August 2024

I love you! Happy August.

I’m humbled to recall that 50 years ago this month, I received an advance copy of my first book, published by Doubleday. Half a century ago, when I was 32, Style for Living: How to Make Where You Live You began my journey of discovery, growth, purpose, intellectual stimulation, fun and communion. Over five decades, some of us are continuing our dialogues together, as trusted friends. In my book Feeling at Home, I wrote about our 10 defining words. My dear husband Peter’s list included old friends. Just the word friends wasn’t enough for him.

While my book-publishing days are in the rearview mirror, I am enthusiastically looking forward to staying in touch with you in the coming days. Whatever opportunities present themselves to us in whatever serendipitous “coincidences,” I’m wide open to spontaneously experiencing the joyful connections. Bring it on. Let joy be unrestrained. This is our time to shine. Let there be light. We have far more energy when we are exposed to longer-lit days. The expanse of nature’s majestic, miraculous beauty expands our exuberant temperament. Our mood is uplifted by the infectiousness of this eternal, seasonal life force.

Even in the still, gray days of winter, beauty falls from the sky — snow. How is it possible that each single snowflake is distinct? Such a meticulous, intricate, delicate symmetrical shape is one, and only one, design out of the innumerable snowflakes that fall from the sky. How can we ever begin to contemplate or grasp the vastness of this miraculous earthly human life’s possibilities?

This time of year, nature’s exuberance can be highly contagious. All of us who feel the joy of the sun shining brightly upon our corner of the universe feel rapture at the smallest awareness of her spell on our human emotions. When we’re in our gardens, we’re often in awe of the new ripening and flowering. When we were children, we were fully alive with all our senses. One of the great joys of this time of year is the emotional response we all have to the simple pleasures of our seasonal, sensual abundance.

We savor our first bite of a freshly picked ear of corn. There’s no substitute for seasonal, fresh, farm-grown produce. To enhance our pleasure, we can watch a field of corn and sunflowers grow. As Samuel Johnson wrote, “The process is the reality.” I feel so fortunate to live in the country, where I’m able to go to farmers markets and enjoy the flavor and freshness regularly. Near me, Stone Acres Farm sells not only their fresh-picked vegetables and flowers, but they also have an ice cream trailer. Their ice cream comes from the iconic St. Clair shop in Watch Hill, Rhode Island, and to add to their farm-fresh touch, they add some of their fruit to the flavors.

Several other ice cream shops add seasonal fresh peach, strawberry and blueberry flavors. Buttonwood Farm in Griswold, Connecticut, is a famous farm that sells spectacular ice cream and also grows sunflowers. For a week, when the sunflowers are in full bloom, usually at the end of July, they also make a sunflower ice cream! For that week they give the proceeds from selling the sunflowers to the Make a Wish Foundation in Connecticut. Even though summer’s high season means we wait in line for our ice cream, seeing the rolling hills with cows grazing in the lush green grass is a peaceful, mindful meditation. One of my favorite parts of this yearly ritual is to watch the children scamper, skip and jump while their parents or an adult wait in line. Once their ice cream is in their hand, all their concentration is on the joy of their treat!

Whenever anyone cultivates their own garden, they are richly surrounded by what they’re able to co-create with nature’s gifts. All their dedication, devotion and joy are appreciated by countless others. A few days ago, when Elissa and I were meandering in my small front garden, two women who were guests of the Inn at Stonington down the street exuberantly complimented us on how spectacular the hot-pink geraniums looked in the window boxes. They were enchanted by my neighbor Charlie’s blue lace hydrangeas and how graceful they looked against the “Summer Sky” blue shutters. Deedee told us a close friend of hers, who was a master gardener, had recently died. The memorial remembrance was in her friend’s beautiful garden sanctuary. She felt that “gardens are for sharing.”

Just as a light mist morphed into big raindrops, Elissa explained she was taking pictures of some roses for my August newsletter. While the rain persisted, the four of us were able to briefly share a few heartfelt connections.

“Where do you live?” I inquired to Mary Ann.

“Newton, Massachusetts.”

“I was born there in 1941!” I said.

