All of this outside activity doesn’t get in the way of my solitude--thankfully truck noise doesn’t bother me. After a weekend of kids and grandkids I am back to writing, “Seven Days Writing in Florence” is the current title of this travel article. If you have ideas of where to send it, please let me know.
All is back to normal; at least our home routine, but not the backyard. Today trucks are dumping sand for the leaching field, the electrician will hook up the septic system to the house, and the ground will be leveled. By tomorrow grass will be planted and those big dirt piles will only be a memory. All of this outside activity doesn’t get in the way of my solitude--thankfully truck noise doesn’t bother me. After a weekend of kids and grandkids I am back to writing, “Seven Days Writing in Florence” is the current title of this travel article. If you have ideas of where to send it, please let me know.
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I’m here at my new favorite café for early morning writing. It has that old Italian café flavor, which I appreciate more and more as cafes throughout the city receive a modern facelift. In fact, I’ve become a regular here; the barista brings my usual order to my table. I most cherish traveling alone in the morning, which is a solitary time for me when I need to be on my own. Up with my 6:30 alarm, I’m out of the apartment by 7, without a precise plan of where I’ll go, other than find a cappuccino and a church to center myself for the day. I suppose I could negotiate this with a traveling companion, but one of the beauties of being by myself is that all kinds of logistical discussions, which are an essential and part of travel, aren’t present—where and when to eat, what to visit, when to call it a day. Of course I discuss these things with myself, but the conversations are brief and I always get to do what I want. My only compromise is with my other self. This leads me to another benefit of solitary travel, which may be particular to my situation because I come so often to this very familiar place. I spend as much of the day as possible without a plan, figuring that the more I plan, the more ‘obligations’ I put on myself. And that is precisely what I want to leave at home. All the good stuff of family, friends, and church becomes the very impetus to live in the present moment when I come here. Last day of March, my grandmother’s birthday. Born in 1885, Mimi, my mom’s mother, would be 131. I wonder if someone will live to that age. Maybe, if we don’t destroy ourselves before then. There’s so much hate going on—politics in this country, and beyond. Do I speak up? What do I say? What do I do? Right now my best answer is to stay calm and loving and lead the most caring, honest life I can. Right now that means not judging; if I can’t feel positive, than at least I can BE QUIET. Right now that means following my bliss and going to Florence and being a peaceful presence there. I’m off on Sunday. Right now that means starting and ending the day with gratitude, something my grandmother taught my mom, who passed it on to me. I’m back across the street to the library most mornings, sitting in the front room of the historic section, and writing. It’s the same room where I worked on Very Grateful, and am now crafting the first draft of an article that for now I’ve entitled, ‘Seven Days Walking in Florence.’ It is hard to express how energized I feel, but if you’ve every had a project that spot on expresses who you are, you’ll understand what I’m getting at. What could be better than the prospect of walking around Florence and writing about it? I’m in the zone, which gets me thinking, once again, how essential it is for our well being that we feel purposeful in our life. For many of us (maybe everyone), this purpose is something we hold all by ourselves, something we feel is unique to us. For me, it is writing, not just the thought of writing, but having an actual project that, while giving me meaning, also has the possibility of encouraging meaning in others. This writing project has a ready available audience. How many of you would love to walk around Florence? Many, many, many. Help is on the way; you just have to get there. But, if that isn’t a realistic possibility, how about being an armchair traveler. The good news, no, the great news, is that I am off to Florence April 3-14. I had considered going right after Easter but too many plans at home told me it wasn’t a good time. But then life and the calendar cleared up, and so I made my reservations. While I’m excited at the opportunity of wandering around my favorite city again, my husband is equally excited at the prospect of gardening and directing the installation of a new septic system. Hey, follow you bliss, we say at our house. On this upcoming visit, I am planning to write an article—working title: Seven Days Walking in Florence. It will include seven specific walks around the city, perhaps including museums, churches, gardens, living history along