The House is Empty Without Zen

When I moved to this beautiful house share, one of the unexpected benefits was a serene, older black and white cat named Zen. We bonded quickly and I soon asked if I could take over as the designated feeder. My housemate also has a German Shepherd named Tasha who keeps her busy.

Zen had a thyroid tumor so I ground up a pill twice a day and stirred it into her food. She was a finicky eater, so I sometimes drizzled tuna juice over the prescription cat food we bought at the vet's for her. I discovered that she liked to have me stand over her to watch her eat. If I walked away, she walked away from the bowl. I wanted her to eat ... so I started a daily meditation by the food dish. Sometimes I sat at the breakfast table with my morning paper when I thought she was finished, but if she still wanted food, she came over and tapped me on the arm with her paw. Persistently. This was the only time she tapped so I knew it was about food. She often was waiting at my door in the morning if I didn't get up early enough to feed her.

The other challenge with feeding Zen was that Tasha very much liked her food. Well, she likes any food. But she would quickly gulp the cat food down if Zen walked away for a minute. I resorted to building a barricade out of chairs when Zen was at her eating post. She started eating less and less and her stuffy nose became chronic and seemed to kill her appetite, so we took her to the vet to see if something could be done for her. The vet discovered another tumor, and this one seemed to be growing. Feeding became even more of a meditation. Then one day, she stopped eating altogether and we knew the end was coming.

By now she was spending most of her time in a basket with a heating pad and that seemed to bring her some comfort. Her owner and I agreed that she was in pain and wasn't getting better and it was time to put her to sleep. The vet had already advised this. We took her on a Saturday afternoon, wrapped in her favorite blanket. She was quiet and seemed to almost know something was happening. We had all spent quiet time saying goodbye to her but it was wrenching as we sat holding her in the waiting room.

When we came home, the house felt very empty. Her quiet spirit was gone, but I kept looking for her under the table, in her favorite chair and in the basket before I remembered. I still miss her and I'm grateful that my housemate was willing to share this sweet creature with me for our short time together.

Opting Out of Catalog Mail

When I was in my 30s, I lived a very different life than I am living now. I had two small children, a husband who worked in his family's insurance company and I belonged to a country club. It's hard for me to imagine today. One of the activities the country club moms engaged in while watching the kids in the swimming pool was to thumb through catalogs. I lived in a small town in Illinois and going to the city meant a long drive to Chicago, a city that overwhelmed me with its traffic and so many people.

Today my city is San Francisco, my kids are grown and happy, my new husband (of 28 years) is a former journalist, fervent feminist, college basketball fanatic and good cook. We wouldn't think of belonging to a country club. We're into voluntary simplicity. And as an organizer, I help people get rid of those ubiquitous catalogs that keep coming. (Visit catalogchoice.org to opt out of as many as you'd like at one time. It's a joint project of environmental organizations that include the Ecology Center in Berkeley.)

I was fantasizing about what a catalog might offer if it wasn't trying to seduce us into buying things we don't need, spending money we don't have and feeling badly about ourselves if we don't have all the stuff on those glossy pages. I don't think we realize how much we are affected by the bombardment of advertising. I was on the way to pick up my husband at work for a home-cooked meal when I heard one phrase on the radio -- Big Vinnie -- and the car detoured itself to Round Table for a pepperoni pizza. Honestly. I know that shows lack of control on my part, but it also illustrates the strength of branding on our purchasing habits. Can you see a red circle and not think of Target?

Anyway, I would love a catalog that offers free classes for boomers to increase the plasticity of their brains. Classes like "How to Play the Ukelele," "How to Learn to Juggle," "How to Figure Out How to Set Up the DVD/Fax/Scanner etc," "How to Keep Up with the Latest Trends on the Internet," "How to Find Old Friends," "How to Trace Your Ancestors," "How to Read Music," "How to Solve the Homeless Problem," or health or peace or planet problem. You get the idea. On the bright side, I just successfully completed my first Sudoku puzzle in the Chronicle. Right after I did the crossword puzzle. Thursday's my favorite right now.

