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Wonderful and Enough

Did you know that a baby puffin is called a puffling? And they’re adorable! I was just getting caught up on Nature’s Lovers on Twitter, one of my favorite all-time Twitter feeds. Honestly, I went to Twitter this morning hoping to glean some amazing nugget of wisdom that I could write about on my blog, but instead I just savored the cuteness of a variety of baby animals and took in some pictures of nature that were so beautiful, they took my breath away. Sometimes, that’s the wisdom, isn’t it? Don’t analyze, don’t pontificate, don’t puzzle over and try to explain. Just be. Just enjoy. Just breathe. Breathe it all in.

This has been a week of a lot of simple chores for me. Pedicure. Car wash. Salon appointment. Lots of laundry. Doctor’s appointment for a stuffed up ear. Taxiing my daughter to and from tennis try-outs. It sounds boring and it is kind of boring and methodical, but sometimes the most mundane tasks bring the most satisfaction when they are completed. Checking things off of the list, gives us a sense of order and accomplishment, in a world that otherwise, often seems complicated and chaotic.

“Here’s to the moments when you realize the simple things are wonderful and enough.” – Jill Badonsky

An Important Lunch

I had lunch yesterday with two people who I share history with and who I care about, and I felt the need to reach out to them. They both were in a very acute state of grief, as someone whom they loved with all of their hearts, had passed on recently. I admittedly was very nervous prior to the lunch. I wanted to be there for them, and I wanted to give my condolences face-to-face, but I was also fearful, anticipating what this lunch could look like. Would there be tears? Yes, there were tears, of course. And it felt healing, cleansing and real for all of us. Would there be laughter? Yes, shared memories and fond recollections often bring on laughter. Yes, there was laughter – laughter without shame. And it felt healing, cleansing and real for all of us. Would I say some stupid, thoughtless things that I wish I could push back into my mouth, the minute that they were said? Yes, I always do that. I’m a curious person with a dubious filter. But surprisingly, my honest, earnest questioning was met with thoughtful answers and gratefulness for a space to talk and to process what had happened. People sense where your heart is, even when the words don’t quite seem to match.

When I was in college, one of my dear friends and roommates lost her mother to cancer. I remember her saying that after the funeral and being surrounded by all of the love and support that she received during those acute first days of her loss, it was then, shattering to have everyone just “disappear.” My loved ones expressed the same sentiment yesterday. It’s not that people don’t care and it’s not that the people who are suffering a loss, even in their deepest troughs of grief, don’t understand that life must go on. It’s just that sometimes other people seem to go out of their way to avoid grieving people, mistakenly believing that the grieving people don’t want to talk or don’t need to express their feelings. Sometimes people avoid grieving people in fear that they may trigger raw emotions in the people suffering the loss. Sometimes people are afraid of saying “the wrong thing”, but saying nothing, or avoiding grievers, is far worse than accidentally saying the “wrong thing”, according to those who are grieving a loved one. Keeping the loved one’s memory alive is the most important thing to someone missing someone they loved with every inch of their hearts and of their souls. They want to be able to share all of those memories, because those memories are now all that they have left of their precious loved one.

People let you know what they need from you, especially when they are emotional. My daughter felt like her first day of try-outs for the tennis team at her school went terribly the other day, and when I picked her up, she got into the car and cried angrily for 15 minutes. Any time that I tried to interject with questions or positive affirmations, she stormily made it clear that she did NOT want to talk, in that moment. I understood. I backed off and later, she did want some comfort and she was up to answering my questions. My daughter did not hold it against me that I tried to be there for her from the “get go”, though. She knew that my heart was in the right place and later, she told me that she was grateful.

It’s brave to be there for people, whose emotions lie just under the surface, like a stormy, unpredictable current just waiting to flow and to burst through a dam of pent-up frustration and pain. I think sometimes we fear honest, real, raw emotion in others because then we have to own up to our own currents and frustrated dams that were never given enough release. But when the dams are released, the feeling of relief and the calm that soothes us right afterward, is just so healing for everyone involved in the process. The connection and understanding and empathy is enough to help each other transition through the process and stages of grieving. So when in doubt, reach out. You are strong enough to experience a person in pain and they are grateful enough to experience a person who is not totally comfortable with what to do or with what to say. It’s our hearts that connect in moments like these, and that is all of the connection that really matters. This connection helps our collective currents to then flow freely and calmly down the river of our Lives.

