Tucson Writer Editor

Happiness 2015: The Givers and the Takers

Posted on January 2, 2015 by sheilawill

I’m an extrovert. I get caught up in the New Year’s hype. I’m glad that “the holiday season” is done and that it’s a time for starting over. That’s how I see it, but it probably isn’t as easy for some people.

New Year’s Day 2015: Snow on the Catalinas (over 8,000 feet)

Consider the takers. They’re always mad, competitive and distressed. A retired woman in the hood used to come to our Starbucks every morning. She bought her coffee but took a New York Times, Wall Street Journal and Arizona Daily Star off the rack to read. She didn’t pay for them and messed them up enough to not put them back on the rack. This woman drives a swanky Mercedes convertible. She complains about people who don’t work for what they get.

One day she gleefully admitted that she sneaks into movies. You may ask, why? Would it be okay to her if someone poor did the same thing? Probably not.

I think the givers are happier than the takers.

I’m not always a nice person. Sometimes I feel edgy and say something sarcastic to a person I care deeply about. When Brook was little she would often call me on being mad. I’d resist. “I’m not angry,” I’d angrily say. She knew better.

We don’t know what’s going on with a stranger but I figure it can’t hurt to say hello or make small talk, acknowledging someone who may be sad or lonely. That’s giving too.

As I get older I’ve decided the only thing that matters is to be a mensch — to be kind, smile readily (I used to think that was so pollyannish), and reduce the times I say, “yes but…”

I’ve learned to like being happy better than complaining. I’ve been there and it does no good for anyone.

Do you think happiness is a choice? I do. Circumstances and brain chemistry intervene, no doubt about it. Studying happiness seems to be in vogue. I know of a former attorney who has made a career of it. Good for her, I say, if she’s helping others learn to be happy.

Thanks to my friend Kasia (via author Elizabeth Gilbert) for posting about the happiness bottle. I can do this! Every evening, write a few words on a slip of paper about a happy moment during the day. Drop it in your happiness bottle. Amuse yourself on New Year’s day by reading about all those happy moments. Hey, it can’t hurt!

My only goal this year is to make a little more space in my head for appreciation of the present — start meditating again, even for a few minutes a day.

To all my dear family and friends, here’s to good health, good luck and

happy moments in 2015!

Here are some of mine: Dan flew to Jersey City with me for Thanksgiving with Brook and Gian. We’re about to ferry across the Hudson to NYC. Calling my kids on Christmas Day. Nothing makes me happier than to see them all together!

Posted in Family Matters, Fight wimpiness | Tagged being a mensch, complaining about others, happiness bottle, Happiness Project, kindness matters, meditation, New Year's hype | 2 Comments

We may be a family of turkeys…

Posted on November 28, 2014 by sheilawill

I’m “grated full” — as one of my U.S. history students years ago wrote — of gladness on the day after Thanksgiving (boo black Friday). Dan joined me in Jersey City for my favorite holiday, despite the cold, icy rain and too many people on the streets. He also surprised me by venturing into the city. WE met my oldest friend, Charlotte, at the Modern at MoMa for lunch. The snazziness and high prices were worth it, except the $16 mimosa (it was no different than a $3 one at Rincon Market in Tucson).

Dan, me and Brook ferrying across the Hudson today

Another surprise — after the seven-minute ferry ride from Jersey City across the Hudson — we took in the World Trade Center park with its haunting memorial.

I loved having Brook show us around, watching her and Dan chatting on the subway. What could be more pleasant for me than building those connections in people I love the most?

Dan’s back at the Newark airport waiting to return to our warm and lovely Tucson. Brook and I are relaxing, sipping Planet Oregon Pinot Noir. She finished preparing turkey soup for supper. The splendiferous aroma wafts across the room. In a while we’ll take the Path train back to lower Manhattan to see “Interstellar.”

Tomorrow Brook and I will get to see the Matisse cutouts exhibit at MoMa. A cheerful beginning to the fast approaching 2105. We’re so lucky that our days unfold as they do. Ups and downs, yes, but we’re healthy turkeys.

I’m grateful to yummy farm-fresh turkeys and to the silliness and welcoming presence of family and dear friends, even to a stranger who apologizes for stepping on my foot on the streets of New York.

