The Bag Lady ponders

I've been thinking about recent trips I've taken and what they've meant to me.

• One in August to Rockland, Maine, for our fifth six-day sail on the Schooner Heritage. 
• Two weeks later, to rural New York and a retreat for women who love a veteran. 
• Two weeks after that, to nearby Vashon Island, Washington for a first-time weekend with five other bloggers. 
• And next Monday, a six-day vacation in Akumal, Mexico, to snorkel and sun and explore ruins and celebrate the wedding of Art's daughter Laura.

When I think about the trips, I think about my life these days. I started this blog in January 2010 because I was six months away from quitting my job of 20 years. I was excited and terrified. I worried about the money - in spite of a reassuring spreadsheet - and wondered if I'd find enough to do. Nearly three years later, life looks quite different.

The Schooner Heritage is a favorite trip for us, even though it's not easy to get to Maine from Seattle - and nearly impossible on a budget. The sail is a source of deep relaxation for us, but for my husband Art it's a chance to help sail, and put on a costume to be a pirate one morning at breakfast (very embarrassing!!!), and eat comfort food and wonderful lobster. I think if we could only take one trip a year Art would choose this one. He's a very good sport about taking all my other travel suggestions, but this one's for him.

The New York retreat came up just a couple of months before, held by the wife of the psychotherapist who took Art and me to Viet Nam back in 2005, as a way to help Art heal from PTSD. That was a life-changing journey. We even wrote a book about it. A retreat just for the women, though - "they also serve who also stand and wait." The trip reminded me how grateful I am for the financial resources to take this trip, and of the opportunities that can happen for me if I'm willing to say "yes".

The Vashon retreat - with five bloggers I met through the written word before we saw each other face to fact - full of laughter and easy conversation. This virtual community has become a real place for me, where friends are found. We found that our written words reflected the people we really are. We six bloggers already knew each other by the time we arrived at our lodging.

And the trip to Mexico. We are so proud of daughter Laura's accomplishments and are delighted with Brian, the man she's chosen to share her life with. Five of Art's six children will be there next week, plus Laura's mom and stepdad and half brother, and Brian's family.  I'm grateful for this blended family I'm a part of - including the experience of planning a gathering with Laura's mom Nancy for when Laura and Brian come to visit in December! It reminds me that we really are all in this together. 

For me, travel isn't just about going places. It's about learning and growing, meeting people from other places, using my ordinary eyes and ears to experience the other-ordinary. When I worked, travel was about relaxation. Now it's about living. For some reason I hadn't thought about that until recently - in spite of the 22 trips we've taken since my last day of work in June of 2010.

When I'm home I'm learning and growing as well. Two weeks ago we hosted a Swiss family - a mother and three of her children - for four days at our home. We all talked and laughed and learned. I'm almost ready to be certified as a mediator - I brought my own talents to a new field and love how I can be useful in the community. We were interviewed last week by a journalist from a local paper. While we talked about our book, we found mutual interests. I've even agreed to speak briefly at a local event honoring veterans, and to donate a copy of the book to a silent auction. Again, it's about being willing to say "yes".

In January 2010, the Bag Lady saw only the money. She didn't see the life. And I look at the spreadsheet now. It's still pretty encouraging. Probably wouldn't be if we'd bought a new car, or an RV,  or seen the world from a first-class place instead of a sensible one. Fortunately, I'm fine with sensible.

Weekend of the Bloggers Six

It was actually Deb's idea that we get together - she writes the blog Catbird Scout.  We met at a Starbucks in Vancouver a couple of months ago. We compared the blogs we followed and developed a short list of ladies we might invite to a weekend gathering. I sent out an email, and within a couple of weeks we had six "yes" responses, a date - the weekend of October 5 - and a place - Lavender Hill Farm on Vashon Island, across the water from Seattle.

We arrived in two cars. DJan - of the blogs D-Janity and Eye on the Edge - and Jann of Benchmark 60 came to my house, and we carpooled to Seattle.  Deb and Sandi - who writes Flying Into the Light - drove north from Vancouver together.  Both groups got thoroughly lost between their points of origin and the Fauntleroy-Vashon Island ferry, arriving two hours later than expected.

I was one of the hapless drivers. I've lived in the Seattle area for 25 years but was unable to navigate the 20-minute route between the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport, where we picked up Sally - who writes Retired English Teacher and flew in from Colorado Springs - and the ferry. As a former type-A personality and perpetual achiever, it was a humbling experience. In our car we had two iPhones, a GPS and a MapQuest printout. We trusted the electronic devices; we should have relied upon the printout.

