This past weekend was the 40th anniversary of Woodstock and my Saturday morning tweet read -  This Sat 40 years ago I was 15 and driving through Cape Cod with parents listening to Woodstock news reports on car radio.

It only took that 123 character post and the fact that it was a grey and rainy Saturday to leave me with a mantle of sadness; as my mind went back to the August weekend in one of my favorite places, shared with two people that I still miss today. Unlike many writers who like to present themselves as having risen from the dregs of dreadful childhoods, I had a good relationship with my parents. On the surface they may have been stereotypical of the distant English parents; in private they were supportive and loving giving me little fodder for even a mild case of teenage angst.

That evening Chris and I ate pasta, drank wine and caught up on the conversations that we didn’t have time for in the week.  We then watched the movie Defiance. I had originally wanted to rent it because it starred Daniel Craig, who is on my short list of men I would have an affair with but the story proved to be so much more than I expected.

It is a World War II movie that looks at the Holocaust from a unique perspective. Telling the true story of a group of Jews in Eastern Europe who fought back from there home deep in the forest and the Bielski brothers who led them. While not a perfect movie the story itself is remarkable.

Saturday ended with me thinking that the type of person we become is not only the result of the family we are born into but also the time in history. For me is was about being a teenager growing up in the sixties. One thing I realized is that I want to start having the right conversations and asking the pertinent questions. From the hindsight of the person that I am today what talks I would have with my parents!

Relationships must be so much more than mere everyday words. Remember that a really sick friend is not just her disease; part of her still wants to talk about clothes, grumble about her husband and laugh over the funny parts of 30 Rock.  Realizing that a grumpy co-worker or colleague might be troubled by something in her life and responding accordingly. It’s about asking parents and grandparents to share the early years of their lives and seeing how they intertwined with the events of the time.

And ultimately never forgetting that everyone has a story.

For many of us the book that we choose to read at any given time is determined by any number of factors.

It could be seasonal. Summer is the time for the blended and frothy type of book. In the spring and fall I tend to be restless so I like the story to take place somewhere other than North America. Winter is for those big cozy works of historical fiction and memoirs

Then we check our mood, do I need to find myself or lose myself?

Finally, there is the time of day; business books and research are great for day time but by the evening I want something with which to as Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot might say “turn off the little grey cells”.

Age doesn’t really enter into the equation; think of the number of adults reading Harry Potter.

So here we are the summer of ‘09. My Amazon book wish list is pages long and I have groaning piles of yet to be read books, newspaper business sections, Time, Vogue, Marie Claire, O and More magazines in the living room, office and bedroom.

I have just finished My Sister’s Keeper which was no great feat; it is to literature what The Young and the Restless is to PBS. I will say though that the ending was unexpected. Next on my pureed summer book diet is Julie & Julia which led me to Julie Powell’s blog What Could Happen.

In the way of a little brain fiber I am reading three business books that have been recommended to me -

“Coolhunting: Chasing Down the Next Big Thing” Peter Gloor

“Tribes” Seth Godin

“Change Your Questions, Change Your Life: 7 Powerful Tools for Life and Work”
Marilee G. Adams Ph.D.

I cannot end this post on books without mentioning the one literary genre for all seasons and that is a good murder mystery. This past week coincidentally I was exchanging emails with mystery writer Roberta Isleib, who is currently on the other end of  the equation in that she is spending her summer putting the finishing touches on a new book.

No matter what the month is, all that you need to truly enjoy a mystery is a comfortable chair, no one home, a dark night, some fog rolling in, the sound of dogs howling over the moors ……………

We have made the decision to take a week off in August but not go away. A list of day trips to take, new restaurants to try, movies to see, gives our staycation the facade of a good idea. But I am wondering how will this really play out? It seems inevitable that already some home improvement projects are writing themselves onto the list.

As a Life Coach I have learned how to manage having an office at home. I balance in-office clients with remote coaching by using virtually any available media at my disposal. And I like the added benefit that I can sometimes squeeze in a few minutes of The View’s Hot Topics between morning sessions. Although I will take the usual steps to close my practice for that week I am somewhat leary of the fact that my work will be surrounding me in some form or other.

Then there is a bigger picture, that I don’t particularly care for where we live. I am most myself on a bustling city street or by the ocean and the fact that for now I call a rather rural part of Alberta home is difficult for me at the best of times.

I grew up a city girl; the art of hailing taxis and reading French menus was learned at young age. I know the secret of finding community & friends in your own corner of London, Brussels or Toronto. I thrive in the world of bistros, museums & the theater, city parks at lunch time and knowing when & where the best bargains are in otherwise expensive stores.

Living among all these flat fields feels well, claustrophobic. A vacation should include walks by the sea; that takes me into my own personal nirvana. Therefore the sensible decision to stay home this year is also compounding my personal frustration that by midlife I would be living in a place which truly felt like home.

I know that a better attitude might allow for some modicum of success.  Somehow though my psyche and midlife soul are just not feeling this turn of events. I don’t believe that a staycation can offer what a vacation does, I’ll let you know.

In an O magazine article Looking for Stillness author (Riding In Cars With Boys), Beverly Donofrio goes monastery-hopping (her words) and she discovers ‘peace, clarity, connection, grace and a kind of hush’.  At the end of the article she returns to the Nada Hermitage in Colorado “Where you can hear your own bare feet on the floor”.

When was the last time you heard your own bare feet on the floor?

If you are anything like me noise is embedded into your life. I get up, turn on the news so that I can hear what has transpired in the world while I slept.  Feed excited and hungry dogs/cats, water runs, the coffee pot beeps to let me know when the coffee is ready, the toaster dings, my computer says “Good morning, Jill”, a phone rings and the day is underway.

