Can WE Do It?

Final thoughts as the year ends:

Last night I went to see The Hobbit.  It was not The Hobbit of my teenage imagination. It was violent and gory and to the young children in the next row, I imagined, the stuff of nightmares.

"How did you like the movie?" my husband asked as we exited the theater.

"I couldn't stop thinking about those small kids behind us," I said.  It was totally distracting.  Every fang, every scream, everything flying from the screen in 3D seemed too much for them. And if it wasn't too much for them, if they weren't sensitive to the horror, that was even more distressing.

I talked for a few minutes about the way the motion picture association and movie makers manipulate movies and ratings to gain the most profit from them.  How parents don't preview movies, ignorantly send their children to see things they shouldn't see. I would have probably sent mine to The Hobbit with a babysitter or gone with them from reading it years ago.

I don't do war movies, but I love war novels.  When I read, I am limited by my imagination whether innately or deliberately.  In movies it isn't like that.

I came back to those children in Newtown and the boy that killed them.  What can I do? I keep asking myself, feeling small and helpless in the face of the media and their lust for money, the gun people with their powerful lobbies and big money, the decreasing funding for mental healthcare.  What can I do? I asked my husband.

"You have a blog," he said.

Yes, I do have a blog.  I've posted every week in 2012 and fifteen hundred people have read my posts.  Not a huge amount - I know bloggers who have that many visitors in a day - but that's fifteen hundred people I think are thoughtful and concerned.

I go back to the title of this blog: Can I Do It?

In 2013, I'm going to ask CAN WE DO IT?  I'm going to do research about the big issues that surround tragedies like Newtown and find ways to make small changes that will have a big impact. I'm going to put together town meetings at my local bookstore. I may ask people to guest write; my daughter who was a schoolteacher has strong opinions.  I'll post at least twice a month about what I've learned.

In the theater, I found myself thinking, "In my day...." and it made me feel old.  But the truth is, in my day, nobody came into the schools and shot classrooms of young children.  The worst you faced in the theater was people spitting on you from the balcony.  There weren't any malls, but I could ride the bus downtown and spend the day window shopping with my friend and come home with nothing worse than clothing lust. I want some of that back.

I hope you'll be an active participant in this undertaking. There's real power in the WE of CAN WE DO IT?

A sense of safety for everyone.  Prosperous in the ways that count. Working to change what's not working. Lucky in '13.  My wishes for us in the coming year.

Whose Bravery?

I'm struck every day by how we judge others by our personal standards.  Oh.  You've noticed too?

This past weekend, my husband and I were staying at a place where they furnish bikes.  There were two of them and both of them felt uncomfortable for me.  The seats were too high and I didn't feel like I could stop with any stability.  My husband called me a wimp for not agreeing to get on one even though I didn't want to.  The discussion moved forward in that way of discussions and soon I was being accused of not ever wanting to take chances or push my physical limits.

In the old days this type of 'discussion' would have deteriorated rapidly.  But on that day I took a minute to think about what he was saying.  He was saying that he liked to take chances and push himself physically and that if I didn't there was something wrong with me.

"Okay. I get what you're saying," I said.  "So, I tell you what.  I'm going to give you a piece of paper and in five minutes I want you to write the beginning of a story.  Then I want you to read it to a group of people, some of whom you barely know."  He looked at me like I was crazy.  "Then," I went on, "I want you to spend hours expanding it and revising it and after you feel like you have something worthwhile, I want you to send it to a dozen literary magazines and wait for them to reject it. And if you don't do this, I"ll tell you I think you're a wimp.  Or stupid."

Hmmm.  Something started to sink in maybe?

"In the past seven years, I've been brave in ways I never thought possible," I told him beginning to get emotional.  "They aren't your ways of being brave, but they were acts of courage nonetheless.  For you to hold me to your standards of bravery is patently unfair."

He got it. And I appreciate it. 

What I took away from the discussion is that he would like for me to do more things with him that are physically challenging.  He has certainly put himself in situations at my urging where he wasn't all that comfortable.  So I'm going to work on it.

