Tag Archives: books

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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Inspiration coming in on all fronts

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It is early Monday morning and I’ve been up early, thinking, as usual, and reading parts of an excellent book by Nicholas Kristoff and his wife, Cheryl WuDunn called A PATH APPEARS. This book is about programs emerging all over the world to help address the dual crises of extreme poverty and hunger, what works and what doesn’t and how we all can help. I’m feeling some inspiration coming on… don’t know how that will present itself to me, but I’m trusting that A PATH WILL APPEAR.

Today is my last day in Lubbock for this trip and I fly back to Oregon tomorrow, so I’ve got 3 rolfing session to do today before I begin packing. My thanks to Melody Ogletree and Cheryl of PforymWELL for hosting me to do rolfing here in Lubbock. They do wonderful work with their company, focusing on personal, as well as corporate, wellness programs, and I don’t think I’ve run across two people who do as much research into supplements as these two women do. I trust what they have to say about it all. So, if that’s something you are interested in, too, or, if you are interested in scheduling rolfing sessions with me when I return next to Lubbock, give them a call @ (806) 784-0506.

I won’t be back to either Lubbock or to Tulsa for awhile. The time has finally come to replace my other knee with something smooth and bionic, which will be done by my favorite bone guy, Dr. Ira Weintraub (Dr. Dub) in Portland on 11/20. (“We have the technology. We can make her stronger, faster, cuter, more able to handle small-talk at parties…”)

I am only mildly apprehensive about this since I know what to expect and I love my doc, who, in addition to being a great surgeon, is also a wonderful man. Still, it’s a big surgery, what with bones being sliced up, chopped off, and spikey things being whammed down into the marrow. (I’ve watched YouTube videos just to see what is actually done and, also, to scare the bejabbers out of myself, like the fascination of a bird to a snake. I know, I’m a dumbass sometimes.)

Anyway, my next rolfing trip to Tulsa will be in the new year, 1/15-1/20/16. Call Stephen Saunders to schedule rolfing sessions there @ (918) 605-6508.

I’ll be back in Lubbock 1/22-1/25/16. Contact PforymWELL @ (806) 784-0506.

I will spend the holidays rehabbing my leg and, chances are, not cooking as much as I usually do during those days. I hope all of you have a delightful Thanksgiving with family and friends and that your Merry Christmas is truly that. We all deserve the love we have to share with each other, let’s try to remember that one. So long for now and remember this, too: You are all deep in my heart, from Texas (and Oregon.) JS

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Chelsea Handler’s new book, “UGANDA BE KIDDING ME”

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In the Portland airport yesterday morning, I bought Chelsea Handler’s new book, UGANDA BE KIDDING ME, about her trip to Africa. It is SCREAMINGLY funny, and I’d read 2/3 of it by the time I got onto my connecting flight out of Chicago to Tulsa. I was surrounded on this flight with several cancer patients heading back to Tulsa after a particular kind of cancer treatment in Chicago.

The young woman sitting across the aisle from me saw me laughing and asked, “Is that book good?”

It was, indeed, I told her, thinking this is a book that would make Stef Neyhart fall over sideways laughing. (For example: Chelsea Handler says the 3 things any world traveler needs are these essentials – 1.) a compass 2.) skiis and 3.) a shotgun.)

Anyway, as I studied this young woman’s face, I noticed that it seemed swollen and a little gray. Her eyes looked dull, with a fear peeking out back in there somewhere. WAS SHE A CANCER PATIENT, TOO? CAN I JUST ASK HER THAT? I MEAN, WHAT IS PROPER HERE? IS THERE A CANCER PROTOCOL? AND, IF THERE IS, WHY DON’T I KNOW IT? AND, WHAT IF SHE BREAKS DOWN IN TEARS? OR – EVEN WORSE – WHAT IF SHE’S NOT A CANCER PATIENT AND WANTS TO KNOW WHY I THINK THAT, THEN I BUMBLE THROUGH A RAGGEDLY HONEST EXCUSE FOR WHY I EVEN THOUGHT THAT AND THEN SHE’S FOREVER FRETTING OVER HER BLOATED, GRAY FACE AND DULL, FEARFUL EYES? JEEPERS, WHAT A MESS I’VE CREATED – GOOD JOB, JODY! YAY, ME!

“I’ve thought about getting that book for my brother and his boyfriend because they LOVE Chelsea Handler,” she said, “then I could read it before I give it to them.”

I am a pretty fast reader, but I have never read the last third of any book faster than I read that one yesterday. I can’t say I exactly remember what I read in the last third of the book, either, but as the wheels to our plane touched down on the Tulsa runway yesterday, I closed the book and held it across the aisle to this young woman. “For you,” I said, as she smiled and took the treasure from my hand, “today is a good day to laugh.”

And, Stef Neyhart, the most gentle one in the world who keeps me calm, said just what I knew she would say, what is ALWAYS in her heart, as I told her the story on the phone last night, “Always go with the greater need.” She was right, as usual. And, so, I did. 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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