I thought when I left my job more than six months ago, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. Um, not so much. As my friend, Linda B. said, “Looks like you’re having fun!”
Work is overrated. A regular paycheck definitely has its benefits, but there are way more valuable assets than money. One of which is time. I have had time, especially recently to visit with old friends.
On one of these scorching hot days, we walked the High Line, the public park converted from railroad tracks. After walking this path from 30th street for a mile and a quarter down into NYC’s trendiest neighborhood, MeaPa, (the meat packing district), we stopped for brunch.The flowers on the High Line are lovely.
Besides time with friends, there’s something I’ve come to treasure lately: time alone — to read and paint.
Book club seems to be on a summer hiatus. I’m a huge Kindle fan, but I’ve rediscovered the joy of books: all kinds of books (don’t judge me): feminist, erotic, non-fiction, self help.
These three books are on my bedside. And I started the Pulitzer Prize winner, Middlesex by Eugenides too. (Lest you think I’ve lost my literary bent.)
I love to make collage art and book journals.
I started taking class again at Art Students League. You receive very little instruction, but you get a ton of inspiration. Here’s a little project I worked on.
I collaged two small boxes to send to my darling girls at camp.
And then of course, I work on my biz, Boot Camp for Writers, teaching memoir writing workshops. I love teaching and writing. It’s really all I want to do. Well, that and walk the High Line, visit friends, make art, go to the theater, perform improv, make short films, and read books. That’s all.
No one knows this about me. But when I was an assistant editor in the biz school at Pace University, I thought for a day or two about going into nursing.
I was in grad school for literature at NYU at the time. I had tuition remission at NYU through my then-husband, but I could also get tuition remission at Pace. I debated about applying to Pace law school, but the campus was in Pleasantville or Westchester somewhere. That seemed like such a trek from my natural habitat of downtown Manhattan!
So I thought about nursing. I’d heard there were a lot of jobs. Besides, I had loved being a candy striper when I was a teenager.
I have always loved this sculpture, “Acrobat in the Ring.” by Chaim Gross at the Pace University, New York City Campus (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Here’s the thing — I’m not cut out for it.
When my kids throw up, I gag, shudder and turn away. When they bleed, I feel woozy. And when they hallucinate with a fever, I find their hallucinations extremely funny and can’t stop giggling.
I don’t know how doctors and nurses do it — I guess they learn to control these impulses. Maybe I, too, could stifle my gag or my giggle.
So instead of pursuing law or nursing, (real practical skill-type jobs!) I took grad psych classes in critical thinking at Pace in the Straus Leaning and Thinking Center with Dr. Rachel Lauer.
The program blew my mind. I learned so much about learning. For ex., I first learned the word, meta. I learned about methods of thought, rhetoric, kinds of intelligence, and philosophy. I’m richer for it.
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I had pursued nursing or law, instead of writing and teaching.
I took a walk by myself, feeling grateful for friends, for family, for Chris. I snapped some pics. Sometimes, I feel a loneliness in my marriage. Sometimes, my husband’s Parkinson’s Disease reveals itself as apathy or depression. Walking, working out, and blogging help me handle this.When I walk in nature, I receive so much. Once, on a silent retreat, the nun, my spiritual adviser, told me that I must believe that every flower I see is a personal gift from God to me. Just to and for me. Sometimes I remember this.We took a drive and saw this barn on the Connecticut-New York border. Rumor has it this this gothic barn belonged to the Reynolds (of Reynolds Wrap?) family and then Sally Jesse Raphael bought it. I thought, women in media can make that much money to own an estate? Dang, I’m a woman in media.I found a little corner in my friend’s house to curl up with a book (or two). I started “Middlesex,” by Eugenides and “Are Men Necessary?” by Dowd.I took another walk and passed a horse farm.I am grateful for cozy nooks and my friends’ hospitality.
Good news – MRI showed a way smaller nodule (like 2 mm. instead of 11 mm. on the 4 cm. cyst). No blood test results yet but it is something of a miracle. Doc Simon herself was happy to move me from the top of her triage list! Less worrisome! Thanks for your prayers and support…
This was the text I sent to a friend right when I got off the phone with Dr. Simon at 5:15 tonite.
When I told Doctor Simon that the MRI technician had told me yesterday, “You’re going to live. Don’t worry. You’re going to live,” the doctor said, “That’s not what the sonogram showed a few days ago. How crazy is that.”
Phew. I am totally relieved. I was driving to the town of Westport a few minutes later and screamed out the window to the empty field, “I’m gonna live!” My little darling asked from the back seat, “Did you think you weren’t?”
“I don’t know. I’ m just glad to be alive.” And tonite I let the darlings order soft drinks AND dessert when we went out to dinner.
On Monday night when I couldn’t sleep, the words, ‘Get your house in order’ came to mind. I thought, ‘I have got to clean my closet,’ among other, random, desperate thoughts.
