• About Judith A. Ross

Shifting Gears

Shifting Gears

Category Archives: health

I Vote for Clean Air

31 Monday Oct 2016

Posted by judithar321 in environment, health, politics

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Clean Air Moms Action, Moms Clean Air Force

I registered to vote in Massachusetts nearly 40 years ago, and I’ve cast my ballot in a voting booth there ever since. So when we moved to Portland, Oregon this month, registering to vote was at the top of my to-do list. The stakes are so high and far-reaching this year —especially when you factor in the fate of our planet — that the possibility of NOT voting is unthinkable.

As  Dominique Browning, senior director of Moms Clean Air Force points out, “ We have a choice for president that is going to influence our lives, and our children’s lives, and our grandchildren’s lives…”

Fortunately, my new state not only makes it easy to register, its system of voting by mail allows citizens to focus on candidates and issues rather than on simply getting to the polls.

My ballot arrived last week and I was determined to wield my voting power with laser-like precision to ensure that Oregon continues to do its part in protecting our environment. This meant going beyond my (obvious) choice for president to learn about the positions of down-ballot candidates, and the implications of local ballot initiatives.

A post about ballot measures on the Oregon Environmental Council’s (OEC)  website was particularly informative. I spoke to its author, OEC’s Health Outreach Director,  Jen Coleman, about why voting “yes” to affordable homes, for example, would also help improve air quality in Portland. She explained,

To have healthy people, we need healthy places for them to live. Our hot spots of air pollution in Portland are linked to low income and minority communities.

Therefore, she wrote in her post,

Affordable housing is integral to meeting environmental goals. High housing prices have pushed lower-income residents out to the edges of urban centers where there are fewer transportation choices. The closer people can live to school and work and accessible transit, the less they need to drive—and less driving results in cleaner air and safer streets.

I also asked Jen about assessing local candidates’ commitment to supporting clean air in my new state. While she couldn’t tell me how to vote, she advised me to read the voters’ handbook. In addition to descriptions of candidates and ballot measures, it includes arguments for and against, as well as endorsements, for each. As she said,

The handbook that comes with your ballot is pretty amazing. Look at those recommendations and base your vote on the assessment of those you trust. A tiny race can make a huge difference in how we use our resources.

With that in mind, my husband and I sat across from each other at our dining room table last night and paged through the handbook as we marked our ballots.

img_3590

This afternoon, we’ll send them on their way, confident that our votes  will have an impact that reaches beyond our new hometown and for generations to come.

Now, dear readers, it’s your turn. Please, take the pledge.

PROMISE TO VOTE!

“This post was produced with support from Clean Air Moms Action. All opinions are, of course, my own.”

Advertisement

Having a Senior Moment? Blame Air Pollution

14 Tuesday Jul 2015

Posted by judithar321 in aging, environment, health

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

aging, air pollution, climate change, MomsCleanAirForce

me2

For weeks now, I’ve been trying to recall the name of a landscape architect I worked with a few years ago. I’ve remembered her first name, but her last name continues to elude me, yet I’m sure it’s there — lurking somewhere within the deepest, tallest stacks of my brain’s library.

An aging brain sometimes takes longer to retrieve certain information than it once did. Like many people over the age of 55, my brain’s agility is often, well…on my mind. So when I saw this recent headline in the New York Times, “Pollution May Age the Brain,” I sat up and took notice.

(Read more ….)

Forest Bathing

02 Thursday Jul 2015

Posted by judithar321 in adult children, environment, health, inspiration, marriage, work

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

forest bathing, Marc Maron, President Obama, Slow Love Life, Terry Gross

FBathing2

A friend recently sent me this link to an article about “forest bathing,” which says,

This Japanese concept revolves around a deceptively simple practice: quietly walking and exploring, with a mind deliberately intent on – and all senses keenly open to – every sound, scent, color and “feel” of the forest, in all its buzzing bio-diversity.

Of course, readers of my blog know that I have been doing this for years – but not so much recently. It has become so rare that I clearly remember the last time  I let the forest feed my soul.

Time when I am truly alone and surrounded by silence has become a precious commodity. Not just for me, I suspect, but for many of us. We all need time to just sit with our thoughts and our emotions. Time when we are truly “present.”

How often are our minds and bodies in the same place? For a dreamer like me, not often enough and over the past few weeks I have been especially distracted. Just the other afternoon, my body was sitting on the deck eating lunch with my husband, while my brain was back at my computer, parsing through an editing issue for work. When he interrupted my train of thought with a question, I snapped at him.

