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In this issue:
Desire meets reality
Valentine Burgers, Ice Storms, and Birds in Paradise
Some new resources for readers and writers
A Week of Reminders, Practice, and Small Gifts
Turns out that it is one thing to be seized by the desire to live more fully in the time we have than it is to put it into practice.
Last week, I shared my enthusiastic response to Oliver Burkeman’s new book Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals. Then this mortal went forth into a new week and felt the acute discomfort that comes with making choices. As a result, this newsletter is not the one I expected to write. I arrived at my desk yesterday with the same anxiety I used to have in high school when the teacher assigned reading for discussion or a test: unprepared, a little shocked that time flew as fast as it did this week.
Normally, I would fake it until something came out of my head and onto this page. I would dig through past notes, force the process and, in doing so, would end the day drained and unhappy with the result. I just can’t do it. This strikes me as a kind of progress although my heart flutters with anxiety even as I type these words. It helps to look back on this week and realize that even though I have not accomplished all the things I would like to have, I have no regrets. I didn’t love everything I ended up doing but I can see how each task I chose supported one of the three main pillars in my life: my family, my writing, and my friendships. Not all of them got equal time and there was anxiety about that too.
Still, when I look back on this week, I see glimmers of progress and unexpected gifts:
When I teared up during a dog training session, the trainer listed all the ways we’d made progress with Frida since her arrival, all the positive changes. She suggested (strongly) that I keep a journal so I can track and look back on our progress, not on what we are failing to accomplish. It struck me that I could do this more often for myself too.
On Thursday, I sat down to write but spent the time I would have spent writing talking with a friend and a sister, women whose voices and hearts I cherish. I told them how I’d reached for the phone this week to call my father at his assisted living facility only to realize all over again that he was gone. They listened as I shared how the weight of this and other sadnesses slowed my ability to do the tasks I’d chosen, and how unsettled I was by trying to make changes in how I went after the things that mattered in my life. How do I keep my heart and mind open? Turns out, a compassionate listener can make a big difference. I had two of them. So I wrote less this week than I had hoped but had a chance to experience compassion and practice gratitude. I can’t help but think the writing will go better because of it but even if it doesn’t, I would not trade those phone calls for anything.
I sat so long one day in front of the computer that I triggered a recurrence of nerve pain in my back and legs that woke me in the middle of the night. My mate rose and brought me an ice pack - another opportunity to practice gratitude. In the following hours, I had plenty of opportunity to reflect on the fact that if I wasn’t going to set limits and seek a little balance, my body would do it for me. I made some changes the next morning and I’m still making them.
Here are some other things that happened this week:
Valentine’s Day
Our V-Day celebration is not heart-healthy but it was good. Very good.
An Ice Storm
Last week: a heat wave. This week: an ice storm. The storm thundered in with lightning, wind, and hail. For a few minutes it sounded like a giant with a rivet gun was going to town on the roof. Then, in our San Diego backyard, for the first time ever, I saw something like snow. Frida refused to pee in the cold.
The Morning After
This ice/snow has no character. It disappeared soon after this photo.
The next morning, she finally peed but only after getting warm in her sweater. This is not the face of a winter dog.
Back to Paradise
Today, before I began to think about things, the sun hit the bird of paradise in the backyard and the morning lit up for me.
Two Terrific Short Reads
I’ve been enjoying Jan Peppler’s newsletter about exploring the ways and places we come to feel at home, sometimes when we least expect it. This week she offers us a look at the original house of civil rights icon Rosa Parks now located in … Naples, Italy.
Terrell Johnson has written for years about running and life in the Half-Marathoner. I appreciate more and more how he finds inspiration in the world around him. This piece, about how running has helped those without homes form community and find help, was a much-needed source of light this week.
So, tell me, how did your week go?
Resources for Readers & Writers
We are growing our list of resources for readers and writers so please suggest any that you have found valuable. We highlight a few every week in the newsletter but the entire list can be found any time here:
For Readers & Book Clubs
Well Read Black Girl. Dedicated to reading and reflecting on the writing of Black women, the mission of this group is also to help its community members discover diverse writers who are non-binary, queer, trans, and disabled. I was fortunate enough to meet the founder of this community, Glory Edim, about six years ago at a women’s writing conference. She has grown the group from a book club to a literary festival featuring such writers as Jacqueline Woodson, Tayari Jones, and Renee Watson. Here is the group’s reading list but check out the entire site for all that it offers those who join or support the community.
For Writers & Writers’ Groups
Jane Friedman - Jane Friedman uses her 20+ years in publishing to help writers with all aspects of their work from writing to publishing. She focuses on how the “digital age” has transformed and continues to alter the environment for writers and publishers. Her newsletters with her own offerings as well as guest posts from others have become staples for many writers who want to find information, data, insights, and classes that will help them navigate the world of writing and publishing.
That is for this week. Who knows what the next one will bring? Let me know how you are, what you are reading, the best thing you saw, heard, or felt this week. If you are looking for some good reading material, check out the books at the Spark Community Recommendations Page at bookshop.org. where every purchase supports local bookstores and generates a commission that we can use to support local bookstores once we raise enough.
Ciao for now.
Gratefully,
Betsy
P.S. Your Moment of Zen…Backyard Beauty
Maria A. looks out her window every morning to this mural painted by her friends, Janice and Anna who painted it for her during the pandemic and recently updated it with some aquatic additions.
Calling for Your Contribution to “Moment of Zen”
What is YOUR moment of Zen? Send me your photos, a video, a drawing, a song, a poem, or anything with a visual that moved you, thrilled you, calmed you. Or just cracked you up. This feature is wide open for your own personal interpretation.
Come on, go through your photos, your memories or just keep your eyes and ears to the ground and then share. Send your photos/links, etc. to me by replying to this email or simply by sending to: elizabethmarro@substack.com. The main guidelines are probably already obvious: don’t hurt anyone -- don’t send anything that violates the privacy of someone you love or even someone you hate, don’t send anything divisive, or aimed at disparaging others. Our Zen moments are to help us connect, to bond, to learn, to wonder, to share -- to escape the world for a little bit and return refreshed.
I can’t wait to see what you send!
with the long winter, a break-up with my boyfriend, uncertainty at school and I life due to covid, and the inability to travel, it all got to me this week. I know next week will bring new things and be better without a doubt and I can look forward to that.
We are "bracing" for snow squalls here in Rockport MA. Those quote marks are my way of saying that you never know how it will go, weather-wise, but we like the promise of weather. Tiny flakes now flutter past my office window ahead of the forecasted tumult. Squalls, a forecast we rarely get, says "whiteout" to me, meaning no visibility. Frida would hate it here! But she's so cute I would carry her to all her favorite places till it warmed up in April or May. I would also get her little booties!