DAY 30!!!! Grace and Gratitude, Part Two

I want to have some elegant, graceful way to say this, but I spent two hours traipsing around the very wonderful Western Washington campus today, then drove six hours to Spokane where I am now on a touch-and-go internet connection at a hotel, and my brain is not functioning. I thought about posting something else just to get my 30th day in, but I decided to get this one done instead. Possibly it's better to be brief anyway.

No one has vehemently disagreed with my attempt to define grace yesterday, so I'm provisionally defining it as a sense of abundant acceptance that overflows into the ability to be personally generous.  In other words, we feel not just accepted as we are, but abundantly accepted--we're not just scraping by, but we are more than enough, exactly as we are.

Day 29: Grace and Gratitude, part one

I've been listening to a meditation series by Oprah and Deepak Chopra called "Manifesting Grace through Gratitude." You can be as skeptical as you want about Oprah's genuineness, given her enormous money making prowess, and you can be as cynical as you want about Deepak. And sometimes I'd agree. But I'm enjoying this series.

I still occasionally have grad-school-brain, though, and it bugs me a little that they never really define their terms (or at least, not so far, in the ones I've heard). What exactly do they mean by grace? How do you manifest grace? Why is gratitude the key? They seem to hold these truths to be self-evident, but they're not all that obvious to me.

Day 28: pain and its relief

A couple of weeks ago I was flipping channels on Sunday night and I ran across an episode of 60 Minutes that was about teenagers who have died from heroin overdose after getting hooked on painkillers. Astoundingly, heroin is cheaper and easier to get than prescription painkillers.

The five minutes of the show that I saw showed a group of parents, probably a dozen of them, who were dealing with the unimaginable pain of losing a child to heroin overdose--something that anyone our age associates with inner city, ghetto crime, not life as we know it. I found myself tearing up as I listened to their grief and pain.

7ToF: Black Friday edition

1. We don't usually shop on Black Friday, not because of any moral high ground, but because I can't stand crowds. But since we'll be in Seattle this year, we may have to make an exception. We haven't exactly figured out what we're doing yet. We've got the weekend with Mel and our friends Kami and Laurel, and then Monday and Tuesday Sam and I are doing a couple of college tours. Should be a fun trip. Shopping may occur.

2. I do, however, have moral high ground feelings about shopping on Thanksgiving day. I'm not religious about Thanksgiving, but can't some things be exempt from consumerism? Can't we wait one full day to start the shopping extravaganza? Although I don't usually shop on Black Friday, I get that a lot of people think it's fun--sort of like a safari. I can understand that, and after all, most of us do have shopping we need to do for Christmas. I concede Black Friday. But to me, shopping on Thanksgiving day is just wrong. And if nobody went, they wouldn't do it. This is something we bring on ourselves.

3. But on the other hand, why worry about it? I mostly ignore it. If somebody else thinks it's a good idea, why do I care? I can imagine someone who has no one to spend Thanksgiving with, who has whiled away the day while everything is closed watching football or poking around online, who might be overjoyed at the chance to get out of the house and go somewhere Thanksgiving night. So maybe I should just get over my moral outrage and leave it alone.

Actually, now that I think about it, when I was in my late teens/early twenties, we used to load up the family and all go see a movie on Thanksgiving night. It's not shopping, but it's still an activity that requires employees to cut short their holiday. Hmmmm. I am reconsidering my Thanksgiving shopping aversion.

4. I truly, truly need a break from Facebook. Intellectually I know that if someone does or doesn't respond to something I say on Facebook, it most likely has nothing to do with me. But knowing that intellectually and dealing with in reality are two different things. Whenever I start getting paranoid about things that people are or aren't saying to me on FB, I know it's time for a break for at least a couple of weeks. Let me know if I miss anything exciting. (in all the times I've taken FB breaks, I don't think I've ever missed anything exciting.)

5. We've had Sam's best buds here a couple of evenings this week, including a sleepover last night. They're great guys. You know and expect that you'll miss your kid when they move out, but I think the fact that you'll miss their friends gets less press. It's going to be awfully quiet around here next year.

6. I've had several conversations with people recently about food fads, and how the food(s) that everyone is avoiding today will be the ones you should prioritize in a couple of years (think eggs, or coconut oil, or red meat). But you know what food advice never, ever changes? Eat your vegetables. That has never changed from childhood until now. We should swap our favorite ways to fix veggies.

7. This was going to be its own entire post, but I think I'll just say it briefly instead. The post title would have been "Hold on Loosely" and I was going to riff on Julie's statement that we're all wrong, constantly. We get so attached to our own opinions, our own interpretations of events, our sure "knowledge" of what is capital-R Right. But we're still limited by our backgrounds, our inability to know the future, our penchant for simplifying complex problems down to the bits of them we want to see. There's just not much point in getting attached to our opinions. If we're willing to stay open, sometimes we get new, unexpected insights.

