Retreat

On New Year’s Day 2009, I went on retreat. I don’t know if the retreat itself is the story, or if it’s what led me to it.

In March 2007, I lost my job as an assistant newspaper editor in St. Marys, Georgia. I had no family nearby, a child to take care of and wasn’t even sure if I would get unemployment. My first thought was to return immediately to Buffalo, where I had a lot of family and a guaranteed roof over my head, if not the certainty of a job. Chris was set against moving there because of the cold winters, and begged me to stay in the Southeast.

I told him I would take six weeks to try and find a job in the region, and if I didn’t, I would move back to New York. Within two weeks I had a job offer in Tallahassee, Florida, for a lot more money than I was making at the newspaper. So, we picked up and moved. We were here about 18 months when Chris told me he was going to go full time Reservist in the Navy (he’s a part time Reservist), which meant he would most likely get stationed far away and didn’t want to continue the relationship. I hadn’t gone out much in the time we’d lived here, and really had no one I could call “friend” in the entire city. Moving was not an option unless I found a new job beforehand.

So, here I was, more than 1,000 miles away from “home” with no one to turn to if I needed someone. I started getting out more and more, and did meet some wonderful people. But besides the loneliness, I also had to face the demise of a three-year relationship with a man I loved and somehow move on in a positive way.

One day, I went for a walk. I walked around Lake Ella (a park I’ve mentioned many times). On the bulletin board, I saw a flier for a meditative retreat. I put the Web site in my cell phone and thought it over for a few days before biting the bullet and signing up.

(©2009 Renee M. Liss)

I think that retreat was a bit of a lifesaver for me. It was all women. We talked, meditated and collaged. I was so excited after that I went straight to Wal-Mart for a frame, which hangs now above my desk at work. On my collage are a lot of animals (lion, cats, elephants, dogs, penguins and a dolphin), beautiful National Geographic photographs of nature in faraway places, a view of Tuscany, photos of outer space and many other inspiring cut-outs.

The idea behind the New Year’s collage is that somehow it will guide me this year down the path on which I am intended to be. I think, though, that I am guiding myself and the collage itself is just an instrument with which to focus my thoughts and goals.

Some of the words I cut out and pasted: goddess, create it, timeless grace, recharge, where do you want to be?, taking risks, what would you take to the new world? and expression. I don’t know if I will accomplish what I have in mind by December 31, 2009, but I am certainly trying.

But more than my focus, at that retreat I learned about the church in which it was held. I attended services a few times. I’ve been very bad about going for several months now, mostly because it is a Christian church and my spiritual beliefs do not run that way. But I did meet some wonderful people there and participated in some events. I hosted appetizers for the church’s Progressive Dinner and spent Easter Sunday at the home of one of the members who hosted an open house for people who don’t have anywhere else to go (or who just wanted to participate in the camaraderie). And at that retreat, I met Leslee. She is also a writer – she’s written two novels in 18 months. Speaking to her about her work, my work, our mutual goals has inspired me.

She started a blog a few months ago, and that was what inspired me to start one of my own. When I wasn’t going to show it to most people, I chose her as one of a few whose feedback I wanted.

In the end, Chris never left and we’re working on our relationship. It’s a long, uphill battle, but we’re limping along. And I have a small circle of friends who I enjoy spending time with, even if it is limited.

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Buy me a present?

If anyone out there loves me so very much that he or she feels an overwhelming desire to buy me a present and just cannot help him or herself, I want this dress.

Size 6 should do, but I might be able to fit an 8. Thanks! 😉

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Two days off

When I started this blog, the purpose was to write something every day. For about two weeks, I did so religiously. This past weekend, I took some time off from it – just two days.

I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want to have to think or spend more time than necessary in front of a computer. But today, I’m back at it and find myself lacking in a topic of interest to write about. I attribute this to extreme fatigue. I woke up this morning feeling as though I hadn’t slept last night, and I’m not sure why.

So, I will use this space today to talk about my weekend and what I did, just to get something on the page.

Friday, I grocery shopped right after work and did a load of laundry, but not much else. I worked out that morning, so I didn’t need to in the evening and I just didn’t feel like doing anything that took more effort than sitting on the couch. I did have a very long telephone conversation with my friend Beth and found out that my oldest friend is engaged for the third time. It will only be her second marriage, however.

