I am pretty sure that everyone has some baggage that they take with them every time they travel anywhere, be it low self-esteem, guilt, financial worry, the job, children, no children, lost loves, disease, disappointments, or broken promises. It may be heavy stuff, but its packed up and taken anyway.
Me too. I will pack my divorce, my regrets, and my fears and take them on the road with me. I hope the load will lighten along the way as I discover I don't really need to carry them everywhere I go.
But as the time nears to empty the refrigerator, turn off the hot water heater and lock my front door for 3 months, I feel a little bit like I may have lost my footing at the top of a hill and I am sliding down the other side on my butt yelling woohoo! There is nothing to grap onto to slow me down. At the bottom of the hill, I imagine, is a road.
This is a journey that is being taken a little bit on a whim. Even though I have been thinking about it for a few months now, I have not gone into much detail about the roads to be traveled. I think too much planning would spoil it. I don't want to over think the whole thing. I want to figure it out and find my way as I go, much as I live my life. I don't want to be disappointed if I find myself someplace I didn't expect to be. I want to be able to just enjoy where I am, in my life as well as on the road.
We had a tour of homes last Saturday here in my town. We had ten wildly different homes on the tour, from a big fancy waterfront to a tiny hidden cottage. My Wabi Sabi (studio/gallery/office/home) served as a hospitality stop complete with a tour of my "private" loft quarters, cookies and a public restroom. I have been ambivalent about my living arrangements with my living room in a lobby and my bedroom in an office. But the people passing through seemed to think it was clever, cozy, and fun, all that one needs to be content. They even liked my "make do" kitchen. (teenie tiny refridge, microwave, hot plate, toaster oven). Most people have little intention of doing much cooking these days, anyway, which explains why the restaurants are so crowded in spite of tight economic times.
As people gave me compliments, I tried to look at my home through their eyes and I felt better about the place. I guess it is kind of funky and cute. And besides, it has a view of the Gulf. And plenty of parking! And the commercial carpeting really can withstand a lot of wear and tear.
So now I don't have to pack up my ambivalence about my home and take it with me. I will leave it in a box under the bed and take instead compliments. Better traveling companions, don't you think.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Indian Rocks Beach, My Town
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Before I leave here for somewhere else, let me tell you about Indian Rocks Beach. I love this town. It is made up of 5000 different personalities, most of who think living here is the way life should be. The community is a congregate of outstanding people. Swell neighbors. We are 29 city blocks long.
We are a beach town, casual, funky, eclectic, and relaxed.
People here are involved. They take action. They volunteer. They party. I like that. I like the Beauty and The Beach Art Show, The Biggest Beach Party Ever, the Christmas Tree Lighting and the Lighted Boat Parade, the monthly Homeowner’s Happy Hours, The Valentine’s Day Dance, The Historic Tour of Homes, Octoberfest, the dog walkers, the joggers, and the small businesses. Last month 150 of us or so gathered on the beach at sundown to watch Jaws on a big screen. Only in IRB!
We have a nature park, an art center, a historical museum, a skateboard park, boat ramp, tennis courts, basketball courts, three playgrounds, and lots of restaurants. The beach is beautiful. Our weather is moderate and if you can handle the stress of hurricanes that never hit, this is a darn good place to live.
I may sound a little like the local Chamber of Commerce, but really, no one pays me to say this.
People say hi when you pass them walking down the beach or on the sidewalk. They rally around needs. They invite strangers to be friends. They trust each other.
Of course, it is not all perfect. There are codes, permits, and fees that drive residents nuts. Parking can be a problem. There are a few cranky curmudgeons, some disgruntled and some who are disenchanted who regularly complain about one thing or another. Taxes are high and rents are low. (I’m a landlord and this is a bad thing.) In March we double our population with tourists. And although my heart is in IRB, unfortunately, so is my ex! Next door, if you can imagine! This probably explains my urgency to leave, if only temporarily.
But, I will travel knowing that this is the place that I will come back to. And I like that, too.
And perhaps I will then find my place as a single woman where I once was a wife.
We are a beach town, casual, funky, eclectic, and relaxed.
People here are involved. They take action. They volunteer. They party. I like that. I like the Beauty and The Beach Art Show, The Biggest Beach Party Ever, the Christmas Tree Lighting and the Lighted Boat Parade, the monthly Homeowner’s Happy Hours, The Valentine’s Day Dance, The Historic Tour of Homes, Octoberfest, the dog walkers, the joggers, and the small businesses. Last month 150 of us or so gathered on the beach at sundown to watch Jaws on a big screen. Only in IRB!
We have a nature park, an art center, a historical museum, a skateboard park, boat ramp, tennis courts, basketball courts, three playgrounds, and lots of restaurants. The beach is beautiful. Our weather is moderate and if you can handle the stress of hurricanes that never hit, this is a darn good place to live.
I may sound a little like the local Chamber of Commerce, but really, no one pays me to say this.
