It’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. The year is 5784. Back in 5734, in my teens, I worried about my clothes. Was I going to wear my new wool dress, or was the warm September day going to deem it irrelevant? I knew it was going to be a long day of prayer followed by a huge family meal. I went to Synagogue, but I did not feel at home in the dressy world of the fancy Schul. I felt more at home in the down-to-earth synagogue of my friends. But members paid dues, and there was no seat for me in their sanctuary.
Over the years I’ve moved away from observing in a house of worship. It can be a deeply meaningful experience for many, but I prefer to pray and meditate in private. Nonetheless, I do wish my Jewish friends & family, friends or family of other beliefs, acquaintances, and readers, a year filled with freedom from suffering. I wish you peace. I hope you enjoy a sweet New Year.
Self-Care Tips:
Enjoy the sweetness of honey to remind you of the sweetness in life. Tradition has us dipping slices of apple in honey, but feel free to create your own sweet reminder.
Try releasing something that’s been hard to let go of. It can be an item, or it can be an attitude. This will create new space for some peace of mind.
What does freedom from suffering look like to you? Like me, does that mean inserting more kindness and forgiveness for myself and others? Or does it mean taking an action that will allow for more ease? Don’t suffer in making a choice, just choose the best course for you and see if it relieves suffering.
When I was growing up summer was always book ended by the academic year’s completion in June and a new school year following Labor Day. In between were hot days at camp, or at home in the backyard under the sprinkler, with regular trips to Hidden Lake or the Haddontown Swim Club for substantial wet reprieve from the beating sun.
Here we are at this 2023 summer’s finale on this Labor Day weekend. The air is cooler as if a declaration that summer is at its end. In my teen and preteen years I would have been working at my father’s shoe store ringing up saddle shoes for the cheerleaders, parochial oxfords for local children attending Catholic schools, and Buster Browns for the public elementary school crowd.
There was anticipation in the air. We went to Korvettes or Grants to load up on school supplies, including Lego-sized sharpeners for our number 2 pencils. Figuring out what to wear on the first day was a pressing matter after first grade. Oh, how I loved my plaid wool skirt, with red fringe and a large gold-plated safety pin as an adornment. It was worn with a Danskin ribbed turtleneck, and red tights that never stayed up, causing me to waddle home at the end of that first day. I didn’t care. I loved that 60s fashion trend.
Now in my 60s, I appreciate those memories, and miss the clear delineation of seasons as signified by the school year. Time now is not marked by classes and tests. The year is of my making. Though I appreciate the freedom that allows, I do wax nostalgic for the endless summers and the structure of school in session.
AsI let go of this summer and welcome Autumn in all its glory, I hope you, too, can enjoy sweet memories while relishing the transformative Fall season.
Self-Care Tips:
Give yourself a break. If you have a “should” for this weekend or week, pause to see if it must get done, or whether you can put the “should” on pause and do something restful and/or fun instead.
Learn a new word, and when possible, use it. I can recommend “WordDaily.com. However, there are a good number of vocabulary apps and sites. This week featured the word “Disembogue,” meaning a river or stream flowing into the sea or a larger river.
Delete unwanted or unused app or apps from your phone. Or you can unsubscribe from mailing-lists you find annoying. Letting go of the junk emails, and ignored apps can feel like a reset.
Growing up my mother and her mother were sticklers for good manners. I made a point of saying please and thank you. I was afraid they would view me as rude, and I didn’t want that moniker. My grandmother would point out other children who might have been louder than us, or publicly whiny, and she’d use those children as cautionary tails of behavior we were to stringently avoid.
I appreciate good manners. Things can be pleasurably orderly when people stick to the rules, when the rules make sense for all. And I am always grateful for good manners. Yesterday, when I once again rode Park Avenue for Summer Streets, I made a point of thanking the police and the Department of Transportation volunteers and temp employees for being there. I was so grateful and happy to share that gratitude. All but one smiled back, and they were nice exchanges along the beautiful ride.
