Author Archives: Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Nudging: Complete something on the to do list for 6+ months

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Backstory: This is so embarrassing. There are many things on my list that have been on there for more than six months.

As I sat at my desk and pulled this week’s Nudge, what is front of mind is the thing that has literally been in front of me for over a year: a map dated 1850 of my adopted city that was gifted to me, that I paid a small fortune to frame, that has been sitting on the floor of my office just in front of my desk, staring me down and basically saying “You loser! Please honor me, respect me, and enjoy me before I become just one other piece of junk that some niece or nephew (or stranger) has to dispose of when you’re gone!”

In other words: Hang that map!

Nudged: Go through one bookshelf: toss, donate, share, re-read

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Backstory: Oh, how the stuff piles up. This is a recurring theme in this Nudges project, as I try to clear away the old and make way for the new.

Although this sounds odd for a writer and avid reader, I don’t save a lot of books. I’ve moved so many times, that I grew weary of packing, carrying, and unpacking heavy boxes. Now there’s just one shelf in my office that holds “favorites” I plan to re-read…some day. (Insert eye roll.)

This seems as good as time as any to pull them all out and consider whether I really, truly, want to re-read them or if I’m ready to let them go.

What Happened: Having helped family members clear out both grandmothers’ overflowing homes when they passed away, I dread the thought of burdening someone with doing the same when I’m gone. This is especially concerning to me since I am a childless woman, which means the task will fall possibly on a niece or nephew or, worse, a stranger who will just dump all of my “treasures” into the trash.

Before my Gram passed in 1993, she would ask me, “What do you want when I’m dead?” The question horrified me. “I’m not going to wish for your demise just so I can get your stuff!” I’d say. She finally explained to me that it would help her to know that her most precious possessions would have homes, would be saved for future generations, would be appreciated. I got that.

I was reminded of this as I pulled some childhood favorites off the shelf along with novels I’d loved and classics I hoped to better understand in a second reading. The latter two categories were moved to the stack on my nightstand, with plans to re-read them. If I love them again, they might go back on the newly cleared shelf. If I feel “done” with them, I’ll pass them along to members of my book club or put them into the bag for donations to the library.

But what to do with the Little House on the Prairie books? I had been obsessed with Laura Ingalls Wilder’s stories of pioneer living when I was in elementary school. Seeing the books reminded me of how I’d based much of my playtime on them. The redwood playhouse my father built from a kit was my “little house”, the vegetable garden was my homestead, even the swing set filled in for a wagon. Two books remained from the series, which I quickly re-read. I loved them, but I’ve outgrown them. And since I don’t have children of my own to read them to, it’s time to let them go.

I sent an email to my youngest niece, but she has already read them all. I went through my mental Rolodex of friends with young daughters, made a call, and found a friend whose family was thrilled to get them. I wrote notes to each of the girls in the front, wishing them many wonderful adventures.

Tucked in the back of the shelf was Charlotte’s Web by E.B. White. I knew the gist of the story, but didn’t recall it was a favorite, and wondered why I’d kept it for so many decades. Until I opened the front cover and discovered a note from my Gram, dated 1973. In her distinctive handwriting, she told me how much I was loved, and I felt flooded with warmth and sweet memories.

I re-read the story in one sitting and was, frankly, blown away by the clever and beautiful writing. I loved the messages about what it means to be a good friend, and I cried at the end. (No spoilers.) I then returned to the first page and placed my hand on top of my Gram’s message. As much as I treasured this, I also knew it was ready to grace a new reader’s shelf.

I sent a new email to my niece, and she accepted. Before I wrapped up the book, I added my own handwritten note, dated 2018, telling her how much she was loved.

The Ah-Hahs: It felt good to clear that shelf, even if it was just one little space. It was a start, and I hope I’ll feel motivated to tackle another shelf, then another, until I no longer feel burdened by the accumulated stuff.

But what felt even better was being able to share precious gifts with special people while I could give them in person. My Gram was right about how nice it is to see our treasures being appreciated.

 

Nudging: Go through one bookshelf: toss, donate, share, re-read

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Backstory: Oh, how the stuff piles up. This is a recurring theme in this Nudges project, as I try to clear away the old and make way for the new.