Is there a place where you're holding people to your standards without respect for their strengths?  Where are some places where you might stretch yourself, be courageous where you haven't been?

Theme Post

By "theme post" I mean this will really get to the heart of my ability to "do it".

Last night I was putting together a business card for the Moore Square exhibit. And I couldn't figure out what to put on it. "Photographer"? Well, I'm not professionally a photographer. Besides, what if someone saw that and wanted me to photograph something? What if I'm not good enough to do that? What if what if what if????

Usually my photographs are taken in the heat of the moment, the way the sun is shining or the appearance of an interesting creature, the discovery of something by the side of the road. The only time I was asked to shoot, the pictures turned out really well. But that was just luck, right?

Until the last few years, I didn't think of myself as a creative type. I can balance a checkbook to the penny, file insurance and taxes, type letters, answer the phone. I do a pretty good job leading discussions groups. I'm a great planner, and can cut to the chase on a task.

Then I saw a San Diego sunset from a hotel balcony and started taking picture after picture with my point and shoot camera. I quit drinking and to fill the time started making cards and taking writing classes. And before I knew it, I considered myself a creative person.

But call myself a writer or a photographer as though it is a job that I do? Expectations follow.

I compromised by putting "my name/Photographer/'Picturing Moore Square'" on the business card. Photographer for a night; I can do that.

Preparing the exhibit has turned out to involve extensive research on how to do a gallery exhibit, interviewing people and making a DVD of the interviews, advertising, making posters and asking people to put them up - way more work than just framing and hanging photographs. It has been an intense learning experience.

After the exhibit is over, I'll probably have a better idea of how I stand as a photographer. Ready or not, I'm doing it. But I am very, very scared!

A New Idea

When I first set up this blog, "Can I Do It?" was an abstract theme. Since its inception, though, I have come back again and again to the ways that I have pushed myself beyond my comfort zone in the past few years.

And now, another opportunity has arisen. Like the music workshop, it involves doing something that I've never done before and that I don't feel that I have all the skills to do. And yet, I've talked with another person about the possibilities and felt her excitement, and realized that I know two people who are positions of power to help me.

I am remembering when my children were younger and I was afraid to let them do something they'd never done before: spend the night out, ride their bikes in the street (I know, girls, I never really got over this fear), walk to a friend's house or home from the bus stop, drive away in a car, go to college, move to a new city to live. And for every time that they attempted something and it was successful, I felt more willing to let go the next time. My oldest daughter made it easier for the middle daughter; the middle daughter even easier for the youngest.

Two recent "Can I Do It" successes are giving me courage to move forward with this new challenge. With the assurance that I have what it takes to see it through. Each courageous move, successful, gives me the nerve to try something else.

I think I can do it, and I'll keep you posted.

Harvest

Tonight was my first black and white photography class. There were two people there before me, both very young and experienced photographers. My gut said, "Run as fast as you can - you don't know squat and you haven't understood a thing in the other class and you're going to look very stupid." I stayed. And this incredible teacher explained things so that it is all starting to come together. I feel excited and very proud of myself for sticking it out. I can do it!



I just about stroked out this afternoon while exercising. I was doing some inverted and fairly complicated yoga poses (after jumping rope and using the treadmill). I think I'd better take it a little s-l-o-w-e-r.



Here's a photograph I shot from my deck last night. Although I was mad at a neighbor who took out a lot of very large trees a few weeks ago, I'm beginning to like the more open view and increased sunshine.



And lastly, this is what I saw when I walked in tonight:


The tomatoes are in!

Resolved, Part 2

The two major changes I made in my life, the decision to quit drinking three years ago and the decision to quit smoking two years ago, were begun in November of the year. I'm not much one to resolve in January because I know that the failure rate of these rosy resolutions is high.

When I made the two changes, I looked forward to the day that I had been sober/non-smoking for an extended period of time. I wanted success to be long-term. And now it is. Although I still wouldn't trust myself with a pack of cigarettes and a martini in a room alone for more than five minutes, I have a degree of confidence in my ability to continue saying no.

