It’s May in New England, which means: flower power time! In particular, the tulips are out and showing off all over town. Everything is blooming these days, and I am reveling in the colors, shapes and textures of spring.
For whatever reason, this spring I’ve been in search of novelty– I’ve been craving new experiences and sensory experiences. One way I’ve satisfied this desire has been to seek out more music and dance– I’ve gone to two modern dance performances and heard four classical music ensembles live.
I’ve also brightened up my home by buying flowers through the winter– mostly Trader Joe’s tulips (20 stems for $12.99– you can’t beat that deal). Now I have a spring flower share, which I’m loving.
But now that spring is really really here and the weather, while often rainy, is warmer, nature is beckoning. I just renewed my membership to Garden in the Woods, and am planning a visit there with friend as soon as my final exams are over.
I’m also planning a trip to the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens, a humongous place with a great variety of gardens and natural areas to explore. It’s in Boothbay, Maine, a place I’ve never been, which is also a plus in the travel novelty category.
Now that I think about, my need for color and shape and texture outside the four walls of my home is not particularly novel. I wrote about my search for May flowers a couple of years ago. You can read it below.
This just goes to show that everything new is also old again. Which is kind of good news, I think.
Hi, dear readers! This is the first installment of my spring tulip share from Five Fork Farms, a local and sibling-owned-and-run farm and CSA. This was half of my birthday gift to myself. The other half is their fall dahlia share (which of course I will share with y’all when it comes out).
Nothing says spring to me more than tulips– these are delicate yellow-and-pink parrot tulips on my dining room table.
A simple blue vase with lovely, frilly butter-yellow and pale pink parrot tulips. Ain’t nature grand? And yes, that’s my robot T shirt hanging on a chair. Well, nature is complex and varied in its beauties, I guess…
There are two promises of more:
I’ll share my weekly spring tulips with all of you– it would be selfish to keep them all to myself.
I’ll share my new monthly regular Research Roundup post this afternoon. Stay tuned…
I like snow. I like cosy evenings. I like the way the air smells. I like bundling up to go outside. I’m a big fan of sweaters. I like seeing light on the snow. I even like shovelling snow (up to a certain point!)
And even on the most basic level, I just like the variation from other seasons of the year.
But by the time February comes, it is wearing on me.
It really starts at the end of January when time seems to both stretch and contract so I have really long days but really short weeks and then I somehow get unceremoniously dumped into February.
February takes forever and it is always a big struggle for me. I have extra trouble figuring out my time, my projects, and my capacity. It’s almost like my ADHD meds don’t fully work that month and everything is especially difficult and frustrating.
For example, this year I had a plan to do two small things in February. I was going to do a wall set for one minute a day and I was going to add more vegetables to my lunch
I did pretty well with the lunch vegetables but the wall sit? That just went wrong.
The wall set was somehow both too big a task and two smaller task at once. It felt like I could fit it in anywhere in my day., That sounds like an upside but if I can fit it in anywhere in my day then I’ll end arguing with myself all day about when to do it.
I realized that it’s hard to do a wall sit when I have socks on because I end up, slipping on both the flooring and the carpet while trying to hold the position.
But I could never convince myself to put on my sneakers to do a one minute exercise.
In fact, February fills up my brain so much that the sneaker idea didn’t occur to me until more than halfway through the month.
And I never did convince myself to put the sneakers on.
I noticed this February pattern a few years ago, and I have tried a variety of solutions to cope with this annual bewilderment. Things have improved, but there is still a ways to go and I am hampered by the fact that I often can’t see things are going sideways until they have reached an annoying level of sideways-ness.
Anyway, as you can, imagine, I was really glad to see March.
I’m not saying that March 1 is magic but I’m not NOT saying that.
Once we switch to March, it feels like my brain takes a deep breath and suddenly there’s a bit more space to figure things out.
You can’t tell now, of course, but this is where a single spring flower grows and blooms each year. I love watching for it as spring goes on. Image description, a photo of the back of someone’s fence with snow on the ground and a few evergreen trees about halfway between the viewer and the fence.
