Just about exactly a year ago I wrote a post called "Downsizing: a difference of opinion". I talked about our big house, our eight kids grown and gone, icy stairs and driveways to fall on, and the "stuff" we've accumulated. You can read that blog post here.
A lot remains the same now, a year later. But there are changes in the wind.
When we got back from Tucson in April, after five months away, we were very aware of how much the traffic has increased in the Seattle. How many apartments are being built, without a corresponding expansion of the road system. Real estate values are sky high - "a new Silicon Valley" is one description I've heard - and some people have even been priced out of the rental market, contributing to the homeless situation. In the parking lot of my church there are nine spaces reserved at night for women - with or without children - living in their cars. We provide a safe place to sleep and shower.
It doesn't feel much like home here now.
So I started exploring the possibility of a move. At first I looked at downsizing to a smaller house in this area, or a condo, but it's all expensive. Then I thought about an apartment for a year or so. Art and I looked at several and found one we like. But we'd have to sign a 13-month lease even though we'd be gone for five months of that time. And the apartment rent is a bit higher than our mortgage! Also, parking is an issue, as are roads getting to the complex from the congested freeway. Still, it's an option.
Then we began talking about a full-time move to Tucson. We already have our little place there, furnished and equipped with everything we need and want. And, close by in the same 55+ resort are manufactured homes, quite a bit larger and much, much cheaper than anything here in Washington.
We could do that. In the current housing market our place would sell quickly and for almost four times as much as we paid for it 23 years ago. But we'd have to get rid of our "stuff" - if not before we put the house on the market, then before escrow closed six weeks later and we had to move.
I called Rhys, a real estate agent who goes to my church. He came over for a walkthrough. We were encouraged, though daunted by the magnitude of the getting-ready-to-sell part. He recommended a friend who is a decluttering coach. I made an appointment. Penni came over today and spent two hours with us.
Oh, my goodness. She had fabulous ideas. A strategy to help Art overcome his reluctance to rehoming or disposing of his possessions. A suggested order for doing things, and which of us would be responsible for what. By the time she left, Art was smiling and so was I.
With this plan in place, Art and I have committed to work on "right sizing" for two hours a day. It will take the time it takes. It will take calling 1-800-GOT-JUNK?, and hiring someone to go to the dump multiple, multiple times, and putting a "free" sign in the parking areas, and donating to Salvation Army and Habitat for Humanity, and asking family and friends if they want anything, and finding a company that does estate sales.
Most likely our house won't go on the market until next spring. But when I made that prognostication to Art tonight he said, "Maybe sooner."
My May 30 post was called "Drenched in Privilege." I wrote it after a day in Olympia, the state capital, serving as a "peace keeper" for protesters in the Poor People's Campaign. My first-ever protest participation.
Usually I get about 300 "hits" on my blog posts, and most of them happen in the first four or five days. The May 30 post has gotten 913 as of today. Astonishing!
I think what's happened is that people are sharing the post from Facebook, because my blog posts go there too. I'm guessing that my thoughts on privilege - something I apparently have but didn't realize it until a couple of years ago - are waking up other people like me. I hope it's not because the rest of the world is laughing at how clueless I have been.
I've seen the word "woke" more often in the last few weeks than before, and I think it means we're becoming awakened or aware of situations around us that we never thought much about before. And I think that's where change will happen.
I've got some other changes going on right now:
Thinking about selling our Washington house and living small. That means getting rid of 23 years of stuff.
Planning for just the two of us in our household again, after several years of offspring tenants.
Becoming more aware of LGBTQ issues as a result of the coming out of people I know.
And oh, you know, those aging issues.
I like to think I'm open to change. I guess what's really the case is I'm open to SOME change. Especially the kind of change I choose myself. The change I don't choose is a little harder.
I wonder how many of the 913 are having similar thoughts.
Here's another change. How did it ever happen that I got old enough to have two grandchildren graduating from high school?