Magnificent Thanksgiving table set by Brook and Gian, with a view of the NYC skyline out the window

Brook and Gian, Thanksgiving chefs/bakers par excellence!

Turkey soup, sharing caring, homemade biscuits, walking in crisp fresh air, chatting on a subway ride or just sitting around, knowing the next delicious meal will come.

How I wish this acceptance and opportunity could waft around our troubled world.

Posted in Family Matters, The Rest of the World | Tagged ferry across the Hudson, Jersey City, matisse cutouts, Newark airport, Thanksgiving, turkey soup, world peace, World Trade Center | Leave a comment

Back in the saddle of books: Texas here I come!

Posted on October 11, 2014 by sheilawill

Growing up in Connecticut didn’t stop me from imagining Texas just over the next hill. “Daddy, is that Texas?” I frequently asked my father on our Sunday rides to Blackie’s for hot dogs and chocolate milk.

I don’t recall wanting to be a cowgirl. Maybe Texas intrigued me because it was so darn big.

I’ve never lived in Texas, and I wasn’t too happy about Ethan going to grad school there. Much of the state’s population is so conservative, so gun-oriented (uh, how is that different from Arizona?).

In June I went to Austin, which is undoubtedly one of the hippest cities anywhere.

Steph, my fabulous future daughter-in-law, is the literary director of the Texas Book Festival, so I’ll be returning to Austin in two weeks. I’m thrilled that Steph asked me to moderate/interview Naomi Shihab Nye, one of my favorite poets and a remarkable human being.

I met Naomi in 1996 when she came to my bookstore in Southwest Harbor, Maine. She was visiting Ashley Bryan, a mutual friend and another remarkable human being.

Naomi and I had a lot in common. I introduced her to Greg Brown’s gravelly blues/folk music. I traveled to San Antonio to see her. She introduced me to a man whom she thought I’d like (that didn’t work out but no matter).

Way more important is knowing Naomi, her books of poetry — “Words Under the Words,” “Red Suitcase,” children’s books like “The Space Between Our Footsteps: Poems and Painting from the Middle East” and her latest middle-grade chapter book, “The Turtle of Oman.”

Naomi is a Palestinian-American. She’s a Texan who was born in Ferguson, Missouri (check out her recent NPR piece about Ferguson and Gaza). She’s a teacher and a believer in peace. She’s compassionate and joyful, straightforward and insightful. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, and I’m excited about talking books in Texas.

When it comes to promoting a love of books — this former bookseller is going to Texas — but I’m not riding off into the sunset yet.

Posted in Fight wimpiness, Mount Desert Island/Maine, politics, Tucson Festival of Books/good books | Tagged Austin hipness, Ferguson, Greg Brown, Naomi Shihab Nye, Oz Books, poetry, Southwest Harbor, Texas, Texas Book Festival | Leave a comment

Motherhood: 37 years/Tucson: 12 years

Posted on September 26, 2014 by sheilawill

How have 37 years gone by so quickly?

On Sept. 25, 1977, my beautiful daughter was born, the first newborn I ever held.

On Sept. 25, 2002, I drove into Tucson at sunset. “I don’t know what I’ll do now but I did it,” I said to myself. I had driven cross-country from Maine, without a job, without a place to live. I was 56 years old.

Thirty-seven years ago today there was no question what I would do. I would love my new baby girl. Watching her was my greatest joy; it still is.

Mama Sheila and baby Brook

Being a mother has taught me more about myself than anything else.

Sometimes being a mother and being a daughter get mixed up.

Today I realized that only two tangible things were left to me by my father: a beach blanket that we sat on during our summer vacations in Atlantic City and a manilla envelope with my name scrawled across it.

(What do you call these cardboardy envelopes? Anyone know?)

My mother seems to pop into my mind on her own, although she died 28 years ago. No tangible reminders necessary. I’ve mostly separated what’s me and what’s her — but still, she’s here.

I’m so proud of Brook. She knows who she is. She’s the most articulate, smartest person I know, and she’s funny. Really funny.

There’s still a lot I’d like to do. And after 12 years in Tucson? I’ll never get over living in the sunshine. I’ve made a lovely life for myself. And I hope to keep learning about life from my kids.

Our very own pool!

