Author Archives: Kathleen Guthrie Woods

Nudging: 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….

 

P.S. Although I’m still working out the technical kinks, I now have a SUBSCRIBE button on this site. I hope you’ll sign up and join me in each week’s Nudge. And tell your friends! 🙂

Nudged: Send a note of appreciation for character/a quality

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Backstory: I’m a big “fan” of thank you notes, so much so that I have a rule that I won’t use, wear, or eat a gift until I’ve written a note thanking the giver for their thoughtfulness and generosity. I do this even if I don’t like the gift! When someone has spent some time thinking about, shopping for, and spending their hard-earned money on something for me, I can spend five minutes of my time saying thank you.

But this Nudge is a little bigger and was inspired by something else. Years ago, a writing teacher challenged me to send a fan letter to an author I admired. (I believe Carolyn See recommends this in her book, Making a Literary Life, but other writers and writing coaches recommend this.) It’s scary as heck. I can easily rationalize that this BIG FAMOUS PERSON is too busy to want to be bothered by me, that he or she will only be annoyed that I’ve taken up some of their precious creative time.

But I did it. I sent an email to one of my favorite authors, gushing (not too much) about how much I have loved his books and how grateful I am that he has shared his stories. I got a reply in minutes: “You made my day! Thank you!” I’ve since reached out to other writers with a quick email praising their work and thanking them, and every time I’ve heard back within minutes of hitting send.

What’s this about? Well, it’s pretty obvious when I think about it. Like me, they spend all day, most days, alone with a computer and their thoughts. They put their hearts and souls onto paper, then send it out into the world, hoping it will be loved and not critiqued to oblivion. Most readers are quick to be judgmental and can often be cruel. But to get a genuine note of appreciation? Rare.

So it is with the rest of us. We are bombarded with negativity, from peers, family members, advertising, social media. But how often do we hear “I think you’re great, just because you’re you”?

I want to change that, for at least one person.

What Happened: Who might I write to? What might I say? What were characteristics I wanted to acknowledge? I lay awake the night after I chose this Nudge, thinking through my list of close friends and what I admired about each one: persistence, optimism, care for the planet, a rare talent.

A friend I’ll call Ellen came to mind. Several years ago she went through a horrible divorce when her husband of many decades announced he was having an affair with a woman younger than his adult children. Oh…and she was pregnant with their child.

Had it been me at the receiving end of this bombshell, I would have slashed his tires while waiting for a voodoo doll to be made in his image, letting bitterness course through my veins and hatred attach itself to my DNA. But she didn’t do any of that. Okay, she was pretty upset at first, but then she decided this wasn’t who she wanted to be. Instead, she reached out to family members who also felt betrayed, talked them through their own desires to slash tires, arranged meetings, and mediated reconciliations. The family now spends holidays together. The whole family. Ellen is now the godmother of the little boy who was the product of that affair.

Her mature, compassionate, incredibly gracious behavior is something I greatly admire. I’d like to be like her when I grow up, and I told her so in my note.

The Ah-Hah: After I mailed my note, I thought about this a bit more deeply. In a time, a world, in which there seems to be so much ugliness, I feel torn by how I could help. My dollars aren’t a drop in the bucket of starvation, poverty, terror. My tiny voice of political activism doesn’t appear to be changing anything. And while I will always vote, in every election, it’s hard to not feel discouraged.

So here’s Ellen, a woman who did something small by making choices that positively impacted her life. And then, from that good place, she reached out and made a positive impact on the small circle of family around her. I heard about her actions and shared it with a friend who was heading into what could have been a difficult divorce, to demonstrate there was another—a better—way. Think of all the ripples of our choices!

Ripples, ripples, pay it forward. We might not make the history books, but the choices we make have the power to change history. Truly. So let’s make some good choices.

“Be more concerned with character than with your reputation, because your character is what you really are, while your reputation is merely what others think you are.”

—John Wooden, legendary basketball coach and great human

Nudging: Send a note of appreciation for character/a quality

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Backstory: I’m a big “fan” of thank you notes, so much so that I have a rule that I won’t use, wear, or eat a gift until I’ve written a note thanking the giver for their thoughtfulness and generosity. I do this even if I don’t like the gift! When someone has spent some time thinking about, shopping for, and spending their hard-earned money on something for me, I can spend five minutes of my time saying thank you.

But this Nudge is a little bigger and was inspired by something else. Years ago, a writing teacher challenged me to send a fan letter to an author I admired. (I believe Carolyn See recommends this in her book, Making a Literary Life, but other writers and writing coaches recommend this.) It’s scary as heck. I can easily rationalize that this BIG FAMOUS PERSON is too busy to want to be bothered by me, that he or she will only be annoyed that I’ve taken up some of their precious creative time.