And once the clocks change, I see even more of an improvement in my perspective, my overall mood, and in my capacity to make useful plans and to follow through on them.
So, I was thinking about all of those things last week and then I overheard a conversation some friends of mine were having at TKD.
(This had nothing to do with martial arts, it had to do with spring.)
One of my friends is a farmer (she also runs a farm-tech company) and she said that there had been signs of spring for weeks
She said that we probably hadn’t even noticed, but the signs are there – more birds are singing, there are probably more bugs showing up in our houses, and that there are lots of things going on underground that we won’t see for ages.
And when she said that I realized that not only had I heard more birds and seen more bugs, but the sun was feeling a bit warmer and the ground felt somehow different than it had two weeks before.
Recognizing all those things felt so great that I started looking for more signs.
And I noticed that the tips of the branches of the trees were looking a little thicker, like growth has started.
Doesn’t that kind of look like buds at the tip of those branches? I’m not sure at what point a bud can be officially called a bud but something is going on right there.. Image description: A photo of a couple of the branches of the lilac tree in my front yard. At the tips of the branches are the suggestion of buds, even if they’re not buds yet. The branches are in the very foreground and in the background, you can See snow on lawns a few people’s driveways and some of my neighbours houses in the background.
And something about how the snow is sitting on the ground has changed. Even though we had more snow over the weekend, there’s something different and somewhat spring-y about it.
See:
It felt so good and so cheering to take a stroll today. A photo of my dog Khalee on our street on a sunny somewhat springlike day. The sun is behind us and she is standing where she can be seen in the photo. You can only see me as a shadow, and you can see the shadow of the leash that I’m holding that she is on the other end of. Her shadow was visible too, of course. There’s a small snowbank nearby and she’s standing on some greyish asphalt. She is a light brown, medium size dog. She’s mostly facing away from the camera, but she’s turned back a bit probably wondering why I stopped walking.
Even the colour of the sky seems deeper recently. it’s not quite a spring or summer sky, but it’s getting there.
I love seeing that blue get stronger. A photo of several leafless trees and a couple of evergreens next to a fence with snow on the ground. The sky behind the trees is an almost spring colour of blue with a few long white clouds
So with things getting ready to shift outside, it’s no wonder that things are also shifting in my brain.
In the last week or so, I’ve noticed myself thinking a bit more long-term about exercise plans again.
And it feels far easier to get myself to go for a walk, to do some yoga, or to just move around in general.
I was on a writing retreat this past weekend and instead of sitting at a table to work I was motivated to sit on my yoga mat on the floor instead, working on my lap, on a low table, or on the floor itself. That felt like a huge improvement because I know how much more likely I am to move and stretch and take good care of myself while I’m working if I’m seated on the floor.
No, I’m not saying that I couldn’t do any of these things three weeks ago, but now that first step, the initiation of that task, is decidedly easier.
I rang in the New Year (technically, the day after) in a way I heartily recommend: swimming with a friend and her toddler! My friend Rachel and I took her daughter Teagan to a local hotel pool that offers day passes. It’s pretty cold here in New England, and the hotel indoor pool offers a respite from freezing cold temperatures outside and cramped play spaces inside.
When we got there on Friday, there were about five kids in the pool horsing around, with a group of fully-clothed parents lounging and scrolling on their phones. We went into the locker room to change into bathing suits and headed into the relatively warm water.
Teagan isn’t a swimmer yet, being a few weeks shy of 3 years old, but she loved the water, and she loved playing with us. Favorite activities included:
Jumping from the side of the pool into the waiting arms of Rachel or me;
Bring hurled through the air (well, sort of) between Rachel and me in the pool, making a big splash as she landed;
being swirled in a circular motion, clockwise or counter-clockwise (she didn’t express a preference) while squealing, laughing and splashing;
blowing bubbles in the water;
watching us blow bubbles in the water;
pretend/sort-of-actual swimming, with a bit of assistance;
bobbing up and down, kicking her feet but not making any forward progress (which bothered her not a whit)
being wrapped up in multiple towels, including my rainbow beach towel.