Posted in Bopping Around Tucson, Family Matters, Fight wimpiness | Tagged birthdays, grown children, living in Tucson, milestones in life, mothers and daughters | 4 Comments

Role models abound

Posted on September 21, 2014 by sheilawill

I’m old. I want to be older, but only if I can age like some of my new role models.

Who are they? Two women, now in their early 90s, who have been friends for more than 65 years; a couple, ages 77 and 82, former international teachers who are now both playwrights; the former director of Pima Council on Aging,who didn’t retire till she was 82 (that’s not for me); and a physician who’s dedicated more than 40 years of his life to cancer research and prevention.

I have a dear friend who came from Germany to the United States, post World War II, when she was around 5. Maybe I remember the day she arrived in first grade or maybe I only think I do. It doesn’t matter. We’ve known each other for nearly 65 years.

She attended our 50th high school reunion in Connecticut yesterday.

“What a hoot!” she emailed, along with photos of hardly anyone I recognized.

Who are these old folks at my 50th high school reunion?

They looked so old, even the one woman whom I envied back in high school. She was beautiful. She became an attorney. I have no idea what her life is like now. I’m happy with mine.

Women friends are part of my extended family. My old friend and I will get together in New York come Thanksgiving, as we try to every year. We always laugh, tell stories, and regale each other with different memories of our shared childhood.

The two Tucson pals I recently interviewed remind me of my friend and me, although we live thousands of miles apart. The Tucsonans (one a native who attends all the University of Arizona football games with her friend’s son-in-law) both still drive. They go out to dinner and see movies. They laugh — a lot. How sweet, smart, supportive and funny they were together. The hour I spent with them was a joyful experience.

I met the teacher couple at our local Starbucks. They walk three miles daily, ending their outing by sipping espressos. They’re the best of friends — both love movies, attending and writing plays, acting, directing, art, life and each other. And they’re so cheerful, positive and open. I love hanging out with them.

The artsy couple whose apartment feels like Upper East Side New York. They’re that cool!

Genevieve, my 92-year-old elegant Maine friend who died a few years ago, once said: “Sheila, you’re a bit of a shaman. You make things happen.”

As I grow older, I hope she’s right.

Posted in Baby Boomers, Bopping Around Tucson | Tagged aging, high school reunions, role models, women's friendships | 4 Comments

Tune-up for getting old (er)

Posted on August 30, 2014 by sheilawill

Life was going along smoothly. Kids okay, no tension at home, easy job compared to teaching. I was revved up for the three-day pre-nuptial Ethan and Steph celebration in Minneapolis last weekend.

Surprises at a family gathering…is anyone surprised? Old childhood insecurities popped up. I’m not getting enough attention. Nobody knows who I really am. I’m under-appreciated. I’m feeling awkward.

I’ve gotten tired of blaming my mother for any of my fears that were hers. She’s been gone for nearly 30 years. I’ve already changed my life once, perhaps even twice or more. Picked myself up and drove cross-country to Tucson when I was 56. I’ve been here nearly 12 years. I’m on my third career as a writer/editor.

Recognizing my lack of confidence in Minneapolis, when I got back to Tucson I scheduled a therapy tune-up. I want to be strong and happy at Ethan and Steph’s wedding in May.

Old stuff emerged when I least expected it. I was a big-time worrier when I was younger, not a difficult girl like Lena Dunham, who expected therapists to fix everything. But I used to call all my girlfriends for reassurance when a problem arose. I was a ruminator. At age 60 I finally submitted to anxiety medication. And that has made all the difference.

I’m not a worrier anymore. I’ve been happy living in the Tucson sunshine.

But I’m already old and getting older. My kids are all grown-up, launching their own lives. Will I ever be able to retire, write my own stuff?

Maybe I’m too hard on myself. I had a good time in Minneapolis — but not a perfect time. I loved seeing my kids so happy. We had fun conversations with interesting people. We had a lovely time cycling around Minneapolis, crossing the Mississippi River.

“You’re in transition,” my therapist said this week. It was a bit of a jolt. I’m going back to see her next month.

Posted in Baby Boomers, Family Matters, Fight wimpiness | Tagged anxiety meds, childhood insecurities, family gatherings, Lena Dunham, life transitions, Minneapolis | 4 Comments

I feel like Ms. Rumphius…I’m so lucky

Posted on July 20, 2014 by sheilawill

A highlight of summer in Maine is relaxation. I’ve relaxed so much this year that I feel tired. Maybe there’s something wrong with me. Is this what relaxation feels like? I’ve been spending a lot of time looking out the window in my lilac-covered bed.

