“The Dog” Journal
Welcome to the Dog Journal, a blog where I periodically share my best finds for taming those puppies that gnaw at your planner.
Could be a quick time management tip, a smell-the-flowers moment, a comment overheard on the elevator. Whatever the inspiration, I hope you’ll blog right along with me by commenting and sharing your tips and stories for taming an overbooked life.
Visioning for 2010
It was hard to miss the metaphor. Four of us, holed up for a “visioning retreat” in a Morrow County farmhouse over the weekend, got stuck in the snow both coming and going.
On one level, as we looked out on sparkling white farm fields, we were inspired to plan 2010 with high hopes. On another, we were literally spinning our wheels.
As with all times of stuck-ness, there was plenty of advice.
“Gun the motor!”
“Turn the wheel the other way!”
“Try backing up!”
In the end it was a unified push from my friends that un-stuck the Prius from the top of the hill and sent her handily down the driveway.
Hard to miss the metaphor on that one.
New Year Starts With A Bang
Here’s to a Happy New Year! We started ours out with a bang this morning when, within a single hour, a favorite glass salad bowl exploded in the microwave and all the shelving in the guest room closet collapsed.
Do not ask what a salad bowl was doing in the microwave. Do not ask what we were storing on the shelves.
Suffice it to say that a Sunday morning that starts out with “Oh, my God. Are you hurt?” and “Oh, my God. What was that?” is not the godliest of Sunday mornings. But happily, as to the first question, no one was.
In the spirit of laughing away the chaos, I defer to the observation of my neighbor Barb, who was not within striking distance of either explosion and so could see the light side where I could not.
“Getting all that bad karma out of the way ahead of time is a good plan,” she said. “Just glad that no one was hurt while exorcising the evil.”
Ah, yes. A little exorcism to launch the New Year. Why didn’t I think of that?
A Thing Called Hope
Thanks to the Internet, holiday travels took us off the beaten path, discovering yesterday a small organic farm on the outskirts of Phoenix: The Farm At South Mountain.
There, expecting the usual scented soap and candles, I bumped into a treasure: a pile of vintage “postcards,” each with a saying capable of capturing someone’s heart.
I learned long ago that where quotations are concerned, the significance lies not so much in the words themselves but in which particular ones tug at the heart.
My personal tug came from Emily Dickinson, who was moved to write the following few lines more than a century ago:
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune – without the words,
And never stops at all.
I don’t know what prompted Emily to write these words, or what pulled me to read them over and over. But I pass them on to anyone who can use a bit of hope to propel you through the end of one year and into the beginning of the next.
Like hope, they are timeless.
Beware of Just Say No
I’m the first to say it’s important to learn to say no. After all, if we agree to do everything that’s proposed, we can find ourselves drowning in meaningless obligations.
But getting in a “just-say-no” habit can be a problem, too. I almost said no this past week with what turned out to be a delightful adventure: an overnight stay at The O’Neil House, a restored Akron mansion-turned-B&B.
The B&B stay was inspired by a low-cost continuing legal ed class that started early Friday morning in downtown Akron. It sounded more intriguing when I booked it, along with dinner with an old friend. When Thursday rolled around, the prospect of driving north in 18-degree weather and sitting through seven hours of class the next day seemed too much. “Just say no,” I whispered to myself, relishing nearly two days of found time.
Lured more by the dinner than the class, I said yes instead and enjoyed not only a fun reunion with a former Beacon Journal colleague but also an amazing mansion dressed to the nines with live poinsettias and lit Christmas trees – including one in my bedroom. The B&B owner, Gayle Johnson, also turned out to be an inspiration. She told me that 20 years ago, she retired from 30 years of teaching to save the mansion, which was headed for the wrecking ball. Ever since, she’s booked it with parties, including an elegant one on Thursday night, and has cooked up gourmet breakfasts for her guests. She loves what she does, and it shows.
No question, prioritizing has its place, and sometimes it’s good to just say no. But plunging in has its rewards. If you don’t believe me, ask Gayle Johnson.
