the full spectrum light that so often brightens the corners of my office in the darker months, I am not interested in the luscious fruit that sits ripe and waiting to throw itself upon my night’s fasting, and I am having the darndest time making my booted feet walk out the front door. But I know I will do it, I just had to lodge a tedious protest first, hoping words would bring rise to some semblance of the spirit I keep hidden and small and deep. A strong breath in and a sigh…somewhere inside I have decided to ‘go forth into the world.’ And I know that it isn’t the end of January I dread, but the beginning of February.

Winter Sun

The sun is out, shimmering off the remaining leaves that flutter away on the live oak across the street. The wind has lost its icy chill, the day not warm, but welcoming in comparison to the grey weeks we have been shivering through. There is a spot on the ceiling where raindrops were dripping their way through the roof last night and landing on the rug just inside the back sliding door, informants telling of the gutters that have been clogged by the leaves and detritus left by two years worth of winter storms. Although the day beckons me out, I’m not sure it’s going to be all the way up the ladder to the roof to do chores. I know I will love the view once I am up there, and muscle memory kicks in remembering the feeling of carefully bracing myself against the slope of the roof, shading my eyes with one hand while the other I keep raised away from my body at arm’s length, balancing the rest of me against the dreaded fall that never comes. I have been up there often enough over the years to imagine what I would see; the small network of patches outlined by wooden fences that are the neighbor’s yards, green foothills rising from the busy roads a mile away, and the golden fields that stretch out to the hills that rise to become the darker peaks of the small mountains to the north and south of us. There was snow on those southern peaks for a few days last week, the rain meeting the cold high enough to leave a coating of white above our valley for those of us not too busy to look. It’s amazing the huge difference in perspective that a few feet of height can make, and I imagine rising up even further into the wind to stretch my gaze farther, watching the bustle of life around me become like an ant farm as we grow less and less important as individuals. And I find myself wondering how odd it is that the size of the world outside seems to match the size of my spirit inside; both endless and for the most part unexplored. But stepping out the front door into a sunny day seems like a good place to begin, even if the gutters don't get cleaned, no?

Trying to get ready to Vote

As February 5th approaches and the race between political ads heats up I am irritated, confused and just plain mad that we don’t have a better way to review the facts. Specifically I am referring to Propositions 94-97 that deal with the Indian gaming compacts here in California, but I am sure this is an analogy for what is happening in the rest of the country. It’s a shining moment for capitalism, he with the most money yelling the loudest. I have read about the corruption of the Pechanga Band, the charge of Union busting, and the unfairness of how four out of 104 tribes will hold a third the gambling rights in California. I have read about how ‘signature blockers’ were used to try and keep the props off the ballot, apparently so the compacts could go forward unexamined by John Q Public. I also have concerns about how the actual tax assessment will be figured, the thousands of gambling addicts who will have yet more slots to suck up their money and the resulting impact that has on society, not to mention the feeling that we as a state are being bribed big time. I then began my online search for advocates of the propositions, certain I would find compelling reasons to vote for the props, but that side of the equation was hard to find. So hard in fact that I only found one other side; money, it’s always about the money and having more of it to spend. In the beginning I thought, well this sounds good, more help to Indian Nations who aren’t involved in gambling for schools and healthcare etc. But then I read that there are over 60 other tribes with compacts, so that is much less of an impact than I originally guessed. And then more money for the CA budget, but I’m already mad about the way we overspend so why do I think having more money will solve anything? What do they say; you can’t just throw money at a problem. So while I couldn’t find anything concrete to sink my teeth into, I did come away with an impression of wrongness that will leave me voting NO on the props. I think. I still have several days before I have to mail my ballot in to be counted. At least the Presidential race is clear to me

Barack Obama all the way baby! Anyway, back to my original point, one of the best sentences I read in this three day foray of research was a comment left in someone’s forum asking about how ridiculous it is to watch the political process being played out at signature tables in front of the grocery store. The person paid to gather signatures who often doesn’t understand the issue and describes it incorrectly whether by ignorance or intent. And in front of him there is the bully (aforesaid signature blocker) who is pacing back and forth between the shoppers and the petition, voicing his concerns in much the same way. What a pretty picture that paints, I mean, I know what I feel like coming out of the grocery store, and trust me when I say I am in no mood to make a rational decision about signing anything. So now we have three suspect people in the equation and in these hands we place the power to make or break legislation, how crazy is that? So now that I have strayed from my original objection, the total waste of political ads that are interrupting my ‘pursuit of happiness’, I am spent and not even interested anymore. I’ll just use the DVR and skip the garbage. Apathy at its best, or worst, or whatever, at least I am going to vote even if it is just a crap shoot.

