Coming back to life again

It's Saturday, 9:04 AM as I write this.  I'm enjoying an uncommonly quiet, slow pace.  Usually by now, I'm on my way out the door to see my first client/family, but they're enjoying time out of town, so I'm grateful for the temporary respite.

Make no mistake, I love my work...mostly.  Because I pour so much of myself into the day job, I am quite depleted by day's end and week's end.  And this past fortnight (I love this English term!), I've been on overdrive about one particular situation, with a few others nipping at me like a high-strung terrier.  Another analogy might be the attention-demanding "Mommy, mommy, MOMMY!" we remember from our kids' preschool ages.

So this mommy (both literal and figurative) is running away from home, at least for a few hours...

Things weren't all bad.  In fact, in keeping with my recent resolution to learn something new everyday, I made some pleasant, unexpected little discoveries within the past 72 hours:

• Keith Richards is a grandpa five times over.  His slim memoir about his own grandfather "Gus" is an absolute delight, illustrated in an elegant simplicity by his daughter Theodora Richards.  The central theme was how the grandfather-grandson relationship was enhanced by the power of music, and led Keith to his first guitar.  I've also now connected to Keith's website, www.keithrichards.com, which features the book.  I also like the edgy design of Keith's page, with its black background.  
• This weekend is going to also be a catch-up time for my magazines.  In the June/July issue of my AARP magazine is a piece by Gen-X author Rich Cohen, "Rock 'n' Roll with Never Die." Who should be featured, among others, but Keith Richards.  When Cohen asked Keith about his "lifestyle," Keith replied matter-of-factly, "I haven't got a lifestyle.  I'm just me.  I do what I do....".  It's great to have our rock idols, but remember how they are, like any of us, human under the skin.
• In another between-clients interval, I picked up a new book at the one of the Arapahoe Public Library's branches, and look forward to both motivation and inspiration between the covers. Written by Bernadette Murphy, it's entitled Harley and Me: Embracing Risk on the Road to a More Authentic Life.  Given my recent fascination with motorcycles and those who ride with a passion, it's as if the book leaped off the shelf into my hands.  With reminders that Sturgis (http://www.sturgismotorcyclerally.com/) is fast approaching, and I'll have to wait till next year to go, I'll hope to find my "motorcycle man" someday soon, along with renewed life energy fueled by adrenaline.  Even off the bike, such experiences certainly would spill over into the rest of my life, imbuing it with heightened creative juices.

It's been a little over three years since my rheumatoid arthritis (RA) diagnosis.  Because I was trying, at that time, to wrap my head around what that was going to mean for me going forward, I blogged about it--a lot, in great deal.  Fast forward to present time, I've got myself a terrific rheumatologist here in Denver, who's taking my symptoms seriously, and I feel hope that my life can proceed without too much impediment.  One of the things I try to do is educate those around me, so that when they meet someone else with RA--and yes, there's lots of us out there, of all ages--they can appreciate the person's efforts to live life to the fullest.  Check out the Arthritis Foundation's site, www.arthritis.org.

Along with my recent nasty arthritis flare, I'm going to be having a brain MRI soon to figure out what to do about this anosmia (loss of sense of smell).  Aside from not being able to detect most common odors in my environment, I'm having just a little bit of a freak-out when the words "brain" and "scan" are used in the same sentence.  What comes to mind is, "OMG, maybe they'll find some horrific tumor or something."  So, till that takes place, I'm trying to be calm and logical, taking the doctor-recommended Beta-Carotene, and doing (don't laugh!) smell-training exercises.  My patient instructions are:  "Eucalyptus, rose, orange peel, coffee, clove, lemon. Smell each smell 20 sec per day 2 times per day."  Wow...so my visits to King Soopers' floral, Starbucks and baking supply sections have taken on a new meaning.  My doctor says that about 30% of anosmiac patients recover this sense, so wish me luck.

I'm not going to be doing any Sunday after-church wandering this weekend.  Besides reading, I have to get back to my writing and social media projects.  My Facebook page is languishing, and I need to resuscitate it and other sites.  Each day that I age, I'm reminded how unproductive the "maybe tomorrow" mindset is.

Stay tuned.  I love you.

Because it's SCARY!

Awhile back, I told you that I have resolved to try to learn something new everyday.  So far, so good...with the daily news (good or bad), efforts to promote my writing, reading more and consuming network television less, going on frequent trips around Colorado, and engaging in friendly conversation wherever I can...it's all adding up.

