celebrating strong female characters and whatever else strikes my fancy
As I watch the clock countdown to November 1 and the start of NaNoWriMo, I am a jumble of excitement and trepidation. Writing a 50,000 word draft in a month is the writing equivalent of the Indy 500, where we have to keep the car on the track and avoid hitting a wall and crashing. In a writer’s world, a wall is usually less about exhaustion (though that can happen, certainly) and more about the inner critic that nags and complains and tells us our stories are stupid and no one will ever read them.
Sometimes we hit a wall when our characters veer the story into a ditch, leaving us scratching our heads and wondering where the tow truck is. How do we get the story back on track? Many NaNo’ers do a lot of prep work ahead of time to keep their stories on the road: outlines, detailed plots, character sheets, etc. I don’t do anything beyond a loose outline because I’m a “pantser,” or one who flies by the seat of her pants when writing. The good news is, I have fun when my characters surprise me. The bad news is, they’re often lousy drivers, with the local tow truck driver just shaking his head and saying, “You again?” The finished stories have stories of their own, with plenty of skid marks and discarded words, paragraphs, pages, even whole chapters that get thrown out of the window and littered onto the ground. When I ride with my characters, I have to remember to take my dramamine along, because they don’t care that I’m carsick.
I hear that some people are planning to put their works in progress onto Smashwords to get feedback from people. To me, that’s giving a kid a car before he or she has had driver’s ed. To each her own, I guess, but I’m not letting my characters take anyone else in the car until I’m sure they know how to drive. I’m just sayin’.
The best part of NaNoWriMo is the camaraderie among the thousands who do it each year. Most of us writers slog along with a certain level of isolation. Family and friends often don’t care how we’re going to rewrite our beginning or get Greg and Marsha together at the end when he’s in a coma from his latest drunken car wreck. I can be disconsolate when a character dies, and there’s no one to come over with a tuna casserole or to sit shiva with me while I grieve. During NaNo, since all the other participants are having similar experiences, we can talk to each other. Groups get together to have “word wars” and other games to keep the juices flowing. This weekend we have a kick-off party, and I hear there will be lots and lots of brownies! It’s one month out of the year when a writer is never alone or lonely.
To my fellow NaNo’ers: Good luck! Ladies and gentlemen, start your engines! See you at the end when that checkered flag comes down on November 30!
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Now, since it’s Thursday, I want to pass along my weekly blog recommendation. I can’t believe I haven’t told you about this one before, because it’s one of my favorites. If you haven’t met Totsymae, it’s high time you did so.
Totsymae is a writer and artist with plenty of common sense and folksy wisdom to share. Whether traveling, offering insights on dating, or ruminating on politics, Totsymae observes the world in a way that many of us do, but she explains it in a way many of us can’t. Reading her blog, I’m often smiling and nodding my head. First I say, “Yep, yep,” and then “Why didn’t I think of that?”
In this visual world that we live in, Totsymae adds value to her blog through her colorful illustrations. Take a look! You won’t ever be bored.
My grandmother had a sewing shop in her home where a front porch used to be. When I visited her, we would chat while she worked, making clothes for people all over Illinois. She hand-sewed all zippers with tiny, even stitches, patiently ripping out her work if she made a mistake. Her attention to craft, while still listening patiently to the babblings of a little girl, influenced me in ways I cannot begin to measure.
I would often take spare fabric and thread and play with it. One day I chose a white satin with matching thread, and I made myself a little hat. When I put it on I felt elegant, chic, and pretty. I’m sure it was a mess, but Grandma never criticized my childish efforts. She understood that I was experimenting, defining myself in a form of dress-up.
We went out on an errand that evening, and of course, I wore my hat, grinning with pride as we walked up and down aisles. Then we met with one of my aunts, who took one look at my lovely self with its perfect little hat — and started laughing.
In an instant, my sense of glamour was shattered. I saw the hat as it truly was, amateurish and poorly made.