Forest bathing, opening ourselves to feel the gentle breezes, and fully take in the smells and sounds around us can also teach us to be more present in other parts of our lives. It’s a habit we all need to cultivate.

still life with flowers

Recently, my son urged us to listen to comedian Marc Maron’s podcast, WTF. In listening to Maron interview people such as NPR’s Terry Gross and President Obama, I noticed how “present” both he and his subjects were throughout the entire conversation. Being that focused enabled both parties to listen, hear what the other person was saying, and then respond thoughtfully—unearthing some never-heard-before information in the process.

Uncovering new information, finding insight where you don’t expect it, those all can result when we are fully present. For example, one of the things that the leader of the free world told Maron struck a chord deep within me — and it wasn’t a comment about foreign policy.

He said that because his father wasn’t around when he was growing up, being a good father to his daughters is one of his top priorities. Parental absence left a big hole in my life—particularly my adult life. When Obama said that, I realized that living with that void is why being the mother of two adult sons has been both wrenching and joyous. It is a relationship that I can never take for granted and, more significantly, one that I don’t have a blueprint for.

This summer I have several projects going on, but as I turn my attention to each I am going to keep the image of “forest bathing” in mind — even when I am not walking in the woods.

It’s time for a reset.

reset

Signs of Spring

12 Sunday Apr 2015

Posted by judithar321 in aging, environment, health, inspiration, meditation

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

daffodils, narcissus, spring, spring peepers

signs of spring

It is an April evening sometime in the past, and I am standing outside on my back deck. The air is chilly, but it has lost much of winter’s cutting edge. As the light slowly fades, I am suddenly awash in waves of sound. It is the high-pitched trilling of the spring peepers.

Hallelujah, spring is here!

I’m a spring baby. My March 21st birthday falls either on or adjacent to the official first day of spring. But living in New England, I scoff at those who believe in Punxsutawney Phil’s February prediction, or even the date on the calendar. Spring’s arrival is much later and more nuanced than all of that.

In fact, long, hard experience tells me that waking up on my birthday means I’ll be facing another 4-6 weeks of winter. It often isn’t until late April or even early May that I can bear to shed the layers of wool, fleece, and cashmere that protect my neck, hands, and ankles from cold, outdoor air.

When spring finally does arrive, the first buds appear slowly, almost reluctantly, until they gradually gain momentum and then, like the peepers’ loud and insistent declaration, the season asserts itself all at once in a flush of cheery, Easter egg colors.

The earliest signs of spring have gained a more personal meaning over the twenty odd years I’ve lived in my house just west of Boston. Their yearly return has become a reminder of my own resilience.

It begins with the daffodils. When we first moved here, they were far from my favorite flower. Yet I’d dutifully buy several bunches of the straight, yellow-tipped stalks when they arrived at the office each spring during the American Cancer Society’s annual campaign.

I’d plunge them into a vase of water, set them on my desk, and pretty soon the buds would open into daffy yellow schnozzes that reminded me of mole snouts, or some exotic creature from Down Under.

Then, one September I bought some narcissus bulbs — their more restrained colors and less prominent proboscises made them seem more sophisticated than the lowly daffodil. I planted them alongside a patch of day lilies and promptly forgot about them.

That winter, I had a health scare that required an unexpected medical intervention in late March. A few weeks later, I noticed the dark green stalks of narcissus pushing up through the frosty soil. “Welcome to the other side,” they seemed to say. My shoulders relaxed and for the first time in many weeks, I believed that I’d be okay.

Six years later, there was another medical procedure — this time a surgery in early December, scheduled months in advance. Remembering how much the last batch of bulbs had meant to me, I bought an even bigger bag that fall, and planted them under a willow tree in full view of the kitchen window. The act was a promise to myself. I would make it through the tough winter to come and when the plants emerged from the ground, I’d be here to welcome them.

Eight years later, it is April again. A few weeks ago, I celebrated my 60th birthday, and right now I am standing outside on my back deck. Until just recently, the yard was knee-deep in snow. Today, however, I can see clumps of green shoots around the base of the old willow tree, and I strain my ears, eagerly listening for the opening notes of the peepers’ joyful chorus.

When I hear it, I’ll know. Spring is here.

daffssun

This post was written in response to An April Invitation at Women’s Voices for Change.

Fighting for the Light

11 Tuesday Nov 2014

Posted by judithar321 in environment, health, meditation, politics

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

2014 election

espalier_long

Last week we had an election. The results mean that those of us who view things like clean air and health care as basic rights are going to have to work harder and speak more loudly and clearly than we ever have before.

espalier_closeup

We have to wedge ourselves into the cracks, take root, and push through the wall of short-sighted self-interest.

breakingfree

Last week’s election results were dispiriting, but we can’t give up, we have to get through to the other side of that wall, and climb that fence.