People say hi when you pass them walking down the beach or on the sidewalk. They rally around needs. They invite strangers to be friends. They trust each other.
Of course, it is not all perfect. There are codes, permits, and fees that drive residents nuts. Parking can be a problem. There are a few cranky curmudgeons, some disgruntled and some who are disenchanted who regularly complain about one thing or another. Taxes are high and rents are low. (I’m a landlord and this is a bad thing.) In March we double our population with tourists. And although my heart is in IRB, unfortunately, so is my ex! Next door, if you can imagine! This probably explains my urgency to leave, if only temporarily.
But, I will travel knowing that this is the place that I will come back to. And I like that, too.
And perhaps I will then find my place as a single woman where I once was a wife.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Aripeka, Florida
I spent last Thursday in Aripeka with a friend. Aripeka is a very small community about 1 ½ hours north of Indian Rocks Beach where time has not managed to change much of anything in the last 70 or more years. There is Norfleet’s store and a post office, an overgrown, defunct, rustic fish camp where Babe Ruth is purported to have visited, grass flats, cabbage palms, fisherman, and a rare excellent breed of Florida natives who regularly gather along the sides of the bridge that spans a watery outlet leading to the Gulf and share a certain camaraderie that isn't seen much today in newer subdivisions. 
I have inherited 1/7 of a 1.6 acre homestead on the Gulf of Mexico that belonged to my Uncle who died a couple of years ago. We seven love the little place, its’ history and its’ remoteness, but we do not have the desire to live there, requiring, I suppose, closer proximity to modern amenities and modern entertainment.
Aripeka is the sort of place that a tourist could drive through and not know they had been there. There are homes tucked away on little side streets that are not seen from Osowaw Boulevard, the main and only street that runs though Aripeka, no traffic lights, no stop signs.
In recent years, a couple of large homes have been built which don’t seem to belong. I can only imagine that the owners have little appreciation of Aripeka, itself, but instead relish in their location overlooking the Gulf. Aripeka is a Wabi Sabi sort of place. To appreciate it, one must be able to appreciate authenticity, the rustic, the old, weathered wood, chipping paint, tattered clothes, nesting cormorants, red sunsets, changing tides, simple pleasures and modest beauty that waits to be discovered.
Donna and I walked along the crumbling seawall and blossoming orange trees that lined the western edge of Uncle Sy's property. We imagined what was and what could be. For the moment, we were grateful to be in such a place.
Afterward we went to Hudson Beach and had lunch sitting at a sunny table overlooking the clear Gulf waters while sipping beer and eating fried fish. We drove home slowly, because once you turn off Osowaw Boulevard onto US 19, the route doesn’t allow for more than a view of heavy traffic that paces itself at every stoplight. At about 4:00 PM we pulled off Alternate 19 at a vintage wayside stand in Palm Harbor, which has been operating since 1952, and where they serve chocolate vanilla twist soft ice cream in sugar cones. Back in Ohio, growing up, Donna and I would have called it a frozen custard stand. Kind of like a Dairy Queen, only more Wabi Sabi.
Just I and my friend, we Thursday spent till the end of the day.
I have inherited 1/7 of a 1.6 acre homestead on the Gulf of Mexico that belonged to my Uncle who died a couple of years ago. We seven love the little place, its’ history and its’ remoteness, but we do not have the desire to live there, requiring, I suppose, closer proximity to modern amenities and modern entertainment.
Aripeka is the sort of place that a tourist could drive through and not know they had been there. There are homes tucked away on little side streets that are not seen from Osowaw Boulevard, the main and only street that runs though Aripeka, no traffic lights, no stop signs.
In recent years, a couple of large homes have been built which don’t seem to belong. I can only imagine that the owners have little appreciation of Aripeka, itself, but instead relish in their location overlooking the Gulf. Aripeka is a Wabi Sabi sort of place. To appreciate it, one must be able to appreciate authenticity, the rustic, the old, weathered wood, chipping paint, tattered clothes, nesting cormorants, red sunsets, changing tides, simple pleasures and modest beauty that waits to be discovered.
Donna and I walked along the crumbling seawall and blossoming orange trees that lined the western edge of Uncle Sy's property. We imagined what was and what could be. For the moment, we were grateful to be in such a place.
Afterward we went to Hudson Beach and had lunch sitting at a sunny table overlooking the clear Gulf waters while sipping beer and eating fried fish. We drove home slowly, because once you turn off Osowaw Boulevard onto US 19, the route doesn’t allow for more than a view of heavy traffic that paces itself at every stoplight. At about 4:00 PM we pulled off Alternate 19 at a vintage wayside stand in Palm Harbor, which has been operating since 1952, and where they serve chocolate vanilla twist soft ice cream in sugar cones. Back in Ohio, growing up, Donna and I would have called it a frozen custard stand. Kind of like a Dairy Queen, only more Wabi Sabi.
Just I and my friend, we Thursday spent till the end of the day.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Travel Budget
In case anyone was wondering….
