In Your Favor Friday

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Happy Friday!!! Happy Favorite Things Friday!!! Happy Black Friday!! As I mentioned last year, as much as I love shopping (as an aside, when I was showing my son’s girlfriend something in my closet yesterday, she looked around it wide-eyed and said, “Shoe Goals.” – I do love my shoes!), I don’t do Black Friday shopping. I just don’t do crowds very well. The great thing that I noticed last night, while shutting down my computer (I’m highly distractible) is that the retailers are expanding Black Friday to a great on-line presence comparable to Cyber Monday, so I did make a couple orders here and there. I would love to hear what some of you scored today, in the Comments section (and hopefully no physical harm came to you, while making your amazing purchases)

New readers, Fridays are never serious here at Adulting – Second Half. On Fridays, I discuss three favorite things, ideas, websites, songs, etc. that make material life a lot of fun. Please see previous Fridays for other favorites and please always be prone to sharing your own favorites in the Comments section.

Since I cannot compete with Black Friday and the amazing products just waiting to be gobbled up, I have limited my favorites today, to the three best bumper stickers that I have noticed lately on other cars, which have been particularly apropos while my youngest child, and only daughter, continues to learn how to drive. Remember, everyone else on the road is NOT just an ass driving a car and double parking in over-crowded parking lots, they are also someone’s beloved partner, spouse, child, sibling, grandparent, parent, teacher, etc. etc. etc. Let’s make a point of keeping everyone safe during this highly distractible time of year.

Best bumper stickers (driving rules simplified):

Use Ya Blinkah!

Don’t Be a Bumper Humper

Dick Likes to Text and Drive, Don’t Be a Dick

And a reminder to passengers:

Driver Picks Music, Shotgun Shuts Cakehole

Have a great, fun, pleasantly exhausting Friday!! Ending with some inspiring quotes from the Hunger Games:

“This is no place for a girl on fire”
Katniss Everdeen

“I am not pretty. I am not beautiful. I am as radiant as the sun.”
Katniss Everdeen

All is Well

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Happy Thanksgiving, my wonderful faithful friends and readers! You are appreciated and loved, more than you could ever understand. Thank you so very much for being part of the moment that I get so excited to experience every single morning. I love sitting down to pour out my heart and my inspirations and my ideas and my silliness and my reflections and my confusions. And you hear me! And you support me! And you nod along with me! And you shake your head at me! What a blessing and a gift that you give to me, by acknowledging my blog. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

This blog is not a chore for me. It is a big part of my heart. It is my blossoming of a part of me that was dormant for so long and is coming into the light, and everyone who has supported this blog has been such a crucial part of that process for me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

You are kind. You are caring. You are interesting and connected to life. I am blessed to have you come into my life. I am blessed to feel a sacred connection to each and every one of you.

Okay enough mushy mush! Go enjoy a wonderful day of family and friends and parades, and dog shows, and feasting (and the wonderful anticipatory smells that come before the feasting) and napping and more feasting! I have overheard it said, at least a dozen times this season, from various people who I have interacted with, that Thanksgiving is their favorite holiday. It IS such a wonderful holiday. Thanksgiving is quiet, peaceful, warm, unassuming, mindful, simple, cozy, comforting, loving, unpretentious, humble, virtuous, awe-striking . . . . what’s not to love about this holiday, and yet Thanksgiving does not beg us to love it or to even acknowledge it. It just soothingly invites us in, with arms wide open. In a world which sometimes seems increasingly faster, noisier, attention grabbing, glitzier, angrier, more isolated and divisive than ever before, Thanksgiving is the reminder that at the core of everything, there is a simple, grateful peace that remains steady. Thanksgiving is a reminder that life is abundant and flowing and pulsing, like a regular, soothing, calming heartbeat, enclosed in a warm, clean, soft blanket of the deep intuitive knowing, that in every moment of stillness, at the quiet center of everyone and everything, All is Well.

As the Mother Goes

“I hope this year has a good ending.” – FofF (Twitter)

Me, too. On a side note, I love the author’s pen name, “FofF”. Our wonderful lawn maintenance guy is named Ed. His business is called Ed’s. Whenever we need him to do something extra in our yard, I love to say out loud, “I need to call Ed of Ed’s!” It just cracks me up for some reason. I even look for things for Ed to do, so that I can say out loud, “I need to call Ed of Ed’s!”

