let's celebrate

Sometimes it's not so much about what we celebrate than that we celebrate. We make up reasons to celebrate to lift ourselves out of the rut, day-to-day life, the ordinary. Think yin and yang. Whether it's a birthday, a milestone, or a national holiday - they are all great reasons to celebrate.

We thrive on being with people, sharing food with people, talking with people, doing things with people. And that's what celebrations are about. Getting out of the office, out of bed, out of everyday life and making an effort. Of course it's more of an effort if the celebration is at your own house than if you are just visiting somewhere. But we all take turns between being invited and being hosts. And why not look at party prep time as playtime, using the reason for the celebration as a theme for food and decorations and even games. I know people who knock themselves out with party themes so it all matches, food included. That can be a lot of fun.

So here's to a happy 4th!

give your cellphone a break

It's not easy. When my kids are home, more often than not they lounge in their rooms and stare either into a laptop or their cellphone. I do remember that my teenage friends and I used to spend hours hogging the home phone and talking our heads off, even though we may have just seen each other in school. So kids need to communicate with their friends, and they do a lot of that now through their e-devices.

But beyond that we all rely too much on those devices for easy and brainless entertainment (such as those silly online tests on what color you would be if you were a color, or those old-people-dancing-I-can't believe-what-they-just-did You Tube videos and what not). Children imitate their parents and the surrounding culture. If you are stuck in your phone or on your laptop all the time, don't be surprised if your child does the same. (Young) children admire their parents and want to be like them. I read a lot when I'm not working (on a computer), and I prefer paper books to e-readers, especially since I read a lot of nonfiction and like to highlight what seems important.  But my kids get a lot of their information from the internet.

I often see adults walking through town, nose deep in their cellphone, bumping into people, even stumbling, blocking the outside world out. A few years ago I took my daughter to a library event on animals, which I followed with interest because they had live animals on hand. But most parents sat in the back, scrolling up and down their Facebook news feeds and emails.

I hate going to a restaurant with people who spend more time with their online friends than the friends sitting right across the table. The other night, when I took my daughter out for an end-of-school-year treat, I observed a mom with her two boys at a neighboring table. She only looked up from her phone when food was served. The rest of the time she spent in (yes, in seems to be the better term, not on) her cellphone instead of talking with her boys - sad. How would you feel if you looked at your mother for inspiration and she kept ignoring you, finding her cellphone more interesting than you?

People, wake up! Life is right here, it's not inside your little devices.   Why not spend flesh-and-blood instead of cybertime time with your friends? These devices are practical, perhaps even ingenious, but let's keep our priorities straight.

a bit of formality

The other day my son expressed his confusion over the seeming contradiction between my liberal convictions on the one hand, and my slight formality on the other. I like a bit of flourish, a bit of ritual, some social conventions, respect for the elderly.   And it's probably because of my European background. For example, I have a thing about going to school in flip flops, tank tops or spaghetti straps (which, I think, all belong to the beach), just like I wouldn't go to the office in such attire. I wouldn't go to the supermarket in flip flops, I don't walk around town in shorts, and I feel a bit underdressed and self-conscious when I walk through town in yoga pants on my way to a class. And I never wear sneakers.

I like a nicely set dinner table (with forks and knives in their proper places, and plates and glasses neatly aligned across from each other), and we dress up for special holidays like Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or Easter. I like a bit of ceremony when we have people over for dinner. I plan and choreograph the evening so things run smoothly, so people feel taken care of and don't have to go looking around for water or a fork, so the table looks nice, and so I also have some time to spend with our guests.

Almost every morning, save for some Sundays, I put lipstick and a bit of eye-make-up on and accessorize my outfit, even though I work from home. The other day my daughter said to me "you look a little tired." That was before I had put my eye make-up on, and that is exactly what I always used to say to my own mother when I'd see her without eye make-up.  I'd rather look awake and ready for the day.

Whether it's the European background or my particular family, we were taught proper table manners (using your cutlery from the outside in during a many-course meal, how to place fork and knife when finished vs. when you are still eating, which glass is for which beverage - white/red/water -, serving the oldest woman first and the youngest boy last, and such.

We were also taught proper social conventions by example (holding the door open for the person right behind you, writing thank-you notes for presents received - emailed is better than none -, rsvping on time so the host can plan ahead, and eating what's being served without argument or lengthy explanations of special dietary requirements - just leave aside what you don't want).