One thing after another

In the beginning I would stress each night as it approached 8pm, then it was every Thursday night, thinking it’s been a week, 2 weeks, 3 weeks and then I was counting the months, nine, ten, eleven. On February 16th it will have been 2 years since Joey was killed and I am still struggling. Today started with a phone call berating me for my recent blood work, my cholesterol is too high (that’s a whole other story). Then it was off to the dump and mucking about in mud while unloading the truck, I wonder that the stench doesn’t bother the seagulls – maybe they really don’t have a sense of smell, which would make sense. Later, on the way home from my brief visit to the office, I stopped at the gym and discovered that the knee I sprained last March is still not ready to bounce at the rebounding stations in the circuit, nor can I lift weights with that leg yet. My knee has been so much better that it was disappointing to say the least. And then a final stop at the Verizon store to upgrade my phone (per a message they left on my machine) ended up being the last straw for my morning; I was only approved for an early upgrade, for the full advantage I would have to wait until February 21st. And there it was, February, and the realization of the 2 year anniversary just slammed into me. It isn’t that I haven’t been aware of this, the thought had crossed my mind many times over the holidays, but for some reason today it became real; I haven’t seen my son in almost 2 years. I know I am supposed to be positive, that what we focus on expands, but how do you do that when your heart is breaking. On January 18th I began following a six week eating plan by Dr. Fuhrman, and I am counting on that to help me get through the next few weeks; something positive to focus on, working towards a healthy body to help support a healthy mind. So at least that’s something….where’s my Balance spray…

A Family Visit

1/20/08: Back from a weekend in LA to visit family. The drive down was nice, my daughter drove and we listened to a Lake Wobegon book, Pontoon. The time flew, and I am so glad that we are comfortable together, because I don’t have that luxury with my mother. It was also fun that we laughed in the same places. We were driving down to visit my mother, just a quick girl’s trip, and taking down 2 years of Christmas presents for her and my sister that had been accumulating in a large Panera bread bag in my office. The bulk of the presents were for my sister’s dog Yoda who is a wonderfully scraggly little white dog who looks like….Yoda! But cuter. The visit began on a good note, arriving in time for my Friday evening shows on TV, and continued on Saturday with a wonderful lunch at The Elephant Bar with my sister. Then back to the house for presents and games of
Bananagrams which is very similar to speed scrabble with a cousin who had also driven in to town to visit. My sister left for home and later that evening we met my brother and his extended family for his birthday dinner at Buca di Beppo and my visit home began the inevitable downhill slide. I have a series of pictures taken of my children and their three cousins from down south; the five of them had bonded over summer visits to Lake Arrowhead each year while they were growing up and seemed to always settle in quickly to enjoy each other’s company after spending the year 400 miles apart. But of course Joey wasn’t there to complete the five, and it was sad. Then at dinner watching the young men bolt their pizza and cheese bread and pasta I couldn’t help but think “like Joey would be doing if he were here” and the sadness became a consuming thorn in my breath. I had used my balance spray in an attempt to control my stress level at dinner, knowing the first visit since Joey’s memorial could be strange, and was able to keep a calm demeanor plastered across my face. But as the evening wore on I just wanted to be home and alone and escape in my book. A short conversation with my brother’s GF after dinner finished with her saying that ‘we all have something we are trying to deal with’ as she looked away, avoiding my gaze. And it just left me cold. And I know she is right, that I am not special in my grief except in my own eyes, and that we all have our own stories. But at that particular moment, having suffered through the dinner feeling disconnected and so much an outsider it was the last thing I wanted to hear. Sunday morning we packed up, stopped by one of the cousin’s for a wonderful visit with her two precocious children whom we hadn’t seen in years, and on that high note we left for the drive home. As we drove our way north listening to more of the audio book, I continued to worry that parting comment from Saturday night like a dog chewing the marrow out of bone, digging deep and trying to be honest with myself about the depth of my pity pool. I had thought myself on the way out of that cloying water, maybe not ready to dry off yet but at least out of the pool and dripping off the last drops of ‘poor me.’ But no, instead I find myself firmly entrenched, the mud of pity grasping at my ankles as I stand bewildered at the edge of the pool unable to step out onto the dry golden sands that lead to sanity. What the F***! So while I feel I owe her an apology, she didn’t know how much she hurt me, and now I wonder what prompted her to say that to me. Now that I am home, I find myself wondering what she is going through that she voiced her...disapproval? Maybe she just loves my brother and doesn’t understand why I need to distance myself from him. But in any case it has me questioning where I am in the grieving process, and looking around my messy office I know I truly am getting tired of my stasis and tired of my moping. I’ve been reading a series of Celtic fantasies, and I have one book left in the set of 12. I am thinking that when I finish reading it, when that last page has been turned, I will be able to pull myself free of the mud and start walking up the beach. It has been way too long since I’ve felt the sand sifting between my toes.

