Travels in Europe--an unexpected and rather nightmarish adventure

I made plans with my friend Haika (from my Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center days) to visit the Christmas market in Dresden Germany, something she's always wanted to do. We planned the trip for the early part of December, a time period which is usually best given our usual Christmas schedules and preparations. We decided to meet in Dresden on December 8th and leave on December 12th, which would give us three whole days in Dresden to explore the market and perhaps see a bit of the city. I looked online for direct flights to Dresden from Oslo but there were none. The next best thing was to fly via KLM from Oslo to Amsterdam and then get a connecting flight from Amsterdam to Dresden, which I booked. 

December 8th arrived and my husband drove me to Oslo airport. The weather was cold but otherwise fine. Snow was predicted but not until late in the afternoon. Except for a slight delay, our flight to Amsterdam took off as scheduled. But while I was sitting at the gate waiting to board, passengers got the news that the Amsterdam to Dresden flight was cancelled. No reason was given, although the KLM website attributed this to weather conditions--thick heavy fog at Amsterdam Schiphol Airport. I later found out another and more likely reason--a baggage worker slowdown and chronic understaffing. That was probably the major reason for the cancellations, because as it turned out, many flights leaving from Schiphol airport had been cancelled on December 7th, and those passengers were rebooked for December 8th flights. Many December 8th flights were cancelled and rebooked for December 9th (my flight to Dresden being one of them). 

I was informed via a text message from KLM that I was rebooked on the December 9th flight, and that I had to retrieve my luggage in Amsterdam, but it was not on the carousel. I went to the baggage service desk and was told that it had been moved to a storage area for my rebooked flight on the 9th (that I had not yet agreed to). Since it was now at that location, I was not allowed to get my luggage back. The woman at the desk was most unhelpful and rude, and I told her exactly what I thought of her and her airline. I filed a lost baggage claim form online on the off chance that my luggage was lost and not relocated, and asked that if it was found, that it be sent to the hotel where I was to stay in Dresden.  Considering the absolute mess that Schiphol airport became on the day I arrived, I had zero belief that my suitcase would be with me on my rebooked flight. I also had begun to disbelieve that the flight to Dresden would actually happen. Schiphol airport (I have another name for the airport that sounds like Schiphol, but I won't write it here) was inundated on that day with passengers who had been stranded in Amsterdam for one and even two days. I met several people who had plans with family and friends that were disrupted due to the cancellations. I fell into that category since my friend was flying from Michigan and had planned to arrive in Dresden on Friday afternoon. Our flights were supposed to get into Dresden around the same time, and we had planned to travel to the hotel together. It was not to be. 

Thank God for WhatsApp. I was in continual communication with Haika, so that she knew what was going on. Her flight from Michigan to Frankfurt to Dresden arrived in Dresden on Friday afternoon on time, so she got to the hotel in the mid-afternoon of December 8th, which was good because she was tired and needed to sleep. But she was experiencing a problem of her own; her luggage had not made it onto the plane from Frankfurt to Dresden, and it didn't end up arriving at the hotel until Saturday evening, so she was without a change of clothes (as I was) from Friday afternoon until Saturday evening.  

At this point, I stood in the airport, knowing I had several options: accept the rebooking for the following day and find a hotel to stay in at the airport overnight; try to find a train from Amsterdam to Dresden; or try to find a bus from Amsterdam to Dresden. And had I wanted to wait on line for four or five hours with hundreds of other stranded and displaced passengers, I could have argued with KLM customer service about getting my suitcase returned to me (I wisely chose not to do that after waiting one hour in a line that did not move forward at all). There was no bus service from Amsterdam to Dresden, but there was train service (an overnight train that would have been perfect). So I booked a train ticket online; the trip was to have taken about 10 hours and would have gotten me into Dresden around 8:30 am on Saturday morning. But when I got to the train station in Amsterdam, I was told that the train workers in Germany were going on strike as of that very evening. So I could not take the train as the trip was cancelled. I decided at that point to accept the KLM rebooking and to find an airport hotel for the night. All of the searches, bookings, cancellations and communications were of course done via my cell phone, which was gradually losing battery charge over the course of Friday afternoon. There were no charging stations that I could see at Schiphol airport in the general area (in 2023!). One of the salespeople told me I could charge my phone in the ladies room using the electrical socket there. So I did. That allowed me to book the Ibis Budget hotel located at the airport. Luckily, there was a shuttle bus to take me there, and once I was ensconced in my hotel room, I charged my phone and then set about trying to find something to eat. That proved to be possible, thank God. The hotel was very nice. At least I had a place to charge my devices as well as relax and get a decent night's sleep. At this point, I had used most of Friday just to travel to Amsterdam, and I knew that I would use most of Saturday to get to Dresden one way or another. 

The rebooked KLM flight was however not flying to Dresden, but to Berlin. So I had to find a way to get from Berlin to Dresden. Luckily, there is bus service (Flix) from Berlin to Dresden, so I booked a ticket after cancelling my train ticket and requesting a refund. I reserved an 8 pm bus trip for Saturday evening that would have gotten me into Dresden at around 10 pm on Saturday evening. I had to get myself from Berlin Brandenburg airport to the Flix bus station, which was about a thirty-minute taxi ride, and needed enough time to do that. I got a taxi to the Flix station at around 7:30 pm, but as it turned out, my 8 pm bus trip was cancelled and rescheduled to 9:30 pm the same evening. That was at least something. I waited two hours in a crappy bus station for the 9:30 pm trip. As (bad) luck would have it, my reserved seat on the 9:30 pm bus was broken, and none of the Flix employees including the driver were at all helpful in trying to find me another seat or in trying to fix the broken one. I waited until all the passengers had boarded at all the scheduled stops and then found a vacant seat. Luckily there was one. I arrived in Dresden at 12:20 am on Sunday morning and got a taxi to my hotel. Haika was still awake when I got there. Once I got there and once we were together, I managed to unwind and was hopeful that I could put the entire travel insanity behind me. I did decide however that I am never flying into Schiphol airport again. As in ever. I simply lost all faith in KLM and that they wouldn't cancel my return flight from Dresden to Oslo via Amsterdam. As it was, I saw that more flights had been cancelled at Schiphol on December 11th, which did not bode well for the 12th, the day I was to leave Dresden. This meant that I had to find another airline/flight to get home on the 12th. Luckily, I found a direct flight from Berlin to Oslo on Norwegian Air and I booked it. I also booked a Flix bus that left Dresden at 7:30 am on the 12th that traveled directly to Berlin airport; it did not get cancelled and it was on time. Thankfully, my return home was problem-free and easy. As it should have been for the trip to Dresden. It took me two days of traveling to get to Dresden, and less than half a day to return to Oslo. What's wrong with this picture?

It amazes me in this day and age that we are expected to accept living in a paperless society where all sorts of boarding passes, reminders, etc. are sent to our phones as texts or emails or apps that have to be downloaded. Yet a busy major airport like Schiphol makes no effort to have several hundred charging stations spread throughout the airport and not just at the gates. I find that very strange and totally unacceptable. I feel the same way about the Amsterdam Central train station--no charging stations anywhere, and that was confirmed by one of the train station employees. What is wrong with Amsterdam? I thought it was a progressive city. I have so many viewpoints to share and I'll do so in my next post. I also want to write about my visit with Haika and the Dresden Christmas market, since we had a wonderful time there. It made up for the travel nightmare and it gave me back my Christmas spirit, which I had just about lost. 

More books that influenced and changed my ways of thinking

I discovered C.S. Lewis when I was in my early teens, when I read his sci-fi adventure series The Space Trilogy (aka The Cosmic Trilogy), which was comprised of Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. The discovery of Lewis was for me a true gift, because I later discovered that he also wrote books having to do with spiritual themes and the difficulties of life. He wrote The Screwtape Letters, which is one of the books (published in 1942) that has stayed with me to this day. It is a satirical Christian apologetic novel dealing with the relationship between two demons, Screwtape, an experienced senior demon and the head demon of Hell, and Wormwood, an inexperienced junior demon who is trying to recruit his first soul to Hell. Wormwood is schooled by Screwtape via a series of letters in which Screwtape tries to impart his wisdom as to how to tempt humans such that they end in Hell. The descriptions of the landscape of Hell and of who is found there and why, made a huge impression on me. I remember reading it and being amazed by the genius of Lewis' writing. It is a novel that will definitely make you think about the ideas of sin, hell, heaven, temptation, evil, and the actual sins that humans commit that threaten their souls. 

