-- John Maynard Keynes
Pursuing active retirement. Seeing the world. Striving for an agile mind, body, and spirit.
Monday, April 29, 2019
Sunday, April 28, 2019
The Joy of Things
De-cluttering seems to be all the rage these days. Writers and practitioners are becoming wealthy helping people conquer their "stuff." The Swedes have their death cleaning, the Japanese keep only what gives them joy, and my favorite habit and happiness author Gretchen Rubin writes about Outer Order, Inner Calm.
I admit that both the act of de-cluttering and the end result provide a sense of accomplishment and, yes, joy. But I have a dirty little secret. My "stuff" brings me joy, too. Often on our adventures, our fellow travelers will say, "I'm not buying anything. We're downsizing. I don't need any more stuff." Meanwhile, I'm busily filling my suitcase with the perfect picture or knick-knack to commemorate the trip. And I seldom stop at just one.
Our house is filled with mementos from our journeys, and they bring us genuine joy. They help us remember where we've been, what we've seen, and the people we've met. They are great conversation starters. And they just make me smile.
But as we travel more, it is becoming a bit harder to remember the stories that go with the things. Even worse, I sometimes can't remember the place -- was it Guatemala or Bolivia? Laos or Myanmar. And our kids say, "I hope you are writing this down so someday, when you're gone, we'll know where you got all these lovely treasures." What a great sense of purpose to reinforce my renewed habit of writing -- tell the tales of all those things we love and why they give us the wonderful joy of memories.
I admit that both the act of de-cluttering and the end result provide a sense of accomplishment and, yes, joy. But I have a dirty little secret. My "stuff" brings me joy, too. Often on our adventures, our fellow travelers will say, "I'm not buying anything. We're downsizing. I don't need any more stuff." Meanwhile, I'm busily filling my suitcase with the perfect picture or knick-knack to commemorate the trip. And I seldom stop at just one.
But as we travel more, it is becoming a bit harder to remember the stories that go with the things. Even worse, I sometimes can't remember the place -- was it Guatemala or Bolivia? Laos or Myanmar. And our kids say, "I hope you are writing this down so someday, when you're gone, we'll know where you got all these lovely treasures." What a great sense of purpose to reinforce my renewed habit of writing -- tell the tales of all those things we love and why they give us the wonderful joy of memories.
Saturday, April 27, 2019
Sometimes You Just Have to Start ... Again
I've always intended my blog to be a personal journey, more than a publication. In the early days, right after I retired, I penned entries fairly frequently. Then my efforts dwindled and ultimately disappeared. I started again, stuttered, and grew quiet. And for the past several years, I have mostly collected wonderful quotes. I take great pleasure in paging through and reading them, but quoting others is not a replacement for writing.
Writing, like almost any endeavor, requires commitment and practice. No one expects you to play a musical instrument without practicing. No one expects you to play the cello just because you can play the piano (although being able to read music does give you a bit of a head start). Why is it hard to accept that writing takes practice, too?
I play the piano regularly, with only the occasional hiatus. I take lessons because it gives me structure and the pleasure of playing duets with my teacher Barbara. And I'm noticeably more accomplished than I was 8 years ago when I resumed playing regularly. My technique isn't as strong as it was in my youth. Alas, my fingers will never be that agile again, but I make up for it with more mature musicality. Practice doesn't necessarily make perfect, but it definitely contributes to incremental improvement. So, why is it so hard for me to translate that lesson to the art of writing?
My study of the piano has no objective other than pleasure. Although I have occasionally played in public and have contemplated putting together a small recital for friends and family, I am my own most important audience. I do it for myself. I enjoy the effort and the results. Writing should be the same way -- mostly just for me.I read widely and eclectically. One area I've explored is the study of habits -- both making good ones and breaking bad ones. A lesson I've oft heard repeated is that once you have interrupted a desirable habit, it is even harder to re-establish it than it was to build the good habit in the first place. Hard, but not impossible. You just have to start. Take a step. One day at a time, one line at a time, one blog entry at a time.
One of my favorite books, back in my technical writer days, was Writing to Learn by William Zinsser. The subtitle is "How to Write -- and Think -- Clearly about Any Subject at All." Zinsser's premise is that the act of researching and organizing your thoughts to write clearly is the best kind of learning. He also posits that the best material is often produced by writers who are initially ignorant about their subject matter, giving them the ability to explain most clearly. I need to take Zinsser's ideas as my new mantra as I try -- once again-- to build the habit of writing regularly. I'm writing to learn. I'm writing to organize my thoughts and think clearly. I'm writing for me.
Writing, like almost any endeavor, requires commitment and practice. No one expects you to play a musical instrument without practicing. No one expects you to play the cello just because you can play the piano (although being able to read music does give you a bit of a head start). Why is it hard to accept that writing takes practice, too?
I play the piano regularly, with only the occasional hiatus. I take lessons because it gives me structure and the pleasure of playing duets with my teacher Barbara. And I'm noticeably more accomplished than I was 8 years ago when I resumed playing regularly. My technique isn't as strong as it was in my youth. Alas, my fingers will never be that agile again, but I make up for it with more mature musicality. Practice doesn't necessarily make perfect, but it definitely contributes to incremental improvement. So, why is it so hard for me to translate that lesson to the art of writing?
My study of the piano has no objective other than pleasure. Although I have occasionally played in public and have contemplated putting together a small recital for friends and family, I am my own most important audience. I do it for myself. I enjoy the effort and the results. Writing should be the same way -- mostly just for me.I read widely and eclectically. One area I've explored is the study of habits -- both making good ones and breaking bad ones. A lesson I've oft heard repeated is that once you have interrupted a desirable habit, it is even harder to re-establish it than it was to build the good habit in the first place. Hard, but not impossible. You just have to start. Take a step. One day at a time, one line at a time, one blog entry at a time.
One of my favorite books, back in my technical writer days, was Writing to Learn by William Zinsser. The subtitle is "How to Write -- and Think -- Clearly about Any Subject at All." Zinsser's premise is that the act of researching and organizing your thoughts to write clearly is the best kind of learning. He also posits that the best material is often produced by writers who are initially ignorant about their subject matter, giving them the ability to explain most clearly. I need to take Zinsser's ideas as my new mantra as I try -- once again-- to build the habit of writing regularly. I'm writing to learn. I'm writing to organize my thoughts and think clearly. I'm writing for me.
Quote of the Day -- Plutarch
An imbalance between rich and poor is the oldest and most fatal ailment of all republics.
-- Plutarch
Friday, April 26, 2019
Quote of the Day -- Robert Louis Stevenson
The habit of being happy enables one to be freed, or largely freed, from the dominance of outward conditions.
-- Robert Louis Stevenson
Thursday, April 25, 2019
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Quote of the Day -- George Eliot
The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us, and we see
nothing but sand; the angels come visit us and we only know them when
they are gone.
-- George Eliot
Tuesday, April 23, 2019
Quote of the Day -- Rick Steves
I travel around the world in a way that tries to open my
mind and give me empathy and inspire me to come home and make this world
a better place.
-- Rick Steves
Monday, April 22, 2019
Quote of the Day -- C.S. Lewis
What you see and hear depends a good deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.
-- C.S. Lewis
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)






