And a Third

A third day of night writing.

But it was a great day. Beautiful blue skies, temperatures in the 70's, low humidity. Spent time with a friend on her back porch and in the pool. Drove ten minutes from there to the beach to watch the ocean for awhile. A nice ride home in the cooling evening. Watched the sun sink into the river as I came into town.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life..

Night Writing . . . Again

Another late night writing session. I need to schedule writing time for the morning. The lateness of the hour reminds me yet again. The day's been a quiet one. It was a long week at work and I appreciate the time to regroup and restore myself. I made good food and went to the grocery store. I thought I might do some reading or tidying, but the day got away from me. I'm spending the day tomorrow with a friend at the shore. Can't wait to look at the ocean. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

Tornadoes and Tomato Sandwiches

Thursday is my Friday.

So, it's the weekend. (Yay!) And I'm ready for a rest. Didn't have much energy for cooking tonight, but my office admin brought me a bag of tomatoes from her garden. Talk about wonderful! I sometimes forget how amazing sun-ripened garden tomatoes are. I had  just enough energy to slice one and use up the rest of the small loaf of sourdough I bought to make my daughter sandwiches for her flight back to Chicago the other day, slap on some avocado oil mayo, and cut the sandwich in half.

I took the sandwich into the living room. I've been popping back and forth between news coverage of the tornadoes threatening our area and the movie The Day After Tomorrow. A tornado touched down near a local mall, an observed tornado. And another was observed in the skies just north of me. The storm has now moved away from our area, but I've noticed that this summer we've had several storms like this, with tornado warnings and actual tornadoes touching down. I don't remember tornadoes being an issue here when I was growing up. Seems like a consequence of climate change. I'm just glad I didn't end up in the basement tonight.

Now it's off to the Olympics and the women's all-around competition. I marvel at these courageous women who hurl themselves into the air, doing mind-bending feats. I remember as a girl doing a little bit of gymnastics. The feel of flight was mythic. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Pausing at the Crossroads

The sun is out and it's a beautiful day. I haven't had much contact with the outside world yet. I made the mistake of hoping to make a quick call to schedule an oil change, but there never seems to be the ability to make a quick call these days. Is it me? Or just dumb luck? I also looked at email. I try not to do that before heading into the office, so I'm clear to write, when I can write in the morning. Decided to do that today.

Why am I thinking about mind clutter?

I wasn't before I began, but as thoughts begin to come, I am reminded of settling into meditation, when thoughts come unbidden and take the mind off in different directions, as if I am the crossroads and my thoughts are the spokes of the wheel heading off into different directions and bidding me to follow.

Bid to follow the unbidden thought.

But I am at the crossroads, and it's such a great place to be, so I'll pause here a bit and just look out over the many vistas available from this vantage point. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Treasure

It's a good kind of tired.

I spent the day with my daughter, her last day before flying back to Chicago. She offered to help me move boxes from the storage unit to my new office. She's such a treasure. My son usually helps me. He's treasure too.

He's settling into new responsibility in his work and hasn't been able to get the time yet to come up here, so she thought she'd help us both out. Believe me, it's a job. But not as bad as she thought it would be, she said, so that makes it an even more precious offer.

Really, it was only a tiny part of the day. Two trips over and back. I was able to park right next to the door, on the grass, and I'd found a dolly to help get the boxes from the car to my office. We spent most of the day just talking and laughing together. We have a special place we've gone for lunch or dinner since she was a teenager, and we drove up river to have lunch there. So glad we did. It was perfect. 

Then the long drive down I-95 through Philadelphia rush hour traffic to the airport. Only, there was no traffic in our direction. It was stunning. There was no anxiety about getting there on time. Massive hugs before I let her go, wishing I could keep holding on. Forever.

I drove back north and decided to go over to my office to keep my mind off the good-bye. Unpacked most of the boxes and got most of the books on the shelves. I am ahead of the game with that. I've got meetings tomorrow, so it's good to have the space clear and ready to receive people.

When I finally dropped what was in my arms as I came into my apartment, I felt every inch of the exhaustion of the day. Thought I'd better write before I'm too tired to write more than three sentences. I am grateful for the tiredness of this day. It's a happy kind of tired.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life..

