Clearing the Clutter

I was still on a business call when the clutter in my office overcame me and I pulled all the books out of their shelves. There are three six foot bookshelves here; two in my office and one in the living room. When I unpacked in July, I crammed books onto the shelves as they came out of the boxes with no regard for the natural order of things. Before we moved to Colorado from New Hampshire I gave away all but the books I felt I had to keep and all the movies on VHS tapes. Books and movies are heavy and really, were they worth dragging across the country twice?

Where does all this stuff come from? It was chaos. Seymour Hirsch was next to Christopher Moore; Faulkner, Rushdie and the Fodor’s Guide to Northern California were side by side; Chuck Palahniuk was scattered between all three bookcases; and writing how-to books were cozied up with Updike, Robbins and Mastering the Complex Sale!

Clutter paralyzes me and I’ve fought my packrat instincts all my life. I’ve also been nomadic and left a lot of things behind.

Weeks ago when I bought Rightsizing Your Life, Simplifying Your Surroundings While Keeping What Matters Most I was ready to start right in on the spring cleaning, but until yesterday I didn’t know where the book was.

I can live without just about everything I own. I learned that a few years ago when I moved into a one bedroom apartment. I brought only my clothes, bought the things I really needed and I lived in that tiny apartment for a year. It was cozy and the truth is I didn’t need much and I always knew exactly where everything was. I had space to think.

Of all the things I’ve lost or given away over the years, I never missed any of them, except some old photos I lost in a divorce. Some years later I look back and realize losing those pictures taught me that material sentimental attachments aren’t important. What I keep in my head and in my heart is what matters.

My friend Laura’s parents moved from a large home to a condo several years ago. Her father offered the family heirlooms to his children and then carefully photographed and catalogued all the things he loved before he got rid of them. What a brilliant alternative to keeping a basement full of boxes that never get unpacked.

Part of the grand life transition plan Scott and I have is to downsize/rightsize (does anyone else find the proliferation of new non-words a little annoying?) so maybe the two of us can someday move into a dwelling smaller than one that could shelter a family of six.

It’s been six years and five moves since I lived in my tiny, organized apartment and despite draconian purges before each move; we still can’t park in the garage. Saturday, all that will change. I am on the warpath to clear out the excess.

Note: Books and my collection of every Woody Allen movie released since 1969 are exempt.

If you had to reduce your worldly possessions down to the bare bones, what couldn’t you bear to part with?

The Kindness of Strangers

Jane is gentle and soft spoken with deep sienna eyes and long chestnut hair she pulls up loosely away from her face. She speaks slowly, with a steady determination and she fights for what she believes is right and defends those who can’t defend themselves. She left her job teaching special needs children to stay at home with her newborn daughter six years ago. Once her baby started school, Jane wanted to do something meaningful with her extra time and became a volunteer for the Rocky Mountain Alley Cat Alliance. Her husband is kind, generous and supportive about what she does and her daughter is a bright, loving child with an amazing maturity and sweetness, no doubt learned through her mother’s work.

The RMACA estimates there are over 125,000 feral cats in Denver. Jane is one of the many volunteers who care for colonies of feral cats. Every two to three days, the volunteers visit the colonies to provide the cats with food and water. Feral cats are a breed somewhere between a domesticated cat and a wild animal. Unlike abused or abandoned house cats, feral cats haven’t had human contact so they can never become pets, but unlike truly wild animals, they are dependent on humans for survival. They live outdoors and find shelter where they can. They can usually be found in or near dumpsters foraging for food. Feral cats are frequently emaciated, infested with parasites and diseased. RMACA volunteers trap, spay or neuter and release feral cats year round. Upon capture, the cats are examined, treated for injuries and/or disease, vaccinated and spayed or neutered in mobile clinics by volunteer veterinarians. Cats with feline leukemia or HIV are euthanized to prevent further spread of disease. Fighting among feral and stray cats is common and the blood borne diseases spread through bites and scratches. Jane told me that of 20 cats she trapped one freezing week in January, seven were infected and had to be killed. Her voice quavers, just a little, when she talks about them. Before releasing the newly spayed and neutered cats, the volunteers clip the left ear of each to identify them as feral and neutered.

