To Write

Pens and pencils lying still 

do not dream of words they 

will write. Quiet til an empty 

page is to be filled. When a 

hand reaches out for a pen or 

a pencil to write the truth, 

    to write of other worlds, 

      to write a Christmas card, 

        to write a grocery list or 

       to doodle a clown’s face

“A pen is to me as a beak is to a hen.”

~ J.R.R.Tolkien

Hammer and Nails - A Rant

Scammers make me crazy. They are invisible ghosts, floating through wireless waves, poking their ghostly noses into anyone’s computer without regard. I admit: it is frightening. I’ve had one encounter in the past with a scammer that caught me. This one has frightened me and is just plain annoying. And rude. That snake that invades my wi-fi home - and if you’re listening out there - ‘does your mother know you do this’?! (a quote from a friend).

So how to combat the fear, fury and impatience that build up waiting for a fix: Hammer and Nails. My writing desk has needed fixing for the longest time. Finding the right sized nails, a hammer, screwdrivers to tighten up its aging joints was the start. But the solid tapping of the nails settled my rattled emotions. Then I moved furniture to put a cap on the whole mess. 

By the way - I didn’t get caught in their money grab, just the ride of their emotional rollercoaster.

“The fraudster’s greatest liability is the certainty 

that the fraud is too clever to be detected.”

~ Louis J. Freeh

Listening: The Human Factor

This little essay is about writing and reading, two of my favourite pastimes. When I’ve written and posted a Book Review without listening to our book club’s discussion, I find I have more difficulty with organizing my thoughts. This despite reading book reviews on line. Those reviews are very helpful, giving me different perspectives to consider. Discussion among friends is somehow different. Maybe it’s just the laughter, coffee and goodies that are marvellous accompaniments! But somehow I don’t think so. In this world of instant everything, we have access to many, many opinions, online chats, information, various forms of markets and games. What is not immediately accessible is the human contact of….you guessed it….laughter, coffee and goodies. The human dynamic that is the joy of listening and learning about books we read, the movies we go to, a shopping experience or a weekly walk with friends. As I write I see that this little essay is about more than just writing and reading, but about the human experience that touches all of our five senses, as well as our sense of spirit. 

But neither is technology a bad thing. This laptop, cold to touch, holds the photo of my great granddaughter on the screen. It  fills me with a glorious cheer, reminding me of her soft little hand touching my wrinkly old face. My pen, with black ink, and my journal, with soft cover and lined pages, are mere objects. Yet when my hand takes them up each morning, I enter a private space for exploration into my thoughts, ideas, worries, solutions and sometimes even a to do list. Then I take some bit of my writing to the electronics of my laptop and onto my blog site at Standing Still Slowly. To write in my journal or on this electronic page for even a grocery list I have had to listen. To listen to myself and the ideas and experience of others. We can allow technology to disconnect us in annoyance, or use it as the useful tool it is meant to be. Whether electronic or good old fashioned pen and paper, they are all useful tools for writing, for reading and maintaining human connections. By the way, I was introduced to my present walking group, book group and a circle of new friends from an online search many years ago.

Listening is a human factor felt through all of our senses infusing our hearts and spirits with the context of life. Our surface intellect tends to censor what has been heard, sometimes with too much evaluation. When listening is as invisible as the electronics of this computer, the details will be at our fingertips in whatever we do.

“Writing too, is 90% listening. You listen so deeply to the space around you

 that it fills you up, and when you write, it pours out of you.”

~ Natalie Goldberg,  Writing Down the Bones (pg.58)

Dad's Old Trowel

Dad's Old Trowel

The trowel was old. Scratched and worn from years of digging deeply into hard scrabble soil, rich loamy soil or soil so filled with rocks it sharpened the edges of the blade every time it was used. Matt remembered the day his dad brought it home. It had a green painted handle and a shiny shovel end - he learned to call it by its proper name. A blade, much tinier than his dad’s big shovel that he used to dig the big holes. He had no idea why he had kept this old and rusted tool in with the rest of his garden tools. Matt often used it. The shape of its blade was not one of the many modern shapes, but wide enough to start a good sized hole for the spring time tomato plants. His dad’s trowel did have a depth gauge on the back. Matt was standing on a stool beside him on his workbench the day his dad scratched all the levels and inches on the back of it. He was curious, because it looked like he was damaging that shiny surface, and all the kids had been told never to damage any tools. To keep them as much in their new condition as possible. Here he was going against the rules he had laid down. Patiently, he explained that he wanted to measure the depth of a hole for particular plants. His dad said he could have driven back into town for one that already had neat engraving, but that would take too much time and a few more dollars. He had wanted to get planting.

Well, it wasn’t spring time and his tomatoes were ripening nicely. The old trowel had grabbed his attention. He kind of compared it to wanting to dig deeply for a work project that had been assigned to him. But how deeply, he had yet to figure out. Matt had no gauge like the one on the back of the trowel. He certainly couldn’t go out to the garden and dig out all the information he needed. Matt pushed back the wide brimmed straw hat he always wore in the sun. Like his dad, he pulled out a big red kerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. Well-worn blue jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off, his garden ‘uniform’.Taking the trowel with him, he decided that he may not be able to dig up any answers, but thick weeds choking out some of his garden needed rearranging. A big swig of water refreshed him. Hot sun, butterflies and birds beckoned. Work needed to stay at work. He needed to get outside and dig some real soil.

“To forget how to dig the earth and to tend the soil is to forget ourselves.”

