dogs, fitness

Hello, 2023

redheaded woman in pink puffer, taking a selfie in a mirror with an orange iphone
Salon baño selfie: Damn, my hair is getting long!

“Honey, my last blog post was after our Michigan trip!”

“That was quite a while ago!”

Today’s the day. I’m hoping some of my loyal but few readers will appreciate an update, so here goes.

But first, I’d like to share a little bit about my struggle. There has been some tragedy on the home front, some of which I’ve written about in prior posts here. But in the balance, the show is definitely still going on; I just haven’t written about it. Not feeling compelled. Not feeling it. I’ve not been feeling a creating energy.

Or at least, not the creating energy that created posts here or drawings in my journal or even fun speeches for Toastmasters. I’m still enjoying trying new recipes, playing music with my ukulele and voice, crafting my yoga newsletters, and cooking up new yoga class sequences and playlists.

brown bowl with lentils, sweet potatoes, greens and feta cheese

But writing, especially here, is such a sort of cathartic event for me. A kind of “here is a state change, even a subtle one, and I’d love to talk with you all about it” thing. And well, I don’t feel fully transformed.

I’ve been feeling more … ephemeral. Not so much indecisive as searching for the right … kite string?

Kind of like a moth, fluttering her wings, touching down here and there but moving in a seeming willy-nilly sort of pattern. Which has some things in common with things that are unmoored.

I am not sure if “unmoored” is fitting, because in some ways I feel more grounded, these last few years. Maybe due to the two furry reasons, mentioned below? Or to pandemic lockdown and the ensuing continued nesting tendency. And a Minnesota winter.

Perhaps it’s that I feel … moored. Tied to something something that doesn’t move.

“Grief-stricken” is a strong candidate, though in my recent experience, “stationary” is not a way I’d describe that at all, in any of its stages. For the most part, I think I’m doing okay on the grief front, that is unless it has something to do with this stuck-in-transforming “state.”

Ah well, my therapist told me to not rush it, give it time. But I’d really like to see the “after” photo/situation. For now, above is an “after” hair appointment shot, which will have to do.

Here’s a rundown.

Stationary, or at least very slow-moving things

My yoga teaching. I’m still enjoying it, but in some ways I really want it to grow and surprise me and lead me down unpredicted paths. And yet, it’s still parked on the sidelines of my full-time job.

My UX career. Is 20+ years enough? What am I still searching for? TBD.

My location. I am still in Minnesota. Weirdly, I’m feeling some pride in the fact that in a few months, I’ll have lived in this house for 20 years. However, when I add on the 13 more years that I’ve been in Minnesota, when all along I’ve expected to be somewhere else, the pride turns to disbelief. It’s true that I have had some amazing adventures here and without Minnesota I would not have some of my very best friends, but … I feel like a broken record.

We’ll be spending more and more time out west, this and over the next few years, I know it.

My small home improvement projects. We discovered a moisture problem in the guest bedroom a few months ago, which now means some heavy, possibly toxic cleanup on one wall and a complete repaint of the whole room. And in our nearly 20 years here, the one room we never painted was the living room. I’m so over the dark, grim olive color. I’d really like to bring a lighter color in to that room, especially in this dark winter when the main natural light in there is from shaded western and northern windows.

However, both are jobs that having windows open will be vital. And that’s not going to be happening before June.

Things that are moving

Heavy weights, up and down. I’ve been doing some, as my excellent strength coach Cassi calls it, “lifting heavy shit,” three times weekly since the start of October.

I’ve always felt strength is important but for several years now, I’ve kind of whiffed it, deciding that my rock climbing and my yoga were sufficient. The last time I did resistance training with intention was when I trained for my first marathon in 2014. And now, I’m officially, clinically, a woman who needs to do strength training not just to get stronger and not just to prevent injury, but also to build bone and ramp up my metabolic rate. So, when an orthopedic visit last summer resulted in a recommendation for a little PT and definitely some strength training, I followed the doctor’s orders, and started it up. It’s been mostly fun, and certainly satisfying.

My body, around the block/neighborhood/dog park/trail, multiple times a day or week. We have 2 amazing dogs now and they need activity!

My heart. It swells, almost every minute that I spend time with our dogs. (Excluding the minutes that Cooper is barking at the Fedex, UPS, or USPS truck outside the living room window.) My friend Jean recently wrote in her excellent blog that having a pet is a very emotionally grounding thing to do. I’ve always believed that having a pet means that a creature, a not-gifted-with-normal-language creature, fully depends on me, and probably loves me. The being needed part is a big nut to crack, but the loving part… that makes me feel so okay about so many things. A working definition of grounded, for me today.

    2023, let’s do this.