What is a vlalk, you ask? I just invented the word – it’s a cross between a vlog and a walk. Quite dangerous, especially where there are roots and fallen branches about. 🙂
Happy Sunday, friends!
xoxo
So, I’m waiting for some test results to come back – nothing potentially earth-shattering, just yearly physical stuff, but anyone who is in this cancer survivor club knows that with any test result comes the possibility that something will be amiss. Sure, you THINK you feel great, but look at this! Your such-and-such level is way off the charts! We’ll have to investigate…
It’s always an exercise in staying calm, in not putting the cart before the horse, in not letting your imagination spiral out of control. In an example of perfect timing, there was this article in the New York Times today about dealing with uncertainty of any kind. I found both the piece itself and the comment section very affirming and consoling. It’s always nice to know you’re not alone. And even though most of you reading this are probably not cancer patients or survivors, there is plenty of uncertainty to go around these days, whether it be covid-related news, politics, social justice, the environment – you name it.
I find it helpful to think about the things that are constant, and that will remain constant no matter what. The two things that are most important to me – the love I give and receive, and the beauty of the natural world – will not change in my lifetime, no matter what my test results are or who is elected in November, or when a vaccine is available. They will always be there for me, every day, all day.
In the last couple of days I witnessed two things in nature that I haven’t seen outside of a television program. The first was a mother deer in our backyard a few mornings ago, nursing her two nearly-grown fawns. Lovely.
The second thing happened this morning. I’ve mentioned in this blog before about how I am fascinated by crows. I love how they live in groups – they remind me of this cool bird gang that you see hanging out in the neighborhood, chatting amongst themselves, calling out to their friends half-way down the block to come join the conversation.
I had heard from my sister that crows can exhibit a behavior called “mobbing.” Mobbing is when a group of animals, usually birds, coordinate to intimidate a predator – swooping, chasing, trash-talking. She once saw a group of crows mobbing a fox in her back yard that had just killed a baby turkey. This morning, as I was entering the park at the end of the street, I heard the crows caw-ing like crazy. I looked around to see where they were perched, and lo and behold they came swooping and chasing after a fox, who was carrying something small, furry, and presumably recently-dead in its jaws. The fox ran across my path, away from the crows and into the brush, to enjoy its meal in peace. The crows flew back to their perches. I walked on, a big smile on my face.
The deer and the fox and the crows don’t care about my test results. They don’t care who wins the election in November, and they don’t care what other craziness we humans think up to do to each other. The trees are turning incredible autumn colors, just as they always have every autumn of my life, just as they will continue to do after I’m long gone. These things are certain. You could argue that with the threat of global climate change these things also face uncertainty. I would agree with you. But for the moment I find great comfort in my walks in the woods, the birds in the trees, and the glory of a sunrise.
Have a wonderful weekend, friends.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
I don’t pray, but I can say thank you.
Thank you to the universe for having this planet in it.
Thank you to this planet for having me in it.
Thank you to the sun for keeping me warm, for growing my food, for lighting my days, and for making everything look so beautiful.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Tuesday evening I was all set to sit down and crank out a blog post. I got out my laptop, signed in, and just…couldn’t. After 8 hours in front of my work computer (still in the dining room), and a tv show over dinner (we’re working our way through all the seasons of Rake), I felt so full-up with technology I couldn’t take one more moment of screen time. I wasn’t feeling anxious, per se. More overwhelmed.
I closed the laptop and got out one of the puzzles I ordered a few weeks ago. I spent the next two hours or so sorting out the edge pieces, putting them together, sorting out the interior pieces according to color, and drinking a couple of mugs of green tea. Making a jigsaw puzzle is such a tactile endeavor – I never realized before how grounding it can be.
After that experience I read a few articles about how many people are experiencing digital overload during these days of working from home, socializing online, and Netflix binge-watching. When I worked in the office, I still worked the entire 8 hour day at my computer, but there would be interruptions in the form of walking over to the work room to pick up printed sheets, walking over to a neighboring cubicle to ask a question, a few chuckles at the coffee machine, department meetings, or even just hearing an adjacent cubicle-mate venting frustration at their computer. Now my entire day takes place through the computer. I print pages to PDF and save them in DocsVault. I communicate with my colleagues and work friends by text or through a messaging program called Teams. Department meetings are video calls through the same Teams application. And when you’re working from home, getting up from the computer and going to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee or a piece of toast somehow feels more taboo than the same actions taken at the office. I feel like I have to be productive every minute of the workday, which is exhausting.
For the last several days I’ve been purposely spending more time in nature. My lunch hours have been spent sitting on a bench in our back yard or walking the trail in the park at the end of the street. The goal of these walks is not exercise. I walk slowly, looking at the trees, breathing in the Autumn forest smells of damp ground, fallen leaves, and pine trees. I lean on trees now and then to watch the squirrels and the birds. I go off-trail, especially if there are other people in the park, so that I can concentrate on my environment and not on whether or not the person approaching me on the trail will come too close.
