Goings On

I love the surprise of adventure...

I admit that I’m not a disciplined writer. I know many Substack authors who post regularly, even daily. That’s not my style. I prefer to wait until an idea begins to perculate and slowly fills my cup. Sometimes it’s quick, and other times continues to brew. Lately, I’ve been relaxing more and producing less.

Retirement has been a great gift in my life, but it also influences how I look at the things I do or take on. At first, I stayed really busy. I used to thrive on the stimulation of juggling many things at once. But now, if it feels like a work or school assignment, I’m not interested. I do what I want on my own terms.

For many years I worked a full time job and went to school or performed music at the same time. It was wonderful and exhausting. If I begin to feel lazy or even a little guilty that I’m not doing much, I remind myself that I worked hard and accomplished many goals. It’s okay to read a book or tend to my plants!

In the meantime, here are some things I’ve done in the past few weeks that were surprising and fun:

On May 2, my talented writer friend, Elizabeth Howard, and I read poems at the Bridge Street Bookstore, in Humboldt, Kansas. Humboldt is found in southeast Kansas, near Chanute and Fort Scott. The entire experience was a revelation, from the delightful Octagon City Coffee Company that included a complete, hand-drawn history of the town on the wall; the town square; a history museum (that had just closed so now I need to go back); and the art studio of Patrick Haire, who has recreated a 19th century wood working shop. He also makes amazing nature sculpture art under glass in his own frames, some of which are for sale at the Bridge Street Bookstore. I sold three books (to strangers! whoopee!) from an audience of about eight people, some whom I brought with me. Afterwards, we ate dinner at Union Works Brewing, delicious.

The following weekend I attended an annual Garden Party hosted by my friend and bandmate, Scott Easterday, and his current housemate, Patrick Dobson. One never knows who will show up, although a few are regulars. This year I met a couple, friends of Patrick, who were excited to find out we’d just been in Humboldt. They’ve been there numerous times and know Sarah, owner of the bookstore. After I got home, I looked at Facebook and found that a friend from years ago, who now lives in DC, commented on the photo of Elizabeth and me in front of the bookstore sign. He said that the family responsible for revitalizing Humboldt are longtime friends. Thanks to the internet, the world continues to get smaller.

My next big news is that last week I had my first acupuncture appointment. I’ve wanted to try it for a long time, and finally persistent neck pain pushed me to go. Recommended by my trusted yogi, Joe, Caite Ryda recently opened her practice at Arbor Vitae/Yoga Patch in Kansas City. I can truthfully say that after the first session, I was pain free. No more creaking noises, no more pain meds. At my second appointment yesterday, she addressed an ongoing muscle pain in my mid back from a trampoline injury (jumping with my granddaughters, sadly for the last time), and allergies I’ve dealt with all of my life. Feeling hopeful!

But the highlight of this past week was a visit with friends at their ranch in Beaumont, Kansas, near Eldorado and Wichita. That area reminds me of visiting my grandma’s farm in Versailles, Missouri, hikes in the woods, and my dad teaching us to swim in water so clear I could see little fishes and rocks at the bottom. I took my swimsuit to Beaumont in hopes of swimming in the pond, but cows were grazing there. So our host drove us out to his favorite childhood spot in the woods, a swimming hole in the creek that goes through the property. The water was just warm enough and it felt heavenly.

Otherwise, I’m still reading Louise Erdrich books — currently “Love Medicine” —

slowly gathering and editing poems for a second manuscript, and spending quality time with my husband, family, and friends. Wishing you all a restful Memorial Day with loving, joyful memories of those no longer with us. Grief comes from a place of deep love. To close, here is a poem from my book, “Copper and Other Precious Metals.” Be kind to one another.

Love and Grief

Once grief arrives it never leaves,
burrowed in the space
of whoever left.

Love is the mother of grief.

Together, love and grief
nurture sorrow into compassion.