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Ten Years From Now

In an effort at being published, I made up a big glorious package of stuff and sent it to Chronicle Books! August 2012

I did an exercise on Calm, the meditation and sleep app (LOVE & highly recommend), in which I was asked to imagine myself ten years from now, happy. Then think about what it is that’s making me feel happy. Whoa. Mind-blowing.

You wouldn’t think it would be, would you? Well, I’ve done this type of thing many times before, with Julia Cameron and others, when I was younger. Back then, I imagined all sorts of things in my future. I had big ambitions, including: Published Writer at Chronicle Books (with an agent), Successful Artist, Love of My Life Found, Nice Big House (no repairs waiting to be done), Plenty of Money for travel or whatever, and when I was really on a roll, Apartment Overlooking Central Park (in addition to the house). As I say, I was younger and more ambitious.

I thought I could catch someone’s eye.

This time I had an immediate vision of myself ten years from now, smiling, decidedly wrinkly, with wispy grey hair pulled back, standing in front of a painting in progress in my messy studio right here in this same house where I live now and that I really do love, even with its many problems, just plain happy. A simple life, my house paid off, less to do, less to worry about, a little creaky but obviously healthy, happily working on a painting. No big ambition or plan. It was a quiet little smile of contentment that I had. And I did not need a moment of reflection or thought to have that vision arrive in my mind’s eye. It just popped up, easy as pie. It was wonderful!

I packed it all up in this enticing box and sent it off! No response.

I’m so shocked at how different this exercise turned out from when I was younger. I had so many ambitions for myself! I used to go off to art shows thinking, “Anything can happen!” Maybe at this show I’d be discovered! By whom? I don’t know. I guess an agent. I wanted to be able to use the phrase, “my publisher.” That was big. When I went to the NY Stationery Show in 2009, I honestly hoped that I might a) be signed by Chronicle Books b) find the love of my life and c) end up with that apartment overlooking Central Park, where I’d stay part of the year visiting my sons and being a famous New York writer/artist.

Age really does make a remarkable difference. I love the difference, in this case. I like this version of Ten Years From Now very much. Oh, I still very occasionally think of maybe having these letters find their way to a publishing house–but that’s about it. Mostly I’m just happy that I get to write them and you are willing to read them and some of you write me back. All wonderful. Contentment is a pretty great thing.

Again, I know I’m lucky and so far, fingers crossed, aging well, though I know anything can happen. Not necessarily the “Anything can happen!” of going off to shows, either. But so far, very lucky.

“The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.” ― Robert Frost

“Wrinkles here and there seem unimportant compared to the Gestalt of the whole person I have become in this past year.”― May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

“At 11, I could say ‘I am sodium’ (Element 11), and now at 79, I am gold.”― Oliver Sacks

“But if we are truly happy inside, then age brings with it a maturity, a depth, and a power that only magnifies our radiance.”― David Deida, Intimate Communion

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.”

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Prizes? Prizes!

My painting, “Frolic”

This past weekend a local art show was held at the bank downtown where I won Third Place in painting last year. I always enter and I did so again this year. I had intended to write this letter about prizes in art and what they mean, since I was not expecting to win again this year. I was going to write about the roller coaster ride of prizes, shows, acceptance, rejection, and sales.

Well, this year I got First Place in Painting! WOW. I heard the news from a friend. Gobsmacked. Stunned. Very very happy. Told many people the happy news. Right as I was going to bed last night I worried that my friend may have gotten it wrong. Maybe it was Third Place or Honorable Mention and I’d already told all those people I got First. But no. It was true. Wow.

The thing is, a few weeks earlier another of my paintings had been rejected from a show put on by this same arts group. But I am no stranger to rejection, as anyone who’s done art shows will also say. I once met a guy who helped found the Plaza Art Fair in Kansas City and after the first couple of years, he was rejected! Another artist I know had his work used on the brochure for a show for which he was rejected. It is not uncommon to win a prize one year and be rejected the next.

So, prizes in art–what do they even mean? Generally, they mean that a particular judge or set of judges really likes your work. It’s great to win, of course. It feels wonderful and I am thrilled. I love my painting and somebody else out there loves it, too! Validation is always welcome when you’re putting yourself out into the world through art or writing or anything creative. I mean, many of us would say that when we show our art, we are essentially saying, “See me. Look at what I did! Love me.” This is why I appreciate those people who take the time to really look at my work as much as I do those who buy it. I feel seen.

