Good morning, friends. I think that I will call you “soulmates” on Sundays. Good morning, soulmates. Sundays are usually the most popular day here on the blog. I love that you all are open to poetry. I love that you have helped me to rediscover the poet in me. I hope that you have also discovered (or rediscovered) the poet, in you, as well. Sundays are devoted to the emotional, sometimes non-sensical, mysterious spillage of words called poetry. Please explore the poem which I have written for today, and please also, feel comfortable and safe to share your poems in my Comments section. It has been wonderful sharing this moment with you on this lovely, tranquil day, my beloved soulmates. I look forward to many more connecting moments with you. Peace.
Keeper of the Words
Sometimes the words spill out of me and I can’t contain them.
Depending on how forceful and projectile the emotion is behind them,
The words scramble desperately to find their way on to the screen,
quicker than I can type them into visual form.
Sometimes the words slide out of me and surprise me,
I had no inner rumination of their simmering pot in my conscience.
The words leave me, before I even knew that they were with me.
Sometimes I have no words. I have nothing to write.
Nothing. My inner cache is empty. And that is okay.
When I have nothing to write, it clears the space,
Until the words accumulate again, to fill the void,
As they always do.
The words don’t require my participation,
They only ask for the keys to release them.
When the pressure mounts and the time is ripe,
I generously allow the words to flow out.
I am not the jailer of the words,
I am only their keeper.
Jailers suffocate and diminish and intimidate,
Keepers nurture and protect and trust in growth,
And further, keepers innately know when it is time,
to let their beloved charges fly free.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
As the final part of his undergraduate study, before he starts medical school in the fall, my son is shadowing a doctor this semester. The doctor he is working for is a physiatrist. A physiatrist is a medical doctor who works on reducing a patient’s pain, and then moving the patient towards full rehabilitation, of total health and function, after a major injury or illness. A physiatrist uses all sources of tools in the medical arsenal such as medications, physical therapy and other healing modalities. My son has been learning so much from this wonderful man, and we look forward to my son’s interesting stories from his internship, every single week.
On an aside, my family loves to laugh. We crack a lot of jokes. My eldest son is very animated, expressive and self-deprecating. His imitations are hilarious. My youngest son is a natural clown and comedian. He has expressed the desire to give stand-up a go, more than once in his life. My daughter’s friends always tell her how much they love how funny she is, as anecdotes on her birthday cards and such. My middle son (the one working with the physiatrist) has a very dry sense of humor. He is more often the instigator, the one to get the more rowdy others around him going, and then sitting back, and enjoying the mayhem. So, one of my favorite things in life, is watching my middle son tell a story, without even realizing that the way he is telling the story is quite amusing, and then, everybody getting a big laugh out of the story. This roar of laughter and amusement always seems to take my middle son by surprise, realizing that his story is so enjoyable, and he gets this cute, little boy, slightly embarrassed grin on him. His big, brown eyes sparkle, and it is like seeing a glimpse of my adorable, mischievous, little three-year-old baby boy again. Our children don’t realize how many versions of them that we hold and that we safekeep in our minds, and in our hearts. They have only known us as adults, but we get to experience their blossoming and progression, from the very start.
Getting back on track to my story (please forgive my sentimental rambling): This week’s lesson from my middle son’s work with the physiatrist was “the magic wand” lesson. The patient who needed “the magic wand”, had come to the physiatrist for help. This patient was a tad “scattered.” He had many, many stories of many, many horrific accidents and harrowing incidents, from throughout his whole life. His companion was his elderly mother, who sat patiently, nodding her head beside her son, only occasionally adding, “Yep, that’s true. Umm-hmm,” to each of his accountings of all of the unimaginable incidents and ordeals in his life that had lead up to his debilitating physical pain, which seemed to be in every part of his body. In short, he was an interesting, but longwinded character, who was emanating pain, all over and needed some relief. My middle son says that the physiatrist says that these are the types of patients who you must help to focus. With these patients you must ask the question, “If I had a magic wand and could fix just one element of your pain, what would I fix?” My son said that the patient looked instantly relieved and relaxed, and pointed to one spot on his lower back.
After hearing the “magic wand” lesson, I thought to myself how helpful that question can be for any of us, at any time, and it doesn’t have to be related to physical pain. What about those days in life when you feel like you have 800 things going on at once and you don’t even know where to start? If I had a magic wand, and I could have just oneof these tasks completed, which task would it be? This magic wand question/trick immediately helps you to calm your mind, and to focus in on your highest priorities and values. What about times in your life where you feel you could use some self-improvement, with healthier habits, in order to lose weight or to have more energy? A lot of times we get so overwhelmed with everything that we think that we have to do, and change, and improve in our lives, that we tend to get frustrated, and then, we end up giving up on all of it. If I had a magic wand and I could just change just one element of my daily habits, what would that be? This question really helps to hone in on what is really the most pressing and urgent, out of all our concerns. And once we have mastered and healed the particular area of our life, and of our health, and of our daily chores and routines, that the magic wand has helped point us to, we can use the trick again, to point us towards our next priority. Perhaps, magic wands are not pretend after all. Perhaps, magic wands are really quite magical, indeed.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Good morning, friends. Friday is here! The best day of the week is here! On Fridays, I keep it light. On Fridays, I discuss stuff – products, TV shows, movies, books, songs, etc. I typically discuss three things that have made my own life’s journey, a little more interesting and fun. I strongly encourage you to add your favorites to my Comments section, so that we all have some delectable, new choices to try out this weekend. Here are my favorites for today:
Tarpon Tervis Tumbler – We all know that Tervis Tumblers are amazing quality and come in a huge variety of patterns and sizes. I purchased this Tarpon Tervis as one of my Valentine treats, for my husband. It looks like it is a baby tarpon. The “scales” on the tumbler are beautiful. This is a perfect gift for the fisher-people in your life. It is great for them to use on the days that they are fishing, and also to use on the days that they wish that they were fishing. Check out the Redfish Tumbler, as well. Both of these quality, beautiful tumblers are available on Amazon.
I Care A Lot (Netflix) – This movie is an attention-keeping (even comical, at times) thriller and refreshingly different than most movies that I have watched lately. Most of the characters in I Care A Lot are deplorable and evil, but the twists and turns in the plotline, are amazing. The main character is a complete sociopath, the kind you love to hate. Warning: Don’t turn the movie off until the very end, or you may not be able to sleep at night. (On an aside, the main character is a woman with a severely cut, perfect, razor sharp, bobbed hair style. She wears it with a perfectly symmetrical, middle part. I recently read that if you are a woman who wants to look young and hip, wear a middle part in your hair. I have never worn a middle part in my hair, in my entire life, so that is a non-starter for me, but if you can pull it off, it is something to consider.)
John Prine – I read something that said that John Prine’s music is the perfect music to play in the background when you are doing your daily chores like cooking or folding laundry. John Prine’s music is acoustic, mellow, quietly sentimental, and just plain lovely. It was a wonderful recommendation. Start with his “I Remember Everything.” (and make this weekend a memorable one!!! See you tomorrow.)
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
My daughter was traumatized yesterday afternoon. She was having an online meeting with her Future Business Leaders of America club, and the meeting was “Zoom bombed” by racists. The videos that were released into the meeting were horrific, including swastikas, guns, and images of people hanging. The teacher moderating the club meeting was powerless, as the hackers had locked out any functions that would have enabled her to close the meeting. The school is doing what it can to find the awful perpetrators. As a mom, I am doing what I can to offer open arms and listening ears, whenever my daughter needs me.
It sickens me that I have had the thought, more than once throughout this whole pandemic, that at least with having my daughter doing her schooling from home, I don’t have to worry about her being a victim of a school shooting this year. It makes me want to vomit that a school shooting is an actual, real concern of mine. This is a concern that would sadly seem reasonably plausible to most people, and a concern which many parents share in.
When I kissed my daughter goodnight last night, I reminded her to wake me up at any time, if she couldn’t fall asleep, or if she had nightmares. I told her that if her thoughts went to the disturbing images that were thrust upon her, she should try to change her thoughts to people and to things that she is grateful for in her life. In this way, she could transmute her thoughts away from evil, and into the light of love and good and joy. All three of her protective big brothers (and of course the strong arms of her father) reached out to her throughout the afternoon and the evening. There is no doubt in my mind, that despite being viscerally violated, my daughter ended the day knowing how completely loved she is by her family. She was able to sleep through the night.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I saw this post on Twitter yesterday and it made me proud to be a Gen X, 80s kid!! Our rappers are brilliant. They paved the way. What I like about 1980s rap is that a lot of it, is fun and goofy and upbeat. Don’t ever believe that there isn’t brilliance underneath lighthearted jams. It’s Hammer Time!! You can’t touch this!!
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I did something last night which I haven’t done in a long, long time. I stayed up late into the wee, wee hours of the night reading a work of fiction, from its very beginning, to its last beautiful page. I loved the book. It resonated deeply with me. This book is worth my exhaustion this morning. I am not going to tell you the title of the book. It feels too personal. It feels too revealing to just put it out there, to people who I don’t know very well. To tell you about a book that struck me this personally, would be like cruelly and neglectfully, putting my own very, sometimes fragile heart out on to the internet, to be shredded casually by the sharks that swim around us, sometimes.
My beloved and deeply appreciated readers, I tell you a lot about me, and everything that I share with you is true, but I don’t share everything. I’m not sure that I ever will. I did share some quotes from the book that I read last night, with my husband, and with my anam cara (Gaelic for soul friends). They get it. They get me. Treasure those people in your lives who really “get you”, all of you, and love you, and accept you, and understand you, and “see” you, and only want your happiness, for you. These people are incredible gifts. They are those “believing mirrors”, like Julia Cameron writes about. Your anam cara are the safes, and the strongboxes for your heart, and for your whole being. When you cultivate your anam cara in your life, never let them go. Love them deeply. And most importantly, make sure that you are one of them. Be a soul friend for your anam cara, and also be a soul friend, for yourself.
I believe that the mark of an excellent book is one that makes you feel like it has pages written about your own life, as viewed from the inside of your own head, and from the inside of your own heart wells. It feels intensely personal and echoing and vulnerable, to read a book whose words you feel deeply, and whose words keep reverberating in your mind, long after you are done reading. Treasure those kinds of books. They are rare. Like your anam cara, these books are incredible gifts in your life, too.
“Good writing is supposed to evoke sensation in the reader. Not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” – E.L. Doctorow
My friend shared a parable yesterday, about a little boy who broke one of those Dollar Store glow sticks, in order for the light of it, to comfort his upset little sister. The moral of the story was that the glow sticks only glow brightly, when they are broken. Don’t be afraid of your broken parts, friends. As we all know, it is often the broken parts of us and of others, that glow the brightest and the truest and the clearest. Our broken parts often become like the glow of the lighthouses, which act as beacons to save others from crashing into the jagged rocks and drowning. And helping to save others, helps us to save ourselves, too. That’s how Love works. Love turns our pain, back into Love, which helps each other to survive, and to thrive, and to walk this path together peacefully.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Once, at a Christmas party, a friend of ours from Texas, commented on a huge, sparkly costume ring which I was wearing for the occasion. “Where I come from, those are called Knock Blocker rings. You can knock someone’s block off with that ring!”
Recently I purchased a couple of fun, huge, sparkly, costume rings that were on sale, at a local retail store. I completely fell for the intense colors of the center stones. One stone was a deep, grass green, and the other was an intense aqua blue. Imagine my surprise, when I got my new rings home, and I took them out the box, only to see that each center stone of both rings, now looked more of a dull, bland, brownish purple. On closer inspection of the tags, hanging on the rings, I read “color changing CZ”. When I was a child, my mother had a beautiful Alexandrite ring, that my father had brought home for her, from his military days in Turkey. I remember that ring having these types of color changing properties, as well. (Unfortunately that ring, and many other beautiful pieces of jewelry were stolen in a house robbery, when I was a child, but that story is for a different blog post, on some other day.) Sadly, my new Knock Blockers will only show their prettiest shades of green and aqua, when they are under fluorescent light. So, when I go out to my garage, my rings will look pretty again. I plan to keep these rings for their novelty, but they won’t ever become “every day pieces.”
My new rings’ color changing properties remind me of an important life lesson. I once heard the phrase “Jekyll and Hyde are the same person,” and it is one phrase that has deeply stuck in my conscience, since I heard it. We all have color changing properties. We all have the ugly, dull, brownish-violet, bruise-ish colors in us, that we try to hide from the rest of the world. All of our “true colors” run the spectrum. Still, in mostly healthy people, the most vivid, beautiful, clear colors are the prominent colors that run their lives. The ugly colors only rear their heads every once in a while, and when a healthy person notices that in themselves, they do their best to transmute and heal back to a clear shine. Healthy people integrate all of their colors, accepting that the less attractive colors are part of what makes them human and whole. Healthy people don’t have as intense color changing properties, because they are accepting of their negative thoughts and emotions. They compassionately work through their “stuff” for the betterment of themselves, and for their relationships with others. Healthy people are not fragmented people. Healthy people appear mostly the same, under any light and most circumstances.
On the other hand, unhealthy people have a tendency to shine their brightest, most fabulous colors, in the beginning of any relationship which they have with others. In fact, unhealthy people’s best colors are often many times brighter, and way more intense than anybody else’s colors, when initially getting to know them. This makes them extremely interesting and attractive and unique. However, when not in their “best light” or when not in “the spotlight”, unhealthy people can be like my new rings, reverting back to their darker, duller sides, most of the time. The rub is, we get so attracted to the few times that the unhealthy people shine brighter than anybody else, that we are willing to wait around, and put up with a lot of ugliness, in hopes for glimpses of the great beauty which we know is hidden in the depths of an unhealthy person. We know this fact about their potential beauty, better than they do, but the sad fact is, that they have to be the ones to see this fact and to accept this fact about what we already know about them. The unhealthy people have to come to the understanding, on their own, that their real, stable beauty comes from integrating all of their facets and colors, into a steadiness, instead of being at war with their divided selves. And the healthy people, have to protect their own light, by understanding that the best way to help the color changers, is to show them that integration can be done, by leading full and robust and authentic lives, with compassion and love for all, including themselves.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Hello readers! I hope that you are having a lovely weekend, full of delightful surprises and calming rejuvenation and rest. Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. On Sundays I either write a poem or I share a poem, written by another poet, that has moved me. Poetry has the ability to hit the deepest target of emotion, in the most mysterious of ways. Poetry adds magic and alchemy, to otherwise, ordinary words. Please feel safe and comfortable to share your poems in my Comments section. Here is my poem for today:
WITH ME
I am so thankful when you share the deepest part of yourself
with me.
You think that it is too ugly, and tangled, and unguarded, and scary,
to bring it out into the open.
But usually, most ferocious things, tend to get blinded by the light.
And smoldering sadness gets smothered by the love that my heart holds for you.
I love you the most, when you give to me, all of you,
not just the polished, protective surface.
Your deepest part of yourself, is safe, and cherished, and understood, and loved.
I am so thankful when you entrust the deepest part of yourself,
with me.
Your beautiful, fragile, open heart is always safe,
I am in the middle of reading The Listening Path. Julia Cameron, the author of TheArtist’s Way, reiterates her insistence, in her latest book, that the quickest path to yourself, and to your creativity, is in writing “Morning Pages.” Writing Morning Pages is the practice of writing three pages, in your own handwriting, a stream of consciousness, before you even get out of bed, every single morning. I think that I tried this once, decades ago, and I only lasted a few days. Back then I had a house full of young children, who all had the uncanny ability to hear the hinges of my eyelids open, every morning, and to bound into my room, ready to start their/our day. I have restarted the process of writing Morning Pages. I have three days in, so far, and I am hoping to make it last. Cameron calls writing the Morning Pages part of your “Believing Mirrors” because they can get you in touch with your deepest dreams, and they can help you to believe that you can attain these dreams. She says that writing the Morning Pages (which are for your eyes only) helps to heighten your intuition, and writing them helps you to hone in your attention, as to what really matters to you.
“Morning Pages are simple but dramatic. They turn us into who we want to be. What could be better than that?” – Julia Cameron
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Happy Friday, my dear friends and readers. It’s here. The best day of the week is here!! My regular readers know that Fridays are devoted to my favorite things, songs, books, beauty products, pet products, etc. I call Fridays, “Favorite ThingsFriday” and I typically list three favorites, here on the blog. And as always, I encourage you to share your favorites, in my Comments section. Friends, I have been doing this for a while now. This quest to find three new favorites a week, is no easy task (and I am relatively easy to please). This pandemic has made shopping more of a “get in/get out quick” kind of an adventure. So last night, during our weekly Facetime catch-up call with our sons, I asked them to help me out with some favorites, for today’s blog. I asked each of my three sons, what would their favorite thing be, that they use on a daily basis. (I’m going to paraphrase what they said. I didn’t record the conversation.) Here is the gist of what they said:
Eldest Son (almost 25-years-old business professional, who lives in his own apartment, in a different state) – “Okay, this is kind of embarrassing and cringe-y, but I LOVE my Instapot. In fact, I love Instapots so much that I have three of them! (He then zooms his camera over to the kitchen, on to his collection of Instapots, which looks like a counter at a church potluck dinner. He does love to eat.) “It is fantastic to wake up in the morning, to piping hot oats and they are done in less than four minutes!!”
Middle Son (22-years-old, college senior, soon to embark on medical school in the fall, lives in a fraternity house) – “Hands down, my Leatherman Multitool. People ask to borrow it, Every. Single. Day. I have to track it down.” (he’s a gadget-y kind of a guy) “Well, what kind of tools are on it?” “Everything, Mom, everything. . . . . pliers, knife, screwdriver, bottle opener. (I imagine that this particular multitool has been like a butler, helping to create and to serve at, many a party and game day celebration, but I like to keep these things in my imagination, where things are still a little nice and tame.)
Youngest Son (20-years-old, college sophomore, business major, sitting on the couch next to his brother, in their shared fraternity house, with rainbow colored lights flashing on their faces and posters that we choose not to Zoom in on, in the background; my youngest son is somewhat of a gym rat) – “My Nutribullet and then my Blender Bottle.” “What’s so great about Blender Bottles?” (My husband then reminds me that these are the bottles with lids and with those little round springs that look like cat toys) “They look cool,” my son answered, obviously not too enthralled with this line of questioning. (He’s not a marketing major)
What are your family’s favorites? Please share, so that we all have good gift ideas when birthdays and other holidays roll around. Have a great weekend, friends! See you tomorrow and beyond!!!!
Are you passing on love, or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