I was grateful I started out early so that the roads weren’t crowded. I was grateful for the cool morning air, a rarity in August. I had filled my tires so my ride was smooth. And to those that I thanked I may have seemed nice. But lurking underneath the gratitude and manners was a highly judgmental, cranky older woman. For the day I had become an architype. I was mad that some cyclists were in the right lanes, while some runners were in the left lanes. There was clear signage. Had I not been a shaky rider, I could imagine myself raising a fist each and every time I noted an interloper. I also wasn’t pleased when motor bikes vroomed down the supposedly gas-free streets.
In hindsight, I think these things scared me. I’m a tentative cyclist. I like empty roads without ruts. Smooth riding feels safer to me. If I give myself grace, I can now see that my righteous anger was a defense of my fears. And perhaps my fright isn’t specific to my bike ride. Maybe it’s global warming anxiety. Or a world in which people act out their fury in arbitrary ways. Or fear of an unknown future. Whatever the case I will do my best to ease my fears while living fully. I’ll continue to have good manners, a multigenerational practice. And I’ll check myself with care when my anger, judgment, and cantankerous nature peak out.
Self-Care Tips:
When angry, check to see if the strong emotion is protecting a more vulnerable part of you. If so, see if you can soothe yourself making room and a safe space for your frailer nature.
Challenge yourself in small ways by doing things that feels doable even if you’re a little bit afraid. It can be as small as a public bicycle ride in a busy city, stating a preference when you’re usually agreeable, or stepping out in a way right for you
Try reading or watching a genre that is new or different for you. I came to appreciate graphic novels, even if it’s not my go to. See if you might come to understand what others see in another genre.
I set out to go to The Brooklyn Museum to see the Africa Fashion exhibit. I had intended to see it twice before but got waylaid, so my determination to get there yesterday was fierce. My plan was to slowly jog in Prospect Park getting out at the arch and walking the few blocks to the museum. Once I made it to Prospect Park at an unfamiliar entrance, I opened up Maps on my iPhone and set off.
I had slung a string backpack over my shoulder with my knee braces for the run as well as an umbrella for the unpredictable weather. After securing my knees in place with the braces, I left the bench and turned back to the Maps app. I was curious. Though not so familiar with Brooklyn, I would have thought I should go right on the drive rather than the left the app instructed me to take. With a momentary pull of doubt, I started off on my slow jog, sun unexpectedly shining, bearing left on the path towards the drive.
In just over a mile I was instructed to leave the park. I was surprised I had been so close when the app indicated that I was miles away. When I exited, I was nowhere near anything familiar, but I ended my run and continued on my journey walking to the museum. Ninety minutes later, past a huge cemetery, on the edge of Prospect Heights, then into Fort Greene, ending in Gowanus, right by the newly constructed business area by the Gowanus Canal. This was nowhere near the Brooklyn Museum. Perhaps there was a Brooklyn Museum section of the Design Within Reach store that was where the app stated was my destination. Ah, the limits of technology.
I enjoyed seeing the new construction and the warehouse spaces that were a contemporary take on a Brooklyn aesthetic. There were places to shop, and places to eat. Young business people came and went, coffee in hand, trying to finish out their work week. By the time I sat in an industrial style courtyard there, I wasn’t sure if I should just head home, or if I should circle back and view the exhibit.
Hot, sweaty, and tired, I trudged to the closest subway station, still uncertain whether I was returning to Manhattan or finally seeing the month-old fashion show on display. In the end I transferred to the IRT 2 train and got off in front of the museum. I was disheveled yet determined. I showed my ticket and made it in.
It was less crowded than expected. Good for me, as I could take my time and enjoy the beauty of the craftsmanship and the artistry. I was not disappointed. It spoke of history, joy, and cultural pride with all 54 African countries represented in one or more ways. And, though my tour through Brooklyn was two hours more than expected, it is true of this weekend, that all’s well that ends well.
