Cat Woman

A friend of mine sent a screen shot to our group chat yesterday. (okay, I had to pause for a minute when I looked at my opening sentence.  That sentence would not have been even understood 10 years ago.  It might not have even been understood 5 years ago.  Funny, the winds of change.)  Anyway, the screen shot showed two beautiful, gray-haired ladies dressed artistically, almost “punk rockerly”.  The caption said: “20 Things Women Should Stop Wearing After The Age of 40 . . . .#1-20  The Weight of Other People’s Expectations and Judgments” – Wrong Turn at Albuquerque

I love my friends!  The friend who sent the screenshot said that maybe the age should have been changed to “30”.  I thought that maybe we could somehow make it so that there wouldn’t even have to be an age listed on that quote.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if our daughters or at least, granddaughters could look at that quote quizzically like it was meaningless and hard to understand?  (kind of like how meaningless and hard to understand my first opening sentence would have been to me 10 years ago)

My daughter looks adorable every day for school.  She started high school and although they don’t require “uniforms”, there is a “uniform” for the girls who attend her school.  Ripped jeans, Vans or Birkenstocks, straightened hair, tops that are not too short to break dress code, but right at that fine line seem to be “the uniform” right now.   That is the expectation if you want to be one of the crowd and to avoid being judged.

Recently we were reminiscing about the year that my daughter was a cat for Halloween and she decided that the costume was way too great to be worn just on the one day of Halloween.  She wore her ears and her tail for weeks and weeks.  She wore that costume to stores, to preschool, and to bed.  She wore that costume out.  She wore that costume with pride and dignity.  Other people’s expectations and judgments weren’t one thought in my 4-year-old daughter’s mind at all.  When does that shift occur?

It’s funny, but watching my kids grow up, it sometimes seems like they already had it all absolutely right when they were little and then we adults messed with them.  We helped them become uptight little robots conforming to society’s judgments and expectations.  They’ll play along with the rules of the game, until they reach our age and then they may get a screenshot that jars their memory that maybe “the rules of the game” are a little ridiculous.  And something inside of them that has been sitting dormant since they were innocent little kids in cat costumes at the grocery store, will come roaring out and life will get interesting again.  Hopefully that age of awakening will drop from 40 to 30 to not needed, because that future little girl will never have been a prisoner to what other people think.

 

Horse Pucky

Do you have a few stories that have happened in your life that are so hard to believe that if someone else told you that it happened to them you would say that it was “horse pucky”?  I imagine that we all do.  Here is one of mine:

Many years ago, I had a little white, soft, fluffy pet chinchilla.  She had a pen in a little area off of our garage where she liked to sleep, eat and take her dust baths.  One day, as I got my youngest son and his baby sister into the car to take my son to preschool, I noticed that the door to my little chin’s pen was open. We were in a rush so, I decided that I would look for her when I got home from taking my son to school.

I drove the 6.4 miles to my son’s preschool. (I just googled the distance, so I am not exaggerating) I got my son and my daughter who was in her cumbersome baby carrier out of the car and I guided my son into his classroom.  Now I am not sure if this was one of the days my son chose to take a “Flat Stanley” approach to the idea of going to school where eventually I would have to drag him into the school, with him refusing to cooperate and remaining “stiff as a board.”  It may have been a day that he happily skipped into school; I really don’t remember.  But anyway, I got him safely situated into his classroom with his bag and his lunch and then I got my daughter back safely situated into the backseat of the car, all ready for the 6.4 mile drive back home.

A couple miles from our home, I decided to stop at the drive-through window of our bank.  As I pulled into the parking lot and waited my turn, I noticed a little white spot that seemed to have leaped out from my wheel well.  It was scurrying around the parking lot.  It took me a minute, but it soon dawned on me that that little white ball of fur was my pet chinchilla.  I ran into the parking lot, and miraculously, as scared as she must have been, she allowed me to pick her up and cuddle her.  Now her fur definitely looked more “dalmatian” at that point due to the black grease spots that were now adorning her, but she wasn’t hurt and she lived for many years after that incident.

