The snow is kind of pretty ...
... if only it wasn't followed by winter.
Monday, September 30, 2019
Good Enough
As I wrote my way through my three, hand written morning pages this morning the theme of my thoughts seemed to be simple. Life is not perfect but it is good enough.
I shoulda, coulda, woulda'd myself to death throughout the weekend. But after all was said and done, I did "enough".
I may be working a few days I'd prefer to have off. But since I'm taking off several days in the next short while, I know the extra hours will be appreciated when pay day rolls around. I am fortunate to be exactly where I am. I need to work and work is available. It may not be perfect but it is enough.
It snowed last night. Snow may not have been at the top of my wish list but I don't have any snow shovelling to do. It is enough.
I was reminiscing about the weekends I spent out on my son's farm. I packed up my grocery supply for the weekend and knew what I had, had to be "enough". And it was. It was more than enough.
I was wistfully thinking that I'd like to have something fresh and new to wear to my uncle's upcoming birthday. I despise shopping. I don't want to spend the money. I plan to spruce up something I already have with some accessory and it will be good enough.
I don't have everything I want in life. But what I have is good. I have more than enough.And I am grateful.
I shoulda, coulda, woulda'd myself to death throughout the weekend. But after all was said and done, I did "enough".
I may be working a few days I'd prefer to have off. But since I'm taking off several days in the next short while, I know the extra hours will be appreciated when pay day rolls around. I am fortunate to be exactly where I am. I need to work and work is available. It may not be perfect but it is enough.
It snowed last night. Snow may not have been at the top of my wish list but I don't have any snow shovelling to do. It is enough.
I was reminiscing about the weekends I spent out on my son's farm. I packed up my grocery supply for the weekend and knew what I had, had to be "enough". And it was. It was more than enough.
I was wistfully thinking that I'd like to have something fresh and new to wear to my uncle's upcoming birthday. I despise shopping. I don't want to spend the money. I plan to spruce up something I already have with some accessory and it will be good enough.
I don't have everything I want in life. But what I have is good. I have more than enough.And I am grateful.
Saturday, September 28, 2019
Hello? Who is This?
Remember the good old days when the sound of a ringing phone brought surprise and anticipation as we didn't know who was going to be on the other end of the telephone line?
These days, phone calls are a rarity. When the phone does ring we have the convenience of knowing who is calling before we answer the call. While this is convenient to avoid telemarketers and the like, is there anyone out there who has not screened their calls with this knowledge?
More often than not, I will receive a text message asking if this is a good time to talk. While I fully understand the need for this modern etiquette due to the fact that many people no longer have a land line in their home ("Why pay for two phones?" is a valid argument), and one never knows where in the world a person may be when they call a cell phone.
It is handy to get a message to prepare for a call. One can grab a cup of coffee and tend to their personal needs when they know a long conversation is up and coming. I actually appreciate the advance warning.
But what of the times when you are expecting a call and it doesn't come. Hmmm. Kind of like the old days, isn't it? Except in the olden days, when one didn't reserve a time slot for an anticipated call, one went on with their life in progress (perhaps not a teen age girl, who had just given her phone number to a cute boy back in the 1970's though).
I remember staring at the phone, wishing it would ring. I remember not wanting to leave the house because I wouldn't know if someone called in my absence. I remember seriously considering leaving a tape recorder running beside the phone so I would know if I missed a call. I wouldn't have known who it was from. I would have simply known the phone had rung. I remember even being excited to talk to a wrong number.
Long gone are those days. I now return home from a day of work and I am absolutely thrilled when I see no one has called in my absence. Or if someone did call and didn't leave a message, I am off the hook. No need to communicate has become the highlight of returning to a day away from home.
I am presently sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. A friend made a notation in her calendar to call me today. This may or may not happen. But in the meantime, I sit here in a state of readiness. I will need to hop in the shower at some point soon but I have the option of bringing the phone with me just in case it rings.
Remember the days when the phone was attached to a wall and your ability to roam was restricted by the length of your phone cord?
I sound so old-womanish as I sit here and reflect on the changing times. It is hard to imagine that these good old days were only a decade or so ago. Life is changing. Too much. Too fast. Our need for connection has disconnected us in the ways that count.
Mom saw the writing on the wall when she was disgusted with people attached to their cell phones when cell phones were new and a novelty item. "What is so important that a phone call can't wait until you are home?" She certainly appreciated the convenience in case of an emergency. But any other time? Can't we just talk when we are at home, preferably attached to a phone cord so the person on the other end of the conversation receives our undivided attention?
