Welcome to 2017!

It's the new year, and, as the song goes, we have 525,600 minutes ahead (yes, yes, if we're lucky.)

And so I've been thinking, at this time of resolutions, how do I want to spend the year?  I've never been one for keeping resolutions, though I've made many of the usual ones.  Diet, exercise, be kind, be mindful--always focusing on flaws and weaknesses, ways I could be better.  What a crappy way to start the year.   I don't turn to Mama or the kids and tell them how I'd like them to be better this year (well, except my cleaning tirade this morning, but I stepped on a video game box!), so why do I do it to myself?

Instead, I got to thinking about things I did last year that I want to continue into 2017.  This was a more do-able list, mainly because I'm already doing them.  It includes but is not limited to:

• hiking 
• birding
• volunteering (hospice, Girl Scouts, lay ministry, historic house)
• making things to give away (crochet or Zentangle)
• Zentangle (esp. teach Zentangle classes)
• personal retreats (I have two coming up in the next few months)
• family getaways (or longer vacations)
• attend concerts/musicals (opera on Friday, Sunset Boulevard in February)
• playing piano
• hosting social events/meet up with friends
• cooking with the kids and/or Mama
• purging unused books and items (I unloaded a ton of books and things last year)

Now, I'm not one of those people who believe things change magically with the new calendar.  There have been lots of FB memes about 2016 taking our 80s childhoods and hoping 2017 will be kinder.  And it has been a year of loss for celebrities that I have "known" for a long time--Carrie Fisher, George Michael, "Mrs. Brady" Florence Henderson, Prince, Alan Rickman, David Bowie, to name a very few.  As I wrote to Lambeth earlier this week, I was especially saddened by the deaths of Carrie Fisher and George Michael.  As a teen, I had loved the music of Wham! and George Michael and had even seen him in concert twice.  I hadn't listened much recently, nor followed his brushes with the law for public sex and drugs, but I was sad to hear that he had died.  Even more so Carrie Fisher, whom I adored as Princess Leia since I was six years old.  Now I had seen her other films and read some of her books, liked her sharp wit and public pronouncements.  And I had been so glad to see her in the new Star Wars movie.  I'm sad that she's dead, especially because she had a 24-year-old daughter.

So I've been reflecting on why we're sad about the deaths of people we've never met.  I think, in the case of celebrities/authors/artists/musicians, I have been grateful for the entertainment and pleasure they've brought me and so wish them well in life.  When their lives are over, especially young, I am sad that they didn't live longer (or suffered disease etc at the end), that I won't have the pleasure of their art anymore.  I suppose it's also why, when they're alive, people seek autographs etc.--to have connection with those who make us happy, to feel special by connecting with people we think are special (I'm not much of an autograph or photo seeker, though I do have a supposedly-signed pic of Carrie Fisher from when I wrote to her as a child.)  Like when we had the kids' picture taken with Alex Kingston, whom they adored in Doctor Who.  I did look up to Fisher as a role model, both in the character of Leia and in her outspokenness and advocacy later on.  

With her in mind--"the new hope" from Star Wars--the word I've been focusing on the last few weeks has been "hope."  In hospice, we learn that sometimes we have to adjust what we are hoping for, i.e. no longer hoping for a cure but hoping for meaningful visits with loved ones.  I can't hope that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named will not be president; it's going to happen, despite all the past talk of the Hamilton Electors and present talk of early impeachment.  What I can hope for is that he continues to be unskillful at keeping his promises and that many diverse groups can band together to oppose him regularly.  I can hope that a chastened majority, including myself, and news media will be vigilant.  And I can hope for sensibility and calm and patience and understanding.

Because we're going to need all the hope we can get for 525,600 minutes multiplied by four.