As the hours progress my heels will click on busy pavement or loafers connect with my office’s hardwood but somehow I missed that moment when my bare feet quietly set my life in motion.

….. a new book from a favourite author
….. the effortless ritual of making tea
….. old, comfy slippers on a cold winters’ morning
….. that bowl of pasta or home made soup when your soul is world weary

We all need those things that are comforting to us; they provide consistency and calmness in what can often be an overly stimulating existence.

Time spent with old friends is one of the ultimates in social comforts.  This past weekend we met up with just such friends in Banff to celebrate husband’s birthday. The familiarity of knowing each others lives, the flow of easy conversation and laughter were truly relaxing.

And sometimes comfort is only meant to be with us for a specific interval. Many years ago we bought a house in BC. While my girlfriend and I were sitting outside, taking a break from the pre-move cleaning this rather scruffy, wild looking young black cat emerged from the field behind the house. He was wary but hungry and the only thing that we had with us was water and a box of Ritz crackers. With time the newly named Ritz allowed himself to become a house cat. He grew into a sleek and handsome adult with a sweet and uncomplicated nature.  Sadly, 14 years later we have just put this beautiful boy to sleep. Old age, liver problems and a tumour under his neck all caught up with him.

His spirit is again free to roam the fields. However in the evening I miss his restful presence curled up on my lap until I go to bed.

In between the self-effacing attempts at humour and the ambiguous medical reports is a woman in menopause. I have used humour myself but the truth is, it is not all that funny.  No woman enjoys the  extreme mood swings, muddied thinking, hot flashes, and assorted other symptoms that ebb and flow over a span of years. Not to mention the affect that fluctuating hormones is having on our intimate relationships.

I am not asking for drugs, quite the contrary if you look in my medicine cabinet you would die from boredom.  There is a jar of Vicks, pills for my Afib and some Bufferin.
It is the fact that nine years into the 21st century I would have expected more in the way of unbiased research and possible options.

Hormone therapy has been a roller coaster of benefits vs risks since the ‘60s this all culminated in 2002 with the Women’s Health Initiative study. Controversy continues to swirl around drugs such as Premarin and Prempro not the least of which is how it is obtained from pregnant mares’ urine.

Understandably weary of the whole HT approach of “we’ll get it right, even if we just lower the risks to your overall good health”; women started to look to the bioidentical option that has became part of the menopause fray. Suzanne Somers and Robin McGraw have marketed themselves as part of the next big menopause solution package. This is also equally unnerving.  I mean you are probably lovely ladies (call me we’ll do lunch) but in reality you are just baby boomer women; the difference is you have the money and resources to get books published and garner media hype. However you are not experts in any field.

My concern is that menopause is quickly becoming another money making health condition. Once it reaches that status we the real women of menopause; will never be offered anything more than quick fixes, snake oil scams, self-help fluff and pharmaceutical companies trying to ‘cure’ us. Or are we already there?

The majority of my coaching is done by phone which means that I don’t have to tidy my office or change out of my comfy shoes. So with a client coming over Monday at 9am I had to quickly go through my mental checklist to make sure that I was ready. Coffee pot on, files & books straightened into neat piles, quick dust, clean hand towel & fresh soap in the office bathroom, resources that she had sent me put into her file along with my notes, change shoes ……check.

Now while doing this Duke (aging, semi-neurotic chocolate lab) has been following me around. So I switch to the dog’s check list………walked, fed, water changed, toys at the ready and he didn’t look like an unmentionable body fluids where about to erupt from either end. So I stopped rushing and processing for a minute, put my hand on his face and asked him what his problem was. He then quietly leaned into me and let out a small contented sound. All he wanted was a few minutes of attention; to be stroked & loved…. this was a reminder to me that we don’t put love on a to-do list.

In between clients while I am writing or or doing administrative work I usually have a news channel such as the BBC or CNN on. This was the case when the second and  much more sombre occurrence happened this week. I am referring to the death of Neda Agha Soltan. The announcer quietly issues a warning about how disturbing the footage was.  At first I sat unsure of how to process the image that was unfolding before me thousand of miles away. Then I did the only thing that I could do, I stood. Alone and in the middle of my office I stood up in quiet homage to a young woman who would never see another sun rise and then I wept.

I love words whether written, spoken or sung they have power. They can expand us with knowledge or debilitate us with emotion. The art of communication isn’t in the number of words used, as less wordage & fewer sentences often enables us to process the genuineness of character or content without clutter. Well informed people know that it is best to keep their answers brief and to the point. When you give a confident woman a compliment she merely smiles and says ‘thank-you’.

My respect for words leaves me with a dislike for anything that has a whiff of censorship. If you don’t like the words discard the book, leave the theater or change the channel.  It is in that context that I find myself in the surprising position of agreeing with Sarah Palin when she took offense to David Letterman’s recent joke. The content of that part of his monologue  left a bitter taste that even changing the channel didn’t erase. He has apologized and Palin accepted the apology in a 94 word statement in which she even managed to even make mention of the US military. Perhaps a short ‘I accept your apology’ would have been more appropriate and a little less opportunistic or better yet maybe a tweet would be good practice for the always wordy Ms. Palin.

The world of words has changed even in the short period of time since she ran for vice-president. Political protests are being covered in 140 characters, iconic newspapers no longer exist and this summer people will be enjoying there favorite beach book on devices like Kindle.

I had better end this post before I too am overly wordy or as a writer friend of mine emailed me this week while gathering research for an upcoming article ……….sometimes it is better to shut up, stop writing and listen.