 

 

The Narrow Part of the Spiral

On Monday morning I give myself space to breathe.

Right there in the morning, when most of the developed world is driving itself aggressively to take on the challenges of the week. It's a way that I work with my own tendencies to over-function at work and sometimes grind myself into circles in ways that give me headaches. 

Sometimes I wake up on Monday mornings with headaches. Bad ones. Like today. They remind me to take time to settle myself in time and space for what will be expected of me in the days to come. And to care for myself. I'm in a caring profession and am no good to others if I am not taking care of myself.

It took me decades to learn this.

Not that the lessons hadn't been there all the time, over time. The life lesson, though, has been like as spiral, as most are. I move around and down, or out, and come to the same point again and again, but differently.

So this morning, while sipping tea and finishing Morning Pages and thinking about the day and the week, my hair wet from about 45 minutes in the shower allowing very warm water to loosen the muscles that tightened overnight and exacerbated the headache, I noticed my writing pattern since my new work began 14 days ago. Night writing. Often the last thing of the day when I was exhausted and had little to give. Showing up, but just barely. Grateful to have shown up, even if it was not my best work, which was being given away with little of me left for the writing. 

Last night may have been the cherry on that cake. I went to bed and then, while settling down for sleep, remembered and got out of bed to take fifteen minutes to quiet myself and allow an image from the day to emerge. Flowers. Joy, The wonder of having too many wonderful things to spend my life on. Family. Friendship. Home and my changing relationship with that. 

So I wrote and then took the joy to bed with me. Woke, and allowed whatever was working its way out of my body to gently release in streams of water and go down the drain. Washed the dishes I'd not gotten to last night. Wrote my morning pages. I notice a pattern of release here on Monday mornings. Clearing up, letting go - in the shower, in the sink, on the page.

Remembering myself as everything else clears away.

Remembering that my best writing happens in the morning. Remembering that the writing is the most important part of my day. Wondering how I could have lost that - again. As I started new work. And then dismissing the part of the thought that held judgment and held on to the part of the thought that holds the lesson and the wisdom. 

I have a little sign on my writing desk. Schedule what is most important first. Always. I've written about this before, and it seems I'm on the narrow part of this spiral, since I'm back here again so soon. There is something deep and focused that I'm meant to learn here. And I'll work with myself around it.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

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The Joy of Flowers

I was given two vases of flowers today. One, beautifully arranged with flowers from her garden and flowers she bought at the store, the other offered from the hands of a small child and cut from a garden, fragrant with herbs and blessed by a found blue jay feather. One for my desk at the office, one for my table at home. 

I am fortunate to be blessed by such bringers of joy.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

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In Connection, There Is Healing

Arriving back home late at night, I am grateful for the three days I spent with my daughter and my mother, the three of us together. It was brilliant, from the unexpected birthday party for my daughter with my brothers and their families, to the time we spent going through needlework treasures crafted by grandmothers and great-grandmothers and great-great grandmothers and aunts and great-aunts. And other treasures as well. 

My daughter and I spent several hours in the car driving home and made plans to squeeze in one more day together before she leaves. I'm grateful for that also, and for the time she'll get to spend with her brother. Life is beautiful.

In my preaching last Sunday, I offered the thought, "In connection, there is healing." I'm thinking about that this evening as I think about the rough road we've had these last 18 months. This time we spent together after so much time apart, this connection and re-connection, it truly has been healing time. I can't speak for others, but the last 18 months have been rough at times so some healing feels good. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life..

  

Three Titles

My daughter and I went to the bookstore today. I had a gift card and an itch to spend it. I told her to pick out whatever she wanted. I also picked out whatever I wanted. It's great to do that every now and then, to go out and pick out whatever you want and bring it home.. 

I came across two titles I've been wanting to buy, one by a woman whose Ted Talk is my absolute favorite - about joy. The other is new. Something I heard of this year, not sure where, but it's right up my alley. Rooted: Life at the Crossroads of Science, Nature, and Spirit. Yes, that's me.