I have not made a detailed budget for my road trip. My life’s experience with budgets has been that once I put the numbers down on paper it looks like there is never enough money on hand, nor income, to cover anticipated expenses. So I am afraid that if I were to make a detailed travel budget, I’d get nervous and anxious and resort to Sausage McMuffins for breakfast and Big Macs for dinner while spending every night at the Econolodge or local campground. (I am sure some of my girlfriends are nodding their heads as they read this, saying to themselves, how true this is.) I am by nature reasonably frugal, and I have never actually run out of money. But, I find budgets scary and unnecessary.
Besides, I want to take chances, travel on a wing and a prayer, set out for adventure while I have the eyes, ears, and legs for it, although, possibly, not the money. I am sure I’ll manage.
I did buy a little tent at Walmart, and a sleeping pad. More for fun than economy, however. Our family used to camp a lot. I have never done it by myself, but I think it could be a pleasant experience. Campgrounds are a good way to meet people and most campers are quite friendly. And really, campgrounds seem like a pretty safe place. If a bear, be it in animal or human form, were to growl beside my tent in the dead of night, surely my screams would awaken the other campers in their thin nylon tents nearby, all of whom would immediately exit their tents, flashlights in hand, to see what was going on. (Mental note to myself; pack a flashlight.)
And anyway, I have three credit cards. I won’t starve or sleep in the backseat at a truckstop until I have spent (or charged), I think, it’s about $21,000, and with a simple call to raise the limit, who knows what the possibilities are. Payback could be hell, but then, what the hell! (I'm joking, I am pretty sure that I have squirreled away enough to manage without resorting to high debt….I hope! ACKKkkkk!)
Right now I would like to believe that it is our time, not our money, that we should spend wisely.
I have not made a detailed budget for my road trip. My life’s experience with budgets has been that once I put the numbers down on paper it looks like there is never enough money on hand, nor income, to cover anticipated expenses. So I am afraid that if I were to make a detailed travel budget, I’d get nervous and anxious and resort to Sausage McMuffins for breakfast and Big Macs for dinner while spending every night at the Econolodge or local campground. (I am sure some of my girlfriends are nodding their heads as they read this, saying to themselves, how true this is.) I am by nature reasonably frugal, and I have never actually run out of money. But, I find budgets scary and unnecessary.
Besides, I want to take chances, travel on a wing and a prayer, set out for adventure while I have the eyes, ears, and legs for it, although, possibly, not the money. I am sure I’ll manage.
I did buy a little tent at Walmart, and a sleeping pad. More for fun than economy, however. Our family used to camp a lot. I have never done it by myself, but I think it could be a pleasant experience. Campgrounds are a good way to meet people and most campers are quite friendly. And really, campgrounds seem like a pretty safe place. If a bear, be it in animal or human form, were to growl beside my tent in the dead of night, surely my screams would awaken the other campers in their thin nylon tents nearby, all of whom would immediately exit their tents, flashlights in hand, to see what was going on. (Mental note to myself; pack a flashlight.)
And anyway, I have three credit cards. I won’t starve or sleep in the backseat at a truckstop until I have spent (or charged), I think, it’s about $21,000, and with a simple call to raise the limit, who knows what the possibilities are. Payback could be hell, but then, what the hell! (I'm joking, I am pretty sure that I have squirreled away enough to manage without resorting to high debt….I hope! ACKKkkkk!)
Right now I would like to believe that it is our time, not our money, that we should spend wisely.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
There's good news and there's bad news
The news today: “Woman killed when gas pump explodes.” That’s something I didn’t need to know before embarking on a long road trip where I will be pumping a lot of gas. The daily news can be scary.
Being informed is good, but being inundated with bad news isn’t. Do you remember the kind of jokes that start out with “there’s good news and there’s bad news?”
I sort of wish the media could do that. The bad news is that the economy took another turn for the worst. The good news is there is plan in place to end the war in Iraq. The bad news is that cancer is on the rise. The good news is they found a cure for Alzheimer's.
My last post was pretty much the bad news without the good. Yuck! You can listen to CNN or CBS and get all the bad news you can handle, or read the newspaper. Somebody killed somebody, somebody embezzled a trillion dollars, taxes are going up, unemployment is going up, and, whoa, enough!
My intention was to bring a smile when you read what I write, maybe inspire you to take a risk, undertake more than you think you can possibly do, otherwise you may never do all that you can. The bad news is I didn’t do that. I brought you the bad news. But the good news is I am feeling better today and it is a bright sunny day in Indian Rocks Beach, well, that's good news for me anyway!
I am here in my welcome center home, sitting at my computer and thinking…. I have not been just waiting around for my ship to come in because I think it has been anchored off shore for a while now. But, I am thinking that I will soon throw off the bowlines, sail away from this safe harbor, catch a tailwind, explore, discover, and float. Can I float in my Honda? On pavement? I think so. I’m going to try anyway. I am looking forward to a change of scenery and leaving my materialistic habits behind that distract me from true bliss. (The bad news, my sneaky materialistic thinking can ambush me unexpectedly bringing forth thoughts of all I left behind when I got divorced, my grandmother’s sewing bench, the place mats that my cousin gave me, and the dresser I so carefully refinished and painted. It may be just stuff, but I miss it.
