Writing

I was reading through my emails when I received a thoughtful text from a very kind person who sent me a picture of my book on the table of the Best Non-Fiction of 2024.  This was at the Barnes & Noble on the Upper Eastside of Manhattan.  How considerate it was to send me that picture.  And, how thrilled I was seeing my book in the photo.  It’s been challenging playing the promotion game, and I am not great at promoting my own interests.  Yes, I think the book would be helpful especially at this time.  I think it’s important to find the self-care tips during hardships whenever and wherever they show up.  And, thinking of what got us through past difficulties allows us to remember that we will get through this, too.  Those were a couple of reasons I wrote In the Time of Coronavirus.   I was so pleased when good reviews started to come in from those I didn’t know.  And, grateful for the couple of reviews from those who do know me, and still liked the book. 

Rather than add to the disquieting mix of this past week’s conversation, I am going to share two quotes that may be helpful now and going forward.  The first one was shared by my sister-in-law, Catherine North.  She has always been a champion for encouraging the best in those around her.  The second quote was shard in response to the first as a continuation of inspiration.  That was shared by a newer friend who I came to know during the pandemic.  Her name is Erin Falk and she lives with joy sharing her adventures as if we were there.  The pictures were taken this past week.  Walking helped me see what I love in and about the city of New York.  

In the USA we have a national and local election coming up and the stress related to that is palpable in most communities.  There is division and animosity.  Strong feelings are being played out in arguments, and in non-political spaces.  Road rage, short tempers and dismissiveness abound.  To offset that we have to make intentional choices.  Can we find lightness in all of this infuriation?  I’m working on it.  But it’s not easy.  Meditation works.  It’s not an instant fix, but the more I spend time focusing on the present the more I can stay in all the other present moments, and not get caught up in election anxiety.  Patience helps.  If I can understand that my expectation that things should go a certain way are in conflict with the reality at hand, I can calm myself down.  

We are entering the last quarter of 2024.  I feel like I’m rushing to accomplish what I had intended this year.  Some things take longer than others.  I had hoped I would have been able to promote my book more, but I had so much to learn.  And some of the promotion is not for me.  Given it isn’t what I had imagined, it’s important that I am grateful for what I could do.  I am grateful for all those who supported me and the book.  And, I am grateful for the lessons I’ve learned thus far, like the fact that I prefer smaller discussions to larger presentations.  And that I don’t enjoy marketing, nor have I ever enjoyed it.  Sharing something freely and needing to sell something are very different.  

During the pandemic I started listening to Glennon Doyle’s podcast.  I truly enjoy her honest and funny stories that entertain and invite us to challenge ourselves and grow.  I don’t have a direct quote, but she said at one point that when she started her podcast she spoke to each individual, understanding their importance, even when others were telling her she had to grow her audience.  I come back to that again and again as others in the publishing industry and related fields, give a hundred different ways to grow an audience.  These suggestions and tips require time, sometimes soft selling, and more often than not, money.  What is not mentioned is that bigger may be good for sales of my book, but it is not always better for me.  Helm

This weekend I walked in the steaming heat enjoying Summer Streets while traversing Park Avenue without cars.  I will miss the next two Saturdays, so it was a pleasant reprieve to have more than enough room while walking among pedestrians, runners, and cyclists.  I am going away.  Initially I packed for a hot summer, but according to the lower temperatures in Dublin I was ill prepared.  Following my lovely and tiring walk, I  unpacked and repacked for a ten-day trip to Ireland.  Instead of tank tops and sandals I’m bringing sweaters and socks. 

It’s a beautiful morning today.  There is a light breeze, the sun is out but not scorching, and the sky is clear.  The temperature dropped so it feels simply delightful.  I left my apartment before 7:30 am so that I could get in a destination walk to and from Trader Joe’s to pick up a few groceries for the week.  My plan was to be in and out before the Saturday rush.  I was walking on the east side of the street, which is less sunny, thus cooler, in the mornings.  When I approached 68^th Street I was in back of someone else with a cart who had a similar plan at Trader Joe’s.  She kept trying to get around a woman with her dog whose leash straddled the entire sidewalk.  When I got close enough I said, “Excuse me, we want to pass you and your dog.”  She didn’t move.  I was less polite in my next attempt.  “You’re taking up the whole sidewalk, can you move so we can pass?” “Fuck you” she said as she barely made room for us.  As I made my way around her dog, I said “You don’t have to take the entire sidewalk.”  My tone sounded as annoyed as I felt.  Even though I had been happy to be out and about on a glorious day, I quickly turned into a grouch.  Again, she repeated, “Fuck You!” This time louder so there would be no mistaking her ire.  I didn’t look back, and I’m not proud to say that I then gave her the finger with my back to her.  Only in retrospect could I think clearly and realize she’s not having a good morning.  Did I need to add to that?  

