Good Intentions

© Ryan Smith Photography

Do you ever feel like you're trapped in your day the moment you wake up? Like you can't quite grasp what it is you really want to do or accomplish, so you go through the motions of obligations or things you feel you should do? You spend most of the day with a vague sense that you're not really doing what you were meant to do, just what you're supposed to do.

Today was, for once, not one of those days. It easily could have been. I awoke feeling aimless and adrift. I got up and walked mindlessly down to the kitchen to let my dog out and observe the fresh blanket of snow that had been deposited overnight. Then I stared blankly out the kitchen window as I drank a glass of water, wondering if I would spend the entire day as I did the day before, unfocused and slightly dissatisfied, but not knowing why. And then it happened - a moment that shifted the trajectory of the entire day.

It was so simple. From my window, I spotted a neighbor's dog far off in the field next to our house. And he was absolutely delighting in the snow. He was alone and unattended, but completely immersed in running in circles and hopping around in the white fluff. His ears and posture were perked and eager, his tail wagged as he strutted about.

Suddenly, my day had intention again. Watching the dog for just a few moments reminded me of the essence of being. It was one of those rare glimpses, that seem to come so few and far between, of something akin to the meaning of life. How do we forget so easily? I set my glass down on the counter and ran upstairs to change. I knew I had to get outside and play, too.

So, I took the dog's lead and traipsed outside through the snowy woods with my dog and husband. We often venture out for morning walks or jogs, but because I had been given a lesson in intention, this morning felt different. I knew I needed to have this much intention each morning before I start slogging through the day.

Later, at my desk, I chanced upon an article by Christine Kane about the importance of having a morning ritual. I usually have somewhat of a routine in the morning and already do many of the things she suggests (yes, I do use a Neti Pot habitually), but have yet to make these things part of a ritual. So I took her advice and wrote out my morning ritual. Now I can begin each day with intention and focus, and not have to rely on the neighbor's dog to remind me!

I give thanks to that little dog for giving me these insights today. I have been so much more focused and happy ever since.

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Speaking of intentions, you can see that I haven't contributed to this blog since October. I've had "intentions" to, but have been thinking too much about my band of late. And I think that's a great way to spend my time. So more and more you will see posts specifically about The Hello Strangers, music, and creativity. These will eventually be linked and posted on our band site: www.thehellostrangers.com.

While you're at it, check out my friend Jamie's recent blog post about us!

Livin' the Honky Tonk Life In Yankee Territory

I have been meaning to write this post for several weeks, but ever since my sister and I performed this past weekend at a Hank Williams Tribute in Baltimore, I am even more inspired to do so.

What does it mean to live a Honky Tonk life? More and more, I find that it is a good description for the ideology under which I live. While Honky Tonk means many things to many people, I thought it would be fun to parcel out what it means to me, particularly after living for 4 years in Austin, Texas and 2 years in Idaho. There is a unique sense of freedom to be found in these parts of the country that is quite different from living in the Northeast. Don't mistake my pride for these areas as somehow trumping my love for my Yankee roots (though I was born in the South, in North Carolina). But I have found ways in which to live in the blue-blooded North, while still celebrating the lifestyle of the great open spaces, honky tonk bars, and raging rivers.

Here are some Honky Tonk guidelines:

• Smile and tip your hat at people you pass, particularly if they look doleful and cross. It might make them feel special, and it'll make you feel even more cheerful.
  
• Kick up your heels and dance, hoot, and holler. Northerners sometimes have trouble with this one, so show 'em how it's done!
  
