tongue and groove

Creative Is a Verb

about a week ago, i received in the mail a copy of Patti Digh's new book, Creative Is a Verb. i couldn't wait to start reading it. i immediately took it into our private little yard, laid down on the wicker love seat in the warm afternoon sun, and turned myself over to it. it's a wonderful follow-up to her previous book, Life Is a Verb. and yet Creative Is a Verb is entirely its own book. it's  not a series in the sense that one must read them in order (although if you haven't read Life Is a Verb, i encourage you to do so).

Creative Is a Verb, like its predecessor, is filled with beautiful, original artwork created by Patti's readers--whether they're readers of her fiercely smart, award-winning blog, 37 Days, or her reflections and humorous insights at Twitter and Facebook. 

a few days ago, as i was standing in the shower, i suddenly thought of that famous line by poet Mary Oliver, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" in that moment, i wasn't consciously thinking about Creative Is a Verb, even though i'd been reading and savoring it over the past week. but it occurs to me now that Patti's new book is very much about our one precious life. as she says early in the book, "This book is about reclaiming a creative spirit in your fantastic, unique life. It's about living your whole entire life as art..." yet it's not a book about technique. she offers exercises at the end of each chapter, but there are no rules for working with the book. do the exercises or don't, it's up to you.

as much as Creative Is a Verb is about honoring each of our own unique, precious lives, it's also a book that will help us get past being too precious. Patti reminds us to stop getting so hung up on having everything just so before we begin. do you have a patch of dirt and a stick? then you can write, you can draw. or maybe, as Patti did in the book, i'll let one of our cultural icons sum it up:

"I plan to write more books whenever I can find the appropriate writing attire

and color-coordinated pen." ~Miss Piggy

Creative Is a Verb is brimming with good ideas, AHA! moments, thoughtful explorations on the notions of creativity, lovely original artwork from readers around the world and four beautiful poems by Maya Stein, someone whose work i've read and admired for years.

there's also one poem by yours truly. earlier tonight, i stumbled onto the site for the United Kingdom's National Poetry Day which is celebrated on the first Thursday in October. it turns out that the theme for their day this year is "home," which happens to be the name of the poem i have in Creative Is a Verb.

i encourage you to buy Patti's book. ask your local library to stock it. it's smart, humorous, thoughtful and full of juicy magic. (i have no vested interest in Patti's book sales--i just think you'll enjoy it.)

thank you for continuing to read here and being part of my community. may we all find home. xo

for Emma

recently my friend Patti Digh asked her readers/followers/fans what advice they might give to her daughter Emma as she graduates from high school next month. Patti has called this project "consider this" and she plans to publish one post per day from the submissions for the 37 days leading up to Emma's graduation. the first post on that project appears today...and i'm deeply honored that it's a poem i wrote for Emma. you can still be a part of this project (details are at the top of the linked post). Patti will be publishing a free e-book with all of the submissions after Emma's graduation.

for Emma

37 days left...

Patti Digh reminded us via Facebook this morning that as of today, there are only 37 days left in 2009.  she asked, "what will you do with those 37 days?"  it's a question she's asked of her readers/friends/followers/fans before.  in fact, i believe she asked it last year...because i went to my (sadly neglected) poetry blog and found that i'd written this on July 29, 2008...in answer to one of those times.  reading this just now, i got weepy...because 2009 kicked me in the *ss.  hard.  as i was standing in the shower this morning, i felt for the first time in a long time like maybe i was bouncing back a bit. there was nothing specific happening in that moment to trigger that thought...other than this thought:  my god, i was depressed.  sometimes you can only feel just how far down you've sunk once your toes have touched bottom and you've found a way to push off to start rising back up.  

so this is for Patti, 'cause lord knows i'm thankful for her...for her wisdom and kindness and friendship and the light she shines forth in this world.  even though it was written 16 months ago, i suppose there's not a whole lot i'd change if i had written this today.  (again with the "shoulds'...which will only make sense if you read the previous post.)  ;)  Happy Thanksgiving.  xo

