Unplugging Balance

Work has been slow lately for a variety of reasons both economic and personal and I’ve struggled to get used to what I’m realizing is actually work life balance. For the past 10 years, I’ve had jobs where I’d come home from work, eat dinner, and then logon and go right back to work to finish up the bits and pieces that didn’t get done during the day. Sometimes the work would be something my boss needed urgently, but mostly it was things I needed to concentrate on and as most people know work is not a very conducive environment for actually working.

The first few weeks living this way were kind of weird as I left work and then didn’t know what to do with myself as I was used to going home and working for several more hours to try to get the work done. Now, I come home and I can actually have a life. I go for walks with my daughter, read the books I want to read, work on my blog, and work on the prep work for the new business I’m starting.

Part of me feels guilty as if I’m not giving my employer its due because I’m not working 12 or 15 hour days, but the rest of me is breathing deep breaths and enjoying balance. I’m realizing that balance isn’t something most modern day office workers understand anymore. Back in the good old days 15 or 20 years ago, work ended when you left the building because once the door clicked shut behind you, you had no way to access your work.

Modern day “conveniences” have changed all of that and we’re now on call 24 hours a day. Sometimes being on call is boss-enforced, like when an important project is going live over the weekend, but all too often it is self-imposed. I know sometimes I let myself get trapped into thinking that if I don’t answer an email that comes in at 9 pm that the world is going to explode. The last few weeks have taught me that answering that email at 9 pm just perpetuates the 24 /7 work week as we end up playing a game of hot potato with the email because no one wants to be the one to leave it unanswered for more than a few minutes.

My most pathetic and stupid experience came when I was driving 90 miles an hour down the expressway to get to my daddy’s deathbed and I was reading emails on my blackberry as I was driving. How incredibly stupid, self absorbed, and selfish was that? I could have ended up killing myself on my way to visit my parents because I had to answer some dumb email about master data. Is that what anyone would call a meaningful death? I think not.

Although that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in the line of work, there’ve been quite a few times when I ducked into the bathroom to check my email during a party, a trip to the zoo, or another family event. I’ve taken conference calls in the car on the way to the museum, answered emails on Christmas day, and a whole host of other things that I’m not real proud of. Looking back, I realize that those electronic excesses had more to do with my own ego and feeling like I had to be a hero than about any real work related reason. If I hadn’t been available, the people on the ground would have made the best decision possible and we would have dealt with the impact when I got back. The world would not have come to the end if I hadn’t answered those calls or emails.

I hate to admit it, but it’s been almost pleasant to not get hundreds of emails a day. I’ve had time to spend time with my family and connect with the people who are really important to me and who’ll be there for me whether or not I answer their emails right away.

I’m learning that balance brings its own kind of bliss as I take time to dig up recipes that take more than 5 minutes to cool, cuddle with the dog, and write about things I want to write about versus what my boss wants me to write about. I’m thinking everyone needs to turn off the crackberry once in a while, put the lid down, and live in the world instead of the little electronic boxes that sometimes rule our world.

Hunting Bliss

Much has been written about women and the thrill of the hunt. The hunter/gather gene has been passed down through the eons from mother to daughter and each new generation has claimed her favorite hunting grounds. In days of yore, the hunting grounds were lush pastures and green vales, but for most modern day women the thrill of the hunt takes them to Niemann, Sax, and even Walmart. Those places hold no appeal for me as they’re much like hunting in a petting zoo. All the goods are laid out in front of you and you have your choice of the same style in multitudes of color. I prefer the more difficult quarry to be had in resale shops, second hand stores, and thrift stores. I proudly proclaim that my bounty comes from Goodwill.

This past Saturday, I gathered my weapons (i.e. credit cards) and headed out for the hunt. First stop was the little resale shop by Fantastic Sam’s. The store is a clean freak’s nightmare as it is packed to the raffles with all kinds of treasures from purses, to games, to high quality clothes. I scored some wonderful candle holders that normally retail for $10 to $15 bucks for less than a dollar a piece and some adorable costume jewelry to dress up my work outfits.

