Morris to the Extreme

credit: @woofknight (Twitter)

What I find most frustrating in today’s world is everything seems to be taken to the extremes. It seems like every example that we are shown of anyone, and of anything, is the rare, scary, worst case scenario, and this “worst case” extreme is being held up, as a typical example of the whole (“the whole” being any particular race, gender affiliation, generation, political party, job/industry, religion, area one lives in, etc.). I don’t honestly relate to the extreme members of any group, whether the group be political, social, religious, etc., even those groups that I technically “belong to” and associate with. I’ve never been “educated” by an extremist or a fundamentalist in any area, because I have already shut down in fear, and in disgust to anything that they have to say.

As seen above, if I had never experienced an ordinary house cat before, and this picture is how I first encountered a cat, I might falsely assume that all domesticated cats are warmongers. In reality, this is actually the first time that I have ever even witnessed a housecat in military regalia. (and this is likely a doctored picture. I don’t assume that “Morris” realizes that he is sitting on an army tank).

I don’t believe that any extremist and fundamentalist is representative of “the whole” of anything. I do believe that hardcore extremists and fundamentalists are more rare than we are led to believe. Yet in my experience lately, our news media, and our social media would have us believing that almost everyone is an extremist about every single one of their own individual beliefs. Can you imagine how exhausting it would be to be that extreme and unyielding about every aspect of your life?! Extremists do not represent my family, nor my friends, nor my community. Do they yours? It takes a lot of energy, (and usually angry, hate-filled, one-minded, intolerant energy) to be an extremist. I prefer being around people who move from their deepest, most soulful energy when they are going about life. These people live their beliefs. Their energy seems to manifest itself in kind, curious, intuitive, loving, open-minded, healthy, thoughtful, and considerate ways. Their energy seems to do a better job of going about their lives mindfully, and confidently “being” the way, versus trying to control and shame and “cancel” and dominate and scare and bully others, into following “a certain prescribed way.” It is much better to be an example of a life well lived, than to try to force, and to indoctrinate your beliefs and your way of life on to anyone else. What say you, Morris?

(Fun Fact: The original Morris, the cat, was a humane society rescue who starred in 58 commercials from 1969-1978, until he died at the age of 17.)

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

The Luck of the Friday to Ye

Happy Friday! Happy St. Patrick’s Day!! May today be lucky, plucky, clucky, ducky and crispy! (see Wack-a Chicken game) Obviously, I am in my typical devil-may-care Friday mood! On Fridays, I try to stay away from the serious side of life. On Fridays, I discuss my favorites of anything. Life is supposed to be lived sensually and tactically and curiously and peacefully, and then our minds start making up stories about it – stories that get us all tripped up. On to my favorite for today:

While we all love clovers on St. Patty’s Day (especially the elusive yet extremely lucky four leaf clovers), we usually do not like clovers on any other day, especially clover that shows up in huge swaths in our lawns. In wanting to be good to the Earth and also good to our three dogs, my husband no longer purchases synthetic weed killer. (which he insists doesn’t work well anymore, anyway) Instead my husband swears by this formula (which, you guessed it, is my favorite for today): 30 percent Harris Vinegar (one gallon), 1 cup coarse salt, and 1 teaspoon dish washing liquid. He mixes all three ingredients in his sprayer and makes sure that the concoction sits for 30 minutes so that it dissolves and mixes completely. Harris Vinegar is much stronger than the usual stuff that you get in grocery stores and use in salads. It’s worth every dime when used as a cleaner and as a weed assassin.

Some Irish proverbs to consider:

May you be at the gates of heaven an hour before the devil knows you’re dead!

May you have the hindsight to know where you’ve been, the foresight to know where you are going, and the insight to know when you have gone too far.

 May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past.

It is often that a person’s mouth broke his nose.

And what I wish for all of you, my beloved readers:

May your heart be light and happy, may your smile be big and wide, and may your pockets always have a coin or two inside!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday Fun-Day

Credit: @woofknight (Twitter)

It’s amazing how little heat it takes for an Easter Bunny to turn into an Easter Beast. You have been warned. May the bunny part of all of us (and not the beasts) be prevalent today.

I want to take this moment on the blog to do a shout-out to all GOOD office personnel of medical professionals. Honestly, the office staff of any medical professional is almost as important as a cure for what ails you. Our dentist’s office staff are amazing people. I would trust them to successfully organize anything, and they do it with a friendly attitude beyond compare. They make it look easy. And our dentist realizes this, too. He took them all to Italy one year.

I have left the services of good doctors because their office staff were mean and horrible. I once left a good pediatrician due to her office staff. (She lost out on the payment of bills, for four kids.)

