So now I’m catching up on the multitudes of tasks that have fallen by the wayside while I immersed in this book.  Catching up on email from readers (please be patient with me if you emailed and I haven’t yet responded–I answer them all myself and it takes time, but I will get to every single one of them), catching up on blogs, catching up with friends I haven’t seen in a couple of months.   Walking. Studying Spanish.  Reading. Dancing.

What I’m really doing most of the time is packing and repacking in my head.  My goal is to make it through England and Spain, four weeks, with one carry-on and a backpack.  So, no more than two pairs of shoes.  One fleece and one turtleneck and one rainjacket.  A dress that packs very well, some leggings, and scarves to accessorize.   I’ll let you know how it goes.

I’ve been walking many miles every week, aiming for at least 30, and only making that rarely.  This week, I had the exuberant pleasure of dancing with Carlos AyaRosas, one of the founders of Nia, who is retiring this year.  Under other circumstances, I would have cut back on the dancing to give my body a chance to adjust to the extra walking miles, but how could I forgo that chance?  No way!

It was deliciously exhilarating! Carlos is a very physical dancer, and a great teacher, with an entirely different style than our (beloved) Loretta Milo.  The workshop was two hours and we danced our heads off–the kind of dancing that makes you forget everything and sweat away all stress and fill up entirely with joy.  I have been faithfully attending at least one, and sometimes three, classes a week since I began eighteen months ago. I always learn something new about my body or the music or how to count something that had eluded me before, but dancing with Carlos and his wife, who looks like she might be half-fey, coming out of the trees just to teach us to dance, and having the pleasure of watching Loretta and some of the other black belts lose themselves in the dance was…pure flame, pure notes, pure love.  I wish you could all have been there with me.

Have you ever tried something new that ran away with your heart?

If you are like me, you are thinking Lee’s Summit is a backwater and you won’t find anything to your liking. I used to come through here on the train on the way to St Louis, pausing at a station that is, as a matter of fact, right across the street from where I now sit. In those days, I would see the Main Street with its hardware store and think …eh.

But this afternoon, in the rain, I have found a beautiful amber bracelet to celebrate the Girls In The Basement. I found it in a shop with fair trade goods run by a woman from southern California (the mosaic is in the sidewalk in front of her shop on Third Street). From a wine shop run by four women who must have been sisters with their matching platinum hair and robust figures, I purchased a local bottle of Pinot Noir (brewed right here!).

I really have not been afoot enough lately, and will have to work in some small trips somehow, despite my rather full schedule.  Ambling around in the world restores and renews me as nothing else can.

Now I have had an exquisite meal of chicken canneloni. I am one of three customers at the restaurant, because it is obscenely early, and it really is pouring outside.  The other two customers are a male couple with white hair, splitting a spaghetti plate. My coffee is here and I’m going to call a cab in a minute , but in the meantime, weve shared a meal. Thanks.

ciao bella

I keep thinking it says Lemon Fish with Puree of SweAt peas.

Honor. No problem to think about that one, hmmm?  Honor yourself, others, the world.  Yes, yes, very good
idea.  But as with all spiritual concepts, there is ever so much more to it when you start giving it real thought. And of course, I’m now tripping on ideas of honor at the click of every hour.

Reading a regular column called A Million Ways to Save the World in the new Oprah magazine, a line struck me like a thunderclap:  Forget self-esteem…focus on self-respect, says Diana de Vegh, a psychotherapist.

Not self-esteem, self-respect. It made me hear my father’s voice in my head, exhorting me to be responsible, to think about the consequences of my actions (and, thankfully, he never allowed me to slide–if consequences were not forthcoming from external sources, he imposed them from within the family structure).   

Not self-esteem, self-respect. One implies unconditional love, which is fine in its place.  The other encourages esteem born of action and responsibility to self, others, the community and world.  Honor? 

I have been thinking far too often of one of the incidents from last week, about a person I am fond of who took a dramatic and destructive turn.  The consequences are terrible for her, and she was first in my prayers and sorrows, but as the days pass, I keep catching glimpses of the ripples that radiate outward from her, and how many different people are affected in small and large ways.  She most of all, of course, but we all choose our paths, one way or another, and so did she.  Those around her did not choose but will be forced to deal with the fall-out.  Her actions have consequences.

I’m sure many of you have heard about the plagiarism discussion surrounding a historical romance writer, who was outed on an irreverent romance review website. (I am not going to contribute to the fire by adding links or names–that is not the point here.) There are dishonorable actions all around on this one–the plagiarism is wrong, and should rightfully have been reported.  But with power comes responsibility, and the glee of the exposers is in poor taste.  The body of journalism law and ethics has developed for a reason, out of trial and error. Plagiarism is a crime that must be reported whenever it is discovered. That is responsible.  Continuing to hoot and holler over the crime after reporting makes it feel about as appealing as a couple of sixth graders kicking a dead deer on the side of the road.

Also, Madeline L’Engle says, "If you don’t do your work, it might not ever get done."  My minister (whom I seem to be quoting a lot here recently) says over and over, "Do what is yours to be done." 

Simple, clear, straightforward, and like a powerful sword, the idea carries both redemption and crusade.  If you do your work, it then goes into the world to heal or inspire or quiet or amuse or breathe life or excite or express.  If you do it, things heal, get better.  If you don’t, the work goes unfinished, the holes remain, the ache stays aching.

It’s almost impossible to imagine a world in which everyone is doing that, focusing on what is theirs to do.   I can certainly see times in my life when simply focusing on my own stuff would have made a difference.  I’m sure you can see incidents in your own, can’t you?  To earn self-respect, I must be responsible to the press of the work that is mine to do, and the consequences are toward healing.   My acquaintance turned her back on what was hers to do, and the result is crushing.  The reporters of the plagiarism were responsible and did what was theirs to do, but then allowed power to lead them into destructive action, and thereby possibly wound the work that is still theirs to do.  They turned honorable action to dishonorable action.  Sensationalism is never honorable. (Notice how sensationalism enters into the presidential race, for example.)

Hmm.  I think this is going to be very interesting, exploring honor, as part of what is mine to do this year.

What is yours to honor this year? What does honor mean to you?