This weekend I got a little friendly reminder/kick in the pants from a girlfriend on a text chat. We were all ranting about everything that we have to do for the holidays. Now this friend has been mothering for about a decade longer than I have, and she even has a grandchild. She is very wise. She said something to the effect, “Ladies, we only get so many
Thanksgivings and Christmases in our lives . . . . As the mother goes, so does the holiday.”

It’s so true, isn’t it? Who can’t relate to the saying, “When Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy”? Perhaps focusing a little less on what needs to be done and more so, on who needs to be loved (including ourselves), would make the holidays even more pleasant and memorable for everyone. Of course on that same chat, another friend quoted an article that was discussing a study that showed that socializing with extended family and friends makes the average person long for peace and quiet within 3 hours and 54 minutes.

So while socializing this holiday season, after about 4 hours or so, (a little less or a little more, depending on how introverted or extroverted you may be), here is my prescription for you (and for me). Go to your special place, by yourself, ideally outside in nature, but perhaps you can just conjure it up in your mind. Take some deep breaths and take ” . . .time to step out into a season – something to do with what John Muir called ‘washing your spirit clean.’ ” (Robert Genn) I think that taking the time to “washing your spirit clean” would be an excellent gift to give to ourselves and thus, it naturally becomes an extended gift, that of being of clean spirit, as we spend time over the holidays, with the people whom we love and cherish.

*****FYI, from Wikipedia:

John Muir also known as “John of the Mountains” and “Father of the National Parks”, was an influential Scottish-American naturalist, author, environmental philosopher, glaciologist, and early advocate for the preservation of wilderness in the United States of America.

Open, Honest and Real

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In this day and age, the above principle is a tough ship to navigate. I feel like I know three camps of people: people who epitomize the acronym “TMI” and let it all hang out, to just about everyone they see, meet or greet in real life and on-line, and then they are utterly shattered when they are used or taken advantage of; then there are the people who are so private, so completely protected by a wafting sense of mystery and secrecy, leaving everyone who meets them totally frustrated, always yearning to find the hole to scratch and find the actual beating heart and true, open, flowing emotions, under the veneer of steely, calculated collectedness; and finally, there are a vast amount of people who work desperately to keep up and preserve a cheerful, carefree image for everyone, online and offline to see, but in person, seem to be staving off a loneliness and a yearning for connection, underneath the flimsy, cardboard, surface-y, semblance of it all. I think that I have vacillated in between all three of these camps, for most of my life.

People who read my blog often comment on the fact that I don’t mention my family members’ names. People who know some of the major crises I have experienced in my life (by this middle time in life, we all have gone through at least one or two “major biggies”), are sometimes curious why I don’t choose to write about these events. The reality is, I’m still navigating my ship of disclosure, trying to find the waters that are comfortable to me. At the same time, I am not a pirate. I respect the other ships on the sea, and I steer clear of their own private, personal journeys. Their journeys are not mine, and their ships are made to sail along different waters, than where I am headed. Even if we do find ourselves in the same pool of calm or stormy seas, I can only speak for my part of the adventure. How I am experiencing the waves and the turbulence, and even the calm, still waters, may be different than the other ships, because they are built differently that I am, and they carry different cargo and baggage than I do.

In the end, as important as authenticity is to me, and as much as I value real, heartfelt connection, I value the relationships at the sacrosanct table of my life, far more than anything. It’s a fine line to cross and to navigate, especially as a writer. Recently, I was telling my husband how frustrated I am by the fact that my life feels so full of little, aggravating interruptions and I often wish that I could disappear for vast amounts of time, to just focus on writing. But then the “aha moment” came to me, that all of my writing comes from my day-to-day experiences and my interactions with the people at “my table” and even the people standing around the table or even with the people, in the far corners of the rooms of my life. These experiences are priceless to my understanding of myself and thus the extension of myself, my sacred practice of writing, which helps me make sense of that deeper understanding of myself.

