hell to get old

"It's hell to get old," my father said to me, the last time I talked to him.  "You can't do any of the things you used to like to do any more.  You don't feel well and it's no fun at all."

The last I talked to my stepsister, my father's liver was failing and she was taking my stepmother to see my father one last time.  Don's booking tickets, my brother is already there.  I know my daddy is tired of being sick and being bored and being old.

I don't think he has to worry about getting too much older.
 

looking forward, looking back

The bitter and the sweet side of life collided last night with a call from my stepsister in California, that my dad has been admitted to the ICU and was not expected to survive the night.  By 130 AM, however, his condition had stabilized, and I remain cautiously optimistic.  The last I heard, he was in very critical condition, but his kidneys had begun to function again, and his blood chemistry was improving. 

It's not too often that the Door swings wide in both directions at once.  Losing my father in practically the same moment I gain a grandchild seems like it would be too coincidental and synchronistic even for me. 

And yet. 

For some reason I keep remembering the morning my oldest daughter was born.  As I lay in that sweaty post-birth state of near delirum, listening to my newborn baby make noises like a kitten, I realized that her grandchildren - my great-grandchildren - would most likely live to see the 22nd century.  I thought about my great-grandparents, who were born in the 19th century.  Contemplating that span of three hundred years, I felt a twinge of connection to something that I believe is as close to immortality as it's possible to come.   

welcome to the world...

Grace Elizabeth Percival ...

 arrived 6:01 PM...7 lbs, 14 oz.  20 inches.

"The best days are the days that babies come."
                                                    Louisa May Alcott, Little Women

Pretty Things

I have a lot of pretty things.  I collect them - when I worked I wore a lot of them.  But since I've been mostly working from home, I got out of the habit of wearing my pretty things. 

Why don't you try wearing some of your pretty things, my friend Doreen suggested.  Just for you...to make you feel pretty. 

And so I've been doing just that.  Today I didn't have to be anywhere special, but I made a point of putting on a necklace and earrings to go with my hot pink sweater and turtleneck. 

My, you look pretty, two random people said. 

I can't wait for tomorrow to play with more of my pretty things. 

Tired of my clothes

I'm tired of my clothes, or more specifically, I'm tired of wearing jeans.  It seems that but for the brief respite in Hawaii, when I didn't even look at the jeans I'd worn to San Francisco, I've worn jeans in some form or fashion just about every day since last October.  And if that's not true, it still feels like it. 

I was bemoaning this fact to my friend Doreen who specializes in motivating people to change.  She suggested I go into some of the local stores and just try some things on. 

The very next day in the mail I received a catalogue from a store with just the kind of clothes I'm looking for - soft, comfortable and not jeans.  It also has a shop close enough to get to, and far enough away to be an outing - or, in Artists' Way terms... an "artist's date."

What about you, Gentle Reader?  Do you ever get tired of your clothes? What else do you wear, besides jeans (and sweats) that are just as comfy? 

Morning Pages

One of the key elements of an "Artists' Way" practice as created by Julia Cameron is a daily dose of writing she calls "Morning Pages."  For me, this has always been a source of resistance.  It's hard to make myself sit and just write.  It took me a few years to figure out why that was so and once I did, I realized I was finally ready to begin the practice, because, if you're not ready to committ to doing Morning Pages, in some ways you're not ready to do the Artists' Way.   

Morning Pages insist you pay attention to yourself.  Eating...the Angel Way encourages you to pay attention to yourself; Morning Pages require it.  That is not so easy.  I have come to find there's lots of places I'd really rather not go.  And what's interesting is that these are not necessarily negative aspects - these are as much unrealized positive aspects that are lying like lumps of gold in deep places I just don't give myself much time to go digging around in. 

But Morning Pages do. 

Mantra for change

It's been difficult to get myself moving these days.  Faced with large-scale, monumental Change as I am right now, my tendency is to retreat, cocoon, hunker down, keep my head low and hope the storm passes quickly. 

That strategy, alas, like other survivor strategies I developed along the way, isn't so effective, but since it's the one I've relied on for so long, I'm finding it especially hard to change it.  Most days, I find myself feeling as if I'm moving through a thick sludge of all the possibilities and details.  It would be very easy to come to a complete stop, crawl under my pillow and pull the covers over my head some days. 

But that's not going to help, I've realized.  And so, when I find myself feeling like that, I've started to ask myself this question:  Do you want to continue to feel like sludge? Or do you want to feel as if you are making some small step toward positive change? 