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if i had a mere 37 days left to live i'd immediately start counting.  but not counting down to the end but up.  to that next place, that unimaginable plane we tend to fear yet might actually be a place full of joy and light and incomprehensible beauty.  a place of reunion and ease and lightness once we've shed the weight of our shoulds.  i wouldn’t waste one more moment in a thankless job i hate.  i’d hop a plane to New York, buy the sexiest pair of boots i could find and walk the streets of Manhattan like i owned the joint.  then i’d rent a car and drive cross-country because i always meant to do that.  i’d make sure to hit Montana ‘cause i’ve always wanted to go there.  i’d head south to the desert because even though i’m from redwood country, my heart lives in the desert Southwest.  i’d sleep in a tent and look up at the stars.  i’d nap in a hammock and eat tons of pie.  i’d float down a river on an inner tube and make every meal a picnic.  i’d write poetry when i felt like it and take lots of pictures.  i’d spend as much time as possible outside reveling in the miracle of nature.  i’d eat what i wanted when i wanted.  i’d never have to talk on the phone if i didn’t feel like it.  i wouldn’t worry about connecting online—i’d focus instead on connecting with myself.  i wouldn’t do one single thing i didn’t want to do.  that’s how I’d spend the first 30 days.  on day 31, i’d have Jeffrey fly in to be with me.  i’d spend the last week rejoicing in the love we share.  i’d hold him and kiss him and make love with him and look deeply into his eyes and thank him for all that we’ve been through.  at the end of day 36, I’d learn that there’d been a mistake—that in fact there was nothing wrong with me after all.  i’d spend day 37 simultaneously crying and laughing…stunned that it took looking death in the face to teach me how to live.

Life Is a Verb - Blog Tour '08

 
I'm thrilled and honored to be the host today for Patti Digh's Blog Tour '08 for her fabulous new book, Life Is a Verb - How to Wake Up, Be Mindful and Live Intentionally.  The tour kicked off last week and I encourage you to check Patti's blog for links to the Blog Tour stops.  And be sure and check Patti's bookstore tour schedule which kicks off tomorrow in Seattle--you might be lucky enough to have her coming to your town!  Want to invite Patti to your town to speak to your group...or be interviewed on your radio show or podcast...or maybe have her speak to your next blackberry picking party?!  ;)  More info here. 

This is a book chock-full of essays that will remind you of who you are. Each essay is followed not just by Action items, but also Movement steps.  Because, really, isn't it all about moving forward?   And in an extraordinary move, Patti illustrated her book with artwork created by readers of her blog, 37 Days.  It's a truly gorgeous book.  You'll see what I mean once you've held a copy in your hands. 

Since the U.S. has been immersed in a--at times very divisive--Presidential election for nearly two years, I asked Patti if she would be willing to answer a few interview questions about how we could apply some of the Life Is a Verb principles as a nation.  Patti joked on Twitter last week that she planned to run for President in 2012 (hey, maybe she wasn't joking!) and began wondering who might be in her cabinet.  I suggested that it would be wonderful if she created a Dept. of Inclusion.  I hereby nominate Patti for that position in the next administration.  If anyone could help us with a national conversation to bridge our differences, I have no doubt that Patti is that person. 

Here then is my interview with her...

*  There's a wonderful poem by Marybeth Fidler called "The Bumble Bee" on page 138...an excerpt...

i see where i want to go
and in my panic
i forget to look for the open window

In your work, what's one area where you see people of all stripes forgetting to look for the open window?

I really love that poem. I heard Marybeth read it at a leadership retreat over a decade ago and the image was so strong that it has stayed with me ever since. I knew I wanted to ask her permission to use it in the book the moment I started writing.

I know there are times when we make life more difficult than it need be. I do that on an almost daily basis. But I’ll answer your question from a slightly different perspective:

I think, actually, that sometimes we don’t forget to look for the open window at all. I think we sometimes know it’s there, and we ignore it.

