Kay Foley

Posted on March 20, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

What To Do?

This morning I got up feeling grumpy about Daylight Savings Time. I don’t like it. I think it’s dumb. Etc. And then right on the heels of those thoughts and feelings comes, I am not in Ukraine or Yemen or Syria. My country is not torn apart by war. This is how my thinking runs, lately.

I wondered and wrote in my Morning Pages about what to put in this letter. I have made lists of topics, including fun, lighthearted, or funny stories from my life; uplifting stories or ideas; meandering thoughts about all sorts of things, e.g. my interests, loves and passions, phrases from meditation or elsewhere that inspire me; as well as possibly humorous complaints and rants about things like Daylight Savings Time.

But I have a dilemma about writing about any of those things at the moment.

Maybe everyone desperately needs lightness from somewhere, a cheerful letter, a post that is upbeat and forward-looking, in the midst of the terrible news of the world. Or is that disrespectful? On “Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me” last Saturday one of the cast members was joking about how handsome and cool Volodymyr Zelenskyy is, talking to the press in a t-shirt. The audience was laughing and Peter Sagal said maybe she needed to go take a cold shower. Really? Is this funny? Or appropriate? Do people really need to laugh that badly?

But then, what should we do? We do need to laugh, feel joy, get inspired, take care of ourselves and each other. We do need, like good paintings, lightness to contrast with the dark. Mightn’t it be a worthwhile endeavor for me to add to the ever-diminishing pile of laughter, light, and joy? What else can I really do, other than put a frame around my profile photo on Facebook, sign petitions, send money to help the refugees?

Are you, my reader, disappointed that I did not offer you something today to lift you up? Then I’m sorry. Maybe I should have. I do try to add to the goodness in the world, not take away from it. But I thought it worthwhile today to offer up my dilemma. I hope it’s worth something to you, as well.

I will go back next week to lighter fare, I promise. Spring is coming for us. We are lucky as hell.

“Perseverance is everything. We all stumbled when we took our first steps yet we were running sooner than we realized, and then we couldn’t stay still. Why stay still now?” – Rob Liano

“It’s morning, and again I am that lucky person who is in it.” – Mary Oliver

“We are all leaves of one tree. We are all waves of one sea.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

Posted on March 7, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Found a Dollar!

I found a dollar this morning in the parking lot at Grindstone, where I take Miles on rambling woodland walks. A dollar! Made me smile. I put it right into my pocket. Who would really miss a dollar? Who would drive back there to search for it? It’s a nice little gift and has no guilt or anxiety attached to it.

By contrast, I once found a hundred dollar bill on the sidewalk. That bit of excitement opened up a whole world of Right and Wrong, anxiety, decision-making, conjecture, dilemma and feelings for my fellow humans.

It was on a busy street very near my house. A small pile of books had been in that spot for a few days, and the previous night we had had a thunderstorm. Now the top book’s cover was curled back and right there sat a hundred dollar bill. Well. What to do? The books were clearly abandoned there. No one was coming back for them. That seemed clear. I hesitated, looking around, went to the door of the house, but did not want to knock, early on a Sunday morning. I went back, thinking I could sure use that hundred dollars. I took it and walked on. Then I wondered if I should give it to the Food Bank instead of keeping it.

But then it occurred to me that the hundred dollar bill and the books could be unrelated. It could just have landed there, when someone pulled their hand out of their pocket. They might retrace their steps to find it. So I put it back and walked on. From across the street I watched another woman pause there, looking down, and finally walk away.

In the end, the owner of that house was able to track down the owner of the books and return them along with the hundred dollar bill. That is a whole other story of oddness.

But THEN a friend who’d read about my find on Facebook drove up to my house with a card and a little book about friendship with a hundred dollar bill tucked inside! Oh my! That was truly amazing, loving, and beautiful. She said it was her form of tithing to find a cause or person that could use a little money.

So today I found a dollar bill. No dilemma included. Ahh. Just a fun little thing to write in my book of walks and enjoy. When I got home and felt it in my pocket, I had another happy little feeling. I got a tiny present this morning. No worries attached. What will I do with it? A dollar won’t buy much these days, but who cares? I think I’ll pass it on when I go downtown today.

What would you do if you found a hundred dollar bill?