Had I not won a prize, my day still would have included something like this. Win!

I will, of course, continue to let people know about this prize. Of course! My painting and ribbon were even shown on the news! Wahoo!! More people to see me, look at what I did, love me. By the time you read this, I will have received my prize in front of everyone gathered there. I will have felt seen and celebrated. As long as I don’t let not winning or being rejected rule me, I’m good.

Prizes encourage me to keep painting, even when the painting is ugly at some point in the middle. Ugh. Prizes help me remember that I have managed to pull other paintings through to the other side. They remind me that I can do it again, even if I have to struggle (as I often do). But they are not everything, by any means. I don’t paint for prizes. I do it because I love doing it. It’s fun and it takes me back to being a kid, playing, getting messy. It is just so much JOY. How lucky am I? Sheesh!

“Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing.” ― Theodore Roosevelt

“It is deeply satisfying to win a prize in front of a lot of people.” ― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

“Art must be an expression of love or it is nothing.” Marc Chagall

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.”

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Square Foot of Wonders

Yesterday I was sitting out on my stoop, actually almost in my driveway, waiting for a friend to arrive for a walk and from there I made a wonderful, though not really earth-shattering, discovery.

I had just listened to a short meditation by Jeff Warren called “Whole Body Listening.” Very nice. And it was a gorgeous autumnal day. Bright and crisp, with a deep blue sky. I was lying on my back in the sun, right there by my driveway, eyes open to my neighbor’s tree against that blue sky and as so often happens, was inspired to take a photo looking straight up. Lovely.

Then the magic happened. I was further inspired by the light and the colors to take photos all around me, from just right there, without getting up or finding a different vantage point, just right from where I was (reminding me of Pema Chodron’s lovely book, Start Where You Are). There were so many beautiful little things right there around me, in that very humble spot, the sidewalk at the edge of my cracked driveway. Each way I turned my head I found something picture worthy, at least, to my mind.

And isn’t that the simple truth? That anywhere we are, there are little humble things, pretty or interesting things, worthy of our attention and gratitude. You might even say worthy of love and you might even call them wonders. All these unassuming things everywhere around us, ripe for the eye’s picking. If you’re game for looking, for seeing, for spending a little time in a way that others might call pointless, and you don’t have any particular expectations, you will be rewarded, practically anyplace you find yourself.

I found this fossil rock years ago and put it in my messy “rock garden.”

I wasn’t looking for New England fall colors or Rocky Mountain views. I was just looking. Looking and seeing while sitting still in that simple spot. And it was such a pleasure. It just goes to show that simple pleasures, and even wonders, abound, as long as we’re open to them.

I had an aching back that day, too, which is why I lay down to listen to that meditation in the first place and why I saw the beguiling sky and tree above when I opened my eyes. That aching back gave me such an opportunity. I truly believe opportunities, too, are all around us and we need to seize upon them whenever we can.

What might you see just outside your door, at the end of the sidewalk, or just by the nearby curb? Wonders, I’ll bet. What little bodily grievance might lead you to something wonder-full?

“I have learned over a period of time to be almost unconsciously grateful–as a child is–for a sunny day, blue water, flowers in a vase, a tree turning red. I have learned to be glad at dawn and when the sky is dark. Only children and a few spiritually evolved people are born to feel gratitude as naturally as they breathe, without even thinking. Most of us come to it step by painful step, to discover that gratitude is a form of acceptance.” ― Faith Baldwin, Many Windows, Seasons of the Heart

“I hope these simple things are what I forever love about life, for then I will be happy no matter where I find myself.”― R. YS Perez, I Hope You Fall in Love

“When simple is more than enough, you will feel happy more than enough!”― Mehmet Murat Ildan

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.”

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Decisions, Decisions

This is how I feel when I have a hard choice to make.

It takes me forever to make certain decisions. There are times when I’m paralyzed by two choices that both seem too hard. Surely that’s just human, isn’t it? Isn’t it?

My sister had a big birthday this past weekend, with most of the family going to be there, old friends, too, and I was not feeling well. For me, being with all of them for her big day meant travel–by car, then shuttle, then two airplanes, then BART–a big full exhausting day of travel. I’ve done it many times, no problem, but this time I did not feel at all well. Throughout the week, I took six Covid tests, all negative. I wanted a definitive answer. You have Covid; therefore you cannot go. Ahh. Decision made for me. Meaning I’d rather have Covid than take responsibility for my own choices? Hmm.

