The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

The most clever thing I saw this weekend…

You’re familiar with the ice cream truck, right? Well, in a river city it just makes good business sense to get yourself an ice cream boat. Easy money on a hot day at a crowded beach. This cheered me no end. I always seem to learn something useful from visiting the river. More →

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: someday I’ll come up with a system that stands up to the common cold. Someday soon.

Being self-employed, I get sick far less often than when I went to an office every day (this one was courtesy of the germs my sweetheart brought home from his office) – but it still happens. And it always lasts longer and takes more out of me than I think a silly little cold will or should.

It’s not so much feeling drained as feeling so very stupid with congestion that makes doing anything so impossible.

All one can do is rest.

It’s the only way out, but it’s boring. It’s annoying. And it’s nothing like unplugging.

Now that I’m my own boss, calling in sick isn’t the thrill it used to be. Despite aches and sniffles, as an employee, it still felt a little like playing hooky. The sleep, the quiet, the soup and snacks, the Perry Mason reruns in the middle of the day… it was all deliciously rare self-care.

But now, that self-care – thankfully – is much less rare. I like my job a lot more and I have much more control in when and how I do it, so there’s less thrill in stepping away from work.

Things are better. Which makes having a cold that much more of a drag. All I can think about is how much I’m missing out on – plugged or unplugged.

So, thank goodness that’s over. That stupid little virus was turning me into a complete cranky-pants.

And I’m going to make up for it next weekend with extra-special unplugging.

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Sometimes you’re all over the unplugging, but your muse won’t leave you alone.

I’m not talking about those times when you unplug so you can hear your muse, I’m talking about those times when your biggest aim for the day is a late breakfast involving bacon followed by napping and some extreme puttering.

I would have been very happy with the latter this weekend, but no. Last week I gave myself permission to do one thing I wanted (but felt I shouldn’t) and it was like my muse said, “Fantastic! Finally. Because if you do that, then we can think about doing this, and this, and this – oh, and this. It’s going to be awesome! Aren’t I the best muse ever?”

I love her. I do. I love getting high on new ideas. And I’ll gladly take them when they come.

But when they come during what was supposed to be downtime, it’s important to remember I have a flexible schedule that allows me to still get that needed downtime once the rush of ideas runs its course (as it always does – there’s an ebb and flow to these things). If I’m smart enough to take it.

The danger of barreling along as though I just had two days off from thinking about anything more complicated that whether to take the dog for a walk or a swim, when I didn’t, is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.

Hanging out with my muse is exhilarating, but just because it’s fun and easy doesn’t mean it’s not depleting in its own way.

Yep, I’ll be sneaking some R&R into this week. Starting with a nap right now…

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Last weekend’s unplugging actually started about noon Friday when I realized even if the week wasn’t done, I was.

I quite spontaneously decided what my week needed was a little trip to the spa. So, after running a couple errands, I took my tired self out for a foot soak and arm massage. It was a transformative half hour. Which I followed with happy hour at the local pub and take-out for a quiet, relaxing dinner with my sweetheart. I felt so guiltily indulgent at the outset, but it was exactly what I needed and beautifully set the tone for the entire weekend. Highly recommended (not specifically a spa treatment, happy hour, or take-out – just the doing what you need part).

Really, I would stop this post here – that being the only part with a point to share – except then I would have to leave out my rant on movie theaters, which came at the very end and I really need to get off my chest. So, here’s what happened after that…

Saturday began with the traditional visit to a river beach with my sweetheart and Max the Dog – with my usual latte and my sweetheart’s less-than-usual hamburger for breakfast (in his world breakfast for breakfast is good, but dinner for breakfast is better – usually in the form of fried chicken). It was a gorgeous morning of walking and stick tossing. And, apparently, finding yummy garbage in the bushes – poor Max was later rather sick in the middle of the night. I love this tradition (minus dog vomit, of course) – the weekend isn’t quite right without it.

Then we headed to the farmers market. Beans. Corn. Strawberries. Peaches. Buckwheat crepes with bacon. Spicy sausages. Excellent folk trio. And lots of people celebrating a summer’s day through life’s simple pleasures. The theme for August at the Maintenance Department is “Just BE,” so I’ve been thinking a lot about the difference between being and doing – there was a lot being happening at the market. This, I thought, is what being looks like.