Every job is important. Every job makes a difference. It’s usually the people-facing jobs that make the biggest difference of all. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, to all of you out there who take your jobs seriously, and who are devoted to excellence. It means more than you realize.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Good morning. Welcome to poetry day on the blog. I saw this poem posted on a Twitter account earlier this week and I took a picture of it because I knew that I wanted to share it here, on the blog this Sunday. I love the irony and the cleverness of the poem. I hope that the daylight saving time isn’t messing with you too much today. At some time, write a poem today. You won’t regret it. (You can start at noon and save a lot of time. 😉 )

Why Did It 

by William J. Harris

Why did it

take all

day

to get nothing

accomplished

Why, I could

have started

at noon

& saved a lot

of time

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

What Should I Eat?

I’m so sick of figuring out what to eat all the time. – Erica Rhodes, comedienne (Twitter)

I was so validated when I read this tweet this morning. One of my biggest complaints over the years, being the stay-at-home parent to four kids, was figuring out every night’s dinner plans. I’m not a great cook. I don’t honestly love to cook. I find it frustrating that something that takes a lot of time and planning and expense, creates a big mess, and inevitably adds fat to my body, is also devoured in a span of a just a few minutes. I’m not denigrating those who love to cook. I admire you. I wish that I was as passionate about cooking, as I am about writing.

Now that my kids are grown and out of the house, I now realize that I still hate figuring out meals, even if it is just for myself. My husband gets tired of hearing me complain about figuring out dinner. (Breakfast and lunch long ended up in the “fend for yourself” category, even when our kids were still at home.) “I honestly don’t care!” he says with a frustrated tone. “Stop stressing about dinner! We’ll just eat whatever we feel like eating at the time.” But that’s part of the problem, too. How much time of your life do you sit in front of your open refrigerator, or your kitchen cabinet, and you think to yourself, “I’m really hungry, but nothing appeals to me. I’m starved, but I just don’t know what to eat.”? If we are honest with ourselves, true food cravings are few and far between, and they are usually related to hormones and/or emotions. True food cravings are wonderful, because they turn eating into a focused mission to be accomplished, above all other missions and chores.

Some people who read Erica Rhodes’ tweet were outraged, and called her privileged for even thinking such a thought, let alone tweeting it. (And then, at the other end of the spectrum, there was the guy in the comments, who truly does seem kind of privileged, when he mentioned his live-in chef. Sigh.) I think that it goes without saying, that of course, those of us who have plenty of food to eat, are extremely grateful for this fact. There is no need to shame anyone. Everyone understands that there are certainly many worse problems in life than figuring out what to eat. Still, it was relieving to see that a lot of other people struggle with this daily dilemma of figuring out meals. Here are some comments to Erica Rhodes’ tweet, that even if you don’t see them as viable solutions to this problem, you will probably get a good giggle from them. I know that I did. Comments to her tweet:

It’s such a bother! Makes me want the everlasting gobstopper from Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. Every day! (Matthew Kenneth Gray)

I started eating salad every day for lunch six years ago. I hate it still after all this time but there’s a peculiar freedom in knowing I’m never going to enjoy lunch again. (Justin Stenson)

Grubhub needs a “surprise me” option. (John Dawkins)

Book a gig on a cruise. (Matt D’Rion)

Did Steve Jobs eat the same thing everyday? I know he wore the same clothes not to have to think about what to wear. Thinking about it, perhaps not the best idea anyway. (baranoide)

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday – Funday

Doodles definitely seem to be the dogs of choice in our parts. Every night when we walk our three dogs (none that are poodle mixes), a man rides his bike right by us, with his adorable, frisky poodle/doodle/kitandcaboodle tethered to the bike, running along side of him. The biker has a bright red light, and the dog also sports a bright red light, too. We don’t know the dog’s name, so my husband calls him “Rudolph.”

I just looked up the various types of poodle mixes, and their names, and my favorite is the “Bossypoo”, which is a mix of Boston Terrier and poodle. I thought that “Foodle” was a fun one, too. A “Foodle” is a Fox Terrier/Poodle mix. I wonder if our society got obsessed with mixing different dog breeds with poodles, not just for their intelligence and lack of shedding, but more so, so that we could come up with really fun names for the new breeds?

(Confession: These are the types of mindless, ridiculous concepts which I think deeply about on Monday mornings, when I just can’t get my “get up and go” to get up and go. Please humor me and tell me that I am not alone in this interesting, meandering use of time. Have a great week!)

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Berry, Berry Friday!

