I had become the curator of a large digital museum that nobody visits. A chronicle of my life stuck in storage … a trip to Africa, another trip to the Bahamas, parties, weddings, graduations, our first grandchild! So many print-worthy shots and I was paralyzed. There are 4,522 photos on my phone! My friend Tammy scoffed at that number. She even added a “whoop-de-do.” She has 14,721 photos on her phone! But to me, 4,522 photos are overwhelming, and reason enough not to look at them.

My son recently gave me printed pictures of our first granddaughter. I treasure the photos and savor each moment I look at her darling face. That was my motivation.

First, I set some rules. I would spend one hour selecting the photos. I set a timer … I love to set a timer. I would only select photos that made me remember something. If I immediately wanted to tell the story of that photo, I would print it. They wouldn’t necessarily be the best photos, not the most important photos … and perhaps not even the most flattering photos. I would not scrutinize ten shots of the same thing to find the one that made my huge eyebags and crow’s feet look better. In her book, I Feel Bad About My Neck, Nora Ephron reminds us that we may never look as good as we do today. We shouldn’t avoid printing pictures of ourselves, because in ten years, we will think we looked great! And since time has a tendency to warp up to light speed, ten years will pass in an instant.

The second motivation for printing the pictures was to remind myself of the good times that I’m living right now. A big part of my empty nest journey, my Expeditionvision, is overcoming the sadness that the life I spent decades creating is in the past. Positive psychology researchers tell us that deliberately reflecting on positive life events increases feelings of well-being. Psychologist Clay Routledge says that nostalgia does not mean living in the past. He describes nostalgia as something that can help us move forward by reminding us of what matters. Nostalgia doesn’t have to mean twenty years in the past; it can be last year. Or even last month!

Looking around my house, I realized that I have had the same pictures perched on the piano and posted on the fridge for years … and I’m talking years and years and years. I think I avoided replacing them because I was afraid that I would forget. That has been another theme of my empty nest journey. The fear that I would forget my life as a mom, and the time in my life when I felt like I mattered. However, the pictures had been there for so long that I didn’t really see them anymore.

I couldn’t bring myself to take the old photos out of the frames. That felt too much like putting them into storage, which is the opposite of what this experiment was trying to do. Besides, that would take too long. Instead, I moved the old photos into other rooms and replaced them with my newly printed photos and a plan to rotate them once they have been there so long that I stopped seeing them.

The way I did it. Proof of life.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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And it took me a week. I wanted the letter to be perfect. I thought it should be filled with lessons and wisdom. I pictured her as a teenager, sitting on the corner of her pink canopy bed and clutching a stack of annual birthday letters from Gigi.

So, no pressure … and talk about writer’s block!

The first version of my letter started with the last line of Mary Oliver’s poem, The Summer Day: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

Obviously, that was too much. She had just turned one; she was not going off to college.

I want to be a person who writes letters. I love receiving letters. There is something about a handwritten letter that says I love you. I also felt those old feelings creeping back in—the fear and worry of talking, but not really saying anything. Our son and granddaughter live across the country. We will not be together very often. The six-hour flight home gave me plenty of time to convince myself I hadn’t said anything meaningful.

Fueled by the Latin phrase Verba volant, scripta manent (“Spoken words fly away, written words remain”), I started to write.

The final version of my letter to my granddaughter began something like, “You won’t remember this, so I am writing it down for us.” My annual birthday letter would be more of a future conversation that we’ll have.

I told her how excited her Gigi and Pop Pop were to fly across the country for her first birthday party, and that I had packed special decorations in my suitcase. The theme was “Bubbles and Blueberries,” two of her favorite things. I found a little white dress with printed blueberries on it for her to wear, and we covered the top of her smash cake with fresh blueberries and the largest #1 candle we could find. She didn’t smash the cake or get icing in her hair like most babies do. She carefully removed each blueberry with her little fingers and put them into her mouth one at a time.

I told her that her dad had spent hours finding the perfect birthday gifts. One of her favorites was a riding toy with a horn that played music and a secret compartment under the seat for her treasures. Her little legs weren’t quite long enough to reach the floor when she was sitting on it, so she pushed it around the room instead. She also loved the stuffed doggie, which had a purple controller and wire to make it walk and bark. Once she had the controller in her hand, she didn’t want to let it go. We named the doggie Blue and tucked it next to her in her stroller when it was time to go home.

Our precious little girl was not fussy or giggly. She was very curious and thoughtful in an unfamiliar party room with grandparents she may not have recognized.

It wasn’t Emily Dickinson. It wasn’t even particularly eloquent. She won’t remember being one year old, but I will. And now there’s a letter, just in case someday neither of us does.

The way I did it. A letter for later.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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We had never been to northern California, and its reputation for being damp, foggy, and a little “weird” did not disappoint. I agree with Mark Twain, who was supposed to have said, “The coldest winter I ever had was the summer I spent in San Francisco.” Well, it’s true! It was so cold! Unbelievably cold for mid-August.

Another saying also proved to be true. I’m not sure who said it, but it goes something like this: “When you live in Florida for a while, your blood thins, and you become less tolerant of the cold.” Within five minutes of strolling Fisherman’s Wharf, along Pier 39, we were comparing the prices of hoodie sweatshirts. There was a sweatshirt shop on every corner, with brightly colored signs of encouragement. “Don’t be cold, and yes, it’s August! And yes, you’re cold.” Obviously, cold tourists were nothing new to these shopkeepers.

Walking along San Francisco Bay felt a little like a multicultural immersion project. There were so many people! Each group we passed was speaking a different language, and yet our smiles and expressions of wonder united us all. The famous fog that had rolled in the night before seemed to clear all at once and created a misty frame encircling the iconic red steel beams of the Golden Gate Bridge that hung suspended as if by magic across an impossibly blue sea. Its sheer size dwarfed the mountains on either side, emanating such strength that somehow we felt stronger, too. We all stood shoulder to shoulder, motionless, breathless, united by an unforgettable vision.

We then “snapped to” at the sound of approaching footsteps. Everyone in California seemed to be exercising, and so many of them were young people! And how is it they were out jogging in the middle of the day on a Tuesday?! Remember the game Punch Buggy that we played as kids? The first person to see a Volkswagen Bug would punch the other on the arm. My husband was so fascinated by the number of young people jogging on a “workday” that he hit me on the arm every time one ran past. And to add insult to injury, they were wearing shorts!

Young people jogging may have been unexpected, but it was the aliens—yes, aliens!—seated in the amphitheater at the edge of the bay that cemented the day and San Francisco’s reputation in our memories forever.

