Golden Times

Last night Bill and I attended a concert at Seattle’s Town Hall in which the musicians played medieval instruments. One such instrument was a ceng. Looking and sounding a bit like a modern harp, the ceng was played with such sensitivity that, as the music floated up from it, I found myself mentally hanging onto each note as if doing this would somehow freeze it in my mind. After a few moments, though, I realized that clinging to one note prevented me from hearing the next, and that to enjoy all of the music, I had to let each tone  freely pass through me as it was played.

In a similar manner, I've found myself wanting to preserve a golden time of my life -- to stop the clock and forestall the end of a wonderful, but transient era -- playing with my children, romping with the dogs on our little farm, hiking with a group of “empty nester” friends, and, lately, painting with fellow artists and enjoying time with my husband Bill, a happy addition to my life's second act.

After all, just like the notes of the ceng, each golden moment recedes into the past much too quickly. But continually looking back and clinging to a passed experiences would keep me from enjoying the ones to come, so instead I remind myself to savor each moment as it moves through my life -- and then let it go.

"Best Friends" (c) 2009-2012 by Megan Davis Seagren

Artists Are Not Like Software Engineers

As mentioned in a previous post, last year I joined an artist studio after having spent more than 20 years in high tech. While I've rubbed elbows with artistic types in the past, I've never been in a work environment with them before, and although this may not come as a surprise to you, what amounts to a revelation to me is this: Artists are not like software engineers.**

This fact first dawned on me during the studio annual meeting (required by regulation because of the studio's LLC status), which was held right after I joined. I'm used to business meetings being called and driven by a major stakeholder or owner of the project under discussion, or at least someone who has a lot of skin in the game. This person sets a formal agenda and keeps people focused on its points during the meeting. The goal is to reach agreement on how each point is to be addressed, and to assign action items to participants. Following the meeting, the owner follows up to make sure each action item is addressed and closed on and the results circulated to the meeting attendees according to an established timeline. (And of course, the fact that time is of the essence goes without saying.) 

I submit that if you're a business professional, you've probably read the previous paragraph and thought, "And...?" But if you're an artist, you're likely squirming in discomfort entertaining the image of such an environment, and mentally looking for the Exit door. I could be wrong about this, of course, as I'm just in the learning phases about how artists experience such things. But at least based on my observations so far, artists don't tend to be nearly as linear in their thinking and their goals tend to be somewhat open-ended, allowing for unexpected things to occur. Serendipitous Things. Not that either approach to conducting one's particular type of business is better or worse than the other. The two are just very, very different. 

So, back to my first studio meeting. There was a suggested time for us to get together, and when everyone had arrived, about 20 minutes or so after the suggested time (I was probably the only one who noticed), someone suggested that we look at the LLC documents to see what we were supposed to do. The documents were found and dug out of their folder, and it was determined that we needed to elect officers. The current president called for volunteers, and one person volunteered for each spot, while another person wrote down their names and positions on a piece of paper. Because we had a new treasurer, there was some discussion about the bank account and how money was collected and deposited. The departing treasurer indicated that people new to the LLC should go to the bank and sign the signature card. Next, the discussion turned to our studio party and somehow (I was unable to sort out how it happened) the date was picked, and a menu decided upon. 

During the entire meeting, I was certain that nothing was going to emerge from this loosey-goosey approach but chaos, but fortunately had the good sense to keep my mouth firmly shut. After a surprisingly short period of time, the business part of the meeting faded into a purely social time, and that was that. Six months later, I can report that everything was carried off flawlessly, and with no fuss whatever. In fact, the way the studio operates is awesome, but I won't take more time for that here. I think I'm still a bit shocked. 

So here's my attempt at a visual illustration of the two types of meetings. Interestingly, both software engineers and artists like to draw pictures (although software engineers like to call them "diagrams").

Typical Business Meeting in High Tech

Annual Studio Meeting

** Disclaimer: Of course, I realize that no person is purely artist or purely software engineer, or purely anything else for that matter. Individuals are always a mixture, and imposing stereotypes ensures that nuances will be missed. Nevertheless, I'm going to do it anyway because, taken as a group, IMHO artists are in fact very different from software engineers.

