Weaning

Although I took my Mac Book along to Newport Beach last week, I left it in the case for four days.  That's right - I didn't look at email, Facebook, Twitter, or any blogs.  I read the newspaper with coffee each morning (USA Today was left outside our door), and other than casting a glance at my husband's I-Pad every now and then, my fingers did not touch a keyboard from Sunday until Thursday. So what? you're asking.  What's the big deal about staying off the computer for four days?

For me, it was quite a big deal.

Lately I've come to the realization that the computer has become far too important to my ordinary existence.  In the weeks leading up to our planned trip to Paris, I was completely fixated on  internet news stories related to the strikes and social unrest.  Thanks to the World Wide Web, I was able to call up some new sensationalized version of what was going on over there every fifteen minutes if I wanted to .

And boy, did I want to.  Those internet reports just fueled the flames of my already smoldering fire - the one of worry, unease, and agitation.

But by the time I got to California -  after many frantic emails with my friends who were already over there, and then trading in my Paris airline tickets, booking a hotel, and renting a car -  I suddenly realized just how much the internet had influenced my decision.   Why, I might never have known about the strikes at all if I hadn't seen it online.

And it isn't just internet news...Facebook, Twitter, blogs - I find all of these commanding my attention several times during the day, and I inevitably find myself going down some rabbit hole or other, resulting in major time consumption.  At which point I jump up, realize I'm way behind schedule for doing what I was supposed to be doing before I got online, and then scramble around for the next couple of hours playing catch-up.

My computer consumption has started affecting my life and my mental health like a bad relationship.   What I seem to have lost is my ability to focus on things that matter without feeling this persistent pull toward the myriad distractions in cyber space.  What I crave is a return to simplicity, a greater appreciation for simple times and small pleasures.

My computer and I had a trial separation period during those four days in California, and it felt really good.  So I've been making a conscious effort to wean myself from the computer.  Not give it up completely, but ration my time with it.  This is my first time online today (it's 5:00 pm here), and I've been much calmer and more focused on the other tasks at hand.

Sometimes too much of a good thing really is too much.

“Smile, breathe and go slowly.”

– Thich Nhat Hanh

How about you?   How does your relationship with your computer affect your daily life?

A Simply Good Day

Today was a good day. Nothing unusual or exciting to make it so.

It was actually very simple.

I spent the morning at school, rehearsing with middle schooler's for their fall concert.

I spent the afternoon at home, doing laundry and tidying up the house.

The sun was shining, the ground was a colorful carpet of leaves.

I walked the dogs just before dinner, a difference in their routine that thrilled them no end, as evidenced by the spring in their step and the high plumage of their fluffy tails.

Now, I'm drinking a glass of wine and waiting for my husband to come home from work.

Once upon a time, when my son was young, and my days were much less full, every day was like this one.

Simple, but good.

I hope yours was, too.

Speaking of Adventures...

...we recently had lunch with some good friends  who announced that husband's application for foreign assignment had been approved and in a matter of months they would be off to the Far East for three years. Now that's an adventure.

I spent the majority of the meal trying to swallow around the lump in my throat, but aside from the fact that we'll miss them HUGELY, I'm standing in awe of their intrepid bravery.  Leaving house and home behind for life in a totally foreign culture takes loads of courage - at least it does in my book (read my last post if you doubt!)  I'm left wondering why some people are able to not only embark on such big life changes, but to seek them out willingly?  while others have such an innate fear of change that they try to avoid it at any cost?

Upbringing probably contributes, although both these friends are products of a midwestern suburban lifestyle, with stay at home moms and dads who worked 9-to-5.  Like us, their lives followed the prescribed route for the baby boomer generation- school, college, job, marriage, home in the suburbs, children.

Exposure to a variety of experiences throughout life also predisposes people to embrace change and new opportunities with a sense of expectation rather than dread.  Generationally, young people today are much more likely to have traveled and seen more of the world than people did when I was young.  Plus, people who are optimistic about life in general would certainly be more likely to seek out new lifestyles experiences than those who see the world from the "glass half empty" perspective.

Some cultures also place great store on the pioneer spirit, and encourage their citizens to seek opportunities in new areas, to blaze trails where others have feared to tread.    Certainly this nation has become a beacon for people from all over the world, a place of promise and hope for a brighter future, often hard won in terms of leaving behind all that's familiar and loved.

I'm bombarded with a multitude of feelings as I contemplate my friends upcoming move and all the change ahead for them.   Knowing that it's the fulfillment of a career long dream for them helps mitigate some of the sadness we feel at the loss of their companionship.

And part of me admits to a tiny spark of envy - there is something actually quite appealing about the idea of starting off on this big adventure, just the two of them setting sail across the world much like the westward pioneers of old, but with all the modern conveniences to make the transition so much easier.

Perhaps there's an ounce of gypsy blood in me after all?

Well, probably not.

But it doesn't stop me from wishing them Godspeed and smooth sailing.

Or  from counting the days until they come home.

How about you?  Are you and adventurer? Or not?

Trippin'

Here I am, in the Delta Sky Club, sipping a cup of (free) coffee, nibbling a (free) toasted bagel and some trail mix), using the (free) internet, and waiting for my flight to board. The past week has been kind of an emotional roller coaster ride for me, and has brought me face to face with some things about myself that I have to decide whether to work on overcoming, or simply accept for what they are and go from there.   In practical terms,  these things have a lot to do with the issue of being home, of traveling.  In more general terms, it's all about staying within a comfort zone, and how much willingness/courage/opportunity I have to step outside of it.