It’s sweltering outside.  The humidity and the temperature are high.  Though I have a good number of chores to get done, I’m choosing to spend this time writing this blog in air conditioning.  I haven’t planned what I’ll write, so as unoriginal as it is, I’ve started by mentioning the weather.  Inspiration is not forthcoming.  I just walked away to go into the kitchen.  I cubed and toasted bread to make breadcrumbs to go with the zucchini I purchased today at the farmer’s market.  In fact, the bread came from there last week.  I‘m making zucchini fritters.  The eggs that go in the mix come from another stall at the farmer’s market.  I didn’t see the right onions, so I’ll have to go out for them.  I so enjoy the sweet and savory combination of the fritters.  

It’s something of an irony that my and my husband’s 27^th wedding anniversary is on the 27^th week of this year.  I like coincidences like that.  When the stars align, I feel good all over.  Twenty-Seven years is probably the longest commitment to anything I’ve done in my life.  I like variety, so in the past I could do something for a while and then I’d move on.  I took a very different tactic for our marriage.  While Larry is someone who likes routines and enjoys what he knows, I like to try new things, preferring to being adventurous rather than staying in place.  Though we were a bit older than our contemporaries when we got married, I was 38 to Larry’s 45, we had a lot to learn about relationships, particularly long-term relationships.  

This Tuesday I become a published author with In the Time of Coronavirus, Reflecting on the Past to Embrace a Joyful Future.  To that end I am doing everything I know to do to promote this book, working to get it into stores, sites and libraries and into readers’ hands.  It is a daunting task.  I am overwhelmed, yet very excited.  

I was nervous.  I had agreed to participate in a Zoom panel which included reading from my pre-published book, In the Time of Coronavirus. but it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to a group.  As I was practicing, reading the blog post a few times, I noticed my voice sounded like it was stuck in my throat.  I did not think that was a good thing.  

We can be shiny and perfect and admired, or we can be real and honest and vulnerable and loved. But we actually do have to choose. --Glennon Doyle Melton

I listen to Glennon’s podcast, “We Can Do Hard Things.”  On one of her podcasts she said that she used to worry that no one was listening to her.  Her audiences were small, her readership small.  But then she started seeing and hearing the few who were listening.  She realized that each person was important, not the number itself.  It was so meaningful to hear that.  I have taken it to heart.

As a psychotherapist I’ve noticed that so many people in and out of my office will say, “I know this is boring, but…” Traditionally therapists don’t respond, we only listen. I’m more interactive, so I respond to the statement that they think what they have to say is boring. I’m curious. I don’t find what they tell me boring. But I want to know how they see it themselves. The subject matter is secondary to their perceptions and experiences of living their lives. I am fascinated by that. Luckily my profession affords me to privilege of hearing their insights and opinions regarding their lives.

“Don’t wait for people to tell you who you are.  Show them. “ 

Laura Benanti

I just came home from seeing Audible Theater’s production of Nobody Cares, written and performed by Laura Benanti.  She is a singular talent.  Before the show there were a bevy of celebrities in the audience including Patti Lupone, Sarah Bareiles, and Larry Owens.  They came to enjoy an evening featuring their colleague and friend.  

“Procrastinate now, don't put it off.”
― Ellen DeGeneres

t

I spent yesterday  procrastinating.  I cooked, I baked, I looked things up online.  What I didn’t do was tally my expenses for budgeting and taxes.  I am not fond of bookkeeping.  Nonetheless, I was able to sit down and focus after I did everything I could to avoid the inevitable.  It wasn’t as bad as I anticipated.  Nor was it as fun as taking the day off.  

This week I’m sharing some past sunsets.  Seeing sunrises and sunsets makes me smile.  Sunsets remind me that nothing is permanent.  And sunrises are an apt metaphor that we always have a chance at a new beginning.  Both sentiments give me some peace.  And we could all use peace.

I voted early yesterday.  I like my councilwoman and I wanted to keep her in office.  What I don’t get to vote for is the abolishment of daylight savings time.  We turned the clocks back last night, and ostensibly we got an extra hour of sleep.  Then in April we “spring” ahead losing that hour.  I say, no thank you.  

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  That was a common idiom of our mother’s lexicon.   She lived true to that statement.  Even when she attempted to comment on something she disapproved of, she did her best to soften it.  As a teen, I often was asked the question, “Janet, do you think that’s the most complementary outfit?“  Or it could have been make-up, pants, hair style or any other appearance-related observation.  As a sensitive teen I was crushed no matter how much she tried to say it diplomatically.