MerryThoughts – Kay Foley

Posted on July 21, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Luck, Randomness & Cold Showers

I have many things on my mind these days. Last Monday the creek (ditch) next to our house rose in the dark and poured God knows how much water carrying lots of debris against our fence and then 16 inches of water into our basement. Ugh.

On that same morning a young firefighter drowned after saving two people in a flash flood just a few miles from here. He left behind a wife, most likely his parents, and two sons. I keep thinking about him. I keep thinking about the randomness of one courageous person losing his life while two live. And about the comparatively tiny thing of my basement being flooded. My boys all live. My house is intact. By dint of hard work and loans of this and that from friends, my basement is now quite dry and swept clean of debris. And while my water heater needs to be replaced, my furnace needed only a repair and my washer and dryer work! I had feared I’d have to replace all of them. Still, it all seems trivial.

What is it that grants one person good luck and another tragedy? Someone tried to shoot an evil man last night (never a right intention) and killed , instead, an unlucky bystander. The evil one will probably be made stronger by the threat, and so the wrong intention made for a bad outcome in many ways. What are we to do with this?

I watched an amazing gathering of meditation teachers, spiritual leaders really, and activists yesterday. Called “Save Our Democracy,” it was uplifting, inspiring, and beautiful. It was exactly what I was needing. Tara Brach offered the inquiry, “What is love asking of me now?” What a question! Sit with that one for a minute–or an hour.

Roshi Joan Halifax said, “Keep clearing the mind of psychosocial debris.” Yes. So very helpful. We so need to clear our minds these days.

There were so many pieces of wisdom to deepen my thinking, awaken, inspire, connect, and refresh my spirit. I took a few notes but could not keep up. This was something that truly did fill up my heart. You can watch it on YouTube, here.

So my week included a flood of muddy water much like the psychosocial debris that’s been filling our minds lately and I was able to clear it out. Bags and bags of dripping wet stuff I can live without will be parceled out to the roll carts of neighbors on my block on trash day, in the same way that that debris of which Roshi Joan spoke might be parceled out to imaginary roll carts and sent away. There’s a great meditation image for you.

There is randomness, there’s luck, good and bad, and there are ways to move forward. I need reminding, often, about those.

What about the cold showers? you may ask. Well, without a water heater (still) I’ve discovered just how beautiful a cold shower can be. Oh sure, the first few minutes are a little startling, but I’ve found I get used to it pretty quickly and end up lingering in the cold water, feeling more and more rejuvenated. And when I get out? I feel like I could do anything! Look it up! Cold showers are good for us. I’m here to tell you, I can practically feel the endorphins surging through me when I’m finished. Yeehah! Look out, Evil! I’m coming!!

“I don’t do this to change the country. I do it so the country won’t change me.” – A.J. Muste

“Let us awaken. Do not squander your life.” – Roshi Joan Halifax

“You are seen. You are heard. You are appreciated. And you are loved.” – Ceasar F. Barajas

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 July 14, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Letting the Heart Fill Back Up

Last week I wrote about my project to fill a sketchbook with lists, for a local show. Well, I have filled up my sketchbook but without a single list. Scrapped the whole idea after messing up a few pages with lists that I deemed “lame” and unworthy of hanging on a wall at the Columbia Art League.

I’ve completed the sketchbook way ahead of time, though, choosing to write about death, instead. I don’t see why I wouldn’t. Death is inevitable. Last week it came for a sweet, humble, warm-hearted artist here in our community, out of the blue and at the too young age of 64. He was a man who, because of his lovely nature, anyone who even barely knew him could call “friend.” Beloved by all, his death was unexpected and a blow.

So I’ve written about death–just my random thoughts, since I do ruminate on death quite a lot, anyway. At the same time I’ve made three happy paintings as an antidote to all the darkness. And I’m working on letting my heart fill back up, staying in the present, trying to focus on the moments when Miles is bouncy and lively, rather than when he’s struggling. I am working on accepting what is.