• A little gluttony goes a long way. My husband, sister, and her boyfriend get our kicks by hiking with our dogs 2 miles over to a local biker bar on the top of a mountain ridge, drinking 3 pitchers of beer, playing some pool, putting some Merle Haggard on the jukebox, eating some wings, and hiking the two miles back. You can walk off your buzz, view some beautiful vistas, and have tons of fun!
• Lighten up! No one is going to take you as seriously as you are. Your happiness is just a shift in perspective away.
• No matter your race, creed, or sexuality (this is the Austin version of Honky Tonk), every person (and animal!) on this earth deserves fair treatment. Unless you are buying the next round, stay out of people's damn business and let them have their rights!
• Avoid turning up your nose at people; it just makes you ugly. And it only means you're uncomfortable with yourself.
• Don't fence yourself in. Try something new and uncomfortable. Add some spice to your life; put some color in your cheeks! Experience it for what it is, and you'll wake up the next day glad that you did it. I was terrified before our performance at the Hank Williams show because we hadn't practiced with the house band until we walked up on stage in front of 200 people. But once we were in the midst of the performance, I was so focused and enjoyed every second of it.
• Do things for the joy of it! Every day is a blessing, and we live in a fascinating time. Stop and enjoy the wonderful details along the way: the strains of lap steel guitar floating up your sunny staircase, the happy cups and plates stacked in your cupboard, the little bird holding on for dear life at the feeder blowing in the winter wind, two young boys walking down a long, lonely city alley, lovers dancing and kissing as if no one is watching, a glance of communication from one musician to another. What is your reality? What do you see in a day?

Now go and have yourself a honky tonkin' good day!

My sister and I (The Hello Strangers) perform at the Hank tribute
Photo at top: Our new friends C.W. and Lindy Loo

All photos © Chace + Smith Photography

Christmastide

Yesterday, the freezing rain in the forecast suddenly turned to snow outside our window. In Southern Pennsylvania, snow is often more of a blessing than a common occurrence, so we settled back to work thinking it wouldn't last. But it continued, and our first real snow of the season covered the trees that line our road. The lantern outside our back door wore a little elf's cap of snow, and our dog stepped tentatively out the back door sniffing the new white stuff.

A year ago, we had just moved into this house and were barely able to get unpacked, wrap presents, and, of course, throw our holiday party. Hosting is one of my favorite things, so that was top on the priority list. It acted as a nice housewarming as well. A year later, we are very settled here. It has been nice to get started earlier with the Christmas shopping, and the planning of our holiday fête, which we hosted last Saturday.

I remarked recently to my husband how often over the past year of living back home I have looked around me and thought blissfully, "Gosh, my life is so great." I think a major reason for this feeling is that so many of our visions have come to fruition. Living on the other side of the country was an adventure I would never give up, but it made us yearn for things, some of which we couldn't quite put our finger on. Being back home has shown us that many of those things were waiting for us right here in our own hometown. I believe Ryan and I make a good life for ourselves no matter where we live, but this place has allowed us to put many of the puzzle pieces together that were once a bit scattered.

We see our grandparents frequently - even my grandmother and relatives in upstate New York are in very close proximity compared to when we lived in Texas or Idaho. We see our parents and siblings as often as possible; two out of my three siblings live here in town now. They are part of the core of our social network. As are our friends, some who live in our town, but others who come from nearby cities and remind us of our past city lives.

Even my dream of having a band has been coming together in the past month. My sister and I have added two lead guitarists/mandolin/lap steel players, bass, and drums to our outfit, The Hello Strangers. This is something I'm really looking forward to in the coming year.

I love the Christmas season for many reasons: the cheer, the little gifts and treats to pass around, the special times with family and friends, and the magic of bigger things we cannot quite explain. I love the feeling of looking back at the past year and counting blessings, while also looking ahead to the next year of life and being given a fresh start. I am grateful everyday for the things that I have, and try not to take any of it for granted.

This Christmastide, may you look back in fond remembrance and look ahead to a year full of promises and surprises.

Happy Holidays!

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Christmas sweaters bring Christmas cheer!
My sister and her beau spread the holiday spirit at our party this past Saturday:

Free of Ego, Free of Regret

I have had it in my mind's eye over the past week something that was a supplemental resolution of mine for 2008. I wrote it in my journal almost a year ago. Somehow, over the months, I let it drift back into the recesses of my brain to sit unused. But I have revisited it recently, and somehow my understanding of it has changed. Something has "clicked" for me.
It is three simple words:

Free of Ego

I do not say "Free from Ego" because our egos are intrinsically a part of us. I don't wish to be free from my id, as if separated from my it. But "Free of Ego" implies a freedom from the constraints of the Ego as aggressor, competitor, and negative entity that guides us through our daily actions.