Next thing I remember after returning home is the three of us napping in the cool basement.  Huh. Wonder what we did in the meantime. I guess I really did unplug…

Then I did a little laundry. And had the recollection that it’s tricky to unplug when you don’t give yourself fun stuff to do. So I cleaned out my puttering basket which had gotten to be, well, let’s say less than supportive.

Somehow that led to actual puttering in the form of going through old magazines, tearing out images I could use for collages while listening to Patricia Barber, Ricki Lee Jones, Joni Mitchell and Norah Jones – then tossing the rest into the recycling bin. It was a remarkably satisfying way to spend a quiet afternoon. Ahh.

Suddenly it was time for dinner made from our market goods. And an even more laid back evening of tv I had recorded to watch later. Exactly what shows I don’t recall, which I’m again taking as a sign of unplugging in a good rather than bad way.

Then Sunday. Me: coffee and the newspaper. Him: dog walking and the junkyard. Me: the annual washing of the living room rug (the victim of the dog’s illness) – a big slung-over-the-fence-to-be-hosed-down-with-soap-and-water affair that requires hot weather. Him: replacing his truck bench. Me: weeding and watering a thirsty garden (the tomatoes are coming! and the blackberries!). Him: realizing his new bench won’t fit and putting the old one back (bummer). Both of us: by noon, realizing the dog has it right and we should be resting in the cool indoors.

After a break, it then seemed like a good idea to beat the heat by going to a matinee. Our movie of choice was playing at a downtown theater. We tried to remember the last time we had gone to see a movie in a downtown theater (a diverting novelty!). Well, folks, there was a reason for that…

Nearly a day later, I still can’t stop laughing about the prices. The concession stand alone is hilariously absurd. (This, I thought, is why Americans are broke.) Even the vending machine in the restroom selling tampons, ibuprofen, two flavors of lip gloss and candy cracked me up. Not so much the endless commercials (I’m not talking about movie previews, but the same commercials one sees watching tv). And the people who expect their much-too-small-children to be quiet and content for more than an hour.

Was it a good film? Well, mostly (even if it was a bit out of focus). But it hardly mattered after a certain point. We were so discombobulated by the whole downtown/parking/mall/theater experience that it would have taken some genius storytelling to lift us out of that. And our chosen film was not that brilliant.

[ The best part of our excursion may have been – while killing time waiting for the movie to start – poking around in a store where I used to work more than fifteen years ago. They still sell fabulous stuff, but what surprised me the most was how many artists I recognized – a discovery that means those craftspeople are still making a living doing what they love two decades later. This cheers me no end. You can do this thing without starving. ]

Lastly, when we got back to the car we realized we had lost our parking ticket. Thankfully, they have ways of handling such things that didn’t require payment of our remaining arms and legs. Otherwise it really would have been the proverbial last straw.

Even so, we’re not going back any time soon. Wonderful Neighborhood Theater, we love you and we’re never ever cheating on you ever ever again. And we promise to visit more often.

• • • • •

How do you set the tone for your weekends?
How would giving yourself what you need change the quality of your unplugging?
What are your traditions that make your weekend, the weekend?
Where do you find opportunities to be rather than do?
What’s in your puttering basket?
Who’s on your weekend playlist?
What adventures have you had lately that taught you what not to do to unplug?

How did you unplug this weekend?

• • • • •

It’s Monday – time for the latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

I’m tempted to say the key to unplugging during the weekend is to get your dog to let you sleep an hour later – both days. Except I have no idea how we did that. I cannot explain it, nor could I repeat it – let alone tell you how to do the same with your own domesticated animals. All I know is it was pretty blissful.

What I do know for sure that is explainable and repeatable: staying off the computer is key. At least for me. To unplug, I truly have to unplug.

That limits my input to the Sunday newspaper – more likely just the Living and Travel sections since the everything else but the comics tends to be full of doom and gloom – but that’s okay.

I loved reading about the spaces where local artists work. It’s so interesting what different people need to be their most creative. And I learned about letterboxing, which sounds like a fantastic way to unplug.

I was also reminded by the visit of a family member from the opposite coast how much fun it is to be a tourist in your own region. To do all that cool (sometimes corny, but who cares?) stuff you never even think to do. It’s not off the beaten path, but it’s probably of your beaten path – which makes it refreshing. And you might just come to love your home that much more.