The third book is a surprise. An author of short stories recommended by a colleague in my writing community. Actually, recommended by several. I'm not very in touch with the latest in publishing, it seems. I'd never read her before. I fell in love with short stories after reading Night Shift by Stephen King. I can't read him anymore because I can't have his genius in my head, but his short stories still thrill long after I've packed his books away. The other short story collection I love is Sugar In My Bowl, an anthology by women writers about women's relationship with Eros. 

I've been writing short stories since I was a young writer. I gave up in my early 20s, figuring I'd come back to it when I had more life experience. My characters were flat. I've come back to it in the last 20 years. Off and on. 

I write short stories because I am a sprinter and not a long distance runner. Not sure there is a novel in me. There might be, but it would have a hard time getting out.

My eye rested on a slight volume, Susan Minot's Why I Don't Write and Other Stories. After a moment, during which I recognized her name, I picked up the book. The title draws me. As does the idea of reading an author that colleagues compare my short story writing to. It's always interesting (to me) to see myself reflected through another's lens.

I have another day with my daughter. I drop her at her brother's tomorrow evening and they'll spend a couple of days together before she flies back to Chicago. I'm grateful for this time, but I'd like to tuck her away and keep her all to myself. The time feels short. 

Of course, I'm not really thinking about that. And I am. When I can corral myself, I think about how fortunate we are to have this time and how wonderful she is. How at 33, she's as magical to me as she was the first time I held her. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

 

 

 

Yes, It Is the Little Things

A friend posed the question this evening, and I answered without thinking. 

She asked, "Is it the little things?"

I was getting ready to sit down and write so I didn't click through and read her blog post. I will, of course, later, and I'm feeling a tiny bit like the dueling church signs in a favorite series of photos that have church signs discussing whether or not dogs go to Heaven. 

"Is it the little things?"

"Yes. It is the little things."

I think about this a lot as I've been writing about happiness this summer and cultivating happiness while I'm at it. And here's my take on the little things:

They fill the spaces between the big things to bring the day-to-day contentment that we read over time as happiness.

They also hold space for the big things when those are out of whack. 

I've lived in both spaces this summer and have experienced the joy in the little things in both ways. 

Today my daughter and I drove down to my mother's and celebrated her birthday with a pop-up gathering with her uncles, aunts, and cousins. We ordered carry out from a favorite place and sang the family songs as she gazed into the candlelight in the darkened room, taking in the love all around her. Curiously, this was a little thing and a big thing at the same time.  

Curiously, but not surprisingly.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Art: hand painted by a friend of my great-grandparents. It hung over my grandmother's bed when she was a little girl, and then over my mother's, and then over mine. My daughter has slept beneath it as well on occasion when visiting my mom. Tonight, it hangs over the bed I'm sleeping in while visiting my mom with my daughter. 

  

And Key Lime Pie

Sometimes it's just as simple as a good day doing work you love, a beautiful evening and a serendipitous stop at a favorite restaurant for an unexpected dinner out on the patio by the river. A quick ride home, a comedy on TV, a few minutes to write, and starting a new book to read for pleasure. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Evening Falls

Lunch with a good friend. 

A fabulous haircut. 

A good day doing work I love.

Running into a church member I really like.

And a few minutes of great conversation and

A lot of laughing. 

What am I not thinking of?

Probably a lot.

I recall the beauty and allow it to cement the narrative of the day. Small frustrations float away like dandelion seeds on the wind. Larger frustrations melt into the sunset as I banish them from the night. Who knows where they will be when day returns? Maybe they'll fly up beyond the Milky Way and get lost among the stars.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Happiness Is

Happiness is driving an hour to the airport.

Road work on I-95.

All to pick up the kids from their flight from Chicago.

On my daughter's birthday.

Happiness is the crazy traffic in the city.

Expensive parking in a garage.

A long walk to find a place to eat.

Being told time after time the wait is an hour.

All to share a meal with the kids.

And celebrate my daughter's birthday together.

Happiness is driving an hour home from the city.

The lanes on I-95 reduced to one.

Hopping on my laptop just before midnight to do my daily writing.