This trip was a mix of the kinds of traveling I’ve vowed to do more of. Part real vacation with staying in fancy hotels, and part visiting friends and family. We justified the expense of the trip because we were going to see our son and granddaughter.

There are also two kinds of travelers … one plans ahead, makes reservations, packs a suitcase, and pays the bills well in advance … and the other one doesn’t. I fall somewhere in the middle. I got our airline tickets and hotel rooms but didn’t get any dinner reservations or excursion tickets.

My husband is definitely in the “doesn’t” camp. I don’t think he would leave the house for anything but work and golf if I didn’t drag him. However, weeks later, we are still dreamily thumbing through brochures and photographs from the trip.

The way we did it. Playing tourist.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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This experiment may be one of my favorites … and in some ways, it has been one of the most challenging.

I’ve heard stories about people traveling for free, and it sure sounds exciting! I’ve also heard stories of people who paid thousands of dollars in fees and credit card debt, which took years and years to pay off. Like getting your groceries for free with coupons, I thought it was too much work and too confusing to figure out. So I didn’t try.

Until now.

This year, I made a vow to travel and see our family more often! Inconveniently, we have family in Pennsylvania and in California. Since they are on opposite sides of the country and far away from our home in Florida, that was motivation enough to figure it out!

First, I opened an American Airlines credit card when they were having an incredible sign on bonus of 85,000 miles! However, check the fine print before you open a card. In my case, I had to spend $4,000 in the first three months. If you can’t do that and—most importantly—you can’t pay the balance in full, DON’T OPEN THE CARD. I knew my property insurance was coming up, and I had already set aside cash to pay the bill.

After three months, I could redeem the miles for our trip to California. We are going to San Francisco for the first time to celebrate our 30^th wedding anniversary and to celebrate our granddaughter’s first birthday.

That huge number of available miles got me punch drunk, and I paid for our flights and a night at a swanky hotel. In one fell swoop, my points went down to zero. It was fun getting a deal, but it turned out I didn’t get a very good deal after all. I clicked “redeem” before I determined the value of the points.

Live and learn! It’s going to take a long time to earn that number of points again. I’ve realized that I need a better strategy. I want to save money on travel to see my family and build points to take a dream vacation to London and Paris.

This is a good time to tell you … I have spent hours and hours reading stories on sites like Frequent Miler and The Points Guy. Both sites have a ton of information about amazing deals, as well as traveler testimonials that were fun to think about, but not realistic for me. I don’t have the time or the travel flexibility for that right now. Honestly, it seemed like a full-time job to research the best card to use, the tricks to earn points, and how to redeem them. For now, I’m going to use the airline redemption page for flights only.

I also needed a strategy for earning the points. Here are the guardrails that I’m using now:

1. Always pay your credit card balance in full at the end of the month.

2. Don’t buy things just to earn miles.

3. Don’t use the card to pay bills if there is a fee to pay with a credit card.

4. Take advantage of specials to earn extra miles. You can get double miles on gas or groceries or for certain restaurants—but only on budgeted expenses and things that you buy anyway.

5. Don’t automatically use miles. Only use miles if the redemption value is over 1.5 cents per mile. (cash price ÷ miles required)

6. Use your points for flights. Hotels and rental cars are rarely a good deal. Use AAA or AARP discounts instead.

This experiment showed me that I am not interested in a new hobby. I don’t want to check websites in search of deals every day or sign up for notifications whenever a flash sale is announced. Ugh, that sounds awful. My goal is to save money rather than travel for free.

The way I did it. The thrifty globetrotter.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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Deliciously creamy, smooth, and dark … with just a hint of cinnamon. It was decadence in a cup.

It was my birthday, and I didn’t want the usual birthday cake. I just wasn’t in the mood for cake. Besides, then there would be days of cake sitting around to tempt me.

Years ago, I had the most delicious drinking chocolate at a coffee shop while on a ski vacation in Park City, Utah. That’s what I was craving for my birthday treat.

First, I stopped at Starbucks. No luck. They didn’t have drinking chocolate. Then I stopped at a local coffee shop, where the barista with a full tattoo sleeve and gauged earlobes looked at me as if I were speaking a different language. And maybe I was. I was not looking for Hot Chocolate, the kind we’ve made for years. You know the one … brown powder that comes in a pouch and added to boiling water … or even the upgraded version we sometimes made with cocoa mixed with sugar and added to scalded milk. Neither of those would do. After my third stop at yet another coffee shop, where I was met with the same blank thousand-yard barista stare, I began to wonder if perhaps I had made the whole thing up.

Memory has a way of doing that.

Has your memory ever done this? The restaurant that was unbelievably good the first time you went was only “okay” the next time. Or the romantic and secluded picnic spot overlooking the ocean with the perfect view of the surf rolling in was dirty and crowded on the second visit. Both of those scenarios have played out for me on birthdays gone by.

My husband often remembers my homecooked meals as better the first time. He has a chart of his favorites taped inside the kitchen cabinet. One of his favorites is the Chilean Sea Bass I made for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. I’ve made it annually ever since, and it has never been as good as his memory. I know this because this year we celebrated our thirtieth anniversary, and there was no clapping at the end of our anniversary dinner. He calls dinner “a clapper” when he’s impressed.

But my memory of the delicious drinking chocolate was so vivid! I could feel the warmth of the tiny, espresso-sized cup in my hands, and taste the velvety smooth, semi-sweet chocolate on my tongue. So, I would just have to make it! After a quick Google search on my phone and a stop at the grocery store, I headed home.

Because it was my birthday, and there was nobody home to complain about it, I put on the movie Chocolat, starring Johnny Depp and Juliet Binoche, to set the scene. I chopped my chocolate ever so finely, heated the milk, and slowly stirred along with Juliet. Her French kitchen and beautiful copper pot with a pour spout were much more elegant than my setup. I had to move a stack of mail to make room on the counter, and I used a stainless sauce pan. It did have a copper bottom … but, alas, no pour spout.

I put on a fancy apron over my work dress, which made me feel a little more elegant. I had designed a series of Domestic Goddess aprons as gifts for my friends. The Dee apron has a Palm Beach theme with gold fringe and tropical foliage. The Linda apron has a Paris theme, featuring the Eiffel Tower on a toile background, and the Tammy has a beach theme, cerulean blue with tiny seashell-trimmed pockets. This occasion obviously called for the Linda apron.

The smell of the melted chocolate was heavenly as I slowly poured it into the small espresso cup. And the taste was just as I remembered it … and maybe even better.

The way I did it. Chocolate, Chocolat.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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Going to the gym on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays had become an albatross around my neck. Every week, it was more and more difficult to force myself out the door. My hack of listening to an audio book while using the weight machines was not enough. Going to the gym took almost two hours!