Here’s the sister who had the birthday party that I missed, and who is now a woman of a certain age.

But no. I had conversations with all three of my sisters, my son, and a couple of good friends, all of whom asked good questions and made wise comments. Still. The decision felt like a choice between me (actually, my body) and someone I love. Ooh. That is hard. Plus, there are Others to think of. I could make others sick! In the end, I stayed home. It was the right thing to do. But not fun.

No one can tell you what to do when you’re caught in this kind of conundrum. You can talk and talk and listen and listen, but eventually you just have to decide. You have to pick one. I suppose I just really didn’t want to choose either.

And here’s the universe, doing its thing, a la Deeprak Chopra (below).

Some people seem to have no trouble making decisions. Sheesh! I know all the tricks. Make a list of pros and cons. Easy. Imagine yourself doing each of the things and note how you feel as you imagine it. Sure, I’ve done that. I’ve advised Others to do it. Toss a coin and notice how you feel about the outcome. Sure. Toss a coin and accept the outcome. No, thank you. There are just times when neither choice feels right, and therefore, it’s nearly impossible to decide.

What I know for sure is that being in that state of indecision is terrible, worse as time drags on. It is the worst. But in the end, I almost always make good decisions. I generally don’t leap at dumb ideas, throw money away on things I have no business owning, or say yes to things I really don’t want to do. But what about my pain and suffering when I cannot decide? Ugh.

Now look, below, at what I just found from dear old Deepak Chopra!

“If you obsess over whether you are making the right decision, you are basically assuming that the universe will reward you for one thing and punish you for another.

The universe has no fixed agenda. Once you make any decision, it works around that decision. There is no right or wrong, only a series of possibilities that shift with each thought, feeling, and action that you experience.

If this sounds too mystical, refer again to the body. Every significant vital sign–body temperature, heart rate, oxygen consumption, hormone level, brain activity, and so on–alters the moment you decide to do anything . . . decisions are signals telling your body, mind, and environment to move in a certain direction.”― Deepak Chopra, The Book of Secrets

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.”

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Into Thin Air

On my recent trip to Rocky Mountain National Park I worried about the thin air at elevation. Would I be able to do what I wanted to do while there, or would I have to stay back at our beautiful rental house?

The RMNP website offers this explanation about breathing at elevation: “At higher elevations there is less air pressure which results in the oxygen molecules being more dispersed. Until your body adjusts, it will struggle to take in enough oxygen. This can result in shortness of breath, as well as headache, fatigue, loss of appetite, and even nausea. It is not uncommon to experience breathlessness with even a simple walk down the sidewalk or up a flight of stairs, even for those who are very fit.”

I did struggle, but not so much that I could not go and do. I quickly learned that I needed to pause to breathe, sometimes often, and I had to let the struggle be okay. Isn’t that the teaching in meditation, though? Pause, be present, and breathe. Focus on the breath.

I love that the altitude forces you to be mindful of your breath, of oxygen, and of the present moment. Right now, in this moment, breathe. Be mindful of this life force–air–oxygen–and take it in as well as your body and lungs allow. Go at your own pace. Breathe, as suits your body.

Breathing is not a thing to take for granted, especially there, but anywhere. But there, at those high elevations, you really have to pay attention to it. The altitude, the mountains, become a teacher, asking you to be mindful of the breath, of your body, of your very basic needs and abilities, of your surroundings. Be present. Breathe.

I found this all so interesting. The meditation teachers always have you “focus on the breath.” Susan Salzberg speaks of “just this one breath.” And the mountains do, too.

Teachers everywhere. Thank you.

“If you want to conquer the anxiety of life, live in the moment, live in the breath.”― Amit Ray, Om Chanting and Meditation

“Breath is the bridge which connects life to consciousness, which unites your body to your thoughts. Whenever your mind becomes scattered, use your breath as the means to take hold of your mind again.” ― Thich Nhat Hanh, The Miracle of Mindfulness

“The Tantric sages tell us that our in-breath and out-breath actually mirror the divine creative gesture. With the inhalation, we draw into our own center, our own being. With the exhalation, we expand outward into the world.” ― Sally Kempton, Awakening Shakti

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.”

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Mountains! Mountains!

