Memoir writing

A chill winter wind is hanging around today and with the grey overcast temperatures are not conducive to a walk.  Nope it is the kind of weather that makes me retreat inside.  It also makes me sleepy.  But at least it is better than a year ago when we had snow on this day, so I saw in my FB reminder photo today.  So I will not complain too much.  I have enough to keep me busy inside.  

 I started blogging years ago at the urging of a few dear friends and relatives who enjoyed my letters and my writings and felt I had a gift, something to say, something to share.  They have all since passed on and joined my angel tribe.  I lost my primary blog audience but I kept at it as  a pass time outlet, to record things about the travels we were on, sometimes to record something I did not want to forget about and often especially lately in my grief, I write to vent.  This is a safe enough space to me because it is not read and certainly not read by  a particular person who has pushed my buttons.  For a time there were a couple groups I wrote with and enjoyed but they too finally went by the wayside, one was Sepia Saturday posts and there I share a lot about my ancestors.  It helped me  in my genealogical research too.  

For a time I stepped fully away from blogging here and chose Facebook as primary communication.  It still is and a preferred way that I can keep in touch with so may all over the country at the same time.  But with Jerry's passing I migrate back here sometimes to write.  It serves as akind of journal for me.  

I used to think that someday I might write my memoir.  So when I saw the following by author Sue Monk Kidd on Facebook today I decided to copy it here to preserve the thoughts.  

Sue Monk Kidd

 For the woman I overheard say she wants to write a memoir, but can’t help feeling it’s self-indulgent…

May I go on record here. Writing memoir is gloriously self-indulgent and I’m perfectly okay with that. Women have been told so many times to be selfless that it can actually feel uncomfortable when we attempt to search for one.

When I write memoir, I’m undoubtedly in search of wholeness. Maybe I’m trying to resolve something, heal a wound, redeem some part of myself that has been orphaned or lost, or give a voice to what has been silenced. Maybe I’m trying to step into my truth. Maybe I’m trying to reveal myself to myself.

But here’s something I didn’t expect. Writing memoir can also be gloriously other-indulgent. The process not only takes me into myself, it frees me from myself. When I manage to distill my experience into meaning and integrate that meaning into my life through the creation of a narrative, I make it possible to move on without all the preoccupation and unconscious pull of the experience. It’s the unexamined experience that wreaks the most havoc in my life and in my relationships.

The surprise is always this. The deeper we delve into our own lives, the more likely we are to tap into a universal experience. We find the portal to everyone.

Techie gadgets and more access to my mind

Back when I created this blog I never thought I would run out of things to say or write here, but  changes happen and as quickly as technology changes sooner or later the change flows to our habits.  If we are wise and want to keep up. we go with the flow.  If we want to cling to old times, ways, habits and not learn we dig in our heels and proceed in our old familiar rut and we become as obsolete as the black and white tv's of yore.  The changes remind me of my late mother in law who  was always behind the times, having stalled somewhere in the early 1950's and refusing to learn more or expand her horizons.  She muddled through the rest of her life up to 96 years  in a muddle of being out of touch, backwards, left behind, bewildered.    

Old habits like this blog do not give up easily and from time to time, the blog specter haunts me, as a thought crosses my mind, "now that might be worth blogging."  It was once an easy way to communicate and ponder or to document my ponderings. Not so today as I have changed tactics to accommodate these mental flashes in the moment.  It is easier to  snap the  photo with my smart phone and share on Facebook in the moment and are we not supposed to practice being in the moment?    I don't have to sit down at  the keyboard and log in to the blog, type and edit and ponder, all I do is snap, click, share the photo and the thoughts and  into cyberspace, sharing with many more than ever frequent the blog.  

 After my March 31 health scare, I became even more of a rabid fitness freak and decided one of the monitors for activity would be my next techie purchase.  So it happened that I have acquired  my fitness watch monitor, also by Samsung,  my Gearfit.  My  simple post onto Facebook asking for recommendations about a month ago gave me rapid responses that most of my friends were using the Fit Bit wrist monitors.  Several gals at zumba use that and yet wear a watch besides.  That very day as I would head off to purchase my new  gadget, Fit bit issued a massive recall on their  wrist monitors, some had burns from the  applications.  Again several Facebook friends alerted me about the recall and I had read that morning's news from my Wall St Journal, also on my smartphone, that Fitbit was recalling these particular devices.  Either there was a sensitivity to the  nickel in the stainless steel or some  claimed they had a radiation type burn from wearing their  wristbands. 

 Nevertheless I was sure as I drove to Sam's and Best Buy that I would buy the Fitbit  and one that would sync to my smartphone where I already had a Health app to monitor steps, track health indicators, etc.  I  do not always carry the phone with me and really a wristband would be so much handier.  Sam'sClub was my first stop where there were several options and I was still favoring the Fit bit but decided to drive over to Best Buy where even more  varieties awaited.  Yes the Fitbit would sync with both my PC and my smartphone android.  There were so many options but do I really need to check my Facebook notifications and email on my wrist?  Probably not, yet I saw no sense in wearing a wristband and watch so I would get that combination and of course wanted the heart monitor and the various  fitness applications.  Something about the fitbit besides the black strap was not attractive, the watch option was bulky looking and the smaller one would be difficult to read without cheater glasses.  Then I  saw the Samsung Gear Fit and decided it was for me, I am  quite happy with my Samsung Galaxy phone and have been impressed with quality of our Samsung TV's.  The Samsung display is much more attractive,  a touch screen and I can change the wallpaper to match my outfits.  All it lacks is some bling on the plain black wristband, but it also is small enough to adapt to my wrist and does not look bulky nor require reading glasses.  

I have had it now for almost a month and really like it, in fact wear it all the time, addictively.  It can even monitor my sleep patterns but I have decided I am not comfortable wearing it to bed.  I already know I am an active sleeper, I travel in my sleep as well as getting up and down several times a night for bathroom calls. I check my progress and find most days I  rack up over 11 or 12 thousand steps where my goal was 10 thousand. It does prove that one burns way fewer calories than expected and that is why many who claim to be exercising are puzzled when their weight stays the same.  We really need to work our bodies hard for long periods of time to burn up calories, for example 3021 steps or 1.3 miles only consumes 83 calories for my body.  Proof that both food restriction and exercise are needed to maintain a healthy weight.  I congratulate my self on my physical over achievement.  The Fitgear also gets my text messages which is handy and runs 3 to 4 days without needing plugged in to recharge.  And so another techie gadget has become a part of me and taught me more applications and fitness awareness.  By the way, the cardiologist  gave me a good to go and keep it up on Thursday and said to come back after a year.