As the World Turns

I always liked the title of that soap opera, even though I never watched it (I was a fan of the ABC soaps, back in the day, particularly All My Children).  There was something comforting about an image of the world turning slowly, day by day, inexorably completing its orbit, heedless of the machinations and peregrinations of all the inhabitants below. A conversation at lunch today called that phrase to mind.  One of my co-workers was discussing the vagaries of female hormones, particularly those of the female in her early 40's, on the cusp of that thing the docs are now calling "perimenopause."

"I swear," she said, "sometimes I feel like a totally different person.  My emotions are completely out of control, and I don't think I can stand it!"

Her words recalled my own experience of those days, when I often literally felt as if an alien demon had invaded my body and was about to make me do despicable things like murder my husband or run my car off a cliff.  As I relayed some of those memories to her, I realized how good it felt to have that all behind me.  I also realized how those years of unpredictable "bad days" had simply vanished without fanfare, as if I had crossed some miraculous finish line in a marathon from hell.

When I came home, my husband told me about a meeting he had today with his former boss, the one he's been doing contract work for pretty steadily over the past six months.  Apparently, there's some rather concrete discussion about hiring him back full time.  As he talked about this plan, I realized how bleak our world had seemed just over a year ago, when practically every area of our lives seemed to be under attack.  His job was gone, mine had changed into something I thought I would hate, we had no tenants for the rental house with the adjustable mortgage,  my uncle and aunt had died leaving me with their estate to clear up...on and on it went.  I thought about those days earlier this evening, when I read my son's blog and learned about some very upsetting events in his life this past week, knowing full well the frustration he's feeling right now.

But since those particular bad days of ours, we've adjusted to all the changes, things worked out, and our life is back on an even keel.  We've even allowed ourselves to consider that maybe Jim doesn't  need to go back to work full time, that this new arrangement is actually working out quite well after all.  Who would have believed it?  Not I.

The old world DOES turn, and sometimes we face the darkness but inevitably we come round to the light.

It's good to be in the light again...I wish the same for all of you :)

The Longest Day of the Year

It's definitely a gift to have a 25 hour day, even though technically we're just getting paid back the hour we lost last April when Daylight Savings Time went into effect.  Still, I always feel as if I've been granted that most supreme of all gifts - more TIME.

When my son was little, he looked forward to this day with the delight reserved only for Christmas and birthdays.  A child always filled with plans and ideas, there were never enough hours in his weekends to complete all the things he wanted to do.   He would awake at the crack of dawn on this momentous day, determined to eke every minute possible out of the day with one extra hour in it.

I still love this "fall back" day, even though it gets dark before I've finished putting dinner on the table.  I love looking at my watch and feeling pleasantly surprised by how early it is, something that happens with rarer and rarer frequency the older I get.  I love the sense of the day being elongated before me, like taffy pulled until it's thin and stringy.  I love the freedom of an extra hour to spend, like the twenty dollar bill you find crumpled in the pocket of your winter coat.

So what did I do with my extra hour today?  Was it the time I spent walking the dogs on a sunlit, windblown November afternoon?  Or the hour I fiddled around with my husband's new guitar, downloading lessons on Garage Band?  Maybe it was the hour I spent at my friend's church early this morning, playing in a "pickup" handbell ensemble.

Or maybe it's still to come, as I prepare to pour a glass of wine, light a candle, and settle into the corner of the sofa with my book.

Whatever it is (or was) I've been savoring all the hours of this day.  I hope you have too.

How about you?  What did you do with your extra hour today?

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?