Some of the cats trapped are tame. They are domesticated cats that have been abandoned and these are often the saddest cases because they aren’t born with the survival skills feral cats have. The RMACA volunteers try to place those animals in foster homes. In Colorado cats don’t go into estrus in the winter months. That notwithstanding, a non-spayed cat will go into heat sometime around March and may have up to three litters of kittens by September.

Jane provides foster care for abandoned cats and finds homes for them. Sometimes, people call her about a stray or abandoned cat to see if she can help and she can rarely say no. She’s careful not to volunteer how many cats she’ll temporarily house because she doesn’t want to be stereotyped a “crazy cat lady”. Nothing could be further from the truth. Jane also works, often over long periods of time to get “cat hoarders” to voluntarily surrender animals for placement in more suitable homes. I asked Jane if all the catch and release work was having a noticeable impact on the feral population. Despite having spayed over 2,000 cats in 2006 she says some days it doesn’t appear to make a difference at all. The cats continue to breed and the colonies continue to grow. It’s hard physical work and it can be dangerous; some of the people Jane and the other RMACA volunteers run into aren’t happy to see them. It’s emotionally difficult. Each time she rescues a cat from a deplorable situation, has to euthanize an animal, or a sick or wounded rescue cat doesn’t make it, it’s painful. She speaks with such tenderness about the animals she rescues and with controlled anger about the humans who so often neglect or abuse them. The stories are hard to hear and it’s harder to comprehend how so many human beings can have so little regard for other living creatures in their care.

I asked Jane what keeps her going and if she ever feels like giving up. Jane told me that there are so many of these animals who need help and so few people to help them that she is certain this is what she was meant to do with her life.

When the snow starts to pile up outside and the temperature drops I think about the cats, and I try not to. And then I think about all the wonderful people like Jane who are out there making sure the homeless animals get food and shelter. I know they can’t save them all, but it gives me comfort to know someone tries. I feel lucky to know Jane and grateful to realize that there is a small, but dedicated army of guardian angels trying to care for these helpless creatures.

Navajo Rugs

Scott often hears from old friends, students, collectors and people who have seen his work through his web site. That’s how we met Wayne and Kerry. Wayne contacted Scott after seeing one of his paintings in a magazine and before long, they started a friendship. We lived in New Hampshire then and Scott and Wayne emailed pretty regularly. Last year after the western sunshine brought us back to Colorado, we had a chance to spend time with Wayne, Kerry and their daughter Katharine at their magical home and studio in Albuquerque.

Fifteen years ago Wayne and Kerry transformed their lives and established a business cleaning, restoring, appraising and buying Navajo Rugs. The restoration work is painstaking and involves intricate weaving to match pieces that are often more than a century old. The dyes must be reproduced and matched using a variety of natural substances. There are very few people in the country who do what Wayne and Kerry do and fewer still who do it as well.

They were relative newlyweds and Wayne was already about 45 when they began their adventure. They were in Indiana with traditional jobs but soon decided to pack their bags and head west where they’d both spent most of their lives. There were a few challenges. Kerry was pregnant, neither of them knew anyone in their destination city of Albuquerque and they had no money.

In Wayne’s words, “Not a whole lot can hold you back when you’re in love and ready to throw yourself to the mercy of fate. Passion, persistence, trust in ourselves and love is all we needed.”

They made the move on a credit card, paid twice the rent they planned to for a place with studio space and hit the road with Kerry pregnant and two dogs in tow. Three days later they arrived to find their new home not quite ready, so they slept on a damp carpet, unloaded the U-Haul and hit the town with their meager portfolio. They picked up a couple of jobs, but they laugh and say they’re sure it was because people took pity on them when they saw Kerry’s growing belly.

They brought their daughter Katharine into the world at home with a midwife a few months later. In those days they didn’t have insurance.

They put a down payment on the house across the street, began renovations and put in a studio. They juggled three mortgages and a handful of credit cards and paid the credit cards off with other credit cards.