Free of Regret is something I have added to this mantra more recently as I have come to terms with the fact that I am a "Ruminator." I allow negative events and associations to drift into my psyche in the present moment, where they continue to fester like a boil on my memory. Even reminiscing and talking about these events with other people is, I have learned, no more constructive than dwelling on them internally. I wish to free myself of the Regret that at any moment can surface and change the course of my thought patterns and my day.

When I was in grad school, one of my fellow classmates accused me of cheating. I knew in my heart that I had not cheated, but he was a good friend and someone I had come to trust and confide in over the years. Realizing that he did not fully trust me in return for some reason (and I believe this was more about his personality than mine) was very hard to deal with or forgive. We made our amends, but to this day I know there is a tiny part of the situation that I have not exonerated. I may never completely forgive him for something I truly thought was poorly handled and downright wrong.

Being Free of Ego, Free of Regret means that in this moment, here and now, I will not allow myself to ruminate on this experience. I count to 3 and vow that after 3 seconds I move onto more positive, constructive thought patterns.

Other negative reminiscences such as this come up from time to time in my daily thoughts: disagreements I've had with a family member whose core beliefs are much different than mine, or things left unsaid that I wish I had said to win my case (there it is, the big EGO!). I'm sure we all have experienced similar things. When I am under the influence of Ego the Aggressor, I am allowing myself to think that I need to prove this person wrong, as if I am most definitely right and she is definitely wrong. With all the subjectivities in our great world that make it so multidimensional and fascinating, why would I make something so paltry as being "right" my main goal?

When I am Free of Ego, I speak with my own forthrightness and character, but I do not allow the aggressive ego to turn the situation into something negative: a competition or a bad experience. There is something to be learned in every circumstance. Only if the ego is quiet and calm can we see what is to be learned.

What is present in the space made available by being Free of Ego, Free of Regret?
Gratitude, Peace, Poised Self-Confidence, Joy, and Love.
This Thanksgiving, I will ruminate on these things, not the others.

This photo I took of our beloved Highland Lake this fall brings me much solace and gratitude.

How do you free yourself from Ego and Regret?

My Favorite Things

"We should all do what, in the long run, gives us joy, even if it is only picking grapes or sorting the laundry." - E.B. White

I experience great joy from the simplest of things in my life. This spring has been lovely in so many ways. I find myself telling people who ask how things are going that I really feel like I am living the life I have envisioned for a long time. This often results in an expression of surprise from the person, since these questions can often elicit a laundry list of woes. I really am superbly happy with how things in my life have been unfolding, notwithstanding the occasional hurdle or moment of drama (life would be boring without these things!).

Thus, I am inspired to make a list of some of my favorite things at the moment - things which, upon thinking about them, make me stop and smile. I hope you, too, will ponder your favorite things and go out and experience them for all they're worth.

1. Breakfast - this is my favorite meal of the day. It is the simplest of meals, tastes splendid after 8-10 hours of fasting, and gives me time in the morning to contemplate my day and avoid getting off to too hurried of a start. I feel sorry for people who think that breakfast is unimportant and they "don't have time" for such a basic part of life.
2. Sweetsies Eats and Treats - this roadside wonder sits along Route 40 between Clear Spring and Hagerstown, Maryland, which is an oft-traveled route for us when running errands, etc. It offers the best soft serve that I've ever tried (barring Sandy's Frozen Custard in Austin, TX). I love a good soft serve cone, particularly plain vanilla. One lick of Sweetsies' soft serve and I melt!
   
3. Bustling around the house - I love to "tidy". It is my way of making sure that my little space in the universe is orderly and free from clutter so that I can go out into the messy world with a clean slate, ready for anything. The process of straightening things up is meditative and refreshing for me. I often think of Mary Poppins snapping her fingers as she tidies up the nursery, everything magically folding and falling back into its proper place. Did I mention I'm also a Virgo?
   
