Barking Backwards

Mr. MacDonald seemed so old when I was a young fourteen just starting high school. But as I reflect back, I realize that he was probably the age I am now. He taught my freshman English class and he loved poetry.   The first poem we studied was:

“The old dog barked backwards without getting up, I can remember when he was a pup.

He spent so much time on that little poem.  I think it was two solid lesson days spent on dissecting it and discussing its hidden meanings.   It made such an impact that of the many fascinating things I learned in my high school years this little poem remains in my memory.

I’ve been feeling a bit like that old dog lately.   I’ve spent much time this summer healing my injuries from the car accident and healing requires stillness.  The longer the healing process took, the more I realized that the stillness has been good for my healing heart as well.   

Perhaps all the times this past year or so when God told me ‘no’ when I signed up for some activity it was with good reason.  The number of times plans just didn’t work out for various reasons cannot be coincidental.   And the fun outings I did have were all the more special – with family and friends and each memorable in its own way.    I suspect that God knew I needed some stillness in my life to help my healing heart. 

I remember when I saw my oncologist a few months after Robert passed away.   She said it had been obvious to her how deeply we loved each other.  I shared with her that another acquaintance had mentioned how much she admired the care  and kindness with which we treated each other.   My doctor smiled sadly and said that the one problem with finding your soul mate is how much it hurts to lose them.   

If I had known this simple fact of loss earlier in life, would it have deterred me from finding my soul mate?  I think not.   I’ve always felt that living life with an open heart is so much more pleasant than a closed one.  Sure – you feel pain that others do not- but your joy is great.

My doctor’s comments helped me to understand that the depth of the unspeakable pain I was enduring was a reflection of the love we had shared.   I know that my heart is still healing.  My wonderful cousin pointed that out to me last year and it holds true today.   Healing takes more time than you expect.  And stillness.   Restful, quiet times set amongst the busier moments.   I may be barking backwards just a bit longer.  Although, I am starting to remember being a pup.  

Words Are Easy

I’m sure we’ve all heard the advice that words are easy, it’s actions that matter.  But have you really thought about that lately?   Because, as I look around our world, I see a lot of easily uttered words but not so many actions.    Congress is a classic example but….wait, I don’t want to go there. 

You know those social ‘white’ lies?  Like saying we’ll get together to do this or that?   The person making the statement gets to bask in the immediate happiness of the recipient without actually making the effort to follow through. 

Of course, there are the classic words of caring we often share with family and friends.  But if you really think about it – it’s the actions to express that caring that mean so much more.  Actually visiting that relative in the nursing home.  Actually attending that child’s school event.  It’s the time spent together more than the words.   Is it a ten minute ‘duty’ call to mom or dad?  Or are you spending the time for a good, long chat? 

Or what about those polite or even caring words uttered to someone but then the mockery starts once the back is turned?   An action not quite in keeping with those easily spoken words.  But as a society it has become a way of life.  When did mockery and sarcasm become so popular anyway?   I miss  kindness and sincerity. 

Then there is the deeper issues- the dreams vocalized but never acted upon.   No tiny steps taken to actually make that dream come true.  Perhaps it is the hope to do more for your community but then life intervenes and there just wasn’t the time. 

How are all these examples interconnected?  I believe that uttering those easy words on the small daily things leads to us being frozen on the larger, more significant goals, hopes or dreams.  We start to believe the self-talk that we have not the time.  No time to call mom.  No time to make your small piece of the world a better place.  Dreams can wait till later. 

I believe that we should all be more aware of all those words coming our way on a daily basis.   Do they reflect genuine kindness and actual commitment for our well-being?  Are there actions backing up those words?  If not, it may be time to welcome new people into our respective personal worlds. 

We also need to be mindful of the words we put out there-  are we following them up with action?  Do we genuinely mean what we say?  In other words, would new people welcome us into their personal worlds?

At the end of any given day, those words are just too easy to say.  And perhaps are not needed after all.  It really is actions that matter.  Let us strive to be promise keepers.  Let our actions reflect our intentions.

Hiatus

Is that possibly the correct date?   I seem to have been much consumed with the physical side of life lately --  medical tests,  an illness here, an injury there.   I’ve started joking that I’m a frequent flier at my primary care doctor’s office.  The staff all know me by name.   In the midst of it all, it seems I ran out of words.  Perhaps it was the intense focus on the body that only pain can bring.   It does tend to blot out other thoughts when movement causes you to catch your breath. 

But tonight, as I did the extended dental care that braces require, I found words gently drifting across my mind.   Oh, it’s coming back- I’ve missed it!   What wonderful things are slowly stirring in my soul seeking to be shared?   It’s actually a bit of a mystery to me.   I usually just start writing and see where it goes.