So here we are. Three of us prepared a Friday night meal of butternut ravioli, veggies and salad and a berry dessert. We had a great Saturday breakfast at The Hardware Store in Vashon, explored the Saturday Farmer's Market, drove to Robinson Point Light Station to walk on the driftwood-strewn beach. All along we're talking - as a group or in pairs or trios. Back at Lavender Hill, we visited an estate sale or sat on the porch. And a long afternoon with the six of us on the porch until the afternoon chill chased us indoors again.

About each other before this weekend, we knew only what each of us had blogged; what we knew we had in common was professional women at or near retirement. We'd followed each other's blogs for the most part. More than half of us have lost a child.  All but one of us live in the Pacific Northwest. Four of us are educators.

Now we know more. We've had conversations about things not in our blogs. We have more in common than we knew. We feel more connected now than we did before this weekend.

Next year we want to meet again. Maybe in Colorado. Maybe we'll make a longer list and send an email to a few more women.

My happy place

Sometimes, in my life, I look at what's happening and how I'm feeling, and I know I'm in my happy place.  My life is balanced, my health is good, my activities interesting, and my relationships rewarding. I used to think I had to work really hard to find such a state, or find the magic formula. As I've gotten older, it's not so hard - it's almost like a gift from the universe to those of us further on in life.

A blogging friend, Galen Pearl, has written a book called 10 Steps to Finding Your Happy Place (and Staying There). It's also the name of her blog, where much of her book originated. I got a copy of the book recently, with a request that I write a review. I read it in a couple of days. In her introduction, Galen says, "Happiness is not a destination, not something to be pursued. It is the way we live." The 10 Steps in her book, and the multiple two-page sections in each Step, are descriptions, ideas, experiences, wisdoms, and commentary. Galen includes short quotes from various sources; one example in her introduction is "A man travels the world over in search of what he needs and returns home to find it." (George Moore)

As I read the book, I thought it would be lovely to read one short piece each morning as part of my quiet time, as a useful reminder of one way to be in the world, at times when I think all I am is a maker and executor of to-do lists.

My favorite chapters? Step 2 in Galen's list is "Decide if You Want to Be Right or Happy". I actually discovered the wisdom of putting "being right" way down on my list of ways to live when I was in my 50s. Life-long Achiever, you know. And Step 8 is "Forgive Everyone". I resisted that idea for many, many years. It wasn't until a visit to my great grandfather's grave a year ago that I finally got it. Reading the sections of Step 8 in Galen's book reminded me of the gifts I get when I take that Step. These two Steps, in particular, remind me of recent ways I've grown.

Galen includes pieces of her own life to illustrate the Steps. She remains an optimist even after facing many challenges. I couldn't say, "Well, of course she has Happy Steps. She hasn't had a lot of hardship in her life." But she's had her share.

10 Steps to Finding Your Happy Place (and Staying There), by Galen Pearl. Optimistic and wise. Worth a read!

Loving a veteran

I flew to Albany, New York last Thursday, and spent the weekend at a retreat in the deep countryside with ten other women. The attendees were wives, mothers or daughters of veterans - from Vietnam to Afghanistan - or active duty military Afghanistan. I was the oldest by less than a year; the youngest was probably in her late 20s. It was an education for me.

My husband has post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and tinnitus (ringing in the ears) from his time in Vietnam.   He has sought and received help for the PTSD, returned to Vietnam in 2005 as part of his psychological healing, and lives a busy life today - but neither of his diagnoses will ever go away. I can sometimes observe the impact of his war experience on him, but there's not much I can do about it except listen if he wants to talk - and leave him alone if he doesn't.

The other husbands have PTSD at least. They also have amputated limbs, scarred or mutilated body parts, and/or traumatic brain injury (TBI), which manifests in headaches, dizziness, memory loss or insomnia. And even though the men have injuries making them ineligible for deployment, most of them want to go back to the war zone - even though they may have been deployed half a dozen times or more in recent years.

The family members of these injured veterans carry much of the burden, both at home and as they do what they can do get help for their men.  For a veteran with TBI and its associated memory loss, the requirements of filling out a multitude of forms to quality for medical help are overwhelming; that duty may fall to the family member who is also keeping the family home together and may have a full-time job as well.

I felt honored to spend the weekend with these women. I wondered whether I could cope with the challenges they face. 

When I got the email describing the retreat I knew I was supposed to go, but I didn't know why. Now that I'm back home, I feel changed in some way, but I haven't identified what that change is about. Maybe it's knowing more and realizing how very lucky I am. Maybe it's a connection with other women who love veterans. Maybe it's the beginning of some new commitment on my part. I remember my commitment to say "yes" in my life and I wonder what the next "yes" will be.

It's in the air

Fall, that is. And the crows. And maybe smoke.

