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Happy Jewish New Year, Week Thirty-Nine in the New Abnormal

Happy Jewish New Year, Week Thirty-Nine in the New Abnormal
Sep 25, 2022 by Janet Zinn

The Hebrew Year 5783 is upon us.  It’s a celebration of new beginnings.  Sometimes called the great reset.  We have a tradition of bringing bread crumbs, which symbolize our sins, down to the river to release them so we can start anew.  For me the letting go of the recent past to move on is an unburdening.  It’s a kindness we can give ourselves in letting go of what we deem to be opposed to our values.  It’s a personal forgiveness so we can live better lives through right action.  

Life is Beautiful, Living is Hard; Week Thirty-Eight in the New Abnormal

Life is Beautiful, Living is Hard; Week Thirty-Eight in the New Abnormal
Sep 17, 2022 by Janet Zinn

I woke up this morning to a stunning sunrise.  I slept well and was in a better mood than I had been the last couple of days.  Sunrises bring hope.  They help me to begin the day with gratitude.  The day is lovely.  It’s warm enough to avoid outwear, but cool enough to enjoy the breezes on my walk.  The outdoor cafes are filled with happy brunch diners.  The city is moving along nicely.

Another Year Older, Week Thirty-Five in the New Abnormal

Another Year Older, Week Thirty-Five in the New Abnormal
Aug 27, 2022 by Janet Zinn

Today I turn 63.  In my 20s and 30s I wanted a lot of celebrating.  By 40, after I started my present career as a psychotherapist, low key became my preferred option.  Don’t get me wrong, I wanted recognition.  Sometimes, I say with some embarrassment, I demanded recognition.  But smaller became better for me.  Today I took myself to the Bronx to walk among the August flowers at the New York Botanical Gardens.  

Scaffolding, Week Thirty-Four in the New Abnormal

Scaffolding, Week Thirty-Four in the New Abnormal
Aug 21, 2022 by Janet Zinn

Pre-Covid, I took a wonderful writing workshop with Emily Raboteau at the Key West Writer’s Workshop.  Not only was it a beautiful setting, but the guest speakers and the workshop itself were invaluable.  One thing Professor Raboteau taught us was the necessity of proper scaffolding to support the writing.  It took time, but I built my scaffolding.  It’s been more precarious than proper, but I worked with the materials at hand and I’m finding my way.

A Good Morning, Week Thirty-Three in the New Abnormal

A Good Morning, Week Thirty-Three in the New Abnormal
Aug 13, 2022 by Janet Zinn
My short bob is all over the place.  I remember a time my mother would claim, “We have to tame your hair.”  I still hear you, Mom, but I am wearing it untamed today.  Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it was a deeply satisfying morning, but I’m feeling a bit untamed myself.  Today is one of three City Streets in which Park Avenue is open to cyclists, runners and pedestrians.  I took out my low bicycle and headed west to Park Avenue at 6:45 for a 7 a.m. start.  I trudged up a small hill, understanding this was the only practice I’d get before riding on the northern hills of Park Avenue.  

Bears of Central Park, Week Thirty-Two in the New Abnormal

Bears of Central Park, Week Thirty-Two in the New Abnormal
Aug 06, 2022 by Janet Zinn

I entered Central Park at 79th Street.  The small, seated area was cordoned off so that Central Park Conservancy workers could clean the sculpture of the bear trio that adorns a circular inlet.  I had never seen the careful scrubbing of the artwork and appreciated how diligently they were working to rid the bears of debris.  The park is as beautiful as it is thanks to Conservancy employees and a myriad of volunteers who work assiduously to ensure that we can all enjoy all the Park offers.  

It's Hot! Week Thirty in the New Abnormal

It's Hot! Week Thirty in the New Abnormal
Jul 23, 2022 by Janet Zinn
Heat waves are oppressive.  I’m walking slowly, drinking more water, and commiserating with everyone else who is melting in this humid weather.  I have always preferred hot temperatures to cold, but sometimes it’s just too hot.  As a child I’d ride my Schwinn to the Haddontowne Swim Club and cool down swimming and playing in the chlorinated water.  Today, I can ride my bike, but I’m going to opt for the indoor version in my air-conditioned apartment, going nowhere, and enjoying the solitude.   

Ah, Spring, Week Twenty-Three in the New Abnormal

Ah, Spring, Week Twenty-Three in the New Abnormal
Jun 05, 2022 by Janet Zinn

It feels absolutely freeing to wear lighter clothing.  Spring is here and I’m thrilled.  Even if the mornings or evenings require a light jacket, putting away the wool is such a relief.  In theory, I love the changing seasons.  Each season bringing a mood, a swath of colors, or, as in winter, shades of white and grey.  But, in practice I prefer the warmer months.  If only I could transplant New York City to a more temperate climate.  Alas, such are the compromises I’ve made to be a New Yorker.  

A Trip to the Equator, Week 20 in the New Abnormal

A Trip to the Equator, Week 20 in the New Abnormal
May 14, 2022 by Janet Zinn

No one could have prepared me for the beauty of Ecuador.  Wherever I turn the vista is extraordinary.  The pictures barely capture the awe that we’re experiencing.  Going on vacation is the refresh I so needed.  

