Weekly Roundup 41: Spirals

The spiral is one of the most beautiful and most common shapes in nature, ranging in size and scope from galaxies such as our Milky Way down to the famous double-helix of DNA. You might see a spiral in a sunflower, a pinecone, a snail shell, the curl of a pea sprout or a chameleon's tail.

Yet when people talk about spiraling, it's almost always negative. Spiraling into depression, chaos, anxiety. Feeling less able to cope with life's stressors. Feeling out-of-control, dragged down as if by the vortex of a whirlpool (another of nature's spirals). 

I predict that the days between now and the upcoming presidential election will cause many of us to feel the pull of the downward spiral. These are such deeply unsettling times. So let me take this opportunity to remind us all that life is about opposites, which means there is also an upward spiral.

The psychological power of the upward spiral, where positive emotions lead to positive change, is well established. Researchers are finding that it often doesn't take a huge effort to turn a negative mindset into a more helpful one. If you need a boost, please read this post from my favorite joy blogger about the power of the upward spiral. 

Take some time over the next few weeks to seek out the people, activities, and experiences that feel uplifting to you. Humor almost always helps. So do chocolate, cinnamon tea, and scents such as citrus, pine, and rose. Self-care is paramount these days, my friends, so please take time to prioritize your physical and emotional health.

See you next week!

Weekly Roundup 21: June is for Joy

2024 has felt hectic, with some fun stuff but also some stressful stuff. On more than one occasion, I told myself that come June, things would slow down and get easier. And now that June is here, I'm trying to make it happen. 

One thing I want to focus on this month is finding something to be joyful about every day. In 2020, I blogged about my Joy Project based on Ingrid Fetell Lee's book Joyful. But a lot has happened since 2020, am I right? So I need a little bit of a joy refresher. A joy bump. A jolt of joy. Something like that.

June is a wonderful month for joy, mostly because the outdoors is so wonderful. Not to cold, not too hot, lots of things are blooming, and the grasshoppers haven't yet eaten everything down to the stem. Now that school is out for the summer, I see neighborhood kids heading to and from the pool. Baby ducks swim in the canal, people get married. 

So far, I have been joyful about seeing a hummingbird at my flowers, the baby evergreen trees that unexpectedly germinated in my backyard, the Netflix show Girls5Eva, tiny toad tadpoles, and watching my husband rescue two garter snakes from the neighbor's pond.

All month long, I'll be keeping my eye out for joyful things, and I'm also going to revisit the book to see where else I can jumpstart joy in June. 

Have a joyful week! See you next Wednesday!

Weekly Roundup 4: Correspondence

 

The long month of January winds down today! I think I've appreciated the slow pace more than usual this year. But I'll still be happy when spring comes.

Correspondence: I was browsing through the library and came across the newly released Remembrance - Selected Correspondence of Ray Bradbury. Bradbury has always been one of my favorite authors. He was a very prolific writer of fiction, poetry, and screenplays, and apparently letters, too. The book, which I've just started, includes letters written from Bradbury's teen years into his 90s. There are a lot of authors and editors, but also family members, friends, political figures, etc. Here's an excerpt from a letter written to the Republican party in November, 1952, that feels all too relevant today:

"I have seen too much fear in a country that has no right to be afraid. I have seen too many campaigns...won on the issue of fear itself, and not on the facts. I do not want to hear any more of this claptrap and nonsense from you. ... I do not want any more lies, any more prejudice, any more smears."

But back to correspondence. I use and appreciate technology every day, but that doesn't mean I don't miss things that fall by the wayside. Case in point, handwritten letters. I appreciate them for their historical importance--my husband has family letters dating back to World War I--and for their glimpse into a particular person's mind on a particular day in a particular place. The handwriting, the paper and ink, the stamps, they all preserve a moment in time. A few years ago, my sister and I started exchanging letters. We write one letter on alternating months, so we each send and receive six letters a year. And I still get excited when I see her envelope in my mailbox. 

Thankfully, the internet has plenty of information on letter writing groups and societies for anyone who wants their correspondence to include more than texts, chats, and emails.