I’m compiling a list of must-sees for myself. Because treating your weekend like a vacation away from home (even when you’re not) is a great way to unplug.

• • • • •

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Sometimes, as much as you try to honor your sabbath, you can’t unplug.

There’s stuff going on. Social engagements. Appointments that can’t be scheduled on other days. Your boss (whether that’s you or someone else) insists on overtime. An anxious part of your mind simply won’t let you stop already.

I had three out of four of those going on this weekend. Actually, it was the second weekend in a row like that – and I’m feeling it.

How I am missing my sabbath.

But instead of beating myself up about my lack of commitment, poor planning, etc. – I’m choosing to notice what happens when I don’t find ways to unplug.

#%@^$&*!!
Having used up my reserves, I was left with almost nothing in the way of patience and understanding. Everything was annoying.

Sigh.
And the ennui! I felt like a kid moping about the house whining about how there’s nothing to doooo. Like it’s possible to be bored on a summer day.

Oof.
Everything was also exhausting. Ordinarily small tasks felt overwhelming. There was motion, but nothing was happening – least of all anything fun.

In truth, I had something of a sabbath. I kept trying to unplug and do nice things to take care of myself between other obligations. There was the making of an experimental pie. Some gardening. A little napping. And while that was better than nothing, it didn’t really do the trick. Overall, the combination of irritation, boredom and exhaustion led to less than restorative choices. (I could probably write a whole post just about how that combination led me to the foods I chose to eat.)

You’d think that, when you are tired, unplugging would be the easiest thing in the world. But one’s weekday activities create a certain momentum. You know: a body in motion will remain in motion unless acted on my another force.

And so I am reminded once again why we need transitions and rituals – actions that help us gently change our direction without feeling jerked out of our sockets. Actions that allow the anxiously productive parts of ourselves to feel safe about taking a break.

Because if I had felt safe…

• Little upsets would have been much less of a threat – and therefore I would have been less crabby about everything.

• I would have been able to hear and follow my inner voice of play without all the whiny drama.

• I wouldn’t have felt the need to be in motion. Who cares if anything is happening? Let’s take another nap.

If I had felt safe, I would have been able to rest – in whatever form that took – even between the other stuff going on.

Note to self: This Friday, do not skip doing what you know creates safety. Because Monday mornings are a big drag when you are this depleted.

What helps you feel safe enough to unplug?

• • • • •

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

seen

An older (well, than me) couple playing chinese checkers at the coffee house while they sipped and snacked on their morning drinks and pastries. I want to be them when I grow up.

heard

Our neighbor practicing guitar while I planted tomatoes. Think Louie Louie – only quieter and much better.

tasted

Yummy little round slices of french bread – perfectly toasted – with hummus. It’s been months since I’ve indulged in that much gluten-y, yeast-y goodness – totally worth it.

smelled

The stank of winter debris pulled from the pond. Followed by the calming trickle of the fountain turned on again for summer. Fabeku says we love such things because they remind us of flow (the trickle, not the stank).

felt

The wind. I love it when the trees speak ocean.

thought

Tried not to. And mostly succeeded.

• • • • •

What did you see, hear, taste, smell or touch this weekend? How did you unplug?

• • • • •

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

It finally stopped raining. And we made the most of it. A short photo essay.

The garden even told me it loved me when I unearthed this little plastic charm.

And on Sunday – when the rain resumed – we did a lot of napping.

It was glorious.

• • • • •

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

On Saturday, I participated in Jen Hofmann’s Office Spa Day – which was such a treat. Wow is my office looking spiffy as a result. (I realize cleaning may not sound like unplugging, but unplugging isn’t always about resting – there are other forms of refreshment and decluttering is one of them.)

Before breaking to clean, Jen had everyone do a lovely little guided visualization and during it I realized that what I wanted for Monday morning was for my desk and the space around it to be clear and up-to-date. Even though I’d really like The Pile to be gone, it’s behind me. What I most wanted, what I knew I would most benefit from, was to deal with what was in front of me.

So I began working from what I call my Circles of Influence. Basically, the idea is to simply start from the spot where you spend the most time – in this instance, where I sit in my chair – and deal with what is within immediate view or arm’s reach. Once that’s done, then clear a little farther beyond that – more to the left or right, above or below. And so forth, in ever wider concentric circles (spheres would be more accurate) until the entire space is clear.

