• Cannonballs and Climbing Hills

    In anticipation of our move to Grenada, where my wife, Angie, will begin medical school, she’s been climbing our local ski hill at Rib Mountain State Park on a daily basis. She says it makes her feel grounded. I like her so sometimes I get grounded by climbing the mountain too. It’s a workout!

    Summer days in Wisconsin are hot and humid, so we’ve also been frequenting my parents’ pool. After a day of work or packing up our house (or climbing a mountain), Angie will suggest we go for a float. But rather than ease her way into the water, she’s lately taken to doing cannonballs.

    It’s revealing that on the precipice of a huge change for our family, the two activities that are putting my wife most at peace are climbing mountains and doing cannonballs. It’s gotten me thinking a lot about movement.

    Life is composed of dualities. We think of these dualities as opposed to one another but often they work together to help us find balance. Angie’s been finding her peace through rising (climbing a mountain) and falling (doing cannonballs). Rising and falling.

    Rising is a movement that represents determined effort. You have to take it step by step, focusing on the tasks in front of you. As we prepare to move our household, it seems like we’re climbing a mountain. The same can be said for becoming a doctor. The end goal may seem daunting but all you can do is focus on the immediate task ahead; the next step or the work of the day. Eventually you get to the peak.

    Falling is a movement that represents letting go. You have to jump in. You have to leave the firm ground of your comfort behind, facing the unknown and immersing yourself in new surroundings.

    I like how Amanda Shires describes falling in her song, “The Drop and Lift”:

    A swarm of sparrows rising over a cane field
    Hearts ascend like that
    Falling is the closest to flying
    I believe we’ll ever get, we’ll ever get

    Contrast this to how Stevie Nicks describes climbing a mountain in the Fleetwood Mac song, “Landslide”:

    I took my love, I took it down
    Climbed a mountain and I turned around
    And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
    ‘Til the landslide brought me down

    In speaking of love and relationships, these songs highlight the fact that dualities are not always as they seem. They speak of the mysterious nature of rising and falling. Of looking at life from below, moving upwards; and of looking at life from above, moving downwards. Of climbing mountains and doing cannonballs.

    I think the lesson is this:

    Whatever the mountain you face, keep climbing it, because eventually you’ll reach the summit. But also remember to take a leap every once in a while, knowing that a fall will come shortly after, because in falling we allow ourselves to fly (or, in Angie’s case, swim).


  • Say Goodbye to Moco

    We weren’t supposed to be a cat family. Before getting married I told my future wife that I never wanted a cat, that I’m extremely allergic to cats, that a cat would leave traces of cat hair and urine throughout our house. A month into our marriage we had a cat.

    We misguidedly let our 3-year-old son name our cat and he joyfully proclaimed that we would call her “Booger.” I immediately had the thought that “Moco,” or booger in Spanish, sounded a lot better. I thought it maybe exuded more of a coffee shop feel because of its proximity to “mocha.” After a small amount of coaxing we were able to get him to agree to the suggestion.

    Moco has been a part of our family now for sixteen years and I’ve officially become a cat person. But really, Moco had me converted during her first year with us. The epitome of a “curious cat” and a “scaredy cat,” Moco is easy to love, her Garfield-face always looking back at you judgingly.

    Moco recently inspired me to start a list of things you should never do. The first thing:

    1. Don’t hug your cat and then go change a record.
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    Moco is on my mind because this past Sunday we said goodbye to her. My wife and I are moving out of the country and made the difficult decision to not take her with us. Fortunately we were able to find her an amazing family to stay with while we’ll be gone the next two years. So it’s not goodbye goodbye. Still, saying goodbye to her was hard. She’s getting older and we don’t know if we’ll see her again.

    I’m not sure why but I’ve had Billy Joel on the mind too. It might have to do with a comment a middle school teacher friend of mine made a few weekends ago. He was talking about unexpected things students say and recounted a first day of school scenario in which he asked a student, “How was your summer?” The student responded, “You know? This summer I really got into Billy Joel.”

    So shortly after we said goodby to Moco, the following Billy Joel song popped into my head:

    Goodbye Moco, goodbye my baby.


  • Hey Jealousy

    Anne Lamott’s book, Bird by Bird, is a helpful and honest guide for writing fiction. She pulls back the curtains to confirm what we all already know about writing. It’s hard! Lamott paints the writing process as one riddled with insecurity, self-doubt, and despair. But she does so with a light heart and a whole lot of humor.