I can't take credit for the title of this post. I heard it just this week for the first time. Until two years ago, I didn't realize I was a person of privilege. To my mind, that meant country clubs and expensive cars and a glamorous lifestyle. I have never been that, nor would I want to. What I had instead was a childhood as the daughter of a military officer. A university education. Not one day without enough to eat or a place to sleep. Enough money to pay the bills even when I was the single mother of two boys and without work for a few months. A job with good benefits and a decent retirement income. I never thought much about it. I knew there were problems of discrimination and poverty and multiple other human difficulties in the United States and the rest of the world. I sympathized with all those affected by such things. I donated money to the Red Cross and Doctors Without Borders and Habitat for Humanity and for several years sent money each month to some Children's Fund to support a child in an impoverished part of the world. Two years ago I was having dinner with six other women in Chautauqua, New York. We were discussing privilege, and I finally got it. I said, "I am just now realizing I am privileged." There was silence around the table and then one woman, Denny, said, "I commend you for your courage in acknowledging that around this table, to women you have just met." A month later I made my first trip to Greece, to volunteer for six days in a refugee camp (I had planned this trip before I went to Chautauqua). I bought my ticket with frequent flyer miles. I was the oldest volunteer and lacked the stamina of the younger ones. I spent several hours each day in the air conditioned container that was the staff office. Fortunately, the director found me useful working with her. The other volunteers worked in the sweltering warehouse, distributing food and clothing to refugees. Two months later I went back, this time for two weeks. And last year, I returned two more times, for a month each time. On my last two visits, I did two-week stints as vacation relief for the camp director. I took my husband with me, and we paid for our tickets from a travel savings account. On these journeys to the camp, there was not one day when I didn't have enough to eat or a place to sleep. I shared a bathroom with eight other people, but had a hot shower each day. And wonderful food in the nearby village. And, sometimes, gelato. I know now that we are all the same, no matter where we live or what kind of roof - or none - is over our heads when we sleep. Or where we were born, or how we worship - or not. I knew it not because I had read about it or watched it on the media, but because I had sat with refugee residents of the camp, and volunteers from around the world, and local Greek citizens. We are all the same. Really.
I belong to a progressive spiritual community. On Memorial Day this week some of our members participated in The Poor People's Campaign: A National Call for Moral Revival". This movement was initiated by Dr. William Barber- whom I had heard speak at Chautauqua - using Martin Luther King's work as a model. The Poor People's Campaign is led by people of color, with support by others. So Monday, we were led by two people of color in Olympia, but the 16 people who sat in the intersections were white and mostly middle aged or older. The theme for this week is "The War Economy", and talks were given on the steps of the capitol about the cost of US defense - in money and in lives - and on gun violence. I was a "peace keeper" and wore a yellow vest. My job was to protect the protesters if agitators were present. From the beginning of the event, the police watched us - some on bicycles, others in vehicles with flashing lights. We marched, chanting and singing. We took over four consecutive intersections in Olympia while the police positioned themselves strategically to manage and divert traffic. The leaders wanted some of us to be arrested for civil disobedience, but that did not happen in the first three intersections. We finally surrounded a police car in the intersection just before freeway onramps to north I-5 (Seattle) and south I-5 (Portland). At one time there were 19 police vehicles with lights flashing.
And the protesters sat for over two hours before they were finally arrested. Remember, there were no people of color on the ground. Just older white people. Here's what the Reverend Cecilia Kingman said last night:
I can’t sleep tonight. I can’t stop thinking about Sandra Bland. I can’t stop thinking about white privilege.
Today I led an action of civil disobedience in which we blocked a freeway on ramp, and then surrounded a police vehicle (which we then realized was the vehicle belonging to the Captain of the Washington State Patrol). In spite of our disruptive actions, police took hours to arrest us, gave us multiple warnings, and were polite and warm. They even asked if we needed to use the bathroom, and asked if we were comfortable.
They asked me how I wanted the arrests to go. Seriously! They did everything but offer us a cup of coffee.
Sandra Bland, SAY HER NAME, was pulled over for failure to use her turn signal, and died three days later in her jail cell. Her turn signal!
I was utterly drenched in my white privilege today. I could hardly get arrested, the cops were so reluctant. Hey y’all, if a bunch of young people of color had done what we did today, they would have been dragged by their hair. Or worse.
I’m sick to my stomach tonight.
I can’t wait for my court date.
Even better, I can’t wait to get back in the streets, ready to do whatever our leaders of color ask of me.
And on the same day, in Oinofyta, Greece, refugees blocked the road in front of the camp, which reopened in March with inadequate living conditions. Here's what Lisa Campbell, Do Your Part's Executive Director and now my friend, had to say:
Tensions at the Oinofyta camp have finally come to a head. The residents are blocking the road, demanding to speak with journalists and refusing to move until they have told their story. Please share this to raise awareness.
UPDATE: representatives from the ministry of migration came. They told the residents they would not speak with them until they open the road. So the road is now open and a small group of residents is speaking with the representatives. The residents have said that if they are not satisfied with the negotiations they will close the national road next.
