Four decades of red shoe regrets, resolved

I've had a love hate relationship with red shoes for so many years ... stalking them, loving them, lusting for them, even buying them again and again, only to find myself unable to wear them because they're just way too red. There are at least three pairs stashed away right now in a box in the garage that I've never worn, even though part of me still loves looking at them. I even get them out to try on every once in awhile.

Anyway. Today I break my long blog silence to announce that the curse has been lifted: I've found some red shoes that I love, that I can actually wear. Check 'em out!

OK, so maybe they're not the height of fashion ... I actually worried as I was ordering them that they might look like clown shoes, or children's shoes. But they don't (well, maybe a tiny bit, but in a good way). I'm happy with them. They're red enough to be red, without being TOO red. I love the slight platform, the soft thick leather, the comfortable strap. And you can't tell from this picture but they're very wide across the toes, just like my feet. I plan to wear them all summer.

What else? I still think about blogging every day, but so much of what I think of saying seems kind of unnecessary to say. That's a spell that seems to have been broken lately too – my decades-long compulsion to document my experiences, rather than simply living them. I think that practice helped me, more than anything else I've done, to learn how to really inhabit my own life. Writing it all down – and paying close attention to myself, so I can be accurate in my account – has taught me to love it all. I read something the other day that rang true to me:

The great Japanese film director Akira Kurosawa once said, "An artist is someone who never averts his eyes." In 1923, the Great Kanto earthquake killed 100,000 people and destroyed Tokyo. Kurosawa was just 13 years old and walked amongst the devastation of human and animal corpses. When he tried to turn away, his older brother instructed him not to avert his eyes. As a result, Kurosawa came to believe that looking at the whole of life was a way to defeat fear.

That's a big part of what I've been doing until lately with this blog, and with journaling in general. Learning to defeat my fears. I can't say they're totally defeated, or that I expect them ever to be, but I do feel safe in my life and in the world right now, and that makes me feel generous and strong, like I have more to offer than this inward-turning exploration of my own ego. I guess that's why I'm not writing much right now. I'm feeling more like expressing myself in other ways.

While I'm quoting people, here's another quote I've been meditating on for awhile, that I feel I've finally internalized to the point where it's truly how I see the world. I have it on a little card on the refrigerator and have been painting it in calligraphy on little cards to leave around town ... just for fun, and maybe to share the blessing it's been to me:

Hm, what else? It does seem like a long time since I've written anything down. Just for utilitarian purposes, I'll go ahead and document some highlights, in no particular order.

1. I'm about half way done winding down with the antidepressants. They did their job for me again, and I'm grateful. Once again however they did cause me to gain weight – about 20 lbs since August – and that is not good for me. Actually, I don't think they directly caused the weight gain; what seems to have happened (again) is that they make me sleepy and hungry, and hungry specifically for carbohydrates, so that it's very hard to exercise and eat like I know I should. So I'm weaning myself off them and forcing myself to do what I need to, even though I really, really don't feel like it.

2. The job is still going great. I don't think it's possible to overstate how much I love it. This, too, I think, is a huge part of why I'm feeling so good these days.

3. Not that everything is perfect. I don't feel like cataloguing everything I don't like, though. It's all just normal stuff, no different than what most people have to deal with in one way or another.

4. We found out last week that Tater has diabetes insipidus. It isn't the same thing as diabetes mellitus ("sugar" diabetes – the kind I have) – it's caused by a deficiency of a different hormone, and isn't life-threatening; it mainly just means his kidneys can't concentrate urine properly so he needs to drink a ton of water, and pee a lot (that's how I realized something was going on; he was just drinking soooo much water). We're starting him on a medication that should help. Other than that, he's still doing great, enjoying his food, toys and walks, and even inviting Bea to wrestle with him every once in awhile, just like a big puppy. He'll be 13 on June 1.

5. Bea is just a wonderful, wonderful little dog. We're doing an agility class together, and she's also evolved into a major ball hound. That's fun for both of us and makes it easy to exercise her – I just throw the ball for her for 20 minutes a couple of times a day and that about does it for her.