Today, with this honest, candid inside view of my thought/writing experience, I have invited you, my faithful friends and readers, to some very special seats, at my table. Thank you for taking the seat, and allowing me to share. I hope that you will sit and stay awhile, and I promise to keep your seat empty for you, when you return again. It is then that I will give you the same warm smile that I wear on my face right now, thankful for your place settings, in my life, making me feel worthy, understood and connected and open and honest and real.

It’s Friday, You Turkey!

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Happy Friday, my dear readers!!!! It is not only Friday, it is Favorite Things Friday!!! Can I get a “Gobble, Gobble?!?” Friends, we don’t get into the depths on Friday here at Adulting – Second Half. On Fridays, I typically list three favorite songs, books, products, websites, apps, etc. and I encourage you to add your favorites to the Comments section. This will be particularly helpful, as we all will be doing our Christmas shopping in the next few weeks. Please check out previous Friday posts for more goodies. Without further ado, here are today’s favorites:

mint&lily Remember Who You Are Cuff bracelet – I ordered one of these for my daughter and it arrived over the weekend. She loves it and I love it! It is very nice quality. Inside the cuff are the engraved words: “Whenever you feel overwhelmed . . . remember whose daughter you are and straighten your crown” My daughter wore it yesterday, when she had to take five exams. I like to think that it helped calm her anxiety a bit, and at the very least, she knows that I am with her, always.

Gemmy Industries Animated Baby Goat – Every year I add to our collection of cheesy animated Christmas trinkets. We have a hound dog that sings “I’ll Have a Blue Christmas”, a naughty, flirty, French mistletoe man and a Christmas Tree that shakes and whirls like nobody’s business. This year might be our best addition yet. This little guy wears cute pjs, a Santa hat with a matching scarf, and is a “live” version of the screaming goats that are very popular on social media. He appropriate sings “Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire“, while intermittently screaming. My dogs can’t stand him, but I am not even close to being sick of him, yet. I hope that his batteries have lasting power.

Honey app – This app really appeals to the lazy in me. They call it the “smart, shopping assistant.” Honey, when you are shopping on-line, you no longer have to look for promo codes. This app will add every appropriate promo code that it can find, to your order before you check out. It’s already saved me quite a bit of money, honey. (and I have tested it, by looking up promo codes first to see if the app will find it. It has, so far!)

Enjoy a nice weekend!!! I’m so thankful for all of your support!! xo

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The Lesson of the Trees

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****Above is another great one from Think Smarter, my favorite Twitter feed of all-time.

Every morning, on the drive to school, my daughter and I ride through a street that is canopied by trees. It is like a long, beautiful tree tunnel and I look forward to driving through it, every single day. This tree-lined lane is one of those lovely places that is probably roped off from time to time, so that people can have beautiful, natural wedding processions and celebrations, underneath the comforting shade and protection that these majestic trees so ably provide. It is interesting to me that these trees are firmly rooted, on directly opposite sides of the road. They are big, strong, solid trees that have weathered many Florida storms and even hurricanes, together. And although they sit on complete opposite sides of the road, they look to be almost exactly the same. They all carry the same tree DNA.

By far, the most exquisite part of these lovely trees, is the canopy of delicate, yet sturdy sunlit leaves and branches, that they have created, where they come together in gambrel fashion. It is breathtaking, how desperately these trees seem to want to meet in the center, as the highest part of each of these trees, reach for each other, in a deep yearning stretch. It just seems so natural and correct, for them to want to find each other in the center of the road. And where these awe-inspiring trees finally do meet, their coming together, at the highest place – oh my, their creation looks almost as lovely a rooftop, as does the beautiful, vast, starry night sky.

We have so much to learn from the wise, old, sensible trees.

