Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Make Your Day

Aunt Martha's Pattern 3753, Detail
Unsure about what needs doing today? Consult Aunt Martha's embroidery patterns. They advise the stay-at-home person what to do each day of the week. Laundry Monday. Shopping Thursday. Housecleaning Friday. Simple. Organized. Done. Start Over.

Unrelated to these images (I think...), for a long time I cleaned my apartment or house every Thursday night and I cooked every Sunday. I loved this routine. I upped the volume and sometimes downed a little wine. Thursday cleaning meant the weekend was almost here and that my place was ready for it. Sunday cooking helped me learn how to cook and meant I'd eat well for the first few days of the work week. This routine also meant I didn't worry much about cleaning and cooking the rest of the time. I'd get to each at the times I'd set aside for them.
 
Now our days are often over scheduled and fragmented. We rarely get long stretches for personal tasks or hobbies. (Who even has a hobby?) Worse, those things we want to explore and develop--the things missing from our lives--get only stolen moments. We can't seem to shove other things out of the way to get to them.
 
So here's what I'm thinking. Assign those missing things a day of the week. Art Wednesday. Dream Business Thursday. See the World Friday. You get the idea. Even if you can't spend hours on the day's theme, let it simmer in the back of your mind. Maybe all you can manage on Art Wednesday is to google Marcel Duchamp, and on Dream Business Thursday is to toss around exciting possibilities while you cook dinner.

That's fine. At least you're inviting these new things into your life. Even if you can't give them any time the rest of the week.

***

I have no idea what the cowboy dog, below, is up to, but his life looks more exciting than the chicken's life.



Aunt Martha's Pattern 3981, Detail

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Guessabout at One Year


Just over a year ago, I launched this blog, guessabout. It's been a pleasure to share thoughts on its theme, as stated in the first post:
"Guessabout is about making our best guesses given life's many unknowns and moving parts. It's also about how all the unknowns and moving parts make life dynamic, mysterious, scary, delightful and exciting."
Thank you so much for reading and for sharing your comments here and on Facebook. I deeply appreciate it.

Recent experience reminds me to, let's say, respect the mystery and variations of life. No one wants to hear some officious prig--standing at a lectern or sitting across a dinner table--spew some precise but narrow rant. I don't trust that attitude, even if I find it hard to argue details with such people. It's judgemental and very limited. Life is an unfolding mystery, and no matter how much we know for sure (and we should learn as much as possible), there's always more that remains elusive.

Nobody communicated this better than Carl Sagan, in his intro to the Cosmos series. Since this series aired, some of the science has progressed, and the video style and music are outdated. But for me, his core view of life rings as true now as it did then. It's worth a listen.

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Envelope


"Life," said Virginia Woolf, "is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end."
 
 

Monday, October 1, 2012

Short Tasks and Predictable Outcomes

Last week I worked hard on one task, shelved that half-finished work, and shifted gears to work on a new task. I enjoy working my way through challenging, creative tasks, and it's gratifying when long-term, complex efforts successfully come together. But all that takes time.

By the end of the week I'd progressed, but finished nothing. I needed something quick, easy, and predictable to do so I could feel a sense of completion.

I found two tasks that fit the bill. Very predictable--positive outcomes virtually assured. They cleared my head and helped me prepare to tackle the more complex stuff again.

Here, I'll show you.

by Michele DeWilliam