Where did those 525,600 minutes go? Your year in rear view.

Engin Akyurt

It’s that time of year again. We’re inundated with ideas for setting goals for the New Year. What will you accomplish?

Will you write that novel? Lose those 10 pounds? Run a 5K? Declutter your house? Learn French? Be more patient with your kids?

The pressure is on.

Here’s an idea. What if you just scrapped the goals and resolutions for 2024?

What if, instead, you did a year-in-review? Kind of like what companies ask of their employees.

But here’s the catch: Your write-up may only include what you DID accomplish–no matter how small.

That’s right, NO bashing yourself for what you didn’t get done, improve, gain, orchestrate, or start. 

Review your accomplishments month by month. Chances are, by the time you finish, those “small” things won’t seem so small.

This idea was inspired from my youngest daughter. Several years ago, when I complained about how I hadn’t completed my TO Do list, (for the umpteenth time) Audrey suggested that I start keeping an I DID list.

 “I think you’ll feel a lot better, Mom.”   (Did I mention I have brilliant children?)

While I have not been able to scrap the TO DO list, I’ve adopted this practice in other areas of my life. After a string of writing rejections, I might look at my list of publications to remind myself that I’m not a failure.

Maybe you’re thinking: But shouldn’t I be trying to get better at _________?

I hear you. Self-improvement has become a religion. And I admit to being a faithful member of the tribe.

But for the time being, I going to put a hold on reminders of where I am lacking.  Every day we’re fed messages that we aren’t good enough. Not Smart enough. Rich enough. Thin enough. Happy enough. Healthy enough. Optimistic enough. Productive enough.

In our quest to become our Best Selves, the task master often gets the best of us. 

So, let’s drop the whip for the time being. Give yourself an A for everything you accomplished in 2023!

If you absolutely feel you must set a New Year’s goal, here’s a good one. Commit to bringing more joy into your life and spreading it to others. 

What would that look like? 

Could you make joy a daily or weekly practice? What actions would you need to take? Might you create a joy calendar? 

If, in the midst of our dark and chaotic world, you can manage this singular goal, I believe your other goals will become easier to attain.

And your better self will be a happier one.

Want to JOYn me?

Invitation To Write With Me – Jan 29

If you are an aspiring writer, I invite you to spend your lunch hour Monday, Jan 29 via Zoom for a 30 min writing workshop. 12 PM EST.

This monthly workshop is offered free of charge through The Writers‘ Room of Boston, a shared writing space in downtown Boston for writers of all levels and genres. (Donations to the WROB appreciated!)

Photo Credit: Margery Gans

The WROB is a nonprofit and also offers fellowships, virtual memberships, readings, author interviews, and workshops online and in-person .

Each month we’ll dive into the essential elements of great storytelling. Whether fiction or essay or poetry, we will explore ways to increase narrative power through a particular aspect of craft.

Workshops are led through a guided slide presentation. Participants will have the chance to ask questions and share prompt responses. We’ll end with a monthly writing challenge. 

Writers’ Room of Boston members can email me 2 pages of their writing for detailed feedback.

Register via Eventbrite.

Hope to see you there!

 Photo Credit: Marjery Gans

Pursuing Possibilities …

I had been thinking about this very idea when Linda Marie Marten’s beautiful post landed in my inbox today. For me, 2022’s theme was “say yes to life”. I wanted to push myself to explore more, try new things, visit new places, and face some of my fears.

As I continue on this path of pursuing possibility, I find more doors opening. I now glimpse a wider horizon than my post trauma brain could ever envision.

I delighted in reading about Linda’s bold move, as well as discovering our shared love of the color red. I also own a pair of favorite red shoes!

I hope Linda Marten’s post will inspire you, too, whatever your age or circumstance.

Linda Marie Marten

It all started with an Osprey …

It all started that day I saw an Osprey in a tree. I hadn’t seen one since I lived in Oregon, over 40 years ago.

It was a lovely spring day in Southern California, near a small town that overlooked the ocean. I arrived early to attend a Meetup group event at a small art museum. While I waited, I walked around the grassy wild open fields teaming with tall green grasses & purple wild flowers blooming after many days of rain. My body began to relax more and more as I walked the path beside the green, taking in the fresh air & nature all around me. I felt like I was home, closer to nature than I’d been in a very long time.

You see, I’ve lived the past 40 years in a more congested, busy part of Los Angeles next…

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What Does A Year Feel Like?

“So teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.“

Psalm 90

Once upon a time, I taught first grade.

I remember a humorous incident one December day just before vacation. I helped the children cut out paper snowflakes and write a wish for the New Year. After dismissal, I noticed Daniel still at his desk, stuffing his backpack with his pencil case, books, and folders.

When I asked what he was doing, Daniel replied, “I don’t want to forget any of my stuff. Oh, and thanks for being my teacher. First grade was fun!”

Time may flow in one direction. but how we experience its passage is more individual.

What does a year feel like?

During the early days of the Covid-19 pandemic, people across the nation reported disorientation about time passing. Funny social media memes abound.

