“Be the change you want to find in the cupholder.” – Ozzy (Twitter)
I read recently that it’s fun to leave a dollar on a grocery shelf or in a library book, every once in a while. Whoever finds it will feel lucky, and you can reflect on your anonymous good deed and get a smile out of it, any time you think of it. I recently left a dollar on the jello shelf in my local grocery store. I’m not sure that was the best, thought-out placement for the dollar bill. I don’t know how many people make and eat jello anymore. Maybe the dusty dollar bill is still sitting there, waiting for someone to find it. I hope that whoever finds it, sees it as a sign which they have been waiting for, a sign that means something like, “Things are looking up. Everything is going to be okay. Now go make yourself a nice jello salad.”
“I’m sensitive, not soft. I’ll slap you while I’m crying.” – Madison Ice (Twitter)
I really like this tweet. I think that many sensitive, empathic people are much stronger than anyone ever gives them credit for being. Imagine feeling every sensation and emotion that occurs in life, ten times harder than the average Joe. Imagine noticing every slight nuance and change of energy in every room and every circumstance, like being a human hair trigger. It’s a lot. Sensitive people are actually probably stronger than most people. Remember a silken, spider web is one of the strongest elements on earth. It make look fragile, but it is as strong or stronger than steel. (The tensile strength of steel ranges from 0.2 GPa to 2 GPa, while the tensile strength of some spider silks is about 1 GPa. – reconnectwithnature.org) The next time you are tempted to tell someone whom you perceive to be a sensitive person to “toughen up”, check yourself. “For a highly sensitive person, a drizzle feels like a monsoon.”(anonymous) Sensitive people have survived many, many monsoons in their lives. Have you?
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Good morning, friends. Welcome to the most lovely, tranquil, peaceful day of the week – a day to just breathe and let go. On Sundays, I devote this blog to poetry. I either write a poem or I share a poem written by another writer. Today’s poem on the blog, is written by an extremely talented, inspiring person named Nightbirde. Nightbirde is a singer who despite getting a “golden buzzer” (from the finicky Simon Cowell, no less), had to drop out of the America’s Got Talent competition due to her battle with cancer. She recently posted the poem that she wrote (seen below) on her Instagram account. The poem is admittedly sad, yet achingly beautiful. Despite writing the poem, Nightbirde also posted a pretty picture of herself, and assured her fans this: “Not gonna die. Don’t worry. . . . . I know I posted kinda of like a little bit of a sad poem about dying, however, Im not dying, I’m doing great, I’m inching forward slowly.”
That’s all that is needed from any of us in our lives: “inching forward slowly“. It doesn’t matter how fast you are going, just keep up the forward motion. It’s not a race, it’s an adventure. Stay aware. Nightbirde also had this to say:
“What a miracle that the pain I’ve walked through can be reworked into beauty that makes people all over the world open their eyes wider.”
That is what I mean by my daily tagline: Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love. Don’t let the pain which you experience, go to waste, nor add to a bigger pile of stinkin’ pain, lying around this earth. We all have pain in our lives. That’s just part of being human. But our pain can be turned to good, in the forms of compassion, empathy, perspective, hope, inspiration, which all come together to form the highest vibration of Love.
Here is Nightbirde’s poem:
A Hero In Flames
I want to die while my heart is still a greenhouse for hope All my wild dreams as seedlings in egg cartons Reaching toward the window
I cannot die yellow and hungry I will not die in sterile air
But I would like to die While the fireflies are still glowing Morse coding their poetry for a cynical earth
I would like to die like Joan of Arc With dignity and urgency and stubbornness A watercolor portrait in the night A sight to behold, a hero in flames
My friend mentioned the “hierarchy of pain” the other day. For instance, if you have a major toothache, your chronic sciatica all of the sudden goes into the background. I think this is true of crises, too. Everything that seemed of utmost importance to me about a month ago, are all things that are easily now on the backburner, as we work to get my son settled on some epilepsy medicines that will keep his seizures at bay. When you are in the middle of focusing on an acute crisis, you realize that all of the stuff that you usually gripe over, really doesn’t matter. Nothing is nearly as important as your health and your sanity, and the health and sanity of those whom you love. Everything else is just a plus, but not a must. When things in life are relatively copacetic, that’s when our pesky human nature starts to look for little issues and gripes and annoyances and dramas to stir us up. But when real emergencies are happening, that’s when we realize just how much we complain and worry about so many meaningless trivialities in our lives. Every experience in life, even our worst experiences, have their hidden gifts. The worst experiences force perspective like no other experience can do for us.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Geesh, it seems like it has been a long time since I have gotten the time, mojo, and peace to write one of my normal Favorite Things Friday posts. It feels good to be here, in a normal place, mentally and emotionally and physically, at least for this moment. Whoop! Whoop! Whoop! On Fridays, I try to keep things on the light side. On Fridays, I list three favorite things, or websites, or books, or songs, or foodstuff, etc. that make my heart sing. Here are my favorites for today:
Husbands – Yes, my husband is one of my favorites, for sure. In fact, he is my all-around favorite everything, but the thing is, recently I got a new husband. He holds me, he’s comfy, and he’s covered in a divine, soft, furry leopard print material. I bought myself a husband pillow for the first time since college (where I also found the original human husband 😉 ), and I am really enjoying my husband. If you are like me, and you love to read and/or scroll on your phone in bed, get yourself a husband pillow. They are divine!
Keva Style bracelets – I love these jazzy leather band bracelets. They add a bit of funkiness to any outfit and Keva has so many designs to choose from. I bought a big wide, chunky, off-white bracelet from them, and I feel so chic/hipster when I wear it. Keva also sells leather earrings and watch bands for your Apple watches. Check them out here and get yourself a little treat for some weekend pizazz: kevastyle.com
Spartina Bitty Beads Earrings – Any time that I wear these earrings, I get compliments. They are dangling earrings, that look like beaded shades, or perhaps like tapestries. The earrings are eye-catching, yet tasteful all at the same time. And Spartina makes quality, long lasting items, so I suspect that I will be wearing my Bitty Beads for years to come. Find some that speak to you, and let the compliments come rolling in.
Thanks for stopping by today. As my regular readers know, my family is going through a tough chapter involving my son’s epilepsy. Thank you for your love and for your prayers. I feel them. I am so grateful for you, and for your support. To be honest, I find my inner judge coming out a lot these days. She masquerades as “people”. She says things like this to me: “People will think you shouldn’t write frivolity in times like these.” “People are tired of your sad posts. Write something happy.” “People will think you are so self-absorbed and sitting in your victim chair.” My inner judge never likes to own her own “stuff”. She pushes her own harsh criticisms on to “people.” Honestly though, in my experience, people are mostly good. People are mostly kind. People just want the best for all of us. The people who read my blog, are my kind of people. I think that I’ll try to ignore my own inner disparager this weekend, and I’ll rest in the comfort of my real “people” who love me, and support me and my family. Thank you for being some of these “people” in my life. I love you people very much.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Turning 50 brings unexpected gifts. Yesterday, I happily received my first shingles vaccine. Having had family members and friends who have gotten the actual shingles virus, and told me (and texted terrifying pictures) of the horrors of the ordeal that still end up in my nightmares (my uncle, a military veteran, who had gone through more health treatments than almost anyone I know, once emphasized to me, that shingles was by far, the worst experience of his life), I had no hesitancy about pulling up my sleeve for this one. I was one of those sheltered, late bloomers who didn’t get the chickenpox until I was in my early twenties. It was a beyond miserable trauma, and plenty enough for a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Since shingles is related to the chickenpox, I’m not taking any chances. When I was 48, I once went into a Walgreens and begged for the vaccine. (I even considered getting a fake ID – ha!) They turned me away. I had to be the magic age of 50.
I like that when you turn 50, you all of the sudden qualify for extra health treatments, like shingles vaccines and colonoscopies. These aren’t spa experiences, of course, but they are a measure of prevention. Telling me to get these procedures done, says to me, “Hey lady, you may becoming a little high-mileage, but you’re a classic. You are worth maintaining. We want you for the long haul.”
So, truthfully my arm hurts a lot, I’m a little achy all over, and I didn’t sleep very well last night, but it was worth it. I feel valued – by myself, and by my community. Sometimes, tender, loving care comes in all sorts of strange forms, but care is care. And care feels good.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
It’s interesting to me, when you are going through one of your darker periods in life, how much you cling to your mundane chores. Your to-do list becomes your savior. Doing laundry becomes your lifeline. Waiting in queue on a customer service call with bad elevator music, can actually be peaceful and lulling. Doing anything is good. Idle time is scary as hell.
Yesterday, getting groceries was cathartic. A month ago, getting groceries was just another one of the routine banalities of my life. I also look at people differently. I understand that there could be a lot of pain underneath the clerk’s pleasantries. I understand that someone’s grumpiness could be caused by medications that otherwise save that person’s life. One of the rare blessings of suffering, is a true, pure empathy for the human condition. I even empathize with people who numb out, and try not to feel anything, ever. Empathy is a heavy, overwhelming load to bear sometimes.
Fear and sadness sucks the energy right out of you. Taking a shower sometimes takes monumental courage and momentum. And then all the “shoulds” start crawling around in your brain: “You should take care of yourself, so that you can take care of your loved ones.” “You should remember that your family and friends deserve attention for the good and bad things going on in their lives, too.” “You should live in faith, and not fear.” “You should divide your attention and focus equally among your four children, not just your child with epilepsy.” “You shouldn’t feel sorry for yourself. Count your blessings.” “You should stop hovering over your man-child with epilepsy, and help him live as normal a life as possible.” “You should keep the romance alive in your marriage, or you’ll lose even more.” “You should keep writing your blog, or maybe you shouldn’t.” “You should find the cure for all that ails your family, and maybe even heal the entire world, while you are at it.” My “Shoulder” in my brain is a total bitch and a strict task-masker. My Shoulder loves to generate anxiety. My Shoulder loves to control me with shame. My Shoulder tells me that I’ll never be enough. Someone very wise once told me to never, ever shouldon myself. I wish that I could stop my evil Shoulder. I should do a better job with that. Isn’t it ironic that a “shoulder” is something that we are supposed to be able to lean on in tough times?
Recently, I found a prayer in an old wallet of mine that has been one of my favorite prayers for a long, long time. It’s actually the 3rd Step prayer from the 12-Step programs. I have been praying it a lot lately. Not because I should, but because I can, and because it feels good. This prayer resonates with me. Maybe it will help you, too.
“God, I offer myself to Thee – to build with me and do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will. Take away my difficulties, thatvictory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of Life. May I do Thy will always. Amen.”
Friends, I pray to bear witness of my victory over my difficulties, to anyone whom it will help. I do this, quite honestly, because I desperately want victory over my difficulties, but also, I truly like to help people. It feels good. I think that this is what we are meant to do for each other. Please know that despite being in a trough period, I love life. I see beauty all around me, all of the time, to the point that sometimes it even overwhelms me. Love is the miracle, and it never leaves us. Love can never be destroyed. Love sustains all.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I think that there is no other time of year than around Halloween, that you see everyone’s creativity come out more vividly than ever. Fall is certainly a colorful time of year, isn’t it? I love it! Here’s hoping for a fun and wonderful and easy-going week for all of us!
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
As you may have guessed, the complications with our youngest son’s epilepsy continues. We spent the last three days at the hospital, thus I have not been writing my daily blog. We are all okay. Our son is back home with us now. (just where a college junior wants to be – back home with Mom and Dad – ha!) This frustrating and mysterious experience of finding just the right drug for stopping epileptic seizures is really beyond a tricky thing. What works for one person, destroys another person. What once worked for years for a person with epilepsy, all of the sudden stops working, with no sensible explanation nor apology.
Thank you for your love and for your prayers. I feel them. I was praying and I was sobbing in the hospital chapel this morning, and then all of the sudden I was washed over with the most calming, beautiful sense of peace. This feeling was lovely and comforting and overwhelmingly awesome, all at the same time. I felt everyone’s presence besides my own, alone in the quiet, solemn chapel. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. As you can imagine, I have prayed since the day that my son was diagnosed with epilepsy, for this disorder in him, to be healed forevermore. I have tried bargaining with God. I have tried doing good and charitable deeds to be “worthy” of his healing, despite my strong belief in God’s non-judgmental grace. Honestly, I have tried Jedi mind tricks. I am embarrassed by some of the avenues which I have desperately explored, to make this nightmare go away for my son, and for our family. My angel box is filled with little pieces of paper with the same prayer, “Please heal my baby.” Some of these papers are now aged and faded. I have been praying for this miracle, for seven years, since we first got my son’s epilepsy diagnosis. Still, for reasons that I don’t comprehend, my son’s stubborn affliction remains. But yet, at the same time, I remind myself that I have never really questioned why I have been remarkably blessed in so many other aspects of my life. I never question why my family has excellent health coverage which pays for emergency drugs that halts our son’s seizures while they are happening. Many people with epilepsy do not have access to these cutting edge drugs and providers. Without insurance, these drugs cost $1300 per single use. I know how privileged I am. When your heart is exposed to such worry and anxiety and fears about your own child’s well-being, you can’t help but realize how many other parents are going through their own personal agony, dealing with their own children’s afflictions, and on top of all of this pain and fear, they have money worries, and lack of resources to provide their children with the best care available. Many people are experiencing this heartache alone. I have a loving husband whose strong arms I rest in, every night, who shares my pain and yet comforts me with his deep, knowing stares. I have family and friends who support us, and lift us up, with their love and their concern. When my heart bleeds for my son and our family, the bleeding continues to pour out, for all of us parents who are hurting for our children, who sadly, we do not have the power to heal by ourselves. That’s not how mothering (parenting) is supposed to work. I am supposed to be able to kiss every boo-boo away, with a sense of power and ease and nonchalance. I hate every single one of our hospital stays, because every door that I pass as I walk on to our room, holds a room full of pain and fear and yet also a desperate hope, for a family that feels helpless, fearful, dejected and pained. I know their pain intimately, and I wish that I could stop it for every one of us. I wish that I could stop the bleed for all of us, but my heart’s tourniquet is overwhelmed.
Trying to catch my breath and to restore my sense of sanity, I was walking on the medical campus of the renowned hospital where I spent my time this weekend, and there, I spied an incredibly beautiful, old, and glorious tree, reaching out and shading the playground provided for hospitalized children – those young ones, who are still well enough to still go outside and play. I looked at her – the wise and stable tree. I touched her beautiful, cragged bark, knowing that I was touching a vital and living being, older and wiser, than I will ever be. I thought to myself, “There is a poem growing here, perfect for a Soul Sunday on the blog.” And I started to search my mind for the poem. And then I suddenly realized that I didn’t need words for the poem. The splendid, formidable, rooted tree was the poem, just in her being. Her fortitude and her vitality shades and protects her precious fragile charges. She does what she can do, and she takes her job seriously. She stays rooted and strong, and she continues to grow, in order to provide for her charges, with what she has to give. She does what she can, and knows that this enough. Other forces, higher than her tallest, reaching branches, will take care of the rest of what needs to be done. And in the meantime, the tree just does what she can, providing some oxygen to breathe, and some shade and some protection, for those who seek comfort under her solid canopy of restless leaves.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
