Susan Palmer's Exquisite Now

Stuff gets done here

recent posts

  • Power of self knowledge

    Every year when November rolls around, I have this internal argument that goes like this: I will jump in and do “National Novel Writing Month.” I will finish my novel. Sure I have 40,000 or 60,000 words to go but no problem! I can do it. Then the other side of my brain, says, Hold on there, sister. When it comes to writing you’re a walker, not a sprinter. I am ever-so-slightly oriented toward procrastination and pondering NaNoWriMo always gives me this energy jolt of thinking I can make up for time lost to day-dreaming, dancing, drawing and other things that keep me from the keyboard. I have done NaNoWriMo at least once. I have started NaNoWriMo at least twice. I would not dissuade others from trying it, and it is especially useful for those who struggle to get anything down on the page. But I do better mentally as the tortoise not the hare. And I am happily plodding along with my current project. This month, I wrote 5,000 words. I did not have the adrenaline rush that can come with a massive word-dump. But I also had some great thinking time. There are many people extolling the virtue of more deliberative processes (examples here and here). Slow work is my current comfort zone. So if you are someone who got buzzed on NaNoWriMo but didn’t get as far as you dreamed you would, take a moment to be grateful for the work you did do. Add a little cheery note to your “got done” list and keep on keepin’ on.

  • Fresh eyes, new insights

    Teasel seeds sprouting

    I’ve probably seen teasel seed heads in the fall for decades when I’m out walking. But last week was the first time I noticed the tiny seeds actually sprouting on the spiky plant even though I’ve walked along this meadow in all seasons for many years. Details, details. Beginner’s mind.

  • Dads and daughters

    I had a dream about my dad last night. In the dream he was visiting us and he sat down at the piano and banged out a wonderful something classical, which was very unlike my dad since he was more of a boogie woogie dude at the ivories. As I was listening to him, it dawned on me that my mother would love to see him and I jumped up to get my laptop so I could Zoom her in. And then the dream dissipated and I woke up. My lovely dad, Byron Palmer, passed four years ago. This is the second time I’ve dreamed of him in a dream that involved Zoom. In the first dream, he and I were on Zoom and I was explaining to him that I couldn’t go visit mom in Canada because of the pandemic and he was telling me it was OK and that he understood. In that dream, Zoom had this ability to allow hugs and my dad and I had a lovely hug. We both knew it was a simulated experience of a hug, that it wasn’t real, and we were both impressed that technology had come so far. This picture is me dancing with my dad at my parents’ 50th wedding anniversary. That man could dance. And he could sing. But among his most wonderful traits was a full-throated laugh that made everyone around him smile and then start laughing too.