I can't tell you, Gentle Reader, how often I ask myself those questions these days.  But it seems to do the trick - no matter how sludgy I might feeling, so far it's done the trick to keep me forging ever so slowly down my to-do list into the future. 

What about you, Gentle Readers?  What keeps you motivated when faced with inescapable change? 

Getting the "juice"

People sometimes ask me what exactly an "intuitive" writing coach is, and what makes me different from any other writing coach.  And sometimes (frequently) I find it difficult to put into words exactly what it is that makes me different.  But a perfect example of what makes me different is the reading-session I did with a friend this morning, who is in the process of finishing a very personal memoir.  She's already someone who inspires many people to do great things; I hope she finishes her memoir soon because I'm sure it will inspire many more. 

However, my friend is experiencing some creative block - not necessarily in her writing, per se. 

As we walked this morning, she shared with me that part of her block extends to her sexuality as well.  "How can I get past this, Annie?" she asked. 

The guidance I got for my friend was that writing - like any creative process - is inherently sexual.  Sexual acivity is generative by its very nature...people who are highly creative are highly sexual, even if they choose not to express that sexuality overtly.  The blocks she was experiencing were related to theraputic work she was doing with other practitioners.  To deny herself sexual expression, she was cutting off the primal source of her own creative energy. 

The guidance I was able to give my friend included the suggestion to write the most highly charged erotica she was capable of for twenty minutes every day.   This was to be for her eyes only ....however, I wouldn't be surprised if my friend became the next A.N. Rocqueclare.

Sexuality is one of our most fundamental birthrights as human beings, and - like food - one of the most highly fraught arenas in society, religion and family.  But artists thrive on creative energy, artists require a certain amount of it in order to produce, in order to create. 

The next time you're feeling blocked, Gentle Reader, ask yourself when the last time you connected to that most primal source of your creativity? 

 

Granny Annie's Irish Coffee

or, communing with spirits of another sort...

This is what I'll be drinking on Dead-Celtic-Pagans Day:

1 shot Middleton's whiskey (or any whiskey, preferably Irish)
3 Tbs Sweet Cream ice cream (vanilla will do in a pinch)
1 cup hot coffee

Pour whiskey into bottom of coffee mug.  Add ice cream.  Pour hot coffee on top.  If you have a brewing machine, use the smallest cup setting and allow the hot coffee to brew directly into the mug.  The top gets a creamy foamy head. 

Slainte!

Eating for One

A few weeks ago, I found myself in the grocery store.  What made this trip so memorable among all the trips I've made to the grocery store, and all the time I've spent shopping over the last 31+ years is that this was the first time SINCE COLLEGE I was there to shop only for myself. 

Since I consider coffee one of the four main food groups, it was easy to remember I needed milk.  Other than that, I hadn't bothered to make a list because, after all, I figured, I know what I like to eat.  Right?

Was I wrong. 

After fifteen minutes of marching through the store at what felt like triple my normal speed, I had exactly two items in my cart besides the milk: two pints of strawberries.  Then I stopped in front of the yogurt display.  This, at least, I reasoned, would be easy... I love yogurt.  Right?

Was I wrong.  What I realized after perhaps five full minutes of staring at the flavors (and suddenly there seemed twice the number of flavors I'd ever seen before) was that I don't know what flavors I REALLY like.  I know what Meg likes.  I know what Libby likes.  I even know what Don likes. 

But me....the one who can live on yogurt? I had to think hard about what flavors I REALLY like. 

I had a revelation standing in front of the yogurt that day.  I realized just how much of the food I'd been buying, preparing and eating over the last thirty years had been bought, prepared and cooked for other people...to the point where it was hard for me to remember what it was *I* really prefer. 

I made another trip around the grocery store that day.  I went back to the front, to the produce aisle and I took my time the second time around. 

sic transit gloria mundi

That's one of my favorite quotes in Latin.  Basically it means "thus passes the world's glory," implying that all things pass away and all things change. 

And when things stop changing, you're dead.

But understanding that change is not just a part of life, but the essence and the substance of life itself is something else entirely, and living it... well, that's the difficult part. 

All things change, but that doesn't mean all change is easy. 

On the other hand, perennial optimist that I am, I know there's a lot of good in change...it means you get to wipe the slate clean... you get to start over.  As one of the snowiest winters on records melts into spring, the enormity of the changes I'm facing slam into me sometimes like a sledgehammer to the solar plexus. 

