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Sharing a birthday~ the only way to go

12/30/2011

NYC taxi, a little before my time.

For all but six years of my life I have shared my birthday with my sister. I remember the evening my dad telephoned to our home in Connecticut from New York City to announce that Margot had been born. “You have a special birthday present.”

     I don’t recall minding very much that I had to include her; after all, it was a given (you can’t change your birth date) and having a six year advantage gave me all of the control I needed. But don’t get me wrong, there were times when I did mind. Usually Margot had her birthday parties on Valentines Day, but I remember once, after I was past the party stage, that I had to walk to town to meet my friends at the skating pond because Mom was busy with my little sister’s party.

       As we got older, Margot and I started enjoying this special connection although we’ve never made a big deal out of being together on the day. We always knew that it was Christmas and New Year's (not to mention my wedding anniversary on the 28th) that took center stage.

      My parents never made a big deal about birthdays. As depression era children they had a sensible outlook and wise response to what was important. Consider the following vignette that came to methis morning as I realized that this is my first birthday ever without my mom. Let’s call it my nativity story, which Mom told me several years ago. She and Dad were on the way to the hospital in a taxi from Brooklyn to Manhattan.
      Dad: "What are you thinking of naming this child?"
Mom: “Well, if it's a girl, I'd like to name her Barbara.”

     It was a simple as that. Clearly one of Mom’s easier jobs that day.
Happy Birthday, Margot. I’m glad you were born and I’m glad we share December 30th.

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Peace and quiet amidst holiday festivities~

12/28/2011

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During the holidays we may not have large chunks of silence, solitude or simplicity, but we can find ways to “be our own person” as we eat, drink and be merry with others. How to be our ‘authentic self’ in the midst of family activity is always the challenge.

Yesterday we all had a stellar experience of this when we took the metal detector over to a friend’s old house. Eight of us went: two participated in the metal detecting, four played tag, and two talked with the owners. Everyone was engaged; no one was bossing anyone; we all seem comfortable in our own skin.

Oh yes, three adults stayed home enjoying the peace and quiet.

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Petsitting~

12/26/2011

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The promise I made a few weeks ago not to get a pet still holds, solidified by the ‘petsitting’ that we’ve been doing this Christmas. Don’t get me wrong, I love Scuppers and I don’t mind his visits, but I don’t need a dog as an alarm clock. And, how could I ignore a dog bouncing into our room at 3 AM--just not worth the cleanup. Then there are the middle-of-the-day calls to go outside. Dogs seem to need hourly attention.

Today I have the companionship of Scuppers while the rest of the family has gone into Cambridge. I’m aware that I am distracted from my silence, solitude and simplicity, but I don’t mind for one day. When I hear the jingle of his collar, my solitude is broken because he and I simply have to exchange a little conversation.

Oh, I’m enjoying the visit of Izzy as well, but we’re not getting a cat either.

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The Shortest Day~

12/22/2011

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Looking from the Isle of Iona to the Isle of Mull.

The poem I’ve just posted (see Cottage Companions: Poems), entitled “The Shortest Day,” is the first in a series of “Midwinter Poems” by Jan Sutch Pickard. In the early 2000’s Jan was the Warden of the Abbey on Iona; she now lives on the Isle of Mull. Jan is a writer and story teller, and an advocate for peace and Justice.

I met Jan during one of my visits to Iona. She was friendly and vivacious, and very present to everyone who was on the Island Pilgrimage that day. I had the sense that she had found a balance between her work out in the world and her need for solitude—an extrovert and introvert in sync.

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Silence, solitude and simplicity during the holidays~

12/20/2011

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Winter Solstice at Stonehenge

As the Winter Solstice approaches, and the sun seems to stop and tread water before turning, it is easy to think that we are stuck in the present moment, when in truth, life is continually in transition. I’ll return to the cottage in January and notice that the sun is rising earlier and to the north, giving me longer sunlight days. And I will return to more silence, solitude and simplicity than I have here at home during the last two weeks of December.

During the holiday season I am particularly aware that some of us are living a life in which things keep changing all the time; we feel we have no silence, solitude or simplicity. On the other hand, there are people around us who have too much of the 3S's. For example, yesterday I spent the afternoon with a elderly woman who did not want to sit in the silence, all by herself, with simply too little to do. Then in the evening a group from church went caroling, visiting people, in ‘nursing homes’ and ‘at home’ situations that confine them to solitude, silence and simplicity beyond their choice.