Thinking about falling into bed exhausted and happy.

After spending four hours with the kids.

On my daughter's birthday.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Always Another Opportunity

I'm thinking about the week to come and am remembering that intention and awareness help cultivate happiness.

My kids have been spending the last few days together in Chicago. They're flying back to Philly tomorrow, and my daughter will spend the week here. I last saw her the first week of June, when an unexpected trip back east enabled us to connect in North Carolina for three days together at the beach. Tomorrow I'll pick them up at the airport and take them to dinner, and then at the end of the week my daughter and I will drive down to see my mom. We'll spend another three days together. Two moths in a row. I'll take it. 

I'm thinking about what other moments of happiness I can create just by paying attention. My column is due for the paper this week. I love writing, so there's a chance at happiness. I love my new job. More happiness. I get to spend my week doing work I love. And there's my daily writing for my blog this summer. That's more work I love and get to do. 

I just connected with a friend and made plans to get together in a few weeks.   

I'll probably take a look at how I'm managing my self-care and all the other things I haven't been paying attention to while I've been focused on starting new work. Maybe do a life inventory and check in around how the ways I've been living have been contributing to my happiness. I'm thinking also about what I'd like to do on vacation later this summer. Things are different with a new variant of Covid that's been spreading, so I have a chance to explore car trips this time that don't have me in dense populations. Another opportunity for creativity and cultivating happiness.

A Hundred Years of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Ah . . . Happiness . . .

Happiness is brunch with a good friend.

I got the chance to meet up this morning with a good friend for brunch and it was so wonderful to laugh and talk and listen over a meal and sparkling mineral water on the porch of a fun café with the makeup melting off my face because it was so hot and muggy.

It was so hot that I drove straight home afterwards instead of walking around town and popping into shops for a little light-hearted fun.

We'd originally wanted to go to a different café, but they wouldn't let us sit at their last table in the shade because it was set for four. Their other tables for four were about to leave and the one other open table they had for two was in the hot, beating sun, right next to the door they use to bring out the food. Just because there's room for the table, doesn't mean it's a nice place to sit. Just sayin'.

So we took our dollars and our fun down the street to somewhere that had a nice place to sit and talk on a hot and muggy day. It was a minor blip. And we had a great time. 

Until the next time she's in town . . .

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

Sometimes Happiness Means

Another night of tech woes. And exhaustion. 

Sometimes happiness means going with the flow and letting it all go.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing project that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Ides of July

Hurry, before the screen freezes again.

Ides of July? Is there such a thing?

Et tu, Blogger?

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Tricky and Dicey

The atmosphere in the wider culture is difficult.

Part of the work I am doing in my professional role is to help create a healthy container for community life in a church. A church is a microcosm of the wider culture and most, if not all, of the challenges in the culture exist in churches to a greater or lesser degree.

I'm finding messaging tricky right now. Trying to sound the right note, express the right tone, be clear, kind, use the best information possible, especially around Covid and gathering is challenging.  

The more I read about this Delta variant, about vaccine hesitancy and low vaccination rates, about the politicization of public health matters the more concerned I become. And people are sensitive right now - they seem to be listening for judgment and condemnation, for something to take issue with. I think part of that is a reflection of the rhetoric of the last five years or so. 

It's late at night and I am musing over a correction I need to make tomorrow. It took exactly three days for my first crisis to rise up. I'm going to have to be more careful than I've ever been before about messaging. And I'm grateful that someone pointed out their perception so that I can address it. That doesn't always happen. Sometimes people simply get mad and disengage. 

A community is built on connection and caring. Even if one might not understand or agree where another is coming from, in a community we listen, we empathize, and we course correct so that as many people as possible can feel secure. It's become a popular pastime to denigrate the idea of a "safe space" - but our communities do need to be safe spaces. It takes mutual respect and collaboration to build a foundation for that. And when trust is broken, it can be difficult to rebuild. Everyone has a role in that. We must speak with care and listen with a willingness to accept that the message is offered with care. To train ourselves to step away from being offended and to be willing to be more open-hearted. That can be hard when there has been conflict. 