Fence

Until we can light it up from the inside out.

lit from within

The Mindless Mindfulness of Travel

28 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by judithar321 in friendship, health, inspiration, marriage, mid-life transition, pets, travel

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

Ellen Langer, mindfulness, Portland Oregon

fishbowl

Ever since our January trip to California, we’ve been talking about returning to the west coast for a longer stay. We think we might like to live there. At first, we were talking about the Bay Area. As I’ve said, many times, I want to live in a place where there are cafes, museums, and shops all accessible by foot or on public transportation. How lovely it would be, for example, to walk home, filled with good food, after a meal at our favorite neighborhood restaurant.

But we also want nature to be within reach (I’m not giving up the car just yet) — and it has to be a place we can comfortably afford. For all of those reasons, we set our sites on a mini-sabbatical in Portland, Oregon, with possible side trips to Seattle, British Columbia, and San Francisco. And, we wanted to drive because if we were to gain any sense at all of what daily life would be like in a new place, then we couldn’t leave behind someone who is an integral part of that daily life.

traveler

Karina in travel mode: her bed was wedged on the floor behind the driver’s seat.

After months of talking and planning, things fell into place at the end of July. We had a place to stay in Portland, and after much looking and financial strategizing, we also had a van that would reliably transport us there—and back—and that could serve as Paul’s work vehicle upon our return.

And so, on August 21, we set out, stopping in Michigan that first weekend for a family wedding.

Witness

After we left Michigan, my mind, which had been focused on wedding-related logistics, suddenly sat up and took notice. The clouds overhead and endless sky when we hit Minnesota were an ongoing source of fascination.

Once we’d arrived at our first stop in Portland, just sitting on the front porch was entertaining. There were kids going by on bikes and skateboards, older people walking their dogs, and Karina found the parade of neighborhood cats, who would sun themselves under our car, especially riveting.

Keeping tabs

Our daily walk through the park at the end of the street, toward a dog park that bordered the Willamette River felt special.

Sellwood_Park

theWillamette

There were also dinners out at places right in the neighborhood, and several cups of coffee at cafes with outdoor seating where our four-footed companion was the subject of much admiration. Karina lost some of her shyness on this trip.

But what I love most about traveling—and what I miss now that we have returned—was that I took the time to notice my surroundings and activities. The small, daily routines, like making my morning tea in an unfamiliar kitchen, were more satisfying because of that.

I gave things my full attention in a way I do not when I’m at home. In fact, just the other morning, I found myself dashing from the kitchen to my computer, and then back, first when my tea water boiled, and then again when a timer went off. Now that I am ensconced in familiar surroundings, I seem to have switched over to autopilot as automatically as I switched to full awareness while traveling.

Then last week I heard part of an interview with Ellen Langer, a professor of psychology at Harvard. The topic was mindfulness, which the announcer defined as “the simple act of noticing new things.” And, according to Langer,

 When you notice new things, you come to notice that you didn’t know what you thought you did, as well as you did. Everything is always changing. By noticing new things about the familiar, it becomes interesting again.

This mind-set, she went on to say, was good for fighting more than just boredom, it can also impact our health** and enable us to view in a new way someone whose behavior troubles us.

In fact, a few years ago, an advisor gave me similar advice, suggesting that I just sit back and “observe” someone who had become a source of distress. As Langer notes in this interview, when I adopted the observer’s mind-set, I realized what was really driving this person, and soon exchanged my upset for empathy.

Learning to “observe” so that you can respond, rather than react, to other people is another whole conversation. To learn more about that, you can listen to the entire interview here.

Right now, I want to tackle the bit about noticing. Before we left for the trip in late August, boredom with our local scenery had taken root. I felt as though I was seeing the same old things over and over again. When we returned in early October, many things did seem new. New England was in the middle of a gorgeous autumn, which no matter how jaded you are, is pretty hard to overlook.

For example, I noticed these coppery leaves while with a friend who was gathering leaves for her son’s after-school project. Adopting a child’s point of view definitely helps adults view their surroundings with fresh eyes.

copperIt’s also hard not to notice the fall colors reflected on a pond we pass on one of our regular morning walks.

water colors

Water-colors.

last swim

Now that it’s getting colder and darker, I will have to work especially hard to cloak myself in the observer’s mind-set I wore so mindlessly during our travels. So far, the extra effort seems to be working.