Possibly with the growth of the Internet, catalogs will become a thing of the past, just like my country club days. Newspapers are certainly going that way. Young people mostly get their news from the Internet and I think it's only those of us who have the newspaper habit who still cling to that format. Things are changing and I need to be resiliant and embrace the changes. But I think I'll stick to my Chronicle crossword puzzle awhile longer.

Reasons to Get Organized Now

This is the first blog of the new year and I'm thinking of good reasons to get organized now. For one, there's the safety issue. If things have gotten a little out of control, getting organized will reduce risks for falls, will help eliminate germs and make it easier to find your exercise gear.

According to an article in the New York Times, many people think getting organized means buying the right storage containers, when the reality is that what is needed is to change your behavior. Some of the issues that contribute to the difficulty of getting organized include grief, chronic pain and depression. Some people even find it painful to part with any of their possessions. This can happen when people don't discriminate among their possessions but see them all as unique and a treasure. Sometimes they need help learning how to group, set priorities and discard to create a more harmonious space.

Peter Walsh, author of It's All Too Much, recommends playing the two bag tango game. Every day, fill one trash bag with trash and one with things to give away or sell. (And put out the trash and give away the items!) This is a gradual way to create more space and get more used to letting go of some things. Walsh recommends starting by getting a vision of how you want your home to look and then ask yourself, "Does this contribute to my vision or detract from it?"

I just worked with my daughter to create more order in her home and we had success by dividing the project up into zones -- top dresser drawer in her bedroom, junk drawer in the kitchen, bookshelves in the living room ... you get the picture. We tackled the projects one by one and she was much less overwhelmed and got more done than she expected to in one session.

So getting organized can lead to a safer, more comfortable environment and one where you will be free to pursue those creative projects you might not have had the energy to pursue while distracted by clutter.

Counting My Blessings

There's a list somewhere of the things Ghandi possessed when he died. I've found different accounts but some of the items include a pair of glasses, a bowl, a book, sandals, a simple piece of clothing ... Something like seven things. I look around my apartment and realize that while I've downsized considerably I have quite a few more than that.

For example, three phones, one landline and two cell phones (one is my husband's). One computer, one printer, one TV, one birdcage, two birds, three lamps and a string of clear pinecone Christmas lights, two rugs (one a trade for an organizing job I did), a new desk purchased at trendy West Elm which I admit I love, a sofa, two library chairs purchased at Uhuru, a small altar table my son gave me which now serves as coffee table, comfortable bed and two bedside tables purchased at a consignment shop on our return from Peace Corps.

A simple oak dresser that was put out by a neighbor with a FREE sign. Several treasured paintings, a closet lightly filled with mostly thrift store clothes and expensive, comfortable shoes. Books. Art supplies, a box of files, photos. Nothing in storage. I've shed many things over the years, given away, sold, donated. And things keep coming in. But I find that the less I have, the more I value it.

Feeling Combobulated

I woke up feeling combobulated this morning. Then I wondered if that is really a word. I found it on Urban Dictionary and it means what you would think it means. The opposite of discombobulated or pulling it together. The reasons I'm feeling combobulated at the present moment, despite advertisers attempts to pull me into the vortex of consume, consume, consume, is that I got all my Christmas gifts in one place, a cozy bookstore, in one afternoon. I just wandered and perused and browsed and doubled back and did it all over again until I found gifts for the few family members that we exchange with. (We just share cards with the family that lives far away.) With patience and persistence, I found the perfect book or CD for each one.

Then I wrapped them in paintings I had done in a recent art class. We used tempera paints and heavy white paper to create colorful expressions of what we were feeling in the moment without worrying about the finished product. They looked different cut up into sections and each one seemed to match the gift. It contributed to my feeling of non-attachment and passing things along.

I have tried to keep my time in the stores to a minimum but a few purchases have added to my feeling of combobulation. Yesterday I made one stop and did some banking, bought gingerbread men to take to a friend's house for lunch and a new "double-wide perch" for the outside of my parakeets' cage. An early Christmas gift for Pie and Apple.

