Presence, Security

Shelter from the Storm

January 6, 2024
(And it wasn’t even that big of a storm! But sometimes, it’s nice to have a place to spend the night after a long day of work when there have been chain controls and odds are good that even if the freeway is finally clear, that the long hill that leads from the freeway down to my house will still have snow on it and possibly ice. I’ve seen what that hill can do to cars in inclement weather. Not so fun for anyone. Except possibly for autobody shop owners.)

View out my neighbor’s window today.

I’m grateful that there was a room available at Mercy Center tonight (the retreat center where I do most of my massage work), that I didn’t have to drive home in the dark on icy roads after finishing my last massage, that I am able to stay here.

I’m grateful that there was snow today, that a good amount came down in the mountains, since our storms so far have been light this winter, and the snowpack which provides much of our water is below average (whatever that is anymore).

I’m grateful for all kinds of shelter, especially for people who are shelter for me: friends and neighbors, too.

This storm wasn’t in my plans for this weekend, though.

I was going to start this wonderful blog post last night,  but I got distracted when I checked the weather forecast and realized that a genuine storm was coming. So instead of writing, I finished my son’s laundry since he is heading back to college soon. Then I packed an overnight bag for myself and grabbed my sleeping bag out of the shed so that I could hopefully stay somewhere below the snow line if the storm materialized like they were predicting.

(It did)

I love the snow when I can stay home and the power doesn’t go out. I do not love it so much when I have a child who needs to be at the airport in Sacramento the day after the storm.

Mostly? I am grateful that I have a place to stay tonight. I hope to do a “leave no trace” kind of overnight stay, so I do not add extra work for the Mercy Center housekeepers who are also my friends. I have my sleeping bag and I brought my own towels.  I will be invisible, like a bunny who blends in and leaves no trace.

It’s not winter weather everywhere. This photo courtesy of my daughter in Costa Rica.

 

 

 

 

Daily Grace, Presence

Book Drunk

December 30, 2023

My trusty iPod with the click wheel. It was a tech gift I received that changed my life decades ago. I still use it for background music occasionally in my massage practice.

I think I am book drunk.

I signed up for a four month trial of Audible, an audiobook service, for a discounted price and used my first credit this week to get the audio version of Dr. Abraham Verghese’s “The Covenant of Water.” I had checked this book out from the library a week ago after finally making it to the top of a long waiting list. When I realized the book was more than 700 pages long and that I couldn’t  renew it because of the waiting list, I had to figure out another way to enjoy it, because there was no way I would make it through a 700 page book in just a few weeks. And I wanted to read it! This book was Oprah’s 101st Book Club pick. She said it was one of the most “gripping, exquisite novels she had ever read.”

Audible to the rescue.

I think that my Audible app on my phone is the kind of technology that might change my life. The last time I benefitted so much from a tech upgrade was nearly two decades ago when my father-in-law gave me an iPod for Christmas. It was one of the first models with a click wheel. Suddenly, I could download songs and carry them with me. I could make my own music playlist for massage appointments. I could listen to podcasts while I exercised. I told him that it was a gift that changed my life for the better.

I think Audible might do that, too. I am in the car a lot, since I work in a town about thirty miles from my home. In the past, I’ve spent hours listening to podcasts. Podcasts are great! But they start to wear on me, especially as the New Year approaches. So many tips and tricks for making my life better! A constant stream of self-help can tire the soul sometimes.

Listening to a fiction book is a completely different experience. There is nothing in fiction that scolds me to reflect on my year or encourages me “to stop living a default life…and start taking small steps to create real change” (as one of the promos for a podcast I’m subscribed to said recently).

And yet?

“Fiction is the great lie that tells the truth about how the world lives.” (a quote from “The Covenant of Water.”)

Yes. The story, if it’s well-written, takes me over. If I’m listening in the car, when I arrive at my destination, I have to sit for a minute or two, with the engine and book turned off, just to get my bearings again. I have to shake off the world of the book and come back to the parking lot, to the job that I have to do or to the groceries I have to buy. I remember when I was an intern years ago in Washington, D.C that I had a friend who used to read a book on her walk to work. I think it was an actual book book, not something on audio, since this was late in the previous century. She told me that she was careful, that whenever she got to a stoplight, she paused, put the book down, and gave herself time to make sure she was aware of what was going on with traffic. She’d wait for the walk signal, cross the street and then go back to her book again.

I think of myself as a reader. I tell people I’m a reader. But the truth is? I don’t read as much as I’d like. I see how audiobooks could change that. I’ve enjoyed a few books on my library audiobook app, Hoopla. Audible gives me immediate access to more books, though, and to newer books that book clubs are reading without waiting.

The “Covenant of Water” is a 31-hour audio book. If I just listened to it in the car, it would take me a month of daily commuting trips to get to the end. But here is something I am just realizing: I can listen to it when I’m also doing household tasks. I can listen while I’m folding laundry, doing dishes, getting the dog’s food ready, getting ready for bed. In the past, when performing so many of these daily tasks, I would daydream. And sometimes, often actually, my daydreaming was tinged with worry. Or fretting. Or perseverating on things that had happened that day, or that might happen tomorrow. Things I regretted. Things I felt sad about. I just started listening to the “Covenant of Water” this week, and somehow I’m already thirteen hours into it. It has captivated me and is breaking my heart a little. Oprah said that in the end, I will be touched by the “shimmering resilience of the human spirit.”

So for now? I’m listening. I’m listening to my book whenever I can. And when I’m listening? I’m not worrying, so that’s a win right there. The book is also teaching me: about India’s history, the caste system, the British role there. It’s making me want to cook the lentils that are in my pantry with the spices that the book’s characters use. This beautiful book is taking me on a journey into a different world.  I can’t get it out of my head. It’s making me book drunk. And as I head into the New Year, book drunk seems like the best kind of drunk to be.