Author: nagneberg48

Dear Subscriber…

/ nagneberg48 / 42 Comments

September 18, 2024

For several years my Monday routine has included writing my Tuesday post and often the one for Thursday as well, but this summer I discovered technical issues. You, as a subscriber or someone on my email lists, received my posts as usual, but the posts did not appear on the blog website. That meant others, who were not subscribers, did not have access to a new post.

After initially trying to figure out the problem myself, contacting WordPress and also researching YouTube for possible solutions, I decided it was time for a Summer Sabbatical. I adopted Scarlet O’Hara’s philosophy of “I’ll think about it tomorrow.”

Eventually, however, I got serious and hired professional help, but, even with the best efforts, the problem remained.

Now what?

I moved into a time of discernment, and I discovered a number of things about myself and this stage of my life.

  • I enjoyed the new spaciousness of my days. Writing the posts takes a good chunk of time. I have enjoyed over the years using my time in this way, but now I was aware of how much space the blog has been taking in my head and at the keyboard. I realized how I was always on the alert: what to write about; what images could accompany my words; and even as I took my morning walk I rehearsed how to write about an idea.
  • I missed being visible. One of the things that happens as one ages in our culture is that we tend to become invisible to others. The blog at least gave me the illusion that I had not disappeared, and my ego loved that (loves that!). I wonder what the invitation is here.
  • I have become aware of the need to pace myself more. Quite simply, I am not able to do as much in a day as I once did and that means paying more attention to my energy and my priorities. What exactly are those priorities? I asked myself.
  • I realized my reading life had become an obsession. My Thursday posts were devoted to books –my recommendations and news about books. Was I reading in order to write an interesting post? Well, not entirely, but maybe, just a bit. And being known as someone who reads A LOT and is in the know fed that ego of mine!

The Spiritual Practice of Aging

Someone asked me recently “What are you up to these days?” and I sort of stumbled an answer, just like I am vague when someone asks me if I have any travel plans. With further reflection, however, I realized that what I am up to these days is aging, being an elder, inhabiting this stage of my life.

And what does that look like? What do I hope that looks like? What does it include? And how do I live that, practice that?

I think it involves a certain degree of surrender. Real surrender, it seems to me, involves letting go before one is really prepared to do so, before one is ready. And the issues with my blog seems to be one of those times. Would I choose to stop writing a blog if I didn’t have these technical problems? Probably not, but perhaps, just perhaps, this is one of those God moments. Renita Weems in her book Listening for God calls it “Gotta be God,” as in this must be God whispering in my ear.

My life is deliciously full, and I am so grateful for the ways I am able to use what I think are my gifts. Planning and facilitating the weekly writing group at church brings me such joy. Sitting with my directees in spiritual direction is an ongoing privilege. Being able to respond to other invitations, including writing opportunities, introduces surprise into my life and often challenges me to stretch and to deepen.

At the same time I want and need to be more available to friends and family, especially as many are facing the challenges of aging.

I apologize. I have taken too long to say that it is time for me to let go of my blog, Living on Life’s Labyrinth. The site will stay available for past posts and who knows maybe someday a solution to the technical issue will magically be solved or perhaps I will decide to start a new blog. But this is my decision for right now. This is what feels right and possible at this moment.

I am so grateful to all of you have read me faithfully, have made comments along the way, offered kind words, and shared my posts with others. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

My Parting Gift: Summer Reading Summary

Much of my summer reading has been for an article I am writing for BookWomen, A Readers Community for Those Who Love Women’s Words www.bookwomen.net about spiritual memoirs written by women, but, of course, I read some wonderful fiction, too. Here’s my list of favorites from June, July, and August.

  • Long Island by Colm Toibin (2024)
  • The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julia Alvarez (2024)
  • Family, Family by Laurie Frankel (2024)
  • Lucky by Jane Smiley (2024)
  • The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club by Helen Simonson (2024)
  • The Lost Art of Mixing by Erica Bauermeister (2013)
  • Forgotten on Sunday by Valerie Perrin (2015 in France, translated, 2023)
  • We Are the Brennans by Tracey Lange (2021)
  • Sandwich by Catherine Newman (2024)
  • How to Read a Book by Monica Wood (2024)
  • You Are Here by David Nicholls (2024)
  • Found in a Bookshop by Stephanie Butland (2023)
  • In My Father’s House by Joseph O’Connor (2023)
  • The First Ladies by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray (2023)
  • Loved and Missed by Susan Boyt (2021)
  • Family Happiness by Laurie Colwin (1982)
  • The Wife by Meg Wolitzer (2003)
  • The Measure by Nikki Erlick (2022)

An Invitation

This is normally the spot where I pose a question for your reflection and invite your comments. Today I invite you to consider how you might adopt the spiritual practice of aging. I can still read any comments, if you care to send them, but the question–a big one–is more for your own contemplation.