It was too big. Rather than feeling energized, I was feeling rushed and irritated. I was focusing on the activity and hating it.

One of my favorite games to play with the kids when they were little was called the two-minute tidy. I made it up. I would set a timer, and for two minutes we would race around and clean the house. It was amazing how much we could get done. My goal at that time was to have a clean house, not to be a cleaning woman.

My goal now is to be a healthy person. Not a body builder.

I love to make coffee every day. Using the same approach I used for cleaning the house—it takes about two minutes for the coffee to brew—I added a resistance band and hand weights to my morning routine. Rather than stand around waiting for the coffee to brew, I did a set with the resistance band and a set with the hand weights to strengthen my arms and shoulders.

The first morning I didn’t finish both sets before the coffee was ready, and that was okay. I folded the band and stacked the hand weights in the cabinet under the coffee maker and poured my coffee … with honey. At least, I’ve been able to stick with my experiment to replace the sugary sweet, flavored coffee creamer and reduce the amount of sugar in my diet.

By the fourth morning, I completed both sets and felt so good, I kept going, so I did two sun salutations with five pushups between the sets. I felt a little taller that day. Not stressed out and not rushed, like I felt after going to the gym. And another thing: I didn’t have to change out of my PJs, comb my hair, or even look in the mirror! I stood in my kitchen without the pressure to wear the right clothes or shoes. I’m embarrassed to admit this, but I also put on makeup before I go to the gym.

With my new two-minute routine, I was showing up for myself.

That mind shift had me looking for extra opportunities for two minutes throughout the day. I parked my car as far away from the front door to my work as possible and that added a short walk at the start of my day. I walked up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. I added a standing desk conversion to my workstation so I could stand up while reading my emails. And I wear my weighted vest as much as possible! Standing in the kitchen for an hour to make dinner and brushing my teeth twice a day are not activities that I HAVE TO DO! They are activities that I’m choosing to do, and now I’m showing up for myself to be a healthier person.

The way I did it. Home Gym.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

On a spur-of-the-moment decision, I clicked “Buy” and had only one day to figure it out. I seem to be making decisions that way these days. Part of it is FOMO, and the other part is a challenge to myself—a sort of “put your money where your mouth is.”

My thought was that if I surrounded myself with successful authors and publishers, I could find the missing link to literary success. What did they know that I didn’t? I plan on releasing my second book this fall and thought maybe I could learn something.

It made sense to me to find people who were doing what I was doing to get some real insight. We did that when the kids were little … I belonged to several moms’ groups. We shared stories and discovered that we were not alone. My struggles were their struggles. And perhaps most importantly, we also shared our successes.

It was a two-day conference, Friday afternoon to Saturday, and ended with an awards dinner on Saturday night. I arrived late on Friday because I stopped by my office on my way out of town. That never works. I checked in, got the ridiculously large conference badge, hung it around my neck, and quietly found a seat. I then realized that I had forgotten my books and my business cards! So dumb.

I was not off to a good start.

Fortunately, it got better. I met Melissa, who had written a cookbook for caregivers. She’s a wonderful new friend. The book is filled with recipes for healthy eating, of course, but it also has suggestions for including family members with dementia or Alzheimer’s in meal preparation. What a great idea. Melissa and I laughed when one of the keynote speakers shared his recipe for Italian pasta sauce. Along with the traditional tomatoes, garlic, and basil, he adds Cool Whip! Sounds crazy, and I don’t know if I’ll try it, but I won’t ever forget it!

I met Humberto and David, a father and son writing team. Humberto is a lawyer-turned-novelist, and David’s an actor. They seemed to be the perfect combination of expertise and creativity for their genre of legal thrillers. I’ve always loved the idea of a family business.

Everyone I met was so interesting! I met a jeweler who once had private security by her side at all times because of the threat of being kidnaped and held for ransom! After she showed me pictures of her travels in Monaco and Spain, she shared her plans to write a television series.

There were also heartbreaking true stories. Gordana, a physician mom, and her adult son had experienced incredible injustice from the medical system, and he was now facing a lifetime of challenges. Her story was inspiring and a real example of the powerful bond between mothers and sons.

Both days were filled with anecdotes and tidbits of information, plus a lot of time for networking. I discovered that most of the attendees’ books were going to be recognized at the awards dinner. There were thirty award categories!

At the end of the night, I collected business cards and nodded in agreement that we should all keep in touch. It felt good to congratulate and commiserate with a group that spoke book speak.

The way I did it. Searching for my people.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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Lately, I’ve been down on myself for being ten pounds heavier than I used to be. And I’m not talking about pre-baby weight, either. It almost sounds funny to say that—my kids are old enough to have their own kids! Somehow during the last five years or so, it just crept up on me. Well-intentioned friends pointed to my diet, which immediately made me feel defensive. But then I had to admit that I could do better.

I started with the first meal of the day. I’ve told you about my love of flavored coffee creamer and the struggle to stop using it because it’s full of sugar. I love my morning coffee—but not black. First, I replaced the creamer with honey … but didn’t love it. When I added a little cinnamon, that small change made all the difference. I’ve also discovered that flavored coffee is very good with a little honey. My favorite is French roast with hazelnut flavoring.

Next, I removed the cheese from my omelet. I love eggs for breakfast. In fact, I love an egg breakfast for dinner, too. Especially a three-cheese omelet with ooey, gooey melted cheddar, Gouda, and Swiss. I made Julia Child’s iconic French omelet instead—two well-beaten eggs cooked in a hot sauté pan with one tablespoon melted butter. It cooks in about twenty-seconds, and it’s heavenly. Season it with a little salt and pepper, and top it all off with fresh chives or parsley if you have some on hand.

I generally pack my lunch for work, and it’s almost always a salad. Two of my favorites are Greek salad and romaine, with a salmon patty and half an avocado. The ingredient that needed replacement was the salad dressing. I didn’t realize it, but most salad dressings are made with seed oils, which have been linked to inflammation. This cancels the benefits of the Omega-3 fatty acids in the fish and the avocado. It was easy to make my own dressing with ingredients I already had … olive oil, red wine vinegar, Italian seasoning blend, and salt and pepper. I learned a secret ingredient in my Greek cooking class—olive juice! The olive juice makes the dressing taste so fresh. I love it!

The most difficult thing for me was snack time. The recommendation is NO SNACKS. I just can’t seem to do it, at least not every day. My favorite snacks are tortilla chips. I love them with fresh cilantro lime salsa. I love them with fresh hummus, laced with cumin and parsley. I love them right out of the bag! This week, I made fresh hummus, so when I got home from work, I cut some carrots, celery, and cucumbers to dip into it instead of the chips. It was okay and tided me over while I made dinner. I confess that I missed the chips.