Candlelight dinners: Ingrid Fetell Lee is a designer, author, and expert on the aesthetics of joy. Her latest newsletter had a blurb about her 3-year-old son asking if they could light candles at dinner. It reminded me that we used to do the same thing when my boys were young. Even though I got tired of sweeping up little bits of broken wax picked off by busy fingers night after night, we all loved having dinner by candlelight. Even though the flames are small, the light and warmth bring people together in a special way.

I hope January treated you well! See you in February!

My Writer Word of the Year

Dog discipline (Also: not my dog)

Every year, the members of my writing critique group each choose a word to guide us through the coming 12 months. Last year, as you may know, my word was Joy. My sister gifted me with the book Joyful, by Ingrid Fetell Lee, and I used it to inspire me through what I called Joy Project 2020. It was a good word for a tough year, and I very much appreciated being reminded to seek joy in my home, work, and relationships.  

On Wednesday, my critique group met via Zoom to discuss our words for 2021. The list included submit, thrive, open, close, and a couple that are still under consideration. In the past, I've chosen feel-good words such as joy and actionable words such as engage. This year, my word is discipline. 

I'll delve a little deeper in future posts, but the big reason I chose discipline for 2021 is that I've realized how frequently my bad habits get in my way. If someone else thwarted me as often as I thwart myself, I'd be none too happy. And yet, I let myself off the hook time and again.

So, I'm setting out into this brave new year with the dual goals of weakening bad habits and strengthening good ones. I'm sure it will be an ongoing process, and if you have any suggestions for success, leave a comment! I think I will need all the help I can get.

I hope your new year is off to a satisfactory start!

Joy Project: Celebration

Celebration is the perfect chapter for this time of year, though it is a foregone conclusion that our holiday celebrations will look much different in 2020. American Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and most people I know have scaled back, or even eliminated, their traditional gatherings. Travel, especially by public means, is highly discouraged. 

Local holiday ale party from a few years ago

My mother is in an at-risk population, so she will not be joining us for only the second time in I don't remember how long. My sister lives in Washington State, where restrictions have recently tightened, and she will not be able to gather with her friends. I fear Christmas will be very much the same. 

But I firmly believe that anyone with the physical and emotional energy to do so should find reasons to celebrate as this year winds down. It helps us forge and strengthen connections, even in these socially distant times. Celebratory emotions such as joy are highly contagious and much healthier to spread than a certain coronavirus that continues to plague us. 

In Joyful, Ingrid Fetell Lee offers suggestions for fostering a celebratory mood, including:

• Festive attire
• Music
• Song and dance
• Color and motion
• Things that sparkle, flare, or burst

And guess what? This is the perfect time of year to find all those things! Even 2020 can't keep us from donning ugly sweaters, hanging lights and sparkly decorations, and dancing around the kitchen singing "Jingle Bell Rock."

Please take time in the coming weeks to unplug from the news, make popcorn and hot cocoa, watch cheesy holiday specials, and drive around looking at lights. Find celebratory moments whenever and wherever you can.

Thursday, I will eat turkey and pumpkin pie and celebrate gratitude with my husband, sons, and dog. And as soon as the leftovers are put away, I'm leaning hard into the Christmas season. 

Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends. Stay safe and well, everyone!

 

Joy Project: Magic

This was a fun chapter to read this time of year, because who doesn't want to believe in magic at Halloween? Kids are open to magic any time, but (with the exception of Harry Potter) adults often see it as frivolous. Impractical. We might call it superstition or fantasy and leave the pure wonderment of it to the young ones who still believe in the Tooth Fairy. 

(To be fair, there's a pretty strong cultural component, as magic is seen as very real and very potent in many Caribbean, African, and Asian countries. And Icelanders are pretty forthcoming about their belief in elves and hidden people.)

As Ingrid Fetell Lee points out, for many of us, magic is most accessible in the transformation of the mundane into something joyful and fleeting. Rainbows and fireflies and beautiful patterns of ice on a winter window--courtesy of Jack Frost, no doubt. It might seem difficult to replicate these things in our day-to-day environment--after all, magic is also elusive. For this, Ingrid turns to the play of light off of prisms, mirrors, and anything iridescent. 