Self-Care Tips:
The next time you get lost, rather than spend your time trying to get back on track (unless someone needs you to be somewhere on time), look to see what is around you and take in the unexpected surroundings.
If you’re in or around Brooklyn, take a look at the Africa Fashion exhibit. It is inspired.
Try something new. It could be listening to a new artist, trying a food or dish you normally don’t eat. It could be meeting someone new, reading something not familiar to you. Whatever it is, see what you learn about the subject, and/or about yourself.
I left my passport at the hotel two and half miles from Reykjavik. I was leaving for JFK the next day. We had had a magnificent trip, and my passport was in the safe where I left it along with U.S. dollars I wasn’t going to spend in Iceland. Our driver, an adventure tour guide in his own right, was going to drop off some guests and pick up passengers to bring back to the capitol city the next morning. He would be happy to bring back my passport and drive us to the airport. The magnificent experience continued.
I next called the hotel. They got back to me to let me know they had secured my passport and money and it was in an envelope at the front desk waiting for our driver. This was all done with ease. The Icelandic vibe was “no problem.” It seemed inherent to them to be kind and considerate. They did not communicate any extra effort, nor did they indicate I was putting them out in any way. I was beyond relieved.
Surprisingly, I also didn’t berate myself for my forgetfulness. Not that long ago I would have been so hard on myself for not being uber aware of everything. This time, though, my mistake led to a greater appreciation of the kindness of others. To be the fortunate recipient of thoughtfulness was another gift of the trip. Not only did we enjoy natural wonders, but we also took pleasure in naturally wonderful people. It was good fortune, indeed.
Self-Care Tips:
See if there is an easy way to give to another. Offer your seat on public transportation, open the door for a stranger, pay for someone else’s coffee, or create your own thoughtful act. Be part of an enduring act of kindness.
Let someone know how much you appreciate their kindness. Whether you mention something having witness a kind act, are in touch with someone from the past who was good to you, or you give a warm thank you in the moment, your appreciation perpetuates kindness at large.
Identify aspects of nature you most enjoy. If you’re able to visit, great. If not, perhaps you can find items or scents that elicit your enjoyment. It can be sea water, flowers, cut grass, or mountain air. Whatever your pleasure, breath in the satisfying aroma.
Wow! I just went out to walk Lucy. It sure is cold out there. A good portion of the country is very cold. New York City is no exception this weekend. Just taking Lucy out for a short walk means bundling up for a solid five minutes to make sure the least amount of skin is exposed to the frigid air.
Although I had insulated gloves with added glove liners, my fingers would not get warm. Add to that the couple of times I had to take those sub-par gloves off to pay the brave vendors at the farmer’s market, or to give Lucy a treat. Not my favorite moments this windy day.
The thing about the cold is that it really highlights our priorities. As much as I prefer not going out at all, happy to move to music inside, I do want to support the farms who service us year-round. And Lucy, whom I adore, is not likely to be able to endure a day inside. This is her weather as a Tibetan Terrier. She doesn’t want a doggie jacket, she just wants to feel the wind on her face and the cold air on her hairy body. She has hair rather than fur.
I curse under my breath when she gives me her usual signs that it’s time to go out. Though she waits for me patiently as I don layer after layer until I’m ready to face the elements. Thankfully I have a bevvy of face masks that I wear happily knowing that my nose and lower face are covered from the elements. Grateful for my protection from the cold.
It’s unbelievable I was strolling on the beach a week ago. Now, miles to the north that recent memory feels like a long time ago. Weather is a constant reminder of the transient nature of life here on earth.
Self-Care Tips:
Find the coziest clothes to wear. The cold can feel so uncomfortable. When the fabric’s surface gently soothes our skin, it can add an extra benefit aside from simply keeping us warm.
Dance inside. Even if it’s for one song. Enjoy the freeing experience while keeping you actively warm.