Again, thank you for reading. I have loved having you along on this adventure. May your days living on life’s labyrinth be blessed.

A Technical Trial

/ nagneberg48 / 8 Comments

July 16, 2024

A couple readers have offered suggestions about how to solve the technical issue I currently have–new posts are not published on the website. So… this is a trial run to see if I have corrected the problem. My apologies to those who subscribe to the post and will receive this practice post.

Bruce and I were recently on a two hour cruise on the Mississippi River with a group from our church. A perfectly delightful evening.

Now I am going to hit “publish” and see what happens! Thanks for your patience.

Preparing for Morning Meditation Time

/ nagneberg48 / 8 Comments

July 16, 2024

NOTE: If you have already received this post, my apologies. I am trying to fix some technical difficulties.

Some mornings need no preparation.

I make the bed and brush my teeth and head into the snug for my morning meditation time. I read a devotion or two, write in my journal, and sit in the silence, praying with words or simply an open heart. Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out, gently, finding my own rhythm.

Some days I sit there longer than others, but no matter the length of time, I feel more prepared for the day. More open to whatever is planned. And whatever is unplanned. I have learned over the years that if this morning time is absent from my day for more than two or three days, I am not as present to the movement of God in my life or even my own movements. I tend to trip or slip or become fuzzy or light-headed–metaphorically, but sometimes even actually. This morning time is key to my functioning, to my balance, to finding my own rhythm and being able to respond to the rhythms swirling around me.

But some days I need to prepare myself for the ritual preparation for the day. Yesterday was one of those days perhaps because of the upsetting weekend events and the ensuing commentary and knowing that the Republican convention was about to begin.

I knew I needed to calm myself before I could calm myself!

Shouldn’t making my bed and going for a walk be enough? Well, no, for frankly those feel like “shoulds” in my life. I wish I didn’t think about my morning walk in that way, but as long as this heat smolders me, I’m afraid the walk is something to check off my list more than a pleasure. I plod forward and try to remind myself to notice the gardens and wish summer blessings to dog walkers and those dashing to their cars with kids destined for daycare, but I just feel sweaty.

Sometimes I admit there is an unexpected delight. One morning last week I was trudging along, wishing I was on the return route, and I heard a sweet, slightly off tune voice singing “Old MacDonald Had a Farm.” A little girl, maybe age 4, and her Daddy were walking behind me to the daycare center across from the Catholic church in our neighborhood. She repeated the verse about the cow several times and didn’t always include “E-I-E-I-O,” but no matter, I was honored to be her audience. I felt blessed.

Unfortunately, I experienced no such treat Monday morning and felt only self-righteous about exercising in spite of the heat and the on-again, off-again sprinkles. I was not ready to enter meditation and I knew it. What to do?

I cut daisies for a new bouquet on the dining room table.

I swept the walk and the steps leading to our front door.

I took a shower.

And then I was ready, and I entered the snug and my morning meditation time.

Now I realize that morning meditation time does not require preparation. It is normally a “come as you are” activity, but sometimes I know I will benefit even more from that time if I can bring some small slice of serenity into the space. These brief clearing the space moments are not distractions. They are not ways of putting off what I know I must do, but, instead they are part of a progression, a procession into the meditation time.

Prayers for These Days

Turning to the light
the light turns to us.
Moving toward the source
the source moves us.
Holding on to hope
hope holds on to us.
            Padraig O'Tuoma in Being Here, Prayers for Curiosity, Justice, and Love

Prayer of the Day, Sunday, July 15, 2024
O, God, from you come all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just works. 
Give to us, your servants, that peace which the world cannot give, that our hearts may be set to obey your commandments; and also that we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may live in peace and quietness, through Jesus Christ , our Savior and Lord. Amen.

An Announcement and a Request

I learned last week, thanks to a reader, that my posts are not appearing on my website. Those who subscribe or find me on Facebook or are on my email list receive the posts, but if anyone goes to my website https://livingonlifeslabyrinth, the last post published was on June 13, 2024. I have requested help from WordPress, but that was not helpful, and I have watched some YouTube videos, which also did not solve the problem. I may end up using the Geek Squad at Best Buy, but that involves leaving my laptop with them, and that just isn’t convenient right now.

So here’s my plan: a time-out. I always wonder when these kinds of interruptions and/or technical issues arise if I am getting a message to do something else or not do anything at all. I have been a blogger for 15 years or so and perhaps it is time to end that chapter of my life. I don’t think so, but I need to sit with that question. Summer seems like a good time to do that.

So I am taking a break.

At the same time if anyone in the St Paul area has a suggestion about someone who is in the business of solving all things technical and will make a house call, I am open to recommendations.

May all be well with you and I wish you summer blessings.