Some years ago, I found this doorway divider on clearance at Target:

As soon as I saw it, I knew I wanted it hanging on the wall. Made of shell, the squares catch and subtly reflect the light, which often reminds me of a glistening stream. When the window is open, the squares clink against each other like a wind chime. It is right in my line of vision as I come down the stairs, and I never get tired of it. Before reading this chapter, I hadn't thought of it as magical, but now I do.

I hope you have something magical in store for you this weekend. The moon will be full, and that's a good start. Have a safe and healthy Halloween!

 

Joy Project: Transcendence

Hello! Before we jump into the next chapter of Joyful, I'll continue the theme of the last post by confessing a weird joyful surprise my husband and I share. I don't remember how it started, but we hide this novelty severed finger for each other to find. 

It might show up in a coat pocket or a drawer, usually some place we don't frequently check. I know, it's completely strange, but it cracks me up every time. 

So...

Moving on to the topic of transcendence. Definitions of the verb transcend include to surpass and to go beyond, but for many of us, it also means to rise above. Accordingly, Ingrid Fetell Lee poses the question, "Why is it that our emotions seem to lie along a vertical axis?" Joyous things feel light and uplifting, somber things feel heavy and low. 

The effect can be pronounced when we are physically raised off the ground, as in a treehouse or a skyscraper, but even just looking up can feel transcendent. Hot air balloons, bubbles, and clouds all have a visual lightness that results in a positive emotional payoff. 

Human beings enjoy looking up. So why don't we do it more often? Sadly, as Ingrid points out, we're often looking down at our phones--to the point that walking into obstacles while doing so has become commonplace. And most homes aren't exactly cathedral-like in their dimensions.

Though my house is a modest size, I am lucky to have a few big windows and a high ceiling on the main floor, which impart a feeling of lightness. But my writing space is in the basement, with no window nearby, and I certainly wouldn't mind bringing some transcendence to that area. 

Ingrid suggests low furniture, tall plants, vertical stripes, and long curtains to accentuate the height of a room. Maybe someday I will get creative like that. But for a quick fix, I did two things. I brought in a tall plant, which I conveniently had at my disposal, and swiveled one light fixture on my floor lamp so it points upward. These tweaks took about two minutes, and I'll let you know if they make a difference. 

I hope October is treating you well! See you next time!

 

Fingers crossed that my magic plant helps me
transcend mediocre writing!

Joy Project: Surprise

Hello! Thanks for checking in on the latest joy project installment! Chapter 6 of Joyful was a fun one, because I love to be (pleasantly) surprised. To me, that means nothing overdone, awkward, potentially embarrassing, or scary. It's as simple as catching a glimpse of the unexpected (like these painted stair risers), finding a laugh in something dull, or the serendipity of being in the right place at the right time. Keep the lavish parties; I'm happy with a coupon for a free appetizer.

I was surprised (hah!) to learn that psychologist Paul Ekman identifies surprise as one of the six primary emotions. Its purpose, writes Ingrid, is "to quickly redirect our attention." From an evolutionary perspective, that is an advantage because a surprise could signify an oncoming threat or opportunity. Joyful surprises, which hopefully those early humans also experienced, "promote upward spirals of positive emotion." I love that image, because we so often think of spirals as a descent.

Even in infancy, humans are pretty adept at recognizing things that look or sound different. To our benefit, artists of all kinds understand the value of sensory surprises. Perhaps you've heard of yarnbombing, also known as knitted graffiti, which livens up an environment with fun color and texture. Painted rocks with inspirational messages and designs have popped up all over my neighborhood during the pandemic. And I love hearing little snippets of music wafting through the air, even if it is just a kid practicing trombone. 

Yarnbombed light post

The trick is working surprise into our lives without becoming predictable. This is where the "hide-and-reveal" comes in handy. More on that next time!

Shape of Play Update

In my last post, I mentioned the idea that the most playful shapes for humans-and some other animals, too--are circles and spheres. I haven't done much in the way of decorating tweaks since then, though I really meant to get some round throw pillows. But here are the small, plant-based ways I've added spheres and circles to my life:

Marimo moss balls:

Goldfish plant in a bowl:

Air plant habitat:

String-of-pearls succulent:

And this moss terrarium:

My history of plant care is a little spotty, so it's a good thing these are all fairly low-maintenance. Because the least joyful shape for a plant is, well, dead.