My attention is so divided I accomplish very little in this modern world. I have no one to blame but myself but I'd like to shift some of the blame to the expectations due to the technological advancements of our era. We now celebrate "disconnecting". Shouldn't that be the norm?
I miss some parts of the good old days. The anticipation of who was on the other end of a ringing phone brought no end of excitement to my quiet little existence.
Just my thoughts of the morning as I sit here hoping the phone will ring. Over and out...
These days, phone calls are a rarity. When the phone does ring we have the convenience of knowing who is calling before we answer the call. While this is convenient to avoid telemarketers and the like, is there anyone out there who has not screened their calls with this knowledge?
More often than not, I will receive a text message asking if this is a good time to talk. While I fully understand the need for this modern etiquette due to the fact that many people no longer have a land line in their home ("Why pay for two phones?" is a valid argument), and one never knows where in the world a person may be when they call a cell phone.
It is handy to get a message to prepare for a call. One can grab a cup of coffee and tend to their personal needs when they know a long conversation is up and coming. I actually appreciate the advance warning.
But what of the times when you are expecting a call and it doesn't come. Hmmm. Kind of like the old days, isn't it? Except in the olden days, when one didn't reserve a time slot for an anticipated call, one went on with their life in progress (perhaps not a teen age girl, who had just given her phone number to a cute boy back in the 1970's though).
I remember staring at the phone, wishing it would ring. I remember not wanting to leave the house because I wouldn't know if someone called in my absence. I remember seriously considering leaving a tape recorder running beside the phone so I would know if I missed a call. I wouldn't have known who it was from. I would have simply known the phone had rung. I remember even being excited to talk to a wrong number.
Long gone are those days. I now return home from a day of work and I am absolutely thrilled when I see no one has called in my absence. Or if someone did call and didn't leave a message, I am off the hook. No need to communicate has become the highlight of returning to a day away from home.
I am presently sitting here waiting for the phone to ring. A friend made a notation in her calendar to call me today. This may or may not happen. But in the meantime, I sit here in a state of readiness. I will need to hop in the shower at some point soon but I have the option of bringing the phone with me just in case it rings.
Remember the days when the phone was attached to a wall and your ability to roam was restricted by the length of your phone cord?
I sound so old-womanish as I sit here and reflect on the changing times. It is hard to imagine that these good old days were only a decade or so ago. Life is changing. Too much. Too fast. Our need for connection has disconnected us in the ways that count.
Mom saw the writing on the wall when she was disgusted with people attached to their cell phones when cell phones were new and a novelty item. "What is so important that a phone call can't wait until you are home?" She certainly appreciated the convenience in case of an emergency. But any other time? Can't we just talk when we are at home, preferably attached to a phone cord so the person on the other end of the conversation receives our undivided attention?
My attention is so divided I accomplish very little in this modern world. I have no one to blame but myself but I'd like to shift some of the blame to the expectations due to the technological advancements of our era. We now celebrate "disconnecting". Shouldn't that be the norm?
I miss some parts of the good old days. The anticipation of who was on the other end of a ringing phone brought no end of excitement to my quiet little existence.
Just my thoughts of the morning as I sit here hoping the phone will ring. Over and out...
Friday, September 27, 2019
Overthinking
Overthinking has never worked for me. I have no idea why I keep thinking I can find a better way by thinking too much. But I keep doing what I have done in the past, hoping for better results. So far, my success rate has been pretty close to nil.
Go with the flow
Trust the thoughts you wake up with
Let it go
Keep it simple
Trust the process
These are the mantras I keep trying to teach myself. Yet I continue to overthink far too much.
I spent far too long trying to find a way to make some reservations more economical. I may have saved myself $18.86 ... but then again? Maybe not.
I changed a flexible reservation for accommodations to a non-refundable one. I changed the guests from "three" to "two". Now if someone does take us up on our offer to join us, I will have cost us money.
Sigh.
Let it go. It is a done deal. There is no going back now.
But there is another life lesson for the books. Don't think so much!!
On the flip side, I learned from yesterday's lesson when our cat playfully tipped my morning smoothie all over me and the surrounding area. I held on tightly to my morning drink and maintained order in one area of my life. I should have let go of the rest.
May you take what you learned yesterday to make today a better day!
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Life Lesson #1,548,315,654
This one is an easy one.
It takes less time to make a smoothie than it does to clean up said smoothie after one's cat reaches out and tips it all over the smoothie-maker (aka: me).