the streets, vistas and of course my favorite eating places. Since I’ll be traveling alone, I’ll also include comfortable places to write. My hope, however, it that the article will be useful for those traveling solo or in companionship. Very grateful is what I have to say. I've decided to stop watching most of the news. I was into it, like it was a soap opera. I know where I stand with the candidates and since I’ve chosen not to work proactively for the candidate of my choice, I can’t see the sense in wallowing in the current licentious details of this election year. All that does is bring out the judgmental, arrogant, privileged me, which is the very part I so long to eliminate. When I retired from teaching in 1996 I promised myself that I would ‘stay out of organization.’ I couldn’t articulate well what that phrase meant but I knew, and continue to know, when I am not following that promise. I know because I don’t like who I am—that judgmental, arrogant, privileged me. So, once again I am committing to ‘staying out of organization.’ Besides a more positive frame of mind, think of all the personal time I’ll have to read, walk, meditate, listen to music and even do a jigsaw puzzle. And what’s more, after taking a hiatus after publishing “Very Grateful”, a new writing project is brewing inside me, which as you know will require all the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual time I can garner. A much better choice for me. A print copy of Very Grateful is now in the possession of the four people who behind the scenes made it happen. I personally handed copies to my developmental editor, copy editor, and publisher, and mailed a book to the designer. In spite of all the work they put into it in the past months, this was the first time they held a copy--experienced how it felt and what it looked like. I could tell they were very grateful. Random thoughts-- 1) Writing a memoir about one’s amazing mother is a setup for positive responses. Think about it! How could anyone be negative about a Mom’s message of gratitude? 2) During this first week that Very Grateful has been available, I’ve become aware that I have revealed a great deal about myself. I can’t believe I never considered that before! Good thing I’m okay with it. New revelation: I am fine being both a public and private person. When I published Joyful Learning in Kindergarten and my other books about teaching, I knew they would take on lives of their own. What I wrote was personal, in that I opened the door of my classroom for readers to see what the kids and I were up to. Very Grateful, on the other hand, is both personal and intimate. I have opened the door of my heart and let people in. I can’t believe that I am just realizing this! The books I mailed to family, and those ordered by friends on Amazon are beginning to arrive in peoples homes. They are being read as I write this, although I haven’t received any substantive comments yet. Maybe I never will, which will be okay with me. Here is one comment, however, offered in person from a good friend. “I want to read the book because you wrote it. But I wouldn’t choose it on my own because I know it will bring up more than I want to remember about the deaths of my mother and father.” We all have genre we read and genre we don’t read. Very Grateful is not a must read for anyone. Let us just be grateful that we have the choice. This week continues to give us Perfect 10 days. Not just with the weather but with everything. Every day my mom expressed gratitude for her life, and I’m feeling that way right now. People know about my book: I’ve mailed copies to family, put it out on FB and emailed information to friends. And yet, with the exception of my niece who lives locally and received her book yesterday, no one has read it yet. They know about it, but they don’t know it. I’m very grateful for the first review given to me over the phone last night: "I can hear Grammy's voice so clearly.” Two hours after I posted my last post, I received a phone call from our interim minister telling me that her 92 year old mother had died. Five minutes later I had agreed to lead the Sunday service at church, which meant writing a sermon—we call it a message. Sunday has come and gone, the message was written and delivered, and my week of silence, solitude and simplicity has begun again. But life goes on. I spent the morning changing some frequently flyer reservations (not simple) and attending to some on-line tasks relating to my book, which is now scheduled for ‘publication’ at the end of August. Why do I tell you about my daily hum-drum, very human life? 1) Well, it is fascinating to me, because it IS all about me. 2) Writing helps me figure out what I’m thinking, feeling and doing. 3) If stepping into someone else’s thinking helps me understand what’s going on with me, I’m hoping that the same might be true for you. If not, you don’t have to keep reading. |
Contact me: bobbifisher.mac@mac.com
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