Although this sounds odd for a writer and avid reader, I don’t have a lot of books. I’ve moved so many times, that I grew weary of packing, carrying, and unpacking heavy boxes. Now there’s just one shelf in my office that holds “favorites” I plan to re-read…some day. (Insert eye roll.)

This seems as good as time as any to pull them all out and consider whether I really, truly, want to re-read them or if I’m ready to let them go.

P.S. As always, tailor this Nudge to what works for you. Maybe that means going through old CDs or DVDs. Is there a box of photos in your closet you’ve been meaning to put into an album? What about all those cookbooks gathering dust on the kitchen counter? Pick one (just one) stack and tackle it this week.

Nudged: Buy flowers for the office

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Backstory: This is all about one thing: self care. I should put that in caps: SELF CARE! I suck at this. Oh, I’m great at taking care of others. I call to check in on friends and family members, send notes in sympathy and appreciation, deliver the occasional small gift, remember the milestone events big and small, and drop off flowers, sometimes anonymously. (See the “Do a Fairy Deed” Nudge in April.) But do nice things for myself? Not so much…up until now….

What Happened: I wasted no time on this one. Right after I drew the Nudge on Sunday, I headed to the grocery store, added $5 worth of chamomile blossoms to my cart, and popped them into a vase when I got home. This is what greeted me at when I sat down to work on Monday morning:This sweet bouquet became the focal point of my desk for the week, providing a bit of colorful cheeriness and a slightly earthy fragrance that I found—not surprisingly, for chamomile—calming.

The side benefit is that I got inspired to clean up the space around it. This is in keeping with the “shine your sink” practice taught by the FlyLady. Basically, you start with some small thing (cleaning the kitchen sink), get that cleaned up, then slowly expand your efforts until a whole area (counters, stove top…) is looking good. (Check out the FlyLady’s website for lots of great free advice and tips.)

I finished a big work project late Tuesday, and, having shredded and filed notes as I worked, I started to see the top of my desk again. Wednesday, I set aside some time to clear it off completely. The beautiful pine not only got dusted, but polished. I rearranged and felt I cleared space for the next project, for a client, or maybe one for myself. It felt like my brain had been dusted and polished in preparation for…well, that’s to be revealed, I suppose.

The Ah-Ha: I need to do a major decluttering in my office, and it’s coming. What’s amazing to me is the impact small steps have. Yes, there’s still a pile on the shelf in front of my desk, but my desk itself is cleared and all prettified. Not wanting to wreck that space, I’m more likely to put things in their places than pile it on the desk tomorrow.

That’s all well and good, yet there’s more to this Nudge. During my meditation time one morning, I was drawn to the tiny details in the buds. (Couldn’t get a good photo, unfortunately.) Talk about inspiration for creating! At first glance, I admired them for the simple beauty of the sweet yellow flowers. But upon closer inspection—I even pulled out a magnifying glass—I discovered incredibly complex shades and shapes.

It struck me that this is what happens in my work. People read the end result and it flows. It looks so simple; how many times have I heard “Anyone can be a writer”? But I know—and other creatives know—all the work that goes into making a final product. All the details, all the nuances, all the experiences and skills and hours of effort that I pour into something to make it ”perfect” to outside eyes. Seeing this in the flowers, acknowledging it, made me also acknowledge and appreciate this for myself.

So, flowers for the office: $5.

Acknowledging and appreciating the intricacies of my work: Priceless.

52+: A reply to my thank you note about character

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Kathleen WoodsA few weeks ago I nudged myself to write a note celebrating someone’s character, specifically acknowledging how my friend Ellen rose above the ugliness of a difficult divorce and ultimately brought her extended family closer together. (See “Nudged: Send a note of appreciation for character/a quality”.) I did this Nudge to expand how I look at people and their contributions, and, in all selfishness, it felt really good to do it, to be part of a current of “good” in the world.

I wasn’t expecting a reply, I didn’t need one, which is why it was so fun to get an actual handwritten note in the mail this afternoon.

“Nobody has ever sent me a thank you note like this before,” Ellen wrote. “It was entirely unexpected and wonderful.”