What’s unusual about the engagement is the way I learned about it: a Facebook announcement. I must say that I found that particular form of communication, while efficient, a bit impersonal. Our parents are friends, so we have known each other since she was 3 months old and I was 20 months old. I don’t remember not knowing her. She’s one of those people you know will always be in your life, no matter what, even when it seems to the world that you have nothing in common with each other. We did later exchange text messages and she called me on Saturday, so I feel better about that.

Saturday was hot. And I mean H.O.T. hot. But it was sunny and I got an 1,100-calorie-burning workout completed fairly early, so I put on a cute sundress and headed out to the little arts market that’s held in downtown Tallahassee every Saturday except in what passes for winter in Florida. It didn’t take long to walk through it and look at every booth. For sale were paintings, sculpture, glassworks, locally-grown produce, handmade jewelry and many other things. The local animal shelter always has a booth there, too, with kittens and puppies “on display” to let people know in a very up close and personal way that there are homeless animals in desperate need of adoption in this community: http://www.lchs.info/, http://www.talgov.com/animals/index.cfm.

From there, I went to Lake Ella, planted one of the chairs that lives in my car’s trunk in the shade of a large tree by the water and tried to read. I guess the scenery was too distracting. I think the turtles had the best seat in the “house”: just under the surface of the water with their little noses sticking up so they could breathe. The Muscovite ducks stood on the edge of the water and just stared out. I’m not sure what they were looking for.

Near where I sat, a branch of the tree hung about a foot above the water and a bird (what species, I don’t know) used it as a perch to hunt for fish. This bird perched on the branch and watched to water until an unsuspecting small fish swam by and I watched the bird dive into the water and come out with its lunch. A little boy came by and started throwing stones at the bird. I asked him why and he said he wanted to bird to fly to another part of the lake. I told him the bird was hunting fish and trying to eat. I asked the little boy how he would like it if someone threw rocks at him while he was trying to eat. He didn’t say much, but he stopped throwing the stones, crouched down next to the lake and watched the bird dive a second time and resurface with a second fish. The little boy was impressed with this.

After a while, it was too hot even with a breeze in the shade, so I left the park and went by Borders. I found a book about good and bad foods (good fats/bad fats and good carbs/bad carbs). There was nothing in the book that was new to me, but it contained some really yummy-looking recipes and was three dollars, so I bought it. I also bought a “writers’ kit” that has cards with creative writing exercise prompts and helpful information for getting published. I haven’t even opened the shrink wrap yet, but I think once I do, I will be very happy that I bought it.

At home, I washed dishes and broke four more salad plates. I have one of those metal X-shaped dish racks that doesn’t have any real support for plates. Chris has lost several plates washing dishes and always overreacts to the loss. I was kind of waiting to lose all the dishes, since the set I have is far from complete after several years. I needed an excuse to buy something new. After I cleaned up the broken plates and finished the dishes, I went to Big Lots. I bought some new dinner and salad plates (bowls are next) for $1 each. Not fancy, but pretty and useable. I also found a normal dish rack that was only six dollars. It was metal, which I like the look of much more than plastic, so I was very happy about that. I also bought paper for the printer and pens, since mine always seem to disappear.

Later on Saturday, I went to the mall because I desperately needed a new strapless bra. I am officially done buying bras from Victoria’s Secret. I’ve found cheaper and better bras at other places and no longer buy the hype. I will continue buying clothes from the clearance catalogue, though. At Macy’s, I found an adorable maxi halter dress. I took a photo of me in it yesterday, but haven’t uploaded it yet. I think I might have to exchange it, though, because I noticed yesterday that the stitching at the base of the zipper is coming apart a little. The dress was massively on sale, so it was a good buy. Once I tried it on, I couldn’t not buy it.

Finally, on Sunday, I didn’t do much. I worked out in the morning (another 1,100 calories burned), did laundry and read. Well, tried to read. I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until Chris called three hours later. My intention was to go to the mall and Kohl’s to walk around and window shop, but by the time I was ready to leave the house, I didn’t want to. After I woke up, I felt up to going out for a little while.

At Kohl’s, I bought another new strapless. This one plunges a little, so it will work with clothes the first one won’t work with and I bought a pair of denim capris that were 70 percent off. From there, I hit Target and found an adorable pair of flip-flops, which I can now wear to work and will look great with the maxi dress from Macy’s. Chris texted while I was at Target and asked me to meet him at the bar around the corner. I played my first game of pool in at least four years. It wasn’t pretty and was kind of embarrassing. I spent the rest of the evening watching Chris play, dancing to some good music, being annoyed by the R&B that someone played and I ate a very good salad instead of my planned Boca burger.