Fifteen years later, they’ve got a wonderfully warm home and studio, clients in all fifty states and abroad and a backlog of more than a year’s work. Their clients don’t mind the wait. When Scott and I met Wayne and Kerry it was like spending time with friends we’d known for years. They are artists with generous, creative and loving souls. Their southwest home, originally part of a land grant generations ago, opens to a patio and garden with the scent of flowers in the air, twinkling lights and the occasional roadrunner overhead. They’ve provided safe haven to a miniature donkey, a goat, dogs, a cat and a couple of lop-eared rabbits. Katharine is a beautiful, intelligent and compassionate child and her parents are always there for her.

Was it a lot of risk and work to pursue the dream they created? I’d give that a resounding yes. Was it worth it?

Wayne explains it best. “I have a wife that is even more beautiful than when we met, and most importantly so very, very supportive and loving. We have a beautiful daughter who is compassionate, loving and opening her world as to what can be explored with fun. We still have a mortgage, but only a modest one. We’ve got health insurance, life insurance and have met so many wonderful and interesting people that have made our decision to do what we do the most rewarding choice. Kerry and I have often reflected on that aspect. Sure, what we do and where we do it with regard to our careers is definitely rewarding but the true wealth has been in the meeting of like minds and interests and talent. It has been amazing!! We look back in amazement at how, over the past fifteen years, our lives have been continually enriched by the choices we made. We would like to keep exploring without doubts or the fear of change. Age factors in, as does responsibility for others. But it works when you can put all of that aside. We did it then, we can do it now. Change and new quests are always good for the soul. There is nothing to lose except the hum drum of being in a rut. Dogs are good receptors to let you know if you’re making the right decision.”

I love a story with a happy ending, especially the ones that hint at a sequel.

How Green is That Grass?

The other day a friend asked me if Scott would continue to paint if he won the lotto tomorrow. Scott was having a particularly challenging week painting so the answer this week was a most definite, “I’d never touch a paintbrush again! The first couple of thousand paintings were pretty fun, but after that, not so much.”

Since Scott has been making a living as an artist for well over 20 years, his perspective about painting is quite a bit different than mine is about writing at the moment. While attending to the demands of the job that generates a paycheck, I squeeze in an hour or two here and there to write, and I imagine my fabulous future writing life. I sit down with my morning coffee and blissfully hammer away at my latest masterpiece, full of inspiration and incredible ideas. This vision, I realize is probably about as accurate as the fantasy I had about artists before I knew any personally. The artist of my imagination worked in a big loft, wore a French beret, held a palette in one hand, a brush in the other and had a long cigarette holder clenched in his creative teeth. He worked his emotional furor out on the blank canvas before him and was allowed fits of temper. How this turned into a paycheck never entered my mind.

While Scott has periods where he’s truly inspired, energized and doing the best work of his career, he also has periods where he’s painting commissions that don’t rock his boat or he’s painting a subject he’s no longer passionate about, but is selling and in demand by his galleries. He’s got packing and crating, ordering supplies, website changes, negotiations with galleries, advertising, cleaning brushes and a laundry list of the less glamorous tasks that are all part of making a living as an artist.

During the “up” periods, I’ve asked Scott the same question. Would he still have a desire to paint if he didn’t have to? Then his answer takes on a different slant. “If I didn’t have to depend on painting for my income, I’d probably like to set up an easel in my garden and paint what I see just for my personal enjoyment. I'd paint what I want to paint.”

What’s the difference between the fantasy and the reality? It’s pursuing your passion as a hobby versus having to pay the bills. With creative vocations, people frequently don’t understand the difference. Many times I’ve seen Scott smile and grit his teeth when someone says to him, “gosh I wish I could have your job”, and I imagine working writers might feel the same way.

Maybe that’s one of the benefits of making a career change at the ripe old age of 45 and understanding that it’s all hard work, but working at something you love beats the heck out of working at something you don’t.

Making Our Dreams Real

How many of us in our 40s and 50s don’t spend a large amount of time talking about what we plan to do once…and you can fill in the blank here. I believe we live in a time when we have more options and more possibilities open to us than ever before, but I’ve also noted that the more options we have, the more we agonize about what we want and how to get it.

I want to segue out of my day job and write more of the time than I have the freedom to now. I know a lot of people with clear ideas about what they want to do as soon as the time is right, but what is the event or the change in mindset that has to occur to move us from the somewhat unsatisfying, but secure known to the exciting, but scary unknown?