I got a decent upper body workout, lifting, holding, and catching her, as well as working on my high-speed circular swirling technique. And it was very good for my heart. And soul…
Here’s a picture of them enjoying the pool. I was the photographer this time. I expect my participation to be documented in future pool explorations (of which I hope the next is soon).
Teagan (on left) and Rachel (on right). Both very happy.
When my youngest nephew Gray (now 20) was born I looked after his two older siblings (5 and almost 3) for the first few weeks while my sister was getting settled in with a new baby. Our most joyful outings were to the pool– there no one was sad or grumpy or tired or bored. We splashed and played and hung out and ate snacks and enjoyed the water and each other. Honestly, is there anything better?
This winter season, if you’re feeling in need of a pick-me-up, borrow a kid or a friend or take yourself to a pool. Splash around. Do a handstand underwater. See how long you can hold your breath. Dive for random objects thrown to the bottom. Oh, and don’t forget to bring snacks and fluffy towels, too.
Well, it’s happened again– we are falling back (as opposed to springing forward) in North America. For me, falling back is great, as I love the feeling of having another hour to sleep, loll, and in this case, think about what to write for the blog.
Sometimes, however, a picture (or in this case, a video) is worth more than words. If any of you, dear readers, are having trouble with falling back today, I’ve found the perfect assistance, courtesy of Facebook:
CW: mention of some extreme (but real) health injustices and harm done to people and groups because of it.
This past week was a full-service one for me: after two days of teaching, I flew from Boston to Portland, Oregon for the American Society for Bioethics and Humanities meeting. This is a group of medical professionals, including clinicians, directors of programs, patients’ rights lawyers, clinical ethicists working in hospitals, researchers, and a smattering of philosophers.
I was there to give a talk on GLP-1 (weight-loss) drugs and the complexity of hunger. This is one of two health ethics projects my friend Norah and I are working on these days. More on that in another blog post.
Here are some of the fascinating and important topics people are working on that I Iearned more about:
pregnancy in prison, and the practice of shackling pregnant people during labor and childbirth
how ranking hospitals (e.g. US News rankings) can affect medical policies around managing cancer care
what we can learn from our dogs about euthanasia and end-of-life care for ourselves and our human loved ones
what’s so special about cancer: opioid prescribing for pain and the need for improved and more consistent guidelines across diagnoses
I met lots of interesting and nice people (including a bunch who live in the Boston area) and also saw some colleagues I hadn’t run into in a long time. It was great to see bioethicist Peggy Battin, who is famous for her work on assisted suicide, among many other things. She gave a powerful TED talk in 2014 on her experiences around her husband Brooke’s death five years after he suffered a broken neck in a bike accident. I regularly show this to my students in my Contemporary Moral Problems class during our module on end-of-life ethical issues.
Because we were in Portland, Norah and I had to sneak away from the conference for a couple of hours to go to the Portland Japanese Garden. We were treated to fall colors as well as the varied shades of green in the moss and leaves.
Orange and yellow leaves.Reddish-oranges and greens.Curved tree with yellows and green.
There was a bridge/walkway over and around a pond with large and beautiful fish, several other water features, and a lovely zen garden, carpeted with white Canadian rocks.
fish of many colorsA bamboo and stone water feature.A zen garden.
You may be wondering, what about that llama? Yes, there was a llama– Caesar, the no-drama llama, a prominent Portland celebrity, visited the conference on Friday for a meet-and-greet and photo ops. If you want a moment of respite from our harsh world, look at the video of Caesar here.
Norah and I of course got our pictures taken with Caesar. He is sweet and calm and oh so fluffy!
Me and CaesarNorah, Caesar and me
Everyone gets tired occasionally, especially when they’re the object of so much attention. Caesar is capable of extraordinary ranges of emotion, and his yawn is a sight to see.
Yawning or singing? You had to be there to know for sure.
Despite two cross-country flights, I am feeling refreshed and energized, ready to continue my research work, pursue more fall nature, and keep an eye our for fluffy animal encounters.
Readers, how was your week? Did you get to pet any nice creatures? Stroll through nature? Expand your mental horizons? I’d love to hear from you.
