In the matter of less than six months, three members of our combined extended families have lost their spouses to sudden deaths. All three of these people who died were in their fifties and younger. This has been a lot to consider and to digest and to process. It has been a stark reminder to me of just how short life really is, and how important it is to savor all of it. In times of sorrow and of pain and of uncertainty, which since the pandemic started, seems to be more of the norm than it ever was before (at least in my own life), it really helps to be reminded of all of the good and the love and the wonder that still surrounds us. These two recent news stories filled me with hope for humanity.
The first was the story of the Polish women who left their strollers waiting for the Ukrainian refugee mothers who were coming into Poland, at the train station platforms. I am sure seeing those strollers meant so much more to these refugee mothers, than just the use of much needed baby strollers. It was a message of hope, and of love, and of empathy, and of unity, like nothing that we could ever convey in words:
The second inspiring news story is about a hotline created by a couple of teachers and their elementary students to uplift people who need to feel some hope and some joy. It is called “Peptoc.” I called the number this morning and I picked the option to hear children’s laughter. Is there a more beautiful sound in this world? I think not. The number is here: 707-998-8410 I may keep it on speed dial. Here is the article:
Sundays are devoted to poetry on the blog. I can think of no more appropriate a poem for today than this classic by Emily Dickinson. Let hope, peace, and love reign.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
I don’t believe that there is any decent writer who isn’t also an avid reader. Most days before I start writing, I do a fair amount of reading. Interestingly, no matter how randomly I seem to choose my reading materials in the morning: news stories, essays, book chapters, tweets, horoscopes, old journal entries of my own, text exchanges, magazine articles etc., a common theme often seems to evolve. Today, from my various readings, I jotted down these ideas that seemed to be “the message” which my most intuitive self was trying to bring to the forefront of my mind and into the guidance of my everyday life:
Don’t fixate on the negative.
Enjoy and fully appreciate the everyday modest delights in life.
Keep it simple.
One of my readings this morning included this quote:
“A multitude of small delights constitutes happiness.” – Charles Baudelaire
This morning, not long after I jotted the French poet’s astute quote down into another one of my almost full leather bound notebooks (On an aside, I consider these notebooks of mine to be some of my greatest treasures in life. These ever-evolving notebooks contain thoughts and wisdoms that provoke my own thinking, and they guide me and inspire me to my own innate wisdom and peace. These personal treasure boxes are available for anyone who can read and who can think and who can feel, to create and to accumulate and to savor. If you don’t have a “thought museum” journal/notebook/scrapbook, start one today. They are like potato chips. You won’t be able to stop at just one.), I started reading another excellent article by the New Zealander, Karen Nimmo. Karen Nimmo is a psychologist and a prolific writer and this particular excerpt from her article stood out to me, and enforced and validated this one main message that seems to be the theme of my reading today:
“Life is challenging, that’s the deal we all sign on for. But if you find one thing — one thing — that gets you excitedeven in small doses, one thing that makes you come alive, preserve it. Nurture it. Build it. Sneak back to it. Invest in it. Because it’ll be there for you all the days of your life.” – Karen Nimmo
I have often thought that if I am fortunate enough to grow old and feeble, I hope that I will always have the ability to read, and hopefully, even to write. (More than once, I have even pictured little old lady me, perched in her comfy bed, in the nursing home, reading to her heart’s content, all day long until it’s time for dinner, and then I even hope to be able to read, while I am eating my dinner.) Reading gets me excited, evenin small doses. So does writing. Writing makes me come alive. And so every morning, as Nimmo suggests, I preserve these activities. I nurture them. I prioritize them. I sneak back throughout the day to look at my blog, and to read any comments, and to read other various written communications that have caught my fancy. I invest in these activities on a daily basis, because they are an investment in my own happiness and fulfillment and feeling of purpose. My happiness and excitement and contentment is positive energy that spills out to my home environment, and to my family, and to my pets, and to my friends, and to my community and to my world. My investment in my deepest, truest self (even in small doses) ends up being my gift of joy to the world. Win-win. What is “that thing”, that “one thing” that makes you come alive? What’s that “one thing” that brings out your most beautiful, positive, alive and happy energy, so that when you do “that thing”, it only adds to the bank of positive energy that our world so desperately needs right now? Whatever that activity is for you, doing “that thing” is your gift to yourself, to your family, to your friends, to your community and to your world. You owe it to yourself, and you owe it to all of the rest of us, to do that thing that makes you feel the most alive, even if it is only in small doses. In a world where we are facing a horrific crisis that has absolutely no winners, we need loads and loads more of the magnificent, light-filled, uplifting, excited, loving, positive energy that is a “win-win” for all of us. As Nimmo says, find “your thing”. “Preserve it. Nurture it. Build it. Sneak back to it. Invest in it.” Do it for yourself. Do it for all of us.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
“Sadness is the soul’s way of saying this mattered.” – (from the video above), Jane’s “Ted Talk from Bed Talk”
I, like so many others, was a little bit soul-shattered to hear of Jane’s (Nightbirde) passing over this past weekend. I thought that Jane was incredible – the epitome of beauty, inside and outside. Her voice and her music were amazing, but her writing and her wisdom is what touched the depths of my being. I read recently that we all want to live a long life and to have a short death, and Jane didn’t get either of these. Still, Nightbirde persevered and she inspired millions all around the world, to do the same, and to remain in awe of the beauty in life, all around us. Jane often used the hashtag phrase, #SeeJaneWin. She did win. She won at life by living life fully, and honestly, and earnestly, and faithfully, and hopefully and authentically. She didn’t cheat herself from experiencing “the all of it All.” And she inspired so many others to do the same.