Have a great weekend. Hold on loosely.

Day 26: dealing with my beloved, stressful dad, aka how to survive family visits

Happy Thanksgiving! Whether you're with loved ones or not, whether that makes you happy or sad, I hope you have a nice day off from your usual routine. And Happy Thursday to my non-US readers.

In honor of the family time that usually happens at Thanksgiving, today's post is about dealing with difficult family visits. We live about 2,000 miles from either of our families, so going to visit them is a big deal that doesn't happen more than once a year. Twenty years ago, when I was in my early thirties and not getting along with my dad at all, visits to family would cause such major stress that it would take me a month or more to recover when we returned home.

Day 25: oh the weather outside is frightful

We had our first real winter storm today. It was a typical winter storm for us, the kind we get 2-3 times a year: half a foot of snow coming down sideways. (Hmmm, is it coming down if it's blowing sideways?) Of course, there are the ones that are considerably worse, which we only get once a year, or maybe twice.

And although I never like it when this happens in November, it's not like it's the first time we've had one this early. The worst experience I had during the three years I drove back and forth to Missoula for grad school was in November.

We lived through this one. A friend ended up in a ditch, I saw three fender benders, and traffic was a bear, but the house is warm and we didn't lose power, so it's all good. And the boys are thrilled because skiing.

Day 24: seven things worth clicking on

Does it count as a post for NaBloPoMo if I do something lame like a list of links? hope so. I pre-wrote this for Friday since we'll be in Seattle, but then I didn't have time to write something for tomorrow. I'm confusing myself.

Day 23: the post of shame

OK, I'm not really ashamed, that was just to make you laugh. But I am a bit embarrassed, and I was going to tack this on to the end of last night's post in just a sentence or two so maybe no one would notice. But then I decided it would be better as an entire post on its own, because it might work better to motivate me to change my ways if I put up here front and center on Monday morning.

Friday my spouse and I went in to our local athletic facility for our healthy lifestyles checkup, the one I told you about in this post that we did a year ago. Last year we passed easily, which meant we got a reduction in our deductible. This year, we passed again, but I didn't do nearly as well.

Day 22: I gotta post something

I really don't want to stay up until midnight tonight hoping inspiration will strike, so I'm trying to think of something to tell you for today's post. Because tick tock, Sunday is fast fading away.

OK, here is something quick. I almost never do short posts, so I am giving myself a pass this time. Gentle reader Muriel e-mailed me asked why I avoid Wal-Mart, as I stated in Friday's post.

Day 21: Last Saturday was skin, so this Saturday will be hair. har.

I was planning something else for today, but we ended up deciding to get out of town this weekend and we will be out of internet range, so it has to be something I can type out in fifteen minutes. Hence, hair.

I first heard about the "no-poo" (no shampoo) idea several years ago--in fact, I wrote about my experiment with it in #4 of this post. The idea is that when you wash your hair, you strip off all the natural oil and create the need for a bunch of hair products that you otherwise wouldn't need.

7ToF: the dishes rattle in the cupboard when the elephants arrive

1. We were supposed to get our first real snow this week, but although some flakes fell, it was mainly sleety rain. I'm only a marginal skiier myself, but the avid skiiers in the family are avidly looking forward to some major dumps.

2. We had a great time in Colorado at my nephew's wedding. It's wonderful to attend a wedding where the couple looks so radiantly happy. Also spent some good time with my mom, my sisters and their families and one of my favorite cousins. But weddings tend to be about the wedding (funny thing, that), and there's never as much time to talk as you wish there would be. Fortunately it's time for the next triennial family reunion next summer so I will see them all again soon (and Cheery-o, too).

TBT: The Feel Bad post

This is the post from my old blog that has almost twice as many pageviews as any other post I've written. I edited it quite a bit to shorten it. Originally published January 2012. It's a bit of a rant so avoid if you're not in the mood to be ranted at.

Day 18: an excess of books and my scariest midlife fear

Blogger picks up the first photo in a post and uses it in the RSS feed, so I'm putting this photo here as a placeholder, and also because I knew some of you would be as fascinated as I was. The rehearsal dinner for my nephew's wedding was held in the home of some friends of his. In their basement, they had thousands, I mean thousands, of books. There were so many crammed into the "library" that there was no good way to take a picture. So here is one row (there were four? five?) just to give you the idea. I've never been anywhere that made me feel better about my own obsessive book buying.

Day 17: object lessons from our animals

I.

By the time puppy Sadie arrived at our house, our elderly mutt Jazz was way too decrepit to jump into the car without help. So Sadie somehow decided that dogs must always need help to get into the backseat of a car. She can do spectacular flying leaps to catch her tennis ball in mid-air, she can hurdle a four foot retaining wall with ease. But she absolutely will not jump eighteen inches to get into the car.