A Grief Observed is another book written by C.S.Lewis, published in 1961, following the death of his wife Joy Davidman from cancer. It is an honest, raw exploration and description of his grief and despair at losing someone he loved very much. It details his doubts about his faith and his anger at God about losing her, as well as his understanding that he is but one of many who has suffered in this way. I read it when I was in my early twenties; by that time, I was no stranger to the realities of illness and death of loved ones. It is a book that I recommend to others who have lost loved ones to illness and death. Lewis wrote many other excellent books dealing with spiritual themes, among them Surprised by Joy, Mere Christianity, The Great Divorce, The Four Loves, and The Problem of Pain. I recommend them all. 

My mid-twenties brought with them major life changes, none of which were particularly happy. But as often is the case, the painful occurrences in life are the ones that help to bring about necessary change, and that was the case for me. But before that happened, I experienced a lot of doubt, anxiety, and internal conflict. I don't remember how I found out about The Meaning of Anxiety by Rollo May, published in 1950, perhaps it was via my father who thought highly of his writing. All I know is that the book was immensely helpful in changing my way of thinking about anxiety; it made me realize that anxiety preceded change and that it was part of the process of change, not necessarily something to be avoided. May was not talking about crippling anxiety, rather about a kind of free-floating anxiety that is part of the human condition. Reading his book was a life-changing experience for me. 

I discovered Henry James when I was in my twenties. His novel, The Portrait of a Lady, published in 1881, is the story of Isabel Archer, a free-spirited young American woman who inherits a lot of money and who subsequently finds herself trapped in a prison of her own making--marriage to an egotistical and mean-spirited man who loves her only for her money. Her suffering is compounded by the fact that there were two men who really did love her and whom she turned down as suitors, choosing instead a man who did not love her. It is an interesting novel in that it reflects James' exploration of the psyche of a young woman who loses her independence gradually and who becomes a pawn in the schemes of her husband and his mistress. His description of her marriage to this man will make your blood run cold; I have never come across a better description of a bad marriage, and this from a man (James) who never married. Recommended reading. 

When we were young, there were some books that we were told we could not read or that were kept from us because they dealt with adult themes (mostly sexual in nature). Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H.Lawrence was one of those books. It was first published privately in 1928 in Italy; after publication of the unexpurgated version in England in 1960, it was considered obscene for its frank description of the sexual relationship between a married upper-class young woman and the gamekeeper on her husband's estate. Her husband had become paralyzed from the waist down following a war injury (that occurred after they were married) and subsequently would not pursue any sexual relationship with her. He did encourage her to discretely take a lover so that she could produce an heir for the family, something she was initially reluctant to do. I did not find the book to be obscene in any way, unless you get hung up on the language used between the lovers. It was clear to me why the book was considered so groundbreaking in its presentation of sexuality. Lawrence was clearly interested in depicting a sexual relationship between a man and a woman that was physically pleasurable and spiritually satisfying. His viewpoint was that this type of relationship was possible and desirable, and that it formed the basis of real love. Not surprisingly, that view did not sit well with the moral gatekeepers at that time. Some aspects of the novel are controversial, but in my opinion, it is not the frank sexuality portrayed, rather the mores of the time--encouraging a wife to take a lover to produce an heir, the refusal of the husband to engage in any sort of sexual activity with his wife so that she could become pregnant, the physical (and ultimately emotional) abandonment of the wife by the husband, and her eventual abandonment of him. Both plodded on in a loveless dead marriage until the wife could no longer do so. It is an amazingly liberating novel to read, even by today's standards. 

Count your Blessings (Instead of Sheep) from the film White Christmas

The 1954 film White Christmas is a sweet and sentimental film to be sure, one that's worth watching. I had seen it many years ago but didn't remember it. We watched it the other night and I really enjoyed it. It will join my list of Christmas films to watch each year. The song Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep) was written for the film by Irving Berlin, who wrote the songs for the film. Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney sing this beautiful song. I'm including the lyrics here:

Count Your Blessings (Instead of Sheep) 

When I'm worried and I can't sleep

I count my blessings instead of sheep

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

When my bankroll is getting small

I think of when I had none at all

And I fall asleep counting my blessings

I think about a nursery and I picture curly heads

And one by one I count them as they slumber in their beds

If you're worried and you can't sleep

Just count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

If you're worried and you can't sleep

Just count your blessings instead of sheep

And you'll fall asleep counting your blessings

The small trials of winter

It's been a while since my last post, and that's mostly due to illness in our household. Even though we've taken the vaccines against Covid and this year's influenza, that doesn't stop regular colds, sinusitis, bronchitis or any of the other winter illnesses from rearing their irritating heads. I so prefer the other seasons, mostly because we don't have to deal with all of these illnesses. Well, sometimes an occasional summer cold. I find it hard to believe that we made it through a pandemic back in 2020 and 2021. We managed to avoid Covid until June 2021, although I can't say that it was worse than some of the major colds we've had. We were apparently lucky. But it's interesting that we weren't sick during the winters of 2020 or 2021, most likely due to lockdowns and the like. I don't want to go back to that time, of course. But I would like to be illness-free. 

When I was younger, I was susceptible to getting bronchitis. I've had some wicked rounds with bronchitis--coughing so intensely that I cracked two small rib bones. I remember one year (1993) vividly; I lived on antibiotics from November until February. Coughing was extremely painful with broken ribs, not an experience I care to repeat. But the worst bout of illness I've ever had was in 2004, when I got a flu that knocked me out completely. It took me months to recover; the worst part of it was the fever and the chills, but also the total lack of energy. Flus are nasty illnesses and that experience pushed me to take the flu vaccine each subsequent year.

I have friends who are dealing with RSV, bronchitis, sinusitis (also very painful) and regular colds. All of us are getting older. My good friend who recently passed away was stricken by Covid; although her neurological illness would have eventually taken her, it was Covid that ended her life. I guess the immune system weakens as we age. I guess we just have to deal with it. 

When I was younger, I never understood why older people traveled to warmer climates during the wintertime. Now I know why. I don't know if one avoids all the respiratory illnesses that way, but one certainly avoids all the other pitfalls of winter--snow, ice, intense cold. Here is the city of Oslo, they've gotten better about cleaning the sidewalks and throwing down some gravel after a snowstorm, but that doesn't prevent the remaining snow from caking and becoming ice. The sidewalks can be slippery. I'd like to reclaim my joyous love of winter that I had as a child, but I do believe it's long gone. And since I became a garden enthusiast, I know how I want to spend most of my days. In the garden. I can't do that in winter. 

Thank God for the month of December--we have Christmas to look forward to and all the preparations leading up to it are enjoyable for the most part. So I focus on that, and not on the small irritations and trials of winter. But because this past summer was neither sunny nor warm, I didn't get my usual dose of sun and warmth that gets me through the winter. So in January I'm heading to Florida for a week together with my friend Jean, and I'm looking forward to that! 

An interesting perspective on toxic people

"Not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring. Some of them love us dearly. Many of them have good intentions. Most are toxic to our being simply because their needs and way of existing in the world force us to compromise ourselves and our happiness. They aren’t inherently bad people, but they aren’t the right people for us. And as hard as it is, we have to let them go. Life is hard enough without being around people who bring you down, and as much as you care, you can’t destroy yourself for the sake of someone else. You have to make your wellbeing a priority. Whether that means breaking up with someone you care about, loving a family member from a distance, letting go of a friend, or removing yourself from a situation that feels painful — you have every right to leave and create a safer space for yourself."

