Small luxuries

Let’s start with massage: I made myself a promise at the start of 2018 to do better at taking care of myself—my physical and mental health—and I went and signed up for a membership at Hand & Stone (one of several large chains that offers monthly memberships—I picked this one because it was closest to my house). When I did it, I felt like I was being extravagant. Like, perhaps, I wasn’t worth it. Even though I knew for a fact that massage really helps with my fibromyalgia, and can lower my stress levels, thereby benefiting both the fibro and my rheumatoid arthritis.

I promised myself I’d just try it for six months and then see what I wanted to do . . . and here I am, something like 16 months later. Today I paid extra for a CBD oil massage and I swear I’ve never felt so relaxed. Even the usual massage helps, though—it reduces the number of adhesions I have (basically scar tissue on my muscle fascia) and helps to release many of the knots that develop pretty much everywhere. As a result, I can turn my head further to each side, stretch my arms over my head on occasion, and more. Some of these things have improved over time, month by month, as I go for massages regularly. And some of my symptoms have at least not gotten any worse.

One of the other differences between January of 2018 and today, though, has been a shift in my thinking. I understand that massage isn’t free. And while it’s not super expensive at about $60 per month, it’s definitely something that still counts as a luxury. Because Merriam-Webster defines luxury as a condition of abundance or great ease and comfort. To which I say HELL YEAH, a massage is a luxury. It is also, now, for me, not something I’m unworthy of; it has become instead one of my necessities. Because the age of 55, I have started to embrace the idea that I deserve to live with grace and ease.

Let me digress and back up for a minute: Over the years, I’ve been certain that I needed to work hard, and work a lot, and struggle. I needed to hustle, to prove myself, to try to keep up with others, to make a mark. And I suppose I partly did that — put myself through college and law school, had a job as a lawyer and a house and two kids and a dog and a cat. I did all the cooking and cleaning, all the mowing and landscaping, all the sewing of Halloween costumes, scrambling like a hamster in a wheel, and in the end, I got sick with one, and then two, autoimmune conditions.

I couldn’t work a full-time job anymore, so rather than do nothing, I embarked on a writing career. And there was a time when my network was amazing, you guys, and my blog was one of the top-read blogs in children’s literature. And then stuff happened (my now ex got cancer, and then got better, and then we eventually got divorced), and it all sort of slipped away when I wasn’t looking. Then I met my wonderful Morris and fell in love and started to pay more attention to energy—not just “how much energy do I have today?” but also to the idea of qi energy and feng shui and reiki and more, and started to see that there might be ways of living that were more “in flow.”

This is partly why I decided to purchase the local honey from Mystical Blossoms, a local herbology business run by sisters Jody and Michaline—it’s from local bees, raised in a sustainable manner, with lavender oil added to it, and reiki done during the process. This honey is admittedly more expensive than a similar sized jar of mass-produced honey of indistinct origin at the grocery store. I also require less than half the amount of this honey to sweeten my tea, and the taste is amazing. I get the added benefit of supporting a local, woman-owned business (and if you’ve been around here for a while, you know I love being able to support local businesses and woman-owned businesses, so this is dear to my heart), some delicious tea, and the added benefit of feeling like my afternoon cup of tea is a true luxury. (The mug was a gift from my daughter Sara, and was purchased by her from a woman-owned local-to-Charleston business at the Farmer’s Market, and I LOVE IT.)

And as for Global Entry . . . well, it costs $100. And I know that I don’t “need” it in order to travel home from other countries, though it does include TSA pre-check, so it doubles as a help for domestic travel as well. But my sweetheart and I have at least two trips planned in the next two years, and the idea of not having to stand in the customs line for close to an hour (as we did the last two times we re-entered the US) appeals strongly to me. Especially since air travel usually causes my joints to become super painful (something to do with the combo of RA and pressurized cabins), so long periods of standing immediately after deplaning can be debilitating. And as I said earlier, I’m working toward embracing the idea that I deserve to live with grace and ease.

And I believe that you deserve that, too.