True story.  No horse pucky.

The Bagger

I watched with fascination a news story that came out this weekend about actor Geoffrey Owens (former Cosby Show regular) bagging groceries at a Trader Joe’s grocery store.  The fact that this was even a news story was amazing to me.  The initial story was thought to provoke shame that a once famous actor would now be in the position to bag groceries.  I was happy to see all of the outpouring and support that surrounded this hard working man doing an honest and worthwhile job in his community.

I had a lot of thoughts and reflections about this story.  Despite being college educated with a business degree that I earned early and with honors, most of the jobs that I have had outside of my home have been part-time and of the hourly paid variety.  When I was in high school and college, I worked in a deli, babysat, was a telemarketer, worked in a department store, worked for a temp agency, worked as a waitress, worked in a wire factory, etc. etc.  I had a professional sales job a few years out of college, but when my husband and I started our family and we decided that we wanted a big family, we made the decision that he would be the primary bread winner and I would be the primary home and family manager.  For many years, I didn’t take jobs outside of the home, but as the kids got older, more independent and busier, I decided I was a little bored and wanted to explore doing things in my community, but with the emphasis still being that my primary job was to be home for my kids, with the flexibility needed to work hours that still allowed for that focus and freedom.  These part-time jobs with a lot of flexibility tended to be hourly paid jobs that weren’t particularly prestigious or career enhancing, but enhanced my life in many other ways that are hard to measure.  Sometimes these part-time jobs really did help with the “extras” to help pay for vacations, and extracurricular activities for the kids, but sometimes these jobs may have even hurt us a little in the monetary sense.  Sometimes these jobs, which were amazing outlets and experiences for me, knocked us into the next tax bracket and probably dinged our income a little bit.

People work for all sorts of reasons.  I had a college professor that would insist to his students that once a certain level of needs are met, people don’t work for money.  Being young and inexperienced, we students would scoff at that statement but now I understand how completely true that statement is and how valuable the work experience is to people for so many reasons. Reasons like pride and purpose and vitality and connection and growth are some of what draws people to the jobs that they take and the jobs that they do.

My sons have all had different hourly-wage jobs over the years.  My eldest son who is now a tech company professional with a masters degree, often spouts out wisdom he learned from his fellow factory workers at an aerospace parts factory.  My middle son worked as a valet all summer and really got an understanding that a Porsche doesn’t always equate to a great tip, and a dented-up beater sometimes does.  I’ve always told my children that once you work a job that relies on tips, you’ll never be a lousy tipper the rest of your life.

I read recently that George Clooney gave away a million dollars each to a few of his buddies who provided him support, validation and sometimes a couch to sleep on when he was desperately trying to make it as a struggling actor.  As many responders to the Geoffrey Owens story said, most actors are not rich and do have jobs outside of acting to help support themselves.  I bet that if we watched the first couple of “break out” movies or TV shows of some of our finest and most famous actors, that is where we would see their best, most raw, amazing work.  Perhaps the low paying jobs that they were doing, best exposed them to their own humanity and others’ humanity like no other jobs can do.  If you are bagging groceries, you are being exposed to everyone in your community.  You are touching the lives of the whole spectrum of the people who make up a town – the young, the old, the rich, the poor, the healthy, the infirm, the white, the black, the Christians, the Muslims, the Jews, the professionals, the first responders, the list goes on and on.  Everyone has to eat.

Life has become so tech oriented that we barely have to leave our couches anymore.  It’s so easy to sit on the couch and call other people “out of touch” but really, perhaps the most “in touch” people in the world are doing the good work of bagging groceries, or serving coffee, or greeting us as we walk into our big box store.  I’m happy that there was a lot of backlash to that story, backlash to the fact that it even was “a story.”  That gives me hope that we as humans, haven’t lost sight of what really is important and what is really real in this world.