The white picket fence Charlie and I shared had been there for decades. It was too rotten to repair, let alone paint, and having it removed allowed our close houses to have more breathing room. Beyond that grace note, there was a silent sense of connection. Gardens communicate love through their beauty, scent, color and grace. The word paradise came from the Persian word for garden. A.O. Scott, a critic at large for The Times Book Review, reviewed Olivia Laing’s new book The Garden Against Time: In Search of a Common Paradise. The review was titled “A Bouquet of Ideas: Olivia Laing makes an impassioned case for a garden — as repository of natural beauty, as democratic ideal, as writerly inspiration.”

At the end of the review, Scott quotes Laing dreaming of a second Eden: “A humming, thrumming togetherness that transcends not only sexual desire but the human world itself. Call it a garden state: a cross-species ecology of astounding beauty and completeness, never static, always in motion, progressive and prolific. I want to live there, and the world won’t survive much longer if we don’t.”

Ever since my first awakening in my mother’s flower garden when I was 3, I’ve been keenly conscious of the profound effect the beauty and fragrance of flowers has on our soul. Why do we love to grow flowers? Children and artists draw and paint flowers. Photographers take pictures of their gardens. Why does the fragrance of flowers bring back memories and give so many of us such happiness? Perfume manufacturers understand how many flowers are required to produce one ounce of perfume. The fragrance Joy by Jean Patou, for example, contains the essence of 10,000 jasmine flowers and 28 dozen Bulgarian roses! I learned this statistic while reading a footnote from chapter nine in Exuberance: The Passion for Life by Kay Redfield Jamison. In footnote 246, from the chapter “We Should Grow Too Fond of It,” Jamison writes that what “is most deeply felt is what is most powerfully expressed to others.” She quotes Thoreau: “We cannot write well or truly but what we write with gusto.” The author of Walden wrote about the contrast between writer and spring: “Walden was dead and is alive again.”

August. We have this entire 31-day month to celebrate endless summer days and long, leisurely evenings. This is IT! Now, this glorious month, we have life’s full measure of beauty in front of our eyes and at our fingertips. In gracious profusion, everywhere we look, gardens are lavish and lush. Cherries, watermelon, blueberries and peaches are sweet and juicy, creating delicious nectar.

By appreciating all we have available to nourish our bodies and souls, we’re acutely aware how extraordinary it is to have our five senses with us at all times. When we’re living our best life, we’re able to maintain positive energy that supports inner peace and compassion. “But for the grace of God,” we are truly blessed to be alive. We’re humbled to know firsthand just how precious and fragile life is for all of humanity.

In mindful moments, we enter an inner space of serenity and know all is well. Everything becomes clear. We feel whole and complete just as things are. We have our life. “Today is the right day to Love, Believe, Do and mostly Live,” understands His Holiness the Dalai Lama. No matter what is happening all around us or whatever circumstances are out of our control, we accept life as it is, right now. Today. We are the masters of our souls. We are free to choose to make the best of today. As the spiritual leader Eric Butterworth taught worshippers, “Do your best and leave the rest.” Today.

Herman Hesse, the German-born Swiss writer, wrote that “within you, there is a stillness and sanctuary to which you can retreat at anytime and be yourself.”

Throughout our lives, we’ve built an inner dwelling place where we are truly safe and at peace. This private sanctuary is our retreat no matter where we are physically. During quiet times of contemplation and meditation, we bring our thoughts to a higher, broader perspective.

We possess a wealth of inner resources that we’ve accumulated over all the years since our birth. No one can take these inner resources away from us. Our entire life’s story is miraculously housed in the safe recesses of the interconnectedness of our heart, mind and soul.

Each and every encounter we’ve ever experienced has shaped and molded the course of our lives. Our curiosity and imagination are gifts of grace. We are truly blessed when we are philosophical about learning from all our happiest moments as well as our disappointments. Our life’s whole story up until today is complex, colorful, mysterious and full of indelible memories. By embracing each new opportunity when it presents itself, patterns form; our authentic temperament is cultivated. By our exposure to diverse opinions and cultures, we learn from our vast global family and discover their traditions, rituals, beliefs and celebrations.

More than ever, I’m now aware how one thing inevitably leads to another. We’re not always aware of the reasons our life takes “the road less traveled,” but every deliberate act of self-expression leads us closer and closer to our essence, our core nature. Each of us is here on earth to develop and fine-tune our innate gifts in order to play our part in making the world a better place.