Next stop was Wings, a local resale shop whose profits go to help homeless women and children. I love shopping at Wings because I always find a few nice pieces to compliment those I have at home. This time they were selling brand new Liz Claiborne pants for $3 bucks a pair. Needless to say I bought several pairs as well as a gorgeous red jacket that looks wonderful with the new lace blouse I got at Dress Barn (also on sale).

I have to admit I’m a book worm and all too often I’m guilty of paying $7 for the newest paperback because I’m desperate for something to read. Lucky for me there’s an awesome little bookstore called Top Shelf books in Palatine that sells an eclectic mix of books for great prices. Wandering through the store I never know if I’m going to find the latest thriller, a great cookbook, or a good biography to read. Today was no exception and I walked out with a bag full of books that will keep me busy for a good long time.

The Goodwill of my childhood was a dirty, grungy place that we occasionally frequented, but rarely as the clothes were not first quality and the customers were even more questionable. Fortunately for me, the Goodwill of today is more designer boutique than back alley thrift store. Our local Goodwill’s pride themselves on having top quality clothing and even brag about the deals their customers score like the time a woman bought a pair of manolo blahnik for $5 bucks. Alas, I didn’t find any steals like that on my foray to Goodwill, but I did find some nice blazers and a few blouses. My daughter also bought her entire back to school wardrobe at Goodwill. I don’t force her to shop second hand, but she likes it because it makes her money go farther.

My day of retail therapy was done and like most women I had a few regrets about spending more than I had planned, but my regrets added up to $20 and not the hundreds of dollars that some women regret spending. I was also left with a deep feeling of blissful satisfaction at having saved money, helped save the environment by limiting my purchases of new stuff, and helped other people by frequenting stores that give back to those less fortunate. All in all, how much more blissful can it get?

Compassionate Bliss

Unfortunately for the people I love and those around me, I am one of the most impatient people on the planet and I get easily irritated when people take too long, when they disappoint me, or when I’m under stress and just generally in a bad mood. This has always been one of my weaknesses and something I’m trying hard to tame so that I can enjoy smoother relationships with those around me.

One of the most successful techniques I’m using recently is a technique I learned from the book “Ten Zen Seconds.” You find a phrase and slow your breathing down so that as you take a five second deep breath in you say the first part of the phrase and as you exhale you say the second part of the phrase. There are many good phrases in the book and you are encouraged to come up with your own. I tried “I am blissful” for a while, but it didn’t seem to work for me as it seemed too forced as if I was expecting results without doing the work.

The phrase I’ve found that works much better for me in stressful situations and brings me to a deep place of bliss is “I am compassionate.” Every time I find myself getting irritated and out of sorts, I take deep breaths and breathe “I am compassionate.” It is amazing the deep feeling of calm and bliss that encompasses me at this reminder to be compassionate. What I’ve also found is that this forces me to think about the other person’s point of view and see things through their eyes. Once I’ve done that, it’s very hard to go back and feel irritated again.

I was in the resale shop the other day and there are very few clothes available for larger women and there was a woman just standing in front of the one rack that had the clothes I wanted to look at. I tried wandering around the store and coming back, but even after perusing the rest of the store, she was still there and I found myself getting more and more irritated that she was right where I wanted to be. I finally started taking deep breaths and reminding myself that I am compassionate. It took a few minutes before the feeling of compassion sunk in, but then I started realizing that she was in the same place that I was: not being able to fit into “normal size” clothes, not wanting to spend tons of money on clothes, and wanting to look nice. The compassion finally took hold and I was able to smile at her and to feel real compassion.

