Author Archives: Birdzwordz

Not Fade Away

On Saturday, his face, his smile, his laugh all filled my mind. I didn’t wonder about it, the approaching anniversary of his departure was a logical trigger, but today he appeared in the street, as if he’d been here all along, instead of moving six states away two years ago.

I paused. Was it a mirage? No. If I imagined it, I would visualize myself with combed hair and better clothes. Unable to fix my appearance, I walked over to say hello.

He looked great, as always, but also happier and more relaxed than when we said goodbye. His prior disposition undoubtedly being partially my fault. He came back this weekend for a wedding, and will be gone tomorrow. I rambled, of course. It can’t be helped in this kind of situation, but I’m pretty sure I avoided saying anything stupid or embarrassing.

Hours later, I’m still reeling. I had important things to do this afternoon, but instead, I went for a swim. Now it’s getting late. I should have dinner, but my mind is distracted, searching for the key that unlocks a different ending for us. I’ve missed him since the day he left, and our three minutes of idle chit chat today only served to remind me.

Two years ago, he gave me a silver pendant on a chain. One side a compass, the other an anchor. Back then, I thought he was the anchor, providing stability in an uncertain situation.      I was the compass. Later, I realized the truth. I remained anchored here while his compass pointed him somewhere else. After six months, I undid the clasp and put it away.

Today, I put the necklace on again, just for a day…or two.

Recognize the Possibilities

Recently, a lot of annoying things have been happening. Not life or death, and not this is going to change my entire existence, but little things that irritate, annoy, frustrate. Things that pile up and weigh me down.

Some are recurring nuisances. For example, our phone line needs to be replaced. It is currently buried underneath a dirt road. Torrential rains cause the road to rut and wash away. Additional rock and dirt are added several times per year, and each time the road is “fixed” our buried land line is disturbed and damaged. Verizon patches the line, and a few weeks later the process is repeated. Frustrating. Except this time, the damaged line somehow self-dialed 911 and three police cars showed up. Annoying. The very next day, my dog encountered a skunk. Then, I discovered inconsistencies in my property tax bill requiring a meeting with the tax assessor. By this point, the aggravation usually feels crushing, but I must have been wearing rose colored glasses this week because every irritation turned into an opportunity.

My displeasure became a sign that something I’d put off was calling me to act.

During the police search, the lead officer suggested I unplug all the phones until the line was repaired, but that telephone line we never use cost $30 per month, and I’d been thinking about disconnecting it for months. Since I had to call Verizon anyway, I exercised my option to cancel the service.

Picking up my stinky dog, carrying her to the bathtub, and scrubbing her clean reminded me that my towel was still wet from my own shower 90 minutes earlier. I looked in the mirror and frowned. Then, I remembered my legs hadn’t been shaved for weeks. I always tell myself I’ll shave next time, but I needed a second shower now, so why not? Thanks to that skunk, I have smooth legs.

I delegated the issues with the tax bill and suddenly all my grievances became achievements. Maybe they stack up together to get my attention? I simply need to recognize the possibility presented when something unexpected occurs rather than judging it negatively.

This morning my back went bad which initially incites panic because my to do list won’t get done, but it’s Sunday, so I’m going to plug in the heating pad and watch football. A well deserved day of rest. Go Team!

In the Garden

Over the weekend, I worked in my garden. Weeding is something that continually gets pushed to the bottom of my to do list. I don’t know why. Okay, I do know why. Bugs, dirt, hot sun beating down? Not much to love. This time I selected the right day because the bugs were few, the day was cool (and cloudy, so no sunburn), and though I did get dirt under my fingernails, I’ve managed to dig most of it out. My garden is tidy, and I feel much better.

Being in the garden on Sunday turned out to be the perfect way to spend the afternoon. I started with a simple plan to fertilize the tomatoes which have finally started ripening. They look, smell, and taste amazing, but when I brought the first can of plant food treated water, I noticed some vines were so weighted down with fruit, they were laying on the ground. I completed three trips of fertilized water before hunting for the stakes I’d stashed from last season. They are bamboo, barely covered in faded green paint after several seasons. I don’t use circular metal cages, though I probably should because my tomatoes always grow into an unruly, tangled mess, but I really enjoying staking and tying the vines, so I continue with the process every year.