Because sometimes hitting frenetically against the glass is more valued than the ease with which a bee can go through an open window. If people are watching, hitting that glass is more impressive, isn’t it? Sometimes, in fact, I believe we get an exaggerated sense of self importance by articulating repeatedly a litany of just how many panes of glass we are hitting against – and how hard. And for how long.

Our frenetic workplaces, particularly in this country, are—in large part—an expression of our need to be important. As if being alive weren’t important enough.

Marybeth used to say to me, “do less, be more,” and I can fully see the wisdom of that phrase now. What if I don’t need to be indispensable at work—what then? Where would I get my sense of importance then? These seem like Big Questions we should be asking ourselves from time to time. Perhaps the next time we see a bee, we should all stop and ponder those questions, and particularly the question about our own self-importance.

* In your "Let It Be A Barn" essay, you remind us that, "Your reality is different from mine."  If you were brought into a roomful of Republican and Democratic strategists, what's the first exercise you'd give them to start bridging the differences in their perceptions?

I would love the opportunity—just in case any Republican and Democratic strategists happen to be reading this.

There are many concepts I’d ask them to ponder—the first of which is to recalibrate politics as an infinite rather than a finite game. That is, as a game to learn, and not a game to win.

I would ask them to consider something that every young actor knows—that it is impossible to play two intentions on stage at the same time. They each need to name their primary intention. Is it to win, or is it to learn and in learning, help our country learn?

I would ask them to consider the dangers of simplifying the identity of the “Other’ to a single point. I would offer them the understanding that “angel/devil” dualisms always restrict movement and wisdom.  Dualisms are always reductive, not generative.

I would ask them to remain locked in a room together until they could—from the very basis of their shared humanity—answer a single question: “On what one thing could we NEVER agree?” Seems simple, but it’s not. Not if the cameras are turned off. The chances are—if they did that as humans, not politicians—they would find that there is nothing on which, at some core level, they couldn’t agree.

We must seek and share our common humanity, but that’s not what elections foster. Rather, they focus on demonizing the other. A finite game, a reductive one.

* "Squeeze in Next to Someone, Arm-to-Arm" is one of my favorite essays in the book.  In what ways do you see Americans misunderstanding others' helpfulness?

I love that story, too.

Ours is such a litigious society, isn’t it? Even the person who tries to save a life faces being sued. So very different from this tale from India. We are lost to the simple kindnesses.

I believe it might be because we are always judging other people’s outsides from our insides. Seeing rationale and meaning from our own perspective and not asking for the perspective of the other. At least, that’s part of it.

Perhaps we are too busy to help, too busy to be fully human anymore. Perhaps we resist the intrusion of strangers, feeling that their helpfulness implies a judgment of some sort. Perhaps we believe that others more qualified will step in. Perhaps we’ve lost the ability to have honest human dialogue that would allow us to ask, “May I help?” and to answer either “yes” or “no.”

Perhaps we don’t believe that we are actually in service to every other human being, but I believe that we are.

We are insular in this country and to a large, sad degree, we’ve lost the simple, human ability to “hand one another along,” as novelist and essayist Walker Percy suggests we must. I wonder what it would take to do that each day, just a little.

*  If you could leave one of your essays in the Oval Office to be read by the next President on Inauguration Day, which one would it be?  And why?

Oh, my. Can I be there to read it to him or her in my best Billy Collins voice? (Smile) Speaking of which, please tell those strategists to get dear sweet Billy to pen a poem for Inauguration Day.

I believe I would have to pick an essay that describes what we must do in the spaces in between people, cultures, countries. I think it might be a simple tale like “Save face for someone else,” since Americans are not particularly good at the kind of cultural humility it takes to do that—it is a skill and a way of being in the world that I believe will be increasingly important for all of us, and particularly Americans, in the coming years.

Saving face means helping others retain their dignity—and that’s hard to do without more respect than our nation has shown for others we deem less human.