Now, my next goal is to break out of my comfort zone.  How I plan to do this is to deliberately do things I either have longed to do, or have been to scared to try:

• Rock climbing  --  this past week, I had the chance to go to an indoor facility and watch people of various ages defy gravity, and scale the walls with the toe holds, and then seemingly float to the mat below with their rope.  Suddenly, I was fascinated, and was surprised by my thoughts of I could do this, too!  As I departed, I was astonished to hear myself tell the front-desk staffer, "I'll be back to try this."  He probably didn't believe me, but I want to surprise him.
•  Zip-lining --  I really, really hate heights.  But I love the beautiful views in the areas around the Rockies, awakened with my recent trip to Leadville.  So, I want to face this fear, and get an adrenaline rush.  Maybe I can find a group to go rafting with, too.
• Motorcycle riding --  okay, here's where you're going to think I've totally taken leave of my senses.  For quite a while now, I've thought about finding friends who would introduce me to riding one of those beautiful classic Harleys.  Don't laugh, but my parents would not permit me to learn how to ride a harmless pedal bike (I'll spare you the long story about their over-protection), so I probably would be the passenger in this scenario.  I've googled a website, www.MotorcycleRoads.com, and found a wealth of biking events where I could make some connections.

Eventually, I'll think of other things I'd like to try in 2016.  For now, it's time for sleep and to prepare for my work day tomorrow. 

The Purse

Let me begin by saying this was not the best day I've had in a while, and I'm so wound up right now that it's not going to end soon.

My tale actually started last night and into the wee hours of today, when I was up doing mind-numbing documentation that is necessary for my day job.  But....I do enjoy getting paid for my labor, and I like to have actual evidence that I provided services.  So the "docs" got done.

I hauled myself out of bed after getting perhaps four hours of shut-eye, and first did my Monday morning weigh-in, per my Weight Watchers program.  Up a pound and a half....how did that happen, especially because I've been following the program?  While eating my breakfast and tea, and after I'd logged my status on the Weight Watchers website, I did an online chat with one of their counselors, and was assured it was "normal...that my body is adjusting."  Okay....I'm not exactly sure to what my body is supposed to be "adjusting," but I'll persevere and keep reminding myself that others have done this successfully, so I should just calm down and develop some more patience with myself.

Seeing that I had to get to an early-morning appointment, I trundled out to my car with my wheeled cart loaded up with my briefcase, my laptop, my lunch bag, my purse (shown above), and my trusty psychedelic cane.  I was ready for a workday that would last till 7:30 PM, minus the drive home. While loading up my trunk, I did something I've never done...I slipped my purse off my shoulder and placed it on the pavement!  With the trunk full and hatch door down, I entered my car with my cane and lunch bag, and sped off.

I got to my first destination almost twenty miles to the northeast, and reached over to the passenger seat for my absent bag.  My realization was in the form of  "oh, s***"sheer panic...everything vital to my life, including my identification, Auto Club card, keys and cell phone, had been deserted in my apartment parking lot!  My first appointment resembled a speed-date, and I made a return trip feeling both vulnerable and naked.  This also would definitely not have been the most opportune day to get pulled over by law enforcement.

Fortune was with me.  Some kind person, part of the maintenance staff, had rescued my poor little bag and turned it into the office.  I looked toward Heaven, said a heartfelt thanksgiving prayer, and was relieved that everything that should be inside, indeed was.

As I went about the rest of my day, I pondered my earlier emotional reaction.  My purse, itself, is not a valuable accessory.  In fact, I'm kind of a traitor to my gender; I couldn't care less for "nice" bags or shoes.  This purse, as I recall, is from a Kohl's sale last fall. It's fun, with its leather tassels, and I've gotten compliments on it.  I carry as little cash, and as little personal information, as possible.  I toss my bag carelessly around--into the car, on the counter at day's end, wherever.  I guess you'll never see me toting one of those pricey Chanel clutches, right?

Still, we women have a unique relationship with our purses.  I remember being fascinated with my mother's handbag, and how carefully she kept tabs on it and organized its contents.  Fast-forward to junior high, and girls would express trust in their friends by allowing one or two close pals know what they carried around.  Purses, like our first lipsticks, were symbols of our emergence as young women.  Fast-forward even further into our futures, and most men in our lives knew better than to breach the mysteries of "the purse."  You often hear, "Oh, honey, hand me my purse," like we're Brinks armed guards.  And stories of delinquent youth, stealing from their mothers' purses, inevitably provoke outrage.

Women, especially those with families close by, are the keepers of stuff.  Have you noticed that moms and grandmas, when on family outings, are asked, "Can you hold onto this for me?"  And that's what purses do; help us in our role as the guardians of family stuff.  Men are no fun--so minimalist with their wallets!

And what about the chaos that can ensue when we change purses?   We omit crucial items, and have a hard time adjusting to a new shape and feel.  Kind of like starting a new relationship.  

