Stepping Away from the Edge

Right Now . . . March 2013

So after a tough month, weather-wise (snow in March is never welcome, y'know?), it appears that March is . . . going out like a lamb!  Fine by me!

Here's what's happening in my life  . . . RIGHT NOW.

Watching . . . I'm re-watching Season 5 of Mad Men on Netflix right now in preparation for Season 6 (which begins on April 7).  I love to watch little Sally Draper . . . who is roughly the same age in the show as I was in real-time.  I'm always telling Tom . . . "I had those exact sheets!"  "I had those very shoes!"  "I had a locket just like that."  (He humors me.)  (And, of course.  There is Don.)  I'm also planning to check out Mr. Selfridge on Masterpiece Theater this Sunday night.

Reading . . . There are so many excellent books out there!  My to-read list is growing ever longer, and I lament my lack of reading time.  Right now, I'm enjoying Frances and Bernard immensely (this is an epistolary novel - letters - based on the correspondence of real-life authors Flannery O'Connell and Robert Lowell), and I'm also reading David Copperfield, my favorite Dickens of all time.  (Frances and Bernard is very short, and should be a quick read.  I, however, am savoring it slowly.  The writing is such a delight!)

Knitting . . . I'm doing an informal "knit-a-long" with some of my Kalamazoo knitting pals.  We're each making ChicKnit's Elisbeth cardigan (short sleeve version).  I'm actually a couple more repeats into the knit than the photo (above) shows.  It's a bit of a slog, I'll admit.  But I'm having fun with the cables.  I'm also knitting a spring-color version of this shawl.  And trying not to get too carried away with not-wool inspiration from this or this.

Listening to . . . Buena Vista Social Club.  They just make it feel like the sun is shining . . .and you're enjoying a gin and tonic . . . on the patio.

 

Thinking about . . . Priorities.  Setting them.  Having them.  Living them.  Life is full of options.

Dreading . . . Some dental work toward the end of April.  Ugh.  But not really much else right now.  (I'm in a good place this spring.)

Humming . . . Songs about sunshine.  Good Day Sunshine.  You are the Sunshine of My Life.  Walking in Sunshine.  But this is the one that is stuck in my head (enjoy it old school and original). . .

 

Planning . . . Gardens!  I have Big Ideas right now.  Some of them have been in-the-making for a couple of years.  This year . . . It Is Time.  (Get your diggin' shoes on, Tom!)

 

Celebrating . . . So very many things.  My birthday is tomorrow.  Jenny's leash restriction is over.  I'll be picking up my Mac later today.  Sunshine and mid-50s in the forecast.  (I'm ignoring the snow that is also in the forecast.)  

Drinking . . . Oberon.  (The Bell's Oberon release date is always like a birthday present to me!)

Itching to . . . Dig.  Not wear a coat.  Get a pedicure.  Wear my flip-flops.  Sit outside in the sunshine.

Needing to . . . Finish my taxes. I have started.  And, like they say. . . Once begun, half done.  So I must be at least half done by now!

Organizing . . .  The prime organization task on my to-do list is one I actually look forward to:  Switching out my winter clothes for my lighter spring and summer fare.  Can't wait!  (And check out the little notepads I found at Target for my written organizational tasks.  Love them!)

Inspired by . . . Surprises that are cropping up in my life.  Just little things. . . that really ARE surprising, when you stop and think about it.

Delighted by. . . Sort of wish I hadn't found these.  Because. . . YUM!

How about YOU?  What's going on for YOU . . . right now?

One Little Word Wednesday

Last month, our assignment for One Little Word was to create a "vision board" inspired by our word.   A "vision board" is, essentially, a visual intention -- a collection of images and words of what you'd like to invite into your life.

I have created many "vision boards" over the years -- in many forms.  Scrapbook collections of images and phrases I particularly like.  Bulletin boards of inspiring photos and quotes.  Collages of ideas.  (Before there was Pinterest. . . there were "vision boards!")

I had a great time with this project.  I gathered some magazines and my scissors, and I let the images and words shout out at me.  Then I mod-podged it all onto a 16 x 20 canvas from Michaels. 

Here's what I ended up with (click the photo to see it even bigger):

The process was therapeutic.  The just-looking (not reading).  The cutting out.  The deciding.  The gluing-it-down.

I loved the whole "old-school" nature of the project.

And I love what surfaced in all that cutting and pasting.

SURPRISE!

One Little Word(less) Wednesday

In the Contrast

There are dark shadows on the earth, but its lights are stronger in the contrast.  --- Charles Dickens

Yesterday, as I was rushing around the house preparing to leave for work, I walked into the kitchen and saw this. . .

The sun was breaking over my back fence, lighting my morning and taking my breath away for a minute.

And then. . .

I noticed this. . .

Light . . . stronger in the contrast.

Create light . . . create shadow.

Surprise.