Compassion is also not something I feel easily when people chatter on and on about things I really don’t care about and unfortunately, my 17 year old daughter often talks about her favorite bands, people at school, and other subjects that I don’t find scintillating. We’ve had a number of blowups lately because I got irritated with her chatter and asked her to be quiet. Being the sensitive sort that she is—and the fact that I probably didn’t ask too nicely—led to her feelings being hurt. I carried the irritation with her and my guilt over hurting her feelings into the next several hours until I remembered to breathe my compassion and as I started my deep breathing I was able to put myself in her shoes and realize that she wasn’t sharing everything with me to irritate me or to annoy me, she genuinely wanted to share what was going on in her life with me and maybe get some advice. Once I realized that, I was able to feel compassion for what I’d once viewed as really irritating behavior.

However, that led to my feeling a lot of guilt and beating myself up over my own feelings of having been less than kind to my daughter. Deep breaths and more compassion helped me to realize that I needed to exercise compassion towards myself as well as others and I was able to take a step back and see that I was feeling stressed out about my job (my company has been undergoing a lot of RIFs), my inability to quickly find a new job, and the feeling that there was always too much month at the end of the paycheck. Once I was able to realize what was really causing my irritation and stress, I was able to show compassion to myself as well.

Compassion is also something you need to feel for those who may have done you wrong. My boss and I are like oil and water and add in the fact that she is a very inexperienced manager who has no skills when it comes to managing overachievers and it is a very combustible situation. It lead to a pretty nasty blowup a few weeks ago, but once the situation had cleared and she set up a meeting to discuss it, I was able to breathe deeply and feel compassion for her and the situation that she is in.

One thing I’ve learned is that feeling compassion doesn’t invalidate my own feelings. I still have the right to be angry, irritated, and to my own opinions. What compassion does is let me see someone else’s point of view and realize that they really aren’t trying to irritate me, they’re trying to express themselves the best way they know how and that sometimes I need to get beyond the words and the behavior that is irritating me and realize that they are people too and that maybe we can find common ground.

So what exactly is compassionate bliss? It is the deep feeling of bliss that comes from exercising compassion for your fellow man. For seeing them as a fellow traveler on the road of life who might need a helping hand or someone to listen. There is a deep sense of satisfaction and bliss from getting out of yourself and becoming part of the larger world.

Raining Bliss

There’s something magickal about the rain because even though the physics of rain are always the same–condensation being released from the clouds–rain has many different moods. There is the soft, warm rain of a summer evening that’s like a lover’s caress; there’s the angry, howling rain of thunderstorms, there’s the cold rain that chills your very bones, and then there’s the soft sprinkle that teases you with a few drops here and there. My mother nicknamed me Rainey when I was little as a derivative of Lorraine and the name fits as I’ve always loved a good rain.

Snuggling up under a blanket and watching the rain pour down has to be one of the most sublimely comforting experiences in the world. It was raining this morning and I snuggled down into the blankets and listened for a while before the alarm went off. The rhythmic pounding of the rain on the windows sent my mind wandering as I thought about other rainstorms and about the power the weather still has over us in this modern era.

Living on Okinawa, we were subject to the whims of the weather gods and at least three times a year, a typhoon would hit the island and we’d have to batten down the hatches and stay indoors for a few days. I loved typhoons as there was such a sense of wonderment in watching the clouds twist and turn and listening to the rain and the wind. I always felt safe nestled in my little concrete house built to withstand ‘phoons. We’d snuggle up on the couch, watch old movies, and listen to the rain and the wind howl around us. When the eye of the storm passed over us, we’d go outside and stand in the deathly still looking up at the clouds and waiting for the storm to start again. The eye of the storm is one of the most magickal places on earth as you’re surrounded on all sides by the wild force of nature, yet the one place you’re standing is still. I’ve been outside when the typhoon started up again and all of a sudden the winds whipped from zero degrees to 140 miles per hour and the sheer force of the storm is awe inspiring to feel.

Typhoons aren’t the forte of the Midwest, but the flat praries have their own wild weather. We live in an area that is prone to tornadoes and the weather right before a tornado can have its own deathly magick. Several years ago we were living in central Illinois and a hellacious thunderstorm kicked up its heels. I stood outside on the porch and watched the water and wind whip around in a symphony of destruction. My husband tried to pull me in the house, but I was mesmerized by the fireworks of nature. Funnel clouds formed and danced close to the earth before retracting into the clouds. The storm was one of the most destructive of the year, but all I could think about was the wild beauty swirling around me.

