Happy 2023: The Year of No Improving!

San Pedrito Beach, Baja California Sur, Mexico

In 2022: 

We did 11 housesits in 3 countries (including 3 U.S. states). 

Along the way we took care of:

15 dogs

3 cats

and 1 guinea pig

I finished writing my book about our itinerant life (title still in flux) and am hoping 2023 gifts me a publisher! In the meantime, you can read an excerpt that appeared in HuffPost. The piece makes clear that our lifestyle isn't all champagne and roses.

You can also watch this interview with Dave and me about housesitting all over the world. 

Also, a piece I wrote about housesitting in Mexico appeared in House Sitting Magazine. 

landing in Baja

We had one flight cancellation...our first in nearly a decade of nomadic living. Our flight out of Panama was cancelled. After a debacle of waiting for hours for our luggage and organizing all the passengers, American Airlines redeemed itself by putting us up in an all-inclusive resort for the night, including food and fancy rooms. They put us up in a crappy room the next night in Miami, but they paid so we couldn't complain (much). 

It felt amazing to return to Baja and to our home. We hadn't lived in it for two years, so we had a lot of projects facing us, but we took them poco a poco. The area has exploded with construction so there's definitely more people and noise--and we lost our slice-of-ocean view. 

Day of the Dead in Todos Santos

But we still have a nice view of the hills and there are also more restaurants and activities. We saw a great outdoor production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, went to a music festival, attended the consecration of a Buddhist stupa and enjoyed a fantastic Day of the Dead celebration. We were happy to reconnect with our community and had a wonderful visit from our friend Nicole.

With Nicole on our rooftop

In the meantime I turned the epic age of 60. Especially after facing two major health crises in my fifties, I was grateful to be alive. But I kept seeing ads and articles for getting rid of wrinkles, for getting thin after menopause--voices that insist that "60 is the new 18!" or whatever. 

And I thought NO. Just NO. 

I'm grateful to be 60. Too much of my life has been taken up with thinking that my body should be different than it is. So I decided that at age 60, I'm letting go of body shame and the toxic diet culture mindset (often wrapped in a pretty bow of "wellness") run by those who cash in on making us feel badly about ourselves and keep us on the "never good enough" treadmill. 

Pema Chodron says that constantly focusing on improving is a violence to the self.

Besides, aging isn't a disease or a problem. It's a privilege.

This leads me to my mantra for my sixties: NO RULES! I want to live improvisationally, allowing whatever is in front of me to inspire me to act rather than deciding in advance what I should/shouldn't do. 

I'm inviting in joy, relaxation, nature, naps, ambiguity, softening, reading, music, peace, creativity, humor, true connection with others, surrender and being here now. 

Speaking of reading, I read 65 books in 2022 (see my reviews here) and am constantly grateful for those who tell their stories.

Shannon, Anne, Laurie, Nancy & me

To celebrate my new decade, four amazing women joined me in Cabo for a week at a wellness retreat center. I know each one from a different part of my life; together we created a colorful mosaic of friendship. I ended our time together floating on a cloud of love.

Walking on Cerritos Beach with Deva, our neighbor's dog.

I think my sixties are going to be cool. Is it a cliche that I started playing Pickleball and went to my first Zumba class? I'm not sure if I'll continue on with either one regularly. No rules, remember? I'll decide each day, sometimes each moment, how I want to spend my living time.

Me with Mom, 60 years ago

The actual day of my birthday in November we spent with my sister and some friends at her new, gorgeous house in Todos Santos. The food (especially my sister's homemade carrot cake) and company were great, as was the music jam: three guitars and my uke.

Hawaii housesit view from the lanai.

We left Mexico after two months to housesit in Hawaii. So we will be ringing in the new year in aloha spirit. But after this we are headed back to Baja to settle in for a while. 

Happy New Year to all. Here's a Tibetan Buddhist Blessing that I send to everyone:

May you be filled with loving kindness. 

May you be well. 

May you be peaceful and at ease. 

May you be happy. 

How to Write Freely (hint: Befriend Your Mind)

 

Years ago—via the work of Gabriele Rico, NatalieGoldberg, Anne Lamott, and Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi—I learned about the right brain vs. left brain, the creator vs. the critic, the writing of the shitty first draft, the generative power of flow. These concepts helped me a lot as a writer. They helped me surrender to the stream (the dream, the trance) of writing. Writing unharnessed, I could feel my unconscious do its work. When I was in the flow, words poured onto the page; patterns and meanings emerged.