I’ve read a lot of the comments, outpouring on Nightbirde’s Instagram in these past hours after the announcement of her passing. Jane energized many people to keep on going, during their own trials, and health failings, and dark moments in their own lives. So many people testified to this fact. So many people consider Jane to be “an angel on Earth.” One person wrote R.I.P., RETURN IF POSSIBLE. I like that version of R.I.P. We need more Janes in this world. Jamal Edwards, a young, influential rapper, and writer from the United Kingdom recently passed in the last couple of days, as well. He is credited with this thought: “The goal is not to live forever, the goal is to make something that will.”
Our bodies will eventually turn to dust, and our things will be sold in estate auctions. Our only real, everlasting legacies are what and who we affected in this world. These actions are what create the ripples that move all across the waters that cover this entire world, and these collective actions form what we now call “history”. What we create, what we experience, and what we bring into fruition into this world are our gifts, and our endowments to the banks of inspiration, hope, wisdom, experience, strength, faith, beauty- all of the elements of life that others can draw off of, when needed. Our daily being is our one precious gift to this Tapestry of Life that is being created by all of us. We all have the ability to give the highest and fullest and truest forms of ourselves back to the banks of Life. That is our only goal: to give back to the world the only part of us that will last forever – Love.
Honestly, these past few weeks, I have been feeling really good. But one of my good friends from college is having one of those weeks in which everything that could go wrong, is going wrong. It’s at the point where I can tell that she’s almost embarrassed to tell us, her friends, what else has gone wrong, because it’s almost become unbelievable, to have that many things go wrong in a short span of just a few days. I texted her a mantra which I’ve used to get myself through my rough spots, my entire adult life, “Just hang on. One Day at a Time. The clouds always pass.”
As my regular readers know, last fall, I may have experienced the worst time of my life, to date. Our youngest son’s epileptic seizures were not being controlled by medication, and he was having major seizures, at least once a week (after experiencing many seizure free years). Our son had to come home from his university, and stay with us. Ask a 21-year-old man what it feels like to be “babysat” by his parents. Ask a 51-year-old woman what it feels like to fear for her child’s life on a daily basis. Both answers would be nothing short of “pure hell.”
However, as scared as the superstitious part of me is to write this, our clouds have passed on, from that dark period of this past fall. Our son’s new cocktail of medication has kept him seizure free for a couple of months now. He is back at his university. And I am starting to let myself exhale. I am also reflecting on how different I feel right now, in this moment, than how I felt back then. I clearly understand now, that I was pretty depressed last fall. I was just surviving to get to the next day. The contrast in my optimism, my energy levels, and my overall excitement for future goals and plans, from where I was this past fall, is night and day. I have gone through some harrowing, dark periods before in my lifetime, but going through last fall, desperately worrying about the well-being of my baby, was probably the darkest that I have ever felt, in my entire life. At the very least, it is the “freshest” dark period, in my mind’s eye.