While the clouds here don’t hang suspended mid-sky as they do out west, they have their own beauty when hovering over a local farmer’s fields.

green fields

And this circle of farm machinery provides a whimsical contrast to the straight-edged fields beyond.

farm equipment

There were many things I sensed and felt during our six weeks away that can’t and won’t be contained in my snapshots. There’s that light-as-air feeling I got when the daily cares and worries of home faded from my consciousness as we racked up the miles; the friendly, welcoming attitude of the people we met in Portland; the rush of memories I felt when I dove into the frigid waters of a lake in British Columbia; and the satisfaction of an intense hunger quenched by a warming bowl of Pho eaten in a Vietnamese restaurant off the beaten track in Iowa on a dreary, windswept day.

These experiences are worth noticing. They are worth holding on to. And they are worth adding to. On a chilly afternoon a few days after we’d returned home, I sat in my kitchen and watched my two fellow travelers carefully take note of our back yard under a darkening sky. There was love in their looking and noticing, just as there was in mine.

backyard1backyard2backyard 2abackyard 3backyard 4

****

**Coincidentally, (or perhaps not) Langer was the focus of an article in this past Sunday’s New York Times Magazine about using a mindful mind-set to offset aging and possibly illness. To read an interesting analysis of that piece, read D.A. Wolf’s take on it in Daily Plate of Crazy.

 

 

 

 

 

Postcards from Home

25 Friday Jul 2014

Posted by judithar321 in environment, health, inspiration, pets

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

morning walk, nature, organic food

Today while swimming laps in the pool, I began thinking about postcards. Because I didn’t write to her at all the first summer I went to overnight camp, the following year my mother tucked seven plain manila postcards that she addressed and stamped into my foot locker. My friend Martha used to send me a postcard while on her yearly June vacation. I loved getting her missives from Greece or Spain. But, alas, like Martha’s free time (she’s a mom now), postcards have gone the way of most hand-written communications, and become a rare and precious thing.

While I’m not filling up anyone’s mailbox myself this summer, below are a few snapshots — postcards from home — that chronicle my summer so far.

Logs_ferns

The ferns on our morning walks have been exceptionally beautiful this year.

These "ghost flowers" or "Indian pipes" added an air mystery, and were difficult to capture  In fact,

These “ghost flowers” or “Indian pipes” were a rare find and it was difficult to capture their eerie presence with shaky hands.

 

And the local fungus reminds me of an old-fashioned ruffled collar.

A local fungus provided an air of ruffled formality.

We’ve had some summer visitors.

Kola and Moxie joined us for the 4th....

Moxie and Kola dropped in for the 4th….

We’ve been enjoying lots of healthy goodies from our local organic farm.

And Karina makes every walk an adventure — especially given her new talent for finding muddy waters to roll in. On this day, however, she was her clean, dainty self.

More postcards and at least one big adventure to come.

 

May Is Clean Air Month

20 Tuesday May 2014

Posted by judithar321 in environment, health

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Dominique Browning, Moms Clean Air Force, Years of Living Dangerously

May is Clean Air Month, and when Women’s Voices for Change asked me to profile Dominique Browning, co-founder and Senior Director of Moms Clean Air Force, I was more than happy to do so.

MomsShirt

I’ve also been busy covering Showtime’s new series on climate change, “Years of Living Dangerously.” You can watch episode one online here, and read my posts about it here.

As Dominique told me,

Climate change is an overwhelming, unhappy subject, but it’s really important to understand that we can beat this—there are answers.

So, in honor of Clean Air Month, please check out, “Dominique Browning: Making a Difference in the Air We Breathe.” And then, do something important for all of us and support limits on carbon pollution.  

Thank you!

Through Words and Cake, a Writer Lives On

02 Wednesday Apr 2014

Posted by judithar321 in books, friendship, health, inspiration, writing

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

baking, chocolate cake, cooking, eating, Food & Fiction, Laurie Colwin

 

cake

My friend Jane, who blogs at Food & Fiction, is one of my most helpful kitchen advisors. Although we share meals several times a year in real life, our time together at the stove has always been virtual. Many of Jane’s recipes have become my go-to source when I want to put something delicious, healthy, and not-too-complicated on the table.

So it makes sense that Jane shared this New York Times article about Laurie Colwin on her Facebook feed, because it suggests that Laurie’s non-fussy recipes and conversational style were a precursor to food bloggers like herself.

Like Jane, Laurie’s friendly, matter-of-fact voice is also in my ear from time to time when I’m working in the kitchen. Her recipe for a simple chocolate cake (pictured above) is my hands-down favorite.