--Daniell Koepke (from the book Daring to Take Up Space)

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We've all found ourselves in situations created by toxic people. Many of us have lived in toxic situations for years before doing something about them. I know that includes me. Earlier in my life, I struggled with how I should deal with toxic people, people whose sole priority was themselves, no matter what. Letting go of them or of the behaviors that fed them, was very difficult but absolutely necessary. Every time I feel that I'm in the presence of what I call an emotional vampire, every time the alarm bells go off inside my head and heart so loudly that I cannot ignore them, I know it's time to establish boundaries and to prioritize my own wellbeing. Sometimes it takes many years to realize this. I am always happy when I meet someone who has figured this out in a much shorter amount of time than it took me. Being a nice person does not mean being a doormat for others, either in one's personal life or in one's work life. I cannot emphasize this enough. So I don't know if I agree with Koepke when she says that some toxic people love us dearly. If you don't understand yourself well enough to know that are behaving in ways that hurt others continually, then you don't really love others. In any case, I would say--distance yourself from toxic people or don't stay in personal or work situations that wear you down, destroy your self-esteem, or hurt you. Distance yourself from or don't stay with people who gaslight you, blame you for things that are not your fault, or tell you that you're not being your usual nice self. Turn on your heel and go. 

A good poem by Lawrence Ferlinghetti

PITY THE NATION

by Lawrence Ferlinghetti (After Khalil Gibran) 2007

Pity the nation whose people are sheep
And whose shepherds mislead them

Pity the nation whose leaders are liars
Whose sages are silenced
And whose bigots haunt the airwaves

Pity the nation that raises not its voice
Except to praise conquerors
And acclaim the bully as hero
And aims to rule the world
By force and by torture

Pity the nation that knows
No other language but its own
And no other culture but its own

Pity the nation whose breath is money
And sleeps the sleep of the too well fed

Pity the nation oh pity the people
who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away

My country, tears of thee
Sweet land of liberty!

copyright Lawrence Ferlingetti

Books that influenced and changed my ways of thinking

I've been thinking about some of the books I've read that have had a profound and permanent influence on me, in the sense that they changed my way of thinking and looking at things. Perhaps I was psychologically ready for those changes at the time I read them. Nevertheless, these books provided a spur that was necessary at the time. Some of the changes set me on brighter, happier paths, while others ushered in an acknowledgment that the world could be a melancholy and evil place. Some helped me deal with issues that I was going through at the time I read them. There are twenty books on my list; I will write about five each over the next four posts. 

A Candle in Her Room by Ruth M. Arthur. A book from my pre-teen years that is impossible to forget. Written in 1966, it is the story of four generations of women who come into contact with an evil doll that has the capability of altering personalities and behavior. The evil behavior encompasses deceit, betrayal, manipulation, and lust for power. Looking back, I don't think this is a book for children, more for teenagers. But when I remember back to my pre-teen years, I think the book was an eye-opener. It was an introduction to the existence of evil in the world and it showed me that even those my age could have questionable motives and evil intentions. 

The Martian Chronicles by Ray Bradbury. A sci-fi novel, one of the first I ever read, that chronicles mankind's exploration and colonization of Mars. The sense of foreboding in some of the chapters, especially when humans first settle on Mars and meet the Martians, who seem at first to be welcoming, is palpable. One of the scenes I will always remember--the Martians had lured the humans into a false sense of security by being hospitable and recreating scenes of earthly life, but their actual plans for the humans were nefarious. An unsettling book that describes deceit and evil behavior, and a sense of foreboding--as in, what bad thing will happen now? 

 
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I've read the book and seen several movie versions of it. It is impossible not to be affected by the redemption of Ebenezer Scrooge from a heartless miser to a warm-hearted and generous old man after being visited by the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, respectively. It is a classic in the truest sense of the word, a book that leaves one with the knowledge that forgiveness and personal redemption are possible and that there is always hope that good will prevail. 

Jude the Obscure by Thomas Hardy. The ending of this novel was like a punch in the stomach. I remember telling my father that Jude's life was the definition of injustice. How much despair and tragedy could one life contain? In Hardy's view, there were apparently no limits to the misery one life could contain. My friend Brendan read the book and wrote to me 'obscure, indeed'. Hardy uses the word 'obscure' to describe Jude; Jude was an unknown and relatively unimportant player in the society around him, to the women in his life, and to the universe at large. Unable to be with the woman he loved (Sue) and trapped into marriage by a woman who pretended to be pregnant and who did not love him (Arabella), Jude's fate was sealed. Arabella had no scruples (commits bigamy), Sue had too many (felt guilty for all her choices for happiness). Although Jude and Sue had some years of happiness living together, they paid for that happiness in tragic ways. Hardy's book is a rather despairing commentary on love, the institution of marriage, societal norms, and church laws, all of which could be and were twisted in this novel to bring about oppressive unhappiness. It's almost as though if you tried to choose happiness, you were doomed to fail, doomed to regret, doomed to feeling guilty about wanting to be happy in love and life. The novel also questions whether personal happiness and personal choice were really possible and whether personal fate is determined or undetermined. The novel's viewpoints challenged my ideas at the time about love, marriage and happy ever after. 

The Road Less Traveled by M.Scott Peck. The discovery of this book was life-changing for me. I've recommended it to so many people over the years. The wisdom contained within its pages is priceless. Peck was a psychiatrist and had seen and listened to a lot of patients; he subsequently wrote another book called People of the Lie, which fascinated and scared me since it dealt with people who live in the dark and shy away from the light--evil people, psychopaths, narcissists--the list is long. The Road Less Traveled is more for ordinary folk dealing with the problems and difficulties of life. As Peck clearly states 'Life is difficult'. I read it at a time of great upheaval in my own life, and it really did help to set me on a better path, because I realized that I could change, that change was possible if I took responsibility for my own life. It sounds cliched, but it's not. Peck's view is that real spiritual and intellectual growth take time, but you have to desire them. You have to choose to desire them and do the hard work required in order to achieve them. 

Sweet moments in time

Tonight on my way home from church, I thought of Paul, the older blind man I met in September on the train to Grand Central Station. He got on the train at Scarsdale if I remember correctly; his seeing-eye dog, a sweet black labrador, led the way onto the train from the platform and immediately started sniffing/looking about for a free seat. I was minding my own business when suddenly I felt a nudge under my right armpit (I was sitting in an aisle seat). It was a dog, but not just any dog. I was about to give up my seat when I saw that the seat opposite me was free, and the seeing-eye dog discovered that too. So they took that seat. When the conductor came around asking for tickets, Paul showed him his wallet, which must have contained some sort of monthly pass. The dog was at his feet, not blocking the aisle. It was apparent that they trusted each other and that they had traveled on the train before since the dog knew what to do.  

I didn't find out the man's name until we exited the train. I waited until most of our compartment had emptied out, and then I followed Paul and his dog off the train. I knew that he was going to wait for an MTA train rep to come and guide him to his connecting train because I heard him telling the conductor that he needed that kind of assistance. The conductor said he would arrange it. But I had already decided that I was going to wait with him until the rep showed up, if he wanted me to, because I wasn't sure how long it would take for the rep to arrive. Once we had exited the train, I spoke to Paul and told him that I would wait with him until the rep showed up if he wanted me to, and he said yes and thanked me. He asked me my name and I told him, and he told me his name was Paul. At this point the dog was sniffing and licking my fingers, so it was apparent that he trusted me. Paul commented on the similarity of our names--Paul and Paula--and that it was unusual. It was for sure. It was almost as though our meeting was meant to happen. 

I have a soft spot in my heart for the blind, I always have. I remember my mother telling us children that her mother went blind in her old age, probably from glaucoma, since there was no treatment for it back in the 1940s (her mother died in the early 1950s). My mother lived with her mother and took care of her until her death. She told us that they would walk to church together, my mother guiding her along the sidewalk. Sometimes the events that occurred were humorous, other times not. My mother seemed to take it all in stride, as did her mother. I know people now who are losing their vision, or who had neurological diseases that robbed them of their sight. Macular degeneration, glaucoma, retinitis pigmentosa. It must be difficult to have spent most of your life seeing, and then suddenly lose your vision when you get old. Luckily our society has organizations that help the blind. I support those organizations, one of which is the Norwegian Association Of The Blind (Norges Blindeforbund). They recently built a new school for the training of seeing-eye dogs. 