An emotional bump in the road

I stopped at the store on the way home to pick up a couple of ingredients for a vegan mac n cheese recipe I’ve been meaning to make. Standing next to the driveway leading into the parking lot was a young man, looking anxious and holding the bottom of a box on which was scribbled “homeless and hungry please help”. I pulled over and gave him the $30 I had in my purse; he was so grateful, thanking me and calling me honey while he packed up his things. Hopefully he was leaving to walk up to the bus station, getting something to eat on the way, and buying a ticket to take him home; hopefully. And all of a sudden I started to cry, hoping he was on his way home to someone who could help him get back on track, and just missing my son so much. I knew from experience to not panic, to just park in the sun and cry myself out, and sit until I could make myself calm. Too many times the flight response has found me back at home without groceries, or gas, or some errand undone. So I sat and waited, then wiped my eyes and blew my nose and left the car to shop. Then lie lie lie in the store as two different clerks ask me how I am today and I exchange pleasantries and saying fine, after all, pretending is sometimes the beginning of reality. And I had been fine yesterday, visiting with friends and driving through the beautiful bay area on a sunny day. So as lies go they were fairly pale. On the way out the young man had been replaced by an older gentleman, this one in a wheel chair, and there went the money I had just replaced. Like I can afford this! Oh well. And now I am home, and wondering why emotion is so draining, wondering about the mind body connection and what the chemical reasons are for my exhaustion. If my new Katherine Kerr book were here I would just curl up and read the rest of the day. But it’s not, and I’m hoping to talk myself out the door for a ride or a walk; maybe after a game of solitaire and a dose of Balance spray.

Stiff Hips

Walking out the front door to a sunny day and mild breeze it felt more like California than it had in weeks. And I was struck by the notion to walk instead of taking a bike ride, wanting to take my time instead of flying by everything on a whirl of wheels, the better to enjoy the weather. I had my earbuds in, connected to a CD player, so just held on to the player while I walked. One of the many projects I have left undone is replacing the battery in my ipod; I have the replacement battery that I ordered months ago, but somehow it’s never the right time to actually do the work – the story of my life these past few years. I keep intending to make a big to do list, but I can’t seem to get it from my brain to paper. I did start to clean my office today, sorting through mail, taking year end inventory of my Orenda products, sorting audio books between private and library. Amazing how much stuff can fit in one little room, piles of “I’ll do that later” sitting here and there cluttering up the space until I can hardly breathe. How I digress…..so, back to my walk, I head down the driveway and turn left heading towards the golf course. During December I took a few short walks to see how my feet would hold up – I think my plantar faciitis is gone but I haven’t been out walking long enough to really test it out. And today will be no different, my hips are so stiff I feel like I am crippled from having spent so many hours, days and years curled up on the couch reading and watching television and it’s all I can do to walk four blocks over and back. First it was my back injury, then my feet, then my sorrow, and now my knee. I feel like I am Charlie Brown listening to Lucy saying “Good Grief” with her arms thrown up in frustration. The good news is that my knee is more flexible, and if I am careful there is no pain in normal movements, and I’m able to go up and down curbs without wincing. But the stiffness in my hips is bothering me, and I’m unable to take long healthy strides. Short halting steps seem to be the best I can do, and I add another item to my mental list: do more stretching exercises! Once home I sit down at the computer to whine and moan, thinking about all the details I have to pay attention to just trying to find my way back to normal. Eat right (research, shop, cook, journal) stretch, exercise, take my supplements, get enough daylight (use the full spectrum light in the office on dark days) take time to be quiet – which should be easy given my current schedule but it’s not, it’s much easier to play solitaire than sit quiet and just breathe for ten minutes while imagining every organ in my body smiling. So my ranting and raving is about stiff hips, and how this is the direct result of my sedentary lifestyle and a page right out of ‘use it or lose it’. I have got to start moving more, I’ve been so focused on changing my eating towards a plant based diet that I have been ignoring the rest of my life. Yes, I have some physical limitations, but certainly I can be doing more, just moving more in general would be helpful. I need to test the waters more and see what I am capable of now; I need to move!