Fast-forward about 40 years. My husband has written a play, “Shelter in Place,” about life in the sandwich generation. We have come to refer to it often as we struggle to redefine ourselves in our fifties. We look at all the things we do “because we’ve always done them,” and are breaking out of our self-imposed, limiting boxes. Where do we want to live? Why are we going to synagogue services when we’re not religious? What if we show our children how to live their dreams by living our own?
I guess I’m saying that I’ve been pretty good at this reinvention stuff, but the other night I got caught off-guard.
It was a simple thing, really. It was just a hat. I seldom wear them, and when I do, they tend to be baseball caps to keep the sun off my nose when I walk. But I saw the cutest little hat in a boutique on 13th Street, not far from Union Square. It reminded me of Barbra Streisand in her What’s Up, Doc? days. Here’s a photo of the hat. My hair is longer these days, so I thought, why not put it on? I did, and for a moment I felt like Barbra. Well, I have no idea how it feels to be Barbra, but you know what I mean. I felt creative, alive, beautiful. For a moment I looked on the outside like I feel on the inside — funky, fun, and artistic.
I should explain that I am a practical woman. From childhood, I felt uncomfortable about frilly and unnecessary things to wear, opting instead for what I needed. The result is that my dress is simple and plain, using combinations that mix and match. Why buy a hat? What on earth would I need it for?
And yet I did. Something in my soul said, you look more like you in this hat. I showed it to my husband. “Well, that’s different,” he said. I showed it to my stepdaughter. “Well, that’s different,” she said.
I was crushed yet again. Somehow no one saw what I saw when I looked in the mirror. Then I did something really stupid. I put the hat back. I stayed in my little practical box, the box without frills, the plain box, the box that doesn’t draw attention to itself.
I cried about that stupid hat this morning. I cried for all the times I put aside pieces of myself because I perceived disapproval. I cried for not understanding that I’m worth spending $24 to feel like Barbra Streisand. I cried for the little girl who thought her white satin hat was ugly, when in fact it was an honest effort by someone who was learning — that the little satin hat had its own beauty in the love and joy that went into making it. I cried because I miss the grandmother who accepted me totally and thought everything I did was brilliant. I cried for all the women who, in some way or form, let someone else define them. And I cried because I’m 52 and going through menopause, and I can’t accept living in that tight little plain box anymore.
My husband, who actually did love the hat on me (he told me so this morning), said calmly, “Looks like it’s time to make a few more changes.” He understands. He’s going through this, too, and he knows that sometimes it’s more than a hat. Looks like I’m going shopping soon!
Day five into my Yoga Journal cleanse, I’m excited about the process. Overall I have felt energized, and not hungry at all. Yesterday I started to get sick of kitchari, but I can hang in there for a few more days.
As I’ve mentioned, we’ve been cleaning out our house, too, and that feels good. A huge stack sits in the front of the den, waiting to be donated tomorrow. Rooting through the “stuff,” we find treasures and memories. Stories emerge. We both feel lighter, happier.
Certainly, resting and cleansing can bring up a lot of old, stuck emotions, but as we pass through them and get to the other side, we find new ideas and make new plans. Life starts to look shiny and new again. This month, we will explore “lightness.” Part of me says, “uh oh,” because I’m a fairly intense, serious individual…but maybe because of the cleansing and cleaning, I feel more ready to play.
This morning I spent some time in the garden. The Texas drought destroyed a good bit of my vegetables and even some native plants that were supposed to withstand the lack of rain. A few days ago, a front moved through and at least brought the heat down — our highs are now in the upper 80s, and the air is dryer. The mornings feel downright pleasant!
Anyway, as I wandered the garden, using stored rainwater to give the plants a drink, I saw signs of hope. A tiny new strawberry leaf here, carrot seedlings there, and even a re-emergence of the salvia that looked hopelessly dead. New peppers have appeared, and the sage is blossoming again. It doesn’t take much relief for plants to start coming back!