One of my other favorite sayings is "that which doesn't kill you makes you strong."  That was my mantra the last time I went through the last round of radical change.  After this one, I should be able to lead the resistance when the aliens land ...well, in at least whatever place I happen to land in next.   

So welcome to my new blog, and to some degree, my new life.  I hope you'll stop now and then to read about it, because I really don't have any idea what's going to happen next. 

Did you know that March...

...is National Nutrition Month? In honor of this, my co-writer Karen Rider and I are concentrating on spreading the word about Eating...the Angel Way.  We'll even offer some incentives ...THREE GREAT prizes that will include some of our favorite Angel treats - like lavender tea.   Jump over to Eating...the Angel Way, check out the downloadable version of the Ten Guidelines Karen created, and join in the fun!  I'm thinking at least three different ways to win! 

and furthermore, the war will end.  blessed be. 

check out what the Angels have to say...

Did you know March is National Nutrition Month?  Neither did I until my friend Rose of Walk In The Woods, LLC made me aware of it! 

Are you in the process of adapting to a healthier lifestyle?  The Angels have Guidelines to share and messages to help...please check them out at ...Eating...the Angel Way. 

and furthermore, the war will end.  blessed be.

viva la revolution

i wrote this in response to a writing prompt on "new year's resolutions - why you make them, why you break them."

Viva la Revolution
A resolution has a weight,
Dragged from place to place,
Implacable as granite girdled round a waist
Or draped like moldering albatrosses,
Displayed for all to see.
Making promises
I break because I can
Wastes time I don't have.
But substitute
One single little letter –
That makes a change I can
Wholeheartedly embrace –
Give me my “New Year’s revolutions" -
Isn’t change what resolutions are about?

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.

i must go down to the seas again

home. Beloved and i were talking about home last night, sitting on the deck outside our room here in kona. where is it, what does it mean and how do you know when you're there?

for at least a part of me, the sound of the ocean, the smell of the salt air and the screech of the sea birds is home. i grew up hearing its intermittent roar - on saturday mornings when my father would take us down to the beach to walk, in the evenings, when my grandmother took us to the rides, in the afternoons when my mother hauled us faithfully down to the beach to play.

i loved to sit and watch the waves...long after i outgrew the need to jump them, i've never tired of sitting on the sand and watching the waves roll in. so here i am, perched on the edge of an island in the middle of the biggest ocean in the world...watching the waves, and feeling like i'm home.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.

it is the dawning...

of the sun in aquarius. even though the outside world is frozen still and white, the light is brighter than it was, more golden and intense. in the trees, i hear a bird calling, the first i've heard in months that's not the harsh cawing of the crows.

things have been happening here, too. the Angel book is under consideration; i'm tweaking a manuscript to send to a new agent. a casual writing acquaintance bubbled up out of the blue with an opportunity that offers a way for me to utilize my skills in a way that will help others and myself.

im finding the more questions i ask, the more answers i get.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.

happy new year

...and the lights went dark.

i'll be honest, Gentle Readers...my life's turned upside down and inside out in ways i was completely not expecting. or maybe i WAS expecting it...and was just hoping against hope nothing was ever going to happen.

sort of the way most of us think about dying.

suffice it to say that in the last month since i posted, things have changed with a capital C, and whether these changes are good changes or bad changes or permanent changes or temporary, i have absolutely no idea.

all i know is that the winds of change are blowing fierce and hard. it gets scary at times, especially when i try to peer into the darkness i see llooming all around me. my last post seems eerily prophectic and hopelessly naive. and yet... and yet i DO hear the new song ringing.

what it is, and what it will ultimately sound like...it's still too soon to say.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.

in the bleak midwinter

im listening to the frosty wind alternately roaring and moaning in the trees. sitting here, in the darkness, the sky outside my window is black as night. if the calendar says winter begins today, the wind sounds as if its been winter for a good long time.

according to the ancient celts, winter began on hallowe'en - on samhain - on the night that literally means "summer's end." this is why the solstice occurs at "mid-winter" - we are now half way from the end of summer to the beginning of what's considered spring in the celtic countries...imbolc, the feast of the first milk.

but here, now, as we have done in the northern hemisphere ever since we marched ourselves out of africa, im huddled around a flickering light - even if it is my laptop - with a dog cuddled around my feet and a blanket around my back.

it feels like midwinter.

all around me things are changing - my life next time this year will most likely be very different. in just about nine very short months, my youngest will leave for college. an ocean of time and energy as i have never had available to me in my life stretches before me, a void that begs to be filled. it would be easy - and tempting - to focus on what will be lost.