Day 16: You look like the sort of angel I'd get. Sort of a fallen angel. What happened to your wings?

Does anyone make it to their mid-fifties without having a few doubts about what the heck they've been doing for the past fifty years? Maybe, but apparently not me. I've even written about this before, but apparently I'm not over it yet.

TBT why I still go to church

This is a slightly edited version of the second half of this post. The first half was about what I believed back in 2005, this part is about why I still go to church, a different question. I used to think that since I had my own special relationship with God, I didn't really need church. Now I feel almost the opposite--church serves its own purpose in my life, regardless of how I'm feeling about God on any given day.

Day 14: OK, this is how low we've sunk. Another makeup post.

Back when I wrote that "favorite cheap things" list, I said I'd do another one on cheap beauty stuff. Here you go.

7ToF: Friday the 13th edition. And by the way, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!

1. I wouldn't exactly describe myself as superstitious, but I'm aware of it enough that I can't walk under a ladder, or break a mirror, or see the date on Friday the 13th, without knowing that it's supposed to be unlucky. I even notice if I step on a sidewalk crack--I don't worry about my poor mom's back, but I do notice. Wait a  minute, she has been having some back pain recently.... OK, kidding. I read somewhere a couple of weeks ago that kids today (those elusive Kids Today) are no longer superstitious at all. As confirmation of this rumor, I offer my nephew, who is getting married today. I don't believe there's anything to the whole Friday the 13th thing, but I don't think I would be able to get married on Friday the 13th.

TBT: What I believed, ten years later

I wrote this back in 2005, when my blog was specifically about my religious beliefs. In some ways, nothing has changed, although I think I used to be more sincere. I might not word things quite the same now. Also, I've become a bit more conventional over time, a bit less afraid of letting myself follow a particular tradition. (AuntBeaN was my blog name in my old blog.)
-----------------------------
In Which Aunt BeaN Attempts to Make Sense of Various Things Which Are Too Big for a BeaN of Little Brain.

So the purported subject of this particular post is supposed to be what I believe now. And why I still go to church, and believe me, I'm not sure I have the answer to that one sometimes myself. I've been putting this off for ages because it's hard to figure out how to say some things, and also because it sounds so pompous and self-important to announce What I Believe, as if you are sure everyone wants to know. So I just want to say in advance that if this sounds pretentious, at least I know I sound pretentious and I feel bad about it. OK?

Day 11: Betty Neels, part two

(edited 12/21/15)
So if they're so predictable, why do I enjoy them so much? Lord knows, but I'll try explain. Part of it is because they're like a security blanket, you know what you're getting. Pure comfort read. Part of it is because given Neels' background and her generation--and that's a caveat that must always be remembered when reading Neels--her heroines are strong, interesting people. Part of it is to see what she does with her standard format--she gets a surprising amount of variety out of her strict formula. Neels is the master of the great hook--the setup that sucks you into the story. Some of her first chapters are like mini master classes in how to reel in the reader. She's amazingly inventive (again, within the constraints of her formula).

Day 10: Betty Neels, part one

(Edited 1/3/2016 to fix errors pointed out by Betty Anonymous in the comments. Thanks, Betty!)

This post kept getting longer and longer, so I divided it into two. Don't judge. I know there are some of you who are never going to read Betty Neels, but I needed more posts this week and it was already 1500 words and I wasn't even done yet. Eeesh.

I told you I've been reading Betty Neels, prolific author of cookie cutter British romance novels, for months now. I got my original stash when I needed to use up my credits at paperbackswap.com, but they're also available on kindle. There are well over a hundred of them, and I've "only" read about a third. Based on Goodreads reviews, I've read all the good ones, though, so it's probably time to stop.

Day 9: this one is going up late, but it is done

Now that I'm nine days into NaBloPoMo, it occurs to me that the exact same thing happened the last two times I did this. Ahead of time, it sounds like a great idea. I come up with lists of topics to write about, I confidently suppose that other ideas will occur to me as the month goes on.

Then the damn thing actually starts, all my ideas evaporate, and I'm left with a dilemma: bail, or keep writing drivel. I think you know me well enough by now to know that drivel is about to ensue, so bear with me. Since we'll be out of town for four days this week, I need to write six posts in the next two days.

Oh you poor dears.

Day 8: and we lived happily ever after

The post that goes with the previous one is definitely not ready, so on a different topic.... Let's talk about happy endings. Books, stories, movies. I love them. I loved them as a child. I loved them as a teenager.