Another memorable trip to Asia inspired the plea for bliss that I wrote about in my very first blog entry. Although I’m sure my traveling companions didn’t think the day was so magickal, in fact most of them wanted to leave a lot earlier than we did, I thought a day spent touring ancient China in the rain was very magical. There was something wonderous about seeing pagodas and other ancient structures through the haze of rain and the rain inspired us to seek shelter in a tea house along with other folks seeking shelter and there was something cozy about sitting in the dilapated structure watching the rain fall down around us.

Gene Kelly wasn’t the only one who liked dancing in the rain. There’s something liberating and creative about dancing through the puddles in a warm summer rain. The air feels magickly charged (probably all the negative ions) and with every rain drop, the energy flows through you and you feel alive with all the possibilities the world has to offer.

The world feels so clean and new after a good rain as if it alive with all the possiblities that life has to offer. There is nothing quite so blissful as life after a good rain.

Inspiring Bliss

Heroes are all around us and sometimes inspiration finds us where we least expect it. My son, my mom, and my daughter are all inspiring me to change my life in positive ways right now because they have all taken an honest look at themselves and are doing something to change.

My nineteen year old son is a true inspiration to me because he’s realized he has a problem with his weight and he’s doing something to change it. Unfortunately for Sean he inherieted my metabolism which means he can look at chocolate and gain weight. However, he realized that he needed to make a change and lose weight so he’s been walking the mile from work to the train station every evening and he’s been paying attention to what he eats. He goes shopping every week and picks out healthy foods for his lunch. He packs his lunch every day and he’s been working really hard at cutting out soda. I don’t know if he’s actually lost weight yet, but he is looking better and has more energy.

Mom is another hero of mine. Since losing my dad last November, she’s started working hard at losing weight and getting in shape. She’s been walking two to three miles every day and she’s lost about 40 lbs in eight months without doing a lot of dieting. This is especially inspiring because my mom has been heavy my entire life and she’s tried everything from hypnosis to stomach stapling to lose weight. I was out at her place last weekend and she showed me some of the hills she walks up and down and I was amazed that she was able to walk as far as she does. She told me that she’s making it a priority because now she doesn’t have any excuses like someone else to cook for or to take care of so she has made losing weight a priority.

Caitlin has absolutely no weight to lose because she was fortunate and inherieted her dad’s metabolism and not mine. She inspires me for a different reason because she’s taking saxaphone lessons and she practices every single day for a couple of hours. She started out sounding scratchy and out of tune, but after only a month’s worth of lessons she’s reached a point where we can understand what she’s trying to play and she’s working hard to teach herself to play by ear. I’m insipred to invest the time in what I want because I’m seeing the joy that investing in herself has brought Caitlin.

I’ve noticed that since I’ve seen the inspirational behavior of my family, that I’ve been trying hard to emulate their behavior in my own life and to quit making excuses for eating too much or not exercising. Since Sean has started reading labels and trying to make healthier food choices, I’ve found myself cooking at home more often and trying to make healthy food choices for dinner instead of stopping by the nearest fast food restaurant for dinner. I don’t yet have the stamina to walk several miles a day, but I’ve been trying to be more active and at least take short walks on a regular basis and to park farther away.

These are all small changes and none of them will change the world, but what my heroes have taught me is that it isn’t about changing the world, it is about changing yourself.

Buying Bliss

Bliss has become a product, like deodorant or shoes, for marketer’s to hawk from the nearest street corner or Website. All these products proclaim that if you purchase their products you’ll experience nirvana. A quick trip around the web revealed the following sites offering bliss for bucks.

