Category: MerryThoughts

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Christmas Past Present & Future?

Although winter, the cold, and all the clothes one has to wear try my patience, I do love Christmas. It was, of course, more fun both when I was a child and when my boys were little. I have lots of fond Christmas memories. But even now I love the whole idea of it, the lights, the special meals, the carols, the gift buying, the secrets, the festive atmosphere, and of course, the cookies.

When we were kids, on Christmas Eve our aunt and grandmother would come over and we would be sent upstairs while Santa arrived. My dad would do the “HoHoHo-ing” at some point and soon after, we were called downstairs again. Wow! Presents were piled under the tree. I’m not sure why, but at least as far as I knew, none of us ever wondered how my parents knew just when Santa would arrive or why Santa would have been okay with them being there when he brought the gifts. We just enjoyed it as it was. And one year, my sister Pat claimed she had seen a sleigh and reindeer in the sky!

When Cole was still pretty little, he asked for and received a dog for his birthday. I still have the note he left for Santa that year, and I get it out every Christmas so I can hold it and smile over it. “If you have a extra bone we have a new dog.” So modest and so sweet. Peter, on the other hand, suspecting that I was Santa, left a large onion on a plate on the mantel, rather than cookies. Santa left him a note that said, “Dear Peter, Thanks for the onion, but onions give me gas and Mrs. Claus hates that.” I ended up making that into a Christmas card. He also rigged up some bells on his stocking one year, with the idea of catching Santa in the act.

We have always had dogs, but Miles is the one who has loved Christmas the most. He has a good nose, so he found the stockings filled with treats quite intriguing. But more fun, since he loves tearing paper, he likes to help open our gifts. It brings a bit of zaniness to Christmas and a rather jolly mess to the living room floor.

Miles in the wrappings and Rufus in his Santa hat

Now our Christmases are usually cozy–just me, Oliver, Miles and Rufus–but we have a good time. (Miles gets to open the gifts.) Once in awhile, Peter or Cole will come in from NYC, and once in a great while, both! But not often. And one day, I’d like to be in NYC at Christmas time. But it’s a difficult time to travel and now even moreso. I think we all wonder, will it ever be as we all remember? I like to think it might be even better.

I have an adorable six-year-old piano student from Greece. His mother told me he was ready for Christmas, as he had written his letter to Santa. I asked him in an animated voice, “Are you going to go see Santa?” and he said solemnly, “No. Coronavirus.” Sigh. I hope Santa brings him everything he asked for. And I hope you get everything you’re wanting this year, whatever that may be.

“One can never have enough socks,” said Dumbledore. “Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn’t get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.” ― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

“One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.” ― Andy Rooney

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.”

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Another Harebrained Scheme

Last year I had a bit of a meltdown before Christmas, as I discovered my favorite tree lot was completely empty and shut down. I say “favorite,” but in truth even though it’s lovely, it is the only tree lot in town. You can find trees at a couple of hardware and grocery stores but the selection is poor.

Although I usually like the look of artificial trees in people’s homes, the ones I see for sale seem to me a bit cheesy. Several I’ve seen boast a combination of styles, i.e. one tree will have both Scotch pine type needles and balsam. Why? Cheesy. I’ve also looked around online for some kind of alternative tree that I could buy or make. I found some pretty cool ones but either too expensive or I couldn’t imagine making them.

I love sycamore trees, particularly the beautiful patterns left on the branches and trunk as the thin bark peels away. I often carry pretty branches home from Grindstone Nature Area. So I thought, why not make my own tree from sycamore branches? (Thus, my latest harebrained scheme.) I began collecting more seriously. Right near that stand of four sycamores along the creek trail, a big branch had fallen. Yes! My son, Oliver, and I went out there, cut it into large pieces and hauled them home. Now that my holiday shows are behind me, I’ve been working on it in earnest.