And that’s it.

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Candace Bushnell-style

Please refer to my previous post “Speedo Bicyle Man” for the context of the following:

I came into work this morning and this was stuck in one of the doors down the hall from my office:

 

On another note, I just learned how to make a link without actually posting the URL in the text.

 

I took a walk this morning (burned 513 calories before 6 a.m.!) and on the way home, saw a dead possum in the road. It scared me and also made me sad.

 

Speaking of death, the world lost both Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson yesterday. Based on the news reports, MJ was much more iconic than Farrah. In my world, that was certainly the case. I was barely born when Farrah was really famous in the 1970s. But I used to kiss a poster I had of MJ every single day when I was a kid. Of course, I got over that in recent years.

 

The picture of spaghetti on my Page-A-Day Italy calendar is very appetizing.

 

Speaking of Candace, about four years ago, I lent my copy of Sex and the City to a girl who came to the very first meeting of a writers’ group I started. I loaned it to her because her writing reminded me of that book. The girl never came to another meeting, and when I e-mailed asking about the book, she never responded. I hate people like that. And I don’t loan books anymore. Well, I might if I really, really, really trust you. Speaking of which, Jodi, do you still have The da Vinci Code? ‘Cause I did want that back.

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Empathy

Empathy
            Noun
1. The intellectual identification with or vicarious experiencing of the feelings, thoughts or attitudes of another
2. The imaginative ascribing to an object, as a natural object or work of art, feelings or attitudes present in oneself
3. Identification with and understanding of another’s situation, feelings and motives
4. The attribution of one’s own feelings to an object

Last night, I walked several miles around Lake Ella, a small lake in the middle of Tallahassee encircled by a concrete walking path. I saw two things on that walk that disturbed me greatly.

First, a little boy about 4 or 5 years old began chasing after some of the Muscovy ducks, scaring on enough that he ran into the road. The little boy’s mother was several yards behind him and didn’t seem concerned. Normally, I would never reprimand a child who did not belong to me or was not in my care, but I felt compelled to tell the boy to stop chasing the ducks. I think having a stranger scold him must have caused some shock, because he said, “OK,” and I didn’t see him bothering the ducks again.

(©2009 Renee M. Liss)

Later, I passed a man with another little boy, who was about 3 or 4. The little boy had a fishing pole and as I passed, a small fish (there are no fish in the water that one would actually take home and eat) dangled on the boy’s line as he proudly announced that he caught one. The fish fell off the line onto the hot, dry concrete and flailed around as I passed.

I almost threw up, thinking about how pointless it was to make that fish suffer and gasp for breath for no reason at all. I hoped they were going to put the fish back in the water, and decided to say something my next time around if the fish was still out of the lake. Thankfully, on my next pass, there was no sign that the fish remained on land.

I don’t blame children for being children. It’s up to the adults in their lives to teach them that all living creatures feel pain and deserve to be treated humanely. Animals are innocent. They act on instinct, but I never knew an animal of any kind that was vindictive or mean just to be mean. They are helpless against humans, and humans need to keep that in mind and pay the respect due to such a high station.

This is not the first time I’ve witnessed a child doing something wrong to an animal with a parent sitting back silently. At the Fountain of Youth in St. Augustine, there are a lot of peacocks and peahens. When I was there several years ago, there was a boy – older than the ones from Lake Ella – throwing rocks at them. His mother saw him and said nothing. She barely seemed to notice. And, yes, I spoke up that day, too.

I don’t expect anyone to read this and suddenly become vegetarian or to become an animal lover if you aren’t already. But I do hope that people will give more thought to the treatment of the animals in our midst.

And now, I will step off of my soapbox and return you to your regularly-scheduled programming.

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And it begins:

Forcing myself to concentrate on writing and stop dilly-dallying around is paying off. The goal was to write a book and I started one. This is an old idea. I’ve actually started this particular novel before, but could never quite get it right. I decided to move my old beginning to the middle and started over.

A not very good synopsis of the plot (I’m still working it out a bit, but this is a good idea of it):

A woman moves into an old house and is haunted by ghosts who actually turn out to be energy from her former life. I haven’t worked out the details yet, but it comes down to a man she was supposed to end uup with and they continue meeting each other in reincarnation after reincarnation, but can’t seem to get it right.

I’m not going to post every part of it, but wanted to get some feedback (HONEST, please — I’m not looking for accolades only, unless that is your HONEST opinion):

            “Clara? Are you OK?”

