Cool Tools: The Steal Like an Artist Journal

The Steal Like an Artist Journal by Austin CleonJoyous Paradox readers know that two of my favorite tools for caregiver wellbeing are creative self-expression and comic relief. Writer Austin Kleon’s new Steal Like an Artist Journal: A Notebook for Creative Kleptomaniacs offers us ample room for both. This graphical playground-in-a-book is packed with prompts for comic as well as serious journal entries. Take it with you and write, sketch, doodle, improvise away!

Today, I’m sharing a pair of entries from my journal with you. My choice of theme: cats vs. dogs. Which tip jars would get your money if you saw them on your favorite coffee shop’s counter? Check out Instagram for more #stealjournal photos.

Barista Tip Jar Page

Steal Like an Artist Journal Tip Jar Page

Barista Tip Jar page from Austin Kleon’s Steal Like an Artist Journal. Today’s theme: cats vs. dogs.

Tip Jar Sketch Page

Tip Jar Heart #1 by Mary Ann Barton

Mary Ann’s Tip Jar Sketch Page offers an expanded version of her Barista Tip Jar page from Austin Kleon’s Steal Like an Artist Journal. What gets your heartfelt vote? Cats, dogs, gerbils, or budgies?

 

 

How Science Can Help You Stick to Your Goals

Editor’s note: Happify is a light-hearted but science-based online resource for games and activities to boost happiness. You might enjoy playing some of these educational games yourself, or trying them out with your dad, your grandmother, or someone else you love. Happify’s new infographic, shown below, bills itself as “17 science-backed secrets to achieving your goals.” Let me know what you think. — MAB

Here's How Science Can Help You Stick to Your Goals

Hyperbole and the Long Winter Walk

Once upon a time, in a small log house at the end of a long lane, there lived a dog named Hyperbole.

Whenever his friend Edward would come driving down the long lane to visit him, Hyperbole would bounce and bark and run around in circles. His ears would flap and his brown eyes would shine. His big black nose would shine, too, in that pixelated way dogs’ noses shine when they are moist with enthusiasm.

Now, on one particularly frosty winter day, a day close to Christmas and Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, when snow had fallen on the little log house and melted in the ruts of the bumpy lane and frozen again, so the ice cracked and crunched under your boots when you walked up the lane to check for mail in the mailbox, on this particular winter day Edward came driving up the lane and crunched to a stop beside the log house.

“Oh boy, oh boy, bark, bark, bark!” said Hyperbole as he ran in circles and sniffed and snuffled and bounced around his friend Edward.

“Let’s go for a walk in the woods, Hype,” Edward said. “But first, I have a Secret Package to carry inside and put away for later.”

“Oh boy, oh boy, bark, bark, bark!” said Hyperbole. “Can we have the Secret Package now? Can we have it now?”

“Have you checked the mailbox yet today, Hyper?” asked Edward, who really wanted the Secret Package to be a surprise.

“Not yet, not yet, but I’ll go see,” said Hyperbole. He bounced and ran around in circles a few times, and then shambled down the long lane, sniffing and whuffling at the interesting repositories of smells along the way, such as old cattail stalks that other animals had peed on, and a muskrat’s tracks in old snow that had thawed before the muskrat walked across it and then frozen afterwards.

As soon as Hyperbole was out of sight, Edward carried the Secret Package into the kitchen, where he unpacked it hastily while keeping an ear cocked for Hyperbole returning. He put some of the items from the Secret Package in the refrigerator, and then, glancing over his shoulder to make sure nobody was looking, he put the rest of the items in the cupboard, high up on the top shelf.

“Whuff! I’m back, I’m back,” announced Hyperbole, just as Edward shut the cupboard door. Hyperbole’s voice was somewhat muffled by the mail he was holding in his jaws, but when he had dropped the mail on the table and Edward had wiped off the drool with the sleeve of his jacket, the dog’s voice rang clear as a bell again.

“Anything for me, for me?” asked Hyperbole.

They pawed through the mail looking for Christmas cards from Edward’s nieces, Jasmine and Dakota and Cheyanne, but there weren’t any Christmas cards yet, just L.L. Bean catalogs and fundraising letters and bills.

Finally, Hyperbole and Edward took a really long, long, walk
run
bark
bounce
circle
sniff
pee-on-a-tree
scrape-the-snow
walk
run
bark
bounce
through the woods.

Hyperbole and Edward walked all the way up one side of the mountain, past the pine trees and the hemlocks. They passed the old foundation stones where lilacs bloom in the spring. They passed the place where last time they saw bear tracks (extra-long sniffing here).

Then the two friends came back down the mountain, with a few detours after squirrels (Hyperbole), and a few pauses for drinks of cold, cold, well water from a BPA-free water bottle (Edward), and fur that was cold on the top and warm next to the skin (Hyperbole), and frosty cheeks and a red nose (Edward), and puffs of breath visible in the cold air (both of them), and stretched trapezius muscles in the shoulder (both), and joy in the heart (both, for sure).

Now, by the time the two friends got back home, Hyperbole had forgotten all about the surprise. Secret Package? What Secret Package? He trotted over to his water dish and gulped and guzzled the water until his thirst was slaked. Then he curled up in his dog bed next to the wood stove and tucked his nose under the plume of his tail and slept.

Perhaps Hyperbole dreamed, for every once in a while his muzzle quivered or his front paws twitched.

