Monday Musings

This is therapy, my friends.

A cold cocktail....

swimming with my girls...

surprising the baby....

having dinner with my hubs...

sitting under the Sycamore.

Getting emails from friends.  Reading great things like this:

We are moving this week (!) to our new apartment at the other end of the building.  Thursday will be here but quick.  I am trying to accept that craziness will reign that day and there is nothing I can do about it but take deep breaths and look forward to a sweeter, brighter, larger place to live in.

Short vacations are a'coming:  up to Washington to spend a few nights with family on Steamboat Island in July.  Carmel Valley in August to reunite with friends and stay at the zen center at Tassajara for a couple of nights.  Hubs has never been there, and it is a must see for that very reason.  I haven't been for a few years, and though previous trips have found me staying in hot little wood cabins, this season I am springing for something more deluxe which will be cooler to sleep in.  Get ready for some great vegetarian food, my love.  I look forward to the witnessing the frantic line of people standing outside the dining hall for dinner.  It's dog eat dog at this retreat that is supposed to center us and calm us.  We'll stand back and saunter in at the end, grab whatever seating is available.  We've got this communal dining thing down now.

What are you doing for therapy? 

Wordless Wednesday (Friends)

Monday Musings

I have been doing a daily music thing on Facebook, wherein you post LPs that are a big part of your musical history and influence.  When first nominated, I thought, "Oh bother..." but I have thoroughly enjoyed this musical journey. 

You know how certain smells can take you back in time?  Well, for me it is the same with music.  I suspect that many people feel this way.  Music transcends time, gets to a specific part of our brain that knows no time.

These the tunes of my early life.  Formative.  Affirming.  

Of course there was new music later in life, as I'm always curious and open to new 'sounds.'  Even hip-hop and rap provide inspiration at times.  "Girl" bands, like The Clicks, shot adrenaline into my bloodstream when I was in my 50s; the Indigo Girls rocked my world in my 40s.  Artists like Janis Ian came back on the scene and sparked my imagination once again.  My husband re-introduced me to classical music (he is a fan, and very knowledgeable) at a much deeper level than I had known before. 

Our new home provides even more avenues for music appreciation: we have regular concerts of every genre.  Last week we saw a group called "Horns A Plenty" which blew me away.  Look them up on YouTube.  They are great.

In these times of the utmost cray-cray and craven politics, let music be your balm, your inspiration and the fire that gets you marching in the streets.  I'm thinking of the music of Les Miserables.  The Song of Angry Men.  To the ramparts!

TGIF

via GIPHY


I've got a splitting headache from (I assume) my neck being "out."  I had a great and deep massage yesterday to help it, which it did for several  hours.  Now I'm back in ouchy mode, big time.

So, between THAT and the news out of D.C., I am a freakin' mess.  That is all.  Try and have a good weekend.

Over and OUT.

Monday Musings

I am pleased to report that I had a wonderfully enjoyable birthday yesterday.  I am gobsmacked that a year has passed since my lovely party in our garden to celebrate my 60th.  That was a lifetime highlight and something I will always (hopefully) remember.  I felt completely loved by family and friends and the warm cocoon of community lasted a very long time.

Yesterday I began by taking a very leisurely swim and then a soak in the spa.  After wards, cleaned and blow-dried, I took the dogs for a long walk down a path I haven't been on before.  It led to a park that was a complete surprise to me!  A swimming pool, tennis courts, a fitness circuit, athletic fields and plenty of lush green grass for the pups to run on.  Following that outing, the  hubs and I had brunch with a couple of neighbors, completely by accident.  We have a thing  here wherein you can tell the maitre d' if you'd like to share your table with other residents.  So, they ask when you come in if you'd like to share a table.  We said "yes" and joined a couple of friends who have been here 16 years and 10 years.  They were fun and interesting and we had a lively  meal with them.  We walked away commenting on how fun it is to live here and meet all these fascinating people.

In the afternoon I hauled a couple of lawn chairs out to the common area and had a nice read under the sprawling Sycamore.  I brought two chairs just in case a neighbor would like to join me.  No one did, but our next door neighbor said it was a grand idea, and she'd never seen anyone do it.    I'll keep doing it -- maybe I'll start a thing, and more people will bring their chairs out off of their porches and balconies.  It's just so nice under the trees, with the soft squishy grass between my toes and the abundant bird song.

