Why I Like Being Blind

No, in truth, I seldom like being blind. However, there are moments when I recognize that blindness has some benefits. Here are my top ten reasons to like being blind-

  1. When I get up in the morning, I can’t see how old I’m getting in the mirror.
  2. It’s nice being personally guided through airport security and other checkpoints, avoiding long lines of annoyed travelers.
  3. I don’t have to pretend I’m ignoring people I don’t like. I really can’t see them.
  4. I don’t need to shave every morning, or for that matter, worry about wearing matching socks. Yes, I admit age has something to do with this disregard for fashion.
  5. I can now unabashedly ask for help, paying no attention to my previous suffocating shyness. I need all the help I can get.
  6. I’m no longer asked to help people move. My history of breaking other people’s valuable objects has nothing to do with this.
  7. I now have an excuse for talking to myself. I’m talking to my computer.
  8. I now have a socially acceptable excuse for eating with my fingers. It’s the most effective way to get food into my mouth.
  9. I now have a more acceptable reason than being drunk for tripping over curbs. Yes, likely I’ve been drinking, but now I’m blind drunk. .
  10. 10. When late for appointments, it’s now much easier to say “Sorry, got lost.”

I’m always seeking more reasons to be happy with blindness, please add yours as a “Comment” below.

tio stib

You might also enjoy: Blind Man’s Bluff, Hanging with Happiness

Writing Well 2: 4,000,000 Books and Me

Recently I read a blog post that hit me like a bat on the back of the head. The author, Claude Forthomme, noted that a new book shows up on Amazon every 12 minutes and appropriately called this a self-publishing tsunami.

Claude’s post is now two years old and I expect the tsunami is now even larger. My guess is that Amazon currently has about 4,000,000 book listings.

In the middle of that flood of books are my two quite unnoticed self-published efforts.

That’s a lot of competition.

In another post, Claude shares that only 40 Amazon best selling authors actually make much money. 40 out of four million. I’m not sure what your math background is but even with my meager numbers skills, it seems obvious that the odds for financial success as a self-published writer are about the same as winning the lottery or me being asked to dinner with the President of the United States. It should be mentioned that I’m not his biggest fan.

My current book sales will not allow me to buy a first class ticket to fly to Paris, in fact, those sales barely allow me to buy an occasional beer to drown my writing career sorrows. Perhaps it’s time to throw out all the writing guru marketing crap that tells me that if I only work hard enough and smart enough and, of course, write something decent,, and then have a bit of good luck, I, too will be among the 40 best selling Amazon authors.

Not remotely likely, Grasshopper.

In Seth Godin’s insightful podcast, “Live at Carnegie Hall,” he poses the question of how young aspiring musicians can create successful lives amidst the flood of musical competition released by the same free and easy internet access that has changed the world for all of today’s creative artists. Seth suggests another path for life success. Instead of trying to compete with that tsunami of creative talent, build a tribe of 1000 followers for your unique artistic gift. He notes the careers of musicians who have small but dedicated followers. By focusing on uniquely serving a small group of people with similar passions, such artists have created simple and meaningful lives.

After listening to Seth, I considered my writing career and decided to change my focus to building a tribe of followers around my writing passion, young adult eco-fiction. Here I write for young minds still open and curious about the Natural world, a world that feeds my own soul. I’m building relationships within the eco-fiction community by reviewing other author’s books and being involved with discussion groups. I’m continuing my efforts to support the Save the Vaquita Porpoise! movement. And I keep asking myself the question, how can I best serve the needs of this community, my tribe while pursuing my own life path?

No, Ive not given up on building my writing platform, rather I’ve shifted it’s focus to serving my tribe. Sure, I’d like to sell more books, and I suspect this will happen over time. However, I’m not making plans to fly first class to Paris. I’d rather go fly fishing on the Rogue River.

Here are links to the above mentioned articles- (please make links noted below)

Claude Forthomme’s Blog-

https://claudenougat.wordpress.com/2014/08/19/to-self-publish-and-perish-buried-under-3-4-million-e-books/

https://claudenougat.wordpress.com/2016/02/07/only-40-self-published-authors-are-a-success-says-amazon/

Seth Godin’s Podcast “Live at Carnegie Hall”-

https://vimeo.com/155069902

Good writing!
Tio Stib Signature

My Dementia Diary 24 – A Season of Endings

“Too warm!” she told me, standing in the shower.

I realized she was no longer able to adjust the water temperature on her own, the control knob confused her. I turned the knob.

“Better,” she said.

It was another sign, another slip, another reminder of our downward journey together in a season of endings.

We’ve reached a point where what used to be easy, things that were once simple to do, are no longer so. Such changes are not obvious to her, but are painfully so for me. We are slowly sliding down to a place from which there is no return. Knowing this, I’m making every effort to enjoy the precious things we can still do together.

Recently, we took a train trip north to a small town in Oregon for a family reunion. We’ve done this before, and, as train travel is more flexible than buses and planes, it had been enjoyable. However, this time, she was more fearful, uneasy, not able to relax in a setting so different than our home world. This unease continued when we met up with family at a beautiful lakeside lodge. Ultimately, we had a good time, but I was aware of how much my wife’s ability to adapt to different environments had diminished in the past year. I was also aware of how difficult it seemed to be for other family members to interact with us. It occurred to me that it was quite likely the last family reunion we’d attend.

