A Negativity Hangover

Do you ever wake up in the morning and hear someone else's words ringing in your mind, reminding you of all that is wrong in the world?

It has been a while. But I woke up with such a hangover this morning.

I replayed the conversation in my mind. I rethought my thoughts as I was on the receiving end of that conversation. I wonder how often my words leave a bad taste in another person's thoughts?

I did a lot of listening. Others often listen far too long throughout some of my monologues. 

Sometimes a person just needs to release some words to relieve the pressure of holding everything in. I know I do.

Sometimes we need to hear our thoughts aloud to find our own answers. The same thoughts can cycle around and around and around in my brain and it isn't until I speak (or write) them aloud that I hear my own answers.

It felt different on the other end of this conversation. The negativity gained momentum and power. It spurred on action on this person's behalf and they were glad they said what they did because it made a difference.

When it was my turn to speak, I told some parallel stories and wistfully spoke of the "stories I tell myself" when others act in a way that affects others. 

That person speeding on a quiet Saturday morning? Maybe they were in a rush and heading to the hospital for some emergency.

The truck that pulled out in front of me and made an unsafe left turn as I was headed directly in their path? They must have thought they had an arrow.

No one I know would cause an accident on purpose. A momentary distraction ... a bad decision ... light in someone's eyes which impairs their ability to see ... anything at all can cause a momentary lapse in judgement. I count my lucky stars for all the times any one of the above has happened to me and an accident was averted because someone else had time to react in a manner to save the moment.

No one's memory is infallible. Some of us are more fortunate than others when it comes to that which we can remember. No one would choose to lose their ability to recall what they have just been told. No one. What if it was me? I would hope those around me would simply repeat that which has just been said and not hold it against me.

Then I think of the time I could have very well have been the one with an offensive barking dog ... or not keeping up to the neighborhood's standards of yard maintenance ... or the noise from my daycare ... or the noise which one can hear through a shared wall. And I am sorry.

I tried to keep the dog quiet.

I have done my best, with the time and resources I have, to maintain our house and yard to the neighborhood's standard.

I attempted to keep the daycare noises happy ones (though I am haunted by the screaming and crying I can still hear in the echo of those days).

I think of the neighbor I had when I lived in a townhouse during my marriage. I am sorry for the noise she had to hear. But I am grateful for the time(s) she called the police.

I choose to believe each and every one of us is doing the best we can, under the circumstances we are living in. 

I choose to believe that if we treat each other with kindness and compassion, we will achieve the best results. 

I know enough to believe that all the positive thoughts in the world will not erase the "noise" of the world around us. We are imperfect beings living in an imperfect world. Egos and lifestyles will clash. It is inevitable.

All we can do, is do our best. The best we can do, is believe everyone else is doing the same. Our "best" changes from moment to moment, day to day, circumstance to circumstance.

Who are we hurting the most by holding onto the anger and resentment? Not the other guy. I don't believe in letting "that guy" hold that much power within my life. 

I tell myself my happy little stories whenever I can and try my best to live happily within this little bubble of optimism and hope. Yes, my bubble has been penetrated. No, I can't do this at all times and in all circumstances. But I try. I do my best. I choose to believe everyone else is too. 

I simply hope the person on the other side of this conversation woke up with a positivity hangover. I can hope ...

A Perfectly Diverse Weekend

I am on the other end of a very committed weekend. I did it! I not only survived. I thrived. At times.

Friday was fuelled with family and friendship. Light and easy moments prevailed and it was a most excellent day.

Even the best of days are seasoned with reality. A leak under the kitchen sink. A "check engine" light on the car as we neared our destination. Blinking check engine lights = trouble. Solid is okay. My light is solid and unwavering in its determination to keep lighting up with each start. A trip to our neighborhood mechanic may be in the future. I am still hoping the light turns off by itself.

Saturday was hard.

The good news is I was home by 6:00 and in bed before 8:30. The best way to end a tough day (for me) is going to bed before the sun. That moment of consciousness before I slipped off into a deep slumber was the best.

Even tough days have good moments.

Sunday started off hard. I did ONE hard thing which led to a trail of other tasks. Before I knew it, I had supper for six prepared and ready to go before we headed off to a matinee theatre performance.

The play was great. The company was better. The background noise of Sunday was light and easy chatter, sprinkled generously with laughter, with a side order of food and beverage. Perfection!

It was a perfectly diverse, interesting and occupied weekend. Everything unfolded easily as one thing led to the next and the next then the next.