It has been a bit of a struggle. Well, it was very hard. The curvy branches, which I love, do not lend themselves to being attached to each other by a human. The thing went through many iterations, none of which (including the end result) are at all like what I had in mind. I went to bed a couple of nights thinking it was terrible, ridiculous! Yet I went right back to it each morning. I believe that working on it on the damp concrete outside my basement door on a wet day has caused my mold allergy to kick up a notch or two. The sneezing!! I have a painful crick in my neck from sawing. I was on my hands and knees. My hips cry out.

The finished tree, with lights and ornaments!

Nevertheless, I have created something unique and possibly cool. I’ve purchased clear lights on white wire to string around the trunk. Perhaps I’ll find some boughs of greens to put on. I don’t quite know how I’ll hang ornaments on it, but maybe that’s okay. We’ll see if it stands the test of time, i.e. whether I like it tomorrow, a week from now, and/or next Christmas.

I tried. It won’t win any prizes but it certainly is unique! I worked very hard on a creative project that is completely out of my skill set, using inferior tools (a miter box saw) and lacking something even as handy as a sawhorse. The work on it was stimulating. The problem solving was good for my brain. And Oliver drilled holes and helped me figure things out, so that made it fun. There’s never any harm in trying a thing, right?

“There are five important things for living a successful and fulfilling life: never stop dreaming, never stop believing, never give up, never stop trying, and never stop learning.” ― Roy Bennett

“A person who tries has an advantage over the person who wishes.”

― Utibe Samuel Mbom

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 on my 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.”

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The Tiny Desk

A perfectly fine little desk!

I was participating in an outdoor art show at a friend’s house this weekend and her neighbors had put several items on the curb for giveaway. There was a box of dishes, quite nice, an old table top, also very nice, and some other miscellaneous items. There was also an old wooden child’s desk.

Yesterday I took all of the bowls that had no chips. They had a nice color and a very nice shape. I checked out the desk rather thoroughly. All the legs were perfectly sound. The veneer on top was not perfect. But the little drawer moved smoothly in and out; and that, to me, was a bit of a miracle. And what little person had made those sweet marks inside of it? I pointed it out to two others, as it seemed too good to pass up. However, they did not take it and I did not take it.

The little drawer a thing of beauty

This morning the sweet little desk was still there. I commented on it to the gal who was hosting the show. “Look!” I said. “The drawer works perfectly!” She was duly impressed. She encouraged me again and again to take it, saying her husband would be very unhappy if she brought it in. I have no space for it, no use for it at all. She tried to say I could use it as a display piece for shows. Hardly! Or in some way for my little piano students. No. No room. Again, however, I pointed out the drawer. Irresistible. At the same time, I said no, I have no use for it and no place for it.

She helped me carry it to my car, even though it was so small and light I did not need help. I told her it would just be further evidence to my son that I am, as he likes to say, crazy.

Now what?

At the moment it’s on the front porch.

I still have all of my childhood stuffed animals, some of my boys’ stuffed animals, plus additional ones that I acquired as an adult. I have lots of children’s books. Other little plastic or wooden toys and whistles dot my desks. So? What of it? I am just young at heart! Anyone can try and make anything they want of it.

I would like to paint the tiny desk in some whimsical way and find a place for it. I am very happy to have it!

I am fairly certain that I will never paint it. It will remain a charming tiny desk with a remarkably good working drawer that adds to the clutter of my studio space. And then one day I will most likely put it on the curb.

“It is good to collect things, but it is better to go on walks.”― Anatole France

“This is true of all collecting. It extinguishes the moral instinct. The object finally possesses the possessor.” ― John Fowles

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 on my 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.”

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Nickels & Dimes

I made a whole bunch of these adorable little gift tags.

I’m tired, I’m beat, but I’m determined to write this letter tonight, Sunday night, to be sent out in the morning. I do take this very seriously! I just wrapped up my Studio Sale, complete with a small plumbing catastrophe during setup, barely recovered from a bad cold (not Covid!), and I am tired.