“Live your life, sing your song. Not full of expectations. Not for the ovations. But for the joy of it.” ― Rasheed Ogunlaru

“It’s good to be a SEEKER, but sooner or later you have to be a FINDER. And then it is well to give what you have found, a gift into the world for whoever will accept it.” ― Richard D. Bach, Jonathan Livingston Seagull

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on March 7, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Walking As Reset

We sure have a lot to worry and fret about these days–our own health and whatever problems we might be having, challenges our friends and family members are facing (so numerous these days), and lately, the very serious, heavy and daunting news of the world. Although I am not at all a news hound, I can get overwhelmed by the little I read and hear in the news. This past week, whenever I’ve felt grumpy about the weather, my petty grievances, or my various silly irritations, I’ve been saying to myself, “You’re not in Ukraine.” It does help to put things in perspective, though it doesn’t solve anything. I know that right now, I am exceptionally lucky. Even though I have worries and fears, they are not for myself. I am lucky.

For me, walking outdoors is usually the antidote to any negative thoughts, worries, or fears I’m harboring. This is what helps me most to shake off a bad mood, even in the cold, and especially with a friend and/or a dog–but even on my own. I often walk alone or just with my sweet dog Miles. But I do, too, love to walk with friends. I remember a particular recent time when I had been indoors most of the day, getting more and more frustrated with my computer and technology in general, and I suddenly texted my neighbor for a walk. And she said yes! I rushed out into the street and waited for her. As I breathed in that cold, clear air I grew calmer and calmer. As if I was meditating. Just breathing. In with the good, out with the bad. Ahh.

And then off we went. Fast. We walk at a similar fast, energetic pace. Not jogging or even speed walking, but fast enough to feel it. Not too fast that we can’t talk, vent, and sometimes rant. That day I ranted and pretty soon we were both laughing. And then the sun was setting behind all the bare neighborhood trees and it was just beautiful.

When I got home I felt totally reset. My brain, my soul, my body, my day had all been reset. The button had been pressed. Such a blessed relief. Walking is the best. It doesn’t even have to be in nature or in any particular kind of spot. My son loves to walk all over New York City and when I go there, we walk and walk and walk. I suspect he gets the same beautiful benefits there. In with the good, out with the bad. Walking as meditation.

“Exploring the world is one of the best ways of exploring the mind, and walking travels both terrains.” ― Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking

“But the beauty is in the walking — we are betrayed by destinations.” ― Gwyn Thomas

“My grandmother started walking five miles a day when she was sixty. She’s ninety-seven now, and we don’t know where the heck she is.”― Ellen DeGeneres

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on February 20, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

A Lesson in Perseverance

A few years ago I was headed to an art show in Des Moines, Iowa–The “Other” Art Show. It was the show held indoors at the Fairgrounds the same weekend as the big, fancy, downtown outdoor show, the one that was extremely hard to get into. I had a 4-5 hour drive and then set-up to do that day. As I was putting the last thing into my van, the heavy and awkward dolly, I pulled something in my hip. Damn! I was pretty annoyed as I got an ice pack from my freezer and headed off. I’d be able to refreeze it throughout the weekend at my friend’s house, but boy, I was grumpy about this turn of events. What bad luck.

I got to Des Moines just fine, with a stop at the Jaarsma Bakery in Pella, to pick up an Almond Butter Cake for my friend and her husband. I probably ate something yummy in the charming town square there, too.

At the show venue, as I was unloading all my stuff I noticed an elderly man hobbling painfully around his pickup truck. I wondered what he was doing there in the lot where we were all loading in for the show. He was clearly struggling. I went over and asked, “Is there some way I can help you?” and he replied, “Well, I have a broken hip.” He told me he had finished unloading all his stuff and I asked, astonished, “Do you mean to say that you’re in the show?” Yes. “And you’re doing the show with a broken hip?” Yes. “Do you have help?” No. I was flabbergasted. And embarrassed that I had been so grumpy about my tiny problem.

I asked again if I could help. He was trying to get into his truck to leave, since he was all finished. By then he was halfway into the driver’s seat, but he said, “If you could just lift my leg into the truck, that would help a lot.” I’m sure my eyes grew big. Well, okay. With much trepidation, I carefully lifted his left leg and got it in and he was able to drive off.

One of Ken Smith’s beautiful watercolors

The next day I went to look for him. His booth was very plain. No walls. No booth sign, that I recall. Just a folding chair and cardboard boxes full of his simply beautiful watercolor paintings. The boxes were sitting on upturned bins, covered with cloth. Paintings were all unframed and not even matted or encased in plastic sleeves. Just piles of them, with the unbelievably low prices in pencil on the back. I bought three. He just loved to paint and had amassed a lot of work. What else was he going to do with it but bring it to the show and sell it cheap? While sitting on a broken hip.

