IT'S SUMMER, LET'S FORAGE

 

Through the Glass

It's so hot. Every summer I want small ways to live well.  Don't you?  Mr. Wiggles is stretched out on the cool floor by my side.  Our 15-year-old Maltipoo has a collapsing trachea, and with the vet we are monitoring his quality of life.  I try not to think about it.  He has only virtues.  I am his favorite and someday I will miss his devotion. If you love a dog, you know. 

So, yes, in this heat and political climate, we need small ways to live well.  Can you think of some?  How about starting in the morning, rising when the air is still cool, letting the dog out and watering the garden?  Letting the water wash away all the anxieties that accumulate during the night.    

From our well, water spurts on my feet and arms, dripping from the hose, soaking the earth beneath the chips around the plants.  Purple salvia, marigolds, impatiens, shiny begonias, red geraniums and a yellow-tipped ground cover that grows wild among the mosses.  Periwinkle blue balloon flowers and lemon verbena. Lantana in pink and orange.  Blue hydrangea that waits for me.  A wilting riot that needs my daily help to stand upright.  Even my forsythia need water this summer, deep-rooted as they are.  My garden is a modest creation, nestled by the house to avoid the foraging deer.  We saw a mama and her fawn just steps from the patio yesterday.  My husband jerry-rigged chairs to act as scarecrows.

Creating something may be the best small way to live well.  I read an article, "Foraging for Life" by Amy Dufault in a lovely journal called Taproot.  She wrote, "I think that our making marks a place in our lives, that the things we make by hand are stepping-stones to some greater goodness inside us."  Making releases feel-good chemicals in our brains, like a brain vitamin. I can't make much, can't bake, and my knitting can be a frustration rather than a source of serotonin. But hands in the dirt, or at my craft table with scissors, glue and glitter; taking photos for this blog, journalling or here typing away--those are creative dopamine times for me.  

We use the word Practice for yoga and meditation.  We should use it for everything we do. Why not, "I have a cooking practice" or "I have a tennis practice?"  I definitely have a writing practice, one word, one do-over at-a-time.  And with the percentage of plants that I lose to drought, deer and squirrels, gardening too is a practice. 

This article says that "making becomes a foraging of the self as much as the production of something physical."  Don't you like that idea?  We find ourselves everywhere, over and over.  The self that lives this retirement life is not the working self I used to be.  I never found her collage-journaling. blogging or gardening.  Your married self is not your single self, your parenting self is not your child-free self, your older self is not your younger. 

All these selves deserve small ways to live well.  Dufault says that our selves call to us, sometimes in a whisper, sometimes louder.  And that every call is "another bout with identification, the self crossing from country to country."

We love summer.  Most of us don't even mind the heat that much. We cope. Pools and lakes and cold drinks, vacations, cold suppers, tank tops and bare feet, air-conditioning, indoor and outdoor games, hair piled up or shorn.  We look forward to this season all winter.  Let's find ourselves and forage for small things to make this a wonderful time.   

                                                      Nina Naomi

 

THE "MEDIUM FRIEND"

 

Berthe Morisot, TWO GIRLS, 1894

I never heard the phrase "medium friend" before today when I read an article called "The vexing problem of the Medium Friend" by Lisa Miller. I've been thinking about friendship lately.   friends are important.  We don't want to vex. or be vexed by, our friends

Closest friends by definition cannot test the limits of our time, love or energy.  We love them, we make time for them, we preserve our energy for them. If one thing falls through, we schedule another. Best friends are called that for a reason; they are not second best in our lives.  

Medium friends are also genuine friends.  We laugh together, share news, bring insights and have serious conversations.  We may share a history of neighborhood, work or school, or have similar interests.  There are bonds. I think of my college roommate, a friend from 7th grade on, but because of distance, over the years we have each made closer friends.  Our history is deep but our contact infrequent.  Yet just thinking of her brings a warmth to my heart.    

So what is vexing about this?  The article says, and we know, that reciprocity is the foundation of friendship. Imbalance is a stumbling block.  The tension in a medium friendship arises from asymmetric expectation.  You may like your medium friend more than they like you, or vice versa.  One of us may want more time or sharing than the other. With our closest friends, as with our partners, we sort this out.  But without that closeness, with medium friends the different expectations continue. The relationship suffers from a lack of clarity.  What do we each want from the other?  In a way, it can--but shouldn't--be like dating

Miller writes that the "silences around a medium friendship are recognizable . . . to anyone who [hears] 'I'll call you' too many times."  One man wonders whether his feeling that a friend depends upon him too much is a result of his own sense of self-importance rather than any neediness in her. But being a "medium friendship," they never approach it.  Another person is hurt to be introduced as a "work friend."  "I thought we were closer than that," he thinks, but never says.  Another is confused because her friend cancels and doesn't follow up to reschedule.