All these little conventions, which we could call formal or rigid or dusty, do have some meaning. I enjoy walking past someone nicely dressed at the supermarket, I appreciate when the person in front hands me the door instead of slamming it thoughtlessly into my face, I like being called "Mrs. Fitzsimmons" by a kindergartner instead of "Susanne." These little things become effortless, and let you be more aware of others.  They smooth over the rough edges of life, and make living with others more pleasant.  It's about being thoughtful and respectful, and shows others that you care.

it's not about the destination

There are various English versions of the destination verse, which goes something like this: "It's not about the destination, it's about the journey. " When I was a child many girls kept a Poesiealbum or poetry album.   We would give it to people we knew - family, classmates, teachers, acquaintances - and ask them to write something to remember them by. Some of the verses, as I reread them, mostly from classmates, are only memorable because of their utter sillyness, while others (mostly from teachers and family members) are true philosophical musings or really good life advice.

I found one in my album, by 19th century Austrian writer Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach, which is another version of the destination verse. Loosely translated it says: "Upon attaining your wishes you will definitely miss one thing: the  journey towards your wish."

If life were about the destination we would all rush to accomplish - what? Dying? So we can probably all agree that life is not about the destination. But what about all the other little things we do all day long? This morning my yoga class was a bit strenuous and I just wanted it to be over - until I caught myself in mid-stream. And then I recognized that I wasn't doing so badly, and that I was actually gaining strength.

It's not worth doing something if we rush right past it. Granted, there are things we enjoy doing, and there are things we don't enjoy doing; and it's good if you can arrange your life so you can do more things you do enjoy, than things you don't enjoy. But things are easier with less resistance, as I experienced this morning. And when it's over, it's really over. So, stay with the moment, with the experience, because none like it exactly will ever come back.

You may also want to reread an earlier post "why is 'Now' so important?"

enjoy your week-end, really

What is it always with this Thursday/Friday frenzy before a long week-end? The pace picks up frenetically, everyone seems to need something very urgently before close of business on Friday, nothing can wait until after the week-end - as if we were closing shop for the next three weeks.   But in light of the fact that we are back on Tuesday morning it's really quite absurd. Many things can wait, and how is a three-day week-end so different from the regular two-day week-end anyhow? In this country - and in Hong Kong, where I lived for a bit, as well - many people feel guilty about taking time off. Culturally, virtue is seen in working long hours (even if they are not all so productive), slaving (or looking as if) away for the bottom line, bowing to the Grand Poobah of profitability and money, and fearing job loss otherwise. Many European countries give between four and six weeks vacation (on top of the many religious holidays and sick leave), and their economies are doing just fine.

We need time off to clear our head, to sleep in, to get out of the métro-boulot-dodo routine (French for the never ending subway-work-sleep grind), pursue our hobbies, spend time with family and friends. Time off refreshes us, it balances us, it puts things into perspective. Lack of sleep and too much stress shorten our lifespan.  Without playtime life is dull and drudgery.

Time off is a necessity in order to perform optimally and creatively, it's not frivolous luxury. Enjoy your week-end and don't feel guilty about your time off.

my favorite word is "sure"

That's what my friend said a few days ago. And she is right.  Can you imagine how easy your life became if everyone of your requests was answered with "sure?"

Imagine you asked your son to clean up his room and put away his clothes, and he replied "sure."

Imagine you asked your coworker to help you figure out some computer problem that has been bugging you for days, and she answered "sure."

Imagine you called the plumber to fix your leaky faucet and asked him whether he could come tonight at five, and he said "sure."

Imagine you asked your boss for a reasonable and well-earned raise, and she simply said "sure."

Imagine you asked a friend to help you move a heavy item over the week-end, and he said "sure."

Yesterday afternoon I was relaxing with the newspaper. I had about fifteen minutes before I needed to get dinner going in time to leave for an evening meeting. Just then my daughter asked for help pulling her spring clothes down, and putting her winter clothes up and away, something we had been wanting to do for a few days.   I grumbled something, I didn't want to be bothered, I stuck my head back into the paper, then I remembered that little magical word "sure,".................and went up to help her.  She was so happy and surprised and said "I thought you weren't gonna help me?"

By saying "sure" you say "yes" to life.

rushing to yoga

My life is pretty busy and I love my Slow Yoga time. It brings me right back down into myself, relaxes me, grounds me (which means regaining a healthy perspective on things), all the while keeping me limber and flexible. So why did I not go to yoga yesterday?

I was rushing around the whole day, getting things done, driving a half hour to pick up my vacuum cleaner that needed servicing, coming back (another 1/2 hour), getting something else done, helping with homework, doing some actual work work in between, picking some emergency toilet paper up at the supermarket - and always thinking in the back of my mind that I would make that 6:15 yoga class (after missing the 12PM class). We weren't going to eat until after 8 so we could all have dinner together. But returning from yoga around 7:45 with no dinner prep work done beforehand would have meant either rushing again or eating really late.