I have enough self awareness to know where my comfort zone lies, and I also know that over the past several months-maybe years- it's been shrinking instead of expanding.  Several incidents during the recent past have demonstrated this in spades, most notably the Paris trip we had planned for this week.  I had so much anxiety surrounding this trip - irrational anxiety which had little to do with the unexpected social unrest in that country - but which stemmed from a real, and obsessive fear of leaving home.  I remember having that kind of fear about a trip one other time in my life.  It was the first trip I was going to take as accompanist for the high school choir, a long weekend in New York City which turned out to be one of the most exciting and memorable trips I can remember.  And yet, for days even weeks before hand, I was sick to my stomach at the thought of going on it.

I've traveled a lot since then, on musical trips, and vacation trips, solo and with groups.  And I always experience a certain amount of anxiety, but it's always been manageable.  This time was different - the anxiety nearly crippled me, and in the end played a significant role in our decision to cancel the trip.  The strikes and gas shortages and terror alerts - those didn't help, for sure.  But I'll admit, in a small corner of my psyche, I was almost relieved to have this excuse.

So knowing and recognizing this reluctance to travel, what do I do?  Because I think this fear is only one symptom of a larger and more pressing disorder - the aforementioned shrinking of the comfort zone.  How do I find ways to expand my boundaries?   Or do I simply accept that this is my personality and live within whatever comfort zone I eke out for myself? I can envision my life diminishing into the kind of small, safe box my mother and aunt and grandmother chose to live in.  Occasionally, fed up with the hassles of modern life, I'm tempted to shout "open the lid and let me climb in!"  But then, I think about the brevity of life in general, and wonder if I this is really the way I want to live out the remainder of mine in particular.

Perhaps, as in alcoholism, recognizing the disorder is a sign of half the battle won.  As I did 15 years ago when I went back to work after being a stay-at-home mom,  I need to be alert for opportunities to step outside the confines of my comfortable box.  But knowing who and how I am, I also need a core group of "encouragers" - cheerleaders, if you will -  faithful supporters who nurture and cajole me into taking those first steps.

Then  I might find the sides of the box expanding ever so gently, taking my comfort zone along for the ride.

Oh - in case you're wondering what I'm doing in the Delta Sky Club - we actually did travel this week.  To Newport Beach, California, where we spent a very happy five days driving a Corvette convertible up and down the Pacific Coast Highway.

And so the expansion begins <smile>

Ways and Whys of Writing

This was exactly what I needed tonight - an invitation to write about something so completely opposite from everything else that's been on my mind of late - strikes in Paris, home invasions, frail elderly parents - an opportunity to just think about something I do for me and wallow in a few minutes of geekiness about it. I was enjoying Melissa's blog post earlier today about the "ways and whys" of her writing life.  Her post led to me here, to the post that inspired her and a to a blog I think I could quickly come to love.  I shouldn't be surprised, because its author is the editor of one my favorite e-zines, All Things Girl.  While wandering through her archives, I realize she and I think a lot alike on a number of topics.

But back to her invitation..."Because people fascinate me," she writes,  I am curious about other writers. How do they maintain the discipline?  Where is their best place to write?  When are they most creative?"

Oh yes, the writing life.  It's been getting short shrift around here, mostly because of those afore-mentioned preoccupations.  I recall a time when I came to the page each morning with the same regularity that I set the coffee brewing and opened the back door to let the dogs out.  Life has been fragmented lately, and writing always finds its way to the back burner when that happens.

I'm a morning writer.  My morning ritual starts with strong coffee and reading...immersing myself in the words of good writers helps jumpstart my creative process.  A few years ago, I was deeply committed to morning pages, three pages of handwritten, stream of consciousness style writing, which I found extremely helpful in keeping my own muse satisfied.  Alas, I've fallen out of that habit - or rather, it's been supplanted by morning exercise, which is good for me in an entirely different, but no less important way.  I have a drawer in my desk filled with spiral notebooks from the Dollar Store (34 in all, about one a month), which contain almost three years worth of  morning ramblings from a middle aged woman.

Most of my writing is digital - I work on a MacBook Pro at home and on an old Gateway desktop (circa 2000!) at my office (where I write medical reports for insurance companies and attorneys).   I love paper and pen writing  - but my handwriting has become atrocious over the past few years, especially when I'm trying to write fast enough to keep up with my thought process.  More than once I've scribbled so frantically in hopes of capturing every idea that I've been unable to read it later.  When I write manually, I usually work best with a cheap Paper Mate pen, and a one-subject, wide ruled, spiral bound notebook.

Sometimes (like tonight) I'll get a second wind, and find myself writing late in the evening before bed.  A late night check of e-mail and social media occasionally inspires me, and I'll find myself tearing off a blog post or starting a new story or essay.

I'm fortunate to have a "room of my own" for writing.  It was once my son's bedroom, but when he grew up and moved away, it became my place to retreat for quiet reading, writing, and resting.  I have a desk, and a big easy chair with matching ottoman, where one or two dogs are usually curled up sleeping when I write.  Right now, I'm using a gorgeous wooden lap desk that my husband bought me a while back (one of those "just because" presents that are SO meaningful).

So there you have the "ways" of writing.  As for the "whys" - writing has always been the way I made sense of Life in General and My Own in Particular.  It's a way to tell my side of the story.  Because I think every one has a story worth telling, and that we each learn and are enriched when we share those stories with one another.

How about you?  What are the ways and whys of your writing life?