I want to say thanks to everyone who commented on the blog and FB status. I am totally blown away by the support of friends and family. I am grateful for everyone who called, texted, emailed, messaged, went out to breakfast with me, and were just plain there for me.
I totally felt and feel loved and cared for.
There’s more to learn, do and follow up on. Like, I may need to see a gynecological oncologist for a second opinion, Dr. Simon said.
But wow, looks like I may not have to clean my closet after all. Phew.
Upon my oby gyn’s recommendation after a regular check up last Friday, I had a sonogram. The technician’s name was Lark. I could tell that she was measuring the length of something. I’m no doctor but when I got up out of the stirrups and looked at the screen, I could definitely see that I had some kind of cyst.
So, yesterday, after biking down to NPR to contribute to an interview about Chris’s Endgame project for RadioLab, I biked to teach my last Creative Exploration class.
I was in the back of the middle school auditorium at 5:15, when I saw that I’d gotten a message from my gyno Dr. Beth Simon. The message said, “You need a blood test and MRI.” My Creative Explorers’ performance was over and so I snuck out of the auditorium and left her a message to please call.
We talked by phone 20 minutes later. She said, the cyst was 4cm and part solid/part liquid, which is the kind they do not like to see.
“There’s a chance it’s benign. There’s a chance it’s malignant.” She was direct and unflinching.
When I said, “I’m worried,” she did not tell me not to be. She told me, “I’m sorry.”
She also said, “I was really on my game to feel that your uterus had gotten a little bigger.” I have to say that I loved her confidence and her possible early detection of something in me that is not so good, ovarian cancer.
So, this morning, before driving upstate, I am running back uptown for a a CA-125 blood test. If the number is elevated, then that’s not so good.
I debated about blogging about this, because I am unsure of the outcome and I am a little scared. But I process things through writing.
And my friend Jenny Allen wrote a play about her ovarian cancer, I Got Sick Then I Got Better. And also after seeing Chris Clavelli’s play this week, it seems the more we talk and write about the tough stuff, the less hard it is.
Last night we saw A Little More Than You Wanted To Spend, a funny, sad one-man show with and by Chris Clavelli about the death of his 6-year old son Jess.
This sucks. I mean the play is awesome, but the show reminds you that life sucks.
Life is a total crap shoot. You get shit. You get joy. You live. You die. Other people live and die too.
You have to talk about it. You have to write about it. You have to tell about it. You have to live it. You have to make something, maybe theater, out of it.
The sucky part, sometimes, is living on and getting up when you feel like curling up in bed and not getting up.
***
Taking the garbage out last night with my daughter Charlotte, one of our neighbors, a former Hollywood starlet from the 1950s (and this is not even giving her away because we have several senior actresses in our building), asked me, “How’s your boyfriend?” or something like that.
Charlotte looked at me quizzically.
“He’s doing good,” I said, about my husband. “He’s got a great creative spirit. Is directing a show upstate this summer.
The former starlet said, “He’s wonderful. He’s got a twinkle in his eye and great artistry despite the tragedy of his life.”
We said good bye at the recycling bin.
“What did she say?” Charlotte asked. “The what of his life?”
“The tragedy. I suppose, she meant the tragedy of his Parkinson’s diagnosis,” I told my daughter.
I don’t think of my husband Chris’s life as a tragedy.
This is not the first time a neighbor has used stark terms to refer to my husband’s disease in front of my kids. I guess, in the dailiness of life, the reality of Chris’s illness is not a tragedy, it’s normal.
It is not always a comedy, but tragedy? I don’t know. Chris feels he is lucky. He feels there are worse diagnoses.
***
This is the second time I’ve seen Clavelli’s play. It’s blown me away. Made me laugh and cry.
I am friends with Clavelli, and his girlfriend Leonisa, who funnily enough, was my work out buddy at my former workplace, before she and Clavelli got together.
The play reminded me to hug my darlings, to love the people in my life, to laugh and cry with them, to talk about truths, to listen to other people’s truths, to make art.
When someone tells their truth, I can’t argue or judge. Hearing someone’s truth makes me want to tell my truth. Because, I know, making art is a way of healing.
Life is a tragic-comedy.
***
Any way, go see Clavelli’s show. It’s really good. It’s only running in June in NYC.
I love summer blockbusters. I also love French films and independent films and basically any kind of films (though, true fact: I have never seen an X-rated movie, unless flipping around and catching Robin Byrd on cable counts!)
I just love losing myself to the dark of any movie theater.
But something kept rattling in my brain after seeing Iron Man 3. I was disturbed by the way Iron Man treated the kid who had rescued him. He totally ignored the kid.
Iron Man seemed to think a dark roomful of toys/tech equipment could replace the presence of a loving adult.
