Recent reading

I’m back from Florida exhausted, happy, and full of memories old and new.  It was marvelous.

I have never done a link roundup before but have found myself particularly moved by some recent reads, so I thought I’d share them:

Smacksy won my heart with this post about how to win the nickname “Grandpa” at four years old.  I went on to read almost her whole archives, laughing out loud in my office as I did so.

Danielle LaPorte’s words about the Initiated Woman brought tears to my eyes, of both identification and aspiration.

Amanda Magee writes about watching her girls grow, gorgeously invoking that “primal keening” about time’s passage that I think about constantly and ending with a sentence that I felt deep in my chest.

Jen Lee’s posts always move me, but I particularly loved this one about the pull back to gentleness, and about giving ourselves a chance to receive.

Kelly Diels writes, in her incomporable way, of the gifts that fear and loneliness hold, and I find myself nodding, nodding, nodding.

Also, I am reading Carol Edgarian’s upcoming Three Stages of Amazement and ….. wow.  Just, wow.  Extraordinary.

Questions & answers

Thank you for all the well wishes and thoughtful questions!  I really appreciate both.  A lot.

Glenda: After four years “in community” through your blog, do you feel reflecting and exploring themes for the blog have helped you better navigate and enjoy the daily moments of your days? Enhanced living in any way?

I definitely feel that daily writing has helped me zero in on the central questions that matter to me.  And the act of reflecting on my life and sharing stories here – and the thoughtful reactions that I often get – definitely has made me more aware of the joy that hides in the most ordinary moments of my life.  Absolutely this has enhanced my life.

Chris: When did you first admit to yourself that you were not leading the life you wanted? I’m sure there was a general uneasiness for some time. I’m talking about the crossing the Rubicon moment when you realized you had to make a change.

I wish there was a pivotal moment – not only because it’s a good story but because it would act as a fulcrum between then and now.  But there hasn’t been, really – it’s more a gradual realization, which escalated from a vague sense of unease in my chest into a howling roar and a propensity to burst into tears at the slightest thing (which, still, frankly, happens). 

Gale: As for questions, I was intruiged by your comments about BlogHer when you thought people were disappointed when they met you in person. You have a distinct online personality (thoughtful, introspective, honest, intense), but I get the sense that perhaps you seem different in real life. How would people who know you in person (but don’t read your blog) describe you?

This is something I struggle with, because I don’t know that I have a good sense of it.  I’d welcome anyone who DOES know me in real life to chime in here!  (Bouff?) I hope that people who describe me as empathetic and warm, interested in them (I’ve been told I deflect questions about myself), and occasionally funny in spite of myself.  Things I’ve heard before: that I’m much smaller than someone expected (short) once, that I’m goofy, also that I’m much quieter, shyer, less of a leader than someone else had assumed.    

Corinne: What do you order at Starbucks?
Are you a beach or lake person?
Favorite thing about blogging?
Did you ever expect to be where you are now ten years ago?

Venti nonfat latte.  Always!
Beach all the way.
That it makes me write, and has reconnected me with my passion for words.
My life is both exactly as I planned it ten years ago and nothing like I expected. (and that is as good a summary of the book I’m writing as any I can provide)

Christa: What do you want to be when you grow up?

A writer.  This is the easiest question of all.

Sere: I’m wondering if blogging helped you find your voice. Were you writing long before you began blogging? And do you write other things as well? Fiction? Any works in progress?

Absolutely blogging has helped me find my voice.  I had written a lot as a child, in high school, and college, but had drifted away from it.  I do write other things: articles, essays, a memoir in progress, and I have 160 pages of a novel that nobody has ever read a single word of.

Leslie: You mentioned once that you wanted to be a doctor when you were younger (hopefully i’m not mistaken). just curious, how did you diverge into business instead?

I did.  I always thought I’d be a doctor and still nurture dreams of going back to school to become a midwife.  I have tremendous passion for womens’ healthcare, for the crisis that is maternal mortality in the world, and the quest for all women to have positive and supported experiences of pregnancy and birth. 

My road away from that dream was gradual and circuitous.  When I lived in London I had selected my subjects for A-Level (the English educational system requires focus on 3 or 4 subjects for 11th and 12th grade).  Mine were Physics, Biology, Chemistry, and Math.  Instead of pursing that I came back to boarding school and college.  In college I took a lot of science but fell in love with English and majored in that.  (my father would describe the transition from hard sciences to English as “sliding downhill”) How I got from contemplating a PhD in English to a degree in business is a story I’m still untangling.

Ramona: What is your fondest piece of fiction?  What music are listening to right now?

So difficult to pick one piece of fiction!  I can pick a few authors who consistently move me: Elizabeth Strout.  Dani Shapiro.  Louise Erdrich.  Laurie Colwin.

I rarely listen to music other than when I’m driving, but my favorites right now are Brandi Carlile, the Weepies, Eddie Vedder, Ray Lamontagne.