UPDATE 2: Conversations were had with the ministry officials to air the residents complaints and requests. The main request is for the most vulnerable to be removed to housing. Promises were made. Things have calmed down, for now. We will see. I hope this is the beginning of a major improvement in the situation in the camp.
When we left Olympia on Monday at 9:30 pm - after the 16 protesters had been arrested and then released immediately, my feet and legs were very tired and sore. When I got home I took a hot shower and slept in my own bed. The next morning I mediated a session in small claims court, then came home and took a warm bath and a nap.
A few years ago I identified the primary values which, if I prioritized and then practiced them, resulted in my feeling pretty good about my life: in order, they are spirituality, health, community, curiosity, and purpose.
When I am feeling out of sorts or out of balance I try to look at these values and see where my life is not aligned with them. I never have a problem with community, curiosity or purpose; I seem naturally inclined to incorporate these into my life. I almost always find that spirituality and health are where I am falling off. I've tried in the past to move them lower in my priority list, but then I pay even less attention to them. They really need to be at the top of the list.
I have a 12-step program which I practice most of the time, and that provides a guide for my spiritual well being. I also have a Unitarian Universalist community which identifies itself as "standing on the side of Love." For this first priority of mine, the most important thing is that I show up. And I usually do.
Health is the second priority. At my last checkup, my doctor confirmed that all of my health concerns - sleep apnea, hypertension, and asthma - are at least partly the result of my extra weight. "If you were to lose even 30 pounds, most of these health issues would be diminished." And I recently learned from my dentist's office that I have extra soft tissue in my throat that makes my airway narrower. The only way to fix that is to lose weight.
So weight loss is not just cosmetic or wanting to wear the clothes on the right-hand side of my closet that will fit "in about eight pounds". It's about relieving my sleep apnea, lowering my blood pressure, minimizing my asthma, and breathing easily.
I recently watched a mindfulness video by Dr. Kelly McGonigal about habits that form "default states" and how to consciously create new ones. You know the saying, "When the student is ready, the teacher will appear"? Well, this student is ready. I won't go into the details of Dr. McGonigal's talk here. Suffice it to say that I have initiated a strategy to align my values with what I actually do. It's about pairing up things I enjoy with things I don't.
Here's the deal: I want to eat fruits and vegetables, but also cheese and Healthy Choice fudge bars and Costco unsalted mixed nuts. I want to play Candy Crush on my laptop and my phone. I want to maintain an active presence on Facebook. I want to watch Netflix with my husband at night.
So this is my plan, derived from Dr. McGonigal's video:
I want to eat Healthy Choice fudge bars in the evening - one or a few. But I will only do that if I have gotten enough exercise during the day. I use my Fitbit and the Weight Watchers point system to determine whether and how many. No exercise, no fudge bars. This part of my plan has gotten me out of the house for my two-mile walk for the last two days, and it was easier today than it was yesterday.
I want to learn Spanish in the next two years, so that when I volunteer at the asylum clinic in Tucson I can communicate with our clients without an interpreter. I am using Duolingo and Rosetta Stone as tools to do that. But on my computer I would rather play Candy Crush. So I will not play Candy Crush in a day until I have done three exercises in both Duolingo and Rosetta Stone. No Spanish practice, no Candy Crush. That has worked for the last two days, and it was easier today than yesterday.
I recently had a laser procedure done to tighten the soft tissue in the back of my throat. It's to prevent snoring. The doctor who did the procedure gave me exercises for twice a day, several days each week, to strengthen the muscles in my tongue, jaw, neck and throat. If I don't do the exercises, I'll need a repeat of the procedure in two years. If I do the exercises, I probably won't. But I don't like doing the exercises. They take about 15 minutes and they're an annoying interruption in my day.
Guess what I found out today on my two-mile walk? If I do the exercises while I'm walking, it's easier for me to breathe on the hills! Who knew?
Back to my plan:
I like to check Facebook in the morning. But I won't do that unless I've done the morning exercises prescribed for the day.
I like to watch Netflix with my husband in the evening. But I won't do that unless I've done the evening exercises prescribed.
We've been home from our winter place in Tucson for two weeks now. I am finally settled into our family home in a suburb just north of Seattle. Here's what's happened so far.