I'm glad I met Paul and his dog. It made my day. A sweet moment in time that touched my heart for always. 

 

Seven Devils--Florence + The Machine

Another song that I heard for the first time tonight. Interesting lyrics, not what you'd automatically think they were about according to the songwriter(s), who has spoken about them online. I really like the imagery. 

Lyrics

Holy water cannot help you now

Thousand armies couldn't keep me out

I don't want your money

I don't want your crown

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down

Holy water cannot help you now

See, I've come to burn your kingdom down

And no rivers and no lakes can put the fire out

I'm gonna raise the stakes

I'm gonna smoke you out

Seven devils all around me

Seven devils in my house

See, they were there when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

And now all your love will be exorcised

And we will find you saying it's to be better now

And it's an even sum

It's a melody

It's a battle cry

It's a symphony

Seven devils all around me

Seven devils in my house

See, they were there when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

Before the day is done

Before the day is done

They can keep me out

'Til I tear the walls

'Til I save your heart

And to take your soul

And what has been done

Cannot be undone

In the evil's heart

In the evil's soul

Seven devils all around you

Seven devils in your house

See, I was dead when I woke up this morning

I'll be dead before the day is done

Before the day is done

Source: Musixmatch

Songwriters: Paul Epworth / Florence Welch

Seven Devils lyrics © Florence And The Machine Ltd., Emi Music Publishing Ltd

Band of Horses - Casual Party

I like the song, which I heard for the first time tonight, and the video is perfect for a Halloween party. 

Letting go of who people used to be--wise words from Heidi Priebe

I saw this online today and it resonated with me, despite the sadness contained therein. Whether it's growing old(er), becoming ill, becoming tired, wanting to give up--it is a blessing if those roads that people end up going down are shared with those they love, if those who love them want to join them on their journeys. That is not always the case for all. And it might be good to remember that we ourselves can let go of the people we used to be. Sometimes we hang onto them for dear life, thinking that we have to remain a certain way, when in truth we do not. Sometimes the people we were no longer serve us. We do not have to be accountable to the people we were in our twenties, thirties, forties, and so on. We can let go of them and be who we are in the present. Best to come to terms with who we were in order to embrace who we are now. Because now is all we have. 

To love someone long-term is to attend a thousand funerals of the people they used to be. The people they're too exhausted to be any longer. The people they grew out of, the people they never ended up growing into. We so badly want the people we love to get their spark back when it burns out, to become speedily found when they are lost.

But it is not our job to hold anyone accountable to the people they used to be. It is our job to travel with them between each version and to honor what emerges along the way. Sometimes it will be an even more luminescent flame. Sometimes it will be a flicker that temporarily floods the room with a perfect and necessary darkness. 

~Heidi Priebe (from her book: This Is Me Letting You Go)

Odds and ends

We're watching The Rockford Files these days, one of the better American tv detective series from the 1970s that ran from 1974 to 1980. I remember watching it sporadically back then; my mother was a fan of the show and of James Garner who played private detective Jim Rockford, and sometimes I watched it with her. Here in Norway it's available for streaming on SkyShowtime. We're only seven episodes into the first season, and the guest stars have been Lindsey Wagner, Susan Strasberg, Sian Barbara Allen, Gretchen Corbett, Roger Davis, James Woods--all actresses and actors I remember well from the 1970s and 1980s. 

Last night we watched Where Eagles Dare, an action-packed WWII thriller from 1968 starring Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood. I'd never seen it before, and it was well-worth watching. Pretty amazing scenes--fighting atop a cable car, climbing up the side of a castle--definitely not what you see everyday. It made me realize that some of the action films with Bruce Willis were definitely influenced by films such as this one. James Bond films as well. Enjoyable to watch, even though the body count in Where Eagles Dare was over the top. You don't forget for one minute that you're dealing with Nazi Germany and that the enemy has to be vanquished. 

I am drawn more and more to the older films and series, possibly because they are more enjoyable to watch than many of the newer films, even if they are less realistic. And if they deal with dark subject matter, they still manage not to sink into a morass of despair. I watch them and can then let them go after they're finished. I don't know if that's good or bad in the context of war films, but there are plenty of the latter that will leave you in a despairing frame of mind for a long time afterward. I watch them too, but it's hard to say I enjoy them. I can comment on them as quality films, well-acted films, etc. Realistic films. Where Eagles Dare is not a realistic film by any stretch of the imagination. In the same vein, we watched A Haunting in Venice two nights ago, Kenneth Branagh's new Agatha Christie film about Poirot who is now retired and living in Venice Italy. He is pulled out of retirement by an author friend of his to solve a presumed murder (that end up being multiple murders) in a spooky old house in Venice. Fun to watch, and again, the dark subject matter doesn't bring you down. I don't know how Agatha Christie did it, but she managed to write entertaining books about murders and murderers. Much like Dorothy Sayers. Both had a way of writing that drew you into the novels without burying you. 

Winter arrived early this past Monday. No one I know was ready for it psychologically. Too soon for snow and accumulation. Luckily most of the snow has melted due to the steady rain that we've had for the last twenty-four hours. But this has been the year for windiness. It seems like the wind has blown continually this year. I wish it would stop and I wish that the sun would shine more. But we're living in the era of climate change, so I'm not sure I can wish for anything of the sort.

Halloween was fun for the kids this year. But of course we always have the killjoys and the sourpusses, the ones who can't and won't let anyone off the hook for having a bit of fun. God forbid you should have some fun. How many articles I've read by young people/parents who criticize that 'American' Halloween has arrived in Norway and appears to have settled into the October repertoire. They resent having to spend money on costumes and candy. For the first, Halloween isn't originally an American holiday, but I'm not going to be bothered to get into that aspect of it. A young man I worked with years ago, who was studying to become a doctor, referred to some of his fellow students as people who walked around with rods up their rear ends. That's how I view some of the killjoys--stiff, uptight, unable to just 'let it go'. If they don't like it, no one else should, and by extension, no one else should be able to enjoy it.

Why can't more people just 'let it go' or 'live and let live?' Our society comments ad nauseam about everything under the sun. The more that gets criticized, the more I want to uphold and support all that gets criticized. I'm 'trassig' (defiant in English) that way. And I intend to remain defiant. 

And finally, I've switched off the ability to comment on my blog posts again due to a troll that leaves disturbing comments. Notice I refer to the troll as a 'that'. Not a 'who'. You never know these days. It could just be a robot or a non-human posing as a human. I thought I had set the filters correctly, perhaps I didn't. But if it's a human doing it, that person is an 'it' in my book. In any case, it's now a moot point. No more comments. 

Book review--The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3)

The Beast and the Bethany books (1-3) are books for pre-teens that don't disappoint in terms of their subject matter. Vainglorious egoist Ebenezer Tweezer has taken care of and served the huge beast in his attic with different kinds of food for over five hundred years. The beast has rewarded him with all of the material comforts one can think of as well with an elixir that keeps him young. But when the beast decides it wants to eat a child, Ebenezer finds himself in a bind, both morally and practically. Ebenezer goes on a search for a suitable child, and when he meets the bad-tempered orphan Bethany (that not even the orphanage wants), his dilemma is solved, or so he thinks. But when she comes to live with him, all hell breaks loose. A rude, destructive Bethany and an evil beast in the attic of Ebenezer's house can only lead to trouble. A lot of trouble. 

