Month: July 2018

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Start at the Beginning

“I do love the beginning of the summer hols,’ said Julian. They always seem to stretch out ahead for ages and ages.’

‘They go so nice and slowly at first,’ said Anne, his little sister. ‘Then they start to gallop.” 

― Enid Blyton, Five Go Off in a Caravan

What an odd week this has been!

To me, a retired person no longer in the traditional workplace, this has been a week filled with Mondays and Fridays. These days must have been a nightmare for all my friends out there still punching the clock every day.

With the early summer heat I’ve had the perfect opportunity to continue to read, write, and learn about myself and my past. I’m finding so much to share I am overwhelmed with where to begin.

I know–what’s so hard–begin and the beginning.

The catch is–I’m not sure where the beginning really is.

So, I’m taking this journey the same way I do any other trip–pretty much flying by the seat of my pants. Lucky for me, I won’t be alone because I’ll be pulling you all along with me. Learning is always easier and better when you can share it, cementing all that knowledge in place.

Over these past few years of serious introspection, I’ve become aware of just how much  I’d adapted in order to survive. I feel this is one of the reasons I’ve had such a difficult early retirement–I no longer knew who I was–my work and my career were everything to me.

I was surprised to learn I really was much more introverted than extroverted. As time went by and all those different roles I played and the masks fell away, the real Barbara began to emerge. I started to understand why I’d had difficulty during some of the stressful times in my life.

One part of my reading has been about personality types and traits. I’m discovering I’ve spent most of my life forcing my more introverted self into situations where I had to be much more of an extrovert.

No wonder I was exhausted most of the time.

In case you’re wondering whether you are an introvert, check out this website for some excellent information and take this quick introvert quiz:

 https://introvertdear.com/are-you-an-introvert-quiz

One of the first things I read that sparked this line of questioning was the manifesto I am closing with today. See if it stimulates some thoughts for you as well.

“A Manifesto for Introverts

1. There’s a word for ‘people who are in their heads too much’: thinkers.

2. Solitude is a catalyst for innovation.

3. The next generation of quiet kids can and must be raised to know their own strengths.

4. Sometimes it helps to be a pretend extrovert. There will always be time to be quiet later.

5. But in the long run, staying true to your temperament is key to finding work you love and work that matters.

6. One genuine new relationship is worth a fistful of business cards.

7. It’s OK to cross the street to avoid making small talk.

8. ‘Quiet leadership’ is not an oxymoron.

9. Love is essential; gregariousness is optional.

10. ‘In a gentle way, you can shake the world.’ -Mahatma Gandhi” 

― Susan Cain, Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking

I am…

B…simply being…

God bless you. Have a safe and spectacular weekend.

~Peace be with you~

 

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My Denver Tribe

“It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression, ‘As pretty as an airport.” 

― Douglas Adams, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul

Getting out of my comfort zone was my main goal this year. Things have lined up pretty well enabling me to meet that goal.

My first challenge was driving from Texas to Iowa. It had been a long time since I’d done any type of distance traveling. It was a marvelous adventure–even those times when I found myself lost and unsure of how to correct my error. If anyone had the ability to listen to my self talk during those times, you would have been laughing. There’s not a lot a very passive driver can do to make fast corrections on an interstate that is under massive construction. Needless to say, my gratitude list was very easy to compose on those days!

A few days ago I went on-line to purchase airline tickets to Denver. I cannot remember the last time I tackled that task. I was in for a surprise.

Once I’d done my best to compare all my options I thought back to the very first time I flew.

Oh, things were so very different.

I’m not sure how old I was–it was in the 70’s and my ex and I we were on our way to California. Flying then was a BIG DEAL. We were up early so we could get dressed in the new outfits we bought just for this segment of the trip. Since we both smoked then, we had seats in the smoking section–meaning we were in the back of the plane. Where we sat was not important to us–being able to smoke on that long flight was, though, was a very big deal. Could this adventure be any better?

My memories of this time are so clear. I can see my navy and red plaid pants, red top, and matching plaid jacket. We walked to the plane, greeted the “stewardess”  and headed down the narrow aisle. We had no idea what we were doing and I’m sure our body language alerted all those we passed. We eventually found our seats,  settled in, and listened to the pre-flight instructions. Our focus was on one thing–the “no smoking light.” Right or wrong, smoking while flying felt like such a big part of that whole series of the things we felt were rights of passage into being an adult. Without one doubt, we had officially made it.

Today flying has lost its glamour–at least for me. I’d much rather drive so I have control over my time and my stuff. There are times when that may not be the best choice. After much debate, it was pretty obvious flying was the better choice.