After a long, difficult summer, change is in the air, healing change. No, the drought isn’t over — it may go on for years, the forecasters tell us — but we are getting a bit of a respite. I’m sick of the drought and sick of kitchari, but hope emerges. The cleanse will end, the heat will lessen, and a glorious season is around the corner. I can hang in there a little while longer.
September is waning, though with a forecast high of 95 degrees, it’s not feeling like fall just yet. We comfort ourselves by planning some upcoming trips: New York and Tucson in November, and Port Townsend, Washington, in December. The trip to Washington, scheduled for the week of my birthday, will give us an opportunity to explore the area with the intention of possibly moving there. It feels as though big changes are ahead.
As I’ve already mentioned, we’ve already begun the process of cleaning the house. Since this is a Major Life Change, I also think it’s a good time to clean out my body, mind, and heart. It’s time for a physical cleanse.
You may ask, what’s that?
Simply put, cleansing involves eating less and eliminating processed and allergenic foods in order to give the digestive system a chance to rest. We remove foods that tax the liver, pancreas, and other organs, and instead provide nourishment that quiets us physically, mentally, and emotionally.
Why cleanse? We live in a toxic world. Processed or junk foods, pollutants, alcohol, etc., can drag us down, leaving us with low energy and health problems. Periodic cleansing can help us feel better. Doctors disagree as to how much we can actually detox in a few weeks, but most agree that a cleanse, at the very least, creates a “reset” for our system. Often after the cleanse ends, we continue with better food habits for a time, and the new habits we learn give us sustained health and well-being.
During a time of cleansing we may meditate or relax more, or even do some exercises to identify aspects of our life that we can release. Cleanses can provide profound opportunities for spiritual growth. I’ve included it in our “relax, renew and flow” September because it fits in well with the subject matter we’ve explored this month.
When is the best time to cleanse? Well, we’ve all heard about spring cleaning, but ideally, we spend some time at or near the change of seasons. We can also cleanse if we’re considering a Major Life Change, whether it’s moving, marriage, divorce, or career change. We can even do short cleanses of three days or so if we’re just feeling sluggish. If we cleanse in a safe manner, we can do something whenever the time is right.
How do we cleanse? Unfortunately, for some, cleansing involves a period of fasting. I do not recommend this, and I feel distressed when I see people with health issues doing unsupervised fasts. This can be dangerous! When I hear them say, “Wow, I’m really cleansing! I had a horrible headache today!” I want to say, “Duh! You’re blood sugar has dropped too low. Go eat something!”
Instead, I suggest opting for cleanses that involve eating light, non-allergenic food. We will eat less, but not skip eating altogether. For example, last summer I did the Colorado Cleanse. Dr. John Douillard, author of the book of the same name, is offering a two-week fall cleanse beginning October 11. The cleanse starts with a pre-cleanse diet, then moves into a period of time where we eat kitchari (rice, mung beans, and spices), and then move into a post-cleanse diet. Certain supplements are suggested to support the cleanse. I had to add whey protein powder to each meal to keep my blood sugar level, and occasionally an apple here and there.
This time I have opted for Yoga Journal’s Seven-Day Fall Detox. It includes porridge and kitchari in the diet, daily yoga sequences to support the cleanse, certain Ayurvedic herbs, and guided meditations. Since I’m starting on Thursday, I’ll report my results next week, but it appears safe and nourishing.
Another safe program is through Standard Process. The company prefers that you work with a health provider familiar with Standard Process, but it involves a special whey protein supplement and a gentle, healthful diet to keep you energized.
The main thing to remember when cleansing is to keep the blood sugar level. If you’re feeling hungry, cranky, or listless, add some protein or other non-allergenic food. Apples are great! Hunger, low energy, or any other suffering is an indication that your body needs more food. Ideally, a good cleanse brings a sense of delight, not deprivation.
As the body moves into the cleanse, we may feel emotions come to the surface, or remember dreams we had forgotten. We may get guidance or a sense of direction for our path. Keeping a journal, finding time to be quiet or in nature, or getting some pampering (a nice massage during a cleanse does wonders) can support new insights to bubble up.