A few years back, there was a hurricane headed straight for our town, or so the TV weatherman said. We would evacuate, of course, leave our little barrier island for high ground on the other side of the bridge. I remember taking a last look around our home, trying to decide what I should take before the storm actually managed to wash away the house and all its contents. What was there that I couldn't live without? What should I pack into the car and take with us? I looked around again and decided that there was really nothing I couldn't live without. I'd just have to risk it. Yes, I loved my things and I would miss them, but I could live just as well without.
So I took a bottle of wine and a photo album, locked the door, and we headed for safety. The storm hit 3 hours south of Indian Rocks Beach. We barely got a breeze. Everything in my life stayed in tack. But a personal storm of epic proportions hit last year, unexpectedly, leaving me homeless and with few of my things. I guess, now that I think about it, I can live just as well without.
But I digress. (The bad news)
(The good news) I have a home with enough to sustain me, but now I want to know what I am really capable of. Take a different sort of risk and spend three months on the mainland, on my own, with no more than I can fit in my Honda. Actually, travel has never scared me. Staying home and not going anywhere scares me. My mother endowed me with a love of travel. For her, traveling wasn’t just entertainment or a leisure activity, it was an accomplishment.
So I am anxious to see what I can accomplish.
Being informed is good, but being inundated with bad news isn’t. Do you remember the kind of jokes that start out with “there’s good news and there’s bad news?”
I sort of wish the media could do that. The bad news is that the economy took another turn for the worst. The good news is there is plan in place to end the war in Iraq. The bad news is that cancer is on the rise. The good news is they found a cure for Alzheimer's.
My last post was pretty much the bad news without the good. Yuck! You can listen to CNN or CBS and get all the bad news you can handle, or read the newspaper. Somebody killed somebody, somebody embezzled a trillion dollars, taxes are going up, unemployment is going up, and, whoa, enough!
My intention was to bring a smile when you read what I write, maybe inspire you to take a risk, undertake more than you think you can possibly do, otherwise you may never do all that you can. The bad news is I didn’t do that. I brought you the bad news. But the good news is I am feeling better today and it is a bright sunny day in Indian Rocks Beach, well, that's good news for me anyway!
I am here in my welcome center home, sitting at my computer and thinking…. I have not been just waiting around for my ship to come in because I think it has been anchored off shore for a while now. But, I am thinking that I will soon throw off the bowlines, sail away from this safe harbor, catch a tailwind, explore, discover, and float. Can I float in my Honda? On pavement? I think so. I’m going to try anyway. I am looking forward to a change of scenery and leaving my materialistic habits behind that distract me from true bliss. (The bad news, my sneaky materialistic thinking can ambush me unexpectedly bringing forth thoughts of all I left behind when I got divorced, my grandmother’s sewing bench, the place mats that my cousin gave me, and the dresser I so carefully refinished and painted. It may be just stuff, but I miss it.
A few years back, there was a hurricane headed straight for our town, or so the TV weatherman said. We would evacuate, of course, leave our little barrier island for high ground on the other side of the bridge. I remember taking a last look around our home, trying to decide what I should take before the storm actually managed to wash away the house and all its contents. What was there that I couldn't live without? What should I pack into the car and take with us? I looked around again and decided that there was really nothing I couldn't live without. I'd just have to risk it. Yes, I loved my things and I would miss them, but I could live just as well without.
So I took a bottle of wine and a photo album, locked the door, and we headed for safety. The storm hit 3 hours south of Indian Rocks Beach. We barely got a breeze. Everything in my life stayed in tack. But a personal storm of epic proportions hit last year, unexpectedly, leaving me homeless and with few of my things. I guess, now that I think about it, I can live just as well without.
But I digress. (The bad news)
(The good news) I have a home with enough to sustain me, but now I want to know what I am really capable of. Take a different sort of risk and spend three months on the mainland, on my own, with no more than I can fit in my Honda. Actually, travel has never scared me. Staying home and not going anywhere scares me. My mother endowed me with a love of travel. For her, traveling wasn’t just entertainment or a leisure activity, it was an accomplishment.
So I am anxious to see what I can accomplish.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
A Bad Day
I really don't want to complain, but being that we are such good friends, I think I can tell you...
Today is a bad day. On a bad day, I think about what could have been. I'm talking about the divorce again. It is still there, every other thought away. I hate that. We have to live with our choices, but whether I choose to stay in the marriage or choose to leave, tears were sure to follow.
I tell myself that I am strong and free to be me and learning to get along just fine. And I believe that. But today, I feel bad. It comes over me like a tidal wave sometimes. For no real reason. Nothing I can put my finger on. But I just feel sad.
