Z is for Zena

This probably isn't how she'd spell her name (even if she could), but this is Zena phonetically. Zena is a cat, an aging cat, that I lived with during the famous ice storm. Zena was transplanted from her birth place in Seattle to Tulsa a few years ago and has never completely thrived here. In the summer, the bugs and fleas attacked her and left her little ears with scars she'll never be rid of. She never liked the heat and quickly developed a preference for those cool spots under a house and most recently The Basement. For the past 6 months or so, Zena has been referred to as The Basement Dweller at my sister's house. She would come upstairs, peer into the kitchen from the glass-paned door, and quickly retreat. Her food magically appeared at the bottom of the stairs and her litter magically disappeared. She was a recluse and seemed quite content with her life. Then came the ice storm.
Two more people moved into the house. Boxes of Christmas decorations were carried up from the basement and stacked in the kitchen waiting for a day warm enough to buy a Christmas tree. There was a lot of laughter and goings-on in the kitchen. Zena became curious and finally ventured upstairs, climbed up on top of the Christmas boxes, and made herself quite comfortable on top of the Christmas stockings. She was there every day, going to The Basement only for her litter needs and sometimes to eat in privacy.

So, why all this about Zena? It makes me think about how easy it is for me to become detached, comfortable in my singularity, not reaching out. And then how quickly I can respond to a laugh, a surprise, a little bit of giving. Now that the ice has melted, the extra people are gone and the Christmas decorations are on the tree, I wonder if Zena will go back to The Basement. I don't think I will.

Y is for Yippee! The power is on!

We'll be saying "Remember the ice storm in 07" for a long time. It affected so many people here in Tulsa -- even the ones who didn't lose power (like my sister) who graciously changed their routines to accommodate the displaced. How lucky we were to have her here. After 10 days of no electricity, I was pretty choked up when I drove down my street last night and saw all the porch lights on. My energy (no pun) seemed to miraculously return and I buzzed around moving in all the junk I somehow couldn't live without for those days. Ah. The comfort of our routines.

You always read about people coming together in times of crisis, and they do. Hearts get bigger and more open. Things ignored and taken for granted rise to the top of the list. Beauty continues and in every sense is even more important. In the midst of trees falling with a sound like gunshots, there's that red berry encased in ice that makes you pause and notice it. People create order out of their mayhem. In the sadness of losing those big tree limbs, there's a tiny bit of comfort to making them small and manageable. Fallen trees line the streets, cut and stacked so neatly.

And today the sun shines.

X is for Xcite

Come on, X is a hard one and the question of "What excites me (you)?" has been loitering back there in the alleys of my mind lately. This happens when people start asking me about what I want to do when I retire. Have I thought about an encore career? I have a hard time coming up with something I'm excited about. I mean there are things I enjoy, like cooking, my art projects, family, friends, all the usual suspects, but I don't know that I've allowed myself the time to be passionate about something. I've concentrated more on the challenge of fitting everything in. Maybe my encore will be to allow my passion to develop.

I took the enneagram test yesterday at my daughter's suggestion and I was surprised at how hard it was to answer some of the questions. They want you to answer according to how you have behaved historically -- I think part of the difficulty comes from having lived this long -- I've been through so many phases or changes, it's hard to think about some of them. It's an interesting process, though. The test is $10 and takes about 30 minutes.

W is for Way Outa My League

In the previous entry, I said I felt good just to have submitted something for the challenge cards. Today when I checked out more of the entries, I felt so artistically immature, so not ready for the big world. I'm still glad I went through the process but you know how you can feel sort of embarrassed even when no one sees what you're looking at? When you wish you were better, or smarter, or more something? It's not being ashamed, it's just working to accept the difference of where you are and where you want to be.

I still like that quote (previous entry) though and still think it's pertinent.

V is for Victory

I've been wondering what I'd use for V. Today "victory" seems right. Not because I won something but because I finished something. Maybe not in as grand a style as I would have liked, but because I tried to set aside so much personal judging.

This project was inspired by an essay by Patti Digh - - and an invitation for artists to create cards for possible use in an upcoming book of her essays.

It's one thing to do a greeting card or an envelope for a friend, but this sort of thing had me undone. Especially when I looked at the cards that others were creating and actually posting (!) ahead of time. My first thought was "I am so out of my league." But, you know what? I continued and just submitting something felt good. Here are three attempts -- there were more but they never made prime time.















The quote that kept me going actually came from Patti's blog too:

"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening, that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is, nor how valuable it is, nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel only. You do not even have to believe in yourself or your work. You have to keep yourself open and aware directly to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open..." -Martha Graham

I want to read that everyday.

U is for Unsolved

One thing I enjoy is solving problems, finding a solution, a new approach, etc., so when I have a problem I can't solve, it drives me crazy. That's what's happening with my eyes. For over two months now, my eyes have been reacting to something and no one can figure out what it is. Today I look like a white faced, red-eyed raccoon. My skin looks pasty compared to the birthmark red circles that surround my eyes. It's all I can do to keep from putting some concealer on them. And when I pass a mirror -- oh my. And in a day or so (I hope) it'll be almost back to normal again. At least that's been the pattern. I started keeping a detailed food diary yesterday and hope a pattern will appear. Forget the internet medical doctors. They can scare the bejeezas out of you. According to some of the descriptions, this could be one of several multisyllabic illnesses and none of them are good.

So much for this. I just want to get past this alphabet thing.

T is for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving week. Usually this is a week of people coming home, people going home, or just people coming and going. This year it's different. No one's coming and I'm not going. At first, I thought it was going to be sort of sad -- just two people on thanksgiving day, but right now, the idea isn't bothering me. It feels good to have the prospect of wondering how I'll fill my day rather than having every minute planned and wondering how I'm going to fit in the rest of my list. It's been a crazy 60+ days for me. The good news is I didn't crater.

In this Thanksgiving week, I will definitely count my blessings. More and more, I'm aware of the magic in my life. It's good to have the time to actually breathe it in.

Here's to a bountiful Thanksgiving week.

S is for Santa Barbara

I had several thoughts about S-es -- like Sixty (my next birthday), Sarah (my beautiful daughter), Sister, Soul, Sacred, and so on. I finally settled on Santa Barbara "a lovely spot indeed on the coast by the sea," primarily because we just returned from a wedding there and the name has been constantly in front of me. It's a nice place to visit, as they say. Maybe if you're Oprah or Ellen you can live there, but the me-s of the world, not so.

Tom's daughter (another S -- Shannon) chose that location for her wedding and it was a beautiful spot for a wedding. Romantic and photogenic. I've been working on a project to commemorate the day. Here's a piece of it --



The funny thing is this page has a lot of depth to it up close. There are effects that I will never be able to duplicate, even if I want to. The reason being that this page was born of mistakes, one after another. It was repainted, blotted, swabbed, washed, fanned, cursed and then given one more chance.

I think there's a lesson in that.