For what I hope is the only time in my life, ten years ago right now, I was a participant, not an observer of a cataclysmic event in history. Hurricane Katrina was my hurricane.
Always before, when watching human tragedy unfold, there was a layer between me and the events on television.
There was no layer with Hurricane Katrina.
We evacuated to Birmingham, AL, so I have no horror stories of living through the devastation as it happened.
But every scene played out, I could see myself standing in that place, because I had stood there.
Cell phones didn't work. And very few people knew how to text on a numeric keyboard. I was one of the lucky ones, because I did know how, and could keep in touch with my daughter.
I was lucky that I worked for a global company, and so there was no problem using the internet at the hotel and my work laptop to stay plugged into my job.
I was lucky in so many ways. No one in my family died. I did not lose my home. I did not lose my job. I did lose something intangible, though. I lost my sense of home.
I was not born in Louisiana. But, as I have said many times since I moved here, the greater New Orleans area fit me like the perfect pair of shoes. I found my soul's home here.
And I did not know if New Orleans would recover.
I know that many said that investment in recovery was stupid. I know that people all over these United States simply could not wrap their minds around the magnitude of what had been broken.
My husband and I were able to live in a travel trailer provided by our company until we could go back to our house. But we didn't know if staying was the right answer.
It took until April of 2006 to get our house repaired. We had no heat that winter, but it was mild. Again, lucky.
We looked at homes in Louisiana outside the hurricane flood zone. We looked at moving to Texas. We talked about moving to Mississippi.
We couldn't leave New Orleans.
We love this city.
And New Orleans is coming back.
We are rebuilding.
Amazing things have happened in the past 10 years of recovery, and we are celebrating those accomplishment this week.
But we still have a long way to go.
And I learned something important.
Where your soul calls home doesn't change. And many souls call New Orleans home.
So we will always rebuild. We will fight to recover. We will always remember.
The rhythm of our city was interrupted, but not changed. Our song is old, and resonant, and filled with the gumbo of people and cultures that have come together in our great city.
New Orleans is more than a place on a map built below sea level. It is a culture, a family, a feeling. It is a sultry summer night, a crisp autumn day, a torrential rainfall, a jazz riff. New Orleans is a home for the restless, wayward soul seeking refuge. For the misfit who who lives large and loves with too many exclamation points. New Orleans is the soundtrack to thousands of stories of lost souls. And the soundtrack to thousands of stories of salvation.
Not everyone is meant to live here. New Orleans is too messy, too uncompromising, too uncouth, too broken for many people.
But for those of us who love her, who BELONG to New Orleans, New Orleans is our mother church, she is our true center, she sings the song that our souls dance to.
I'm so grateful to live here, and so grateful that the home of my earthly soul is recovering.
Tomorrow, my husband and I will walk and run with approximately two thousand of our fellow New Orleanians in the Resiliance Run/Walk. We will celebrate the rebirth of our great city. I'm sure I will cry, as will many others.
Everyone there will have a Katrina story, so many of them so much more tragic than mine. But we all understand it is not a contest for who has the most painful story. It is a celebration that no matter what we had to overcome, we are still here. And we love, and we laugh, and we celebrate, and we dance.
Because that is what New Orleanians do.
Friday, August 28, 2015
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Nothing good down that road
All of us are prey to unpleasant memories. I've done a really good job for most of my life of saying to myself, "There is nothing good down that road" and turning away from the memory that still has the power to evoke the emotional turmoil of the original event.
Not so with the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina approaching on Saturday, August 29, 2015. I simply cannot help myself from watching the television specials, reading the news reports, looking at the photographs.
Maybe it is because Hurricane Katrina is not really over yet. I watch the new pumping station at the 17th street canal being constructed on my daily walks.
I drive through Lakeview, which still has slabs where houses used to be, and the streets look like something in a fun house at an amusement park, tilted every which way but flat.
I go to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where empty lots stand where grand homes once stood, and where a few blocks off Beach Boulevard there are still steps to nothing, where ordinary people's houses stood.
And I wonder if I'm not wrong this time. Maybe there is something good down the road of remembering Katrina.
As my husband and I sat in a hotel room in Birmingham, AL, with our old dog Burt, and watched the news of the devastation, it was hard to believe that we were watching America, and even harder because every building was familiar because it was our home.
There was the incredible uncertainty of what would happen next. We knew we were fortunate, because our jobs were still there, and the plant we worked at in St. Charles Parish was still there and eager to start up. So we had something many others did not.
We found out that our company was getting travel trailers and setting up trailer parks so employees would have somewhere to live during the rebuilding. We had very good friends offer us a place in their home until the trailer was ready for us.
But Burt was sick and getting sicker, and our vet was gone for the foreseeable future. My daughter and her boyfriend (now my son-in-law) had nothing to come back to, so were moving to Virginia. My normal had completely disappeared.
And then there was the survivor guilt. Sure, my house had ~$40K of damage, but it was repairable. None of my friends or family had died. I still had a job. So, technically, I was one of the lucky ones. I have heard and used the term surreal many times in my life. But until you are directed into your neighborhood by National Guard members with their weapons at arms, to try to secure your property as helicopters continually take off and land at the Coast Guard station and Interstate 10 ferrying people off of roofs and out of harm's way, surreal might be an overstatement. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, there were many surreal moments, all very much deserving the title.
So what possible good could be down this road of remembering? Well, for one, we can never forget that levees breach. There is no safe place in a hurricane where you are depending on levee protection. Two, as good as meteorologists are at forecasting, hurricanes are still unpredictable creatures. Evacuation is the only right answer. Three, the civil authorities have an obligation to evacuate those who cannot afford to evacuate themselves. It is much cheaper to get the people out before the devastation and death. Four, property can be rebuilt. Things may be different, but change is inevitable anyway. People cannot be replaced. Five, there is tremendous community in shared grief.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, as we were all shell-shocked and trying to get by, there was more ordinary kindness than I have experienced before or since. It was not unusual to see tearful reunions in church, in the grocery store, at Home Depot or Lowes. I remember Christmas of 2005. The K-Mart near my home was open, but was still terribly understaffed. As I stood in line for one of the two cashiers, I made conversation with the others in line. Instead of complaining about the wait, which is what I would expect in normal conditions, the conversation was about recovery status. Are you back in your house? Do you have all your walls up? Do you have a kitchen yet? How is your tarp holding up? Are you on someone's schedule for your house to be repaired? Are you going to be able to have Christmas?
We all had been through enough in the past few months that waiting in line for a cashier had ceased to be something to worry or complain about.
So maybe that is the good down this remembering Hurricane Katrina road. Most of what we allow to distress us really shouldn't bother us. Compared to what most of us on the Gulf Coast have already survived, the trials of everyday life are pretty easy to cope with.
Not so with the 10th anniversary of Hurricane Katrina approaching on Saturday, August 29, 2015. I simply cannot help myself from watching the television specials, reading the news reports, looking at the photographs.
Maybe it is because Hurricane Katrina is not really over yet. I watch the new pumping station at the 17th street canal being constructed on my daily walks.
I drive through Lakeview, which still has slabs where houses used to be, and the streets look like something in a fun house at an amusement park, tilted every which way but flat.
I go to the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where empty lots stand where grand homes once stood, and where a few blocks off Beach Boulevard there are still steps to nothing, where ordinary people's houses stood.
And I wonder if I'm not wrong this time. Maybe there is something good down the road of remembering Katrina.
As my husband and I sat in a hotel room in Birmingham, AL, with our old dog Burt, and watched the news of the devastation, it was hard to believe that we were watching America, and even harder because every building was familiar because it was our home.
