The feel of a yoga bag slung over my shoulder

So I mentioned in my last post feeling a bit down lately, but the mood turning around due to simple pleasures. I continued my mood odyssey with a commitment to head to yoga this morning. I saw the teacher, Sarah, on Pearl Street over the weekend and decided it was time to re-engage myself in this timeless, peaceful practice. So, I woke up, put on my yoga gear, and slung my yoga bag over my shoulder. And boy, did that feel good.

Purpose. Perhaps that is what has been missing in my life these past few weeks. Sure it is a luxury to have a summer off. However, if all I do is wander aimlessly trying to figure out how to spend the day then that aimless feeling invades my mind and heart, too. Aimlessness is good when I perhaps take a detour on a beautiful mountain road; or when I find myself on a walk only to discover a really beautiful garden or some other surprise. But daily aimlessness can, quite frankly, get me down.

I liked the fact that I woke up today with a purpose. To take a yoga class. My morning felt good, the ritual of getting ready got me feeling excited about the class. I started remembering how amazing yoga feels...the ebb and flow of relaxation intermingled with pushing my body to stretch and reach. That yoga bag symbolized a purpose, and that helped continue my mood toward a positive direction. My day continued to get better. I heard a new Coldplay song. I spent time with two of my favorite friends and their handsome boys. I spent time with mom and dad along with Chester and Stan, sipping tea and watching the boys be praised by grandpa and grandma. A little purpose goes a long, long way.

A little bit of whimsy

When I am down, I try to change things up a bit. I have been a bit in a downer mood of late, not sure why, but in an attempt to cheer up I took myself on a drive. I decided to head to Golden because I haven't been there in a while and love small towns. I endured the winding and windy Lookout Mountain Road along with several bicyclists and stopped along the way. I sat on a bench and enjoyed this view.

The wind brought that smell of the mountains-pine needles and fresh air-even though I was only a half hour out of Denver. It gave me that smile I needed.

When I got home, I purposefully looked around at the whimsy I have in my house. It is one reason I like living in a quirky, old home...my little bits of whimsy fit right in.
This is a birdcage I bought at the Botanic Gardens. I bought one for Meg because she deserves a bit of whimsy, too. It hangs in my dining room window.

These are some of my favorite handmade items. I made the collage last summer at the height of my artistic frenzy. Mia made both Valentines and gave them to me for Valentine's Day.

Finally, I added some butterflies to the back fence to give it a little pizazz.

Once I reminded myself of the role of whimsy in my life, I can happily say my down mood has turned around. One last piece of whimsy is this quote that describes me perfectly these days:
"Didn't you tie the mittens on her feet extra special nice? Yes--she is an extra special nice pigeon. She cries for pity when she wants pity. And she shuts her eyes when she doesn't want to look at you. And if you look deep in her eyes when her eyes are open you will see lights there exactly like the lights on the pastures and the meadows when the mist is drifting on a Wednesday evening just between the twilight and gloaming."
— Carl Sandburg (Rootabaga Stories)

The neighborhood Denver forgot?

I am a proud Denverite. I have lived in this city for 35 years (okay...33 1/2 counting my time in Glenwood Springs and Portland). I trust that I know every nook and cranny Denver and the metro area have to offer. I drove down streets before they became up and coming...in neighborhoods where I couldn't quite help feeling a little unsafe. These neighborhoods now are what we call up and coming...or gentrified...or hip. Places like the Highlands, City Park area, Lowry, Five Points were all too scary to drive in at one point, but now they offer coffee shops, restaurants, and cute, renovated houses.

Yesterday I drove through a neighborhood seemingly forgotten by Denver. I felt like I was in another world, or at least in a neighborhood in another city that was new to me. It felt isolated, alien...and I admit I was a wee bit nervous. I am talking about this pocket of residential living close to Washington street and Brighton Blvd. It is a neighborhood surrounded by gas stations, hardware stores, construction companies, the RTD office, a Fed Ex store. 44th, 45th and Lincoln, Sherman, Logan. I think it is called Globeville. I wound up in this neighborhood because of bad traffic on I-25. It wasn't moving so I got off at the 58th avenue exit. I was near my favorite garden center (Paulinos) and knew there was a way to get to Brighton Blvd but I couldn't quite remember. I followed the traffic into Globeville and was immersed in a neighborhood of houses with metal bars on the windows and desperately needed paint jobs. Kids and young men were wandering the streets and cars with dark windows bumped in front of and behind me. I finally found Brighton Blvd and made my way home...but I felt like I just drove through another world. I don't know if this will ever be and up and coming neighborhood. I think 5280 magazine at one point called this a great place to live, but I felt the sense of isolation that only poverty and being forgotten can create.

Gardening

"Unemployment is capitalism's way of getting you to plant a garden."~Orson Scott Card

I have been finding myself in gardening mode these past few days. Yesterday, mom, dad and I met at the cemetery to plant flowers around Mike's grave. I pictured him saying to me, "Finally! Real flowers instead of those cheesy fake ones you put around my grave."

