What a terrific resource water is. We rely on water for everything we do. If you don’t think that’s the case, I challenge you to think of one aspect of your life that doesn’t rely on water. Cue the Jeopardy jingle while we all wait…
EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE RELIES ON WATER!
I live in one of the Pacific Northwest states of the United States, and it is currently our summer season – the hottest time of year. While watering my plants last month, I was struck with gratitude as I watched the water soaking into the ground on its way to nourishing the flowers I love to see this time of year. That gratitude was truly front and center in my mind because it just so happened that my street block was on the verge of having its water shut off for an entire day because of a required water main repair down the road. All of us neighbors made arrangements to store water for that period of time and discerned what each household needed to make it through that day. Let me tell you, laundry was hastily completed, dishwashers were run, and household members scrambled to claim the toilet they would use because flushing of toilets would not be possible for at least six hours.
Stressful…right?
No industry exists without the availability of water. Again, wrack your brain to think of what on earth isn’t affected by water. Forget the Jeopardy jingle, that’s a waste of music because the answer is still:
EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE RELIES ON WATER!
But this post isn’t just focused on appreciating and conserving water; it’s also about increasing our ongoing efforts to cherish that with which we have been gifted: our living space and everything within that space on which we rely, our loved ones, or aspects of our health – even when we don’t enjoy a 100% healthy existence. May you and I continually cherish all that matters to us, including every breath we take, because even the latter does not come with an endless supply.
MAY YOU SURVIVE AND THRIVE WITH A HEIGHTENED SENSE OF GRATITUDE
I’m the person who waves, but I’m also the person who waves back. I just can’t help myself, especially when a young child is concerned.
Ever since I became a grandmother back in 2017, I can’t resist waving and talking to a youngster while said youngster is accompanied by their parental unit. Caveat: Prior to attaining grandparenthood, I just couldn’t be bothered, but I am a reformed woman.
But it’s not just the youngsters with whom I engage; I can’t help but engage all age groups in friendly conversation. I crave the connection and I am shameless in my efforts to satisfy that craving.
Maybe you’re among the many who hope beyond all hope that when you encounter the stranger that is me, no conversational effort will be required on your part. Sorry to disappoint you, but if you’re in my sights, I’m reaching out to become your 30-second friend.
Dr. Bernie S. Siegel provides some wisdom for our day from his 365 Prescriptions for the Soul book. The following is provided verbatim:
Parade of Life
Forget past mistakes. Forget failures. Forget everything except what you are going to do now, and do it. – William Durant
Life is a parade. Sometimes we march along and realize we have passed by what we were looking for. What do we do? Stand there and drop out of the parade? March on with regrets? Feel bad about how we looked or that everything we wanted was on the wrong side of the street? It’s passed! Forget it and march on!
Sometimes our parade isn’t so pretty, and the crowd isn’t interested in us. If we drag everything we have passed with us, we will destroy the present. We have no future when we live in the past.
We even talk about past lives. Whether you believe in them or not, the same principle applies. If you are living a past life, you are destroying your present one. In therapy, people come to understand why they are acting the way they are and how the past is affecting them. They learn to let go, move on, and not sit in the same classroom year after year. They graduate and commence a new life.
To conclude, I, Irene Frances Olson, have this to say about Dr. Siegel’s comments:
The good news is that we can learn from our past, both the good and the bad, but if we stay cemented in the past and don’t move on? That parade Dr. Siegel talks about? It’ll pass us by.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to get left behind.
Are you preparing right now to never lose your boogie, no matter your age? I am. The above linked article is a delightful story of how music affects the elderly, whether cognitively impaired or not.
The Alive Inside program proved how beneficial music therapy is to those whose world has diminished and whose communication and connection with others has been cut off. Regardless of the music’s era, regardless of the generation listening to it, everyone can harken back to long-ago memories just by listening to familiar tunes that meant something to us then, and that mean something to us now.
Retaining one’s essence and one’s individuality goes far towards announcing to the world, “I’m still here; I’ve still got it; I’m still vital.” As expressed in the article I’ve shared from a fellow blogger, I hope I will indeed be the smiling lady that gets up and dances, and I hope you’ll join me on the dance floor!
Our weekly grocery store has made it through thick and thin, which of course includes the pandemic that closed down so many businesses and saw employees leaving their place of employment in droves, so much so, that retail operations are now struggling to staff their stores appropriately. Many long-time employees stay committed to their work, wanting the salary, of course, but also wanting the retail operation to survive.
The other day, in response to my comment about the cute smiley face health mask our grocery checker was wearing, this long-time employee told us that a “secret shopper” was brought into the store to monitor its employees and this shopper told management that “Jane” didn’t smile when he went through her checkout stand. Jane shows up for all her shifts, does a stellar job, and the lack of a smile becomes punishable?