6. I think I am officially turning into the nutty middle-aged dog lady. And I'm pretty much OK with that.

7. My latest obsession is finding the perfect underwear to wear under summer dresses. I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to figure out how to make it myself, and I have a plan. It's based on a pair of ladies' old-fashioned silk combination underwear from the 20s that I found at a vintage shop a few years ago, and is basically a full slip with a camisole top and a long-ish split skirt at the bottom, and possibly some kind of drop flap at the crotch (this is the part I'm still working out, how the crotch needs to work in combination with the longer legs. The piece I have is more like tap pants on the bottom, but I wanted something that will work better on a bike). The goal is to create something that is loose, cool and comfortable, with no clinging waist band or straps to fall down, and with two legs so you can ride a bike without worrying about the whole thing flying up over your head.

8. We've been putting up birdhouses all over the property this spring and as of this weekend we have over 90% occupancy.

9. My early morning yoga experiment lasted exactly one day, at which point I pulled a muscle in my back (in an un-yoga-related incident) and was out of commission for almost two weeks. By that time I'd basically given up on the whole idea of my spring practice period, and decided to just do what I can, when I can. I'm still going to my class at the gym and practicing a little bit at home each day. I want to do more and when I can, I will!

10. The early rising thing was not a total loss, however. I'm learning how to go to bed earlier and gradually it's getting easier to wake up earlier without such a struggle. Part of the problem, I've realized recently, is Mr. A's schedule – he's up between 3 and 4 a.m. every week day, and even though I sleep in my own room, with ear plugs, I always seem to wake up at least partially whenever he's up and about. Synchronizing my sleep schedule with his, at least a little, has helped some; instead of going to bed at 11 or 12, I've been trying to be asleep no later than 10 p.m., which gives me a chance to get into and out of one good solid cycle before he wakes me up at 3. It's not a perfect solution but I think it's better than before.

11. I got through the whole winter without knitting a single thing and am now getting involved in summer sweaters, and tiny little pink sandals for newborn babies in Japan. This is not just any baby, but the baby of my first true love from high school, who's lived there for almost a decade now and is having a daughter in just a couple of weeks with his adorable Japanese wife. Apparently nobody does baby showers or shares baby clothes over there, so they are having to outfit the entire enterprise alone ... Except, they're not really alone – I'm crocheting furiously .... Wishing I had had the time and inclination to do more of this kind of thing when my own nieces and nephews were being born, but I guess better late than never.

12. Speaking of family, I've been more homesick for my brothers and sisters and parents over the last several months than at any other time I can remember since I left home at 18. I'm not sure why. I just love them so much, and miss them so much, and wonder sometimes why I'm still living out here so far away ... except that I love my family here – Mr. A and the dogs, and my friends – and I love my job, and the landscape, and the plants and trees and beautiful clean fresh air ..... Anyway, I'll be traveling to Utah at least once or twice this summer, and possibly to a few other places too. Looking very, very forward to that.

P.S. One more thing – I'm on the lookout for an extremely wide-brimmed straw hat, for gardening. The biggest one I have right now is about 18" across and I would love to have one that is at least two feet across, or even wider. Almost like a parasol for the head! Oh wait – maybe this? I'm actually picturing something more a little rougher, more rustic ... Let me know if you see something like that, won't you?

My dad is on Facebook!

I had the coolest experience on Facebook today – my dad friend-requested me! I accepted the request, of course, and then tonight I called and had the nicest conversation with my parents. Apparently one of my sisters had been telling him about something that happened on Facebook and he thought it sounded cool, so he googled it to find out what it was and then signed up for an account. It totally made my day to see him on there and I just wanted to take note of the occasion.

In other news, Spring Practice starts tomorrow and I've got a whole slew of activities I've decided to undertake – chief among them the commitment to non-wearing of black until after Easter. Others have to do with my diet (I changed the wallpaper on my cell phone to an old encylopedia illustration of the pancreas, for inspiration), my exercise routine, and my regrettable habit of talking trash about people who make me feel threatened.