Last weekend we went to a holiday party at a neighborhood Bed and Breakfast we discovered for visiting friends. The owner has a two story aviary filled with 400 birds of varying kinds. He has parrots, parakeets, finches and lovebirds. I tried to imagine Pie and Apple among that flock. People were crammed into the perfectly decorated home and we squeezed past the harpist to get to the heavily laden dining room table. The host had prepared his special mushroom soup which he served in mugs. There was wine and eggnog and lots of birdsong.

At our son's Christmas party last night, there were his neighbors, co-workers and our grandsons alternately watching a DVD and consuming way too much sugar. Then they would fling themselves into our arms and drag us into their room to play. There's all kinds of ways to celebrate the holidays but being with family, particularly children, is undoubtedly one of the best.

Simplifying the Holidays

Some tips from the Center for a New American Dream (www.newdream.org) around the holidays.

Have a cookie swap. Six friends who each make six dozen of the same kind of cookie can meet for coffee and go home with a dozen of each kind.

Frame a picture of the family home. Send it to distant friends and relatives who can't make it home this year.

Take a friend off junk mail. Generate automatic forms with your recipient's name and address at www.newdream.org/junkmail to reduce unwanted mail by 50%. Present the forms in stamped, addressed envelopes ready to sign and mail.

Make an emergency kit for the car. Create a gift basket with a blanket, flashlight, gas can, jumper cables and flares.

Make a donation in someone's name. Heifer International is one great recipient. Buy a village a goat!

Give the gift of reconnection. Call an estranged friend or write a letter to someone you haven't seen in a few years.

Share the love of reading. Give away the last great book you bought and enjoyed to someone who shares your taste.

Storytelling is a powerful way to preserve family memories, especially if you exaggerate a few details for posterity.

Designate an amount of money to donate and let your kids pick the charity.

Give a gift of kindness: shovel snow for an elderly neighbor, leave potted flowers or herbs anonymously on a friend's doorstep, clean the cat box without being asked!

Scaling back at the holidays takes an extra effort at first, but it can be deeply rewarding, leaving more time for friends, faith or just some self-care.

Housesharing Means Turning Around Sometimes

Housesharing has many advantages and in the Bay Area it can mean the difference between staying and moving to Keokuk, Iowa, or Asheville, NC. We moved to a house in the Oakland Hills in August and we've gained so much in comparison to the small loss of space and privacy. We moved from a one-bedroom apartment overlooking Lake Merritt to a smaller one-bedroom space where we share the kitchen in the house. The good thing about it is the kitchen has a beautiful commercial stove and refrigerator and a view of the Golden Gate and Bay Bridges. Last night the turquoise and burgundy sky at sunset was spectacular.

Other things we have gained include a dog named Tasha whose ability to "talk" comes from her mother, who is part wolf. Then there's the black and white cat, Zen, who I have taken to feeding and giving her thyroid pill twice daily. She now sleeps in a leopard cat bed I bought her on the landing between our two floors. There's a constant dance between Zen and Tasha, who wants to eat Zen's food and any other food for that matter that makes its way to the floor. Zen is a slow eater and she likes me to be standing by as she eats. A new form of meditation.

We have a deck off our space where we hang clothes to dry and admire the ever-changing view. We're raising some plants given to us by our housemate.

Last night the furnace went on as we were falling asleep. The problem is, the vent is right over our heads and when we try to close it, it sounds like a train roaring through a tunnel. Our place gets warm much more quickly than upstairs so we needed to adapt to the situation. We finally decided to just put our pillows at the bottom of the bed and sleep the other way. This is a lesson I have been learning from more left-brain thinkers. If something isn't working the way I'm doing it, try another way. It's amazing how many times I do that thing author Rita Brown says: "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

This doing it a different way worked for me recently when I was helping a friend reframe a picture. And when I figured out the problem with my Tivo. It makes me feel much more competent and less flakey when I persist and figure something out that used to baffle me. And it's often so simple. If I'm turning it to the right, turn it to the left. If I'm plugging it in here, plug it in there. I'm also learning that there's more than one right way to do things. My way isn't always right. In fact, one of the most helpful phrases for me when I'm hearing something that triggers me is, "You might be right." And believing it.