As difficult as it is to fill retail shifts, I would think the lack of a smile at any given time, whether momentary or ongoing, isn’t an offense worth reporting to management. I think it was unfortunate that this employee was reprimanded. We are in your corner, Jane. May peace and prosperity be your portion.
How often have you felt defeated because your day-to-day existence is somewhat routine and boring?
The life of a family caregiver, attending to a loved one with a disease or malady that is all-encompassing, is never Same-O Same-O. Any semblance of status quo flies out the window shortly after taking on this learn-as-you-go caregiver role. The boring life about which the family caregiver used to complain no longer exists as she or he memorializes that long-abandoned way of living. My memorial to status quo existed while attending to my father during his Alzheimer’s journey. That is why I wrote this novel, based on facts from my time caring for my father.
I am 72 years old. Up until my 60s, I looked forward to every birthday, but when I was about to turn seventy, all bets were off. The good news is, I now know why.
My mother died at the age of 77, which, come on now, isn’t old. My mother’s cause of death doesn’t at all reflect my health status. Mom had three health conditions that adversely affected her quality of life for many, many years. I don’t have any of those conditions, but when I turned 70, I saw my life as one that was hanging in the balance.
Over the past couple of years, I have reconciled to the fact that I do not fear that I will die as Mom did. Nope! But I still don’t like being in this particular decade of my life. Perhaps I will get over it, and, quite frankly, I hope I do, because feeling averse to this decade is counterintuitive to living in the moment, which is what I truly endeavor to do. If you read last week’s post, you know that I’m trying to do better at living and accepting my age. But it’s not always an easy task, is it? But “easy” isn’t what I’m demanding out of life either; rather, I simply want to refine my ongoing attempt to accept what is.
And there you have it, unapologetically me in a nutshell.
In light of the way life has unfolded in the world as of recently, I have endeavored to discover a way of surviving the day-to-day tedium, and it appears I have done so for myself. It is not a religion, with its set orthodoxies and rules; rather, it is a way of living that is extremely pliable:
Stoicism
I now provide for you the principles found in this philosophy that – quite frankly – seem worthy of our attention. This list comes directly from the book, Reasons Not to Worry – How to Be Stoic in Chaotic Times, by Brigid Delaney.
Acknowledge that you can’t control much of what goes on in your life.
See that your emotions are the product of how you think about the world.
Accept that bad things are bound to happen to you from time to time, just as they do to everyone else.
See yourself as part of a larger whole, not an isolated individual; part of the human race, part of nature.
Think of everything you have as not your own, but simply on loan, that one day will be taken back.
And that is all I have to say to you this week because it is not I who says it, but the Stoics themselves.
Do you feel as though you don’t visit your loved one often enough at the long-term care (LTC) facility in which they live? Try to acknowledge that guilt is a feeling that may not necessarily reflect an accurate reality of how attentive you are towards your loved one.
The local caregiver.
In my past Alzheimer’s Association work, many caregivers expressed their concerns that they were not doing enough for their loved one who lived in a LTC facility. Even when a caregiver visited Mom several days a week, the caregiver still felt guilty for not making more of an effort to be there for her.
Guilt is a valid feeling, but the feeling of guilt may not accurately reflect what is going on. Let’s face it, most of us are hard on ourselves. The old adage, “we’re our own worse critic” came about resultant from generations of people who unfairly beat themselves into the ground.
At a gathering I attended several years ago, a woman expressed how guilty she felt for not visiting her mother more often than she thought appropriate. Another person, also a caregiver, suggested that this person ask herself whether or not she felt she was doing the best she could in this situation. “If you are, then perhaps your feeling of guilt is based on emotion rather than reality.” Whether five visits a week or one visit a month – if that’s the best a person is able to do, then it’s sufficient.
Caregivers simply need to cut themselves some slack. Even when the loved one they’re visiting has no concept of the passage of time and is not able to discern whether they’ve been visited as recently as the last hour or as long ago as last year, caregivers still berate themselves for not being there more frequently.
Caveat: I need to add that even if your loved one doesn’t a) recognize you, and b) can’t quantify the passage of time, you are still a wonderful addition to that person’s life. No staff caregiver can take your place when it comes to providing a loving presence for your Mom who lives in a facility. Just being there with a smile, a hug, and speaking words of compassion can do wonders towards brightening Mom’s day.
The long-distance caregiver.
One of many walks my father and I took around his facility
My biggest role as a caregiver was that which I performed long distance for my father who lived in a dementia unit in a Southern Oregon assisted living facility. I felt like I was doing something truly valuable for him while I was there but as soon as I boarded the plane for Seattle the guilt enveloped me. Usually, the first night of my return was spent crying because I felt I had been impatient with him, or I acted flustered when I had to answer a question that my father had already asked me no less than two dozen times prior. I relived every moment of my visit, criticizing this and that about what I did, or didn’t do. I was a wreck. I had to talk myself into believing that dad did have a good time and dad was genuinely happy to see me, and by golly, I didn’t do that bad of a job as a caregiver daughter.
