Considering expenses

Investing in me

The answer to this prompt, for me anyway, is not a single purchase.

I think spending money has all kinds of strings attached to it. Good memories, bad memories, pride, regret and everything in between. It reminds me of asking about a favorite diet someone went on in some past year. Success perhaps? How does it matter now? Oh but it does…

Remember that one hand bag? It was never about the hand bag or the set of pots and pans, or the necklace or the concert ticket or whatever one item. Would we buy it again? Do we remember with joy? With good or bad reasons ? With remorse? I hope no remorse.

I think spending money on ourselves can bring up different feelings for different people. Truly, I feel like it’s a good barometer. How ARE we feeling about ourselves in whatever moment? I used to never spend on myself. I got so much joy from buying things for my kids or family and besides, spending used to need so much more justifying in those days. That was a different me.

Now, I do give to myself, I like to, I don’t want to over spend or over burden myself with stuff, but I love what I buy for me. It’s interesting, that when I was almost never buying anything for myself, I don’t remember most of the things I bought for others, but I do remember the things I went to bat for for myself. The armoire I put on lay away. The pictures I had matted and framed. I loved those things and got years of joy from them.

Yesterday G bought me this antique vintage bowl. I would have said no. I don’t need a bowl right now. It’s frivolous and silly. What would his parents think? It’s big and chunky and maybe not universally beautiful, It’s completely impractical and wrong for our life. Yet the moment I spotted it, my heart skipped a beat. It had a Christmas baking energy that made me want to rise cardamom bread in it or stir molasses into ginger cookie dough. Or or or…

Christmas is a little ways off. Planning for it is impossible at this point. With so many variables, and so little control, who can say if there will be any baking for me this year. Likely not and definitely not in my beautiful new bowl. No festive Christmas salad either (I promise, it would be Pinterest worthy with toasted pecans and pomegranate seeds complimenting its aged green color) Salad isn’t anyone’s thing here, I get it, but oh my oh my

My bowl!

The feeling of receiving this bowl at that moment was priceless. Unexpected, utter happiness. Can a bowl bring joy? Can any purchase? Uh YES! Absolutely. Can you fix things with a purchase? I can’t answer that, but I will say joy CAN come from a thing. So never feel guilty for shelling out some cash for something you know will bring you joy and happiness. It might be fleeting, but it might just be completely worth it!

I am feeling joy thinking about my green bowl right now!

G also bought me three hand made vintage ornaments. I did cry. Yesterday was Christmas and my birthday and one long Hallmark movie/ Gilmore Girls special rolled into one. We hunted for aged wood, we visited our new favorite bakery, we raked leaves and walked by the water at sunset. We cooked together and watched my favorite Italian cooking show. (the guys plays opera! My favorite operas seem to be his as well) Seriously unexpected utter joy. I adore my new bowl. I hope you all love your expensive purchase memories as much as I will be loving this one!

No surprise

What was your favorite subject in school?

Art

No surprise there.

When I used to teach art to elementary school students I think one of my favorite parts was when kids would sit down and sigh contentedly. I could see them visually relax. Even the kids who struggled or the ones who got into trouble (not with me), would tell me how much they loved art class. It was hard to get them to leave!

Growing up, I had to wait until fourth grade to get art with a real art teacher. That was a huge thing for me. When it finally happened, I loved it, just as I knew I would. Then sadly we moved away that same year and I had to wait until seventh grade for a real art teacher again. When I was teaching, I could tell the kids appreciated doing real art.

As a teacher, I enjoyed art discussions with a whole class. The kids would get so animated and have so much to add. We’d be talking about dada abstract or Whistlers Mother, or Van Gogh and someone would forget to wait to be called on and I would forgot the protocol myself because the insights were so good and the conversation was so interesting, then the teacher would correct us and we would all remember that we were at school in a class with rules…

Kids love learning about artists and art movements. Art can be a history lesson, it can teach compassion and empathy. Art can give practice to motor skills and attention to detail, Following directions, making decisions, I saw so many reasons for why schools should have art.

