Category Archives: life strategy

Listless is clueless

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Mad Hatter Teaparty

Mad Hatter Teaparty

I was having some girl friends over, and some of us had quite a lot on our plates just then. You know that middle age means being in the middle of all ages did you not? There were parents, spouses, kids, grandchildren, obligations and careers, and we were in the middle of it all, comforting, helping, advising and supporting. We got to talking about how we tackled stress, and how we sorted our priorities. No one surprised the others by saying she made a list, because we all do that.

Too much to consider

Too much to consider

The interesting part is how we make different lists and how we make lists differently. One of my friends said the trick was to make a narrow list, just wide enough for a single item, that would convince her that one step at a time would guide her through her day, and it would. My mother used to go to the other extreme, the bigger sheet of paper the better. She would make columns for each hour of the day, allot tasks to each hour, and then force ahead, being sure that if nothing happened it would be possible to achieve it all.

Too much on you plate...

Too much on you plate…

Then of course, as most of the elements on her lists were living creatures who did not know that we were committed to paper, she was always behind her schedule. She found it comforting to know though that life was the messy part, not her planning. To me all sorts of lists are basic survival tools. My head is always filled to the brim with ideas, plans, projects, dreams and pictures. I can handle that, what makes me reach for my notepad is when worries are trying to take over.

Just one task at the time

Just one task at the time

If I think I really have too much to do, I use a list to tell me it is not true.To me list making is a way of making sure that the pieces of my life’s puzzle will fit together and make a beautiful picture in the end. I jot down every thought that comes to mind, not categorizing or sorting, just everything. Like emptying the puzzle box on a big table. The rationale is that if it is crowding my head it needs to get out so I can see what it is all about. Normally it takes only a couple of minutes to know that whats left in my head might stay where it is.

They do not really care about the fuzz

They do not really care about the fuzz

Then I start sorting. Normally the categories would be family and friends, work and church. These are the corners holding my picture together. Then of course there will be different projects to do and to remember. The surprise that always elevates me is that is normally boils down to the small details of the big picture. Thinking it over, having a look at the pieces that want to be in my picture I can confer with the picture on the box of the puzzle and say, sorry you do not belong, or I can turn it over and say, this piece goes with the border, so let’s just keep it out of the middle for a while.

Let's get to work

Let’s get to work

Doing this I also discover that life is just like the old jigsaw puzzles at our cabin. Someone has been lazy when sorting the pieces. Mostly you will discover that by emptying the box. As in life, I can easily  spot and remove the big, clumsy pieces that clearly not belong.

One big picture

One big picture

It get’s tricky though, sometimes you can make a piece from another box fit. Not quite, but almost. That is when I get stressed, that is when I sense something is wrong, when I try to fit something into my life because somebody has dumped it into my box. As I get older, I am learning. Doing what others should do is not taking responsibility, it is robbing someone else of the blessings to being allowed to  walk in the work prepared for them.

Different tasks

Different tasks

Of course, when nobody is shouldering the task, when there is a real emergency, that is something else. If not, I have learned it is wise to just wait it out, sorting through my pieces once more. Resting in the blessing that I will have time for what I am called to do, quietly putting the other pieces back where they belong.

First things first, as pigs see it

First things first, as pigs see it

The pictures are from the County Fair this weekend. Busy, teeming with life, everybody concentrating on their own tasks.

Teamwork

Teamwork

Messy neatpins

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Beautiful order

Beautiful order

We stayed with some friends this week. As they left early for work we made our own breakfast, and I was impressed by the total order of her kitchen. I had to comment on that later in the evening. Oh, she said, I just keep it that way, my grandmother organized it when we moved in. That was ten years ago.

Very well ordered, but for whom?

Very well ordered, but for whom?