I could then relax knowing that he was being well-cared for in my absence; my visits augmented that care, and I could rest on that fact rather than falling back on my guilt. The NY Times article, Being There and Far Away sheds some light on the long distance caregiver’s experience. I hope you’ll take the time to read the article as I believe it will touch on some topics that all caregivers may experience.
As I mentioned in my Blog entry, Deathbed Promises and How to Fulfill Themtake a deep breath and shed the mantle of guilt you’re wearing. It doesn’t do you any good and it gets in the way of you being the best caregiver you can be. Cut yourself some slack and don’t be so hard on yourself.
Mary Oliver is well-known for her poetry. Although I am not normally a lover of poetry, I do love this one that seems to encourage us to find and celebrate joy, regardless of what is going on around us. I hope you enJOY this brief poem of hers.
Don’t Hesitate
If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it.
There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be.
We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed.
Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world.
It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins.
Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty.
I would venture to say that 100% of us humans have some sort of mental health anomaly. In the Oxford dictionary, anomaly is defined as something that deviates from what is standard, normal, or expected.
A broken leg is an obvious malfunction: obvious to everyone who observes the cast that is worn or the crutches that are employed to hobble around. But what about what is going on in our brains? It is certainly true that certain behaviors are equally as detectable as a broken limb, but I believe the majority of us have degrees of anomalies of which only the individual affected might be aware. And we get up every morning hoping to crawl out of what that might mean for us: depression, anxiety, or fear of this, that, or the other.
The thrust of this brief post is two-fold:
to encourage those who suffer to seek beneficial support, and
to beseech others to be kind-hearted to those in need of your compassion.
To be sure, it is difficult to know what is going on in the emotional background of people we encounter so it is a very good practice to interact with others without passing judgment. I would very much appreciate being on the receiving end of a nonjudgmental encounter so it behooves me to extend that same courtesy to those who cross my path.
May we all practice acceptance and compassion towards ourselves and towards others.
Perhaps in addition to the above poster, this site would also be a helpful resource for all of us: NAMI
Some time ago, I came to the realization about how many places my almost seventy-two year old feet have taken me. I’ve lived in the following US states: California, Hawaii, Alaska, and Washington. I’ve traveled to the following countries: Canada, Mexico, France, Scotland, and the UK. (I know, that’s not a lot of places but just the same, my feet took me there and back!)
Sometimes our feet take us to geographical places; other times they take us to and through life experiences – not all of which are easy or pleasing. But those gnarled toes and fallen arches manage to carry us where we need to be and will continue to do so until they can’t.
A few years ago, I came to a place of acceptance of my body resulting in gratitude for everything it has endured and managed to survive. That may not seem like a monumental achievement to some, but for me, it most definitely has been. My body’s challenges and your body’s challenges may not be identical but there isn’t a person around that doesn’t have them – bodies or challenges – and we’re still here!
I HAVE SURVIVED THE LESS THAN ENJOYABLE BODY FOIBLES 100% OF THE TIME AND HAVE LIVED TO WRITE ABOUT IT!
Wow! And because I have evidence that such successes have occurred, when I’m in the midst of seemingly insurmountable medical, physical, or emotional challenges, I can look forward to getting to the other side of them to add yet another success to my growing evidentiary list.
Our lives never follow a straight path. We make turns, we leap or crawl over speed bumps and roadblocks, and when needed, we take breaks along the way while battling the insistent urge to just give up. More often than not, however, we keep going; we move forward, one step at a time, hoping for the best.
A Jagged Journey, is a novel that follows the pothole-filled lives of disparate characters between the ages of seven and seventy-seven who are far from perfect and for the most part, are not hesitant to admit it. Set in the Pacific Northwest of the United States, the diversity inherent within that region is front and center and will have readers laughing and crying in equal measure.
Laughing because the youngest character, Sammy, is a kick-in-the-butt delight when his honesty comes through loud and clear, challenging every adult with whom he comes in contact to sit up and pay attention.
And crying, because readers will see themselves in the imperfect childhoods that can find adults sinking or swimming in their grown-up years.
My novel was written for anyone eighteen years and older. Within its pages, readers will find loving friendships and relationships that will challenge even the hardest of hearts to open up to the many joys that life has to offer.
Although my second novel does not have the same focus as Requiem for the Status Quo with its’ storyline filled with the caregiver and loved one’s journey with Alzheimer’s and other dementia, you will always find that element in every novel I write, including this latest, A Jagged Journey.
What a privilege it is to love someone and be loved by them. There’s a reason why there are so many dating/relationship services out there: we crave connection, and happily-ever-after is a worthy goal to pursue.