Sarah:  What would you tell your younger self of four years ago if you could?What is the best piece of parenting advice you have received?  What advice would you give to a new parent?  What does it mean to you to be a writer?

I would tell myself to relax and to trust.  I still tell myself that.  I would tell myself that in four years I wouldn’t have anything resembling babies – or even toddlers – anymore, and not to rush it. 

To a new parent I would say, and I do, to forgive yourself if you don’t love every second of it right away.  To know that things go by fast.  It is so easy to turn into cliches here and I try not to do that, but the truth is that message is salient and, for me, the most important one.

I don’t think of myself as a writer, so it’s hard to answer this.  It remains my most cherished and deeply-held dream.

Bruce: If you could ask the cosmos one question and get an unequivocal answer, what might your question be?

Will my children be okay?  I can’t stop thinking of a sentence I read in Brene Brown’s book: “We can’t give our children what we don’t have.”  Here I am so trying to instill confidence, peace, and calm into my children … all the while not having those things myself.  This keeps me up at night.  I want to know that Grace and Whit will grow up happy, healthy, and confident, and that having had me as their mother won’t bring them too much pain and grief.

Alana: What has been your biggest gift from blogging? Your biggest challenge?

The gift has been that I have realized my deep passion for and commitment to writing.  Blogging has reawakened that part of me and for that I am very, very grateful.  The challenge is, I guess, wondering where the border of helpfully candid and far too personal is, as well as starting to feel like I’m hopelessly mired and repeating myself over and over again.

Heather: If you had the chance to change yourself into someone who doesn’t think so much, would you do it? I think about this a lot for myself–so I had to ask!

I think about this all the time too.  I don’t know.  Right now, I’d answer yes, but I intellectually know that I would at other times have said no.

Four years & taking questions

Today is my four year anniversary in this space. Which is amazing, to me.

To mark the date, and because I’m brain dead and slightly heartbroken these days (my beloved Kelly Diels said this {as usual} better than I ever could) I thought I’d follow Corinne’s able lead and ask you if there is anything you want to know. Please share any questions or things you are interested in in the comments – big or small, anything you’d like to hear more about. I am very interested in what you are interested in.

A little meme

I thoroughly enjoyed reading more about Devon‘s life, history, and preferences big and small when she answered the questions in this meme. I was flattered to see myself named as someone she’d be interested in seeing answer them, and so I do so now. Please go check out Devon’s blog – the name alone charmed me: You had me at neurotic. Devon writes brilliantly, and her heartfelt posts delve into where she came from, where she wants to go, and what her experience is like along the way. She loves to read and we love the same books, which is a quick way to my heart.

So, here you go, Devon … as you can see I have a hard time picking one of anything! 🙂

What experience has most shaped you, and why?

My unexpected pregnancy, delivery, and postpartum depression with Grace. The sum of all of my moves back and forth across the Atlantic as a child. Watching my mother’s best friend (and closest thing I had to another mother) die at 49.

If you had a whole day with no commitments, what would you do?

Read, run, write, and putter around my house. Maybe have a glass of wine with one of those friends I love dearly and never have enough time to see.

What food or drink could you never give up?

Diet Coke. White wine. Cheddar cheese. French fries. Swedish fish.

If you could travel anywhere, where would that be and why?

Weirdly, I don’t have a long list here. Maybe Thailand? New Zealand? Egypt? Am hoping my sister and her family help me out by going somewhere exotic on sabbatical soon.

Give me one easy savoury recipe that doesn’t include cheese.

Pigs in a blanket from Costco. Heat in toaster oven. Serve with ketchup and mustard.

What did you think you were going to be when you grew up?

A doctor. Always.

Which woman writer – living or dead – do you most admire and why?

Impossible to name one!

I admire deeply many female poets – Anne Sexton, Maxine Kumin, Adrienne Rich (the three of whom I wrote my thesis on), Sharon Olds, Mary Oliver, Jane Kenyon.

A group of memoirists moved me deeply this spring, when I dove into the genre: Dani Shapiro, Karen Maezen Miller, Katrina Kenison, Glenda Burgess.

And, of course, my idol, icon, personal spiritual advisor (and yes, I realize I am one of millions who feels this way) and all-around sage, Anne Lamott. Anne’s ability to marry humor with wisdom makes hers the single most meaningful voice I’ve read. I adore all of her non-fiction books and have read each of their heavily-underlined and annotated pages more than once.

What character trait inspires you the most?

A sense of humor, the ability to walk lightly through life, to see the sunshine without being too bogged down by the shadow. That, and patience.

What is your favorite kind of music?

Singer-songwriter music, often acoustic. Am often teased for being stuck in boarding school with my music tastes. That’s OK by me. I also have a completely opposed affection for cheezy Top 40, including American Idol winners (and runners up) – even though I don’t watch the show.

Which book or books have inspired or touched you the most?

The Norton Anthology (volumes 1 and 2) which woke me up to the brilliance and life-altering power of literature when I was in college.

Dani Shapiro’s Devotion, Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies, Plan B, and Grace Eventually, Elizabeth Strout’s novels.