As for me? I de-clutter and organize several times a year, but as soon a I start living in the neat, clean space, life takes over. I talked this over with another dear friend some days ago. Her home is as organized as mine, everything has its place, and most of the time that’s  where you’ll find it. To me order has it’s own beauty. So why do we strive to stay organized? Because the well-ordered universe is not our natural habitat.

well ordered, but not living

well ordered, but not living

And we both know that keeping organized is our survival tool to be able to do all the thing we want to do, or have to do. We both are impulsive, creative, active, imaginative…and at least for me, messy. Not when doing ordinary things like cooking or cleaning, but say gardening…..I’ll start in a corner. I find a plant that does not thrive, I find a new spot, I discover a rose that should have been cut back, I trim that rose and start the compost cutter, I spot some twigs that are too big and go to the landfill with those, or saw them into logs, then I see that the wood shed should have been cleared….

Where to start?

Where to start?

Hopefully I put the poor plant in the ground before I started on the roses, life is a messy business! Not to talk about painting, quilting or sewing. Pulling everything out, looking at the colours, feeling the material, gets me going, while nothing stops me as having to look for the handy tool or the scrap that would make this project perfect. Then again,  if I really am stuck, the best strategy is to clear up, sort out, to take stock. To me, that is true about everything, not only visible projects.

To untangle life enough to be aware of the single rose

To untangle life enough to be aware of the single rose

Actually, even more so if I do not know where to go next. I think life’s messes are like balls of wool, if they are entangled it makes things worse to pull at one thread even if it is the right one. Stop, think, tweak and pull softly, perhaps even cut a knot. And then I will be knitting again, until the next knot. At least I will know where my yarn is, and if need be where my scissors are, hopefully.

Nostalgic- weekly photo challenge

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IMG_6234 what we wereI once read that nostalgia originally was an illness. The diagnosis army doctors put on boys from the Austrian mountains that simply were not able to thrive in the flatlands. Now we allow nostalgia to have a more genteel ring to it, almost like a reverence for the things passed. Sometimes it can be stifling too, making only what was, or what we remember about it, be the ideal state, not being able to tackle change and challenges. At the World Museum of Mining last week I saw this sign, perhaps the only way to balance looking back, looking forward and being here, just now? I think the quote is from T.S Eliot’s “Wasteland”. Anybody nostalgic about high school and EngLit able to help me out?

This doll symbolizes the stifling nostalgia to me. She has been standing, waiting, in this dollhouse for decades, looking for people who will never return, and as she is in a museum she is not allowed to engage in play with real, living children.IMG_4643 dukke

Have you eaten today? Blue pills and red pills

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Come on, breakfast is ready, where is everybody?

Come on, breakfast is ready, where is everybody?

It was a late saturday evening. I was in hospital, seriously ill, and not able to eat at all. The nurses went in and out while I was more or less asleep. Hospital doors shut in their own way, they just glide silently at slow speed until they are almost closed. Then they stop, and shut in a final quick swish. Just as the door closed, this last swish brought with it a vanilla waft and a peal of laughter. Someone was baking waffles in the nurse’s kitchen, hoping for  an easy shift with time for socializing and friendship.

Trying to fool me with a blue pill are you?

Trying to fool me with a blue pill are you?

That smell brought so many memories of my grandmother’s tradition of serving waffles to everybody on saturday afternoon, of happy meals in the garden and by the fireplace. It brought longings for companionship and joy. It brought regrets for  the times I had not appreciated being with my family or taking time to share a meal with a friend. The smell of that simple and unpretentious food brought resolve to never take fellowship or sustenance as a given. To me it is not about what we eat, but eating together, sharing meals that take so long that thoughts, questions and reflections have time to arise and be dwelt upon.

I want to take part in the fun

I want to take part in the fun

I have been told that the chinese used to greet each other with ” have you eaten?”. The most important thing to know, implicating that if you had food, your day must be good. We know that many could not answer positively to that. Even today, we will find hunger, malnutrition and need very close to us. So, on the other hand, if developing pills that would take care of everybody’s need was possible, if I could eat pills so that all of us were given the chance to live, then I would do it. Until then I am happy to being able to eat. Until then, you’re welcome to sit down at my table sharing a meal.

