Nature Nurtures

Over Christmas I picked up a small sign to place next to the angel of patience who graces my computer area.  It reads, "Log off... Go Outside." 

Although logging off and going outside often sabotaged my attempts at becoming a prolific writer when I lived in Santa Fe, where I went to write prolifically, I don't seem to spend nearly enough time outside these days. 

In Santa Fe the weather, the sunshine, the landscape, the mountains, the unbelievable beauty of the place, and the options for outdoor adventures made it challenging to stay inside, especially since I could not afford a place any bigger than a teeny, tiny cliff dwelling.  (I thought what worked for the Anasazi, would work for me.  I think they were smaller people than Midwesterners.)

Now that I live in the Antarctic, I mean Iowa, it takes a little more effort - in this case going the extra mile - to get out and enjoy the elements.  At least in the winter.  Fortunately, I know I will be rewarded by endorphins, exuberant dogs, and possibly an epiphany or two if I get out and a get some natural light therapy.

The key is to be prepared.  Layers, leashes, poop bags, Puffs, and snacks are the staples of my outdoor experiences.  An essential item just added to my list this evening was ice cleats.  

Yes, these fashion accessories, like many others, may prompt you to ask your significant other the burning question.  Not, "Do these ice cleats make my bottom look big?" but, "Will these ice cleats keep me from falling on my bottom?"

You must understand, even in a relative heat wave, there are obstacles to overcome in the great out of doors. Like driveways becoming instant ice rinks.  Desperate times call for desperate measures.  Pink overalls, face masks, and ice cleats.  It doesn't get sexier than that.  

I'd say just ask Bob, but I think it best we defer to the dogs, although Bob did buy the overalls.  Dogs don't judge.  The stinkier, the goofier, the more dog treats, the better!

Regardless of how I look in these getups, as soon as I get outside, I get an instant uplift. I am so blessed to live where I have the best view in town.  The Maquoketa River flows through my back yard.  Well, it does when it's not frozen.  It provides the most mesmerizing views.  

The dog walks are almost always along the river so we see all kinds of things from egrets lifting off the banks in the misty mornings to eagles posing for a photo op to the infamous "squirrels night out" - squirrels scampering from their post at the oak tree to party unabashedly with the birds on the balcony bird feeder.

One could say it's a jungle out there, but there's just too much of the white stuff to call it a jungle.  A winter wonderland, perhaps.  

So I remind myself to log off and go outside, wander about the wonderland.  When I come back, there are bound to be words waiting for me.  Five hundred, if I'm lucky.

Give a Dog a Bone

One of the great adventures for my dog Malcolm and I was to go through the drive through window at the bank.  It was a win-win for both of us.  I got money and he got a Milk-Bone.

Capitalizing on the connection that the way to the dog lover's heart is to be kind to her dog was a brilliant marketing move.  Now I only I frequent banks that hand out bones, even though my dog is no longer with me. I like to believe that kind of attention to detail carries over to my finances.

There are so many things that don't cost much but pay huge dividends in the happiness department.  How much does it really cost not to roll your eyes?  How much time does it really take to hold the elevator while someone steps in?  How much effort is really required to express your gratitude to someone going the extra 1/4 mile?

The sweet thing about behaving in ways that are kind and considerate is that you get to experience the good as well.  Who doesn't get a little happiness boost by doing something guaranteed to make somebody's day? 

Today I spent a grueling hour at the end of an already long day talking with customer service people. Remember how last week I said Sears had excellent customer service?  Let's amend that to satisfactory customer service.  

After being transferred to five different people around the country and beyond, I finally was referred to the manager at the local store who told me he could do what I requested.  Apparently the others could or would not.

I have to remind myself it is not the fault of the customer service agents that customers are asked so many automated questions and left on hold indefinitely.  They all apologize and say please and thank you as they slaughter your name.  I suspect after one customer complaint I'd be ready to quit, let alone an 8 hour shift of continuous complaints.  

Despite my growing frustration, I made a point to treat each of these individuals with respect.  I'm fairly certain I can sound like an inarticulate lunatic when I get wound up and worn down by policies that are anything but easy to comprehend or consumer friendly.  So while I couldn't promise to give them all high fives on the customer satisfaction surveys that are sure to follow, I did try to use the words please and thank you while asserting my position.