I found out later that his name was Ken Smith and the friend I was staying with knew him fairly well. They had taken a watercolor class together. When my sister saw a photo of one of his paintings she asked if he had a website. Haha. No website for this guy. Just an old gentleman who loved to paint.

He has since passed away, so I only saw him that one time. But he really taught me lessons about carrying on in the face of physical pain, sticking to your commitments, and doing what you love, at any age and no matter what.

“If it lights you up, just do it & throw away the logics.” ― Hiral Nagda

“Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.” ― Martin Luther

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on February 20, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Grand Canyon Adventures

My sister and me at the start of our 2018 hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. We look perky, don’t we?

A couple of good friends texted the other morning, asking if I’d like to hike down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. Of course without skipping a beat I said YES! I have done it twice before and it was amazing. I cannot imagine turning down any chance to do it. It is gorgeous from the rim, changes remarkably all the way down, and Phantom Ranch is simply magical. No cell phones, no internet, no TV, no kids. Quiet and beautiful.

My sister and I hiked down in 2005 and again in 2018. The first time, I was visiting her in Tucson in January and we wanted to do something adventurous. Of course, the Grand Canyon! We called and found there was a cabin available at Phantom Ranch, two days hence. We gathered up what we thought we’d need and drove to the park the next day. We discovered there was snow and ice for the first two or three miles (it gets warmer as you go down) but were assured that we could buy crampons for $3.50 in the gift shop and would be fine. I was wearing running shoes. At the time I insisted that I did not like hiking boots. Goofy. So we bought crampons and headed down the next morning. It was tricky but amazing.

Those running shoes were not even in good shape! What was I thinking?

At Phantom Ranch, dinner (you can choose Steak, Steak Stew or Vegetable Stew) is served in the Canteen at long tables, so you get to meet other hikers. They were all talking about their months of planning and training, so that was the first question they asked us. “We just decided to come day before yesterday.” That was fun.

When we went in 2018, we started down late, thinking we had it all going on. We knew the ropes. Seasoned hikers and all. But it is hard. Especially if you’re short. There are many many “steps” down, made from big chunks of rock, much harder to navigate if you have short legs. Hamstrings, oh those poor hamstrings! Pretty soon, we were both saying it was a lot harder than we’d remembered, mistakenly thinking we’d just made the first trek a few years prior. Nope. Thirteen! Seasoned hikers, my eye. Old hikers. I have to say I did feel vindicated, when I returned home, to realize that that much time had passed. But we barely got there in time for dinner and we were beat.

2018. We set out pre-dawn when we hiked out, a gorgeous crescent moon hanging over the canyon wall.

Even though we did plan that time, for months in advance, it was much harder to get a cabin and we had to spend that first night in a dorm. Not recommended! Five sets of bunkbeds, a single hook for all your belongings, no bench to sit on to take off your boots, a toilet and sink, ten people gassy and snoring all night long, and at 5:30 a.m. someone bangs open the door and shouts, “Early breakfast!” So even if you’re not having early breakfast, you’re awake for it.

But the cabins are sweet. Tiny and simple but lovely, built of stone, nice and quiet. Two sets of bunkbeds and a little bitty bathroom. Showers in the bath house down the path.

And so I am excited to go again, in March 2023. I admit to feeling guilty that I’m going without my sister this time, but one cannot turn down the Grand Canyon. It is, after all, grand! And I feel the need to go and do while I can. Perhaps she and I will go again, when we are even older and more seasoned.

“Crying – acceptable at funerals and the Grand Canyon.” – Ron Swanson, Parks & Recreation

“I had come to the canyon with expectations. I wanted to see snowy egrets flying against the black schist at dusk; I saw blue-winged teal against the green waters at dawn. I had wanted to hear thunder rolling in the thousand-foot depths; I heard the guttural caw of four ravens…what any of us had come to see or do fell away. We found ourselves at each turn with what we had not imagined.” ― Barry López, Crossing Open Ground

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on February 20, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Time

Lately, I’m feeling the reality of being 70 years old. What I mean is, I am keenly aware that 70 years of my life are behind me. The time I have left is limited. Of course, that is true for everyone, at every moment. I have these words of Jack Kornfield up on my refrigerator: “The trouble is . . . you think you have time.” I’ve had it there for a long time and I don’t think of it as depressing, but just as a reminder that we need to not waste any of that limited time.