But the “what is” can be enormous and terrible, if I look beyond my own small life. “What is” includes suffering in many parts of the world and major disappointments here in the U.S. As to accepting all of that, I am baffled. I’m reminded of a line from the movie “Living Out Loud,” when Holly Hunter is watching the news on TV and says aloud, “What am I supposed to do with all of this information?”

What, indeed.

Today I took a walk from my house, down to the trail and back up again, while listening to a beautiful meditation. In my ear I heard, “How are you right now?” Well, right then I was looking at the beautiful early morning sunlight through the leaves, blue sky up above, and admittedly I felt lucky. Sometimes I find it hard to hold onto those moments, but again and again I will be asking myself, “How are you right now?” Right now I am fine.

“Emotions are like waves. Watch them disappear in the distance on the vast calm ocean.” ― Ram Dass, Be Here Now

“Instead of forcing yourself to feel positive, allow yourself to be present in the now.” ― Daniel Mangena, Stepping Beyond Intention

“Think about every good thing in your life right now. Free yourself of worrying. Let go of the anxiety, breathe. Stay positive, all is well.” ― Germany Kent

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on July 14, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

List Making

Here’s the sketchbook in shadow, including one of Miles’ head

Challenge from our local arts group: purchase for $15 a small sketchbook, fill it up and return it for a Sketchbook Show in September. I considered, decided no, and then, partly because of my vow to enter every show this year, relented. I had also come up with an idea.

The sketchbooks are made of plain paper, not great for either painting or collage. Thus, my initial hesitation. I decided to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time: make a book of lists. So I’m off. La!

So far I’ve made a list of lists. I’ve taken paint to every other page, scraped on with credit cards. This is a thing I love to do. Then I shall handwrite the lists over or facing the painted pages. I might put in odd little drawings or . . . ? That’s the rough outline and anyway, once again, this little world is my oyster, so I can do anything I want.

I feel that with lists, one can go anywhere. Things Miles Likes to Eat. Favorite Books. Attributes of the East-Facing Window. Odd Words and Their Definitions. Dogs I’ve Loved. People I’ve Lost. My Thoughts on Death. Things I Do Every Morning. Things I Do on Sundays. Complaints. Worries About the World & My Little Piece of It. My Best Attributes. Things I Feel Guilty About. Etc.

Since these books will not be for sale (I don’t think) mine will make a nice compact record of this time in my life. I’m pretty excited about the project.

The books will be hung on the wall, open, so that patrons can look through them. The idea is to show your process as an artist. I don’t sketch, generally, so mine will show my process as a thinker. I do, as you may have guessed, have many thoughts.

The next show, actually coming up before the Sketchbook Show, will be “Lush,” meant to “celebrate the richness and vitality of the natural world.” As I typed those last few words, I heard a noise outside and turned to see a young spotted fawn cavorting across the yard. A doe and her two fawns are often out back, as well as a pair of barred owls. Yes, it’s pretty lush out there right about now. And this morning is cool enough to have the house open, leaf shadow dancing across my desk. Ahh. Richness and vitality, indeed.

“The list could surely go on, and there is nothing more wonderful than a list, instrument of wondrous hypotyposis.” ― Umberto Eco, The Name of the Rose

“We have a limit, a very discouraging, humiliating limit: death. That’s why we like all the things that we assume have no limits and, therefore, no end. It’s a way of escaping thoughts about death. We make lists because we don’t want to die.” ― Umberto Eco

“Forget your to-do list and create a to-be list.”― Frank Sonnenberg, Listen to Your Conscience

“I love lists. Always have. When I was 14, I wrote down every dirty word I knew on file cards and placed them in alphabetical order. I have a thing about collections, and a list is a collection with purchase.” ― Adam Savage

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on July 14, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Livestream Consciousness

“Stream of consciousness: a person’s thoughts and conscious reactions to events, perceived as a continuous flow.” That’s the kind of writing I try to do in those Morning Pages I’m always blathering on about–writing down whatever floats through my mind, without judgment or structure, without an attempt at organizing my thoughts. That’s the goal, anyway, though not always met.

