To give unto them beauty for ashes

I'm out to banish an old demon. I am calling for a new holiday, and invite you to celebrate it with me. The third Tuesday of November is to be known henceforth as Love Your Life Day. Feel free to interpret that however you wish, but I do hope you will find something to do that brings you real joy, something that makes you glad you're a resident of this planet, something that invigorates your spirit and helps you want to go on, and on, and on. I hope you spend the whole day in beautiful thoughts and choices that allow you to feel real and strong and clean and vibrant. Take good care of yourself. Nurture your soul. Eat something wonderful. Laugh for a good reason, and also for no good reason. Spend some time under the sky. Dance. Move. This is starting to sound like some cheesy motivational quote already, and I haven't even warmed up. Never mind—you can figure it out on your own without my suggestions. Just love your live. And if you feel like sharing later, tell me how you celebrated.

Happy Love Your Life Day.

This post has nothing to do with cancer

This post has to do with people and their stories, which I have just spent two days recording. It has everything to do with listening. And telling. And being here, now. So we can carry each other.

Thank you, Becca. Thank you, Grandpa Joe. Thank you, Mickelle. Thank you for sharing your voices and letting me simply sit and adore you. Our sessions were over much too soon!

Vacation as love letter, part 1 (for my #1)

The most fulfilling journeys begin with clear intent. That intent can take any of a number of forms—a question, a curiosity, a wish, a dream, a goal—but its purpose is to set things in motion, and to suggest a meaningful direction. It's okay if your intent evolves as you travel on; in fact, it's almost bound to happen, but you've got to get the wheels rolling on the road before you can steer the car.

Rob and I left town for a vacation October 21st and came home three nights ago. Our intent was to get away for some rest and relaxation, enjoy each other's company, and revisit some beautiful places that were very good for our souls a few years ago. We succeeded, I would say, in each of those goals except for the rest one. We cried wolf for a few weeks in September and October before we managed to tear ourselves away from work and life, but once we finally began to nail down plans and actually packed up our toothbrushes, things fell into their proper places quickly, and our intent sweetened and deepened and expanded, continuing through the whole of our trip. I felt changed before we even climbed into the car, and I feel changed now.

I have love letters inside to write to each day of our time off, to every person and place we adored along the way, but the letter my soul sends first and last and every step in between is the longest and lovingest of all, the one for my good travel mate. Oh, what a lot we learned in just two and a half weeks! I know we came home richer than we left, even if we spent our little travel fund dry. I'm certain we came home better equipped to love and work and be. I absolutely came home more hopeful, determined, and married. And more full of clear intent.

Here's a kiss for you, Rob, and another, and a fond pronouncement that honey, you ARE a trip. A very, very good trip.

Here's a hink pink for you: WET PET.

Rainy day drinks

I have two good recipes to share with you, used them both today. Hopefully you'll only have a need for the first, but just in case....

You're welcome.

Geo's Portable Good Earth Tea
1 0.5-liter thermos (I recommend this dreamy stainless steel Alfi, but you'll want to save up for it)
1 bag of Good Earth Original Caffeine-Free Tea
water
rice milk

Put on a kettle and boil some water. Leaving the string out, stuff a single tea bag into your thermos, pour in boiling water to within an inch or two of full. Close your thermos up and let the tea bag steep for 5-10 minutes. Open the thermos, remove the tea bag, and fill the rest of the space with rice milk. Now close up your thermos full of niceness and take it with you on an adventure, or enjoy it at home with elevensies.

Migraine Cure
2 Mexican Cokes
4 ibuprofen
1 assisted trip to bed
0 sounds
0 light
1 really big bowl, just in case
1 hot water bottle, or to taste
2 quilts made by somebody who loves you
1 careful back rub
1 blessing
1 hankie, clean and soft
1 telephone handset, set to Ringer Off

Mix together gently and immobilize for several hours till pain stops.

Tomorrow: a study of The Vacation as Love Letter. Stay tuned (and please stay well).

Parts that don't photograph

So we went on a vacation, and it was great. If you're someone who knows how I reacted to coastal Oregon my first time there you may have wondered if I would make good on my old dream of moving there, but I came home. I kept a journal every day as we traveled—mostly I wrote late at night, so it's going to be tough to go back and decipher that chicken-scratched fatigue-speak, but I expect some of my notes will find their way here. Tonight I'll mention a couple moments, not the stuff of scrapbooks, but for me very memorable. They took place on the first and third of three progressively sick days, which happened to coincide with a planned hike and many hours of driving from There to Home Again.

Moment #1: After climbing to the top of Multnomah Falls, I stood staring into the waters as they rushed over the rocks and down, down, down. It was there that an unusual impression came to me: the elements are my friends. Something seemed to say, Whatever comes your way in the future—if there are lonely times—you can always find support and friendship here. It seemed like a love declaration, an expression of family solidarity. From the earth. Huh.

Moment #2: On the long road between Nampa, Idaho and home, I was in lots of pain and was sadly no help at all with the driving. I flopped, a twisting turning passenger, trying to sit up and be company to Rob, trying to talk, trying to read, but quickly I had to go horizontal again, so I lowered my seat till it was nearly flat. As I lay back and breathed into the hurt, I sensed someone sitting behind me, female, very gently stroking my hair, the way you might do when you want to help someone relax or feel better, or when you're just being quiet and close. Another unexpected friend? Huh.

Okay. I'll take them where I find them when they're true.

Most of the other parts I'll share about our time in the Pacific Northwest are concrete experiences, stuff I actually took photos of (or at least could have if I'd been quick enough), the great fun we had, the wonderful visits we enjoyed with people we cherish, the lovely views we applauded, the interesting meals we ate, the beached jellyfish we poked at. So don't worry that I'm going all funny on you. Just a little funny. No more than usual.