Things That Caught My Attention

“I have come to think of almost everyone with whom I come into contact as a patient in the emergency room. I see a lot of gaping wounds and dazed expressions.” ~@ANNELAMOTT

This first quote struck me as quite true and interesting. Yesterday, seemed like a particularly rough day for a lot of people in my circle. The emergency room of Life had a full waiting room, yesterday, it seemed. I hate that I feel so confused with anyone I encounter on a walk or in the grocery store. It’s a feeling filled with compassion and wanting to hug them and show them smiley eyes behind my mask and at yet the same time, I try to avert eye contact and I hold my breath and kind of shrink into myself, any time I pass someone. Then I see the people walking around confidently without masks, and I am filled with a mix of righteous anger, a twinge of embarrassment (I’m not used to the mask thing yet) and maybe even a smidge of jealousy of their indignant confidence. Confliction of feelings is a diagnosis that I would give to myself and probably to most people whom I know.

The above picture is what someone did to convert their attic into an in-home tent. I want one. My daughter is convinced that we have “attic people” living upstairs, despite the fact that we live in Florida and our attic is so hot and inhospitable that we sweat gallons, just bringing our Christmas decorations down every year. And that’s in the wintertime. If we do have attic people, I hope that they have decorated it like the picture above. I think that it would add to our overall home’s value, for sure. It would be like having a vacation home, in your home.

Today would have been Harper Lee’s 94th birthday. What a visionary, amazing writer! When you stand out from the “stand outs”, that really says something.

Someone commented on this tweet by saying that the aliens would get food poisoning. I texted this meme to some friends and one of my friends said that there is great truth in this, as she has eaten ice cream every single night of quarantine. I mentioned that I eat ice cream every single night, too, and that’s pretty desperate of me because I have lactose intolerance. So, if the aliens eat me, I think I will be like a cheese puff to them, filled with a lot of air.

Speaking of being an old airbag, I better quit while I’m ahead. See you tomorrow, friends! Hope that you are not in the proverbial emergency room waiting area, but at the very least, resting comfortably at home.

The Fish Bowl

I’ve been trying to decide what I miss more. Do I miss not being able to do specific things or is it more that I miss the feeling of freedom to do whatever I feel like doing? Out of my immediate family, I honestly think that my daily life has changed the least. In my family, it is more like everyone has become an integral part of my daily life and routine, that’s all. It is like I am living in a fish bowl that now has a heck of a lot more fish swimming around in it, than usual.

That’s all I have for a Monday. Mondays are tough in a normal world. In quarantine world, they are extra sluggish. See you tomorrow. Stay well.

Soul Sunday

“I should like, if I could, to leave a humble gift – a bit of chaste prose that had caught up some noble moods.” – Max Ehrmann

So yesterday I was going through some old books of mine and I found a lovely poem by the heralded author and poet, Max Ehrmann. This is an old poem. Ehrmann wrote it in 1927 and its worldwide popularity started around the 1950s, years after Ehrmann’s death. The poem is called Desiderata which is Latin for “things that are yearned for.” As my regular readers know, Sundays are devoted to poetry here at Adulting – Second Half. Typically, I write a poem, or I find a poem by someone else that I want to share. I ask that you share your poetry in the Comments section. This is not a critique session. This is a safe outpouring of our feelings in the form of words. Please share. Your poems are precious gifts to yourself and to us. Today, my offering is just to share Desiderata by Max Ehrmann because the poem holds particular poignancy in times like these, especially.

Desiderata | Desiderata poem, Desiderata, Words

Wide Open Canvas

This whole coronavirus situation has really stripped our lives down to the simple necessities and essentials, hasn’t it? With the idea of things starting to open back up, albeit slowly and carefully, I’ve been reflecting on what I really want to add back into my life. There are things which I truly, truly miss and I can’t wait to add back in, such as regular hair appointments and pedicures, but there are other things that I was spending a lot of time on before the coronavirus, that maybe don’t need to be added back into the mix. I had a fair amount of time-wasters and impulsive hole-fillers, that I can do without. This coronavirus quarantine has kind of given us all more of an empty canvas again and that is scary and exciting and freeing and overwhelming, all at the same time. It’s a real swirl of emotion, isn’t it?

