Taking a Deeper Breath

Some have asked me why I use a multiple sign-off for these messages. It’s because I’m using all my most common names, ones that reflect my key relationships with others. Most people call me Nancie. My children call me Mom. I’m three-year-old Cedar’s Mimi, and all my other grandchildren call me Grandma. But those aren’t all the names for me. My husband usually calls me by a pet name that I like, and both my cousin and my friend Debbie often call me Nanc. Spouse, parent, grandparent, cousin, and friend. Those are some of my names. There are others: Stepmother. Mother-in-law. Sister. Aunt. Godmother. Neighbor. Acquaintance. Student. Alumna. Fan. Colleague. Congregant. Mentor. Mentee. Facilitator. Therapist. Volunteer. Novice. Practitioner. Lawyer. Retiree. Elder. I could go on. Don’t we all have multiple roles in our lives? Multiple names? I’m drawing a distinction here between the internal (identity; who am I?) and the external (roles and relationships; who am

I’ve had a few comments in response to yesterday’s message about anticipation. The invitation to recall childhood memories struck a chord for some. I’ve enjoyed hearing some of your reactions to looking back on special events of childhood. I expect that most of us have vivid memories of some birthday, holiday, or other big occasion when we were young. It makes sense, doesn’t it, that important days would stand out in our memory? But what of the ordinary days? Can you remember any of them? I can. I don’t remember anything about when, where, or how I got my hula hoop. But if I close my eyes, I am back on the sidewalk of 85th Avenue in the late afternoon sun of a summer day in 1959, twirling my hula hoop in my aqua pleated skort (yikes!). I can smell the trees. I can feel the air. I can hear the rattly sound of the whizzing hoop. It seems as if I can actually relive that moment. And there are so many others. The older I get, the more it seems as though I can telepo

Do you remember what it felt like to put a tooth under your pillow, or lay out your clothes for the first day of school, or go to bed the night before your birthday when you were a child? How did you feel on the morning of a school field trip? Or while you waited at the airport for a friend or family member to arrive for a visit? Anticipation can be a delicious feeling. My late mother-in-law used to tell me that she preferred to know about an upcoming visit from one of her children rather than be surprised by it, so that she could experience both the pleasure of looking forward to a visit and the joy of it when it occurred. For her, anticipation was truly half the fun. I have already written about the many benefits of staying in the moment, and my views on that haven’t changed. Mindfulness is a powerful way to reduce stress and improve our mental health; we all can use more serenity nowadays. But these are not ordinary times. While mindfulness is still one of my

Early in this series I did a piece about dancing with joy. Some will remember the photo of His Holiness the Dalai Lama at his 80th birthday party, dancing with Archbishop Desmond Tutu. It’s a delightful photo, and a great reminder that dancing is for everyone.  It’s been more than five weeks since then, and a lot has happened in our world and in our community. Now we are all at home, unless we are in an essential service, and some may be finding it harder to muster the energy or ambition to dance. If that describes you, then perhaps today’s videos will get you back up on your feet. Not only is dancing an easy way to get your heart pumping, which can lift mood. It can bring you into the moment, which can lower anxiety. And it can be a way to connect when we cannot be physically together. See what I mean?  Global Dance Seeing these dancers go all in, I’m reminded of a recent e-mail from my good buddy Ted, who sent this little message. You might have seen it before, but it’s one

If you’re ever tempted to despair in these hard days, let our children and young people remind us what energy, optimism, and the simple joy of living look like.They are our future, and we are blessed for that. Here are a couple of recent examples that may bring a lighter heart to you. Stjepan Hauser is a young Croatian cellist known best for his work as one half of the duo 2CELLOS, his partnership with Croatian-Slovenian cellist Luka Šulić. In early February of this year Hauser released his first solo album, “Classic Hauser,” which includes this piece. He’s backed up by the London Symphony Orchestra on the album. Here, he’s made other arrangements for an orchestra: Forest Concert Thank you, Ruth, for sending me this uplifting video! Meanwhile, I wish you could all meet our delightful neighbor Tia, a high school senior we have known and enjoyed since she was a little girl. Like her classmates, she’s had to struggle with the disappointment of missing prom and