Dinner was going to be easy, I thought. The problem is that I’m still stuck on what my grandma taught me: “Dinner should have a protein, a starch, and a veg.” I almost always make potatoes, pasta. or rice with dinner. I say this is because my husband likes it, but I usually eat a little too. I suppose that if it’s not good for me, it’s not good for him. I experimented with two replacements: sweet potatoes rather than russets … or if I’m being honest, in place of instant mashed! I don’t know who invented instant mashed potatoes, but what a genius! They are so easy, and it says on the bag that it’s 100% real potatoes. I also tried zucchini rather than pasta. Years ago, I bought a Spiralizer, a gadget that cuts a zucchini into thin, noodle-like strips. I blanched the “noodles” in boiling salted water and topped them with shrimp sautéed in olive oil and fresh basil. We ate sweet potatoes that had been peeled, cubed, and roasted with grilled salmon. I liked both replacements and figured I saved about 200 calories in each meal. My husband claimed he was hungry an hour after dinner.

In his book Atomic Habits, James Clear suggests that making 1% improvements over time can lead to lasting change. I think I can do that. Rather than trying to completely overhaul my diet, I’ll keep going with one ingredient at a time.

The way I did it. Better than that.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

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Completely spur of the moment.

I was at church when the text chirped at me, which reminded me to silence my phone. That may be the first of the several “Is this a good idea?” thoughts that entered my mind when considering going to a live comedy show on a Sunday afternoon.

I’d been feeling defensive about my lack of spontaneity, so I agreed to meet some friends at the club for brunch and a show.

Generally, I’m leery of live comedy. It’s a self-preservation skill I learned when I was running an independent movie theater that had a live, local improv comedy show on Thursday nights. Their weekly shows were hilarious. Remember the TV show Whose Line is it Anyway? Those shows were a lot like that and hilariously different each week. But once a month, the show was strictly for adults only. They called it their Blue Show. That was my cue to hang out in the back, checking the stock, or running reports.

My husband would say that I’m a goody-two-shoes. I like to say that I don’t need to hear about what happens in your bathroom or under your covers—some things are better kept to yourself! It would be fine with me if I never heard a dick joke again. And I’m not talking the Tom, Dick, and Harry kind of joke.

My preferred comedy flavors are LeAnne Morgan and Nate Bargatze. Both have specials on Netflix that had me laughing so loud that my husband came running from the other room to find out what was going on. Egads … I’m just digging the hole deeper and confirming my husband’s goody-two-shoes opinion of me. I did it again—I can’t help myself. And who even says egads these days?!

The second time I questioned my judgment in accepting today’s spur-of-the-moment invitation, I was seated in the second row feeling sorry for the couple in the front row, who were asked about their sex life. They actually handled it well … They shrugged and announced that they had been married for 22 years. I was sure glad I wasn’t in the front row. They were singled out by every comedian who took the stage before the headliner appeared.

My husband, on the other hand, probably would have loved being in the front row spotlight. One of my favorite things about him is the way he makes me laugh. He works for it—50% of the time his jokes aren’t funny—they’re too crass, or it’s just bad humor. But the rest of the time, he has me in stitches. He told me that was good enough for him, and I guess that goes for me, too.

If I use that same ratio—funny 50% of the time—I’d say my comedy club experience was a success! The comedy club hostess, Cristy B, was beautiful, gracious, and crude. She told the most aforementioned dick jokes, and I laughed because it was so unexpected! The next two comedians told jokes about drugs, sex, and marijuana. Right away, you know I didn’t get them because I’ve used the word “marijuana.” I’m sure they said POT. I realize that I’m not helping my coolness factor at all.

This seems like a good time to tell you the story that has my husband in stitches every time he re-tells it. I was working as a bartender in Daytona Beach, and one of the hot young barbacks asked, “Do you burn?” and I replied, “Burn what?” I don’t think he ever talked to me again. Obviously, I wasn’t playing in the same sandbox as he was.

The final comedian to take the stage was Rauce Padgett, the headliner who told jokes about marriage, family, and parenthood. Not just sex. He told us he got his start as a character at the Universal Studios theme park, where I’m sure he had to be “G” rated. He had everyone in the room laughing. Like the comics before him, he picked on the two couples in the front row, and he dubbed another guy Ozempic Santa. His charm was that he brought them into his misfortune rather than asking them to share theirs. And that was funny.

The way I did it. Laughing against my better judgment.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

Nothing fancy. No special outfit or shoes. Just a simple walk down my street with the idea of noticing everything.

To me, delight is joy, thankfulness, butterflies, and goosebumps. It’s something I reach for. That little lifting of your heart when your senses are flooded with a memory or an unexpected experience. It can be simple, like when your morning alarm plays your favorite song … or majestic, like the sunrise over the ocean.

However, it can also be elusive.

Before my walk today, I was running a conversation over and over again in my head. The day before, I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in a while, and she was complaining about everything and nothing. Mostly about the state of the world, and in her opinion, the grass was much greener on the other side of the pond. I could tell that she wanted me to agree with her. I nodded and smiled, but didn’t say anything. I left feeling wretched and missing my friend.

I was still stewing and wondering if I should have said something. Perhaps, “You’re comparing apples to oranges” or “Whole countries in Europe are smaller than one state!” But then I caught myself. I doubted she was open to a different viewpoint. And why was I letting it affect my mood so much?

The first thing I noticed on my walk was the sound of the cicadas. The buzzing of the males in search of a mate was interspersed with birds calling back and forth from trees on either side of the street. Standing still for a moment I noticed the sound of the breeze was different when heard through the palm tree, the magnolia, and the live oak. The cicadas, the birds, and the breeze were playing nature’s concert. With the slow, rhythmic sounds of summertime, I could feel my tense shoulders relax. I inhaled a deep breath through my nose and filled my lungs with the salty, sweet, scented air.

As I continued, crossing from side to side to chase the shade from the trees above, I stopped at the firecracker plant. The red flowers were so bright that they seemed to glow against the green foliage. I remembered that the kids liked to pluck the flowers and suck the nectar, stretching their tongues like hummingbird beaks to reach the sweetness … and then stumbling and laughing at the sight of themselves. I plucked a few and giggled, feeling like a thief getting away with a prize.

Having nearly completed my circuit, I opened the gate to the backyard and spotted an almost ripe pineapple. I had forgotten about it. And the best part is that I grew it! Months ago, I stuck a discarded pineapple top into an empty planter. How thrilling to see what it has become.

My short, unscheduled walk opened my eyes and my heart to the simple wonders that surround us. That’s the thing with delight: the more you look for it, the more you find it. And rarely will that happen if you’re rushing or anxious.

