Hello, friends. I haven’t been here in so long and I apologize for that. My life has been full-on these last two months and included:

• Driving to Boston via Connecticut, seeing Sam, my sisters, my mom, and two dear college friends
• Putting our house on the market – those of you who have done the same will know all the myriad activities hidden in that simple statement. Knock on wood, things are progressing nicely. We won’t breathe that sigh of relief until the papers are signed and the keys are handed over.
• Flying to England for Chris’ mother’s funeral
• Making all of the arrangements for the next stage of our adventure – there are many moving parts, different stages, and several things left on our “to do” list. I will share more of that when it is all done and dusted.  What I can share: we are excited. 

I’ve had conversations with several of my friends lately about the kinds of things we are thinking about as people in our 60’s. There is an awareness that in the Play of our lives, we are entering the Last Act. And that awareness does not bring sadness or fear – it brings a sense of freedom. And impetus. Now is the time. Now. 

One of my sisters has gotten back into working in stained glass, and her creations are so gorgeous – I can’t wait to see what’s yet to come from her. BFF Beth is undertaking a multi-stop solo trip through Northern Europe. Another dear friend has bought a home in Nova Scotia with her Canadian husband after a long, fulfilling teaching and coaching career in New York. Others are still in the dreaming and planning phase. 

I firmly believe that you can create your own life. And I say this as someone who, for many years, put myself second, or third, or at the bottom of the list. Who felt obliged to go along with whatever I thought was expected and to be the person I thought others wanted me to be. And then I had a revelation:  I may have thought I was responding to outside forces, but I was actually responding to my own perception of outside forces. I was editing myself preemptively.  So to quote the great Taylor Swift: I’m the problem; it’s me. I’ve been doing the internal work to try to get past that mindset for a while, but really intensively in the last year. It will always be a work in progress. 

When I say I believe you can create your own life, I fully understand that life does put certain constraints on us, whether they be financial, familial, health, mobility, etc. Chris and I will not be buying a retirement home next to George Clooney’s place on Lake Como, for instance. But I think we can all work within our own personal set of given boundaries – thinking of them as a framework rather than a set of constraints – to make the life we lead intentional, beautiful, satisfying, enriching. As a teeny-tiny example, I love beautiful coffee mugs. Having a cup of coffee or tea in one of the fun mugs I’ve bought gives me a sense of joy. Just seeing them on the shelf in the kitchen cupboard makes me smile. I know I’m getting into the territory of Marie Kondo’s “spark joy” here, but we all have our “things” that make us feel warm and fuzzy inside – coffee mugs, pretty patterned bedsheets, and Provencal-patterned cloth napkins and placemats are some of mine. 

On a less material level, writing in my journal every day, or most days, is something new to me that brings me joy. I’ve journaled on and off my whole life – I can remember journaling at age 7 – but I haven’t journaled with any regularity for the last few decades (you know you’re getting old when you refer to your life in terms of decades!).  I found an app compatible with my Mac called Day One (link to info here) that I have been using and I absolutely love it.  It is a free app with purchases available within, but I have found I don’t need or want any of the for-pay functionalities. 

Moving forward into this last Act, I want to see how far I can grow my photography skills. I want adventure and travel. I want family and friends and long talks into the night (with the understanding that my bedtime is somewhere between 9:00 and 10:00). I want to express all the love and appreciation I have for those I love. I want (need) the ocean. I want to really be there for MYSELF most of all, and not care what I think other people might think. You have no idea how hard it is for me to let that last sentence just sit there, un-deleted. 

April and May will be busy months. Tomorrow I travel to Connecticut to be with my mom on her 93rd birthday. There will be an abundance of overtime at work and then another trip in May, this time to New Zealand – round trip 🙂 

I don’t know how much I’ll be able to write in the next couple of months. Perhaps you won’t hear from me until June, but I will try to get here sooner!

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Oh if I could, I’d will these clouds away, my love

I’d wave my hand, reveal the stars

Oh, if I could, I’d hold the tide at bay, my love

But clouds will come and tides will turn

And all I have to offer is

Tomorrow spring will come and then

There will be blue skies, my friend

Bright eyes and laughter

Tomorrow there will be sun

But if not tomorrow, perhaps the day after.