Then I got to college and learned that happy endings are bad. They're unrealistic. They're sappy and sentimental. They're stupid. The intellectuals surrounding me had nothing but disdain--sneering disdain--for any thing that ended with me smiling and feeling warmly about the human race. Is there any influence that's harder to deflect than sneering disdain?

defining terms

Before I go off on my next idea, I've got some explaining to do. I want to be able to use the word "God," but of course, when I use that word it may mean something entirely different to me than what it means to you, leading to some confusion.

a moment of silence for Jazz

Jazz, our elderly mutt, passed peacefully in her sleep this afternoon. She was so frail and unsteady on her feet for so long that we are equally relieved and sad. She led a good life and we will miss her.

And that's all I've got today.

TBT: I have con-fi-dence in con-fi-dence alooooone

(for throwback Thursday, here is a slightly edited post from October 2011, when I had been through a huge, paralyzing crisis of confidence after going back to grad school in my late forties)

Day 4: in which I explain an off-hand comment in yesterday's post that is bugging me

In yesterday's post, I said something about "when I was in my feminist phase" as if I weren't a feminist anymore. I went back this morning to re-word it--change it to something like "when I was in my enraged feminist phase, as opposed to my current merely irritated feminist phase" (kidding) but it seemed a bit excessive for a list item about toenail polish, and I didn't want to re-publish the post, etc. I know, you're yawning.

Day 3: in which I realize that none of my 14 ideas for posts is any good

I have a list of possible posts for this month. I started it back in September, because I already knew I would do this. I skipped last year because I wasn't blogging at all, but I've done it (NaBloPoMo in November) twice before.

But the problem, as I read over the list, is that they're all serious. There's not a single one that's going to make me smile, let alone you. And we just got done re-watching The Hunger Games and I need to lighten up so I can go to sleep. I hate tense movies, but I got out-voted on what movie to watch tonight, and even though it's tense and sometimes awful to watch, I have to confess that Hunger Games is a good story.

*goes away and thinks for awhile*

OK, I have an idea: a list.

SEVEN THINGS I DO THAT I SWORE I'D NEVER DO:

Mid-Life: the Empty Nest

All around me, friends far and near are sending their kids off to college. We did it with our daughter seven years ago, and we'll be doing it again next year--our son is a senior in high school this year. It's a well-known stage of parenting, just like potty-training, PTA, and surviving The Talk (the birds and the bees one).

It's not an easy thing to do, even if you're ready--and we were; there's nothing like spending a year with a 17-year-old girl to convince you that you're ready for her to move out.  And she was more than ready. We have plenty of other things in our lives to keep us busy and happy and entertained. But it was still like lopping off my left arm and driving away.

Square what circle?

Months ago, not long after I started this blog, I wrote a post about how my wacky midlife hormones had left me angry all the time. Not just vaguely irritated, but spitting-nails-run-for-cover-don't-bother-mom pissed. In fact, when I was trying to figure out a name for the new blog, that was what I started with-- I wanted a title that reflected how downright mad I was about life. My favorite possible title was "Flying the Bird." Because... well, *clears throat* because.

Fortunately, everyone I checked with told me that was a dumb title. Wait, one person said. Do you mean "flying the bird" like "extending your middle finger"? She was a bit unsettled by the idea, but yep, that's what I meant. I'm really glad I didn't go with that, because like all hormonal moments, the constant anger passed, and I would probably be embarrassed now if my blog was called Flying the Bird.

Probably.

So anyway. I had to think of something else, and it occurred to me that Dante's Divine Comedy is really the story of a midlife crisis. Midway through life, he loses his way in a wood, and before you know it there are the gates of Hell before him: "Abandon hope all ye who enter here." I spent a really wonderful semester a few years ago studying Dante, so it was fairly fresh in my mind.

My favorite moment in that long poem cycle is when Dante and his guide Virgil emerge from hell. After long hours of slogging through ever more horrifying scenes of torment, weighed down by the stinking, putrid air, the screams and howls of the damned ringing in their ears, they emerge into fresh, cool night air and the sight of stars twinkling above them.

I wanted a line that reflected that moment, but the actual words "then we came forth, to see again the stars" didn't make much of a title. To See Again the Stars sounds like a cheesy romance novel. Not that I have anything against cheesy romance novels.

So I flipped over to the very end, after Dante has continued his journey through Purgatory and the lower levels of Paradise, until he finally reaches the heavens in all their splendor, a sight so spectacularly gorgeous that words cannot describe it. He likens the dilemma of trying to explain what he sees to the ancient mathematical conundrum of how to square a circle--in other words, an impossible task.

I haven't had any visions of glory (if I do, you'll be the first to know), but I liked the idea-- at midlife, I'm pretty thoroughly aware that trying to get a handle on my experience is beyond me. Way beyond.

But I still try. Hence "To Square a Circle." And then, when I was reading Ulysses last spring, I found the line there, too. And that clinched it. 

I told you in the very first post in this blog that someday I would explain the title, so there you go.

(And p.s. I know I told you we would be out of range today, but the weather turned wet and windy so we ended up staying home.)