The way I did it. Move your body, change your mood.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

For this week’s experiment I went on a delight walk. I’ll tell you the way I did it on Saturday. But, I realized I left something out of my story, and that is how thankful I am for you! Thank you for subscribing, commenting and following my Empty Mess. It means so much to me.

This fall, hopefully about September 10th, I plan to release my second Empty Mess book. One of the items on my “To'-Do” list from my publisher is to get reviews.

And that is why I’m reaching out on a Monday morning. Receiving a review from you would be fantastic! Reviews are printed on the book jacket and also on my website and other book retail sights and are an important part of the book launch process.

As a thank you for your time and consideration, I will mail you a signed paperback copy of the book! And it’s easy. Simply reply to this email, or direct at Stephanie@emptymess.com. Please include if you are a parent and how many children, and grandchildren you have.

Thank you! It’s our time to shine.

XO, ~Stephanie

I bought a weighted vest.

It was a funny YouTube video that pushed me to move the vest from my cart and finally place the order. In the video, a couple in their fifties danced down a street in their neighborhood, singing the praises of their weighted vests to the tune of “Be Our Guest” from Beauty and the Beast. I’m a sucker for a good parody.

Wearing a weighted vest is one of several suggestions in the “longevity” column on my long list of things to try. I hesitated for a while on this experiment … partly because I wasn’t sure my shoulder could tolerate the weight and partly because they just look a little dorky.

Coming off the high of actually enjoying going to the gym and slogging through the circuit after I added listening to an audio book to my routine, I thought I might wear the weighted vest while I listened to the book at home. I’ve also wanted to walk the dog more, and that would be yet another excellent opportunity to wear the vest. It’s been difficult to walk him now that he’s in his teenage phase. He gets distracted and pulls toward every squirrel, dog, and person—basically anything that moves in his line of sight. The last thing I want is another broken shoulder! But even if I don’t walk the dog, I’m standing a lot at home, mostly at the kitchen sink. Fortunately, I have a nice view, but it sure seems like I’m stationed at that sink an awful lot. I may as well wear the vest to add some weight to my weight-bearing exercise.

Does that count? The advice I’ve read is to do more weight-bearing exercises. Does standing at the kitchen sink count as exercise?

Hold, please…I’ll look it up!

Okay, I’m back, and the answer is yes … kind of. “Wearing a weighted vest increases the gravitational pull on your skeleton, which forces your bones and muscles to work harder, stimulating bone density and increasing overall calorie burn.” Hmm … that sounds good, so I guess I can count standing at the sink as exercise IF I’m wearing the vest.

The vest arrived nicely boxed with a lavender sachet and a thank-you card that informed me it was designed for women by a woman-owned company. That made me feel good … it’s a nice extra touch. The vest made an “X” across my chest when I put it on. For obvious reasons, that is a good design.

The first time I wore the vest, I lasted about 30 minutes, partly because I had to go to work, and partly because my shoulder was a little sore. The next time, I put on the vest when I got home after work, which allowed me more time for my experiment. I found an old shoulder pad and stuck it under the strap on my “bad shoulder” side. That seemed to help a little. I also tightened the straps around my waist, which helped distribute the weight down a bit.

By the third time, I was used to the weight and feeling motivated to do something more vigorous, so I vacuumed and mopped the floors! That took over an hour, and I did feel like I had gotten a workout! With all the bending and reaching, my core muscles especially got a workout.

The way I did it. For the love of bones.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

“Go to the gym and lift weights!” That’s the advice from every podcast and all the wellness articles I’ve been reading lately. Apparently, everyone agrees that lifting weights is especially important for women over fifty. I’d been circling around the idea and coming up with ways to avoid it. I could use hand weights and stretch bands at home. Better yet, I could unbury my husband’s Olympic weight bench, which has been covered with boxes and clothes for months—not to mention, I have a drawer full of workout videos!

But I didn’t do any of that.

In the spirit of my Expeditionvision—I forced myself to go to the gym. And I hated it.

My foray back to the gym included an RFID bracelet, as well keeping well clear of a skinny old dude with long hair. He too must have heard the urgent call to “lift weights.” He wears a perpetually lost expression on his face that suggests he’s new to this. There’s also a lady who doesn’t understand the concept of moving in a clockwise direction through the machines when circuit training.

This comedy is set to a soundtrack that must be the whim of a staff of rotating burnouts and teenagers—whoever is on duty at the time. I can just see them laughing behind the curtain at all the old people moving like robots from the leg press to the lat pulldown to the tune of Highway to Hell by AC/DC, alternating with Don’t Waste My Time by Zilo.

You feel me?

And there’s also this weird idea that every person has to use a dripping wet sanitizing wipe to soak each machine when they’re done. By the third machine, my butt and back are wet, and not because I’m sweating! Does that sound like anything anyone would want to do? Not to me, it doesn’t.

I used to love going to the gym. I taught step aerobics in the ‘90s, for heaven’s sake! Remember wearing leotards with tights and leg warmers? Every outfit was finished off with a matching headband and white high-top sneakers. That outfit was my jam. And I looked good. I had a big yellow Jambox with a shoulder strap that I carried into class. It had two tape decks. One for the warm-up and cool-down, and one with pop music for the dancercise part of the class. That was when going to the gym was fun!

Not like my current gym experience. But I have to admit that after six weeks of forcing myself through those doors … and equating the experience with being a prisoner on a chain gang … I’ve noticed that I am feeling a little stronger, and the computerized strength test has me upping the weight. Well, that’s just enough to keep me going … most days. On the other days, especially if my workout partner flakes out, it’s easy not to go, and not going isn’t like me. I’m usually pretty good at doing things just because I know they are good for me.

Then came the epiphany.

I was struggling to find time to read my book club’s book of the month, so I downloaded the audio version and was enjoying listening to it. Rather than putting on my gym ID bracelet as if it were a handcuff, I slapped on my headphones and grabbed a thick terry towel. Today, I was excited … even eager … to get to the gym and find out “who done it.”

The way I did it. Something to look forward to.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

As you know, trying new things is a big part of my Expedition vision … and we’re already halfway through the year with the week of July 10^th.

Wow!

I thought it would be fun to give a little update on twenty-six of my discoveries for this twenty-sixth week of the twenty-sixth year. Some I found through experiments, some were suggested by friends, and some I pulled out of the closet!

