As I collie lover, I couldn’t resist this one. Collies are actually patient and trusting enough to put up with this silliness. I don’t know much about cows, but they probably are, too. Animals are wonderful.
Happy Hanukkah to my Jewish readers! May it be a wonderful, meaningful experience for you.
The other day, the six of us in our family, were sitting at a picnic table eating a picnic brunch. A little boy was at a nearby table, sitting with his own family, who were much more dignified, quiet and subdued than our family. (Our family has a tendency to lean towards loud and rambunctious.)
“You’re loud and full of nonsense!” the little boy announced to us. We all laughed heartily at the comment, and so he repeated it several times over. I wanted to adopt him. He clearly fit right in with us.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poems have no rules, other than to feel the words as you write them. Write yourself a poem today. It may be a beautiful present to give to yourself, during this season of giving. Here is my poem that I wrote just now:
The song of the house has been quiet lately.
Soft, rhythmic, even, lulling and serene.
Everyone just came home for the holidays.
The song of the house has been changed.
Loud, disruptive, uneven, jarring and exciting.
These songs are the soundtrack of my life.
I love how it all comes together to be,
the most beautiful music I have ever heard,
the most beautiful music that I dance to,
the loveliest background rhythms of life being lived.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Last night, our middle son showed us something on the internet called “ChatGPT”. It’s an artificial intelligence that appears to make Siri seem like an inexperienced child and apparently, ChatGPT is only in its own infant/rudimentary stages. To show us an example, our son asked ChatGPT to write a poem about a lonely turtle. In less than a minute or two, the ChatGPT wrote a four stanza poem that rhymed perfectly and was quite clever and added a lot of details about a forlorn little turtle. Our own kids, who are still college students, admitted that some kids use this tool occasionally to write their required essays. I like to believe that those “some kids” are not mine.
As a writer, I find this new technology heartbreaking. I’ve often curiously questioned technological advances in the past, and their moral implications, but this is the first time something that I am fully passionate about, is being touched by and taken over by automation. Will the kind of writing that I like to do, become some quaint relic from the past? Will we grow to assume that everything that we read in newspapers, magazines, on the internet, and even in books has been written by some algorithm/artificial intelligence? Will anything be original and human anymore, or will everything that we do be handled and created by robots?
My son reminded me that artificial intelligence only works with what we “feed” into it. He said that he could ask ChatGPT to write a poem about a lonely turtle with more of a Shakespearean feel to it, and he reminded me that AI could only do that because Shakespeare existed first.
I fear sometimes our need for perfection. I fear that we worship at the holy grail of getting everything done quickly, easily, and flawlessly. We disdain the imperfections which we find on our faces, so we have filters for that. A machine can do surgeries precisely. Who needs a human touch? Are those science fiction shows about babies being birthed into labs in order to mine them for replacement organs going to really come to fruition?
Sometimes when I write, I think to myself, why do I do this? Everything that I write about has already been written about, by other people, at least 100 times over. But then I remember reading an article by Anna Quindlen, a great writer and teacher, who told her students that we all can write about the same thing, but nobody brings the same “voice or soul” to any one topic. Like fingerprints, each writer has their own intrinsic voice. I believe that this individual voice from each creator/artist/writer is connected to our deepest souls, and that’s something that machines don’t have – they don’t have feelings or passion or a true connection to Creative Intelligence, which is the true source to all things alive and wonderful. Machines don’t have souls. In my mind, Creative Intelligence dwarfs Artificial Intelligence any day. The most beautiful creations in the world, whether they be natural, or manmade, are beautiful because they were created out of passion and longing and feeling and desire. Feelings are messy. They are not perfect. Feelings are jarring, and fleeting, and overpowering, and intense. Feelings are not analytical and systematic and perfect and predictable. Feelings are human. Feelings come from our souls. The best creations in the world come from harnessing the chaos of the fervor and the zeal of our feelings and of our intuitions and of our passions. Intelligence without feeling is aptly named “artificial.” Creative intelligence is as real as it gets. We humans are the channels for Creative Intelligence. I hope and pray that this never changes.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Hi readers and friends. We have a lot going on in our family right now. After a long, protracted, difficult decline, my mother-in-law passed on yesterday. That’s our sad, bad, terrible news. Our happy news is that today is my birthday, and I am receiving the best birthday present that I could possibly ask for at this time. Our youngest son is graduating from college today, a semester early. My longtime friends and readers know that we went through pure hell in the fall of 2021, as our son’s epileptic seizures were not being controlled by medication. He was suffering at least one major seizure a week, for several weeks in a row. We spent a lot of time in hospitals, and we had a lot of teary, distraught conversations about what to do next. Our youngest son talked about dropping out of college more than once. But, he persisted. We persisted. His wonderful doctor persisted. And we found a combination of three medications which have kept our son seizure-free for over a year now. (Do you remember that part yesterday when I wrote about the clouds always, always passing? . . . . they do. They do. The clouds ALWAYS pass.) And today, our youngest son becomes a college graduate! And I am so utterly grateful for this turn of events. God/Life/Universe: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Family/Friends/Readers, for your kindness and support and prayers and love: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Please bear with me these next few weeks. Writing is therapeutic for me, and I fully expect to continue to write my daily blog. I’ve written on the daily for years now, in my normal times, and in my not so normal times. I have written this daily blog from different states, and even being in different countries. I have definitely written this blog in so, so many, many different states of mind (which you probably can tell). The bottom line is, I love to write, and I love the connection that I have with all of you, my beloved readers. And I am a big one for consistency, reliability, dependability, devotion etc. Still, I’ve got a lot going on. Things are pretty bittersweet here with my family. I may not be as consistent or as “level” as I would like to be in the next few weeks going forward, so please just bear with me. I always bounce back. And I need you.
Okay, I know. This is a lot for a Friday post. I have readers who tell me that they only check in on the blog on Fridays, to read about my “favorite stuff.” They don’t want to go all deep and philosophical and that’s okay by me. Believe me, I get it. I love my stuff. Stuff is the stuff of life. Today, I will still share a favorite with you. My favorite for today is a chain called StretchLab and I adore this place. It’s like doing yoga that’s carefully assisted. It’s like a combination of yoga and a massage. You don’t have to get undressed, and you feel so damn good throughout the whole experience. (Come on baby, make it hurt so good!) If you have sore spots on your body (who doesn’t?), this is the place for you to go to experience some real relief and to get reacquainted with your physical body.
Okay, all. I love you. Happy Friday! Happy Birthday to me! I hope to “see” you tomorrow.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back. – Albert Camus
Like so many others, I was deeply disheartened yesterday to read about the death of Stephen Boss, aka tWitch, the brilliant dancer and television personality. He died by suicide, leaving behind a loving wife and three beautiful children. In the last year or so, our own extended family has lost two loved ones to suicide. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t been affected by the suicide of someone. Suicide is more common than we want to believe.
Depression doesn’t discriminate and it takes an incredibly dark depression for someone to start dancing with the ideation of suicide. Yet, people can be clever in hiding their depression. Stephen Boss was living a supposed “dream life.” Appearances can be deceiving.
I’ve always hated the focus on “appearances.” How do things look? What will people think? Yet I am as guilty of this as anyone else. The other day, I found myself thinking, “Thank goodness that the outside of the house is decorated for Christmas. No one will know that we don’t even have our tree up yet.” Blech. Who cares? The thought is, “As long as the outside looks good, nobody will know the turmoil that goes on in the inside.” We spend way too much time, and energy on the outsides/appearances of ourselves and others, instead of loving, and healing and focusing on the insides of ourselves, and connecting to the deepest, most authentic essence of others.
How do we prevent more suicides? It is such a deep and troubling question. There may not be an easy answer, but we can always be kind. We can always be observant. We can remind ourselves, and we can remind others that the clouds always, always pass. Our true selves, our essence, our souls are NOT our thoughts. Our true selves can observe our thoughts, just like we can observe physical sensations happening in our bodies. We can notice that our thoughts always pass on, like clouds in the sky. Our true essence is the vast, peaceful, still, timeless blue sky and the clouds (thoughts, happenings, feelings) always pass on through. The key is to hold on to the vision of being the still, serene, blue sky of awareness that is the truest, realest part of each of us – the unchanging part of each of us that connects us all.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
The mind craves information, which is interesting. The soul craves inspiration, which is crucial. ~ Alan Cohen
I don’t plan on tying in the quote above to my writing today. I just happened to read the Alan Cohen quote this morning and I thought that it was so spot on, I had to share it. I look at my blog as a museum or a treasure chest of thoughts and ideas that I can come back to any time that I want to, or need to, and I hope that you see it as the same thing ~ a repository of ideas.
In other news, a few minutes ago, I got into a war of wills with our Boykin spaniel, Trip. I felt his soft fur at my feet as I was writing, and I heard the rustling in the garbage can, but by the time that I put 2+2 together (I’m slow in the morning time), Trip had disappeared with paper in his mouth. Trip and our collie, Josie are paper hounds. They love to chew paper. And then inevitably they end up throwing up said paper, somewhere around the house, hours later, usually in more than one “crime scene”. So, I frantically started yelling to Trip, “Leave it. Drop it!”
And in his mind, I think that he was saying to me, “Ha! Dream it.”
And then things got even better for Trip because I got easily baited into a game of chase, running around the couch (which by the way, they say is an excellent thing to do if you are ever being chased by an assailant. It is much harder to catch anyone when they are running around something, such as a parked car, than just running away.) And I know this tip. And I understand why it would be true. And yet, I still got baited into hopelessly chasing Trip around the couch, yelling, while our other dogs bounced and barked at all of the exciting revelry.
Now, two of our adult children are already home for the holidays, and I didn’t want to wake them, and I still didn’t want to clean up dog vomit later, so I knew that I had come up with another plan. As it is said, “What is the definition of insanity? Doing the same thing, again and again, and expecting different results.”
So, I went to the savory dog treat jar and I cleverly called to my pack, “Anyone want a treat?” Ralphie, the ever-hungry, always on a diet, labrador was already there, sitting with his mouth watering, and Josie was close behind. Trip stood in the entrance of the kitchen, paper in mouth, obviously carefully considering the situation. Reluctantly, he dropped the paper in his mouth. Treats inevitably taste better than wood pulp. (although probably not much better, although I have never tried them.)
Now, some would say that you should never reward a dog for being a d^%&**& (you fill in the blanks, there are a lot of words that start with the letter “D” that could work here, if you use your imagination). Trip did not listen to my command, why should he be rewarded? I think that the real treat was that I craftily outsmarted the little fellow. (Yes, I wrote that line with a smug, self-impressed expression on my face.)
And yet, if I am honest with myself, Trippy might be getting the last laugh here. I have written an entire blog post about him. And he upgraded from paper to dog treat, all the while misbehaving and causing a ruckus. (Yes, as I write this line, I peer down at my little brown spaniel at my feet, and he has quite the smug, self-impressed expression on his own cute, little face. D^&%$&!)
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I always tend to get a little frustrated at this time of year. This time of year is also around my birthday, and so my juices really get flowing, thinking about what I want in the new year. I get excited about the little tweaks that I want to make in myself and in my habits, and I get electrified about the adventures that I want to plan, and to go on. I get revved up like a racehorse, chomping at the bit, in a starting gate. I want to “Go!” And sometimes the holidays feel like an annoying distraction. Sometimes the holidays feel like this inching along, tedious, busy work detour to go through, before I get to the place where the starting gate is able to be open once again. And as I write this, I realize that this is a terrible attitude.
You have to get to the finish line before you start the next race. And you have to take a slower paced victory lap, in order to build your stamina, and to catch your breath before you are ready to start a new race. You have to process what you did right in your last run, and where there is room for improvement. You must take the time to rest, and to celebrate your growth and the experience which you gained, and to integrate these aspects of wisdom into yourself, before you start galloping off again. A deliberate slowdown is important, and this celebratory, introspective time is not meant to be rushed through. The holidays are the time to cool off, to stand still, and revel in the adornment of the “Garland of Roses”, celebrating another year lived in your own precious life. To run races, one right after another, again and again, is just not sustainable. So, in short, whoa Nelly! (Or in my case, whoa Kelly!) The new race is right around the corner. Take a breath. Rest, reflection, and revelry is every bit as important as racing onward.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Our eldest son came home for the holidays yesterday. If our son didn’t realize how excited his mom and dad were for him to be here, our dogs made sure to show him. To be as uninhibited as a happy dog, should be on all of our holiday wish lists this year.
Speaking of dogs, I had sort of a mystical experience this weekend, when I opened up a box of a Christmas wreath which we never put up, but we keep in our attic year after year. In the box, was only the wreath and a small, white satin pouch. I opened the pouch and I found an ornament with a picture of Lacey, my first collie and the dog who transformed me and loved me like no other dog in my life. I do not recall ever buying, or seeing this ornament. It touched my heart deeply and I felt connected to the spirit of Lacey and all the love she gave to me and our family. This ornament will be the centerpiece of this year’s tree.
Good morning. Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. Poetry is a mixture of what is said and what is unsaid. Poetry can be riddle-like. Like an interesting piece of artwork, poetry requires you to bring a lot of “you” to the interpretation of what you are reading and experiencing. I witnessed a poetic moment on television this week, that has been playing on rewind in the back of my mind a lot. The dictionary says that for an experience to be poetic it has to have this quality:
“having an imaginative or sensitively emotional style of expression.”
The poetic moment I noticed was on the latest episode of Yellowstone. It was an exchange between an environmental activist, Summer, and a young cowboy, Carter. This is the scene. I consider this to be “the poem” of the day on the blog.
She (Summer) asks about the fire in the distance.
“Is anybody going to put it out?”
“They can try. Only thing that can put it out is God,” Carter replies.
“God puts out the fire?”
“God brings rain. God puts out the fire.”
“Nature puts out the fire, kid,” Summer laughs.
“That’s what I said,” Carter offers sincerely.
*** (synopsis by Outsider.com)
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
****Happy Birthday, to my blue-eyed (yes, they’re blue!) baby. Your intelligence, truthfulness, humor, and resilience has me in awe, always. I’m so proud of you and excited for your next big steps! Your mama always has your back.****
“a sitcom about a friend group where not everyone is in every episode because they have other friends they like to hang out with sometimes” – @Dave_Horwitz
“We need to start talking about abusive friendships where there’s shaming, jealousy, or different levels of emotional manipulation. Abuse isn’t something that only happens in romantic relationships.” – Dr. Nicole LaPera
I had a fascinating text exchange with good friends of mine yesterday. One friend was lamenting as to whether she wanted to go to a neighborhood Christmas party or not, because a “frenemy” in that group recently posted a picture of a more exclusive holiday experience with just a few people in their long-standing neighborhood friend group. There was a lot more to this story, and it’s not my story to tell, but it brought up a broader, interesting conversation about friendships, in general.
Who hasn’t been in situations like these? When our children were little we lived in a huge neighborhood in North Carolina with a neighborhood pool club, which served as ‘neighborhood central’. Our local elementary school was primarily just for our neighborhood. Our friendships were mostly created by having children in the same age groups. It was honestly a wonderful, love-filled experience for us, and for our children, and we all have fond memories of living there. But, of course, no friend groups exist without drama. There were inevitable cliques, and underhanded, toxic situations that demanded that people “take sides”. There were brutal betrayals, and as children grew up and many of us moved on to different pastures, “what was” is now just a fond memory, with the hazy edges of letting the bad stuff fall off, and the good stuff still be at the heart of the memories.
In our discussion about friendships, one friend noted that she has been burned enough in friendships, that she finds that she experiences more social anxiety than she ever has before. Even with us all being in our fifties and older, and being older and wiser, we still worry about what people think about us, even though logically, we all know better than to do so. As the wisdom is often said – “What someone thinks of me, is none of my business.”
My own experience in my friendships, since I was a kid, was to stay in my comfort zone, i.e. “on the peripheral.” I’ve always been a wanderer. I’ve been included in a lot of different groups throughout my life. My nerdy book club friends have always been every bit as important to me as my fun, party friends, and my longtime, “I knew you when” friends, and my intimate soul sisters, who got together in an organic fashion to understand how to help each other to feel better. Thankfully, I am married to my best friend, so I’ve never felt a need to find “a bestie” outside of our relationship. I’ve always been welcomed by a lot of different kinds of people, but I’ve never been anyone’s “maid of honor.” And I’m cool with that fact. I feel safe and free and less committal on the periphery. I find that there are less expectations, less drama, and less likelihood of really angering someone, when you are on the periphery. It helps that I like being by myself a lot, too. Perhaps I am my own best bestie? I don’t know how to armchair psycholize myself in regards to my friendships, other than to say, I am mostly pleased and satisfied with my friendships in my life and my place in them. Do my feelings occasionally get hurt when I am not included in something? Of course. I’m human. But ultimately, I’m satisfied with the relationships in my life. Being a satellite sister is the right place for me.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