Details to come, though I don't know when. Still very busy, and found out today I'll be working through the weekend again, long hours alone in a cold building while the rain falls and the wind howls .... I can use the overtime money and should come out of it with a few "free day off" vouchers so it all works out in the end.

Where oh where

So, have I totally abandoned this blog? No. At least not in my heart ... I still think all the time about things I want to write about, and will write about them someday – I hope in the not too distant future.

For right now I'm way over-extended at work, both in my day job and with a couple of freelance projects that arrived at the same time and which, the economy being what it is these days, I felt compelled to say "yes" to even though what I want more than anything else at this time of year is to curl up in a warm little ball of blankets and pillows and nap my way to spring.

However. I can sleep when I'm dead, I suppose. I've heard people say that, and always thought it was a pretty stupid thing to say ... Not least of all because in my opinion lack of sleep is one of the top four or five conditions that cause people to die before their time – and also because I find the process of falling asleep and waking up one of the most pleasurable activities I know. Especially lately, since I'm such a terrible sleeper to begin with and all this crazed and frantic activity (relatively speaking – it might not appear so to others more accustomed to a speedier pace of life) makes it even harder for me to fall into dreamland, and the resulting exhaustion makes it even more tempting than ever to stay there in the morning despite all the work I've committed to ....

In any case. I just got back from a meeting about one more little project that looks like it could actually end up being kind of fun, and I know my brain is just going to be spinning and twirling all night long with ideas about where I want to go with it. Plus, I have a couple of books I've been reading, plus all the trees are busting out in blossoms, plus it's almost time (in less than 48 hours!) to begin my annual spring practice period (formerly observed as a weird non-Catholic form of Lent, sort of) and I still haven't totally decided what I'm going to do.

Restricting my carbohydrate intake to less than 80 grams a day would be good for me, and hard and unpleasant, so it would qualify as an appropriate discipline to undertake ... Other possibilities I've considered include not riding in or driving a car, increasing my daily exercise from 50 minutes to 90 minutes, establishing various other food and exercise related habits I won't bother to detail, brushing the dog every day (not as easy as it sounds, since he doesn't really like to be brushed – but it decreases the dog hair quotient around here by a factor of at least ten thousand hairs a day and would be a good habit to instill in him, too), and finally, the one that I really want to do but am unsure I'm capable of – not wearing black for the entire 40 days plus weekends from midnight tomorrow until Easter Sunday.

I know I don't look good in black. When I look in the mirror I always think I look okay, but when I see pictures of myself wearing black it's clear to me that I don't. With my hair and skin I mostly just look pasty and overwhelmed in black. The main reason I wear it so often is because it's easy – it always matches, and it hides dirt and stains, and as long as both of your dogs are black it doesn't show dog hair either. The trouble is that, were I to take this on starting on Wednesday, I'm not sure I actually have enough non-black winter apparel to keep myself clothed warmly without doing some major layering and/or shopping, which I don't have the time or inclination to do right now ....

Still, I've been thinking about it for several weeks now and it still seems like a good idea. Maybe the difficulty would make it an even better idea. The whole point is to stretch myself, right? To form at least one positive new habit a year, even though it's hard? So I might try it despite my limited wardrobe and see what happens.

P.S. I just realized too that I really hate this winter header. Look for a new one soon, probably this weekend.

6:44

Well, I did it. It wasn't so bad. In fact, I was actually awake by 6:20 anyway, so I got to sleep in a little after all.

The first thing I did was notice the thought, "I don't have to say I'm giving up the snooze button – I could say I'm getting acquainted with the early morning." I mulled that over as I made the bed, put on my slippers and shambled into the kitchen to put on some water for tea, something I never do at home, as this is more properly the first step in my settling-in-at-the-office routine. Maybe to emphasize the idea that this is the time of year when I try to examine a pattern and practice doing something different, I decided to wipe off the top of the stove while my water was heating, and promptly seared the hell out of my left middle fingertip. That effectively ended any trouble I might have had waking up, as I plunged my entire hand into a small blue bowl of ice water.