I’m fortunate that my current 29-year relationship (married for 25 of those 29) quite naturally fell into place. Girl meets boy on a blind date set up by a dating site; girl and boy decide to get together for another date, and…the rest is history!
No one disputed my choice of a partner with whom I held hands, smooched in public, and eventually enjoyed full intimacy. That is not always the case, whether a partner is of a different race, financial standing, or of the same gender identity. I experienced racial hatred when I married my first husband who is Chinese American. As a newly married couple, we walked hand-in-hand on a weekend outing in an Eastern Washington town where we were verbally accosted by a woman who shouted, “Thou shalt not mix races! You are an abomination to God!” I veryunpolitely told her off and went on my way with my husband, enjoying the love we had already shared for more than eight years. That was 50 years ago, and I am still negatively affected by it. Many are harassed and abused in a similar manner because of the love they share with someone, harassment that takes many forms.
In the early 90s, I was privileged to work at a progressive Seattle law firm where one of my coworkers, a woman, was in a relationship with another woman. The two of them had certainly experienced discrimination but expressed that for the most part they had been fortunate. I asked my coworker how she and her partner had met. “Susan is who I fell in love with and she with me. It’s all about who you fall in love with.” That made sense to me and still does.
What also makes sense is living one’s truth and genuineness about who you are as an individual, and with whom you choose to share your life. Being who you are with someone else is rife with hurdles, regardless of your gender, but truly there is no other way to be. No ifs, ands, or buts – being safely and securely transparent in a relationship is a gift! What a privilege it is to live honestly, not having to pretend to be someone else, not living a cloaked identity just to be accepted by others.
I experience that freedom, and wish that same freedom for everyone seeking connection, love, and happily-ever-after.
I know words count because I recently experienced one word that means so much. Get a load of this! That one Hawaiian word, ALOHA, is packed with goodness. Not only does it mean “Hello” but it also means:
Love
Affection
Peace
Compassion
Mercy
That one word has a deeper cultural and spiritual significance to native Hawaiians for whom the term is used to define a force that holds together existence.
Am I the only one who thinks there may be a need for such a force in the world at large and specifically to where each of us are located?
I thought not. I even wrote about this same topic in the online Australian Publication in which I have a byline each issue: Grandparents Day Magazine. Spread the word!
There isn’t a person on this earth who couldn’t benefit from what Aloha has to offer. I think many of us think that only grandiose acts of kindness can have an impact. We might say, “How can just saying hello to someone or opening the door for them make a difference in a person’s day?” My answer to that is: “How did you feel when someone extended those kindnesses to you?” Exactly. It made you feel acknowledged and cared for.
A very good friend of mine calls these mini connections GLIMMERS. As a matter of fact, I recently wrote a blog piece Glimmers of Friendship, that elaborates on how some accidental meetings just might make the difference between having an improved day or not.
You and I can make a difference just by embodying Aloha in our everyday interactions. It might take some practice on our part, but if practice makes perfect, then let me commit to practicing my heart out.
There are 26 letters in the English alphabet and what I find amazing is that those 26 letters make up all the words we could ever want to write in our lifetime. I find that such an endearing fact!!!
But you wanna know what I REALLY love? Sending greeting cards to people.
Okay, true confessions time: I am a card-a-holic. Yes, I am! I love sending cards to people for noteworthy occasions or for no occasion whatsoever. Why do I do that? Well, it’s a passion of mine, but also, I have to believe that any day I can improve someone’s life with snail mail that lands in their physical mailbox, is a good day.
And who doesn’t want to gift someone with a good day?
Trust me when I say, I know that texting and writing emails is a more efficient way of getting ones’ message across, but is it always the best way? No, I don’t think it is. The tactile experience of someone slicing open an envelope to receive my greeting excites the heck out of me! I send more cards than I receive but that doesn’t stop me from sending at least one card a week to someone, and what also doesn’t stop me is the ever-increasing price of postage because seriously people:
Can you put a price tag on happiness? Nope, you cannot.
I hope that my own country’s postal service never goes out of business, and I am doing my best to support it by purchasing the stamps it sells and giving the employees something super worthwhile to do: improving someone else’s day by delivering a card!
So, there you have it. I am grateful for the English alphabet that was created centuries ago so I could stand at a greeting card counter – like I did the other day – and carefully choose future tactile experiences that many someones will receive in their postal mailbox.
I SURE DO LOVE WHAT JUST 26 LETTERS OF THE ALPHABET CAN DO FOR OTHERS!
Marcus Aurelius stated a good thing in this particular meditation, but boy is it difficult to comply with such wisdom. Am I right?
Negative matters and thoughts can really color our view of what’s going on around us but because of that negativity, I guess it’s far more beneficial to only give them their minimum due and then shift our focus to more positive happenings. After being on this earth for more than 71.5 years, I can state without hesitation that while yucky stuff is going on left, right, front, and center, positive stuff is equally as present…although not always recognizable. In a post last month, You Can Never Have Too Much Hope, I suggested that hopelessness is not a desired state of being. It’s a brief post I hope you will click on.
That is where hope comes in – an emotion that just might provide clarity when all the lines of decency seem blurred.
How well do you know the person who bags your groceries on a weekly basis? I am here to encourage you to engage with staff you see every week because the rewards to you, and the staff, are immeasurable.
The other day my husband and I said goodbye to our favorite grocery bagger, “Steven.” We saw Steven every week for a few years, and each time we did so – and after a certain measure of trust was established between customer and staff person – Steven opened up more and more to us. We shared grandchild stories while he shared tidbits about his hobbies and his later in life dating adventures.
But the other day, just a couple days before he moved across the country to help out his daughter in her hardware store business, he honored us by walking our groceries out to our car and then opened up like never before when I asked him how long he had worked at that Redmond, Washington area grocery store. His response floored us.
Steven revealed that he started working at the store six years ago, a couple years after he had survived, and been rehabilitated from, a brain aneurysm that didn’t quite stop him dead in his tracks. As a 50-something year old adult, he had to learn everything from scratch. Prior to this severe medical event, Steven was a professor of industrial engineering at a Washington university. Now he bags groceries, which, let me tell you, is a noble profession, especially during all the pandemic and other world events that pitted frontline workers in the midst of disarray and uncertainty.
My husband and I were shocked by his revelation given that we didn’t detect anything medically abnormal about this now 60-something year old gentleman. We never knew about the challenges he endured and overcame; we simply enjoyed our weekly interactions with him and quite frankly, felt those interactions were the highlight of each week’s mundane shopping trips. We were not looking forward to his planned move out of the state.
Opening up and being transparent with others is a vulnerable thing to do and shows a strength that many do not possess.
Once our groceries were loaded into our vehicle we visited with Steven some more and when it was time for him to head back into the store, the three of us exchanged goodbye hugs. We will miss this valuable connection but are happy that the state of Indiana will now get to benefit from this stellar human being we had come to know.
How many times in a lifetime are we asked: How are you?
How many times have we answered: Fine.
How many times has that not been a true statement? Probably lots and lots of times.
We don’t always feel fine, and when I say “feel” I don’t just mean the physical or medical definition of fine. How about emotionally? How about the complicated psychological aspects that are tied in with how each of us is handling life as it presents itself to us?
Our confidence or lack thereof. Our sense of safety or danger in any given hour of every day. Our ability to cope when coping feels like the least practiced skill available to us.
I would suggest that each of us check in with those individuals within our sphere of influence: spouse or partner, neighbor, coworker, and friend, so that we assure the person we are querying that we really want to know and that they can be as transparent as they are comfortable being.
When we get in the practice of honestly inquiring about each other, it is my hope that our responses will be equally as honest so that dialogue, true dialogue will take place.
I hope that you are fine, but if you’re not, it’s okay to say so.
Last week I wrote a post about something terrific that happened to me while traveling recently. This post spotlights another terrific instance that took place at the commencement of our travels.
Our scheduled ride share failed to show up at our house to take us to the airport.
That certainly doesn’t sound like good news, does it? WELL, my husband and I had never used a ride share but wanted to do so for our most recent trip. Rather than drive our own vehicle to an offsite airport parking lot, we decided to enter the 21st century and hire a lift like so many other people routinely do. A couple weeks before our intended airport commute, we expressed our fear of doing so to our neighbor who immediately offered to be our backup should anything get in the way of the driver getting us to our intended destination. The day before our travel day, we scheduled the driver to pick us up at 7 the following morning.
Fifteen minutes before the driver was scheduled to arrive, they called me to say that their vehicle was slipping and sliding all over the road (it had snowed a bit the night before) and they didn’t know when they would arrive at our house. We both agreed that the scheduled ride needed to be cancelled. That left me needing to contact my next door neighbor at 6:57 am to ask if he could take us to the airport – a destination that was a good hour away.
I’ll be at your place in ten minutes.
Yep! He had chosen to monitor his phone starting at 7 am just in case he was needed so he was awake and ready to roll if called upon.
What started as a stressful travel day turned into an exercise in appreciating the goodness that exists just over the hedge/fence. We certainly knew our neighbors were the best neighbors ever and this incident confirmed what we already knew.
So if you’re looking for some good news to brighten your day, look no further than someone who just might be a stone’s throw away.
I recently had the opportunity to see an extraordinary bit of good news unfurl right before my eyes. My husband and I recently traveled by airplane for our 25th wedding anniversary trip. From my seat in the plane I could view everyone else entering the airplane as they were greeted by flight attendants. A woman walked through the plane’s portal and handed the flight attendants a box of See’s chocolates. I figured she must also be in the industry and gifted her fellow flight attendants with a gift.
At our airport destination’s baggage claim area, this same woman was waiting for her luggage just as we were waiting for ours. I walked up to her and said, “Can I ask you a question?” She nodded a yes. “Did you know those flight attendants you gifted with a box of candy?” Her response, “No. When I fly, I always give the attendants a box of chocolates to thank them for the difficult job they do.” I then put my hand to my heart and said, “Thank you for making my day. What a lovely act of kindness you are in the practice of giving.”
Kindness doesn’t have to be a grandiose effort to make a difference.
We have all averted our eyes from an uncomfortable site, which is probably something different for each and every one of us. But there is more to that thought than meets the eye. Seeing eye to eye doesn’t have to mean that we agree or understand everything a person stands for, rather, it could mean seeing and acknowledging the existence of he/she/they, regardless of their standing in life, their race or ethnicity, their religious beliefs, or their me-ness.
Acceptance is defined by the Oxford dictionary as: The action or process of being received as adequate or suitable, typically to be admitted into a group.
Don’t get me wrong, I am the first to say that I don’t love everyone with whom I come in contact because I haven’t known everyone with whom I come in contact for a long enough period of time to develop such a feeling.
With that said, however, even if I don’t agree with everything and everyone’s viewpoint, I don’t pretend for a second that everyone should change to meet my requirements, however adopt-worthy, nebulous, or ethereal they may be. Choice comes into play when applied to others, just as it does when applied to me.
I have never been a fan of clubs or organizations that are limiting in their scope.
For me, once you start doing that, exclusivity takes on an ugly appearance and one’s status becomes either elitist or not noteworthy. Ugh, how horrible that must feel to be in the latter category.
That is why when I look someone in the eye, I will give them the benefit of the doubt and let a far higher power than I handle the rest. I don’t want to be the judge or the jury during this limited lifespan I have been given. So here I am. Judge for yourself.
Have mercy, I can truthfully tell you that I have been VERY hard on myself as an adult. Heck, even events for which I am not proud that happened many, many decades ago have come back to haunt me and shame me.
But then I learned about self-compassion and I realized those past events, and that person who was involved in those events, me, isn’t the me I am today.
Nope. Some matters took lots and lots of scrubbing to wash away the negative sense of worth that permeated my mind and my heart. LOTS of scrubbing. But as Maya Angelou stated very wisely during the course of her life:
“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
Trust me when I say, I believe in you and I really, really don’t want you to be so hard on yourself. If you wouldn’t treat a friend in that manner, please extend the same courtesy to yourself. Peace be with you.
When Senator Gabby Giffords was shot at a campaign meet-and-greet and her future as a healthy human being was in severe jeopardy, a news reporter asked her husband, former astronaut Mark Kelly who is now the senior senator from Arizona, the following question when he expressed his extremely positive beliefs about his wife’s recovery, and I paraphrase:
Mark, don’t you think you’re hoping for too much?
His response, and again I paraphrase:
You can never have too much hope!
I have to believe that hope never disappoints. Let’s face it, the alternative, hopelessness, is far from an ideal state of being. Whatever you are going through, I hope that hope never stops growing within your heart and your mind.
No doubt each of us can name a friend or loved one who died younger than they should have. For me, it’s my sister-in-law, Wendy, who died of cancer and never got to meet her daughter’s children nor witness her son’s wedding; and my son-in-law’s father, David, who also died of cancer and not only didn’t get to see his children get married but also missed out on being grandpa to his son’s two children. Although it was years ago now, we are still feeling the after effects.
This body of mine has certainly inspired some complaints on my part; all those aches and pains and the inability to get up off the floor when playing with my grandkids without much fanfare. But I get to play with my grandkids on the floor. What a gift!
I am still here and Wendy and David are not so I will honor them both by not complaining too loudly when the privilege of aging has been granted to me and not granted to those two stellar human beings.
That sure gives me pause, as I am certain it does you where your losses are concerned.
A good friend of mine calls the above types of connections Glimmers.
I wonder where you experience glimmers? I am quite certain that not a day has gone by when I am in public that I haven’t been involved in an accidental meeting with someone, or several someones. Just ask my husband…there isn’t an elevator – or a store checkout counter – where I have not reached out to a stranger for that very short glimmer of friendship.
You don’t have to bug the heck out of someone to make a connection wherein they are frantically trying to get away from you – not in the least. All that is needed is a smile, a kind word, a compliment about their sparkly boots – the latter occurring just a couple weeks ago – or even just wishing a stranger a positive day of sorts.
Give it a try. You just might have made that stranger’s day with that accidental meeting’s mini conversation.
And may I add, I hope someone does the same for you someday soon that will make you feel better than you did just moments before.
In November of 2024, my brother had knee replacement surgery. My brother doesn’t live alone, he lives with his pup, Ramona; she is the quintessential loving doggie everyone dreams of having.
She is so well-loved by the neighbors, that with my brother’s inability to take Ramona on her two times a day walks, the neighbors took over that duty so that my brother’s dog could get exercise and attend to her daily doggie business. Shortly after the substitute dog walker neighbors started their daily tasks, they told my brother that Ramona wouldn’t take the time to do said business and refused to take an extended walk through the vast neighborhood.
Everyone concluded that the dog’s reason for wanting to truncate her walk was no doubt due to her attentiveness to my brother’s needs: she didn’t want to be away from the house, and more importantly, her daddy – my brother. What if Daddy fell while Ramona was away? What if he needed her undivided attention, usually proffered by placing her head on my brother’s knee and lovingly looking deeply into my brother’s eyes?
How can the walkers not understand that her appointed rounds involved more than just sniffing every leaf in the neighborhood but also included being available 24/7 to her housemate, my brother? Quite frankly, when I spent time with my brother at his house during his recovery, Ramona followed him everywhere he ambled – assisted by his walker or his cane – never losing sight of him, even though she knew her Aunt Irene was providing her daddy with all the care he could possibly require.
Dedication. Attentiveness. Love personified…or should I say dog-i-fied? Thank you, Ramona, for being such a devoted caregiver to my brother.
I think we can all agree that we are surrounded by bad news stories. We need not look any further than a pop-up notification on our phones to catch BREAKING or HEADLINE news that is rarely good.
I am as guilty as any other consumer in that I have recently paid more attention to the yucky happenings in my world than the good that already exists. You and I can certainly find some delightful happenings right in our own backyard, can’t we?
Seeing as I live in the United States that was in a very contentious election season that played out this very month, I have relished the opportunity to look for even the smallest of victories that come my way so as to lighten the emotional load that too often clouds my view of the world.
So here are a few positive incidents I had the privilege of recently celebrating:
My husband and I celebrated having met each other on a blind date 28 years ago that changed our lives in such a very good way.
Our two grandchildren have thus far managed to stay healthy, even though their school sessions started a few months ago. That’s a record because as most of us know, schools can be regular germ factories!
On top of that, two of our adult children are teachers in the local school system, and they too have stayed healthy. Let me tell you, that is good news worth celebrating!!
Our oldest daughter and her husband will celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary in just a month’s time and our youngest daughter and her husband recently celebrated their 13th wedding anniversary!
The home of one of my nieces who lives in the region of the United States that was hard-hit by one of the recent hurricanes suffered physical damage, but my niece, her husband, and their teenage daughter escaped bodily harm. Homes can be repaired, but human bodies aren’t quite as easily fixed. It is now my dream that full restoration for all affected will be forthcoming.
The two novels I wrote, Requiem for the Status Quo, and A Jagged Journey, continue to receive positive reviews! Requiem is dedicated to all family members caring for their loved ones with dementia. I celebrate that others have been helped by my own challenging experiences that were included in that memoir-like novel and I dream of a world that eradicates Alzheimer’s and all other dementia.
Majoring on the “minors” is a great way of living when positive happenings cross our paths. They are so very important because the more good we acknowledge, the less yucky the bad stuff will seem to be.
Focusing on the good news around us is a healthy way to close out the current year, don’t you think? That’s what I plan on doing because the alternative just doesn’t seem very appetizing to me.
This very brief post is meant to help me, and anyone else for whom it applies, to acknowledge the differences in our thoughts and beliefs but not allow those differences to dehumanize the other.
No one wins when barriers get in the way of decency and kindness.
Us humans really like to point fingers at others, don’t we? Doing so lessens our own guilt about the way things are going – whether in our family, our job, or our country.
As a United States citizen, the political climate can seem overwhelming, because it is. That overwhelm is perhaps experienced by our loss of sleep, increased anxiety, or even blaming one whole group of people for the country’s ills. But for most of us, that overwhelm is contained and instead of doing bad, we endeavor to do good.
The recent violent acts towards a political candidate were the actions of mentally unstable people; they were not representative of me and they were not representative of you. Individuals, not a group of people, carried out those violent acts. Those individuals made a decision to take the law and my country into their own hands. I don’t support those actions, nor will I ever support making a point by using violence.
I certainly do support choice, however. Although sometimes difficult, I choose to accept that others have differing opinions than I. And accepting that fact doesn’t mean I agree, rather, I acknowledge a person’s right to think differently, as long as that person is civil towards myself and others. Can we please start a movement to acknowledge our many differences without engaging with each other on a battlefield where absolutely no one comes out as victor?
Thirty-three years ago, Rodney King was severely beaten after an attempted arrest in 1991. The acquittal of the officers involved in that beating sparked the Los Angeles riots of 1992. The recipient of that beating by the acquitted officers made a television appearance during the height of the riots to plead for peace and calm. Rodney King is quoted as saying,
People, I just want to say, you know, can we all get along?Can we get along?…It’s just not right. It’s not right. It’s not, it’s not going to change anything…Please, we can get along here. We all can get along. I mean, we’re all stuck here for a while. Let’s try to work it out.
PLEASE EVERYONE, PLEASE. LET’S TRY TO WORK IT OUT.
What a terrific resource water is. We rely on water for everything we do. If you don’t think that’s the case, I challenge you to think of one aspect of your life that doesn’t rely on water. Cue the Jeopardy jingle while we all wait…
Life is a parade. Sometimes we march along and realize we have passed by what we were looking for. What do we do? Stand there and drop out of the parade? March on with regrets? Feel bad about how we looked or that everything we wanted was on the wrong side of the street? It’s passed! Forget it and march on!
The life of a family caregiver, attending to a loved one with a disease or malady that is all-encompassing, is never Same-O Same-O. Any semblance of status quo flies out the window shortly after taking on this learn-as-you-go caregiver role. The boring life about which the family caregiver used to complain no longer exists as she or he memorializes that long-abandoned way of living. My memorial to status quo existed while attending to my father during his Alzheimer’s journey. That is why I wrote this novel, based on facts from my time caring for my father.
In light of the way life has unfolded in the world as of recently, I have endeavored to discover a way of surviving the day-to-day tedium, and it appears I have done so for myself. It is not a religion, with its set orthodoxies and rules; rather, it is a way of living that is extremely pliable:
Mary Oliver is well-known for her poetry. Although I am not normally a lover of poetry, I do love this one that seems to encourage us to find and celebrate joy, regardless of what is going on around us. I hope you enJOY this brief poem of hers.
Joy is not made to be a crumb.
To be sure, it is difficult to know what is going on in the emotional background of people we encounter so it is a very good practice to interact with others without passing judgment. I would very much appreciate being on the receiving end of a nonjudgmental encounter so it behooves me to extend that same courtesy to those who cross my path.
And my feet will take me there.
Our lives never follow a straight path. We make turns, we leap or crawl over speed bumps and roadblocks, and when needed, we take breaks along the way while battling the insistent urge to just give up. More often than not, however, we keep going; we move forward, one step at a time, hoping for the best.
What a privilege it is to love someone and be loved by them. There’s a reason why there are so many dating/relationship services out there: we crave connection, and happily-ever-after is a worthy goal to pursue.
I know words count because I recently experienced one word that means so much. Get a load of this! That one Hawaiian word, ALOHA, is packed with goodness. Not only does it mean “Hello” but it also means:
You and I can make a difference just by embodying Aloha in our everyday interactions. It might take some practice on our part, but if practice makes perfect, then let me commit to practicing my heart out.
But you wanna know what I REALLY love? Sending greeting cards to people.
I hope that my own country’s postal service never goes out of business, and I am doing my best to support it by purchasing the stamps it sells and giving the employees something super worthwhile to do: improving someone else’s day by delivering a card!
That is where hope comes in – an emotion that just might provide clarity when all the lines of decency seem blurred.
How well do you know the person who bags your groceries on a weekly basis? I am here to encourage you to engage with staff you see every week because the rewards to you, and the staff, are immeasurable.
How many times has that not been a true statement? Probably lots and lots of times.
I’ll be at your place in ten minutes.
Don’t get me wrong, I am the first to say that I don’t love everyone with whom I come in contact because I haven’t known everyone with whom I come in contact for a long enough period of time to develop such a feeling.
In November of 2024, my brother had knee replacement surgery. My brother doesn’t live alone, he lives with his pup, Ramona; she is the quintessential loving doggie everyone dreams of having.
Everyone concluded that the dog’s reason for wanting to truncate her walk was no doubt due to her attentiveness to my brother’s needs: she didn’t want to be away from the house, and more importantly, her daddy – my brother. What if Daddy fell while Ramona was away? What if he needed her undivided attention, usually proffered by placing her head on my brother’s knee and lovingly looking deeply into my brother’s eyes?
I think we can all agree that we are surrounded by bad news stories. We need not look any further than a pop-up notification on our phones to catch BREAKING or HEADLINE news that is rarely good.
Us humans really like to point fingers at others, don’t we? Doing so lessens our own guilt about the way things are going – whether in our family, our job, or our country.
I certainly do support choice, however. Although sometimes difficult, I choose to accept that others have differing opinions than I. And accepting that fact doesn’t mean I agree, rather, I acknowledge a person’s right to think differently, as long as that person is civil towards myself and others. Can we please start a movement to acknowledge our many differences without engaging with each other on a battlefield where absolutely no one comes out as victor?
Living: the ultimate team sport 