Monday, February 28, 2011

Do I miss it?

In my mailbox today came the question, "Do you ever miss the things you got rid of to move here? I keep hoping that if I get rid of enough I will feel more free, not like I lost things. After your journey what is your overall feeling?"

I'd have to say, no, I don't miss a thing. I wish I'd gotten rid of even more things. A couple things I was adamant about keeping are now obsolete, or at least no longer the loves that they were. The beautiful hand carved ladies writing desk that I felt so fotrunate to have found no longer really "fits" anywhere in the house. It's still beautiful, but not as dear as it had been. The 1600's silk pendulum wall clock that had been a prized gift is currently up for grabs on craigslist. Two things that I had taken such care to bring with me...I could do without. One thing I gave away that did hurt, the guitar, I'm glad I gave. It's been replaced with a better one (without a broken faceboard).

What you give comes back...tenfold. Give. Give freely. Give with the thought that the giving allows more, or better, to take it's place. The empty place that is made feels wonderful. It feels clean. It feels fresh.

So much has been replaced already. I have a leather couch now. I have a handmade bed. The lamps I disliked for years have been replaced (I only lived in the dark for a couple months - no time at all in the overall scheme of my life), have been replaced with lamps I find far more pleasing. I have clothes that my closet is glad to contain. I've also somehow collected tables that wiggle and wall art that don't quite trip my trigger (but my girls insisted I put something, anything, on the walls). I would love to get rid of the tables. But then my computer would be sitting on the floor and it's a little hard to surf the internet laying around on the living room floor. Just not the same.

Just another thought (Debbie Downer moment)...when my Grandmother died my uncle brought a bunch of stuff and four suitcases of photos to go through as a family to part out. Every one wanted a copy of almost every photo. None of us ended up with any of them - it was too overwhelming. I think about all the things I will leave behind and how it will be parted out and I know my family will be overwhelmed. They'll each get a couple things that mean a lot and the rest will be at Value Village or the dump. By the time I go the kids (and maybe their kids) will already have too much stuff of their own.

For now, I wasn't in a big hurry to replace things. In general I'm glad I took the time I did. I'm glad I said no to a few things I was offered. How do I feel after the journey? I guess I'm ready to move again - just up the road a little this time. I'm looking forward to getting rid of a couple things again. Overall my opinion is...get rid of it. Just let it go. You'll be surprised at what you don't miss.

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Concentration on Beethoven

It must have been five years ago now that I read a statistic stating listening to Beethoven while studying is conducive to concentration and retention of information. God knows, I have no idea where I came across this stuff. I suppose I could Google it now and find something similar. Of course, I believe everything I find when I am surfing the web. I tried it out back then and to tell the truth it seems to work. Lately, I've been having a hard time staying seated at my desk, getting bills paid, getting stories edited, getting things even written for that matter. I want to do these things. I feel better when the bills are paid and stories are churning out of me. I just have no patience to sit and DO those things. Until this weekend.

This weekend I put on Pandora Radio a Beethoven channel. About the time I feel I "should" be sitting down to get things done I pull up Pandora, click on the Beethoven channel and within a few minutes I feel myself drawn to sit down and start typing - typing all sorts of stuff, for god's sake. This has been going for now for three or four days and I'm having a hard time leaving the desk. This is insane!

Turn off the radio!! Turn off the radio!!


Monday, February 7, 2011

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Football RULES!

I don't know if anyone knows this, but it is Packer Day. The Packers play football today. The Green Bay Packers play football today. I don't know who they are playing. That is incidental. The important thing is to wear a Green Bay Packer shirt, a Cheesehead and to have lots and lots of food available from kick-off to glorious finish. I have put a bet on with someone that is rooting for the other team. I will be winning an entire shiny quarter, two-bits. It's big money. Betting makes the game more intense. I understand how one can get carried away with gambling. I'm willing, myself, to put down a few more coins on this game. A sure bet, ya' know.

Thing One and Thing Two and myself started cooking yesterday. At least we started pulling together the ingredients. Guacamole is best fresh. The avocados are perfect ripe this morning. The chicken wings have been defrosted in the refrigerator (as if I know proper defrost procedures - per FDA roll your eyes here.) Some wings will be fried and sauced, Some will be grilled and chowed immediately. Seven layer taco salad. But wait! There's more! There's food for an entire four games. This is almost better than a Thanksgiving spread. I am sorry there is only one game. And then I wonder...can Green Bay play itself for a few games? I would watch that.

I love football. There is no better finale for the season than to see Green Bay Packers in the Super Bowl. I am only sorry it is the last game for the season. What does one do with oneself on a Sunday otherwise?

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Learning life and it's sychonicities

A thousand seasons ago, when the children were small, I read to my children eery night and I got the idea that I wanted to get involved at the local library to do a reading program in the children's section. I wanted to be a storyteller actually. I wanted to read stories to them. I mentioned it to my brother and for several years after I mentioned it to him he sent me books of fairy tales. I never got rid of those books. For some reason Iheld onto the Grimm's fairy tales, the Japanese fairy tales the Russian fairy tales, the Yiddish fairy tales. and my favorite Carl Sandburg's Rootabaga Stories. I read them sporadically. At the time I didn't know how to get involved and I was shy enough to never ask anyone at the library. Now I realize how much they may have appreciated my involvement. At the time I didn't "know how" and so I just didn't.

Things I've learned in my life have taught me that if I just ask one person, while they may not have an answer, it begins the path to getting where I think I want to be. When I make a statement other folks will offer options. I am amazed at all the things I could've done if I had just put them out there. Anymore, I am putting it out there. Maybe only in a small way, but I have gained so much satisfaction in just daily stuff by doing something about my dreams. Action is rewarded with satisfaction. There is a happiness in action, regardless of how overused the word happiness is.

I've been reading the Rootabaga Stories, and the Russian fairy tales and writing, writing, writing and it's fun. It's just fun. Of course, the stories are at I was able to find an illustrator that is having fun with this too. That one added element has been killer in my satisfaction. Get others involved. Life is so much more fun with others to share in it. Shared experiences are exponentially more satisfying.

I've settled in to living in a new town, in a new state, in a new home. I've settled in to the job and life as I've made it. There is a satisfaction in that too. It's nice to make life. I am no longer a boat without oars. I had oars all along, I ddin't know how to use them. One can only learn by doing. All the book work in the world will be useless if not used. duh. In so many is a verb, it requires action.

Friday, February 4, 2011


Lightbulbs are synchronized to blow in a flurry of popping surprises. Five in one week. It's a conspiracy.