I suppose it wouldn't be fair to complain about my ex, tell you all the gruesome details, my side of the story, or why I left. I'd like to, but not in such a public forum. Maybe one on one and then you can spread the gossip. Sometimes, I just want to share my pitiful feelings and all I want from you is that you listen. There is nothing to be done.
And I usually don't want to blog when I feel sad because I don't want to make you feel sad, but I thought, maybe it is OK that you know this time, because maybe you feel bad on occasion and you can share your feelings with me, knowing that I will understand and because I hope that by telling you, letting you know, it will help me deal with it and get happier. I think it will. I think perhaps, it already has, at least a little. Thank-you.
PS I am so incredibly lucky to have you in my life. You lift my spirit.
Today is a bad day. On a bad day, I think about what could have been. I'm talking about the divorce again. It is still there, every other thought away. I hate that. We have to live with our choices, but whether I choose to stay in the marriage or choose to leave, tears were sure to follow.
I tell myself that I am strong and free to be me and learning to get along just fine. And I believe that. But today, I feel bad. It comes over me like a tidal wave sometimes. For no real reason. Nothing I can put my finger on. But I just feel sad.
I suppose it wouldn't be fair to complain about my ex, tell you all the gruesome details, my side of the story, or why I left. I'd like to, but not in such a public forum. Maybe one on one and then you can spread the gossip. Sometimes, I just want to share my pitiful feelings and all I want from you is that you listen. There is nothing to be done.
And I usually don't want to blog when I feel sad because I don't want to make you feel sad, but I thought, maybe it is OK that you know this time, because maybe you feel bad on occasion and you can share your feelings with me, knowing that I will understand and because I hope that by telling you, letting you know, it will help me deal with it and get happier. I think it will. I think perhaps, it already has, at least a little. Thank-you.
PS I am so incredibly lucky to have you in my life. You lift my spirit.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
To do: Find a Balance
When I was younger I used to think that when I got older, say like, about, 62, that life would be pretty simple. No more 9 to 5, no more kids around, few needs yet to be filled, and lots of time to kick back and read, take walks, and sit around the coffee table talking to friends.
That's what I thought. Now I find out it taint that way at all.
First of all, the kids never really leave our thoughts, their lives are forever intertwined with ours, their problems and their successes. Secondly, somewhere along the line we may be responsible for our parent's lives, their problems and needs. Thirdly, we may be dealing with health issues we never thought much about before, some of those really huge. Fourth, we have to manage our money closer to manage our retirement, not to mention plan what that retirement will look like. Fifth, we need to find ways to keep up with a fast paced technological world that requires our attention, be it learning to manage three remotes to turn on the TV or banking online. Sixth, well, "you, over 62, yes you, fill in the plank, _____________________ but don't scare the youngsters." Life does not let us relax, even when we "retire."
All right, if I think about it some more. Some people do seem to go on cruises, cruise in RVs and cruise along just shopping, playing golf, and/or watching TV and eating out. They seem to have less to do. Or perhaps they simple do less. I don't know if I can make that work for me. It does look inviting from my window, though. 'Course, here I am blogging, planning a trip, running a studio, and learning how to fly (not literally) and I don't know how to stop complicating my life.
I guess I just don't sit still well. At least, not without a good book in my lap.
I have a friend who wants to retire, close down her business, move to a little house in the country far from everyone and everything, plant a garden, read, and sleep late every morning. When I picture that in my mind, it looks good for a month or so, then I see boredom setting in. That's not quite enough. The trick, I'm beginning to think, is to find that place between too much and not enough.
Seventh, I'll be workng on that.
That's what I thought. Now I find out it taint that way at all.
First of all, the kids never really leave our thoughts, their lives are forever intertwined with ours, their problems and their successes. Secondly, somewhere along the line we may be responsible for our parent's lives, their problems and needs. Thirdly, we may be dealing with health issues we never thought much about before, some of those really huge. Fourth, we have to manage our money closer to manage our retirement, not to mention plan what that retirement will look like. Fifth, we need to find ways to keep up with a fast paced technological world that requires our attention, be it learning to manage three remotes to turn on the TV or banking online. Sixth, well, "you, over 62, yes you, fill in the plank, _____________________ but don't scare the youngsters." Life does not let us relax, even when we "retire."
All right, if I think about it some more. Some people do seem to go on cruises, cruise in RVs and cruise along just shopping, playing golf, and/or watching TV and eating out. They seem to have less to do. Or perhaps they simple do less. I don't know if I can make that work for me. It does look inviting from my window, though. 'Course, here I am blogging, planning a trip, running a studio, and learning how to fly (not literally) and I don't know how to stop complicating my life.
I guess I just don't sit still well. At least, not without a good book in my lap.
I have a friend who wants to retire, close down her business, move to a little house in the country far from everyone and everything, plant a garden, read, and sleep late every morning. When I picture that in my mind, it looks good for a month or so, then I see boredom setting in. That's not quite enough. The trick, I'm beginning to think, is to find that place between too much and not enough.