I hope you're having a good week, and I'll see you soon!

Joy Project: Freedom

Photo credit: Nathan Sundstedt

Whew, April's Blogging from A to Z Challenge set me a little behind schedule, but I don't want to let this month go by without posting about the third chapter in the book Joyful. This chapter's aesthetic is Freedom, which is a complex ideal right now as many of us are feeling physically, socially, and psychologically confined by the coronavirus pandemic. But in some cases, those restrictions are actually opening up our lives in unanticipated ways.

Ingrid writes that "Joy thrives on the alleviation of constraints," which seems completely at odds with the increase in constraints we are all experiencing. I'm finding personally, however, that some of those constraints are balancing out. Yes, I have to work from home, but I can do it without business casual. No, my husband and I can't take the beach vacation we planned, but we can use that time and money to make long-needed improvements to our landscaping. And if no one has been to the supermarket in a while and we don't have much to cook for a meal, we all just fend for ourselves.

Much of the Freedom aesthetic doesn't have to do with coming and going. It's really about the feeling of freedom that comes from removing or mitigating obstacles that block us. That could be as simple as rehoming a piece of furniture that doesn't quite work or stepping away from your technology for a while.

But the best freedom is found by going outside in nature, or bringing nature in. Research shows that people living with more access to green spaces have less stress and more contentment. Workers who sit near windows report better health and job satisfaction. Even the humble houseplant can make us feel happier. Walking about in the forest, aka forest bathing, improves immune function and has been a public-health initiative in Japan since 1992.

We humans are deeply connected to nature down to the molecular level. So I encourage you during this unsettled time to experience and appreciate nature as often as you can--at a safe social distance, of course, and taking all appropriate precautions. Get a houseplant and give it a name. Plant some seeds and flowers. Victory gardens are a thing again--although in all honesty, mine will likely be more of an uneasy truce.

Be well, everyone! Find some joy today!

 

Meet Jeffrey

A to Z Joy: Reflections 2020

First of all, congratulations to anyone who jumped into the Blogging from A to Z Challenge this year. 2020 is challenging us in so many ways even without a solid month of posting in the middle of a pandemic. So if you even gave it a try, pat yourself on the back.

I was happy with my theme, as thinking about the little things that bring me joy helped get my mind off of the news, which, as we know, is more bad than good this spring. I did a fair job of staying ahead of the alphabet and tried to keep my posts short enough for a quick read.

What I did not do well was visit an abundance of other blogs. I found some fun ones I visited regularly, and I found many whose posts were so lengthy, I just didn't have the patience. That makes me feel bad, because I know the work that goes into it. Mea culpa, I'm chalking it up to my general short attention span this year. Also, if your comment form is hard to find or in any way difficult, I probably skipped it. I did make sure I reciprocated every comment left on my posts, but unfortunately not every blogger did the same.

All in all, things seemed a little tired in the A to Z world compared to years past. Again, a sign of the times. The good news is that even though April is in the books, we're still out there blogging! And I plan to use the master list to continue to look for new blogs I enjoy.

Thank you to everyone who visited! Stay safe and well, and I hope you'll stop by again soon.

A to Z Joy: Zephyr

Not sure what's going on with those legs...

We get a lot of wind in Colorado, which I don't love, but a zephyr is different. A gentle breeze from the west, it gets its name from Zephyros, the Greek god of the west wind. He ushered in springtime by melting snow and bringing warm rains for the trees and flowers.

A zephyr takes the bite out of the winter air and promises blooming crocus and forsythia. It comes as the days are slowly getting longer and any continuing snowfall disappears much more quickly than in the frigid months of January and February. It is the perfect middle between the cold gales and hot gusts that we are so accustomed to.

Zephyranthes flower

(Back in the day before the Colorado Rockies were born, Denver had a minor league baseball team called the Zephyrs. Baseball...remember that? *sigh*)

Anyway, my wish is that this year's spring zephyrs act as positive winds of change, bringing us a kinder, gentler period after the tough few months we've had so far in 2020.