Here’s what I’m listening to:

· The Mel Robbins podcast

· The unPAUSED podcast with Dr. Mary Claire Haver

· The Laugh Lines podcast with Kim and Penn Holderness

· The Meghan Trainor station on Pandora

· The Cole Porter station on Pandora

My friend Tara first introduced me to Mel Robbins and then to Dr. Mary Claire Haver. I wasn’t really a podcast person, but now I can’t imagine cooking dinner or folding laundry without a podcast playing in the background. Mel and Dr. Mary are two amazing women. And they are both helping me feel a little less nuts. Kim and Penn Holderness add a bit of comic relief to the mix. Their relationship reminds me of my husband and I. My sister has said a thousand times that Bill and I should do a podcast … well, maybe. My Pandora stations look a little funny, even to me … I love Cole Porter when I’m writing and Meghan Trainor when I’m working in the yard or exercising.

What I’m watching and following:

· The limited TV series I Will Find You, starring Sam Worthington on Netflix

· The limited TV series The Perfect Couple, starring Nicole Kidman and Liev Schreiber on Netflix

· Shield of Life, with Dr. Andria Klioze on YouTube and Drandriaklioze on Instagram

· The Boss Lady, with Teresa Rand and Jennifer Roberts on Facebook

· Darma.LTD, Derek Mason on Instagram, and DARMA MENS LTD on Facebook

Watching a limited series reminds me of what TV used to be—good storytelling, good acting, and something to look forward to. My friend, Dr. Andria, is perhaps the most brilliant woman I know. Her advice on healthy eating and spiritual living is something everyone should hear. I feel the same way about my friends Teresa and Jennifer. They have encouraged me and hundreds of other professional women to take charge of their careers and lives. Darma.LTD is my son’s new company. He has created a line of men’s jewelry, hats, belts, and wallets. His company has a great message too. It’s been fun to feel connected to his new endeavor through social media.

What I’m reading:

· Mona’s Eyes, a novel by Thomas Schlesser

· The Calamity Club, a novel by Kathryn Stockett

· An Inside Job, a novel by Daniel Silva

· The Ormond Beach Observer, a local newspaper published by Brian McMillan

· Florida Trend, a magazine published by David G. Denor

I’ve always loved to read, which my mom led by example. These days, she can read a novel in a day! I don’t think I’ll ever reach that speed. In fact, I have to admit that I’m listening to The Calamity Club. When I discovered it was 700 pages long, I knew I would never get through it in time for book club if I read it page by page. Mona’s Eyes and An Inside Job are also book club reads. Somehow, I’ve joined three book clubs!

The Ormond Beach Observer is a weekly paper. I look forward to reading about my neighbors and what’s happening in the community when it arrives every Thursday. Florida Trend magazine covers the same thing for the state of Florida. I like to follow what’s happening in business throughout our state. The most recent edition featured exciting opportunities in aerospace, medicine, and higher education.

What I’m eating:

· Hard-boiled eggs

· Grilled steak

· Grilled salmon

· Tofu tacos

· Chicken piccata

· Homemade salad dressing

This year has been my year for protein! I used to have a protein shake for breakfast, but lately, it’s been eggs, eggs, eggs! Cooking on the grill is a fun way to get protein, too, and one that doesn’t stink up or heat up the house. Tofu tacos have become a go-to favorite on nights that I don’t feel like cooking. I always keep a can of black beans and a can of tomatoes in the pantry. Brown the crumbled tofu in olive oil, add a packet of taco seasoning, the cans of beans and tomatoes … and voilà … dinner is done. Chicken piccata is an old favorite I made for a dinner party. It’s perfect for a party because you can make it ahead and keep it warm until you’re ready to sit down at the table. Making my own salad dressing is a new one. Apparently, we are supposed to avoid seed oil, and most commercial dressings are full of them.

What I’m doing for my skin and bones:

· Taking a FAR infrared + NEAR red light sauna

· Challenging myself to hang from a bar

· Wearing a weighted vest

· Treating my hair and scalp with BosleyMD hair products

A friend asked me recently, “Why do you have a sauna in Florida? Just go outside!”

She may be right, but I do love my sauna. When our house was damaged by flooding, I was most concerned about my little outhouse of a sauna! Thankfully, it still works. It turns out that hanging from a pull-up bar is more about grip strength than I thought. My hands used to be so strong when I was upholstering furniture. Not so much anymore; I guess it’s a good challenge—hang for one minute without touching the floor. I can’t do it yet. When I ordered the weighted vest, I thought eight pounds would be too light, but the weight really added intensity to my stair climbing. The Bosley shampoo, conditioning, and scalp treatment are the newest additions to my routine. My scalp tingles, so it feels like it’s doing something. I’ve been so stressed about my hair falling out that the stress is probably making my hair fall out! I’ll keep you posted.

The way I did it. 26 for 26.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Just for fun … and to see if I could do it.

I set this challenge for myself when I discovered that we had been trimming our trees all wrong. I found this out when the city’s arborist spoke at a commission meeting I was attending for work. I wasn’t paying full attention . . . after all, we weren’t actually trimming our trees ourselves. We hire tree guys to come and do the work, and I figured they knew what they were doing. But my interest perked up when the arborist announced that homeowners and tree companies could be fined for over-trimming. I didn’t know that was a thing.

Florida’s official state tree is the sabal palm, and, as such, it is closely monitored and protected. We have 21 of them on our 100’ x 100’ residential lot. I know—that’s a lot of trees! I counted twice. I also now know that our tree guys had been trimming them wrong. They typically left only a few fronds sticking straight out of the top of each tree. As a result, the poor things looked more like giant paintbrushes than palm trees.

If we continued to trim them incorrectly, we could potentially be fined thousands of dollars. After a little research, it didn’t take long for lots of answers to pop up. Once you type in a question, AI sends more information than anyone could possibly need. I discovered that only the dead fronds should be removed in a 9 o’clock—3 o’clock pattern and thought, “That won’t be so hard.”

So, on Sunday morning … I selected Sunday because my husband would be home to witness my experiment and would call the ambulance if I fell off the ladder. He golfs on Saturdays. Before the sun got too hot, I extended the ladder to its full height, propped it against one of the shorter trees surrounding the pool, and climbed up, clutching a borrowed long pole saw. I wasn’t sure if I would ever use the saw again after this experiment, so I didn’t want to invest the money to buy one of my own. Not yet, anyway.

The angle was a little tricky, and the weight of the fully extended pole saw felt heavier at the top of the ladder than it did on the ground. However, as soon as the first dead palm frond fell to the ground, I was hooked.

It was fun!

It was exhilarating!

It took about thirty minutes to remove the dead fronds. I had to reposition the ladder twice. I also removed the branch containing flowering seed pods and felt lucky that the bees I saw the week before buzzing around the tree’s flowers had moved on.

The tree looked fresh but not overdone … like a perfect haircut. It felt good knowing that I had done it. And a trip to the hospital wasn’t necessary.

