25 – Resolve to Know Portland Better

This was a new year 2016 piece written for Frugal Portland.

Photo by Zack Spear on Unsplash

It is traditional to begin the new year with a flurry of resolutions you probably won’t keep. Instead of bothering with the charade of self-abnegation, resolve to do more. Portland is a city so rich in charms it is easy to miss all but the most-publicized. Resolve to know Portland better in 2018. Seek inspiration in its beauty, history, creativity and quirk; then blaze your own trail.

Blue Sky Gallery

The public face of the Oregon Center of the Photographic Arts, Blue Sky Gallery is a space dedicated to cultivating fearless creativity. Nestled in one of the country’s most photogenic cities, it keeps an intense schedule of 20 to 30 exhibitions annually, meaning it rewards repeated visits. Blue Sky Gallery also houses a research library and holds regular artist talks and programs. Browse its walls for inspiration, read our photography tips (pt 1 and 2 ) then go create your own photographic masterpiece.

Location: DeSoto Building, 122 NW 8th Avenue, Portland, Oregon 97209 

Hoyt Arboretum

More than just a park, Hoyt Arboretum is a living research lab that is home to more than 2,000 plant species from around the world, including many endangered species. Sprawled across almost 200 acres in Washington Park, and interwoven with a dozen miles of trails, the Arboretum is the perfect place to rejuvenate and reconnect with nature.

Oregon Nikkei Legacy Center

Last year taught us that the unthinkable can become reality in a finger-snap, a lesson history will teach if we’re willing to learn. Nikkei means Japanese emigrants and their descendants, an immigrant group that, like Muslims today, became the scapegoats in a political power struggle. The Legacy Center charts the experiences of Portland’s Japanese community, from its heyday in the early 20th century to the devastation of the post-Pearl Harbor internment of Japanese families. If the contemporary parallels don’t frighten you, they should.

Location: 121 NW 2nd Ave, Portland, OR 97209

Lincoln Street Kayak & Canoe Museum

This small museum crammed with hand-crafted boats represents the can-do ethos of Portland better than a dozen lavish public institutions. It is home to the largest collection of Arctic kayak forms in the world: the majority full-sized, functional replicas built by proprietor/curator Harvey Golden. “Perhaps no single object created by genus Homo better represents our ancestors’ ingenuity, survival instinct, and desire for exploration than the canoe,” he writes on the website. The museum itself is proof of what ingenuity and curiosity can create.

Location: 5340 SE Lincoln St., Portland, OR 97215

Mt. Tabor Park

Mount Tabor is actually the cinder cone of an extinct volcano. How cool is that? The original park planners had no idea, they just knew its sweeping green hills and lush woods made an ideal urban oasis. In fact, it supplied water to the city for many years. Its reservoirs, no longer in use, are beautiful examples of functional architecture. Its trails, picnic areas, tennis courts and dog park make it an invaluable communal space.

Oregon Rail Heritage Center

The train tracks that criss-cross Portland are just a remanent of the golden age of railroads. As a major port, the city was also a key depot for major rail lines. The Oregon Rail Heritage Center not only preserves this history, it keeps it alive. ORHC is home to two fully restored engines, making Portland the only city in the U.S. with two operational steam locomotives. A third historic locomotive is undergoing restoration. Other highlights of the collection include maps and exhibitions about local rail yards.

Location: 2250 SE Water Avenue Portland, Oregon 97214

Freakybuttrue Peculiarium

Celebrating the oddball, occult, deviant, and downright peculiar, the Freakybuttrue Peculiarium invites you to join it in keeping Portland weird. The quirky musuem-cum-shop-cum-leftfield-social-scene promises “interactive displays for all six senses”. This includes art, books, “one-of-a-kind-oddities”, toys, gifts and more.

Location: 2234 NW Thurman St. Portland, Oregon 97210

Do Less, Accomplish More

Sleeping in

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Photo by Zohre Nemati on Unsplash

Over the holiday period I’ve fallen into the habit of sleeping till 9 or 9:30 – some 90 minutes longer than my usual routine. For the pats few days, I set my alarm for the normal hour, but hit the off-button and go back to sleep. This feels indulgent, borderline sinful, most certainly lazy.