Yep. My bored little kitty was stretched out on the computer table, reached out and over my arms, then tipped over my smoothie.
Spilled smoothie was (almost) everywhere. On the table, table leg, chair cushion, floor, wall, baseboard, my pj's, sweater and socks.
I cleaned, cleaned and cleaned some more. When I stopped sticking to the floor, I resumed my position and continued on with the crossword puzzle in progress.
There is a bright side though. I was able to salvage half of my smoothie by scooping the contents that landed onto the table into my glass. AND the smoothie did not fall onto or towards the computer. That would have been an epic fail.
Lesson learned? Keep the smoothie away from the computer. The cat? He is not into life lessons. He is a cause and effect kind of learner. I do believe he was somewhat entertained by consequence of his actions this morning. I'll be holding onto my beverages a little more tightly from here on.
It takes less time to make a smoothie than it does to clean up said smoothie after one's cat reaches out and tips it all over the smoothie-maker (aka: me).
Yep. My bored little kitty was stretched out on the computer table, reached out and over my arms, then tipped over my smoothie.
Spilled smoothie was (almost) everywhere. On the table, table leg, chair cushion, floor, wall, baseboard, my pj's, sweater and socks.
I cleaned, cleaned and cleaned some more. When I stopped sticking to the floor, I resumed my position and continued on with the crossword puzzle in progress.
There is a bright side though. I was able to salvage half of my smoothie by scooping the contents that landed onto the table into my glass. AND the smoothie did not fall onto or towards the computer. That would have been an epic fail.
Lesson learned? Keep the smoothie away from the computer. The cat? He is not into life lessons. He is a cause and effect kind of learner. I do believe he was somewhat entertained by consequence of his actions this morning. I'll be holding onto my beverages a little more tightly from here on.
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Life Lessons Are Not Easy
Some of life's lessons are easier than others. I have learned some things the hard way but I have been spared some of life's harsher lessons.
Mom's last year was a gift in so many ways. My availability to go out on a whim, stay when needed and extend those stays at times was something I never could have done in any other circumstance since the beginning of my working life.
I was given the gift of "flexibility" at exactly the right time.
While it was nice to be there at times when we were concerned about Mom being on her own, the best times were when I went out just for me. I was told Mom was doing okay. I could stay home. There was no need to go. But I went. I wanted to be there for the good stuff as much or more as the harder days.
I'm so glad I followed my instincts.
Mom and I had a lot of time to visit. I don't remember the details. I simply remember the feeling. There were times when it was light and easy. Other times were not. As much as I felt I said everything I needed to say, I heard everything I needed to hear.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. I would make some minor adjustments but overall, I wouldn't change a thing.
Mom was not a complainer. "I am not in any pain" was a common refrain as those in the medical field would ask her about her pain. She said she may not feel pain the way others do but she was able to alleviate most of her discomforts on her own.
Though Mom did not complain, her fuse became a little shorter as time went on. She could not have been feeling well. She was used to living alone and she shared her home so much of the time that little things were slipping out of her grasp.
My nature is to step back, give people their space to do and say what they need to do and say and as time has gone on I have tried not to take things personally. Easier said than done. Mom rarely, if ever, directed her frustrations towards me which made it so much easier to be "me".
Near the end, I wrote "I have discovered the best way through these little moments is to drop the conversation, don't push the point and feel the need to be right. Humor doesn't hurt if you can find a way to use it."
Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would be in circumstances where I would need to follow my own advise. When someone is not feeling well, they are not at their best. Give them room to be who they need to be. Try your best not to take it personally. Rinse and repeat as often as necessary.
Fast forward to the present day ...
My youngest son had his wisdom teeth pulled one week ago. He has been in some form of pain ever since. High grade pain, low gnawing pain and swelling which has advanced to sharp, shooting pains. You can see it in his eyes. He is not himself.
Add a slice of "life" - assignments looming, other pressures mounting, the inability to eat solid foods and it really should come as no surprise that it all came out in the form of frustration as to how I load the dishwasher.
My son and I don't argue. We have rarely had moments where someone needs to walk away. But rather than argue, that is what has been done in the past. The time I was angry over a paper shredding incident, he recognized that was not typical of me and went to his room. I apologized later. I gave him the same grace.
A short while later, he came up and apologized. I mentioned "all of the above" and that his ongoing pain was not helping matters. I suggested this to him and he raised an eyebrow acknowledging that he may or may not have added the pain factor to his frustration factor.
My lesson to him was "Remember this. This is how it feels to be in pain AND have life pulling on you from too many directions. Frustration is inevitable."