The way I did it. Tree woman.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

A Big Fat Greek Cooking Class, to be precise. For months, I had been driving by the advertisement sign posted on the fence at the Casements, the historic winter home of John D. Rockefeller that is now a community museum and venue. This week, without overthinking it, I signed up.

The website said we would make Moussaka, Rice Pilaf, Greek Salad, Stuffed Grape Leaves, Spanakopita, and Baklava. And we did! I felt confident going into class. I had made all the dishes, except the grape leaves, before. I was looking forward to learning from a real chef. And Chef Elaine did not disappoint. She had many tips and tricks and engaging personal stories that made the 3-½ hour class fly by.

This wasn’t my first cooking class. One of my most memorable cooking experiences was the class at La Cucina al Focolare in Italy with a group of friends. We call ourselves the Belle Sorelle, which means beautiful sisters in Italian. Taking an authentic Italian cooking class in the gorgeous countryside of Tuscany is also one of the all-time favorite things I’ve ever done.

First, we made Crostini di Fegatini—chicken liver toasts that we enjoyed immediately with a slice of crusty bread and a glass of Chianti. Then La Pasta per la Pizza—pizza crust topped with an amazing tomato sauce and fresh mozzarella cheese. For the main course, it was Fettuccine con Salsa di Pomodoro e Basilico—fettuccine with tomato and basil sauce, and for dessert Biscotti di Prato—almond biscuits. We cooked in a wood-fired oven and hand rolled the fettucine. I can’t remember whether Italian music was playing in the kitchen or if it was just playing in my head.

The class was amazing … the food was delicious, and it remains one of my fondest memories of our Italian adventure. I also remember that I jumped in to translate, which is a funny way to explain it because I don’t speak much Italian—but our cooking instructors spoke even less English. When I saw my friends’ confused looks, I began to narrate what I was doing. It seemed to help. We then had another glass of wine and enjoyed dinner together, seated on heavy wooden stools around the rustic kitchen table.

I’m telling you that last bit, the bit about taking on the role of instructor, because in my Greek cooking class I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from jumping up to assist. There were over 20 of us in the class. Chef Elaine was in the middle, demonstrating for much of the time. I just knew if I got up there and helped, I could re-engage the students whose attention was drifting … we all had to strain a little bit to see.

Spoiler: I didn’t make it through the whole class without helping. By the time we got to the Greek Salad, the last item on our menu, I got up and chopped the tomatoes. Can I use the excuse that I was starving? I was. I had come to class straight from work. But the truth is, I just couldn’t fight my urge to help any longer.

I think about food a lot. I love to imagine the dinners I will make, the parties I will host, and all the wonderful food I will serve. Taking the Greek cooking class reignited that passion.

The way I did it. Greek for a day.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.

Read more

For one week, rather than thinking about what I was grateful for, I said it out loud. Every morning, before leaving the house for work, going to meetings, or running errands, I stopped and said my thoughts out loud. This experiment was to put to the test my belief, and constant advice to others, in the power of positive affirmation. Would starting each day in this way change how I was feeling? I was going to find out.

Recently, my days have felt like a constant climb to nowhere. An endless series of emails, meetings, phone calls, and putting out small fires … set that on repeat. Nothing much different was happening. I think I was just feeling bored or tired, and I started to notice that my thoughts kept drifting to the worst possible scenarios.

When my kids didn’t answer my calls and texts, my mind immediately went to … car crash! Were they not calling back because they were in a horrible accident?

When I had nothing on my social calendar, I thought, “My friends must be mad at me. What did I do?”

When the washing machine made a funny noise, I announced to my husband, “We better not go out to dinner. We’re sure to need the money to buy a new washing machine.”

My rational mind knew that none of that was true, and yet I couldn’t seem to help myself.

The first morning, I felt a little silly. Remember that skit on Saturday Night Live when Al Franken created the character Stuart Smalley? Stuart would stand in front of the mirror and recite, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me.” Was I being a pathetic Stuart Smalley?

On the second day, I posted pictures of some of my favorite things on my bathroom mirror to prompt the affirmations. Florida songbirds … I’m enamored by them! A photo of my recent bike ride along the ocean. I’m so happy to be back on my bike again. My view of the garden waterfall from my office window. I have a beautiful place to work.

On the third day, I added notes and pictures of things I am looking forward to this week, this month, and this year. This week, I was having lunch with a friend who had just returned from a month-long trip to Europe. I couldn’t wait to hear about it. A month … wow! Although I won’t be spending a month in Europe, this month I am going to take my first professional golf lesson. I’m not sure if I hope I’m good at it or terrible at it. We’ll see. This year, our daughter and son-in-law will celebrate their first wedding anniversary, and our granddaughter will turn one year old. We have a trip to California planned to celebrate her birthday, and I’m researching fun anniversary gifts to send to Pennsylvania.

However, it wasn’t a perfect week. I snapped at my husband a time or two. He calls those moments my passive aggressiveness. If our teenagers responded the way I did, we would have called them smart asses.

But when I took an honest look back, I did feel a little lighter throughout the week. I didn’t scroll my Facebook friends to see what they were doing without me. I didn’t check my phone all day long to see if there were replies to my texts. Reminding myself—out loud—about good things kept my irrational thoughts from creeping in.

The way I did it. Daily gratitude.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, and things I’m still working on.

Read more

This experiment started with the best of intentions. After the church service last week, I stopped at the church café for a cup of coffee and noticed a sign on the counter asking for volunteer kitchen cooks.

“That’s an easy one,” I thought.

As soon as I got home, I signed up to join the kitchen committee. Just as I hit submit, I felt a pain in my stomach. What was I thinking? I don’t have time to be in charge of anything more right now. Ugh, did I make a mistake? I’ve always found it difficult to be part of a committee without taking charge.

My husband would say I’m a control freak. I don’t think I am, but it drives me crazy when “nobody” is in charge. I know this about myself. I can stomach about six minutes … MAX... of standing around waiting for someone to “start” a project before I have to interject. And everyone knows the one who starts the project is the one who’s in charge. Voilà … I put myself in charge.

The thing is, I’ve spent so much of my life as the person who notices what needs to be done, and then making sure it happens. It seems natural to me. Some might say that’s a gift, but every gift has a shadow side.

Shadow side #1: Not listening. I’ve been working on this dark truth for years. When someone tells me their troubles, or asks for help, I find it very hard not to go into fix-it mode. I’m getting better, I used to interrupt with attitude and let them know that, obviously, here’s your solution. These days, I might think of the solution—after all, old habits are hard to break—but not say anything. I must admit that staying silent may seem like I’m not adding value. Even so, I’ve learned that NOT sharing is sometimes the better choice. I want to be the person who asks, “Do you want me to listen, or help problem solve?”