There was the incredible uncertainty of what would happen next. We knew we were fortunate, because our jobs were still there, and the plant we worked at in St. Charles Parish was still there and eager to start up. So we had something many others did not.
We found out that our company was getting travel trailers and setting up trailer parks so employees would have somewhere to live during the rebuilding. We had very good friends offer us a place in their home until the trailer was ready for us.
But Burt was sick and getting sicker, and our vet was gone for the foreseeable future. My daughter and her boyfriend (now my son-in-law) had nothing to come back to, so were moving to Virginia. My normal had completely disappeared.
And then there was the survivor guilt. Sure, my house had ~$40K of damage, but it was repairable. None of my friends or family had died. I still had a job. So, technically, I was one of the lucky ones. I have heard and used the term surreal many times in my life. But until you are directed into your neighborhood by National Guard members with their weapons at arms, to try to secure your property as helicopters continually take off and land at the Coast Guard station and Interstate 10 ferrying people off of roofs and out of harm's way, surreal might be an overstatement. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, there were many surreal moments, all very much deserving the title.
So what possible good could be down this road of remembering? Well, for one, we can never forget that levees breach. There is no safe place in a hurricane where you are depending on levee protection. Two, as good as meteorologists are at forecasting, hurricanes are still unpredictable creatures. Evacuation is the only right answer. Three, the civil authorities have an obligation to evacuate those who cannot afford to evacuate themselves. It is much cheaper to get the people out before the devastation and death. Four, property can be rebuilt. Things may be different, but change is inevitable anyway. People cannot be replaced. Five, there is tremendous community in shared grief.
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, as we were all shell-shocked and trying to get by, there was more ordinary kindness than I have experienced before or since. It was not unusual to see tearful reunions in church, in the grocery store, at Home Depot or Lowes. I remember Christmas of 2005. The K-Mart near my home was open, but was still terribly understaffed. As I stood in line for one of the two cashiers, I made conversation with the others in line. Instead of complaining about the wait, which is what I would expect in normal conditions, the conversation was about recovery status. Are you back in your house? Do you have all your walls up? Do you have a kitchen yet? How is your tarp holding up? Are you on someone's schedule for your house to be repaired? Are you going to be able to have Christmas?
We all had been through enough in the past few months that waiting in line for a cashier had ceased to be something to worry or complain about.
So maybe that is the good down this remembering Hurricane Katrina road. Most of what we allow to distress us really shouldn't bother us. Compared to what most of us on the Gulf Coast have already survived, the trials of everyday life are pretty easy to cope with.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Gifts
I was blessed by being born with a happy disposition. I wake up in the morning excited about a new day. I don't know any other way to be.
A couple of years ago, I was given a medication that had a terrible side effect. The medication caused depression in a very small number of patients.
I believe this is the only time in my life I was clinically depressed. It was so hard. It was like all of the color had been washed out of my world. I didn't want to get up in the morning. I wasn't excited about anything. Life felt so very hard.
I was lucky in that I knew something wasn't right, and so started looking for what had changed. I read up on the drug, and found that depression was a rare, but documented side effect. I called my doctor, and stopped taking the medication, using lifestyle changes to manage the condition the drug had been prescribed for.
It was then that I realized what a gift it is to not suffer from depression. While clinically depressed, none of the usual methods I use to cheer myself up worked. I could get temporary relief from exercise, but it was really hard to make myself start. Thank God for my dogs. They at least got me outside and walking every day.
You would think that knowing the walk was going to provide some relief from the darkness would be enough, but that is not how depression works.
I realized at that time that while I had always understood the need for medication to treat depression, I had never had genuine empathy for those struggling with the disease. I believe I always had sympathy and compassion, but truly did not understand how crushing depression is.
What is the point of all this?
None of have a complete understanding of life on this planet. We all only have the life we have lived, and what we have learned from it.
Every day, people around you are struggling with burdens you can't see, and can't understand. Everyone needs love and compassion.
Choosing to celebrate your gifts, and to show gratitude for them by being kind to others is a good start.
Choosing to gently respond to anger, or impatience, or meanness may help the other person see a better way.
We can all be beacons of light and hope. We can choose to find the subjects that unite us, rather than those that divide us. We can actively choose to lift others up through our interactions with them.
Kindness is a multiplier. Compassion is a multiplier. Encouragement is a multiplier. Optimism is a multiplier.
We will all have days when we need another's kindness, compassion, encouragement and optimism to get through our challenges.
On the days when you have more gifts than challenges, feed the good karma in the universe. Be kind. Be compassionate. Be encouraging. Be optimistic.
You end up living in the world you create. Choose to create a world that shines as a beacon of hope for those who cannot create their own light. If a time comes when your light falters, you will be surrounded by the reflections of the light you created in the past.
No one can shine your particular light in the world besides you. Shine on.
A couple of years ago, I was given a medication that had a terrible side effect. The medication caused depression in a very small number of patients.
I believe this is the only time in my life I was clinically depressed. It was so hard. It was like all of the color had been washed out of my world. I didn't want to get up in the morning. I wasn't excited about anything. Life felt so very hard.
I was lucky in that I knew something wasn't right, and so started looking for what had changed. I read up on the drug, and found that depression was a rare, but documented side effect. I called my doctor, and stopped taking the medication, using lifestyle changes to manage the condition the drug had been prescribed for.
It was then that I realized what a gift it is to not suffer from depression. While clinically depressed, none of the usual methods I use to cheer myself up worked. I could get temporary relief from exercise, but it was really hard to make myself start. Thank God for my dogs. They at least got me outside and walking every day.
You would think that knowing the walk was going to provide some relief from the darkness would be enough, but that is not how depression works.
I realized at that time that while I had always understood the need for medication to treat depression, I had never had genuine empathy for those struggling with the disease. I believe I always had sympathy and compassion, but truly did not understand how crushing depression is.
What is the point of all this?
None of have a complete understanding of life on this planet. We all only have the life we have lived, and what we have learned from it.
Every day, people around you are struggling with burdens you can't see, and can't understand. Everyone needs love and compassion.
Choosing to celebrate your gifts, and to show gratitude for them by being kind to others is a good start.
Choosing to gently respond to anger, or impatience, or meanness may help the other person see a better way.
We can all be beacons of light and hope. We can choose to find the subjects that unite us, rather than those that divide us. We can actively choose to lift others up through our interactions with them.
Kindness is a multiplier. Compassion is a multiplier. Encouragement is a multiplier. Optimism is a multiplier.
We will all have days when we need another's kindness, compassion, encouragement and optimism to get through our challenges.
On the days when you have more gifts than challenges, feed the good karma in the universe. Be kind. Be compassionate. Be encouraging. Be optimistic.
You end up living in the world you create. Choose to create a world that shines as a beacon of hope for those who cannot create their own light. If a time comes when your light falters, you will be surrounded by the reflections of the light you created in the past.
No one can shine your particular light in the world besides you. Shine on.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Hope is a force field
One of the great challenges of life is to remain kind and positive in the face of negativity and meanness. For some reason, I have been thinking a lot about how to equip my friends and family with a force field to protect them from the negativity and unkindness. And then I realized, I don't have to equip those I care about with a force field, we each can create our own.
Hope is a force field.
Hope allows us to believe that better days are coming, that good will triumph over evil, that it really will be OK.
So, my task then is to coach on how to restore and maintain hope.
What specific and tangible actions can be taken to restore hope? Some are simple physical actions. If you are feeling hopeless, first have a big glass of water. Then, think about how long it has been since you ate, and eat something if it has been too long between feedings. Once hunger and thirst are addressed, get dressed in something that makes you feel good about yourself. Then celebrate that you had water to drink, food to eat, and clothes to wear.