The weather is still warm, but with a cool tinge, if that's possible. The afternoon shadows are longer. And the bunches of grapes - first time for these guys on our three-year-old plants - are turning from green to lavender and sweetening up, but the grape leaves are getting yellow. It's like the fruit is racing the fall to ripen.

Every evening at dusk, hundreds of crows take wing from their trees in these several suburbs, heading southeast. Apparently they're all heading for a convention or gathering of some sort.  This evening Art and I tried to follow them. Maybe to an open area on a golf course? Maybe to trees along a slough? The crows were so numerous we figured it would be easy to find where they landed. We were wrong, though. At a certain point they all just vanished. As we drove back, we saw another hundred or so still headed to the gathering place. It must just be their secret. We decided that next summer, when the days are very long, we'll take bicycles and see if we have better luck.

Fires are burning in Central Washington. Art told me the sun rose flaming red this morning. And his eyes are itching. I said the wind never blows from east to west where we live. He said it did this morning.

We have a dozen apples on our two-year-old tree. I thinned them early in the summer and dumped a hundred or so of the gumball-sized apples into our yard waste bin. They were growing too close to the healthiest apple on the branch, so they got removed. I think I should make some applesauce. But I'll need jars and lids and about a case of apples. Maybe I'll do that next year at about this time.

Today I sent emails to three radio stations, reminding them that Veterans Day is coming up in just a couple of months and telling them I've got the perfect book to remember the day. I feel exposed, sending my name and phone number and email out like that. But no more exposed than in the book.

Next Thursday I'm scheduled to fly to Albany, New York, to attend a retreat for women who have a veteran in their life. It's just for us, this time. I wonder if anyone will remember to pick me up at the airport when I get there. I wonder if I'll be the oldest woman. I wonder if I'll remember the weekend as a life-affirming experience or as four legs of a five thousand mile flight.

Lots of wondering. Maybe that's what's in the air.

Home from Maine

I love Maine! I love arriving by rental car, or regional bus, or nine-passenger Cessna. Especially in the late summer, when we sometimes go on a six-day schooner cruise. That happened last week.

We board on Sunday night. We set sail on Monday and arrive back at the dock the following Saturday. In between, we sail, and eat, and visit small towns, and have lobster on a "desert island". At night, we climb into narrow bunks in our tiny room.  We share a marine head with 10 other people, and we use the hand-held shower in another head. We sail under blue, blue skies and in summer storms. We get sunburned and then tanned. We relax, and we talk to new friends, and we relax some more. And then eat again. And maybe nap, or help sail, or read a book.

We had a 17-hour travel day on Monday: six hours on a bus from Searsport to the Boston airport, a four-hour wait for our flight, and nearly six hours in the sky. I love Maine! But it was great to see our beautiful Seattle out the window of our descending plane.

Here are a few pictures sent to us by a new friend. You can find out more about our sail on www.schoonerheritage.com.

Art helping to tack

Waiting for the picnic

The crew dances behind the cooked lobsters

Captain Doug Lee with Pirate Art

New friends

Almost ready

Almost ready to go, that is. We leave early in the morning and by tomorrow at this time we'll be in our berth on the Schooner Heritage, which sails on Monday out of Rockland, Maine. This will be our fifth sail in the last ten years on the Heritage. Deeply familiar and relaxing, wonderful food, with old friends and probably new ones.

My book Return to Viet Nam is on the shelf at Third Place Books, a large independent bookstore in north Seattle. It's on consignment and I'll make no money having it there. But if people hear about the book - by media or by word of mouth - the bookstore will order more from their distributor. So it's up to me. The week when we get back I'll be contacting the local talk radio stations and the local newspapers. I'll say, "I've written a book about a Viet Nam veteran and his journey of healing. In the weeks before Veterans Day, it would be good for veterans and their families to hear about it." We'll see what happens.  I've been told radio stations and local newspapers look for timely fill pieces. That same week I'll talk to three other bookstores and see if they'll carry it. The library will carry it if they get hold requests. I figure, if it's supposed to happen, it will.

I made the final payment on the Vashon Island house where I'll be spending an October weekend with five other bloggers. My virtual friends, soon to be face-to-face ones.

I'm now working directly with a Kenyan travel arranger for a summer visit to Kenya and Tanzania. I've found a way to cut the costs - either by shortening the trip a bit, or by having two or three other people sign up to go. I've got a friend interested. We'll see!

A couple from Knoxville - we met them on our road trip this spring - will be staying at our house, watering various plants and keeping company with our Designer Cat, Larisa. Ruth and Dave are delighted to be spending time in my part of the world, especially in August when we almost always have glorious weather. It's 60 degrees outside now, and I'm still a little warm. Ruth, however, has on socks and a sweater. Something must happen to the blood of Pacific Northwesterners over time.

I'm taking my iPad but not my laptop. I wonder how I'll do being partially disconnected!