Having a cup of coffee by the lake, come join me!

Having a cup of coffee by the lake, come join me!

The more the merrier, a daily post on a cloned me

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Old computers at Bletchley Park

Old computers at Bletchley Park

I do remember an old Duck tale story my children used to love. One of the ducks is so fed up with his duties that he constructs a robot to do his chores. The problems start when the robot self duplicates and his other selves takes over his life, until he starts to wonder which of those ducks am I? That’s the moral take of course.

The enigma

The enigma

The thing is that I already have a lot of totally obedient clones. The one who works most is happily whirling along in the laundry room and will deliver clean towels in an hour or so, thanks to her I do not have to spend my days in a cold brook swirling clothes in the stream and hauling then back. The great thing, when she is done she shuts up until needed.
I do have some stand ins too, some grow food, some spend days on the road to deliver it to me, and some take care of the food in the store until I need it. Wonderful, I can do cooking and baking for fun, knowing we will not starve if I decide not too for a day or two.
IMG_2778 hullkortThe only clone I am having trouble with is my thinking clone, this glass tablet that I spend my days fingering is luring me to think that lots of stored facts are thinking. My clone’s infinite capability of storing information and giving it back on the slightest nudge, is fooling me into thinking that I possess knowledge.

IMG_2768 kretserEven if my computer is totally non intelligent I tend to trust her more than my own mind. Perhaps we are letting the clones take over? I know for sure that the more tasks I do not perform, the more knowledge I do not possess, the more important it is to guard as a great treasure what makes me me. Is it what I do, is it what I know, is it what I remember, or is it just what I am?

Press it! Sharing blogs that make a difference

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Other people may show me when I am too narrow-minded

Other people may show me when I am too narrow-minded

Prompted by the postaday prompt to share and recommend three blogs that I loved, I am happy to recommend these three persons who all makes a difference in the world through what they do and what they blog.

Some years ago I asked my brother, who knows this kind of things, is it possible to earn money on my pictures? I was aching for some new gear, a photo safari in Lofoten….you name it, I needed cash! But most of all I ached for a job closer to my heart.  He gave me a book by David du Chemin, Visionmongers. It was not so much about photography as it was about finding, sharing and living by one’s true calling and abilities, the vision and passion. David writes so well, is an astonishing photographer and comes through as a genuine caring person. That book meant a lot to me, and of course I was happy to discover his blog. One of the guiding stars in my life is “give, and it shall be given unto you” . This is the spirit of David’s work too. He writes so poignantly about that today. “Let them steal”,he says, talking about how the fear of being the victim of theft kills the creative energy we could have used for creating. Have a look at his work and words your self!

David du Chemin-world and Humanitarian Photographer

Other people may show me new steps to take

Other people may show me new steps to take

Then there is an norwegian blog I’d love to share, the MD Maria Gjerpe, writes so well, combining medical knowledge with her own experience about chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS).  I do not have that illness myself, but have family members who suffer. Maria’s first hand , balanced and sound advice is just what I need. Just now she has started a project to  crowd fund research on CFS. If you do understand norwegian, have a look!

Maria Gjerpe

Listening to others may even give me a new perspective

Listening to others may even give me a new perspective

Last night I got a like on my own blog from someone I had not seen before. I checked out her blog and followed immediately. Pat is a Dominican Sister of San Rafael. She shares so many of my hobbies, hiking, walking and photography. Then again she has chosen a different way of living her belief than I have done, which makes it a gift to me to be able to listen in on her perspective. Her poems and pictures are like a spring of fresh water on a walking trip. You might like it too.

Her post today is about optimism, go visit OPreach!

Index or indexy? A postaday prompt to publish a draft

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Yesterday's card

Yesterday’s card

Some of my old midwestern friends told me their organizing secret, always carry index-cards in your wallet.