But what I do notice in my brain is truly a stream of images floating through whenever I’m somewhat at rest or not even, e.g. during piano lessons (I really am listening!), while writing or driving, with or without others, or even reading.

Is this the norm, I wonder?

It’s an ongoing background slide show of familiar places and sights from my past, most often back to childhood. The A&P where we bought groceries appears often, as well as Forest Park and all the places we girls wandered on our own there, the Art Museum, one or the other of the houses where we grew up, the tiny bedroom my three sisters and I shared on Flora Street, the front porch of our house on Washington. But the many places I’ve been in New York with my boys stop by and land, too, plus various spots in the Bay Area from my many visits to siblings there. Taiwan, too, but Italy, not so much. Why?

They are not triggered by anything like Proust’s madeleine or music or the fragrance of a cedar tree or a marigold, as people suggest, but are just always there in the background of my mind, with nothing in particular happening in them.

Some people have synesthesia–a phenomenon of “tasting” colors or “feeling” sounds, a sort of cross-over of senses. In Oliver Sacks‘ book, The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat, you’ll find tales of people with all sorts of neurological oddities, some of them short-lived, e.g., a man whose sense of smell suddenly became so heightened that he could do nothing else but smell things, rather like a dog. It went away after a few weeks.

That book and my own inner image stream make me think, isn’t the brain fascinating? Just think of the potential! And isn’t being human just so interesting, complex and mysterious? Oh, it’s hard, too, at times, but wow, very very interesting. Just think of all the times someone you know very well takes you completely by surprise with a word or something they do. Or you, yourself, come up with a little stunner that surprises even you. We really are mysterious creatures and worthy of study. What about you? Any idiosyncrasies you’d like to share?

“Every act of perception, is to some degree an act of creation, and every act of memory is to some degree an act of imagination.” ― Oliver Sacks, Musicophilia

“Above all, I have been a sentient being, a thinking animal, on this beautiful planet, and that in itself has been an enormous privilege and adventure.” ― Oliver Sacks, Gratitude

“…when the brain is released from the constraints of reality, it can generate any sound, image, or smell in its repertoire, sometimes in complex and “impossible” combinations.” ― Oliver Sacks

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on June 23, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Is It Finished?

Sometimes it is quite hard to tell if a painting is finished, even if or probably especially if it’s your own painting. And it’s difficult even if or possibly especially if you love the painting already.

The painting above is a case in point. I do really love it. I love the movement and the suggestion of a giant gathering of birds filling the sky. But I have the nagging feeling that it needs something. Some of the more woowoo teachers will say the painting will tell you what it needs, if you pay attention. What am I missing? you might ask the painting. Or What are you, oh painting, missing? What do you need? What do you want me to do? I like to think of myself as woowoo-ish but I have my limits and I haven’t had much luck chatting with my paintings.

Instead, I stare and I think. Thinking, some say, stifles the making of art.

This is what that one, above, looked like until I stopped staring at it and painted.

What do I need at any given moment? The answer to that question can also be mysterious. Today I really needed to have some fun at pickleball in that specifically pickleball way, e.g. laughing, crying out Aiyiyi!! when I’ve hit the ball way out, going full-on after the ball, and making some great or great-ish shots. That was clear to me. I did go and I did play but I did not get what I needed, and now I’ve come home to stare at that painting off and on all day. How can I be expected to give it what it needs when meeting my own needs is so elusive?

Life can be challenging.

This one is finished, but I can’t really say why.

I do not actually stare at paintings for long periods of time. I do talk to my dogs all day long. I hug certain trees and whisper I love you to one in particular. I call out hello and wave to the moon. I quietly say Eye on the ball at pickleball to myself ten hundred times a day. So maybe having a heart-to-heart with a painting isn’t really that far behind. I will report back if there are any developments.

What about you? Where do you stand on woowoo? Do you commune with any so-called inanimate objects? Do they talk back to you?