Resolutions

"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness.  I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can.  And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself."  -- Neil Gaiman

When I saw that quote flying around on Facebook yesterday, I realized . . . I just couldn't say it any better.  As he so often does, Neil Gaiman has inspired.  He has given me my motto for 2013.

Surprise yourself.

Indeed.

As for the rest of my New Year's resolutions:

• Listen
• Support
• Act
• Consider
• Risk
• Try
• Reach
• Stretch
• Move
• Offer
• Plan
• Grow
• Rest
• Document

So, let it begin!

(Good madness.  Don't you just love it?)

 

Shining Images

Each month, the One Little Word project leads you through a guided exercise to help you connect with your chosen word in new and different ways.  For February, it was all about images. . . connecting with your word through photographs or other images that represent your word.

I had a lot of fun with this exercise!  I enjoyed looking through my photo files and finding those that "spoke" to me, in some way, about my word.  I ended up with quite a collection of photos that said SHINE. . . and then I winnowed it down to just nine.

After I chose my images (or maybe. . . I let them chose me. . .), I started reflecting on just why they said SHINE.  What, exactly, was it about each image that so represents SHINE for me?

Well.

Sometimes, something is incredibly beautiful and delicate and fine.  But you don't always notice it until the sun shines and catches it in the light.

There can be plenty of color and passion and beauty . . . even at the end of the day.

Take time to smell the roses!

Embrace each new day.

Quit putting your dreams aside.  DO the things you've always wanted to do.  SEE the things you've dreamed of seeing.  Find a way.

It's a beautiful world we live in.  Get out there.  Notice.

Even when things are in shadow, or you just see an outline, remember. . . the light is shining behind you.

Go for it!  Sip a café crème on the Champs-Élysees!  Follow your dreams. 

Every day is a gift.  Embrace your birthday.  MORE candles; more light; more chances to SHINE.

And, as a final reminder, I included a large image of the Holstee Manifesto - one of my favorite reminders to SHINE.

One Little Word. 

SHINE!

Strive to be Happy

Remember the Desiderata?

Go placidly among the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. . .

When I was a teenager, I used to have a poster of the Desiderata hanging on the wall of my bedroom.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others. . .

During those confusing, growing-up days, those words used to soothe me.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. . .

Those words used to whisper across my room . . . giving me hope for a life beyond the agony of adolescence.

Enjoy. . .

Keep interested. . .

Strive for high ideals. . .

Be yourself. . .

Over the years, though, as I really did grow up, I sort of forgot about the Desirderata.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. . .

Until a few years ago, when I stumbled upon it again, in book form, on the clearance table in my local Barnes & Noble.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. . .

Now, that book sits out on my coffee table all the time.  It's a beautiful book, and I pick it up and read through the poem often.

Be gentle with yourself.  You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. . .

The words still whisper to me from across the room

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. . .

Reminding me.

Strive to be happy.

 

Shine On

When I finished chemo (nearly 3 years ago now!) and started . . . living my life. . . there was a certain sense of . . . Newness.  Freshness.  Shiny-ness. . . all around me.  It was like I had been polished; like whatever had been hidden beneath (from all those years of lliving. . . instead of LIVING) had been suddenly exposed.  A little raw, surely, but also fresh. . . and. . . new. . . and shiny!

The colors seemed brighter; contrasts sharper.  My senses were heightened.  I was more aware.  Of everything.  And the world felt more . . . mine.  I didn't want to wast a minute!  I wanted to DO and GRAB and BE.  I wanted to SHINE.

I really liked that feeling. 

Having cancer sucked, no doubt about that.  Chemo is just plain creepy and unpleasant.  It is shattering to pull back the Veil of Illusion and know, deep in your bones, that your life really IS limited (maybe not now, but . . . eventually).  I came out of that experience, though, with a new attitude.  A sense of . . . Freedom.  Appreciation.  Newness.  Clarity.  Prioirty. 

For a while, I really did live a shiny, new life.  Little things didn't bother me.  I was joy-filled and open to new things.  I felt free-er and happier than I had in a very long time. 

And, in most ways, that is still the case.  But.  I can also tell that some of life's "tarnish" is building up on me again.  It's been long enough (and that's a gift in itself!) that I'm losing some of that . . . shine!

So I think the word SHINE started coming to mind . . . as a way to remind me of what life felt like in that first year after chemo.  To encourage me to buff off the tarnish building up on my life.  To let that fresh, exposed me SHINE through.

One little word.

SHINE

 

One Little . . . Wavelength

I read a lot of blogs every week.  Mostly, I read and follow women bloggers who, when it comes right down to it, are, basically, a lot like me.  I feel a certain affinity with the bloggers I follow -- a kinship; a connection.  We share . . . hobbies, histories, outlooks on life.  We laugh together.  We support each other. 

It's definitely the best part of blogging!

A while ago, I discovered Mary's blog.  (I think I may have stumbled upon it through our mutual participation in Ten on Tuesday.)  Right from the start, I felt like I was on the same wavelength as Mary.