 

Real Cowboy

Yesterday my husband, our dogs and I set out on an “adventure day”. We like to hike so we headed out to some of the more rural state parks in our area.  The first stop was a bust.  Our first hike was more of a “sludge through mud” experience as due to a lot of recent rainstorms,  the trail had turned into more of a swamp.  Even one of the bridges on the trail was mostly under water.  My husband, my collie and I were less than pleased with the start of our adventure.  Our Labrador retriever was in doggy heaven.  He’d much rather swim a trail than hike it, anyway.

We decided to head to a more inland state park and our GPS took us through some windy, remote dirt roads to get to it.  When we hit an unexpected pothole, I started to wonder how many miles we would have to walk through fields for assistance since our phones had limited service.  Luckily, our tire survived and we made it to our next destination.  This park had the trails that we were dreaming about since starting the adventure.  They were secluded and provided natural shade cover.  The shade was created by beautiful, old, bowing trees with branches that formed a perfect canopy with their thick foliage, providing just the right amount of protection from the hot sun.  As we set out on the first trail, dodging huge spider webs created by spiders as big as my hand, the rumbling of a big summer storm started in the distance.  We started walking faster, keeping pace with Ralphie, our retriever, whose nose always keeps him at least 100 steps ahead of everyone else.  When it became clear that the storm was a reality that we couldn’t force away with our own sheer will and determination, we reluctantly turned back.  Grumpy and salty and cranky, we decided to at least salvage the day, with a stop at one of our favorite taco joints that we discovered on one of our many soccer game day trips over the years.  This is a restaurant that we don’t get to frequently due to the distance from our home, but it is one that never disappoints.

Once again the GPS guided us through the road less traveled and as we were driving we passed a man who looked like he was horseback riding.  But he wasn’t.  He was riding a cow.  Now to be sure that we weren’t hallucinating, my husband and I decided to turn around and validate to ourselves that we indeed had seen a real cowboy – a man literally riding a cow.  There they were again, contentedly trotting along and when I asked to take a picture, the sweet man and his bovine companion happily obliged.

Sometimes our adventures don’t always turn out the way we plan.  We are often prisoners of our own expectations.  I find that when I surrender to where the adventure wants to take me, it is usually a far more interesting expedition, than what my limited imagination has already planned and tries fervently to control.  If we expect the unexpected, and go with the flow, life is grand!

Where Did You Go?

Yesterday I received the final package I’ll ever get from what used to be one of my favorite stationers.  They have decided to take their business in a whole other direction and were offering leftover stationery items like memo books and pens and even cute coasters at bargain prices wrapped up in “grab bags.”  Ugh!  Why???  Why???  I’ve mentioned before that I have eclectic tastes so I find that more often than not my favorite items get discontinued just when I’m at my peak of adoring them.

Lipstick colors, nail polish colors, perfume scents, Starbucks offerings, etc. get thrown out to us like delicious teasers and then just when we’re really hooked, we’re told we have to go search the bargain bin for the remaining lot of what’s left.  Thank goodness for ebay and places like Replacements.com (replacement pieces for hard to find, discontinued dinnerware) who have made a business out of people desperate to find crumbs of what is still available of their former favorites.  These businesses know that when something is rare and hard to find, you want it even more.  We always want what we can’t have.  The irony of it all, is that you end up paying five times what you used to pay for the item, now that the company has deemed the product passe and past its prime.

When I get past my hunt frenzy, looking desperately for remnants of former favorites, I started getting a complex.  Why do I like things that no one else likes?  Why didn’t anyone else think that this cream was God’s answer to skincare?  Why didn’t anyone else like this exotic flavor of potato chips?  I pride myself for my unique tastes and then I disdain myself at the same time for the same reason.

So, this was just my Saturday morning rant.  Thanks for reading and possibly commiserating.  Storms made for bad sleep last night.  I’ll try to be a little bit more positive tomorrow.

