Susan is scrolling
Sitting in her SUV
Exhaust plumes behind
Straw on lips, iced latte sips
Johnny’s at his hobby now
Double tapped heart
Conceals the smiling faces
Friends she once loved
Seem so happy and fulfilled
“When is the last time we spoke?”
Someone else likes what you shared
Attention or affection?
Desperate cravings, fill the void
scheduled, she does it all
She’s had it all
Hard work, dusty résumé
Two point five kids and a dog
Mansion, two million
Kept clean by Maria
Quiet, paid: she’s just like fam’ly
All these years, hardly know her
Rear view mirror shows
Daughter, a spitting image
Phone in hand, shoulders hunched
Consuming and coveting
Bottomless pit of desires
Targeted ads know them well
Can’t resist another good deal
Johnny’s almost done
He’s gotten entitled, rude
That’s normal, though. Right?
Shuts himself up in his room
What is he doing in there?
The sweet boy he was
Now a distant memory
X-box Live mean kid
Expletives and racial slurs
His hugs were so warm
Where’s Susan’s mister?
At the office late again
Let’s pick up dinner
Plastic containers for all
It’s so easy, we’re busy
Busy, so busy
Unpaid labor, kid taxi
We need volunteers
PTA, Church, Baseball snacks
Room mom, binge watch a rom-com
Doesn’t want to think
About the obligations
This is her me time
Turn it all off for a while
Scrolling, searching. What’s missing?
Ubuntu: No Cashier is Safe
My teen ate half of the jalapeños reserved for the dish my husband was making for dinner. He grabbed a jalapeño, dipped it in sauce, scarfed it down. When we made this discovery, I offered to run to the store. I didn’t mind. Getting out with whatever outfit I’ve put together that day motivates me to run more errands. I had another errand nearby, too.
Whenever my teen goes to a store with me, he already says, “no cashier is safe”—from conversation with me, that is. He’ll complain about how ~sad~ it is that they can’t complete a “normal transaction.” I reassure him that their day’s work is often monotonous; everyone appreciates friendly conversation and my hilarious jokes. He’s sick of me now, but I hope he’ll follow my lead one of these days.Continue reading “Ubuntu: No Cashier is Safe”
The Flashy Girl from Fairfield: Fran Fine is Spirit Animal
I’m takin’ a breather from lessons I’ve been learning to a more lighthearted topic: fashion.
Sometimes fashion feels like the *other* F word. We relate fashion to consumerism, we relate it to vanity, and many people attribute a focus on external appearance as an act that is opposite of acquiring wisdom. The beautiful yet foolish character is one of the most overused tropes in media, so why wouldn’t we assume that those characteristics often go hand in hand?
In Ayurveda, the 5,000-year-old science of healthy living, activating physical beauty isn’t considered vanity. It’s considered “treating your underlying spiritual being like royalty.”
In my experience, I’ve noticed that it takes effort and a level of wisdom to achieve attractiveness. Though some young people may come by beauty effortlessly and do whatever is trendy in the moment, for most it takes learning about caring for skin, learning about shapes, colors, products, and then applying that learning (applied learning is wisdom) to your specific face, body type, coloring, and preferences to be attractive.
Now that that’s out of the way
Back in December, I was getting dressed up in a silly Christmas sweater with some Christmas light novelty earrings in anticipation of our town’s annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony. I threw on a red lipstick, which is out of the ordinary for me, and as I took one last look at myself before heading out the door, I thought: “This outfit makes me look like Fran Drescher from the Nanny, hah!”
I hadn’t thought about Fran Drescher or The Nanny in decades but once the thought struck me, I wondered: why? What did she dress like? All I could remember was her nasally voice and her laugh that could make you wince. So I searched the web, and the results:
As the kids say, her ‘fits were FIRE.
My interest piqued, I dug further. Costume designer Brenda Cooper won the show its only Emmy. Amongst the several articles I read about her, she mentioned that Fran’s costumes elevated the humor.
I want my humor elevated.
