It's okay, Grandma.

Grandma likes to be comfortable, and gets cratchity if there's too much noise, or static over music, or especially two kinds of music. Sometimes, I need to withdraw from the fray for a while and knit.  Hi, my name is Liz, and I might be my own grandmother.

For example, here is my ideal bed. Sadly, currently only available in cat sizes. 

Or, I might be moderately highly sensitive (yes, both adjectives are required). HERE'S a quiz if you want to check yourself. As I was happily reading clickbait on the social network that impersonates the internet these days, an article about "highly sensitive people" floated by a couple weeks ago. I lunged for the worm, and the hook was set. Apparently, the primary book on the topic has been on my coffee table for years (but probably not since 1996, when it was published). I feel a little sheepish about not reading it sooner.

The book is The Highly Sensitive Person, by Elaine M. Aron, PhD. My husband picked it up a couple years(!) ago on a random book store trip. He says he read part of it, and it was "good". That's all the encouragement I need, as I will read anything in front of me. It was cereal boxes, back in the pre-internet days.

So, I read it, and it was very reassuring. I'm not prematurely elderly. There's a name for it. And it's okay to take the time and solitude I need to feel comfortable.

Dr. Aron has a very kind writing voice, and I liked that there was research and field experience to back her suggestions. The book is broken into sections, to assist with feeling comfortable in a general lifestyle, at work, in relationships, etc.

I will note some of the exercises in the book felt a little too woo woo for me. That's a lot of woo woo, if you've read me before. I'm quite willing to make a vision board or set an intention while de-cluttering a room. But I'm not very comfortable with visualizing myself as a fussy infant, and then having a conversation with myself (as myself now, with myself the infant) to find out what my needs are.  Yeah. That's not working for me, even though I tried.

I've always been puzzled about the introverted extrovert, or the extroverted shy person that I seem to be. This concept of a personality trait seems tie it together better. And not that it matters what you call it, but everyone wants to know that they belong, and this seems like a good solution for me and many of my friends. There's no longer a reason to refer to myself in the third person as "Grandma". I can just be my sensitive self.

No, really, what's it all about?

I haven't been around lately. I would love to say I was traveling, or on a yoga retreat or something, but I was staring at my smart phone.

All my little experiments are about learning to wobble. Finding whiz, get it? That's what it's all about. There's no destination, just speed and sometimes grace. Sure, it's a little frustrating, because you never get there. You just keep turning over rocks. So, what am I working on now? Sleep. Steps. Meditation. All of which I can monitor from my smart phone.

So we wobble on. In fact, let's learn to wobble.

Sleep Cycle is my favorite app, perhaps of all time. You use your phone, placed under your pillow, to measure your sleep quality. When you set an alarm, the app uses your measurements to wake you up at the shallowest portion of your sleep cycle with a catchy, calming, echo-y song. You then can review all the oddly lovely graphs of your sleep. I've only got a week of measurements, but I'm seeing that I really do use weekends to "catch up" and stress makes my sleep poor, where exercise improves it. Duh. And Oh!

Steps are on my mind again. The snow is melting (very very very slowly, but that's probably good for the ground and my basement humidity). It's time to go for some walks. Now that I'm motivated to be well rested, I'm amazed to discover that the daylight savings time light seems to be a good fit for getting up early (I know, it makes no sense). So maybe I can get some walks in before work even! And my activity tracker is still motivating me.

And the holy goblet of meditation, you wily nebulous goal. One of my newer apps, called Happier has a meditation program. (I would love the app so much more if they didn't constantly direct you to purchase one of their programs, but I am loving the Meditation one....) Sure, I thought, nothing else has worked (like pure force of will). Why not? And it's really good. The facilitator has removed quite a few of my mental barriers to why I "can't" seem to meditate. Turns out, I was doing okay. I just needed a mantra to focus on. But it's only a 7 day program, and I'm on day 5. What to do next?

Wobble on, I guess. Because really, I'm not trying to "save" time, or increase my earnings, or lose 20 pounds fast (although all those things sound good sometimes). I'm trying to do better, so I can love better.

Slow Growth

Liz and a tree, originally uploaded by wizzybit.