Kneeling in the dirt to tie the vines, I fought with tall weeds. After yanking them, I righted the tomato vines, only to discover crabgrass and other smaller weeds underneath. I yanked those, too, and continued until the tomatoes, peppers, and herbs had been trimmed, tidied and staked, and piles of weeds were discarded outside the fence. The garden looked healthy. Satisfied, I picked the strawberry plant clean of ripe fruit and shoveled the berries in my mouth without washing the dirt off. It felt like just the right reward.

I like to create things, but drawing, designing, planning, and even writing, leaves me feeling unsatisfied. My final product never seems to measure up. The best thing about my garden is the “not good enough” feeling never surfaces. My strawberries may be odd shapes and my tomatoes may not win blue ribbons at the fair, but they always taste good, and I’m proud to share them with others, gleefully acknowledging, “yes, this came from my garden!” I don’t know if the things I grow are flavored by pride or TLC. I don’t think it really matters, do you?

Nowhere to Run

One of the reasons I love to run is that for one hour, I escape from the craziness of everyday life. During my run, my life is my own. No interruptions. Whether I think or daydream, zone out or absorb the details normally missed driving from one commitment to another, unwelcome distractions are left behind. In one hour, I reset the balance in my life. But in early June, I developed a stress fracture in center of my strike zone- third digit, third knuckle, deep in the ball of my foot (thank you “barefoot style running shoes”).

A stress fracture is not a break. It is a weakness in the bone from repeated pounding, but like a break, the cure is to stay off it. Easier said that done when talking about feet. Since summer was just kicking off, I didn’t want to wear a boot, so everywhere I went-even dressy parties, I donned old running shoes with extra padding in order to protect the foot and help it heal. Desperate to stay in shape while sidelined from running, I Googled: “no impact ways to burn 500 calories”.There are some interesting options on those lists. I chose biking and swimming as my primary cardio work outs. I bought a hula hoop to increase my abdominal workout, and I’ve even borrowed a kayak some Saturday mornings. The problem with these other forms of exercise is that I don’t get the private “me” time I crave. When biking, I have to concentrate lest a car, dog walker, moped, other biker, pedestrian, or a child on a scooter or a skateboard (and most days it is all of the above) stray into my path. When I’m swimming, I have to dodge other swimmers mostly children and teenagers cannon balling into my lane their nerve fraying squeals and personal space invading splashing adding to my stress. Even if I try to walk, people seem to ignore that I’m exercising and stop to chat or ask directions.

After four weeks, I suffered from mild depression and high anxiety, but finally the pain in my foot disappeared. I opened a box of new shoes (with extra forefront cushioning) and walked half a mile until I reached a dirt trail. For two miles, I ran, and happily sweated until I reached my favorite swim spot, but by then the pain was back. It was too much, too soon. This is one of those times in life when I have to be patient and find new ways to achieve my goals and handle accumulating stress. To help relax, I’ve downloaded a hypnotism app for my phone that helps me get to sleep and stay sleeping longer. I also take a few minutes at the end of my swim to focus on just floating and breathing. I use my bike to run errands whenever possible increasing exercise time and lending a hand to the environment. One perk of all this alternative exercise is that I’ve developed uber toned arms.

There will always be setback in life and things that throw me off course and out of my normal routine. The key is to not let them stop me all together. I cope. I adjust. I survive….until I run again.

A Really Good Book

Have you ever spent time with two people and found out later they are in a relationship and thought, “Hmmm, I never would have guessed!”

Some twosomes have electric energy that anyone can sense, as if they glow the same shade of purple, but for others, without the shared looks or purposeless touching, the pair seems more like buddies than bedfellows.

I recently witnessed a couple seriously lacking in chemistry. Individually, each one is fantastic-attractive, engaging, fun, but together they fall flat. Granted some relationships start off slowly as the individuals get to know each other, but after a time, for the couple I’m referencing it had been over 6 months, outsiders should be able to tell the two of you make up a “we”.

I can’t imagine being in a unidentifiable to others relationship over the long term. If I’m drawn in by the cover of the book, as I often am when it comes to men, I figure out pretty quickly whether the story holds my interest. Sure, I might stick it out for a few chapters hoping the plot improves, especially if he is really HOT, but at some point, it makes sense to close the book if it’s not enjoyable, and go find a better story.

Some determined people insist on continuing until the end, but aren’t those always the books you look back on and think, why did I bother? The end was so obvious right from the beginning!