Art exercises the whole brain. I had a couple of lessons where the right, non verbal side of the brain was in charge. You could hear the switch as one by one each class member fell silent and all but their drawing hand became still. Home room teachers loved these lessons. I was fascinated with the phenomenon. I wrote all the curriculum as I went along so every week was an experiment. I didn’t know that kids could get to kindergarten having never used scissors. I didn’t know that younger children understand abstract better than older ones, actually better than most adults. If you want to know what emotions a painting is portraying ask an elementary aged kid. Did you know coloring is a skill that can be taught?

Oh I did enjoy art class!

Are we talking about my life saver?

How do you manage screen time for yourself?

For now, my screen time is saving my life again and again and again! How do I manage it? Well I would say with gratitude, love, and persistence.

I google everything. I have so many questions. I read, I write, I listen to podcasts and music, I text, I FaceTime, I Zoom, I even use my phone to call people!

I get through everything with a little help from this hand held little friend, and it’s large desktop counter part. Screen time? Oh we manage…

It’s not so bad

Some days it just takes the morning happenings…

The gravity of our current situation is punctuated with some unpredicted rain. I am pretty sure last nights forecast was for an unseasonably warm day…

It could still happen

My debit card could come in the mail today, I’ve called three times and they have checked the address and confirmed it was mailed out last Tuesday. I can not open a bank account here because I have no proof of residency. Yoga is on hold for that reason.

Everything is on hold so what difference does it make?

The prompt today was about what will my life look like in three years. Oh man I hope it looks better than this!

On almost every level I am uncomfortable. That’s all, just a tiny bit uncomfortable. Just a bit of discomfort…

It’s not so bad. Remember in the first Rocky movie when he was losing that last fight and somehow after his eyes swelled shut and he looked completely beat, he started saying that?

And he got a second wind and started bobbing around saying it’s not so bad Is not so bad.

Okay I’m being a tad over dramatic. But well it’s not so bad, I can take it. What’s a little discomfort?! There are worse things…it’s not soooo bad!

A Dream of Hopefulness

What will your life be like in three years?

I hope it will be amazing

Fun, I’m hoping for some fun

I hope there is some lovely comfort and happiness and beauty in store for me. I’m also hoping for purposeful creative work.

I’m hoping against hope that Peaceful Hearts and Beatrix Butterfly find their audience and go on to help millions regulate and thrive.

Im hoping this so I can write my third breathing book about the earth.

Monday

Monday after the time changed. Good morning!

How to fill the hours before work? Waiting for the temperature to rise a little before I set out on my walk, I’ve turned my attention to the lovely things. (I’m a morning person just to remind you).

We left the hospital last night on a high note. That after many lows… On this beautiful sunny morning there is some open space for peace.

Last time I was at yoga, the instructor told us a story about these two brother gods who were fighting over who loved their parents more. The parent told the two to prove their love by racing around the world. The one brother had a fast companion animal to ride, but the other only had a tiny mouse. plus he was a multi armed elephant. The faster brother rushed off and was quickly out of sight. Gnesh ,the elephant guy on the mouse made a very small circle around his parents and thus completed the journey saying to his parents, you are my world.

What she told us this parable/story is saying, is that our worlds are actually really small. We are more effective when we concentrate on the tight circle we have right in front of us. Rather than go away from who and what we love and care for, we can love more efficiently everyone in our worlds now. I feel like this extends to our neighborhoods and communities.

Most of us can’t be on the other side of the world saving others, but we can love our children and teach them how to be respectful and show love. We can be kind and loving toward our neighbors. We can treat the people we know and see every day with respect and understanding and kindness,

I like this because as I get older, I see that Gandhi was right. We do have to be the change we want to see for the world. I see how me taking care of me, helps me be kinder to others. It allows me to remember that we all have dysregulated moments and helps me feel more compassion for everyone including myself. I have had a few go rounds with dysregulation lately and just the small act of asking myself what I think could help, has turned the tide enough for me to begin regulating.

Regulation. It’s a wonderful thing. It’s lack of permanence is sometimes hard. Everyone knows this, but the action of re regulating, can return to us in a moment.