I slept in my own bed. I awoke to the comforts of being home. Routines were not ruffled. Weather was ideal. I went into the weekend feeling well rested and simply "well". I have come out the other end of the weekend feeling just as rested and predictably "well".

When we fall asleep and wake up to life-as-we-know it in a regular, predictable fashion living a committed life is a pretty fine way to spend the days.

A Most Excellent Day!

After a few anxiety ridden moments this morning, a most excellent day unfolded before me like a perfectly choreographed dance routine.

Everything happened easily. One thing segued easily into the next. I had time to vacuum the house before I left the house this morning and discovered a leaking kitchen faucet in time to call in for help before the weekend officially began.

Visiting was fun, easy, laughter-filled and life affirming.

An unexpected bonus was the addition of one sister and brother-in-law. A last minute invitation worked out like it was meant to be. A sibling + a few uncles and an aunt + a few cousins + an in-law to add some new blood into the dynamic equalled "perfection".

Our departure for home was right on schedule and I arrived right on time to meet up with a friend from my long, forgotten past and two hours (and one very large coffee) passed in no time.

I have no idea how it happens but I have been fortunate to reconnect with people I have known from a few lifetimes ago (she said we haven't seen each other since elementary school) and we pick up from where we last left off (even though neither one of us have a firm idea where exactly that was). This has happened on numerous occasions and I am surprised each and every time.

I live a charmed life. I truly do. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! to whoever may be listening, sensing or be responsible for my good fortune.

One day down, three to go. Every day can't go as perfectly as this one but one is enough to carry me through whatever happens next.

Committed

Deep breath in ... hold ... exhale. I can do it. I can commit to and enjoy the weekend which is mapped out ahead of me.

This was supposedly a long weekend but when it became a rather committed one, I offered to work on Saturday to make up for my inability to work today.

The plans include: driving my son to school on two of those mornings "off"; choosing a paint color for our house's exterior; a country drive and short road trip to visit family; meeting up with a long lost friend for coffee; work; another short drive to see a play; supper guests; an appointment.

Working in time for vacuuming, washing my hair, preparing a meal and mowing the lawn will have to happen.

I look at the commitments I have made and panic. I know I will look back and reflect on "all of the above" and will hear the echo of laughter, fun, excellent company and good memories. Some people look forward to these kinds of weekends. I can be that person. I can.

There is not one thing on my commitment list which is not something I have initiated myself with the knowledge that it will be fun and memorable. Perhaps with the exception of "work" but even that feels different - volunteering to do it and knowing I don't have to go anywhere afterwards. I get to come straight home! A day of work which ends before supper is a gift.

Deep breath in ... hold ... exhale slowly. This is going to be fun. It is! I shall enjoy every moment as it unfolds. I shall.

Happy weekend, to all. May your days ahead be exactly what you need them to be.

"Oh, to be 82 again!"

Yesterday was the 82nd birthday of one of my Senior Friends. As I announced this birthday to my other Senior Lady at the onset of the day she simply sighed, "Oh, to be 82 again!" There could be a short novel written into that simple statement, but long story short, if she could rewind the years to six years ago she would be thrilled.

Our age doesn't necessarily reflect all that is going on in, around and outside of our own personal experience here on earth. But an aging body does carry the risk of health and physical injury impairments as we go along our merry way living our happy little lives.

Mom once told me certain age parameters where health and mortality issues seemed to peak. If you made it past certain milestones (I wish I had a memory or had written down what she told me), your likelihood of living to the next milestone was higher. It seems to me that "50" and "60" may have been two of those milestones. I think "80" was another.

I came home from my day and climbed back into my predictable, comfortable and cozy little life when I heard from a friend. She is my age and I assume those who touch her world are close to the same age bracket. In one breath, she spoke of people close to her who had pancreatic cancer, numerous mini strokes (with the instruction from her doctors to go home and get her affairs in order) and another who had a stroke affecting one side. A mother-in-law (from a different age category) is fighting throat cancer. Her adult sons are fighting anxiety and anger issues.

Wow.

Suddenly I could hear the voice of my Senior Mentor in my head again, "Oh, to be 82 again..."

We don't know what our future holds.

When it comes to matters of health and aging, it could be safe to assume that we may never feel as good as we do at this very moment. Even if we aren't feeling all that spry right now.

When it comes to matters of contentment and peace of mind, we can always hope the future may improve situations which are lacking and will bring more of what we have, that is good. But things never stay the same. Life is ever changing and evolving. The longer we live, the more likely we are to face loss of those who are a vital part of our life.

Life is truly all about perspective. We reflect what we live as we live it. No matter where you are in the spectrum of living, loving and interacting within the world around you, take a moment to appreciate what you have. Rest easy in the assurance that no matter what you are living right now, you will never relive this exact moment again. Sometimes, but not always, that is a good thing.

If I was to take that statement and reword it to "Oh, to be [my present age] again!", would I look back and be pleased that I was living my life in a way which left a trail of happy memories, personal achievement and satisfaction that I was getting the most out of the life I have been given?

This gives me reason to pause and reflect. Is it time to fine tune my life a little bit so when I look back on these years, I will know I lived the best life I could at the time?

How about you? Where are you at? What do you hope to see when you look back at your life in a rear view mirror?

Just more little things that make me sit back and go "Hmmmm...."

Share Your Light With the World

I found a birthday card that suggests imagining a candle for every time you have made a difference in someone's life versus counting the candles which would light up your birthday cake.

Imagine the light from each individual who walks this earth.

I think of the big, small and everything in between when I think of those who have made a difference.

Brief encounters with someone on the street or a clerk in a store.

The tone of voice, willingness to listen and being treated with respect on the telephone, in person, a brief note on a business correspondence. It all matters.

I think of the literal strangers who are making a difference. People in the news, those who are advocating for others, quietly or out loud. Others who are making a difference simply by being kind, courteous and eliciting a smile in the middle of a tough day.

Think of the nurses, doctors, teachers, counsellors and all those who are in a helping profession. I think of the professionals who have turned a day around with their caring nature and treating "the whole person" instead of the reason, symptom or behaviour that has brought a person through their door.

Expand that thought to those you know through your job, common interests and the people one knows at "arm's length". I think of those who continue to show up day after day, giving what they have to give, being the best they can be in some of the most trying times and encouraging others by their presence, compassion and a fresh point of view.

Think of the light shining from each of those souls you don't even know. Then add friends and family who know your heart and soul. Those who listen to your heart during a wordless conversation.

Think of the time someone has touched your shoulder, offered a compassionate hug, looked at you with eyes or simply "showed up" and made you feel less alone.

I start thinking of those who have lit up my world and I feel the light of the sun shining down upon me.

Then I remember the light still shining from those who no longer walk this earth. It makes me think of the stars that shine down upon the world even during the day, when they aren't visible to the naked eye.

Think of the light from all of those candles. Then wonder about the light you have shone.

It makes the world feel a little lighter and brighter, doesn't it?

Appreciate and acknowledge the candles lit by those who have made a difference. Share your light with the world. Even (and especially) to those who aren't acting with kindness. For those are the ones who need your light the most ...

Is it a Sign??

I am not a big fan of cooking but I've been doing my best. This past weekend I boiled potatoes and eggs to make a potato salad. Later in the day I baked some potatoes in the oven. Then this happened:

My friendly neighborhood reno guy was already planning to drop by so I sent this picture to him and joked that all my cooking must have been a shock to my kitchen and this bubble on our new counter top developed. Upon investigation he discovered that our stove gets dangerously hot when the oven is turned on, thus the development of the bubble under the laminate.

Meanwhile, in between the discovery of the bubbled counter top and my renovation expert's house call, I decided to barbeque some hamburgers and hot dogs for supper. Two barbequed meals in one weekend was truly going above and beyond. But I was feeling domestic so I braved the cooking process and tried, tried again.

I wasn't terribly busy so I had time to sit outside and watch over the grilling process. As I sat watching the closed barbeque, I noticed the label on the front panel of the barbeque starting to bubble and become very hot to the touch. This can't be good, I thought to myself and was quite relieved to turn off the barbeque and file it away until another day.

I recently replaced the burner on the barbeque and the fit wasn't as tight as the original. My son tightened everything up and there were no flames outside the barbeque so we assumed it was good to go. But I am questioning the safety of this cooking apparatus now as well.

Honestly. I am trying. I am trying hard. But it is clear to me. I can read the signs. I am not destined to cook.

(The first "sign" was this one)

The mere thought of our newly renovated house going up in flames due to my attempt to cook is yet another ironic twist to this tale of mine.

I don't have the time nor creative genius to turn this into a song lyric at the moment but as Alanis Morissette would sing:

"And isn't it ironic...don't you think

A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think..."