She went on to point out that it was never her intention to be “noble”, simply “I did not want to be of afraid of the unknown or to become bitter and feel I’d wasted my life.” That certainly is powerful motivation to change how we respond to difficult situations.

She also made it clear that she did not do it alone, that it took each family member’s willingness to bravely stand up and move forward. “It took all of these players to turn it into what it has become.”

And I think that’s what I take away from this. The recognizing that we all have our parts to play, our contributions to make. Whether it’s an issue within a family or a company or a country, we can each make a difference and create ripples of positive change.

Sometimes it can start with a thoughtful note.

“Thank you for making me feel good about this,” Ellen wrote in her closing.

I have to say, I’m quite pleased with how this Nudge played out. 🙂

Nudging: Buy flowers for the office

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Backstory: This is all about one thing: self care. I should put that in caps: SELF CARE! I suck at this. Oh, I’m great at taking care of others. I call to check in on friends and family members, send notes in sympathy and appreciation, deliver the occasional small gift, remember the milestone events big and small, and drop off flowers, sometimes anonymously. (See the “Do a Fairy Deed” Nudge in April.) But do nice things for myself? Not so much…up until now….

P.S. For me this week, it’s about getting out and spending a little bit of money on myself, to treat myself to some everyday beauty. Other times when I’ve wanted to do this, I’ve had to get a little creative. Maybe there is something blooming in the backyard. That works in a pinch. I say weeds, my husband says wildflowers. If it’s pretty, pick it! Who cares? I’ve also been known to cut branches from our lemon or olive trees and arrange a vase with just the greenery. Or maybe this is a Nudge to stop and talk with the neighbor whose garden you’ve so been admiring. You might get a cutting for your efforts, and it might even be the start of a beautiful new friendship.

Nudged: Go to service at that church down the street

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Backstory: I consider myself spiritual, not religious. Growing up, my family was part of Church of Religious Science, and I am grateful that I was raised in an environment that respected and celebrated many religious and spiritual expressions. As a young adult, for many years I was active in an open and welcoming Presbyterian church, where I was part of a beautiful community. Despite the years and miles now separating us, many of the people I met there remain dear friends. Following that, I occasionally attended services at an Episcopalian church that was committed to community service and worldwide justice.

I miss some things about being part of a church community, like the deep ties that bind, the support given and received during tough times, the opportunities to serve. But there is a lot I don’t miss, like the closed-mindedness, the exclusivity, the strict doctrine that seem to be the core values of far too many many religious organizations.

When I moved to Northern California, my weekends filled with activities with family (I now live less than an hour away from both siblings) and with my soon-to-be-husband. None of these people are regular churchgoers, and I didn’t feel strongly enough to want to pursue finding a home church on my own.

But as I explored my new neighborhood, a few of the churches called out to me. One is a small and modest Catholic church, where I’ve attended a couple of midnight masses on Christmas Eve. One is a small and modest Unity church, which is part of the community of my childhood church. The third is an Episcopalian church. All three are within easy walking distance of my home.

The upside of my drawing this Nudge on Sunday afternoon is that I have given myself a “free” week. That’s kind of a nice break. The challenge, though, is making sure I get to a service this coming Sunday. No excuses, no backing out!

What Happened: On one hand, it was nice to have a “break” this week, in that I didn’t have to perform some task every single day. On the other, it was a little stressful in that I had to make certain nothing distracted me on the one day that this had to happen.

Having decided to get this done early and leave the rest of the day open to spend with my husband, I chose the 8 am service at the Episcopal church. (The other church’s service is at 11 am.) As quietly as possible, I pulled myself together. Heavy sweater (it’s “summer” in San Francisco): check. Housekeys: check. Cash for offering in pocket: check.

The morning was brisk; perfect weather for the 16-minute walk. My mind by this point was fully awake, and as I descended from our front door to the sidewalk, the never-ending To Do List began its assault on me: I’ve got sausage and potatoes to make for B for breakfast, I’ll check the blueberry plants when I get back, I need to unlock the dog door so Louie can get out to pee, did I leave laundry in the dryer yesterday?, I’ve got to stop doing … Oh my goodness, are those Dahlias?!