Seventh, I'll be workng on that.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I am officially 62
Today is my birthday.
Today I am 62. So it's official, when I start my journey I will be taking my 62 years on the road.
So right now, I am feeling perhaps, self indulgent and admit, that the pursuit of pleasure is one of my high priorities. This year I will be standing alone, taking action, starting fresh, and expressing independence. At least that's what it said in my horoscope. I don't usually read my horoscope, but today was different, it seemed like the thing to do.
It also said that I need to be patient and receptive, that I wouldn't be satisfied to conform, to expect sudden twists in life that force doing something different, that adjusting plans is in order, that setbacks are temporary and lead to more creative solutions and that I should act on intuition and gut feeling. There was a lot more to the horoscope, but I decided to choose the parts I liked and ignore the parts I didn't like, well, for instance this statement, "ambivalence may hinder and color interactions." I didn't like that prediction.
And now I am old enough for social security. Wow! It seems time flies whether you're having fun or not. Have I mentioned that I wonder why they call it SOCIAL security? You get a little check and so you have a little money and what has that got to do with "social" security, it doesn't even provide financial security. It doesn't insure you a place in society or help you make friends or really, do much of anything to make a person feel secure in any way. But I guess it is better than nothing at all. Just the same, I am 62 and I am taking all I can get.
I blew out candles on my chocolate birthday cake last night right after dinner with my usual Friday night dinner companions. I made a wish. I think birthday wishes carry a little more weight in the universe, so I didn't want to miss the opportunity.
It's my day. I ate cake for breakfast. I listened to happy birthday songs on YouTube. I put on a happy face and my dancing shoes. I am expecting something wonderful to happen! It's anything can happen day. I want to enjoy each moment.
And if I can do it for a day, why not for an entire year?
Let's get this show on the road!
Today I am 62. So it's official, when I start my journey I will be taking my 62 years on the road.
So right now, I am feeling perhaps, self indulgent and admit, that the pursuit of pleasure is one of my high priorities. This year I will be standing alone, taking action, starting fresh, and expressing independence. At least that's what it said in my horoscope. I don't usually read my horoscope, but today was different, it seemed like the thing to do.
It also said that I need to be patient and receptive, that I wouldn't be satisfied to conform, to expect sudden twists in life that force doing something different, that adjusting plans is in order, that setbacks are temporary and lead to more creative solutions and that I should act on intuition and gut feeling. There was a lot more to the horoscope, but I decided to choose the parts I liked and ignore the parts I didn't like, well, for instance this statement, "ambivalence may hinder and color interactions." I didn't like that prediction.
And now I am old enough for social security. Wow! It seems time flies whether you're having fun or not. Have I mentioned that I wonder why they call it SOCIAL security? You get a little check and so you have a little money and what has that got to do with "social" security, it doesn't even provide financial security. It doesn't insure you a place in society or help you make friends or really, do much of anything to make a person feel secure in any way. But I guess it is better than nothing at all. Just the same, I am 62 and I am taking all I can get.
I blew out candles on my chocolate birthday cake last night right after dinner with my usual Friday night dinner companions. I made a wish. I think birthday wishes carry a little more weight in the universe, so I didn't want to miss the opportunity.
It's my day. I ate cake for breakfast. I listened to happy birthday songs on YouTube. I put on a happy face and my dancing shoes. I am expecting something wonderful to happen! It's anything can happen day. I want to enjoy each moment.
And if I can do it for a day, why not for an entire year?
Let's get this show on the road!
Friday, March 13, 2009
I never really liked to drive
I remember quite well the first time "Daddy let me drive." Actually, he insisted I drive. I had no choice but to get behind the wheel the day I turned 15 and drive home after passing the test to get my learner's permit. I didn't want to drive. I'd never driven before and I was afraid. I wanted to learn in a parking lot or something, but Daddy said, "you either drive home now or forget about driving altogether." I guess he was having a bad day.
So, with tears in my eyes, I got behind the wheel and ever so cautiously began to drive home. Dad was pretty laid back about it, offering only a few instructions, just letting me figure it out. I was a nervous wreck. (It seems to me that it is usually the other way around, spunky overly confident kid, nervous Dad.)
I had been driving all of ten minutes or so, carefully observing all rules and speed limits and staying ever so cautiously in my lane and then, on a small country road with little traffic and one horse, suddenly there was a car and horse encounter, a lot of horse noise and rearing and a lot of young girl screaming. Through the tears, "I told you, Daddy, that I didn't know how to drive. I told you I didn't want to. You made me." Daddy quietly drove the rest of the way home. Neither horse nor human was really hurt, but the dent and the trauma lasted a long time. I wonder if that experience was the reason I never really liked to drive.
So , I am going on a long road trip, all by myself. Three months. Interstates. Country roads. City traffic. And I'm not even nervous.
Psychologically this must mean something. But what?
