Oceans, Music, Dogs, and Painting

By Kathy Palokoff

I’m sitting on the deck of the ocean liner trying to discretely dry some clothes in the sea air on the way to St. Thomas. It’s a rather clumsy operation since I’m multi-tasking, writing as I balance my laptop on my knees while trying to keep my balance amidst the wind and swaying boat. But drying a couple pairs of pants is a priority since I’ve come up short on clean clothes and am too cheap to pay the $4.50 per pants laundering fee. Am I actually whining on this dream cruise? Talk about entitlement, for pete’s sake.

I don’t think I’ve ever written the expression “for pete’s sake” in an essay before. Who was Pete anyway? Where did the phrase originate? Should it be capitalized? Unfortunately, I’m also too cheap to get Wi-Fi for $40 per day so I can’t instantly answer my questions with ChatGPT, an app that has recently become my drug of choice in my constant search for information. I feel like I’m in withdrawal. No ChatGPT. No Google. No news feeds.

My decision not to purchase Wi-Fi isn’t just about money. It’s also an attempt to find some life balance by turning off the constant flow of data and opinions that flood my brain daily. You see, I’m a very curious person, constantly searching for new information and insights.

Let’s think about curiosity in the context of health. As they say, curiosity killed the cat. Will curiosity kill the Kathy? I don’t think so. I absolutely believe that curiosity has kept me young. My mind never stops coming up with ideas, and even into my 70’s, I seek out new adventures and ventures -- like starting an AI applications company to help people with work and life.

I surround myself with people young and old who have the same curiosity obsession. One woman I admire is fellow Great Dame Jerrie Uberle whom I believe is close to 85. Jerrie travels the world, starting schools called the World Academy for the Future of Women. Young women in China, Nepal, Pakistan, and other countries are thriving because of her efforts. Jerrie never stops. In fact, I think she may be traveling in Africa right now to start a new academy. Jerrie’s brand of curiosity is intensely focused; it has allowed her to achieve the impossible.

My teachers, Don Miguel Ruiz and his sons Miguel Jr. and Jose, also have my profound respect. You may be familiar with the book, The Four Agreements, where Don Miguel Ruiz brought Toltec philosophy to millions of people and profoundly changed their lives. I am one of them. When you are with Don Miguel, you are with Don Miguel. You feel wrapped in his presence as if there are only two people on the planet. I contrast that with a powerful woman CEO I met during an awards ceremony. Her eyes were always flitting around to the next person she was going to talk with. My moment with her was totally forgettable -- for both her and me. But one of the greatest men of our generation has never been distracted from our conversations for a millisecond. And he is like that with everyone.

Don Miguel has passed on this quiet, focused intensity to his sons. I remember being in an infinity pool with Don Miguel Jr. after he had given a lecture at a retreat. I wanted to share an insight with him. The Mexican sun was beating down on me, and I started the conversation with, “I’m burning up. I need to put some suntan lotion on.” Then I proceeded to talk for several minutes. Miguel interrupted me and asked if I was forgetting something. I thought he meant something he had said in his lecture. Nope. Instead, he was teaching me another lesson. “Kathy, you said you were burning up from the sun. Why aren’t you taking care of yourself? Are you distracted?”

You might be thinking that I’m digressing from the topic of curiosity and health by talking about Jerrie and the Ruiz family. You might actually claim I am acting distracted. Digression and distraction are attributes of curious people; we seem to go off topic although I would argue – not really.

You see, my experience with these amazing people is tied to health, which I thought might be a great topic for DamesTalk. Jerrie is spry and healthy. Neither her body nor brain reflect how we view people her age. Don Miguel had a heart attack that damaged most of his heart, but then he climbed one of the pyramids in Mexico one step at a time and came back to live a full life after a heart transplant. Even though I’m healthy (but not so spry), Jerrie and Don Miguel have a characteristic that I often lack – the ability to focus on what’s right in front of me. Unfortunately, while curiosity keeps my soul young, my variety of curiosity can prevent me from really being here. My mind is always buzzing. I’m restless. I feel slightly discontent.