Last month, I decided to start going to the gym at least three times a week. I have done this, and actually like the routine of the elliptical machine and using the weights. But I'm finding myself wishing the same thing as when I quit the booze and cigs: I wish it had been longer since I started. I wish I had lost some weight and that my arms were less flabby, my knees capable of pulling me up without holding on to something. I'm impatient to see results and to feel confident about my ability to sustain my efforts.

When I am facing a difficult situation--surgery or dental work, for example--I often get through it by saying, "In a few hours/days/weeks you will be looking back on this. It will have already happened. It will be over." I want to apply this same thought process to going to the gym, using the successes of the past: "In one year, you will have been going to the gym for a year. You will feel strong and fit, proud of the effort you made to do so."

It's going to be a happy new year, friends and family. Here's to 2009--year of promise, year of peace and personal success. Take my hand, let's sally forth!

Long Lists

I had pretty much cleared my calendar of obligations during the summer, but come late August, early September things start getting wild again. I have said yes to a few things I should have said no to (although I've said no to a few things I should have said no to, also). And I've committed to do a couple of things that involve calling people and asking them to participate in an activity. This is something I absolutely hate to do.

Every single day I read about something I would like to get involved in. Causes that I feel passionate about. Causes that I could make a difference by advocating. I know that one person can make a difference. Time, though, is the limiting factor.

With only so much time, I need to take a step back from my commitments and decide which are ones that only I can do. Which are ones that I can do best. Which are ones that call the loudest to me. I have to limit myself or I'll only be doing lots of things half-assed and nothing well.

Some people have high on their list of things to do outside of work to relax. I don't work this into my schedule very often, and should. Resting feels unproductive, but I know that when I make cards, or read, or nap I do a better job on the lists of obligations.

How do you allocate your time? How do you decide what causes need you the most and which ones you need the most?

I read this quote the other day: "You can't do everything at once, but you can do something at once." Guess I'll get back to it.

Rah Rah Rah Sis Boom Bah

For the first time, I submitted photographs to a competition. I took a long time getting ready, but there was a great deal of satisfaction in hitting the "submit" button. Six times.

Thanks to those who helped me decide which ones to send in. The rest of you have the job of keeping your fingers crossed. There's money involved here. And pride. But whatever. I did it.

PS This photo is not one of the submissions, but rather symbolic of what I feel I accomplished tonight.

Optimism

In the news, they keep finding dead women; the bank and stock market crises are dashing hopes; my candidate is reneging on important issues. I have a breakfast scheduled with the board and a potential associate minister and the cleaning service cancels. My ex brother-in-law loses his job of 25 years in an industry that is dying and my brother and his family are facing several serious health issues.

In spite of it all, I feel optimistic this morning. I make our lunch: salad with fresh tomatoes and cucumbers and mozzarella cheese and it looks beautiful in the plastic container. The rain has made everything outside my windows lush and green. My dad is feeling better from a bad cold. Last night, I worked on an old memoir piece and realized how far my writing has come since I first wrote it, and I'm still high about that today. On my way to work I ride by a friend's house and see her young children standing in the driveway with an elderly neighbor, listening intently, even lovingly it looks to me, to what she is saying to them. I smile.

Today, I'll ride on the optimism, turn off the news, and keep looking around for the small things that add up to a good day.

Boing Boing

Boing boing...this is the sound of me hitting floor and ceiling since last night. We are still waiting final word from the music director (the primary source of the bouncing); I met with my writer friends; I'm working like a mad woman to get invoices out; I'm trying to reel my husband in (pun intended) from his fishing vacation so we can get said invoices out; still feeling raw from the weekend; two pieces of writing are demanding attention; the three day weekend is beckoning relaxingly; and there's a photo contest that I'm trying to get up the nerve to enter.

YEE HAH! I could use a vacation.

Double dare

Blogger Peggy Payne has dared us to wear a nametag for at least a day to see what happens. I have made a beautiful one and will proudly wear it all day tomorrow. Stay tuned.