If you have to go out, walk in the sun. It’s a good reminder that even when we deem the weather to be bad, there are no absolutes. It can be beautifully sunny and still gratingly cold.
Today I turn 63. In my 20s and 30s I wanted a lot of celebrating. By 40, after I started my present career as a psychotherapist, low key became my preferred option. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted recognition. Sometimes, I say with some embarrassment, I demanded recognition. But smaller became better for me. Today I took myself to the Bronx to walk among the August flowers at the New York Botanical Gardens.
Going in the morning was key. I could walk for a good while without seeing anyone else. The day was hot, but there are so many shaded spots that the sun’s early rays didn’t overheat me. A couple of hours of simple pleasure was a wonderful gift. But it’s not the only gift.
While social media is often scorned for the propensity of many users to err on the side of negativity, that was not my experience today. The outpouring of birthday wishes is a testament to the warmth in the precious hearts of those with whom I’m acquainted. I am filled with gratitude. The abundance of good will on social media platforms has the power to transform. The well wishes took a simple day and layered it with kindness and care. My heart is full. Thank you.
Self-Care Tips:
If you have a chance to enjoy time in nature, seize the opportunity. The beauty and majesty of gardens, woods, sea, desert, and mountains can soothe our souls.
Take in the positive posts when on social media. It will move you and/or bring a smile.
Look up Don MacMillan’s comedy. He is very funny. We went to Stafford Elementary School together. He was smart and funny then. He’s only gotten better since those early years in Cherry Hill. https://www.youtube.com/user/donmcmillancomedy
My short bob is all over the place. I remember a time my mother would claim, “We have to tame your hair.” I still hear you, Mom, but I am wearing it untamed today. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it was a deeply satisfying morning, but I’m feeling a bit untamed myself. Today is one of three City Streets in which Park Avenue is open to cyclists, runners and pedestrians. I took out my low bicycle and headed west to Park Avenue at 6:45 for a 7 a.m. start. I trudged up a small hill, understanding this was the only practice I’d get before riding on the northern hills of Park Avenue.
My helmet was on, my fanny pack in place. My curls sprouting from said helmet. I have been inspired by Jennifer Weiner’s long-distance rides, though this was not nearly as intrepid. I took off, surprisingly less judgmental about runners on the left where bicycles were directed to go. The slopes, which seem less of an incline when walking, felt particularly high when seated on my bicycle. I silently chanted from The Little Engine That Could, a childhood favorite, “I think I can, I know I can,” while trudging up the hills. It felt like one minor accomplishment after another enjoying my seven-mile ride.
I dropped my bike off and Lucy and I went off to the local farmer’s market. I had passed by on my way home while they were setting up, though when I returned the lines were long. I waited patiently. While I meditate to have patience, and I work on having patience, long lines and my precarious patience are not always a good match. Today, though, I easily had patience. Even when a woman claimed to have a spot in line in front of me, though I had never seen her before, I just let it be. Clearly getting to the register first mattered in some way I couldn’t understand.
When I got home I made gazpacho. I followed a simple recipe with the vegetable I procured from various farmers, and enjoyed it for a non-traditional, late breakfast. I had forgotten how much I love it. And, if that weren’t enough, the weather is beyond splendid. It’s cool with a breeze, something more akin to May than August. But I’ll take it. Lucy seems happy with it, too. She wasn’t clamoring to come back home as she often is in the sticky humidity.
All in all, it was a great morning. I’m grateful for days like today. This week was strenuous. A lot of tough emotions in and around me. This unexpected break has been a gift. Perhaps a nap today? Why not?
Self-Care Tips:
Stand with your feet apart and stretch out your arms so that your fingers are pulled out to either side. Take up space. Affirm your place on this earth.
Challenge yourself to climb a metaphorical or actual hill. What would have you enjoy a feeling of accomplishment? Can you take a step to get it done? O do you have the time and energy to complete it? Once done, acknowledge yourself for what you’ve undertaken.