But I did it. I sent an email to one of my favorite authors, gushing (not too much) about how much I have loved his books and how grateful I am that he has shared his stories. I got a reply in minutes: “You made my day! Thank you!” I’ve since reached out to other writers with a quick email praising their work and thanking them, and every time I’ve heard back within minutes of hitting send.

What’s this about? Well, it’s pretty obvious when I think about it. Like me, they spend all day, most days, alone with a computer and their thoughts. They put their hearts and souls onto paper, then send it out into the world, hoping it will be loved and not critiqued to oblivion. Most readers are quick to be judgmental and can often be cruel. But to get a genuine note of appreciation? Rare.

So it is with the rest of us. We are bombarded with negativity, from peers, family members, advertising, social media. But how often do we hear “I think you’re great, just because you’re you”?

I want to change that, for at least one person.

Nudged: Go to a park for 30 minutes; sit, breathe, do nothing

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Backstory: I groaned when I drew this Nudge, as it may be among the hardest I’m asking myself to do. And this week of all weeks, with client deadlines and meetings and a funeral to attend and financials to catch up and laundry that’s overflowing the bin and events to plan and…and that’s the point. Out of the 168 hours in this coming week, I can—and should—take 30 minutes for myself to get quiet, to rest and recharge, but really, to do nothing.

The view from my bench.

What Happened: From the moment I drew this Nudge I looked for ways to fudge on it. What if I broke it up into 10-minute segments? No. Could I do this while walking, sort of a meditation? No. Should I use up one of my passes? No! As I trudged through the week, I looked to the weekend, thinking I could squeeze this Nudge in before or after another event. But late today, Thursday, I pushed aside the to do list and headed out.

The drive to a nearby lake took less than 10 minutes. That’s right, I live within 15 minutes of three lakes, and I go to them how often? Pathetic. It was chilly, so bundled in my parka with fake-furry hood and gloves, a dog blanket from the car wrapped around my legs, I found a spot on a bench. The winds were high, and I found if I leaned into them, they supported me. It felt kind of like that Trust game we played as kids, where you lean back and trust that someone will catch you.

Ducks (mallards?) with elegantly dark green heads flew past, quacking to each other. For once, I was able to block out all of the other noise around and inside me to hear them. Actually, it was more than that. In January I attended a design conference at which one of the speakers, artist Jenny Odell spoke on “How to do Nothing.” She introduced the concept of bird-noticing. Not just watching and cataloguing, but listening, appreciating. Since then, I’ve noticed more birds around the neighborhood (most often in the morning when the one whose song sounds like the battery in our smoke alarm has died wakes me waaay too early).

To truly notice, you have to slow down, you have to be quiet. It’s not just turning your mobile phone to vibrate, but quieting your pace, your breathing, your mind. I did that today. And even though I struggled to stay in place for the full 30 minutes (it was quite cold), I am so glad I did it. Mother Nature rewarded my efforts, I think.

The Ah-Hah: This time, this quiet, was such a gift. I need to do more of this, especially since I have access to such beautiful places. Can I work a regular “appointment” into my schedule? We’ll see.

Nudging: Go to a park for 30 minutes; sit, breathe, do nothing

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Backstory: I groaned when I drew this Nudge, as it may be among the hardest I’m asking myself to do. And this week of all weeks, with client deadlines and meetings and a funeral to attend and financials to catch up and laundry that’s overflowing the bin and events to plan and…and that’s the point. Out of the 168 hours in this coming week, I can—and should—take 30 minutes for myself to get quiet, to rest and recharge, but really, to do nothing.

Nudged: Meditate for 60 minutes (10+ mins./day)

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Backstory: This is something I started working on last year, with mixed results. Some days or weeks I’d be on it, and I felt the impact in my level of calm, my focus. Most days and weeks, though, I was too easily distracted by the things that Life threw at me.

Naturally, I drew this Nudge ahead of a week that included a deadline for a feature article, deadlines for at least three other short articles, events on three weeknight evenings, and, oh, right, I’d committed to volunteering for a client’s day-long conference (which includes my needing to depart my home at 6:15 in the morning to make the commute). Perfect.

But really, when does Life ever stop to allow us to do the things we need/want to do? Um, never. So let’s make this happen.