And lastly, we had dinner out with family.  A fun time, but the grandchildren were tired from their busy weekend and practically fell asleep at the table.  One turns 13 this week, and the other is now 15.  Both thoroughly delightful people, who have (at their young age) such substance.  Truly dancing to the beat of their own drummers.  I sat next to my step-daughter, who was intrigued by my new Apple Watch, and observed as I texted my daughter on the device.  The jury is still out on whether or not this watch is worth it, but I'm giving it a shot.  I can track my heart rate on it which was the main motivation.

A big shout out to my friends who contributed to my birthday fundraiser for the American Diabetes Association.  They exceeded my goal, and I am grateful.  This was a Facebook thing, and it's a great way to celebrate a birthday.  At this point in my life I don't need any more "stuff."  So I like to see my friends gift me a donation to one of my favorite causes.  Everybody wins!

Also a grateful acknowledgement to my dear husband, who let me know often yesterday, how much he loves me.  It's the best feeling in the world to be so well loved.

A very good birthday.  A very good life.  Despite the hiccups (see last Friday's post). 

I hope  you  have a good week, and that you practice kindness and compassion, especially to yourself.

TGIF

Howdy Friends.  A helluva week, I tell you.  Get thee to a retreat.  A 'health spa' if you will.  Somewhere where people will feed me excellent food that will nourish and restore me.  I want someone to lay hands on me and massage my muscles into oblivion.  Someplace I may cry freely without reproach.  Wash me clean.  Soak me in mud baths and wash me clean once again.

I am awash in self pity and I don't want to be.  I have some heart issues going on.  They don't pose any immediate danger, but they are troublesome and require additional investigation and probably medication to stabilize my heart's irregular beating.

All discovered on an EKG that my doc did when I went in for my persistent cough and chest cold.  He packed me off to a (very nice and approachable) Cardiologist.  Cardi says that alcohol and caffeine exacerbate the problem so I should cut down and cut out these substances.

Want to know one of the weird things?  She looked back on EKG history and says these issues have been going on for 5 years, just not to this degree.  So, I have withstood the test of time my friends.  I have know about my PVC condition but was told it was nothing to be concerned about.  Premature Ventricular Contractions are common, especially as we age, and are pretty benign when they occur on occasion.  Mine happened so rarely that it took many EKG to finally see one.  My latest two EKG show them happening all the time, sometimes right on top of one another.

I have an echo cardiogram scheduled, and a monitor which requires wearing for 24 hours to continuously monitor.  Trying to see the frequency of the PVC.  I reassure myself that this isn't critical, since testing is many weeks out and another appointment with cardiologist is in August.  In the meantime, I am trying not to borrow trouble, but this is troubling.  I fucking hate this.

In the meantime....we ventured into San Francisco yesterday with some new friends.  We took our favorite trip on the Vallejo Ferry and grabbed a Lyft ride to Aliotto's restaurant on Fisherman's wharf.

Bye Bye, you crazy city

I ate an anniversary lunch of sorts.  Seven years ago I sat in this same restaurant, in a very different phase of my life. I was drinking a gin martini (as if there is any other kind) and eating Oysters Rockefeller for the very first time.  It was a memorable day for many reasons, and I was on the cusp of great change.  Little did I understand it at the time.  I wanted to go back and recreate the  meal (yes, martini and all) to mark and celebrate the good choices I've made since then.  (Perhaps the martini wasn't a good choice yesterday, but dammit.)  It felt marvelous being there with my husband and a couple of new friends.  A sort of "Look, Ma!" moment.  The weather was breezy and a tad chilly, but the sun was out and we were happy.  Put that in your memory cache.

Then, and then, this morning, the second suicide this week of another famous celebrity.  I actually cried.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe because he was my age.  She was close to my age.  Maybe because it seemed they had so much good going on, so much to live for.  I just heard the stats on increasing suicides for middle aged people in this country.  It's been climbing for more than a decade.

I have friends who may be 'triggered' by these deaths, just as the increased number of suicides after Robin Williams took his life.  I worry about them.  I'm reaching out.  We are all so fragile and near the edge of a desperate decision.  A permanent solution to a temporary problem, they say.  But the thing is, many people who commit suicide have been in their 'temporary problem' for an unbearable amount of time, and are never fully free of it.  All they want is the pain to end.