Bicycles

Although we ride bikes every day in Oriental, those bikes are plain, lightweight, gearless models. Simple: you want to go, you pedal; you want to stop, you kick back. It's easy to get lost riding for a long time there because there are no hills. None.

Today we took mountain bikes to the trail that runs from Meredith College to Umstead Park. It was the first time I've been on a bike with gears since I was a kid, and I didn't really get how to operate one even then. I rode around the parking lot a few times to get the feel of the ride. The front wheel felt unstable, wobbling back and forth, but after a minute or two I thought I could manage a straight line.

We headed down the trail. For the first hundred feet the trail is fairly level. Then a big downhill ride. Of course the pessimist side of my brain would hardly let the optimist side enjoy the breeze and ease, reminding me that soon I would be going uphill. But before we got to the up-hell part, we rode over the beltline. I'm not really one for heights, but it was not a problem. I just didn't look down. In fact, I couldn't look down because I had to try to keep the bike on a straight and narrow to keep from swerving over and crashing into the walkers and riders on the other side.

On the other side of the bridge, the big hill came into view. I made it about a fourth of the way up and had to walk the rest of the way. Walking's good, I kept telling myself.

We rode maybe a fourth of the entire length of the trail and rode back. I alternated between euphoria down the hills and exertions beyond anything I had experienced walking/riding up those long inclines.

My middle daughter rides her bike all over Asheville, and I have a new-found respect for her strength and stamina.

I was red-faced, sweaty, wobbly, and whipped at the end of that ride, but elated too. I had ridden a bike with gears for the first time in over forty years and lived to tell the story. And I plan to get back on and ride some more hills as soon as I can. Now that I know that I can.

Check and check

(In honor of accomplishing #2 on the dread list below, I am posting one of my favorite photos from the album.)

"I will tackle at least two things I dread doing. I will not waste my time and energy by wallowing in boredom, worry, criticism, or fear. I will do what needs to be done even if it requires effort, risk and change."

This was at the end of a daily reading I got today. I sent it to my friend Peggy Payne and we challenged ourselves to act on this. Here is what I did:

1. I called a new dentist. I have dreaded this for several reasons. One, I have very sensitive teeth and am prone to need a lot of numbing for procedures. I hate the thought of having to break in a new hygenist and dentist. Also I don't want to call the old one and tell them that I'm not coming back and ask that they transfer my records. I called the new dentist. (I have not called the old one--Monday's dread list??)

2. I put all of my best photographs in an album so that I can begin taking them to stores to sell them. This was a fairly extensive endeavor because I had to choose the photographs, put them all on one UCB drive, get copies, and finally assemble them in numbered order in an album. Earlier this week I had done the first three things, but tonight I finally finished the album. It looks very professional and I get that good old seratonin rush looking at so many of my good photos.

I feel great about having marked these two things off a list I began on May 1. I am not a list maker, but this list is of things that I dread doing, things that I dream of doing, and ordinary things like "rest for two days" and "watch a movie." I had done everything on the original list except watch the movie "The Counterfeiters" and get a clothesline. Now I am putting hard things on there like "do research for a story" and "submit something somewhere."

Speaking of movies, grab a box of Kleenex and go see Young@Heart. Excellent documentary about a group of seventy- and eighty-year-olds who tour the world singing. I smiled, laughed, sniffled, and cried outright. Very inspiring!

G'night.

feng shui

It took all day, but it was worth it.

Hold on to your hats!

More hot air coming your way soon--I have a lot to say and no time to say it right now. Stay tuned...

Homework

Today was the beginning of doing homework for my writing class and to tell you the truth, I was nervous. I wasn't sure I could come up with anything to write about. I was afraid that even if I came up with something, I wouldn't be able to write anything good. One of my daily readings from Tut.com said this:

"Evolution of a Dream

Dream is implanted into brain.

Dreamer becomes thrilled.

Dreamer becomes terrified.

If no action is taken, terrifying thoughts grow into flesh-eating monsters. Dream is considered unrealistic.