And it is all connects to my inability to relax. Ever. My husband, Dom, called me on when I was offering – once again -- some solid advice about how we can improve our time spent on the cruise. “Can you just relax?” he asks in a somewhat peeved voice. My attempt to make it better is ratcheting up his anxiety and irritating the heck out of him. Honestly, Dom could have asked me to turn my skin color to purple. That’s how unrealistic his comment was to me. In fact, I find it sort of offensive. Relax? Right. What the heck does he think I am doing on this cruise?

But he did gets me thinking. Could he actually be making an important point? I start to think about how my behavior affects others. Am I as annoying as my generally tolerant husband is finding me? Is my difficulty relaxing actually detrimental to my health? Why can’t I relax like all the other cruisers seem to be doing? Of course, they are imbibing a fair share of alcohol, but still...

I think my relaxation dilemma stems back to childhood. Nobody sat down in my home, except my father who worked a very taxing physical job. Even then, my mother would say in a critical voice: “Your dad’s lying on the couch again” as she attempted to get him to go out with her to “do something.” She never succeeded. Even into her 80’s, my mother could not sit down to watch television without knitting hats for newborns, folding clothes, or sorting through papers.

Her three daughters were taught early on to always be doing something. Not being busy was being selfish, and being selfish was a cardinal sin. I didn’t realize I had brought these views into motherhood. Recently, my sons informed me that whenever I was cleaning the house, they had to be helping. If I was tidying my bedroom, they needed to be engaged in the same task for their bedrooms. Not only did I equate not being busy as a sin, but I was intent on instilling that value in them. Relax? You could do that when you were dead. Fortunately, they seem to have broken this generational cycle with my grandkids.

Another thing -- having fun was never a goal when I was growing up. Contributing. Working. Bettering yourself and your family. That’s why you were here on earth. By the way, that didn’t mean we didn’t have fun. It’s just that the fun was a by-product of other things. To deliberately take time out to relax and have fun? Well, that came with a good dose of guilt.

Knowing the “why” is great, but it’s the “what now” that I am thinking about as I check my clothes again. Still wet. More time to contemplate if it’s possible for me to become a relaxed person, or at least to find moments of where I shut down the noise in my head and focus on the moment.

They say meditation is really good for clearing out the brain. It relaxes your body and puts your mind in the moment. (I think there are chemicals involved but I can’t check because no internet, right?)

Actually, I tried meditation before. Everybody I knew in college was enamored with this cool thing called transcendental meditation, also known as TM. Heck, who didn’t want to transcend back then, and peyote was too hard to find. The TM teacher gave me my own completely unique mantra and told me not to share it with anyone. I felt very special.

My mantra is “Aye Yim.” Oh, if you are worried that I just let you in on the secret, don’t be. A few years after taking up meditation, I found my mantra in a Kurt Vonnegut book. I was quite disillusioned, to say the least. But the mantra betrayal was not the real reason I quit meditating. I simply found it really boring. It made me antsy, and my mind constantly wandered. I felt like a Meditation Failure, and, honestly, life offers enough opportunity for failure without adding that to the list. So, maybe I don’t need to go full Zen. Maybe I just need to think of other ways to be in the moment.

As I gaze out on the ocean, I work at solving that challenge. I try not to think about how long it will take my pants to dry, the warming of the ocean, what really happened to the Titanic, whether or not there are other planets with salt water, where our next port of call is, why people hate sharks so much, and what it must have been like for my grandparents to cross the ocean from Europe. Dozens of thoughts are flitting through my brain. Turning off my brain is hard, hard work.

Yet slowly, as I watch the waves gently crest and the blues shift into greys and greens, I’m soothed by the gentle rocking. My mind slows, and my lips turn up in a smile. Oh, this really does feel good! I want more! How can I capture this feeling when I get off the boat since cruising for the rest of my life is just a tad beyond my budget?

Then the lightbulb goes off. I realize I have three things that actually feel very similar to watching the ocean. Music. Dogs. Painting.

The cruise I am on is the Legendary Blues Cruise. As I go from venue to venue, one thing strikes me -- many of the musicians are my age and older. They are still at the top of their game. Their fingers fly across the keyboards and strings. Their intellectual powers are equally impressive.