The first site Google found was BlissWorld. Bliss World started as a real world spa and evolved into an online site selling fitness shoes, overpriced body products, and more. They say their ” passion is passing that ‘glow-how’ on to you.” Although I firmly believe that a good massage can bring you bliss, I don’t believe that a $29 bottle of body butter can bring you anymore bliss than the $5 bottle from TJ Maxx. Bliss rating 2.0 out of 5.0 as it’s hard to give a 0 to any company that offers massages.

Bliss Weddings was created by a couple who’d just gotten married to help other companies achieve “the state at which every couple works hard to achieve in their marriage. A feeling of total happiness and harmony.” The site offers a ton of advice on weddings and although it does include commercial links, the overall site is bliss inspiring and I’d give it a 4.5 on the bliss-o-meter.

If you’re traveling through Clifton, NJ you’ll be able to take a trip to the Bliss Lounge. From the pictures on the Website, it looks like an overdone nightclub with meet market tendancies. My personal experience is that bliss isn’t to be found in places like this because it’s all about keeping up appearances and impressing the opposite sex, which isn’t a recipe for bliss. 0.0 on the bliss-o-meter.

Bliss.com appears to be a real estate valuation company selling products to help appraisers valuate homes. At first blush I was going to give them a negative score because using bliss to sell real estate valuation is just crass. However, digging into the site I realized that the company is called Bliss because it was founded by George Bliss, so I’m going to have to give them a 5.0 on the bliss-o-meter because is nothing more blissful than being true to yourself.

The last blissful site I traveled to was Hershey’s Bliss and this is the most blissful site of all because even though they’re commercializing bliss, you can’t really argue with the fact that really good chocolate does elicit a blissful state and almost everyone can afford to buy their taste of bliss when it’s going for under a buck a bar. I especially love their tagline “Bliss is everywhere, you just have to unwrap it.” How can you argue with that? Bliss chocolate gets a 5.0 on the bliss o-meter.

I have to be honest and say that when I set out to write an article about buying bliss, my intention was to decry the commercialization of bliss and point out that real bliss has to come from inside, but as I explored the Web and the Blissful sites out there, I realized that maybe there were some sites and products that really could help you achieve bliss. I also realized I’d be hypocritical if I gave low marks to sites selling massages and chocolate when some of my own most blissful experiences have come from indulging in those very same products.

Writing this article was one of those weirdly blissful experiences that come from humility. I realized that my arrogant attitude that bliss couldn’t be purchased wasn’t entirely accurate. Bliss can be purchased, but like everything it has to be buyer beware because purchasing a product won’t make you entirely blissful unless you approach it with the right attitude and enjoy it in moderation. For instance, one Hershey’s Bliss can inspire a wonderful feeling, but eating 10 will give you a stomach ache and intense guilt about all the calories you just consumed.

Fish Bliss

Growing up in the Midwest, there was no way I could escape being a meat and potatoes kinda girl. The meat of choice was beef and the only time we had fish was when we went to Missouri and indulged in fried catfish. We didn’t eat out that often and and when we did it was family restaurants that served the same kind of food we ate at home. The one memorable fish experience I had growing up was after my first semester at college when my dad took me out for lobster saying that everyone had to have lobster at least once in their life.

When I was 23 and working for the Air Force Audit Agency and word came from headquarters that my transfer to Okinawa, Japan had been approved, my coworkers took me out for sushi to celebrate. It was the first time I’d ever heard of sushi and when I discovered it was mostly raw fish, I grimaced and tried it, but quickly retreated into the safer realm of tempura.

I discovered lots of amazing foods during my three years in Japan, but still never fell in love with sushi. Teppan yaki thrilled me for both its flavor and the showmanship of the chefs who made cooking over a hot grill an art form with their running commentary, thrown eggs, and artfully sliced veggies. I’d never been a big fan of squash until I discovered tempura and I was amazed at how wonderful the humble vegetable could taste when battered and fried. Then there was Mongolian. I still remember the first time I had Mongolian at the officer’s club on Guam. There was something about picking your own veggies and meats for stir fry and then watching them cooked on the big grill that made them taste amazing. Our favorite Mongolian place on Okinawa was this wonderful restaurant called Genghis Khan that had a waterfall in the window. However, the lure of sushi still escaped me. I went out with coworkers a few times and stuck with the shrimp sushi, which was cooked so I considered it safe.

