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Readiness

My new Fitbit now gives a Readiness Score that tells each day how ready your body is for strenuous activity. I have no idea how accurate it is, only that it’s based on what you did the day before, how your heart rate varied, and what kind of sleep you just had. Today, for example, Fitbit suggested to me that with my Readiness Score of 78, I could try for even more Zone Minutes (fat burn, cardio and peak).

But what if we gave ourselves a Readiness Score each morning and what if Zone Minutes meant moments of contentment, ease, and happiness?

I’m thinking Readiness could be a score from 1-100 based on how ready we feel to meet the day and its various demands, considering the weather and any other mitigating factors. We might shoot for 60 Zone Minutes and call that a very good day. Or maybe 15 or 20 minutes would be the goal, depending upon circumstances.

Today, for example, I do feel rested and energized for all the things on my agenda. Rested is key. The weather is unseasonably warm and sunny, so a leisurely walk with my dog and maybe later with a friend will be not only pleasant but easy. I can well imagine some Zone Minutes of contentment happening then. I have the chance to play pickleball indoors, whereas it’s a little windy to play outside today. I am free of injuries, so I can easily do that, most likely racking up quite a few Happy Zone Minutes. I have my MerryThoughts letter to write and I have this great idea for it. I have chocolate on hand. I am planning NOT to tackle income tax or sales tax on such a beautiful day, so I feel positive and happy about this day.

I’d give myself a Readiness Score of 91. I suppose it could be higher but I’m keeping it there just because. Well, Rufus is a worry with all his health problems, and then there’s The World. So a score of 100 would actually seem immoral.

If I were planning to work on my income tax or sales tax today, then I might not give myself such a high score. Or if I’d woken up tired, achey, allergic or even sick, I could see my score falling considerably. The whole thing would be meaningless if I gave myself some ridiculously high score every day.The point is, if we take a realistic approach to the day, keeping expectations in line with what is possible, and totting up those minutes of contentment, happiness, laughter, and even joy, well, then we might a) approach the day in a better frame of mind and b) end the day having reached the apogee of what could reasonably have been expected. Another successful day, with a Zone Minute goal met!

So what is your Readiness Score for today?

Before Dawn – Kay Foley

Up before dawn I make a vow
to do so again. And again.
From now on all the days
to have the fullness of the hours
sunrise to sunset and beyond
the rise of the moon
the popping out
of the stars
the unfolding of the day
a sheet of cloth opened out
layer by layer to make one
complete piece upon which
anything may be laid.
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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Headache

I’m not going anywhere.

I’ll start at your temples

spread upwards and across,

your frequent companion

your Achilles heel.

Unassailable, trenchant, here to stay.

I’m not going anywhere.

You can bring out your pills

dab on your oils

eat or drink whatever

you think might help

but I’m not going anywhere.

Always happy to stay

I’ll be here when you wake

from your troubled sleep.

Don’t think I won’t.

I’m not going anywhere.

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Hibernating

Do you find yourself sleeping more these days? I do. Lord! Lately I’ve had marathon sleeps–8 or 9 hours night after night–with record amounts of deep and REM sleep, according to my Fitbit. And then, too, I could easily nap in the afternoon–not at all like me. More like a bear. Or Miles.

At first I put it down to the busyness, stress and exhaustion of the last few weeks, getting ready for my solo show, visitors and Thanksgiving. Maybe I’m just catching up? Or what about allergies? Perhaps now that I get weekly allergy shots I’ll sleep rather than sneeze my way through the winter.

I rebelled against the change to cold weather, as usual, but now I have to admit I’m loving this late fall–the bare branches of trees against a sky that’s bright blue, solid white with clouds, or bursting into color at dawn. But wait a minute! I haven’t been seeing the dawn lately. Day after day I’ve been fast asleep. Just thinking of it now makes me a little wistful for my bed.

I love the early sunset and the long nights, being in for the night by 5:00, preferably in pajamas by 7:30, bed by 9:00. I love the coziness of lighted windows and porches in the dark. One does not even have occasion to use the word “cozy” in spring and summer. I’m almost disappointed that we’re already so close to the Winter Solstice, the return of the light and longer days.

So for now everything about this time of year feels just right. We have four very distinct seasons where I live and each has its own beauty. Oh, I might be singing a different tune when the temperature is 1, feels like -10. But that can be an adventure in its own right. Can we get through it?? There’s always some reward. Right now the reward is that I have a bed and dogs to share it with. I make my own schedule, so I really can sleep for hours if I want. How great is that? Life is good. Sleep is good. Zzzzzz.

Here is one of my favorite passages from the excellent J.M. Barrie book, Peter Pan.

“Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children’s minds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course you can’t) you would see your own mother doing this and you would find it very interesting to watch. It’s quite like tidying up drawers. You would see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some of your contents, wondering where on Earth you picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek, as if it were a nice kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtiness and evil passions with which you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottom of your mind and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out the prettier thoughts, ready for you to put on.” ― J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

Think of Mrs. Darling as a part of you, doing this for yourself every night. Wouldn’t it be so nice?

If you’d like to see my new paintings online, go here. 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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The Angels

Bone deep exhaustion landed me

in bed before nine with a wild

wind for my lullaby and now I’ll

go out of my self and out of my

house into the world wondering

what I might see or hear or do

on this impeccably particular day

what might appear arise

accost my senses

hurl me forth to imaginings

of tall ships and elephants

sights unseen dreams undreamed

a cortege of angels following

wordlessly above hovering

thither and yon traversing and travailing

waxing silently poetic about

whomever whatever

and whyever not.