We had an amazing turnout! We required masks. We had low expectations. It was just two of us artists, hoping to sell some things and we pulled it together rather last-minute. I had thought, initially, that I didn’t have much, but I got to work on small things I thought might appeal. I came up with accordion fold Christmas cards, tiny handmade paper gift cards, garlands from collected leaves, plus art and photos that I already had. Meg had lots of her charming and zany glass pieces–zany Portraits of Alarm, Christmas ornaments, hearts, little boxes, and beautiful single earrings.

The aftermath of the plumbing catastrophe

Saturday morning I had suddenly felt like I was over my cold, like my old self, energetic and determined. I was getting everything set up. Things were going well. Then I opened the downstairs closet and discovered all kinds of stuff in there was soaking wet. The upstairs bathroom (lead) drain pipes were leaking through the ceiling, through my stuffed animals (yes, mine), ball caps, too many jackets and secondhand wool and/or cashmere coats, plus couch covers and all manner of bits and bobs that I stuff into that closet in the vain hope that the rest of the house might look presentable. Soaking wet. Falling drywall tape and soggy bits of drywall paste all over the things and the floor. And I presumed it was all soaked with toilet water. Ack!

Things can turn on a dime, can’t they? Humming right along one moment, in crisis mode the next.

I didn’t quite manage to get these cards finished. 🙁

And then a great guy comes right over to take a look. Applies a Band-Aid (epoxy) to the pipes. Fingers crossed. Terrible night of “sleep,” with Miles waking me at 4:00 and again at 5:30 a.m. Headache, bone-tired. Then today an amazing show, terrific turnout, no one bothered by the mask requirement, everyone excited to be here, all kinds of people I’ve never seen at my shows before, new people, lovely people, so happy to be here, especially a lovely older (aren’t I older?) woman whose first name is Bliss! Sweet, lovely, engaging. I forgot to put on music. We failed to give out the door prizes. It had been so long since either of us had done a show that we both forgot to get cash for making change. We’ve offered no cookies, no hot chocolate, nothing at all but art. And yet we’ve knocked this show out of the park! Woohoo!!

Things can turn on a dime, can’t they? In crisis mode one moment, bad sleep, etc., and then–amazing show.

It seemed that people were just really ready for an event. And that we did offer. And it was well received. Interesting times we’re in.

Help, thanks, and wow, boom boom boom, just like that. Thank you, everyone!

“Be thankful for everything that happens in your life; it’s all an experience.”

― Roy T. Bennett

“Do not spoil what you have by desiring what you have not; remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”

― Epicurus

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.”

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Help Thanks Wow

Here we are already at Thanksgiving Week and this morning as I was writing I thought of Anne Lamott’s book Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers. Although I have not read this one of hers, and I would not call myself a person of faith, I love what is suggested by the title. Ask for help when you need it. Be grateful for what you have. Let yourself be amazed. Boom. That’s a pretty decent recipe for a good life, a happy life. The simplicity of those three words really works for me.

I had my very good friends over for Friendsgiving Brunch today. The whole of it was just lovely. Nine of us managed to squeeze around my grandmother’s old oak dining table, opened to its capacity. I used the good china, my tarnished silverware, cloth napkins, and champagne flutes for mimosas. There was lots of food, great freewheeling conversation, and my two dogs passing through. We ate, as we usually do, with gusto.

Photo courtesy of Bonnie Conley

As I had just been thinking about Help Thanks Wow, I found a little fancy pencil that I thought could do as a wand and I suggested that we go around the table, passing the wand and each saying what we need help with, what we’re thankful for, and what we find amazing. This group doesn’t particularly need a push when it comes to meaningful conversation, but the wand worked some magic, anyway. Each of us dug a little deeper than we might otherwise have done. Each of us took a thoughtful pause.

I love little rituals like this. It did not dampen our spirits to get a little serious. There were still some jokes and laughs and our usual conviviality. And as we took turns and listened, we learned new things about each other.

I am wowed by these four sycamore trees over and over again.

