Transitions

June 22, 2013June 22, 2013 / still a dreamer / 2 Comments

Just like life is filled with dreams and plans, so is it filled with transitions.

Over the last 2 months, I’ve had a number. The most recent, though initially stressful, has been the now-happy upgrade of my beloved Mac, the primary tool of my trade. Reliant as I am upon my Mac to make a living, I was not happy to find it behaving increasingly squirrelly as of late. It’s stood up to the test of time, but has missed a few OS upgrades as well as the accompanying program upgrades. My Mac superhero, Steve, told me that right about now is when hard drives often start to fail. Gulp.

It seemed the time had arrived. So off it went to Steve to have a new hard drive and double the memory installed as well as the latest OS and other upgrades. He brought it back, did his on-site magic, and then the biggest transition began, my learning all the (sometimes) improvements of the latest and greatest software. Trust me … a transition! (I’m much calmer now.)

But the bigger transition has been – and will be – in my diet. While not really horrible by any means, my cholesterol was found to be sufficiently high that it needed addressing. Before you could say “lower your cholesterol,” I found myself plopped on 3 drugs — me who takes no meds at all, just vitamins and supplements, and eats largely organically, relatively low-fat and 99% vegetarian is suddenly infused with three. And so began a series of escalating side effects, med changes and so on … not a happy experience.

Meanwhile, at a recent picnic I was pleased and surprised that a friend bought me a book – Prevent and Reverse Heart Disease by Caldwell B. Esselstyn, Jr., M.D. – which she read because of the benefit of the suggested diet to the prevention of cancer. I started reading. The regimen the author describes is beyond vegan in its restriction of fats, and a possibility, but has some very strong limitations. Still, I want to find a way to change my diet sufficiently to get off the meds, so I ordered additional books, one of which is pictured here, plus 2 cookbooks, Forks over Knives and the Joy of Vegan Baking and The Skinny Bitch Book of Vegan Swaps.

If I’m to consider going vegan, I need to know I have options … lots of them. I’m a bake it with butter, sugar and eggs kind of girl, and this is going to be a HUGE transition. And so I’ve begun reading, investigating, considering and shopping. That I already eat animals rarely makes one part easier, but giving up dairy? Now THAT’s tough. So I’m cutting out more dairy and animal fat than I already have and wading in.

I know plenty about the quality, or lack thereof, of our food supply and the toll it is taking on the health of millions of people as well as the planet and the horrendous suffering it is causing billions of animals. I’ve never wanted to be a part of that and have taken many steps over the years to limit my participation. Apparently, the next step – this transition – is mine to take.

Dreams and Plans

June 4, 2013June 4, 2013 / still a dreamer / 4 Comments

We all have them, right? And then something occurs in our lives and we can watch them go up in smoke. Or at least for a while.

But what I’ve found is that the phoenix can rise again from the ashes, except this time, the dreams and plans have changed, perhaps evolved. Or maybe are new altogether. In any event, they have been colored by that event and now they look quite different. Can you relate?

I was often told as a child that I daydreamed too much. It was made out to be a bad thing. But how do you proceed in life without dreams … something to hitch our stars to? It seems to me that when we lose our dreams or when they get mired in the muck is when we get in trouble. I never minded being called a dreamer. I still am, and it’s just fine with me. When I have no dreams, I’ve lost my moorings.

Recent events caused my dream of being published in children’s books to be pushed into the background, to be, at least for a period of time, not that important in the grander scheme of things. That happens. But early, early this morning – certainly before I wished to be awake – the dream was stirring again, and as I thought about it, a next step came into view … a plan. As I lay there, a number of things fell into place, and I knew what I would soon do. A dream with a plan … that felt good!

Sometimes we just make plans that arise out of an event, in my case related to my health. OK – that happened, what will I do now? Up until this morning, I didn’t really know. Not exactly, anyway. However, it seems my unconscious has been quite busy when I wasn’t looking. A number of recent events – a conversation with someone I’d never really had a chance to talk to, a book that crossed my path, a wanting to know what I should do – click, click, click – it all fell into place, and suddenly I had a plan. Ideas that had been more on the line of `maybe someday’ or `that seems impossible,’ suddenly seemed real and do-able.

It’s amazing when we have a plan, how much lighter we feel. It’s as if a fog that has been swirling about us has burned off and we are standing in radiant sunshine, arms lifted in joy and anticipation. A plan, enlightened by a dream, is a wonderful thing. The path may have pebbles or rocks along the way, but it glows nonetheless.

That old Irish blessing comes to mind, and I wish a beautifully lit path of dreams and plans for you, too …

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Utterly Simple, Extraordinarily Wonderful

May 29, 2013 / still a dreamer / 6 Comments

When I first moved to my current address, I was a bit disappointed when I was requested not to plant anything in the ground. I was asked to please limit myself to potting flowers or plants on my porches. While at first that seemed a big restriction, I soon remembered an earlier home I lived in where I was on an half acre. Initially, I was ecstatic. A former owner was a gardening wizard and had all kinds of things growing from Spring to Fall, and lots of beds for the annuals of my choice. I particularly loved planting around my mailbox each year. (I’d never had a free-standing mailbox in my life, and this stood at the line where my property met the road.)