And yet there were competing voices. Voices that said writing is hard. Really, really hard. The boot camp voices: You must be disciplined. You must keep your butt in the seat. The existential voices: You have to open a vein and bleed on the page. You must kill your darlings. The masochist: If you don’t suffer, you’re doing it wrong. If you don’t sacrifice your life to your art, you are a poser.

These competing, contradictory voices fought inside me. As I result, I’d experience stretches of flow and confidence, followed by expanses of scarcity and deep doubt. I wrote numerous short pieces, but I stopped several books fifty pages in.

One day I came across a book called Daily Rituals: How Artists Work by Mason Currey. In his examination of the working lives of famous writers and artists from the 19^th century to the present, I saw that the most prolific artists do work most days to take advantage of momentum. 

But not all day, every day. 

Generally three or four hours a day—with a day or two off a week. For many, more work than that becomes self-sabotaging, leading to burn-out. This four-hour pace is about creating a body of work, of living a sustainable life as an artist. Their focus is the process, not an attachment to the product. But what struck me the most was this: They adjust their thinking to their benefit.

While writing or painting or sculpting wasn’t always easy, many of these artists foster the attitude of Willa Cather, who said: 

“If I made a chore of it, my enthusiasm would die. I make an adventure of it every day.”

The word “adventure” popped off the page. Adventures can be arduous. They can have scary moments. But we love them! We choose them!

The book I wanted to write was, in part, about the adventure my husband and I embarked upon: leaving our jobs and home to live as nomads. It was a memoir about how life is an adventure. How we transformed when we stepped into the fertile void. Suddenly, the plot and the process of my project felt interlinked.

It had been six years since I’d written a book. The stakes felt high. I’d retired early in order to focus on my writing.

We were staying for four months at a house in Tahoe. The house had extra rooms, and groups of our friends would be coming and going. I decided that no matter what, I’d write two to four hours a day, with my earbuds in playing music to inspire me, to make it fun—and to block out the noise of all those people. When I took off the earbuds, I’d be living my balanced life: we’d talk, make food, go hiking and snow-shoeing.

 

The first day I sat to write, I turned on my computer and, with my hands on my lap, took a deep breath. Spontaneously, I closed my eyes, and listened to my inner voice say something like this:

I’m writing today because I choose it. It’s an adventure! It’s about allowing, not forcing. It’s about being curious and joyful. I am doing this because I love it. I’m willing to make a mess, like a finger-painting kid. I trust my instincts. My unconscious will guide me. I’m willing to get lost in the dream of writing.

I opened my eyes and was off and running. Every day, I closed my eyes and gave myself what I began to call a “Meditative Pep Talk.”

Never before had I written so prolifically. Words poured out like water. If I hit a speed bump, I’d close my eyes, breathe, and tap into thoughts served me best. Thoughts like, It’s okay to be unsure. It’s okay to not know. You’re doing this because you love it. You’re not suffering, you’re adventuring.

In four months, I wrote 160,000 words. That’s about five or six double-spaced pages a day.

When it came time to revise, I knew I’d have to cut. I decided I wasn’t killing my darlings; I was pulling weeds so the garden would thrive. Every day I appreciated how all those extraneous words were instrumental in forming the essential ones. I thought about Michelangelo, who said: “I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free.”

I have a choice. I can believe my fears or I can believe my assurances. As though my process and my product wove together like a Moebius strip, I ended up titling my memoir: Call It Wonder, from OSHO who said: 

“Don’t call it uncertainty—call it wonder. 

Don’t call it insecurity—call it freedom.”

11 Books That Touched My Life

Many books have touched my life. These are a few that have helped me better understand who I am, why I’m here and what I’m capable of.

These books opened up worlds to me that I didn’t know existed. Eyes may be windows into the soul—but so are books.

1) Harriet the Spy by Louise Fitzhugh.

Harriet rides her bike around, peeking in on her quirky neighbors and writing about them. She likes to wear jeans and her dad’s blocky glasses frames. Her best friend, a boy named Scout, wears an apron when he cooks for his widowed father. I first read this book at age eight. When I re-read it 30 years later, I saw many things I care about contained in its pages: the love of traveling and writing, the rejection of gender straight-jackets and the fascination with how other people do this thing we call living.