An Invitation

What activities prepare you or lead you to times of focused meditation? I would love to know.



Book Report: Two New Novels For Your Summer Reading

/ nagneberg48 / Leave a comment

July 11, 2024

Version 1.0.0

The 4th of July holiday week was quiet at our house, and you can guess what I did! I enjoyed the spaciousness of the days with a book on my lap. I moved from the snug to the patio to the comfortable chair with an ottoman in the entryway to the side garden we call “Paris,” and I read. My kind of holiday.

Sandwich by Catherine Newman (2024, 226 pages)

I LOVED this book, and so did Ann Patchett. I will read almost anything she recommends. 

Sandwich is joy in book form. I laughed continuously, except for the parts that made me cry. Catherine Newman does a miraculous job reminding us of all the wonder there is to be found in life.

Every year for the past two decades Rocky and her family spend a week at a modest beach rental in Cape Cod. This year is no exception, but this year Rocky’s husband Nick and their two adult children, Willa and Jamie are joined by Jamie’s girlfriend Maya and also for a couple days by her aging parents. (Why is it parents of middle aged children are always referred to as “aging parents.” Aren’t we all aging? Sigh.)

At one point when both my husband and I were reading on the patio, he actually had to go inside the house because I was laughing out loud so frequently while reading this funny, yet poignant book of family life, past and present. 

p. 24. Forty minutes later, we are walking back to the cottage with two lattes, four chocolate croissants, one scone, three baguettes, and a receipt for sixty-five dollars.

p. 45. ("Dad and I defrosted the chest freezer" is an actual text I once sent in response to a question about our weekend and how it was going.)

p. 97. Menopause feels like a slow leak: thoughts leaking out of your head; flesh leaking out of your skin; fluid leaking out of your joints. You need a lube job, is how you feel. Body work. Whatever you need, it sounds like a mechanic might be required, since something is seriously amiss with your head gasket.
                   You finally understand the word crepey as it applies to skin--although you could actually apply this word to to your ass as well, less in the crepe-paper sense than the flat-pancake one. Activities that might injure you include ping-pong, napping, and opening a tub of yogurt...



So many novels I read about family life, domestic fiction, focus on the dysfunction, but I loved this one for it focuses on the love. This family is not perfect, nor are any of these characters perfect, but they love one another, and they love that they are a family. And yes, there are secrets held from one another–some of which are revealed during this week at the Cape, but once again you sense as a reader that the bond with one another is soul-deep.

p. 121.         Rocky's father says, "It is a privilege to grow old. We are lucky to be here."
                    "We really are," my mother says. I cry a little then, because of the conversation and the wine and this absolute devastation and blessedness, rolled up into a lump in my own throat that I have been trying to swallow for my whole life.
                      Life is a seesaw, and I am standing dead center, still and balanced: living kids on one side, living parents on the other. Nicky here with me at the fulcrum. Don't move a muscle, I think. But I will, of course. You have to.

I repeat: I loved this book and so did Ann Patchett.

One more thing: I think Catherine Newman and I share the same taste in clothes. I am quite sure in her photo on the back flap that she is wearing the same blouse I am wearing right now.

Sorry–one more thing: I also really liked her earlier novel, We All Want Impossible Things. She has written memoirs, too, Waiting for Birdy, and Catastrophic Happiness and you can bet they are now on my TBR.

Real Americans by Rachel Khong (2024, 395 pages)

So often the blurb on the inside cover of a book is overblown, but this time the book lives up to the description.

In immersive, moving prose, Rachel Chong weaves a profound tale of class and striving, race and visibility, and family and inheritance, a story of trust, forgiveness, and finally coming home. Exuberant and explosive grand and entertaining, Real Americans is an inquiry into the forces that roil our new century: Are we destined or made? And, if the latter, who gets to do the making?"

This novel is divided into three parts. In part one Lily Chen is an unpaid intern for a large media company and she meets wealthy Matthew, heir to a pharmaceutical company. Lily’s parents are scientists who fled Mao’s China. Matthew and Lily fall in love and marry. Their son Nick is the focus of part two. Lily and Matthew have divorced and teenager Nick knows nothing about his father–until he takes a DNA test. In part three we learn about Lily’s mother May, beginning with her life in China, eventually fleeing to Hong Kong and then the US. Lily and May are estranged from one another.

The story certainly kept me engaged, although at times, especially in part two when I got tired of the college angst and behavior, I hoped for more answers to unanswered questions. I felt there were gaps along the way, such as why is it that Lily and Matthew got divorced anyway? However, that being said, this book would be an excellent book group selection–lots to talk about.

A favorite quote:

p. 363. Once she had believed that connection meant sameness, consensus, harmony. having everything in common. And now she understood that the opposite was true: that connection was more valuable--more remarkable--for the fact of differences. Friendship didn't require blunting the richness of yourself to find common ground. Sometimes it was that, but it was also appreciating another person, in all their particularity.