Without our usual schedules, social activities, holiday celebrations, and other time markers, the days blurred together.  The heightened stress and fear only compounded this sensation.

Our memories got mushed.

I felt both comforted and validated hearing these reports. Now others might understand what I experienced after the traumatic loss of my father.

Grief and trauma distorts our sense of time.

Days stretch and bend. Past and present fuse. The months seem like moving parts. Memories shuffle like a deck of cards.

The future looms unreal. Waiting unbearable. 

I had not known before
    Forever was so long a word.
The slow stroke of the clock of time
    I had not heard.

Paul Laurence Dunbar

What does a year feel like?

A lifetime. Or a dream. A ballad or a song. A blink.

For some, this state-of-being is temporary. For others, it persists.

Your friend sends a Happy New Year wish and you’re still standing on the edge of June.

Time is a relentless trickster. It plays hide and seek on us. It sweeps by when we’re not looking. Pushes us forward whether we’re ready or not.

Lost time is never found.

Benjamin Franklin

Our brains are hard-wired to remember negative events better than positive ones. We recall rebuke more than praise, and rejection more than affection.

Remembering the good, especially during hard times, can help overcome this negativity bias.

So, I’ve begun making a list of all the good moments of 2022. Looking through photographs and my calendar helps.

Give it a try. You’ll get an instant lift.

Here are some highlights:

*A January sunset sail in Key West. 

*Hanging out with my family members in beautiful Sarasota.

*The joy of attending my daughter’s postponed 2020 college commencement.

*The fun of a family gathering in the Catskills.

*An incredible Writer’s Retreat in Lake Atitlan, Guatemala

*Welcoming a new grandson and 2 additional members to our family tree.

*An unexpected birthday gift arrives in the mail.

There are joys to be found in the present.

A sunny writing room.

A surprise message from an old friend.

Hugs from your grown kids.

Breakfast prepared for you.

Gratitude gives light to the dark days. 

These past months have been very hard. I am grateful for those who stood by me.

I am grateful to the organizations that supported my writing this year: Key West Literary Seminar, Tuscan Book Festival, Joyce Maynard Write by the Lake, and Story Studio Chicago.

And I’m grateful to you readers for sharing this journey through time. Wishing you all a light-filled New Year!

What’s on your best days of 2022 list?

Do You Like Sad Music? Here’s why…

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“Bittersweetness is the hidden source of our moon shots, masterpieces, and loves stories.” ~Susan Cain

In her early twenties, author Susan Cain began wondering why she found sad music strangely uplifting. From Leonard Cohen to Albinoni’s Adagio, mournful songs seemed to open her heart and inspire a sense of connectedness.

She spent the next two decades exploring how humans have turned sorrow into creativity, transcendence, and love.

Her new book, Bittersweet: How Sorry and Longing Makes Us Whole, examines not just why we experience the state of yearning, but how transforming our heartaches can help us turn toward each other and bring meaning.

Penguin Random House

Do you have the bittersweet temperament? Cain offers a research-based quiz to see where you fall on the spectrum. Here are a few of the questions:

-Do you tear up easily at touching TV commercials?

-Are you especially moved by old photographs?

-Do you react intensely to music, art, or nature?

-Do you feel elevated by sad music?

-Do you seek out beauty in your everyday life?

My high score put me as a “true connoisseur of the place where light and dark meet.” Not surprising, at all. I was the kid who cried at Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” theme.

Bittersweet is a word we often toss around. Cain’s precise definition really resonates with me.

A tendency to states of longing, poignancy, and sorrow: an acute awareness of passing time; and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world. The recognition that light and dark, birth and death—bitter and sweet—are forever paired.

Cain sees our pull toward sad music as intertwined with the sweet parts of life. It expresses our longing for a more beautiful and perfect world. She describes Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” as an expression of the yearning for transcendent love.

This active state of yearning, particularly for the unattainable, which she names “the great ache“, has always been part of our shared humanity. This universal longing is conjured into some of the world’s most beautiful music. 

Our oldest problem is the pain of separation; our deepest dream is the desire for reunion.

The author cites research that demonstrates how melancholy melodies help modulate our emotions and physiology. Kind of like having a good cry. Some of us enjoy this emotional arousal and catharsis.

She quotes a musicologist from the 19th century who describes the key of C minor as the “longing of the lovesick soul“. 

Darya Tryvanava

Sad music can elicit “exalted states of communion and awe.” The song lyrics, as well, can make us feel less alone, as if someone else out there understands our pain. This music can offer space to reflect upon and process sad events.

Paradoxically, research shows that, for some, listening to sad music can mend a broken heart.

Cain explores other related questions in this book:

Why do we long for the perfect? How should we cope with lost love? How can we live and work authentically in a “tyranny of positivity”? How should we live, knowing that we and everyone we love will die?

Paul Klee, “Strong Dream”, 1929

Bittersweet is a fascinating mixture of memoir, philosophy, psychology, and storytelling.

Upbeat music makes us want to dance around the kitchen and invite friends to dinner. Sad music makes us want to touch the sky.

Do you find listening to melancholy music healing? Here’s one of my favorites.

What’s on your sad song list?

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