For every one of us who has dreams but can’t quite figure out how to take the steps to reach them, there are just as many who have managed to do it. Whether the dream is to start a business after taking time off to raise children, restore navajo rugs, paint, write, become a sommelier, start a catering company, run an animal shelter, make jewelry, sculpt, make films, become an environmental activist, live as an expatriate in a sunny locale, we all have dreams.

One theme I hear pretty frequently is that you have to quit planning the path and just do it. If it’s something you truly want, the specifics about how to get there become apparent as you march toward the goal. I’m told that visualization is a powerful tool to help realize what may seem a long and difficult struggle. See yourself doing what it is that you want frequently and make commitments. I try this often and decided to visualize myself at a book signing. I figured I'd keep it modest, so there isn't a long line, but I'm there. I'm scattered with this and have a hard time really focusing on the vision. I frequently get caught up in the details of what I would be wearing, or where the fantasy book store is or what color the cover of the book is and then I'll remember I was supposed to email a quote to a customer yesterday and I'm pulled out of the vision. I wonder how many people use visualization and find it helpful.

Already, as I’ve (quite accidentally) started Eudaemonia, committed to writing a certain number of words each week and found a writing buddy I feel an internal change. I’m more energized, but also more aware that I want to do more writing and the time I spend working my current job is limiting me. I can see that the next huge leap I’ll have to make if I’m going to give this passion the dedication it needs is to leave my job and find something that requires less time and focus, but will reduce my income dramatically.

If you are living your dream, what was the turning point for you to reset your course? How big was the change in lifestyle and income and how did your passion impact your relationships? How long did you plot out the transition and how much time did it take to completely move out of your old life and into the new one?

If you have a dream and you’re not quite there yet, what’s standing in your way? Are there things you need to do to take your dream to the next level, what’s holding you back?

From the Alpha...

I always believed we have some notion of who or what we're meant to be from the time we're eight or nine. A few people stay the course and they become that person. Most of us stray from the path, sometimes due to bad choices but most often because of fear and the need for security. Every once in a great while, we find the path again.

My husband, the person I admire more than anyone I know is a fine artist, but he didn't start painting until he was 29. He struggled for many years while he learned his craft, worked more jobs than I could ever imagine possible and did without for many years until he could support himself with his art. He never gave up.

We have some friends who are artists and until a few years ago had "normal" jobs, but gave the steady income up to live the modest life they now have. She told me recently they are the proverbial starving artists, but she wouldn't give up the life she has now for anything in the world.

Another friend works with a rescue organization that catches, spays and releases feral cats in Denver. They find homes for the domestic cats they find abandoned and abused and she goes out and feeds and cares for these animals. She told me it's what she was meant to do.

Another couple we know had day jobs, but she's a painter and a writer so they started a fine art framing business on the side. After more than a year of hard work, he left his job to frame full time and she's cut back her hours and will soon be able to quit and do the things she's passionate about.

People do it and they do it all the time. I wanted to write and did, for as long as I can remember; me and a million other people. It wasn't until a few months ago that I thought maybe I could get back on my path. I started stealing time here and there to supplement my journaling with short stories and story ideas. I have a good job and make a good living, but I've watched Scott paint and create day after day, and he works very hard at it. I want what he has and what all of the people I've mentioned have. The yearning to do something I feel passionate about has overcome my fear of failure and financial insecurity (OK that's a lie. I'll never get over my fear of living in poverty again). We talk often now about my transition from the corporate life to that of a writer. How much should we have saved? How far can we pay the mortgage down? Should we get rid of HBO? I'll still have to work, but maybe part-time doing something that doesn't follow me home. I'm a realist and I know it's a longshot I'll be successful and we'll have to "downsize" and make sacrifices, but it's worth it. It's what I love and giving it my best shot and failing is preferable to never trying at all. I've made commitments to get our lives in order and to allow more time to write and this blog is part of that.

I'm hoping to connect with others who are daring to dream of pursuing whatever it is they are meant to be. I'd like to share thoughts and ideas with people who want to make a major life change and to find inspiration from people who've done it. I have a lot of challenges ahead of me, but I have a whole new level of energy and optimism now that I've gone from "I wish" to "I will".