As we all age, there will be more of these types of trips made in order to support our friends–our tribe–those people we’ve chosen and made family. My brave friend has been strong for so long through so very much–it’s important for me to be back–to rejoin that very special tribe. Distance does not matter in these types of friendships. I’ve never really left–my heart has always been part of them and they have always been a part of me. I need to physically be there in order to complete that circle we forged all those years ago–that sisterhood we formed as way of loving and supporting each other. It was powerful then, it is more powerful now.

I am blessed and I am thankful.

You can’t stay in your corner of the Forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.” 

― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

I am…

B…simply being…

Keep those you love close. God bless us all.

~Peace be with you~

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A Visit from a Vixen

When I… moved to the country, I felt as if I could finally exhale that little bit of breath I’d been unconsciously holding in my lungs. Time is not so relentless when it is possible to watch the sun make an uninhibited arc across the day, when the stars take up more of the night’s space than the darkness, when a footprint lives for days in its moist soil bed, when the only motor to be heard is the occasional tractor several miles away. ~Cecily Schmidt, “Common Threads,” in Wild Child: Girlhoods in the Counterculture edited by Chelsea Cain, 1999

Since we moved to Texas I’ve been saying we live in the country.

I’m not sure that’s entirely true–if you use a broad definition of living in the country–we qualify.

Our days are quiet–not as quiet as they used to be because our little community has been discovered. Now we hear the sounds of development.

It was bound to happen. After all, we found our way here.

We enjoy our early morning sunrises, the visits from our deer friends who now feel safe enough to bring along their new fawns. We’ve named some–limping deer who raised twins last year but only has a singleton this year. There’s Jorge who visited us all last summer. He was a loner, wandering through daily on his way to Bill’s watering station and searching for any vegetable scraps Lucy or I toss out for him. This year he’s returned but is not always alone. Yesterday he showed up with two young does–maybe he is building his own little herd? That would be heartwarming for me.

Now, it’s not always calm around our little house on the hill. A couple of nights ago we were sitting outside, star-gazing, and looking for satellites. Yes, we are a wild and crazy bunch! The moon was waning so it was very dark and stars impressive. As we talked, marveling  at the amazing Universe around us, a blood curtailing scream came out of the field behind us.

What in the world was that sound?

It happened again and it was closer.

That unexplained sound was enough to send me in for the night.

As luck would have it, our dogs had me out a few hours later. Whatever was making that sound had not left and the screaming continued with other chattering sounds in between screams. Once again, I rushed our dogs inside.

I was on a mission to find out what was terrorizing my peaceful evenings. I listened to the sounds of every creature I could think could be living around our house. After some wrong guesses, I found our vocalizer.

It was a fox–most likely a pair of foxes who were out for the evening with their kits or pups. The screams I’d been hearing actually have a name–a vixen scream because it was originally thought it was a sound made only by the female–the vixen. This has been proven false and it can be a sound used to by the pair as a way to alert each other of possible dangers to themselves or to their young.

 

Okay.

Now that I know what was making that sound I was more at ease–not comfortable by any means. The unknown now had a name–taking my imagination out of the equation. Believe me, the images I’d conjured up were much scarier than any fox.

Please stay safe, my friends,  and enjoy your Forth of July holiday.

I am…

B…simply being…

God bless us all and God Bless America.

~Peace be with you~

 

 

 

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Memorial Gardens

It’s just fine to feel a little heavy, and it’s just fine to sit here and catch  my breath, and it’s just fine to be a mess at times, and it’s just fine to be relatively normal sometimes. It’s just fine to let it all hit me, surrendering and succumbing and it’s just fine to remember that grief has no rules, and that really, it will in many ways last as long as love does. Forever. 

Scribbles and Crumbs

It was over ten years ago that I built and planted my first memorial garden. I had learned my cousin, Donna, had died. She died in Iowa and I was still working in Denver, Colorado.

That did not set well with me.

I had to find some way to honor the person who had been such an important part of my life.

I decided to plant a garden in her memory. This garden expanded to honor the memory of my sister–we re-named it the Donna-Bethie garden. It was a place where the butterflies gathered and the hummingbirds stopped over the course of the summer. Leaving this little garden behind was one of the hardest parts of leaving Colorado.

When we bought our house in Texas, we planted a new Donna-Bethie garden. The little garden faced some challenges but it has thrived this past year. The tiny little plants are now nearly bush size and the incredible varieties of Texas butterflies visit this garden all day long.

This year has been a tough one. I’ve lost friends and felt I needed to expand my gardens.

My timing certainly could have been better. After several days of seriously hard work, I have the foundation down for two new rock gardens. I am toasting them with a glass of cold water while giving thanks for the ability to have such a lovely way to keep those amazing souls close.

“People you love never die. That is what Omai had said, all those years ago. And he was right. They don’t die. Not completely. They live in your mind, the way they always lived inside you. You keep their light alive. If you remember them well enough, they can still guide you, like the shine of long-extinguished stars could guide ships in unfamiliar waters.” 

― Matt Haig, How to Stop Time