An Abecedarium, technically, is a primer used to learn the alphabet.  In literary circles, the term is also used to apply to a piece of writing that in some way follows the alphabet.  I was introduced to this device with an essay published in The American Scholar back in 2009.  (Those interested can read it here.  The essay is beautifully written and you’ll learn a lot about how the brain works. It’s a bit long, but worth it.)  The author wrote the piece in 26 sections, each section starting with a word that began with the next letter in line in the alphabet.  The OCD part of me loved the structure and orderliness of following the alphabet—A through Z, no skips.  The writer in me was blown away by the elegant way she built the essay, one section flowing seamlessly into the next.  I vowed then and there that, someday, I would write my own Abecedarium.

“Someday” is today.  This essay marks the approximate fourth anniversary of my blog.  Over this next year, I will treat you to my own Abecedarium by writing 26 essays, each titled by a word that begins with the next letter of the alphabet.  Since a year has 52 weeks, if I can stay true to my biweekly posting schedule, my Abecedarium will conclude as I reach my fifth “blogiversary” and I can write some splendid piece about both accomplishments.  

I would love to tell you that I sat down and lovingly mapped out this journey so that the body of work it represents would flow together as beautifully as that essay in The Scholar.  That did not happen.  I was just happy to come up with the idea!  And, besides—I write based on what’s going on in my life at the moment, tying those events to some theme of thought.  That’s hard enough.  I’m as interested to see how this plays out as you are!  I’m guessing in some cases, one word can drive a whole essay.  In others, I may need to use a few in sections, each beginning with a different word starting with the letter of the day.  Hopefully those sections will tie together well.  And in a few, I’m sure the link between the chosen word/title and the content will be a stretch.  But, hey, let’s just see where this goes.

Since that’s enough discussion on Abecedariums (Abecedaria?), let’s move on to some other thoughts that begin with the letter A.  I’m going to start with Achievement.  While I was in spin class today, I got to thinking about New Year’s Resolutions.  As a general rule, I’m not really into them.  It’s not that I don’t like making commitments.  It’s that once I think of one and am ready to commit, I don’t wait for a starting pistol like New Year’s Day.  I just start.  Trish and I are both very achievement driven.  We like to get things done.  This desire, for me, is often in marked contrast to my willingness to procrastinate—itself usually inspired by my perfectionist paralysis.  I like to think that these counterweights make achievement that much sweeter.  It was an achievement for me to get back to spin class this week, not because I made a New Year’s resolution to exercise more but because I had gotten off my schedule over the holidays.  It simply felt good to sweat and that was an achievement.

Getting through each stage of our home renovation, without a divorce, is another key achievement.  As an aside, let me just say how much this experience has deepened my empathy for refugees of all types.  Here we are, living in a gorgeous home vacated for the winter by Trish’s sister and her husband, just around the corner from our own house, and all we want to do is go home!  We were over at the house last night to see the new flooring installed downstairs.  The new kitchen cabinets are in the garage, waiting to go next.  We’ve been out of our home for about 10 weeks now and things are coming together fast.  What did we do in our excitement?  We went down into the basement and sat among the pile of our belongings stashed there.  We missed them.  We want to go home.  I can only imagine what it must feel like to be displaced from your home, from everything you know and love, and find yourself in another country, trying to get by until you can return.  Or what it must mean to leave all that behind permanently and create a new life.  Being away from home makes us cranky and very snippy with each other.  And we are in a fairly cushy situation.

The challenge of achievement is something we all face throughout our lives.  In fact, NOT facing it is a key reason that people sink into depression and lose the desire to keep on living.  While retirement has lessened the stressful need to deliver day after day at work, it has not meant a lack of goals.  I’m grateful for that, as well as for the fact that both Trish and I are oriented that way.  It would be really difficult if my partner preferred to do nothing while I wanted to keep going.  Fortunately, we seem to need about the same amount of Activity at approximately the same time.  And we mostly enjoy the same activities.

Rereading that Scholar article reminded me about the plasticity of the brain and the importance of challenging your grey matter regularly.  This renovation has brought back up organizational and prioritization skills; creativity around design; and, surprisingly, negotiation skills.  It’s also fired me up again around doing new things.  Trish and I are planning more trips, more outings, time with friends, seeing new places.  We started Pickleball lessons at the Y last week, which is a blast.  We only have one injury each so far!  I’m finding myself practicing my Spanish again, thinking about finally unpacking that Rosetta Stone lifetime kit I bought a few years ago (Mandarin, anyone?), and reconsidering my longtime threat to REALLY learn to play the guitar (at least, Trish takes it as a threat).  Feels good to feel inspired again.  We just need to get through this renovation and back home.  We just need to Breathe.