I’ve learned to appreciate stories that seem totally not my style, but come highly recommended. They are always filled with adventure, hold my interest, teach me something, and keep me absorbed right to the end. In fact, thinking about this right now makes me want to go find myself another really good book…

Have a Heart

I recently told a friend of mind that being positive is a choice.

This declaration came after he spent three hours ranting about the terrible things that make up this world. He highlighted the many things there are to fear, and mistakes people in power make.

I used to spent my time and energy thinking about what was wrong, rather than appreciating goodness, love, and beauty in the world. Since shifting my focus, I’ve noticed hearts appearing everywhere.

Heart large

I find heart shaped rocks on the beach, and pick them up. I have a nice collection going.

   heart shaped rock pile

I take pictures of heart shaped puddles left after the rain,)heart puddle

…and heart shaped knots in wood.

Heart shaped woodknot

Every time I see a heart, I smile

I’m smiling a lot these days.

heartshaped rock inside

I compared my friend, who was choosing to be negative, to Darth Vader. Then, I suggested he search for his inner Luke Skywalker. Love is inside us all. Realize that, and you will see it everywhere.

Psychic Encounter

 

Knowing my future while still in my present is an idea that has always intrigued me. If I already knew I’d be a published author with an amazing husband, I might sleep better at night, but aside from one time in San Francisco when I walked by a woman who remarked on my bright blue aura, I’d never pursued the clairvoyant. Last month, I was gifted thirty minutes with a psychic, and thought my brilliant future would finally be revealed.

Preparatory instructions for the meeting included making a list of questions. I had plenty, starting with, would I EVER find the right guy? But as the day of my reading approached, I recognized my dilemma: I only wanted a certain result. What if my future was not that which I hoped? What if the psychic revealed a path I didn’t expect, or an outcome I couldn’t accept? Would my days be filled with dread and hopelessness waiting for the prophecy to come true?

With only twenty minutes to go, my mind raced. Should I ask the tough questions? Or should I ask the unimportant questions? I should have been working to relax and clear my mind, as the instructions stated, but I was nervous. Maybe I should continue to live day to day swathed in the ease of ignorance. I didn’t pay for the session. I could skip it. With less than a minute to decide, I took a deep breath in, and as I released it, I came to a conclusion. My life is my life. Nothing that this woman could tell me would throw me so far out of balance that I wouldn’t recognize my own path. I stepped up to face my fate with a smile.

As it turns out, I’m going to have a great life. She offered no specifics, and I didn’t press for details. I couldn’t bear to ask about my relationship status, but she addressed it anyway, saying I was on the right track, things are in place, and everything would work out. At the very least, I got a really great pep talk. Her only solid advice echoed what I already tell myself daily: Be patient and STOP over thinking things.

We already know when life is going well, and when it isn’t, we make the necessary changes to shift course. Sometimes the changes take a lot of consideration. I’m a big fan of pro-con lists, but in the end, no matter which column has more items, I usually go with my gut. I trust my own instincts. Right now, my life is enjoyable. It’s not traditional, and it may not be memorable to others, but I feel like I’m in a good place. I’m not sure why I needed a stranger to reassure me that everything is fine? Perhaps because I’ve fooled myself before, but the older I get, the more I recognize that I’m the one who affects the outcome of my life. There are no magic wands, spells, or potions that change the course of where I’m headed, and whether a psychic can see my future or not, she has no divining power over it. I make the choices and decisions. I make the happiness.

 

 

Explore Locally

“Travel is a glorious form of procrastination” –Here is Where by Andrew Carroll

Frequenting travel websites partially satiates my desire to disappear to a remote tropical island, but mostly, I peruse Kayak and Expedia because my job includes arranging travel for others. Booking airline tickets and hotel rooms that I will never set foot in is a little like standing on the sidelines of a road race. I would much rather be taking part in the action.

I read recently that planning a trip, even if you never take it, can be good for you-something about anticipation sending happy chemicals to the brain. Now you know why the Travelocity gnome is always a little loopy.

I remember traveling to Greece and Rome, finally seeing all the places that I’d learned about in school. Even though the ruins were…ruined, to be there allowed me to absorb a little of life in BC. It was SO cool, and I think about trips like that when I’m moving through the humdrum of daily life. Why mow the lawn when I could be hiking the Great Wall of China?

Time off from work and my meager bank account are two reasons why not.