I invite you to give cleansing a try!
Here I am, about to post a blog about handling disappointment, when people I know have had to leave their homes due to the wildfires in Texas. In this case it’s appropriate, because they are finding resilience and leaning on others near their area to get through. I dedicate this post with great honor to those who still struggle not knowing if their homes and businesses will survive this tragedy. My thoughts and prayers are with you during this devastating, painful time. I think that for today I will skip posting Switzerland photos. I’ll offer more tomorrow…but for today, out of respect to those caught in the fire, I will have a photo-free post. Please, if you’re reading this, take a moment of silence for those who are suffering. If you pray, please pray for them. Thank you!
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Last week I wrote about the many ways that our dreams can turn into nightmares. We find ourselves struggling to get started or have unexpected obstacles block us. In some cases, we lose our dreams altogether. I am well aware, for example, that many people are unable to travel in the way that I can, either due to physical problems or financial losses. Many of our fellow American brothers an sisters are dealing with long-term unemployment and a disappearing job market. It may feel too painful even to dream at this point. So what do we do when that happens? How do we keep the faith in ourselves and in our personal callings? And who am I to think I might have a solution to offer? After all, I have a pretty cushy life.
Here, in brief, is the reality of my life: I have been married three times. My first marriage was brief and, at times, abusive. My second marriage, though much more pleasant, fell apart in large degree after we lost two babies and were unable to have more children. In the midst of all that, I had a long-term, chronic illness, and our finances went south. While in the worst of my illness, I lost my ability to concentrate, let alone write. I wondered if I had squandered my talent and if I would never be able to write again.
In the midst of this long, deep, dark night of the soul, I had a revelation. I realized that I could still be happy, no matter what had been given to me. I didn’t know what that meant at the time, but I undertook to find out.
Discouragement can hurt. We may be willing and able to go for our dreams, but we struggle to start or get stuck somewhere in the process. Either we don’t know enough about our craft, or we get scared. Here are some tips that may help:
What if a dream has ended for good? Well, the first question is, is that absolutely true? I wanted to be a mother but couldn’t have children, and yet I ended up with two stepchildren that are two of the joys of my life. Had I children of my own, I may never have met them. Sometimes, as they say, “God’s delays are not God’s denials.” Of course, some days this can also come under the heading of, “Be careful what you wish for — you just might get it!” (Kidding, kiddos)
If it is true, is there some way you could have the essence of your dream? I always had the itchy feet to travel but never much money to do so. Back in those days, I learned to travel internally through meditation, breathwork, and writing. I learned to be fascinated with the world within. When I could, I traveled locally, making day trips to small towns accessible by car. I read books — again, the library is a great resource — and traveled to other worlds that authors made for me.
Health matters are tough, too. One night my doctor told my support group: “Part of your healing may be to accept that you may never be well.” That sentence shocked me at first. I had to think about it. She wasn’t saying that I would stop trying to heal my body. She was saying I could have a good life in spite of my health. She was right.
One of the symptoms of my illness was an inability to concentrate. I learned that if I drew a picture of what I was reading, it would stay in my head better. I discovered that I could do certain activities in 15-minute increments. It wasn’t much, but each little nugget of success cheered me. I worked hard on my health, filling my body with nutrition and self-care. I slowed my life down, and in the process I learned to listen better to what I needed for myself. That’s when I began to heal. Even now, years later, I have to be careful. I overdid it one day with a personal trainer and got knocked out with a “crash” for nearly two weeks. Most of the time, though, I judge well when I need to rest.
When you are struggling and have physical limits, it may be hard to look around at what you do have — but if you look hard enough, there’s real beauty all around you. Springtime flowers, summer warmth, a home that provides shelter, loved ones — even the beauty of your very breath. If you can find a way, even in the darkest moments, to find or create beauty, then your discouragement will lessen.
May you find the path through your discouragement! I hope all of you find some way to live your dreams.