Philosophically, lives end, we all will pass on. Emotionally, this fact is difficult to accept. I suspect that most of the family awkwardness with interacting with us was their own fears about mortality. I wish there could have been more open conversation about this subject, but it didn’t happen. 

Youth does not want to think about the season of endings, but this is a luxury I cannot afford, so I focus on gratitude for the wonderful life we’ve been blessed with, taking each ending in its turn as an opportunity to be thankful for what we’ve had and what we still have.

“I’m taking a shower with shampoo!” she tells me with delight.

Yes, we are blessed.

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary 23 – Thank You! Very Good Day!, My Dementia Diary

My Dementia Diary 23 – Thank You! Very Good Day!

I am not, by any measure, a so called “morning person.” rather, as insomnia keeps me up until the wee hours and deep sleep is hard earned, I am defiantly resistant to being awakened before my anointed hour, which is never earlier than eight a.m.. Fishing trips are an exception, but that’s another story.

My wife’s waking behavior is completely in contrast to my own. Most often, she is up and buzzing around long before I’m even close to consciousness. Being hesitant to open my eyes, her active presence is usually announced by the sound of her voice.

“Thank you! Very good day!”

These words have become her mantra, used anywhere and anytime for anything that strikes her fancy.

A drawing she has just completed coloring, “Thank you! Very good day!”

Cutting rose buds for the dining table, “Thank you! Very good day!”

Hummingbirds gathering at the feeder, “Thank you! Very good day!”

Her morning cup of coffee, “Thank you! Very good day!”

Meeting people on our daily walk, “Thank you! Very good day!”

There is no end to how and where these words are used, which leads me to consider  that if our vocabulary was limited, if we only had a language of five words, my wife’s choices would do quite well.

“Thank you! Very good day!”

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary 22-I’m Taking a Shower!, My Dementia Diary

 

My Dementia Diary 16 – Good News, Bad News, Where is My Solitude

For years, I dreamed of a partner with whom I could share all of life, the joys and the hardships, someone who would be willing and able to take off on a moment’s notice to places unknown simply because it seemed to be a great idea at the time.

Finally, I was blessed with just this partner, and, for one year, we had the magic life together that I’d always dreamed of.

That was a year of unsurpassed bliss and those memories still bring me smiles. However, as so often happens, our road together took an unexpected turn. I lost my sight and she began losing her mind.

And, so, we’ve adapted.

We no longer drive miles from home, but limit our roaming to walking local walking wanderings. It has gotten to the point that I no longer feel comfortable leaving her alone, and, as I’m her only caregiver, this means we’re together all the time, always. Fortunately, my wife has a naturally cheerful disposition and she’s easily guided into whatever activity we need to be doing, from daily walks to grocery shopping. The biggest challenge is my personality, the fact that, for most of my life, I’ve enjoyed times of solitude.

While I’ve treasured sharing adventures with friends, from sailing trips to hikes to new restaurants, when no one was available, I went off on my own. And I loved it!! As has been often shared by others, solitude is not loneliness, it is the beauty and peace of being alone. I have fond recollections of such solitude times, from solo hikes and sailing trips to simply sitting on a beach at sunset. Quiet moments when I could hear stars talking to each other.

Given my wife’s new need for constant companionship, I am finding new ways to give myself the gift of solitude. As she has the envious ability to fall asleep in seconds, I often listen to those imagined stars deep into the night waiting for drowsiness to creep over my mind. Or, I’ll sit outside in the morning sunshine, letting the sweet scent of nearby Jasmine float through me, recalling other dreams of times gone by.

Solitude is soul food, and, as always, it’s up to me to feed myself.

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary

My Dementia Diary 15 – Ice cream

There is one thing my wife’s mind continues to remember with humorous frequency.

Ice cream.

She will forget what I told her five minutes ago, forget birthdays, including her own, but she does not forget ice cream. In the middle of the afternoon, when it’s time for a break, she will approach and coyly ask,

“ice cream?”

Hard to say “no” to such childlike innocence. And, so, we walk down to our favorite ice cream stop at the local pharmacy. She’s all smiles, giggling and excited, even though she’ll ask me several times on the way

“where are we going?”

she doesn’t remember a favorite flavor, but tries to pronounce all the names at the ice cream counter. animal Circus. cookie dough. Pistachio. Butter Pecan, and on, and on. She can’t make up her mind so I’ll pick one for her, knowing all that matters is an ice cream cone in hand.

then we wander out  to sit on a sun drenched bench and savor our treats, one delicious lick at a time. 

And I say a silent prayer of gratitude that she can still come to me and ask,

“ice cream?”

tiostib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary

 

Published on the Saturday Evening Post

Surprise! I’ve received the welcome news that my short story, “Almost heaven,” has been published on the Saturday Evening Post. Wow! Makes an oft rejected writer’s day.

Here’s the link-

“Almost Heaven” in The Saturday Evening Post 

Good writing!

tio stib