Each Thanksgiving morning I write down, in my Morning Pages, a list of everything I’m thankful for. I like reminding myself of what a huge list I can make. I like getting down to the tiny things. But I think it’s also very good to think about what we need help with, i.e., what we need. Most of us don’t ask for help particularly well and many of us have trouble identifying what it is we need. And I’m not talking about help fixing the fence or hemming a pair of pants. What is it that gives you trouble, spiritually, socially, philosophically? It can be helpful just to lay it out there. You can think of it as seeking help from the universe or from God or just help from those who love you. Sometimes just saying it can move us along.

What do you need help with? What are you thankful for? What amazes you?

“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.” ― Anne Lamott

“Needing help doesn’t have a look, but asking for it always looks beautiful.”

― Brittany Burgunder

“Being first to ask for help in a friendship takes courage and humility.”

― Afton Rorvik, Storm Sisters: Friends Though All Seasons

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.”

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Anniversary!

You may not realize it, but for me this letter represents a momentous occasion. This is my 52nd MerryThoughts letter! Thus, I have sent out a letter every single week since this week in 2020. Yes, it is my one year anniversary!! I just happened to wonder the other day how many of these I’d written. Very timely, since it turned out there had been 51! I must have had an inkling. And having looked, I can now celebrate one year of MerryThoughts letters.

My first letter, “Out for a Walk,” can be found here. You might recall that it was about walking with my dog Miles at Grindstone Nature Area. No surprise there. That letter represents a commitment I made on that date, November 18, 2020, to write and send out a letter once a week. My son Peter had suggested the idea, and I loved it! And now look! I’ve done it for a full year. The great thing is that it has been a joy for me to do. Oh, some are easier or more difficult to write, and some weeks I find myself wondering what I could possibly write about. Sometimes there’s a bit of anxiety when I barely manage to finish in time (which, for me, means Monday morning). Still, this writing, this reaching out and connecting with you who read them, has been pure joy. A romance.

I took this photo one year ago this week.

I have said that the letters give me a purpose. Not that I have no purpose otherwise, but it’s another fulfilling thing that I’m doing. I feel lucky that I can do this, lucky that people like you read them, luckier still when people write me back. I am committed to sending one every single week and that in itself feels fulfilling. We are more alive, more connected, and more in the world when we make a pact with ourselves or another person to do a thing, I feel. While I have not liked working for others, in jobs, I do flourish within parameters I set for myself. So on most Sundays I can be found at my computer, happily writing.

When my friend Pam died at 49 of pancreatic cancer, I wanted to do something creative to mark her untimely passing. She was a gifted poet, and I admired and enjoyed poetry, so I decided that I would try to write a poem a day for 49 days. As it turned out, I did it for well over a year. Those poems are all here, too. Some of them made their way onto cards or art. They vary wildly from serious to silly, but I absolutely loved writing them. And my writing flourished within my self-set rule that I write a poem every day. Somehow, the commitment to write gave me freedom.

And I took this photo today, one year later. Similar idea!

So even though I haven’t been great at commitment in some other areas of life (we won’t speak of it), I’m pretty good at dedicating myself to things like this. And I’m here to say that these bargains we make with ourselves can bring with them many gifts. Because of this particular contract, I’ve reconnected with an old friend; corresponded with acquaintances in deeper ways; received lovely praise from many others; developed discipline with my writing (a thing I already loved to do); and been graced with the fulfillment of doing something meaningful every single week for the past year.

What fulfills you? Where do you find meaning?

“Freedom is not the absence of commitments, but the ability to choose – and commit myself to – what is best for me.”― Paulo Coelho, The Zahir

“If you don’t write when you don’t have time for it, you won’t write when you do have time for it.” ― Katerina Stoykova Klemer

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 on my 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.”

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Direction

Blue ball cedar on the bluff

A curious thing happened the other day. Where I live, we have many beautiful wooded parks and wild areas. The Gans Creek Wild Area is 320 acres and has lots of different trails and trailheads to explore. I love going there. In the fall there are yellow maples galore, and a couple of groves of them that are just magical. I have two favorite loops that I have followed many times, starting at Shooting Star trailhead.