"Such an imbalance confounds and wounds us," the author says," leaving us feeling powerless, angry or self-critical.  But we have no recourse."  Our friendships are bound by invisible lines we may not even be aware of ourselves.  

So what might be a different view of friendship?  The article discusses one not ranked (or giving rise to divergent expectations), but where each friendship is organic.  I have a group of knitting friends, a book group made of friends, couples' friends who are so close they are like family, couples we eat out with.  You may have the perfect tennis partner or walking buddy.  I may have someone who understands the law the way I do, or literature; who loves dogs or follows Duke basketball; or enjoys a serious conversation.  Who shares my faith or love of nature and gardening.  Who will knit or craft with me or go shopping.  Each friendship can flourish on its own terms.  We are both served.  What a lovely medium friendship.  And if it waxes and wanes, that's what friendships do.  They serve a purpose that might dissolve for one of the friends or for both.  Or they may rekindle because the friendship was deep enough or rewarding enough to outlast the waning.  

This article gave me much to think about today.  It was time well-spent.  Perhaps with these insights I can enrich my friendships as well.  

                                In friendship, Nina Naomi 

NOTHING IS MISSING, YOU ARE ALREADY WHOLE

I love this quote. There are so many reasons for us to believe this.  For Christians, God says that nothing can separate us from His love.  His love for us is eternal.  He loves us as we are; His love is a gift; we do not have to earn it.  In the mind of God, nothing is missing in us; we are already whole.  

I was raised to love this quote.  My mother was not theological or devout.  But her love was a shadow of God's love.  I knew that I did not have to earn it.  Or my father's. What a gift it is to have parents like that.  Not everyone does.  And yet, with or without such parents, we are each already whole. 

I love this quote because we are whole whatever our religion or none.  We are whole no matter who raised us.  It is in our nature to be whole.

So, what does this mean day-to-day?  It means that it is our choice whether to give up or keep going.  We have the capacity to keep going.  We are made that way.  But it also means that even those who give up are whole.  We are all saved.  

We can pass by, or we can pause.  We can pause to enjoy the wildflowers.  We can pause to share.  We can pause. to give unto others.  We can pause so that our life is long and fulfilling. But even those who pass by are whole.  We are all saved.  

We can be vulnerable.  We can forgive, especially ourselves.  We can recognize that insisting on perfection in ourselves or others is more than unkind.  It is ruthless.  Instead of living in the dark, we can push up to the light.  But still. we are all saved.  

We can crumble or be brave.  Sometimes we must crumble in our hearts before we are brave. We can act in spite of our fears.  So much of what we choose takes bravery. But because we are already whole, we forge ahead.  We are saved. 

We might choose to have faith, to believe in the unseen, the intangible.  On Christmas we might believe that Jesus is born a baby in a manger of a virgin mother. On Good Friday we might believe that Jesus is crucified.  On Easter Sunday we might believe that He is Risen.  Other faiths are just as extravagant on their face.  They.  We.  Nothing is missing.  All are already whole. 

CREATING CALM

A Calm Place

I need to create some calm today, calm for my mind that worries too much about so many things, some that matter, some that don't, and some I can do nothing about whether they matter or not.  Oh my, I definitely need to create some calm.  

So I picked up a lovely magazine, The Simple Things for June.  That was a good start.  Simple things are calming.  Or invigorating.  Or pleasing.  Just about whatever we are escaping or needing, simple things help.  We know that too be true.  What's the opposite of simple things?  Well, complex or frustrating or nerve-wracking things.  Irritating things.  Convoluted thoughts, intrusive memories, worries that twist into worries. 

I must not be the only one who needs calm.  There are enough of us to write articles and books about it.  Classes on mindfulness and neuroscience courses as well. This June issue has a feature on Creating Calm.  "When life feels tough, doing something creative can have a soothing effect on the mind and body," is the subtitle. The jist is, we all have a creative muscle and using it is a kind of instant First Aid.  

My first-line creative endeavor is writing.  I often turn to this blog.  But also writing just for me, private writing or prayer journalling.  Writing helps empty the mind and release thoughts and feelings otherwise left festering and unattended.  The benefits of Trauma Writing are well-known, but in ordinary situations, more neutral writing prompts are wonderful.  They are sprinkled throughout this blog. 

The Simple Things article talks about writing when we need a short, powerful release to soothe the nervous system.  Who doesn't need that once-in-a-while? Choose words like shine, grow, safe, water or sky, or whatever you want, to get started.  Write as long or short as you please.  See if you don't feel better.  