            The words shook Clara Riley out of her reverie. She hadn’t realized she was staring so long.

            “It’s so beautiful,” she whispered, to no one in particular. Probably to herself.

            “It’s a dump!” MollyAnne Tanner answered. She had been Clara’s best friend since middle school.

            They now sat in front of an ancient Victorian house in the heart of Elmira, New York’s, historic district. They were on their way to lunch when Clara slammed on the breaks and pulled up to the curb at the sight of it. Luckily, somehow, the closest car was a block behind them.

            It was true: the porch was sagging and the paint peeling. The house, with a for sale sign planted in front, needed some love from someone. Clara was already thinking that someone should be her.

            MollyAnne playfully slapped the back of Clara’s head. “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a bad idea.”

            Without taking her eyes off the house, Clara answered, “Do you want me to live with you forever?”

            “If it’s between that and you buying this money pit, then yes.”

            Clara had moved away from Elmira to go to college ten years before and intended to never return. But after years away and a bad breakup, she felt drawn to home. MollyAnne was one of very few old friends still living there, but the comfort Clara drew from the company of her best friend was enough to bring her back. A job in public relations at Elmira College practically fell into Clara’s lap and she knew that was a sign that she made the right decision.

            Clara sighed deeply, checked her mirrors, turned on her blinker and pulled back out onto Church Street, headed towards Davis Street and on to Cozy Corner. The site of the little diner reminded her of lunch with her parents as a child. During warm summer days, they would walk from their apartment on First Street and through the college campus to get there. The cheeseburgers tasted like heaven in her young mouth and she always got to pick out candy by the register before leaving.

            Clara and MollyAnne slid into a booth as a waitress brought them menus.

            “What is it about this town?” Clara wondered. The question was mostly an out-loud thought, but she somehow hoped MollyAnne could explain it. “I wanted out of here my whole life, but I always felt drawn back. Even when things were good between John and me, I thought a lot about moving back here. And I don’t even think I like it still.”

            MollyAnne sighed. “Clara, sometimes I think it’s just your fate. You tried so hard to get away, it was almost like there was something you were running from.”

            “Hmmmm …” Clara pondered the statement. MollyAnne knew her better than anyone. They’d been friend since they were babies. They were more like sisters. Regardless, Clara wasn’t going to take MollyAnne’s advice this time. She couldn’t stop thinking about that house.

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Insanity

Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. – Albert Einstein

It seems to me that we are all guilty of this at some point, or possibly through most of our lives. I wonder, then, does that mean we are all insane?

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Messages from the Other Side

I felt it across my ankles: tap tap, pause, tap tap. It was something long and straight, like a ruler or cane. It wasn’t painful, just a light tapping that was enough to wake me up.

It was 1:50 Sunday morning and before the ankle taps, I was sound asleep. I sat up, startled. In my not-quite-awake-yet state, my first thought was that Chris did it to annoy me. It’s something he would do. But Chris was sound asleep next to me.

Harry, my 18-pound black cat, was lying on the bed next to my feet, but facing the wrong way for it to have been him. I thought maybe Elizabeth, my little seal point Siamese mix, was trying to entice Harry into a middle-of-the-night romp through the house. But she was nowhere to be seen.

I spent the next I don’t even know how long unable to fall back to sleep, but afraid to open my eyes, convinced there would be a ghost in my bedroom. I also curled my legs up into the fetal position to avoid any additional ankle taps.

The next morning, I thought maybe it was just a waking dream. And then I was concerned that perhaps a family member, likely my 93-year-old grandmother, died in the night and came to say goodbye. My grandmother is alive and well, and as far as I know, no one else died.

My mother said if it were my grandmother, she would have gotten right up in my face rather than just tapping my ankles. But she also told me this: My grandfather (my mother’s father) who died in 1972 or pancreatic cancer used to tap her on the ankles to wake her up in the morning.

He died three and a half years before I was born, so I never met him. But I’ve heard many wonderful stories about him. Sunday was Father’s Day and my mother said he came to say hello in honor of the day.

This makes sense to me. I didn’t know about the ankle tapping, so there is no way I would have dreamt it with him in mind. I also hadn’t even had a thought of him in weeks.

It would be easy to dismiss the experience as a dream, but I really don’t believe it was. There was someone in my bedroom trying to get my attention. I felt someone standing over me, even though I didn’t see anyone. I’m just sorry that my reaction was one of fear. I hope that I didn’t scare him away and that someday, he returns. Next time, I’ll know.