It was really tempted to start with the neglected corners. I really wanted to work on The Pile – and while removing will have a payoff, it’s not the same immediate boost as having the space in front of me clutter free.

So I stuck with my circles.

• sticky notes were removed from the computer and telephone – then both were dusted
• I removed years-old odds and ends from my bulletin board
• I filed all the papers on my desk
• I sorted through my little bin of office supplies – tossing dry pens and whatnot (I even found my social security card where it really didn’t belong)
• more dusting
• moving outward, I cleared the shelf above my desk – meaning I could move some binders off my desk
• I then organized the bookshelf to my left, filling my recycling bin in the process
• more dusting
• turning around, I then gave my attention to The Pile – which is smaller (yay!) and will (scout’s honor) be gone by the end of the month

It feels so much better to “come to work” now. More than space, there is possibility. More than room for good new things, there is room for action.

For example: making art. Because my office is – with a swivel of my chair – also my studio. And I made something yesterday. I crafted it up all day long. I haven’t done that in ages and it felt really great to play that way. (And I like how the project turned out to boot – always a plus.)

The vibe in my workspace is different today. It’s new and refreshed. Not only because I removed old and useless physical reminders of the past, but because I created a pleasurable and gratifying new memory of what happens in this space.

As I write this, the sun is shining through the window and I’m happy to be here. Sigh. Yay for Office Spa Day (and thanks Jen).

The latest installment in an occasional series: how I unplugged over the weekend.

Technically speaking, this is how I unplugged the weekend before last. So, even though it’s not completely fresh, it is a useful thing to be able to pull out of one’s back pocket that seems worth sharing.

As you may know, February was rough. And my sweetheart and I have learned the hard way that you if marinate in the ick too long you just get mired in its sticky mess, and it takes that much longer to get yourself unstuck.

So… since the 20th was a gorgeous clear-blue-sky day, we were inspired to travel the Anti-Crisis Loop.* I never thought of this favorite day-trip as such, but this time I realized we only take it when Things Are Too Much. And it always makes things better.

The same principle is at work here as going on a retreat: traveling to a different vantage point to regain perspective.

But that doesn’t mean you have to travel far. Just getting out of your house to a coffee shop or park in your neighborhood may be enough (but perhaps not the favorite one you always go to – we’re trying to get out of our usual ruts and routines here). Someplace with a vista is helpful. I also rather like there to be water. Not too noisy or busy. Good smells are nice – those of nature, or perhaps baked goods. Outdoors works better for me, but I could see how indoor spaces could be useful too – say, an art museum (with its vista of history and creativity).

Oh, and no agenda. The Anti-Crisis Loop is about spontaneity – not planning or problem solving. Goodness knows your crisis is demanding plenty of that from you – and this is about taking a break from it.

The Anti-Crisis Loop is a companion to the Puttering Basket. And just as your Puttering Basket is more effective when stocked before the weekend, your Anti-Crisis Loop will serve you better if you know what it is before you need it. You don’t want to be planning a road-trip when you are totally overwhelmed – you want to make it as easy as possible to just GO.

Which includes making peace with that part of you that feels you should stay on work on your crisis and giving yourself permission to press the pause button.

To create your own Anti-Crisis Loop:

1. choose an itinerary for a quick restorative getaway
2. give yourself a permission slip to take it when you need it
3. learn to recognize sooner rather than later when that is

That last one is important. An Emergency Anti-Crisis Loop is better than none, but it’s better not to let things get to that point (see above reference to longer time-frame for unsticking from the mess). Know the signs of Too Much – exhaustion, worry, resentment, confusion. When they show up, leave them behind for a day.

Chances are, they won’t be waiting for you when you get back.

* Locals, here’s the loop: From Portland, take US-30W to Westport. Hop on the ferry for a short ride across the river to Cathlamet, Washington (my favorite part). Travel west on WA-4/401, then cross the river back to the Oregon side to Astoria. If you are hungry, stop at Gunderson’s Cannery Cafe. Then proceed south on US-101 to Gearhart and Cannon Beach making sure to stop and enjoy the vast perspective-restoring beauty of the ocean before returning to Portland via US-26. Oh, and give your dog every opportunity to swim along the way.

• • • • •