So, bless them, perhaps they are now at peace.  They've left a enormous gash of grief for others to bear now.  Anger wells up in me for their 'selfishness' but I also know that the act goes beyond any such categorization. 

So, wow, yeah.  How about that week?  I'm going to be kind to myself today.  I'm going to do something for someone else today.

And I'm going to get on line and look at some spa retreats, because I can.  Because I'm bleedin' lucky enough to be able to do this.  I know this.

Be kind to yourself today, and if moved, share with me what you did for your body and soul.

Adieu.

Wordless Wednesday

Mono Lake, CA

Monday Musings

Not a pretty post today.  It's Memorial Day and I can't help but grieve the sickening loss of life over the centuries.  How many of these wars were necessary?  Some were, you could argue.   We are such stupid creatures.  And evil.  Don't forget the evil.

There is a stunningly depressing article in the NYT about austerity in England.  The wealthy in that country, like our country, are not really acting in their long term self interests.  After they have bled the people dry, the people will rise up against the rulers.  Or, will the people be duped into 'patriotism' by another war.  Sound familiar?  It is the one big history lesson that we (the world, here) never learn:

Don't. Fucking. Oppress.  People.

It will bite you in the ass later on, sometime, somewhere.  Not to mention it's just plain immoral.  Like the U.S., England has given huge tax breaks to corporations, while cutting social services to the bone.  In some cases eliminating them.  Public libraries, parks, firehouses and police stations -- gone.  Poof.  Gee, no repercussions there, eh? 

Now that I have you thoroughly disgusted (whether or not you agree), I'm going to sign off with this lovely photo from 2 years ago.  Love is the only thing getting me through.  How about you?

Steve Barbour

TGIF

Interesting stuff going down this week: 

Weinstein is finally formally charged with rape.

Phillip Roth is dead.  Crap.

The NFL is muzzling free speech for its players.  Will they get away with it?

I'm still -- slowly -- reading Here on the Edge, about the internment camp for contentious objectors on the Oregon coast.

I'm still -- slowly -- getting over my 3 week cold.  Coughing fits are occurring less often.  My appetite has come roaring back (boo).

Our High School Marching band is going to be performing in our neighbor later this afternoon.  I'll try and get some photos to share.

Living Room

The remodel on our new apartment is coming along.  We were showing it off last night to friends who had come for dinner.  The cabinets for the kitchen and baths are gorgeous -- well worth the expense, given that we will be living there for at least a decade (gulp!).  The place has been gutted, much to the surprise of our friends.  Oh yes, when they do a remodel they really do it.   It's fun to watch it get deconstructed and re-made according to our plans.  And it will be great when it is done and we can move in.  I'm really tired of living with unpacked boxes stacked in every room.

Guest bath (deep tub!)

Guest bedroom/office

I'm excited for the future in our new nest.  Our living room looks out on the rose garden.  We are right on the little road (10 mph) but above ground level just enough to give us some privacy.  Cloth shades that we move from above or below will complete the privacy picture, while still letting in ample light.  The hubs will have his own small office, and I have carved out a closet in the guest bedroom for my office.  They are making it into an alcove since there is another clothes closet in the room.  It will suit me just fine.

We also had dinner this week with a couple who live here whom we've wanted to get to know.  He is a photographer and she is a painter (oils).  Both serious artists whose body of work is substantial.  Each have had shows in San Francisco, where they used to live.  They have a great retirement story:  when they did it, they moved out of their house, put everything in storage, and traveled the world for nine whole months.  Imagine!  It's tempting (if we could take the dogs).  Hop on a cruise line and go.

Salut!

Monday Musings

The Second Amendment of the United States Constitution reads: "A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."

I'm just going to say it:  We must do away with the second amendment.  

I'm done with half measures.  I'm done with the "yes, but...." arguments.  Done. Done. Done.  I don't care if you need your guns to protect your farm stock.  I don't care if you live in a rough neighborhood where you feel you need protection.

We have abdicated our "right" to carry personal guns.  Personal guns will not save us from a government take over.  Guns will not save significant numbers of live stock.  Guns are only killing our children, and our women, at alarming rates.  When you have more children killed by guns than military personnel servicing in the armed forces in a single year, that is reckless, murderous, immoral.

Your arguments are going to fall on my deaf ears from now on.  I won't even entertain the logic you espouse.  Even for a second.