Tonight I am remembering this poster I used to have.  I purchased it at the Harvard Coop in Cambridge Square when I was a freshman in college.   I eventually had it framed and it hung on the wall of various homes for years to come.  One day I passed it on to others.  I wonder where it ended up.  Funny how things float up from your memories.   Perhaps the feelings that poster represented are just appropriate for where I am this evening.   It was a gorgeous photo of the woods with a bit of a stream and a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson: 

“Think me not unkind and rude, That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the god of the wood. To fetch his word to men. “ 

Fake it till ‘Ya Feel It

When I woke up this morning I could sense that I would have to force myself to get out of the house today.  Last evening was difficult because I was feeling a bit under the weather and missing my love.   My natural nestling instinct kicked in this morning and I so just wanted to stay home.  Curl up on that couch and ignore the world.   Then I recalled my promise that I would work on balance.   I needed to find positive things on the weekends to balance the weight of the workweek.   Sigh.

A recent conversation with my sister came to mind.  She told me that sometimes ‘ya just have to fake it till you feel like it.   This is one of those days I told myself.   I put on a cute top and chose coordinating earrings and headed to the garage with a newspaper clipping in tow.  I told myself that if it was really not fun I could just come home.  

It was chilly and drizzly so I had on my new fuchsia rain jacket.  That ought to perk me up I thought.   I put in the address for a seaside botanical garden that I hadn’t visited in nearly twenty years.  I still remember the garden party I attended at Fuller Gardens.  It is located about a block from the seawall with a walking path.  Today was their annual plant sale said the newspaper and I was looking for herbs. 

The rain stopped and it became quite humid there by the sea.  I found some really great looking plants and decided to become a member there.  This could be one of my new ‘happy places.’  A reason to get out of the house on random Saturday mornings.   In the gift shop I joined a couple ladies in their passionate discussion of the most recent Downton Abbey season.   Of course, I told them.  Garden lovers would enjoy that show!  We reminisced about season one with the tea and garden parties and all those hats.

As I left, I put in the address for a craft fair on the common in Hampton Falls, a neighboring town.  As I drove along the seawall, the sun came out and the sea was sparkling to my left.  I was suddenly hungry and there was the Beach Plum restaurant I ate at last year with my mom.  I pulled in and got a fresh haddock sandwich.  The beach facilities were open across the street.  I got there just before the huge lunch crowd arrived.

When I got to the craft fair I realized I would have to park a ways down the street.  Well I said to self – good exercise and fresh air all together.  The common was covered in newly mowed grass a lovely deep shade of green, soft and comfortable for strolling around the craft tents.  I found many things I liked but was there for the entertainment factor more than the shopping.    Chatted with a few artisans at their booths.  As I was leaving the common, I noticed a sign for a local farm and it was further down the street I was parked on.  Well, I can get home from there quite easily.  I’ll just drive a new road I said to self as I banged a u-turn mid road.  No traffic in either direction, trust me. 

At Applecrest Orchards I picked up some new red potatoes and green onions so I can make potato salad on Sunday.  I actually found a small jar of pickled eggs.  Too funny.  They were featured in a scene in a recent book group read about some Russians and the meal they ordered in a bar.  I had wanted to recreate it at home.   Maybe I will.   Well, except for the herring.  There are limits as to what I am willing to try.   I had a nice chat with the owners at the cashier stand.   I got something to drink in the refreshment shed and admired the rows of perennials they had for sale.  It was less humid and the breeze was lovely.  The sun’s strong rays made it feel warmer than the 67 degrees the thermometer indicated.

As I left I marveled at the circuit I had made in my junket.  It was only twenty miles in total and I didn’t get on the highway once.  Many of the roads I hadn’t driven before.  Lovely discoveries of small town commons, old trees and rock walls.   The entire outing took only three hours.  And somewhere along the way I didn’t have to fake it anymore. 

Irrepressible Hope

I just watched The Great Gatsby.  I remember reading the book in college.  Great film rendition.  About the carelessness of people.  The callous carelessness.  And the irrepressible hope of one man.  Clinging to his dream.  Not able to accept that the dream had already ended long ago.  The death scene got to me.  I sobbed during the credits thinking of my lost love.

And I am now left to ponder:  what do you do with your innate irrepressible hope once the dream is gone?  How do you harness it as you move forward?  How can it be redirected into a new dream?  And how long will it take before you are able to focus on a new dream?  Will you know it when you see it?  So many questions lodged in the simple words of an author in a novel written long ago. 

