Learning The Life Skill Of Not to Panic

Learning to not panic is a lifetime practice.  Lost wallet...calm down. Lost card...calm down.  Can't find my taxes....start to panic. I have never had a good memory. You could say that my mind is weak.  Names fly out of my head faster than a NY minute. I have lost my car in large airport garages, underground three level Prudential Building in Boston parking, and shopping mall parking lots.

I have been a day dreamer as long as my memory can remember. I watched the birds and squirrels out side my school windows, forget my homework, did the wrong homework, and struggled with the reality of working hard in school.

Sooner or later, this daydreaming will cause Panic with a capital P. The panic used to enter my head and roll around until I was in a deep panic and sweat.

Did it help that I was extremely shy, introverted, and lacked self-confidence?  That was the icing on the cake. I panicked when I had to meet new people, old people, fat people , and any people.

The panic was real. The panic overwhelmed my personality and I slowly closed down who I was and where I was going. My mother saw this quite clearly. She pleaded with my father to get me help to cope with my panic. He was not as astute as she was and he said no to getting help for me. It was the late 50s and getting help was frowned on.

In high school, I gave my 12th grade presentation on a chapter of Homer's Iliad. The entire semester grade would be the result of this talk. I remember leaving the safety of my desk and went to the lectern in the front of the class. I started my talk. I remember as I read more and more, I was reading in a long tunnel that was quickly closing. I keep talking but I had to get closer and closer to my notes to see them. I knew I was in big trouble. But I went on to the end. The class bell rang and I ran out to the fresh air of the hall. After school, I went to see my english teacher. She was not shocked to see me. She asked my why I can to see her. The words slowly came out, and I explained what happened to me in her class during my presentation. When I finished, she looked me in the eye and said with a smile "My dear, you had stage fright. The next time you give a talk"...I interrupted her at the thought. I told her that there was never going to be a next time. She laughed. She said yes I would give another talk and yes, I would get stage fright again. But, it would not be as severe and each time, I stood in front of people and gave a talk, the stage fright would be less and less severe. She looked me deeply in my eyes, and said in the future, I would give a talk and realise that I had no stage fright.  She continued... "and you will say to yourself, "well Miss Teed was right."  Years later I gave a talk in front of hundred people and in my mind I  thanked Miss Teed for the greatest advice I ever got in school.

Classical Music, writing, and enjoying quiet time.

I do so enjoy my quiet time. I come to my desk, sit down and relax to classical music for inspiration.

I think alot lately about aging. I am 70 and I watch friends slow down, lose their memories, and ability to be active.

I have had a bad back and arthritis for more years than I like to admit. At times, these conditions limit my ability to walk, use my hands or sleep the entire night. I am now cautious of ice, snow, bad weather in general. It is such a gift to be retired and I can afford to spend time at my desk and enjoy my good company.

We still are active travelers in Europe, Canada, and around New England. Art heads our list of favorite stops along our journey. Food and beer are high up on our list also. Foody tours of Portland, Portsmouth and Western Mass. fondly float in my memories.

We still bird on Plum Island and watch our birds from our deck. What a delight to live in such a beautiful, calm area of the world.

I am not sure what I will be doing at 80. How will I fare the aging process to the next step of this journey.

One thing I know for sure. I will have get joy everyday looking at nature, hearing the quiet, and being a joy to be around.

2020 Year of Small Print and Loud Personality

Do you hear me now????

Little print because I bought a  cheap calendar and it leaves me very little space to doddle or make large notes to myself. Since I am extremely nearsighted and have worn glasses since I was 5 years old, I like to write large notes to myself. This  type of habit is hard to break. So, next year I will buy a pretty calendar with nice pictures and space for writing, drawing and daydreaming. 

The world is filled with small letters. The picture of the wonderful Pema Rock quote is a fine example of a lot of small type. 

The other reason I tend to write so large is my fat arthritic fingers don't work like they used to . It hurts less to be bold with large writing, then tightly hold my pen and do tiny writing. Next year new calendar, and this year complaining about cheap calendar. 

Bad Dreams ....

 A string of bad dream for the last month has gotten into my head and it won't relax. To wake up afraid, confused and anxious is not fun. To do this days in a row is exhausting. During the daytime, I enjoy art. flowers and music. At night time, as I close my eyes ...I journey to another dimension ....lost in unknown world, events, and decisions. I sit here at my desk at 6:30am quietly trying to shake off the last dream. Soon it will float away. Soon coffee will wake me up back to my old reality and world. I wonder why I dream these dreams of dark and cold places. Wonder and hope the next sleep will relax my tired body and mind.

Splendid Solitude of Sandy Point, PNWR

Walking around Parker River Wildlife Refuge on a winter day, I see textures, shapes,  and curves.
Every walk here is different. Different weather, animals, birds, sights, sightseers are keep my mind occupied with the changes of this quiet place. Once there was a sand dune, and now it is gone. The landscape is now flat, where once the small hills gave refuge to the piping plovers.
Nature can never bore me. It always surprises me with new colors, shapes and and creations.
Humans walking the beach collect items on their way. A shell, a piece of rope, glass, garbage, and driftwood. These finds are many times built into small castles, or shacks. In summer, these shacks become refuge from the sun and wind.Each visitor adds pieces during their stay. But, in winter these art displays are small and very compact. The cold winds keeps visitors  stay short and sweet.
Many visitors search for the sand dollars. These beautiful beauties are hard to find some days, and other days one could fill up a bucket with them.
In the summer, there are many casting fisherpeople. In the winter, lots of birdwatchers eager to see winter birds fishing in the tides.
The solitude of the beaches call for me to come back soon, and return to walk more of the splendor of its nature.