The author Jack Meggitt-Phillips has quite the imagination, and the books are easy to read, much as were JK Rowling's Harry Potter series of books. The pages just fly by. They are also surprising books given the world we live in at present; the beast decides it wants to eat a child after having developed a taste for humans. And before it gets around to Bethany, there are several humans that disappear down its gullet. But Bethany has other plans, once she finds out what's in store for her. Books 1-3 are a fun roller coaster ride into a strange world, where people (and parrots) travel via puddle portals, where rare parrots sing beautifully and lay eggs that contain all kinds of food, where material items vomited out by the beast have minds of their own. The author has been compared to Roald Dahl, which is apt, but I also found myself thinking of Neil Gaiman's books for children/young adults (The Ocean at the End of the Lane, Coraline). Book 4 remains, and from what I can judge of the ending for Book 3, we are moving toward a beast that has begun to develop a conscience after having spent time in prison and having its memory erased; it has begun to want to be a good beast. That will be an interesting ride. 

A good article that resonated with me

If you read one good article today, make it this one: Opinion | How to be Human - The New York Times (nytimes.com)  David Brooks, the author, writes about 'illuminators and diminishers', describing them in some detail in his article The Essential Skills for Being Human.      

The world sorely needs more illuminators and fewer diminishers. It needs more good listeners, more nurturers, more doers, and fewer narcissists and incessant talkers who never get around to doing anything at all. It needs more coaches who build others up, and fewer complainers and naggers who wear others down. It needs more people who care about others in the best way possible. 

You know when you've been in the presence of an illuminator. You feel energized (re-energized), hopeful, encouraged, and seen (as in recognized for who you are--validated). You feel as though a warm light, a warm ray of sunshine, has shone down upon you. You also know when you've been in the presence of a diminisher, because you feel de-energized, pessimistic, fearful, and invisible. Darkness has replaced the warm sunshine, and a cold wind blows. Diminishers are narcissists first; if you are looking for any type of validation from them, you can forget it. Your self-esteem around a diminisher will suffer a lot, which can be very detrimental for some people. 

Diminishers are controlling types, the type of people who say the following: 

• I wouldn't do it that way.  (in other words, Do it my way)
• I would never do that. You're wasting your time.  (I wouldn't waste my time)
• You shouldn't do that or feel that way.  (I don't do that or feel that way)
• It will never work out.  (So why bother? Don't waste your time)

Diminishers are only happy when others are fearful, or remain in a place of fear. Illuminators want to lift those around them out of fear into a place of light and peace. Illuminators compliment and build others up. Diminishers do the opposite. When you are happy about something, they are more likely to try to burst your balloon rather than let you be happy. They'll find a way to do it, to needle you, to get under your skin, to try to control you, to try and make you feel bad about yourself and what you do. They are invested in trying to bring you down. They try to control your choices, and when they realize that they cannot, they will try to whittle you 'down to size' if they are in the presence of someone strong enough to stand up to them. Why do diminishers behave the way they do? They diminish others because they suffer from envy, from dissatisfaction with their own lives, and from low self esteem, even if it seems the opposite is true when they are always talking about how great their own lives are. They are really focused on the lives of others, gossiping about them, complaining about them, trying to control them, competing with them in an unhealthy way, because their own lives border on unhappy or miserable. Does that mean we should have empathy for diminishers? Yes. But it does not mean that we should sacrifice our peace of mind and soul for them. Illuminators do not require your obedience, loyalty, servitude, or submissiveness. They understand what real love is, and they practice it.

I have been blessed in my own life to know many illuminators; I have wonderful longtime friends whom I love and who love me. My husband has been an illuminator for me and many people he's worked with--a true coach. But I also have experienced diminishers, and trust me, before you understand who and what they are, you will feel diminished by them. Less than your usual self. Until you regain your strength, your energy, your true sense of self. No one can destroy you once you know who you truly are. And sometimes being your true self is a lonely road when you're surrounded by diminishers. But it's a far better road, and in the end, you'll have outpaced them and left them behind in the dust. 

Saying goodbye to Gisele

My longtime friend since childhood, Gisele, passed away yesterday. She was sixty-six years old and had suffered with a degenerative neurological disease called multiple system atrophy for the past nine years. She was hospitalized this past weekend for Covid but in her weakened state due to her illness, was not able to recover from it. Since her diagnosis in 2014, we have tried to talk every Sunday, and for the most part, have managed to do so. We talked a lot about her situation and her feelings, my feelings and the feelings of friends and family. We talked about life, work, retirement, and traveling. She loved to travel and probably would have bought an apartment in Paris if she hadn't become ill. Her father was born in France and she had a special affinity for the country. 

Before she became ill, we traveled together and had fun together, with trips to Paris and Dublin among some of the more memorable trips. When her illness reached the point where it impaired her ability to drive, I would drive her around Westchester and we would revisit the haunts of our youth. She was an incredibly honest and open person and I learned a lot from her. Candid is the word I would use to describe her. She did not waste time, either hers or other's; her life and the lives of others mattered. She valued others. She chose her words and her advice carefully, but if something needed to be said, she could say it. I've known her for most of my life. We grew up together in the same neighborhood; she lived right around the corner. When we were teenagers, we hung out at her house after dinner during the summer months, talking and laughing and listening to WPLJ, the radio station with all the major pop and rock hits of the day. Her parents were welcoming and hospitable, much like mine. Her grandmother (father's mother) lived with them and had a black dog named Fluffy, who would go crazy with happiness when he met you at the door. Her father had a great sense of humor, which sometimes annoyed Gisele if his joking got too close for comfort. When I moved to Norway, he would sometimes greet me with 'How is it up there in Iceland'? He knew perfectly well where I lived, but he made me laugh, and she did too. How many times we talked about boyfriends, how many times we met in Manhattan to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, after which we would go to the museum restaurant to eat dessert and drink coffee. She and I had differing views about going to discos; I loved to go and dance, she did not. I know I dragged her to some discos a few times before she decided she didn't want to go anymore. As we got older, we talked about work problems (she was an elementary school teacher, I was a researcher). It was interesting that despite different work environments, many of the problems were the same--idiotic bosses, backbiting, gossiping colleagues. She never married or had children, mostly because she never met the right man with whom to have a family. We had our differences, but during a friendship that spanned over fifty years, one might expect that. She was honest about her own failings, even though it took some time to admit to them, as it does for us all. At her core she was a seeker of spiritual things, and I have some wonderful books that she gave me through the years that attest to that. I will miss her for always.  

My eulogy for Gisele: 

It’s been a long journey for Gisele, a journey into the mostly unknown. We who loved her joined her on that journey, offering support as best we could. Multiple system atrophy. MSA. No one had ever heard about it before or knew anything about it. But Gisele dealt with this new event in her life the way she dealt with most things—with courage and strength. She was brave and honest with herself and others. She was not afraid to talk about her illness, to research it, or to try different ways of tackling it. She knew that no ready cure for it existed, but she discovered that she could slow its progression if she made certain dietary adjustments, and she did and it worked for some time.

Today we have come to the end of one journey and the beginning of another. Gisele had faith, she prayed, and she believed in a heaven that existed for the faithful. During the past year, she told me that she was ready to meet God, and I know that she is with God and her parents now. There is so much I could say about her, about her love and loyalty and caring for others, about her sense of humor (inherited from her father) and her laugh. She was not her illness and she was adamant about that. She didn’t want to focus on what the illness had taken away from her, even though she grieved each loss while trying to accept them. But she lived in the present and chose not to focus on the past. She has a forever place in my heart.

Keeping us fearful, keeping us divided

I am getting to the point where I almost loathe all television news channels, especially the ones that broadcast 24/7. Every time one of them is on in my house, the ire, the fury, the doom, the gloom (and sometimes the naivete) pervade the atmosphere. I would mostly choose not to watch them, and for the most part, I don't. But it's not always my choice. News channels are basically purveyors of fear. The interviewers and interviewees don't help matters. By the time a half-hour news show has come to an end, it is easy to conclude that the world is a complete mess. That the world is going to hell in a handbasket. That no one knows how to behave anymore with respect--for their fellow man, the elderly, the young--take your pick. That everything was better when we were young (some things were because we weren't inundated with garbage from tv and social media 24/7), but not all things. 