I look around.  I reflect upon my life and all I’ve done.  I’ve already accomplished so many of the things I wished to in the realm of education, career and travel.  I was blessed with a grand romance and abiding love in my husband.  I’ve had interesting adventures great and small.  I’ve enjoyed the companionship of family and friends.  I have loved and been well loved in return.   I have no regrets.   I have indulged in many creative pursuits over the years.  It is an interesting place to be, this stage of life.   I have many more years behind me than before me.   The future is a blank canvas.   Yet, I have no desire to rush to fill it.  Most unusual for me.   I am content to wait upon God.  I trust that the guidance will come when the time is right.  And that the small part my life plays in the gorgeous tapestry He is creating will be as it should.

As I journey forward, I shall have to be on the lookout.  Looking for clues.  Evaluating hints.  What will the new dreams be?  A person with irrepressible hope needs something to look forward to.  My last dream standing is early retirement.  I’m sure others will come to me in time.  But for today, I so understand how Gatsby could cling to his dream against all odds.  He instinctively understood the unbearable nature of the pain its loss would bring.

Efficiency is Overrated

I am seemingly an inherently efficient person.  I have a time clock embedded in my mind.   I have honed the skill of maximizing all my tasks in order to increase my free time.  I wonder if it stems from a branch of Germanic folk deep in my family tree.  I wonder if it’s time to have that clock removed.

It could just be from years of having to be efficient in order to accomplish all my goals in the academic and career arenas.   But I am known to take it to a new level.   It’s long been a game to see how short a time I can spend on errands, housework, laundry – you name it and I’ve played beat the clock.   That allowed me to squeeze in my craft and scrapbook projects over the years.   It allowed me to spend time with my husband.  I wouldn’t say he was overly demanding but he did enjoy having my full attention and lots of home cooked meals.   And he always wanted me to help him with his projects.   It was my pleasure to do so.   Yet when I was doing my own chores or projects, I always had this clock in my mind and an awareness of the other things on my endless to do list.

These days many of those items on my to do list are gone.   Instead of multiple properties to maintain, I am enjoying life in a condo where everything outside my unit is very well attended.  The time I used to spend with my husband was initially earmarked for grieving but this year I find that to be decreasing.  Or at least larger gaps in between the grieving.   Large home cooked meals are no longer on my agenda.  Yet I am finding some new joy in cooking smaller meals for myself.   And I am rediscovering writing as a past time.   I’ve been told that when I get to the other side of grief that the ability to scrapbook will return.  For now some of my projects are on hold – I know not to force the issue.

As I contemplate my future retirement, I begin to suspect this newly discovered free time is a good thing.  It allows me to practice a new mindset.   Lately when I am grocery shopping I am fully in the moment.  I go up and down all the aisles and explore my culinary options and really learn the store layout.  I am more aware of sale items than I used to be.  And I am remembering that I used to really like grocery shopping.  Before the beat the clock mantra took over.   It reminds me of my husband’s joy in doing the shopping after he retired. 

But then again Robert was always good at living in the moment.  He never played beat the clock.  He focused on a current task and did it extremely well.  And when he relaxed and sat outside soaking in the sun he was able to be one with the sunshine.  I used to tease him that he had no internal clock.  I think our innate differences were part of the attraction between us.   He relied on my ability to plan and get things done and I relied on his ability to slow me down.  I think he would be proud that I am beginning to learn the value of tossing that clock out the window. 

Reverse: Not My Strong Suit

I pulled my small SUV into my assigned garage parking space and carefully lined up the car so I centered the car in the spot.   As the past year has taught me it makes the reversing out of the parking space so much easier.  The interesting thing is that the more experience I’ve gained maneuvering my car between the neighbor’s SUV and the wall and large support post is that reversing the car is less intimidating.   I don’t think about it anymore.  Not like the early days after the move when Robert taught me how to pull in and out with ease.  I joked with him that the spot was so difficult for me that the second time I hit something I was getting a smaller vehicle.  After all, reverse had never been my strong suit.

I began wondering if my not liking to reverse has been limited to the world of driving?  I don’t like to read the same book twice.  Not even a book that I truly treasured as a favorite.   I don’t see the point in traveling to the same distant vacation destination more than once – haven’t you already seen everything?  There are so many new places to visit.  On a menu I am always scanning the choices looking for something new to try.   Perhaps I have a natural ability to be forward focused? 

But is being perpetually forward focused necessarily a good thing?  In its own way it may be as limiting as dwelling on the past.  You could get lost in the endless possibilities of ‘what’s next?’  The older I am the more I understand that more choices do not lead to happiness.  I can’t help but believe that being fully present in the current moment is an even better state of mind.

It brings to mind a scene from the movie ‘Star Trek: Insurrection’ in which Captain Picard learns how to capture and slow down the perfect moment.   It is something that practitioners of meditation know well.   Now, how to continuously achieve that coveted state is something to ponder.   It sounds a bit lofty, this new goal.   It may take a while to get there.   No better time to start than right now.     This very moment.