“Painting is complete as a distraction. I know of nothing which, without exhausting the body, more entirely absorbs the mind.” ― Winston S. Churchill, Painting As a Pastime

“I dream my painting and I paint my dream.” ― Vincent Willem van Gogh

“Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.” ― Pablo Picasso

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on June 16, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Tennis Lessons

Inspiration comes from everywhere. My son and I have been watching a lot of tennis lately. I’d mostly always rather play a thing than watch others do it, but I’ve learned that one can take life and even painting lessons from watching others play tennis.

Iga Swiatek, ranked by the Women’s Tennis Association as the world No. 1 women’s singles player is absolutely fierce on the court and at 23, has an incredible record. She says, again and again, that the key for her is staying in the moment. Her focus is on this point–not the endpoint, not the score (she claims sometimes she doesn’t even know the score). She’s assessing what this point needs from her right now. Here and now. (When she’s about to serve, she’s silently saying something. What is it? I want to know.) And when she wins the match, she’ll run around the court, arms wide as if to embrace the whole world, a big smile on her face–the picture of pure joy.

She played Naomi Osaka recently in the French Open. Osaka, former world No. 1, had taken time off to have a child and has returned with a ranking of 134. Their game was amazing. Osaka essentially had nothing to lose going in, and it showed in her play. She seemed loose, free, and unencumbered, and she gave Iga a run for her money. Iga won but still, there’s another nugget of wisdom. Play with joy. Play loose. Play free. Paint with joy. Paint loose. Paint free.

Carlos Alcaraz, asked about his ready smile, said his team tells him he plays his best tennis when he smiles.

So I’ve been feeling pretty low lately about my aging dogs. I’ve had a hard time shaking my malaise, looking ahead with dread to what’s to come and ultimately, to losing them. Failing miserably at staying in the here and now. Only pickleball and Mahjong have taken my mind off of that worry and sadness.

Last week I pulled out a big (36″ x 48″) canvas that I’d bought for $5 at the Salvation Army and gessoed a while back. Hung it on my painting wall, got out happy colors and big brushes, put on the Beatles, and slung some paint around. Painting on a big surface, on the wall, is just so freeing. It’s partly the physicality of it but also the size. And bouncy music always helps. I had no agenda other than wanting to feel better. It was a used canvas–just $5–wouldn’t matter if I made a mess of it. Nothing to lose. So? I was loose and I had fun and I felt better.

I brought my son in to see it and told him basically what I just wrote above, and he said, “That’s how you should always do.” True. Very true. That is just what I should always do. I love my big painting! I love what it stands for and I do love how it turned out. Best of all, it took me out of my funk and into the present moment, at least for a little while. There it is, up at the top of this letter.

Do what you love. Stay in the moment. Set yourself free.

“The sparkle in your eyes which shows up when you do what you love, becomes a starting point to a grand carnival of your new life.” ― Hiral Nagda

“Do what you love. Do what you are. Do what you do.” ― Matshona Dhliwayo

“Previous chapter is closed. Doesn’t matter what happened so far this season, good or bad. My mind needs to be clear and I need to focus on what’s coming next.” – Iga Swiatek

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on June 9, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Querencia

In my last letter I included this quote, from G. Severino: “I am my own querencia. I am my own home. I am my own sounding board. I am my own soulmate. And what a beautiful feeling to carry with me . . . ”

I only looked up the meaning of the word “querencia” after sending the letter out, simply because I loved all the rest of the quote. But now that I’ve found the definition, I love the word itself, very much.

Wikipedia calls the word “a Spanish metaphysical concept. 1. Emotional inclination toward someone or something. 2. Tendency in people and animals to return to the place where they grew up. . . It has also been defined as ‘homing instinct, a favorite place.'”

It is a layered word packed with meaning. Other interpretations include: to want, like, love; fondness; favorite haunt of an animal (the place where a bull goes in a bullfight, for safety); the place where one feels most secure, where you find your strength of character and feel at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.

I love all of this, as well as its use in Severino’s quote from On the Verge, a journal-style novella. He is his own soulmate, his own favorite place, his own strength, carried with him wherever he goes. True inner strength!