As he slept, I wonder if Hyperbole heard, dimly, the squawk of the squeaky hinge on the cupboard door, or the whump of the refrigerator door closing, or the hiss of water running in the sink.

Or perhaps he smelled, in his sleep, the deep and glorious smell of onions frying in an old and experienced cast iron skillet, and the brown smell of floured chunks of beef tossed into hot oil, where they sizzled, minute by minute by minute, the brownness crisping and crusting and deepening until, at just the right moment, Edward scraped under the browning beef chunks with a spatula and flipped them to brown on the other side.

But I will tell you that by the time Edward’s Surprise Beef Stew was finished cooking, Hyperbole did hear the clink of knives and forks on the table.

Hyperbole woke up with a start.

“Whuff?” he said. “Whuff?”

“Let’s eat!” said Edward.

“Oh boy, oh boy, beef stew! Bark, bark, bark!” said Hyperbole, for beef stew was his very favorite dinner in the whole wide world. And he bounced into his chair at the table and fell upon his portion like a ravenous wolf at the end of a very long winter day.

And when the two friends had polished off two huge bowls of stew each, they stacked their dishes in a sinkful of hot and soapy water. Hyperbole went out briefly in the cold to sniff around the woodpile and pee one last time, while Edward scrubbed the skillet and blotted it with a towel and wiped it with oil and set it on the stove to dry.

Then Edward shoved two more logs into the wood stove. He clinked the stove door shut and adjusted the draft so the fire burned brightly. The stove ticked softly in the peaceful, after-dinner silence. The two friends curled up together on the sofa and slept and slept and slept. And what they dreamed about, sleeping in that warm log house at the end of a long lane under the bright and icy stars, I will leave you to imagine for yourself.

The End

Hyperbole_Ornament_01_f7f7f7Background

With thanks to my son Edward for walks in all seasons; to Dorothy, for the hospitality of her log house in East Lempster, NH; and to the writers, illustrators, and publishers of all my favorite children’s books, especially The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame, for their stories. — MAB

Self-Caring: What I Think About the Funnel of Love

The Foundations of Well-Being, “a year of growing good in your brain and in your life,” begins with four video talks and experiential exercises about self-caring from neuropsychologist Rick Hanson, Ph.D.

I think of Rick’s self-caring visualizations as a funnel of love. You pour kindness and love into yourself, your mind and heart, which steadies you. Then you can pour out kindness to others around you, as in my illustration below.

The Funnel of Love by Mary Ann Barton

“All beings deserve decency and care — including you.”

When you think about it, caring for yourself is a matter of ethics as well as utility. As Rick puts it in his video on Befriending Yourself,  “All beings deserve decency and care — including you.”

“You know,” he continues, “the Golden Rule is a two-way street. We should do unto ourselves what we would do unto others. And many people treat others much better than they treat themselves.”

When I was younger, I took pride in acknowledging my faults. Heaven forbid that someone would point out a flaw I hadn’t noticed in myself!

These days, while I still think it’s important for me to be clear-eyed about my failings, I also think it’s absolutely essential for me to practice treating myself with respect and kindness. I don’t ask myself to succeed all the time. Sometimes the old, draining self-criticisms come rushing back into my mind. But I do practice.

November’s weekly video on mindfulness debuts today, November 4, 2014, at 5 pm Pacific Time. For information on participating, see the Foundations of Well-Being program.

Meanwhile, you can see an excerpt from Rick Hanson’s interview on self-caring with psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach below.

PS: In writing about my experiences as a participant in the Foundations of Well-Being program, I am not receiving any financial compensation from Dr. Rick Hanson or the Foundations program. Feel free to reproduce and share my Funnel of Love poster with others, as long as you include the copyright statement.

 

Gratitude Series, 3/17/2013

3/11/2013: I am grateful for today’s email from Amazon.com that says my video camera has been shipped. With this new tool, I hope to film some short pieces about caregiving and self-care for you to see here on the Joyous Paradox blog.

3/12/2013: I am grateful for my son Edward, who turns 33 years old today. Dear Edward, I remember hearing your first cry, and then a nurse calling out “Ten pounds, three ounces!” as she placed you on the scale in the delivery room.

3/13/2013: I am grateful for Paul Simon’s song “So Beautiful or So What.” At age 70, he sings, “I know life is what you make of it/ So beautiful or so what.”

3/14/2013: I am grateful for the color green, which I look forward to seeing more of as Spring advances in New England. You can feast your eyes on the subtle variations of green grasses in two recent posts that feature a photograph and a short, haiku-like poem that I wrote to accompany it. “Rest” was inspired by a photo of grasses in the wind from the US Fish and Wildlife Service, while “Rest #2” centers on a photo of an olive grove by Jared Gulian of Moon over Martinborough, a New Zealand blog.

3/15/2013: I am grateful for listing Joyous Paradox on Technorati.com, the huge blog directory site that chronicles the State of the Blogosphere and lists 1,323,896 blogs. Hmmm…did I ever think I was one in a million?

3/16/2013: I am grateful for swimming at Beede Swim & Fitness Center, a facility run by the town of Concord, MA, that offers a crystal-clear lap pool, deep water diving pool, warm water therapy pool, and children’s play pool. Today I did my standard 3 sets of 4 laps each.

3/17/2013: I am grateful for this morning’s healing conversation with a friend during the coffee hour after church. Isn’t it great when good things happen because you took a chance and shared your truth?