As George Santayana said, “Our dignity is not in what we do, but in what we understand.” We have much to learn from the rest of the world about what they understand.

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And a final note from Patti:  I’d like to close with a personal/public note to Marilyn who has been such an incredible support to me from the very beginning of 37days, the blog from which this book emerged. A small, rare set of readers started reading my long essays—far too long for blog posts!—in 2005, giving me such encouragement. My thanks, Marilyn, for being one of those few, though we have never met. I am privileged to know you, and to include two amazing poems of yours in Life is a Verb. 

catching up...

Sorry to have been neglecting my blog.  Life just got very busy the second half of August.  I'll see if I can catch you up on what I've been up to the past few weeks...

Halston and I headed north with my brother's family to my folks' place in Crescent City for Labor Day weekend to attend my step-niece, Heather's, wedding to her long-time love, Nate.  (They live in Reno.)  My two stepsisters and two stepbrothers were raised in Smith River, north of Crescent City and just south of the Oregon border.  Three of the four still live there.  Heather and Nate were married Sunday on family beach property just down the street from her mother's (my stepsister's) home in Smith River.  It was quite windy on Sunday, but even with the wind, it was a beautiful wedding.  They wanted a black & white wedding and nearly every guest accommodated them with their attire.  Heather's father abandoned her and her younger brother when they were pretty young, so she asked my Dad (her Grandpa, who she's always been close to) to walk her down the aisle.  One of her uncles (my stepbrother) collects and restores vintage cars, so he drove her to the wedding in a beautiful 1960 Corvette.  The reception was held at Ship Ashore, the Smith River resort my step-siblings own with their uncle.  The Corvette uncle surprised the couple with fireworks during the reception.  I've been to many, many weddings...and I can honestly say that this was one of my favorites.  They managed to beautifully merge formal traditions with a relaxed vibe.  Just perfect. 

The rehearsal dinner the night before was catered by one of Heather's cousins and her husband.  They're the caterers of choice in that area, and have a beautiful facility across from the beach where they host events.  We'll be back at the same facility in a few weeks for my father's 80th birthday bash.

Jeffrey couldn't make the wedding--he'd already been booked to play two blues festivals last weekend.  He played Saturday night in Eureka and then flew to Long Beach on Sunday to play one there.  We all arrived back home on Monday.  We stopped in Eureka on the way to Crescent City to have lunch with Jeffrey in Old Town Eureka.  Driving him back to his motel, my brother drove past the Carson Mansion, which houses the Ingomar Club.  It's a building that my brother and I used to always ooh and aah over as kids.  It's still pretty damn impressive to look at.  (The blues festival stage was about half a block from there.)  And because life is never dull with my brother, our trip north also included berry picking, stopping to look at elk and a traveling kitten they were taking to their friends in Crescent City.  She was adorable and I couldn't believe how mellow she was on the long ride.  The entire Flickr set is here.


I spent the weekend before last entertaining Jeffrey's sister, her husband and their two kids.  They were down from Portland for a 5-day visit.  Because I'd played tour guide for my sister-in-law and her husband a few months ago on their first-ever trip to San Francisco, she asked if we could take a day trip to S.F. again.  We spent a sunny Saturday there.  The Flickr set is here.

My niece Kayla turned 18 on August 19.  (She shares a birthday with Bill Clinton.)  Because that was her move-in date for her dorm at Chico State, we had our family birthday dinner the night before.  The poor kid had just spent about three hours in the dentist's chair.  She wore braces for eight years...and apparently her ortho really messed her up.  She has a new dentist now and he had just informed her that the braces needed to go back on for a year...and that was after he'd pulled two of her lower teeth.  She spent her birthday dinner feeling pretty damn miserable.  But I've spoken to her since then and it sounds like she really likes her dorm roommates and is having a good time in Chico.  The birthday dinner set (including some short video clips) is here.

The last three weekends have been:  Hannah's visit, Jeffrey's sister's visit and a trip out of town for a wedding.  In between all of that, I was busy at my job with enrollments and registration stuff, trying to tie up loose ends and spending two days training the sub who will be filling in temporarily until they hire someone.  My last day at work was actually very nice.  I was showered with cards and flowers and plants and gifts and well wishes.  It was an embarrassment of riches.  The librarian, who splits her time between two junior highs, came by on my last day to say she needed some help at the other site if I was interested.  So I'm temporarily helping out in the library three mornings a week at one of the other junior highs.  I started yesterday.

So you can see when people ask, "Do you know what you're going to do next?" all I can do is shake my head and say that I really haven't had a lot of time to think about it.  (I think some sleep is on the agenda first.)  But I will say this, I woke this morning feeling different.  It took me a few minutes to realize what it was--I didn't wake up seething with resentment.  I wish my former workplace well.  I'm just very relieved to be out of there.

Yesterday was the official publication of Patti Digh's book, Life Is A Verb.  I hope you'll mark your calendars for next Tuesday, September 9, when I'm part of Patti's blog book tour.  (And, p.s., a couple of my poems are in it.) 

hold love for others...with no agenda...

I said in the previous post I'd shoot some pictures of Halston and Hannah this past weekend...and I did.  We went to the park around the corner before dinner last night...

The Flickr set is here.  It includes a few photos of them opening some baby gifts that J and I gave Hannah to take home with her to Portland.  (I got some great stuff on sale--we were able to put together a nice big gift bag of goodies.)  Hannah and her stepdad head back to Portland this morning.  I'm sure Halston is sad to see her go.  (I'm using a sick leave day today so I can be home.  Just don't want him moping around the house alone while J and I are both at work.  I won't be paid for my stockpile of sick days, so might as well use a few.) 

I tweeted a link to the Flickr set on Twitter last night, and several Twitter pals sent sweet replies.  As I said in some of my replies back, all I can really do right now is just offer love and understanding--that I'm simply trying to surround them with non-judgmental care.  Because, truly, what purpose would it serve anyone to welcome that little girl into the world in a cloud of anger or judgment?  (Which, sadly, is how some are choosing to view the situation.)  It was lovely to meet Hannah's stepdad (very nice guy) and hear that we're all on the same page about this. 

This morning I read a passage in Patti's book (bottom of page 46) that seemed so appropriate:

How do we hold presence for others?  How do we hold love for others, with no agenda? (emphasis hers)  Who was able to hold presence for us as children, without asking us to perform to their standards?

Late last night, Halston and Hannah asked J and I if we have any suggestions for baby names. :)  They have a couple they're tossing around.  If you have any girl names you'd like to suggest, leave them in the comments and I'll pass them along.

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Patti pointed me to this yesterday:  someone quoted one of my poems in Patti's book in a post about what she'd read there.

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Need some inspiration to kick-start your week?  How about a 93-year-old actress and model (who didn't start acting until she was 65!) who does Pilates?  Oh yeah, she's gorgeous, too.  Meet Mimi Weddell and prepare to be knocked out...  :)

what would you do with YOUR 37 days?

As I mentioned in an earlier post, on July 27th, Patti began marking 37 days until her book's publication on September 2nd.  As part of that process, she's asked 37 Days readers to count with her by thinking about how we would spend our time if we only had 37 days left to live.  Send your submission to her via email at pattidigh (at) gmail (dot) com.  It can be a blog post or essay or photograph or video or poem...or whatever strikes your fancy.  (I do believe there's a 370-word limit on writing submissions though.)  Full details are here.

Mine is at Moojo Cafe here.

what about YOUR 37 days?