4. Playing music with Fred and Brechyn - this has been a weekly tradition since this winter, and it will soon cease to be since our good friend, Fred, is moving to Boston. But we have played several gigs together, enjoyed weekly jam sessions, laughed and guffawed at talking in silly accents, and had many enriching philosophical and musically-charged conversations. I'm glad I'll still have my sister, Brechyn, here as we continue on as The Hello Strangers.
   
5. Gardening - this is an activity that both my husband and I enjoy together, now in particular since we have been living in apartments for the past 4 years and never had a house, per se, at which to start a garden. The other evening we started a new bed of orange marigolds, purple verbena, and white astilbe. I love to clear out the weeds and plant fresh growth, then stand back and admire our work.
   
6. Sadie - I have written a lot about our dog. But let me just say that she continues to surprise and amuse me daily. I can't imagine life without her.
   
7. Riding my bike to work - I fly down the hill into town, my hair blowing behind me, my backpack on. I feel like a teenager again, as I retrace many of the routes I rode on when I was young. Then I ride back up the hill after work, knowing that I avoided pumping at least a little carbon monoxide into the air that day.
   
8. The Burning Spear live album "Live at the Zenith, Paris, 1988" - this is my favorite reggae album that I most often crave and blare throughout the house. After writing my Masters Report on reggae in 2006, I try to make sure I remain in touch with my knowledge and appreciation of the genre. Despite being recorded in 1988, the musicianship and arrangements on this album are timeless in the way that Winston Rodney (the frontman) does it best. I love playing this album for folks that are reticent about reggae or have only heard the cornier (and there is a lot of it) side of the genre.

What are some of your favorite things?

Enjoy Your Town

Yesterday was one of those days you wish you could seal in a bottle and reopen whenever you want.

We have been living in our hometown for almost 8 months now, after living away for 10 years. I have been wary of the possibility that the novelty of it all would wear off eventually. But yesterday reaffirmed that I really am happy to be here. It also taught me, once again, that you can be content anywhere as long as you have the right attitude. It is a simple concept, but one that can be convoluted and difficult to uphold. In fact, it was the simplicity of the day's activities that made it so special, and I believe that simplicity is at the crux of maintaining the right attitude about where you live.

This season, our business, Chace + Smith Photography, has had the opportunity to shoot for the nearby Whitetail Ski Resort. Because the day was supposed to be clear and mild, Ryan (my husband) decided to head up to Whitetail before dawn and try to capture some great sunrise shots for the company. I met him there around 9:30 a.m., as he was finishing up, to snowboard with him for a while. Mind you, we both snowboarded for free since Ryan works in the repair shop at the resort, and I have managed to get my hands on a few vouchers. If this weren't the case, we definitely wouldn't be able to take advantage of the resort's proximity to our home.

The sun was out and the first signs of Spring were in the air. We whipped down the mountain, filled our lungs with the fresh air while riding the lift, and felt 20 years old again (I always feel very connected to Ryan when we snowboard together). Around noon we decided we had better get back to town (and to work), but since we were feeling free and spontaneous, we thought we would stop for a pint and split a sandwich (keeping in mind that we are trying to live below our means) at the tavern on the square in Mercersburg. We drove the beautiful drive back with the windows down, sat at the bar at Flannery's eating our lunch, and talked to the various people we knew there. My sister, who works at the restaurant, happened to stop in. She joined us at the bar for another beer. I felt very connected to my community, enjoying its slow pace as the sun streamed through the tavern windows.

The rest of the day was balmy and relaxed, partially because of the weather, but also because I had allowed myself to get away from my routine for a bit. Everything seemed to flow; the fun was cheap, adventurous, and whimsical. It was a great day.

We live in a town with two stoplights, with under two thousand residents. Fun can be had anywhere (even on a Monday). Enjoy your town!

What makes your town or home special and fun?

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything

Today, the sun rises triumphantly over the fields next to my house. We have had few sunny days this winter, so the sight is breathtaking.