Dahlia season in San Francisco is fantastic, and in the yard I passed, there appeared to be an explosion of color. Magnificent! I stopped for just a moment to take them in, then continued on my walk as the To Do List picked up where it left off: I wonder if this church will be active in social justice, I would love to find a group to become involved with … Hello, little bird! And good morning to you, too!

My To Do List was no match for the colorful gardens, stately trees, joyful song birds, and other examples of pure beauty that interrupted my thoughts, and I reached my destination aware of the smile on my face.

It was a small gathering, as early morning services often are, and I liked the quiet. It felt contemplative, prayerful, and less of a show than the boisterous services that happen later in the day. I also felt that since I had taken the time to transition there through my walk (versus racing there in my car and coming straight to the sanctuary), I was open and ready to receive the message of the day.

And what a message it was. God is a god of second chances, I was reminded. Let go of attachments to things and expectations. Surrender. Be open to your calling. Be open to change.

Coincidence? Hardly. I left feeling like I’d had a one-on-one with God.

The Ah-Hahs: I took a different route, past different gardens, for my walk home, and as I took in their unique beauty, I was reminded of one year when I took my grandmother out for Easter Sunday. “Which church would you like to go to?” I’d asked. “Let’s go into the park,” she said, meaning Yosemite, which she lived near. “It’s God’s church.” This walk, I felt, was also part of God’s church.

With each step, I started to think about all of the reasons I had loved being part of a church community. Do I have to be part of a religious organization to have that in my life? There are so many causes about which I’m passionate and where I might be able to volunteer my time and talents. Or maybe I can start applying for staff positions at nonprofit organizations where I could do good works as part of a team and pull a paycheck. I could do their social media, write press releases and newsletters. I could…maybe….

A blooming cactus caught my eye. “Slow down,” it seemed to say to me. “Clear the chatter from your mind, release and surrender, listen and contemplate. Be open.” Yes. That.

What a great way to begin a fresh new week.

 

52+: The gift of saying “No (thank you)”

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Kathleen WoodsLast week I was presented with a fabulous professional opportunity, one that would allow me to use much of my experiences and skills. I was thrilled! After the initial interview and offer, I told them I would get back to them soon with my answer.

I’d hoped I could respond on the spot, but I felt I first needed to do my homework. I did some research on the corporate culture, talked to a guy in a similar position at another company to get an understanding of the realities of the job, and looked back at goals and aspirations I had set for myself at the start of the year.

For some reason, I couldn’t pull the trigger. Two days went by as I sweated my options, feeling I should say “yes,” while something, I didn’t know what, was telling me maybe, just maybe, it was a “no.”

On the third morning I woke early with the whole struggle heavy on my mind. I needed to give them my answer. I bundled up in my robe that feels like a hug, went to my desk, and scribbled out a pro/con list. Not surprising, the pros were winning. The position fit with my interests, there was opportunity for future promotion, and I was wanted—they had approached me, which always feels good. And yet…. I called my husband into my office to ask what I should do. I believe his exact words were, “Pull yourself together, woman!”

I went to a quiet spot for a talk with myself. “Okay, Kath, deep breath. If you were up getting ready to go to this job in a couple of hours, how would you feel?” Ah-hah. The answer was immediate. I would not feel excited, because I didn’t feel the job was going to be fun.

Now, this isn’t to say I’m afraid of hard or demanding work; I love when my work is all-absorbing, but time flies only when you’re devoting your energies to projects you love. This job wasn’t it. I recalled when a friend/mentor years ago advised me about another career choice I had to make. “If it isn’t a definite ‘YES!,” she said, “it’s a ‘no’.”

And so I graciously declined.

Naturally, for the next 48 hours I beat myself up, worried that I’d blown something big. But I have faith that it will all work out. I believe something is coming soon that will be fun, work that will have me springing out of bed every morning.

Certainly much of the intention of this 52Nudges experiment is saying “Yes” to new experiences, however, I am also learning the gifts of the genuine “No.” In his book Let Your Life Speak (see “For Inspiration” in the right column), Patrick J. Palmer  talks about the value of “ways closing.” I get this. Sometimes something that feel like a disappointment, or even a failure, turns out to be a blessing because the loss of it makes way from something better. Its closing allows for a new way to be opened.