As an artist, I was loving creating fabulous color areas and changing them each year. Having come from an apartment, I also loved mowing the grass and raking the leaves of the many, many trees on my half acre. By about the fifth year, the enthusiasm was wearing off, and while I still loved my wonderful piece of land, life had gotten busier and I realized that all that landscaping was a major commitment. I never stopped doing it, but it had also become work.

So here I have a much smaller and more manageable gardening world … seating arrangements and tables which hold whatever annuals I pot for any particular year … and it’s just fine. This year I fell in love with, (among other flowers), miniature pansies, and planted two pots with two colors, a two tone purple and a delicate purple and yellow. Yesterday I started to pinch them back so they wouldn’t become too leggy, and rather than toss what I’d taken, I put them in a jelly jar on my desk. And here they sit, bringing a smile to my face each time I look at them.

I am reminded of how little it can take to bring happiness, and how something so utterly simple can be so extraordinarily wonderful. That the pansies are sitting in a jelly jar from the nearby farm that makes their own delicious jams, jellies and sauces even makes me happy. There are times when life’s stresses and busy-ness take us away from what’s right in front of our noses. And sometimes what’s there is really all we need.

The Consolation Chair

April 30, 2013 / still a dreamer / 4 Comments

If you’re sensing that there may be a bit of a double-entendre in that title, you are so right.

Here you see a photo of a wingback chair, new to me. In some ways, it seemed to have arrived in my possession as a consolation (prize) to offset a number of things I found myself having to deal with recently. And, being an item that I’ve wished I had for such a long time, I find it not only the most wonderful reading chair possible, but also one that consoles me when I curl up in its winged shape.

There really are times when we feel we’ve spent as much of our energy as we have coping with whatever is on our plates. But wait … the Universe has one more challenge to throw our way. Really? I say. Apparently so. In Living in the Light, Shakti Gawain writes about problems as messages. She says that when there are problems in our lives, it may be the Universe trying to get our attention, to tell us something we need to be aware of, something that needs to be changed. If we pay attention, we learn from the messages; if we don’t, the problems often intensify until we start to pay attention.

So I’d say I’ve been smacked quite smartly about now. And I am paying attention.

But back to the chair.

I’d gone across the street to my neighbors’ house to discuss something relevant to said problem and we chatted for an hour or so. When we came out, I noticed a wingback chair sitting at the end of another neighbor’s driveway in the spot where he usually puts out his garbage or recycling. Could that chair really be there for someone to pluck? I immediately sat in it. Possession is 9/10ths of the law, right? Mmmmm – comfy. He was mowing the lawn so we waved him down to see if, indeed, this chair was there for the taking. It was.

In no time, I had this chair, which had been in his family for quite some time and is in excellent condition, in my living room just waiting for me to grab a book and read. He was happy it went to someone he knew and I was thrilled to have it. (And of course, he has visiting privileges.) Somehow this chair appeared in that spot in a very brief period of time … it seemed meant for me, a consolation for an array of recent difficulties and for which I am very grateful.

I sit it in it and read and I sit in it and contemplate … exactly what is the message I’ve been assiduously avoiding that I needed such a wake-up call? Of course, I’m quite sure I know, and now I have someplace to sit and plan what steps I next need to take in my life. Funny how things work out.

Farewell, Gypsy Rose

April 8, 2013 / still a dreamer / 6 Comments

In Memory … Gypsy Rose

July 1999 – April 6, 2013
Rescued from Weequahic Park, Newark, NJ – January 2000

Gypsy Rose was a 6 month-old kitten when I (literally) grabbed her from a parking area in Weequahic Park on my way to work. She was with her mother, and it is likely the two were living in the cemetery on the other side of the wrought iron fence just a few feet away. I was unable to get the more street-wise mother, but brought this little tyke into my car. I buried my head under my arms against the steering wheel, while the kitten ricocheted all over my car. When she finally settled at the rear window, I drove the rest of the way to the shelter where I worked and where she would get a chance at a real home.

Gypsy’s “baby” picture … 6 months old in the shelter, waiting for love.

She was written up in the system, and placed in a cage in the area just inside the front entrance – prime real estate for adoption. There was a multitude of reasons why bringing another animal into my home at that exact time was a very poor idea, and since Gypsy Rose was cute as a button and only 6 months old, I was sure it was only a matter of time before someone would fall in love and adopt her.

But there she sat. After six months and no one expressing an interest in her, among other reasons, I knew she was meant to be mine, and the rest is history. Soon after walking into my home, Gypsy decided she should run the place thus earning herself the name of Miss Bossy Boots. All went well for this petite Queen of Everything until about October 2011, when she experienced seizure-like activity and was put on medication to reduce swelling from a possible tumor or cancer in her brain. This event repeated itself in June of 2012 when we tried to wean her off the medication.

Still, Gypsy forged on, unfazed by some growing malignancy within. In the last few months, however, Gypsy began a slow downward and irreversible decline. In the last few weeks, I watched her behaviors change, isolating herself more, eating less and less, rallying occasionally, until it became clear her time had come. She left peacefully in my arms, loved `til the end.

Farewell, Gypsy girl … you will always be home in my heart.