    Her chapter on jealousy stood out to me as one of the most insightful and one of the funniest. In it she describes a severe bout of jealousy she experienced when a less-skilled writer friend started to have a lot more success than her. She writes:

    My therapist said that jealousy is a secondary emotion, that it is born out of feeling excluded and deprived, and that if I worked on those age-old feelings, I would probably break through the jealousy. (…) She said it was once again that business of comparing my insides to other people’s outsides. She said to go ahead and feel the feelings. I did. They felt like shit.

    She goes on to detail the small pieces of advice that strung together a solution for her jealousy. I would summarize this string of advice as follows:

    1. Show grace to yourself and others, knowing that we will all die someday
    2. Practice mindfulness to get a little better day by day
    3. Use humor to make negative feelings funny
    4. Accept negative feelings and defuse their impact on you
    5. Talk and write about your feelings

    I’m a big believer in using strategies from Stoicism (see “7 Stoic Lessons on Living Life to Its Fullest“) and ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) to overcome any negative emotion that is preventing you from experiencing more fulfillment in life. This is exactly the stuff Lamott used to move past her jealousy. After putting these strategies into practice, she was able to reach a point of compassion for herself and for her friend, with whom she graciously decided to part ways. She writes:

    And finally I felt that my jealousy and I were strangely beautiful…

    The very day I read this chapter I learned of another resolution to a conflict involving shades of jealousy. In early June, Charli XCX released her album, BRAT. On the song, “Girl, so confusing,” she addresses an unnamed artist and the struggles she experiences in their relationship. Immediately following the song’s release, many speculated that the artist she was referring to was Lorde. This was confirmed when just two weeks later, Charli XCX released a follow-up single, “The girl, so confusing version with lorde.” On the remix, Lorde actually has a verse in which she responds to Charli’s lyrics about their relationship. She responds, in part:

    Well, honestly, I was speechless
    When I woke up to you voice note
    You told me how you’d been feeling
    Let’s work it out on the remix
    You’d always say, “Let’s go out”
    But then I’d cancel last minute
    I was so lost in my head
    And scared to be in the pictures
    ‘Cause for the last couple years
    I’ve been at war in my body
    I tried to starve myself thinner
    And then I gained all the weight back
    I was trapped in the hatred
    And your life seemed so awesome
    I never thought for a second
    My voice was in your head

    This is still pop music. Such a public display of resolving conflict is going to promote the work of both artists, and as the song suggests, “make the internet go crazy.” But I hear the dialogue between Charli XCX and Lorde as being vulnerable and honest. The very act of putting your work out into the world makes you vulnerable. The song’s subject matter brings me back to what Lamott’s therapist told her about jealousy:

    She said it was once again that business of comparing my insides to other people’s outsides.

    I try to remind myself on a daily basis that everyone I encounter is experiencing some kind of suffering, even those who appear to be happy and successful. Often times their sufferings are internal and go unnoticed, maybe even to the closest of friends. Knowing this can help us all give one another a bit more grace, reconcile the conflicts that divide us, and ultimately, reach the potential that each of us carries.


  • Think Process, Not Product

    I’ve been following Austin Kleon’s work for a while now. I like how he talks about process over product in his book, Show Your Work.

    The products of artists we admire and follow are all around us. The process they go through to reach such heights is often a mystery. One reason I like Kleon’s work is that he doesn’t shy away from sharing his process. In fact, sharing his process is kind of his thing.

    Lately I’ve been seeing the idea of process, i.e., how artists go about their work and how they find inspiration, crop up everywhere.

    In Jeff Tweedy’s book, World Within a Song, he writes about the influence The Beatles Anthology had on his music. I was 15 when the first of the anthology albums was released in 1995. One of the singles for the album was the demo, “Free as a Bird,” a “new” song by the Beatles recorded in 1977. I remember being mesmerized by the song’s video in which you experience the perspective of a bird flying through Beatles history as John Lennon croons about being free.

    The Beatles Anthology featured rarities, outtakes, and live performances spanning the Beatles’ career, all providing an insight into their process. Of the anthology, Tweedy writes:

    It’s truly hard to overstate how important it was to be given the validation of knowing that even the Beatles struggled, made wrong turns, changed course, and ultimately surrendered to each unsure moment as an invitation to swim in a starlit sky of possibility. I was given permission to sound bad on my way to sounding great by these records. Bad with gusto and an unabashed joyful wonder. No one looks inside and discovers only diamonds and pearls. If art is at least in part an act of discovery, you might as well learn how to enjoy getting lost, too.

    My family has a saying that we use when facing difficult times: The struggle is real. Like Tweedy, it’s validating to me to know that other artists, writers, teachers, etc., struggle through their process. It gives me courage and determination to work through my process, with all its imperfections, toward something more beautiful.


ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Eric Wenninger is an educator and writer. He teaches language and culture and writes about his thoughts and experiences here.