We planted purple salvia, yellow coreopsis, lavender, and red and white petunias. I had found this stone after he died and it sits in the corner of the garden.

There is also Mr. Gnome who keeps an eye on the flowers and shoos away any deer, rabbits or other creatures that think a flower might make a good meal.

Mike's dad put up the most beautiful windchimes in "Mike's tree." (Mike is buried by a tree that I have claimed to be his.) They make the most beautiful sound in the breeze.

I finally put the finishing touches on my yard. I am looking forward to days of sitting and reading, entertaining, and the day to day maintenance the yard requires.

I began my day at the Denver Botanic Gardens. I should be the spokesperson for getting a membership. Everytime I go I find a different landscape. Plus, the coffee shop makes a killer cambric tea, and the gift shop has the best home and garden items (hint hint for future Christmas gifts...)

I have always found gardening to be a metaphor for life. Each day brings something new. The garden only thrives if it is taken care of...fed, watered, tended to. It has its seasons when it bursts with energy or needs some time to be dormant. But it comes back, year after year, as vibrant as ever.

Summer vacation has begun

Today was my first day of my summer vacation. I had a very busy last day of work, with students in and out of the office until 6:30pm. That feeling of busyness carried over to today, but in a really good way. I woke up earlier than usual, took the dogs on a walk, made my breakfast. I called potential internship sites and sent resumes via email. I ran some errands, and then went flower shopping for Mike's grave. Meg and I were to meet for a stroll and coffee at Southglenn but she had some car issues to deal with; we saw each other quickly in front of Whole Foods, lamenting a bit about when life throws us lemons, and she was on her way. I got a perfectly brewed cambric tea and bought a few groceries. I picked up the boys' heartworm meds and made it home in time to get ready to meet a friend for some early snacking. I am home now, but still have a list of things to do. Change the sheets, run the dishes, put clothes away.

It all sounds like I am busying myself but in reality I love days like this. I haven't been this productive and out-and-about in weeks. I haven't had this kind of energy. I am feeling this palpable excitement about the summer, even if some days are spent running errands or cleaning up. And this is just day one. I can't wait to see what unfolds each day.

Visions of a 3 day weekend dance in my head

To be honest, out of all the holidays, birthdays and anniversaries, Memorial Weekend is the toughest to get through since Mike died. We always anticipated the long weekend. We would sit on Friday night plotting our weekend. Saturday morning at 8am we would usually go to Paulino Gardens and I would buy all the flowers to plant for the summer; I would spend part of the weekend gardening. Maybe we would do some yard work, or complete a house project. Definitely go to a movie. Grill some salmon, take a long walk with the dogs. Mike was always in need of that extra day with the stress of his job, and I was in need of that extra day just to revel in him and me together.

This year I was determined to have some fun. The boys and I drove to Fort Collins on Saturday for a BBQ at a friend's house. We stayed in a pet friendly hotel and that actually worked out okay. But I was feeling a bit under the weather, thinking though that the sneezing and coughing were due to allergies. Sunday I walked to the Gaylord Street fair to meet the family for some dinner and to listened to the Billy McKay Band from Leftover Salmon(my uncle Bill McKay just passed away and we thought this would be a neat thing to do). I was still feeling under the weather but anticipating a BBQ and Bocce Ball today at mom and dad's. Well, I woke up with a full fledged virus, cold or something-coughing, sneezing, my chest burning, a tad achey and foggy. I had to call mom and tell her I wouldn't be at the BBQ-that I needed to rest and eat chicken soup. What a disappointment.

I do have one condolence to forfeiting the fun I hoped to have during this kickoff weekend to the summer...I am off for the summer. I don't have to think about a 3 day weekend, I have weeks on end to enjoy my time. Maybe I will start getting used to planning days and weekends alone, as I sometimes still feel like I need Mike to help plan days off. But until then, I sit with glasses of Emergen-c, People and Oprah magazines, and bowls of chicken soup, to re-energize myself and revel in some much needed down time.

Farethewell...until you do something even greater!

I have been watching the final Oprah show very slowly. Over the past few days, I play a segment here and there-I still haven't finished it yet. I am savoring her words of wisdom because, quite frankly, she has been someone I have looked up to for years. Her farewell show has felt like a one-on-one conversation with Oprah, telling me everything she has learned in this life.

One of the lessons she talked about is that we are each responsible for our own lives. That our sphere of influence is what surrounds us-friends, family, neighbors...that having a sphere of influence doesn't have to include being famous; it just means that we are each responsible for how we interact in the world. Another lesson she talked about is the importance of showing our good energy to the world. Oprah mentioned this sign a guest gave her that she hung in her dressing room: "Please take responsibility for the energy you bring into this space". What a great reminder of how we each impact everyone we come into contact with.

I am still turning her show off and on, listening to her lessons here and there. I am glad to have this episode saved in my DVR. It is one I can watch over and over again.