The Lesson of an Elderly YouTuber

I read a beautiful story this morning about an elderly YouTuber. He loves to post videos about his gardening. In December, he decided to create individual “thank you” videos to each and every one of his subscribers. He had almost 2,000 subscribers, so that act was daunting, in itself. Now he has 897,000 followers because the story of his gratitude has gone viral.

Why is it so hard for us to express our gratitude when there is such a hunger for it in this world? I think that is why we love our pets so much. Every day, my husband has gotten up and gone to work to support our family for almost 25 years and who in the family is the most excited and thrilled and thankful to see him when he comes home every evening? – Our dogs.

I have told you before, readers, and I want to say it again. Thank you so much for supporting my blog. I look at the numbers of it every day. I question myself and my motives when I do this. Is it an ego thing? There is an element of that to it, I am sure. As much as I would like to be, I’m not above having an ego. I am human. But there is a bigger part of me, who is so grateful for the connection. When I see people have taken their precious time in their days to spend some time reading my blog, that means something. It is a gift to me and it makes me feel heard, understood and appreciated. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, for that.

Every one of us has had a myriad of people who have helped get us to where we are today. Our families, our friends, our teachers, our preachers, our bosses, the authors of the books we have read, the actors of the shows we’ve watched, and even the jerks whose actions have taught us to stand up for ourselves, are all precious beings who have played a part in our own individual “becoming.” Why is gratitude for this in such scarcity, that 800,000 people would join a stranger’s YouTube channel, in hopes for an individual, sincere “thank you”? Honestly, we should be living our lives in the spirit of gratitude. We aren’t in this thing called Life alone and not one of us would be where we are today if it weren’t for the precious gifts of the other people sharing our experience. We aren’t living in a vacuum.

I had a college professor who loved to proclaim that once a certain level of material needs are met, people don’t work for money. As young, foolish college students, we would snicker at this proclamation. He would tell us that if we were to become successful in life, we would have to understand that people have a real need to be appreciated. Why does it sometimes take until middle age or maybe even older, to fully realize this? If we feel a hungering for appreciation, why would it be any different for any other being sharing the experience of Living Life?

I wonder what it would be like to sincerely express thankfulness to everyone who touches our lives today. To actually look them in the eye, without a phone connected to our ears, and to truly show how grateful we are for the part they are playing in our Life’s experience. I wonder if that feeling of gratitude might almost be overwhelming. Perhaps that may be the reason why we avoid the act of gratefulness as much as we do – to the point that it has become a real rarity. I don’t know, but I am mustering up the courage to give it a try. It will probably be wonderful.

I’m Motivated to Be Inspired

After watching history’s most boring Super Bowl last night and waking up to a gray Monday, I had difficulty deciding what to write about and even more difficulty getting the gumption up to write. It seems fitting that lately I have been pondering the difference between motivation and inspiration. Today seems like the right day to ponder it on-line.

Motivation typically comes from outside forces. You feel compelled to do something because something inside of you says that you “should” do it, or you may face consequences that you don’t want. Motivation comes from a reason or a “motive” for doing something, so that you get the result that you do want. Our sources of motivation are typically external. You are motivated to get a new car, so you go to work and save your money. You are motivated to fit into your new bikini, so you go to the gym. I am motivated to write this blog post, because I have made the promise to myself and to my readers that I will write a blog post every day.

Inspiration is internally generated. The word literally means, “in spirit.” When you are inspired, some internal passion is bubbling up inside of you just screaming to come out. Inspiration typically isn’t as concerned with “the end result”, as it is something that just wants to be created, for creation’s sake. After driving away from our eldest son’s first apartment, driving away from his completed childhood, and coming to the realization that the stage of my life, that was mainly focused on raising and molding four young children, will soon be coming to a close, I was inspired to start writing my blog. I was inspired to internally and publicly explore what this stage of life means to me and to my family.

