happiness

#HoopDancingChallenge

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

On New Year’s Eve of 2019, I counted up my hoop-dancing minutes and found I’d danced for 19 hours that year. That felt impressive and I thought to myself “How cool would it be to dance for 24 hours in 2020?” Well, we all know what happened that year and I didn’t hit the mark. Not by a long shot.

Last night I added up my hoop-dancing minutes: 17.5 hours. While that’s fewer minutes than 2019, there are still 8 days left in this year. I’d only need another 389 minutes and, the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. 2021 has  been another extremely difficult year–in some ways much harder than the previous–and I really want to close it out doing something that brings me so much joy.

Self portrait December 24, 2021

According to my complex mathematical computations, I’ll need to average 49 hoop-dancing minutes per day to hit my goal. I just danced for 36, smiling the whole time. Now I’m off to ice my recently de-booted foot so I can get back into the spin later today.

Hair today

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

In case anyone’s interested in an update, I got my hair cut and it feels so, so good to have lost that length and weight!

       

The stylist spent lots of time talking with me about my wants, needs, hair-care practices (um, mostly non-existent) and collaborated with me on a plan. She demonstrated how to do the basic styling seen here and set me up for a complimentary appointment in a week so we can reassess. She said she didn’t care if it took us five more cuts to get it right. According to her, this is a work in progress.

I’m already very happy and can’t wait to take it out on a test run. I’d convinced myself over the years that I needed to be able to pull back my hair when I run, but am thinking the lack of hair on the back of my neck is going to feel quite good.

P.S. The stylist and salon were also mindful of people’s health and safety. Hooray!

Reconnection

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Yesterday was spent on the couch reading a book because I couldn’t muster energy to do anything else after the latest mass shooting that took place in Boulder. I am heartbroken and outraged that ten people were murdered and grateful my Boulder friends are safe (although deeply traumatized). One of those friends (from the Sunrise Movement) and I had a video call today. We haven’t had an extensive conversation since last June when he hosted a socially-distanced art build. I still remember the rush of emotions I felt that day when he answered my knock at his door. It was so good seeing his kind face again (through the blur of my tears).

Carl, unmasked. June 7, 2020

When his face appeared via video today, I felt similar feelings. We talked and talked and caught up. He shared his ideas for a new direction he’s considering taking. But it wasn’t until WAY into the call that I clarified he’d already taken steps toward that new direction. As he described the place and position he’d applied for, I got really excited for him because it sounded like the perfect fit. Then, just moments after I said as much, he let out a gasp.

“I’ve gotten an email from them.”

“Open it open it open it!”

They want to interview with him next week!

I’m sharing this here because these days so much feels ugly and difficult and cruel. But not this. Reconnecting with my young friend was wonderful. Witnessing him getting very good news was phenomenal. I’ve been smiling all day.

Doing the baby goat dance

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

After weeks of angst and confusion over my latest middle grade project, I just hit SEND on an email to my critique group. I am so relieved! The email has multiple attachments including an unfinished first draft + a Word document with my revisions ideas and a whole lot of questions for them + an alternative chapter written in 3rd person (rather than 1st person). Basically, I sent them a big, fat mess, the likes of which I’ve never done before. I didn’t want to inflict that on them or embarrass myself, but I had no choice. I need help.

Now, I’m going to try my best to stop thinking about the project until January 13th, when the collective genius of the Writing Roosters comes to my rescue.

This calls for a happy, hoppy goat dance!

Lucky me!

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Life’s a particularly hard row to hoe these days. BUT. Today is a very good day because I just finished making congratulatory phone calls to the applicants who’ve been accepted into the Michelle Begley Mentor Program. There’s much joy that comes from being the program coordinator, and a big piece of that joy is getting to be the bearer of good news. Woot! I do love spreading happiness.

 

And now I think I’ll take the doggo out for a walk in the sunshine.

Lucky, lucky me.

I believe

/ Tracy Abell

American Robin. February 14, 2020.

You have to believe in happiness,
Or happiness never comes …
Ah, that’s the reason a bird can sing –
On his darkest day he believes in Spring.
~  Douglas Malloch

Adopting a new outlook

/ Tracy Abell

I travel light. I think the most important thing is to be in a good mood and enjoy life, wherever you are.  ~ Diane von Furstenberg

Okay, my suitcase is a wee bit larger than the one in the photo but I am determined to be in a good mood and enjoy myself on my upcoming trip.

In fact, Ms. von Furstenberg’s outlook is very sound and I’d like to adopt it every day, no matter where I roam. Look out world, well-adjusted adult coming through!

Bring on the colorful fun!

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Revising a manuscript can be overwhelming, especially when your agent sends two pages of notes. I’m hugely grateful for her insights and feedback, but there are moments when I panic and think it’s gonna be impossible to bring coherency to this messy draft. That’s where the colorful fun comes into play.