Minutes of Unrest

Good one from Think Smarter (Twitter) this morning:

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My husband and I watched 60 Minutes last night. I have a love/hate relationship with 60 Minutes, because I love the unique stories that the show presents, yet the show really stirs me up emotionally. Too much. Last night, I felt muddled wondering if mining our ocean bottom is really an answer to prayers and a wonderful, vast, unexplored resource, or the last natural environment on Earth that we have left to destroy. I just don’t know. And then the story about Sesame Street making a special TV show, especially for the children who have grown up in tents in refugee camps in the Middle East (miraculously, many of these tents have satellite dishes), touched me to tears, but then, it also made me sick to my stomach, imagining one child, much less thousands, growing up in those fields of desperation. I then found my thoughts wandering over to my shallow side, getting hypercritical about Lesley Stahl’s earring choices and her moppy hair style, which spurred me into some curiosity about Lesley’s age. Lesley Stahl is 77 years old!! She is still an interesting (because she, herself, is curious and interested), sharp, objective reporter. Lesley Stahl has written a book about how much she loves being a grandparent, and she and I share the exact same birth date. Shame on me. Lesley Stahl can wear her hair and her earrings any damn way that she wants. Lesley Stahl is awesome. Simply awesome. Back on the pedestal, she goes. (See, I told you, 60 Minutes puts me in a conflicted state of mind, which is not a restful way to end the week.) 60 Minutes should NOT be aired on Sunday nights. But, it is a good contrast to and break from football . . . . . and then, the conflicted mind continues on and on and on . . . .

Sunday Soul

I’ve been haughty and I’ve been humble.

Humble feels better.

I’ve been valid and I’ve been vulnerable.

Vulnerable feels more connected.

I’ve been smart, salty and sassy.

But that was all to cover and soothe

My sweet simple soul.

I dined by myself last night.

Table for one.

It was

Delicious.

“Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.” – William Wordsworth

“Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. ” – Thomas Gray

Readers, I’m feeling like today is a good day for poetry. Please take the time to write down the poetry flowing from your heart today and please post it to my Comments section, if you have the inclination. Love, peace and poetry are my wishes for you today. Tranquility.

Conversation Starter

My youngest son called me up the other day, with a nervous tone in his voice. One of his best friends from high school, a boy whom we all adore, but who definitely has some wilder tendencies, was visiting my son at his university last weekend. (they go to different schools) I held my breath wondering what my son’s confession was going to be, and I instantly was wracking my brain as to what the boys might have gotten themselves into, in their youthful exuberance.

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me,” my son stammered.

This is the time in the conversation when I wanted to scream, “Just spit it out, dammit!!” Many times in previous years, I have screamed those very words to all four of my darling children, during times of high hormonal content in my bloodstream mixed with bad sleep from the previous night, but this time, my son actually caught me at a calm, post- relaxing, meditative moment, so I remained quiet and patient.

It turns out that my son wants to change his major to a less practical major, one which really interests him much more. Phew. Exhale. Sigh of relief.

“You could NEVER disappoint me, except in moments that you would deliberately hurt yourself or hurt other people from bad intentions and actions,” was my first and instant response. We then had a nice conversation, weighing the pros and cons of his decision to change his course of studies. Me, being the forever dreamer/optimist, focused a little heavy on the “pros”, whereas his father, who is visiting the boys this weekend for his brother’s annual fraternity “Dads’ Weekend” and is far more practical and level-headed, will probably focus a little bit more on the “cons”, when he has breakfast with my youngest son this morning. (My husband and I balance each other out quite well, in that way.) Still, in the end, it is my son’s decision with what direction that he wants to take his life, and I trust that he will find the right answer for himself.

“Honor thy father and mother” is one of those biblical edicts that has caused stomachs to churn for centuries. It cropped up in my head, as I felt the disappointment in myself, that my son feared talking about his major change with me. Everyone has a different idea of what “honor thy father and mother” actually really means. Now that I have been a parent for almost 24 years, I have seen this edict from all different angles and I feel more firmly in my ideas about that edict, than I ever have before.

My husband and I chose to bring four children into this world. We did this for us. We wanted the experience of parenting. We wanted to build a family together. My children’s beautiful souls graciously accepted the challenge of being our children, despite not asking to be born. They have fulfilled their commitment to us, by allowing us the magnanimous experience of raising them. I am honored. I am more than honored, by that fact. I am utterly grateful. I hope to have a satisfying relationship with all of my children and their families for the rest of our lives, but that is up to all of us, as adults, to be healthy, considerate, loving people, who have and who accept healthy boundaries – people who anyone would want to have a satisfying relationship with. When we are adults, it becomes a mutual thing. There are no “shoulds.” I am not a selfless martyr. I chose to have my children. I also have a life outside of my family and that is important for all of us, for all of our ultimate growth experiences in Life. I do not care to have any relationships with any other people that are heavily based on fear, guilt, control, obligation or shame – not my children, not my husband, not my extended family, not my friends, not even with myself or with God. I choose authenticity. I choose healthy Love.