My limitations started me thinking about how to open my mind to the everyday world around me. I shouldn’t have to travel to China to create new experiences. Instead of pushing a mower around the yard, I could lay down on the lawn with a pair of scissors to discover a new perspective, or I could delve into the local culture. There are streets in my town I’ve never driven down, people I’ve never talked to, and restaurants I’ve never tasted.

It doesn’t cost a lot of money or require a lot of planning (or Bonine) to achieve perspective and adventure. Most of us can find it around the corner or down the street if we are willing to do some exploring in our own backyard, and once you have made the effort, the experience won’t just be a memory, it can be shared over again with neighbors, family, and friends.

 

Uncertainty

 

March is the anniversary of a time in my life when I had no control over events impacting me, and even twenty years later, my body still remembers. Like a a virus buried in my DNA, headaches, dizzy spells, exhaustion, nightmares, depression, confusion, and uncertainty surface every year that no manner of counseling can cure. With my Dad’s illness and stress at work, I was especially vulnerable when the wave of toxicity washed over me a few weeks ago. I could barely get out of bed. I stopped running. I ate without tasting food. I went through the motions at work, but seemed to get nothing done. I filed extensions for the corporate tax returns due mid month. I wasted my evening hours flipping channels on the television without ever watching anything, and snuck off to bed at 7:30pm. To say I was in a bad place is an understatement, but I’d sampled medical and homeopathic solutions for years.

During the month of March, nothing in my world is ever sensible or stable.

To make things worse, this March had kicked off with a misunderstanding between myself and a friend, and part of the insanity I experience during my annual slide into purgatory is that my mind grabs hold of an issue and blows it out of proportion. This year, I focused on the friendship that was now in jeopardy. I reviewed it start to finish (which took a while since we’ve know each other for almost three decades). I searched for something in those years to answer abstract questions bigger than the issue at hand. I wanted proof of something-right or wrong before facing him in New York at the end of the month. I needed indisputable answers, but I found none. Scenarios looping through my mind kept me awake at night as I anguished over my uncertainty. I could put on a smile and pretend everything was okay, but I really hoped he would absolve me of responsibility by canceling. The week before, I chose to defer, and because my poisoned mind wouldn’t allow for excuses, I texted my friend the version of the truth my brain believed at the time. I told him he was right, and I couldn’t face him. Send. It was done. My questions were answered. I was the bad guy.

Then, something strange happened… I slept well that night.

I woke up the next day, feeling refreshed. I was a whirlwind at work. I came home and completed one of the corporate tax returns. I slept well again. The next day, the process repeated. All the clouds had blown away. I was back to normal, but it was only March 19! There should have been more doom and gloom. How could I be cured already?

The only proven remedy for uncertainty is to make a decision and take action. It sounds pretty simple, but it can be an insurmountable challenge when paralyzed by anxiety, confusion, and depression. I’m not saying I made a good decision, but instead of sitting around waiting for the problem to go away, or for someone else to make the decision for me, I took charge. Making a decision provided the control I was lacking.

My next decision was simple and proactive: set a reminder in my iphone to utilize this golden elixir next March.

 

Staring Stan

Have you ever been seriously stared at?

Not when you catch someone looking just before he turns away. I mean fixated, eyes locked, seemingly unashamed…staring. If was a stranger, label him a creepy stalker, and get on with life (hopefully never seeing the wierdo again). But my Staring Stan is someone I’ve known for a long time.

I should ask him why, but what if he denies it? Seriously, I SAW you! But maybe he was just spacing out? He wasn’t. Staring is staring. And when it happens intensely enough to make me double check I’m fully clothed, it is a problem.

In high school, teenage boys stare at teenaged girls, but high school ended twenty five years ago. I’m not a circus freak. Stop staring!

I should be the one staring at him. What happened ? He used to be fun. He used to know how to relax. He used to have a personality, but we chose different paths. He created a “Leave it to Beaver” household with a wife and two children. I never bought the white dress and I didn’t give birth. I also didn’t become a completely different person.

Is he staring because he recognizes that I’m still me? I haven’t changed. Somehow, I missed the chapter in the Book of Life where everyone casts off their younger selves and becomes middle aged stereotypes.

He is exactly the kind of guy HE used to make fun of.

Ironically, now he looks at me the way I looked at him twenty years ago with a mix of awe and disbelief. Is he wondering how his life could have turned out differently? Is he lost in a daydream of the past trying to hold onto it a little longer? Maybe, if only… but once you start to wake up, and the present comes back into focus, it’s already too late.