So, with tears in my eyes, I got behind the wheel and ever so cautiously began to drive home. Dad was pretty laid back about it, offering only a few instructions, just letting me figure it out. I was a nervous wreck. (It seems to me that it is usually the other way around, spunky overly confident kid, nervous Dad.)
I had been driving all of ten minutes or so, carefully observing all rules and speed limits and staying ever so cautiously in my lane and then, on a small country road with little traffic and one horse, suddenly there was a car and horse encounter, a lot of horse noise and rearing and a lot of young girl screaming. Through the tears, "I told you, Daddy, that I didn't know how to drive. I told you I didn't want to. You made me." Daddy quietly drove the rest of the way home. Neither horse nor human was really hurt, but the dent and the trauma lasted a long time. I wonder if that experience was the reason I never really liked to drive.
So , I am going on a long road trip, all by myself. Three months. Interstates. Country roads. City traffic. And I'm not even nervous.
Psychologically this must mean something. But what?
Monday, March 9, 2009
There's a real world out there
Have you noticed how people are spending a lot of their time in front of a screen, TVs, computers, ipods, cell phones, watching staged events while removed from the actual world and tuning out real people? Much of our leisure time is spent isolated from everyone and everything real.
And then people spend a great deal of the rest of their time completing private tasks of obligation and responsibility, be it a job, or housework, or studies, or even hobbies that are solitary such as reading or art.
Are we losing touch with real people? Does a travel documentary count as seeing other places? Is blogging and facebook a good substitute for actual human conversation?
Or can we, if we think about it, plan for it, pickup a little momentum to propel us forward into making contact in the physical world instead of the cyber world, into studying the lay of the land outside our front door, and beyond. You can't see my face right now, but I am smiling and pumping my fist as if to say, "Yes, let go for it.". Wouldn't it be better seeing me do it in person?
I hope that by taveling I can lose myself in the real world instead of in books or in front of the computer screen, and find myself experiencing real adventures and seeing actual sites and sights, and meeting real people who I can shake hands with and who can see me while I talk. Cool concept huh?
And then people spend a great deal of the rest of their time completing private tasks of obligation and responsibility, be it a job, or housework, or studies, or even hobbies that are solitary such as reading or art.
Are we losing touch with real people? Does a travel documentary count as seeing other places? Is blogging and facebook a good substitute for actual human conversation?
Or can we, if we think about it, plan for it, pickup a little momentum to propel us forward into making contact in the physical world instead of the cyber world, into studying the lay of the land outside our front door, and beyond. You can't see my face right now, but I am smiling and pumping my fist as if to say, "Yes, let go for it.". Wouldn't it be better seeing me do it in person?
I hope that by taveling I can lose myself in the real world instead of in books or in front of the computer screen, and find myself experiencing real adventures and seeing actual sites and sights, and meeting real people who I can shake hands with and who can see me while I talk. Cool concept huh?
Friday, March 6, 2009
Without a Map
Ours was not a friendly divorce. While there wasn’t any screaming or throwing of belongings in the street or pleading to get back together, there were no pleasantries either. Actually, there was really nothing. No unnecessary words were spoken. The end was quiet and empty.
We still haven’t “talked.” At some point I left the door ajar, “if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen,” but it seems he hasn’t wanted to talk, discuss, or otherwise make nice. And I guess if I were him, I wouldn’t want to hear what I have to say either. So we cut our losses and move on. I will admit though, that the divorce still sits on my brain, pestering me with thoughts I don’t want to think. But, just so you know, I have no desire to go back to the way it was, that’s not what the thoughts are about! It’s just that 39 years of marriage was a big deal and not easily ignored or forgotten.
I am beginning to want my road trip to start NOW, so I can get out of town, get away, and experience a 360 degree change of scenery. Just looking the other way hasn’t been enough.
When it comes to picking a road to get to Austin and other destinations, I have maps that show me where I am and where Austin is and I can chart the roads that will get me from one place to another. (Someone suggested getting a GPS saying that maps are totally unnecessary. Hmmmm. I’ll think about it. Right now, computers, and digital cameras and cell phones and my little recorder are about all the technology my 62 year old brain can handle.)
But I could use a GPS for living, because right now I am wandering down life’s highway without a map.
It would be helpful, I think, to have a life map, one that would show me where I am and where I want to go and more importantly, the route I need to take to get there? Otherwise it could be that I am just moving from place to place without actually moving in the right direction. I’m talking about the big picture…..my FUTURE, my LIFE, the places and things on which I will hang my heart for a while.
I read somewhere that when we are feeling good inside, really good, confident and happy, we must be on the right road going in the right direction. If we feel bad, we have probably deviated, are off track, headed wherever, lacking direction.
The trouble is, after a divorce, feeling bad for a while is apparently normal. Forgetting about the hurt and pain is really hard to do. But then, remembering is even worse. So I find myself on a muddy road with no signs, moving along without a map. Do I turn here, right or left, or do I keep going straight? Should I stop for a while and reconnoiter. Will either choice get me where I want to go? Is there more than one way. I hope so.