1. I have Kaiser Permanente - an HMO - for medical insurance. Kaiser doesn't do business in Arizona, so I went nearly six months knowing that, except for urgent or emergency care, I'd have to cover medical expenses myself or fly home. Last year I was diagnosed with asthma, and I paid $950 for the diagnosis and treatment. If we decide to move to Arizona full time, I'll need to change my Medicare provider.
Anyway, I've been to Kaiser four times in the last two weeks to catch up with myself.
To the optometrist for a vision check. I've had cataract surgery in both eyes, and sometimes a film develops on the lens afterwards. Last year an ophthalmologist removed the film in my right eye but said the left eye wasn't "ready" yet. This year, the optometrist said it is. So I was able to get a referral for the ophthalmologist.
To the ophthalmologist for the five-minute procedure. Easy, and now the eyestrain that has bothered me for two months is gone.
For a mammogram - results normal.
To the audiologist for a hearing test. Apparently other people think I need hearing aids. The test results are almost the same as five years ago. No hearing aids needed yet. Apparently "other people" need to stop mumbling!
2. I got back into my summer mediation routine: mediated at small claims court in my county, did a role-play for the mock mediation for a mediator in training, and signed up to coach a mediator in training at a local high school. I've been certified as a mediator for over five years, and I still love it.
3. I am reminded of the meaning of a "family home". One of our eight kids has been renting a room for three years, while he went to nursing school. He is ready to move to his own place, but housing in the Seattle area is very expensive and competitive. A second of our kids lived here for a month or so before he moved out earlier this spring; I can tell he was here by the stuff left in his room and the less-than-spotless bathroom. The husband of our oldest daughter is staying with us while starting up his business and waiting to take possession of the house they bought; he's very easy to have around and works long hours. I suspect the husband of my niece will be with us for a few days, as they are moving from Tucson in June and he'll need to scout around for a place for them to live. I have invited a friend to stay here for a week in late June as she recovers from surgery.
These people are all welcome here. We have plenty of room. If we sell this house and move to Tucson full time, the story will change.
4. One of our cars spent the winter in the garage but needs servicing for a recall issue. The carpets need cleaning. And the windows. I did the maintenance on the raspberry bed, while one son and one neighbor have made the yard and garden presentable.
5. We have eaten in all but one of our favorite restaurants: Talay Thai for Thai; Tai Ho for Chinese; Las Espuelas for Mexican; Brier Family Restaurant for fish and chips; Voula's for breakfast. Next up is...wait for it...Taco del Mar for Baja bowls.
6. We have resumed ordering fresh fruits and vegetables from our CSA. A box of great food arrives on our front porch every Friday.
So we are home for the summer. But we are waiting.
There is something of a chance we'll be making one more trip to Greece. Maybe in July. But we won't know for a couple of weeks. To that end, we will be sending in our passport renewals tomorrow. Did you know we're no longer supposed to smile when our passport photos are taken?
There is something of a chance we will be getting our house ready to sell this summer. If that happens, we'll be doing very little else.
I am very aware that the days are longer here now than in Tucson; that we're in the most beautiful part of the year here; that there hasn't been as much rain as we expected since we got home. But the traffic is worse than it was this time last year. There is lots of apartment construction without a corresponding increase in road capacity. Property taxes have risen substantially.
Yep, we are waiting to see what we'll be doing this summer.
I flew home to Seattle yesterday after six months in Tucson. Our house here is large; we bought it 23 years ago when our eight-kid blended family was growing up. Our place there is small; a park model (trailer) we bought four years ago - after two years of renting it - when we decided we wanted to spend our winters at the Voyager, a 55-plus RV resort.
The autumn transition to Arizona is always easy. We're returning to a simple but active life, with friends who are doing the same. Everyone is glad to see each other.
The spring return to our town, Brier, isn't so easy. I'm always amazed and overwhelmed by how much Stuff we have, and how little of it we use. I love the green beauty in this part of the country, but not the traffic. Our friends here have gone on with their lives without us for six months, and we need to kind of ease back in.
This year it's a little different. We have begun to think about selling our Washington home and relocating permanently to Tucson. Seriously thinking. Art is "still listening", but he says I can ask him once a week whether he is shifting from listening to thinking to planning. There will be a lot to do if we make the decision to sell and move.
Over the last six years we have come to think of our Tucson place as our second home. Not just a winter getaway. We love the little place we've fixed up to our liking. We love the Voyager community. We love the city of Tucson. Except for the beastly hot summers - which I think we can avoid - and the more conservative politics - which I hope we can influence.
Of course we love Seattle too. The physical beauty, the friends we have made here, our volunteer activities, the knowledge that four of our grown kids live in the area.