Today, I enjoy watching my dog chase a ball once or twice, then prance off to sniff more interesting things (she is not much of a ball dog).

Today, I notice the cool, soothing feeling of the milk as I eat my cereal.

Today, I silence the alarm bell on my email and respond to emails when I am ready, not every time I receive a message. I am not a slave to technology.

Today, I let the warm water from the shower linger on the back of my neck for just a few extra seconds.

Today, I dwell on happy thoughts and moments. I am present, relaxed, and alert, acknowledging the blessed life that I have.

Today, I give someone I love a hug and tell them how much they mean to me.

Today, I enjoy the sound of the scissors as I get my hair trimmed. The new, healthy strands make me feel refreshed and confident.

Today, I watch the birds at the feeder outside my kitchen window, grateful for their little noises and bodies. The world would be a very dull place without them.

Today, I Find Inspiration in Everything I can.

How do you find inspiration in your daily life?

Creature Comforts (Part 3): Paring down, an Introduction

“In spite of illness, in spite even of the archenemy of sorrow, one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways.”
- Edith Wharton

After a brief interlude, I continue my Creature Comforts series with another idea about how one might find a happy medium between comfort and precariousness. This topic will be presented in several parts since it is one worth deliberating on. Within these parts, I will hash out the notion of paring down: What does it mean to pare down in a society where more equals more? How can we pare down in a way that doesn’t deny us our happiness? And what’s the point? This section will serve as my introduction, followed by several posts that provide specific examples of how one might pare down.

“Simplify Life” is a notion that has gained more and more prevalence during the twenty-first century thus far. With all the choices available to us, and our burgeoning consumer habits, we are crying out for simplicity in the hopes of finding a more wholesome way to nourish our souls. As a culture, we often look back on the “good old days” as examples of how simple and easy life used to be. Things tend to seem as though they were better back then. Problem is, the people living “back then” looked to their pasts for the same inspiration. Thus, we must find ways to carve out simplicity in our present lives, lest we trap ourselves in an endless web of nostalgia. This can involve giving up some of our creature comforts, but in the end I truly believe it is worth the sacrifice.

Despite the heralds of gloom and doom about the shrinking middle class and lack of sufficient health care, my life as a North American feels downright cushy. Perhaps part of the reason I feel this way is due to my sunny disposition; I don’t often want for much and am generally satisfied with what I have. But I did indeed grow up in a country where it is easy to live comfortably, speaking subjectively of course, on teacher’s salaries. My parents, both teachers, had four children, and though I couldn’t always get the outfit or toy that I wanted, my basic needs were met and I had a blissfully happy childhood (no lie!). Essentially, I learned to rejoice in small ways and dream about big things (like the quote above). I believe this is the crux of the debate about frugality, prosperity, and simplicity in our abundant and plush society. It is the moral to this story.

So, what is the point of paring down?

I am going to be a bit extreme here and say it is our responsibility to pare down in everything we do day to day. It is our duty to limit in any ways we can the strain we put on our natural resources. Sure, spending bolsters the economy and we, as consumers, are what drive this capitalist machine. But it is easy to get more than we need or ask for in our society, e.g. whopping helpings at restaurants. Gladly, it isn’t hard to break the habit of accepting blindly what is placed in front of us. The point? Paring down is the simplicity we’re searching for, and it is not as hard to attain as we might think.

I look forward to reading your thoughts and comments about this topic in this and the following posts. Enjoy this great day!

Where the Heart Is

I am home. My sails are still flapping in the breeze, but my ship is in port. I have not felt this grounded in a long time, having only visited my hometown several times a year for the past decade. This is the ultimate cure for homesickness: coming home. I have unpacked the homesickness that has been dwelling in my belly for years and have stored it away in a drawer, perhaps in safe-keeping for future journeys. In its stead, the warmest feelings of reconnection with family, friends, and myself have been taking shape over the past week or so since we have arrived here. Something as simple as a bike ride reminds me of how it felt to be 15, tracing the same paths across town that I did in my youth, feeling the same burn in my thighs as I crest a familiar hill.