I think that it is very sad to use the Bible to make excuses or pardons for inflicting our ugly behavior (without repentance), the kind of negative behavior that we sometimes and most often, inflict on the people who are the closest to us – the people whom we love the most. I read something recently that said the true way that we honor our parents and our family name is basically, by not being a jerk. We dishonor our parents by leading lives filled with deceitful, criminal activities. “Honoring” speaks nothing of the intricacies and delicacies of a mutually satisfying relationship.

I know that not everyone sees things the way that I do. I am comfortable with that. I love the variety in this world. It has taken me a long time (probably most of my life) to figure out my current life philosophy and I understand that this current philosophy is more than likely to evolve and to grow and to change, as I do. The people whom I most intimate with in life with, are also in the ever-changing process of growth and unfolding. I respect that. My conversation with my son this week, spurned a lot more thought, introspection, and contemplation than just my opinion on his career goals. It is said that relationships are “people growers” and I like to think that my son and I both experienced some healthy individual growth from our conversation. This individual growth helps the garden of our relationship to continue to bloom in a healthy, satisfying way for both of us, a relationship with its roots being firmly planted in the deep, rich, nourishing soil of authentic Love.

The Worry Fix

“Any concern too small to be turned into a prayer is too small to be made into a burden.” – Corrie ten Boom

Quotes also attributed to Corrie ten Boom, a Dutch watchmaker and a writer, who, with her family members, helped many Jews escape the Nazi Holocaust, by hiding them in her home:

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.

When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the engineer.

I had read these quotes, many times before, but I had never heard of Corrie ten Boom. When I looked her up, I thought that she would have been Native American, truthfully, because of her unusual last name. Her most famous writing is the book called The Hiding Place, based on her family’s experience of helping the Jews in the Netherlands. Corrie ten Boom’s entire family was eventually arrested by the Gestapo and imprisoned for their being part of “the resistance movement.” Her father and her sister died while they were detained in the camps towards the end of World War II.

This is one of my favorite quotes from the Wikipedia page about Corrie ten Boom:

“Ten Boom was initially held in solitary confinement. After three months, she was taken to her first hearing. At her trial, ten Boom spoke about her work with the mentally disabled; the Nazi lieutenant scoffed, because the Nazis had been killing mentally disabled individuals for years in accordance with their eugenics policies. Ten Boom defended her work by saying that in the eyes of God, a mentally disabled person might be more valuable “than a watchmaker. Or a lieutenant.”

I think that she was on to something there.

Corrie Ten Boom was a devout Christian, but this is an interesting quote about how her father felt about the importance of helping the Jews during World War II:

“A devoted reader of the Old Testament, he believed that the Jews were the “chosen people” and told the woman, “In this household, God’s people are always welcome”. The family then became very active in the Dutch underground hiding refugees and honoring the Jewish Sabbath. The family never sought to convert any of the Jews who stayed with them.”

When I write about God or prayers in my blog, I am not trying to convert anyone to any kind of thinking or belief system. I understand and respect that not everyone prays. There are many paths to God, and “God” holds different meaning for everyone. I believe that there are many paths to a Higher Power and I believe that most people have a higher power, even if that higher power is hard for an individual to conjure or to grasp and fully understand. I personally consider myself to be far more spiritual than I am religious.

I wrote the first quote in one of my inspirational journals because I am guilty of worrying way too much. About just about everything. I worry about how much that I worry. I pray a lot, too. About just about everything. I’ve been known to pray to God for guidance to a better air freshener. (By the way, the answer was Bath & Body Works Eucalyptus Mint plug-ins. They smell really good.) The first quote reminded me a lot about the story of the little boy whose father was the town’s Expert Toymaker. The little boy was very frustrated with his favorite toy, which had been broken for quite some time.

In anger and dismay, the little boy yelled to his father, “WHY haven’t you fixed MY TOY?!?!”

His father, the Expert, calmly answered, “You never put it into my hands to fix.”