As if…I thought. When I finally got around to use the calendar and address book on my phone, why should I return to paper? Then I met someone who invited me over for coffee, and before I could make a note on my gadget she pulled out a card, drove a map, made some helpful notes ( ..and I know my GPS would not have told me to watch for the cute mailbox) and gave it to me. Hmm, neat. When I had been there I did not need the note anymore and could discard it (literally). I also know that I never go into my digitalized notes and organize or delete them.

Plowers and pipers, totally unorganized and happy about it.

Plowers and pipers, totally unorganized and happy about it.

Then I needed some material for a new project, snippets of what I got  stapled on an index-card, add the new bought stuff ,and I had the start of a project archive.

Then I needed a list of directions for a bicycle ride, write on card, tear out and tape on to my handlebar.

Then I was waiting for my husband for lunch and come to think of one of the things I do not do and that  I probably should do….write a diary. Nothing  serious. Just as a memory trigger for pictures I take and thoughts I am not through with thinking. I do not want to carry more in my bag, I do not want a prestigious project, and I do love the concept of all-in-one.Index cards, and the idea and theme of this blog was born together with my “Indexyourlife- diary”.

Where I sat yesterday

Where I sat yesterday

Once a day, when waiting for something, I pull out my spiral bound index cards. I write the date and a heading. Yesterday it was ” At Coal Point” then I write what I am doing just then, a thought that is passing through my mind or just some facts. NEVER more than one small card. The beauty is that I can do all other indexy stuff on the following pages, and not ruin my diary, as I will pull them out and sort them when the stack is up.

The waves were great, no whales at whale point though

The waves were great, no whales at whale point though

The true beauty is that this is just at the core of what I think organizing should be about. Not de-cluttering and buying organizing tools, but taking care to use my resources on my true values, and not let my own or other people’s clutter de-energize me or make me waste my precious time. Indexyour life is my way of taking stock, stopping in the middle of my day, saying: I am here, this is what I do, this is what I think. Doing this I turn what could be irritating ( waiting for someone) into a precious moment of reflection.

The thing I never do is putting information on them and index it…..that is one thing machines can do better than me. I am indexy-ish not a robot!

Not me! Interesting at the computer museum at Bletchley Park

Not me! Interesting at the computer museum at Bletchley Park

Where the roses grow and carrots thrive

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Another rose , another time

Another rose , another time

Time is relative, and childhood is the proof. The fact is that I did not spend many summers at my maternal grandparents home, a couple yes, but not all summer, and absolutely not every summer. The truth though, in my heart, is that the greatest part of my childhood was an eternally long, sunny summer spent with my aunts and my grandparents. My parents obviously was somewhere on the scene too, must have been, then again in my memory they were just part of the set up.

Summer at Christmas, with my grandmothers plates

Summer at Christmas, with my grandmothers plates

Then there was Christmas and sledding and skiing of course, but that must be occupying another part of my brain. At least this two parts of my growing up do not share the same olfactory memories. Today, I need only the smell of scraping carrots to take me back to my grandfathers garden. I was allowed to pull the freshest tiniest roots out of the earth, rinsing them under the garden tap and enjoy them at once.

Another happy garden

Another happy garden

That is how summer tastes! And then the afternoons, there was coffee and kringle in the garden. I am sure my aunt would tell me how it was raining and how the Flammentanz did not bloom through the whole year, I know. To me, I need only the smell of a rising dough on my kitchen counter to take me back to the expectation of sitting on the white wooden bench, between some grown ups, listening to their talk and laughter, smelling and enjoying the overhanging roses and biting into the sweet icing on the still warm cinnamon kringle.

In my own garden

In my own garden

It was never so much about doing, as about being. That is what I aim for in making a home for my own family too, not only giving them memories of the things we do, but creating a treasure of homely smells, colors and sounds. Being aware of that what is only a fleeting moment for us adults may be what defines the whole childhood for our children. That will not happen if it does not ring true, no child is fooled by fake happiness. That will not happen if what I aim to do is setting a scene for something rather than making the trivialities of life itself pleasant. Perhaps that is why my memories linger and fills up an inappropriate big place in my heart, these summers were never activities to while away time, it was life itself, being allowed to take part, being useful, being in the middle of it, to belong.

