It's the People

Earlier today I had a phone conversation with my Dad. You might recall that he's undergoing another round of chemo for a recurrence of colon cancer. It's been well over five years since his original diagnosis and treatment, but in the interim he had a bout of prostate cancer which was treated with radiation therapy. Did I mention that he also has Parkinson's disease?

And that he's 85 years old?

As you might imagine, he's rather frail. We're planning a trip to Florida later this week to see him, so I inquired about his schedule in the upcoming days.

"Well, Tuesday's and Thursdays are therapy days," he said, rattling it off verbatim. "I get this pump thing filled up on Tuesdays, and wear it all day Wednesday, and then go back in on Thursday for some other treatment. I'm working on Friday and Sunday this week, but on Saturday I'm free all day."

"Are you still working??" I asked, somewhat incredulously. My Dad has worked at the local Walmart for the past several years, even working full time for a while.

"Just two days a week now," he said, "and only four hours at a time."

"Do you really think you should do that?" I wondered, not for the first time.

"Yeah, I need to," he said. "It keeps my mind off all this other awful stuff. Besides, I like all the people I work with, and I have my regular customers that come in and get upset if I'm not there. That's the best part of work, the people."

Of course he's right. Especially for a man like my Dad, who enjoys talking to people, who ran a successful small business for 40 years, who likes to be out and about in the world.

"How about you?" he asked. "Do you miss your job?"

I thought for a minute before I answered. Fact is, I don't miss the work itself, but I do miss the people I worked with. I enjoyed the interaction with my co-workers and my boss, enjoyed the camaraderie, the sense of shared purpose - all the things I'm enjoying so much in my Classical Bells rehearsals.

When I told him as much, he understood immediately. "It's all about the relationships," he said.

I can believe that. There is much satisfaction to be had in the workplace, and not all of it has to do with a job well done.

How about you. Do your working relationships help make a dull job better? 

We're Getting Smarter, People!

Crossword puzzles, sudoko, aerobic exercise, fish oil...for years, baby boomers and seniors have been hearing about the benefits of these things in helping us avoid dementia, Alzheimer's and the general memory loss that accompanies aging. In her cover article for a recent issue of Newsweek, Sharon Begley has even better news. She writes of 31 Ways to Get Smarter in 2012, ways we can not only improve our memory, but boost our overall IQ as much as 20 points.

The really good news about these findings? Nearly all the methods of getting smarter are easy, enjoyable, and cheap. How often do you see those three words in a sentence to describe anything these days??

Of the 31 ways, I was happy to note that many of them are things I already do (drink coffee, eat dark chocolate, play musical instruments, get a good amount of sleep, eat yogurt, drink lots of water) or things I'd like to do (learn a language, visit art museums, go to literary festivals, join a knitting circle, dance). One of the recommendations I know I'll never do (play violent videos games- but hey, that's good news for my son, and maybe why he's a genius. And I thought it was because of my stellar parenting techniques!) These things all look like so much fun, I'm only half surprised they didn't list sports betting as a way to get smarter.

Begley says one of the biggest detriments to becoming smarter is lack of attention. And one the major reasons we've all become a little attention deficit - you guessed it. Technology drains our focus in a hundred ways.  Hence another way to get smarter - toss the Smartphone in the garbage, and get outside and play  games like soccer.

The article accompanying Begley's list is well worth reading, as she delves into some of the neuropsychological reasons the brain either gets smarter (or not) over time. Because just as brain power and intelligence can increase during our lifespan, so can they decrease without the proper care and feeding.

And none of us wants that to happen.

Last week at bell rehearsal I was talking with my stand partner about the article. We've been working on some particularly difficult music, requiring us to come up with some very creative bell changing options. As we discussed ways to get through a particularly difficult passage, we sipped coffee and nibbled on some of the ever-present chocolate squares. "

"Look at this," I told Darcie. "We're getting smarter every minute!"

That's the way to play it.

Write On Wednesday: Putting It Off

Just as soon as I've finished my morning coffee (two cups, black) and set aside my book, Magic jumps up from his perch beside me in the big green chair and settles expectantly on the floor in front of me. His gracefully plumed tail starts to wag, and, head lowered slightly, he looks out from under slightly overgrown eyebrows with those huge brown eyes of his. A low rumble emerges from his throat, an "nnrrr"-ing sound that is his way of urging me out of my chair and out the door.

It's walk time.

Some mornings (mostly winter mornings) I think about invesing in some indoor Pet Waste Stations or dog exercise equipment. But since I've not done that, I put on my coat, hat, earmuffs, gloves and boots.

And we walk.

When we come in, I'm cold. I need more coffee, so I rinse out the pot from this morning, dump the used filter into the garbage, measure out another four cups of cold water and two scoops of fresh Gevalia coffee. While I'm waiting - and waiting - and waiting - for it to make it's way through the pot, past the grounds, and into the carafe (final destination my china mug), I flip open my iPad and check in with social media. Any new video's of Connor this morning? Yes? I watch it once, then twice, then maybe a third time, lapping up ever little coo, squawk, kick, and squiggle.