My daughter has read this book (actually, she read Sandwich, too, and loved it, as did Ann Patchett), and enjoyed it, too, and also highly recommends the author’s earlier novel, Goodbye, Vitamin.

An Invitation

Did your 4th of July week include any reading time? I would love to know.

Book Report: Two New Novels For Your Summer Reading

/ nagneberg48 / 5 Comments

July 11, 2024

Version 1.0.0

The 4th of July holiday week was quiet at our house, and you can guess what I did! I enjoyed the spaciousness of the days with a book on my lap. I moved from the snug to the patio to the comfortable chair with an ottoman in the entryway to the side garden we call “Paris,” and I read. My kind of holiday.

Sandwich by Catherine Newman (2024, 226 pages)

I LOVED this book, and so did Ann Patchett. I will read almost anything she recommends. 

Sandwich is joy in book form. I laughed continuously, except for the parts that made me cry. Catherine Newman does a miraculous job reminding us of all the wonder there is to be found in life.

Every year for the past two decades Rocky and her family spend a week at a modest beach rental in Cape Cod. This year is no exception, but this year Rocky’s husband Nick and their two adult children, Willa and Jamie are joined by Jamie’s girlfriend Maya and also for a couple days by her aging parents. (Why is it parents of middle aged children are always referred to as “aging parents.” Aren’t we all aging? Sigh.)

At one point when both my husband and I were reading on the patio, he actually had to go inside the house because I was laughing out loud so frequently while reading this funny, yet poignant book of family life, past and present. 

p. 24. Forty minutes later, we are walking back to the cottage with two lattes, four chocolate croissants, one scone, three baguettes, and a receipt for sixty-five dollars.

p. 45. ("Dad and I defrosted the chest freezer" is an actual text I once sent in response to a question about our weekend and how it was going.)

p. 97. Menopause feels like a slow leak: thoughts leaking out of your head; flesh leaking out of your skin; fluid leaking out of your joints. You need a lube job, is how you feel. Body work. Whatever you need, it sounds like a mechanic might be required, since something is seriously amiss with your head gasket.
                   You finally understand the word crepey as it applies to skin--although you could actually apply this word to to your ass as well, less in the crepe-paper sense than the flat-pancake one. Activities that might injure you include ping-pong, napping, and opening a tub of yogurt...



So many novels I read about family life, domestic fiction, focus on the dysfunction, but I loved this one for it focuses on the love. This family is not perfect, nor are any of these characters perfect, but they love one another, and they love that they are a family. And yes, there are secrets held from one another–some of which are revealed during this week at the Cape, but once again you sense as a reader that the bond with one another is soul-deep.

p. 121.         Rocky's father says, "It is a privilege to grow old. We are lucky to be here."
                    "We really are," my mother says. I cry a little then, because of the conversation and the wine and this absolute devastation and blessedness, rolled up into a lump in my own throat that I have been trying to swallow for my whole life.
                      Life is a seesaw, and I am standing dead center, still and balanced: living kids on one side, living parents on the other. Nicky here with me at the fulcrum. Don't move a muscle, I think. But I will, of course. You have to.

I repeat: I loved this book and so did Ann Patchett.

One more thing: I think Catherine Newman and I share the same taste in clothes. I am quite sure in her photo on the back flap that she is wearing the same blouse I am wearing right now.

Sorry–one more thing: I also really liked her earlier novel, We All Want Impossible Things. She has written memoirs, too, Waiting for Birdy, and Catastrophic Happiness and you can bet they are now on my TBR.

Real Americans by Rachel Khong (2024, 395 pages)

So often the blurb on the inside cover of a book is overblown, but this time the book lives up to the description.

In immersive, moving prose, Rachel Chong weaves a profound tale of class and striving, race and visibility, and family and inheritance, a story of trust, forgiveness, and finally coming home. Exuberant and explosive grand and entertaining, Real Americans is an inquiry into the forces that roil our new century: Are we destined or made? And, if the latter, who gets to do the making?"

This novel is divided into three parts. In part one Lily Chen is an unpaid intern for a large media company and she meets wealthy Matthew, heir to a pharmaceutical company. Lily’s parents are scientists who fled Mao’s China. Matthew and Lily fall in love and marry. Their son Nick is the focus of part two. Lily and Matthew have divorced and teenager Nick knows nothing about his father–until he takes a DNA test. In part three we learn about Lily’s mother May, beginning with her life in China, eventually fleeing to Hong Kong and then the US. Lily and May are estranged from one another.

The story certainly kept me engaged, although at times, especially in part two when I got tired of the college angst and behavior, I hoped for more answers to unanswered questions. I felt there were gaps along the way, such as why is it that Lily and Matthew got divorced anyway? However, that being said, this book would be an excellent book group selection–lots to talk about.