Maybe we're all just overwhelmed by how difficult it is to do things that by all accounts should be easy.  Although Staples likes to espouse the easy button  as the way to do business, Bob suffered a brutal bout of badgering with them over a fax machine he bought online but did not get delivered. 

It feels like the saying, " The customer is always right" has shifted to, "The customer is often crucified."

That's why it's so nice when someone gives a dog a bone.  We know what it takes to make someone happy.  We know that it doesn't have to be hard or cost a lot or even take a lot of planning.  

Why not carry extra treats in your pocket or up your sleeve?  The wagging on your part as well as theirs is well worth it.

PS -  I so appreciate the "bones" you've given me by spending your time reading and responding to these posts.  Consider this round of dog bones on the house!

Do the Work

 

Taking on the 500 word a day challenge has made a profound shift in my understanding of what it takes for me to name and claim a writer’s life. It’s also given me great insight into why so far I've experienced sporadic and limited success with my writing.

 

Success at anything requires takes continuous effort.  Anyone who’s been labeled as an overnight success will tell you it was twenty, thirty, even forty years in the making.  It may also have something to do with the 10,000 hours of practice required for mastery as suggested by Malcolm Gladwell in his book, Outliers.

I could argue I have easy logged 10,000 hours into my job, looking for stuff, or trying to lose weight, and I’m nowhere near mastering any of that.

It may be the combination of effort, attention, and intention that make for eventual mastery. Well, that, and loving the practice itself.

It means being fascinated by how I feel when I eat less and exercise more. Or being more mindful in the present moment than trying to retrace my steps later.  Or being open to learning as much from my students as I attempt to teach them.

It’s easy to tell myself I'll make this kind of effort when I have more time and energy. The real challenge, of course, is to exert this kind of effort with the time and energy available to me right now.

Creativity guru Eric Maisel says, “You must be able to create in the middle of things or else you will not create.”  The best time to practice my craft is whenever and wherever I can.

Before I could whip out a smart phone read a book, play brain games, or pin stuff while I waited, I learned to carry a small notebook and a trusty pen.  This taught me to observe the world in a way that has served me well. 

Instead of asking myself, "What's wrong with this picture?", I'd ask, "What's wacky or wonderful or word worthy?" Then I'd set out to describe it.

My reason for writing is not to create new worlds and invent characters that warrant their own fan clubs, but simply to witness what's in front of me and articulate it in such a way that makes you nod, smile, and say, "I know exactly what you mean," or “That happened to me, too!” 

Let’s just admit it.  Weird stuff happens to us all the time.  It takes a brave soul to blog about it.

Weaving the unsuspecting threads of our story lines together in such a way that leaves us all in stitches is a hoot for me.  Consequently, 10,000 hours seems like a drop in the bucket when I'm having fun.

I will leave you with this question.  What work is waiting for you?  Not the drudgery kind but your life's work, the I'd-do-it-even-if-I-didn't-get-paid kind of work?

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Thanks for reading!

Begin Again

It's easy to think about beginning again at the start of the New Year, a landmark birthday, or after consuming an entire box of Thin Mints.

It's not so easy on a Tuesday when the temperatures are still below zero, a month's worth of receipts are reckoning to be reconciled, and at least a half hour on the treadmill is required before my Fitbit will grace me with an 'atta girl vibration.

Never mind that I've exceeded more quotas in the past seven days than I have in the last seven months in regards to blogging and possibly exercising.  Every day is up for negotiation. If I consider compromising at this stage of the game, it's all over.

With that in mind I pick up my favorite stone, feel the words "Begin Again" etched in its otherwise smooth surface, and focus on the task at hand.  In doing so I think about the people I know who choose to do things that are challenging every day. 

I think of the students I advise who decide to go back to school while holding down a full time job and raising a couple of kids.  I think of my co-worker Rachel who gets up at 5 am to go to exercise bootcamp three times a week before getting her two little ones ready and opening our doors at 7:30am.  Or my friend Karin who is the bravest example of being her brother's keeper I know.  Or my friend Susan who looks after her 93 year old mother with the utmost care and respect.  Or my friend Linda who works two, sometimes three jobs and gives her all at every one.