I’ve mentioned before, on the blog, that the last recession was the perfect storm for my family. We basically checked every recession box including job loss, savings loss, upside down house, etc. . . . I used to only half-jokingly say that we were “the poster kids” for the recession. I reached a point in that very frightening storm, in the life of our family, where I knew that I just had to keep a focus on what was truly the most important to me. I had to decide what were the things that I was not going to allow the recession to take, and that was the physical health and loving stability of our family (individually and collectively), my marriage, my sanity and my faith. If I held on to these most vital things, then I knew we could build back up. And we did. And my life is healthier and more gratifying and more authentically lived, than I ever lived it before.

These times are scary, no doubt about it. The unknowns are daunting and some of our pots have already been so emptied that we’re scraping the bottom of the pot, with our nails, desperately trying to just hang on. But sooner than we expect, things are going to open up for all of us, and there will be some nuggets, filling up our containers again, and filling it quickly. If we stay in panic mode and mindlessly just grab at any nugget coming our way, especially the old familiar things, without giving any thought and consideration to what we want to put back into our pots, then what have we really gleaned from this pandemic? Anything? Don’t we at least deserve to get some really amazing, life changing insights and direction changes, from one of the biggest crises of our lifetime? It is said that climbing the highest mountains, affords us the most amazing views. We’re climbing this damn pandemic mountain, and it’s tough. We should definitely bask in the major glimpses and the panoramic views and perspectives, when we are finished climbing.

Don’t be afraid to have an empty pot or a wide open canvas for a little while. Don’t be too quick to mindlessly fill that canvas with your old, familiar lifestyle. Don’t be afraid to leave some empty space for a while, until things that really resonate with you, come along to make the picture more vividly you. An empty pot doesn’t feel like a gift most of the time, but it is lighter, and it does have space to hope for things once thought not possible, in a pot that was already overfilling. Let that space be filled with light for a while, until what truly reverberates and feels most meaningful to the deepest center of your own heart and soul, appears and asks to be invited into your life. If we all do this with our now streamlined lives, imagine what the world will look like after this whole virus crisis is past us. If we do this, anyone and anything that we have lost through this time, will not have been lost in vain. We will have given all of this pain and this fear and this sickness and this sadness, some meaning. We all have the power to do it. We all have the power to bring deep meaning and awe-inspiring redemption, from this chaos. We are much more powerful than we know.

Jojo Friday

“Let everything happen to you / Beauty and terror / Just keep going / No feeling is final.” – Rainer Maria Rilke

Okay, friends, first of all, Happy Friday! Happy Favorite Things Friday! Second of all, time for me to gush. I love a lot of things in life. I adore my family and my friends and my pets and my experiences and my home and books and driving in a convertible with the top down and adventuring in unknown places and delicious spicy food and writing and music and hiking and candles and throw pillows and perfume and art and fashion and good lighting and jewelry and nature and the mystery of all things spiritual and the sound of rain and our adorable three baby pineapples growing out back . . . . I could go on and on, but I also adore good movies and last night, during Thursday’s “Family Movie Night in the Living Room”, we watched (even my eldest son in New Jersey, Facetimed in, for this one) one of the best movies that I have seen in a long, long time. I was, at first, very hesitant to watch a film that was supposedly a “comedy” featuring Hitler, but when I saw how well this satire was done, I sank into the delicious experience of watching it and I could watch it again and again. The poem above is featured in the film, which will be the first of today’s Favorite Things. New readers, please see previous Friday posts for more favorites and all readers, please post your favorites in the Comments section. Let’s focus on our favorite things today, friends, not those things which we detest, such as nasty, nasty, ugly viruses.

Jojo Rabbit – This film puts me in mind of a darker A Christmas Story (also one of my all-time favorite movies). The acting is incredible, the filming is all together charming, and the painful winsomeness which all we feel, when we are going through dark times (such as now), is captured perfectly in this innocently honest, coming of age tale. I LOVE this movie! I found it to be entertaining, poignant, funny and raw. If you like Wes Anderson type movies, such as The Grand Budapest Hotel, you will like Jojo Rabbit, as much as I do.