I found his words when I searched last week for a quote about journaling, more specifically that beautiful Morning Pages ritual that I keep, that has sustained me for the past 26 years and that continues to surprise and support me. That is my querencia, my strength, my favorite place/time/haunt, the place where I feel my most authentic self. That is where I gather myself together, with words, pen to paper, my two dogs close by. My haven, my sanctuary. My querencia.

Do I carry it with me? Not sure. Probably not. But I’d like to. Things certainly do jostle one throughout a day–the news, petty disagreements and slights that should be easily shaken off, misspoken words that one regrets, discourteous or unkind encounters, a sick dog or friend, even tech irritations and drama on the pickleball court. All these things lure us away from our center. Life, in other words. Life happens. But in the morning at least I have my querencia before I venture forth.

What is it that makes you feel your strongest and most authentic self? Go and do it right now. Do it as much as you can.

“The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned.” – Maya Angelou

“I’m safe inside this container called me.” ― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

“Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition.” ― James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on June 2, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Cicada Summer

They brought him out to the waiting area, saying, “He misses you!” “I know!” I replied.

I have loved the song of cicadas for a long time. I mean, really loved. But the bloom is off that rose. Let the katydids come and the crickets hum. But this year I’ll be glad when the cicadas have died off.

It’s not been a great week. I just spent my Sunday morning, not in one of my personal churches–woods, lakeside, studio–but at the vet hospital with Miles. As an older dog he has kidney and pancreas issues and as a dog who is young at heart, he loves to hunt cicadas. In his younger years, it did not bother his healthy body to snack on them. But this year he’s like an addict, eyes glittering, panting, keening to get out the door and follow their call.

And so this year he got sick. By yesterday I was fearing the worst.

This morning I was doing my journaling in bed, dreading the experience and the cost of taking Miles to the vet hospital, a thing I’d decided must be done. My last experience had been terrible. I knew it would be expensive. So I started strategizing about how I could pay for it. Another Open Studio? It would have to be a VERY successful one. A big (I hoped) sale of paintings? I just felt like I had to do it.

And then, suddenly, as often happens when I write about a thing, I leapt from worry and dread to gratitude. I realized how lucky I am to have this resource, less than 10 minutes from my home. I have everything I need very close by. I would come up with the money. I felt hopeful and somehow even confident that if I took him there, Miles would be fine.

So, two things.

a) I have often, as I read or think about gratitude, thought, well, it’s easy enough for me to list many things for which I’m grateful. But how easy would it be for people who are very sick, or who have loved ones who are very sick or struggling? Sure, I can make a list every day. But what about all those people in the midst of war, refugees, the sick and grieving? Gratitude must be very hard to come by.

b) Writing. Journaling. It is SO good for you. Try it! It can change your whole day.

P.S. Right now Miles is doing better. We’ll see how the week unfolds. Cicadas have fallen in my Love Scale, even though it’s not their fault animals love to eat them. And I’m sure they would rather not be eaten. But I’ll be happy when they’re gone.

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” ― Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

“I am my own querencia. I am my own home. I am my own sounding board. I am my own soulmate. And what a beautiful feeling to carry with me…” ― G. Severino, On the Verge

“You think those dogs will not be in heaven! I tell you they will be there long before any of us.” ― Robert Louis Stevenson

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on June 2, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Bearers of Joy

I bet if you’re on Instagram you, like I, get those ads for various workout programs. I’ve been interested in the seated workouts that advertise unbelievable results “for senior women” in 28 days. Well, interested, but not really believing. I searched on YouTube for a free version and discovered a gal whose workout videos are called Fabulous50s. Why not give it a try, I thought? After all, 72 is the new 52, isn’t it? Say yes, quickly, or some old gal falls and breaks a hip!

This beautiful soul, Schellea (Shelly) has 1.77 million subscribers and I, who had never previously subscribed to any YouTube channel, am one of them. She has such incandescent energy! She says, “I am 57 years old, live in Australia and it is my greatest joy to help women over 50 feel great about who they are, and help them to feel excited about where they are going!” Amen! Watching the videos, one does feel her joy and her intention. She is lovely.