With that in mind, I am a girl still in search of her “YES!”, and I am excited to find out what it is.

Nudging: Go to service at that church down the street

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Backstory: I consider myself spiritual, not religious. Growing up, my family was part of Church of Religious Science, and I am grateful that I was raised in an environment that respected and celebrated many religious and spiritual expressions. As a young adult, for many years I was active in an open and welcoming Presbyterian church, where I was part of a beautiful community. Despite the years and miles now separating us, many of the people I met there remain dear friends. Following that, I occasionally attended services at an Episcopalian church that was committed to community service and worldwide justice.

I miss some things about being part of a church community, like the deep ties that bind, the support given and received during tough times, the opportunities to serve. But there is a lot I don’t miss, like the closed-mindedness, the exclusivity, the strict doctrine that seem to be the core values of far too many many religious organizations.

When I moved to Northern California, my weekends filled with activities with family (I now live less than an hour away from both siblings) and with my soon-to-be-husband. None of these people are regular churchgoers, and I didn’t feel strongly enough to want to pursue finding a home church on my own.

But as I explored my new neighborhood, a few of the churches called out to me. One is a small and modest Catholic church, where I’ve attended a couple of midnight masses on Christmas Eve. One is a small and modest Unity church, which is part of the community of my childhood church. The third is an Episcopalian church. All three are within easy walking distance of my home.

The upside of my drawing this Nudge on Sunday afternoon is that I have given myself a “free” week. That’s kind of a nice break. The challenge, though, is making sure I get to a service this coming Sunday. No excuses, no backing out!

P.S. Church not your thing? No problem. Maybe this is the week you check out a workshop that has intrigued you, or a Meet-Up with people who share a hobby you’d like to pursue, or you find a free lecture or art gallery event nearby. Or maybe this is the week you break out of your Starbucks routine and try the coffee at Dunkin’ Donuts (which apparently is delish) or pop into that independent hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that always looks so inviting. I hope you’ll share where you go in Comments.

Nudged: Memorize a short poem or monologue

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Backstory: I used to have an almost photographic memory, and the funny part is, I didn’t realize this was unusual till I was a teenager. It was a useful gift when I was doing plays and singing with different groups through my 30s. But in recent years, I haven’t used it much. What’s the old saying about our gifts and aging? “Use it or lose it!”

I didn’t have to think too hard about which poem or monologue I wanted to learn. William Shakespeare’s “Sonnet 29” has always been my favorite, and in previous attempts to memorize it, I’ve gotten stuck on that one tricky section: “Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, / Featured like him, like him with friends possessed.” Wishing me like to one… That’s been a brain twister for me in the past, and I have to assume it will still be a twister for my older and flabbier brain.

SONNET 29
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

To keep myself honest, I told my husband what I’d picked and promised to give a live recitation by end of week. Here we go….

What Happened: This was so much fun! I printed the poem out in large font, double-spaced, and taped it to my office door so I’d see it frequently. Every day I focused on a couple of lines, spending more time breaking down the tricky ones (Like to a lark at break of day arising…from sullen earth), then practicing linking them to the lines before and after. I practiced in my car, in bed (silently, in my head), in the shower (out loud and heaping on the dramatic effects), until I felt I could do it perfectly.

Friday night. Dinner ready to be served. My husband looked weary and hungry, but he would have to earn his supper by being my audience. Deep breath…

When in disgrace….

I nailed it!

The Ah-Hah: This was crazy-fun. Plus, as I expected, it felt really good to exercise my brain. I think, too, that it helped to distract me from much of the unpleasantness in our world. Instead of wasting precious time watching depressing news or reading stories on Facebook that made my blood pressure rise, I spent time memorizing something beautiful.

Well done, me! Or as Shakespeare might say*, “Indeed the top of admiration!”

*Okay, he actually did say it. In Act III, Scene 1, Ferdinand says to Miranda: “Admired Miranda! / Indeed the top of admiration, worth / What’s dearest to the world!”