Sushi and I didn’t cross paths again until last year when a team came from Japan to review the status of my project and they took us out for sushi. Apparently they’d been warned ahead of time that I wasn’t very adventuresome when it came to food so one of my Japanese co-workers ordered me a steak so that I would have something to eat. It was a little embarrassing to be the only one at the table not eating sushi, but the embarrassment still wasn’t enough to convince me to try sushi again.

It was a comment by my boss and a trip to Miami that convinced me that maybe there was something to this raw fish thing. My boss made the comment that I played it safe when it came to food and that ticked me off just enough to make me want to prove to him that I wasn’t a culinary clod. Seafood abounds in Miami and it was there I discovered cerviche. Cerviche is raw fish that has been “cooked” in lemon juice. It has the most amazingly delicate flavor and I realized that if cerviche was this good, maybe I should give sushi another try.

I dabbled in sushi for about six months, periodically testing the waters to see if I really liked it or I just liked the idea of having a sophisticated palate. It was during a trip to Chattanooga a few weeks ago that I realized I really did like some aspects of sushi. A really good friend of mine from our Memphis facility had gone out for sushi the day before with some coworkers from Miami and was raving about how good it was and how she wanted to go out for sushi again. We packed up the van and headed to another sushi restaurant to indulge. There was something about her enthusiasm that made me want to really explore sushi. It also helped that our Latin American friends were very knowledgeable about sushi and were able to order things they thought we’d liked. We ended up eating our way through two sushi boats and then some and I came away with a deeper appreciation for sushi. I also learned that sushi doesn’t necessarily mean raw fish. Sushi actually refers to vinegar rice topped with other ingredients and since that trip I’ve been exploring various types of sushi.

Since I came home from Chattanooga, I’ve been craving sushi and heading out to Sushi Station at least once a week for lunch. The cool thing about Sushi Station is that they are a rotating Sushi bar that lets you see what the various rolls look like before you purchase them. My favorite is Philadelphia rolls (cream cheese, salmon, and avocado) and I’m not sure what it is about that combination that makes them so yummy, but I seem to crave Philadelphia rolls.

One thing I’ve noticed since I’ve been eating more sushi is that I seem to have more energy and am feeling better. That makes sense since even Philadelphia rolls are fairly low in calories and both salmon and avocado are good for you. I also think fondly of my friend from Memphis every time I eat sushi and maybe that’s part of the reason I enjoy it so much.

Roasting Bliss

Summer brings to mind long ago summers where my family would spend a week traveling through the countryside and camping out in state or national forests or local campgrounds. We’d usually spend three or four nights camping and then spend one night in a motel to clean up and reconnect with civilization.