I want my clothes to be as loud as my personality.Continue reading “The Flashy Girl from Fairfield: Fran Fine is Spirit Animal”
2023: Consistency over Intensity
Last year, I declared 2022 The Year of Less, and earlier this month, I broke down how that went for me. (Spoiler alert: 10/10, would recommend)
I’ve been thinking about my intention for this new(-ish, at this point) year since November. I wrote a longhand first draft defining it earlier this month, but I’ve struggled to get fingers to touchscreen to prune ideas and organize thoughts in such a way that fits succinctly in little boxes with corresponding headers for my website-skimming pals. Why?
It’s because I’m not good at it. Not. At. All.
I realized that I’ve been waiting for a chunk time to bang out this blog post, and it’s not coming. I realized that the conditions I’ve been waiting for to complete this task are exactly why I’ve chosen Consistency over Intensity to be my focus in 2023.
Where I’m at Now
I’m an all-or-nothing gal. Go big or go home. In your face. My stature is small but I make up for it by being just shy of obnoxious (and sometimes I reach that, too) in all that I do.
I learned through my illness that I can’t rely on completion, that focusing on progress is the only way I’ll stay confident in the future. A marble sculpture starts as a solid piece of rock that must be chipped at consistently, every day. No matter the skill level of the artist, one couldn’t expedite that process. The artist must, chip by chip, day by day, reveal the art that the rock holds within. A life of intention unfolds in just the same way.
I learned through magical mornings how impactful the act of consistency can be. I’ve kept up with the routines mentioned in that post and added more since. What I’ve seen is a beautiful, effortless expansion in not only those practices, like meditation and headstands, but an ease that carries me through the rest of my day where I’m able to manage more tasks, more efficiently, without the pressure of feeling like I’ll be more satisfied when a task is done.
I’ve seen the benefits of routine repeated on my evening habits and after reading The Power of Ritual, I began to sanctify my routines into soulful practices that bring a warmth to my chest like a freshly brewed tea. I’ve turned myself into one of Pavlov’s dogs through intentional playlists for specific activities. I use the power of environment to reduce friction for activities I want to influence myself to do more and to slow me down from old habits that don’t serve me.
I Want More
I love less. Less is on my mind frequently, like yesterday when, all morning long, a group text thread was going on about registration for various activities for the spring opening, then going into waitlists for our four year olds. I remembered Less is More for everyone and that my preschooler doesn’t need an overpacked schedule, either.
But while I keep Less in mind, while I’ve pruned out what doesn’t serve me, Less has highlighted what I do find important: family, friends, community, health, nature, art, acquiring wisdom through creating connections between the knowledge I receive from one book to another and my personal experiences, time spent in deep conversations, nourishing my soul through ritual, parenting my inner child. Painting. Writing. Altering clothes (this is a hobby that I had completely forgotten for twenty years). Continuing to remove the rocks of acquired material goods in my life through gifting them via a local gift economy. These are what my values will continue to be as I trim the excess fat in my life—fat force-fed through targeted advertising that we as a society consume as if the end goal is foie gras.
I know, without a doubt, I want more painting, more writing, and more time with specific people in my life. When I had a poverty mindset, I would think “I don’t have time” or “How can I fit that in when I can’t seem to get what I have under control?” Now that I see the abundance around me, I know that it’s only a matter of seizing small pockets of time on a regular basis. Brick by brick, if you keep going day by day, you’ll have built a house. I’ve seen it with other aspects of my life and I want that with painting and writing. For it to be a part of my day like setting my clothes out for the following day or like brushing my teeth. Fully integrated.
Intensity Causes Procrastination
Often at the gym, we say “the hardest part is showing up.” The same goes for other endeavors—he hardest part IS stopping whatever else you’re doing so you can do the thing. Often insistence on intensity or my ugly old friend, perfectionism, makes it so I don’t show up at all.
I called my sister in the morning and told her I was going to call her back in the evening so we could book our trip. That was eleven days ago. I wanted to know what I needed to know about a specific site I wanted to visit before booking my flight and hotel. Why? Intensity is the culprit: feeling like I need to have all the information all at once.
I’ve been wanting to begin writing letters with a friend—my soul sister. She’s written me on several occasions now and I thought I’d get a 2 for 1 if I added a letter to her Christmas card, so I set it aside. She didn’t get a Christmas card (yet?). Intensity, again.