This is what I would like to focus on and be grateful for on this November morning. I’m going to celebrate a beautiful window of regulation and wish you all one too!

Kindness Matters Month

Invent a holiday! Explain how and why everyone should celebrate.

My friend Jill has a non profit called Kids for Peace. Every January they do a kindness matters campaign with school children all across the world.

There is a checklist of kind acts, all thought of by kids. There are activities and celebrations. Photos and clips of kids doing kind things are shared by kids and teachers from hundreds of countries.

I once went to Washington DC with her to visit an official peace headquarters. We had a few kids, a couple of KfP representatives and the list. As we traveled we did the smallest kid thought of kind acts. The surprising affect it had on the many people we met was captivating. The smallest of kindnesses caused smiles everywhere we went.

I think it would be a great addition to our grown up calendars to have Kindness Matters day or month be a national holiday. I didn’t invent it but I think it’s a good idea.

Culture observation

Here’s a thing.

Rarely do you see a Californian mow their own lawn. Yards tend to be small. There are drought resistant plants taking up portions of the space, but I’m not sure I know anyone with their own mower. It’s a service. We inherit a gardener from the people before us. Yard work is a business. There are professionals. It’s not about wealth, even the smallest of yards in every kind of neighborhood has a gardener. Even people who garden, have someone.

Here on the East coast it is not at all unusual to see an eighty- five year old home owner mowing their half acre lot. Grass grows easily here, so there is no shortage of it. Not everyone owns a riding lawnmower either. It’s November and cold, but still the grass needs to be mowed. I’m not able to tell when, I think it’s a weekly thing, but has to be worked in around the rain, so it’s not like every Tuesday. Even the time of day varies. The grass looks almost identical after as it does before. Up close you see the tell tale lines, from a distance, it’s the same. Okay for some lawns it looks greener and more tidy. Today we get to mow and rake leaves and I confess that it’s something I’m looking forward to.

I have memories of my father and most of the neighbor fathers out on a sunny Saturday morning mowing their lawns. This became established in my head as a male dominated activity. One that was followed by a cold beer and the rare moment of sitting in a lawn chair in the shade.

I remember the smell of cut grass. The peace around a happy satisfied father admiring his work. These are fond memories from my childhood.

Since arriving on this coast, I have yet to see a man operate a lawn mower. Is it the opposite of my childhood? Is this a female dominated chore nowadays?

When I first saw my mother-in-law mowing in her cute outfit and make up. Not a hair out of place, I tried to help. I could not believe everyone was okay with her doing this.. She seemed to have a particularly quick turn around. I think she mows every three days. I learned that it was a self propelled mulching mower so the effort was mostly in keeping up with it, but still.

On this chilly November morning I can see some neighbor women out mowing and mowing and mowing. It’s purposeful work. There seems to be some pride and joy in doing these kinds of things. I tried it. It wasn’t terrible. There are things no one tells you that everyone assumes you know, (they will have a good laugh as you learn and then share that laugh with anyone who missed the comical moment)

I miss California so much. The good feelings of peace I used to feel, I miss hearing the mowing sound, that fresh grassy smell, has now been replaced with a less comforting stress. Mowing has nearly lost its charm. I’m hoping that by combining it with raking fall leaves, I’ll rekindle some fun nostalgia. I know it’s a long shot.

I liked my California life.. I like the way I stayed busy. For some reason, and I know to others it’s odd, I felt my purpose ‘fit’ and my version of purposeful ness made sense. Here, I don’t know about anything.

I guess the mowing is yet another reminder of how much I wish I could go home. I wish I could BE home. I wish this segment of life could be a tiny bit less ungrounding. I am hungry for the nurturing, warmth of my own kitchen. Its exhausting being out of the loop on everything. It’s been a long week after many long long weeks of judgement and misunderstanding. This new development has cast a dark shadow and intensified everything.

It’s why we are here. I keep reminding myself of this, but man, it’s no cake walk. I knew it wouldn’t be,but yeah…