Do something to make the world a better place. That is as easy as smiling at someone, or holding a door, or gesturing for someone else at the four-way stop to go first. Reach out to someone important to you and let them know they are important to you.
Go outside. Drink in the beauty and majesty of this wonderful world we live in. Appreciate the beauty of a flower, a bird or a leaf.
Read a book. Get lost in the story.
Real life can be daunting and difficult. Use your Imaginary Lives to make reality more bearable. Allow yourself to get lost in a wonderful memory of a beautiful time. Spin a life for yourself where everything is as you want it to be. Remember, imaginary lives are just that, imaginary. They are not dreams, they are not plans. Imaginary lives are one way of coping with a reality that is difficult. They are a way of escaping a reality that is painful.
Hope gives us the power to try. Hope gives us protection from hurtful words and actions. Hope gives us the energy to keep going, when it seems too hard.
Hope is a force field that protects us from the negativity and harshness of the world. When times are good, feed the force field. Have a cache of robust imaginary lives to draw on when times are tough.
It is incredibly hard to find hope when you are hopeless if you have not invested in hope when times are good.
Start filling up your figurative hope chest. Fill it with good deeds, and good memories, and imaginary lives full of promise. Keep your force field strong.
Hope is a force field.
Hope allows us to believe that better days are coming, that good will triumph over evil, that it really will be OK.
So, my task then is to coach on how to restore and maintain hope.
What specific and tangible actions can be taken to restore hope? Some are simple physical actions. If you are feeling hopeless, first have a big glass of water. Then, think about how long it has been since you ate, and eat something if it has been too long between feedings. Once hunger and thirst are addressed, get dressed in something that makes you feel good about yourself. Then celebrate that you had water to drink, food to eat, and clothes to wear.
Do something to make the world a better place. That is as easy as smiling at someone, or holding a door, or gesturing for someone else at the four-way stop to go first. Reach out to someone important to you and let them know they are important to you.
Go outside. Drink in the beauty and majesty of this wonderful world we live in. Appreciate the beauty of a flower, a bird or a leaf.
Read a book. Get lost in the story.
Real life can be daunting and difficult. Use your Imaginary Lives to make reality more bearable. Allow yourself to get lost in a wonderful memory of a beautiful time. Spin a life for yourself where everything is as you want it to be. Remember, imaginary lives are just that, imaginary. They are not dreams, they are not plans. Imaginary lives are one way of coping with a reality that is difficult. They are a way of escaping a reality that is painful.
Hope gives us the power to try. Hope gives us protection from hurtful words and actions. Hope gives us the energy to keep going, when it seems too hard.
Hope is a force field that protects us from the negativity and harshness of the world. When times are good, feed the force field. Have a cache of robust imaginary lives to draw on when times are tough.
It is incredibly hard to find hope when you are hopeless if you have not invested in hope when times are good.
Start filling up your figurative hope chest. Fill it with good deeds, and good memories, and imaginary lives full of promise. Keep your force field strong.
Saturday, August 22, 2015
A Deliberate Life
When I was young, I acted like flotsam on the sea of life, and just floated in the direction of the prevailing winds and current. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, youth is for discovery and growth.
Unfortunately, this lack of direction and deliberation resulted in my being a single mother of a three year old without marketable skills to support us.
Thus began my transformation to a deliberate life. What is a deliberate life? It is a life where thoughtful consideration is given to decisions, large and small. Yes, this can lead to analysis paralysis (see Overthinking Granola), and you can occasionally miss out on a grand adventure, but it is also a life less likely to contain a lot of regrets.
A deliberate life means that you make decisions based on long-term outcomes. It means that you think of the set of possible outcomes, and probable outcomes, and by evaluating those outcomes, make the decsions with the lowest probability of failure.
A deliberate life also means you have an exit plan, or a Plan "B", just in case one of those low failure probability events actualizes. A deliberate life doesn't have many surprises, because you have considered what can happen and planned for your response to it.
A deliberate life also does not have many regrets. Because you actively THINK about the choices you make, you are able to take responsibility for your choices, and the outcomes of those choices.
This does not mean that randomness does not still impact your life. Within the next week, I will compose a Hurricane Katrina blog, the most profound reminder that we are not in control that I have ever experienced.
But, at the same time, Katrina changed the possible outcomes in my decision making matrix. And, armed with my new matrix, I questioned every decision I had ever made, where I worked, what I did for a living, where I lived.
And, I debated, deliberated and analyzed all the possible outcomes. And decided to stay in Metairie. And I have a Plan "B".
The greatest gift a deliberate life will give you is ownership. Because you have made decisons based on your evaluation of possible outcomes, you take responsibility for the outcome you envisioned. If the outcome was not on your list, you have ownership for incomplete analysis. This reinforces the illusion of control, so you will continue trying to self-determine your fate.
I love my deliberate life. When I am less than satisfied, my deliberate life allows me to question specific decisions so that I can make better decisions next time. When I am satisfied, I feel like my deliberation has created my satisfaction.
A deliberate life does not mean that one never behaves impulsively. It simply means that the impulsive actions are those that have relatively little chance of being life altering. As many of my posts do, it all goes back to the illusion of control that I like to have about my life.
The randomness of the universe is a constant. A deliberate life is simply one way to create the illusion of control.
Unfortunately, this lack of direction and deliberation resulted in my being a single mother of a three year old without marketable skills to support us.
Thus began my transformation to a deliberate life. What is a deliberate life? It is a life where thoughtful consideration is given to decisions, large and small. Yes, this can lead to analysis paralysis (see Overthinking Granola), and you can occasionally miss out on a grand adventure, but it is also a life less likely to contain a lot of regrets.
A deliberate life means that you make decisions based on long-term outcomes. It means that you think of the set of possible outcomes, and probable outcomes, and by evaluating those outcomes, make the decsions with the lowest probability of failure.
A deliberate life also means you have an exit plan, or a Plan "B", just in case one of those low failure probability events actualizes. A deliberate life doesn't have many surprises, because you have considered what can happen and planned for your response to it.
A deliberate life also does not have many regrets. Because you actively THINK about the choices you make, you are able to take responsibility for your choices, and the outcomes of those choices.
This does not mean that randomness does not still impact your life. Within the next week, I will compose a Hurricane Katrina blog, the most profound reminder that we are not in control that I have ever experienced.
But, at the same time, Katrina changed the possible outcomes in my decision making matrix. And, armed with my new matrix, I questioned every decision I had ever made, where I worked, what I did for a living, where I lived.
And, I debated, deliberated and analyzed all the possible outcomes. And decided to stay in Metairie. And I have a Plan "B".
The greatest gift a deliberate life will give you is ownership. Because you have made decisons based on your evaluation of possible outcomes, you take responsibility for the outcome you envisioned. If the outcome was not on your list, you have ownership for incomplete analysis. This reinforces the illusion of control, so you will continue trying to self-determine your fate.
I love my deliberate life. When I am less than satisfied, my deliberate life allows me to question specific decisions so that I can make better decisions next time. When I am satisfied, I feel like my deliberation has created my satisfaction.
A deliberate life does not mean that one never behaves impulsively. It simply means that the impulsive actions are those that have relatively little chance of being life altering. As many of my posts do, it all goes back to the illusion of control that I like to have about my life.
The randomness of the universe is a constant. A deliberate life is simply one way to create the illusion of control.
Thursday, August 20, 2015
The legacy of being picked last
I was not an athletically gifted child. I have very poor eyesight, so was terrible at sports that required eye-hand coordination. Because of this, I was always one of the last kids picked when teams were drawn up in grammar school.