On the night of 1 January, my husband and I settled in to watch The Big Lebowski.

It was an individual favorite when we met; since then, it has become a totem for our relationship – a source of private idiom and in-jokes on loop.

The opening voice-over informs us that the Dude was a lazy man. What a contrast, I thought, to the expectations a new year brings.

Resolutions

New Year arrives with a cultural imperative to improve. What are your new year’s resolutions?

The noun resolution, in this sense, alludes to a determined wish, or decision.

It is worth remembering that another definition of resolution is ending, or conclusion.

Linguistically, all unwitting, we start the new year by demanding conclusions.

Is it any wonder they fail to materialize?

If there is one thing writing teaches it is that you cannot force a conclusion. They are reached by patience, effort and serendipity.

Let it be

The Big Lebowski is a tale of serendipity.

Sheer coincidence brings together two characters who clumsily try to exploit their chance encounter. The lostness of this cause is what makes the film funny; the universality of the impulse to connive and manipulate makes it poignant.

That The Dude comes off better in the end has nothing to do with effort and everything to do with his ability to, in moments of crisis, tune out and go bowling.

The other foot

As a stone type A, with a self-perpetuating to-do list I love Jeff Bridge’s character because The Dude is my antithesis.

Worry… it’s how I stay in shape, poet Maggie Smith writes in ‘Let’s not begin’.

Me too.

I crave resolutions – the conclusion kind – and if one isn’t plain I’ll fret all day and toss and turn all night, trying to wrestle one into being. If I can’t see how a thing will turn out, I’ll manufacture an ending, toss a match to see what sparks.

Wearing out

This leads to plenty of fractured nights, followed by days where tiredness clouds my senses like swamp gas. The demons of weariness are legion: irritability, forgetfulness, poor hand-eye coordination, binge eating, anxiety, tearfulness. If I get less than eight or, preferably, nine hours, they swarm – shattering my mood, judgment and productivity.

Given my love of ticking items off a list, you’d think that alone would be enough to ensure I got enough rest, but something in my wiring (Puritan genes + protestant upbringing perhaps) gibes me to try harder.

One of the first rational things lost when I’m tired is the ability to admit I need a break.

Instead, I try to fix myself by doing more.

I’m almost done…”

My husband has heard these words too many times to count. They are always a lie. He’s learned to spot them for what they are: a self-sabotaging effort to put my life and spirit in order by crossing off one more line on my to-do list.

Being the partner of a perpetual fixer must be a massive drag. The nearest I got was a long-running infatuation with a man who refused to date me because he had to much to do. At the time, I thought it was a terrible, bogus excuse. We stayed friends, though, and now I’m grateful to have someone who understands the ridiculous compulsion to seek solace in busy-ness.

Even The Dude falls into this trap, lamenting that his thinking had gotten very uptight.

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Photo by Tiago B on Unsplash

Corridors without doors

When I get tired, my brain ceases to create and wallows in endless grooves. Instead of romping through fields of possibility, it marches along grim, fluorescent-lit corridors without doors. Inspiration and joy are things that happen to other people, in other places; for me, the grindstone, the factory clock; the slow treadmill.

This is lethal for my writing, and sense of self.

As someone who struggles to stay ahead of clinical depression, self-care is essential. Skimping on sleep is the first domino; next come exercise, eating, socializing, work, creating. Then the need to do more panic kicks in and flattens what is left of a painstakingly built structure.

Do less, accomplish more

My guilt at “over”-sleeping is rooted in a real fear that it’ll turn me lazy, like my good friend The Dude. Life is no movie, my brain chides. In the real world, the other Lebowski was right – you gotta get a job.

Yet this fixation with being busy is, as many wise souls have remarked, antithetical to actual accomplishment. Presenteeism is malingering for suck-ups. Most of the things I busy myself with, from house cleaning to answering email, have little bearing on the things that bring me satisfaction and joy. These things – reading, writing, time with my husband – get shoved into corners and fed scraps of my energy and attention.