What Happened: In her book Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear,  Elizabeth Gilbert shared a conversation with Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön about her observations that people tend to quit their meditation practices just when it gets interesting—i.e., boring, uncomfortable, difficult. But. That’s when the magic comes in. I didn’t know if I’d get to that place in one week’s time, but I was eager to find out.

Day 1: Ten minutes feels like a looong time. As the timer on my phone ticks silently, I sit at my desk with eyes closed, trying to focus. My nose feels assaulted by my perfume, suddenly too strong, and the scented candle I’ve lit. My mind wanders to the to do lists for all the various projects in play. I am acutely aware that there is too much “noise” in my life. Practice. It’s a practice, it’s not supposed to be perfect.

Day 2: This is hard. Last night I got only a few hours of sleep, and I am a wreck today. I am also distracted by my messy (to my mind) surroundings. I want to tear apart my office and make neat little piles of everything so I can go through it all in an orderly fashion. I want to purge my closet, replacing only the items that truly make me look and feel my best. I want to go to the gym and get my blood pumping back up to my brain, but but but…. With all this whirling in my brain, I choose to drop it all and, for 10 minutes, sit in quiet. Be present, be present, says a chorus of gentle voices as my mind again tries to wander. My breathing slows, my spine straightens, my mind clears. So, calmer, more focused and determined, it’s back to work I go.

Day 3: Ten minutes still feels like an eternity. Maybe I should have eased in with increments of five minutes? Still, I can do anything for ten minutes, right? Maybe that’s the point, that I allow my overworked brain to rest for ten minutes a day. In today’s session, I feel called to lay hands on a project that has not been getting a lot of love from me lately. I tell it, “Today we’re going to kick ass!” It’s fun to talk to it like a living entity, and I feel inspired to move it ahead of other tasks on the to do list.

Day 4: Twelve-hour work day, no breaks. I was in my pajamas at 6:30 pm. If I close my eyes for two minutes, I’ll fall asleep.

Day 5: Today is another deadline day and I began my work shift feeling overwhelmed. I did a half-assed five-minute meditation session, and although I would have benefited from more, just that much bolstered my clarity and focus.

Day 6: It’s been another long day, this one filled with household chores. My poor brain aches from the constant mental chatter ranging from random song lyrics and rundowns of to do lists for the various parts of my life (work, social, fitness), to thoughts about family members and friends and concerns for our hurting world. So I light some candles, sit in our quiet living room, and set the timer for a 15-minute catching-up session. A few minutes in, my head drops to my chest and startles me awake. I straighten up, reground my feet, focus on my breathing. I finish the session feeling refreshed, and this strengthens my resolve to keep practicing.

Day 7: We took a spontaneous road trip today, and I dropped the ball on my meditation time. If I continue this, there is something to be said for scheduling it at the same time every day. Could I do that?

The Ah-Hah: Let’s see…ten plus ten plus…I managed to meditate for 50 minutes this week. For reasons that aren’t yet entirely clear to me, this was harder to do than I anticipated. Technically, I failed to meet my goal of 60 minutes or 10 minutes for six days, but I succeeded at nudging myself into trying something new, something I think is beneficial for me. My one week of meditation practice met Pema Chödrön’s definition of interesting, but I didn’t quite make it to the other side, and I’d like to continue so that I can also experience the promised magic.

 

P.S. If you are interested in starting a meditation practice, the Calm app has some great free and for-a-fee options.

Nudging: Meditate for 60 minutes (10+ mins./day)

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Backstory: This is something I started working on last year, with mixed results. Some days or weeks I’d be on it, and I felt the impact in my level of calm, my focus. Most days and weeks, though, I was too easily distracted by the things that Life threw at me.

Naturally, I drew this Nudge ahead of a week that included a deadline for a feature article, deadlines for at least three other short articles, events on three weeknight evenings, and, oh, right, I’d committed to volunteering for a client’s day-long conference (which includes my needing to depart my home at 6:15 in the morning to make the commute). Perfect.

But really, when does Life ever stop to allow us to do the things we need/want to do? Um, never. So let’s make this happen.

Nudged: Have a glass of wine with lunch; linger

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Backstory: My lunch breaks are generally just long enough to get fuel into me for the afternoon’s work. Occasionally I take some of that time to run to the market, dash to the post office, return a due item to the library. Linger? Right. Now, the good news is this week I’m heading out of town on a vacation, and I’ll have at least one opportunity to have lunch on my own. I don’t like eating by myself, and I pretty much never drink by myself. But I’m going to try this, because it’s forcing me to slow down and enjoy my midday meal.