We don't have to watch the news. We can read about what is going on in the world in newspapers, where we can choose to read the articles we want. The key word is choose. The better newspapers still have fairly well-researched articles that give some background about world conflicts, key issues, etc. I would rather read one excellent article about a particular political conflict (in the NY Times or The New Yorker) than watch tv news shows give me their opinions ad nauseam on who is the transgressor or the aggressor, the victimizer or the victim. I just want the background and the facts and I'll make up my own mind. I don't want the opinions of the newscasters, I want the news, without all the interviews that don't shed any light on the issues at hand. I don't want tv newscasters lecturing to me or screaming at me in an effort to brainwash me. Yelling at me to 'think like me' or 'think like my tv station that is paying me millions of dollars to feed you untruths and garbage' (think Tucker Carlson). The more I am pummeled by such idiocy, the stronger my stance that it is such programming that is ruining the world--for ratings and for money. If there is a hell, I hope that the people who promote such programming end up there.  

My question is--what is gained by keeping us, the public, fearful and divided? Do we tune in more to these news shows because of fear? What is it we fear? The unknown? The darkness in humanity? Are we missing out on the latest atrocities, the latest who did what or said what to whom? Do we need to feel 'alive' by tuning in? Does that give people a thrill? Do we like conflict and division? Do we need to have an enemy? Do we need to feel fear in order to keep our lives from getting or being boring? I think for many people, the news is about 'what happens over there', 'outside my sphere'. So we can think, how horrible, what's going on over there. But it's not happening here, so I can relax. I can feel consoled. I can continue to live in my little bubble. I can't do anything about what is going on elsewhere except be a voyeur, a spectator (willing or not). Then I can turn the tv off and go about my life until the next time I sit down for my dose of appalling. Perhaps better not to tune in at all. Because we need to live, to go about our lives with the awareness that yes, bad things can happen, but we cannot live in paralyzing fear. We can choose to be aware of what we let into our minds, be aware of what is going on in the world without being brainwashed or intimidated, take the necessary precautions, and then choose to live. That is the healthier choice. 

Autumn poem

 

Joseph Campbell quotes

·        We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.

·        The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.

·        The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.

·        A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself.

·        The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.

·        When we quit thinking primarily about ourselves and our own self-preservation, we undergo a truly heroic transformation of consciousness.

·        We're so engaged in doing things to achieve purposes of outer value that we forget the inner value, the rapture that is associated with being alive, is what it is all about.

·        Is the system going to flatten you out and deny you your humanity, or are you going to be able to make use of the system to the attainment of human purposes?

·        What each must seek in his life never was on land or sea. It is something out of his own unique potentiality for experience, something that never has been and never could have been experienced by anyone else.

 

Pay it forward--a little prayer

When I was in New York at the beginning of September, I reconnected with a college friend whom I haven't seen in years. We met in Manhattan and spent two happy days visiting the JP Morgan library, eating well, and catching up. She is a former minister (now happily retired), and has always read inspirational literature that she likes to share with others. This time around she passed on a book to me entitled The Only Little Prayer You Need by Debra Landwehr Engle. She'd read it and wanted me to have it. I've always been fairly skeptical of books that promise happiness, abundance, and wealth, if only you do this or that. But I gave this one a try because my friend recommended it. It was an easy read and had some interesting points to make, among them that many of our thoughts during an average day are fear-based (rather than love-based), leading us to behave in ways that keep ourselves protected, but still scared. But the flip side of choosing that protection is to choose a fear-based life. In other words, we're not living our lives in the fullest way possible, because if we choose how we act out of fear, we limit ourselves. It really is that simple. So the little prayer she shares is the following: 'Please heal my fear-based thoughts'. 

I got to thinking about the fears we live with each day. Mine often include worrying about some event several months in the future that I have planned or am planning, or to which I have been invited. I worry that I won't manage to get it all done, that something will happen to put a monkey wrench in the planning or execution, or that I won't really enjoy the show/party/dinner etc. to which I've been invited. There's a small little voice egging me on saying--stay home. I ignore it mostly, but it's there. Other fears include worrying about not having enough time to do the things I want to do, about my health issues or worrying about the health issues of loved ones, worrying that I'm not living up to my obligations, feeling guilty about that, or feeling guilty about a host of other things that I won't go into here, but that often have to do with what (I perceive) other people think and feel about something I'm doing (or not doing). Not being able to (or not really wanting to) live up to the expectations of others is a fear, a wholly irrational one, since I have been the dutiful child, student, employee, partner etc. for my entire life. I meet others' expectations and sometimes go beyond them, especially when I was working. I don't think I've ever been a slacker during my entire work life, or in my life generally. What surprises me is that the fear of not wanting to be a slacker has been a motivating and driving force my entire life. In that context, I wonder if I've ever really understood the word 'relaxation'. I have one friend who always tells me that I look so relaxed now that I've retired. I've never really thought about it, because in my mind, I retired from my job as a scientist, but I've filled my days with writing and other things that continue to drive me and to occupy my mind. The to-do list is long, even though I no longer work at a formal job. Sometimes I think, no wonder I'm tired half the time. I don't allow myself to really relax. I should, but I know it won't be easy to unlearn some ways of thinking. 

Engle lists some of the fear-based thoughts/feelings we all have and deal with--abandonment, feeling not good enough, guilt, judgment, conformity, control (not only over people but in terms of having to have things a certain way), need for power, jealousy, meanness, irritation, anger, pessimism, shame, scarcity--the list is long. She doesn't say that these thoughts/feelings are bad in and of themselves. It's when they get control over us that they become problematic. None of us are exempt from feeling them; it's part of the human condition. But they can interfere with having a peaceful and serene life--a happy life. Engle doesn't define happiness in terms of material wealth or the absence of pain and suffering. 

The key is to catch yourself having the fear-based thoughts. Once you can learn to be aware of them, you can begin the process of choosing thoughts that are rooted in love. Love-based thoughts/feelings as she describes them are acceptance, compassion, forgiveness, generosity, kindness, playfulness--among many others. But of course we're talking about a daily exercise--saying the prayer--and letting in the change we want in ourselves. I doubt it's easy. Since I finished her book, I've been trying to stay aware of my thoughts that are rooted in fear and saying the prayer in that moment. It's interesting to say the least. I am passing the book on to another woman whom I think might benefit from reading it. Pay it forward is a love-based thought (the recipient is free to read the book or not read it). Engle's overall point is that if all of us acted more on our love-based thoughts rather than fear-based thoughts, it would (perhaps) result in a better world, a more peaceful world. And given the current world situation, that might not be such a bad idea. 

Autumn garden update

Autumn is upon us. In truth, it was already upon us at the end of August in terms of how the garden behaved at that time. The pumpkins, potatoes, and tomatoes were finished growing by then. I've never had pumpkins turn orange that early; they were however quite small. I think the plants understood that there had been too much rain this summer and not enough warmth and sun. In order to grow in size, vegetable plants need warmth and sun. Not this summer.

The perennials and annuals did well, however. I'm not even sure why, because we had so much rain in July and August that I felt sure that there would be a lot of root rot, problems with mold, and other similar problems. There wasn't. Of course I'm very happy about that. The flowers grew quite high and seemed to do quite well. Go figure. Every time I think I understand how it all works, I understand that I don't. The old adage is true--you learn something new every day. 

Picking up the apples

Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and being alone won't either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You have to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes too near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself that you tasted as many as you could. 

~Louise Erdrich  (from her book: The Painted Drum)

I am also literally reminded of how much fruit goes to waste in the community garden: apples, pears, plums, berries. There is bounty all around us, provided by nature, and so many people ignore it. Why? Why do we take these gifts for granted? I'll never understand it. It's hard work to pluck the fruit and to process it in different ways, but so rewarding when you take stock some weeks later of how much fruit you've managed to freeze down, make jams and jellies from, conserve (spiced pears come to mind, or plums in rum), or eat. Thanksgiving Day takes on a whole new meaning for me when I realize how much the early settlers depended on the bounty of the land for their survival. So while the analogy above is about apples as opportunities to live one's life in the most meaningful way possible, the actuality of picking up the apples also provides us with food to keep us alive. When you see how apples are produced, you will be less inclined to waste them by letting them lie on the ground or hang unpicked in the trees. And the reality of the bounty given to us will usher in new ways of looking at our life here on earth. So then we won't waste our lives or the bounty given us. 