Roses in old pitcher

Roses in old pitcher

No matter where you go, there you are

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Botanic Garden Cambridge UK april 2012

Botanic Garden Cambridge UK april 2012

On my first trip to England (30 years ago) I was seated next to  a woman who held on to her hold-all, as if her life depended on it. Which it actually did. I could of course not help myself and had to ask, what on earth do you carry in that bag? She was more than willing to show and tell, as this was the kit her father had told her would take her anywhere and through every situation. Band Aid, sweater, books – I could have guessed those. Then came a big serious looking knife. I edged away but had to see the rest, out came an enormous coil of heavy-duty rope. Your hotel could catch fire you know, she said. I sort of left her alone after that.

Old street, Cambridge UK, april 2012

Old street, Cambridge UK, april 2012

She comes back to me every time I pack for traveling though, as a reminder of the words of Confucius. You can not escape from yourself. Not that I want to. It is just that it easy to forget our part in what we are going away from. Everything will not turn out OK somewhere else, the lessons I still have to learn in life will pop up again and again. The wonderful thing with going away is that even if we are given the same lessons, it is as if they are reframed. Life is a wise teacher, when the student does not understand the task or the lesson, she does not repeat the lesson just as she framed it the first time. She gives another example, another way of putting it, another hint of what it is all about.

Biking at Nantucket, June 2012

Biking at Nantucket, June 2012

And then, like in school, even if I do understand the task, even if I know I have to do it, I just need a break, to look at it all from a distance. I am still there though. Even if I carry less and less physical stuff as the years go by, I now and then stop and ask myself what emotional luggage I carry. I know some are essential and allows me to engage with the people I meet. I also know some of my hangups that keeps me back from relying to much of others. If I do not trust at home, I will be even more distrustful abroad, if I am not able to make friends at home, there is no reason why I should do it anywhere else.

Stone steps, Oppdal, Norway september 2012

Stone steps, Oppdal, Norway september 2012

There could be added extracurricular lessons abroad, the challenges and hardships I never meet at home, it will still be me who have to face it though. It is like a scientific experiment, trying to isolate the different factors to know what really reacts on what. As to travel, I am the constant, the essence of life’s challenges are the same, the environment the big X. Come to think of it, that’s what I love about traveling, no matter where I go, I am still there.

Indiana, October 2012

Indiana, October 2012

Second thoughts

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bare trærIn Norway every holiday has its second day, a great invention. It used to be a necessity, churches were far apart and ministers were few and each minister was serving many congregations.Then the minister had to travel and services in the far out places were long between, some places only at the holidays, and then on the second, third, fourth day. This still lingers on, now the second days are part of the regulated vacation days and everyone wants to keep them, even if the ministers often have the day off now a days.
bare marker A second day, that is a wonderful tool for getting back on track.Not quite holiday, not quite workday. Try it, even if they are not in the official calendar! Do not rush into your normal schedule, as schedules tend to get in the way of real life they need to be tweaked and pruned ever so often. Most of us live a life where we have to establish time for reflections and transition, our surroundings expect us to be ready for totally different tasks without changing gears.I think that attitude has its root in considering man a tool or a piece of machinery, ready to be used for whatever purpose.

vinstokker
If man is indeed part of nature the most elementary knowledge about life is that there is a season to everything, that growing and maturing has to come before bearing fruit. Second days are the perfect opportunity for second thoughts. Not necessarily radically new thoughts, but a chance to stop and to think. Instead of rushing from bustling celebration to hectic workday schedule, take time to let the joy of the holiday settle and take root in your heart so that your life will be richer.

kale

Come to think of it, while we know that time is what makes good fruit in a simple tree, one could be forgiven for thinking we value the fruits of our life to be of lesser value than an apple. Why else do we demand instant results and rewards, why else do we not take time for the reflection that combines knowledge and experience, wisdom and love into fruits worth sharing?