My husband asked me an interesting question the other day. He said, “Would you rather be a beacon or an icon?” I answered “Beacon,” without pause, but that is mostly because I like living under the radar. I wouldn’t want to have to wear make-up to walk out to my mailbox, for fear of paparazzi jumping out of my bushes. I like a level of anonymity. Further, I liken beacons to be like lighthouses, and I like to think that my experiences, perceptions and lessons learned, could be helpful not just to me, but to others, as well. I think that today’s day and age has way too many icons and not nearly enough beacons.

Anyway, sometimes my blog posts are just coming from motivation to stay on track, keep my promises to myself and to others, and sometimes my blog posts are so inspired, that I have jumped out of bed to jot down my ideas and have panicked when my computer doesn’t boot up fast enough, as the words seem to be spilling from my heart at record speed. I imagine my readers are perceptive enough to see the difference. It would be ideal to live life in a state of constant inspiration, but for times when that passion lies dormant, motivation is enough force to keep the train moving on the tracks, until the next spurt of inspiration comes along.

Less, Bowl, Dance

“Just for the record: happiness is not bullshit.” 
― Andrew Sean Greer, Less

I picked up Andrew Sean Greer’s Less yesterday and I’m almost halfway through the book. The book is all about an aging gay writer’s last minute worldwide trip to avoid the wedding of a former lover. I have very little in common with the hero of the book, other than the hero is turning 50 and I am 48. It wouldn’t be my typical book choice ordinarily, but Less won the Pulitzer Prize. I wanted to experience what Pulitzer Prize writing is like these days and the book does not disappoint. It has been an adventure and a glimpse into a life which is very, very different from mine and yet I find Arthur Less, the book’s protagonist, to be so relate-able and easy to empathize with. Even though we are very different people, Arthur Less and me, I connect with his humanity, his humility, his fears of aging and his need to laugh at the absurdity of it all. I think as people, we are always concentrating on what makes us different, unique, special and differential from each other, because deep down, we really know that at our very cores, we are all, and in sometimes a delicate, fragile, exquisite way – very, very much the same.

Later tonight, I will watch the Super Bowl with my family and the rest of most of America. I will connect with my fellow human beings, in a vastly different way, than I am connecting right now by reading an insightful, Pulitzer Prize winning book. And yet, in both activities, I am and will be engaged, in beautiful human connection. The rapport felt when an author expresses the very feelings and thoughts that I have had churning inside of me from time to time, is very similar to the relational laughter being shared at the audacity of the funny Super Bowl commercials or just the general anticipation and excitement in the air, for the “big game” tonight.

“Sharing a life together is sharing steps in time. The music is different to each of us, but how beautiful the dance.” – Vinay

I Accept

God grant me the

SERENITY to accept the things I cannot change;

COURAGE to change the things I can; and

WISDOM to know the difference.

I think that the Serenity Prayer is one of the most important prayers ever written. It is so simple and spot on. Simple does not mean easy, but if we can master and live the serenity prayer, then it naturally follows that we have peace.

Acceptance is one of life’s most difficult lessons – especially as Americans. We are taught to be doers, achievers, hopers and believers. Acceptance has a ring of “giving up” to it, and that just goes against our DNA. But acceptance is not really giving up. It is surrendering the people and the circumstances over which we have no control, and offering them up to Bigger Hands. It’s dropping the “heavy as a boulder” bag at Bigger Feet and trusting that Bigger knows what is best. It’s asking Bigger/God/the All Knowing Universe/the All Loving/ the All Wise to give us peace among the people and the circumstances that frustrate us the most, yet we cannot change. Instead of asking for others to change, we ask for acceptance and peace, and a different perspective, amid all that we cannot change. We ask for focus on what we do have the ability to change – ourselves and the way we look at our lives.

