Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Last night there were only three of us at our writing group and we were like schoolgirls playing hooky.  We chatted with no structure and barely recovered enough at the end to critique the two submissions we had.  The loosey goosey experience felt refreshing.  We weren't down to business we were out to lunch.  We're all a bit giddy at the end of the school year and summer coming along soon.  Sometimes aimlessness is right speech, when the feeling is universal and we're overtired and really, there were so few of us it seemed like the rules just went right out the window.
For me personally it was perfect, because all afternoon I'd been in a workshop with no break and the leader barreling us through the material in an unnatural way.  We were all frustrated a bit at the lack of time for questions and the truncating of interesting subjects.  Then I rushed home for dinner, which my husband picked up to save time and walked briskly over to the writing group.  I wanted to unwind and luckily the other two women did as well.  Nothing was said.  We just rambled to our hearts' content until the facilitator made us focus on the two pieces at the end.  I went home happy.  We are so attuned that we slipped into our conversational babbling as if in written agreement.  We were a babbling brook and the sound was lovely.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

My husband wants to discuss the voting manual.  He has already voted by mail, but I'm doing it the oldfashioned way:  trudging up the hill to the next street to stand in line at a garage.  I don't really need him to talk, but I'll give him his say anyway.  It can't hurt to listen.  Many, many strangers have been calling to persuade me to vote their way, or at least give money.  I don't pick up.  I'll give some money later, but I refuse to be all twisted in knots right now.  I want to enjoy my summer.  I'm used to voting my own way, and don't require any nudges.  I respect that these people who call are trying to help their candidates, and I appreciate their effort, but I also know if I give one dime over the phone I will be besieged with calls for months if not years.  I deserve not to be swarmed.
The cacaphony is not condusive to measured thinking.  The panic is almost contagious.  I try to remain calm in an ocean of turbulence, and see the cycles as they come and go.  I'm a drop in the ocean, but I insist my drop be, well, dropped.  I will vote, not with a rush of hope or euphoria, but with dogged determination.  The way I always vote.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Our younger kids and their partners went with me to hear their father sing Britten's War Requiem yesterday afternoon, and it was a powerful and poignant blend of music and poetry to express the anguish of war and the human cost.  I had tears rolling down my face by the end.  Poetry can express what prose cannot and music can go beyond either to tug the body and heart.  I was so pleased the kids seemed as touched as I was, and it became a kind of bonding experience.  Afterward, we went to a noisy, busy restaurant we all love and patiently (well, with margaritas) waited for a table.  We were naturally exuberant, perhaps because we'd faced death and were glorying in our present lives.  I felt that gratitude intensely:  we are alive on the plant right now and our time is brief and we are fortunate to not be in a war as are so many on this planet at this moment.  We were giddy with joy.
My husband was so pleased by us coming to hear his chorus, the orchestras and another chorus.  It was an easy gift, but his appreciation was palpable.  He thanked us, but we should have thanked him, because the afternoon and evening was transformed by music and poetry.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I spent a long time on the phone yesterday.  I wish I saw friends more in person, but that becomes more difficult as our lives get busy and we retire away from each other and traveling is something none of us is doing as often.  I checked in with my one friend about our grandchildren, and we caught up on what's happening with her granddaughter and my grandson, who are two weeks apart.  Then I had a really long discussion with my long time friend about grandchildren, our families, and some decisions I was in the process of making.  I felt comforted when I hung up, and the dogs love it when I talk on the phone.  They settle in around me and snooze. 
At the very least, I'm a good sleeping machine for the dogs.  But what also happens is I metaphorically balance myself by touching base with friends.  Partly it's because I hear way I say and know more what I think, and partly it's because I do really listen and absorb advice.  I am often too intense about stuff that comes up, and it helps when another tells me the world will continue on and whatever I do is not of major consequence.  So I must get a bit big headed, and need just the pin prick to get me right sized. 
I spent the rest of the evening watching a movie on TV that was aimed at thirty somethings, and I had that anthropological feeling I was researching what their lives are like.  The film was all about dating, and since I know nothing of that scene and never did, it made me sympathetic to the challenges and humiliations of people wanting to settle down but with the wrong people, or people searching for a life partner and coming up empty.  It's a rough world out there in the bars and clubs, and online; just brutal at times.  I was grateful my own kids have found wonderful life partners and seem to have achieved stability, family and love. 

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I've just had a conversation on the phone with a friend who is babysitting her granddaughter who is two weeks older than my grandson.  We love to talk baby talk.  She's been a huge support for me and we have shared tips and advice.  I hope to visit her sometime soon.  Going through being a grandparent requires a village and I have mine.  I'd love a guidebook, because the rules change every generation and I also need to feel my way around each of my kids to see what their style and needs are.  They are holding the reins, and I'm the horse pulling the cart.
Grandparenthood isn't automatic.  Yes, the love is.  I bonded instantly with them as I did with my kids.  But the relationship must be fostered and developed and I look to my friends and their experiences to feel my way around what to do.  The rewards are great, but there are challenges as well.  It's a process and a revelation.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

Today I had a nice encounter with a salesperson at a frame shop who was helpful and made my search for a frame for a woodblock print I'd purchased on my recent trip quick and successful.  She took the time to show me the sale frames, found mats for me and I ended up with a combo that makes my $15 print look impressive.  I thanked her profusely and told her she'd saved me at least half and hour by helping.  I felt terrific as I left.
I love the stranger connection.  And it proves every time that though technically trivial, such connections alter the tone of the day and leave both parties feeling good about themselves.  We both made an effort.  Nothing to sneeze at, that.
Later I saw my therapist, and laying out several recent distressing events didn't transform them, but made me realize all the positive events in my life.  They receded in drama and emotional turmoil.  Because she has now witnessed the struggle I'm going through, trite as it seems, I don't feel alone.  I feel strengthened and more able to handle these little adversities. 
My foster granddaughter had a solo with her chorus for the song "The Rainbow Connection" from the Muppets Movie, and its as if today was humming along with that theme.  When there was an opportunity, I reached for connectivity and found a rainbow.

Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I talked to our younger daughter about a work decision she has to make this week for next year, and I was honored that she wanted to discuss it with me.  I thought about it before we talked and felt like I gave her my best advice, but after I had this niggling feeling that perhaps I'd suggested the wrong path.  I become nervous when giving advice.  When I was younger I was more confident, but as I age I see how complicated and convoluted life is, and I possess no certainty.  What I do know is that attitude is more important in facing change, and that many paths might be interesting and rewarding.  And then there is surprise.  The monkey wrench in the works.  So part of me knows anything can happen, and rehearsing and preparing don't guarantee an outcome. 

I'm watching big changes in my daughter's life:  first her marriage, now a child on the way, a new home and a different job.  It's a lot.  But we will be here to support her, and my confidence is in her not me.  She's an amazing woman.