Sea Bunnies – When Zooming with my high school-aged mentee yesterday she showed me her excellent artwork which she is working on. She drew a postage stamp with these adorable little creatures called “Sea Bunnies” featured on the stamp. I said to my genuinely genuine and authentic-ly refreshing mentee, “Those are so adorable, I wish that they were real!” She said, “They are real. Look them up.” And so to you, reader, I say, “They are real. Look them up.” If you want delightful eye candy (eye candy has no fat nor calories), look up “sea bunnies.”

“I Did Not Touch The Food” video – I don’t think that I have ever seen more conviction in a denial of the truth than from this adorable toddler, Lily. This video does not get old for me. I love the forcefulness she uses to profess her “innocence.” If you want a giggle, watch the video. I dare you to try to only watch it once.

https://videos.dailymail.co.uk/video/mol/2020/04/22/4327567503805953879/640x360_MP4_4327567503805953879.mp4

Enjoy chewing on some grapes this weekend! See you tomorrow, my wonderful friends and readers!

(Scene from Jojo Rabbit, featuring Scarlett Johansson)

Just Arrive

It’s easy to fixate on everything that goes to ground as time goes by: the disintegration of a relationship, the disappearance of good work well-done, the diminishment of a sense of purpose and meaning. But, as I’ve come to understand that life ‘composts’ and ‘seeds’ us as autumn does the earth, I’ve seen how possibility gets planted in us even in the most difficult of times.
– Parker Palmer

My friend shared an essay by Paul Ollinger yesterday. In the essay, Paul talks about a time when he was taking a flight, with his infant child. The flight got delayed, his baby had an unknown ear infection, his pregnant wife was exhausted, so in short, the trip was an overall disaster. Any one of us with children, has experienced at least once in our lives, one of those miserable trips, with young children. The next day, Paul described the horrible flight situation to his coworker, while apologizing for not getting to work on a project that they had going on, because of the terrible travel situation.

She replied, “Don’t worry about it. When you travel with babies, your only goal is to arrive.”

Paul then goes on to compare traveling with small children, with the situation which we have going on here. He says that many gurus are telling us that this is the time (this quarantine/coronavirus situation) to completely transform our minds, and bodies, and our souls, and to write a novel and to not only make 200 masks for our neighbors, but also to maybe sew 2-3 quilts, that could be good enough to be entered into craft contests, when this is all over. Paul says that while for a select few of us, this may be a very purposeful, productive, meaningful time in our lives, probably for most of us, the goal is to just arrive safely to the other side of this mess, all in one piece. That’s it. That is all that is required of us, much like traveling long distances with small children.

After reading this article, I reflected on the truth of what Paul is saying. I have felt an underlying pressure to find my purpose and to find the profound meaning and to find the lessons that this coronavirus experience has for me. I have felt pressure to utilize this “extra time” by making the most of it, to get major projects finished and new creative projects started. But we are still in the middle of the flight. And this is not ordinary travel. This is an experience like none that I have ever experienced. It is full of distractions, and unknowns, and worries and bumps along the way. It is an exhausting trip. Maybe it is okay and perfectly good enough, to just arrive, safely to the other side of it all, all in one piece.

In my almost 50 years of life, I can thankfully count, probably just on one hand, major, life-changing, “pull the rug out from under me” type experiences, that while in the midst of the experience, I was numb, shocked, confused, bewildered, sometimes panicked, fearful, dismayed, disillusioned, angry, depleted, and sometimes downtrodden. Right now, I think that I would put this coronavirus experience in that mix of this spicy soup, of my life’s most profound happenings. If this coronavirus situation does end up being one of those top five to eight truly intense, metamorphic life experiences, then I suppose it will follow the same pattern as the other past, penetrating events did. The lessons, the internal changes in me, the deepening in my faith and in the processes of Life and the Universe, the shifts in my priorities, the realizations of my true fortitude, will happen at a later time. Or perhaps more so, the realization of this growth and change happening in me, will come at a later time. These seeds of change in me, have probably already been planted, as the weeks of quarantine have gone by. The ground that they have been planted in, is fertile with emotion, and knowledge and wisdom, that only can come from experience. It is not barren soil. But I won’t realize the beauty of the garden of this experience, until I have arrived to the other side, without major harm. Right now, all I have to do is to trust that I am safely in one my life’s cocoon moments. I have to trust that all that I need to get me through this metamorphosis, is all tidily packed into the cocoon with me. I have to have the patience and the compassion, to let the process happen, in its own time and in its own way. Nature designed it that way. And when this particular episode in my life is all over, and I set out to flight, with my beautiful new wings, it is then, that I can fly high up into the sky and look down upon everything that has happened. I will gaze at the new, fresh, beautiful, flowering, brought to light, perspective in awe, because it will be like one which I have never known before.