A favorite quote:

p. 363. Once she had believed that connection meant sameness, consensus, harmony. having everything in common. And now she understood that the opposite was true: that connection was more valuable--more remarkable--for the fact of differences. Friendship didn't require blunting the richness of yourself to find common ground. Sometimes it was that, but it was also appreciating another person, in all their particularity.

My daughter has read this book (actually, she read Sandwich, too, and loved it, as did Ann Patchett), and enjoyed it, too, and also highly recommends the author’s earlier novel, Goodbye, Vitamin.

An Invitation

Did your 4th of July week include any reading time? I would love to know.

Book Report: Two New Novels For Your Summer Reading

/ nagneberg48 / 4 Comments

July 11, 2024

Version 1.0.0

The 4th of July holiday week was quiet at our house, and you can guess what I did! I enjoyed the spaciousness of the days with a book on my lap. I moved from the snug to the patio to the comfortable chair with an ottoman in the entryway to the side garden we call “Paris,” and I read. My kind of holiday.

Sandwich by Catherine Newman (2024, 226 pages)

I LOVED this book, and so did Ann Patchett. I will read almost anything she recommends. 

Sandwich is joy in book form. I laughed continuously, except for the parts that made me cry. Catherine Newman does a miraculous job reminding us of all the wonder there is to be found in life.

Every year for the past two decades Rocky and her family spend a week at a modest beach rental in Cape Cod. This year is no exception, but this year Rocky’s husband Nick and their two adult children, Willa and Jamie are joined by Jamie’s girlfriend Maya and also for a couple days by her aging parents. (Why is it parents of middle aged children are always referred to as “aging parents.” Aren’t we all aging? Sigh.)

At one point when both my husband and I were reading on the patio, he actually had to go inside the house because I was laughing out loud so frequently while reading this funny, yet poignant book of family life, past and present. 

p. 24. Forty minutes later, we are walking back to the cottage with two lattes, four chocolate croissants, one scone, three baguettes, and a receipt for sixty-five dollars.

p. 45. ("Dad and I defrosted the chest freezer" is an actual text I once sent in response to a question about our weekend and how it was going.)

p. 97. Menopause feels like a slow leak: thoughts leaking out of your head; flesh leaking out of your skin; fluid leaking out of your joints. You need a lube job, is how you feel. Body work. Whatever you need, it sounds like a mechanic might be required, since something is seriously amiss with your head gasket.
                   You finally understand the word crepey as it applies to skin--although you could actually apply this word to to your ass as well, less in the crepe-paper sense than the flat-pancake one. Activities that might injure you include ping-pong, napping, and opening a tub of yogurt...



So many novels I read about family life, domestic fiction, focus on the dysfunction, but I loved this one for it focuses on the love. This family is not perfect, nor are any of these characters perfect, but they love one another, and they love that they are a family. And yes, there are secrets held from one another–some of which are revealed during this week at the Cape, but once again you sense as a reader that the bond with one another is soul-deep.

p. 121.         Rocky's father says, "It is a privilege to grow old. We are lucky to be here."
                    "We really are," my mother says. I cry a little then, because of the conversation and the wine and this absolute devastation and blessedness, rolled up into a lump in my own throat that I have been trying to swallow for my whole life.
                      Life is a seesaw, and I am standing dead center, still and balanced: living kids on one side, living parents on the other. Nicky here with me at the fulcrum. Don't move a muscle, I think. But I will, of course. You have to.

I repeat: I loved this book and so did Ann Patchett.

One more thing: I think Catherine Newman and I share the same taste in clothes. I am quite sure in her photo on the back flap that she is wearing the same blouse I am wearing right now.

Sorry–one more thing: I also really liked her earlier novel, We All Want Impossible Things. She has written memoirs, too, Waiting for Birdy, and Catastrophic Happiness and you can bet they are now on my TBR.

Real Americans by Rachel Khong (2024, 395 pages)

So often the blurb on the inside cover of a book is overblown, but this time the book lives up to the description.

In immersive, moving prose, Rachel Chong weaves a profound tale of class and striving, race and visibility, and family and inheritance, a story of trust, forgiveness, and finally coming home. Exuberant and explosive grand and entertaining, Real Americans is an inquiry into the forces that roil our new century: Are we destined or made? And, if the latter, who gets to do the making?"

This novel is divided into three parts. In part one Lily Chen is an unpaid intern for a large media company and she meets wealthy Matthew, heir to a pharmaceutical company. Lily’s parents are scientists who fled Mao’s China. Matthew and Lily fall in love and marry. Their son Nick is the focus of part two. Lily and Matthew have divorced and teenager Nick knows nothing about his father–until he takes a DNA test. In part three we learn about Lily’s mother May, beginning with her life in China, eventually fleeing to Hong Kong and then the US. Lily and May are estranged from one another.