(from Groundhog Day, The Musical – music and lyrics by Tim Minchin)

xoxo

I just finished reading the book “Family Lore” by Elizabeth Acevedo. There is a quote I’ve saved that spoke to me: “This is how you heal, niña. You are thoughtful about what you offer yourself; you study what you put out.”  Full disclosure, in this quote an old woman is helping her granddaughter heal from intestinal problems! But everything we offer ourselves – from food, to all kinds of media, to experiences outside of media, to relationships – either help us in some way or hurt us in some way – there’s not a lot of neutral ground here. Does it nourish you, inform you, soothe you, energize you? Or does it anesthetize you, irritate you, enrage you, make you feel helpless or hopeless or less-than? This is where I could write a paragraph or three about the evils of social media, but I’ve covered that subject a few times before.

I am going to spend this year being very thoughtful about what I offer myself.

If we are thoughtful about what we offer ourselves, how do we study what we put out? For me, part of it will involve journaling every morning as part of my new morning routine (which is still a work in progress). But output can also be seen as our moods, our attitudes, our energy levels, how we react to the things and people we encounter each day. I do realize that moods can be unrelated to what we consume – depression and anxiety are medical conditions, often inherited, and some of us may always have some level of irritability, fatigue, and negativity as a base level. Controlling what we allow to enter into our bodies/minds/spirits isn’t a cure-all. I do believe, however, that  it can at the very least help ameliorate some of the symptoms of anxiety, depression, and just the normal stresses of life. When we are thoughtful about what we offer ourselves, we are setting healthy boundaries. Self care isn’t just about bubble baths and massages – it’s about doing the tough things we know we need to do in order to feel our best. 

This week is my 10-year Cancerversary.  It’s a time for me to reflect on how far I’ve come since that dark day when it felt like the bottom fell out of my world. It’s also a time to renew my vow to “get busy living.”  But most of all, it’s a time to be grateful for all that I have experienced in the last 10 years, and the fact that I am still here.

Friends, I hope you offer yourselves only the best this week. You deserve it so very much.

Love, 

Michelle xoxo

I was talking to BFF Beth today, telling her that I didn’t think I was going to do a 24 for 2024 this year. I had a handful of things, but really no inspiration. She suggested doing 4 for 2024, which was an excellent idea, but after our call it just seemed like ideas for a full list dropped down from the sky. I tried to link most of my items to my 2024 theme word STRONG, breaking it down into Strong Body (muscles, especially core; bones; heart/lungs), Strong Mind (reading, learning), Strong Spirit (nature, music, beauty, order, calm, love). Most of my 24 for 2024 fall into one of those categories, but there are also some there just because.

24 for 2024

• Get the perfect thrifted red hoodie sweatshirt
• Find a way to disengage from office politics
• Read 24 novels
• Take a photography class
• Build on the success of last year’s pollinator garden
• Weight training 3 – 4 days a week
• Create wake-up and bedtime routines/rituals
• Treat myself to a new Apple Watch 
• Build on the success of last year’s desk/basement/loft/garage edit
• Go on at least one trip that requires a passport 
• Be with my mom and Sam on their respective birthdays
• Christmas in Boston
• Create a binder of my favorite poems
• No meat February
• Get a tripod or monopod for my camera
• Get a plumber in to fix the tub fixture thingie so that I can take baths again
• 2nd shingles shot
• New eye glasses
• Make 2024 playlists for walking, roadtrips, calm
• Breakfast dates with Chris
• Create a capsule wardrobe using items I already own
• Go to a nature preserve I haven’t been to yet
• Photograph birds along the shores of Lake Erie
• Core training 6 days a week

I’ve already crossed one item off the list: Treat myself to a new Apple Watch. My old one was Chris’ and was the original first generation Apple Watch. It lost its charge before the end of the day and kept calling me Chris (“Keep it up, Chris!”) no matter what we did. The new one knows my name and is super peppy.

My cold is very nearly gone. I worked from home all last week, and visited my primary care physician Friday to see why my ear was still stuffy and I couldn’t hear much with it. Turns out the infection did not respond to the antibiotic ear drops and now I am on the big-gun oral antibiotics. Ear is still blocked, but there is no pain in my ear or throat anymore, so that’s progress at least! I can’t wait to get back to the gym. I miss that routine.