I left my hometown of Mercersburg, Pennsylvania when I was 17 years old, having just graduated from high school, on my way to college in Boston, Massachusetts. Every move after college (from Boston, to Moscow, Idaho, to Austin, Texas) involved, all at once, the excitement of the next step and a deep yearning for my hometown. Would I ever be able to feel at "home" again? Was Mercersburg the only place I could feel that way? What the heck was I going to do in my hometown if I every moved back? Despite my longing for it, moving home always seemed to be more complicated than moving somewhere else far, far away. I convinced myself over the years that "home" was an elusive figment of the mind and could be achieved anywhere if the conditions were right. But I never felt the strong sense of home I was looking for and knew deep down that in order to find out if Mercersburg really was "home," I was going to have to move there. My husband, who is also from Mercersburg, and I agreed that it was time to stop talking about moving and just go for it, despite the risks involved (mostly in regards to our business). Luckily for us, the opportunity presented itself and the move was facilitated quite nicely.

So, was I right? Did we really need to take the plunge and move to Mercersburg (or at least the Northeast) to truly feel at home? Well...yes, so it seems at this juncture. Despite certain aspects about the town that we could "live" without, it really is a special place, and many of my friends who grew up here agree (and have moved back over the years as well). Not everyone grows up in a town to which they long to return; I feel fortunate that I have and look forward to finally taking advantage of the many positive aspects about living here. Here's a quick list of wonderful things I have noticed about the area since I've been back (particularly in comparison to my former, albeit great, life in Austin):

• We are now surrounded by green, voluptuous mountains with little valleys and towns in between
• The corn is as high as an elephant's eye; the fields surround me as I go for walks with my dog
• I only have 3 bars to choose from (yes, I actually like have less choices), all of which are within walking distance
• There are only 2 red lights in Mercersburg and therefore only 2 chances to run into a traffic "jam"
• Big, fun cities such as Washington, D.C., Philadelphia, and New York, are just a hop, skip, and a jump away, easily satisfying any urges to live the city life again
• Rent is cheap, and beer is cheaper

I could go on, and I may in later posts. Obviously, being closer to family and many of my old friends has already made the move more than worthwhile.

Note: My posts may be lacking in visual aid for the time being, unlike many in the past. I will hopefully have Internet access on my own computer soon, from which I will be able to post photos. For now, I am at the whim of family members' computers and Internet connections.

I am so glad I can keep up with my blog anywhere I go and hope all my readers are having a great summer!

The Wonder of Music

Ever wonder why there are so many musicians in the world? Because making music is one of life's greatest gifts and treasures. My sister and I have been singing and songwriting under the moniker, The Hello Strangers, for several months now. Today we recorded our first CD of songs, thanks to our friend Conrad's roommate, Bruce, who agreed to record our latest tunes pro bono. It was a fantastic, musical day, the kind I would like to have more often, with good people and a warm, live recording space. It rained hard for most of the day, so Conrad made us tea for our recording session and we nestled down for several hours of good, hard work. Brechyn and I left the experience feeling filled to the brim with the kindness of people and the wonder of music.


I have attached some photos from our great day for your viewing pleasure:

Puttin' On the Ritz

Ryan and I celebrated our 1st wedding Anniversary yesterday. We were so excited to celebrate, both of us daunted by the rapid passing of time and rejoicing in all that we have done in our first year of marriage, such as starting a business. We also thought about our family and friends who gathered with us a year ago to witness our marriage in Pennsylvania. What a wonderful, albeit blustery, day it was. I have posted below a handful of photos from our anniversary celebrations, followed by a few reminiscent shots of our wedding day a year ago. We enjoyed our anniversary immensely, first getting muddy while hiking, swimming, and picnicking with friends, then getting gussied up and dining at the Mansion on Judge's Hill Restaurant here in Austin. Drinks and dinner were divine and we enjoyed the juxtaposition of the activities we partake in and enjoy together (getting very muddy, then allowing ourselves to be pampered). We hope you enjoy these photos as much as we have relished in the experience.