You obviously care more about your right to have a gun than you care about the lives of our citizens.  It really is as simple as that.

The NRA should be branded a terrorist organization. Our congress should be branded as enablers and abettors of mass murder.  They care more about money in their campaign coffers than they do about the lives of our citizens.  Shame on them.

If you disagree, that's your right.  But I don't want to  hear about it.

TGIF

I have been very sick for two weeks.  Today is markedly better: sinuses flowing, lungs more clear, ears don't ache and I have more energy.  Finally.  Though not having any fever, the last 3 nights have been filled with fantastical fever dreams.  The first two nights brought nightmares, but last night an inspirational dream that goes like this:

I’ve been levitating for a long time – years.  Here and there.  Always when by myself.  I get a tingle of energy in my legs and arms first, and command myself to rise and it happens.  I rise effortlessly, free from the constraints of earthly gravity.  I start off slowly, then build my confidence and rise even higher, to the ceiling, around the rafters, from corner to corner.  I summersault mid air or speed into a streamlined path straight across a vast space, turning from the wall at the last minute.  I can’t explain it.    I don’t know why, I just do it.  It’s safer and I’m more peaceful performing this in doors.  But I have also done it in wide open spaces out of doors.  It’s just more risky out there: the limitless sky calling to me, held back only by the  fear that I could fall from great heights.

Yesterday, however, people were visiting.  Neighbors, acquaintances, no one of any consequence, really.  I started to rise, almost caught myself in self-consciousness, then decided “what the  heck” and continued to rise, astonishing my guests.  I nonchalantly told them this was normal, and then demonstrated some of my more flamboyant moves.  I looked down at the four people, mouths agape, eyes popped wide open, and I felt a surge of pride at my special talent to inspire and amaze.

Later in the day, I opened the mail and read that I had won an essay contest.  I had written an  article on the life and times of two great people who spent their lives in social justice movements, each coming at their work from different viewpoints, but each valid and effective.  We don’t  have to see things the same way in order to accomplish common goals.  We can dance to the beat of our own drummer and do what moves us at our core. 

The prize for this contest was $250,000 and an invitation to speak at the Lotus Convention in Singapore.  I was thunderstruck, immediately calling a few friends to spread the news!  “I will be joining world leaders in peace work, human rights, and spiritual practice.  We will devise a curriculum for the conference, and facilitate workshops for thousands of people!”  The prize, the money, the opportunity for teaching, all represented the ultimate in freedom for me.  The freedom to move about, unencumbered, to fulfill my passion, to spread knowledge and yes, joy, to others.

It was within this state of bliss that I began to rise in the air, out of doors, suddenly aware of bright orbs in the bright blue sky, and a large gathering of people below.  The orbs were burning bright and slowly separating into five round suns in a sky streaked with rainbows and luminous rays of light from each sun as they moved to their positions in the sky.  I shouted out, “What is this?!  Five suns?!”  and from below came shouts of “It is the day of enlightenment, when the five suns appear, it was foretold!” 

“Is this because of me?  Is this what I was meant for?  To be an instrument in the enlightenment?”  It all sounded pretty insane, let me tell you.  It was happening before my eyes, and yet how could it be?  Was I experiencing a massive delusion or could this really be?

It was like a fever dream, yet it was real.  How could anything be ‘normal’ again?  What kind of life would I live from this point on?

A ceremony was held to anoint me.  Men in silk robes placed jewelry on my arms and hands:  a bright green stone that sparkled like the night sky was my favorite, and my choice.  That, and only that, was the jewelry I would wear.  I was dizzy with excitement, and understood that this was a runaway train that could carry me far from home if I were not mindful and deliberate in my actins to remain humble at my core.  Frequently the downfall of great leaders, I would endeavor to wrestle with my pride.  It was essential to my mission to keep myself free of corrupt influences, both material and spiritual.

The choices were simple, really.  What else could I want, other than what had been given?  I had the gift of enlightenment, and required nothing else but to spread that joy to all who wanted it.  It is possible to experience joy on earth, in this very body, with simple (perhaps meager) accoutrement. 

That is the plan.

Wild, or what?  I woke up energized.  I woke up wondering if I was going a bit nuts.  I woke up half way believing I could fly.  Then I laughed and rose to start my day.

Happy Friday to you!  We can be inspirational without the gift of flight.  But wouldn't it be fun?