True, I’m feeling my age more than ever, now that I’m 68. Can’t run up mountains as fast as I used to. This morning I went for a bike ride. Came home and felt energized so I started getting the house ready for me to leave at the end of the week, which lasted a short time before it was time to relax again.

Why not recount my comings and goings on Mount Desert Island this past month? Wonderful 4th of July week visit with Brook and Gian. Held a book-launch party for poet friend Weslea Sidon. Wonderland/Ship Harbor/Wonderland/Ship Harbor — probably walked each trail at least a half-dozen times (sat on the rocks at least twice enjoying long conversations with friends).

Gazing at the water is a prime activity…sparkling, rolling, crashing, calm. Only went swimming once — so far — in the velvety Somes Pond.

Four hikes. Three evenings having drinks at the new Claremont Boat House. Four or five crab rolls. Two dinners at Maine-ly Delights. No movies at Reel Pizza for the first time ever (nothing remotely decent playing).

On Tuesday, I’ll be hopping on the Cranberry Island ferry at the dock behind my house. Taking the short ride to Islesford to celebrate the opening of the Ashley Bryan Center. Ashley is a children’s author/artist/old friend — not because he turned 91 on July 13. He’s always been a shining role model of how much kinder human beings ought to treat each other.

My family of friends: Ashley is one I’ve known for at least 25 years. Visiting another dear friend, who’s surrounded by this same family of friends, was a highlight of my summer. She has a brain tumor. Her smile was as radiant as ever. We went for a walk. “I want to show you something pretty,” she told me, leading me down a dirt road into the woods.

Later, as I was getting into my car to go, she opened her screen door and called out, “Hey Sheila!”

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you too,” I told her, watching her go inside.

I’ll leave this remarkable place on Friday and return to my desert home. I’ve done what I’ve felt like doing, not as much running around as usual. I feel more grounded. I feel so lucky.

Shall I indulge in one more lobster at Thurston’s? I think so.

Posted in Baby Boomers, Mount Desert Island/Maine, Nature Girl | Tagged "Miss Rumphius", Acadia National Park, Ashley Bryan Center, family of friends, Islesford, Maine-ly Delights, Thurston's, Weslea Sidon | 9 Comments

A summer paradise at my Southwest Harbor home

Posted on July 12, 2014 by sheilawill

It’s 10:30 a.m. and I’ve been up since 6:30 a.m. Not exactly. I’m still in bed, looking out my window at the Cranberry Island ferry coming and going, sailboats gliding by, the one old house on Greening Island. Enjoying the most delightful breeze while reading “The Lowland” by Jhumpa Lahiri. Had my coffee and a piece of toast, which isn’t my usual breakfast. But this isn’t an ordinary day.

Maybe I’ll stay in bed all day. I’ve opted out of attending this weekend’s Quietside Festival’s parade. It’s funny, it’s fun and I’d see lots of people I know.

But I’ve decided to stay home.

Since my arrival July 1, I’ve been alternating daily walks at Wonderland and Ship Harbor down the road a piece in Acadia National Park. Brook and Gian went with me last week.

Maybe I’ll walk around Little Long Pond in Seal Harbor today. Maybe I’ll keep reading. What a treat to be on vacation! There’s something particularly extravagant having days on end to do whatever.

When Brook and Gian were here I retired every evening to my newly named “fainting couch” in the dining room. I could watch my beautiful daughter making dinner, while sipping sauvignon blanc. Later we played Bananagrams (still sipping sauvignon blanc).

Behold my privileged life as a summer person!

Last night, I attended a benefit for the fabulous Summer Festival of the Arts at the Common Good Cafe, (whose morning popovers are better than the fancy shmancy Jordan Pond House). The cafe is about a mile down the road, across the street from the ocean at the Seawall entrance to Acadia National Park.

So many people I knew were there — old students 20 years later, their kids performing as teenagers, part of the fabulous program where Brook wrote and sang and performed starting as a third grader (Ethan wasn’t as involved. He was too busy mowing lawns as the founder of E-Man’s Odd Jobs).