You might also enjoy:

• Overcoming Fear of Paint  -  Someone once said to expand your abilities and horizons, you should do one thing a day that makes you afraid.
• More Fear of Paint - I'm still putting lots of paint on the page while holding my breath.

Holiday Gifts for Kids in Need

Dear Friends,

I have a personal holiday tradition of buying new clothing for local teens in need. When Bill and I lived in Kirkland, we donated the items to Hopelink, which has offices on the east side of Lake Washington. Last year we moved to Seattle, so we're now supporting an organization here, Treehouse for Kids, that collects gifts (clothing, toys, etc.) for foster kids of all ages. I'll be taking donations to their collection site on Friday morning, December 16. The last day to donate for the holiday drive is Saturday, December 17.


If you want to join me in this endeavor, here's a wish list of items you could buy: Wish List

Or, if you'd rather donate money, you can do so online. Just click the "Donate Now" button on this page: http://www.treehousef...

If you live near Ballard and want me to deliver your donations along with ours, comment on this post or send me a message. If you're not here in Seattle, I hope you'll support a similar organization in your own community and help kids in need during the holidays.

Thanks and Happy Holidays!
Megan

How Much Stuff Does It Take to Be Happy?

Recently, my young friend Lori wrote about paring down her possessions so she can move to the east coast and attend a writing program. In her post, she lists five benefits of owning less, including

• saving money,
• gaining appreciation of the stuff you decide to keep,
• traveling and relocating more easily,
• making other people happy by giving them your castoff things, and
• reducing the urge to buy more stuff and thereby overspend.

To Lori's list, I'd add this bullet:

• feeling great about "treading more lightly on the earth," counteracting the trend seen in this terrific, and terrifying, video:

Anyway, the subject of stuff is one I've been thinking about for years. It started with a study I read in Utne Reader about 15 or so years ago. It reported that the happiest people on earth were living in a tiny town in India, where a person with a stool to sit on was considered rich. In spite of the dearth of physical possessions, the people in this village managed to educate their children from a communal library, maintain good health, and have strong social bonds. 

This shocked me. I haven't been able to find it on the web to share it with you, and it may not still be valid, but the point is, it got me thinking. Up until then, like many people around me, I'd measured success in monetary terms. For example, one of my goals was to earn enough money to buy a pair of gold hoop earrings. When I finally had enough extra money for them, I judged I'd really "made it."

BUT -- what was next? What would really make me and the kids happier? (We were already happy, I should add.) More stuff to follow the earrings?? Accumulating possessions seems to be the goal of many of us in this country. I kept thinking about this. And buying more stuff.

I found it difficult, if not impossible, to go against the flow, to take a different direction than the larger society, regardless of any intentions otherwise. As time went on, though, I began feeling weighed down. Possessions were supposed bring happiness, but the pleasure was short-lived, and then I had to worry about housing, cleaning around, and moving an ever-increasing amount of stuff.

When the kids left home for college about a decade ago, I started paring down, hoping to lighten this burden. About halfway through that process, Bill and I met, married, and merged households, so I got to weed out even more stuff. Then the kids needed us to store "just a few boxes" for them. During that time, I felt like I'd acquired some very bad "garage karma" because no sooner did I get it cleaned out, than it would magically fill up again, with no help from me.

Now, a few years later, I'm in the final stages of what turned into a gigantic effort. Last year, Bill and I moved into the city to be closer to his work and cultural activities. Because homes here cost nearly twice as much per square foot as the suburban home we'd left, and we wanted to tread more lightly on the earth, we bought a small house, small enough, in fact, to be considered a "cottage." However, in spite of my efforts up to now, we still had way too much stuff to fit in it. Now, after another whole year of weeding out, and with some things still to give away, we can finally walk around the house  without tripping over too many things.

We fit everything into our cottage, almost.

While it's been a big adjustment to live in such as small space, by today's American standards anyway, I'm pleased to report being much, much happier here than when living in a far larger house with lots and lots more stuff.

In sum, if I had it to do all over again, this would be my theme, as gorgeously performed by Ella Fitzgerald:



You might also enjoy:

• World Environment Day  - I never would have heard about this, but for a comment from a reader in Indonesia.
• Buhtan's Gross National Happiness  -  Would you rather have your government promote happiness or gross domestic product? 