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I Love New York (State)

I spent most of my life in New York state. Not New York City, for those who are unfamiliar with the fact that there is an entire state called New York that is not The City.

I lived in Chemung County from the day I was born until I was 22, when I moved to Amherst (a Buffalo suburb) to attend the State University of New York at Buffalo. I lived in Amherst until about a month after my 28th birthday, when I moved to southeast Georgia.

When I tell people where I’m from, first they assume I mean The City. The next assumption is that New York is nothing but snow and cold, 12 months out of the year. They also assume that outside of The City, there isn’t much about the state that’s worth their time.

But I love that state. I would love to move back, except that the economy up there is worse than much of the rest of the country, even in prosperous times, and Chris won’t live anywhere that gets that cold, even part of the year. He says he would be depressed.

I will admit that by January, February … March, the winter gets to be pretty long. Once the holidays end, there’s no more need for snow. At least, that’s my opinion. And sometimes, when I’m out for a walk or some other purpose in February and it’s sunny and warm here in Florida, I think that I really don’t ever want to live in the Northeast again.

But there is much I miss, that I can’t find here.

This is Taughannock Falls where we spent a lot of time swimming in the summer during picnics with my family and my parents' best friends. I have a scar on my middle finger on my right hand from slipping and cutting it on a sharp rock.

In my hometown and the surrounding area are the Finger Lakes, hills and valleys and tons of trees that turn beautiful colors in the fall. There are waterfalls that pour into natural pools where I used to swim during family picnics as a child. There are fields of green grass that go on forever, it seems. The air is crisp and clean, even in the summer, and the sky is the most beautiful and intense shade of blue I’ve ever seen.

An aerial view of the Finger Lakes.

You can find a farmer’s market around almost any corner, with fresh produce of all kinds. In the fall, there are festivals with amusement park rides, hayrides, pumpkin carving, apple bobbing, you name it. My favorite time of year is when it’s cool enough to wear a sweater and jeans, but no cold enough to need a jacket. The smell of the air at that time of year is indescribable, but anyone who has experienced it knows that of which I speak.

Driving north from Chemung County you’ll come across Sterling, New York, on Lake Ontario. On the weekend in summers is the Sterling Renaissance Faire. I’ve been to other renaissance faires and nothing compares to it. The actors are top-notch. The sets are very realistic. The shows are funny and entertaining. And the drive there is full of fabulous scenery.

And then there is Buffalo. There, you will find incredible theater, beautiful views of Lake Erie, a fabulous science museum, Shakespeare in Delaware Park and the Albright-Knox Art gallery, to name a few of its attributes. The nightlife is abundant. The restaurants will make your mouth water at the prospect. And the architecture will leave you in awe.

I didn’t mean for this blog to turn into an advertisement for New York State Tourism, but the more I thought about it, the more the words poured from my fingertips. And I left out a lot. I just hope I changed at least one person’s perception of the state, because, really, it isn’t all snow, cold and overcast days.

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The Real World

I just found out there’s no such thing as the real world, just a lie you’ve got to rise above. – John Mayer

Yesterday, I decided to play music I hadn’t listened to in a while and sit in my living room and read. The very last CD I put on before leaving for an evening out was John Mayer’s Room for Squares and that lyric is in the very first song on that CD.

I always loved that song. That line spoke to me the first time I ever heard it. But it’s been a while. The words floated on a cloud into my mind like an old friend come to visit after years away.

My Western Zodiac sign is Capricorn, an Earth sign. The older I get, the more I recognize myself in the description of this particular sign. I’m obsessively on time. I need to know what’s going on and don’t deal well with lack of planning on the part of others. I probably drive a lot of people crazy – especially the abundant number of Geminis who surround me.

But my Chinese sign is the Dragon. It’s the only mythological creature in the Chinese Zodiac. To me, that sign defines me even more than the Western one, but the two are always at odds with each other. I want terribly to be able to just let go and let my head float about in the atmosphere without a single thought for responsibility and logic. But I remain mostly grounded by my Earth sign. I think that inhibits my creativity and I’m trying to teach myself to stop allowing it to do so.

So, hearing that lyric yesterday was almost fortuitous, since I have spent the last two weeks making sure I create something new every day. After years and years of nothingness, I am finding something every day to write about here. And the thought of achieving my ultimate goal and freeing myself of the shackles of a 9-5 job just to pay the bills seems more and more of a possibility.

I want to make the real world a lie in my life. I want to rise above it.

And I believe, finally, that I will.

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