The other day I went out with a couple of friends, one of whom loves starting from the Wagon Wheel trailhead. I had never been able to find a loop from there, and usually after having walked through the Yellow Forest to the creek I’ve turned back. Well. She was going to lead the two of us on a nice 3+ mile loop from there.

It was a beautiful brisk but sunny fall day. We took provisions, with the plan of picnicking on a particular bluff. Everything past the creek looked new and lovely to me although at the bluff I did notice that a blue ball cedar was perched on the right, just as on the bluff I had visited a few days before. I wondered if there might be blue ball cedars at all of the bluffs at Gans Creek?

Our fearless leader and that blue ball cedar on the bluff

We had a lovely pause there and then went on. I was telling about routes I often take and about this other bluff. My friend said she didn’t know of that one. Then she pointed to a right fork in the trail and said, “The Boy Scout camp is that way.” “It is??” I asked, perplexed. How could it be? As we walked, I thought this area looked similar to the loop I usually took. And then suddenly, we went around a bend and I knew exactly where we were! We were on my loop from Shooting Star! How could that be? We started on the complete other side of Gans and suddenly we were in the middle of the loop I knew so well.

Shaking my head.

The next morning I was writing in bed, as I always do. Suddenly I realized that bluff we’d sat on was one and the same as the “other” bluff that I’d been talking about. I just suddenly knew it. And I saw how the Boy Scout camp would have been “that way” and how I was suddenly in familiar territory. I had the sensation of a perfectly smooth piece falling right into its precisely carved place in my brain. It felt amazing. Even exhilarating. I knew exactly where we had been and I felt, too, that the whole of Gans Creek Wild Area was now known to me. To paraphrase Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat Pray Love, we had become the mayors of Gans Creek’s ass. Wow.

I immediately took Miles in the car to look again at the bluff I hadn’t recognized the day before, to show my brain that it was indeed the very same bluff–a beautiful spot I have known for years and had just taken photos of a few days earlier.

We sat right here the day before.

Why didn’t I realize it? We had approached from the other direction, from a trail I have never taken, after walking through unfamiliar territory. I expected that everything I saw on this “new” loop would be new to me. I did not expect to land in a place I had known so well. And so I did not even see it.

This taught me something about expectations, attention, and perspective. When you expect a new, fresh experience, that’s what you’ll get, even to the point of not recognizing something you love right in front of you. Expectations can diminish your experience. Attention depends upon what you expect, as well. I was definitely paying attention to the landscape, the trees, plants, rocks, and my friends. But I was on an expedition in new territory, following a leader. When you approach a thing or a place from a new direction or someone else’s point of view, you might see it very differently. I have revisited that spot in my mind from both directions several times since then, recalling how I felt both times. Maybe it’s just me, but I still find this fascinating.

I feel like I can now apply this huge discovery to my whole life. Whoa. Expectations, attention, and perspective. I am the mayor of my life’s ass.

Then again, I could have early dementia . . .

“I am not absentminded. It is the presence of mind that makes me unaware of everything else.” ― G.K. Chesterton

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. 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.”

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Hard Pants

Although I love fall, at this time of year I find myself rebelling against having to wear long pants, socks that come up my ankle, and leather shoes. Ugh. Not to mention, coats, scarves, mittens–so many items. I want shorts or short skirts and t-shirts, athletic shoes with ankle socks, flip-flops. All of that other stuff binds, chafes, and restricts. No, thank you.

I was at the Eddie Bauer store in the mall the other day, returning a pair of jeans I’d bought online. Oh, they looked cool, fit nicely and all, but I could not bear to have them on for more than an hour, so they had to go back. Too scratchy! And that waist, snap, and zipper! Too binding! So I was chatting with the guy at the counter and he told me that someone he knew who had been working at home was having to go back to his workplace again and had said, “I really don’t want to start wearing hard pants again.” Hard pants! I love it!

Ahh, soft everything!