You’re in a Time-Out

Yesterday was a turning point day for me, I think, in this whole quarantine situation. I finally got to a point of surrender. Early into this dire coronavirus situation, a friend sent a funny text of a meme that suggested that perhaps God had put us all in a time-out. Now I believe in an all-loving God. I don’t think God is out to punish us. I think that God just lets us have free will and often allows the consequences of our free will to happen, but at the same time God promises to be with us and to comfort us and to help us, every step of the way. If we allow God to do it.

So yesterday, I got to thinking back, to when my children were little and I doled out time-outs. Time-outs really weren’t meant for punishment. Time-outs were meant to stop the frenetic behavior, the tantrum, the out of control conduct, right in its tracks, so that my child had a chance to calm down, to not escalate the situation, and to bring himself or herself back into balance. When I put one of my children into a time-out, there were all sorts of first reactions. They would cry and scream and rail against it. I remember one time, my eldest son and I both pushed against either side of his bedroom door, for what felt like an eternity. An angry, curly-headed, three-year-old ginger little boy is a lot stronger than you would guess. And so is a frazzled, at-her-limit, young mother. After the denial and anger about the time-out, my child would then start bargaining with me, promising to change their behavior, if I just let time-out be over, RIGHT NOW. This begging and bargaining was usually still loud, and angry and full of cries and self-pity. There was nothing “even keel” about it. After the bargaining and arguing for the time-out to be over, a reticence would set in. The child would sulk and pout, with a teary, “Why me?” expression on his or her face, as they sat in a corner of their dismay. And then when the cry shivers finally slowed down and stopped, my child would come around to a calmer, more peaceful emotional place and would even start amusing himself or herself in their little corner of the world, knowing that the time-out would soon be over and they could then head back out to play.

When you really consider it, a “time-out” really looks like a mini grief cycle. Yesterday, I think I finally came to the “acceptance” stage of the coronavirus and all of the consequences the coronavirus has brought to our global society. Acceptance is not the same as approval. Acceptance is the surrendering to “what is.” Yesterday, I donned my gloves and my mask and shopped in my grocery store, and I accepted the many empty shelves that have never been that empty before, in my lifetime. I didn’t hold my breath as I moved around the store, feeling the anxiety creeping up quickly, tightening my neck and my shoulders, as I shopped. I actually felt more peaceful at the grocery store yesterday, than I have since this whole thing began. Yesterday, I rode my bike all around my neighborhood. I don’t ride my cute, old, beach cruiser style bike very often, but every time that I do ride it, I ask myself why I don’t do it more often. Riding it around, at an easy-going, non-purposeful pace, is so enjoyable. Yesterday, I held my typically not-very emotional daughter, as she cried and cried about missing her friends, missing her tennis season, missing her old way of life. I didn’t try to find a way to make it better. I couldn’t. I knew that she needed this release, so I just held her and I let her know that it was okay to cry. I accepted her pain and loss. I surrendered to the idea that as her mom, I can’t fix it all, but I can hold her and I can love her and I can let her know that I understand. Nothing changed in our circumstances yesterday. We are still in quarantine. There is no vaccine for the coronavirus yet. There are so many “unknowns” still swirling around this very precarious situation, but yesterday, I didn’t cry and scream about it. I didn’t pretend that it wasn’t happening and that life was “normal.” I didn’t try to find a loophole to bargain my way out of the situation, and I didn’t lay in bed all day. Yesterday, I shopped with a mask on, biked around a particularly quiet neighborhood and I held my daughter as she cried. I accepted the situation and I felt more at peace than I have felt since this all began. I suppose “time-outs”, much like the cycle of grief, have a good purpose. They are not punishment. Time-outs are a chance to get back to a healthy center and to really reflect on what is most important to you, when all of the emotional charge has dissipated. Surrender and acceptance . . . . much like “plop” and “fizz”, what a relief it is. Surrender, accept and feel the relief.