Before starting school, I thought of myself as an outside kid. I loved to play tag, and red light/green light, and red rover, and climb trees and ride my bike.
But getting picked last eroded my confidence that I was good at physical things.
So, I still rode my bike, and I still walked, but I got less adventurous. When we did the President's physical fitness test, I could do all the strength and endurance activities, but forget about the eye/hand stuff.
So, when adolescence hit, and you had to add smelly perspiration, and a high school locker room where you had to change clothes in front of people, I hated it.
I stopped being physically active, except I still loved to walk. And since walking wasn't considered a sport, I no longer thought of myself as having athletic ability.
A couple of times I tried to embrace a lifestyle that included physical fitness, but the voices in my head always shut me down.
I became a smoker. I had random affairs with exercise, but never stayed the course.
Then I met my husband. I'll take all the ridicule anyone wants to dish out on this, but I started running so that I would have an activity to share with him.
I didn't tell him I had started running after we started dating. But after running for six weeks, I quit smoking so that I could run faster.
Then I had to tell. His delight and encouragement certainly influenced me, but the biggest driver was that I had become reacquainted with the athlete I was as a child before being picked last.
So, what is the point here? OK, the point is, I allowed other people's evaluation of my talent and my value to steal from me the enjoyment I get from testing my physical limits.
And here is the message. What other people think or value does not matter.
If you like to do something, do it. Do it for you. Celebrate your accomplishments, your contributions. Be your own cheering section.
Since indulging myself by being the physical person I always was, I have greatly expanded my capacity for joyous celebration of me.
Whatever makes you do a happy dance, do it. For you. It IS all about you. You are a superstar.
And when you fully embrace the superstar that is you, it is SO much easier to celebrate with others the superstar that they are.
Celebrating what you love to do without judgement allows you to celebrate with others what they love to do without judgement.
Be joyously what you are made to be. Celebrate joyously with others as they actualize.
Who cares who picked who last.
We are all superstars at being ourselves. No one can be you. No one can rock the world the way you can. Rock on.
Before starting school, I thought of myself as an outside kid. I loved to play tag, and red light/green light, and red rover, and climb trees and ride my bike.
But getting picked last eroded my confidence that I was good at physical things.
So, I still rode my bike, and I still walked, but I got less adventurous. When we did the President's physical fitness test, I could do all the strength and endurance activities, but forget about the eye/hand stuff.
So, when adolescence hit, and you had to add smelly perspiration, and a high school locker room where you had to change clothes in front of people, I hated it.
I stopped being physically active, except I still loved to walk. And since walking wasn't considered a sport, I no longer thought of myself as having athletic ability.
A couple of times I tried to embrace a lifestyle that included physical fitness, but the voices in my head always shut me down.
I became a smoker. I had random affairs with exercise, but never stayed the course.
Then I met my husband. I'll take all the ridicule anyone wants to dish out on this, but I started running so that I would have an activity to share with him.
I didn't tell him I had started running after we started dating. But after running for six weeks, I quit smoking so that I could run faster.
Then I had to tell. His delight and encouragement certainly influenced me, but the biggest driver was that I had become reacquainted with the athlete I was as a child before being picked last.
So, what is the point here? OK, the point is, I allowed other people's evaluation of my talent and my value to steal from me the enjoyment I get from testing my physical limits.
And here is the message. What other people think or value does not matter.
If you like to do something, do it. Do it for you. Celebrate your accomplishments, your contributions. Be your own cheering section.
Since indulging myself by being the physical person I always was, I have greatly expanded my capacity for joyous celebration of me.
Whatever makes you do a happy dance, do it. For you. It IS all about you. You are a superstar.
And when you fully embrace the superstar that is you, it is SO much easier to celebrate with others the superstar that they are.
Celebrating what you love to do without judgement allows you to celebrate with others what they love to do without judgement.
Be joyously what you are made to be. Celebrate joyously with others as they actualize.
Who cares who picked who last.
We are all superstars at being ourselves. No one can be you. No one can rock the world the way you can. Rock on.
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Overthinking Granola
I have the same thing for breakfast almost every day. Non-fat Greek yogurt, and granola. I usually have 3 or 4 varieties of granola that I rotate. Right now, I have Bear Naked Fit Vanilla Almond, Nature Valley Protein Oats and Dark Chocolate, Kind Peanut Butter Clusters, and Quaker Real Medleys Dark Chocolate, Cranberry and Almond Granola. I also add flavoring to my yogurt, either extract or PB2 (powdered peanut butter).
So this morning as I was preparing my breakfast, I started to think about the optimal order of rotation for my granola. You see, two varieties have almond, two have chocolate, and if I put PB2 in the yogurt, I have two peanut butter days. So is it best to go almond, almond (and one of those almond is also chocolate), chocolate, peanut butter, or is it best to go chocolate almond, almond, chocolate, peanut butter? Or peanut, almond, almond, no nut?
SCREECH!
What the heck is happening? I'm overthinking granola! Just make a bowl of breakfast and get on with the day! Now those of you who read my blog regularly know I am a big fan of planning. Of creating an illusion of control by making active decisions, rather than letting life happen around me. The danger of this is what happened to me this morning, analysis paralysis.
Analysis paralysis is the phenomenon whereby the availability of multiple courses of action causes a person to analyze each option so thoroughly that they are unable to choose one, and stay paralyzed in the analysis.
I recently read an article that hypothesized that many people end up not doing things they want to do because they are paralyzed trying to decide which choice to make. There are some choices that are big enough to deserve long and hard consideration. Things like buying a house or car, getting married, getting divorced, having children, changing careers. But granola?
Fortunately, I was able to snap out of it before I tried to build a matrix to help me decide. But when you get into the habit of analyzing your choices and decisions before making them, how do you prevent overthinking everything?
This kind of relates to a previous post on Opportunity Cost. Everything has an opportunity cost. If I eat the Oats and Dark Chocolate granola, I miss the opportunity to eat the Vanilla Almond granola. Today. Or for breakfast. I could go totally rogue and have yogurt and granola again for lunch or dinner. Wow - what a tiny opportunity cost.
But buying the wrong house or car? Higher opportunity cost. Marrying the wrong person? Huge opportunity cost. And because I am so very addicted to the illusion of control, I will continue to analyze my decisions, but to prevent analysis paralysis, I will consider the opportunity cost involved.
Let's follow the house or car purchase decision. If the housing market is hot, and I don't mind moving, that lowers the opportunity cost. With the car, if I more money than I need, the immediate depreciation on a new car may not be daunting, and the purchase of a classic car is a pretty safe investment anyway.
As to how to spend my time, how many things actually disappear never to happen again if we do something else?
The bottom line is only you can know the opportunity cost of your decisions for you. Think about how much analysis the opportunity cost of the decision deserves. Set a time boundary on yourself if the opportunity will disappear if you take too long to decide. Then, once you make a decision, with full acceptance of the opportunity cost, move on.
The opportunity cost of analysis paralysis is that you spend your time thinking about life instead of living it. And that is simply too expensive.
So this morning as I was preparing my breakfast, I started to think about the optimal order of rotation for my granola. You see, two varieties have almond, two have chocolate, and if I put PB2 in the yogurt, I have two peanut butter days. So is it best to go almond, almond (and one of those almond is also chocolate), chocolate, peanut butter, or is it best to go chocolate almond, almond, chocolate, peanut butter? Or peanut, almond, almond, no nut?
SCREECH!
What the heck is happening? I'm overthinking granola! Just make a bowl of breakfast and get on with the day! Now those of you who read my blog regularly know I am a big fan of planning. Of creating an illusion of control by making active decisions, rather than letting life happen around me. The danger of this is what happened to me this morning, analysis paralysis.