Boom Shakalaka

It’s Friday!  And even better than that, it’s a Friday before a three-day weekend!  Bonus!!  I bought this little wooden plaque at an arts market a couple of years ago.  It’s darling and colorful.  It says, “get shit done”.  I keep it on my desk as a good reminder and motivator every morning.  On Fridays, I tend to take the plaque a little less seriously.  I add an imaginary “maybe” to the start of it or an imaginary “or not” to the end of it.  It’s a versatile plaque.  One of my favorite things, actually.

This quote cracks me up:  “We experience moments absolutely free from worry.  These brief respites are called panic.” – humorist Cullen Hightower

On to the purpose of this blog.  Favorite Things Friday!!!

Clean & Clear Persa-Gel 10 –  It is not fair to be almost 50 and still be getting the occasional zit.  I buy this stuff in bulk for my teenagers and me.  It is the best individual zit zapper out there, in my opinion.  It dries those nasty little red mounds of pus in a matter of hours.  I’m not sure of its overall capabilities for full-on acne, but when used on an individual blemish, it is spot on!  (on an aside, I looked up synonyms for the word “pimple” and the term “beauty spot” appeared on the list.  Huh??  Now granted, when I was growing up we called brown moles, “beauty marks”, but that makes sense. HA!)

Trigon – This is a phone app/game that has become my new obsession.  This is what I do when I’m not following my above-mentioned plaque’s orders.  I think I’m developing carpal tunnel syndrome from it, but it’s worth it.  Back in college, I loved Tetris like my middle sons love Fortnite.  I skipped classes, dates, meals, potty breaks and showers for Tetris.  If you love those “fitting shapes into other shapes” kinds of games, you’ll love Trigon.  It’s like a Rubik’s cube on steroids; when the Rubik’s cube was turned into a truncated icosahedron.  (look it up, it’s good to learn something new every day, even on Fridays) Anyway, it’s a free game/app; you just have to watch some dumb ads, when you lose.  So, don’t lose.

Starbucks Refreshers (in a can) –  These are for impatient people like me who do not have time to wait around for a barista to concoct my caffeine hit.  You know, I’m busy “getting shit done.”  Actually, I like a lot of Starbucks drinks, but I order these from Amazon when I don’t have time to drive to the six Starbucks stores within a mile of my house.  They are a delicious mix of fruit juice, coconut water and green coffee.  They have less than 100 calories.  They’re just a real nice treat, especially on Friday afternoons!

I’ll end with a Fun Friday quote that I saw on a sign:  “I haven’t been so excited about Friday since last Friday.”

Body Language

My daughter has started a yearly tradition in our family in which she generously brings home the first virus of the school year to share with us all.  This year’s virus isn’t bad enough for any of us to stay home and in bed; it’s just a big old pain in the butt, or more specifically a pain in the throat.  It’s good that I don’t offer an audio version of my blog, although sometimes I like the sexy, husky tone my voice gets when I’m sick.  This isn’t one of those times.  Today I am just nasally, cranky and croaky.

Why is it that I get so mad at my immune system for “letting me down?”  I never think to thank my body every day for doing everything that it does for me on the daily, even when I’m less than a good steward in regards to sleep, exercise, and healthy nutrition.  Well, hell, I do take expensive vitamins. So there “body”, buck up!!   Martha Graham, the famous dancer respected her body deeply.  This is what she said:

The body is a sacred garment.  It’s your first and last garment; it is what you enter life in and what you depart life with, and it should be treated with honor.  

I’m a cerebral person.  I tend to live a lot “in my head.” The band Twenty One Pilots has a song with the lyrics “I’ve been thinking too much.  Help me.”  I completely relate to those lyrics.  I say that I believe in balancing “the triple threat – mind, body and spirit,”  but my actions often lead me to spend a lot more time in mind and spirit and I let “body” out there to fend for itself.  I only notice “body” when it’s not working perfectly.  “Body” tends to be neglected and taken for granted.