I have so many examples in my own life when I tried to force my will, my wants, my ideas of what was best, on to people and situations that weren’t going to budge. I exhausted myself trying. Finally, in my most tired, spent moments of frustration, I knew that I had no other choice but to surrender my issues to my Higher Power. I was depleted. More often than not, when I stopped trying to fix my broken toys and I handed them to the Expert, that is when things really started turning around in my situation and I could breathe again. Often, situations got “fixed” in ways I could never have imagined, but looking back, the solutions were often miraculous and awe-striking, and nothing my limited mind would have conjured up. If I believe God to be an All Loving presence, the Creator of all that is, why wouldn’t I trust the judgment of God? God/Creation gave us free will, and in many ways, we have run a muck with our free will and really created some horrific disasters. But if we finally give those disasters over, God will turn them to Good. It’s what God does. Pain, in that sense, is a gift to us. When we finally reach our limits to Pain, is when we finally come to our senses, to hand that Pain over to be worked on by Bigger Hands. The Bigger Hands will lead us to what we need to do, to assist with our problems. Sometimes that can be as simple as looking at the problem through Bigger Eyes and seeing it in a different light.

“When you find no solution to a problem, it is probably not a problem to be solved, but rather a truth to be accepted.” – curiano.com

“Sometimes you don’t get what you want because you deserve better.” – u.fo Twitter

You See, I’m Friday

Somebody out there: You can’t make everybody happy. You’re not a taco. (seen on the internet)

Friday: Um, well, actually, yes, I can. You see, I’m Friday. (just the Truth)

Happy Favorite Things Friday! Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit, readers!!!! New readers, I don’t look beyond the surface on anything, on Fridays. Fridays, I keep it light and list three favorite products or websites or books or songs, etc. that are currently adding joy to my life. I sure do wish my readers would share their favorites in the Comments section. Hint! Hint! I’m always looking for new delights in my life. Please see previous Friday posts for more favorites. Here we go! Here we go:

Keter Easy Grow Patio Garden Planter – My husband and I both have farming in our blood. However, neither of us have the time or the inclination to do a lot of weeding or hoeing. We keep this attractive, elevated planter on our covered lanai and we grow all different lettuces, some cilantro, celery, strawberries, etc. all in this one container. It makes for delicious, fresh salads, harvested right outside of our door. It’s like an instant farm market where you don’t have to pay or wait in line. This lovely planter even has a built-in water gauge to let you know when there is too much or too little water for your lovely, giving plants. My husband researched and found this one. Great find, honey!

Charmin Toilet Paper with the Scalloped Edges – I didn’t even realize, at first, that my toilet paper had scalloped edges, but now that I do realize that it has scalloped edges, I’ll never go back to straight-edge toilet paper. I’m not sure why this brings me so much pleasure, but it does. I hope the novelty doesn’t wear off. The scalloped edges make the paper tear off so much easier and it looks so cute! As my friend likes to say, it’s the little things that make life so great!

Mids Tomato Sauce – Yes, readers, this is tomato sauce in a jar. Please forgive me for being such a mediocre cook. We have tried a lot of jarred tomato sauces in our years of being a family, and this one has become our holy grail sauce. It tastes amazing and comes in many different varieties. I can’t even be lured away by BOGO sales to buy any other tomato sauce. For all my other mediocre cooks out there, this one is for you!! Mediocre Cooks of the World, Unite!!

Happy Super Bowl Weekend, my friends!! Since the Steelers aren’t in it, I’m watching the Super Bowl for the commercials and Maroon 5!

“Let’s barely watch the Super Bowl together.” – someecards

Are You Serious?

“What is funny about us is precisely that we take ourselves too seriously.” – Reinhold Niebuhr

“Let us not take ourselves too seriously. None of us have a monopoly on wisdom.” – Queen Elizabeth II

When I was a kid, one of our favorite family past times was for my father to set up the slide projector. (the one with the round tray that would click noisily through the slides) Then, my mother, father, sister and I would laugh heartily at the old family pictures. We would giggle at the bouffant hairdos, the bad Toni perms, the funny glasses and even us kids would laugh at ourselves, with our pigtails and our bell-bottomed gauchos. Many of these pictures were just a decade old and yet, they were outdated enough, for us to find them to be laugh-out-loud hilarious. What’s even funnier, is that we were watching these slides in the 1980s with our enormous hair and shellacked bangs, in our mauve and teal-colored family room.