Analysis paralysis is the phenomenon whereby the availability of multiple courses of action causes a person to analyze each option so thoroughly that they are unable to choose one, and stay paralyzed in the analysis.
I recently read an article that hypothesized that many people end up not doing things they want to do because they are paralyzed trying to decide which choice to make. There are some choices that are big enough to deserve long and hard consideration. Things like buying a house or car, getting married, getting divorced, having children, changing careers. But granola?
Fortunately, I was able to snap out of it before I tried to build a matrix to help me decide. But when you get into the habit of analyzing your choices and decisions before making them, how do you prevent overthinking everything?
This kind of relates to a previous post on Opportunity Cost. Everything has an opportunity cost. If I eat the Oats and Dark Chocolate granola, I miss the opportunity to eat the Vanilla Almond granola. Today. Or for breakfast. I could go totally rogue and have yogurt and granola again for lunch or dinner. Wow - what a tiny opportunity cost.
But buying the wrong house or car? Higher opportunity cost. Marrying the wrong person? Huge opportunity cost. And because I am so very addicted to the illusion of control, I will continue to analyze my decisions, but to prevent analysis paralysis, I will consider the opportunity cost involved.
Let's follow the house or car purchase decision. If the housing market is hot, and I don't mind moving, that lowers the opportunity cost. With the car, if I more money than I need, the immediate depreciation on a new car may not be daunting, and the purchase of a classic car is a pretty safe investment anyway.
As to how to spend my time, how many things actually disappear never to happen again if we do something else?
The bottom line is only you can know the opportunity cost of your decisions for you. Think about how much analysis the opportunity cost of the decision deserves. Set a time boundary on yourself if the opportunity will disappear if you take too long to decide. Then, once you make a decision, with full acceptance of the opportunity cost, move on.
The opportunity cost of analysis paralysis is that you spend your time thinking about life instead of living it. And that is simply too expensive.
Tuesday, August 18, 2015
Imaginary Lives
As children, most of us had imaginary lives. We were princesses and pirates, ballerinas and magicians, soldiers and teachers, presidents and kings. Unfortunately, many humans give up their imaginary lives as they get older. I think this is a terrible mistake.
Just to be clear, imaginary lives are just that, imaginary. To think that these imaginings are going to become reality is dangerous, and can lead to a life full of disappointment and angst. But to use these imaginings as children do, to entertain your mind, to take you to a happier place, and to help you frame your dreams and ambitions, this is the power of imaginary lives.
Try to remember when you lived in your imaginary lives as a child. For most of us, it was while we were at play, or in time out to distract from being in time out, or when in bed and too full of energy to sleep. These imaginary lives entertained us, they distracted us from discomfort, and for many of us, the imaginary lives led to thinking about the real life we wanted.
Continuing to have imaginary lives as a grown-up provides the same benefits. Imaginary lives can lift us out of the doldrums, can distract us from the tediousness of everyday life, and can help us direct the next phase of our existence.
I'll try to clarify by sharing some of my imaginary lives. As a child, I imagined I would have a pack of children, 10 or 12 at least. As life worked out, I have one child and two stepchildren. Am I disappointed that my imaginary life didn't come to fruition? NO! Why did I want all those children? I wanted many children because I love to nurture people. I love to see people become the best they can be. So, I channelled all of that nurturing energy into people I have met that needed nurturing. Some of these were short-term relationships, but many of them are enduring lifetime relationships that are precious to me. These people are the family I chose. This is how you can use your imaginary life to enrich your actual life.
I have an imaginary life where I am very active in animal rescue, and foster dogs until they can find a permanent home. In reality, I have two very needy and not happy to share dogs that would freak out if I brought a foster dog into my home. To manage the gap between my real life and my imaginary life, I imagine a time when I have no dog, and think I am too old to make the 17-18 year commitment to a puppy. In my imaginary life, at that point I will have a series of foster dogs. Satisfying my imaginary life, and my need for canine companionship, without worrying about what will become of my companion when I die.
I also have a completely ridiculous imaginary life, where my book becomes a best-seller, I get to be on all the talk shows, and George Clooney plays the role of Jean-Luc. Do I really imagine any of that will happen? No, but it sure is fun to think about.
This is but a sample of my imaginary lives. To be honest, I have thousands of them.
Using your imaginary lives to entertain yourself, to comfort yourself, and to help define what you really want is a very helpful and empowering thing. Used correctly, your imaginary lives can help you define the real life you want, and help you identify alternative strategies that will satisfy the needs you have, and help you to be happy with the real life you live.
And by the way, that princess wave I perfected as a child? A great tool to entertain the crowd when I pass them in a road race. And it works even without the tiara and wand.
Just to be clear, imaginary lives are just that, imaginary. To think that these imaginings are going to become reality is dangerous, and can lead to a life full of disappointment and angst. But to use these imaginings as children do, to entertain your mind, to take you to a happier place, and to help you frame your dreams and ambitions, this is the power of imaginary lives.
Try to remember when you lived in your imaginary lives as a child. For most of us, it was while we were at play, or in time out to distract from being in time out, or when in bed and too full of energy to sleep. These imaginary lives entertained us, they distracted us from discomfort, and for many of us, the imaginary lives led to thinking about the real life we wanted.
Continuing to have imaginary lives as a grown-up provides the same benefits. Imaginary lives can lift us out of the doldrums, can distract us from the tediousness of everyday life, and can help us direct the next phase of our existence.
I'll try to clarify by sharing some of my imaginary lives. As a child, I imagined I would have a pack of children, 10 or 12 at least. As life worked out, I have one child and two stepchildren. Am I disappointed that my imaginary life didn't come to fruition? NO! Why did I want all those children? I wanted many children because I love to nurture people. I love to see people become the best they can be. So, I channelled all of that nurturing energy into people I have met that needed nurturing. Some of these were short-term relationships, but many of them are enduring lifetime relationships that are precious to me. These people are the family I chose. This is how you can use your imaginary life to enrich your actual life.
I have an imaginary life where I am very active in animal rescue, and foster dogs until they can find a permanent home. In reality, I have two very needy and not happy to share dogs that would freak out if I brought a foster dog into my home. To manage the gap between my real life and my imaginary life, I imagine a time when I have no dog, and think I am too old to make the 17-18 year commitment to a puppy. In my imaginary life, at that point I will have a series of foster dogs. Satisfying my imaginary life, and my need for canine companionship, without worrying about what will become of my companion when I die.
I also have a completely ridiculous imaginary life, where my book becomes a best-seller, I get to be on all the talk shows, and George Clooney plays the role of Jean-Luc. Do I really imagine any of that will happen? No, but it sure is fun to think about.
This is but a sample of my imaginary lives. To be honest, I have thousands of them.
Using your imaginary lives to entertain yourself, to comfort yourself, and to help define what you really want is a very helpful and empowering thing. Used correctly, your imaginary lives can help you define the real life you want, and help you identify alternative strategies that will satisfy the needs you have, and help you to be happy with the real life you live.
And by the way, that princess wave I perfected as a child? A great tool to entertain the crowd when I pass them in a road race. And it works even without the tiara and wand.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Opportunity Cost
So I haven't posted a lot lately, because I just haven't had much to say. Those who know me really well are stunned into silence right now. It wasn't really that I didn't have much to say, it really was that I couldn't figure out how to coalesce those thoughts into a coherent written post.
Then this morning, my sister-in-law posted a link to an article about a phenomenon called FOMO, or Fear of Missing Out. I never knew such a thing existed, and now reading that one article has stoked me for numerous blog postings. Thanks, Kath.