I love gardens all year long. Yes, the spring and summer are the flashiest times to visit, with all the wild colors and shapes and so many shades of green. But I really enjoy the shift to subtler color palettes– the browns and yellows, darker greens, all made different by the softer light and shadows.
A path in botanical garden called Garden in the Woods, near me. Photo by Native Plant Trust.
I’m a member of the Native Plant Trust, which gives me access not just to this botanical garden, but also to dozens of gardens all over the US. I’m planning a few free fall garden walks with friends for November.
But before that, I’ll be in Portland, Oregon at a conference. I’m headed there on Wednesday. While there, my friend Norah and I are taking a little break from the conference activity to visit Portland’s Japanese Garden. I can’t wait to see this place in its version of fall color. Here are some pics from their Fall Colors Tracker page:
Trees shifting to reds and yellowsStrolling pond garden path with oranges and greens.
Closer to home, the Mount Auburn Cemetery is putting on its own show of colors. On their “what’s in bloom” page for this week, here’s what they say:
By mid-October Mount Auburn’s landscape is awash in color. As our many deciduous trees and shrubs begin to transform their foliage into jewel-tone shades of red, orange, yellow, and purple, other plants set out their fall fruits and nuts.
Here’s a photo from Instagram from this week of Mount Auburn Cemetery:
A person walking near the stones amidst bright orange and yellow foliage. Photo by Corinne Elicona.
Readers, do you have any tips for great garden walks in the fall? Let us know.
I keep trying to coax myself into picking up daily or weekly activities but I keep getting thrown off and having to start over.
But instead of being hard on myself about that I’m heading in a different direction…
Maybe this is just not my season for adding daily/weekly activities but since I still feel drawn toward doing something more, I have decided to pick 10 activities to do this month.
Khalee looks so pensive here but I’m pretty sure she was just trying to ignore me. Image description: Khalee, a light brown medium sized dog wearing a harness facing to the left in the photo so we can only see the left side of her face and upper body. She is staring at the fallen leaves on the path ahead of here and she has her mouth opened a little
And I can do them at any time, in any order, and however I want to do them.
Here’s my list:
Flail along with a Zumba dance video (they won’t be flailing, just me)
Do a yoga video that is longer than 30 minutes
Do a meditation session that is longer than 10 minutes
Do a strength training session with exercise bands
Write in my journal while on the floor
Walk to a meeting
Spend at least 20 minutes stretching
Try a kickboxing video
Plant bulbs for next spring
Meet someone for a walk instead of for tea
I’ll do a few updates as I get things done.
If you don’t hear from me about this, feel free to comment here and ask!
Is it just me, or is everyone getting blammed with “reset your workouts! reset your nutrition! reset your home decor! reset your nervous system!” messaging this month?
You may now be thinking, “I get the multiple fall resets, along with the deluge of pumpkin spice-filled potables and edibles messaging”. But reset your nervous system? What does that even mean? How am I supposed to do that? Also, is a cold reboot of my brain or body even a good idea?
I’m not sure I ever want to push this button.Much less a hard reset on me…
Well, some folks think so and are enthusiastically offering us tips on restarting our environments, habits and even neural circuitry in time for fall. Here is an example of what I’m seeing/hearing.
Dan Harris, founder of my favorite meditation app Happier (nee 10% Happier), is doing a whole September reset month of podcast episodes on rewiring your nervous system to reduce stress, heal from trauma, and avoid self-sabotage. Here are some of the topics:
From self-abandonment to self-compassion: Elizabeth Gilbert’s path to inner refuge
Rewiring your inner critic: Beginning Anew for self-compassion and connection
Reclaim your calm: Resetting your nervous system for resilience
I have some thoughts about this.
First, I’m not super handy around the house, so when and if there’s rewiring needed, I outsource it to the professionals. Honestly, this is the kind of thing I don’t ever want to take on as a DIY project:
Who knows what these wires do, and would do to me if I even ventured near them? Thanks, Unsplash for the image.
Similarly, for really big me-problems that require, as it were, major rewiring, I make sure to get some help. And I do, on a regular basis. I’m a long-term fan and participant in therapy, and also an intermittent and enthusiastic physical therapy client.