I knew a therapist once who said, "Husbands and wives must make love to each other, knowing that at any time the other could betray them." Or make a mistake, or be inconsiderate, or many other things that are part of relationships. Other kinds of partnerships are no different - we have to move toward each other, knowing that the other can hurt us. We can't build our personal walls so high that we are isolated if we hope to be in healthy relationships. That means minding our tendencies around becoming offended, and it also means choosing not to be defensive when someone says they are hurting, allowing ourselves to be curious and compassionate instead. In all that, we start to mend the frayed edges.

A Hundred Years of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.   

 

Just How It Is

Is it really only Tuesday?

Feels like Friday. 

Some days that's just how it is.

I've learned, year after year with this practice, to allow what is. 

And sometimes it's about the space, and not about filling it.

A Hundred Years of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Halfway There

It's the halfway point of the A Hundred Days of Happiness summer writing project.

I'm starting new work today, a situation I've wanted and looked forward to for the four months I've waited for it to be possible. There really is something to creating a vision and working toward it. 

I'm sitting in my office. Everything is chaos. But, slowly, I'll be cultivating a kind of order. Someone used the room for a few months to organize another office and the remnants of that process are still here on some of the shelves, in some of the cupboards, cabinets, and closets. But I've cleaned and moved my belongings onto one of the shelves on the wall of bookshelves. I've arranged the furniture in the way I want to work and communicate my priorities to those with whom I'm working. My desk is in a large light-filled corner, looking out into the room, and there's a huge picture window to my left with a beautiful view of the outdoors. Rain is falling. Willowy hosta stems are bowing to the weight of their blossoming. I can see the sanctuary wing of the building and the street signs of the intersection on which the church property sits 

The room is dominated by four comfortable chairs around a small table, an area for conversation. It's what I see when I look up over the screen of my laptop. It's a reminder of the most effective way I do my work. 

And to my right on the corner of the desk? A small vase of homegrown flowers from the office administrator's garden. They welcomed me this morning. It reminds me that my presence is appreciated, just as yesterday's meeting with the core leadership to sign our agreement reminds me of the excitement around beginning a new chapter in this congregation's life together. We rearranged the furniture. 

That tiny and important bit of collaboration is such an important teacher. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Nope, Not Chasing Anything Today

When I was a teenager, we had an active youth ministry at the church where I grew up and every year we led the services on Youth Sunday. It was so fun. I remember being a child and marveling as I sat in the pew with my parents and grandparents, watching this extravaganza, 

It was nothing like anything I'd ever seen before. And then, as a seventh grader, finally able to be a part of it and still marveling, this time at the older youth, especially the high school kids which back then were 10th through 12th graders. Some of them played guitars and could play and walk and sing at the same time. We had processions down the center aisle - there must have been 40 of us - singing sacred folk songs with guitars and so much energy and enthusiasm. I still remember some of them. This one is based on a passage in the book of Isaiah goes something like this:

        Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength,

        They shall mount up like eagles on wings of great length,

        They shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint,

        He gives strength to the weary and power to his saints. 

I think about that one when I've been through it and have come out on the other side. Sometimes I even hum the tune while thinking of the words. I've been thinking about it this evening. It's been a rough couple of years and things are looking up. I'm feeling fortunate. And grateful. I decided to celebrate this evening and treated myself to some carry out. Sushi. I also got a couple of shrimp rolls from the Chinese place - because it's going to be a busy week and I want to have some ready food around. They're easy to heat up and I enjoy them. 

Anyway, I picked up the last fortune cookie at the counter when I picked up my order. This is what it said,

            All things come to him (or her) who waits.

Got to admit - it gave me goose bumps. Maybe that's a bit of an overstatement, but I certainly did smile.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Chasing My Tail

I'm stuck in the chase, it appears.

Lots of irons in the fire, lots going on. I'm thinking that at some point, there will be a lot of things finishing at once. Soon.

I'm thinking about my writing last night and about wild nature, the wild nature outside and my own wild nature. It's got me thinking about the desert and this longing I've been feeling to get away and get out into the back country. Alone.