John Bowen Coburn was my self-selected spiritual adviser who taught me a most valuable lesson when I was in my 40s. John was my minister at St. James Church in New York City and married Peter and me 50 years ago. John taught me that we can’t do all the things we’d like to do without becoming “hollow inside.” This inner sanctuary requires our regular practice of mindfulness: visualize the most peaceful seascape, or a rose garden with sunshine and fresh breezes coming from the ocean.

I always come back to my former boss and mentor “Mrs. Brown” — Eleanor McMillen Brown — who understood that “living takes time.” Because she believed in living well, with dignity and grace, she made deliberate efforts to keep fit and maintain the discipline of keeping work and leisure in a healthy balance.

Those of us who have the privilege of longevity have more undistracted quiet times to muse about life’s passage. Our private life review can increase our joy in the moment. We have such a wide-angle lens of all the people who have touched our lives and visited as tourists. All these memories remind us of our authentic self.

I’m acutely aware of just how many caring, kind, generous, thoughtful people have shaped me. They’re in my soul, my cells, in my DNA and in the very blood coursing through my body. Remember these supportive souls in your quiet times. Love never dies. Their spirit lives on in you and will continue to live in future generations. They are the chosen inhabitants of our inner sanctuary.

Because they were decent, trustworthy, good human beings, I was more receptive to look up to them with respect and learn from their teachings. I’m particularly grateful to the wise ancient Greek and Roman thinkers who awakened in me a hunger and thirst for knowledge. Because I've strived to live up to their ethics, collectively they’ve influenced the direction of my life.

Each day we’re alive is a bonus. These long summer days of relaxation, celebration and fun are scrumptious, delicious and wondrous. While I’m savoring being able to fully embrace all the cultural opportunities nearby, enjoying live theater and music, I’m equally glad to read and write in the calm, pretty atmosphere of my private cottage haven. Solitude is an essential ingredient in my quest to become a kinder, gentler, more compassionate and understanding woman. I want to remain useful in whatever ways I can. Whenever I enter this secluded place where I can work, I’m in the presence of all the souls who have loved and nurtured me. We are always being guided by others with whom we have made a spirit-connection.

One of my greatest delights in July was spending vacation time with my four grandchildren. There is something so meaningful about knowing and loving someone all their lives. The continuity of being their mothers’ mother gave me access to their lives in an intimate, tender, loving way. Because I’m part of their family, I have always had a front-row seat to observe their various activities and applaud their accomplishments. Having gone to Washington for my twin grandchildren’s sonograms 23 years ago, being at their various school performances, their basketball games and crew races, I’ve learned about their effort to excel, to be part of a winning team.

The time, energy and devotion that go into being a good, loving parent today make parenting exponentially more difficult and frightening than when I raised my daughters in New York City. There is no comparison between my grandchildren’s childhood, their parents’ and mine. As a child, I went to public school on a bus. In my free time, I rode my bike to play with friends in the neighborhood. By today’s standards, I was totally neglected. If I was up to no good, no one would know. Telephones hung on a wall in the kitchen. Miraculously, everything worked out all right. I survived and have wonderfully happy memories of my tomboy years of freedom and abandon.

It is most exciting for me to see these young adults flourishing. I was afraid of my parents; these four revere theirs. It’s refreshing how open they are, and how easily we can discuss any and every subject without fear of judgment. My traditional (pre-internet) rituals, my love of so many obsolete objects and my deliberate choices to avoid the digital ways are often cause for giggles. Two different worlds of communicating come together because of loving-kindness, respect and understanding. We’re each free to express ourselves in our own way.

I don’t believe absence makes the heart grow fonder, but when we’re fortunate, the precious times when we’re with our young family (who are all fully engaged in their own lives) are electric with loving energy. They are on fire and light up my love of life. Their being able to openly share their excitements, concerns and interests with me invigorates my own spirit-energy. I’m well aware that their presence in my life is one of the reasons I keep catching the golden ring. What a great gift: love shared openly with the future generations.

Enjoy this month’s opportunities to dream and muse about your good fortune. I’m grateful to have you as friends: many of you “old friends”! Onward and upward. We’re walking in the right direction when we walk in love.

Love & Live Happy,