Weekly Roundup 40: Magnetism

Magnetism has long been recognized as a physical phenomenon produced by the movement of electric charges. (It's also what keeps our souvenirs stuck on the refrigerator.)

In the 18th century, the idea of "animal magnetism" suggested that all living things possessed an invisible force or fluid consisting of "fire, air and spirit," which flowed in and out of our pores and affected health and healing. 

Pseudoscience was big in those days, and of course that idea has since been debunked. Later, animal magnetism took on a different meaning, that of an irresistible charm or appeal, especially sex appeal. 

Generally speaking, I think most of us outside of physics class see magnetism as the act of being drawn toward something or someone with a certain appeal. Music, art, a personality, an experience, these things can all be very compelling.

The other side of magnetism is the opposite of attraction: repulsion. When two like magnetic poles are brought close enough together, they will push each other away.

Though we may welcome attraction into our lives, it's a different case with repulsion. Yet, sometimes it is present--not so much in a "gag me, that is so gross" kind of way, but more like a "why do things keep getting in my way?" kind of way.  

If you've been in that position, as I am now, the position of feeling like you can't get the poles to line up, you have my sympathy. It's a frustrating place to be, and it takes a lot of patience to work toward realignment. 

But it is possible. If the Earth's magnetic poles can undergo a geomagnetic reversal, there's certainly hope for those of us who function on a much smaller scale.

I hope you attract great things this week!

Weekly Roundup 39: A Month By Any Other Name

October was the eighth month in the ancient Roman calendar, which explains the "octo" in its name. After Julius Caesar added January and February, October was pushed down to the tenth spot, but it was not renamed. (The same kind of fate befell November and December.)

But October is definitely the best month name to portmanteau.

Here are some October riffs on my radar. (Please note, many of these already exist out there in the world, and I claim absolutely no affiliation with any of them. This is my personal list only.)

Walktober: weather permitting, I'll get out as much as possible

Croctober: we have no crocodiles here, and I don't own any of the shoes, so I'll stick to slow cooker recipes

Socktober: gotta keep my feet warm

Spocktober: I do like Star Trek

Mocktober: a non-alcoholic cocktail perhaps?

Bachtober: J.S. Bach's Toccata & Fugue in D Minor is a Halloween classic 

Rocktober: I saw Jeff Lynne's ELO in concert and spied more painted rocks

Hawktober, Flocktober, Squawktober: bring on the birds! (And maybe Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.)

These are some things I will not try:

Shocktober: I don't like to be startled, horrified, or appalled

Frocktober: no frilly dresses for me

Mocktober (of a different kind): ridiculing someone is not a good look

Lochtober: no plans to be in Scotland

I hope you're having fun with whatever makes you smile this month. See you next week!

Weekly Roundup 38: Detours

 

Summer is road construction season of course, and this year my neighborhood has been affected more than usual. The way in and out has either been closed, restricted, or rerouted for weeks. So I've had to take some detours.

The word detour (from the French detourner, meaning to turn away) has a few definitions that basically mean the same thing: a roundabout way or deviation from a direct way; a circuitous way or course, especially when the main road is closed; a temporary route made to avoid a problem.

That last one is my favorite, because I feel that I have set myself on some personal detours of avoidance this year.

So I have to remind myself that although a dead end might require a detour, a detour itself is not a dead end. It's just a different way to get where I'm going. It's usually slower, but sometimes slowing down is not a bad thing. Neither is learning to navigate a different route between point A and point B.

And when the detour is removed, there's real joy in getting back on track. I hope to be there soon.

Happy October! See you next week.

Weekly Roundup 37: Banned Books Week

 

Weekly Roundup 36: Turning the Corner

Well, hello there, middle of September. Where did you come from so quickly?

I recently saw September described as a month to turn the corner, and that feels so fitting. Summer might still linger, but we're preparing to leave it behind and face the arrival of autumn and winter.

The idiom "turn the corner" refers to a situation that improves after a difficult period, but that doesn't quite describe this September feeling. This is more like the combination of a fond goodbye and a welcoming hello--appreciating the last gifts of summer while we anticipate the rest of the gifts the year has to offer.

Honestly, I am ready to turn the corner on a few things: gardening, the heat, mosquitoes and grasshoppers, and the pressure of my summer to-do list. The weeks between now and Halloween offer some really nice moments for pausing and breathing and slowing down. I'm planning on enjoying soup, candles, sweaters, and hopefully more sleep very soon. 

Leading up to the fall equinox on Saturday the 22nd, September's full harvest-super-blood-moon last night coincided with a partial lunar eclipse. Under a magical celestial glow, this week feels like the perfect time to approach the turning of the corner with gratitude for what was and enthusiasm for what will be. 

See you in autumn, pumpkin spice fans!

Weekly Roundup 35: Pollination

From the linden tree that blooms in the spring to the summer's bee balm to the last sunflower of autumn, I have a fair number of bees buzzing around my yard all season. I'm not a master gardener, but I steer clear of pesticides and in general try to have a suitable oasis where the bees can get about their business of pollination.

In very simple terms, pollination is the transfer of pollen within and between flowers, which allows for fertilization and production of the plant's fruit or seed. Bees, birds, bats, butterflies, beetles, moths, and even the wind are part of the process. It is so critical to food production, from large-scale agriculture to small garden plots like mine, that the State of Colorado passed legislation this year to protect pollinating insects and their habitats. 

So, for many plants, nothing comes to fruition without pollination.

Bear with me as I try tie this in to writing.

I have a partially completed manuscript I've been trying to get back to for months. When people ask me if I'm writing, I think about that neglected WIP and feel guilty when I say, no, not really, I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, been busy with other things, I'm stuck, etc. (All these things are true, by the way, but not great excuses.)  

I'm so grateful for people who care about me and my writing. And it occurred to me the other day that every time someone asks me, it's almost as if...here it comes...each question is like a friendly bee buzzing around me, pollinating my creativity, doing its part to nudge me closer to fruition.

Too much of a stretch? Probably.   

But I think it's working.  

A big thank you to all the literal and metaphorical pollinators in my life! See you all next week.

Weekly Roundup 34: Labors of Love

Labor Day was Monday, and here's a big shout-out to all the workers at every level who keep this world turning. When I think of how many people are involved in the basic needs and functions of daily life--from running water to high-speed internet, from agriculture to the convenience store on the corner--I'm astounded. And grateful!

I also want to recognize another type of work: the labor of love. Merriam-Webster defines it as "a labor voluntarily undertaken or performed without consideration of any benefit or reward." That doesn't feel quite accurate, as benefits and rewards can come in many forms. 

I prefer this definition from Dictionary.com: "work done for the sake of one's own enjoyment or benefit to others rather than for material rewards." A labor of love also might be considered an avocation or hobby, as opposed to a vocation which (hopefully) pays the bills. But I think it goes deeper than a hobby. A calling, maybe?

Labors of love also keep the world turning, or at the very least make it more a interesting place. So here's to all the painters and ballroom dancers and novelists and gardeners and poets and parkour athletes and needlepointers and fiddle players and cartoonists and everyone else doing what we do for the love of it.

See you next week!