(I am fully aware that is a Joshua tree and not a Saguaro cactus. The metaphors that follow should still apply, however.)

So why am I doing this blog anyway? It started as a record and an outlet for my self-improvement ramblings. So many of my experiments either do not produce reportable findings or don't take off at all. But I think checking for growth is important. You stop growing, well, you stop.

And if you're a plant, you start dying? Granted, I am not a plant. But I might be a super-slow plant, like a Saguaro cactus (the slowest growing plant in the world, says Google).

One of the gardener mantras from my summer of manual labor was, "If it's brown, cut it down." (Weeds were "pull it low and pull it slow". There were some other ones, but they might have been about coffee or mulch....). And it seems like a good time to start pruning in my life. Pruning to produce fruit? Root pruning, in order to stay healthy in a small container? I think we're just cutting out the dead and crossing branches. You have to be careful with the slow-growing plants, because it will take them a while to recover from a poorly-planned cut.

So what I am cutting? I've been working on my definite no list. It's the list of things I never have to consider, unless I want to. It includes weeknight bar nights, boats, horror movies, and white pants. When it gets warmer, we'll try to think bigger.

But for now, I'm dropping the dead buds and storing water. Hang on.

Snow Smarts

Snow is the boss right now. Snows tells us where to be, when we're going to get there, how much activity is possible or necessary. Snow, frankly, is kind of a jerk.

So I am trying to find ways to appreciate the, uh, crystal clarity of snow. Snow wisdom, if you like. Because the snow is teaching me what I really like, and it's surprising.

Maybe I was just mopey last weekend. I'd had a stressful week at work, and every day it seemed like there was more snow. We are running out of places to put it around our driveway, which affects our mobility, and then when you do get the car on the road, the streets are narrow and slippery. The below-zero temperatures make it less carefree for being outside, and it's rare to find a sidewalk that has been cleared, let alone a long stretch of them for walking. So, I am definitely feeling housebound, and motivated to get out.

Except for when I'm not. There were multiple occasions last weekend when the struggle to get through the snow to the event seemed more than a minor annoyance, but a true barrier. Some of these were social events, yes. And I've always thought of myself as a very social person, happiest in a crowd. How could I miss the party, and yet be okay with it? This had never happened before.

But if I really think about it, it happens all the time, and has for all time. It used to drive my younger brother to tears because sometimes I just had to play by myself, in my room, with the door closed. It's not that I didn't enjoy playing with him, but that sometimes I knew, even as a child, that I needed to be by myself. Somehow, I've forgotten that, and packed the calendar with lots of lovely activities, but more loveliness than I can handle.

And even though I used to know this, I am still surprised by what a homebody I've turned into over the years. If you had told me 20 years ago I would want to stay home sometimes (anytime!), I would have told you that was impossible.

It suddenly occurred to me, snow is the lens! When accepting invitations, I need to remember, what if I had to dig the car out of a snowbank? Would I still want to go to this?

So, yes, snow is the boss. Snow is kind of jerk. But it makes it all crystal clear. 

Correspondence

Letter Carrier Collecting Mail, originally uploaded by Smithsonian Institution.

Just in time for my "I should write more email letters, like I used to" thoughts, Google has made it SCIENTIFICALLY possible to send messages to anyone on the Google world. Crazy scary, or crazy cool?


I also have a real letter to write, in response to a real letter. Like, on paper. With a pen. And maybe some sparkly stickers.

And, I need to write some letters that won't get sent. You know, that old trick. Get it off your chest, then burn it and cry or something. I think I spent all my teen years doing this.

I also know there are crazy pen pal hook-ups out there, but I might be too old for that. I want real correspondence, with the people that I know and love and want to communicate with. It's about connection.

I used to have multiple pen pals as a child from Sweden, Australia, England, California (I know, California is not a country, but it was a foreign land to me at the time). We happily chattered about school and favorite meals and friends, and with the girl from California whom I wrote to for more than 10 years, boyfriends and marriages.

And I don't do that anymore. I do see the irony, coming from someone who returns text messages hours later, but that doesn't mean I don't have something to say.

So here's to communication, readers. Let's get it out there, whatever way we know how. I'm going to try paper for a while. I re-discovered my storage bin of stationery and I have more than enough paper (and most likely, random ramblings) to entertain us all for the rest of the millennium. Who wants a letter? Use the magical Google plusness to send me your address.

Free Milk!

I just finished reading the Bloggesseseses' book and realizing how stupid and amazing it is that we can write books from the internet. Or are we writing books ON the internet? For the internet?

I guess it doesn't matter, because one of the more respectable occupations I've pined for over the years was "writer", and now I could say I am doing it. Oh sure, a big bound wad of paper for the coffee table would be impressive to more, but you can not deny that I have written this, and you are reading it. (Unless, I never get this thing out of draft mode, which is entirely possible.)

And it also stuns me to realize how many of the books I've read recently are blog-based. I got the Foodist for my Kindle, which wasn't really bright because I'd like to loan it to some people or have it in the kitchen. Oh well. I bought TWO copies of Humans of New York for Christmas gifts. I am now less dumb! and have the book to prove it.

But I am also aware that I am not writing books. (To wit - I'm nibbling through the decadent granola chocolate bacon bar that is Infinite Jest again. This is not anywhere close to that.) I've apparently cast myself as the cow, the cow that gives away free milk and doesn't need to purchased unless you're a foolish, greedy man who is scared of generosity.

Really, when I think about that analogy, I'm most angry with the cow-boycotting man, who will not appreciate the gifts he is receiving, but will continue to accept them without gratitude. The cow is just giving away milk, BECAUSE SHE MUST. She will explode if the milk is not expressed, and it would be quite painful. If you've sampled the milk, and you find it delicious, then pay for your milk, JERKFACE.

(By the way, I do realize that paying FOR the cow does not actually compensate the cow, but rather the other man, who owns the cow. And also, this is why I never want to hear this applied to a relationship EVER AGAIN. Unless you come from a culture that actually uses a dowry, please, stop. Milk is free and fun. It doesn't really apply to a business situation either if you mean to imply that the independent contractor cow is at fault for not receiving fees for her services, because the COW WORKS FOR SOMEONE ELSE. If you find a cow with a checking account, please let me know.)

But I haven't really learned many lessons either. I have pondered the difference between a blog that I could read for free and the book I must purchase and read in its entirety, and I'm not sure what the magic factor is. I'd like to remain open to paying for books from blogs I enjoy, because I like to think of myself as a nice person who pays for her milk. But on the other hand, there's so much good stuff out there!

And know that I'm certainly not asking you to pay me for anything. Unless you're like Penguin or St. Martin's Press or something... in which case, drop me a line. I could come up with some special dairy, just for you.

But it's a wonderful thing, isn't it, that there's so much to choose from? What blogs do you enjoy that should be books? What books have you read recently? 

Word of the year: Enough

You know how there's those people who are like, "I love Christmas!" or "Halloween is my favorite holiday!" Well, I'm the one that ADORES New Year's. Lists! Parties! Optimistic statements and wishes for future happiness! This is what makes me tick. 

In the past, I've done the whole inventory-of-past-disappointments with a detailed plan-for-future-success baloney. I've made lists of resolutions. I've narrowed the resolutions down to only 3 (or maybe 5). I've stopped calling them resolutions, so people stop laughing at my idealistic intentions. And really, I think I've succeeded most of the time, in that I still believe in trying to make it better. 

So this year, I'm trying microhabits, not resolutions. Easy to keep. Almost stupidly so, in fact. But hopefully, these tiny steps will make big things happen. Vague enough to be applicable in a lot of situations, but specific enough to move the ball forward. The framework is "enough". These are the little triangles in the corner of said frame:

1. Say hi to the "boss" every day (the boss being whoever runs the particular endeavor I'm trying to participate with). 

2. Say hi to the "family" every day (the family being my friends, colleagues, co-pilots, passersby, etc.)

3. Find one truth every day (the truth being beauty, or quiet, or something I need to say).

4. Pick up one piece of trash every day (trash being anything from actual trash to a mess that I've made in a relationship or whatever).

And this is part of the picture with which I hope to fill the frame:

26 books read

52 blog posts!!!

104 dances

206 hugs

345 pleasant dreams

365 trash bags (hopefully not literally....)

730 hellos