Highlighters + sticky notes + bound manuscript = me forging ahead.

I’m holding tight to my color-coded revision process because it keeps me organized, but also because using different colors bring me happiness. Novel-writing should include joy and happiness as much as possible. And because coffee and peanut butter rice cakes also bring joy and happiness, they are equally mandatory to my process.

I will bring order to this messed-up draft. You heard it here first.

My sunny bouquet

/ Tracy Abell

This is what I saw when I exited the building after getting good news from my dentist .

I swear, it felt as if these flowers had bloomed just for me.

Happiness is …

/ Tracy Abell

. . . a good sneeze.

. . . Coreopsis blooming.

. . . hoop dancing to Aretha Franklin’s “Rock Steady.”

. . . watching my sons find their way.

. . . the versatility of the word “fuck.”

. . . checking an item off a to-do list.

. . . singing along with the radio.

. . . cherries in season.

. . . a Red-tailed Hawk floating on an air current.

. . . realizing a revised chapter is much better than before.

. . . yelling “Steve Holt!”

. . . wrestling with a dog.

. . . peeing after holding it too long.

. . . not caring what anyone else thinks.

. . . popcorn and beer.

. . . a no-look basketball pass.

. . . napping on a rainy afternoon.

. . . napping on a snowy afternoon.

. . . reading on a rainy or snowy afternoon.

. . . never feeling guilty about napping or reading.

. . . a cat on the lap.

. . . a Western Meadowlark’s song.

. . . running hard and feeling strong.

. . . clean sheets.

. . . never, ever having to change another poopy diaper.

. . . hearing a tantrum in a restaurant and knowing it ain’t my responsibility.

. . . laughing ’til you cry.

. . . painted toenails.

. . . coffee in bed.

. . . changing out of boots after a long hike.

One little piece of happiness for every day in June.
DSC04945

Switching Off My Nonfiction Brain

/ Tracy Abell

I just turned in the second of two nonfiction projects due this month.
Oh, happy day!
Don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy nonfiction.
I love the research and
the learning and
the challenge of distilling all that information for young readers.

But right now I’m happy happy happy
knowing that I’m (temporarily, at least) going back
to fiction
where it is not necessary to footnote every single sentence.

Fiction: where it’s all about making up shit.

Be still, my heart.
beating heart clipart

Sunshine + Birds = Improved Outlook

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

It’s been soul-crushingly cold this past week, but today the temperature in the shade is hovering at the freezing mark and is almost tolerable in the sun. My feathered friends have been here throughout the week, eating seeds and drinking from the heated bath. I’m grateful for their company.

Birds in cold and snow 001

 

Birds in cold and snow 005

Birds in cold and snow 008

Stay warm, friends!

Running Wild, Running Free

/ Tracy Abell / 7 Comments

The last time I went for a run was 81 days ago. Today, with the full blessing of my physical therapist, I ran again.

It’s been a hard bunch of months around here as I went from being someone who did yoga almost every morning plus ran a couple times per week plus lifted weights three times per week plus sneaking in a hooping session or two, to a woman who couldn’t do much of anything.

How did that happen? It was the strangest thing but apparently my old gluteal muscle aka left butt cheek issue didn’t like how I ignored it and let it get tighter and tighter, and so triggered other tight points in my body which culminated in my back getting so tight and painful that it hurt to move. I literally went from being able to put my palms flat on the floor to the next day not being able to reach much past my knees. It was bizarre.

Depression ensued. As did loss of muscle and weight gain. Many tears were shed as I wallowed in what I was afraid would be a permanent condition. I went on my first job interview in about twenty years (with the hope I’d be better by the time the job started) and was hired to work at the library, but ended up having to tell them I couldn’t take the position due to my physical limitations. I never, ever would’ve guessed I’d have to turn down a job for that reason, and it was humbling.

But my physical therapist and I persevered, and then I started getting massages from a genius therapist who focused on trigger points which then allowed me to do more of the stretching and strengthening exercises without pain. We saw light at the end of the tunnel.

Today I came out of that tunnel. I walked for ten minutes then ran (slowly) for fifteen minutes then walked another ten, ran another fifteen, and walked ten more minutes for a whopping total of 60 minutes of exercise! All I’ve done over the last several months was walk for about thirty minutes at a time, and when I walked home this afternoon I wept tears of gratitude and happiness and oh-my-goddess-I’ve-missed-running-so-very-much-tears.

I’d left a note for Zebu letting him know when I took off and when to expect me home, asking him to drive up the street to find me if I hadn’t returned by then. Just as I walked into the driveway, the garage door went up. There was my son, the one who’s been so sad on my behalf as I struggled to regain my mobility, getting ready to come haul his sad mama home. He smiled when he saw me there and his smile got bigger when I told him I felt great.

Here I am, fresh out of the shower, so very happy to be back:Tracy after run on April 9 2014 (for blog post)