Wedding: June 10, 2006

Me and my "girls" at the rehearsal

Sadie, the flower girl

The handsome groom

Other People's Lives

Neighborhood. Just the word stirs up an array of iconic and nostalgic images of living side by side: porch swings, stray cats, driveways, shrubberies, abandoned cars, gables and eaves, metal trash cans… Our neighborhood of Bouldin Creek in South Austin has a particularly unique array of homes and yards, all nestled together, each an expression of personal style working in harmony and juxtaposition with the other. Ryan, Sadie (our dog), and I walked for an hour just the other evening through our ‘hood, dreaming of lives other than our own. We cherish our life together, of course, but a peek into other people’s lives offers new ideas and fresh perspectives about where we’re going and where we’ve come.

These walks offer an experience of simultaneous nostalgia and future dreams, like a film reel floating through my psyche as I walk past yards and houses. A butterfly lands on a flowery vine, a cat basks on a front stoop with her three kittens blinking at us as we pass, and a young couple gathers with friends on their cozy front porch for Friday evening drinks as the hazy sun comes to rest on the tree line. I am reminded of visits with family friends, enjoying the chance to be at their home and eat their food. Or of the potlucks my roommate and I used to host in our ranch-house apartment in Moscow, Idaho – hours of communal eating and drinking as the sun sank behind the trees and the moon joined our revelry. I yearn to be likewise sitting with friends again, like many times before.

I also look to the future as Ryan and I talk of our plans to one day own a home. We discuss certain things we like about some houses and other things we aren’t so fond of. For instance, we love front porches and green building, but are miffed by the modern homes that spring up between the little cottages, towering overhead like a behemoth: too pretentious! Sometimes, we love things about a yard or house we can’t quite explain; it is simply its ambiance that draws us to appreciate it. The owners may share similar ideologies about life, or they express something we admire in a creative way. We love to talk about what we will do when we own a house one day: entertain, garden, decorate, and tinker in the shed. These moments of looking ahead and dreaming of what we want provide nourishment for our spirits and our relationship. We have enjoyed thinking and talking about the future since we started dating 7 years ago.

Mostly, though, our walk is the convergence of the past and future in the present. My experience is the result of who I am and what I choose to notice and think about. Our experience together is the result of our personalities feeding off of and inspiring the other. Simply enjoying a quiet stroll through our neighborhood, one step at a time, purposefully taking our time to zigzag through the streets – we love our lives knowing others love theirs. Then we may return to our delightful little apartment and charmed lives, rejoicing in the fact that we don’t need anything but what we already have.

Pressing Your Restart Button

Last night, Ryan and I went camping with friends on Lake Travis, near Austin. It was Ryan’s birthday and we planned on celebrating with swimming, beer, and grilled food. I was looking forward to getting out of the city, but found once I got there that it was hard to relax, especially around a group of people. It took several hours, and a few beers, before my mind-frame began to shift and I settled into my surroundings and our activities. I felt restless, like I wanted to be by myself and reconnect somehow; press my "restart button", so to speak. But this trip was something we had all been planning and I knew these opportunities didn’t come along too often, so I wanted to make sure to enjoy my time with friends, and be present and enthusiastic about celebrating my husband’s birthday.

I tend to be a fairly out-going and friendly person, so when I am in a quiet, pensive mood, people notice and often ask if I am OK. This question can often make me feel defensive, as if I need to explain why I am in an “alternative” mood from the norm. It takes a lot of inner patience in these situations not to draw even more attention to my mood and answer, “Yes, I’m fine, OK?!?!” This response isn’t going to make me feel better (or the person who asked the question), so I find it more worthwhile to focus on my breath and ease through these inquiries with a smile. I know I’ll get out of my funk sooner or later and finding ways to make a smooth transition out of a bad mood can often prevent regret for my snappy comments or reactions later. I fared pretty well yesterday, and eventually was greatly enjoying being away from the city and with friends by the lake (see photo below).