Remember this.
There may be a day someone directs their anger toward you and it is less about you and more about where they are coming from.
There is a story circulating the Internets that talks about when you bump into a person with a full cup of coffee, their coffee is spilt. The moral of the story is "What is in your coffee cup?" If your cup is full of joy, your joy spills over. If it is full of pain, anger, frustration, etc, that is what spills when you get bumped.
We cannot control what is in someone else's coffee cup. But we can try to offer compassion. I say "try" because we are imperfect beings in an imperfect world.
Life is full of lessons. Some of them are easier than others. Always look for the lesson. There is always something to be learned as we make our way through this thing called life.
Mom's last year was a gift in so many ways. My availability to go out on a whim, stay when needed and extend those stays at times was something I never could have done in any other circumstance since the beginning of my working life.
I was given the gift of "flexibility" at exactly the right time.
While it was nice to be there at times when we were concerned about Mom being on her own, the best times were when I went out just for me. I was told Mom was doing okay. I could stay home. There was no need to go. But I went. I wanted to be there for the good stuff as much or more as the harder days.
I'm so glad I followed my instincts.
Mom and I had a lot of time to visit. I don't remember the details. I simply remember the feeling. There were times when it was light and easy. Other times were not. As much as I felt I said everything I needed to say, I heard everything I needed to hear.
It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. I would make some minor adjustments but overall, I wouldn't change a thing.
Mom was not a complainer. "I am not in any pain" was a common refrain as those in the medical field would ask her about her pain. She said she may not feel pain the way others do but she was able to alleviate most of her discomforts on her own.
Though Mom did not complain, her fuse became a little shorter as time went on. She could not have been feeling well. She was used to living alone and she shared her home so much of the time that little things were slipping out of her grasp.
My nature is to step back, give people their space to do and say what they need to do and say and as time has gone on I have tried not to take things personally. Easier said than done. Mom rarely, if ever, directed her frustrations towards me which made it so much easier to be "me".
Near the end, I wrote "I have discovered the best way through these little moments is to drop the conversation, don't push the point and feel the need to be right. Humor doesn't hurt if you can find a way to use it."
Unbeknownst to me at the time, I would be in circumstances where I would need to follow my own advise. When someone is not feeling well, they are not at their best. Give them room to be who they need to be. Try your best not to take it personally. Rinse and repeat as often as necessary.
Fast forward to the present day ...
My youngest son had his wisdom teeth pulled one week ago. He has been in some form of pain ever since. High grade pain, low gnawing pain and swelling which has advanced to sharp, shooting pains. You can see it in his eyes. He is not himself.
Add a slice of "life" - assignments looming, other pressures mounting, the inability to eat solid foods and it really should come as no surprise that it all came out in the form of frustration as to how I load the dishwasher.
My son and I don't argue. We have rarely had moments where someone needs to walk away. But rather than argue, that is what has been done in the past. The time I was angry over a paper shredding incident, he recognized that was not typical of me and went to his room. I apologized later. I gave him the same grace.
A short while later, he came up and apologized. I mentioned "all of the above" and that his ongoing pain was not helping matters. I suggested this to him and he raised an eyebrow acknowledging that he may or may not have added the pain factor to his frustration factor.
My lesson to him was "Remember this. This is how it feels to be in pain AND have life pulling on you from too many directions. Frustration is inevitable."
Remember this.
There may be a day someone directs their anger toward you and it is less about you and more about where they are coming from.
There is a story circulating the Internets that talks about when you bump into a person with a full cup of coffee, their coffee is spilt. The moral of the story is "What is in your coffee cup?" If your cup is full of joy, your joy spills over. If it is full of pain, anger, frustration, etc, that is what spills when you get bumped.
We cannot control what is in someone else's coffee cup. But we can try to offer compassion. I say "try" because we are imperfect beings in an imperfect world.
Life is full of lessons. Some of them are easier than others. Always look for the lesson. There is always something to be learned as we make our way through this thing called life.
The Best Things in Life are Free
Costco gave our cat Jet the best gift ever. A box:
This handy dandy box not only has three sides with an easy access entrance but it comes with bonus handles so he is easily carried if he is in the way.
Jet was raised in a daycare environment and was very accustomed to going for rides around the house in plastic toy boxes. Those days are long gone but his enjoyment of a good box has not been forgotten.
Thank you Costco! You have made one cat very happy.
It is the little things in life that truly make a difference. What little thing brings you joy? Celebrate and enjoy that which brings pleasure. The best things in life are free.
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