So, in me, of late, being 70 manifests as wanting to do so many things! There is just so much out there to learn and do and experience–and less time in which to do it. I find myself signing up for all sorts of art workshops, learning about meditation, planning trips for the future (one more hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and possibly cycling the coast of Taiwan with my son!), and always finding another and another cool thing that I want to do while I still can. I just do not want to miss out.

Here is one of the poems I wrote as a result of a challenge I gave myself back in 2010.

“While I still can” are the meaningful words.

One thing that I love to do is accept and/or impose upon myself challenges. There is something about them that lights a spark in me and I usually go all in on them. I set myself the challenge of writing a poem a day for 49 days in honor of my friend Pam, who died at 49. I ended up doing it for over a year–and I loved the discipline of doing that, along with my daily morning writing. (You can find all of those poems here.) Then there are 14-day meditation challenges from Ten Percent Happier, 21-day challenges from Deepak Chopra, and right now a 30-Day Sketchbook Challenge that I have accepted. This is another one of those online art offerings. There is just so much out there that I want to do and learn and love.

Pages from Day 2 of the 30-Day Sketchbook Challenge

I am only on Day 3 of this Sketchbook Challenge but I have already learned or discovered several pretty great new things and each morning I can’t wait to get going on the next one. How cool is that? Very.

So what’s next? I don’t know but I am ready to find out. Oh, well, I’ve signed up for two free online workshops and I might take a third one using watercolor and gold leaf. Now it seems that everyone who has an art or meditation workshop on offer has my number on Facebook and Instagram, but that’s okay with me. Bring it! I want to know.

Think about it. The world and the internet are full of so many amazing things ready to fill you up! You think you have time? Fill it up with all the things. You think you don’t have time? You do.

“Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.” ― Anthony G. Oettinger

“How did it get so late so soon?”― Dr. Seuss

“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.” ― Marthe Troly-Curtin

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on February 20, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

February

February can be a hard month. But many years back, I started something that made February into one of my favorite months. It was really a reset on my part. Tired of the cold and snow, I thought up a February event that would put some sparkle into the month. Sure, there was Valentine’s Day, fine for some. But my event was way better.

I started throwing a big party in February that I called MidWinter’s Eve. I aimed to have it fall on the Saturday night smack in the middle of winter, usually the first weekend in February. Oh, it was grand! I handmade the invitations and they were fabulous. I would have to say that it was kind of a big deal to receive one of those, if I do say so myself.

Since I love gowns and tuxedos and my two best friends did, too, I requested “formal/festive attire.” The three of us were all over it. Rex always wore a tux or a formal Scottish kilt, the whole nine yards. Pam and I searched for gowns, capes (Pam), shoes, jewelry, and accoutrements. Even the dogs wore fancy sparkly things around their necks. But many guests balked. Thus, the invitations’ requests for formal attire grew either more urgent or more accepting of my guests’ moribund reluctance to dress up, as follows.

“FORMAL ATTIRE REQUESTED, i.e., any & every fabulous finery, fine frippery, dashing haberdashery, adornment & accoutrement most warmly applauded, lauded, adored & rewarded.”

“FORMAL ATTIRE MOST PASSIONATELY DESIRED. However, if you are loath to dress formally, i.e., smashing gown, gloves, tiara, top hat & tails, bow tie, etc., so be it. I do what I can to illuminate an otherwise dreary winter. Sadly, the loss will be your own. Please do come anyway. (You know who you are.)”

“For God’s sake, would it kill you to pull out the old top hat & tails, do up your hair, slip on that long, luscious gown, toss a bit of sparkle around your neck, or otherwise fabulously dress up the night? You know you want to.”

I served fancy hors d’oeuvres, cheap caviar, and champagne punch with a decorative ice ring of berries and mint leaves in the bowl. I decorated the house with lots of sparkle and tiny lights. I made party “favors” which were small envelopes containing shiny confetti, an inspiring quote (no surprise there, eh?), and two self-stick labels the guests could wear. One of the labels would say things like “Trickster” or “Mad Hatter” or “Tart” or “Old Soul,” and the other, “Mentally correcting your grammar” or “Will talk your arm off ” or “Placing my thoughts elsewhere” or “Going to Hell in a handbasket.” Etc. Words (of course) constituted the promised mad frivolity.