Taj Mahal is 84 and even though he has trouble walking, his mental and emotional health is remarkable. During an interview on the cruise in honor of him receiving a Lifetime Achievement Award from the Grammys, he gives extensive details and names of people from throughout his 60-year career. It is absolutely startling. I can’t remember what I ate for breakfast.

Emotionally, the Blues touches my soul in deep ways. Music – particularly live performance – takes me away through lyrics and rhythm to a place of joy and peace. I am in the moment. I am not distracted. Nothing comes between me and the sound. And it’s not just this genre of music that does this to me; I lose myself in all music. Well, maybe not heavy metal, but I am going to see Metallica with Dom in a few months. That might be the test.

When I listen to musicians, I am completely transported. A guitar riff takes over my brain. My feet move as the drummer sets the beat. The jam sessions are conversations in a language I don’t understand, but its cadence can invigorate or relax me. Because I am simply a listener, I don’t think or analyze. I just am. The lyrics to classic Chicago blues songs take me away from the current state of the world and put me in a moment where I only hear the pathos and sorrow of lost love, cheating husbands, and beloved dogs who have crossed over the Rainbow Bridge.

Dogs do the same thing for me. I have had a dog by my side since I was eighteen. Gurgi. Moonshine, Ahavti. Sarah. Sandy. Jambo. Kaia. Inga, Tori. Those are the ones who live now only in memory. All breeds and mostly rescues, they required that I be there for them. They need to be cared for with walks, water, food, and love, and they give back totally in return.

Kaia, my sweet golden retriever, was a master of being in the moment and keeping me there. She would chase a ball as if her life depended on it. She would greet me at the door as if her life depended on it. She would gobble her food as if her life depended on it. She was always there, and I was right there with her. Damn, I miss that pup.

When I get off the boat and go home, my yellow lab Remy, will keep me in the moment with his crazy antics. When he sleeps on the couch with all four legs pointing to the ceiling and the cat sitting on his head, I always take a moment to stop and laugh. He knows how to focus intensely on the dog biscuits in the cabinet; his pleading eyes make me move away from my work and take a moment with the Remy dog.

The third way I slow down my curious brain and relax is painting. I love looking at art but never considered myself an artist. (A quick diversion – the word “Toltec” translates into “artist.” We are all the artists of our lives.) Writing is and has always been my passion, but I do not find it relaxing. I am constantly in my head, analyzing, composing, and editing. I am in self-critical mode, looking for ways to make my prose better. I am aware of deadlines and time.

The first time I ever painted with watercolors, I was shocked to find out that an hour had gone by. I had no clue since I was transfixed by the colors, brush strokes, and what my teacher called “happy mistakes.” I didn’t know what I was doing and did not care. Instead, I was enthralled by the many shades of green, the texture of the flowers, and the shadows surrounding the trees. I had heard artists – and musicians – talk about being in the zone. But it was a totally new concept and feeling for me. I get totally lost in the moment, feeling only the colors and shapes emerge as I watch the rivets of water flow down the paper.

My clothes are now dry, and my essay is written. I think I will go down to the cabin and grab my paints and see what’s on the music schedule. Too bad my pup is back home, or I would have a win-win-win in my relaxation quest. Hmmm, I am curious if there are cruises where you can bring your dog. Oh, right, no internet. Phew, I escaped that rabbit hole.

Before I get up, a group of young musicians sit down next to me. They are passing around a guitar and a joint. Then they all start spontaneously singing a beautiful version of a Bob Marley song with lovely harmony on the chorus: “I don’t want to wait in vain for your love.”

I guess I don’t have to wait in vain to be in the moment. I don’t have to wait for fun. I don’t have to wait to relax. As I listen to the song, I realize it has come to me on this sunny morning on the Caribbean Sea. Unbidden and unplanned.

Kathy Palokoff is the founder and chief igniter of goFirestarter, a company that helps changemakers become authors through strategic branding and book and content development. She is also a co-founder of Toolsie, which provides applications that make business and life easier through AI-powered tools.