This is 55

On Monday, I turned 55. There are days when I feel it, and days when I don’t. Most days I don’t feel my age—I don’t think about it at all, and I essentially exist out of time. And though I will always answer truthfully when asked my age (or round up — I know, it’s backwards), I usually feel somewhere in my late 30s. Birthdays and mirrors can therefore be a bit of a shock.

This year was an unusual birthday celebration, since I am back in South Carolina for at least another week, and therefore away from my sweetheart. I woke up to a birthday card he’d sent along with me (and another from my aunt, who came to offer respite care for me so I could get home last week for my own medical treatment). I woke up to a text from one of my best friends, and another from my daughter who is overseas in the Peace Corps. My husband sang “happy birthday” to me on the phone, and did a marvelous job in each of the four keys he chose for his rendition. My parents wished me a happy birthday with a card and a gift. I spoke by phone with my other daughter, heard by text from my brother , and got email photos of the best hand-made birthday card from my nieces and nephews. And there were scores of messages on FB and other social media.

All in all, it was a good day. And I realize I have posted about several good—even great—days lately. And I got to thinking that all this good news doesn’t give you a true idea of things.

Because, in fact, yesterday might have been okay, but it was not actually a great day.

I am, at heart, a homebody, and I have been away from home too long. I would be ever so much more chill about that if Morris was here with me, but of course he is home with our cat, teaching tai chi and qigong classes and largely fending for himself (though I did manage to cook three dishes for him while I was home for a couple days last week, so he’d have home-cooked food). I’ve been here in South Carolina for five weeks (so far), with only 2-1/2 days at home. Plus I was away from home for two weeks in late January/early February to visit other family in North Carolina. It’s been wearing. It’s been frustrating. It’s been lonely, even.

And I share this in hopes that you will realize that all the “wins” you’ve been seeing are not the whole of my story. Those wins are real, and are—in the case of having my cards and art in Cape May—quite literally a dream come true.

But there’s a lot that isn’t going well just now. I feel untethered. I miss my husband and my house and my cat. I miss my studio and my art supplies. I miss the ability to play music or watch what I want on TV, if that’s what I want to do. I miss cooking dinner. I miss my light-colored walls, miss being able to burn incense if I want, miss setting my own schedule each day. I mean, I set a schedule here, but it’s very much dictated by the demands of my father’s feeding tube.

So, yes, I’m excited to have artwork on display in the Monroe Township Public Library in Williamstown, NJ. That’s a big win! What I didn’t tell you is that I’ve had two recent instances where my work wasn’t accepted, one with a private entity and one with a state organization. And yes, I’m thrilled about having my work listed on Fine Art America, and represented in The Grand Galleria in Williamstown, and at Mystic Ginger Collective in Blackwood. But so far, I don’t believe anything of mine has sold at those locations. And yes yes yes, I am over the moon at having my greeting cards and artwork in Olde Pear Primitives in Cape May, but of course the store hasn’t opened yet, and also that niggling voice of “what if” keeps coming to whisper in my ear. I do the best I can to ignore it, of course, but still . . .tl; dr

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All of which is to say—and if you are still here and reading this, thank you—that I appreciate you being here, and want you to know that my life is just as messy as anyone else’s. Yes I’ve had wins, which have been on display, but there are a bunch of other losses along the way, both business-wise and on a personal level. So please know that if you are struggling, I see you. If you have been reading my public-facing stuff and thinking “wow, she’s got it so good”, this post is to remind you that public-facing stuff isn’t the full extent of any life. And that life is inherently messy. I know I’ve sometimes read posts by other people and felt a bit envious that they are succeeding, especially if it’s during a time when I feel like I’m . . . not.

But here’s the thing: I believe that we can all succeed. Yes, at the same time. I believe that life isn’t a competition. That we all deserve to feel safe and accepted and loved. That we all deserve to take whatever actions are necessary for us to achieve that. That your success does not mean that I have failed in some way, or am less-than (and that my successes don’t take away from or diminish yours in any way). I believe that we all deserve to be happy, and that we can choose happiness for ourselves, and then choose it yet again.