What Happened: After a long walk at the beach, I took myself to a bar for a half turkey sandwich (which I’m guessing was built to feed half of a linebacker), a green salad, and a generous pour of a local Sauvignon Blanc. Yuuum. I alternated reading pages in an absorbing novel (Ahah’s Wife: Or, the Star-Gazer by Sena Jeter Naslun—you can read a thoughtful review here) with looking out the front window to take in the view over the ocean. A bite, a sip, a not-too-obvious sigh of contentment. I ate slowly; a change for me. I enjoyed every quiet moment, and I finished everything on my plate with a little wine left.

Now, the problem, I’ve discovered, is when I have enough good wine, it works on my brain in some unexpected ways, such as “Of course you want dessert!” So I enjoyed the last sips with a deeply rich chocolate torte (nestled in a bath of crème fraîche, dear God in Heaven), then finished the meal with a cup of sugary, creamy coffee. A nap, which also felt like an indulgence, followed.

The Ah-Ha: Is this what it takes for me to slow down and enjoy a meal? Pretty much, and how sad that is. But a lunch ’n’ linger experience is not something that can happen on a regular Monday through Friday. I also don’t want it to be something that only happens on vacation. I need to find some balance. Maybe it’s something I treat myself and my husband to once a week, on the weekend, along the lines of brunching while lingering over the Sunday New York Times.

Speaking of balance, I also need to figure out how to balance the positive impact (actual lingering) with the semi-negative (I really didn’t need that torte).

52+: What does “52” mean?

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A few weeks in, I received an email from a long-time friend who had just checked out the blog.

“Oh, I get it!” she wrote. “You’re doing 52 things because this year you’re turning 52 on 5/2.”

Whoa.

Hand to God, I had not put this together.

My birthday is indeed today*, May 2nd, 5/2, and it is with much gratitude that I am celebrating my 52nd anniversary on Earth. But when I started this whole #nudge thing, the only thought I had in mind was to run it for 52 weeks, or one full year.

As I mulled over this fun bit of serendipity, I started to think about the “magic” numbers I’ve had in my life. Forty-six has always been a big one. My paternal grandfather passed away unexpectedly at that age, and every time a member of my family passes this milestone, I let out a sigh of relief while thinking about all the bonus years I have enjoyed. For many years, 17 was the biggie, marking the number of spinal taps I’ve had (long story) and the number of times I’ve been in a wedding party. (I’ve since exceeded 17 for both of those, and I’ve stopped counting.)

For fun, I googled “52” and was reminded it’s the number of playing cards in a deck and the number of white keys on a piano. If you count both caps and lowercase, it’s the number of letters in our alphabet. In combinatorial mathematics, 2, 5, and 52 are all Bell Numbers (don’t ask me to explain that one), and all three numbers are untouchable numbers (and my head is spinning). It’s written “LII” in Roman numerals.

So what’s up with 52? As I look back on past generations, it seems to be an age when women were “done”. They had finished raising families and were settling into the role of grandmother, had retired from any work outside the home, were generally considered “old”, and had given up pursuing new dreams. I can’t wrap my head around any of that. I feel like I’m just getting warmed up!

Anyway, I’m thinking 52 is my new magic number. And I’m thinking I need to pop out and pick up a lottery ticket. Guess which numbers I’ll be playing? 😉

 

*I share this birthday with Catherine the Great of Russia, David Beckham, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson, and Princess Charlotte of England, by the way. I am kinda proud to be a member of this cool club.

Nudging: Have a glass of wine with lunch; linger

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PASS #1: When I started my 52Nudges project, I allowed myself four passes—for any reason. This week my first draw was “Drink one of the DNS bottles of wine.” “DNS” stands for “Do Not Share” and it’s how my husband and I label those really special wines (i.e., we broke the budget) that we want to save for a special occasion (which means they sit in our basement, unenjoyed, for far too long). I knew I was heading out of town this week, so didn’t want to open one of these for just one serving. So back in the bowl went this Nudge, for another week. 

Backstory: My lunch breaks are generally just long enough to get fuel into me for the afternoon’s work. Occasionally I take some of that time to run to the market, dash to the post office, return a due item to the library. Linger? Right. Now, the good news is this week I’m heading out of town on a vacation, and I’ll have at least one opportunity to have lunch on my own. I don’t like eating by myself, and I pretty much never drink by myself. But I’m going to try this, because it’s forcing me to slow down and enjoy my midday meal.

P.S. Not a wine drinker? No problem. You might instead serve yourself a fresh-squeezed lemonade or a fancy, fizzy Italian soda. The beverage you choose is not the point on this one, it’s about allowing ourselves to rest, sip, savor, and linger.