See, the kid in the movie had been abandoned by his dad, and no surprise, when Iron Man showed up, the kid assumed he was a dad figure. And when the superhero needed help, the kid was helpful. (This is not a spoiler. I think it’s fairly obvious that the kid will be useful to Iron Man.)
But then the kid was not rewarded for being there for this father figure. In the end, the only thing the boy received was all kinds of digital devices for him to tinker with. This is his reward?!? The kid needed a frozen yogurt with the dad figure, or a picnic in the park, or, yes, the proverbial, game of catch.
In this room of tech equipment, the product placement of FiOS plastered all over the huge flatscreen TV was jarring and obscene. I was totally taken out of the movie and felt I’d landed in a stupid commercial.
So the message on this Father’s Day weekend seems to be: you want to be a good father? Buy your kid off, get them tons of tech stuff so they can play alone in a dark room. And then you can retire, alone yourself, in your own dank and dark digital kingdom. That’s Hollywood.
This is relevant to my life right now because my son is being punished (I won’t go into the details). And his tech equipment is taken away. He is clueless as to how to survive. I’ve suggested fro yo, a picnic, or a game of catch. But like Iron Man, our superhero, he’d rather be alone with his devices than outdoors with his friends or dad or sports or, even, ice cream.
I find this choice sad — not nearly as thrilling or active as an action film or life could be.
Jack Blessington, exec producer of Religion and Culture, CBS, talks to the NYC Religion Communicators Council, on winning the Wilbur award.
Jack Blessington and Liz Kineke of CBS News Religion and Culture spoke to 25 religion writers and communicators on Tuesday, May 28, 2013 in a conference room at the Latter Day Saints’ office near Lincoln Center in Manhattan.
Blessington said he was dumbstruck when his name was called after winning a special Wilbur award in Indianapolis on April 6, 2013. Blessington had been moved to tears by the Wilbur awards winners who preceded him to the podium. In particular, Blessington recalled Richards Paul Evans’s story of jealousy and forgiveness between Evans and his brother and the Michael Martin’s book on the inspiring life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. “I was lost,” Blessington explained.
But Blessington did not lose his gift for gab this week. He chatted about his early days as a headmaster at Whitby Montessori School in Conn. and his upcoming commencement address. He talked about covering religion for more than 30 years at CBS News.
He called the work of religion writers and communicators vital, especially in covering protests. “The fight is on again, led by the women, the women on the bus,” he said referring to the Roman Catholic nuns who took to the road in 2012 to dispute vice presidential candidate Ryan’s conservative compassion for the poor.
On receiving the special Wilbur award, which honors stories of faith in mainstream media, Blessington said, “Getting the award was lovely, but I have loved the work.”
James (Jay) Rollins of UMCOR (United Methodist Committee on Relief) and national president of the Religion Communicators Council with Liz Kineke, CBS producer and Wilbur award winner.Liz Kineke spoke to the Religion Communicators Council New York chapter on why people are losing their religion.
Liz Kineke spoke about her latest project for CBS on why people are leaving organized religion. The reasons, Kineke reported, are connected to what Christian historian Diana Butler Bass has called the lost decade. After 9/11, attendance dropped, as people perceived religion as too political, too exclusive, and too embroiled in society’s fights, like the struggle for gay marriage.
Upcoming CBS Religion and Culture shows in production, Kineke reported, are on the topics of: religion and humor featuring Lewis Black, Father Jim Martin, and Rev. Susan Sparks; human trafficking; and an “explainer show” on Jainism, Christian Science, and Tibetan Buddhism.
The topics are chosen by an Interfaith Broadcast Committee with input from viewers.
While religion may be losing its hold in society, the subject remains important to CBS News. “Scott Pelley (evening anchor) wants religion to be covered in the evening news,” Kineke said.
The two kept the crowd laughing as they took questions.
Kineke reported that Butler Bass had answered church people who ask, “When are all the young people coming back? There’s no evidence they are.”
In answer to questions on religion’s demise, Blessington described TV’s ubiquity as a resource for educating on values as well as a vehicle for ruining faith and values.
Blessington said he saw society returning to the hedonism of the roaring 1920s.
Neither Blessington nor Kineke, the CBS producers, pushed for one faith above another in their reporting. They both emphasized the value in all faiths, although Blessington frequently joked about his Catholicism as the “one, true religion.”
He also joked that there were too many Methodists in this week’s RCC gathering as there were last month at the RCC awards in Indianapolis. He chided Kineke for sitting at the Methodist’s “naughty table” at the awards ceremony.
***
At the end of the luncheon, Blessington became serious. “I’m not pushing for religion. I am pushing for a sense of humility in God’s creation.”
Blessington, 80, said his work has been to look for goodness. “If you love this life like I do, you want it to go on.”
