Category Archives: Lessons

The book, “WILD”, and then there was me

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Cheryl Strayed walked a thousand miles of the Pacific Crest Trail. Her new hiking boots, which were too small, ripped most of her toenails off. After her mother’s death, she had taken a look at her life, didn’t like what she saw, and said, “I’m going to walk myself back to the woman my mother thought I was.” So, she did. Her book about this journey is called WILD and it is FABULOUS. They made it into a movie starring Reese Witherspoon, which is also EXCELLENT – as raw and real as Cheryl’s life must have felt during that whole time.

Last Friday, I had my right knee replaced, which has been needing to happen for many years. At home now, EVERYTHING I try to do seems to take YEARS for me to do, and, then, I am exhausted. Parts of my body other than my knee now hurt, too – aching and throbbing from being called upon to get to work doing jobs I’ve never asked of them before, or, just from simply lying in bed for hours in weird positions just to get comfortable.

I emptied the dishwasher earlier, which seemed to take hours. Of course, then I was exhausted and grumpy. My leg was throbbing like a sump pump. I thought, as I often do, I’M SCREWED. Sometimes, I am right; other times, I am wrong about that. Then, without preamble, Cheryl Strayed and her journey wafted across my mind and then I thought: WELL, AT LEAST, YOU’VE STILL GOT ALL YOUR TOENAILS.

I hobbled in here to the living room, clicked on the TV, and there was Reese Witherspoon starring in WILD, right there for me to see. Again. Writers have a way of saving each other, even when they don’t know it; ESPECIALLY when they don’t know it. I hope words I have written over the years have offered hope or comfort or insight to someone right at a time when they were needed most, even if it just allows someone to think: WELL, AT LEAST MY LIFE ISN’T AS BIG A MESS AS HERS.

It is important, especially for those of us who tend to “awfulize,” to realize that pain, even in all its rawness and thrashing about, doesn’t last forever. Wounds heal. Movement returns. Things change, shift, and life goes on. Sometimes, Life, with arms spread wide and grinning at us like we just won the decathlon, even forgives us. Today, I needed reminding of that and Cheryl Strayed showed up. Right when I needed her most. Thanks, Cheryl. JS

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Accidental enlightenment

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Accidental enlightenment: when something almost important occurs to you for no apparent reason. For example, I realized yesterday while doing the laundry that, unless you do the last load buck naked and stand in front of the dryer until it is all dried and ready to fold, you will NEVER have all of the laundry done all at once. It is impossible. Thank you. JS

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Where’s my stuff ??!??

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I am one of those people in the world who has an almost screaming need to know where my stuff is. Today, I am missing a big chunk of some of my most important stuff since it is in a suitcase somewhere (I hope) between here and Dallas.

I am also a MAKE IT HAPPEN kind of person so, of course, I am now presented with the challenge of missing my stuff and knowing there is nothing I can do to speed up its return to me. I must wait. And be patient. And be silent. And be grateful that I even have stuff to fret over.

Lessons, lessons galore for this impatient girl who was born two months early and fretting from the get-go. I hope I don’t crack a tooth over this. JS

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Toby and Anne Lamott

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Up very early this morning, not even 3am, because I couldn’t sleep. Toby got up, too, thinking, as he often does, that this means it’s time for breakfast, which it almost always is, for him, as soon as I get up. But not today, not this early. He tests me many times, heading toward the kitchen, hopping up and down, doing the entire repertoire of excited doggie tricks he enlists to enroll me in the euphoria of his mealtime. But, I don’t fall for it. I sit on the sofa, pull out my laptop; he sits beside me on the couch, sighing for effect, letting me understand his disappointment that he doesn’t get to have breakfast during what is, essentially, the middle of the night. I stand firm, however, not giving in to the manipulations of my little canine boy, until, at last, he hops down from the couch, wanders back into the bedroom and waits for me to come and pick him up onto the bed so he can go back to sleep.

Sometime, I hope to be able to explain to him the advantages of delayed gratification but, since he’s a food-motivated dog, I’m not so sure how that will work out.

I’ve been reading Anne Lamott essays for the past couple of hours – crying, laughing – and feeling grateful there is someone on this earth who understands the rust spots on a tarnished soul, pointing out that rust is just oxidation and oxidation means that something has just been working extra hard to be seen. JS

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