And thus it began: my spring practice period for 2007. I've decided to call it "spring training" instead of Lent this year, first of all out of respect to Catholics who might take offense to my weird co-opting of their tradition, and second, because I think it's a more accurate description of what I'm trying to do – train myself. Stepping out of my beloved rut for a few weeks is a great way to increase my awareness of my own thoughts and actions, and hopefully become more free to act appropriately in response to what is actually happening in my life from moment to moment, instead of relying so much on auto-pilot.

This seems to be a theme for me right now. I got to my office and found my horoscope for this week had already been emailed:

Question: Which part of you is too tame, overcivilized, and super-domesticated, and what are you going to do about it? Answer, from Jason R., a Cancerian reader: "I was like a mole in a suburban backyard. I had just one little path I trod each day: to the compost pile and back. I chewed on orange rinds and leftover cabbage. I was tamed by the comfort of my familiar environment, content to have a narrow vision. But then I was eaten by a hawk, and became part of a wild, free body. Now I perch on the tops of trees and the peaks of roofs. I survey giddy-wide horizons, from the river to the mesa and far beyond. I have a wealth of choices. Where to fly? What to hunt? Who are my allies? My thoughts breathe deep, like the slow explosion of sun on the morning lake."

"But then I was eaten by a hawk." I love that! Not that I want to be eaten – but that idea of rising above the fear of change and using it as an opportunity to look at things in a new way – that, I think, is useful, and something I try to remember every year at this time. It all ties into Easter, too, and the whole message of Christianity, as far as I'm concerned – the belief that we are both finite and eternal, that we can choose to die to the life we've lived so far and be reborn with a new understanding of who we are, that this can happen every day, every moment, at any time, and that this is something to celebrate!

I like the way Christianity embodies this concept in the physical being called Jesus. It makes me nervous to write about this, because I don't want to offend certain people or make them feel bad that I believe something different than what they believe ... but with that disclaimer I'll go ahead and say that I really like the story of the resurrection! I like the Buddhist way of teaching the same idea of impermanence, that we have no fixed identity, that nothing has any inherent existence, that some things are just a mystery ... but I will admit that it's been hard for me to really understand these ideas in the language of Buddhism, sometimes (although that could be because I grew up speaking a different symbolic language). The story of an actual guy who came back from the dead makes it all seem so much more real – he's a person, I'm a person, I've seen people die, I'm not just thinking about all this, I know what it's like. And if it's possible for a dead person to come back to life, then maybe it really could be possible for me to change, too. I could stop being addicted to sugar, for example. Or start waking up earlier in the morning.

Maybe that's why so many people feel so compelled to insist on a literal interpretation of the story. They somehow feel like if he didn't really die and really come back, then the whole story falls apart. But to me it doesn't. Wasn't Jesus famous for teaching via parables, anyway? And what parable could be more compelling than one about the dead guy who got his life back? He was dead, and then he got his LIFE BACK.

Form and emptiness, emptiness and form. Funny that only by studying Buddhism is all this starting to sink in with me.

(Sigh) I dunno. I'm no theologian, and I'm okay with that. Today I am just enjoying thinking about the possibilities that may arise for me once I get into the groove of this earlier-morning thing.

P.S. Just before I woke up this morning I dreamed I was doing yoga, resting comfortably in a full forward bend (Paschimothanasana) – like this, only stretched out on the floor. It felt so good (in the dream) to stretch my back and legs, and to be able to relax and breathe in this position – something I used to be able to do, but not anymore. I decided to make that a goal, too – not to have accomplished by Easter, but just something to work toward. Maybe next year I'll be able to take a nap like this! (And yes, I'm already beginning to obsess about naps – yet another benefit of early rising – better naps!)