This morning, when I awoke from my hazy sleeping bag fluff, I felt even more present as we spent the morning drinking coffee and chatting peacefully. I greatly enjoy mornings in general, but at this point, after a full day of camping, I felt that my restart button had been sufficiently pressed. I think of my days as a middle-schooler, playing Nintendo and enjoying the satisfaction of pressing the restart button and watching a fudged-up game disappear and a new chance presented as the game begins again. I find many simple ways each day to press my own restart button, but sometimes an overnight trip to the woods is a reminder of how long it can take to feel “restarted”. It can take several weeks of vacation in many cases to feel sufficiently refreshed. But no matter how long it takes, it is important to pay attention to the various moods we go through during these periods of rejuvenation, good or bad. Not every moment of a vacation or playtime is going to be perfect. The bad moods or moments are just as important as the good and can make the experience even more real and special once you resurface into a good-feeling phase. The goal is to be patient with oneself through the good and the bad, for this is the balance of life (the yin and yang). In what ways do you press your restart button?

The birthday boy gets ready for some fun (and beer) in the sun

You can probably tell that my mood had lifted by this point!

Time On My Side

My dog, Sadie, walks up to the screen door and looks back at me. “Will you let me out, please?” her eyes ask. I open the door and she walks out with clear intent: to flop down in the big patch of late-afternoon sun pooling on our balcony floor. She does so with no other purpose in mind but to lie down in it and soak it up, save for the occasional fly buzzing by that catches her attention. I watch as her ribs start to expand and contract at a slightly faster clip. Eventually, she sits up and is in full pant, but still seems to be drinking up the sun like a pint of Guinness, eyes fluttering in canine ecstasy. Time progresses for her in a different way than it does for me. She is an inspiration, not just because of the simplicity of her nature, but because she only does one thing at a time. And because she does not have to go to work, “accomplish” things on her to-do list, or think ahead to what she is going to eat for dinner, time is never of-the-essence for her.

My relationship with time, on the other hand, is much akin to the relationship I once had with my 6th Grade Reading teacher, a nun and former catholic schoolteacher who always seemed to take everything a little too seriously. This was public school after all, not purgatory. I always had one eye on her, thinking that at any moment she would sneak up behind me and catch me doing something I wasn’t supposed to (like slipping my shoes on and off distractedly under my desk, god forbid!). I was rather petrified of her, actually, and would get so nervous some mornings before catching the bus to school that I would get sick to my stomach and ask to stay home. Yet, for some reason, I always wanted to get on her good side, get to know her a little better, and try to understand why she was so…well, mean! The fear of her, after all, came from the complete lack of control I felt I had when I was in her classroom. Even asking to go to the bathroom felt like original sin. Funny how being nervous all the time does little to bolster one’s reading skills. I don’t remember a single book I read that year. But I made it through, relatively unscathed, with one lesson to hold on to: there are some things in life you cannot control, you just handle them as best you can, try not to vomit, and move on. Time is something I will never be able to control either. But time and I need some relationship counseling. I want to have time on my side again.

In high school, I used to sway my hips back and forth and sing, “Tiiiiiiiime is on my side, yes it is!” a line from the Rolling Stones song. Time felt friendly and constant back then, so it seems from my current perspective. More and more, when I take a moment to check the clock I experience a second of utter shock and horror (flash back to reading class), wondering what happened to the last hour of my life and thinking how much I still want to do. Admittedly, I put a lot on my plate each day and expect to get most of it done. I never do, and never will, and I have yet to accept this. I still haven’t learned my lesson.

There is hope, however, in that we DO have agency over our relationship with time. Meditation is one of the ways in which I can purposefully slow my breath, my mind, and thus, my perception of time. Because time is relative and elusive, what matters is our perception of it and the steps we take each day to foster a loving, not fearful, relationship with time. I continue to work hard at this because I feel it is essential to living a good, happy life. Like my panting dog on the balcony, I will strive to go through each day with clear intent and focus, and just try to allow life to happen as it is meant to, not how I plan for it to be.