The story certainly kept me engaged, although at times, especially in part two when I got tired of the college angst and behavior, I hoped for more answers to unanswered questions. I felt there were gaps along the way, such as why is it that Lily and Matthew got divorced anyway? However, that being said, this book would be an excellent book group selection–lots to talk about.

A favorite quote:

p. 363. Once she had believed that connection meant sameness, consensus, harmony. having everything in common. And now she understood that the opposite was true: that connection was more valuable--more remarkable--for the fact of differences. Friendship didn't require blunting the richness of yourself to find common ground. Sometimes it was that, but it was also appreciating another person, in all their particularity.

My daughter has read this book (actually, she read Sandwich, too, and loved it, as did Ann Patchett), and enjoyed it, too, and also highly recommends the author’s earlier novel, Goodbye, Vitamin.

An Invitation

Did your 4th of July week include any reading time? I would love to know.

Following Foolproof Directions

/ nagneberg48 / Leave a comment

July 9, 2024

Monday morning. “Really?” I moaned when I looked at the clock. 5:30. I wasn’t ready to fully enter the day, but on the other hand, I knew if I went back to sleep, I would sleep later than I wanted to. After all the Monday list was long.

What did I do? I closed my eyes and went back to sleep. For another hour and 15 minutes. I’m usually getting ready for my morning walk by then. Oh well.

I made the bed. At least I had accomplished one thing, I reassured myself. Little by little I did what needed to be done in order to go for a walk. I admit I don’t’ head out on a walk eagerly. I really prefer sitting in the snug, reading my current book. But going for a morning walk is on the list, and it is good for me. Some writers say they love having written, more than actually writing. Well, I am happier when I’ve completed my walk more than when I am actually walking. I must say, however, that right now what a pleasure it is to see the exuberant gardens in so many homes.

Once home, dripping in sweat, because that’s what my body does, even when it is only warm and not hot, the next step was to take a shower. The bathroom with the shower is on the lower level of the house, which is not where my clothes closet and dresser are located. Normally, that is not an issue, but yesterday I needed to return to the first floor not once, but twice to get what I needed to be fully clothed.

Ok, I was finally ready to enter the day.

On my list was to make egg salad, and I was proud of myself for cutting the chives before taking my shower and washing off the insect repellant needed when I walk. You see getting to the chives, once visible, but now hidden among other fully grown plants, is no small task, and I had jungled my way to them. (Yes, I know “jungle” is not a verb.)

I have foolproof directions for hard boiled eggs.

  • Place eggs in large pot and cover with cool tap water.
  • Bring water to boil, lower heat and simmer for five minutes.
  • Turn off heat and let eggs sit in water for five minutes.
  • Drain. Fill pot with cold water.
  • To peel, tap each end on a board, roll egg between hand and board to crackle the shell.
  • Peel under running tap water and let cool to room temperature.

The directions are only foolproof, however, when they are followed.

First mistake: when the water boiled, I set the timer on my phone to five minutes, but I forgot to press “start.”

Second mistake: After wondering how long the eggs had been simmering, I set the timer again for five minutes and AGAIN–I kid you not–forgot to press “start.”

I have no idea if I estimated the time as too long or not enough, but when I tried peeling the eggs…well, let’s just say, I needed to start all over. And I did, and this time, I focused on the directions, and guess what? They worked, and I made delicious egg salad for sandwiches.

By this time it was already midmorning, and normally, I would have written my Tuesday post and would be ready to work on Thursday’s post or another item on my list–a list this week that is longer than any previous week this summer. Yesterday, however, I had no idea what to write.

Here’s where the day shifted.

What I most needed was to follow my own foolproof directions.

  • Close my eyes, lightly, not tightly, and take a deep cleansing breath
  • Continue breathing gently, in and out, finding my own rhythm.
  • As thoughts and ideas, worries and concerns enter my head, invite them to step aside. They will be there later, if I need them.
  • Remain in the stillness, the silence, the spaciousness and allow the presence of God to enfold me.
  • When it is time, and I will know when it is time, I take another deep cleansing breath and open my eyes.

I know these directions are foolproof, so why is it I forget to follow them? Why do I resist? Why do I forget that in order to be the movement of God, I must welcome and notice the movement of God.

I am not suggesting that the rest of the day proceeded smoothly and that I accomplished everything on my too long list, but I did write this post. I enjoyed an egg salad sandwich for lunch. I met with a client whom I love, and I was able to be present to her. I checked off a few small items on my list. I had time to read in the snug. And most of all, I moved through the day in a more grace-filled way.

Sometimes it just takes following directions.

An Invitation

What are your “foolproof directions”? I would love to know.

