The Red Door Changed to Yellow

There’s a house nearby. Where my best friend used to live. She doesn’t live there anymore. And I can hardly believe it. I can hardly believe the years that have passed. The water under the bridge. And over the dam.

Walking by today. The dogs tried to turn up her sidewalk . No Daisy!  No Peanut! Maggie doesn’t live there anymore. Maggie was my best friend’s dog.

When Henry was still little enough to hold my hand we would walk together to her house. On the way we would pass a cement family of ducks. “Duck!” Henry would stop and point proudly with such glee.

The ducks are gone now too.

And Henry is much, much taller.

And on his way to high school. Where has the time gone?

You know. You can’t hold on to time. In fact. You can’t really hold on to anything at all. Can you?

Have you tried maybe? And what of it?

And so.

There are so many levels of knowing that my best friend has moved on.

But somehow. Most of all. It’s that her old front door. Changed from red to yellow.

Burning Bridges

A little slice of my backyard life. I’ve been working on this border since 1992. Mostly because I can. I love being in the dirt. Digging holes. Nurturing my plants. Moving them when they’re not thriving. Or when I think they’ll look better in a different spot. Yes. My neighbor, Laura, is in constant wonderment of all the places my shrubs have been!

I love sitting on my patio with the comforting fragrance of lilac. Watching the butterflies, and bees, and birds appreciating this sanctuary that I have created. Of course. I’m not sure who benefits more from this lovely refuge of my backyard. Them or me? All of us for sure!

And more dirt in my life…

I spent the entire morning yesterday in our community garden preparing the soil. There is so much peace along this portion of Evanston in the quietness of Twiggs Park. Resting on the south side of the canal. I know I’m in my own heaven when the opportune robins are visiting while I till. Waiting for me to turn over a worm. Love.Love.Love! Such peace and wholeness I feel while working the soil.

And so.

I also find that I come to myself when I’m gardening. I take out my anger as I pull the weeds and my tenderness as I take a grub and move  him to another place. Rather than squash him. My soul is bare in the garden.

And there I learned. Some bridges, indeed need to be burned. Things come into your life that do you no good. It becomes necessary to take action. Burn bridges if you must. But always do it with a kind heart. Toward yourself. Because it is only when you cultivate  kindness in your heart that you can do so for others as well. Even if you have to burn a few bridges.

Are You Content with Conflict?

I’ve been so darned content over the last few days. Where’s my muse? What to write about when one is so contented?

No worries. Just taking a little respite. Life is still offering plenty of challenges.

But this contentment has got me to thinking.

How do you feel about conflict? Do you try to avoid it at all costs? Do you see it as part of the challenge of life?

Do you find that it’s easier to argue for something or against something?

How is your life focused? Are you trying to overcome obstacles ? Or. To achieve goals?

Who are the antagonists in your life? Do you approach them as enemies or challenges?

What tools do you use when confronting a conflict? Do you have any? Only a hammer?

Am I thinking out loud tonight? A little bit. For sure. While in this state of contentment.

In her blog, Kristin Lamb wrote an awesome post on Understanding the Antagonist, which expounds on how the antagonist is the key ingredient to dramatic tension.

Conflict is the core ingredient to fiction, even literary fiction. Conflict in any novel can have many faces and often you will hear this referred to as the antagonist. The antagonist is absolutely essential for fiction. He/she/it is the engine of your story. No engine, and no forward momentum. Like cars, plots need momentum or they are dead.

The antagonist provides the energy to move the story forward. Antagonists generate genuine drama.

And so.

If there is no conflict there is no story. Isn’t that something. Doesn’t this then circle back to the Buddha’s Four Noble Truths:

1. Life is difficult. We are always challenged.
2. You don’t need to be pleased to be content.
3. Peace is possible.
4. We need to train the mind to accommodate life as it happens.

And so again.

If there is no conflict there is no life. Isn’t that something. It’s all about how we deal with conflict. And too. It’s ok to be content. There’s still a story to be had. Because there will always be an antagonist lurking somewhere.

A Better Day I Can’t Imagine

I’ve been a mom for almost fourteen years now. There is nothing more in the world that I could wish for. Henry and Max. You rock!

Goodbye Old Frenemy

“Buddhism is a path of supreme optimism, for one of its basic tenets is that no human life or experience is to be wasted or forgotten, but all should be transformed into a source of wisdom and compassionate living.”

- Taitetsu Unno, “Number One Fool”

Where to begin? Some awesome synchronicity going on here again. When you pay attention. Good things happen. Henry and I share a Kindle account. He sees my books. I see his. He recently downloaded the book, The Power of Habit. So I thought I’d check it out.

It is a godsend at just the right moment. For ages I have had a nasty habit that I hate. That I am finally ready to say goodbye to.

For a very, very, very long time. Ok. My entire adult life. I’ve thought that I drink too much. And I’m tired of thinking that. I’m tired of feeling that. I’m tired of fearing that.

But I would like to continue to enjoy our lovely wine collection. And champagne at celebrations. And beer with nachos.

Can I? Can I finally enjoy drinking without that nagging shame of You drink too much? Can I not drink too much?

I hope there a few readers out there who appreciate the irony that I am typing this during my very favorite 5pm Friday night Happy hour.

Goodbye old friend. You’ve made me feel like shit for so many years. I don’t need you anymore. And I don’t need you right now. Just because it’s Friday at 5pm.

Oh my. Indeed.

And so.

The book explains that the process of forming a habit is a three-step loop: Cue, Routine, Reward. Most simply put, to change the habit you keep the cue and the reward, but must change the routine.

With any ingrained habit, there is a great deal of soul-searching, reflecting, understanding your cues and rewards. Happily, I’ve been doing that quite rigorously since I started this blog in October. I understand my cues. I know what my rewards are. I want to permanently change my routine.

And here’s the very cool part for me. All the synchronicity that has been happening since October. Is that I finally know I am really ready. I have the method.  I have the belief.  But the key for me. I have the support of  a community who believes in that as well.

“There’s something really powerful about groups and shared experiences. People might be skeptical about their ability to change if they’re by themselves, but a group will convince them to suspend disbelief. A community creates belief.”

You know. I like to say. Shift happens.

I come to The Carrot Seed just about every day. It has become such an integral part of my life. To share. To listen. To feel connected. To belong to a community.

It is with this support, this shared reflection that I feel like I’m finally able to let go of my beloved frenemy known by so many names. We’ll just call her “overindulgence.” Because that’s comfortable for me.

When I drink too much I feel like I am wasting this precious human life that I have been given. My greatest regrets come from that. How grateful I am to have the good fortune and support to transform this behavior. And to know that from this will come wisdom and greater compassion.

To everyone who stops by The Carrot Seed. I am grateful.

Friday Happy Hour Transformed.