Fail again

Instead of resolutions, I made a list of new year’s goals. It felt good to write them down, better to fantasize about completing them.

The next day, I woke under a cloud: sad, drained, mind blank. After drinking coffee, I got back into bed and cried for no explicable reason.

It felt like I’d put too much of myself on that page. Once again, I was looking for validation in tasks, instead of being open to what a new year might bring.

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Photo by Stijn te Strake on Unsplash

Start simple

Later, my husband and I went for a walk. The sky was bright and the air smelled of wood smoke and bales of sweet straw. We said hello to cows and picked windfall apples. The world began to resume its correct proportions. Cresting another hill, I realized it was time to edit the new year’s goals: sleep, move, eat, love. Everything else will come.

How will you honor yourself this year? 

This is what the Odyssey means

As we bid farewell to 2017 I’d like to share a favourite poem: ‘Trouble’ by Jack Gilbert,  and some snapshots.

Trouble | Jack Gilbert

That is what the Odyssey means.
Love can leave you nowhere in New Mexico
raising peacocks for the rest of your life.
The seriously happy heart is a problem.
Not the easy excitement, but summer
in the Mediterranean mixed with
the rain and bitter cold of February
on the Riviera, everything on fire
in the violent winds. The pregnant heart
is driven to hopes that are the wrong
size for this world. Love is always
disturbing in the heavenly kingdom.
Eden cannot manage so much ambition.
The kids ran from all over the piazza
yelling and pointing and jeering
at the young Saint Chrysostom
standing dazed in the church doorway
with the shining around his mouth
where the Madonna had kissed him.

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New Year Resolution

My resolution for 2016…

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“To guard what is your own. Not to claim what is another’s. To use what is given you. Not to long for anything if it be not given. If anything be taken away to give it up at once and without a struggle, with gratitude for the time you have enjoyed it”

~Epictetus

Poetry Challenge – East Coker by TS Eliot

Kat & I

Kat & I

Nobel Peace laureate and Burmese democracy campaigner Aung San Suu Kyi spent over 20 years under house arrest. She says that one of the things that kept her together was memorising poetry. Once it’s in your head, she added, nobody can take it away from you. Thinking about that inspired me to set myself a poetry challenge: memorise one poem a month during 2015.

That will give me a stock of a dozen poems to carry with me everywhere, always.

For January I’ve chosen a portion of ‘East Coker’ from TS Eliot’s Four Quartets. My dear friend Kat introduced me to this poem a few years ago and it has become deeply rooted in my psychic landscape, both for itself and because it reminds me of how blessed I am by her friendship. This is for you my love!


East Coker

So here I am, in the middle way, having had twenty years—
Twenty years largely wasted, the years of l’entre deux guerres
Trying to learn to use words, and every attempt
Is a wholly new start, and a different kind of failure
Because one has only learnt to get the better of words
For the thing one no longer has to say, or the way in which
One is no longer disposed to say it. And so each venture
Is a new beginning, a raid on the inarticulate
With shabby equipment always deteriorating
In the general mess of imprecision of feeling,
Undisciplined squads of emotion. And what there is to conquer
By strength and submission, has already been discovered
Once or twice, or several times, by men whom one cannot hope
To emulate—but there is no competition—
There is only the fight to recover what has been lost
And found and lost again and again: and now, under conditions
That seem unpropitious. But perhaps neither gain nor loss.
For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.
There is a time for the evening under starlight,
A time for the evening under lamplight
(The evening with the photograph album).
Love is most nearly itself
When here and now cease to matter.

Old men ought to be explorers
Here and there does not matter
We must be still and still moving
Into another intensity
For a further union, a deeper communion
Through the dark cold and empty desolation,
The wave cry, the wind cry, the vast waters
Of the petrel and the porpoise. In my end is my beginning.

The Clear Midnight – Happy New Year!

Walt Whitman, to start your 2015 right. Happy new year!
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The Clear Midnight

This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the
lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the
themes though lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.