The body is our vehicle for being.  It is what allows our minds and spirits to really explore our world. I often marvel at Sci-fi movies when someone’s wound is instantly healed and disappears, but then I think that in reality, our bodies already really do that amazing “sci-fi” healing.  It just takes a little more time.  Bodies are incredible when you really think about it.

So, maybe if I look at this virus as a reminder to not take my body for granted, it won’t be so annoying to be sick.  Maybe this virus is just a little birdy in my ear reminding me to appreciate my health and vitality and the amazing fact that my body is already in the process of healing itself.  Maybe this virus is a reminder to me to not just listen to the “noise” of a sick body, but to listen to the subtle “nuances” of a healthy body and remain in awe, gratitude and harmony with everything that it offers to me, every moment of my life.

Both Ends

Recently I read a really interesting analogy that made me think.  It talked about the two ends of a shoelace.  When the two ends don’t come together and stay far apart from each other, there is a real element of possible danger, pain and hurt, from the risk of constantly tripping and thus, not getting anywhere.  The two ends can come together in a big, messy, clumsy knot that is really hard to untie and kind of remains stuck.  The best result for the two ends is to come together and create a perfectly blended, beautiful bow.  This is most likely to happen when the two ends of the shoelace remember that they are both part of the same long lace.

 

 

Judgment Day

As I get older, I have a fear of becoming extremely judgmental and set in my ways.  Now that’s judgmental in itself, me presuming that older people ARE more judgmental and set in their ways than younger people.  This self realization lead me to do some homework on this topic of judgment versus discernment.

When my four kids were little and they would be making fun of each other’s haircuts or outfit choices or the ways that they each laughed or ran or threw a ball, I would spout out this “groaner” statement, “There has never been a statue erected to a critic.”   In time, my youngest son, who I have more than once suggested has a tendency to be inflammatory, would say, “Actually Mom, there is a statue erected to the movie critic Roger Ebert in Illinois.”   This would start the chain of snickering and they’d all be friends again.  Kids against Mom.  Mission accomplished. 😉

Anyway, I decided to do some studying on the difference between being judgmental and being discerning.  Being judgmental or not being judgmental, seems to be a hot topic these days.  These are the days of the idea that everyone’s the same, everyone gets a trophy and yet, there’s been a lot of backlash against the practice of “trophies for everyone.”  I understand that backlash.  I don’t deserve a trophy for singing or dancing.  Those aren’t my talents.  Other people are better at singing and dancing than me.  That doesn’t make them better people than me, just better singers and dancers. Way better.

The topic of being judgmental has a lot of weightiness to it because of the religious undertones.  “Let he who has not sinned, cast the first stone,” comes to mind the minute I think of the judgment topic.  The Bible itself is telling us not to be judgmental.  But if we didn’t have judgments, if we didn’t recognize differences, would mankind have even evolved?  Would we even exist?  That’s when I really started researching preferences or discernment versus judgment.

Now I like to simplify things.  I have always thought that those yellow Dummy books like “Home Buying for Dummies” for instance, were just great.  So, I have dummied the whole “judgment versus discernment idea” down for myself.  I find it helpful.  I hope that others do, too and that I’m not the only “dummy” on the subject.