If action is taken, terrifying thoughts are revealed to be paper tigers. Confidence soars, miracles unfold, and dreamer begins to saunter.

Either way, Mamie, nothing remains the same."

And that's how I felt through the process: I was anxious to write, I was scared to write, it seemed crazy to think I could write anything worth reading. But I wrote anyway. And I am feeling kind of excited about sharing it with my class.

Experience (i.e. last semester) has taught me that what I wrote today isn't perfect. I'm going to have to work really hard to get it right. But that's okay. I've got a little confidence, and I swaggered up to dinner.

New Year

I don't usually make resolutions at the beginning of a year.  I undertook my two biggest overhauls the week before Thanksgiving, because jeez, if you can stand the stress of the holidays AND change--WHOA YOU'RE AWESOME!  But this year I do have some things I'd like to undertake:

A regular exercise program that I can do at home (I have all the tools....)

A regular writing discipline (I have all the tools....)

Taking more time for myself and learning to ignore chores that need to be done (I do not have all the tools....)

One of my sisters says that I am addicted to activity.  Okay so it wasn't enough that I was addicted to booze and cigs.  Come on, addicted to activity???  I just love to be around people, learning about new things, taking advantage of what other people know and share, being wih my friends, cooking for my friends, going to church, being at the beach on the boat, meetings.  Is this addicted to activity or constantly seeking stimulation?  Is the frenzy of activity in my life a way of avoiding being alone?  I like to be alone too so I don't think that's true.

Many times when asked to do something, I have to reply that I don't have a night.  And I work during the day.  So time is a valuable commodity to me, always in short supply.  But I feel that I am living my life until I die, and if that's addicted to activity, I don't think I'll give it up quite yet. 

Happy New Year.  It's the clean slate that needs drawing on.  I think I'll start today.

Portfolio and the rest of life too

Last night after delaying as long as I could, I drank two cups of regular coffee and put my mind on the portfolio for my writing class. And guess what? When I looked over the list of what needed to be in it, I realized that I already had everything I needed! EVERYTHING! I had done all that worrying about it for NOTHING!

After two cups of coffee, though, I still had a lot of hours left in the night. And I spent them thinking about several things. I thought about my artist daughter who told me that she knows she has everything she needs to create. I thought about the presents I've bought for friends and family and how it feels like just the right amount of giving. I thought about how people and money appeared for my other two daughters, just when they needed them. And I know in my heart that we already have everything we need and we can stop worrying about it and just put it all together so it makes some sense.

As I listened to Christmas music this morning, Pachelbel's Canon in D came on. This is the song I've told my family that I want played at my funeral - George Winston's version in fact - it begins so quietly and crescendos to fullness in the middle and then slows down to quiet again, just like a life does. And I said out loud thank you thank you thank you for the bounty in my life. I kept saying that over and over and I felt that "sad and happy at the same time" feeling I've written about before. It's the season of giving but I got a gift with this realization that the thing I say - "There will always be more than enough" - is really true.

In Step

The past week and a half has been really crazy. Every minute filled with at least two things that needed doing simultaneously, both requiring all my attention. Work and school. Family and friends. Travel and decorating my house for the holiday. I needed to choose from one minute to the next the most demanding thing.

More than a few times during this chaos, I have had to say to myself that people have to come first. My daughters with emotional crises, my sister rejoicing over the "A" on her paper, another sister chiding me for sharing something that should have been kept confidential, friends who needed checking on, my dad and my mother-in-law. I have had to keep my attention on what they are saying and ignore the niggling voices that remind me of my portfolio due, bills to be paid, laundry and dishes. This type of fully executed attention is something I work on. It is something that I think I have been able to improve upon through my spotty practice of meditation--making myself stop what I'm doing and be in the moment.

I have not by any means perfected this. But I'm really really working on being present for those whom I love when they need me, not when it's convenient or when all the chores are done. Now. When they need me. My full attention.

show on the road

Okay, let's get this blog started. I don't know where I'm going with it, but I can't go anywhere without the first step.