There is something magickal about sitting around a campfire out in the woods watching the stars and the fireflies. Campfires seem to invite sharing stories and wisdom and we did a little of both around our fires. Camping also seems to create communities of strangers as kids and parents let down their guard and get to know the folks at the next campsite. I remember shared meals where we’d each cook our own meals and then sit together to commune about where we’d been and where we were going.
There always seemed to be marshmallows at those campfires and in the days before fancy storebought roasting forks, the kids would be sent out into the woods to find sticks that were perfect for roasting marshmallows. The perfect stick was thick at the bottom and thin, but not too thin, at the top. A stick that was too thin at the top would dump your marshmallow into the fire and one that was too thick would leave you with a marshmallow that tasted like wood.
Then there was the great debate about brown or black. Some folks kept their marshmallows far from the flame and turned them slowly so their marshmallows turned a beautiful amber. Then there were those of us who plunged our marsmallows deep into the center of the fire and ended up with a charred black nugget that had a sweet crispy coating and a creamy melted center. I’ve always been a burnt marshmallow type of gal and I’m not sure exactly what that says about my character. I choose to think that it means I’m brave and courageous and jump into the thick of the fire and then enjoy a sweet reward.
Campfires aren’t the only way to roast marshmallows and I remember when I was about ten sneaking out of bed to get a treat and finding my dad holding a fork over the flame of our gas stove roasting a hotdog. A little light bulb went on over my head and I realized that the flame of our gas stove would be a perfect place to burn (I mean roast) marshmallows. My dad indulged me and let me roast my marshmallows over the stove, but made me promise to never do it when he wasn’t around and to never tell mom. It’s funny, but the small flame on the stove invited the same types of conversations that roasting marshmallows around a bonfire did and my dad and I talked about work, about school, and about life.
At forty plus, I’m not quite ready to break out the sleeping bag and head out to the hills to camp, but I do miss the confidences and magick of campfires. Fortunately, I do have a gas stove, a bag of marshmallows, and some forks and believe it or not, it still conjures the same magick of those long ago campfires and makes me realize that sometimes the simplest things like burning food over a fire really are the best.

Bliss Mountain

I’ve spent quite a bit of the last month traveling, but the best traveling was the three days my daughter and I spent wandering around the South. I spent a week in South Carolina for work and she flew down to Atlanta to meet me. We had no set agenda, except to see the sites and enjoy each other’s company.
Her flight landed right on time and I was thrilled to see my so-grown up daughter get off the plane. Even though she is 17 and has flown several times before, I was so nervous about all the things that could go wrong between when her dad put her on the plane in Chicago and I picked her up in Atlanta that I breathed a deep sigh of relief when I saw her get off the plane.
We started our adventure with a trip to the Pendergrass Flea Market, which bills itself as Georgia’s Largest and the World’s Largest Flea Market. I can’t speak for it being the largest, but it was certainly a change for a girl who grew up believing flea markets were grungy affairs where people sold left overs out of the back of their trucks. There was an amazing array of goods at the Pendergrass Flea Market from necklaces to pigs. We spent a relaxing hour or so looking at stuff we didn’t need before we decided to head on our way.
I’d given Caitlin the option of mountains or the ocean and she chose the mountains. We headed north toward North Carolina. As we passed through the tip of South Carolina, we decided to stop at Oconee Station to see what was there. Deep in the SC woods we found a small ranger’s station and two old buildings. One had been a house in prior days and the other an outpost. Although it was a beautifully sunny day, there seemed to be a chill in the air when we stepped into the dwellings and it was as if the ghosts of the past were speaking to us and urging us never to forget the atrocities that had taken place in the peaceful hills of the South.
As we were about to leave the station, we saw a sign for the Station Cove Falls. Inquiring at the guard station we were told the falls were an easy 30 minute walk. The hike was easy for my very in shape daughter, but very out of shape me struggled with the ups and downs of the mountain hills. Caitlin walked ahead and it took me over an hour to catch up with her and by then she was walking back from the falls because she’d gotten worried about me. She told me that once I got there I would have to walk down and over hills and she advised me to turn around because she could see I was already pretty worn out. I heeded her advice and started walking back, dreading the long and hilly walk back. However, my sweet and brave daughter knew I was physically exhausted and dehydrated and she walked all the way back and got the car and then met me at a way post. I was so proud of her because even though she is 17, she doesn’t have her license and has less than 10 hours experience behind the wheel. She explained to me that she drove very slowly and watched the road carefully. I’m just glad this happened in the backwoods of South Carolina and not downtown Chicago.
After this adventure, we stopped at a fruit stand and bought some of the best nectarines and blackberries we’d ever had and called that lunch. We spent the next few hours driving through the mountains and talking about life, college, and a host of other things. It was refreshing to listen to my daughter talk about her goals and realize that her dad and I had done a pretty good job raising her. We stopped for dinner at a quaint little restaurant overlooking some falls. I had trout and Cat had what she declared was the best veggie lasagna that she’d ever had.
We also stopped by a little shop selling crafts from local artisans and we bought some beautiful glass jewelry. After we left though, Cat and I talked and we both realized that we’d gotten a really bad vibe from the lady running the store as if she was taking advantage of the local artists. Neither of us is sure why we felt that, but it was interesting that we both had the same feeling.
We rolled into Asheville, NC around 8 pm and there wasn’t a hotel room to be had unless we were willing to pay $150 a night, which we weren’t. I pulled into the parking lot of the local Chik-a-filet and started surfing the net and making calls to find us a room. I finally found one in Greenville, SC so we got back on the road and drove for another hour before bedding down. I spent some time before we headed to bed figuring out where we’d be the next two nights and making reservations so that we didn’t hear “no room at the inn” again.
Breakfast the next morning was a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts. The Krispy Kreme by us closed about six months ago so we were both ready for our donut fix. Driving around Greenville we came upon this beautiful park built around a waterfall. There was a magnificent suspension bridge and an amazing park full of people running, playing, and enjoying life. We got out and spent some time enjoying the serenity before we headed north to Asheville and the Blue Ridge Parkway.
The Blue Ridge Parkway is known as “America’s Favorite Drive and I can see how it got that name. It is an incredibly beautiful parkway through the Blue Ridge Mountains. We drove up mountains, down mountains, and through tunnels all the while enjoying some sweet bluegrass music and the amazing scenery. The first hour or so we stopped at every scenic overlook to take pictures, but then we realized we’d never get to Johnson City, TN if we kept stopping so we vowed to only stop when we got to the top of the mountain. Mount Mitchell was definitely worth stopping for as it is the highest peak east of the Mississippi. I felt as if I could see forever. We made Johnson City by 6:30 pm and after a meal at Caitlin’s favorite restaurant, Waffle House, we turned in early so we could drive back to Atlanta the next day.
Our last day in the South we spent driving through TN, NC, SC, and GA. We got to the hotel by 7 and after a quick meal, Caitlin turned in and I went to return the rental car. All too soon our journey was over and it was time to return to the mundane world of work, bills, and the like, but I know I will always carry memories of this special trip in my heart as I felt like I had three wonderful days with my daughter outside the bounds of everyday life. I’ve always loved my daughter, but in those three days I learned what an incredible, independent, vivacious, and wonderful young woman she really is.

