Doldrums

'Tis the time of the after-Christmas doldrums.  The tree is still up, but the baby who delighted in its lights has gone home.  The gifts are unwrapped; the cookies are eaten.  The mail no longer comes with packages and cards bearing news of friends and family.  The days are still short; winter has just started.  The holiday has come and gone and I blinked and missed much of it.

It's easy for me, during this time of short days, to fall into a listless state.  I dislike getting up before the sun, but my work schedule just doesn't seem to allow for my starting at 9:30.  I also don't care to work past sunset, but they don't seem to want me to leave at 4:15.  (what's with these people?)

I feel ungainly; those cookies didn't go far when I ate them - they seem to have firmly attached themselves to my hips.  I'm not exercising as much - the cold, snow and wind conspire to keep me inside.

All of which makes me extra grateful for days like these past two - the sun has been out, we've had a temporary respite from the cold.  I was able to get out and exercise and breathe deeply of the warm air.  (it doesn't take a lot of days spent below freezing for a temp in the mid-40's to seem heavenly warm...)

As I was out walking today, I was caught anew in the beauty of the leafless trees.  Without their cover of green, I can better see the lines of the branches as they reach for the light.  I can see the scars marking limbs sacrificed to passing storms. 

And if I look closely, I can see tight buds on branch-tips waiting for the sure arrival of spring.  For though it seems far away now in the midst of winter's dark, these doldrums, too, shall pass.

Silent Night

There are a few things in this world that transport me immediately back to a when and where that have long existed only in my dreams.  One of the transport vehicles is the carol, 'Silent Night'.

As soon as the song starts, I am a child again, just into my teen years.

It is Christmas Eve, and we are on our way home from church.  The car is icy cold with the chill of the Minnesota winter's night.  Outside, the snow is brightly lit by the moon.  I am tired, yet happy.  It's been a good Christmas.

We sang the old familiar carols in church, and on the way home, we start singing them again.  Mom is singing soprano; her voice soars.  My oldest brother has learned to sing tenor, my sisters and I sing the alto part, the little kids join in for the parts they know.  To my ears, the music is as heavenly as the chorus that first welcomed the Christ child.

Though the car is cold, I am warm. 
I am warmed by my coat and hat and mittens. 
I am warmed by the bodies of my sisters and brothers; we are tightly packed into the back of the car. 
I am warmed by my full stomach. 
I am warmed by the thoughts of presents waiting to be opened when we get home.

The trip to the past always leaves me with a glint of tears in my eyes; it's been long and too long since I last heard my mother sing.  Yet beneath the tears, I smile - grateful still and again for the gift of music she passed on to me.

Sleep in heavenly peace...

Darkness

I always find this time of year, with its cold and dark days to be a trial.  It's been a bit worse since my camper van trip - before that I harbored the illusion that I could run from the darkness, now I know I can't; not and stay in the main part of the U.S.

The news is full of horrible things happening in other people's lives.  From Nature and her storms to the pain people inflict on each other.  Senseless deaths and beatings.  Hungry children and drunken fights.

Somehow, in the midst of this, the death of Nelson Mandela brought a bit of perspective to it all.  Among the many quotes of his in the news this week, this one struck home:

"It always seems impossible until it's done."

He was living proof of the power of light.  He forgave his enemies and worked for reconciliation for all races.  He spent twenty-seven years in prison, and made a good friend of one of his jailors.  He stood for what he believed.

Darkness is incapable of extinguishing light

I needed the reminder.   So often these days it seems that darkness is winning.  Then I hear stories of Malala surviving the shot meant to silence her, of a lady here in town who has begun a mission to pay it forward - to work to spread a message of good.  You hear of people who go out of their way to rescue lost children and pets.  Of those who work for the light anyways, even when it seems like the dark must be winning.

It doesn't seem possible that fighting the darkness can do any good - yet Mr. Mandela accomplished the impossible.  If he could keep spreading light from the confines of his prison, perhaps darkness is not as powerful as it seems.  There is hope.

In a few days time, the season will turn, the days will begin to grow longer and the year's cycle will begin anew.  There is hope.

There is hope.

Can You Hear It?

Can you hear it?
it whispers to me as I lay down in my bed to sleep
I open my eyes for a moment, and am surprised for just an instant to see the walls of my bedroom instead of the confines of the camper van.

Can you hear it?
it beckons, just beyond reach
I tell it of my daily cares, of bills to be paid, work to be done
not today, I tell it.  nor tomorrow, but I will follow you for a while again this summer
it sighs

Can you hear it?
it tempts me with memories of days filled with being and not doing
visions of sunsets, where so clearly, God Is
the memories are bittersweet

Can you hear it?
there are so many beautiful places you haven't yet seen...
so many roads not traveled
come.  follow me. 
come.  follow me.