Intensity Causes Burnout
My cortisol was so high all the time back when I was focused on finishing. I was always amped up and restless for when I’d complete a task, just to find another one quickly afterward (honestly, while I hadn’t yet completed the first). There was no rest, just grind. I was so exhausted.
Now that I’ve begun working as a personal trainer in a group setting, I’ve started to find my footing in the role. I LOVE it. The old me would have been figuring out how I could get more shifts, because I love it. I keep reminding myself how gentle and kind it is to be consistent, find my footing, then increase intensity as I see fit. I have to work my way up to the heavy weights, or I’ll cause an injury. I have to meet my body/my plate where it is right here, right now.
How Does Your Garden Grow?
Last year, I related the progress of my yearly declarations to that of a plant.
I’d like to improve upon the analogy.
2019 was the Year of Community
I found my gym, founded Fairfield Shares, and met tons of new moms in my town through activities with my youngest.
Gaining community after I had none was like laying down fertile soil, biodiverse in microorganisms and rich in nutrients, where there was once was only dust.
2020 was the Year of Mental Health
I was drowning, like many. It was necessary.
If a seedling was overwatered, it would need better drainage, to be moved where there was more light. It would need tending so it could sprout.
2021 was a Glow Up
I used the tools acquired during the previous year: therapy, communication, self love, self kindness, meditation. I lost 30 pounds, started getting dressed again, pampered my skin and my soul.
Turns out that I needed to stop giving myself a beating over not becoming more like whoever I had been reading. When the growing conditions were better, the light was able shine down, the excess water was able to move outward from my roots and I was finally able to see the growth I desired.
2022 was the Year of Less
Before I had a real grasp of Less (and was blogging drunk about it nonetheless), I related Less to pruning branches. I got that one wrong.
The thing is, I’m the soil that nurtured the seed. I’m the seed that grew. Pruning the branches insinuates a violent external force that removed the excess, when what ended up happening was a natural and season-appropriate shedding of leaves. A necessary loss to conserve energy within the branches and roots.
2023 is the Year of Consistency
If less was an autumnal shedding of leaves, it makes even more sense that the year prior was of rapid growth, like summer, and before that, I was sprouting, like spring, and prior was a late spring planting and a winter where matted down autumn leaves were able to create that rich soil.
In the longhand draft I wrote of this post, I predicted that consistency would be an early spring: small buds slowly revealing themselves, rather than the firework show of flowers I expected my first spring. Now that the headers are here and the thoughts are more organized, I’m thinking perhaps a winter is in order: that consistency will be that conservation of energy required. I do still have leaves to shed. Maybe it will be a combination of both.
Only time will tell.
a duel of duality
Around ten a.m. Monday morning near the self checkout at Home Depot, I was face to face, breaths intermingling, with an unprovoked woman no taller than four foot ten inches tall shouting that she was “going to beat [my] fucking ass if [she] see[s] me again,” as no less than thirty customers and employees looked on.Continue reading “a duel of duality”
Impressionist Townscape: Downtown Fairfield Connecticut
Fairfield Impressionist Painting: Enjoy the Beach
My latest painting, Enjoy the Beach, continues with the thread of illuminated everyday sights in Southport and Fairfield, Connecticut.Continue reading “Fairfield Impressionist Painting: Enjoy the Beach”
Impressionist Landscapes in Fairfield, CT: Snowman at Sasco Beach
I’m excited to share with you my latest painting! Over the weekend, we had a quick sneak peek of spring: two sunny, 50°-60°F days! They were gorgeous and I tried to milk every minute outside I could, but I headed to the gym today with an outside temp of 17°F. So I’ll be painting winter scenes like this one for a while longer.Continue reading “Impressionist Landscapes in Fairfield, CT: Snowman at Sasco Beach”
Impressionist Landscapes in Fairfield County, Connecticut: “While the Kids are at School”
My latest painting is an impressionist landscape of a road nearby my home in Southport, Connecticut. I went looking for inspiration a few days after a snowstorm and saw these two women walking and chatting as they walked along the road next to the elementary school.Continue reading “Impressionist Landscapes in Fairfield County, Connecticut: “While the Kids are at School””
Our Family Feature
Last Monday, I opened our mailbox and found myself!