Book Report: June Summary

/ nagneberg48 / Leave a comment

July 4, 2024

June was a month of mainly reading new novels.

  • Long Island by Colm Toibin
  • The Cemetery of Untold Stories by Julia Alvarez
  • Family Family by Laurie Frankl
  • Lucky by Jane Smiley
  • The Hazelbourne Ladies Motorcycle and Flying Club by Helen Simonson
  • The Comfort of Ghosts by Jacqueline WInspear
  • Forgotten Sunday by Valerie Perrin

I wrote about each of these books in my June posts. https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/3698 https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/3666 https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/3634

Summer Reading Plan Check-in and Update

It was also a month to begin my summer reading plan. My intention was to choose one shelf in the library and read whatever appealed to me on that shelf. I chose shelf #14, Barry to Bausch. Often when I go to a bookstore I add at least one Wild Card book to my purchases–books not on my TBR list and even books I may never have heard of. Well, Shelf #14 was my Wild Card Shelf.

Notice I said “was.” This past month I did read two books from that shelf, both by Erica Bauermeister. One was The Lost Art of Mixing (2013) https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/3666 and the other was The Scent Keeper (2019). I probably would not have read this book based on a review, for the story of a young girl who lives on an island with her eccentric father who “saves” scents seemed too quirky, too fairy tale-ish for my taste. But Bauermeister is such a good storyteller, often so insightful, and I allowed myself to live in that world.

Grief makes a tunnel of our lives, and it is all too easy to lose sight of the other people in the darkness with us--to wish they weren't there, so their loss would stop rubbing up against ours. My father and I desperately needed open space, clean air for our pain to move into. But all we could do was wait." p. 45


There was one other Bauermeister book on my Wild Card Shelf, No Two Persons, but I had read that already, so my next step was to choose the next Wild Card Book. One by one I read the inside flap of each book, along with the first few pages. And none of them appealed to me. I almost checked out another one, urging myself to take a chance, and then I remembered that I made the rules (guidelines) for my Summer Reading Plan, and if I wanted to change them, ignore them, or even pretend they never existed, I can do that. I have agency in my reading life!

My next step was to see if there were any of my TBR list books on one of the shelves in my library of choice–books I would not have to request–and I found We Are the Brennans by Tracey Lange (2021). One of my favorite genres is domestic novels, which always seem to involve family secrets. There were more than one in this book to keep the plot moving. Sunday, the daughter in the Brennan family is in a car accident and charged with drunk driving, and her brother Denny brings her back home to NY from California to recover and because he needs her help. He has gotten himself into a tangled financial mess. Why she moved away from the family has always been a mystery. I must say I was right with the author until the last page or two. I won’t say more, because you might feel differently about the ending.

13 Books: 11 Novels and 2 Nonfiction

The other fiction book I read in June was on my own shelf; one of the books my husband gave me for my spring birthday. Mastering the Art of French Murder by Colleen Cambridge (2023) is a fun, light read set in Paris. Tabitha, an American, lives with her French grandfather and becomes good friends with Julia Child, who just happens to live across the road. After a late night party in the Child residence a woman is found dead, and the murder weapon is one of Julia’s chef knives, and there is a note in the woman’s pocket written in Tabitha’s handwriting. Oh dear!

This was not a month of reading much nonfiction. Truth told, I don’t read much nonfiction, but I do always have a meditation, spiritual book as a companion during my prayer time. In June I read Padraig O’ Tuama’s Being Here, Prayers for Curiosity, Justice, and Love (2024. Along with devotions for each day, additional prayers and short reflections were included. A gem of a book, which I have referred to in some of my June posts, and I know I will turn to it again.

Turning to the day
and to each other
     We open ourselves to the day
     and each other.
This is the day that the Lord has made ,
and a day we'll have to make our way through...


I also read Wild Atlantic Women, Walking Ireland’s West Coast by Grainne Lyons (2023). I bought this book at an excellent independent book store in Door County when we were there in April. It was a Wild Card selection. The author who has an Irish heritage, but lives in London decided to undertake a kind of pilgrimage–to walk in the steps of eleven pioneering Irish women and in the process reflect on her own identity. The only woman somewhat familiar to me is the writer Edna O’Brien who is perhaps best known for her novel The Country Girls, which I have not read, but own. (Is it time to read it?) The other women include a scientist, a storyteller, an activist, a lacemaker, a knitter, a “pirate queen,” and a figure of Irish legends, Queen Maeve, and along the way the reader is immersed in the coastal landscape.

What’s Next?

It is only July 4th, but I have read one novel this month and am almost done with another, but you will have to read my post next week to learn the titles. (See what I did there?)