I'll get to the FOMO thing in a later blog, but it triggered a thought that was a gift from one of the great leaders I worked for in my career.
This leader, in addition to asking us to think about budget and human resource management when prioritizing work, asked us to think about opportunity cost. Here is the simple explanation of opportunity cost. Everything you decide to do removes the opportunity to do something else. I can sleep late, or I can write my blog early in the morning. I can go on vacation, but I will miss an event in New Orleans while I am gone. I can decide to write a book, but I will have less time for something else. I think you all get the concept now.
Since I learned to think in terms of opportunity cost, it has helped me tremendously. When I decide how to spend my time, it is with full acknowledgement that I am not doing something else with that time. Don't get me wrong, I still waste time, but I decide I want to take the opportunity to waste time.
This concept of opportunity cost has really helped me focus and prioritize. I spend a lot of time walking, which gives me the opportunity to spend a lot of time thinking. I don't think there is anything that I value more. This sometimes takes the opportunity to write my book, or my blog, but I'm good with that, because the walking feeds my soul most of all.
Sometimes, I just sit on the couch and pet my dogs. The opportunity cost for that is that my house is never as clean as I want it to be, and I don't call my friends as often as I feel like I should, but my dogs love me so unconditionally, and ask for so little, the opportunity cost is well worth it.
I retired early to have the opportunity to spend more time with my husband. The opportunity cost was a pretty good salary, but we have enough, so the opportunity cost was worth it. I can only make memories for a fixed amount of time, which is an unknown variable. No amount of money was worth losing the opportunity to make those memories.
Life will always be a series of compromises, of giving something up to get something else. Thinking in terms of opportunity cost has given me an illusion of control. By thinking about what I am giving up to be doing what I am doing, I pretend I have more control than I do.
It also helps me avoid regrets, and that I will talk about in a future blog post about having a deliberate life.
So, as you go about your tomorrows, think about the opportunity cost for how you decide to spend your time. For most of us, many hours have to be spent working, but we are buying the opportunity for other activities with that investment of time. For the lucky ones, we actually get to feel good about the contribution we make in our working hours, a double bonus.
I've posted before about how little control we have over our lives. Thinking in terms of opportunity cost helps preserve the illusion of control, but not in a bad way.
It somewhat explains why I never experience FOMO, but we'll discuss that in a future post. I hope that all reading take the time to think about the opportunity costs of your decisions for how to spend your time, and learn to feel happy about the choices you are making.
Then this morning, my sister-in-law posted a link to an article about a phenomenon called FOMO, or Fear of Missing Out. I never knew such a thing existed, and now reading that one article has stoked me for numerous blog postings. Thanks, Kath.
I'll get to the FOMO thing in a later blog, but it triggered a thought that was a gift from one of the great leaders I worked for in my career.
This leader, in addition to asking us to think about budget and human resource management when prioritizing work, asked us to think about opportunity cost. Here is the simple explanation of opportunity cost. Everything you decide to do removes the opportunity to do something else. I can sleep late, or I can write my blog early in the morning. I can go on vacation, but I will miss an event in New Orleans while I am gone. I can decide to write a book, but I will have less time for something else. I think you all get the concept now.
Since I learned to think in terms of opportunity cost, it has helped me tremendously. When I decide how to spend my time, it is with full acknowledgement that I am not doing something else with that time. Don't get me wrong, I still waste time, but I decide I want to take the opportunity to waste time.
This concept of opportunity cost has really helped me focus and prioritize. I spend a lot of time walking, which gives me the opportunity to spend a lot of time thinking. I don't think there is anything that I value more. This sometimes takes the opportunity to write my book, or my blog, but I'm good with that, because the walking feeds my soul most of all.
Sometimes, I just sit on the couch and pet my dogs. The opportunity cost for that is that my house is never as clean as I want it to be, and I don't call my friends as often as I feel like I should, but my dogs love me so unconditionally, and ask for so little, the opportunity cost is well worth it.
I retired early to have the opportunity to spend more time with my husband. The opportunity cost was a pretty good salary, but we have enough, so the opportunity cost was worth it. I can only make memories for a fixed amount of time, which is an unknown variable. No amount of money was worth losing the opportunity to make those memories.
Life will always be a series of compromises, of giving something up to get something else. Thinking in terms of opportunity cost has given me an illusion of control. By thinking about what I am giving up to be doing what I am doing, I pretend I have more control than I do.
It also helps me avoid regrets, and that I will talk about in a future blog post about having a deliberate life.
So, as you go about your tomorrows, think about the opportunity cost for how you decide to spend your time. For most of us, many hours have to be spent working, but we are buying the opportunity for other activities with that investment of time. For the lucky ones, we actually get to feel good about the contribution we make in our working hours, a double bonus.
I've posted before about how little control we have over our lives. Thinking in terms of opportunity cost helps preserve the illusion of control, but not in a bad way.
It somewhat explains why I never experience FOMO, but we'll discuss that in a future post. I hope that all reading take the time to think about the opportunity costs of your decisions for how to spend your time, and learn to feel happy about the choices you are making.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
On being a good human
Sunday one of the readings at church struck a chord in me. I know I must have heard or read this biblical passage before, but I guess my heart was just open to it this time. The reading was from the letter of St Paul to the Ephesians, and the text was from chapter 4.
This is the passage, as presented by ebible.org:
This one really got me to thinking. For Christians, this is a direct instruction to be nice. To be perfectly honest, many professed Christians seem to have missed this instruction.
Then I thought about how just about every organized religion has some sort of instruction like this, and for the non-religious, we have the ethic of reciprocity.
So why is there so much anger and malice in people? Why is it so hard to be kind to one another?
It kind of breaks my heart that so many good people who are doing incredibly good things are still judgmental and unkind to others.
Just because someone makes a decision that doesn't fit into your personal belief system, they are not a bad person.
There are people that do things that are almost universally regarded as bad, evil or wrong, and I'm not talking about those things. I'm talking about mistakes, or desperate decisions, or terrible indecision that leads to a bad outcome.
Why is it so hard to find compassion and tenderheartedness for each other?
I have made many mistakes in my 55 years on earth. I have made decisions that I thought were the right decision at the time, that I now regret. I avoided making decisions that I should have made, and that avoidance brought more pain and disharmony into the cosmos. I did the best I could imagine sometimes, and in retrospect, I should have done better.
I can't change my past, but I can use my mistakes to make me more compassionate and tenderhearted in my present and future.
I truly believe most humans are doing the very best they can at any given moment. Everyone's best looks different. Everyone is coming from a different normal. With compassion and tenderheartedness, we create the opportunity to help others see a more loving path. With anger and malice we close the door on communication.
The more each of us do to bring good karma, compassion and tenderness to the universe, the greater the pool of good to draw from will be.
I am going to try my best to "Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, outcry, and slander, be put away from you, with all malice."
This does not mean I will not speak out against injustice. It simply means I will try to stand up for what I believe is a more loving and compassionate answer without bringing harm to the human I am trying to help see a different path.
We are all going to make mistakes. Let's try harder to meet those mistakes with compassion rather than anger.
This is the passage, as presented by ebible.org:
Don’t grieve the Holy Spirit of God, in whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. 4:31 Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, outcry, and slander, be put away from you, with all malice. 4:32 And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, just as God also in Christ forgave you.If you follow my blog, you know that I'm out of sorts with the Catholic Church, and specifically my parish right now, but I still go. I'll be honest, after the readings, if the homily is going in a direction I don't endorse, I just tune it out and meditate on the readings.
This one really got me to thinking. For Christians, this is a direct instruction to be nice. To be perfectly honest, many professed Christians seem to have missed this instruction.
Then I thought about how just about every organized religion has some sort of instruction like this, and for the non-religious, we have the ethic of reciprocity.
So why is there so much anger and malice in people? Why is it so hard to be kind to one another?
It kind of breaks my heart that so many good people who are doing incredibly good things are still judgmental and unkind to others.
Just because someone makes a decision that doesn't fit into your personal belief system, they are not a bad person.
There are people that do things that are almost universally regarded as bad, evil or wrong, and I'm not talking about those things. I'm talking about mistakes, or desperate decisions, or terrible indecision that leads to a bad outcome.
Why is it so hard to find compassion and tenderheartedness for each other?
I have made many mistakes in my 55 years on earth. I have made decisions that I thought were the right decision at the time, that I now regret. I avoided making decisions that I should have made, and that avoidance brought more pain and disharmony into the cosmos. I did the best I could imagine sometimes, and in retrospect, I should have done better.
I can't change my past, but I can use my mistakes to make me more compassionate and tenderhearted in my present and future.
I truly believe most humans are doing the very best they can at any given moment. Everyone's best looks different. Everyone is coming from a different normal. With compassion and tenderheartedness, we create the opportunity to help others see a more loving path. With anger and malice we close the door on communication.
The more each of us do to bring good karma, compassion and tenderness to the universe, the greater the pool of good to draw from will be.
I am going to try my best to "Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, outcry, and slander, be put away from you, with all malice."
This does not mean I will not speak out against injustice. It simply means I will try to stand up for what I believe is a more loving and compassionate answer without bringing harm to the human I am trying to help see a different path.
We are all going to make mistakes. Let's try harder to meet those mistakes with compassion rather than anger.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
The luxury of clean laundry
You can ask anyone who knows me really well, and they will tell you that I love laundry. My love affair with laundry started at an early age, when it was part of my chores to take the family's laundry to the laundromat to wash, dry and fold.
I'll be honest, I resented that chore. But then I came to love it. There is nothing quite like the smell and feel of freshly laundered clothes. And the sense of accomplishment! Empty laundry baskets and full closets and dresser drawers.
Yesterday, as I was folding and putting away yet another load of laundry, I thought about how lucky I am.
There was a time in my life when I had to think about how much money I had to figure out how much laundry I could afford to do. Sometimes, the sheets and towels just had to wait until I could work some overtime, or pick up extra hours at my second job.
There were times when essentials were hand washed in the kitchen sink, and hung in the bathroom to dry, because there was just no money for the laundromat.
Now, I have a beautiful red front loading washer and dryer right in my house. I can do laundry anytime I want to.
Sometimes it is hard to remember that something as simple as doing laundry whenever you want to is really a privilege. That having enough clothes to complain about how much laundry is piled up is also a privilege.
As I get older, I find myself more and more aware of how lucky I have been in life. I had a career I greatly enjoyed, and got well compensated for it. I have a devoted, healthy husband, who I have tons of fun hanging out with. I have a beautiful, healthy and financially independent daughter. I have two healthy and financially independent stepsons. I have two incredibly amusing dogs.
I have a wonderful brother, two amazing sisters, and great in-laws. I have amazing nieces and nephews, and some of them have amazing children. I have dozens of cousins and extended family that I genuinely like. I have the most amazing friends, of all ages, and all over the world.
I never worry about where I'm going to sleep, or if I'm going to eat. And I have all the clean laundry I could possibly want.
It is easy to take the good things for granted. I'm trying to never do that. There are too many people that don't enjoy the bounty I have. The least I can do is appreciate how blessed I am.
I'll be honest, I resented that chore. But then I came to love it. There is nothing quite like the smell and feel of freshly laundered clothes. And the sense of accomplishment! Empty laundry baskets and full closets and dresser drawers.
Yesterday, as I was folding and putting away yet another load of laundry, I thought about how lucky I am.
There was a time in my life when I had to think about how much money I had to figure out how much laundry I could afford to do. Sometimes, the sheets and towels just had to wait until I could work some overtime, or pick up extra hours at my second job.
There were times when essentials were hand washed in the kitchen sink, and hung in the bathroom to dry, because there was just no money for the laundromat.
Now, I have a beautiful red front loading washer and dryer right in my house. I can do laundry anytime I want to.
Sometimes it is hard to remember that something as simple as doing laundry whenever you want to is really a privilege. That having enough clothes to complain about how much laundry is piled up is also a privilege.
As I get older, I find myself more and more aware of how lucky I have been in life. I had a career I greatly enjoyed, and got well compensated for it. I have a devoted, healthy husband, who I have tons of fun hanging out with. I have a beautiful, healthy and financially independent daughter. I have two healthy and financially independent stepsons. I have two incredibly amusing dogs.
I have a wonderful brother, two amazing sisters, and great in-laws. I have amazing nieces and nephews, and some of them have amazing children. I have dozens of cousins and extended family that I genuinely like. I have the most amazing friends, of all ages, and all over the world.
I never worry about where I'm going to sleep, or if I'm going to eat. And I have all the clean laundry I could possibly want.
It is easy to take the good things for granted. I'm trying to never do that. There are too many people that don't enjoy the bounty I have. The least I can do is appreciate how blessed I am.
Friday, August 7, 2015
How old am I?
I took a quiz this morning on Facebook, which purported to be able to determine your age based on your political positions. My computed age was 26, based on the fact that I am very much a liberal on social issues and the environment.
I have one of those fancy scales that I weigh myself on. It gives weight, age, body fat %, muscle mass weight and basic calorie burn per day (plus a couple I can't remember). Yesterday (didn't pay attention this morning) I was 27 according to my scale.
Really, I'm 55 years old, chronologically. What does age really mean?
Why do we place so much importance on how many days we have been on the planet? Isn't it more important to make every day on the planet count for something?
The take away message I got from the Facebook poll is that most people get less optimistic, less generous, and less thoughtful as they age. Egads! What a terrible algorithm, even if it proves out.
My scale tells me that maintaining a healthy weight, muscle mass and body fat percentage indicate youth. Yikes! There are a lot of us old fogies who are trying our best to keep those numbers in line.
I realize that the more time you spend on the planet, the more opportunities you have for being disappointed, for seeing tragedy, for feeling left out, or cheated, or lonely. But you also have more opportunity to be delightfully surprised, to see miracles, to find more social circles, to have more victories, to bond tightly to each other.
Are we born with a propensity to optimism, pessimism or realism? Or do we become what we nurture?
For years, I classified my self as a pragmatic realist. I know that things will not always go the way I want them to. I know some people will behave in less than optimum ways. I know that not every kindness will be met with kindness. So, for most of my life, I haven't gotten really upset when things don't go my way. I expect that to be reality.
What I've come to understand about myself is this pragmatic realism has allowed me to be a basically happy person, who never loses hope that the world can be a better place. Because sometimes things turn out better than I expected. And sometimes people do amazingly nice things. And sometimes I find unexpected kindnesses.
All of us are more vulnerable to sadness and disappointment when we don't take time to recharge our batteries. I love to be outside, and I love to walk. So, even though it can be physically exhausting to walk every day that I can, walking is so emotionally restorative for me I hate to miss a day. The happy by-product of this is good numbers on the scale.
The combination of expecting negative outcomes and being delighted when they don't manifest, and restoring my equilibrium with walking is that I am enjoying almost every day on the planet. It is not that I don't have bad days, or sad days. It is just that there are good moments in almost every day.
I don't know what it is like if you are born with an optimistic or pessimistic nature, but I know that nurturing yourself is always the right answer.
Spend enough time with yourself to know what makes you happy, what recharges your soul. Then spend time doing what you need to do for yourself. It is never too late to start taking care of yourself, physically and emotionally.