Favorite quote: “Life is a great mystery. Is everybody a different person when they are with someone else?”

2) The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury.

In seventh grade, my science teacher read to us every Friday from this book about humans colonizing Mars. While I may not have grasped the social criticism, I was bowled over by the gripping writing and by how the stories offered deep insights into life. That a book could give me (existential) goosebumps helped me internalize the power of the written word.

Favorite quote: “Why life? Life was its own answer. Life was the propagation of more life and the living of as good a life as possible.”

3) Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman.

I was in my twenties when I first encountered Whitman, whose work became my bible. He wrote about how we are connected to each other and all of nature, how the body is to be praised, how equality should be a given, and how what matters most is love in all its forms. His long, rhythmic lines crackle with life more than 150 years since they first appeared in print.

Favorite quote: “Do anything, but let it produce joy.”

4) Journal of Solitude by May Sarton.

At age 29, I sold everything I owned and moved alone to Japan to teach. There, I devoured all of Sarton’s soulful and insightful journals, starting with this one. I was spending a lot of time alone, and she helped me see how I didn’t have to be scared of solitude; alone, I could plumb my depths.

Favorite quote: “Loneliness is the poverty of self; solitude is richness of self.”

5) Wild Mind: Living the Writers’ Life by Natalie Goldberg.

With her pragmatic, soulful wit, Goldberg helped me free my inner creator. As a young expat living in Japan, I tried out her writing methods and turned myself over to my dream of being a writer.

Favorite quote: “Stress is basically a disconnection from the earth, a forgetting of the breath. Stress is an ignorant state. It believes everything is an emergency.”

6) When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times by Pema Chodron.

When I was going through a devastating divorce, a good friend gave me this book. My lifeline to sanity, Pema’s book was the start of my journey to better understand how to deal with suffering. I think I saved thousands of dollars in therapy bills by reading this book again and again.

Favorite quote: “If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher.”

7) Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Life and Love from Dear Sugar by Cheryl Strayed.

As I read this book, I found myself wishing over and over again I’d had it in my hands when I was younger. It just might have helped me change course—or at least be kinder to myself. Her advice and voice wrap their arms around you and help you stand up straight.

Favorite quote: “You will learn a lot about yourself if you stretch in the direction of goodness, of bigness, of kindness, of forgiveness, of emotional bravery. Be a warrior for love.”

The final four books fit in the category of “Badass Women.” All of these women overcame great odds to claim their power—and at some level, to change the world. These books ignited my inner flame so that I more deeply appreciated my freedom, my voice and my capacity to inspire and be inspired.

8) Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali.

In this memoir, a Somalian woman follows a harrowing and unlikely path and ultimately becomes a political figure in the Netherlands. In the face of death threats, she fearlessly champions free speech, women’s rights and the banning of female genital mutilation.

Favorite quote: “It takes a long time to dissolve the bars of a mental cage.” 

9) Champion of Choice: The Life and Legacy of Women’s Advocate Nafis Sadik by Cathleen Miller.

An incredibly inspirational example of a woman who has affected millions of lives. A Pakistani national, she bucked tradition and became a physician and eventually a leader of the U.N. population fund, fighting for women’s health and reproductive rights. Now in her 80s, she is still working to make the world a better place.

Favorite quote: “We must be courageous in speaking out on the issues that concern us… We will not allow ourselves to be silenced.”

10) She’s Not There: A Life in Two Genders by Jennifer Finney Boylan.

With humor and intelligence, Boylan tells the poignant story of her transition from Jim to Jenny. As with all the other “badass women” books, I developed new understandings and deeper compassion reading this.

Favorite quote: “As it turns out, we’re all still learning to be men, or women, all still learning to be ourselves.”

11) Half Broke Horses by Jeanette Walls.

This novel is based on the life of Jeanette’s extraordinary grandmother, Lila Casey Smith, who, at age 15, left home on a pony to ride 500 miles for a teaching job in a frontier town. She learned to fly a plane and ran a ranch in Arizona, surviving droughts, tornadoes, the Great Depression and personal tragedy. Like the other badass women, she stood up for the underdog and spoke out against injustice.

Favorite quote: “Nobody’s perfect. We’re all just one step up from the beasts and one step down from the angels.”

What’s a book that touched your life?

(This piece first appeared in Elephant Journal.)