I don’t know if I will select another Wild Card shelf at the library. Maybe I will do some random browsing, but at this point I think I will focus on what’s on my own shelf. My husband and I recently visited a bookstore new to us, only a year old, Big Hill Books in the Bryn Mawr neighborhood of Minneapolis, and we came home with a nice pile. Stay tuned to learn more. https://www.bighillbooks.com

Also, I have accepted a writing assignment from the publication BookWomen to write an article about spirituality books written by and for young women of diverse traditions. That means I will be researching and reading books that aren’t even known to me yet. I have a list of possibilities for books with a progressive Christian perspective, but I welcome your suggestions for books in the Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, Indigenous etc. traditions.

As always, happy reading!

An Invitation

Did your reading this past month include a Wild Card? I would love to know.


Life in the Elder Hallway

/ nagneberg48 / 6 Comments

July 2, 2024

Come join me in “Paris.” On gorgeous summer days this is where you might find me–writing letters and emails, dipping into my basket of miscellaneous meditation books and saved articles, jotting notes to myself, adding to my To DO and TBR lists, and often taking a deep cleansing breath, as I open my journal for more reflection time.

These are rich, but quiet days. Days I need right now.

I am reading for the second time How To Walk into a Room, The Art of Knowing When to Stay and When to Walk Away by Emily P. Freeman. Freeman uses the metaphor of a “room,” to reflect on decision-making and changes in our lives. Freeman emphasizes the importance of naming the room we inhabit now, and I am more and more aware that my current room is a room of elderhood, of old age.

This room is spacious with several corners and areas designated for different aspects of my life: my work as a spiritual director, as the facilitator of a writing group, as writer of this blog, along with my identities including wife, mother, grandmother, friend, sister, and active church member. The room has a number of doors often open to welcome others and windows, reminding me to pay attention to the diverse movement around me. There are places to sit for solitary reflection and for attentive conversations.

In my 60’s I often said I hoped my elder years would be a time of expansiveness–a time to grow bigger–and I needed a BIG room. Now, however, in my 70’s I have revised that thought. Instead, this is a time of deepening. And I think my room encourages that intention to deepen, to grow deeper into who I was created to be. That fits right now, but at some point, perhaps my room will be smaller, and I won’t need as many designated areas. My room will modify into a room of contentment. Not passiveness, but a contemplative contentment.

My father seemed to live in that room in his last years–his 80’s into his 90’s. He spent much of his day in prayer and meditation without realizing that he was living as a contemplative in his last room. That was not a word familiar to him, but when I offered it to him, I could see that it resonated, and he accepted, even welcomed it.

This summer, however, I think I am in a hallway. Wandering beyond my room, but not far from it. I am just a bit antsy, for I have had more open time than what has been normal for me. Most of the time that feels good, for it means I have more time to read and more time to respond to whims, and more awareness of how I want to use my energy and the pacing needed along the way.

Freeman describes hallways in this way:

A hallway is a place of permission. It's a space where you're allowed, compelled even, to ask your questions, perhaps the kinds of questions that your rooms haven't allowed. It's a space to try on possibilities and to reimagine what could be.

The hallway may be the space between two rooms,...but it could also be a pause, a space where you enter just for a time, to clear your head, to take a beat, to weigh your options, to remember who you are...it's a waiting room, a bridge, and a deep breath. pp. 94-95.

In this hallway I have encountered some words to ponder.

  • Job died, an old man and full of days. (Job 42:16) Margaret Silf in her Daily Readings says, “To die an old man is one thing; but to have lived a life in which every day was really lived, that is quite another. ” p.201
  • From a laugh-out loud novel I am currently reading, Sandwich by Catherine Newman: “(‘Dad and I defrosted the chest freezer’ is an actual text I once sent in response to a question about our weekend and how it was going.)” p. 45
  • Sara B. Franklin describes Judith Jones in her new book The Editor, How Publishing Legend Judith Jones Shaped Culture in America in this way, “she wore her age like a fact.” (quoted in the NYT Book Review by Alexandra Jacobs, Sunday, June 30, 2024)
  • “I’m making space for the unknown future to fill up my life with yet to come surprises.” Elizabeth Gilbert

Each of these quotations feels true to me, to whom I am now and the person I am becoming and the person I was created to be. The trick is finding the rhythm, the space in my room, for each of these truths. And that’s where the hallway comes in –or in my case “Paris.”

You are welcome to join me there.

An Invitation

How would you describe the room you are inhabiting now? I would love to know.

Notes for Democracy:

What will you do today to save democracy? I plan to write more “get out the vote” postcards. Check out my recent post, “A Postcard Primer” https://wordpress.com/post/livingonlifeslabyrinth.com/3619 for links to participate in postcard campaigns. And I highly recommend reading today’s newsletters by Robert Hubbell and Heather Cox Richardson about the Supreme Court’s attack on democracy. https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com https://roberthubbell.substack.com