NW LIFESTYLE WRITER? WHAT’S A NW LIFESTYLE WRITER?

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So glad you asked about a NW lifestyle writer, but what is it? What’s it mean to be a NW lifestyle writer?

I suppose you could rent a room and look out the window and describe rain as a NW lifestyle writer, but that ain’t living.

Like Red said in Shawshank Redemption, “You gotta get busy living, or get busy dying.” Looking out a window worked for Emily Dickinson, why not you?

This is why:

I heard a Fly buzz – when I died –  
The Stillness in the Room
Was like the Stillness in the Air –  
Between the Heaves of Storm – 

The Eyes around – had wrung them dry –  
And Breaths were gathering firm
For that last Onset – when the King
Be witnessed – in the Room –  

I willed my Keepsakes – Signed away
What portions of me be
Assignable – and then it was
There interposed a Fly –  

With Blue – uncertain stumbling Buzz –  
Between the light – and me –  
And then the Windows failed – and then
I could not see to see – 

Living out west means get outside, not hanging in the attic waiting to die so you can talk about a fly. It’s a nice poem from poets.org, but if that’s you, pick a room with a view.

Lifestyle means having a life, with style. Know where you come from, but don’t dwell on it or you’ll get morose for days gone by. No one needs another sad baby boomer, or millennial.

Look, who doesn’t have regrets at a certain age. This NW lifestyle writer says make better regrets. Sit by your window long enough and those regrets may turn back onto themselves in a never ending cycle. Then what?

You could write a nice poem. Or you could gear up and get outside like the Bird Whisperer.

Mastering the art of calm and silence is easy sitting by the window; at least it looks easy. It seems like it ought to be easy, but of course it’s not. Who shuts off their brain knowing they should be doing something else, anything else.

Instead, take that serenity downtown. Find out if it stands up in the bus mall, on Waterfront Park. Stay calm in the request from panhandlers, Nordstom salespeople, and other strangers.

I’m a big fan of feelings and sensitivity. Not so much for selfishness and disregard. If Emily stayed in the attic by the window because the world chased her to end of the line, what’s your excuse?

Start with a poem, something short and poignant, maybe with a guitar back up, like this:

Spending Portland days in a forest fire haze,
with an orange sun covered in smoke.
I can’t breath with any ease
that makes asthma feel like a joke.

Waiting for the light to fall just right,
through my window to waiting eyes.
Another day goes in the book,
when the orange sun fades and dies.

Just another day, or THAT day, the one you’ve been waiting for, planning for, ready for.

It’s been waiting for you, too.

And that, my friends, is what a NW lifestyle writer is all about. Like Tom Petty said, the waiting is the hardest part.

So what are you waiting for? Get started by leaving a comment.