Where Are the Spaces?

I scooted away for a short ski today (since our lack of snow has been replaced by the snowiest February on record) at a park I haven't skied at in years.  I felt a bit guilty driving there as I didn't stay long, however I chose to do a short ski instead of a long one that would be more exercise, but leave me rushed and stressed.

I also did some errands, like picking up a new lock for this window.  The other half seems to have disappeared.

I got some long underwear on clearance (I went a couple weeks ago but I was just a bit too early).  Along with a toilet bowl brush.   Little tasks that have been on the my "to do" list.

Last week my partner and I did a personal shopping session at the thrift store (something I've wanted to try for myself for over 5 years).  I'd highly recommend it, they don't work on commission so there is really nothing to lose.  She even said she'd take notes on us so if we use the service again they'll have that info.  Seriously, at a thrift store!  After washing my clothes I just left them all at my partner's place.  Now I have a pair of jeans, a pair of yoga pants...that don't need to be packed back and forth.



I chose "Where Are the Spaces?" as my subject line because though I know to compare myself to another person is simply ego, sometimes I can't help it.  I have no idea how people manage who have way busier lives than I do.  And I am often in awe, or think there might be something wrong with me.  My life has been given much beauty since my partner and his children came into it, and at the same time I sometimes wonder, "Where are the Spaces?"   I don't know how people work full time, have children and still plan things.  I don't know how people constantly go from one activity to the next.  It's hard to remember to have spaces in between the activities.  Reminds me of a poem I wrote almost twenty years ago that ends

I whisper songs of stillness, between the speed of rushing sounds.  Car doors slamming transporting bodies to various locations forgetting, 

they are held

 

forgetting 

they are loved

in the spaces

in between.

Top Ten Favorite Books (or 11)

Eight months ago, after my camera stopped functioning in Spain, I asked my roommate for the writing workshop portion of my trip to take two photos for me.  One was a picture of the two of us, where we stayed, with a beautiful landscape in the background.  The second was at an immaculate garden.  She offered to take more photos for me, but I said, "No that is all I need."

Six months later I had not received the photos.  In December I wrote her a snail mail letter, and concluded it with a reminder to, when she had the chance, send them to me.  I was not in a hurry to receive the photos, I trusted I would get them eventually, but I did still want them.

On Tuesday I was feeling really stressed and considering emailing her (she is a somatic therapist) because the issue I was stressed about was something we discussed in Spain, but I decided not to.  And then, guess what? As I was resisting this impulse, photos starting pouring into my inbox.  What are the chances of that?  The photos arrived the day I most needed them, and not only did she send me the two photos I wanted, she included ones I didn't know she took, including what is now my favorite photo from my trip.

I can't say for certain why I like this photo so much, but maybe it's that I like the person I see when she doesn't know that anybody is watching.  She is off on her own, taking in her surroundings, listening.  But I can also imagine her turning around and smiling at the person with the camera.  She has stepped away from the group, but she is still part of the group.  She is apart, but open, alone, but not lonely.  She is connected.

That same woman chose as her word of the year for 2019 - THRIVE.  Sometimes I wonder what it feels like or looks like to thrive.  I think I might just see thrive in this photo.

I felt that energy a bit this week as I worked on a job application for a small local publisher.  I wasn't sure about applying at first, but as part of the application they ask you to include a list of your 10 favorite books.  I got so much energy just from compiling that list in itself.   A few books I instantly knew would be on the list - like The Prophet - others I had to think about, or in some cases almost forgot.  I almost forgot The Phantom Tollbooth until someone I loved reminded me of it!

Well, it took some time but here is my list.  And I just realized while typing this I forgot one of my all time favorite books on my list and I sent it in this morning.  My God this book should be on there!!  Ahh.  A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life Purpose  by Eckhart Tolle.  That should easily be in my top five.  Huh.  Oh well.

List of Tammy's  Ten Favorite Books

1.      The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

2.      The Giver by Lois Lowry

3.      A Year with Rumi: Daily Readings by Coleman Barks

4.      El mejor lugar del mundo es aqui mismo by Francesc Miralles and Care Santos

5.      The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

6.      A Year with Rilke: Daily Readings from the Best of Rainer Maria Rilke by Anita Barrow and Joanna Macy

7.      Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle

8.      Manual del guerrero de la luz by Paulo Coelho

9.      Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Elizabeth Gilbert

10.  Gone to Soldiers by Marge Piercy

 

Addendum

I wrote Wednesdays gratitudes before my evening activities so I wouldn't be on the computer when I got home.  I "thought" of those gratitudes, but I wasn't feeling grateful when I wrote them.  Once I started skiing I felt more discouraged by how tired I felt than grateful to be out there.  At the last hill, 1/3 of the way up and feeling completely out of shape, I pulled to the side to rest while 7 or so young adults from the high school ski team passed by.  They were skiing fairly leisurely and one young man turned to me, and with pure sincerity and openness said, 

"Isn't it a beautiful day for skiing?"

Here was this high schooler, surrounded by his friends, extending a hand to a stranger resting on the side of a hill.

"Yes it is," I replied, and a piece of my soul thawed and my whole day opened.  I could now take in the snow covered beauty, instead of focusing on my lack of cardio fitness.  Here was this 17 year old turning to a stranger and connecting me, not only to him, but to myself and to my world.

That comment shifted my entire day.

Since I Saw You

I'm grateful that I have the flexibility to stop work a bit earlier than I'd planned.  The list of errands/activities I wanted to get done tonight was feeling stressful, even though I knew the activities were things I enjoy.

This will include, for the first time this year, cross-country skiing at the nearby park.  With yesterday's snowfall there is finally both snow and skiable Tammy temperatures (21 F, -6 C).  When I went outside to shovel the end of the driveway after the snowplow came by, it already started to calm me down. 

Part of the stress was starting the day with someone I love in distress.  Some days I handle this better than others.  Today I was able to speak to someone new in their health care team firsthand.   I felt like I was doing something, regardless of whether I actually was and she said she'd look into the things I mentioned.  It was good to least establish that connection and advocate. 

I am going to try and drop off an extra pair of skis that have sat in the garage the last few years at Play it Again Sports.  I'm not even sure they'll take them.  They are the old 3 pin type, which I couldn't find boots for anymore.   They aren't doing anyone any good sitting in the garage and the store is right next to another errand for tonight.  It is draining to regularly look at things you know you should get rid of.

I have my monthly poetry group at the library tonight and I have a couple things I look forward to reading including a poem I wrote Sunday called, "Since I saw you..."

Finally, last year around this time my partner brought me to a Trevor Hall show, someone I was completely unfamiliar with by thoroughly enjoyed.  He is coming back to town next month.