Nose to the Bliss

I’m not a clean freak by any stretch of the imagination, but I love the smell of cleaning supplies and the deeply blissful feeling that comes from walking into a clean and organized house. Unfortunately, since I’m not super wealthy, the only way I get to experience the bliss of a clean house is by putting my nose to the grindstone and cleaning it myself.

Along the way, I’ve learned that playing good jazz or blues while cleaning helps make the experience a little more pleasurable. Washing dishes while smooth jazz washes over your soul is an experience that can’t be beat. I love the feeling of the soapy water on my hands as I scrub my dishes and listen to the beat. It isn’t quite as wondrous as the feeling that comes from a good massage, but it’s close.

Clearing physical clutter also helps me clear the clutter from my brain. I’ve found that as I sort through and discard the physical things that no longer belong in my world, I create a space that lets me get rid of the mental clutter that’s holding me back. A clean house gives me space to think and to breathe and to make good decisions.

Clean sheets is another one of those not-so-guilty pleasures that I love to indulge in. There is nothing quite like slipping between crisp, cool, sheets. It makes me sleep better and when I awaken in the morning, I love to stretch out and feel the crispness.

Creativity and clutter used to be inexplicably connected in my mind and I didn’t think it would be possible to be creative unless I was mired in clutter. I’ve since learned that clutter actually detracts from my creativity and makes me feel anxious and disconnected from my creativity. It is much easier to write when I’m sitting in front of my computer surrounded by calm. Then my creativity has space to come alive.

I will never be a white gloved maven of cleanliness, but I’ve learned over the years that there is a joy and pleasure in cleaning your space to create a haven for yourself and your thoughts.