By this time, the coffee's done. But wait - before pouring a new cup, I'd better feed the dogs. I open the refrigerator and find the small Pyrex dish containing boiled chicken breast strips. I spoon two out, shred them into tiny bites, pour some broth over them, and pop them into the microwave for 20 seconds. Then I add a scoop of kibble on top.

Dog breakfast.

Now it's time for coffee.

And time to hit my desk. Writing projects await. Blog posts are due, publicity articles and e-mails for Paul's Players, the community theater group I'm helping my friend get off the ground. There's an idea for an essay I keep meaning to explore - (The Blessed Bean-My Love Affair With Coffee).

I pour a fresh cup of said Blessed Bean, and start off toward my writing room. On the way, I notice the pile of laundry I meant to throw in the washer before heading out on the walk. I really need that sweater washed, because I want to wear it tomorrow. It won't take long to do that, so I gather it up and head downstairs to the laundry room.

On my way back up, I spy the canvas bag of books I meant to go through to determine which ones to donate to the library book sale. Those need to be dropped off later today. I settle onto the little couch at the bottom of the basement stairs and paw through the stack. There's a copy of Jonathan Franzen's The Corrections - I didn't know I had that! I don't think I ever read that! I open the cover and read a few pages. Nope, not one bit familiar, but pretty good. I'd better keep this one for a while.

The washing machine beeps. Could that laundry be done already? How long have I been sitting here?

You've got to get back started on that writing, I tell myself.

Quit putting it off and get busy.

 How about you? Do you find lots of ways to put writing off? How do you get yourself into gear? Check out this week's Write On Wednesday to see what did the trick for me.

Sweet Spot

When I recently decided to return to my handbell group for a "limited engagement," I was a little bit anxious about what my bell assignment would be. If you're not familiar with handbells, they're actually set up like a piano keyboard in which each player is assigned a certain number of bells which correspond to notes on the page. I've played in enough positions to feel comfortable with almost any of them (except the big bass bells, which are physically more than I can handle). But there are a few places on the bell table where I'm much more sure of myself than others. So when the director contacted me and said she'd like to assign me to the E and F (6) position, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. That position was where I first learned to play four-in-hand (the technique of holding two handbells in each hand and playing them simultaneously) and where I played for the majority of my years in bell choirs.

That's my sweet spot.

You all have those spots, don't you? Places in your work that you feel so comfortable because you know what you're doing, know how to work around the kinks, know what the pitfalls are, and have so much experience in this one area that you could write a book about it.

When you're in the sweet spot, you have confidence in your ability, you can rise to greater levels of achievement because you've mastered the basics.

You can have a lot more fun.

So for the past couple of weeks, I've been reveling in the sweet spot in more ways than one. Music lifts my spirits like nothing else can. This morning, even though we'd had a long weekend of extra rehearsals, it felt so good to be playing again, to be thinking about music and all the little nuances that elevate a performance from good to great. It took my mind off all the other not-so-sweet things that have been dragging me down lately. And it provided me with a surge of inspiration to tackle a writing project I've been procrastinating, an added and much appreciated side benefit.

I also realized that playing music makes me feel more like ME than anything else I do. I think music itself is my own personal sweet spot in life - the area where I'm most comfortable, where I feel the most confidence in my abilities, where I have the most fun. As much as I love to write, I don't always feel that way when confronted with the blank page.

I suspect we'd all be a lot happier, more productive individuals if we could spend more time in our sweet spots.

I know I would.

How about you? What's your sweet spot in life? Do you get to spend enough time there?

Let's Start Over, OK?

Remember when I wrote about our New Year's Eve pizza bonanza, and my idea that getting all that unexpected free pizza was a sign that 2012 would bring us "more than we expected" in other ways? Well, it has.

But not necessarily in a good way.

Sure, the weather has been delightful instead of frightful. But that's about all I can say.

Last night at choir rehearsal I learned another friend had been diagnosed with advanced breast cancer, while another had suffered a serious mental collapse, and a third was in the hospital following a possible "brain bleed." My mental worry list has now stretched even farther across my brain, adding these folks to my heightened concerns about my dad, and my sadness over the impending death of my neighbor.

When we came home from rehearsal, I went outside with the dogs. It finally turned cold and blustery, and I was trying to hurry them inside. As I followed them through the back door, I tripped over my own toes and went sprawling on my face, landing my entire weight <crack> on the bridge of my nose.

And in case you ever wondered - yes, you do see stars.

And yes, there is an obvious, tiny broken spot just south of the bridge.

I'd like to start January over, please. I'm declaring this National Do Over week. Let's do the Etch-A-Sketch trick, shake up the past two weeks, and erase them so we can start again with more positive experiences this time around.

Anybody with me?

How about you? Has your year so far been delightful or frightful?

The bright spot in an otherwise troubling month? Seeing this little face pop up almost daily in my in-box: