November 2019 - Page 2 of 3 - Adulting: Second- Half

W-A-I-T

“There is a thing that I do: W-A-I-T. It stands for “Why Am I Talking?” explains Hanks. “I wrote that down in a notebook that I keep to remind myself that listening, for me anyway, is a disciplinary art. I have to force myself to listen because I love the sound of my own voice and because I’m a movie star I’ve been infantilized by everybody I come across who says I’m wonderful.” – Tom Hanks, being interviewed about his new movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neigborhood, in which he depicts Mr. Rogers

Listening is a disciplinary art for almost everyone, except for a few treasured, gifted, amazing people who everyone is equally intrigued by, and adores, all at the same time. I’m not a great listener. And since I am not a charming movie star, I’m already starting out with two strikes against me.

Despite swearing that I was going to expand my horizons this year, and start volunteering for things that didn’t involve my local school district, (trying to branch out from what I have done for the last two decades or so), I’ve ended up becoming a mentor to a 10th grader and a 3rd grader on a weekly basis. (like many middle-aged women, I am not great at saying “no”, nor was I doing an especially ambitious job of looking for volunteer opportunities, outside of the schools) I had to get special training for this mentor position. I went into the training cocky, presumptuous and overconfident. I’ve raised four almost grown children, who I think are pretty special people, and I’ve volunteered in the schools for 20 years. I could teach this “mentoring class” on the fly with one hand tied behind my back. I’ll put my time in to meet the state requirements, but I will probably be bored out of my mind. HA!

The focus of the mentor training was on LISTENING and what “real listening” is, and what it means to people. If you are good listener, apparently your response to the person you are listening to, will be a good reflection and understanding of what they expressed to you. That’s it. That’s all that they want. They want to feel heard and understood. They want to feel validated and important. They want your confidence that they are capable people who will figure out their own issues, in due time. The worst response apparently is advice, evaluations, and analyzations. Even reassurances can just be experienced as condescending brush-offs.

So right after my training session (after finishing up eating my crow and choking on some feathers), I ended up writing a long apology for my lack of listening skills, throughout the years, to my family (husband and kids) on our family group chat. My dear ones all kindly accepted my apology with not one protestation that I was mistaken about my lack of good listening skills. There was not one “awww, but you are too hard on yourself, you are a GREAT listener” from any single member of my crew. Rightly so. I then sheepishly extended this apology to some of my lifelong friends. They were very gracious in accepting my apology, as well.

I’ve worked harder on focusing on what the other person is saying, instead of using that time to come up with my soliloquy in response. Still, I know that I have some work to do on this listening process, yet. Yesterday, when I rudely interrupted my 10th grade mentee with a question about her story, she patiently but firmly replied, “I didn’t get to that part of the story yet.”

I like Tom Hanks’ W-A-I-T trick. I don’t want to be a walking podcast. I want to be present for my family and friends. I want to be a little more Mr. Rogers and little less “movie star – in my mind”. I think that life probably feels a little bit more in depth and meaningful that way.

“When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen.”― Ernest Hemingway

“This is the problem with dealing with someone who is actually a good listener. They don’t jump in on your sentences, saving you from actually finishing them, or talk over you, allowing what you do manage to get out to be lost or altered in transit. Instead, they wait, so you have to keep going.”
― Sarah Dessen, Just Listen

The Lesson of the Trees

****Above is another great one from Think Smarter, my favorite Twitter feed of all-time.

Every morning, on the drive to school, my daughter and I ride through a street that is canopied by trees. It is like a long, beautiful tree tunnel and I look forward to driving through it, every single day. This tree-lined lane is one of those lovely places that is probably roped off from time to time, so that people can have beautiful, natural wedding processions and celebrations, underneath the comforting shade and protection that these majestic trees so ably provide. It is interesting to me that these trees are firmly rooted, on directly opposite sides of the road. They are big, strong, solid trees that have weathered many Florida storms and even hurricanes, together. And although they sit on complete opposite sides of the road, they look to be almost exactly the same. They all carry the same tree DNA.

By far, the most exquisite part of these lovely trees, is the canopy of delicate, yet sturdy sunlit leaves and branches, that they have created, where they come together in gambrel fashion. It is breathtaking, how desperately these trees seem to want to meet in the center, as the highest part of each of these trees, reach for each other, in a deep yearning stretch. It just seems so natural and correct, for them to want to find each other in the center of the road. And where these awe-inspiring trees finally do meet, their coming together, at the highest place – oh my, their creation looks almost as lovely a rooftop, as does the beautiful, vast, starry night sky.

We have so much to learn from the wise, old, sensible trees.

Minutes of Unrest

Good one from Think Smarter (Twitter) this morning:

My husband and I watched 60 Minutes last night. I have a love/hate relationship with 60 Minutes, because I love the unique stories that the show presents, yet the show really stirs me up emotionally. Too much. Last night, I felt muddled wondering if mining our ocean bottom is really an answer to prayers and a wonderful, vast, unexplored resource, or the last natural environment on Earth that we have left to destroy. I just don’t know. And then the story about Sesame Street making a special TV show, especially for the children who have grown up in tents in refugee camps in the Middle East (miraculously, many of these tents have satellite dishes), touched me to tears, but then, it also made me sick to my stomach, imagining one child, much less thousands, growing up in those fields of desperation. I then found my thoughts wandering over to my shallow side, getting hypercritical about Lesley Stahl’s earring choices and her moppy hair style, which spurred me into some curiosity about Lesley’s age. Lesley Stahl is 77 years old!! She is still an interesting (because she, herself, is curious and interested), sharp, objective reporter. Lesley Stahl has written a book about how much she loves being a grandparent, and she and I share the exact same birth date. Shame on me. Lesley Stahl can wear her hair and her earrings any damn way that she wants. Lesley Stahl is awesome. Simply awesome. Back on the pedestal, she goes. (See, I told you, 60 Minutes puts me in a conflicted state of mind, which is not a restful way to end the week.) 60 Minutes should NOT be aired on Sunday nights. But, it is a good contrast to and break from football . . . . . and then, the conflicted mind continues on and on and on . . . .

Sunday Soul

I’ve been haughty and I’ve been humble.

Humble feels better.

I’ve been valid and I’ve been vulnerable.

Vulnerable feels more connected.

I’ve been smart, salty and sassy.

But that was all to cover and soothe

My sweet simple soul.

I dined by myself last night.

Table for one.

It was

Delicious.

“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” – William Wordsworth

“Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. ” – Thomas Gray

Readers, I’m feeling like today is a good day for poetry. Please take the time to write down the poetry flowing from your heart today and please post it to my Comments section, if you have the inclination. Love, peace and poetry are my wishes for you today. Tranquility.

Conversation Starter

My youngest son called me up the other day, with a nervous tone in his voice. One of his best friends from high school, a boy whom we all adore, but who definitely has some wilder tendencies, was visiting my son at his university last weekend. (they go to different schools) I held my breath wondering what my son’s confession was going to be, and I instantly was wracking my brain as to what the boys might have gotten themselves into, in their youthful exuberance.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” my son stammered.

This is the time in the conversation when I wanted to scream, “Just spit it out, dammit!!” Many times in previous years, I have screamed those very words to all four of my darling children, during times of high hormonal content in my bloodstream mixed with bad sleep from the previous night, but this time, my son actually caught me at a calm, post- relaxing, meditative moment, so I remained quiet and patient.

It turns out that my son wants to change his major to a less practical major, one which really interests him much more. Phew. Exhale. Sigh of relief.

“You could NEVER disappoint me, except in moments that you would deliberately hurt yourself or hurt other people from bad intentions and actions,” was my first and instant response. We then had a nice conversation, weighing the pros and cons of his decision to change his course of studies. Me, being the forever dreamer/optimist, focused a little heavy on the “pros”, whereas his father, who is visiting the boys this weekend for his brother’s annual fraternity “Dads’ Weekend” and is far more practical and level-headed, will probably focus a little bit more on the “cons”, when he has breakfast with my youngest son this morning. (My husband and I balance each other out quite well, in that way.) Still, in the end, it is my son’s decision with what direction that he wants to take his life, and I trust that he will find the right answer for himself.

“Honor thy father and mother” is one of those biblical edicts that has caused stomachs to churn for centuries. It cropped up in my head, as I felt the disappointment in myself, that my son feared talking about his major change with me. Everyone has a different idea of what “honor thy father and mother” actually really means. Now that I have been a parent for almost 24 years, I have seen this edict from all different angles and I feel more firmly in my ideas about that edict, than I ever have before.

My husband and I chose to bring four children into this world. We did this for us. We wanted the experience of parenting. We wanted to build a family together. My children’s beautiful souls graciously accepted the challenge of being our children, despite not asking to be born. They have fulfilled their commitment to us, by allowing us the magnanimous experience of raising them. I am honored. I am more than honored, by that fact. I am utterly grateful. I hope to have a satisfying relationship with all of my children and their families for the rest of our lives, but that is up to all of us, as adults, to be healthy, considerate, loving people, who have and who accept healthy boundaries – people who anyone would want to have a satisfying relationship with. When we are adults, it becomes a mutual thing. There are no “shoulds.” I am not a selfless martyr. I chose to have my children. I also have a life outside of my family and that is important for all of us, for all of our ultimate growth experiences in Life. I do not care to have any relationships with any other people that are heavily based on fear, guilt, control, obligation or shame – not my children, not my husband, not my extended family, not my friends, not even with myself or with God. I choose authenticity. I choose healthy Love.

I think that it is very sad to use the Bible to make excuses or pardons for inflicting our ugly behavior (without repentance), the kind of negative behavior that we sometimes and most often, inflict on the people who are the closest to us – the people whom we love the most. I read something recently that said the true way that we honor our parents and our family name is basically, by not being a jerk. We dishonor our parents by leading lives filled with deceitful, criminal activities. “Honoring” speaks nothing of the intricacies and delicacies of a mutually satisfying relationship.

I know that not everyone sees things the way that I do. I am comfortable with that. I love the variety in this world. It has taken me a long time (probably most of my life) to figure out my current life philosophy and I understand that this current philosophy is more than likely to evolve and to grow and to change, as I do. The people whom I most intimate with in life with, are also in the ever-changing process of growth and unfolding. I respect that. My conversation with my son this week, spurned a lot more thought, introspection, and contemplation than just my opinion on his career goals. It is said that relationships are “people growers” and I like to think that my son and I both experienced some healthy individual growth from our conversation. This individual growth helps the garden of our relationship to continue to bloom in a healthy, satisfying way for both of us, a relationship with its roots being firmly planted in the deep, rich, nourishing soil of authentic Love.

The First Five Days

But Friday is the easiest of those five days!!! Happy Friday!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!! New readers, it’s always casual Friday here at Adulting – Second Half. We stay in the shallow end on Fridays. I refuse to enter the inner depths of my indoor mind pool, on Friday. On Friday, I typically list three favorite things, websites, products, foods, songs, etc. and I encourage you to list your favorites in my Comments section.

I typically think of a favorite thing during the week, when I am using something, perusing somewhere, or snoozing, in my bed. Then, I write those inspirations on my calendar to remind me to share them with you, my beloved readers. Unfortunately, this is one of those weeks where I got “away from myself” and my normal routine. So, I have nothing to jog my memory to what to share with you. I decided I will write a list of some of my favorite things to do, to inspire you to write your own list of why life can be so satisfying. It really is the small things, sometimes, that add up to a good life.

A Sampling List of Some of My Favorite Things to Do:

Long, rambling, funny meals and conversations with my family and my friends.

Long, rambling walks with my husband and my dogs.

Cuddling with my husband in bed . . . . and other things.

Listening to my kids when they are in “excited, chatter mode” (even my adult kids still get this way, sometimes).

Writing.

Reading.

Getting really lost in a really good book or movie or TV series.

Discussing “what” I got lost in, from a really good book, movie, or TV series.

Watching SNL videos of skits, while doing stretches and planks. (I honestly just really like the SNL skit part)

Kissing my dogs on top of their heads. (I leave lipstick marks on our yellow lab)

Cuddling with my collie. She is such a cuddle bug! (Giant Pomeranian lap dog)

Crossing things off of my to-do list.

Making people laugh and feeling clever about it.

Trying out a new place, restaurant, shop, trail, skill, modality, amusement etc.

Taking the time for putting together a really cool outfit.

Driving aimlessly with the convertible top down, and the music blaring.

Doing and witnessing random acts of kindness.

Really connecting with someone and feeling like you have helped them reach a new insight that they were struggling to reach.

Flipping aimless through magazines and ripping out the pages that move me.

Laughing hard, loud and obnoxiously, from complete hilarity.

These are just a few things that popped right into my head, when I focused on the thought of “some of my favorite things to do.” It took me all of seven minutes to write down. Write your own list. Right now. It’s an uplifting thing to do. You’ll be happy that you did it. (I think that “bossing people around” might be one of my favorite things to do, but I’m not going to own that one. 😉 ) Have a great weekend!!!

40 Encouraging Quotes & Words Of Encouragement To Get You Through The Hardest Times In Life | YourTango

Conundrum

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This has been one of those weeks that what I envisioned the week to look like, has NOT even come close to being true. The calm, cool week of me getting back to my up-to-date, normal pace, organized flow before the holidays are upon us – that perfect, even-keel, “just breathe” week that I have envisioned, is instead turning into a week that is culminating in me having to race out of the house this morning for my first ever acupuncture appointment for a never-ending eye twitch (story for another blog post, some day), while laundry accumulates to the mountain high levels it was when all six of us still lived under one roof (ditto that for dishes in the sink), and our dogs reverting back to puppyhood, having accidents in the house, as a subconscious retaliation (my guess – I’d have to check with Cesar Milan to verify the truth to this theory) to the fact that we are WAY off our typical schedule and they are not happy. It doesn’t feel good to be out of sorts. I agree and I sympathize with my dogs, but I won’t stoop to their level. I’m not THAT crazy.

This excerpt was from my morning meditation by Anne Wilson Schaef:

“We are not machines. We will NEVER be machines. Regardless of how sophisticated science becomes, it will never be able to emulate the complexity of a simple human being. . . . . Today is a good day to celebrate our complexity and our unreasonableness! There are times when we are not understandable to ourselves or anybody else. So be it. Isn’t it great? We are not understandable! We are too complex to be completely understood. We are a conundrum. We are a paradox. We are a mystery. We are unfathomable. We are great!”

What a wonderful way to spin “our crazy”, both individually and collectively! I love it. Here’s some more good reassurance about our craziness (from a “doctor”, no less) before I go prepare myself to get needles poked into my face. Ending note:

The Worry Fix

“Any concern too small to be turned into a prayer is too small to be made into a burden.” – Corrie ten Boom

Quotes also attributed to Corrie ten Boom, a Dutch watchmaker and a writer, who, with her family members, helped many Jews escape the Nazi Holocaust, by hiding them in her home:

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.

When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.

I had read these quotes, many times before, but I had never heard of Corrie ten Boom. When I looked her up, I thought that she would have been Native American, truthfully, because of her unusual last name. Her most famous writing is the book called The Hiding Place, based on her family’s experience of helping the Jews in the Netherlands. Corrie ten Boom’s entire family was eventually arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned for their being part of “the resistance movement.” Her father and her sister died while they were detained in the camps towards the end of World War II.

This is one of my favorite quotes from the Wikipedia page about Corrie ten Boom:

“Ten Boom was initially held in solitary confinement. After three months, she was taken to her first hearing. At her trial, ten Boom spoke about her work with the mentally disabled; the Nazi lieutenant scoffed, because the Nazis had been killing mentally disabled individuals for years in accordance with their eugenics policies. Ten Boom defended her work by saying that in the eyes of God, a mentally disabled person might be more valuable “than a watchmaker. Or a lieutenant.”

I think that she was on to something there.

Corrie Ten Boom was a devout Christian, but this is an interesting quote about how her father felt about the importance of helping the Jews during World War II:

“A devoted reader of the Old Testament, he believed that the Jews were the “chosen people” and told the woman, “In this household, God’s people are always welcome”. The family then became very active in the Dutch underground hiding refugees and honoring the Jewish Sabbath. The family never sought to convert any of the Jews who stayed with them.”

When I write about God or prayers in my blog, I am not trying to convert anyone to any kind of thinking or belief system. I understand and respect that not everyone prays. There are many paths to God, and “God” holds different meaning for everyone. I believe that there are many paths to a Higher Power and I believe that most people have a higher power, even if that higher power is hard for an individual to conjure or to grasp and fully understand. I personally consider myself to be far more spiritual than I am religious.

I wrote the first quote in one of my inspirational journals because I am guilty of worrying way too much. About just about everything. I worry about how much that I worry. I pray a lot, too. About just about everything. I’ve been known to pray to God for guidance to a better air freshener. (By the way, the answer was Bath & Body Works Eucalyptus Mint plug-ins. They smell really good.) The first quote reminded me a lot about the story of the little boy whose father was the town’s Expert Toymaker. The little boy was very frustrated with his favorite toy, which had been broken for quite some time.

In anger and dismay, the little boy yelled to his father, “WHY haven’t you fixed MY TOY?!?!”

His father, the Expert, calmly answered, “You never put it into my hands to fix.”

Back This Up

I want to be a back-up singer. I can’t really sing. At all. Or dance. At all. But damn, back-up singers are so incredibly cool. I just really want to be one. Maybe in a future life . . . .

My husband and I attended Elvis Costello’s concert on Sunday night. It was really, really good. After getting over the shock of seeing all of the “old people” there (much like my grandmother-in-law who didn’t particularly like her Senior Living home because everyone there was “so old” – never mind the fact that she was one of the oldest people there), we really enjoyed ourselves. Elvis is still an amazing crooner. His keyboardist, bass player and drummer were all totally on point. The modern art flashing up on the screens behind the band, was a cool, thought-provoking touch. And despite being old, most of the concert goers were really fun and energetic. Most of them stood and danced and sang-shouted for almost all of the concert. But do you know who really stole the show? I’ll tell you who stole the show. The back-up singers stole the show. In particular, the back-up singer dressed in a gold lame jumpsuit with rainbow colored hair extensions that were so long, Crystal Gayle would have been impressed. She looked like a super-hero and when Elvis gave her the spotlight, and she belted out her solo, that back-up singer didn’t just look like a Guardian of the Galaxy, she WAS The Galaxy. That woman could sing like no other I have heard before her!!

I think that being a back-up singer is probably the best part of any gig there is, because the pressure is off. You get to go along for the ride, wear really cool, far out clothes and make-up (very loose work attire policy), stay on stage just as long as the main act, and your primary job is to keep the audience happy, engaged and to keep their clapping in rhythm (or as close to rhythm as the audience can manage, which depends on how cool and coordinated your audience is, but every job has its drawbacks). The superstars always seem incredibly appreciative of their back-up singers and dancers, as they should be. As a back-up singer, you have a super star genius fawning all over you in gratitude, but you don’t let it go to your head.

After the show, as a back-up singer, you can remain anonymous. You have the freedom to run into Walgreens for some water or ibuprofen or go out to eat where you want to after the show and if you can “lose” the superstar who hired you, you can eat in relative, pleasant obscurity, while still charging your meal to the Super Star. You are very secure in your talents, your freedom, and realization of how much you are needed by the genius who hired you.

Yep, back-up singer is where it’s at, in this day and age. It’s like being in The Secret Service, without all of the risk. I love back-up singers. I want to be one. In my next life I will be one, in the life where I actually have some musical talent to capitalize on . . . .

Land of the Free

Happy Veterans Day!

Thank you, with deepest sincerity to all veterans and to your families, for preserving our freedom, at any cost. I am honored to send a special shout-out to my father, my father-in-law and my grandfathers (all three deceased), my sister-in-law, my uncle and my cousin for their selfless service to our country. Thank you, truly. I appreciate, respect, and praise your bravery, courage, and sacrifice, for everything that we hold dear in this country. We are blessed to have citizens that choose to do this service, as a way of life. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.