There is no way of knowing how many days you have, and it really doesn't matter. What matters is making every day you have count by making someone's day better. And it is perfectly OK if the someone whose day you make better is you.
I have one of those fancy scales that I weigh myself on. It gives weight, age, body fat %, muscle mass weight and basic calorie burn per day (plus a couple I can't remember). Yesterday (didn't pay attention this morning) I was 27 according to my scale.
Really, I'm 55 years old, chronologically. What does age really mean?
Why do we place so much importance on how many days we have been on the planet? Isn't it more important to make every day on the planet count for something?
The take away message I got from the Facebook poll is that most people get less optimistic, less generous, and less thoughtful as they age. Egads! What a terrible algorithm, even if it proves out.
My scale tells me that maintaining a healthy weight, muscle mass and body fat percentage indicate youth. Yikes! There are a lot of us old fogies who are trying our best to keep those numbers in line.
I realize that the more time you spend on the planet, the more opportunities you have for being disappointed, for seeing tragedy, for feeling left out, or cheated, or lonely. But you also have more opportunity to be delightfully surprised, to see miracles, to find more social circles, to have more victories, to bond tightly to each other.
Are we born with a propensity to optimism, pessimism or realism? Or do we become what we nurture?
For years, I classified my self as a pragmatic realist. I know that things will not always go the way I want them to. I know some people will behave in less than optimum ways. I know that not every kindness will be met with kindness. So, for most of my life, I haven't gotten really upset when things don't go my way. I expect that to be reality.
What I've come to understand about myself is this pragmatic realism has allowed me to be a basically happy person, who never loses hope that the world can be a better place. Because sometimes things turn out better than I expected. And sometimes people do amazingly nice things. And sometimes I find unexpected kindnesses.
All of us are more vulnerable to sadness and disappointment when we don't take time to recharge our batteries. I love to be outside, and I love to walk. So, even though it can be physically exhausting to walk every day that I can, walking is so emotionally restorative for me I hate to miss a day. The happy by-product of this is good numbers on the scale.
The combination of expecting negative outcomes and being delighted when they don't manifest, and restoring my equilibrium with walking is that I am enjoying almost every day on the planet. It is not that I don't have bad days, or sad days. It is just that there are good moments in almost every day.
I don't know what it is like if you are born with an optimistic or pessimistic nature, but I know that nurturing yourself is always the right answer.
Spend enough time with yourself to know what makes you happy, what recharges your soul. Then spend time doing what you need to do for yourself. It is never too late to start taking care of yourself, physically and emotionally.
There is no way of knowing how many days you have, and it really doesn't matter. What matters is making every day you have count by making someone's day better. And it is perfectly OK if the someone whose day you make better is you.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Home
2015 has not been the year I expected it to be, but then, no year ever is. This year has included an amazing amount of travel compared to what I pictured, and most of the travel was related to family.
That could be a good thing, but this year the travel has been for four funerals and a very sick mother-in-law. I have come to appreciate how much I love my home.
Followers of this blog will have noticed that it has been 10 days since I last posted. I started a post one day from the hotel we were staying in, but couldn't gather my thoughts.
It feels like there is an energy in my house that I plug into to find my creativity. Maybe it is having my dogs around, as they stay at Puppy Love when we travel. Maybe it is having the time to think. Maybe it is the comfort of familiar routines. I'm not sure what it really is, but I have a hard time blogging or working on my novel on the road.
As with everything, this has made me think about the homeless. I know that some people, who call themselves "Travelers", choose homelessness, and participate in a community of travelers for as long as their spirit calls them to travel. I don't feel bad for the travelers, because I think they are happily pursuing a lifestyle they choose.
But there are plenty of homeless who are not "travelers" and who are not happy. I especially think about the children.
If a 55 year old with a nice home and no financial worries loses her creativity when not at home, how can all the homeless children learn? How and Why have we allowed the number of homeless children in America to continue to grow? When did caring about children having a roof over their head, food in their stomachs and clothes on their back turn into a political issue instead of a human compassion issue?
I'm tired of people being comfortable with children being homeless because somehow it angers them that the children's parents might be taking advantage of the system. How can it be OK for children to pay for their parent's mistakes and bad behavior?
America is the wealthiest nation on earth, and yet we have one of the highest rates of childhood poverty in the industrialized world. We don't have a national health care plan, so the children of the poor usually get substandard medical and dental care.
No one knows what they don't know, and often the poor do not have the necessary social skills in addition to not having the necessary educational and job skills to get employment to lift them out of poverty.
I think it is time to stop politicizing poverty, and stop demonizing the poor. There will always be a percentage of people that take advantage of whatever and whoever they can. Their children shouldn't be condemned to being homeless and hungry.
If we are ever going to break the cycle of poverty in this country and in the world, it will take all of us believing every child is worth a chance.
Without a home, and a bed, and food, the ability to learn the path out of poverty is greatly compromised. Some will find it, many will not.
None of the answers are simple, and it will take a collective will to end this abandonment of 22% of the current generation of children (Source - US Census Bureau) to poverty. Overall, 15.1% of people in the United States live in poverty, and 36% of these are children.
We are the wealthiest nation in the world. This problem can be solved. Yes, any solution can be corrupted by the few. Shouldn't we instead care about the many?
That could be a good thing, but this year the travel has been for four funerals and a very sick mother-in-law. I have come to appreciate how much I love my home.
Followers of this blog will have noticed that it has been 10 days since I last posted. I started a post one day from the hotel we were staying in, but couldn't gather my thoughts.
It feels like there is an energy in my house that I plug into to find my creativity. Maybe it is having my dogs around, as they stay at Puppy Love when we travel. Maybe it is having the time to think. Maybe it is the comfort of familiar routines. I'm not sure what it really is, but I have a hard time blogging or working on my novel on the road.
As with everything, this has made me think about the homeless. I know that some people, who call themselves "Travelers", choose homelessness, and participate in a community of travelers for as long as their spirit calls them to travel. I don't feel bad for the travelers, because I think they are happily pursuing a lifestyle they choose.
But there are plenty of homeless who are not "travelers" and who are not happy. I especially think about the children.
If a 55 year old with a nice home and no financial worries loses her creativity when not at home, how can all the homeless children learn? How and Why have we allowed the number of homeless children in America to continue to grow? When did caring about children having a roof over their head, food in their stomachs and clothes on their back turn into a political issue instead of a human compassion issue?
I'm tired of people being comfortable with children being homeless because somehow it angers them that the children's parents might be taking advantage of the system. How can it be OK for children to pay for their parent's mistakes and bad behavior?
America is the wealthiest nation on earth, and yet we have one of the highest rates of childhood poverty in the industrialized world. We don't have a national health care plan, so the children of the poor usually get substandard medical and dental care.
No one knows what they don't know, and often the poor do not have the necessary social skills in addition to not having the necessary educational and job skills to get employment to lift them out of poverty.
I think it is time to stop politicizing poverty, and stop demonizing the poor. There will always be a percentage of people that take advantage of whatever and whoever they can. Their children shouldn't be condemned to being homeless and hungry.
If we are ever going to break the cycle of poverty in this country and in the world, it will take all of us believing every child is worth a chance.
Without a home, and a bed, and food, the ability to learn the path out of poverty is greatly compromised. Some will find it, many will not.
None of the answers are simple, and it will take a collective will to end this abandonment of 22% of the current generation of children (Source - US Census Bureau) to poverty. Overall, 15.1% of people in the United States live in poverty, and 36% of these are children.
We are the wealthiest nation in the world. This problem can be solved. Yes, any solution can be corrupted by the few. Shouldn't we instead care about the many?
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