I’m trying to offset the necessary digital portions of my day with things that engage my senses. After reading so many digital books during this covid time, I’m longing for some paper books. The feel of the paper, print that isn’t backlit – I’m realizing that I need the nourishment of that experience again. An actual trip to the library might have to be in my near future.
I’ve ordered some back issues of a magazine that I enjoy, Bella Grace. It’s a non-glossy magazine for women that has no content on fashion, makeup, fitness, or work. There are no advertisements, so it’s a bit pricy, but the back issues are discounted. What it does have are lovely photographs, bits of poetry, quotes, thoughtful articles, and lists. I love the lists! They have titles like “48 Simple Yet Significant Thank-You Gestures” and “35 Books that have Carried Us Through Hard Times.” I do have a couple of digital issues, which are less expensive than the paper version but not nearly as satisfying.
On the meditation front, I’ve pulled out a hand-held labyrinth that I received as a gift many years ago, and I’ve been using it to meditate instead of the meditation app on my phone. I’ve always been fascinated with walking labyrinths, like the most famous one in the cathedral in Chartres, France. I’ve only actually walked a labyrinth once, although when Sam was little I used to draw labyrinths on our extra-wide driveway with chalk! With a hand-held labyrinth, you use a stylus to trace over the path. I’ve found that even if my mind is relatively busy while tracing the path, I always finish in a noticeably calmer mood than when I started.
Do you have any activities that soothe you during this still-crazy, information-overload time?
I hope you are having a restful weekend!
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Hello friends,
I have zero time this morning to write more than a few captions, but I wanted to share this morning’s walk with you! I don’t think my heart rate got very close to my target as I was constantly stopping to take photos!
Have a beautiful day!
Love,
Michelle xoxo
I have time for just a few words this morning, but I wanted to share with you sights that I found so nourishing this morning on my walk. Isn’t that flower an absolute beauty? The internet tells me it is a dahlia, but please chime in if that’s incorrect.
Along the way I listened to the podcast “On Being with Krista Tippett” – episode 869, “Michael McCarthy – Nature, Joy, and Human Becoming.” It was the perfect accompaniment. I now want to read McCarthy’s book “The Moth Snowstorm: Nature and Joy.” Isn’t that a great name for a book? He apparently also has a new title coming out in October called “The Consolation of Nature: Spring in the Time of Coronavirus.”
Sounds like a must read for a nature-lover like me. And maybe you?
Have a wonderful day, friends.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
I’m sorry I’ve been gone from these pages for the last two weeks. I lost my momentum, you see, and it’s so hard to gain momentum back once it’s been lost.
I love the video at the start of this post. I ran across it years ago when I was doing graduate work toward becoming a reading specialist. I had to create a learning module on environmentalism, found this video, and have been in love with it ever since. It just occurred to me right now that it fits perfectly with my post today on the Japanese concept of Ikigai. Well, not the concept itself, but what it has come to mean to me in my life. You’ll see by the time you reach the end of the post. Don’t worry, it’s not too long.
I first became aware of Ikigai two or three years ago when it was trending on the internet and in bookstores. It seems that every year or so a new one-word lifestyle concept that promises to change our lives gains a lot of interest, inspires countless Pinterest posts and a couple small-scale books, and then fades back away. Think “hygge” from Denmark, or to a lesser extent “Lagom” from Sweden.
What Ikigai loosely translates to is having a purpose for your life – an overarching reason for why you get up in the morning. Something that makes your life meaningful and drives your efforts each day. When Ikigai first became known in a widespread way I latched on to it. At the time I had grown beyond my post-cancer “what if it comes back?” anxiety and was in a more reflective frame of mind. I began realizing that I would either die relatively young or not-so-young, but the timing was really out of my control and so not worth thinking about. What I wanted to concentrate on was living a life that mattered – creating some sort of a legacy. What did I want people to remember when they remembered who Michelle was? This became important to me, and Ikigai fit right into this mindset.
Many people outside of Japan are interested in Ikigai because there seems to be some correlation between the practice of Ikigai in certain communities in Japan and the longevity of the people in those communities. In fact, some reviews of the books on Ikigai I’ve seen emphasize that goal: “Fall’s biggest imported lifestyle trend is ikigai, and it just might help you live to 100”; other reviews emphasized the other pressing desire of just about all of us – living happier, more fulfilling lives. I really didn’t turn to ikigai for either of those reasons. Instead, Ikigai seemed to me to be a way to approach life in a way that prioritized creating my legacy.