~ Mahatma Gandhi

Routine Variations

Never varying except when

  ~ a new routine would work better

 ~  an emergency calls

 ~  more tools (or playthings) 

     are absolutely necessary

 ~  a vision goes from 

     foggy haze to bright mirage

OR - and this is important

 ~ a side-trip with friends,

    just for fun, is on the calendar!

“I have called this principle, by which each slight variation, 

if useful, is preserved, by the term of Natural Selection.”

~ Charles Darwin

Warming

when the cold goes to the bone

deep into the bone

when the body shivers and shakes

only controlled by will

there is no medicine like

The Blanket Warmer

in nursing I’ve used many tools

to care for

to ease pains,

especially for those in opiate withdrawal

there is no medicine like

The Blanket Warmer

stacks of clean flannel blankets

tucked behind a silver door

temperature set to warm

till the soft fuzzy blankets absorb the heat

becoming the magic medicine from

The Blanket Warmer

wrapping the one shivering cold and helpless

in the soft kind warmth 

a visible softness smiles on the face

while eyes close peacefully

arms pull warmth close, grateful for

The Blanket Warmer

“Hope is like yeast, you know, rising under warmth.”

~ Leif Enger, Peace Like a River

Tools for Rest and Relaxation

Spontaneous adventures

are the best tools for

loosening knotted nerves

feeling sunshine and wind

stretching overworked muscles

satisfying long lost longings.

“We become what we behold. We shape our tools, 

and thereafter our tools shape us.”

~ Marshall McLuhan

"Good on ya!" Victoria Athletic Club

Each year the Victoria Athletic Club, holds a Christmas Party for all the members and has a draw for several valuable door prizes. (Three of the draws are for Thai massage - I didn’t win any!) On top of that, they collect donations in food or dollars from each of us to go to the Mustard Seed Society here in Victoria, in a genuine spirit of giving. 

Attending tonight’s party was, for me, stepping out of my comfort zone. First, I went on my own, assuming with my fingers crossed that some of my Aquafit class would be there. Secondly, I was tempted to stay at home, which is what I too often do to keep myself small and away from the world. 

My cynical, or maybe realistic, side says ‘What a marketing tool!’ and I suppose that this party and all it’s accoutrements is a fair bit of shrewd marketing.

But my more caring side says ‘Good on ya’! The mounds and bags of donated food stuffs that were loaded on one of the large carts that carry the luggage of tourists and travellers will be welcomed at the tables of many in this city that can’t just go to the store as frequently as many of us - or maybe not at all.

The community of exercisers and swimmers, practitioners of yoga and Pilates, was a community I hadn’t seen in anything but spandex swimsuits and sweat stained t-shirts or track suits. Here we were - all dressed up for this lovely evening of great prizes, lots of conversation and laughter, good food, a variety of beverages and an opportunity for gift giving.

“It takes each of us to make a difference for all of us.”

~ Jackie Mutcheson

Epilepsy Adjustments

Pharmaceuticals ~

Tools to trade 

unruly movement

for some predictability

It's Only a Tool

This blog theme has made clear to me that, while money is used on a daily basis, it is as ordinary as having any other tool. Put away when we don’t need it, taken out when we do. Now not everyone has a tool box full of tools. Those that do, have different sizes of tool boxes. Fascinating are the great big red ones on wheels, with all manner of little drawers and cubby holes. Then there’s small tool kits, like my grey one that I keep close at hand in the kitchen. Tools for basic fix-it jobs are in there ~ a hammer, different sizes of screw drivers, a hand saw, some wrenches and many little bits of things. The great large ones just have more of the same, or they may be for some specialty jobs ~ especially for car fix-its. 

Money then, buys more tools for home and living. Sadly, there are some who have little access to the money tools ~ some who have not paid attention when they were cautioned about spending and saving habits (blush); and some who, through no fault of their own must spend and earn what is available to them. These folks really do learn to be creative and very resourceful, using everything they have to it’s greatest advantage.

(An aside ~ Some folks want to borrow, share or just take other's tools.  Lesson ~ Caution in lending is wise.)

“A determined soul will do more with a rusty monkey wrench

than a loafer will accomplish with all the tools in a machine shop.”

~ Robert Hughes

Anticipation ~ 1

Hot, sweet, creamy coffee.

Last tasty drop drained and drunk.

Paper rim rolled up in anticipation.

‘Thanks for playing’

‘Sorry - not this time’

‘Come back again’

Playing the game 

gambling on a win

fun for a time ~

anticipation has a short shelf life

But as a marketing tool over a cup of coffee with friends ~

money changed hands effectively.

Marketing isn’t magic. There’s a science to it.

~ Dan Zarrella

Transferable Skills ~ 1

Transfers ~

strips of paper allowing transfer 

bus to bus

decals that transfer a picture from 

paper to skin

Skills ~

abilities to 

think

be 

do

In our compartmentalized world

there seems to be a misguided belief that 

when we leave one area of life for another

there is a 

separation

there should be 

dismissal

Leaving school ~

book learning comes with us.

But what about

how we studied

how well we played with others

Leaving home and family for

the adult world with different responsibilities, 

we take family rules and mores with us.

but what about

how we ate and slept

how we participated in community

Leaving one job for another job

our resumes precede us.

But what about 

our personally crafted work ethic

how well we worked with others

Our experiences may be 

compartments or chapters

but each individual is filled with 

outcomes of trial and error.

A veritable tool shed of 

transferable skills that can

support us in any phase of our life.

“If animals play, this is because play is useful in 

the struggle for survival; because play practices 

and so perfects the skills needed in adult life”

~ Susanna Miller