Take a short summer vacation with a Jennifer Weiner book. Her latest is: The Summer Place. I’ve enjoyed her stories and books since Good in Bed in 2001.
Heat waves are oppressive. I’m walking slowly, drinking more water, and commiserating with everyone else who is melting in this humid weather. I have always preferred hot temperatures to cold, but sometimes it’s just too hot. As a child I’d ride my Schwinn to the Haddontowne Swim Club and cool down swimming and playing in the chlorinated water. Today, I can ride my bike, but I’m going to opt for the indoor version in my air-conditioned apartment, going nowhere, and enjoying the solitude.
In heat like we’ve seen I think less is better. Less activity, lighter meals, simple plans. I have a lot of writing ahead of me this weekend. It makes it easier knowing that I would probably be uncomfortable outside. So, I’ll hunker down, laptop securely placed on my lap, and a cushion to lean upon. Simple, though perhaps not easy. Nonetheless, happy for the space and time to get it done in the cool air. At least for now.
Self-Care Tips:
Hydrate. Cool yourself off with water or a cold beverage. I suggest freezing a bottle of water (give it enough space on top) and then let it melt as you sip it through the day. The iced bottle can also cool you off on the back of your neck, your wrists or anywhere that needs it.
Play some Motown Summer music. Suggestions are: All Night Long, Lionel Richie; I Need Your Lovin’ Teena Marie; Inner City Blues, Marvin Gaye; Heatwave, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas
Learn a new word. It’s a simple task that can be enjoying. Of course, it’s educational. My new word today is: Emolument. I had never heard it before. It means a gift, whether cash, an item or a privilege, one receives because of one’s work title.
I’m sitting at the Quito airport in the wee hours of the morning. This past week I had about one hour total of internet. It was divine. I thought I had overcome my reliance on electronics, but I have been habituated. And, as much as I enjoyed the downtime, I also am happy to be on my way home to enjoy the benefits, while cursing the downside of being “connected.”
There was a lot to do in the Galapagos. By the time we returned to our lodge, I was way too exhausted to turn on my phone or Macbook. Had I known the amount of time I would be going on and off boats, let alone the climbing, hiking on volcanic rock, and learning about fauna and flora, I may have opted out of this trip. So glad I didn’t fully comprehend the rigor of this trip beforehand.
The Galapagos is spectacular. I am not able to describe the splendor of being so close to the unique wildlife, while learning about this ancient eco system. More than the countless breathtaking moments was the simple fact of pushing past my fears to be able to enjoy this trip of a lifetime. Actually I did not push past my fears. They were in close proximity throughout the days in the Galapagos and in the Andes. I heard them but did not heed them.
I am afraid of falling. Careful to watch for cracks in the sidewalk in the city, it felt harrowing to navigate the stony paths and uneven surfaces in the Galapagos Islands. Plus, I am not much of a sailor. Which is pretty much an understatement. I get seasick easily. I am naturally clumsy. When we had to get on and off small boats, I needed assistance. When getting from small boats to bigger vessels, I needed more assistance. I was embarrassed and grateful.
As the week went on, I had more and more gratitude. Needing to be helped, and having it come with no judgement and endless generosity was a gift I didn’t know I needed. Yet, this gift is invaluable. It’s come before, but there was some old belief that hadn’t allowed me to take in other’s kindnesses with grace. I will continue to work on that. But the nature of this trip meant I had no choice but to accept the kindness of travel buddies, crew members, naturalists, and strangers. I hope I came out of this trip a better human for having discovered so much about our planet and having learned something about myself.
Self-Care Tools:
Say “yes” when someone offers to help. See how that feels. And see if you expand your experience thanks to the assistance.
Schedule downtime from electronics. Give yourself something in that time you couldn’t have if you were online.
When you have fear, challenge yourself to feel your fear while simultaneously taking a step outside your comfort zone.
janetzinn 