Second, I agree that it’s important to be the stewards of our own well-being; I mean, if not us, then who? And we all know this. I have my daily and weekly schedules of things-to-do and things-to-do-for-me, which are always in flux, but which I work on and adjust as life unfolds. And one of the things I like about these schedules and routines is that they can be tweaked when unexpected things happen, or when I just need a little change-up. Engaging in a major directional change is not easy– it’s super-disruptive in itself, so I try not to throw out my usual plans unless there’s a really compelling set of reasons.
Of course, sometimes there are compelling reasons. These podcast speakers talk in detail about those life extremes and offer an account of how they navigated through them to calmer times, along with some suggestions for us.
Third– as I said, deciding to embark on a completely new daily life plan is a very big deal. The fact that fall is here is not (for me) a good enough reason to throw myself into resetting my brain to fix all my life-long quirks and vulnerabilities.
September is an important transition time, even for those of you whose lives aren’t governed by the school calendar. I’m all for new beginnings, embracing the change, and welcoming in another season with its new foods, fabrics, and fun times. I’d prefer to meet these shifts without taking on extensive neurophysiology renovations at the same time.
So, dear readers, I encourage us all to take it a bit easier on ourselves from the neck up this month. Except for pumpkin spice– feel free to do you and swan-dive into sights and sounds and smells and tastes as you see fit.
Just a little pumpkin-spice inspo, courtesy of Dan Smedley for Unsplash.
August is a glorious month. Yes, it’s the last month of summer, bringing with it wistfulness and reflection back on all the things that one could have done this summer (like, say, painting my dining room, revamping my fall courses, reading at least twelve books, taking up parasailing– okay, not that last one). But it’s also the month of perfect ripeness (like the fresh tomatoes I ate today), perfect blue skies and blue water (like what I enjoyed at Lake Huron this week) and perfect leisurely company– like the FIFI Bloggers BBQ, held at Samantha’s house on Saturday.
Here we all are, well-fed and feeling very convivial:
From left humans: Diane, Carla, Kim, Susan, Cate, Sarah, Natalie, Samantha, and me. From left dogs: Chase and Cheddar.
Samantha hosted us at her place in Guelph, and folks came from all over Ontario for the party. I had made plans a while ago to combine a trip from Boston to my friend Norah’s rental cottage in Goderich on Lake Huron with a weekend visit to Guelph to visit with Samantha, Sarah, Kathleen (Sam’s mom), her in-town kids, resident animals and any neighbors who stopped by.
This week was one of near-perfect relaxed activity:
swimming in Lake Huron
walking on the lakefront boardwalk in Goderich
drawing the trees and flowers of the area in my journal
hanging out with Sam, Sarah, and the fam
dog walking and farmers’ market purchasing
prepping for and enjoying a yummy potluck BBQ meal
But the best part was seeing folks I hadn’t laid eyes on in a while and also meeting some of the bloggers I’d never seen in person. Diane met all of us for the first time in the flesh– thanks so much for coming, Diane!
We shared stories, bubbly beverages of all sorts, yummy salads brimming with the best produce Ontario has to offer, and loads of other treats brought by folks. Not to play favorites, but Diane’s just-picked fresh cherry tomatoes will go down as some of the best I’ve ever had.
Like you, we bloggers have gotten to know each other through our writing. But there’s nothing like sharing space, food, hugs and laughs together. preferably in someone’s leafy green backyard. Don’t you agree?
This is the second year we’ve met as a group. Not everyone was available– this is just the reality of complex full lives– but I’ve gotten to see just about everyone in the past two years. And I’m pretty sure we’re going to do a repeat event next August.
Now, all we have to do is either a) find a way to transport our Newfoundland bloggers Martha and Christine here next year; or b) ROAD TRIP TO THE ROCK (which is supposedly a nickname for Newfoundland, according to Google; my apologies if this is wrong). Anyway, you get the idea.
I hope all of you, dear readers, are enjoying the last half of August, including (especially?) the tomatoes.
Possibly a view of a road in Newfoundland. It’s what Unsplash gave me, courtesy of Volodymyr Grytsiuk.