The list goes on and on.  I could say something spectacular about all my friends because each of them inspire me in specific ways, with grace and good humor.  Just ask my friend Ann, aka Scooter Girl, who shared a disco roller skating Happy Birthday video I made for her on Jibjab with her Facebook friends.  

The truth is life is hard and unpredictable and beautiful and heartbreaking.   We all have our own way of taking on the challenges unique to our situation.  The way I make sense of life and marvel at both the miraculous and mundane is to write about it. 

Here's the thing I've recently learned about challenges.  Meaningful challenges energize me.  They help me focus by prioritizing my time and actions.  Just like falling in love, these kind of challenges help me remember what's worthy and funny and freeing and fabulous about being me.  

Meaningless or annoying challenges imposed on me by outside forces have the opposite effect.  Just like losing my religion, they remind me how cynical, limiting, shut down, and despondent I can become in a very short time. 

David Whyte suggests in What to Remember When Waking that the antidote to burnout is not to drop out but to engaged wholeheartedly. Brene Brown would agree. 

I know what I really want is to be firing on all cylinders as many days as possible. Having said all that, in order begin again and fire away tomorrow, my challenge tonight is to get some sleep.

Let's continue the journey tomorrow then, shall we?

 

 

  

The Way To Find Your Tribe Is To Contribute To It

Every year I vow to complete another book. Unlike my previous ones, the new one will surely be a blockbuster!  It's the story of a lifetime that is mine exclusively to tell, if only I weren't terrified to tell it.  

Last summer I tagged along with Bob and his nephew on a fishing trip to northern Minnesota.  I imagined this to be the perfect writing retreat because other than fishing, there wasn't much else to do but write.  Or so I thought.

I discovered a secluded beach, a hardware store, and other random places that held the promise of adventure as opposed to the hard work of writing. The expectation that I would produce a prolific amount of material prevented me from writing little more than a blog post.  This made me ponder the possibility that the IRS auditor might be right.  Was I just a wanna be writer who likes to take nice vacations?

What I didn't fully grasp then that I've begun to appreciate enormously in the last six days is writers write.  They don't write when it's convenient or when inspiration strikes or when they are on a self-proclaimed writing retreat.  They don't write for millions of fans who hang on their every word. They write for a small army of friends who notice if they haven't written for awhile, forgive any grammatical errors, and allow the taking of creative license to tell a better story.
 
Readers keep me more accountable than any IRS auditor ever could.  Readers and the way I feel when I write.  I pay more attention.  I am more engaged in life. I watch less television.  I exercise more because ideas tend to come to me when I'm moving.  I notice the absurdity or beauty of things in much more detail so I might share them with you.

I write to feel connected to my tribe or community.  For the longest time I believed I had to find my tribe by traveling the country, attending workshops and studying with the wise ones. I had a preconceived notion of who these people were, how they spent their time, and who I would need to be or where I would need to live to fit in.

Now I'm convinced the best way to find my tribe is to contribute to it. I do this by being my quirky self, writing what I know from wherever I happen to be, putting it out there, seeing who shows up, listening to what they have to say, and repeating often.

Clearly, I'm not for everyone.  It took me one bad blind date with a sketchy guy who revealed he'd spent time in the slammer for drug trafficking to realize that's a good thing.

But that's another story, for another day. Today, why not contribute to your tribe or community by trusting you have something of value and offering it up in a way that makes the most sense to you?

I'm betting you'll be glad you did.

Stay Curious and Just a Wee Bit Weird

I've often considered living in Portland, Oregon, where the prevailing motto is Keep Portland Weird.  I've already lived in The City Different, and I know these places do their very best to uphold their reputations.  

Now I live in Maquoketa, Iowa, where the weirdest thing today is the ridiculously cold weather, but overall is how many different ways people who are not from here will attempt to pronounce the town's name.

I like to pronounce Maquoketa in as many weird ways as possible. Often times I call people, places, and things by names other than their given name if those names don't do them justice. Other times I do simply because I can't remember their real names.  It happens more often than you might think once you reach a certain age.  

Names that describe things or people or places perfectly, I can remember.  Like Dr. Groaner, the dentist.  I kid you not.  Or Hell, Norway, one of the 7 coldest places on earth.  Yes, I'm still on the cold kick.