What is the ideal wake-up time?

Between 7 and 8.

Name a cd that would have to be, hands down, your desert island cd. (Let’s ignore the lack of electricity on desert islands.)

Hard. Possibly Ray Lamontagne’s Gossip in the Grain.

What are three things you hope to accomplish within the next decade?

Publish a book

Learn to let go – of everything

Make a dent in the list of books I want to read before I die

If you could change one thing about yourself what would it be?

Oh, this is a long list. First and foremost, I think, is that I’d deal with my sometimes-toxic insecurity. I’d like to care less about what others think, rely less on the world’s affirmation, be more confident about my own inner voice and inherent worth. This would also manifest in more generosity towards others, I think, if I was gentler to myself. Other than that? Stop getting cold sores, sleep better, have less muscular legs, have a sense of pitch, be a better athlete.

How has blogging changed who you are or how you see yourself?

It has begun to make me see myself, rarely and for only a fleeting second, but still, sometimes, as a writer.

Do you have a good luck charm, something you carry with you or a mantra you say or necklace or outfit you wear when you need that little something extra?

A locket of my grandmother’s that I inherited that contains baby pictures of my sister and me. Five notebooks, filled in my own handwriting, with poetry and quotes. I started in 1985 and I adore those books. A silver key ring that my father gave to my mother on my first birthday, with her monogram on one side and mine on the other.

Monsters

I’m thrilled to feature one of my favorite posts by one of my favorite bloggers today.  Corinne from Trains, Tutus, and Teatime agreed to let me share her post, which for some reason (since that title doesn’t appear anywhere) I’ve called “Monsters” in my head.  This is a classic example of Corinne’s ability to “see into the life of things” (WW) which is only one of the reasons I love her.  She writes about her children, her relationship to the beach and to nature, her sobriety (seven months now!) … really, she writes about nothing less than the meaning of life.  Beautifully, eloquently, insightfully.  I’ve been fortunate to spend a bunch of time with Corinne in person and she’s even more lovely, gentle, soulful, and wise than you’d imagine from reading her gorgeous words.  I’m honored to call her my friend.
Please enjoy Monsters, and do click over to Trains, Tutus, and Teatime.  You won’t regret it!
Courage

Fynn tip toes through the hallway of his grandparents house. Textured white walls, cool for the Florida summers, snapshots of his and his sisters babyhoods hung in every room. Only starting to become familiar with the rooms and space, he ducks into a dark, windowless bathroom. He’s looking for shadows…. for Monsters. Armed with a blue flashlight as big as his arm, and a grin, he looks behind the door.

“Monsters!!!”

I ask if he’s scarred. He’s not.

“They’re just shadows, Mommy. Now lets find that cave!”

And off we go down the hall to my parents bedroom, facing shadows turned Monsters turned back to shadows with the glare of a beam of white light. My three and a half year old walking with a bobbing head and dance in his step, full of courage as he tames fears and darkness.

~~~~~

We’ve seen the episode of Curious George at least a hundred times. Monsters in the dark, George frightened and the Man with the Yellow Hat saving the night with a flip of a switch. Shadows from every day objects brought Monsters to life for George. The power goes out at the house in the country, lights unavailable, flashlights found and turned on, George is able to take care his Monsters by himself. Or maybe the scene happened in a cave, or was an entirely different episode. They all blend together in my mind, watched during the pre-dinner rush of dishes and pans waltzing from counter to stove to sink.

~~~~~

The dark hours are the times I struggle. The strength and courage I face the day with dwindles as fatigue sets in. Shadows of memories turn to Monsters. Finding a safe flashlight, one with a clear beam, is the biggest challenge of my recovery from alcoholism {or is it with? It’s never going to disappear… over three months into sobriety I still have trouble with the lingo}

The old source of light came in the form of a bottle, smelling sweet and acidic. It only smudged the Monsters, leaving them blurry enough so they blended into the walls and I could sleep. Not comfortably but I slept, though they were always there.

Now I don’t sleep. I’m learning, slowly, how to face them with a new light, a new source of power and clarity. Perhaps a lighthouse beacon instead of just any old flashlight… Facing them with this new illumination is difficult. It takes patience to steady my shaking hand, to quiet the mind and see and listen and turn them back into shadows inch by inch. But it takes time, and many nights staring at the walls and ceiling, in silent prayer and mediation. Hoping for a miracle within myself, or for The Man with the Yellow Hat to come walking in and calmly turn on the light.

~~~~~

We spend twenty minutes giggling and looking for Monsters. Searching cave after cave. Breathless, I ask him where he learned to be so brave, where he found his courage.

“George, Mommy. George goes into the cave with a flashlight and he’s not scared anymore.”

I’m arming myself with a flashlight, shining a beam of three and a half year old courage and bravery, hope and acceptance, onto the dark walls that house the Monsters. Created by years of numbing and shoving elsewhere, they’re on their way to becoming shadows again. It’s about time.