It's strange that after all the Covid-19 restrictions we've been through in the last 16 months, and all the time I've spent alone, that I'm craving an even deeper solitude. I am. The time spent around people feels sometimes overwhelming, sometimes wonderful. Sometimes I wonder whether I'm coming or I'm going with that.

I'm certainly not the only one. Been reading lots of articles about the challenges of returning to a more social existence. It may be short-lived, though. With the new variants developing because of slow and inconsistent vaccine roll-outs, and vaccine hesitancy and low rates of vaccination, we may find ourselves right back in isolation come fall. 

I'm not sure that isolation during a pandemic gives me what I crave around deep solitude. With the stress that comes naturally with a global crisis, it's hard to rest into the peace of solitude while in that kind of isolation. 

All this reminds me how important it is to be open, flexible, and nimble. To modulate expectation. 

Thoughts come late at night as I'm thinking about retiring to my bed. I did not sleep well last night and had surprising and uncomfortable dreams just before I woke for the first time this morning. I got my sleep in two three-hour spurts. With a three hour break in between. Days like today have me wondering about what kind of self-care is needed in this transition. Mulling.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Chasing Wild Nature

Driving home from a friend's this evening, the songs of tree frogs and insects made me smile.

It's another happy place, the wild pockets of land one can find even in the congested east coast of the United States. I opened the sun roof of my car to a clear expression of the Big Dipper above me in the night sky. A profusion of fireflies twinkled like fallen stars there on the hilltop. A doe noshed on foliage by the side of the road. There were no sounds of civilization - no other cars or the sounds of television sets, electronic music, or the whir of air conditioners. 

I turned left onto Rt. 29-S in New Jersey, the road that winds along the Delaware River,  and spent another three miles with just the sounds of wild nature and my own car. I didn't actually chase wild nature. It found me.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

   

Chasing My Happy Place

It's about time we got around to it. Of course, often it's fleeting and something I only can point to. Sometimes it's as elusive as it is obvious.

I spent a few minutes there this morning, as I ambled through the Princeton Farmers Market from stall to stall looking for the makings of nourishment. Lacinato kale, arugula, blueberries, early peaches and a tomato. Italian parsley. A good black tea. A charred loaf from a Fishtown bread maker. Local, pastured ground pork. 

But I think it was the handful of freshly cut lavender that made me the happiest. Everywhere I walked the fragrance preceded me. And flowers fell. 

The tea merchant told me I was leaving pixie dust in my wake.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

 

Chasing Traffic

The Internet this evening is as frustrating as the traffic.

Driving along smoothly until late-night highway work stalls,

GPS reroutes through winding streets in unknown neighborhoods.

I return home to write; the screen freezes ten thousand times.

Page unresponsive.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Chasing Youth

More heat, more humidity, more laughter on the deck tonight.

Old friends, new memories, sipping wine in the evening's light.

When did the sun set? When did darkness fall?

We were so busy eating, talking, we didn't notice at all. 

 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Chasing Fireflies

The kitchen smells of nectarines.

There are bowls and vases of hydrangea strewn about the house.

The air, hot and moist, carries fireflies as they rise with the sunset.

I watch as a small boy chases them and they elude him.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life. .

 

On the Road

I'm taking a couple of days away to spend some time with my mom and visit with friends.

I'm reminded that plans don't always work out as we intend them. My trip began with unexpected change and a detour across the Walt Whitman Bridge. I decided to surrender to the flow.

Life feels a little easier when I do.  

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

I Am Becoming My Own Teacher

I have a creative cycle, and I forget sometimes when I'm in the middle of it. I've been doing these summer writing projects since 2018, and they have a pattern. I haven't completely figured it out yet, but I'm starting to see it. And when I can't see it, something emerges to remind me. 

Today's writing from three years ago came up in my FB memories -

            The Roar of the Blank Page is Deafening

I am reminded by my own writing that there are times when I need to create space for creative work, and that creating space is not the same thing as clearing space. 