That party gave me such a creative outlet, so much fun, and something to look forward to in the dead of winter, though I actually planned for it all year round. I always had an eye out for some glitzy, glimmery, shimmery something that would add to the greatness.

Now that Pam and Rex, my two partners in crime, are gone, the party’s lost some of its glittery appeal. Who, now, would enjoy every last bit of the planning, listen to my latest ideas for favors, go shopping for accoutrements? Who would rummage through my underwear drawer during the party and come downstairs with my bra or panties on their head? Who??

And though I haven’t had the party for years, I do manage to feel a little bit cheated of the possibility of having it–because of stupid old dumb old ugly old Covid. Shouldn’t it be my choice? But maybe next year . . . maybe next February I can bring back my fabulous party. You never know. But please! Formal attire requested!

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. And if you enjoy these letters, feel free to forward this one to anyone you think might like it. And if someone forwarded this one to you, you can sign up here to receive the letters right in your Inbox. Finally, you’ll find past letters and poems here.

Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the “merry thoughts.”

Posted on January 18, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Being Cheesy

I recently heard that there’s a saying in meditation that goes, “If you can’t be cheesy, you’ll never be free.” Wow. That really got me excited. I must be very free! I really can be cheesy, I feel. I read Tarot cards, especially to start a new year. Runes, too. I even have a rune tattoo. Bit of a regret on that, but oh well. But are these things cheesy or actually woo-woo? Hmm. That’s a hard one. I believe I’m pretty good at both, though my heart does draw the line at certain things in the woo-woo category.

But that is neither here nor there. Merriam-Webster defines cheesy as 1) “resembling or suggesting cheese especially in consistency or odor” (terribly literal, don’t you think?) and 2) “shabby, cheap.” It offers a whole slew of terrible synonyms for that second definition, e.g. dowdy, inelegant, tacky, tasteless, trashy, unfashionable, unstylish.

Clearly, this is not exactly what the meditation teachers are meaning (especially that bit about actual cheese). No. And regarding definition #2, in meditation you’re not supposed to be stylish to begin with! Hats, for example, are not worn, let alone truly fashionable top hats. In my opinion, meditators clearly mean being willing to do things that are, God forbid, not “cool” in the traditional sense, like hugging a perfectly beautiful tree or taking a yoga pose in the gate area of an airport. Wearing a Mad Hatter hat to greet one’s son at selfsame airport. Running up and down the little hills on a trail with arms spread out, playing “Airplane.” Singing “Good Night, Irene” or “Good Night, Lady” to one’s adult son every night before bed.

They mean being willing to risk looking or seeming silly, childlike, inelegant, woo-woo, naive, uncool, gullible or unrefined. And let’s just go on and say it–doing so for the greater good, i.e. for the sake of fun, a lighter heart, a new experience, vulnerability, intimacy, openness, perhaps even personal or spiritual growth–and thus becoming freer. That’s what I think, anyway.

So go ahead and hide an Easter basket for your adult son, husband, wife, lover! Go ahead and sing a little something at bedtime. Sing a little something to a perfect stranger! Find yourself a huggable tree and give it a loving embrace every time you pass by. Buy yourself a tube or two of Bathtub Soap Paint and have a ball in the tub. Or buy yourself an adorable plush snowman to have on your lap like a baby while you watch TV in the evening.

I would love to hear what you do that is cheesy.

“Do a loony-goony dance

‘Cross the kitchen floor,

Put something silly in the world

That ain’t been there before.”

― Shel Silverstein, A Light in the Attic

“‘Coolness’ is too transient to be of any real and meaningful, lasting significance, and it is often in great conflict with one being one’s most honest, most vulnerable self. ” ― Criss Jami, Healology

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on January 18, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

A Coat With a Hood

For how many years have I been walking in the woods with dogs, all seasons and practically every day? Nearly twelve. Since I’ve had Miles. Those walks were only occasional and mostly in the fall, before I found Miles of the Running Exploring Loving of All People and All Dogs Exuberant Heart. Miles, who stares at me all morning if we do not go on a nice long walk. Miles, who even though he adores the narrow winding paths in the woods and especially the one along the creek, immediately adjusts his expectations (better than I do) when it becomes clear we’re going on a leash walk only.

Anyway, cold, rain, snow, heat, we’ve been out in all of them. And for the most part, I’ve dressed well for it. I want my feet to stay dry, even if the weather’s hot, so I have hiking boots to wear every day. I wear a ball cap in warm weather to keep the sun off my face and horseflies off my head. My son gifted me with a really good raincoat, since I like to be out in the rain. And I have lots of winter things–down jacket, wool gaiter, ear bands, hats, mittens, hand warmers. But I have never had a warm coat with a hood.