Shadow side #2: Jumping in with both feet. The dark truth of being the first to act is often you find you’re the only one left in the room. People are generally all too happy to let you do it – whatever “it” may be. I’m thinking that I need to start a new ministry … a ministry of keeping my mouth shut!

So far, this experiment has been a mental exercise since I haven’t been called or scheduled for a kitchen shift yet. It’s now been a week, which seems longer than I would have expected. Then again, I remember the last time I volunteered in the kitchen … and I wonder if I might be on the “Do Not Call” list. The last time I volunteered, I signed up without knowing what the job duties were. When I arrived, I found out that I didn’t really have a job to do. So I took it upon myself to be helpful and found there were moldy cucumbers on the tossed salads. And I noticed several bags of mini potato chips had expired after sorting the bags in order of expiration. I later discovered that the kitchen manager was not at all impressed.

I’m not sure if I was intentionally not called to volunteer. However, experience has shown me that sometimes I need to help less. The adage “See something, say something” does not always apply.

The way I did it. Being helpful without being in charge.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, and things I’m still working on.

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I’ve started my day with a cup of coffee for as long as I can remember, and the delicious varieties of flavored creamers are some of my favorite things about that morning cup of joe. My current favorite is Italian Sweet Cream. I bought one of those small frothers to whip the cream before adding the hot coffee. It’s heavenly delicious. In the fall, I look forward to the seasonal Pumpkin Spice and Cinnamon Dolce flavors, and then for the holidays, it’s Peppermint Stick and White Chocolate Raspberry.

This experiment was difficult for me, and it’s one that I’ve been thinking about for a long time. Apparently, beverages high in sugar are worse for you than cakes and pies. It’s something about how quickly sugar enters your system without any solids to slow it down. You may have heard about the lawsuits against Starbucks, that mighty coffee giant.

The thing is, I wasn’t drinking a venti coffee macchiato with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle every morning. I was making my coffee at home and often measured the creamer to get the precise allotted serving size of two tablespoons per cup.

But even so, I had a feeling I could do better.

A couple of weeks ago, I spent the weekend with friends in a beautiful mountain house in North Carolina. The first morning, I woke up early, so I started the coffee. I set out the coffee cups and teaspoons, opened the fridge, and found plain half-and-half. No problem, I thought, and began to search the cabinets for sugar. I hunted high and low, using a stool to check the small cabinet above the microwave. Then I got down on my knees to check the very bottom drawers. Nothing there … there was no sugar in the house. The best that I could come up with was a small pot of honey.

So I had a problem. First, I really don’t like black coffee, and second, none of my friends seemed to be concerned about it. Since I didn’t want to be a complainer, I suffered through honey coffee the first morning and continued to suffer the second morning. By the third morning, I couldn’t take it and blurted out, “Does anyone else miss having sugar in their coffee?” The answer was crickets. And I know why.

One of our friends is a brilliant doctor. She knows everything about nutrition … and not just the whole foods plan that everyone is touting these days. She knows how foods affect your body at the molecular level. She can tell you exactly how the things you put in your mouth have an effect on your body. And the long and the short of it is—sugar is not good. Needless to say, none of us want her to catch us eating the wrong things!

So that was two weeks ago. I didn’t enjoy my coffee during that vacation, and when I got home I went back to my old habit—whipping the Italian Sweet Cream and adding the hot coffee. However, I was feeling guilty, so I planned this experiment.

Generally, I’m pretty good about doing things that I know are good for me—getting enough sleep, exercising, and not drinking too much. I’ve added lifting weights … blah blah blah. And there it is. I struggled with this week’s experiment because I have a bad attitude.

The way I did it. A little less sweet.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, and things I’m still working on.

Read more

This experiment isn’t as crazy as it sounds. Although I’ve heard of women shaving their faces as some sort of super exfoliant, I didn’t shave with my husband’s razor, but he did call it shaving when I used the handheld red light + electrical muscle stimulation (EMS) tool that I purchased with the hope of reducing the unattractive appearance of my turkey neck. The edge of the contraption did resemble the shape of a traditional razor, and when I touched it to my neck, it made a humming sound … so the name did suit the action.

Every night for fourteen weeks—in reality, probably more like 95 nights since I missed a night here and there—I plopped on the edge of the sofa and “shaved” my wrinkled neck and what can only be called the beginnings of jowls where my checks should be.

I was going to say this experiment was a reader challenge. I’ve been calling for readers to submit their experiments, but that would be a lie. This experiment is founded in good ole-fashioned vanity. I’ve written about my décolleté resembling a peach pit, which is quite disturbing, but one day I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize the face looking back at me as my own. I truly thought an old lady was staring at me in horror. Who was that woman with the wrinkled, sagging skin? My outward appearance didn’t match the way I felt. When did that happen?! I was now more than motivated to do something about it.

The first thing I did was research surgical face lifts … and quickly ruled that out after looking at a few of the “after” photos. I found lots of anti-aging recommendations, such as exercising your face to reduce sagging skin, which makes sense. I go to the gym to lift weights, but contorting and scrunching up my face actually was making my wrinkles look worse. And that reminded me of an article I once read about Asian women who are famous for not having expression lines because they have trained themselves NOT to move their faces. Everyone else uses Botox to freeze their muscles, but I decided not to inject myself with poison.

There was a plethora of information about topical lotions and creams that promised to “feed” my skin. I’ve done a lot of research in that lane—my Shine cream oil is chock-full of antioxidants, humectants, and vitamins. I then set a timer to give myself an allotted research time. I’ve found that if I don’t, I can sit at my computer screen for hours and hours and emerge feeling quite awful. When the buzzer sounded, I decided to purchase a tool to use in conjunction with my Shine formula.

After three weeks, I thought I could see a little difference. After six weeks, my neck felt tighter, which was enough encouragement to keep at it. At this point, my skin feels more like the way I remember it … and at certain angles it appears as though my jowl buds and wrinkles are smoothing out.

Another thing I found while researching was a long list of famous women over fifty who have pledged to age naturally—Lauren Hutton, Meryl Streep, and Julia Roberts have all spoken out against plastic surgery. I especially liked this quote from Julia: “Your face tells a story ... and it shouldn’t be a story about your drive to the doctor’s office.”

Perhaps the most encouraging point in my experiment was when an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in a while said, “You look so young.” Release the confetti! Do a little dance! That compliment alone was enough encouragement to keep me going for another fourteen weeks.

The way I did it. Aging naturally.

This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.

Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers

Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, and things I’m still working on.

Read more