and yet, what will be gained tantalizes, just like the sky has brightened in the time it's taken me to type these words, turning from inky black to milky blue in a shift nearly imperceptible until after its occured.

for the last 24 hours, a song has been running through my head, an american folk hymn that i think perfectly describes where i am at this moment in time:

my life goes on in endless song
above earth's lamentations.
i catch the real though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.
through all the tumult and the strife
i hear the music ringing;
it sounds an echo in my soul -
how can i keep from singing?

what though the tempest round me roars
i hear the truth it bringeth
and though the darkness round me grows
songs in the night it giveth.
no storm can shake my inmost calm
while to this rock im clinging:
since Love is lord of heaven and earth
how can i keep from singing?

may all your songs be merry and all your knights be bright...blessed solstice, everyone!

oh, holy night

brightest thoughts on this darkest of nights...blessed, blessed be!

grow 'em up, move 'em out

my third baby is graduating from uconn this month - with honors no less. she was just offered her first "real" job and is making plans to move to boston. my son is buying his first house this month. my youngest was just accepted into the national honor society.

no one has ever mistaken me for a helicopter parent. my attitude toward parenting, in fact, has sometimes been described as casual to the point of laissez-faire. but whatever it is, im doing...i'm growing more and more certain i've done it right.

so for all the parents who are worried about your precious little darlings in a mean old world - this is how it's done.

1. The goal of every parent should be to put yourself out of a job. Repeat that after me, boys and girls.... YOUR GOAL IS TO PUT YOURSELF OUT OF A JOB. to this end, everything you do, every decision you make regarding your offspring should be made with the primary consideration - will this foster independence or will it foster dependence? Consider that by the time my son was four, he was capable of getting a simple breakfast together not only for himself but for his little sister. One Saturday morning, while lying in bed listening to the sweet sound of little feet running around the kitchen, my exhusband asked me if I didn't feel guilty lying in bed while the kids were fixing themselves breakfast. "Well," I said, after a moment's consideration. "I suppose I could feel guilty about it. Or, when i get up, i could congratulate Jamie on being so capable he can not only feed himsefl, he can feed his baby sister, too. So instead of feeling guilty, I'm going to lie here and feel proud." (Shut the husband right up.)

2. Keep the rules simple. I've only ever had two. 1 - You're not allowed to do anything to hurt yourself and 2 - you're not allowed to do anything that will hurt someone else or someone else's property. If you think about it, these rules cover all contingencies. One of the psychologists my ex tried to get to say I was unsuitable parent actually congratulated me on what he characterized as "the simple elegance" of these rules.

3. Set high standards. Provide all the help and support needed, but do not ever do the work. I never help with homework beyond a few edits. As I explained to all my children, I did my time in grade school, high school and college. They let me out. I didn't have to repeat any grades and I certainly didn't intend to repeat them four times. When it was time to do homework, either the kids did it themselves,or they didn't. If they didn't, I allowed the teacher to set the consequences.

4. Speaking of consequences, make them count. As my oldest daughter once said, the wrath of God would be preferable to what could happen if I had to mete out the punishment. When Katie was in kindergarten, she decided to walk home from school one day with a little friend. When she didn't get off the school bus as expected, her nanny pressed the panic button. When she and her little friend sauntered down the street, she was greeted by not just her nanny but also by me. Katie was grounded for two weeks. The other child's mother actually called me to talk me out of the punishment but I stuck to my guns and little Katie sat inside for two glorious weeks watching the other kids play. But I NEVER had to ground her again.

5. Don't pretend to be perfect. If you allow your children to see your limitations, they will be free to be less than perfect themselves. I don't have perfect children - I just have amazing children. They're no more perfect than I am. If you're not room mommy material, say so. If field trips and bake sales and cub scouts are your thing, go for it. But if they're not, don't feel obligated. It's far more important that your children understand that you are a person with needs, wishes, desires and limitations than that they think you're infallible or even interested in the stuff they are. Trust me, they'll figure out that you aren't on their own soon enough.

Don't get me wrong - it wasn't easy to raise four children, mostly on my own. It got easier of course, after I dumped mister-ex (and yes, its MUCH easier to raise kids when you're not saddled with a dysfunctional partner, but that's a topic for another blog.) Right now, I'm going to pour myself a shot of Middleton's and toast myself - and my wonderful, amazing kids.

and furthermore, the war will end. blessed be.