So, today's beginning gave me a lot to think about.  When I retrieved my purse, the joy and relief was similar to being reunited with a lost companion.  And with its multiple pockets, inside and out, it is a helper, an organizer in what can be whirlwind days.  Having important items close by gives me a sense of security.  At the risk of hyperbole, it truly is a part of me.

July 5th and Beyond--Finding Meaning Behind the Holiday

OK, the fireworks have been shot off and the Parks and Recreation folk will be busy picking up after all the revelry in the public spaces.  In private homes, people will be gathering up bottles and cans, and scraping off the grill.  Ah, the price we pay for fun!

What if every day could be an independence day?

I know that a lot of talk goes on about the history behind the holiday.  For those of us who are history nerds, we like to root around on library sites and try to find out little-known back stories about our founders and the major events of which we were taught in history class.

That's great.  But what does it really mean to be independent?  That's something that I think we should be always considering.  During this current presidential campaign whirlwind, it's good to turn off CNN, step away from the Facebook posts, put down the newspaper--and take a breath or two.  Reflect on what the results will mean for you individually, independently from what others tell you they should.  It is our right, our privilege and our responsibility to take the time to do this.

I'm wondering what Thoreau (one of my heroes) would say about all the rhetoric and predictions, if we could channel his wisdom from Walden.  I'm going find my copy of Walden this week and re-read it.

I don't want this post to be a neatly-wrapped "How to be Independent" presentation  even if that were possible.  Rather, I want to challenge each person--and myself--to reflect on how to be more self-aware, which can lead to our knowing what we need from this world, and what we can bring to it.  And that, my friends, can lead to the noblest form of personal independence.

How to (Re)Build a Future

Recently, I began collecting--and actually wearing--teeshirts like this, for the first time in almost forty years.  Aside from being intrigued by sayings that resonate with me, I found that displaying my affirmations openly is another way to push myself forward.  If people see me walking around like this, I feel responsible for actually living up to the words.  The last thing I want to feel--or be perceived of as--being full of crap.

Same goes for the necklace above.  I wore it for awhile while still in California, and then, when life got "too crazy" from 2012-2015, I put it away.  Now that I think about it, wearing it and invoking the message inscribed on it during that "crazy" time, would have made a lot of sense.  I could have derived a lot of comfort, and been more able to stand my ground when I was receiving lots of well-meaning but contradictory (and in some cases, harmful) advice.  I would have believed that I was, in the end, going to be okay.

While getting ready for my day this morning, I came across the necklace. Suddenly, the words spoke to me, and I put it on. And it's now going to be part of me, like the pewter cross my courageous grandmother left me.  

Takeaway:  items we wear can inspire us, and our inspiration can be reflected in our outward presentation to others.  I was at my doctor's office the other day, and she (very young and young-looking herself) kept repeating "how great" I was looking since my visit in May of 2015.  Besides getting my severe arthritis pain somewhat under control, I mentioned to her that I was now re-committed to Weight Watchers, and already feeling some difference.  By the way, to date, I'm down ten pounds, but I feel there's been more of a loss since this past Monday.  Less weight = less knee pain = more ability to go on walks and weekend outings.  One more way I feel confidence on the upswing.

Besides my day job as a therapist, and squeezing in the writing into precious blocks of time, I'm now trying to master social media and make it work for me.  When I had a private practice years ago, how naive I was!  Somehow, I thought posting in all the web's nooks and crannies was all anyone needed to do.  It was (I thought), the digital equivalent to writing ads on 3-by-5 cards,  running around town, tacking them on whatever community bulletin boards I could--and then praying for responses.  Now I see that the internet is the closest thing possible to a living organism, with all kinds of systems that need continuous tending to.  No wonder big corporate social media are departments all onto themselves.

Well, this fledging "corporation" (me), has to navigate social media on a DIY basis--so far it's on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and Instagram, and ello.co.  It's a work in progress, so please be patient with my neophyte efforts.  Catch you out there!

Brain Food

OK, first, another pound gone buh-bye.  When I got on the scale yesterday (I've designated Monday as my weekly weigh-in day), I was a little disappointed it wasn't more.  Then I realized that, as long as the number keeps decreasing, and I start actually feeling better, then I resolve to look at this weight-loss effort as a process, not some race.  And so it is -- my waistbands are not pinching now, and every pound gone is one I'm not lugging around anymore.