I have been binge watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. My youngest son has watched a couple of the episodes with me and a few times he has commented on the fact that he can’t believe some of the ways that they talk on the show, or what they do and wear, really happened. He finds it to be ridiculous. The show takes place in the late 1950s. Most of us “second halfers” in adulting, have parents who were kids and young adults in the 1950s. Yet when we watch shows like Maisel and Madmen, they seem otherworldly . . . from a time long, long ago.

Bottom line is that almost everything that we consider stylish, tried and true, and important and crucial right now, is likely to seem funny, trite, silly and sometimes, even impossible to understand, in the very near future. Everything that is weighing heavy on our hearts right now, is more than likely to work itself out, to the point that we will eventually have a hard time remembering what had upset us so much. And this cycle happens many, many times over, just in our lifetimes. Why would we take anything too seriously, when we fully understand that this cycle happens, again and again?

“I don’t believe in being serious about anything. I think life is too serious to be taken seriously.” – Ray Bradbury

K-9

I hate to bombard you with dog stories, readers and friends, but hey, this is my life. This is my blog. And I have two dogs. I had to write this story down to help me to process, review and understand this unsettling true event that just happened to me. Yesterday, I took my dogs for a walk. I haven’t missed a walk with my dogs since I wrote Ralphie’s Revenge, for obvious reasons. (see previous blog post)

To give you some background, let me introduce you to my dogs. We have an adolescent male Labrador retriever named Ralphie, who might as well be named “Marley.” He’s textbook lab – high energy, HIGH energy, and overwhelmingly friendly. Ralphie is NOT at all clued in, as to when people and other dogs aren’t particularly friendly or into his friendliness and boundless energy. Finally, Ralphie is certainly not aware of his own strength. We also recently adopted a beautiful, sweet eight-month-old rough collie puppy named Josie. Josie spent her formative puppy months on a remote farm. We are trying to work with her, for her to realize “Josie, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Actually, Josie’s from Wisconsin, but it’s the same idea. I think that she thinks that suburban Florida is akin to New York City. Josie is still getting used to anything louder and stranger than crickets. The thing about collies is that they have very skinny heads and long snouts. They humor you when they wear a collar. A collar is just “for show” when it comes to collies. Josie (as did our previous collie, Lacey) has the Houdini-like ability to slide out of her collar in seconds flat, no matter how tight you think you have it on her. I think choke collars would be pointless on collies. So the other day, when an older man got a little too close to us when we were walking, while he was driving a wee bit wobbly on his bike, Josie pulled out her collar instantly and I was left with a limp leash and an invisible dog at the end of it.

So yesterday, I was peacefully walking along with our dogs and I decided to take a side street, where I don’t typically walk along. I was enjoying myself and I just wanted to shake things up a bit. I was lost deep in thought, when out of nowhere, from a big, wide side yard, bounds an enormous German Shepherd. Now, I think German Shepherds are beautiful and in the right hands, they are probably fabulous family dogs. However, I have baggage. My husband still has a scar from being bit by a German Shepherd as a kid and I, myself, was bit by a German Shepherd right on my derriere, when leaving a small country gas station. I think that the shepherd didn’t realize that I DID pay for my gas. I am not a good Alpha when it comes to dogs. If we had a German Shepherd, or a Doberman or a Pit Bull, the first time it would show its teeth, even as a puppy, I would happily hand over, to the puppy, my house keys, and my car keys. I would offer to sleep in the garage, eat kibble, and give the puppy my steak. There is a good reason why we have a lab and a collie. They fit my temperament.

Anyway, in the split second that the ginormous German Shepherd is bounding towards us, I am flashing forward in my mind, to what I thought was going to happen. Ralphie was going to go into insane, overwhelmingly annoying mode and he was going to overpower my grip on his lead and break free. Josie was going to go into Houdini mode and quickly become fast-moving prey as she ran free from her collar, the leash and the frightening scene. Some way or another, I was going to become the German Shepherd’s dinner, trying to salvage me and my dogs. So, I started screaming loudly, “Hello!!!! Help!!! Help!!! Hello!!!” to try to preempt what was bound to happen.

Well, what actually did happen was really quite different than I had imagined. And part of me thinks that the way that I imagined it happening may have been a better, and certainly, a much less embarrassing outcome.