Of Rituals and Resolutions

The kids were asking us yesterday what some of our New Year's rituals are, knowing that our Chinese New Year's celebrations are highly ritualized. But we're pretty casual about the start of a new year--we didn't even stay up until midnight (though we taped the ball drop to watch later today)! Today we'll hang out, eat black-eyed peas and cornbread and greens (well, I will), and, perhaps most anticipated, watch The Clone Wars movie. And I'm adding a new thing: we'll make a dessert, this year a cherry pie (homemade crust, canned filling), a sweet to usher in a sweet new year. And Mama has a hankering for pie, especially since I've been reading Pascale le Draoulec's American Pie, about her pie odyssey across middle America (so far, I would more highly recommend Anne Dimock's Humble Pie, for a generational discussion of piemaking).

Anyway, we told the kids that many people make resolutions, or promises to try to achieve things in the new year. The kids have resolved to "make more books," one of their favorite activities being to draw sequential pictures in a narrative of their own making. They also said they wanted to learn to read this year (yes, yes, I prodded them on that one). And to "do kung fu" everyday. We also talked about living our values, something I'm going to keep in front of me this year, what they've been calling "faith in action" in church school. So we talked specifically about principles 1 and 7, i.e. the inherent worth and dignity of all people and the interconnected web of life on earth, which translates for the kids to respect people and reduce/reuse/recycle. A subset of that last one is a guideline I read about somewhere: when deciding on what to buy green, spend the most money on items closest to your body (i.e. food, fabrics, body products, cleaning products) and the least on those furthest (curtains, furniture, etc--though, does offgassing of those products count? Still working on this one). It was a fruitful conversation.

Mama and I have some other goals for 2011, think of it as ideas we want to foreground more than as "resolutions," specifically:

1. Live our values.

2. Be mindful.

3. Eschew judgement.

4. We will strive to do what we're thinking about, an inelegant way of saying that it's not good enough just to think about sending a card or calling or volunteering or donating, you have to do it. Sometimes we lack follow-through.

5. And one that has become more obvious to us recently: it's okay to run out or not have enough of something. Overabundance is not only not necessary, it's detrimental. This became obvious in planning food for Applepalooza, but also in how much I cook for dinner, what's stocked in the cabinets, number of Christmas presents, etc etc. Funny that this notion would be a surprise to us, but I guess we did come of age in the 1980s and 1990s, the complete opposite of the Great Depression.

Lastly, I'll be posting our semi-annual "Family Questionnaire" of likes and dislikes, which in a way record for me where we are and what's changed. And for the first time ever, the kiddos will get to participate.

New Year's Goals and Resolutions

As usual, I have been considering the new year and resolutions and thus reading up on them in the papers.

• Resolutions from Dr Oz--9 suggested ones, including flossing, 7 minutes of yoga, having a resolution buddy, etc.
• How little exercise can you get away with? For mental health benefits, even 20 minutes a week can make you cheerier.
• Carpe Diem--don't wait, do it! Mama and I are getting much better about this, eating the special foods we buy, using the special soaps, whatever we're saving.
• Bono writes humorously and inspiringly on Ten Top Ten things we should do in the teens/tweens.

And so, I'm thinking of things I'm planning on focusing on this year. First, the big resolution, which is in my mind the lofty "big picture," and then the small actionable goals, or how I achieve the resolution (which is probably just befuddled semantics, but it's how I like to think of it. I'm a "big picture" girl).

Resolution: Continue my quest for a healthier lifestyle for me and my family, which has recently included getting cans and plastic containers out of the house (because of BPA), continuing our CSA subscription to encourage better seasonal and local eating, getting outside with the kids some everyday, and focusing on my PT workouts and WW program after the holiday hiatus (I gained about 3 lbs, which isn't bad, all things considered, and should hopefully go away fairly quickly).

Goal: Do not drive while talking on the cell phone. Even hands-free.

Goal: Set alarm clock for 6:30 a.m. so I can do my stretches and check email (maybe even blog) before the kids are up around 7:00 ish.

Goal: Make two new recipes a week (either for me or the kids), focusing on my new cookbooks.

That's it for now. And it's enough really.

My New Year's Resolution: Ban the Can!

It came to me in a flash, what my New Year's resolution would be: I'm giving up cans. Yep, I'm clearing the house of canned goods and will be using only fresh ingredients or those from jars, boxes, or bags.