Let’s pretend that we are in a park and we see a cute, tail wagging puppy and we also see a snarling tiger.  The non-judgmental, non-discerning person will say, “Puppies and tigers are just the same.  I’m going to love up on both of them!”  Even us dummies can see that this is a recipe for disaster.  The judgmental person will say, “Tigers are BAD, EVIL creatures.  Their only motivation in life is to maul and eat people.  I’m going to start an “I HATE TIGERS” club to get others to agree with me and validate my opinion which is the only right opinion to have about tigers.”  This is showing a lot of hate and fear, a need for control and a need for outside agreement and validation for the judging person’s opinion.  It is also making sweeping generalizations about tigers and their motivations that the judging person couldn’t possibly really fully know or understand.   The discerning person will say, “My education, experience and gut instincts are telling me that I should keep a very safe distance from wild creatures like tigers.  Domesticated puppies are likely to be safe, so I don’t have to keep my distance from the puppy.”  Or the discerning person could say something like this, “I have a lot of background in animal behavior and I have a tranquilizer gun in my backpack.  I find the tiger intriguing, so I will take calculated risks when approaching it.”  The discerning person is making decisions for himself or herself based on facts, experience, gut instincts, and what is best for that individual person.  The discerning person has no need for outside validation; they are comfortable with making their own assessments for what is right for themselves.  The discerning person is coming from a place of self-confidence, self-protection and creating healthy boundaries for himself or herself without requiring other people to have those same boundaries for themselves.  There is no religious edict that I know of that is against us being discerning.

That may seem like an oversimplified example, but if you put a person who has committed crimes in place of the word “tiger”, you can see how it fits.  It is not being judgmental to not hire an arrested embezzler to invest your life savings.  That is a discerning and wise choice.  To say that the embezzler is a bad, evil person who did their crime because they only have hate in their soul is judgmental.  The embezzler will go to jail to pay their consequences for committing a crime.  That is all that there is to it.  Those are the facts.  In nature, there are no rewards or punishments, just consequences for behavior, thus leaving out judgment.  Judgment is perhaps between us and our Maker only.   But discernment shows that we have self-understanding, self-care and preferences.  Discernment perhaps is a tool given to us by our Maker so that we can grow to be our own best selves.  Discernment allows us to grow to the best of our own abilities in the safety and security of knowing and trusting ourselves and trusting our individual choices completely.  Discernment says, “I know what is best for me.  I know what I like and I know what I need.”  Discernment is a tool for us to use individually.  It doesn’t try to control other people.

I’ll end this blog post with a description about one of my favorite cartoons that I cut out from The New Yorker magazine.  In it, a boy and his mother are looking at a piece of modern art in a museum.   The picture shows the mother saying something.  The caption reads, “Instead of saying ‘It sucks’, try saying ‘It doesn’t speak to me.’ ”  Judgment versus discernment.  There is a difference.

If I Want To . . . .

My husband loves to quote Coach Willie Taggart, “The only difference between a good day and a bad day is your attitude.  So go have a great day if you want to!”  We repeat this quote a lot to each other and to our kids, especially on Mondays.  It’s a big responsibility to have a great day.  There are so many obstacles in the way.  Traffic, cranky people, an off-putting comment, an overflowing in-box, less than good sleep the night before, all seem to be roadblocks to the choice of having a great day.  That’s the key word, though, right?  Choice.  We choose how we look at traffic, cranky people, annoying comments, huge workloads and sleepiness.

In today’s world, sometimes it doesn’t feel cool to be Pollyanna.  You are almost expected to be cynical and sarcastic, if you want to be considered smart and “in the know.”  In the end though, what matters more?  How you perceive others to consider you to be or how you feel at the end of another precious day in your life?  Traffic can be turned into the blessing of having a car, and having forced alone time to think and contemplate and rest, in your car.  Cranky people can be a lesson in empathy and sending a silent prayer or blessing that connects you and the upset person to a force that holds both of you in the Highest of esteem.  Annoying comments can be a lesson in self awareness as to why the comment pricked us and could there be merit or a lesson in the thought, despite its unfavorable form of transport?  Huge workloads force us to prioritize and take tasks, methodically, one at a time.  I read once that we are all going to die with our in-boxes full.  Again, it is looking at things in a different perspective.  Sleepiness is just our bodies telling us to remember to prioritize our rest.  A quote I often think of is that your body is your soul’s address.  Be a good landlord.

I don’t think having a great day is always an easy task in our modern world.  But it is a task that I think is definitely worth pursuing.  So, thanks Coach, I will have a great day.  If I want to . . . .