Shelly is a meditation and yoga guru, spiritual guide, life coach, and then an exercise instructor, in my view. She says things throughout like, “You are beautiful!” “Smile!” “Say out loud three things that you like about yourself.” “Think of three things you are grateful for.” I find myself smiling and feeling happy during and definitely after these short workouts. The stretching videos are accompanied by beautiful classical music or vocal music that is both uplifting and calming. The last screen is of the ocean, with the words YOU ARE LOVED super-imposed. Oh yes, I do feel loved! Thank you!

How many ways are there to bring joy to others? So many. I never would have imagined that exercise videos would be one of those ways! I suppose it all comes down to how you do what you do, what kind of energy you bring to the role, work, or play, and how fully you bring your positive intentions out onto the page, the screen, the pickleball court . . . Each of us has ways we impact others. We can have a neutral impact, a negative one, or a gorgeously positive one.

I love discovering new bearers of joy. I want to be one, as well. I hope that these letters bring some small measure of joy to you. Or a great big heap of it.

“Be the light or the one who carries it.” ― Germany Kent

“I love the smell, the lovely aroma of indulgent lushness, of people with inner peace.” ― Bhuwan Thapaliya

“Be the sun in someone’s dark sky.” ― Matshona Dhliwayo

Thanks for listening,
Kay

Posted on May 19, 2024 by Kay Foley — Leave a comment

Mothers and Sons

Today, as I’m writing, is Mother’s Day. I’m thinking of motherhood and childhood, of course–being a mother and having a mother. For this, I direct you to a favorite Billy Collins poem called “The Lanyard.” I’ve been handing out copies of it all over the place. Yesterday a woman eagerly asked, “Are you Billy?” Ah, no. Anyway, I’m going to copy it below for you to read, if you like, but also, if you click here, you can listen to Billy Collins himself reading it. I send this to my sons every Mother’s Day. If you don’t read it or listen to it, I’m sorry for you. If you do, I guarantee it will make you smile.

I expected to have daughters. I have three baby girl outfits still packed away in a trunk. Yet I have three sons. I have come to believe that once you have two boy babies and you get pregnant again, you’ll have another boy. It’s a given. And won’t you be lucky! At least, I have been. Although I never had confidence in myself as a mother, I must have done at least some little thing right, because I have three loving sons. Loving, irreverent, whip smart, creative, adventurous, smart aleck, inventive, generous, handsome sons. They have made me feel lucky, loved, and happy.

So then, related but not closely, I said last week that I had offered poems to anyone not dangerous looking. The very day that I sent that letter out, I saw a youngish guy approaching on the path around the lake. Tattoos all over, even on his face, a rough look, combat boots and shorts, a big backpack with things hanging off of it. We said hello and I thought, well, why not? “Hey,” I called out as he passed, “would you like a poem?” He turned and said, “I would love a poem. Thank you, ma’am.” He began reading it immediately, so I gave him another one (Alice Walker’s “Expect Nothing”) and we parted ways.

I walked away a little bit dumbstruck, not sure what I had expected. But again, the power of poetry! Of words. He still looked rough around the edges, and he didn’t really ever smile or look me in the eyes, but he was polite and thankful. I wondered about his situation, what his mother was like, how he grew up, and whether or not he was in trouble. What’s his story? Is he homeless? I hope he has a mother that he’ll contact today. I hope he is okay, happy enough, safe.

I’m immensely grateful that my sons are healthy, happy, safe and sound, and living good lives. And that we all love each other. Isn’t that what we all want for each other?

The Lanyard
By Billy Collins
The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy lightand taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truththat you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.“The Lanyard” from The Trouble With Poetry: and Other Poems by Billy Collins, copyright © 2005 by Billy Collins. Used by permission of Random House, an imprint and division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

If you’re looking for my cards or art, you’ll find all of that on my website. 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.”