Gum on My Shoe

Our friends — how distant, how mute, how seldom visited and little known. And I, too, am dim to my friends and unknown; a phantom, sometimes seen, often not. Life is a dream surely. — Virginia Woolf, The Waves As we shared in a recent blog post, Fran and I have been looking into end of life planning. I’m particularly interested in legacy work, which focuses on what we wish to leave behind. It can include physical items, but also writing, photographs, videos, and more. In the words of end of life doula Leona Oceania of Die Well Death Education, “legacy work is perhaps one of the greatest gifts you can provide to your friends, family, and loved ones.” Fran and I were talking recently about her mother who is in her nineties. She commented that she knew her mom “maybe 10 percent.” This caught my attention. “Legacy work,” I ventured, “is so the people we leave behind will know more than 10 percent.” Fran asked how much I knew her. I thought a moment before answering. “It depends ...

But what counted was how you behaved while death let you live, and how you met death when life released you. — Edith Pearlman It’s hard to imagine anything more personal than our relationship to death, yet few of us give it more than a passing thought. I’ve mourned those I’ve lost, but until recently I’d scarcely considered what death itself means to me, how I wish to approach mine, or what legacy I’d like to leave. I was eighteen years old when my father died. Everything was handled by my mother and other family members. I remember his cremation service, the coffin retreating behind the velour curtain, but my contribution was limited to choosing a few words to go on the order of service. (“How sad the song.”) My mother died in 2018 at the age of ninety-eight. I played no part in the funeral arrangements, the sale of her house, or the execution of her will despite being a named executor and beneficiary. I was content, relieved even, to leave it to others. It means, though,...

This post was inspired by a recent conversation with Fran. It happened a few days before she set off on a weekend trip with folk from MOAC (Maine Outdoor Adventure Club). Fran had attended several of their events in the past but this was to be her first trip away with the group. She was feeling a little anxious. I reminded her it's natural to have some anxiety when you're about to do something different. How the anxiety is a strategy your mind and body employ to protect you, perhaps as a result of past dissapointments. If you worry about something in advance and what you are worried about happens, you're prepared. You get to say, "See — I knew it." If what you were worried about doesn't happen, you get to feel relieved and pleasantly surprised. It's not a particularly healthy way of approaching things and it burns a lot of emotional energy, but it's understandable and far more common than we imagine. I reassured her that it was okay to feel what sh...

Organised by the World Federation for Mental Health, World Mental Health Day is celebrated each year on October 10. The theme for 2024 is “It is time to prioritize mental health in the workplace.” Rather than writing generically about the topic, I’d like to share some experiences from my working life over the past four decades. A few weeks ago on social media I came across a New Yorker cartoon by Kendra Allenby. The cartoon shows a boss talking to an employee about a promotion. “At this point in your career,” he says, “your only possible promotion is to management, where you will stop doing the work you love and use a skill set you don’t have and we don’t teach.” It hit hard and I shared it on, with the status “Been feeling this one a lot lately.” A friend and colleague replied that he’d felt the same, and had to take a leap “into the great unknown.” That’s a really positive response to career stagnation and I wish him well. It’s not one I’m motivated to take, however. At the ...

Check out our top posts for the past month. Posts are listed by the number of page views they attracted during the month, most popular first. It’s Not Enough / Never Enough The Box on the Shelf: A Strategy for Handling Difficult Issues and Situations Shhhhhhh! A Friend’s Guide to Secrets One Must Imagine Sisyphus Happy: Encounters With the Absurd Man I’m Weak and What’s Wrong With That? It’s Time to Talk. But What If You Don’t Want To? I’m on My Way: Thoughts Inspired by Ed Sheeran’s “Castle on the Hill” Thank You Anyway: The Gift of Ingratitude I Hope We All Make It IMHO: A Guide for Opinionated Bloggers Our most visited pages were: Contact Us Resources Our books About Us News and Appearances Testimonials   Photo by Katie Moum at Unsplash.  

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them. — Laurence Binyon. “For the Fallen.” Fran and I have shared a great many adventures, trips, and experiences in our thirteen years as friends. Few have been as moving as accompanying her to the recent Twilight in the Park event in Fran’s home city of Portland, Maine. Organised by the Hospice of Southern Maine, Twilight in the Park is a community event to remember and celebrate loved ones who have died, and their families, friends, and caregivers. This year’s event was held on Saturday September 29 in Deering Oaks Park. Fran was keen to attend, and took me with her virtually by video call. The following details are from the hospice website. Imagine thousands of luminarias glowing warmly at dusk, each light representing someone who has brought love and light into our lives. At Twilight, thousands of luminari...