Thanks to all of you who visited during A to Z. I hope my posts brought a bit of joy to your day, and I look forward to seeing you around the internet!

Oh, and here's a taste of what winds can be like in Northern Colorado:

A to Z Joy: Yellowstone National Park

Established in 1872 by President Ulysses S. Grant, Yellowstone National Park is one of my favorite roadtrip stops in recent memory. We spent only a day there, and I'd love to go back and spend much longer. It is a large National Park, with tons to see and do. Because it's basically located in a volcanic crater, geothermal features abound: bubbling mud pots and geysers and mineral-rich water in otherwordly colors. Everywhere I turned, I saw something that amazed me. And because we visited in October, we missed the hordes of summer tourists.

Thanks to my husband for the pictures!

Tomorrow is the last day of the A to Z Challenge! We're almost there!

A to Z Joy: Xanadu...Homes, That Is

Last spring, my husband and I had a quick road trip getaway weekend in Taos, New Mexico. One of the local sights we visited is the Earthship development.

In the 1970s, Architect Michael Reynolds developed his "biotecture" designs for passive solar homes built of natural and upcycled materials. Empty glass bottles, dirt-filled tires, and many quirky design elements make the homes look like something from a sci-fi desert planet. The concept is still going strong, with Earthship homes all over the world.

One alternative housing project from the same era which didn't fare so well was the Xanadu Home of the Future. The homes were built with polyurethane insulation foam, which allowed for cost-effective construction. Repeated spraying of the quick-drying material onto a large, dome-shaped balloon produced a five-to-six-inch-thick shell within a few hours.

The architecture emphasized ergonomics, usability, and energy efficiency. But what made them most different from the Earthships is that they were also the first automated, computer-controlled "smart homes."

In many ways, the Xanadu homes, of which only three were built, were ahead of their time. Office spaces envisioned integrating work with home life (sound familiar, anyone?). The "electronic dietitian" in the kitchen planned balanced meals, which could be prepared at a preset time. The walls of the family room were covered with television monitors. All of the fifteen rooms (including the health spa) relied heavily on computers and electronics.

Kissimmee, Florida, 1990 (Wikipedia)

So, why are we all not living in these awesome Xanadu future-homes? The technology, controlled by Commodore microcomputers, very quickly became obsolete. Interest in the homes peaked in the 1980s, and by 1996, only one of the three homes remained as a tourist attraction in Kissimmee, Florida. It was torn down in 2005.

I'm sorry I never had a chance to live the Jetson lifestyle in a Xanadu home, but maybe this is one of those ideas that will come around again. If so, sign me up for Xanadu 2.0.

A to Z Joy: Whales

This may be strange for someone growing up in a land-locked state like Colorado, but I've always been fond of whales. From their whiskery chins to their iconic tail flukes, these giant marine mammals fascinate me.

Whales are divided into two groups based on their physiology for feeding: baleen (the strainers) and toothed (the grabbers). The current tally for whale species is 41. (Orcas are not considered true whales but belong to the same family as dolphins.) At almost 20 pounds/9 kilograms, sperm whales have the largest brains on earth--six times heavier than the average human brain.

Narwhals, the so-called Unicorn of the Sea, are super interesting. The spiral tusk is actually an elongated canine tooth, which can be 10 feet long and have up to 10 million nerve endings inside.

I always assumed the name "narwhal" had something to do with the tusk, but the word comes from Old Norse and means "corpse whale," because their color resembles the skin of a drowned sailor. Lovely, right?

Many species of whales communicate by songs, which are not "built-in" like mating calls but must be learned. The longest and most complex songs belong to the male humpbacks. According to whales.org,

Their songs are beautiful, complex, and ever-evolving. Their songs can last for up to 30 minutes and feature various themes sung in a sequence that is common to all males in the same breeding area that year. The sounds they sing span 7 octaves, nearly the entire range of a piano. During the winter mating season, they repeat their songs over and over for hours at a time and gradually change them as the breeding season progresses. Each year a new song is produced.

Here's a short clip to help you chill out on a Monday: