Introducing my new writing friend, Deborah Kalan

Deborah and I met in Pilates class. We never said more than hello for about six months until one day I mentioned I had to rush away after class because I had a lot of work to do. She asked what I did, and when I said I am a writer, her eyes lit up. She said, “I’m a writer too.” And our friendship was off and running. I’ve read a lot of her stories, and I totally agree. She is a writer. I’m so happy to introduce her work to you.

My Writing Life

By Deborah Kalan

I have been writing seriously since my eleventh birthday when I received a leatherette diary the color of blue Irises. The diary was secured with a little strap that had a gold lock and two gold keys. On the front of it were the words “Dear Diary.” Each page was divided into five sections of about five lines, which in my 11-year-old mind, restricted me to extremely brief entries. 

In those days, I mostly wrote about boys. The cute ones, the creepy ones, the ones that liked me, the ones that I liked who didn’t like me. Because the blank pages were there, I felt compelled to write. I remember always feeling a sense of accomplishment, completion, when I finished my daily entry.

As my writing progressed, I wrote in a variety of journals, which I often spent hours choosing. A new journal is like a new beginning for me. The cover has to speak to me. The size and weight of it needs to feel just right. I often have two or more journals that I write in simultaneously. At one period in my life when I was going through a difficult time with my daughter, I had a “negative” journal and a “positive” one. It helped me to keep the bad karma in a separate place so that it wouldn’t spill over and spoil the good stuff.

In the beginning, along with journaling, I wrote children’s stories.  But, as my children grew and matured, I began to lose the child’s voice that was in me. It was then that my writing turned to grown up fiction, as well as essays and poetry. I knew I had a talent for writing, but because I rarely submitted my work and was not published, I had a difficult time calling myself a writer. One day I read something that said,  “if you write, you’re a writer.” I have since kept that as a sort of mantra for my self-identity. 

Other than my husband and my beautiful 91-year-old mother, who are my biggest fans, I rarely shared my writing with anyone. Just recently, through the encouragement of a dear friend of mine who is an accomplished author, I have begun to expose myself through my writing on various social network sights. After working on a piece, tweaking it, re-tweaking it, reading and rereading it, I paste it, and post it and swallow a satisfying gulp of achievement.  And then I wait. I check the sight every few minutes at first. Did anyone see it? Did anyone like it? Did they comment? And then the kudos start to come in. Sometimes there are a few comments. Sometimes a lot and sometimes none. It feels great to send my words out to the universe and hope that something I say, some group of words or stack of sentences might affect someone in a positive, reflective way. That’s when I know if I’m asked “what do you do”? I can casually and with great confidence say. “I’m a writer.”

About Deborah: The only problem with Deborah’s living arrangement is that I don’t get to see enough of her. I’m so happy to have this wonderful new friend in my life.

Deborah likes to describe her dual residences as living “bi-coastal.” She and her husband Harvey, of 41 plus years, and their “senior” dog Jackson, split their time between their homes in California. One is near the coast of Manhattan Beach and the other one is near the “coast” of Calabasas Lake. They have two grown and married children and two amazing grandchildren who are also Deborah’s devoted fans.

You can find Deborah on Facebook and read some of her stories on Storylane.

Megaformer – the new improved Pilates?

I took a Megaformer class last night, invited by a friend. She told me she loves it. She goes four or five times a week, so I had to find out what it was all about.

 Megaformer - works with spring resistance 

like the Pilates reformer

Well one thing is for sure – it’s tough. Forty-five minutes of constant motion - moving that Megaformer up and back while leaning on our hands or elbows. And although the moves looked similar to some of my normal Pilates exercises and even like some Yoga positions, the class was a combination of cardio and resistance that really got my heart racing and the sweat pouring out.

Although I felt I could keep up reasonably well, I don’t recommend it to someone who is just starting an exercise program. The advertisement that the class is for all levels is misleading. One has to be fit to gain the advantages of working with the Megaformer. Otherwise it will be hard to stay with the class.

Lots of planks 

Now, the question is: will I ever go again? Knowing me, probably. But I won’t rush into it. I like my morning Pilates sessions much better. They are calmer – no loud music, no shout outs by the instructor. And I always feel very worked out when I finish. 

A spring poem

I love Robert Lee Brewer's poetry prompts. He gives one out once a week except during poem a day challenges in April and November. I don't always do them on time or in order, but I eventually get through them. I guess he prompted us to write a spring poem at first bud. I'm a little late, but here it is.

I lay on the Pilates reformer

and push on the foot bar,

in and out, in and out.

My feet, first in the second position

at the corners of the footbar

then in first position at the center

with my heels locked tightly together,

I keep pushing and pulling.

Two red and one green springs

determine the weight

for these exercises.

And as my legs move back and forth

the springs squeak,

they yearn to stop,

they want to do no more work.

But I keep going.

I don’t listen to their moans

never giving those springs

a rest.

The last January 2012 small stones

January 22

Dark gray clouds cover the roaring waves. I wonder why the surfers aren't riding them instead of taking them them one by one lying down.

January 23

Kristi's photo was posted on Putting a Face on Suicide today. She was just 19 when she took her life. I wish I could share her huge eyes, her smooth skin, her friendly closed-mouth smile with you. She was beauty. And even that couldn't save her from a drug addiction that sucked the life out of her.

January 24

I met an old friend this morning and within five minutes of talking she was in tears. She told me about her mentally ill daughter in yet another healing institution. She's been in nine since she was thirteen; she is twenty now. I hope my writing will inspire my friend to take good care of herself. Her daughter will have to find her own way.

January 25

I was so proud of myself last evening for being an advocate in getting a mentally ill young man some help. I was told at ten in the evening that he would be in good hands and not to worry. But this morning the news is that he is still in harm's way, in a jail cell naked wrapped in a quilt and not eating and drinking, and I don't know what else I can do about it. I have never felt so frustrated. Unfortunately this story is bringing back bad memories of my son's behavior and how he was treated during his bipolar days.

January 26

Every time I am in Pilates class I hear Jeffery's mantra: shoulders in your back pockets, slight curve in the small of your back, sway your heel out just a bit, feel yourself getting taller with each breath. And you know what? At that moment, I do feel myself getting taller. But in the end, I'm still as short as I ever was. Pilates is a great stretch and mobility and agility exercise, but it's not going to make this vertically challenged person grow.

January 27

Every day I wake up stiff and slow, yet move with vigor again by the end of my morning workout. Then after five or six hours at my computer, my old lady stiffness returns. Ginger's massage helped yesterday. I wish I could afford one everyday.

January 28

I walk through the women's surrealistic art exhibit and stop in awe in front of the wedding portrait of Frieda Khalo and Diego Rivera. She made him seem a giant next to her. Yet she was a giant among the women artists of her time. This was a woman who died much too soon.

January 29

I watched a video called "Get in Line (Behind Tricia)" while sitting at the bar at LACMA. The action by seventeen dancers dressed in dirty white hoody robes was slow. They maneuvered long wooden poles into triangular, rectangular, and square configurations over and over again. When they finished, they set the poles down on the wooden floor, took off their robes, and walked in a line dressed in tangerine-colored togas. I'm lucky that I didn't have to see all eight hours of it.

January 30

There she is again with another pair of workout shoes. Today they are dark gray with a red Nike swish, red laces, and white soles. This pair perfectly accentuates her little workout short-shorts in an abstract print of blacks, lime greens and reds. This woman's closet must have more shoes than Imelda Marcos'. I've seen her in a dozen pairs of workout shoes at least.

January 31

In celebration of my husband's success, I had some sips of wine last night after a 30-day hiatus. It was a nice red Syrah. It felt smooth and dry going down, but as usual, it didn't give me a buzz.

Writing Your Way Home

A River of Stones

A change of pace

I've decided to lighten up on the subject today and write about my exercise program. Sometimes I get to thinking it's a heavy subject because I'm so obsessed about exercising (I do some form of exercise everyday), but it really doesn't comes close to some of the other subjects I've been writing about lately.

On December 13, 2007 I posted about the Health Miles program that I particpate in at my gym. (http://us.virginhealthmiles.com/pages/home.aspx) So if you care to read more information about the program please go there. 

The main thing I want to say about it now is that I've re-upped again into the Health Miles program for another year. My reup date was January 17, and since that date came and went and I'm still participating, it means that for the next year I'll be exercising at my usual pace yet again.

Every year I go through the same thoughts. Should I keep going or should I give myself a break? In 2007 I posed the same question and that was after being in the program for only one year. And I ask myself the question every year because staying in the program is very hard work. 

But it’s not all bad. It’s my self-challenge. No one is telling me that I have to wear a pedometer all day, every day and download my steps and record my daily exercise accomplishments. No one has told me that I have to pay the $10.00 a month for Health Miles to maintain a digital track of my every exercise move. I’m completely at choice. And, it’s all to the good. In exchange for the $1200 a year that it costs, each year that I’ve participated I’ve earned $250.00 and several hours of personal training sessions. I think I come out ahead in the long run. Plus I’m motivated to exercise. The pedometer is a huge motivator. And I think that anything that motivates me to exercise is a good thing. Plus I like the results.

I’ve been in this Health Miles program for over four years now, and in total I’ve amassed over 19,161,878 steps – an average of over 13,000 steps a day. And that doesn’t count Pilates, Yoga, and weight exercises.

Of course every year I say it’s time to slow down. I tell myself it’s okay to take a day off once in a while. It’s okay not to amass so many steps every day. Well, I haven’t followed up on that yet. Will this be the year that I slow down a bit? I’ll let you know.