I just returned from a week at Rocky Mountain National Park with eight women friends. Again, I feel transformed.

I have always said I’m an ocean person. Well, I am. I love the ocean. Most of these gals would love to live in the mountains. That has never been me. Driving across Colorado to see family in California, I’ve of course admired the beauty of the Rockies. I’ve oohed and ahhed at the magnificence each time I drove through, and I certainly felt lucky to be where I was. But my spirit has never been particularly drawn to the mountains.

Well, I suppose things can change, even within a 72-year-old heart. I suppose one can have more than one love, more than one heart’s destination.

Now I so wish I’d spent more time at RMNP all these years that I’ve lived in Missouri. I am only a long day’s drive from there. I wish I’d taken my sons there when they were young, maybe even every summer. Why not? We could so easily have done that. We went to the Grand Canyon, Zion, Yosemite, Bandolier, all camping or backpacking trips–but never to RMNP, which is so much closer. Why? I can’t know. I cannot fathom a reason–but that is one of those things you just have to let go.

Everyone knows the Rockies are absolutely breathtaking! I’ve always loved the constant motion of the ocean, but in the mountains you have the constantly moving clouds, settling comfortably in a valley, sitting high enough above to cast their unique shadows across the earth, or completely obscuring the whole mountain range in a second or two–and then sailing away, rising, or disappearing. Poof! There’s that view again. I could sit and watch that dance, one that is not unlike that of the sea and the shore, for hours.

Look where I was!

I was able to hike, and even to hike for six hours one day, despite my worries about the altitude and breathing. We were able to hike up, on foot, to the beautiful mountain lakes and to marvel at the amazing vistas spread before us. I am so grateful for that, for my friends, for my body, for the mountains which do so change one’s perspective. And I myself am changed. I am so very grateful for all of this! And I will go back. I hope to go back again and again.

So we walked and hiked a lot in the thin air, and we breathed, and we paused often, and there were magnificent views as well as pretty little wildflowers. And there was picture taking and eating and stargazing and searching for bull moose and bear and bighorn sheep, and listening for the bull elks’ mating call.

So I’ve come away from a trip yet again with many thoughts, reflections, and realizations. Though it breaks my heart a little every time I say goodbye to my dogs, travel is good for the heart, mind, and soul. And I am immensely grateful for all that I have.

“Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken, over-civilized people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home.”― John Muir

“I like the mountains because they make me feel small,’ Jeff says. ‘They help me sort out what’s important in life.” ― Mark Obmascik, Halfway to Heaven

“She was nothing before that view, these mountains. As insignificant to any of it as one of the stones that still rattled in her boot. It was a blessed relief, to be nothing and no one.” ― Sarah J. Maas, A ​Court of Silver Flames

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.”

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Memory

I just read the beautifully written book, Someone, by Alice McDermott. As it turns out, I just read it for the second time, although I didn’t realize it until I’d gotten quite far into it.

I loved how it was described on the jacket. A girl growing up Catholic in Brooklyn in the ’40s. Right up my alley. I particularly like books that are set in a different time period from my own. And this one is set in Brooklyn. Perfect!

Pencil factory in Brooklyn

In the story, the neighborhood boys play stickball in the street, a blind veteran of WWI sitting in a chair in front of his stoop. For some reason, the boys turn to this man, Billy Corrigan, to call questionable hits out or in. His calls are gospel, unquestioned. This, of course, jogged my memory. You can read and read but you won’t find a blind stickball referee in more than one book.

As I read on, I felt again like I was in new territory. Perhaps I didn’t get much beyond the stickball scene? Perhaps a book I’d had on hold at the library came available and I’d abandoned Someone for it? Plausible enough. I read on. Seemingly it was all new to me–until oh, three fourths of the way into the book, there’s another strikingly familiar incident concerning the protagonist’s cataract surgery (no spoilers here, I hope). Okay, clearly, I’d read (and loved) the book before. Aiyiyi!

I’m pretty sure I’ve used this photo before, but here it is. Again!

I keep a list of Books Read these days, but I only started it a few years ago. This one isn’t on it. Well, at least I read it more than a few years ago. That helps. And I suppose one could be grateful for the chance to read, again, a lovely book, with fresh eyes, with a brain that is unsullied by this or that from a previous reading. This book was definitely worth a second reading. Or possibly even a third?