Can you hear it?
Can you hear the call of the road?

Thanksgiving

I'm working on the Thanksgiving thing.

It hasn't reached all the way inside just yet.  I've been doing the daily-thanks-on-FaceBook thing and it's been helping; since I know I have to come up with at least one thing each day, and I try not to repeat, it helps me to keep my eyes, mind and heart open to the good things in my life.

But.  I must admit I'm stuck in the doldrums.

I thought the foundation guy was going to come today to start on my remodeling project, but he didn't show.  I called him twice, but still haven't heard a word.  (Why do contractors do this????)  I didn't think I'd let myself get my hopes up that it was actually going to start, but given the way my attitude slumped once I realized he wasn't going to show, I think my hopes had gotten up despite my negativity.

It doesn't help that I have a stiff neck this weekend.  No looking up or to either side. With exercise and stretching, I've gotten it loosened up enough that is doesn't hurt constantly, but it's still pretty darn sore.  I think I'm going to have to break down and get a chiropractor's appointment tomorrow.  I haven't seen anyone since my practitioner-cum-therapist died last spring.  I still have her number in my phone; can't quite believe she's not going to come back to straighten me out.  I think this pain-in-the-neck is an acute reminder that it's time to get out of denial mode and find someone else I can see, at least on occasion.  **sigh**

This will be a short work-week, and I have fun plans for Thanksgiving, so perhaps the combination will help jolt me into a better space.  I hope so.  I don't have a lot of tolerance for me when I stay whiny for long.

Waiting...

I'm not so good at this waiting thing, and this past week, negativity has been winning.

I can always tell when I'm letting it get the upper hand.  I find lots of 'nevers' and disastrous situations in my thinking.

For example:  They're NEVER going to come do the foundation and the plumbing leak is getting worse which means the pipe is going to break and water is going to get everywhere and RUIN my newly refinished floors before I can get this STUPID remodeling project started!

It's been hard to watch these last few nice days pass by with no progress on the project.  I was so happy when I finally had my permit in hand.  I NEVER thought it would take so long to get someone out to do the work.

My more rational mind tells me I've got someone lined up who I think will do a good job for me.  He's just got other commitments ahead of my little project.  And do I really want someone to work for me who breaks their commitments?  When we were talking about the work, he asked all the right questions.  Someone like that is worth waiting for, says my rational mind.

I've been trying to focus on what I CAN do.  I can get the basement shower ready to go, so that if that faucet does give up the ghost, I'll be ready to go.  If the faucet goes, it's not beyond my skill set to install a temporary faucet in the bathroom if I don't want to make the trek to the basement before I absolutely have to.  I know I'd have to tear up the kitchen to make the repair, but that wouldn't break my heart.

Stop.  Breathe.  Trust.  I'm working on it.

Miscellaneous

Last weekend, I was up giving the camper van its monthly drive and getting it ready for winter.  As part of my drive, I stopped at the local gas station, and filled it up.  I needed a funnel to add the gas stabilizer, so went inside and the gal behind the counter was nice enough to give me a paper one.  Later that afternoon, as I was heading home in my Mini, I stopped at the same gas station again.  The car was quite dusty, so I ran it through the attached car wash before pulling up at the pumps.  When I went in to pay for the gas, the same attendant from earlier looked out the window at my vehicle with a puzzled look.  She noted the water droplets hanging to the car and scolded, "you washed it in hot water and it shrank, didn't you!" 

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My piano is back home!  The living room is a little cramped, and I'm going to have to move some things around so it all fits, but I don't care.  Before I moved from my old house, I didn't play the piano often, but when I did, it was often because I was troubled - the music soothes me.  I'm glad to have it here - this house is starting to feel like home.

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I absolutely LOVE late October weather in Kansas City.  I love the way the light shines through the trees in the late evenings, highlighting the fall colors in gold.  I love the turn from the heat and humidity of summer to the light jacket temps of autumn.  

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These late few mornings have been cloudy and dark.  I've been back over a year now, and must admit I am still downright whiny when I have to get out of bed before the sun comes up.  I think I should get rain days at work.  I can hear the radio announcement now:  "Because the rain pattering softly on the roof in the pre-dawn darkness makes it well-nigh impossible to pry oneself out of bed, work and school will be starting one hour late this morning."

Wouldn't it be nice?

Bicycle Ride!

It's been about a year since my friend Charlie died, and his family hosted a bike ride in his memory this past weekend.

I think he had a say in the weather, because mid-October can be cold and rainy around here.  This past Sunday, though, was 70 and sunny.  The morning started cool, just perfect for exercising.

The ride started just a mile or so from my house, but I still got there just barely on time.  I was a bit nervous about riding with a group (I've always ridden on my own before...), and kept forgetting things as I was leaving the house.  I had to go back in four or five times.  (How did I ever make it out the door with two young children?  I guess I was more organized in those days...)