January is my least-favorite month, mostly because of how long, cold, and dark it is. I don’t like to wish time away – it’s far too precious – but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t glad that the month is 2/3 over. I’m reclining in bed right now and the 4:41 pm sun is slanting through the window in such a lovely way, though. Reminder to self – the sun is here all year long and there is beauty to find even in January.

I hope your week has some sunny days, wherever you are.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Ten days ago – Thursday, January 4 – I decided to work from home. I had worked 12 hours on Tuesday, 11 hours on Wednesday, was fully expecting to work more than 8 hours on Thursday, but for my emotional health I needed to do it from home. I had to get away from that office and a situation there that would have been a great story arc for The Office but was absolutely maddening when I had to face it each day. 

Part-way through the day I started to notice all the signs of an impending cold – sore throat, sinus headache, fatigue. After clocking out that day I went straight to bed. Woke up the next morning feeling worse. Worked from home again Friday. Saturday, felt no better. Sunday woke up with one eye glued shut from pink eye and my right ear leaking something it shouldn’t be leaking. Went to the local urgent care as soon as they opened and left with some drops for my eye and drops for my ear. 

This cold has lingered. I still am not 100% better. Last week I worked from home Monday – Friday, 8 hours a day. My eyes (the pink eye migrated to the other eye as well) are better, thank goodness. Nasal congestion and coughing is about 75% better. Ear is still completely blocked and I can’t hear much of anything on that side. I see a visit to my PCP in my future if it doesn’t clear soon. 

I have been working on compiling my 24 for 2024 and one of the items is/was, “Find a way to disengage from office politics.” This illness has shown me one way to accomplish this – working from home. We’re allowed to work from home two days a week but I had not worked from home since mid-July (funnily enough, around the same time this crazy situation at work began). Working from home last week gave me the perspective I needed, a perspective I couldn’t get when I was immersed in that office culture every day. I need more of that space, moving forward.

I am always lured into working too many hours during our busy season – unlimited overtime! Think of the $$$$$!!!! And I do like the extra cash. But there’s a balance to be had. We were given unlimited overtime because management decided they didn’t need to backfill positions in my department when people left. Then busy season happened and – “oh no!” – how is all this work going to get done on time?

But let’s face it. I am a 60-year-old cancer survivor. I should know better. Next busy season, if they haven’t sorted out how to properly manage operations, I’m not going to take that on as my problem.

I find it kind of amusing how I’ve needed more than one wake-up call to prioritize myself. Wouldn’t you think a rather nasty case of cancer would have done that once and for all? I know I’ve sat here writing posts several times in the past saying, “that’s it! I am going to take care of myself, not take on too much at work – I will prioritize my health!” And yet. Oh, it sucks you in, friends. Especially if you are a people pleaser. Especially if you pride yourself on being a “good worker,” whatever that means. And I don’t even have a big, impressive career! I don’t make a huge hourly wage. My job title will not cause anyone reading my Small-But-Moderately-Prestigious-Northeastern-Liberal-Arts-College Alumni Newsletter to clench their teeth in envy. All of this pressure? It is literally all me. 

I’m going to sit with that a moment here. Here’s a bird to look at while I do:

I don’t know what the answer is yet. But I know the quality of my life, for however long I stay here among you good people, depends on it. Maybe that’s a good enough start. 

Have a wonderful week, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

Hello friends,

It’s been a while. A whole month! All is well here, albeit full-on. I’ve been working Saturdays, which cuts into my whole getting-out-into-nature vibe. The photos above were taken right at sunset last Friday night. This is a screech owl – so tiny (this one was about 7 inches tall) and so perfect. She was just waking up, still a little snoozy. As the minutes passed she became more active, standing on the edge of her home before flying off into the darkness. Before you start worrying about me being alone in the dark in a national park – I brought Chris along as my security detail.

Pokey moved to Boston last weekend. We will miss him, but Sam is over-the-moon to have him back, so I am happy.