Why? I read the Consumer Reports study that the average single serving of green beans has 80 times more BPA than the FDA recommends for a 165-pound adult! And that children eating one or two foods from cans a day receive levels of BPA that cause serious and harmful effects in lab rats.

And this week, Nicholas Kristof writes about the health bill and the kitchen. I had wondered if we weren't bailing the boat without fixing the hole: sure we can provide better health care coverage, which I absolutely believe is desperately needed, but if we are poisoning ourselves at the same time, it isn't going to make us a healthier nation. As Kristof points out, breast cancer rates have soared in the last 40 years, with risks at only 1 percent in 1975 to 12 percent now: that's 1 in less than 10 instead of 1 in 100! As someone at risk--early menstruation, late first pregnancy, overweight, family history--this greatly concerns me (which is why I read about the breast cancer prevention drug with great interest--it cuts risk rates dramatically; I'll be asking about that at my next OB visit).

So, we have already gotten rid of almost all the plastic containers in the house, and not just the "bad" plastics. We've switched to glass storage for everything but iced tea (which we're reconsidering as I type) and school snacks. And now we will be getting rid of almost all of our cans, especially canned soups and vegetables (with high rates, according to the CR study). But also cans of beans, fruits, tomatoes, whatever we have hanging around in the house. Yes, we'll still eat some cans--probably rare Asian fruits you can't get except in sugar syrup, and Ranch-style beans, maybe Ro-tel tomatoes. But only for once in awhile. Because while there seems be some evidence that much of it leaves with 5-9 hours, some stays around (and that 93% of us have some BPA in our bodies!!!!!). Cutting out our exposure to it can do nothing but help.

And, we'll be starting this New Year's resolution now, not in a month.

A Sticky Divorce

No, not us.

Come on, we've only been married a week!

I read the NYTimes article on keeping new year's resolutions (and the dismal success rate) and one of the interesting approaches is to consider the break with the old you as a divorce:

Recovering alcoholics, for example, have a higher chance of success if they reframe their sober life as a divorce from a tumultuous love affair with drinking, because they can then look back at their old life as a romantic adventure, rather than a sinkhole of regret.

It's just one of several steps in a progression to success, according to Alan Deutschman, author of Change or Die. The series includes:

1. Start with big changes, not small so you can see immediate success.
2. Act like the person you want to be.
3. "Reframe" the situation (as in the divorce technique).
4. Don't do it alone, a la WW or 12-step programs.

I'm fascinated by the divorce scenario, or really the idea of old and new me. I've been wondering why I've been so successful at being a vegetarian, not eating out, and not watching much tv, all activities that require a certain amount of discipline or self-control, while I'm not always a successful dieter. I think it's because, as a vegetarian, it was very clear-cut: I'm a person who doesn't eat animal flesh. Or, we're a family who doesn't eat out much. Or watch much tv. It became an inherent part of my identity. Independent decisions on what to eat and not eat don't create a coherent whole, only an endless series of conflicts, resolved or not. As an identity, "I'm a dieter," doesn't have the same positive message, so what if I reframe it? Think of myself as the person I want to be? Something like, "I'm a healthy eater so I won't eat _____." It's already worked this morning--I didn't nibbled off the gingerbread house when the kids demolished it. Because I don't eat candy like that anymore. Any mind trick that works, right?

Regardless, it's a struggle, which is why Oprah is the focus of the article, having lost and gained weight recently. As the article concludes, she's embracing self-acceptance this year. A good plan.

Especially if it's the new, divorced me.

(for more resources of healthy eating, see the Well blog's list of websites).

Green Hour

Remember how earlier this year I said I wanted to spend more time with the kids outdoors? Well, I learned about a great site that encourages just that: Greenhour. Sponsored by the National Wildlife Federation, whose My Big Backyard magazine we read, the website has a parents' guide with a useful list for an explorer's pack and adapting the outdoors to various learning styles, among other things. While we might not be old enough for the letterboxing featured on the homepage, some of the other ideas will no doubt prove useful. Especially if I find a forum for parents who aren't so comfortable in the outdoors . . . I guess you can add that to my list of new year's resolutions.