But, I made it in time to leave with the group, and didn't have any trouble riding the whole twelve miles.  (I was pleasantly surprised with my ability to keep up with the more experienced riders; I'd had visions of them far ahead, me straining to catch flashes of the bright yellow-green of their jackets, making a wrong turn, having to figure out how to ride back home by myself.  Not that my imagination ever runs away with me...)  I did take one tumble.  I started out faster than the riders around me, had to brake - and caught my pedal on the curb.  I tried to correct, but hit the ground.  Fortunately, all I bruised was my pedal and my ego.  (my fun flashy taillight also fell off, but I didn't notice for another mile or so, and by then, it was too late to go back to get it.  sadness.)

It was way fun to ride with others.  Sometimes I was near the front of the pack, sometimes near the back.  I had people to talk to and people to watch.  The group stopped just often enough for me to catch my breath and snag a drink of water. 

It still doesn't quite seem fair that Charlie is gone.  He was one of the good guys and his family and friends all miss him lots; the Charlie-sized hole in our lives has not yet knit or healed.  Still, he wasn't one for dwelling on what he was missing - he was all about the joys he had.  In keeping with his life, though we were sad, we also laughed and talked and enjoyed being alive and with each other on such a beautiful day.  Charlie, here's to you!

Waiting... Not Very Patiently.

It took longer than I'd anticipated to get the permits approved - I didn't realize my house was in a Landmarks Commission district - which requires an extra layer of approval in the permit process.  Fortunately for my nerves, I found out in late August, just in time to get on the September meeting docket.  Also fortunately for my nerves, the city staffer who was in charge of my application was responsive, helpful and made sure I had turned in what I needed to have to ensure the application slid through easily.

As I was sitting in the meeting waiting, I was fairly confident all would go well.  But then came the case right before mine.  The lady wanted to expand her garage - but didn't have very detailed plans, and was significantly altering the street view of the property, so after about 20 minutes of discussion they sent her away to try again.

"Argh!", I thought.  "I don't have time to try again."  Instant panic mode.  When they called my name a minute later, I quashed the panic back down and put on my best smile.  My plans were more detailed, and the planned addition is barely visible from the street, so after just a few minutes of discussion, I was given the go-ahead. **whew!**

I'm not very good at waiting.  I know patience is a virtue.  And I've been practicing for a long time, really I have.  But I'm still not very good at it.

So now I have my permits, and I'm ready to go - and I have to wait until the foundation guy can fit me in.  He said, last week, that he should be able to do it in two weeks, but in my heart of hearts, I'm afraid that two weeks means that's when he'll think about maybe figuring out what he needs to do to begin pulling the resources together for the project which he actually might get to in the spring.

In the meantime, the year leaps towards winter, and my plumbing gets creakier by the day.  (The faucet for the shower has dying washers, and when you turn it on, you get a nice stream of water from the faucet itself.  I'm afraid to take it apart to try and fix it - old plumbing is not forgiving in the least!)

It's going to be a race between the plumbing giving way and the remodeling getting finished.  Each day, when I get in the shower, I pray that the faucet will turn on one more time, and when I finish my shower, I pray it will turn off again.  So far, so good, but this is hard on my nerves!

I'm trying to be patient and trust that it'll all work out - but I'm not patient, and I'm not so great at the trust thing either...

Disorder

Entropy (definition):

a :  the degradation of the matter and energy in the universe to an ultimate state of inert uniformity

b :  a process of degradation or running down or a trend to disorder

I heard a part of a program on NPR this past week talking about order and disorder in the universe.  The professor (I'm sorry I didn't catch his name) on the program was talking about why it is so difficult to keep order in our lives.  It seems that five minutes after you clear a desk, its surface is again covered in papers.  Given that the tendency of the universe is towards entropy, why even bother?

His comments matched my mood well.  Why bother?

But then he continued.  Why bother?  Because life is the universe's way of bringing order into the equation.  Life depends on the orderliness of the cells within those who live.  Death comes when disorder among those cells (think, cancer) tips the balance towards entropy.

I've been pondering his words all week.  I like them.  They make sense at a deep level.  The clothes get dirty, I wash them.  The house gets dirty, I clean it.  The papers cover the dining room table, after a while I can't stand it, and I sort them and get them where they belong.  I take satisfaction in having restored order to my space, even though I know it won't last.  (I'm pretty sure the papers breed on the table at night after I go to bed...)  It's my way of affirming life.

I even took time this week to clean my desk at work.  (see photo)  It had been so long since I'd done it that one of the teachers came in, looked at the bare surface with surprise, and asked if I'd gotten a new desk.  I'm obviously going to have to work harder at that one...