Quarantine Quotes

Good morning, friends. Today is grocery shopping day. I am sitting here, sipping my coffee, trying to muster up the courage to go to the grocery store. Just two months ago, that would have been a ridiculous statement. Last night I was making myself giggle looking at the “best quotes from quarantine” on Twitter. Here’s a sampling:

“I better get out of bed, I’m late for the sofa”

#LMMO (“LAUGHING MY MASK OFF “)

” Now I understand why pets try to run out of the house when the door opens.”

Before I was “just sitting on my ass”. Today I’m saving lives.

My son as he’s bringing a basket of laundry to the laundry room: “Mom, you’re going to need to wash this basket of pajamas or I will need to resort to wearing real clothes again.”

I asked my four year old daughter to put pants on. Her response? “There’s no need for pants anymore!”

Six year old son – “I don’t go to regular school anymore. I go to private school.”

Forget the Freshman 15, I just put on the Covid 19

When quarantine is over, let’s not tell some people.

“I feel like we just did this yesterday”…said my youngest child.

“Boy, I sure wished somebody would toilet paper our house!”

My brother asked me what I ate for breakfast and I replied “which one”

You should walk around in your swimsuit instead of your sweats during quarantine, that will keep you out of the kitchen.

Went out to get groceries and also needed to get gas. My dad decided to not get gas on the way home bc we needed to get it later on this week “so we can have something to look forward to”

On that note, I guess that I have something to look forward to with my grocery shopping ahead of me, so I had better go don my gloves and my mask and stand in the first line for possibly some toilet paper and then follow the carefully laid out arrows to scrounge for some meat, produce and a whole lot of snacks to get us through another week. Stay well, friends. Laugh daily.

Repeat Broken Toe

Readers, I wrote the blog post below, on August 4, 2018. I decided that it was a good one to bring back, during this scary pandemic situation. I have noticed that friends, relations and neighbors seem to feel guilty or petty about expressing sadness or disappointment over missing events like proms, vacations, banquets, weddings, sporting events, concerts, etc. because they feel lucky enough to still have their health, comfortable homes and employment. Perspective is important and keeping a healthy perspective can keep us going in tough times, but it is also okay and frankly, necessary to process your feelings of loss about the littler things, too. Sending virtual hugs to all of you!

Broken Toes Hurt!

The wonderful thing about having years of experience under your belt, is all of the influences and people who have made strong impressions on your life. One piece of advice that I got back in my twenties has stuck with me my entire life and I have passed it on to many people myself since then. At the time I got the advice, I belonged to a Mommies group of very wise women who, though we have scattered in many directions throughout the years, I will never forget their influence and kindness in the beginning years of my parenting adventures and mishaps.

The day I got the sacred advice, I was sitting in my friend’s kitchen as our children were all interacting with each other and toy cars and legos and cartoons. I was lamenting dramatically about a problem that must have been relatively minor, since to this day, I honestly can’t even remember what that problem was about. Mid-sentence into my dramatics, it occurred to me that my problem was almost irrelevant compared to what my friend had been going through. After having her first child, trying for a second child had ended in endless miscarriages and several failed, expensive IVF treatments. The situation was taking a huge toll on her body, her marriage and her very outlook on life. She and her husband had recently decided to stop trying again for another baby. “I’m so sorry!” I said to my friend, full of guilt and shame. “What I’m going through is nothing compared to what you are experiencing.” She grabbed my hand and said, “Just because someone is having a heart attack next to you, doesn’t mean that your broken toe doesn’t hurt.”