Tomorrow is Winter Solstice. I’m glad. These short, dark days take a toll on me. Just knowing that each day after tomorrow will be that little bit longer does my little heart good.

My last post was about strength. Gaining strength in my body and mind. I’m proud that each day since that post I have focused on nourishing my body and strengthening my core muscles. I’ve gone to bed each night with no regrets in regards to how I took care of my body that day. I’ve become really interested in a type of movement called “animal flow” – this is the video that first piqued my interest in animal flow. In early January I will doing this 10-day beginners animal flow challenge.

I’m not sure if I’m going to do a “24 for 2024” list for the new year. I really enjoyed my “23 for 2023” list – I think I chose well, and got nearly all of them done. I’m just feeling really tired at the moment. I’m getting over a cold, working 50 hours a week, dealing with problematic dynamics in the workplace, scaffolding my child’s first few months in a new city/state/job/apartment with three phone calls a day plus multiple texts, and working on my New Zealand immigration paperwork, which has mainly involved chasing down my suddenly elusive doctors to provide proof that I’m not actively dying from cancer and/or being a danger to myself and others (as everyone taking anti-anxiety meds is likely to be, apparently). It’s all a bit much, frankly.

If I sound frazzled, I am. But at the same time, I’m feeling calm, if that’s possible. And I’m grateful for so much. For one thing, I’m grateful to live in a world that has screech owls. And actually, that one thing is enough for me tonight.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

It’s 1:19 in the afternoon as I write this, and already the sun has begun its descent in the western sky. Sunset isn’t for another four and a half hours, but I can feel the darkness waiting impatiently in the wings. Shadows are long and the light has that “golden hour” quality that I appreciate much more at about, say, 6 or 7pm. It’s a beautiful day and I wish I could appreciate that beauty more, live in the moment more, without wanting more. 

Last weekend I had a very quick trip to the east coast. Flew into Providence on Saturday. Drove back to Ohio from Boston on Sunday. That will be my final trip anywhere in 2023 and I am relieved to just stay put for a while. The first photo above was taken at the first Pennsylvania rest stop on I-90 after crossing over from New York. That blue strip on the horizon is Lake Erie. The I-90 route back to Ohio is a new one for me, and I was surprised by just how many miles of vineyards there were in upstate New York. The fall colors were still so stunning. 

A loved one of mine just lost one of their loved ones this weekend. It was unexpected and it has haunted me all day.  Lately I have been talking with my friends about staying physically strong for the long haul – because we don’t want to be that frail-looking 80-year-old in the grocery store. What we don’t think about is the fact that we might not make 80. Or 70. Or tomorrow. I’m realizing that I might need to shift my goal from the long-term to the here and now. Living each day so that I am stronger (mentally and physically) when my head hits the pillow at the end of the day than when I woke up that morning. I might not necessarily feel the difference, of course, as the change will be incremental – but I’ll be able to look back at the day and see what I’ve done, in concrete ways, to gain that strength.

There are still six weeks left in 2023, but in the spirit of the here and now, I am claiming a new one-word-theme right now, before 2024 begins. It might just be the theme for the rest of my life: STRONG. It’s a combination of aspiration and affirmation. I’m not a weak person. I’ve come through a lot in life. But I feel like I suffer internally more than I should – that life takes more of a toll on me than it should. I’m tender-hearted and I care WAY too much about things I shouldn’t care that much about. So, I’m seeking more mental resilience and strength and a large dash of “don’t give a fuck”. Physically, I know exactly what to do to become stronger, and I have much of that in place already, but I need to take it up a notch, become more accountable to myself, and put myself higher up on my list of priorities (and realize that putting myself at number one on the list does not make me selfish, a bad mother, a bad worker, or a bad partner).

I hope you are doing well this weekend, friends. Here in the States this week brings Thanksgiving, which will be a quiet affair with just Chris and Pokey and me.

I am thankful for you.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

We turned the clocks back last night. I woke up this morning with a case of the Sunday scaries. Which isn’t fair. Sunday scaries aren’t supposed to show up until about 3pm. I instinctively knew what to do, though. I opened up the Libby app on my phone and checked out some Mary Oliver digital books from the library. Then around 9:00 I drove to Beaver Marsh, one of the most visited and most beautiful parts of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

The last time I was at Beaver Marsh was mid-August, I think. Wood ducks were everywhere. Red-winged blackbirds seemed to cling to every reed. Green herons, bullfrogs, muskrats abounded. Everything was green; water lilies were threatening to cover the entire marsh; turtles lined up on fallen logs to sun themselves.