 

What We Don't Know, Week Fourteen in the New Abnormal

What We Don't Know, Week Fourteen in the New Abnormal
Apr 03, 2022 by Janet Zinn

Awards, Week Thirteen in the New Transition

Awards, Week Thirteen in the New Transition
Mar 27, 2022 by Janet Zinn

Though award shows don’t hold the same cache as they did in my childhood, this weekend is the Academy Awards.  Fraught with politics and self-promotion, the awards have lost some of their shimmer.  Yet, while growing up I wrote and rewrote my acceptance speeches.  It was my fantasy of ultimate success.  If I felt insignificant or hurt, my bright future would prove to the world I was somebody.  My bullies would see I was special.  That was my secret revenge.  

 

Welcome Spring, Week Twelve in the New Abnormal

Welcome Spring, Week Twelve in the New Abnormal
Mar 20, 2022 by Janet Zinn

Hello Spring, you couldn’t come soon enough.  We’ve all needed to lighten our loads. And what better way to start than by taking off our parkas?   Like the shining moon hidden under the clouds, you’ve come from behind the cold for renewed hope.  

Tech Unsaavy and More, Week Eight in the New Abnormal

Tech Unsaavy and More, Week Eight in the New Abnormal
Feb 20, 2022 by Janet Zinn

I don’t really understand Instagram.  I’ve heard it’s for boomers.  As a Baby Boomer, I am virtually clueless on how to navigate this social media platform.  I can send hearts to a photo, but opening attachments, or anything more than loving a post eludes me.  I keep meaning to find a tutorial I can follow, but my time is spoken for, so learning how to use Instagram stays low on my to-do list.    I post to Instagram weekly.  I’m not sure if it goes through, or if people just see pictures but can’t open the attachments.  

The Wrong Way I Meditate, Week Six in the New Abnormal

The Wrong Way I Meditate, Week Six in the New Abnormal
Feb 06, 2022 by Janet Zinn

I felt so fortunate that I had a meditation practice prior to the pandemic.  I chose to double up my meditations to give myself devoted time each morning before I started my day.  And, when needed again at night, or anytime I had to find my way back to myself. 

Thwarted Plans, Week Two In The New Abnormal

Thwarted Plans, Week Two In The New Abnormal
Jan 08, 2022 by Janet Zinn

I keep deluding myself into thinking I know the best formula for getting through these difficult times.  I meditate twice daily.  I make sure I don’t make plans more than once a week, except in special circumstances.  I go for daily walks.  I work.  I try to make dinner a few times a week.  I like doing all these things.  While I’m doing teach of them, I feel perfectly fine.  But in other moments I am short-tempered.  I am impatient.  I long for more support.  

So Long, 2021, Week 35 in the Time of Transition

So Long, 2021, Week 35 in the Time of Transition
Dec 25, 2021 by Janet Zinn

2021 was so, so long.  In this last week I have little interest in reviewing this past year.  The fact that I, that we, got through it is good enough for me.  

Thank you Mr. Sondheim, Week 31 in the Time of Transition

Thank you Mr. Sondheim, Week 31 in the Time of Transition
Nov 28, 2021 by Janet Zinn

I was working at Strawbridge and Clothier in the Men’s shoe department.  This was a branch in the Echelon Mall in Voorhees, NJ, a short commute to Philadelphia.  I was a student at Rutger’s University in Camden, still a theater major, though I would finish with a degree in English.  Paul Puccio, an English major at another college, who worked in Men’s Furnishings, introduced me to the music of Stephen Sondheim.  I was 18 years old.  He was enamored with Follies and Alexis Smith.  He invited me over to his home where I listened to his original Broadway cast album with Paul narrating to a neophyte. I was changed for life.  

A Rare Moment of Calm, Week 24 in the Time of Transition

A Rare Moment of Calm, Week 24 in the Time of Transition
Oct 10, 2021 by Janet Zinn

I hit the ground running.  There was so much to get done and I’m still behind.  I did the best I could, which means I had to readjust from vacation mode to New York City-paced backlog catch-up.  Within a few days the vacation glow is flickering.  

 

Getting Away, Week 23 in the Time of Transition

Getting Away, Week 23 in the Time of Transition
Oct 03, 2021 by Janet Zinn

Sometimes we just need to get away.  It helps to clear our heads and take a break from day-to-day stress.  That’s exactly what we did this weekend. It’s been a long time coming.  I booked this trip before the pandemic shut down our world.  I rebooked three times in the hope that quarantines were a temporary inconvenience.  In the end we had to wait until the Canadian borders opened up for the fully vaccinated. 

A Pandemic Birthday, Week Eighteen in the Time of Transition

A Pandemic Birthday, Week Eighteen in the Time of Transition
Aug 29, 2021 by Janet Zinn

A few years ago I was at a networking event when I spotted an old acquaintance.  I was happy to see her, filled with memories of the two of us with mutual friends enjoying parties, volunteering, and talks in the mid-80’s.  When I approached her and reminded her who I was, in a cold tone she responded, “Yes, I know who you are.”  I felt hurt and dismissed.  I thought about those early years in New York City when I couch-surfed and lived hand to mouth.  It was a hard time, and I was not always my best self.  I had thought warmly of this person recalling her dedication to friends and of her strong work ethic.  Her taciturn words indicated she thought less of me.