Anyway, my writing!  What can I say except that the creative pipeline is clogged somewhat.   I wouldn't call it a "block," because lots of ideas are swirling around in my brain, but I would say the energy is running low.  Usually, once I start clicking away at my laptop, the blog or article usually "writes itself."  So, I've taken some time off as a reset, and here are some of the random things I'm indulging in just to get the juices flowing again:

• Sunday getaways -- Last Sunday, I went to early Mass and then hit C-470 up to Golden.  My destination--Lookout Mountain, and the Buffalo Bill burial site and museum.  My timing was a little off; the whole region was beginning a heat spell, and by the time I headed home in the late afternoon, my car thermostat was registering 106.  I came prepared with sunscreen and water, though, and chalked up trudging up the steep hill to pay my respects to Mr. Cody as good exercise.  At the end of the day, the visit entitled me to log lots of Fit Points in my Weight Watchers app.  It also happened to be Father's Day, and I like the way Johnny Baker, Cody's "foster son" and longtime friend, was honored near the entrance of the museum, including for his role in getting this museum founded.  I wholeheartedly recommend this site to anyone, especially for those who are fellow history enthusiasts

          I've already mentioned my Leadville trip in the previous entry.  Next stop--Steamboat Springs.  I've checked out the Facebook page they have up dedicated to weekend rodeos, and so, I'm going, ASAP.  The point to all these trips is to finally, after a year of settling into Littleton, explore the places I have listed on my refrigerator.  Colorado is such a treasure-trove of history!  And the drives through the countryside plant wonderful, refreshing images in my brain.  Inspiration comes in so many forms, subtle and obvious.  I just want to open the sensory gates, and let it all in.

• NPR --  Part of the benefits of Colorado Public Radio is having access to quality programming, especially in this particularly divisive campaign year.  Besides being made aware of national and global issues, like the Venezuela crisis, there are also opportunities for exposure to arts that are not aired on regular networks.  I recommend that everyone go on YouTube and watch/listen to Yo-Yo Ma's Silk Road Ensemble--almost like musical diplomacy.  Also on CPR, I find Open Air's "new music" to be a welcome switch from mainstream pop stations.  As much as I've loved classical music for years, I'm finding that staying relevant to the upcoming generations is so important, especially through their music.
• Line dancing -- After nearly a year, when I stopped dancing to give my knee a rest, I'm ready to get back out there again.  Besides the fun exercise, I feel a need to socialize again on Saturday nights.
• Self-care -- there's nothing like the jacuzzi after work, these trips and partying to soothe the muscles and get a good night's sleep.  And, since sleep is an important restorative function, it can also benefit my creative functioning.

So, let the summer begin, and let's all enjoy!

Six Pounds Gone

Following up on my June 6 post, I'm down 6 pounds....a good start.  I do feel an ever-so-slight difference in my jeans, especially the waist band.  And so, victory begins.

In addition to being mindful of the Smart Points, I'm also logging as many Fit Points as I can, considering my schedule and my daily pain level with my arthritis.  I figure that a plan of as much walking as I can manage, followed by a cup of soothing herbal tea in the evening and a lovely warm bath or soak in my complex's jacuzzi to soothe the joints...that's the way to really treat myself.

Last Saturday night, I got really brave and went to a local dance studio, where I faced a big fear -- that of (gasp!) ballroom dancing.  Born to a generation that just got out on a dance floor and did a solo "whatever," learning the two-step and some confusing variations--that was an exercise in bravery!  Our teacher is a very sweet and patient lady, and she gave those of us (including me) who were struggling with the coordination of feet and steps, lots of kudos and told us to be patient with ourselves.

This Saturday, I'm going to try it again--this time to a salsa beat.  Our teacher assured us that this style will be simpler.  Certainly it will be more up-tempo, and more calories will get expended.  If only I could find a regular dance partner, not only to accompany me to this studio, but to practice with during the week so I can get really good,,,also someone who is aware I have issues with relaxing and following a lead.   Anyway, I want to just have a bit of fun, and not take this activity so seriously.   I even posted about this on my Yelp page.

Utilizing my love of travel and history, I got up even earlier than usual last Sunday, and drove up to Leadville.  It's one of the towns that has been on my radar since moving here last year, since it was an integral part of Colorado's formation into statehood.  I began by attending Mass at the landmark Annunciation Church, which has its own history, including being where Margaret (the "unsinkable Molly") Brown was married. This is where I really got a walking workout, especially along Harrison Avenue, taking in the Tabor Opera House tour, ducking down a few side streets to look at the Tabor House Museum, the "House of the Eye," and a sweet little antique shop named Sweet Betsy's From Pike.  And then (with the aid of my Weight Watchers app!), I enjoyed a sesame chicken sandwich, paired nicely with a Killian's Red at the Historic Silver Dollar Saloon (again, reviewed on my Yelp page).  Before heading home, I spent the last two hours at the National Mining Hall of Fame and Museum.  If only I had been here in the days when Son and I were taking regular tours of museums.  It's such an educational and inspiring place!  Front and center, right at the entrance, is a display of Rhodochrosite, the beautiful Colorado state mineral.

By the time I was finished with this part of my day, the Mining Museum was ready to close, and my knee was beginning to say, "I'm done for now."  So, I headed back home, and felt that it had been a great day on many levels.