Old friends from our ongoing women’s group talked about growing older. A friend with a brain tumor greeted me with a big hug and radiant smile (fortunately, she’s in stable condition. She reminds me of Gabby Giffords). The amazing talents of Mount Desert Island young people were still apparent. Is there something in the air? Or is it something totally unique to this island community?

People who remembered me came over to say hello. The young drummer who played in the superb jazzy-blues combo, whom I’ve known for 30 years and is now a father, invited me to stop by his house. There’s such comfort in being here, such a rare sense of belonging. I’ll be back.

Posted in Mount Desert Island/Maine | Tagged Acadia National Park, Common Good Cafe, Mount Desert Island popovers, Seawall, Ship Harbor, Summer Festival of the Arts, The Quietside Festival | 15 Comments

A colorful day on my own

Posted on June 1, 2014 by sheilawill

My man is off on an adventure, which I applaud. Before we met eight years ago, I would schedule a day a month to do whatever I felt like, try something new. That was fun but today is different. I’m not alone anymore. Sure, I miss him. But I’m having a fun date with myself.

I woke up at 7 a.m. intending to climb Tumamoc, a steep hill that has a following of reverent hikers. I haven’t been there in a long time. After running out the door before it got too hot, I headed down quiet Congress Street. I didn’t find Tumamoc. (I’ll admit it, I got lost and didn’t take the time to check my Iphone).

Ah, it would have been too hot anyway. Then I remembered a piece in Thursday’s Caliente about walking downtown Tucson. So. I strolled down Meyer Street, Main Street and Grand. What I saw was similar to being in an outdoor art museum.

Breakfast was next at Cafe a la C’Art behind of the plaza of the actual Tucson Museum of Art.

After breakfast I headed to the St. Philip’s Plaza farmer’s market and chose fresh veggies for the week — a half-dozen asparagus stalks, tiny summer squash, fresh dill and thyme, perfectly round cherry tomatoes, a sprig of locally grown grapes –another kind of art (some of you know that I eat by color). The highlight of the outing was fresh-squeezed mango-melon juice. Yummmm!

On to the Chevron station to get gas. Gee, I’m proud of myself for washing the car windows, both front and back! What a day!

It’s 1 p.m. Here’s how the rest of my day looks: revise and work on a writing project, jump in the pool, call at least one of my kids, make a smoothie, see “Fading Gigolo” at the Loft. Jump in the pool again when I get home? Hmm…maybe.

Or I may change my mind and do something completely different. Who knows?

It’s supposed to hit 108 degrees in Tucson today! So. I laughed at this sign advertising an old barrio building for sale. Hot indeed.

How’s it going in your part of the world?

Posted in Bopping Around Tucson, The Rest of the World | Tagged Cafe a la C'Art, dating myself, downtown Tucson, farmers market, Loft Cinema, Tucson barrio, Tumamoc hill | 4 Comments

I worry about surveys

Posted on May 22, 2014 by sheilawill

I took my share of statistics as a political science major in college. As a teacher and journalist I’ve spent a lifetime asking questions, which can be difficult because no one is objective.

Consider the recent Anti-Defamation League survey on global anti-Semitism.

Jay Michaelson, an ordained rabbi and lifelong Jewish educator, took the survey and writes “I Am 1 Billionth Anti-Semite” on forward.com.

How do some 50,ooo people around the world answer questions such as “Do Jews have too much power in the business world?” Interpretations of the question may be as different as the miles that separate people.

“Well, what’s meant by ‘too much?'” asks Michaelson. “We do certainly have disproportionate power, relative to our population. Do we use it for nefarious, Elders of Zion purposes? No, but that’s not what the question asks. As a purely statistical matter, Jews have ‘too much’ power in the business world relative to our numbers.”

So much of life is about perception. How can you quantify perception? Talk with an individual longer than asking 11 questions that require a yes or no answer.

People participating in a survey may say what they expect the questioner wants to hear.

And what comes out of a person’s mouth at any given moment is only the tip of the iceberg. Any analysis is, at the very least, tricky.

That’s why I worry about surveys.

Posted in Journalism/Writing, The inconvenient truth about education, The Rest of the World | Tagged ADL survey, objectivity, Rabbi Jay Michaelson, statistics, teaching and perception, tip of the iceberg | 4 Comments