When I left my draining job as a therapist to pursue a creative life, I took off my watch and never wore it again. It represented that job to me, along with the fact that someone else owned my time, and I never wanted to wear a watch again. We all have those things that represent something bigger than what they are, usually something negative. We all have our “hard pants.”

Later, I accepted a clerical job in a medical office. I was in the middle of getting my greeting card and art business off the ground but I needed more income. I’d hoped to work just 3 days a week, but that wasn’t part of the deal, so I’d had to talk myself into the amount of time they required. Okay. Then I found out that I’d have to wear scrubs to work. Okay . . . maybe? I went to the uniform shop and was shown my two choices–olive green or khaki. Day after day, olive green or khaki. Not my colors, at all. I would not be able to present myself as an individual. Not only could I not wear my own clothes, I could not even choose my colors. Hard pants! (Although I bet they were comfortable.) I cried in the uniform shop. And then I called to say I could not take the job. Deal breaker.

Now here’s a uniform!

I once had a boss who said, “If you have to buy new clothes for a job, it’s probably not the right job for you.” I think she was right. So now it’s a season that requires a different set of clothes. I’m pondering. I’m strategizing. I’m plotting. Stay tuned. Just kidding. I won’t bore you with all of that. That’s probably not your “hard pants.”

“I often warn people: “Somewhere along the way, someone is going to tell you, ‘There is no “I” in team.’ What you should tell them is, ‘Maybe not. But there is an “I” in independence, individuality and integrity.”

― George Carlin

“everything you do shows your hand. everything is a self portrait. everything is a diary.”

― Chuck Palahniuk, Diary

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. 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.”

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Nudges

Brandywine Falls at Cuyahoga Valley National Park

I recently went on a big trip. I’d been longing to see my son, Peter, whom I had not seen for over two years. He and his brother live in New York. Cole was home for two nice long stretches of time in the past year but Peter, no. I talked about it with various people and almost every one of them encouraged me to go. Do it. Go. I made half-hearted plans to fly out, and even booked a flight. But I still felt reluctant. You hear all kinds of stories about air travel these days. And I hate to leave Miles, who is so much my dog that he gets a stomach ache whenever I am away overnight. So I cancelled my flight.

Peter and his girlfriend bought a house a little ways upstate near the Hudson River last April, and I really wanted to see it. They have woods and their land borders the Appalachian Trail. They have lots of room. He suggested that my youngest son and I put the dogs in the car and drive out. Hmm. Miles hates riding in the car. Rufus has all those health issues. Peter and Anne have cats and my dogs treat cats as squirrels–something to chase. It seemed too difficult.

My two sons, on a bluff behind FDR’s home overlooking the Hudson River and railroad tracks

Then, serendipitously and independently, a friend and I both heard about Cuyahoga Valley National Park, situated in Ohio, roughly between Cleveland and Akron. We both love the idea of visiting all of the National Parks. And I had learned that an old friend of mine lives inside the park! Jan asked if I would be interested in taking a 4-day weekend to go there. But I had noticed that this park is situated a little more than halfway between here and New York. Hmm. I mentioned this. Jan thought we could drive to Ohio, explore the park, and she could fly back to St. Louis from Cleveland. I figured I could drive the rest of the way to New York.

That was the first nudge that really took. How could I say no to that? It seemed like a very good plan. And then Peter offered to drive back to St. Louis with me! The final nudge that was just too good to pass up. This trip was meant to be. And so it became a real thing.

I steeled myself against anxiety about leaving my dogs.

Jan and I made plans for our drive and the park. I got in touch with my old friend. And off we went. I bought tickets for Peter and I to go to the Frank Lloyd Wright house, Fallingwater, in Pennsylvania, on our drive back to Missouri. Peter took the whole week off work and Cole, miraculously, was able to work from home for a good part of my visit. Everything fell right into place.

It was a marvelous trip, filled with fun, laughter, oh so much natural beauty, hiking, walking, art, and best of all, freewheeling, easy time with my boys. It absolutely filled up my heart. This was a trip that went beyond any expectations that I had. I could not have conjured a more wondrous time.