If you are a long-time reader here, you know I believe that we can choose to be happy. And you also know that I understand that we all have what I call fallow periods, where we aren’t necessarily getting a ton accomplished. In fact, I wrote a post about fallow times, and about how important self-care is during those time periods, and it was just what I needed to remind myself of today. And please know that part of what I’ve been doing (and you’ve been seeing) is me celebrating my wins, whether they are large or small. Because celebration goes with gratitude, and all of that raises your vibe or your energy and can lead to a happier life. Here’s my post from last year on “Six ways to celebrate the little things.” It’s me choosing abundance, something I strongly encourage you to do, even though (as I wrote here) an abundant life doesn’t mean things are always easy.

So this is me, raising my glass to you. Here’s to another trip around the sun, and to choosing happiness, self-care, celebration, and abundance.

Celebrating the Solstice

It’s been a busy week here. Of course, that’s largely because we had contractors in the house on Tuesday, finishing up some work in our hall bath, and I needed to spend time at the Post Office, mailing things to relatives and friends at a distance. And I’ve been busy working on a commission as well as taking a new art class and working on some new ideas.

This is from an 1851 book called “A primary astronomy”: isn’t it marvelous?

And, of course, the 21st was Solstice. The shortest day of the year for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere, the longest for those south of the equator. It’s lovely to me to think of welcoming the long dark of night on Solstice, and to know that we are slowly turning our way back into the Sun even as the temperatures become colder. It’s also good to light the candles or lights as a way of keeping the dark at a distance. Though with the beautiful now-full moon in the sky, there is quite a lot of light right now, even at night.

How about you? Do you celebrating the turning of the year? Maybe with some hot tea, hot chocolate, or something else you consider warming, like whiskey or wine? Do you head to the kitchen to make slow food like stew or soup or chili, or to bake things you might not bother with in sunnier months? Light a fire in the fireplace or wood stove? Do you cozy up with a cat and a lap blanket? Curl up with a good book? Pick up your knitting, quilting or other handiwork? All of these are excellent ways to honor and celebrate the season without venturing out into the cold or the wet.

Here in New Jersey, I’ve been celebrating the turning of the season with most of the things listed above, with the exception of fires (no fireplace) and quilting. And my knitting has been a bit limited by painful joints in both thumbs, compliments of my rheumatoid arthritis. But it’s meant pleasant days and nights for me lately. And it hasn’t escaped my notice that a lot of what I’m describing is related to the Danish notion of hygge, which I referenced in passing in a post I wrote last December. Expect to hear a bit more about it as we move into January.

Six ways to celebrate the little things

Ideas for big occasions, like birthdays, anniversaries, retirements, b’nai mitzvot, graduations, and baby showers (major life events) are super well-known and well-documents. Throw a party (expected or surprise). Give gifts to the celebrants, make a toast, send a greeting card (thoughtful is best). Go out to dinner with family or friends. Make a video honoring the person or people who are being honored. Set up a powerpoint with photos. Hire a DJ or a clown. Have a barbecue or pool party.

But I’m a bit more interested in how to celebrate smaller events. And even what counts as “smaller” is a matter of interpretation. A promotion at work, or getting a new job. Making your first sale in your new business. Usually these things are marked with cheers, going out to dinner, and/or having a celebratory drink.

What about those still smaller events? Meeting a deadline (even a self-imposed one); finishing a project — even if it’s an intermediate goal (like finishing writing a chapter in a manuscript); sending an email or letter that was difficult for you; actually going to the gym; doing that piece of adulting that you find difficult, whatever it might be.

Now that’s what I’m talking about.

It’s far more common for us all to just turn to the next thing on our list and push ahead without marking them at all. And at the end of the day, we feel tired and depleted. But there’s another way: a way where you take a few minutes to honor your accomplishment and celebrate it.

Here are six ways you can celebrate the small things:

1. Get yourself a cup of tea, a nice cup of coffee, a cup of cocoa, or a good piece of chocolate, and take a few minutes to savor whatever your treat might be.

2. Reward yourself with some self-care: take salt bath; take a short walk (preferably outside).

3. Schedule some self-care that involves others, like a massage, a haircut, etc.

4. Go see a movie or watch something you’ve been saving on Netflix.

5. Journal about it, so you have something in your gratitude journal for the day.

6. Buy yourself some flowers or some ice cream or a small cake on the way home.