I wrote about Laurie and her chocolate cake a few years ago on my blog at Open Salon. My literary tastes have changed over time, and her novels may no longer hold my interest the way they did when I read them 20 years ago under extreme circumstances, but I’ve never lost my taste for that cake. The recipe is included in my original post, reprinted below.

Through Words and Cake, a Writer Lives On

 October 23, 2010

“You don’t feed me enough,” I joked to my husband last night as my stomach loudly and persistently announced itself. Apparently, the dinner of homemade soup and bread I’d made wasn’t enough. We needed dessert.

“Karen Edwards’s Version of Buttermilk Cocoa Cake” from, More Home Cooking: A Writer Returns to the Kitchen by Laurie Colwin is my go-to recipe when I want something quick and chocolatey.

According to Colwin,

“It is hard to encapsulate the virtuosities of this cake. It is fast, easy, and scrumptious. It has a velvety, powdery feel – the result of all that cocoa. It is not so horribly bad for you, because you use buttermilk, which is relatively low in fat, and cocoa powder is defatted anyway. Furthermore, it keeps like a dream and tastes even better after a few days.”

I became a Laurie Colwin fan almost 20 years ago while undergoing chemotherapy. My hair was falling out and I was nauseous and exhausted. For the first time ever, it was difficult to find solace in reading — I couldn’t focus.

Then my friend Julia gave me one of Colwin’s books. Her books held my attention. I cared deeply about her characters, and her tales about family life, which I, too, was engaged in, were happy ones. I needed upbeat stories — sadness and angst were for real life.

When I reported all of this to Julia, she responded, “Unfortunately, Laurie’s life wasn’t so happy. She died suddenly at a young age.” Not only that, she had left a young daughter behind.

All these years later, my story is the happy one. My children, who were aged eight and ten when I was diagnosed, are now adults living on their own.  My husband and I are both active and healthy, and we still share a special spark.

So now when I bite into that buttermilk cocoa cake, I silently raise a glass to Laurie Colwin. Her life wasn’t nearly long enough, but I am grateful for the gifts she left behind.

Here is the recipe as it appears in More Home Cooking.

Karen Edwards’s Version of Buttermilk Cocoa Cake
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. and butter and flour a 9- by 2-inch round cake pan.

2. Mix together 1 3/4 cups flour, 3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder, 1 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon baking soda, and 1/4 teaspoon salt.

3. To these ingredients add 1 cup buttermilk, 1/2 cup vegetable oil or melted butter, and 2 teaspoons vanilla. Mix.

4. Turn the batter into the pan, bake the cake in the middle of the oven for 30 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean, and let it cool for 5 minutes before turning it out of the pan.

 

Cozy

26 Tuesday Nov 2013

Posted by judithar321 in adult children, books, health, inspiration, mid-life transition, travel

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

Thanksgiving

Anniversary Tulips

Sunday’s wind was ferocious, especially with temperatures well below freezing. It was a good day to stay home, drink tea, read books, and just be quiet.

With daylight so fleeting, it can be a melancholy time of year. In fact, that sad, wistful feeling seems to be making the rounds. All we can do is force ourselves out into the air and remember to take time to savor the small joys of life.

Go ahead, live dangerously, put a little whole milk or even cream in that tea! The extra calories will keep you warm during this dark time.

I wish all of my readers and friends a cozy Thanksgiving. Give your beloveds extra hugs if they are with you.

And to those of you in far-flung places, know that you are missed, and that your place at the table is open and set for your return.

 

← Older posts
A blog about travels near and far, daily life, and issues that are bigger than all of us.

Recent Posts

  • Intentions
  • From Concord to Concordia: A Late-Life Migration
  • Dear Mr. President, Please Don’t Extinguish My Energy Star
  • I Vote for Clean Air
  • Love at Last

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 385 other subscribers

Blogroll

  • 3191 Miles Apart
  • 66 Square Feet
  • Athenas Head
  • econesting
  • Food and Fiction
  • Lost in Arles
  • Second Lives Club
  • Slow Love Life

Places my work appears

  • Center for Effective Philanthropy
  • Harvard Business Publishing
  • Moms Clean Air Force
  • Talking Writing
  • Women's Voices for Change

Archives

  • August 2017
  • May 2017
  • March 2017
  • October 2016
  • February 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012

Categories

  • adult children
  • aging
  • art
  • books
  • discipline
  • environment
  • friendship
  • health
  • inspiration
  • marriage
  • meditation
  • mid-life transition
  • music
  • pets
  • politics
  • travel
  • uncategorized
  • work
  • writing

Twitter

Error: Twitter did not respond. Please wait a few minutes and refresh this page.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • Shifting Gears
    • Join 197 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Shifting Gears
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...