The German Shepherd stopped right at the edge of the yard and looked at me quizzically, as I screamed maniacally. He then turned his head back and looked at a big, huge, stern looking, macho man for direction as to what he should do about the crazy lady. The man appeared from behind a large white Bronco that I then noticed had the words, “Sheriff K-9” painted on it. So, it was just another day, on the job, dealing with high-strung crazies, for this police officer and his trusty K-9 . . . .

“Really, ma’am?!? Really?!? It’s okay,” is the what the perturbed man said to me.

I was truly horrified and mortified and everything-fied.

“I’m so sorry, officer. I’m sorry. I’m not crazy,” I stammered. “My labrador can sometimes be a big pain-in-the-ass and I was just concerned that he might trigger your dog.”

“Yes, labs (he said “labs” kind of pointedly, like he was really thinking something else) CAN be a pain-in-the-ass,” is what the police officer said to me and he looked at me and kind of sighed, probably sizing up what kind of risk I was to myself, or to my dogs or to the neighborhood. He then called his smart, Chewbacca-like companion to the Bronco and I quickened my pace home.

I’m not sure what the meaning or moral of this whole event was to me, or if there really even is, any kind of meaning or moral. I’m just happy that it’s over. And I am truly grateful for our wonderful police officers and our amazing police dogs, from the bottom of my heart. They have to put up with a lot, even when they are off-duty.

Mt. Saint Mommy

“Instant gratification takes too long.” – Carrie Fisher

My eldest son and his girlfriend came to visit us this past weekend. My eldest son and my husband have a proclivity for authentic German food and my son’s girlfriend had never tried authentic German food, so I had a plan. There is an amazing, popular German restaurant about 45 minutes from where we live, that my husband and I had been dying to try, but we couldn’t get reservations. So, I finally got reservations, way in advance to my son’s visit, for our family to go there this past weekend, as a special treat.

The restaurant is a teeny, tiny, intimate establishment run by a family from Munich. As we entered the very packed restaurant, everyone seemed surprised to see us – the guests, the hostess, the cooks, the accordion player, all had the same look that said, “What are you doing here?”

I marched up to the hostess, whose stand is kind of right in the middle of this teeny, little hobbit-like building, and right in front of the entrance of the kitchen, announcing my reservation, for my party of six. The hostess looked flustered as she fluttered through pages, in her primitive reservation notebook. She timidly admitted that they had mistakenly marked our reservation for the previous night and that there was nothing available that evening.

The restaurant got hushed. The accordion player stopped playing. I suspect some of the guests were hoping for a little drama and excitement to go along with their strudel dessert. My family started edging towards the door. You see, I don’t embarrass easily, and my family knows that about me. They saw that I was about ready to erupt. I was standing in the middle of that tiny little beehive, filled with people and gravy and strong German beer, and my explosion was imminent. I’m a very nice person, until I’m not. I have a very long fuse, but the end of my fuse is not pretty. I’m a fire sign.

Luckily, the owner of the restaurant, an efficient, calm, structured woman, saw what the end of the imminent outburst could look like, as I was firmly implanted in the middle of her restaurant, growing larger in my stature as my insides were bubbling and rising to the surface. I had given my family the “mom/wife stink eye” that made them all freeze in place before they could slide out of the door. The owner fully accepted, in that very moment, that we weren’t going anywhere, without a frenzied fuss, at the very least. Everyone in the restaurant held their breath. The accordion player’s arms were shaking from holding the instrument up in the air, suspended from play. And then, with a few orders barked out in German, the owner of the restaurant rearranged the whole seating chart of the establishment like it was an efficient game of musical chairs. She poured large, “on the house” glasses of wine, encouraging her other guests to move to other corners of the cottage and everyone happily and quickly obliged.

In the end, we had a wonderful time. The food, drink and company were marvelous. The accordion player stayed a little longer and played some particularly merry tunes. I look forward to going there again and I will put in an extra call to confirm my reservation next time. Mt. Saint Mommy didn’t erupt after all. False alarm.

“Embarrassment and awkward situations are not foreign things to me.” – Paul Rudd