There were the Quite Obvious things:  We're roughly the same age.  Our kids are roughly the same ages.  We knit.  (A lot.)  We're both "retired" from our former jobs. . . but we both work at yarn shops now.  Our husbands travel to Asia for their work.  We both have black dogs . . . and we walk them every day.  We're both committed to staying fit, exercise, and healthy eating.  We like to travel.  We're close to our families.  We both have "bird trees" as part of our holiday decor.

But there are also some Less Obvious things:  We are both long-time journalers.  We both like personal introspection.  We both keep inpsiration boards near our work spaces.  We're often thinking/mulling about the same kinds of life-questions.  We both seem to be drawn to the same types of outlets for creative expression.

Many times, when I read something Mary has written on her blog, I just stop and say out loud, "Huh!  Me, too!"  I'm often inspired to think a little deeper, reach out for a new idea, or connect some loose thoughts together after reading Mary's posts.

Earlier this year, I read about Mary's One Little Word experience.  I was intrigued.  I was inspired.  She encouraged me to try it myself -- and I did.  I liked it so much (even though I didn't blog about my experience in 2011), that I decided to participate in One Little Word again in 2012.

I started thinking about my word in early December.  It just sort of . . . came to me. . . my word.  In a song, in random thoughts, as I was working on household chores, as I was knitting.  One word.  It just kept surfacing.

Imagine my surprise, last week, when Mary revealed her own word for 2012 on her blog. . . and it was the same as mine!!!  (Talk about . . . sharing a wavelength.)

This year, my One Little Word . . . and Mary's One Little Word . . . are the same.  SHINE.

It was sort of shocking, certainly, to discover we both came up with the same word.  Independently and without shared discussion.  But I think it feels  . . . right . . . to share this One Little Word with Mary.  (We definitely have some sort of wavelength thing going on!)  I'm looking forward to the process.

 

One Little Word

"Whatever you want to do, do it now.  There are only so many tomorrows."  -- Michael Landon

When I first finished up my chemo treatments and was tagged with the "remission" label, I was in a very fragile place:  I was at The Edge.  A lot relieved.  A little scared.  Suddenly. . . the colors were brighter.  The sky was bigger.  Things just tasted better.  Change had come.  I was learning to live with the uncomfortable certainty that . . . life really IS limited.  So make it count!  I threw open my arms.  I embraced the world around me.  I lived like time was precious.  I stepped away from The Edge.  But I was still close enough . . . to think about it all the time.

In that first year after chemo, I reached out to people and activities and dreams in a way I never had before.  I tended to say . . . "Why not?". . . "Let's do it!". . . "I want to". . . "YES!"  I didn't stop to overanalyze; I opened myself to possibilities; I didn't get bogged down with things.  I was really clear about what was important and what I wanted to do and who I wanted to do it with.  And that felt really good!

And now?   (Nearly) three years since?

Well.  Even though, from time to time,  I get close to The Edge again, for the most part, I'm finding my angle of repose -- that point where I've settled in to what's comfortable; to what seems "normal;" to-almost-but-not-quite where I was before I had cancer.

And, you know. . . this bothers me a little.

As I slide into a new angle of repose, I can feel myself losing that openness.  I'm starting to feel frozen by "oughts" and "shoulds"; I'm starting to say "yes" to things that aren't really important to me; I'm starting to feel like there is plenty of time.

I've learned that being a little close to The Edge. . . isn't necessarily a bad thing.  I mean, if your angle of repose lets you believe that there are plenty of tomorrows ahead of you. . . you may miss opportunities to seize today.  (And I actually like reaching out for those opportunities!)

This is the "anniversary-time" of the awful, dark days of my initial cancer diagnosis and the beginning of my treatment.  (Three years, now!)  It's become a time of reflection and remembering.  This year, I'm haunted by this new angle of repose; this feeling frozen; that, perhaps, I've actually stepped TOO far from The Edge.

And then, a week or so ago, I read one of Mary's posts. . . about the One Little Word project she was doing for 2011.  When I read her post, I was struck!  Like, in the words of Tom in Four Weddings and a Funeral. . . "lightning bolt city!"  Something about what she wrote resonated with me, and really got me thinking.

One little word (an actual word, not the project) has  been surfacing in my mind for a few weeks; a little voice that keeps getting louder.  I didn't realize there was actually a "program" designed to help you listen to that word -- but, WOW, was that an interesting concept!

After a quick pow-wow with Mary, I decided to join the One Little Word program myself.  Yeah, I'm quite late to the party.  Which is fine.  What it means is that I'll have to move through the one-month exercises at my own pace.  And I'm okay with that.  I'm ready!  I need this.

One Little Word. . . has been there for awhile.

One Little Word. . . is getting louder.

One Little Word. .  .is needing to be explored.

One Little Word. . .

MOVE!