Ah well. Now I’m going to add a poem that I am very well aware I have added to a previous post. You needn’t point it out! It’s just too perfect for this one and half of you probably won’t remember having read it before, anyway. 😉

Forgetfulness – Billy Collins

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue
or even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall

well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.

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.”

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Sold!

“Yosemite”

I just sold a painting I thought I wanted to keep forever. It went to a very good friend who has wanted it for months. (She lives nearby, too.)

I’ve listened to painters talk about the struggle in the creation of a finished piece. The struggle, the failures, the wrong turns, the stress, the self-doubt, destroying a painting to make it better–all real but fairly new to me. Oh, I struggled with a collage now and then, but there you’re shifting the pieces around. You don’t glue them until you’re happy with it. With a painting, you put something down, you might hate it immediately and take it off, or you may like it at the moment and an hour later or the next day, you hate it. A dog’s breakfast.

Me and my painting hanging in the Daum Museum

This painting is significant to me partly because it was such a struggle. I worked and worked on it, again and again rejecting what I had done. And then, suddenly, it was finished. A triumph! I had solved the problems with it. The painting and I had reached an agreement. I fell in love with it. There are many things I love about it: the “string of pearls” at the top, the pops of orange, pink and red, poking through all that luscious blue, the dots and pink circles I made with my fingers, the many layers of color and mark. I felt that I had achieved a certain level of mastery with this one. I love this painting.

Then it was chosen to go to the Daum Museum in Sedalia MO along with art works by several other Missouri artists whom I admire. That was thrilling. It meant that others, people who know a few things about art, felt that it was a triumph, as well. It spent the summer there. And I went with three friends to see my painting hanging in a museum, no less!

Here’s a close-up of the “string of pearls.”

Meanwhile, my friend really wanted it. She was saving a spot on her newly painted wall. She made several overtures. I thought no, I want to keep this one because of what I went through to finish it. We talked. I said I’d see how I felt once I brought the painting home.

Then I realized that, as they say, it’s the doing of a thing that is more important than the thing itself. I will always hold the feeling of my triumph. I will always have the satisfaction of having struggled and broken through to the other side of that struggle. I will always remember the excitement I felt when, suddenly, it was finished and suddenly, I loved it.

I don’t need to have it here in order to feel those things and know those things. I did that. I feel that. That will not go away if the painting goes and lives somewhere else. And my friend really loves it. Aren’t these the things we’re looking for when we create? Our own pleasure and growth in the doing, plus the knowledge that what we’ve made brings joy to someone else? So I leaned towards selling it to her, leaned into the idea, and then, on a gorgeous evening at an outdoor concert, I said I’d love for her to have it if she still wanted it. And her face lit up. So that’s that. Another sudden breakthrough.

I am continually surprised at how painting–creativity in general but somehow painting in particular–teaches me things, helps me grow, adds layers to who I am. Just as I add layers to my paintings, they add layers to me. You cannot beat that. Cannot.

“Every now and then one paints a picture that seems to have opened a door and serves as a stepping stone to other things.” ― Pablo Picasso

“The discipline of creation, be it to paint, compose, write, is an effort towards wholeness.” ― Madeleine L’Engle, Walking on Water

“To talk about paintings is not only difficult but perhaps pointless too. You can only express in words what words are capable of expressing– what language can communicate. Painting has nothing to do with that.” ― Gerhard Richter

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.”

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Abundance

I’m writing this on my 72nd birthday. I think I’ve said so before, but I always like to check my birthday number in terms of the mathematical principles of abundant, deficient, perfect, and prime.

Prime numbers, as everyone knows, cannot be divided by anything else. Perfect numbers’ divisors add up exactly to the number itself, and that is very cool. Deficient numbers are those whose factors (divisors) add up to less than the number itself, whereas abundant numbers’ factors add up to more than the number itself.

Well, 72 is incredibly abundant. Yeehah!! I take this as a sign that my 72nd year will be filled with abundance. And I am here to say that it has already begun.

Last night I went on a night bike ride sponsored by our Parks & Rec Department, called Kaleidospoke. It’s all about lights and color (much like the Lantern Festival in Taiwan). I went with three wonderful friends who had gifted me with my ticket to the event, including a “glow package” and s’mores by the lake. The ride is on a gravel trail with many bridges over the creek. The bridges are all lit up and there are lots of other lights poking out of the ground or otherwise lining the trail. Magical!