Words are important to me.  I'm a huge believer in what I call Name It & Claim It, especially for New Year ceremonies, birthday parties, new additions or subtractions like babies, pets, spouses, jobs, or any occasion that ushers in a significant change.

Once you get crystal clear on what you want, you are bound to go after it.  Take this writing challenge, for instance.  I've known that I wanted to write since the day I picked up a pen, but until I got clear on the who, what, when, where, why, and how - or how many in this case, I didn't get too far.  I dilly dallied and only occasionally got busy.

Until I named my intention to write at least 500 words a day for 40 days, I didn't fully claim my right to write.  I've journaled daily for years.  But that stuff stays hidden from the world at large.  It's amazing what has happened in just 5 days by letting a few people in on this adventure.  

The words wake me up.  Ideas abound and just like my dogs when they know we are going for a walk, they jump up and down with such enthusiasm I can barely get a leash on them. 

What I've learned from the dogs is despite the fact that we walk the same path almost every day, they act as if this is the most exciting thing we've ever done. They stay continually curious and always a wee bit weird.  (Like what's the allure of freeze dried fish - we live on the Maquoketa River - and why must they bring it to me like it's a treasure?)

My ideas are equally thrilled to be brought out into the light of day.  And it is very curious how the brilliance they seem to possess during the walk gets lost in translation once they hit the page and show up as the idea equivalent of freeze dried fish. 

It's as if my muses have realized they are being rewarded for their half century of silence and are free to explore and express all the weird and wonderful things the world has to offer, at least for the next 40 days. Consequently, they are not holding back.

So, stay curious, and we'll see what they have to say tomorrow.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Oh, the weather outside is frightening.  And by all accounts, it's only going to get worse. 

Although I have heard of temperatures like 50 below zero in Antarctica, Alaska, or any number of places in Russia, I've never experienced them in Iowa.  (I might have experienced them in Minnesota had I chosen an ice fishing expedition to International Falls this winter instead of the fishing trip/writing retreat last summer.)  However, it looks like I have a chance of experiencing them as early as tomorrow. 

I shudder at the thought.  Literally.

This would be an excellent time to channel my inner Elsa from the movie Frozen.  I could dance about singing, "The cold never bothered me anyway!"

How these characters can make the ice and snow look like so inviting is part of the magic of movies... at least animated ones.  I know I, for one, would never go out in the cold in a sleeveless dress and heels and cast aside my only pair of gloves.

The key to surviving this winter wonderland existence is to be prepared.  Since I don't enjoy the cold but deem it necessary to brave it on a regular basis, I've learned to layer.  Not a day goes by when I don't have a pair of Cuddl Duds nearby (and they now come in fleece, hallelujah!), ready to complete any outfit.  

I also got a beautiful pair of warm, pink coveralls for Christmas.  When I wear them I bear a slight resemblance to the Poppin Fresh Doughgirl.  Since sporting them is for the greater good of staying active, I don't care if the neighbors refer to me as that Crazy Poppin Pink Lady at the end of the cul-de-sac.

Hats, scarves, boots, and a coat in every color - or is that a coat of many colors? - complete my winter wardrobe.  Warm is the new black.  It dictates my every fashion choice.  My fashion designer niece would totally disown me for admitting, let alone blogging, about such a thing. Given my Christmas coveralls, she might already have done so since she would argue if it's not flattering, it's not fashionable.
 

Thriving in the winter requires not just going the extra quarter mile in terms of preparing the body but also in terms of preparing the mind. Today my guy Bob and I were having lunch at a place that in the summer is swarmed with bikers.  I asked him what he thought bikers did on days like this.  Without hesitation he replied, "Snowmobile!"

And wouldn't you know, within moments we spotted some kamikaze snowmobilers having what looked like the time of their lives zipping around the very snow we were treading gingerly through.

As Jim Carey in The Grinch stated, "one man's garbage is another man's potpourri."   

While I may not like the snow and ice and cold, I'm guessing skiers do.  At least the snow part.  Winter Olympic athletes must as well.  Ice fishermen  seem to, although they sometimes seem intoxicated as well. Businesses that sell winter gear should appreciate the demand for their products.


So for the next few days I'm going to dig down deep, bust out the bravado and do my best to stay warm and safe and dry.


That will undoubtedly require some hot cocoa. Let me grab some and I'll meet you back here in front of the virtual camp fire tomorrow.