Yesterday, I went to L’s bridal shower. I wrote this for her bridal book of advice for the newly married with children.
at the ladies’ luncheon.
The little things slip my mind. I want to take a moment each day to notice that I love my life.
I know L. loves hers too. She’s been through a lot, as have we all. She’s divorced and such. I’m divorced, married for almost 18 years now, and concerned about my husband’s health and such. (I love adding ‘and such’ to sentences. It’s a cozy phrase and such coziness can incorporate a lot of water under the bridge!)
But noticing that you love your life does not mean that you love every little thing. Sometimes you have to notice the big picture. Like I have big gratitude for my health, my kids, and my beautiful NYC.
Sometimes you have to notice the little pleasing things that don’t slip through the cracks of awareness in the rush/rush of family life New York City.
I like to notice things like:
Red flowers in green window boxes
White wine on book club nights
Snuggly up with daughters to read a good book out loud
Feet up, watching television
The smell of lilacs or lilac soap – or any scented candles or flowers — that cross your path
When I first met L., I was blown away by how beautiful and capable she was – a single mother with a law career, three kids, and a dog. (I don’t know why but the dog really pushed me over the edge — a dog too? — How does she do it!)
L. made me feel that anything was possible and that we, women, and in particular, the women in my book club, could overcome any hurdle set before us.
Now that L. is entering into the foray of married love again, I see that, too, is an admirable and beautiful and capable not-so-small thing.
And I only wish her (and us all) more love and more little happy things.
-I wrote this for L’s bridal shower book, a book about finding fun and quick things to do in NYC with kids. Our book club is going to Long Beach Island on the Jersey Shore this weekend. I’m super excited for a girls’ get-away weekend.
I added this, ‘Take a moment each day to notice that I love my life,’ as one of my goals at 43things.com. Today I notice I love my life because I love my kids, my book club, my friends, and my gift for noticing the little things.
the Connected Life, getting my kids off technology
A Church A Day, on trying to find meaning by visiting a church a day.
Now they’re all rolled into one (thanks to web developer extraordinaire Felicity Fields). This one, To Pursue Happiness, is about those four goals and the primary goal: to stay happy.
I pursue happiness though I may have absolutely no reason or right.
I feel a loss that my kids are growing up at lightning speed. I feel a sadness that my husband is increasingly challenged by his Parkinson’s Disease.
While these are challenges, they don’t define me. I don’t have to enter or stay in a place of permanent sadness or loss. Life is about what you do with the hand of cards you’re dealt. And I’m dealing.
I’m thriving. I’m staying honest. I’m finding joy. Two great joys in the last couple of weeks were:
Curtain call at the Listen To Your Mother show
As a cast member of Listen To Your Mother at Symphony Space
As the leader of Artists’ and Writers’ weekend in the Adirondacks.
I was anxious about how these would turn out. Would I deliver the goods? Could I? I did!
In these forums, I could be honest, funny, and surprising.
I could write about and share a lot of feelings, including but not limited to sadness or happiness. A range of emotions, even ambivalence and anger, is acceptable and encouraged in my writing.
So while I still do feel, at times, lost, I can find myself through writing and in the company of other women writers. That’s how I pursue happiness.
***
Before the Listen To Your Mother show, the cast warmed up. And that’s Shari Simpson-Cabelin, assistant director, doubled-over, laughing. (I’m in the white pants.) (Photos by Jennifer Lee)
At last week’s Listen To Your Mother show, I was reminded that I am not alone. There are a lot of women telling their truths, deep stories about hardship and love.
Here are some of the Listen To Your Mother (LTYM) New York City posts from my fellow cast members.
Thanks to Shari’s blog for compiling these so I could repurpose! And thanks to producer Holly Rosen Fink, a steady presence, who made this show such a hit.
I got to work with the fab director Amy Wilson, who blogged on motherhood conspiring against her, even as she put on a show.
Here are more stories from the Mother’s Day show.
Co-producer Varda Steinhardt‘s piece was about tracking the orbit of her sons’ stars.
Marinka received the dreaded call from the nurse’s office, It’s Always Bad News.
Kim Forde, 8 and 1/2 month pregnant, read Welcome To The Circus, a guide to the family circus.
Elizabeth (Kizz) Robinson wrote About Me, on how to be child-free and loving.
I haven’t posted my story yet. I want it to be a surprise.
Over the summer, you can see the show at the Listen To Your Mother YouTube channel. There will be videos from all 24 shows across the country, some still going on. Also, upcoming are professional photos of our NYC show by the awesome Jennifer Lee.
***
At my Adirondack retreat and at my LTYM show, I heard a lot of stories that make me go, “aww” – and I feel in the company of AWW — Awesome Women Writers.
Through relentless honesty, these women writers (and one guy) make it okay to be honest and to tell my story too.
100 Days of Poems and Pics 