Thank you to my dear friend Pat for today’s uplifting video. I’ll let her tell you about it in her own words: "No one says a word in this video -- the faces say it all. It shows what one person can do to bring joy . . . empathy." The Window Washer What else did you see in this clip? Kindness? Generosity? Delight? Playfulness? Curiosity? All of these, no doubt, and much more. Whatever you saw, I’m betting that you’re glad that you saw it. At the end of today, seeing this video may be one of the things you recall if you’re in the habit of practicing gratefulness. You may remember that back on March 24 I did a piece on gratitude, and the ways that it can help our mind and moods, especially now. Perhaps you took the opportunity to start a daily gratitude practice. If not, or if you’d like to try a new technique,here’s one that might appeal to you. It comes from mindfulness expert Donald Altman, who gives it the acronym GLAD:   Each evening, look ba

Do you remember the first poem you wrote? It’s been 60 years, give or take, but here’s mine: So very much sand, such an endless beach. So many white clouds so high out of reach. Such a lot of fish, such a monstrous sea, Such a great big world, such a tiny me. I remembered this little rhyme today because it continues the past two days’ theme of Earth Month and National Poetry Month, and because that’s how poems work, at least for me: they stick in the mind and walk around in our skin. Where does poetry fit into your life? Do you remember hearing nursery rhymes as a child, or reading them to your own children? Did you have to memorize a poem to recite in school?  Do you recall any part of it now? Do you remember the first poem that you chose to keep in some way? Are there favorites that creep back into your consciousness now and then? Living where I do, I often “stop by woods on a snowy evening” when we get snow in my neighborhood. Have you a favor

April is Earth Month, and yesterday, of course, was Earth Day. But April is also National Poetry Month, and what better way to observe it than to look to Oregon's Poet Laureate, Kim Stafford, himself a man deeply connected to the Earth. His classic work Having Everything Right: Essays of Place is a treasure, but an especially compelling read during Earth Month and at this time in our history. The jacket note explains that “[a]nimating …all [of the essays] is the sense that there is joy in knowing the world — and the belief that true knowing brings, as Stafford says, ‘a change of heart.’ " Haven’t we all gotten the message through this pandemic that a change of heart —  even a collective one — is possible? As Poet Laureate, Stafford has been been writing a series of poems during the pandemic. Here’s one that’s especially relevant now: Shelter in Place Long before the pandemic, the trees knew how to guard one place with  roots and shade. Moss

Today is the 50th annual Earth Day, and the Earth has quieted. One impact of this awful time has been a reduction in seismic activity and noise, on the Earth and in the oceans. In Wuhan, Rome, Boston, and New York City, residents are hearing birdsong in the streets. With cruise ships out of the water, oceans are taking a pause. Researchers today expect to confirm findings made after 9/11: when ship traffic in North American waters came to a halt, right whales already being studied in Canada’s Bay of Fundy were found to have a drop in stress-level hormones. Air pollution has dropped significantly, too. You may have seen photos of the Himalaya Mountains, now visible from India and Pakistan for the first time in 30 years. Here’s one:  View from Jalandhar (Punjab,) April 3, 2020 (Photo credit: Diksha Wallia) The theme for this year’s Earth Day is “Climate Action.” On this most unusual of Earth Days, there are three ways to get involved as the planet’s

If you’re like me, then (a) you’ve been receiving a ton of donation requests, all of them worthy, and (b) even if you could give a large sum of money to every cause, it still would not feel like enough. The needs are that overwhelming right now. How do we do what we can and accept that it’s such a small part of what’s needed? I turn to Mother Teresa for wisdom and guidance. If ever there was someone who faced down needs far beyond her capacity, it was the fiercely loving woman now known as Saint Teresa of Calcutta. Here’s some of what she had to say on the subject:      “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”        “It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.”        "We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop.” Of these sentiments, it’s the first that's most helpful for me right now; unless yo

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened.  Don’t open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. ~Rumi We humans are a musical species no less than a linguistic one. ~Oliver Sacks Making and listening to music is a universal human activity. And for good reason. Music is a way to communicate and build social bonds. Most importantly for us in these trying times, music can lift mood, lower anxiety, aid in emotion regulation, help cultivate resilience, and further healing in the wake of deep distress and traumatic experience. This is so whether we listen to music or make it ourself. From the heartbeat we heard in the womb, to the sounds of nature, to the music of our life, rhythmic sound is all around us. And our bodies and hearts seem tuned to it. Do you ever make music? If you don’t sing on key or play an instrument, that may seem a stretch to you. But there are so many ways to make music, and it turns