Those of you who are suffering from depression, I want you to know that I empathize with you. It is such a draining, harrowing, soul injuring, exhausting, frustrating experience. And honestly, I was never diagnosed or medicated for depression, during this past fall’s upsetting events. So if it gets even darker than how I felt (such as a clinical depression), my heart bleeds for you. Know this: You are strong. You are brave. This is not your fault. You deserve better. Do whatever you need to do, to get help to feel better. And please know that “The clouds always pass”. I’m experiencing the blue skies right now, after the storm of my lifetime has passed. I am not so naïve to believe that I won’t have more storms roll through, but I have proven to myself, once again, that I have the faith and the fortitude to get to the other side of storms. And so do you. Believe it. Hang on. One Day at a Time. The storms always, always pass. They always do. And even through all of the destruction that the storms wreak, they do leave tiny, little unexpected lessons and gifts in their wake. If nothing else, the storms leave you with the gift of the realization that you are stronger than you ever believed yourself to be, and the joy in savoring the feelings of relief, and peace, and even some happiness, as you bask in your blue sky moments, with your face tilted towards the sunshine.
Yesterday morning, right after I published my blog, I took my dogs outside. My phone rang and I saw that it was our middle son calling. I knew what he was going to say before I even said “hello.” He and my youngest son had gone to a local park to play in a pick-up soccer game. My youngest son had an epileptic seizure on the field, in the middle of the game. I am grateful that my middle son was with my youngest son during this time. My middle son is a student in medical school and he, like the rest of our family, has witnessed many of his little brother’s seizures. In fact, my middle son witnessed my youngest son having his first major seizure, when my middle son was driving them both to their high school, many years ago. He attributes that experience as one of the major reasons why he decided to go into medicine. My middle son knows what to do when a seizure happens. He took good care of his brother, as always. The local EMT crew came. They know us by name now. They took good care of my son, as always. Luckily, since they were on the grass, and his brother was with him, my youngest son wasn’t greatly hurt, just some sore muscles and a scratched up face from some pebbles in the grass. He came home to recover from his seizure. He came home to my waiting arms.
My regular readers know that we have been going through hell this fall with my son’s epilepsy. His seizures are currently not being well-controlled by medicine. In September and October, my son suffered at least one major seizure a week, landing him in the hospital three times. He is currently taking five different anti-seizure medications, as doctors scour for a medication combo and a dosage, that works to keep the seizures controlled. We were cautiously optimistic that we had finally found that holy grail of medications, because this November, our son was almost one-month seizure free. Yesterday ended that streak.
I feel horrible today. I felt horrible yesterday. I feel deflated, dejected and scared out of my mind. But, honestly, I felt wonderful throughout our Thanksgiving break with our family. I felt pretty good the week before Thanksgiving break. I even felt pretty good the week before the week before Thanksgiving break. I sometimes cautioned myself that “I was setting myself up for a big fall,” with all of my hopeful optimism, but I didn’t care. It felt so good to feel good again.
During Thanksgiving break, our family, all six of us, had a great time together. We cooked, we shopped, we went to the movies, we even went boating. My youngest son went to the gym with his brothers, and golfing with his buddies who were home for Thanksgiving break. I won’t pretend that I didn’t have nervous moments. I won’t pretend that I stopped being hyper-aware of any strange noises in the house. I won’t pretend that I didn’t keep my son on a strict medication schedule. But I relaxed, I laughed, I savored. I had so much fun. I felt so much joy.
And today I feel so, so sad, but during the rest of November, I mostly felt ease and comfort and relief, because I let myself feel those better feelings. If I had stayed miserable and fearful and depressed and angry, all of November, yesterday’s seizure would have still happened. Despite what we erroneously believe, worry doesn’t stop any negative experiences from happening. Worry doesn’t help anything at all, and we all know this, but I got a very clear example of this fact, taught to me with this lucid life experience. I am thankful that I let myself enjoy a nice, and hopeful month, because I would have still felt so, so sad today, even if I had fretted and worried and been miserable for the whole month of November.
I say to you this: if you are in a budding new relationship that you are enjoying, savor it. Experience this relationship fully and excitedly, without fretting if and when it is going to end. If you have lost a lot of weight, be proud of yourself. Delight in your triumph. Don’t spend time worrying if you are going to gain all of the weight back. If things are going well in your job, with your family, with your friends, with your health, with your bank account, with your life, soak it all in. Enjoy the good! Facts are, upsetting, negative things happen in life sometimes. That’s just the way of life. No one is immune. Save feeling lousy for those times. Save it up, and rightfully feel miserable when you are in the middle of a rough patch. But don’t let those awful feelings seep into your good times. Let your bad times, make your good times feel that much more amazing and glorious and precious. You are strong enough to handle adversity, and wise enough to know that by feeling happiness in the good times, you are giving yourself something to look forward to, when you are in the middle of experiencing your hard times. Give yourself the gift of savoring life in the moment.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
When I’m feeling particularly lowly, I dig a big old deep introverted rabbit hole and I go down to the bottom of it and I hang out there. It makes me feel safe. Luckily, I like my own company – even the frowny version. Mercifully, the people whom I love the most, get that about me. They don’t force me to crawl back up, before it’s time. Occasionally, I hear some shouts from the top of my rabbit hole, and a long rope, with a bucket attached to it, is lowered down, and the people who love me most attach little notes and texts, telling me that I can stay down here, as long as I need to, but in the meantime, here are some cards and gifts and reminders that when I decide to crawl back up towards the light of the sunshine, there will be people waiting for me, who care about me, up at the top. If that’s not hope and love, I don’t know what is. Thank you. I love you. I’m just recharging down here. It’s all going to be okay. I’ll be back up soon!
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Hi friends! Welcome to Favorite Things Friday. On Fridays, I typically keep things “light” and I list three favorite things or songs or TV shows or books, etc. that have added sparkle and excitement to my world. Please check out previous Friday postings for loads of my favorite things. Today, however, I only have one favorite to share. Lately, while trying to get my son’s epileptic seizures under control, and yet also trying to keep things as “normal” and as “sane” as they can be at this time for myself and for my family, my mind hasn’t been focused on the fluff and stuff of life. We are keeping a simple, quiet, uncluttered routine here in my realm, lately. We are taking things ODAT here (One Day at a Time, Sweet Jesus). ODAT is what always works for me best in any crisis period.
So without further adieu, my favorite for today, comes from a post on Nightbirde’s Instagram. I have listed Nightbirde on a previous Friday Favorites blog post. Nightbirde is the insanely gifted and inspirational singer who is currently struggling to survive her third bout with cancer. While Nightbirde is a wonderful and talented singer and songwriter, I believe that her prose writing skills are devastatingly good. This post of hers is one of my most favorite pieces of writing that I have read in a long time. Enjoy:
A journalism professor in a long gray sweater taught me the difference between a story worth writing and a public relations stunt. A real story still has meaning even if no one ever hears it; a PR stunt only matters if people are watching.
And that became a new item on the list of promises to myself: That I would never let my life become a public relations stunt. My life would have meaning, even if no one ever knew it. I wanted to write a story I was proud of, even if nobody read it.
I used to dream that I’d grow up and dazzle the world. But time and disappointment chipped away at me until only the real stuff was left, and it wasn’t very dazzling. I just had some sad stories and a sack of regrets, and a new reverence for the pieces of me that survived.
All of these shipwrecks have stranded me in desolate places where I stared at my hands and realized that I couldn’t offer the world what I had hoped to. Dreams shatter, and eyelashes fall out, and lungs aren’t big enough to carry the song sometimes.
But I still wake up in the morning and draw my hopes on the sidewalk. And every time so far, they’ve been trampled over, or hosed off, or the rain rolled all of it over the curb.
But I pick more flowers, write more stories, dream more dreams. After all that’s been destroyed, maybe it’s foolish to still be speaking this way, but at least I’m a fool with a soul alive. I swing open the doors on my chest and I offer to the world the only thing that I can: myself. I get it now.
We are not all we wish we were, but we are here, and we are trying, and we are awake. We are not public relations stunts. We are stories worth hearing, even with no crowd in the stands for us. We are the heroes. We are the poem, we are the song, we are the gift.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
We were at the hospital all yesterday afternoon. Again. My son sprained his shoulder while having another seizure. My regular readers know that my youngest son has epilepsy. And currently his seizures are not being controlled by medicine. My son is totally drained. My husband is totally drained. I am totally drained. I know that things could be worse. I know that there are many others who have it a lot worse, even with epilepsy. I know that I have been blessed in so many other ways, but right now I am honestly too numb to care. I am thankful that my son is alive. I am thankful that we have more medicines to try, and more medicine combinations to try, and more doctors and specialists to see. I am thankful that we have the means to pay for these opportunities. When there is life, there is always hope. But right now, I am totally drained. It is exhausting to even type this blog post. I believe that the storms always pass in life, but right now my family is stuck in a standstill doozy of a non-moving hurricane. And I am totally drained.
It’s been nice and cool here the last couple of days. (70s is cold weather here) I’m loving it. The sun is smiling sweetly on us, instead of scorching us with the deathrays of Florida summers. It’s honestly like a switch has been flipped. I want to put a proverbial piece of masking tape over that switch with “Do Not Touch” sharpied on the tape. I am feeling hopeful this Monday. I wish the same for you.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