Has it only been a week since I posted here?  Feels like much, much longer.  I apologize for the lack of posting.  (I feel like most of what I do here in recent months is apologize...it's not you, it's me...)  I don't know what to say about what I'm dealing with at home and with (returning next month to) that job.  (It didn't help that there was a flurry of emails and calls with our PTA president this past weekend.  She's a lovely person and I enjoy working with her, but, oy, I so didn't want to be thinking about work.)   My emotional pendulum is swinging wildly...from simply enjoying the moments as they happen and reveling in us all being able to spend time together as a family (after not being able to do that for so many years)...to feeling trapped (financially) and overwhelmed and like I'm wearing a blindfold and flailing my arms about in my (self-induced) darkness feeling for the 'right' path.  (Oh, grasshopper, have you still not learned that there is no 'right' path?)  LEAP, GRASSHOPPER, LEAP!  (photo by Gregor Buir)

And as she always does (and as a good Synchronicity Fairy is wont to do), along comes Patti with a beautiful new challenge for us:  "What about your 37 days?  Tell me your story..." 

Starting Sunday, July 27th, Patti will begin a 37-day countdown to the September 2nd launch of her (what's surely to be a fantastic) book, Life Is a Verb:  37 Days to Wake Up, Be Mindful, and Live Intentionally.  And as part of that countdown, she's asking us what we would do if we only had 37 days left to live.  Submit your answer via an essay (370 word limit), blog post, photo, video, artwork...why, I'll bet even a poem would work.  ;)  Deadline for submissions is August 15th and details are on Patti's blog here.  Thirty-seven of the entries will be chosen to receive a personalized and signed copy of her book, and she'll feature some of them on her blog.  (There's more, but click over to Patti's to read about it.)  ;)

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Even though I haven't been posting here, I have written some poems over the past several days.  They're over at Moojo Cafe.

escape

We're quietly slipping away on a quickly planned getaway...back in a couple of days...

In the meantime, you might want to ponder what I believe might be the question of the year thus far...Patti asks:  "What's the pig in your panties?"

trust yourself

Today is the first day of my 35-day (but who's counting?!) summer vacation.  I slept until almost 7.  What decadence for someone who's head routinely wakes her at 3:30 am!  And yet I know why I tend to wake that early--it's because my soul is crying out for some ME time before I have to head off to a job where I have to leave ME behind. 

I had a really veg-ful evening yesterday.  Jeffrey left for a gig not long after I got home from work.  I watched/dozed to movies on TV, I checked in at Twitter a few times, I was just all-around lazy and it felt great.  By the time he got home I'd had a little nap and was wide awake.  Hung out with him for a bit and then we turned in about midnight.  He fell right asleep (having done 5 landscaping jobs and a 3-set gig yesterday)...but suddenly my head was going nuts.  I started remembering more 'bad' stuff from work over the past couple of days.  You know how sometimes someone will say something to you and in the moment it doesn't quite sink in...because you almost can't believe they said it to your face?  I was suddenly remembering some of those moments.  I knew I'd just torture myself (mentally and emotionally) if I stayed in bed, so I got up, logged on to Twitter and clicked over to Patti's stream--thinking maybe she had a new post up (and knowing she'd link to it at Twitter if she did).  Sure enough, she did.  And because she's my Synchronicity Fairy, it was exactly what I needed to read in that moment.  EXACTLY.  It's called "Trust Yourself" and I highly recommend it. ("Risk your significance.")  You can read it HERE.

Please don't think I'm promoting Patti's upcoming book because I have a couple of poems in it.  I'm promoting it because having not even read it, I know it's going to be fabulous.  How do I know this?  How could it not be?  It's PATTI...it's her essays...accompanied by original artwork (including some done by our beautiful Leah) and poetry created by her 37 Days readers.  If ever there was a book filled with communal blogger love, it's that one.  Info on how to preorder a copy is HERE.  As the title of that post says, "Not a self-help book, but a soul-help book."  And who doesn't need that?

The first thing I did this morning after rising (even before making coffee) was to re-read Alex's manifesto that I linked to in yesterday's post.  If you didn't have a chance to read it, I encourage you to--can't imagine it will make you feel anything but inspired.  So HERE IT IS again.