Cindy on March 26th, 2009
“The art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” — Havelock Ellis
It’s time for some serious spring cleaning. The costumes and uniforms of my past are taking up way too much space in my closet and in my psyche. But since I’m a born collector, I struggle when it comes time to release the threads and fabric of my past. Do you find it hard to let go of things you no longer use or wear? If so, you might want to check out this week’s Midpoint column in The Oakland Press.
Cindy on March 19th, 2009
“Beauty is how you feel inside, and it reflects in your eyes.” — Sophia Loren
Cosmetic ads continually remind us that we can’t look fabulous unless we look years younger. So what does it mean to “age gracefully” today? Must we color our hair, undergo plastic surgery, and spend a fortune on anti-aging products to meet our culture’s rigid standards of beauty?
That’s my topic in this week’s Midpoint column in The Oakland Press. Which side are you defending in the ongoing battle against aging? Feel free to express your views here or on The Oakland Press site. –CL
*Previous Midpoint columns are archived with links to The Oakland Press (look under CATEGORIES in the “Browse” panel at right). These columns focus on issues of special interest to women between ages 40 and 65.
Artwork shown: “One Grace,” a detail from an original painting by Douglas La Ferle
Cindy on March 12th, 2009
The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach — waiting for a gift from the sea. — Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Four miles long and ½ mile wide, the narrow island of Captiva is where Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote the beloved inspirational classic, Gift from the Sea. Last spring, I finally made my pilgrimage to Captiva. Returning home with the requisite souvinir shells, I wrote a reflective essay on how Lindbergh’s words continue to inspire me in midlife. The essay is reprinted in this week’s Midpoint column in The Oakland Press. I’d love to hear from other women whose lives were validated or changed by the timeless advice in this book. And if you haven’t read it yet, treat yourself to a copy. I promise you won’t be disappointed. –CL
*Previous Midpoint columns are archived with links to The Oakland Press (look under CATEGORIES in the “Browse” panel at right). These columns focus on issues of special interest to women between ages 40 and 65.
Cindy on February 24th, 2009
There are two things people want more than sex and money — recognition and praise. –Mary Kay Ash
Everyone’s talking about the Oscars this week — the clothes, the stars, “the winners.” And over at Whole Latte Life, Joanne DeMaio recently asked what it means to be rewarded, honored, or crowned in some way for the work we do. She got me thinking.
A few years ago, when my son was a child, he heard me talking about the annual press awards for local newspaper writing. A couple of days later he presented me with a “World’s Best Mom” certificate that he’d made with his crayons and markers. I think I was working a little too hard at my writing career in those days. So that handmade “award” from my son was both a sweet reminder and a wake-up call, not to mention a tremendous honor. I still can’t think of a prize that could ever top that one. –CL
Cindy on February 4th, 2009
“The imagination needs moodling — long, inefficient, happy idling, dawdling, and puttering.” — Brenda Ueland
Right now, the landscape outside my office window looks more like the moon than southeast Michigan. Even when the sun shines, my seasonal affective disorder (SAD) is always at its worst in February. Meanwhile, several of my friends are heading to Florida this week. And I’m not.
When SAD strikes, I find it hard to concentrate or to get motivated. I get crabby and impatient and fed-up with people I’m usually fond of. But after years of battling it, I’ve learned that the best antidote — barring a trip to Bermuda — is a long afternoon of guilt-free puttering.
Cheaper than air fare or psychotherapy, puttering lets your mind wander while your body hangs out around the house. And unlike fall housecleaning, which involves physical energy and high-powered appliances, puttering puts you in a Zen-like state of bliss. Not to be confused with slacking, fidgeting, fiddling, or piddling, puttering is good for mental health. In fact, Brenda Ueland, author of the classic If You Want to Write, insisted that long periods of “moodling” (her word for puttering) are essential to the creative process.
Sadly, ours is a goal-directed, work-till-you-drop culture. And since most of us like to boast about how terribly busy we are, puttering is never easy to pull off.
For those who practice on the sly, like I do, puttering styles are varied and highly personal.
Puttering can be the act of sorting through a box of college textbooks in the basement; tinkering under the hood of an old Chevy; or rearranging things on a shelf while you listen to jazz on the stereo. In other words, puttering is a way of clarifying life’s myriad details, especially when it’s done with reverence for the objects at hand. It’s an opportunity to reconsider what we most enjoy in our homes, and to make a mental list of what we’d like to edit later.
Feeling sluggish and blue last week, I decided to putter in the kitchen. Taking inventory of my good china, I lost myself in happy memories of the two grandmothers who had actually used all the serving pieces for holiday dinners. I marveled, too, at how both sets of dishes have survived several moves and kitchen renovations â and somehow outlived their original owners.
If puttering still sounds like a chore you’ve postponed, it’s only because you haven’t found a method that cheers or relaxes you. One man’s notion of drudgery, after all, can be another’s idea of soul craft.
“I can’t explain it, but I enjoy doing dishes,” writes Thomas Moore, a former Catholic monk and author of Care of the Soul. “I’ve had an automatic dishwasher in my home for over a year, and I have never used it. What appeals to me, I think, is the reverie induced by going through the ritual of washing, rinsing, and drying.” Thomas Moore can come over to my house and wash dishes any time he visits Detroit (especially if his visit coincides with another power failure). Meanwhile, I’ll keep loading my dishwasher.
Still, there’s merit in savoring the ordinary tasks of daily living.
A lot of us spend our lives reaching for lofty goals, or at least trying to look productive 24/7. This wouldn’t be such a bad thing if so many of us weren’t scratching our heads and wondering what’s missing even after we’ve won all the trophies. (Consider all those baby-boomer executives who can’t wait to retire.)
âMy life has no purpose, no direction, no aim, no meaning, and yet I’m happy. I can’t figure it out. What am I doing right?â observed Charles M. Schulz, creator of Peanuts. Charlie Brown, after all, was pretty good at puttering. — Cindy La Ferle
– Parts of this essay are excerpted from Writing Home –