The other day, when it was “9 degrees, feels like -2” (Why doesn’t it say “feels bone crushing” or “feels horrifying”?), I finally saw the folly of trying to stay warm in anything other than a coat with a hood. Why has it taken this long? There were two days in a row that pushed the issue. First, I ran into an acquaintance whose pit bull likes to run along carrying the absolute longest branch he can find. This one was probably 8’ long. It stretched the width of the wide trail we were on. We stood laughing and chatting about her dog. But it was her coat that I focused on. A great big coat with a faux fur trimmed hood. It was not fashionable but it looked absolutely decadent. She said it was almost too warm. I asked where she got it. Bass Pro.

The next day I ran into another dog-walking acquaintance who scolded me for not wearing a hat. I had on an admittedly rather thin ear warmer and a wool gaiter. He catalogued for me what he was wearing: a balaclava, a hat, and two jackets, both with hoods, both of the hoods pulled over his already covered head. We walked together a short while and then came upon two others, both wearing hooded jackets, and of course we talked about the brilliance of the hooded jacket.

That day I went out to Bass Pro, a place I never go, a place where all of the (unmasked) employees were very nice and helpful. And I bought, for $33, a big long, to my knees, hooded coat, outer layer of that tough cotton that ranchers wear. Polyester fill. Tan. Tall, stand-up collar. Hood that stays up without being cinched. Zipper and snaps. Big pockets. Nothing fancy. No down. No faux fur trim. No inner cuffs or anything like that. Just what’s needed, though, and with the added bonus that now we can play Ranch. I’ll be Anna Montana, Miles can be Old Thunder and we’ll be out checkin’ the fence line. We’ve both got a hitch in our giddyup these days, so I won’t ride him. Yeehah!! Thirty three dollars! Warm enough, with my layers underneath. And that hood! Nice and cozy and now that I’ve been schooled, I do wear a hat or ear warmer under it.

How does a person live to be 70 before finally getting a proper coat with a hood? You tell me. I’m shaking my head. But at least that head of mine is warm underneath that hood.

“There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes.” – Scandinavian wisdom

“Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was about to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.” – A.A. Milne, Winnie the Pooh

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on January 18, 2022August 19, 2022 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Welcome All

I love January because it’s the start of a new year and I always start the year off with resolutions, sometimes with just one but often more. Today I wrote about my intentions for 2022 (paint and write more), things I want to accomplish (lose 13.5 pounds, fix up the house), ways I’d like to change (get back to my regular exercise routine) or places I want to go (Greece, the Riviera Maya, the Tetons, NYC, California). This year, though I have many intentions, I have one resolution only, and that is to take this poem by Rumi to heart.

The Guest House by Jalal al-Din Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

I LOVE this poem. I have loved it for years. What I love about it is the idea of allowing. Allowing difficulty and loss through the door, because they’re going to come in, regardless. Might as well welcome them. Don’t we all need this idea right now? Along with the good and kind and loving who stop by regularly, we do have unwelcome visitors, too, so unwelcome that we’d much rather shove them away. But can they really be guides from beyond? If we let them in, aren’t we really just being passive? I think not. I think it takes strength to stay open to whatever comes. It’s not easy to relax into being changed for the better by the unwelcome. It’s not that easy to relax with difficulty or loss, at all. We use tough words like fight and battle and win or lose around illness, social issues, grief, just about anything. And when we want to make positive changes, we use hard words like work, strive, and resolve. What if we tried to use a new language of gratitude and acceptance?

I love, too, that Rumi includes as unexpected guests our own dark thoughts, shame, unkindnesses, of which I certainly have my share. What can we do with those, instead of furiously growing them bigger and harder and meaner inside us? How could we welcome them in, laughing, and thank them for opening our eyes to ourselves? And when we recognize those dark thoughts, could we let them teach us rather than shame us and make us smaller in our own eyes? We could.

So here are some questions I plan to ask myself when something bad or difficult happens, when I’m feeling injured by the news, a loss, a word, or when I have an unkind thought.

a) Am I willing to be changed for the better by this?

b) How can this help me grow?

c) In what good ways can I be changed by this?

I haven’t had a big party in a long time. I’d like to metaphorically open the door, spread my arms wide to every guest, and call out,”Welcome! Thank you for coming!”