Beaver Marsh on November 5 was a colder, quieter place. There were a dozen or so Canada geese, some mallard couples, one blue heron who decided to stay behind while the others migrated south. It felt a little empty and sad, but then I decided to pay attention to the beauty that was still there. Berries of all kinds were left on branches and vines. The colors were brilliant.

Later I went to the gym to do some strength training, took a nap, and raked the rest of the leaves in our yard with Chris. I read my Mary Oliver. The scaries went away, as they always do.

Nature. Movement. Poetry. Rinse and repeat.

I hope you have a wonderful week, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

In the last three weeks, I have been to Boston twice – first apartment-hunting, then moving. Sam is now in a cute apartment close to work and close to the subway. The entire affair was not without its dramas — Boston is a crazy, competitive, expensive real estate market; the apartment turned out to not be immediately habitable on move-in day; and there were a couple moments when I secretly had my doubts the whole thing would gel.

Driving from Boston back to Ohio last Wednesday I knew that, as tired as I was, I needed to get right back into my routines. Back to the gym. Back to eating right. This weekend included naps and walks and a trip to the library. I feel ready to face a full five-day work week. Actually, I’m looking forward to the routine of it all.

I’ve gone beyond my “23 for 2023” goal of reading 23 novels. I listened to two books on the long Ohio to New England drive and back, and for some reason they were both post-apocalyptic. The first, “The Girl With All the Gifts” by M.R. Carey was of the zombie apocalypse variety. I enjoyed it until I didn’t enjoy it anymore — I feel like it went on too long, and I really am not into zombie stories. It had a nice twist on the theme, I thought, but then it devolved to really just another running-from-zombies story. The book I listened to on the way home was “Station Eleven” by Emily St. John Mandel, which was of the pandemic apocalypse variety. I enjoyed it much more than “The Girl With All the Gifts.” It was surprising, really. From the title, I was expecting something completely different from what it turned out to be, which was a very character-driven story about how our lives touch the lives of others. I highly recommend it.

I still feel like I am recovering from all of the moving rigamarole. It was a lot. A whole lot. This post is just to let you know I’m still here (wasn’t that the purpose of my previous blog post?) Life has just been full-on. I’ll be back soon, I promise.

Love,

Michelle xoxo

I’m still here, dear friends, nearly six weeks after my last post. Life has been full-on. Long story short – Sam is now firmly tucked under my sister’s and niece’s wings and has finished week one of an exciting new job in Boston. I have been back home for about ten days and I’m still finding my footing in this empty nest. Well, not quite so empty as Pokey is still here with us (for now). I’ve been walking more, lifting weights at the gym again, trying out new recipes. One thing I haven’t done for the last month is pick up my big-girl camera. I decided not to bring it on the road trip out east, then kicked myself after seeing my sister’s amazing zinnia bed which seemed to attract every hummingbird within a one-mile radius. Since I’ve been back, other pursuits have taken up my free time.

I am prioritizing my health these days, focusing on diet and physical strength/flexibility/balance. I let stress have the upper hand for most of the spring and summer and slacked off on everything I know I should do for my health. I didn’t do horribly, just not well – and the bathroom scale told that sad tale with just three digits. I have an appointment with my primary care physician next week to discuss my latest bone density scans (they weren’t what I had hoped for, but could have been worse). I’m going to ask for a referral to a bone specialist, as I feel like both my PCP and my oncologist have the same, simplistic answer, “Do more weight bearing exercise, consume more calcium – oh, and here’s a drug.” Just from my own research I know that there’s more that can be done to prevent further bone loss and future fractures.

I feel like I don’t have much to say at the moment, but I wanted to get back in the saddle and not let too much time go by without letting you know I am fine and thinking of you all.

And now, I think I’ll take a nap.

Have a wonderful weekend, friends.

Love,

Michelle xoxo