Wise words about aging

It has become clear to me that aging itself does not bring wisdom. It often brings regression to childishness, dependency, and bitterness over lost opportunities. Only those who are still intellectually, emotionally, spiritually growing inherit the richness of aging. 

--James Hollis 

(excerpted from the book What Matters Most: Living a More Considered Life)

The freedom of the open road

I've been thinking about how good it felt to drive on the open highways of Pennsylvania and New York on my recent trip to the US. I normally don't enjoy driving too much anymore; I've done so much of it up through the years, and it was mostly stressful. I don't enjoy driving in Oslo at all, for so many reasons that I won't go into in this post. And driving into Manhattan from NJ during the 1980s in order to get to work was stomach-churning stress. Back then, there were no cell phones, so it was impossible to let anyone know where you were stuck in traffic or why you were going to be late. But that was then; now is another story. 

After visiting my sister in Milford PA, which is not far from Port Jervis NY, I left early in the morning, had toast and coffee for breakfast at a diner right outside Milford, and then got on the road in my little red Kia Soul. A great little car--solid, stable and comfortable to drive. It handled well and got good gas mileage. Driving early in the morning was a pleasant experience, especially on beautiful NY summer days like the one that I had the day I was driving. There are a lot of rolling hills and forested areas in that area of PA and NY. Very pretty, made more so by the early morning mist that was slowly driven away by the sun that was warming up the day. Blue skies, a few puffy clouds, and very few cars on the road at that time, at least on 84 and Route 6. By the time I merged onto 87, the traffic had picked up but the day was still lovely. But it didn't seem to matter, as I was relaxed. There was something about starting the driving day in that lovely corner of the world that made me feel free. Like the world was open for exploration. 

It was that feeling of freedom that has stayed with me since that early morning drive. It made me want to take a long cross-country trip, something I've never done. After high school, I went straight to college, and after college, to graduate school. From there, to work. I've never had or taken any sort of long break. I never felt the need to; I was too eager to start my career and to experience that part of life. And I did, over many years. I feel different now; I feel as though my life ahead is an open road, ready for exploration. It's a wonderful feeling. 

 

Back in the USA

Back in the USA during the first two weeks of September. My traveling plans this time around included visits with friends I haven’t seen in years. My first visit was with an old college friend, Cindy, whom I met many years ago in the modern dance class we took together. We became friends and ended up choreographing several dances for the end-of-year recitals that were open to the public. She and her husband have visited us in Oslo, but that’s a while ago now. We toured the JP Morgan library in Manhattan (she wanted to visit the library because she, like many tourists there the day we visited, had read the two recent books about Morgan's personal librarian, a woman named Belle da Costa Greene, who happened to be a black woman). After we visited the library, we walked to the High Line so that she could experience it, and then we went to see The Vessel, which is a unique and beautiful artistic structure located on the west side of Manhattan. We walked at least five miles that day in 93 degree F heat. It was good to get back to our hotel (the lovely Warwick Hotel) to relax and cool off. 

After I said goodbye to Cindy at Penn Station in Manhattan, I took an Amtrak train to Boston to visit my theology professor from Fordham University who just happens to be a (semi-retired from teaching but not from writing) Jesuit priest. He is in his early eighties, is living in the Boston suburbs at a retirement home, and is as intellectually active as ever. I stayed in a very pleasant guest room at the center (they have accommodations for guests), attended a 6:30 am mass in the center’s chapel together with many elderly priests (a very touching experience), and otherwise enjoyed some really rewarding conversations with my former teacher. I had so many questions for him, and surprisingly, he had some for me as well. I realized that there is more that unites us in this life than divides us. He chose a different path (no marriage and family) but an interesting one. As I get older, I am more curious about my faith, not less, and he answered some of my questions. It was good to see him after all these years. We have kept in touch by letters and emails for many years, but hadn’t seen each other until now, and I don’t know if I will see him again.

From Boston, I traveled onward by bus to Albany NY where my friend Maria lives. Jean drove up from Westchester, and we spent the weekend together, hanging out, talking, and eating well. We managed a trip to Herkimer to take a boat trip on the Erie Canal, something that I’ve always wanted to do, especially after I watched the NY Adventure Club’s virtual lecture about the history of the canal. I’ve written about that in previous posts (A New Yorker in Oslo: The Erie Canal: A Story of Building the Impossible--a New York Adventure Club webinar (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com) and A New Yorker in Oslo: The film--The Farmer Takes A Wife, from 1935 (paulamdeangelis.blogspot.com). 

Jean and I returned to her house for a couple of days, which I always look forward to; her house is like my second home and she is like family to me. I met her two new grandchildren for the second time, which was very nice. She and I met up with a biology teacher from our high school who is in her early eighties and who has dyed her short close-cropped hair a muted shade of purple. I don’t remember her as being a funny woman, but she is. We met for lunch in NJ together with another friend, Stef, who also attended the same high school (Our Lady of Victory in Dobbs Ferry NY).

From there I drove onward to the Milford PA area to get together with my sister Renata and her husband Tim. We enjoyed some nice days together just relaxing, and then I drove back to the Westchester area to visit my friend Gisele for an afternoon. She is unfortunately quite ill and tires easily. But it was wonderful to see her.

This has been my traveling year; my hoped-for goal was to visit with friends whom I’ve not seen in a while, and I've managed to do that. In December, I will meet up with another friend, Haika, whom I haven’t seen since 2010. We're planning to meet in Dresden Germany in order to visit the Striezelmarkt Christmas market there. It’s apparently the oldest one in Europe (Dresdner Striezelmarkt (dresden.de). I'm looking forward to experiencing it with her, as she's wanted to visit this market for quite a long time. 

I'm enjoying my travels here and there and want to do more traveling in Europe as well as the USA. I’m always amazed by the vastness of the USA and how things really do function fairly well in spite of that vastness. Some people tell me they are now content to stay in one place and not travel. Perhaps I will say that in ten years or so, but not now. 

September update on the weather and the garden

Weatherwise, this summer will go down in history as one of the worst since I moved here. It started off well in June, with sunny days and warm temperatures. The garden needed to be watered nearly every day, and the vegetables that I planted (pumpkin, zucchini, carrots, tomatoes and string beans) got off to a good start. Then came July, when all it did was rain. It was as though a gray cloud of bad weather settled in over Oslo. The statistics speak for themselves; it rained 22 of the 31 days in July in Oslo, and the 9 dry days were overcast with the sun peeking through every now and then. August wasn't much different, unfortunately; I don't have the stats for how many days it rained in August, but it must have rivaled July.

Today, September 4th, was a real summer day, sunny and warm with temperatures close to 80 degrees F. It was the first day that I wore a summer dress and went bare-legged. It was a pleasure to feel the warm sun on my skin and to walk along the boardwalk on the fjord this evening. I looked out over the water and could see the warm haze in the distance. That's how summer should be. We ate dinner at a seafood restaurant called Solsiden (Solsiden Restaurant); it's open only for the summer season. It was a perfect evening to be there. 

The garden decided to call it quits in early August and started preparing for autumn. The pumpkins ended up being quite small; there were five of them but none of them were larger than about four to five pounds. They were turning orange already at the end of July. The string bean plants stopped producing beans at the end of July. The tomato and cucumber plants did not do well in all the rain; the cucumbers were deformed and most of the tomatoes rotted on the vines. The potatoes were fine, likewise the zucchinis, which didn't seem to mind the lack of sun and warmth. The carrots were stubby. But all the berry bushes produced a lot of berries this year, including the blackberry bush. So we have a freezer full of different berries--black currants, red currants, blackberries, raspberries, and gooseberries. The blueberry bushes however did not produce any berries this year, and I'm not sure why. 

Each year in the garden is a revelation and a surprise; you learn something new each year and you never quite know how the gardening season will develop. This year it started off well, plateaued early, and faded out early. I'm hoping for a better summer weatherwise next year. 