Now my third son recently broke his actual toe to the the point that he needed to have it operated on, so I can attest that yes, broken toes are indeed very painful. While it is often necessary to look at horribly sad situations that people are going through, to keep your own problems in perspective, it is not good to diminish or dismiss your own very real feelings about your own very real experiences. It is not possible to have compassion and true empathy for others’ blights, if you haven’t allowed yourself to feel and experience the kinds of sadness, loneliness and fears that people go through when they are having a tough time of it. When people go through the tragedies in life, who besides God, do they often turn to for hope and direction? Usually, the most helpful people are people who can relate. Support groups of people who have experienced the same similar adversity and have shown that it is possible to come through to the other side of the pain, are usually the greatest inspiration to people trying to put the pieces of their own lives back together.

We’re not meant to go through this thing called Life alone. If we were, this blog wouldn’t even exist. When I read others’ blogs and books and listen to others’ stories, it fills me with the sense of, “Oh yes, I can relate to that.” or “Oh good, someone else sees this the same way I do.” or “Oh wow, I never looked at it that way. That’s helpful.” At the very least it’s, “Hmmmm, interesting.” I’m grateful that the downsides of my life experience have mostly been more of the “broken toe” variety, but I’m also grateful that I can share my “broken toe” experiences with people who are travelling with me. I honestly and fully feel it all, and thus, I deeply understand.

Soul Sunday

Good morning, friends and readers. I slept in this morning. I had a really good night’s sleep and I woke into a morning that simply could not be prettier. So I spent a lot of time in the back yard with our dogs, and all the while, nature lovingly surrounded us with its incredible, synchronistic sights and sounds. I think that I was experiencing poetry in that moment, with no words, yet it was pure poetry. I think a gift that we all have gotten from this quarantine experience is the gift of more compassion for ourselves. We have been given more “guilt-free” time; this time is free of the judge-y “shoulds”. Why not sleep in? Why not lull around in nature? Why not have an empty calendar open to some spontaneity? It’s like quarantine has given us permission to do things that maybe we could have been doing all along, but we had some kind of irrational judgment that there were better uses of our time.

New readers, Sundays are poetry workshop days. On Sundays, I typically share a poem that I have written and I strongly encourage you to share your poems in my Comments section. This is creative free-flow. I would never allow any negativity in this beautiful, calming Sunday space, so please, please share your profound souls with us. Poetry connects us like not other form, in the written world. It is word music. Today, honestly, my own creative juices aren’t singing, but I have two poems that I will share with you that came to my attention this week. The first poem is by the great author, Kelly Corrigan, and the second poem is a beautiful offering from my friend and poet, Walberto Campos. Enjoy!

To Alessandro

by Kelly Corrigan

I should haven’t been standing so close
this morning at the Safeway.
I thought she was about to leave–
the woman with the good haircut and fancy bag,
her mounds of kale and yogurt and nuts,
enough for another apocalyptic week.

But then the machine betrayed her.
She swiped and inserted and stood back.
She reapproached.
She said “This doesn’t make sense,
I don’t know why this isn’t working,
I just used this card last night.”
Her hands were shaking.
Then Alessandro, benevolent ruler of Safeway line 5, said
“Take your time.
It’s not your fault.
There’s no rush.”

There was though.
There were 11 carts behind me in the pet food aisle and
23 more down the water and sports drink aisle.
People leaning back against crates of Gatorade
shifting from foot to foot
scrolling then staring then
leaning around each other to see what the hold up was.

We were looking to Alessandro and his $11-an-hour army
running distribution and provisions for a nation unnerved:
the twenty-two-year-old at Target wiping down the door
handles and carts,
the thirty-nine-year-old at the farmer’s market who’d rather
be home with her jumpy children, her husband who just lost his job at the corner bistro,
The fifty-five-year-old at CVS who smiles behind his mask as
he hands over your asthma inhaler or anti-anxiety
medication.

In Alessandro’s army,
every soldier seems ready to serve
standing at attention,
saying the thing we most need to hear:
“Take your time,
Its not your fault,
There’s no rush.”

Many blessings to you today, my friends! Enjoy a guilt-free Sunday. Follow your whims!