Let’s admit it, it’s the choice that makes a big difference.

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Simply decorating~

12/17/2011

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The heat is turned down and the refrigerator is just about empty. That’s how simple it was to leave the cottage-by-the-sea yesterday for the two plus weeks that I’ll be home for the holidays. Today we set up the tree and brought down the Christmas boxes from the attic. I got the ornaments ready for the grandchildren to hang on the tree when they arrive next week. All the preparations felt easy, which I think is the way it should be if we pay attention to the spirit of Christmas. Will it matter if every ornament doesn’t get displayed? Who will know or care? The Grinch? Rudolph?

Of all the decorations, my Christmas mugs are my favorites. Some I received as presents when I was teaching. But my very ‘bestest’ are the Coca Cola mugs that say ‘Santa Clause’. Now how simple is that for offering me holiday joy?

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Cozy nests in the dark of December~

12/15/2011

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The other day on my way to the beach two sparrows surprised me as they flew out of some birdhouses attached to a little garage. If birds can smile, that’s just what these two were doing, and no question, their smile was directed at me. “Beautiful day. Have a good one. It’s up to you, you know.” Off they went and I continued on.

“What were they doing in those houses?’ My thinking is so limited and narrow. I think of birdhouses in terms of nesting, but there they were in the dark of December. Those birds need a cozy cottage by the sea, just as I do. Come to think of it, don’t people come to the ocean only in the summer for swimming and sailing? But here I am in the dark of December, cozy in my little nest, just like the birds.

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Simply on the beach today~

12/13/2011

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Life felt especially simple on the beach today. The tide was almost in and for a while I was the only human being along the mile stretch. Then there appeared a women like me, all bundled up although it wasn’t particularly cold; next, a man enjoying the companionship, and yes, distraction, of his dog. The sea gulls were waiting for low tide to bring them their main meal of the day. The log that I wrote about a few days ago was still standing tall in the sand.
Back at the cottage I notice that the sea is acting up a little, but it’s nothing to concern me. The weather may be changing but there’s simply nothing I can do about it, thank goodness.

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No, I'm not going to get a dog~

12/11/2011

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No, I’m not going to get a dog, but I must say this Dalmatian on the beach yesterday brought back happy memories. She was liver-spotted, the same color as the first Dalmatian we had when I was about four years old. I remember the day my dad came home with Amber. Although we never knew her early childhood history, we concluded that she was probably abused as a puppy because she cowered whenever we raised an arm above her head, and she was shy with everyone but the family.

    Amber went on to live a full life, producing two litters of pups. One of her offspring was Speck, our family pet all through my growing up and even when I went to college. I always considered him my dog and I guess he was because I was the one who roamed about the woods with him and tolerate him sleeping on my bed.

     All those memories are just fine as memories, but as I said, I don’t want a dog. Just talking with the owner of this very appealing Dalmatian reminded me that owning a dog is not simple. Accompanying a puppy through adolescence to adulthood is complex, and by that I mean time consuming, expensive, frustrating and more. (Oh, I know, there are many joys and rewards.)

    But putting the simplicity/complexity issue aside, having a dog would detract from my solitude. A dog is a companion, and believe me, I’m all in favor of companions. But when you walk the beach with a companion, you are not walking in solitude. And you know how it goes--of course you’d take the dog with you every day. That’s part of what owning a dog is all about.

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Companions at the cottage~

12/9/2011

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Can you see my gulls?

I am going to take down the bird feeder that I put up on the kitchen window when I arrived here three weeks ago. On that first day back, there they were, a full chorus of songbirds in a nearby tree. Clearly a harbinger of friendly visitors in the months to come. But alas, it appears that not one little bird has ventured forth to grab one little kernel. What’s more, I haven’t seen a single bird in that tree since that welcoming day.

As I sit on the deck writing this, a flock of gulls just flew by. They will have to be my companions for the duration of my stay. Good enough for me. I can enjoy my titmice, chickadees, finches, cardinals and nuthatches when I’m home.

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