Waiting for the Right Fit


Relax. Enjoy this time off. How many times have I heard those words in the past few months? It has been amazing being off for the summer with the kids. I completed my first Ironman 70.3 on the Big Island. I have time to train for my next triathlon. I relax working in my garden right in my own yard. I do more home cooking than buying fast food. I sleep in. I sleep well. I am grateful. And the added bonus of getting to write at my out-door office next to the garden while enjoying the Hawaiian trade winds? Priceless.

But sometimes I get a little edgy, a little worried and a little freaked out. It makes it impossible to truly relax. Thank goodness for my triathlon training. I would probably be bonkers without it.

I have been given valuable advice in my search for the next great thing: Don’t settle. Find something enjoyable. Find an organization that appreciates your skills and perspective. Don’t underestimate your abilities and skills. Realize how unique and special you are.

As I enjoy this Independence Day and look forward to the fireworks over Maunalua Bay this evening, I give thanks to the radical liberals who stuck out their necks for the future of this great nation. I am always, always, ALWAYS in awe of our Founding Fathers and the foresight in which they created our Constitution. Human rights, freedom from oppression, and the checks and balances of our government keeps our nation somewhat balanced. I am so very grateful for my friends on FB who agree to pleasantly disagree with me politically and are so generous with their virtual hugs.

America: Love it, protect it, and be grateful. Where else would we fit? Peace!

A Quiet Place

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Kid2 is drawing with a calligraphy pen now. Fimo snails.

Kid2 is drawing with a calligraphy pen now. Fimo snails in the tall grass.

On another of my blogs, one that isn’t public, my entries are story ideas. They are bursts of inspiration lingering in the wings of my life, ripening in the background, waiting for their chance to be fleshed out and to breathe. I am more impatient than those ideas. I am tugged in many directions from the moment I wake until the iPhone hits me in the face at night when I’m trying to make my last Words With Friends moves. I visit the site and stare. Brain locked, fingers frozen.

I see this in Kid2, MiniMe. The kid goes great guns when she is first starting a project. Numerous times I’ve uncovered incomplete and late assignments while mining her chaotic room. Each time I do this, I am given a free lesson in what I was and how I need to always be vigilant about the clutter spots I have at home and in my brain. That’s why I have that blog. It helps me make sense of the ideas I have, it is that place I can go when I can finally be a wild writer.

Kid2 is creating an inventory of Fimo swirls for jewelry. One of the many endeavors she launches into.

Kid2 is creating an inventory of Fimo swirls for jewelry. One of the many endeavors she launches into.

When I was a newspaper reporter, writing was done on the fly in a crowded and noisy newsroom. I loved it, and it really taught me how to turn inward, to find that quiet place within my brain, and to focus on the tight deadline writing. I bet if I turned that kind of pressure on myself, I could march those stories out, one by one, and give them the spotlight they deserve.

Intrigued?

 

Distant Journaling on a Bad Storm.

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Start the month right. Give each day a little blog entry. Kiss October’s round and orange jack-o-lantern butt buh-bye. Its moon wanes, high, still a bit bright, and it hangs with Jupiter and Venus in the morning darkness when the … Continue reading

A high-tech heritage in Hawaii


@postaday 84; #postaday2011

Kid1, aka Sophie, was stymied by a homework assignment last night: What connections do you have to a culture and its traditions, customs and rituals?  How does your heritage and culture shape you?

Such an answer is harder, IMHO, for haoles in Hawaii. In  Hawaii we exist in a lifestyle that could be defined by a steam-tray buffet line at an Island party. Rice, noodles, tossed and potato-mac salad populate the long table with sushi, char sui, won tons, Redondo red hotdogs, barbecue short ribs and grilled chicken. Someone might bring a lasagna tray. Someone might bring deviled eggs. We marry into each others families, we live in neighborhoods of mixed ethnicities, children grow up going to school with peers who are Chinese, Hawaiian, Japanese, Korean, Pacific Islanders, Middle and Far Eastern, black and white, and of beautiful blends; Christian, Buddhist, Catholic, Muslim, Jewish, and live-and-let-live types, and nonbelievers.

I like all this. My kids have yet to distinguish their friends based on ethnicity. But it didn’t help my child get her homework done. She knew many of her classmates have strong ethnic identities. We do not. My heritage spans personalities who migrated and married from Switzerland to England to Ireland to America. I count among my ancestors pirates and other bottom-dweller criminal types. Let’s not even touch on spirituality.

Since I’ve distanced myself from my own heritage, there’s very little of that influencing how I raise my children. My in-laws are close, but they are not meddlesome. My mother-in-law might weigh in on something sometimes and she taught the girls fun things when they were little. And it seems my in-laws have compiled an impressively detailed genealogy that will one day fascinate the girls.

So what did Sophie come up with? She wrote a forward looking essay on how technology is her family’s culture, how it connects us with family and friends far and wide, how it has piqued her curiosity and reveals to her the possibilities of what the roads of life have to offer. We are wired, we are wireless. We are on a cloud, we home share music, books and movies on iTunes, we are digitally in touch throughout the day. It is a high-tech cloak of connectivity that defines our small family’s culture. While many of our friends’ families have fascinating histories, I believe we have a fascinating future.