So, these nudges. I think it’s important to pay attention to them but also to pick and choose. All those other ones, from well-meaning friends and family just did not feel quite right to me. I went with my gut by saying no to those others but YES! when it finally did feel just right. And the result tells the story. I am practically full up to bursting with love and lightness.

So I’m saying, especially these days (we all keep saying phrases like this), don’t let anyone else’s grit and spunk push you to do something you’re not ready for. We’re all wild and adventurous in our own (sometimes quiet) ways. Sure, look at the options for whatever it is you long to do–but let yourself see how each one of those options feels inside of you. And then maybe act on those little nudges that feel just right, the ones that truly do speak to your heart.

“May your choices reflect your hopes, not your fears.” – Nelson Mandela

“Who can really say how decisions are made, how emotions change, how ideas arise? We talk about inspiration; about a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, but perhaps everything is just as simple and just as infinitely complex as the processes that make a particular leaf fall at a particular moment. That point has been reached, that’s all. It has to happen, and it does happen.” – John Ajvide Lindqvist, Harbor

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. 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.”

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Gathering

Recently, I’ve had the great pleasure of gathering with others–both friends and strangers–for three occasions. I participated in a lovely wedding, I was celebrated (grandly) for my 70th birthday, and then I was lucky enough to attend a marvelous music festival. It all felt so remarkable! And in a couple of days I will be driving across the country to gather with my two New York sons. I’ve had my Covid-19 booster shot and somehow I suddenly feel quite confident about the future.

This is certainly a change from even a few weeks ago. My organizing partner and I had just cancelled our annual November art show (again), due to concerns about Covid. I have not even considered participating in any indoor shows or events, going to a movie or the gym or an indoor concert. I probably will not do any of those things for awhile longer. But these recent gatherings have so lifted my spirit.

I won a weekend pass to our big local music festival, Roots ‘n’ Blues in a random drawing. It’s expensive and I never feel like it’s something I can afford. Everyone was required to show proof of vaccination or a negative Covid test. The rule gave me a feeling of ahhh, I have to say. The weekend was beautiful and it was a pleasure to be there with good friends. We reveled. This was shortly after gathering at a lake house for my birthday, where we ate and drank merrily, played games, sang songs, and lolled on our private dock gazing at the stars until long after my bedtime. My family had made a touching video for my birthday, with lots of old and new photos and video contributions from faraway friends, siblings, and family. It is a thing I will treasure forever and watch again and again. They went through great machinations to get it sent along with one of my friends and it was so much better that I watched it surrounded by friends.

Gathering. Feeling comfortable. Enjoying the company of our beloveds. What a luxury! I suppose none of us ever imagined that these simple things would feel so absolutely extravagant, but they sure do.

At Roots ‘n’ Blues, every single performer expressed their gratitude and delight at being able to do the thing they love, once again. For many of them, it was their first performance, especially to an audience of our size, in a very long time. They were in their element. And we were the lucky recipients of their all-out joy.

There were just so many memorable moments during all of these gatherings, all of them the kind of soft moments that warm the heart. They weren’t skydiving or hot air balloon moments or thrills of a lifetime. They were just pockets of loveliness that make your soul thrive.

I see many more of these gatherings and moments on the horizon. I do. I feel very open and hopeful right now that we are coming to the end of all the sickness and death and entering into a light-filled era of gratitude. I know I am feeling very grateful for all I have right now. I am totting up a list and letting it build a blanket fort in my heart.

“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best,” and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.” ― A. A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

“Later on, when they had all said “Good-bye” and “Thank-you” to Christopher Robin, Pooh and Piglet walked home thoughtfully together in the golden evening, and for a long time they were silent.

“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,” said Piglet at last, “what’s the first thing you say to yourself?”

“What’s for breakfast?” said Pooh. “What do you say, Piglet?”

“I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting to-day?” said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully. “It’s the same thing,” he said.”

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

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. 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.”