“He’s got this dream about buying some land He’s gonna give up the booze and the one-night stands.” Gerry Rafferty
Dreams and visions. Dreams or visions. To me, a dream is ‘wouldn’t that be great?’ as distinguished from a vision, which is a goal with action steps to accomplish it. O la la… I used to say to my mom, “How hard can it be?” She usually just kept peeling potatoes for dinner or mixing the bread dough. I now understand she knew trying to correct a teen-ager would be counterproductive. Life would provide the lessons.
“You used to think it was so easy. You used to think it was so easy. But you’re trying, you’re trying now.”
My son recently reminded me of Gerry Rafferty’s great song, Baker Street. I had forgotten how much I loved it: Rafferty’s wisdom, insight, rhythm, and creativity.
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“And when you wake up, it’s a new morning. The sun is shining, it’s a new morning. And you’re going, you’re going home.”
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at Fort Casey State Park (c) MDessein
My vision: swim 9 miles by the end of October! Oui, je le ferai! as the French would say.
When I was in mid-Oregon recently, in the high desert, I discovered some of the plants there have such deep roots. When it goes over a hundred days without rain and is above 100F degrees, that makes sense. I was weeding an area there at my daughter’s family’s home when I decided to take out this ragweed type plant, that was covering a gorgeous volcanic rock. I tried to pull it up with my hands. Yeah, right! So I went and got a shovel. I dug and dug, all around it. Five minutes later, I got it out. The root turned out to be over a foot and a half long, very thick at the top.
Then I noticed all the sagebrush blown everywhere. No way was the wind going to get this ragweed up either.
How far? A few miles? Another state? Another continent?
Fascinating as we review our choices, isn’t it? When and where were we rooted deeply, then again, when and where were our roots slim and ready for transplanting? For me, there were times I did not understand what was going on around me, why people were doing what they were doing. Which way the winds were blowing.
Right now, I am firmly rooted, yet not deeply. Where will I be in five years? I don’t know. Yet I don’t lose any sleep over it. Learning to sense when my roots are deeply implanted and when they are not has helped me a great deal in the last few years. When to let go and move on has taken me a long time to understand and then give myself permission to do so.
My, oh my.
Thanks for reading. Merci beaucoup. Let me know about your roots~
Yup, my book, When I Was a Rock Star is on Amazon in paperback and ebook.
“Art is a lie that illuminates the truth.” This tidbit is attributed to Pablo Picasso, Jacques Cocteau, and Albert Camus, among others. Another interesting take on it, “Art is the lie that allows us to approach the truth.”
My interest was captured by this as I saw art as the truth, be it via Picasso, Georgia O’Keefe, Edward Curtis, Derek B. Miller, Jodi Picoult, Virginia Wolf, or Jackson Pollock. There is some aspect of truth, enlightenment, or expanded vision in art. It was not necessary for me to like the art, just see it and learn something.
As I have gotten older, and recognized that just because something is a documented fact, such as landing on the moon or the Holocaust, there are people who don’t believe those things happened.
In getting older, I have come to see more truths about myself. Yup. A recent lightbulb was “Yes, Mary, you are valuable and worthy.” Somewhere deeply embedded in my psyche was the belief I was not good enough. Wow.
A lesson learned that still makes me smile is “I tell the truth so I don’t have to remember what I said.” Perhaps I relate to that, as there were some big lessons for me with the choice of telling the truth or dodging it with half-truths, clouding the issue, or a flat-out lie in order to avoid a consequence for some action of mine.
Another ‘Yup.’ This really is an organ-grinder and yes, he has a real monkey on top of it. This was from my last trip to Paris, about ten years ago. What does this have to do with truth and art and lies? Reasonable question. Maybe because I think it is time for me to head to France again. My next book is a novel set in eastern France. Truth in the novel? Quite a bit. Art in the novel? Oh yeah!
Indeed, it is the end of December. Blueberries have been out of season for months here in the Northwest. Yet they are on sale at the local supermarket. The label says they’re from Peru and Chile. Again the question and thought arise: How has the world changed so much in the last decade? I will spare you my theories about that, I am working on clarity and not blaming!
Successes this year? Getting healthier, being more patient with my pup, who is now 2, helping my family, scads of work done on my home, walking regularly. And getting my book completed and published! Up on Amazon, so now the ongoing marketing.
Dmitri Matheny, my book, and I at the Anacortes Library in October.
A piece of clarity recently delivered was how the book, my pup, and the myriad of issues with my house have distracted me from my music. A couple of recent gigs and one coming up have brought back that missing element to my life. And it feels good to have it back, a void that I had not noticed until it said, “Hey, no practice, no gigs! No practice and your playing sucks!” Oh yeah, and I forget stuff! There is a richness and a being present when I play music, even practicing scales.
Practicing gratitude daily has also become part of my life. My opportunities, my freedom, my view of Admiralty Inlet, having a carport, my pup, caring and supportive people in my life, my adult children’s stability and families, my return to lap swimming. Oh yeah, and blueberries in winter.
All the best to you in 2023, it portends to be an abundant, productive year. Thank you for reading.
Really? Sometimes the actual instance is more accurately described as “What was I thinking?” “If I had known this, I wouldn’t have ____.” “What? No one told me that.” “If only I had _____ first.”
My son was telling his beloved partner about his mom’s adventures – listing how I had lived in Italy, walked on the Great Wall in China, gone to Chichen Itza, graduated from college at age 46, performed at scads of open mics, done a weekly radio show for years, and worked with incarcerated teens.
Adventures? I hadn’t thought of it that way, yet he was right.
When my remarkable daughter, super son-in-law, and I were celebrating my daughter’s successful surgery at a Mexican restaurant, I ordered the cactus salad as I had never heard of such a thing. I didn’t like it.
“Mom, you always do that – try new things and half the time you don’t like them.”
I started to dispute that, then realized she was right. I had not seen that about myself. I realized I like to try new things, yet then saw I don’t want to miss out on anything.
As you can see, I am getting to the synopsis of my life: nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Wonder pup, Lyric
I have a five month old puppy asleep at my feet, his name is Lyric. Hopefully, he will sleep for a while longer. I had NO idea the constant vigilance, consistency, and patience required with a puppy. At this point, you can imagine I have revisited the first paragraph questions several times in the last 3 weeks since Lyric came to live with me. He is a sweet, smart and patient soul. Thank goodness.
Ten months ago, I had enough of where I was living, so I did a ton of work, spent so much more money than I anticipated, sold my condo, and moved to where my heart called me: near the ocean. Yee gods and little fishes. Courage? Yup. Risk? Oh yeah.
I didn’t think about it in those terms until I found these rocks. My dear and wondrous harp teacher, Harper Tasche, had a bowl of engraved rocks at his wedding some years back, inviting all attendees to take one or two, which I did. I had long since put them away and found them as I was packing and sorting in the prep for my huge move.
The many challenges of this move have been intimidating. The unexpected issues have been overwhelming. The list of expenses has grown. The extent of needed repairs and unmaintained items seems endless. Yet, I followed my pursuant heart. As I have done so often in my life, even without having the words for it. (Did I mention sleeping on the floor of the Luxembourg airport one night in November while waiting for a flight, and the next night being locked outside and huddling up on the cold pavement until the airport reopened in the morning?)
All righty then, Lyric and I just got back from a walk on the beach, he ran zoomies in and out of the waves, I picked up a couple agates, and listened to the waves as they foamed up on the sand.