The article also suggests moving in dance when anxiety levels are high.  It doesn't solve the cause of our anxiety, but the music and movement disrupt the messages of danger our brains are sending.  I daresay, music alone does that.  The soaring music of Puccini takes me where I need to go; I need to remember that when my mind is askew.  

Visual poetry is one I hadn't seen described with those words.  But it is thinking about a specific place that makes you feel alive, safe and full of possibility. Often a place outdoors.  Write down a few words or lines that transmit the feeling of this place for you.  Then pick colored pencils or markers and write the words in a way that shows the feeling.  Big letters or small, wavy or curvy, spaced out or staggered. Blue for one word, yellow for another, green for another.  This gives us endless ways to be joyfully creative.  I haven't tried this yet, but I'm getting energized just thinking about it.  Which of my happy places will I make a visual poem about?  Which of yours will you?

Finally, this article reminds us that collecting is a creative process.  I love this reminder.  We often feel guilty for keeping the things we keep.  More clutter, we might chastise ourselves.  But no.  It's healthy.  Seashells, handfuls of colorful buttons, embossed glass jars, tiny ceramic figurines . . . whatever. The article suggests decorating boxes for the little things we collect.  My granddaughter and I used to spend long afternoons carefully decorating shoe boxes for our keepsakes, the ones not on display.  I have boxes covered in washi tape, wallpaper remnants, chalk-paint labels and more, all mod podged into shininess. 

Of course, reading can be calming.  If I hadn't picked up one of my favorite magazines, none of these ideas for creating calm would have come to me, not in this way.   Release, recharge, restore.  Goal achieved!    

 

ANOTHER JUNE HAS ARRIVED

 It's June already. Our anniversary is June 4, and it always arrives as a surprise. This is the front of the Anniversary card my husband gave me this year.  We have a tradition of doggie pictures.  The card I gave him has a corgi and a schnauzer on it, but this one is better.  I love it.  

We've had so many anniversaries that we can't remember where we spent them all.  Some traveling of course; after all, it is June.  One in London, one in Rome, one in Alaska and the Canadian west, several at little B&Bs, but most with good friends or family, often at the grill in our own backyard. This year we met close friends who also have a June anniversary for supper at a local place with an outdoor patio.

Tongue-in-cheek, I will tell you the secrets of a long marriage:  marry young, live long and don't get divorced.  I will also tell you the actual keys to a good marriage, at least some of them:  don't keep secrets from one another; don't hurt one another--but if you do, stop, repent and apologize when you're wrong and forgive when you're right; cling together during traumas, no matter how brutal; do what's best for the marriage.  There are other secrets of course.  Sleeping like spoons helps.  Embracing often, whether when making love or not, is good.  Physical touching restores.  Fight fair, don't try to one-up, listen to each other, show interest.  So many of the things we do to maintain all of our friendships   

Be together more than you're apart. Love with abandon.  Give each other space, but not too much.  Don't put others before the marriage, not even other family.  Don't let grievances simmer; address them with persistence but kindness.  

I'm not an expert.  No one is, not even the 'experts.' But we have survived the most difficult of times and will miss the other desperately when one is gone. And yet we prepare for that too, in our way, discussing our blessings and how one of us might live when alone.  And as it happens, we have our faith.  That always helps.  

So, June it is.  Just moments ago, it seems, we were enjoying the cold days and dark nights of winter.  That's a good time to strengthen a marriage too.  But for the hubbub of Christmas and the hours at our jobs, we tend to hibernate in winter, like animals in dens or coiled under the leaves waiting to be roused by the sun.  Most of us love that slower time of year.  It's a time to cuddle under blankets with Netflix.  Whether with someone or not, it's a special time to be kind to yourself.  I like the saying, "Nothing is missing, you are already whole."

Spring is brief where I live and summer long.  And now it is here, not according yet to the calendar-- still a few days away--but already we are headed to the longest day and shortest night.  The winter solstice is barely over when the summer one is in our sights.  Every year the quickness of the cycle is a reminder of the brevity of life.  It's a truism that hours might drag but years do not.

What shall we do from anniversary to anniversary, from winter to summer, from birthday to birthday?  I'd like to be better at savoring.  If you're single, savor your independent life.  If you're in a good marriage, savor that.  Since we're aging, savor that.  We have lived longer, know more, think with more precision, understand how the past affects the present and the present, the future.  We have achieved much, I in my long marriage and on my own, you wherever in life you are.  

I am so glad it is June, and we are headed to the longest day.  Let us savor the light.  And when the year is half over, let us look to the approaching longest night.  Nothing is missing, our lives are already whole.  

                                    Congratulations to all, Nina Naomi