"Enough," I said, after finally being back home at 5:50. I would have had to leave my purchases sprawled on the counter, changed, rushed back out to make that class, rushed back and hurried to get dinner on the table. What was the point of rushing to make that yoga class in order to relax, just to have to hurry again to get dinner on the table?  So I didn't go.

Instead, I slowed down with a sigh of relief,  sat down with hubby for a glass of wine while chatting about the events of the day, then prepared dinner in peace and quiet. Sometimes all that rushing is just not worth it.

the soft glow of candles

I love candles. The more the merrier. Lit, of course. There is something mystical about a live flame - the flickering, the color range from blue, to white, to yellow, then orange, and the changing length of the flame, depending on the wick and how it burns.   Candle watching can be quite mesmerizing and meditative.   But what I think I like most about candlelight is the soft and uneven glow it lends to the surrounding space. It adds more depth than the even and flat light of a lamp. "Mom, can I blow the candles out." Before children are allowed to light them they want to blow them out.   Poof. Then they graduate to being allowed to light them with adult supervision. Perhaps you remember how special it was when your child was allowed to light a candle for the first time?

Candles are another one of those quality-of-life things that we should use more often. Outdoor candlelight in the summer feels different from indoor candlelight in the winter. Candlelight adds magic to so many different settings. I like to light a candle when I take a bath.   It makes me feel pampered. Sometimes I light a candle on my desk when I work, it gives it a special feel, it seems to soften the energy. When I light candles on the table for a birthday breakfast, a celebratory dinner or a dinner party, it not only makes it look festive, it also sends the message "it's special."

Christmastime is a time for red candles - on the tree (yes, we use real candles in special German holders that screw directly into the tree trunk), on our Advent wreath, and throughout the house.   A special table setting will look great with colored tapers to match the decor. Most other times I like the elegant glow of off-white candles.

Flickering candles on the picnic table on a hot summer night make the world stop in its tracks. I like the soft glow of candles in weighted paper bags along a walkway, on some rocks in the garden or on a beach. Two summers ago in Italy, when their grandma was not well, the children lit a candle for her in every church we visited.   At Halloween tea lights in little and big hollowed-out and carved pumpkins, inside and outside, announce the beginning of the dark season that candles help to brighten so beautifully.  I like lots of tea lights placed in clusters or rows. It's like tulips - one looks skimpy, lots make a statement. And no birthday table in our house is complete without that special single lit birthday candle and a bouquet of seasonal flowers.

how's your memory?

A few days ago I attended a brief seminar on memory improvement. Two interesting points, in common with Holistic Living, came up.

The first one was presented in the context of techniques for remembering names when meeting new people. Matthew Goerke, the speaker and an expert in memory development, explained what meditation teachers are always stressing, that the untrained mind is like a wild horse. It goes wherever it wants to - not necessarily where you or I want it to go. Without intent and focus a person's name basically goes into one ear and out your other because your mind is meanwhile chattering about your to-do list for the afternoon or that you'd really like a tuna fish sandwich for lunch. Key is to take control of your mind, to be in the Here and Now, to tune into the person you are meeting, to repeat her name with focus and intent while shaking hands. Chances are you'll remember her name again when your paths cross in the supermarket aisle, instead of remembering the face vaguely, but neither where you met nor her name.

The other point had to do with the beliefs we subconsciously hold about ourselves and how, in this case, they impact your memory.  You might say or think "I have a hard time remembering things," or "My memory is getting worse the older I get." This type of running internal commentary is like a mantra and becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy if repeated often enough.  Instead, begin to repeat how you'd actually like to be, even if you have to fake it before you truly believe it (our minds can't distinguish between the two, so "fake it 'til you make it" is good advice).  Better to keep saying to yourself and others "I have great memory," or "My memory is getting better every day."  If you repeat it often enough this, too, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

No need for ginkgo biloba. Instead, be mindful and focused (tell your mind where you want it, keep the reins tight), and think and speak what you do want (a great memory in this case), not what you don't want or fear (such as "I keep forgetting things," or "I can never remember names").

When Matthew Goerke asked us at the seminar "How's your memory?" we learned that our answer should be "Great."

do not ask your children

“Do not ask your children

to strive for extraordinary lives.

Such striving may seem admirable,

but it is the way of foolishness.

Help them instead to find the wonder

and the marvel of an ordinary life.

Show them the joy of tasting

tomatoes, apples and pears.

Show them how to cry

when pets and people die.

Show them the infinite pleasure

in the touch of a hand.

And make the ordinary come alive for them.

The extraordinary will take care of itself.”

                                                                                    William Martin