Bhutan's Gross National Happiness

I just learned about this on Create and Share, and then found this video and more background in a Wikipedia article. Here's the deal: the US along with many other countries, measure the success of their policies by using "Gross Domestic Product" as an indicator.  Since 1972 the goal of Bhutan's government has been to support and improve the people's happiness, using "Gross National Happiness" as an indicator. If you could choose, which one would you prefer that your government use?

BTW, I just read this article, which reports that Bhutan has attained the position of #8 in the world in terms of its people's happiness, whereas the US ranks #23.

Elegy for a couple of trees

I wrote this poem a couple of years ago after a developer took down two beautiful Douglas fir trees in the little park right behind our house. Bill and I had battled for two years to save all of the trees, and succeeded except for these two. I was very sad about their loss because they had made our yard feel peaceful and protected and were always full of birds. I started to write this elegy and realized that I was grieving more than two trees. As you know, my posts run to light and humorous, but to fully feel the joy and laughter of life you have to be willing to go into the sadness of it sometimes as well. Today I'm particularly missing my daughter who is far away in Australia, although very near in my heart.

Elegy for a couple of trees

The trees came down this morning,

Two tall firs that had been my constant companions

through the kitchen window.

Guardians of my backyard garden.

I knew they were coming down

and tried to prepare for the loss.

It was no use.

No more could I prepare for the day

when the children left home

or the dogs made their last trip to the vet.

Like the spaces left behind by the trees,  

they left behind empty places

in my day-to-day life, 

but not in my heart,

where I keep them close by.

On Being Friends

Friends, as we all know, are one of life's greatest blessings. Friends celebrate our joys, mourn our griefs, and sometimes even laugh at our jokes. Friends keep us company in this big huge world. Friends also teach us new things, for example, my best friend and husband, Bill, is trying very, very hard to teach me how to golf.

Of all the wonderful things that friends do, though, the one I like best is the way they broaden my perspective on life. The people I end up spending the most time with are very different from me. Many of them come from different parts of the country and the world and represent the gamut of backgrounds, interests, religions, political and sexual orientations, and so on.

For example, one of my dearest friends shares my love of ballroom dancing and photography, but in lots of other ways is quite different from me. While I'm always changing houses and jobs, she keeps hers for years and years. And even though working with technology is my profession, I'm uncomfortable with tech gadgets. My friend, however, is always trying out the latest ones. She has a magic pen that records the person speaking while you take notes, a picture frame that flips photos automatically, so you don't have to break your fingernails turning album pages, and a little thing that looks like a book that also turns the pages for you. You just have to tap something, I think. It's all a bit mysterious.

You'll not be surprised then, to learn that my friend and I also differ in our preferences for pets. While we both have outdoor pets, they are quite different types. I have two pet crows and a yard squirrel. She has a pet wisteria.

My friend is very fond of her pet.

You might think it a bit odd that someone would keep a wisteria as a pet. I certainly did. After all, they don't eat things you put out for them or poop in your yard. But as time goes on, I've learned that wisterias actually make excellent outdoor pets.

For one thing, they keep roving bands of children out of the yard.

Wisteria bravely defending the yard from hordes of children.

For another thing, they keep marauding animals out of the yard.

Wisteria guarding against animal threats.

Unfortunately, they don't do as well with neighbors' cars. Neither do bushes, for that matter.

Wisteria even allied with bushes are no match for an automobile.

 So, you see, this friend with the pet wisteria has broadened my perspective on what makes a good pet, and I've learned a new appreciation for her pet wisteria ...

... from a distance.

Please share:

Friends broaden my perspective on things such as what makes a good pet.

Laundry Day Haiku

Socks find their own way

To my dresser drawer
Not always on a straight path

The mate to a pair

I thought was lost for good

Mysteriously shows up

Nora Ephron, Writer

I just watched an online interview with Nora Ephron, who wrote and directed Julie and Julia among other great, funny movies. Here are a couple of quotes from the interview about story-making:

“Someone once said that there are only two facts about your life: when you’re born and when you die and everything in between is how you choose to tell the story, or how someone else chooses to tell the story."

"My mother used to say, 'Everything is copy,' meaning that every event in your life will become a story."

Nora Ephron Interview