And what would that legacy be? After thinking for a while, I decided that I wanted to be known for my love for others. I decided that my ikigai would be to manifest love in every aspect of my life. I took a piece of paper and wrote “manifest love” in the middle and circled it, and then drew several lines radiating outward to the edges of the page, like the spokes of a wheel or rays of sunshine. On each line I wrote an aspect of my life or a specific person in my life – Sam, Chris, Chloe, Family, Skyler (he was still with us at the time), Friends, Community, Workplace, World. Then I brainstormed specific things I could do to show love in a concrete way to each person and in each situation. I still refer to my ikigai chart and I think that this weekend I will update it to reflect my current situation (Skyler gone, working from home, etc). The goal, however, will stay the same.
The world is a crazy place right now. Let’s face it, the world has always been a crazy place, for as long as humans have run the show, but it feels especially crazy these days. And it feels especially out of our control right now, like a runaway train threatening to jump the tracks at every turn. Your response to this could be anger or despair (and believe me, I’ve seesawed between both of those feelings, especially in the last 24 hours). I’m choosing to go back to what I can control – myself, my attitude, my actions. I’m reacquainting myself with what I can do to project love into the world.
I choose to be the hummingbird.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
P.S. The hummingbirds that gave us so much joy this summer are currently traveling to warmer climes. I look forward to seeing them again next Spring.
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Hello there, friends! I am happy to report that I am healing nicely after last week’s wipe out. My mouth is almost back to normal – lets put it this way, if you saw me without my mask you wouldn’t cringe (I hope). I can now walk on my knee without any pain or need of support. I am taking it very slowly, though. No big walks around the neighborhood for a while yet.
This week I spent a lot of time watching our little hummingbird friends. Unfortunately, we have also had a constant stream of bees and wasps at the feeders. I remember that when I was a teacher this was my least favorite time of year to have outdoor recess duty. The bees do get a bit aggressive at this time of year, which I’ve read is due to a perfect storm of the population being at its peak in late summer, natural food sources running low, and preparing the hive for the winter. The hummingbirds are wary of the bees/wasps – they seem to prefer not feeding at the same time, and tend to fly away if a bee approaches the feeder while they are feeding. However, sometimes a bird’s got to do what a bird’s got to do, and they will put up with the insects in order to get their sugar fix.
Soon the hummingbirds will be migrating south again. Having never experienced this before I don’t know exactly when this will happen, but I’ve read that in late August/early September they will eat even more often to put on some weight for the journey (fun fact – hummingbirds don’t just eat nectar; their diet also consists of small insects like mosquitoes and aphids). Some articles I’ve read have described a sort of feeding frenzy, with many more visits to the feeder, as the migration date nears. So far our hummingbirds don’t like to share the multi-port feeder – if one approaches the feeder, the other zooms off. I wonder if that will change when they start feeding more.
I couldn’t narrow my photos down any further – I am just so fascinated with the different markings of all the birds who visit the feeders. If my photos look like we have very few males – well, we have very few adult males. The juvenile males look like the females (no red throat) until their first winter. However, females have nearly all-white throats and the juvenile males have more gray markings on their throats, so I can sort of guess which ones are which.
This weekend will be low key. No bike rides (ha!) and no walks outside yet. I am re-reading an old favorite book, The Shell Seekers by Rosamunde Pilcher. It’s a very cozy read, perfect for the rainy weather we’re having just now. I’ll spend most of the weekend reading, writing some letters, and keeping an eye on our little hummingbird friends.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Love,
Michelle xoxo
Yep, that’s me. I had so many plans for this weekend, but the first of them was a bike ride on Saturday morning. I found out that a major bike + hike trail was not very far from my house – about 2 miles or so through some adjacent neighborhoods – and Saturday morning I was going on an adventure to find the trail and ride on it a while. Fun!
Long story short, a bee got inside my bike helmet, I stopped too quickly in my excitement to get it out, and I was flipped over my handlebars. I am very lucky – my upper lip is swollen and torn up a bit but I didn’t break or lose any teeth. My right knee suffered some soft tissue damage, but X-rays showed no broken bones. It’s very painful, though, and I won’t be walking around the neighborhood or riding my bike for a little while.
All my weekend plans, gone with the buzzing of a bee.
It’s funny how life can turn on a dime like that – one minute you’re traveling happily down the road (literally or figuratively) with all sorts of expectations and plans, and the next minute everything’s changed. My tendency this weekend was to feel a bit sorry for myself, but then I realized that in the scale of human suffering, this was about a level 0.2. I think of people in California whose homes were in the path of the fires out there – one day they have a house and material possessions, the next they don’t. Or the people who are still dying at too high a rate of the coronavirus. And their families.
I think that of all the bad things that could have happened to me this weekend, I’ll take the bee. Pretty soon my lip will be healed and my knee will be working normally. Nothing has been taken from me permanently. And maybe something was given to me – a reminder that nothing that is working normally should ever be taken for granted – my knees, my mouth, my heart, my marriage, my source of income, my friendships. Everything in life can be, and will be, taken away from us eventually. Each normal, everyday moment is cause for gratitude.
I hope you lovely people had a perfectly uneventful weekend!
Love,
Michelle xoxo