We still haven’t “talked.” At some point I left the door ajar, “if you ever want to talk, I’ll listen,” but it seems he hasn’t wanted to talk, discuss, or otherwise make nice. And I guess if I were him, I wouldn’t want to hear what I have to say either. So we cut our losses and move on. I will admit though, that the divorce still sits on my brain, pestering me with thoughts I don’t want to think. But, just so you know, I have no desire to go back to the way it was, that’s not what the thoughts are about! It’s just that 39 years of marriage was a big deal and not easily ignored or forgotten.
I am beginning to want my road trip to start NOW, so I can get out of town, get away, and experience a 360 degree change of scenery. Just looking the other way hasn’t been enough.
When it comes to picking a road to get to Austin and other destinations, I have maps that show me where I am and where Austin is and I can chart the roads that will get me from one place to another. (Someone suggested getting a GPS saying that maps are totally unnecessary. Hmmmm. I’ll think about it. Right now, computers, and digital cameras and cell phones and my little recorder are about all the technology my 62 year old brain can handle.)
But I could use a GPS for living, because right now I am wandering down life’s highway without a map.
It would be helpful, I think, to have a life map, one that would show me where I am and where I want to go and more importantly, the route I need to take to get there? Otherwise it could be that I am just moving from place to place without actually moving in the right direction. I’m talking about the big picture…..my FUTURE, my LIFE, the places and things on which I will hang my heart for a while.
I read somewhere that when we are feeling good inside, really good, confident and happy, we must be on the right road going in the right direction. If we feel bad, we have probably deviated, are off track, headed wherever, lacking direction.
The trouble is, after a divorce, feeling bad for a while is apparently normal. Forgetting about the hurt and pain is really hard to do. But then, remembering is even worse. So I find myself on a muddy road with no signs, moving along without a map. Do I turn here, right or left, or do I keep going straight? Should I stop for a while and reconnoiter. Will either choice get me where I want to go? Is there more than one way. I hope so.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
An ecomonic revival plan
I heard on the news that people are currently saving more than they ever have before, which normally would be considered a good thing, but nowadays it means they are afraid to spend their money (which makes it even harder for the economy to recover.) Many have lost their jobs. I read in the newspaper about an older lady who is moving to Costa Rica to live until the economy turns around. (Jumping ship?) Stores and restaurants are closing. Homes are being foreclosed on. Apartments are standing empty. Retirees are watching their nest eggs dwindle. It's a bleak picture.
Most people I talk to are hurried, worried, and ridiculously busy, working harder and longer trying to meet unreasonable deadlines and unachievable goals. Retirees are staying put, sittling still, so to speak. Discouraged.
I feel guilty. I am not really discouraged or worried. What's wrong with me?
I am, however trying to do my part to turn things around. I have opened a new studio and gallery in a futile attempt to sell totally unnecessary and whimsical art. I've hired someone to put up a sign so folks will know I am here trying to sell them stuff. In seven weeks I will close the studio and travel for three months and spend my savings on hotel rooms and gas. For the three months it will take me to circumnavigate continental USA, I plan on being radically unproductive and slow, allowing myself to kick back and slip into a pleasurable groove with only a few achievable objectives and a flexible schedule. Trying to slow things down a bit. Set an example.
I am being radically optimistic. It seems to me that if we save a little, but still spend a little, buy stuff, you know, someone would have to make the stuff so workers would have to be hired and then they would have money to pay mortgages and buy some more stuff. And if some of us are traveling, hotels would keep maids and clerks employed. Gas stations would sell more gas and restaurants would be filled with hungry travelers. In other words, we would be on our way to a thriving economy.
So as I said, I am doing my part. I'm not making this too simple am I?
Most people I talk to are hurried, worried, and ridiculously busy, working harder and longer trying to meet unreasonable deadlines and unachievable goals. Retirees are staying put, sittling still, so to speak. Discouraged.
I feel guilty. I am not really discouraged or worried. What's wrong with me?
I am, however trying to do my part to turn things around. I have opened a new studio and gallery in a futile attempt to sell totally unnecessary and whimsical art. I've hired someone to put up a sign so folks will know I am here trying to sell them stuff. In seven weeks I will close the studio and travel for three months and spend my savings on hotel rooms and gas. For the three months it will take me to circumnavigate continental USA, I plan on being radically unproductive and slow, allowing myself to kick back and slip into a pleasurable groove with only a few achievable objectives and a flexible schedule. Trying to slow things down a bit. Set an example.
I am being radically optimistic. It seems to me that if we save a little, but still spend a little, buy stuff, you know, someone would have to make the stuff so workers would have to be hired and then they would have money to pay mortgages and buy some more stuff. And if some of us are traveling, hotels would keep maids and clerks employed. Gas stations would sell more gas and restaurants would be filled with hungry travelers. In other words, we would be on our way to a thriving economy.
So as I said, I am doing my part. I'm not making this too simple am I?
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