Happy Friday!!! Happy Best Day of the Week!!! Happy Day to play with all of your favorite stuff!! On Fridays, here at the blog, that’s all I discuss – my favorite stuff. We weren’t given five senses for nothin’. Today’s favorite involves perhaps my favorite sense: Taste. My daughter was home from college visiting us last weekend, and we went to her, and mine, and her dad’s favorite store: Costco. My daughter begged and pleaded (Okay, huge exaggeration. My daughter suggested them, and I, without hesitation, nodded enthusiastically to throw them into the cart) for us to buy a bag of Trü Frü frozen chocolate covered strawberries. Oh! Wow! Let’s just say that the enormous bag of Trü Frü did not make it to this weekend. These luscious frozen strawberries are first coated with white chocolate and then they are dipped in milk chocolate. And these juicy babies trick your brain into believing that they are healthy, because you know, they’re fruit. Supposedly, three of them are less than 100 calories. . . if you can keep it to three.

Don’t fret. You can buy Trü Frü in many different food stores besides Costco. You can even purchase all sorts of varieties of Trü Frü fruit snacks on their own website. (I know where you are headed next.)

Have a fabulous, yummy weekend!! See you tomorrow!!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. I’m feeling a little whimsical today, hence:

I am going to write a bad poem about a good feeling.

Like a fresh coat of paint that immediately starts peeling.

Nothing deep, earnest, soulful or blue

Just a poem about feeling contented, it’s true.

Don’t start yawning or scrunching up your face in digust.

I’ve turned Sundays into making poetry writing a “must.”

So today I feel rested, silly, goofy, and pleased.

I hope that my poem doesn’t make you feel cheesed.

Take a breath, take a pause, and make a choice towards healing:

Write your own good/bad poem about your own good/bad feeling.

And then share it with me . . . .

Your glee is my glee.

You’ll see.

Wheee!

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Monday – Funday

credit: @woofknight, Twitter

That’s a pretty good rendition of my face right now. I’ve never understood why they decided to do the Super Bowl on Sundays. I had to get up and get dressed quickly this morning because exterminators are coming to make sure that they chased out the raccoon in our attic, before sealing everything back up. The other night, we (me, my husband and our three ‘fearsome’ dogs) were in bed in our master bedroom, when I heard what sounded like a SWAT team running on top of our roof. My husband snored, and all three of our dogs, who during the day, sound the alarm for anything that barely moves grass in our yard, were soundly snoring, as well. I woke up my husband. “Did you not hear that sound? I think that zombies are invading, for real!” I got persuaded to let it go, and to go back to sleep and for some crazy reason, I felt reassured by the fact that our dogs did not react to what I thought was alarming, thunderous sounds. Perhaps it was just a dream, despite the fact I hadn’t even fallen asleep yet . . . .

At least we got answers to our mystery the next day, when my husband noticed that something had viciously ripped out the metal gutters underneath our roof and made a hole to get into our attic right above our bedroom. We called an “animal control service” who told us it is likely a mama raccoon who needed to find a safe place to have her kits. How do you humanely evict of a protective, savage mama raccoon and her babies from your attic? It turns out that you spray male raccoon pee all over the area. Male raccoons will eat kits in order to mate again (they are not patient guys). Therefore when the mama raccoon smells the pee, she grabs her kits and she makes like a tree and gets out of there. (Back to the Future reference for those old enough and keen enough to remember) Thankfully, humans cannot smell raccoon pee because the animal control people were quite liberal in spreading that stuff around. Apparently, raccoon pee does not deter squirrels, however, as I saw a few curious little guys entering the hole to check out the newly vacated rental spot. It should make for an interesting Monday morning here.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Sink Your Teeth Into This

So yesterday, I went to the dentist, hat in hand. I have been having tooth pain for about two or three weeks now. I am not the best dental patient. Not even close. My teeth have had lots (and lots) of work. I warned my husband that I would probably be out of touch for most of the afternoon because my guess was that my dentist was going to send me to the endodontist for a root canal.

They got me into the chair. They took an X-ray and I dejectedly waited for the doomful report. “Wow! This is a rare thing! I’ve only seen this one other time in my entire career. I can even remember the patient’s name (Ramon), this is how rare it is!” my dentist (who is several years older than me) exclaimed, calling all of his hygienists in, to look at my X-ray with him. “Should I be worried right now?” I asked my dentist, with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“No!” he said kindly, patting my hand. Bottom line is that it turns out that I have bone growth, which was my body’s immune reaction to a previously decayed tooth. This bone growth was pushing into one of my tooth’s roots, causing my pain. Everything in my mouth is healthy. There is no decay. Apparently this bone growth only occurs in about two percent of people, and it is a mark of a super strong immune system. All that my dentist had to do was to file down some of my molars and to (once again) remind me to wear a night guard when I sleep. My pain was from grinding my teeth which forced this bone growth to irritate the root of my tooth. I was out of the dentist’s office and free to go home within 20 minutes. I am pain free this morning.

Molar of the story (wonk wonk): Don’t always assume the worst.

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.