All my spaces are cluttered right now. Congested. It makes me feel a little panicky. The wisdom I was able to tap into three years ago gives me a way to navigate the feelings. I'd just finished up some old work and had gone away to begin some new work. I thought that tying up the old work would release something in me to enable the new to flow, but I learned it is not about getting rid of something - it's about giving myself space and spaciousness. My words today are inelegant and halting, but I feel their message in my bones. 

I've been working on a book for the last three months. I'd set out to finish it in six. It's not coming along. And I discern a similar pattern to the one I encountered three years ago. I'm crying for a vision, an epiphany, one in which the heaviness I feel lifts and the stories come freely. 

The stories had been coming. And then a dear friend died. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. I'd made arrangements to see her for the first time since Covid hit and, instead, I went to her funeral that day. The grief has been like a hand closing around my throat. A friend said, "write about the grief." I can't. Not yet. It's too fresh. Unspeakable. Death happens every single day. It's as normal as life is. And, yet, when death comes for one who is beloved, there is nothing that feels normal or reasonable or possible about that death.  

Something eased when I said that. And I'm breathing a little bit easier. Just a little bit.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience. 

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.

Art: The Weight of Thought by Thomas Lerooy. 

Tripping Over Thoughts In the Wilderness

It was a sleepless night last night.

The ground is being turned over with writing and reflection.

I finally got up at about 1:30 - there's no point tossing and turning when sleep does not come. I lit some sage and smudged to clear my space of whatever stale energies were contributing to my late night thoughts, watched some video of an old teacher before going back to bed. He was talking about how to reset. The mind. The body. The emotions. Energy. 

It might have been a sign. 

Yesterday I was writing about resetting. And disruption. And chaos. It seems I took it all into the deep parts of the night. 

This is the 40th day of writing. Thoughts of the wilderness come to mind. 

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonder. She asks big questions of the small things in life. 

    

Road Closed

I've been a little under the weather this week, so it's been quiet with very little going on. And it's got me a little antsy.

I think it might be the pandemic effect. 

I've been in such a state of high alertness and accomplishment that it's hard to settle down, rest, and relax when I need to. It's something I've noticed here and there over the last year or so, and it's something that has been blaring this week as I've had to take time out to rest.

I've been wondering over the last few weeks about patterns and behavior change and whether our patterns and behaviors are who we really are or whether they are simply something that is attached to us. And whether any of that really matters.

All of this has been part of reflecting on some of the changes I've noticed in myself, others, and the world around me since the crisis with Covid began. Do we know when something big happens in the world (or our lives) that leads to substantial change as it is happening, or is it only as we look back and reflect over years that we really see how things have changed. 

It may be some of both.

I'm starting to think we're in a time of re-set. Where we're reflecting on how life was before Covid, and how we might like life to be going forward. 

In computing, reset is defined (by Wikipedia) this way - 

. . . a reset clears any pending errors or events and brings a system to normal condition or an initial state, usually in a controlled manner . . .  

Playing with this a little, let's try this -

. . . a reset clears any pending errors and brings a system to an initial state, usually in a controlled manner . . . 

When I think about this in terms of my life, I see a tremendous opportunity. Certainly, this opportunity exists every day, in every moment, but sometimes it takes a threshold, disruption, something extraordinary to get our attention. I think that's why people think in terms of new days, new weeks, new months, new seasons, new years, life passages, and such, to create new habits, new patterns, self reinvention, spring cleaning, New Year's resolutions.

I'm noticing a little chaos in my life right now. I think that accompanies these thresholds as well. As if most of my mind space is taken up with this kind of noticing, and many of the usual things are not getting my attention. 

I refilled the hot water for a second cup of tea this morning and found it a few hours later, sitting on the counter, tea basket with the tea leaves still in the cup, the tea cold. I poured that into a pot and turned on the stove to reheat it. That was about an hour ago. I just found it. The saucepan is now soaking and I'll scrub it a little later. The kettle is on again, heating the water. Hopefully I'll have that cup of tea I started to make three hours ago in a few minutes. Resetting.

A Hundred Days of Happiness is a daily writing practice that opens a landscape of discovery into my own human experience.

Katherine Cartwright has been blogging since 2012, and each year brings new wonders. She asks big questions of the small things in life.