The family home here in Brier has stairs. Two sets. And a steep driveway. And a big yard. Too much for us these days, I think.
I'm pretty sure there's a family looking for a house like ours. And the Seattle housing market is sizzling right now. So next week, when I ask Art, I hope he'll be moving into his planning phase.
When we moved into this house I was 46 years old. I had never in my life lived in any house for longer than six years. This Brier place has been home, and part of my heart will remain here.
I never thought of myself as a woman of influence, but I guess I am. Here are three stories:
1. I have a friend named Ellen. I met her at a Habitat for Humanity build seven years ago in Lafayette, Louisiana. We became Facebook friends. She visited us briefly in Tucson several years ago. Then, last spring, Art and I decided to go to Greece for a month to volunteer at a refugee camp there. We decided to leave Larisa, our Designer Cat, at our place in Tucson while we were gone, since she'd already been there with us for five months.
I posted on Facebook that we were looking for someone to stay in our Tucson place to keep company with Larisa while we were gone. Ellen said she would like to do that. She drove from Fayetteville, Arkansas, where she has lived for the last 12 years. Before we left I introduced her to one of my friends. By the time we got back from Greece, Ellen had bought a place in our community! She said, "I have made more friends here in the last six weeks than I did in Fayetteville in 12 years." She went home for the summer, preparing to return in the fall, but decided to sell her Fayetteville house and move to Tucson permanently!
Ellen says she wouldn't be living here if it weren't for me. It is very nice to have her here.
2. We have friends named Shirley and Tom. We met them through a hospitality exchange group; we stayed with them twice at their place in Henderson, Nevada, when we were still driving between Seattle and Tucson for the winter. We became Facebook friends. Shirley and Tom sold their Nevada place and became housesitters for a year or so, then decided they'd like a permanent base from which to travel. They checked out the Voyager, the 55+ resort where we live in the winter, and looked online at all the places for sale here. They found one they liked and watched, hoping the price would drop. It did. They made plans for Tom to fly down to see it.
Shirley texted me to tell me about the plan. I said, "Would you like me to go over and check it out?" Shirley said yes and I did. A neighbor was watering the yard and had a key. I went in and looked around and asked the neighbor lots of questions. I texted Shirley and suggested she call me. She did. I told her what I thought and she asked the neighbor some questions herself. Then we hung up.
Two hours later Shirley texted me again. She and Tom had made an offer on the phone without even seeing the place, based on our conversation and pictures they'd seen. They arrive next month.
It's a little intimidating being a woman of such influence!
3. I've been thinking for several years that it might be time to sell our family home in Washington and find something smaller, and without stairs, and without a steep driveway and a big yard. My husband Art has not been at all ready for that. For the last six years we have spent the winter in Tucson. The first year we were there two months, then three, then four. This year we will have been here five months and three weeks when we fly home next Saturday.
Yesterday we looked at a resale manufactured home about three quarters of a mile from where we live now in our park model. The home is in the same 55+ resort. It is on one level, with an open floor plan, a great kitchen and a small low-maintenance yard. Actually, I looked first with my friend Ellen, then took Art over. We spent 45 minutes talking to the current owners.
Then Art and I talked. We still want to spend our summers in Washington. Several of our children and grandchildren live there, and the summer weather is glorious, with long daylight hours and very little rain. We had considered buying a smaller place, but housing prices in the Seattle area are very high. Then we considered leasing. In either case, though, the residence would sit empty for most of the year (a winter away and travel at other times can do that).
Then I thought about Airbnb and checked it out. We could rent a place for three months. Not just in Washington, but just about anywhere. That would get us out of the most daunting months of Arizona's summer.
Then I thought, well, what if one of us dies? Which is a certainty. And just this morning I remembered: there are always independent living or assisted living places if they're needed. And they could be in Washington.
So, if we sold our Washington home, we wouldn't be exiling ourselves from Washington or from our family. We would be freeing ourselves from our financial and upkeep obligations to a house we are, more and more, not living in.
This is not quite dreaming. Because we could either buy the place we looked at yesterday, or we could stay in the park model, which has been our winter residence for six years and which we like very much.
The most important thing, to me, is that both of us can see where we might step next. It's no longer "Let's rightsize and then maybe move to a smaller place." Instead, it might be "Let's get ready to move."
We may not move physically. But we are moving forward toward a lighter lifestyle. It's no longer me nagging a reluctant husband. It's both of us looking at the possibilities.