And then of course, starting out at 7:00 p.m., in the gathering light, sunset is happening over the lake. Ahh. So lovely. We, ourselves, were lit up, as were our bikes. We had things stuck on top of our helmets or dangling off of us. Lots of people had lit up their bike wheels. It was super fun, but especially so because of the company I was in. Already I’m feeling the abundance.

I won twice in a row at Mah Jongg on Friday, too! And on Wednesday when I returned, after years away to play pickleball at the gym, I won game after game. Strangers were happy to meet me. I learned the names of 15 new people! One (Chuck) said, “Come back. We want you here.” I told my son, “I’m Somebody there!” Abundance.

So the abundance is all happening.

Just to say, whenever I hit a year whose number is deficient, I ignore that, and I think you should, too. But the other three–woohoo!! And since it’s my birthday and I’m having a party, I’ll have to keep this one short.

I hope your year forward is also ABUNDANT!

“Keep your best wishes close to your heart and watch what happens”― Tony DeLiso, Legacy: The Power Within

“Plant seeds of happiness, hope, success, and love; it will all come back to you in abundance. This is the law of nature.” ― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You

“The truth is that there’s more than enough good to go around. There are more than enough creative ideas. There is more than enough power. There is more than enough love. There’s more than enough joy. All of this begins to come through a mind that is aware of its own infinite nature. There is enough for everyone. If you believe it, if you can see it, if you act from it, it will show up for you. That’s the truth.” ― Michael Beckwith

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.”

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Miles’ 14th Birthday

Miles, my sweet and stalwart companion, turned 14 on August 19th. He is 73 in miniature poodle years. I will turn 72 on August 27th, so we are almost the same age. And yet I feel in such better shape than he seems to be.

I worry about him all the time. He is covered with lypomas (fatty tumors) and seems to get another new one weekly. I feel like they impede his movements, though I’m told they do not. He struggles both to lie down and to get up from lying down, both of which he does many times a day, as he follows me around the house. He seems to have trouble finding a comfortable place to lie, as well. I give him three different medications for his aches and pains. Do they help? At all?? I can’t see it, if so.

And he is the younger of my two dogs. He seems to have gone from hale and hearty to OLD in a very short time.

On his 5th birthday

Such is the heartbreak of loving animals. Their lives are just too short.

For his birthday I gave him extra canned food for breakfast, carried treats in my pocket for our walk, and since he loves other dogs, took him to the dog park so he could meet lots of them. And then later, he had presents to open. He loves opening packages. All fine enough. But I watched all those young, fit dogs running and swimming, having a wonderful time, and wished that my darling Miles could join them and have that kind of fun, himself.

I have accepted my own aging much better than I have his. I’ve slowed down, too, but I really am doing fine. I can walk much farther than he can and do just about anything I really want to do. I rather enjoy calling myself an Old Lady and I’m even, mostly, proud of it. Oh, I worry about my brain sometimes, but my body still serves me well. His? Not so much. And he can’t talk or joke about it. He can’t say, “Oh, I’m fine. I really am fine. Don’t you worry your tiny little (old) brain about it.”

And Rufus, with his terrible history as a stray, the broken leg, his heart murmur, spinal stenosis, and Addison’s disease, well, of course I understand why he has issues. And he has done very well, considering. So I can accept this and actually feel grateful for how well he has done for all these years.

So this thing of acceptance with no strings attached? There, I’m stuck. The Buddha taught that fighting against the realities of life creates suffering. I am here to say, “Okay, Buddha! You’re right!”

You, reader, might be expecting a possibly uplifting conclusion right about now. I’m not sure what it can be, other than that I will just keep trying to accept what is, as we all must, even for those innocent Others. I’ll love on Miles and do what I can do for him. And try to practice acceptance.

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

“All his life he tried to be a good person. Many times, however, he failed. For after all, he was only human. He wasn’t a dog.”― Charles M. Schulz

“A person can learn a lot from a dog, even a loopy one like ours. Marley taught me about living each day with unbridled exuberance and joy, about seizing the moment and following your heart. He taught me to appreciate the simple things–a walk in the woods, a fresh snowfall, a nap in a shaft of winter sunlight. And as he grew old and achy, he taught me about optimism in the face of adversity. Mostly, he taught me about friendship and selflessness and, above all else, unwavering loyalty.”― John Grogan, Marley and Me

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.”