Tuesday, August 27, 2013

A wee lending library found on my walk for coffee this morning. I love my neighborhood

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Diffusion of doubt and the effervescent action of hope: random thoughts from my morning walk

I find that organized  movement and processes provide examples.. metaphors for deeper truths. Perhaps that is one reason that when I am developing a new craft of skill, I get so energized by it that I am compelled to expound.   I have written about walking, knitting, spinning,weightlifting yoga, and now weaving.  I have discussed with anyone who would listen how each of these activities has illuminated to me the nature of change, life and God grace.  And it continues.
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Today I went for a walk.  I didn't want to, but I had told myself I would start before I could talk myself out of it and I did.  I hurt; I didn't get enough sleep, my pants were too tight. I felt old. But within a half mile a transition happened, as it always does. I know that happens, it was a discovery made the last time I started the habit of walking often and long.  In fact I rely upon it. I have found that while engaged in deep and abiding effort, when the sweat first starts to appear, doubt is diffused and hope arrives amid effervescence. 

 Diffusion is a" transport mechanism", if I remember my college class on thermodynamics correctly, diffusion flux is often described as action that is proportional to the negative gradient of concentrations. It goes from regions of higher concentration to regions of lower concentration, as Wiki describes. (had to confirm my memory) It was also described as a "random walk of the diffusing particles"...propelled by heat energy. 


 I experience diffusion as a wafting away into the miasma of dark filled bubbles,  with the ever expanding space between them slowly being filled with hope.  Or one could just say nature abhors a vacuum and as my mind empties I start to feel great. I like the word diffusion

I will pause while I think about  how I will return to my intended topic of weaving
as a metaphor.....

Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Poetry Posts and me - 2nd week

I live in a very literate neighborhood.  At least it appears so since within every block there is a poetry post
standing in the parking strip of at least one, often two houses.  Decorative and resembling a post where a bird feeder or house would sit, they have a frame with a protective glass and awning.  Each week, there is a new poem appearing in each of these posts.   I love the poems, but I especially love the fact that they exist.  It is lovely to know that my neighbors want to share and invite me into their yard to pause and read what they have offered.  Its a generous gift.

 This morning was an offering displayed from Langston Hughes and another by John Updike.  I liked the John Updike poem on Baseball.
BASEBALL
It looks easy from a distance,
easy and lazy, even,
until you stand up to the plate
and see the fastball sailing inside,
an inch from your chin,
or circle in the outfield
straining to get a bead
on a small black dot
a city block or more high,
a dark star that could fall
on your head like a leaden meteor.

The grass, the dirt, the deadly hops
between your feet and overeager glove:
football can be learned,
and basketball finessed, but
there is no hiding from baseball
the fact that some are chosen
and some are not—those whose mitts
feel too left-handed,
who are scared at third base
of the pulled line drive,
and at first base are scared
of the shortstop's wild throw
that stretches you out like a gutted deer.

There is nowhere to hide when the ball's
spotlight swivels your way,
and the chatter around you falls still,
and the mothers on the sidelines,
your own among them, hold their breaths,
and you whiff on a terrible pitch
or in the infield achieve
something with the ball so
ridiculous you blush for years.
It's easy to do. Baseball was
invented in America, where beneath
the good cheer and sly jazz the chance
of failure is everybody's right,
beginning with baseball. 
"Baseball" by John Updike, from Endpoint and Other Poems. © Alfred A. Knopf, 2009.
I like the fact that I live in a neighborhood with poetry posts, especially one that also reveals a dependable weekly habit of changing them so that regular walkers can stop for a breath with a meaningful pause. and each week read a new offering.  Its also especially definitive of this place that attached to a few of them is a dispenser with small disposable biodegradable baggies.  We are also a dog loving place.


NOTE: If you are interested in a poetry post, here is the link that will tell you ALL about it http://poetrypostspdx.com/

A comment on my habit forming dilemma of the week:  Chores first or walk, write, and craft first?  

Thursday, August 8, 2013

August 7, 2013
Poster from my party...sorry about the glare. 

A week ago I retired. From this new vantage point as a recent retiree, I have a glimpse of a new emerging perspective; one that will diverge from that of a harried, stressed and often preoccupied middle manager in public service. I am going to try and give some voice to this transition in the next few weeks.  I do not yet know if it will be of any use or interest to anyone other than myself, but I will try to be honest and true and not take myself or the situation too terribly seriously.

I wonder why I retired --- not certain yet why.  Perhaps I thought if I stayed in the job any longer I would be discovered as not really knowing how to do it. Part of me has suspected myself as being a fraud. Of course since I worked that job for close to 30 years, my inadequacy should have already been discovered.
 I suppose the why doesn't really matter. I only know I wanted to be rid of  all the excuses for not being who I want to be.

I want to be successful in retirement.  By that I mean I want to be content, healthy, interesting, productive well adjusted, committed, charitable, energetic, laughing, a good housekeeper, a creative writer...o yes...and thin. Perhaps that is too ambitious hopeful.  At least I want to never say the words," I'm bored."

After my first week, my first lessons

1.       I always thought what I needed to accomplish all I want to accomplish and to be what I know my inner self is, was to have more time.  Now I know the truth.  It’s not merely about having more time…its more about finding the energy and willingness to use the time I have efficiently.. Inertia is the enemy.  It’s too easy to stay in the place I am at any given moment and not do the next thing I had decided to do when I first planned the day. 

 2 After the first week, I am still building my routine; it may take a bit longer to master this.


3.  This is a lesson I learned long ago but it’s doubly affirmed …I must get up, put my lace up shoes on immediately and start with the first thing on the list…before I have a chance to start rationalizing about why I don’t need to do that next thing.

4. Be open to spontaneity.  Have a routine, hold it loose but be true to it.

5. Doing something during the day hard enough that I really sweat, feels good and helps me feel good about my day.

6.  Naps are wonderful