Wise words from Donna Ashworth

10 THINGS TIME HAS TAUGHT ME

1. Most of our life is spent chasing false goals and worshipping false ideals. The day you realize that is the day you really start to live.

2. You really, truly cannot please all of the people all of the time. Please yourself first and your loved ones second, everyone else is busy pleasing themselves anyway, trust me.

3. Fighting the ageing process is like trying to catch the wind. Go with it, enjoy it. Your body is changing, but it always has been. Don’t waste time trying to reverse that, instead change your mindset to see the beauty in the new.

4. Nobody is perfect and nobody is truly happy with their lot. When that sinks in you are free of comparison and free of judgement. It’s truly liberating.

5. No one really sees what you do right, everyone sees what you do wrong. When that becomes clear to you, you will start doing things for the right reason and you will start having so much more fun.

6. You will regret the years you spent berating your looks, the sooner you can make peace with the vessel your soul lives in, the better. Your body is amazing and important but it does not define you.

7. Your health is obviously important but stress, fear and worry are far more damaging than any delicious food or drink you may deny yourself. Happiness and peace are the best medicine.

8. Who will remember you and for what, become important factors as you age. Your love and your wisdom will live on far longer than any material thing you can pass down. Tell your stories, they can travel farther than you can imagine.

9. We are not here for long but if you are living against the wind it can feel like a life-sentence. Life should not feel like a chore, it should feel like an adventure.

10. Always, always, drink the good champagne and use the things you keep for ‘best’. Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one. Today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present. Eat, Drink & Be Merry.

Donna Ashworth

Quotes about letting go

The first half of life is devoted to forming a healthy ego, the second half is going inward and letting go of it. --Carl Jung

Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go. --Hermann Hesse

Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on. --Eckhart Tolle

Let go of certainty. The opposite isn’t uncertainty. It’s openness, curiosity, and a willingness to embrace paradox, rather than choose up sides. The ultimate challenge is to accept ourselves exactly as we are, but never stop trying to learn and grow. --Tony Schwartz

Creativity can be described as letting go of certainties. --Gail Sheehy

Courage is the power to let go of the familiar. --Raymond Lindquist

The world belongs to those who let go.  --Tao Te Ching

Everything I read about hitting a midlife crisis was true. I had such a struggle letting go of youthful things and learning how to exist and have enthusiasm while settling into the comfort of an older age. --David Bowie

Forgiveness means letting go of the past. --Gerald Jampolsky

For me, every single thing I do seems to be about the process of letting go because that's what I so desperately need to do with so many things: with fear, with what people think of me, and all these things I've worried about my whole life. --John Grant

There's a victory in letting go of your expectations. --Mike White

I think that what I have been truly searching for as a person, as a writer, as a thinker, as a daughter, is freedom. That is my mission. A sense of liberty, the liberty that comes not only from self-awareness but also from letting go of many things. Many things that weigh us down. --Jhumpa Lahiri

When you feel stuck in a hard time, jump-start a pro-change attitude by letting go of possessions that no longer work for you - like old clothes and old shoes. --Karen Salmansohn

Being deeply contented with God in my everyday life is a focused attitude. It is always available. It means practicing letting go of my obsession with how I'm doing. It means training myself to learn to actually be present with people, and seeking to love them. --John Ortberg

A man is rich in proportion to the number of things he can afford to let alone. --Henry David Thoreau

 

Random reflections and observations

Politics. We're heading into a new presidential race that unsurprisingly enough feels like a repeat of four years ago. Biden versus Trump, unless each party comes up with a better candidate to represent them. I wish both men would retire quietly, without a lot of fanfare and chest beating, and leave the arena to new and younger blood. Although promising at one time, De Santis just doesn't make the grade; he seems like a mini-Trump sans the bravado and in-your-face aggressiveness. But he pales in Trump's shadow. If Trump wasn't in the picture, maybe he'd have half a chance. But I don't think he has what it takes to be president. Neither does Trump, for that matter. I cannot understand why anyone still supports Trump, but I've given up trying to figure people out. He's a national embarrassment and I can say that; I live abroad and I see the reactions of the European media to him. No one can figure out the Trump supporters. Many theories have been advanced as to why they support him, but there doesn't seem to be one defining thing that makes them like him. It's actually a bit scary. 

Society. I saw a meme on Facebook today "Forget world peace, just try visualizing using your turn signal when driving". That's about where it is for me. I suppose we need to aim high--world peace--but at this point, I'd settle for a return to common courtesy and common sense in society. It seems that the world is mired in greed, lack of ethics, lack of empathy, lack of respect, and lack of common sense. I see it every day here in Oslo. The rudeness in society is appalling; bicyclists who don't stop for pedestrians in the crosswalks, but who suddenly stop for no good reason in the bike lanes, causing those behind them to brake suddenly. One day there is going to be a major accident involving many cyclists. Bicyclists here are as thoughtless as many car drivers, but we're always hearing about how rude car drivers are, never how rude bicyclists are. That's because the Green Party here has to push its message, which is to bike in any and all circumstances. "Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail" should prevent the good Oslo citizen from biking. It borders on ridiculous. It's like the Green Party has forgotten that winter in this country is a good five to six months long. I don't understand their point of view and I never will. Some construction projects take years to plan, finalize and complete. Not so with bike paths; they are constructed and finished before you have the chance to take a breath. When they want something, nothing stands in their way--that's the motto of the Green Party. I have no problems with biking; I've been biking my entire life, since I was a child. But I won't bike in the wintertime, and I don't need fascist propaganda telling me to do just that. And as an 83-year old friend of mine recently commented--not everyone can or is able to bike, regardless of age. She's right. 

Religion. I attend mass on Saturday evenings/Sunday mornings hoping to find some peace and quiet that are conducive to contemplation and prayer. Not to be had. No matter what (purportedly sans music) mass I attend, the priest insists on singing some part of the mass. Unfortunately, about half of the priests who say mass cannot sing to save their lives, so it's both painful and irritating to listen to them. I stand in the pew and pray that my irritation dissipates, but it's a bit sad to find myself in that position at mass. I don't want to be thinking about my irritation at something that could be solved easily--just have one mass for those people who don't want priests and/or the congregation singing at them, who don't want to sing the entire mass or even parts of it. Just have a quiet mass, for heaven's sake. Is that too much to ask?

Friendship. In the final analysis, friendship is defined for me by who is there for you in good times and in bad. I have a small circle of lifelong friends without whom I couldn't imagine my life. They are in my heart forever. The rest are just acquaintances or work friends, and with a few exceptions, I cannot rely on them to be there for me. It's always been that way, but now that I'm retired, I see it more clearly. They do not prioritize getting together; they prioritize work and more work, anything that furthers the work cause. Now that I no longer work, we have less in common. If one relies on these types of people for friendship, one will be quite lonely. I don't, but I acknowledge the strangeness and clarity of it all. But suddenly, when they want to get together, they expect you to dance to their tune; they decide the time and place, you show up. Not all of them behave that way, of course. But accommodating their schedules doesn't work for me anymore. I used to do that, but no longer. My schedule is just as important as theirs, perhaps more so, because I have plenty to do now that I'm retired. They don't think so, however. So these types of relationships will eventually fade away. As will many other things, since life is about letting go.

Getting older. That leads me to the final observation--getting older means getting tougher in all ways. I'm simply not interested in wasting my time on people, situations, books, films, series etc. that give me nothing, that don't inspire me, that don't make my life better. I don't want to waste time doing things that I don't want to do, and that includes spending time with people who are sometimes nice and sometimes not. I want to spend time with people whose moods are for the most part stable, who are kind at heart, who have Christian values, and who are not rude or aggressive or passive-aggressive, or who try to gaslight you (as in, they never said or meant this or that, but they did say it and they did mean it). I want to spend time with people who are as interested in my life and what I'm doing as I am in theirs. I want to spend time with people with whom I can have a real and meaningful conversation. There is so little of the latter; it truly surprises me that more people don't miss having good conversations. I miss my parents and my brother, who were people I loved and with whom I could converse. Our times together were real, likewise our conversations.