A three-minute walk from our apartment stands a small lone cherry blossom tree. It’s located behind a dull brick building. On this seemingly empty city block the tree feels like a sign of hope. Hope that beauty can hold up in the face of asphalt and concrete.
As I walked on, I saw so many volunteers planting bulbs, clearing paths, and cleaning up both Carl Shurz and Central Parks. There is a friendly buzz among the volunteers as they give of their time and dedication to bring natural beauty to our city.
I am so grateful for the rare flowering tree on the curb side of the sidewalk. And how enchanting it is to walk through the parks and gardens that provide an abundance of natural splendor. The garden boxes on windows and the landscapes of certain buildings also provide color to our lives.
The city in springtime is a panoply of beauty, we just have to look to take in these delightful seasonal palates.
When outside, see if you can find and focus on new blooms. Notice how it feels to purposely take notice of what may have been background previously.
Bring flowers into your home. Do you like potted flowers or cut, or both? Where do you like to put them?
Find inspiration from this season. What might you enjoy now that’s different from other times of the year?
Life isn’t linear. I had always hoped I’d solve what I considered to be my problems, and then live a quality life. The truth is that we revisit issues time and time again. Even when we think we’ve beat it, it will show up unexpectedly. Perhaps it’s why the movie Groundhog’s Day resonates for so many of us.
We are trained early to think that we’ve failed if we have to repeat lessons. In school if we fail a grade, it must be repeated. We are not taught that relearning is nothing shameful. It would be much more helpful should we be told that repeating grades can be as useful as moving ahead. Can we learn that somethings bear repeating?
I have a difficult time learning steps. Dance classes did not come easily. I much prefer workouts that don’t include dancing. Yet, I love dancing on my own, when I can move my body to the music. In some cases, not on the beat, but with the mood rather than the tempo, I feel joyous. That joy is robbed when specific steps are introduced. I go into my head and my physical attunement goes out the door.
That doesn’t stop me from trying to learn. Luckily at this age I can laugh at my difficulties, at least as far as dancing is concerned. Of course, there are other lessons that I continue to struggle with, even if I understand what might help make it easier.
I put together a Seder for our small family. I didn’t over prepare. And I kept telling myself that I should write a list. I never did. I had forgotten to open the horseradish, which I then couldn’t find. I looked everywhere in the refrigerator. Larry kindly volunteered to go out and get a new jar. He had to walk a few blocks since we don’t live close to a food store. This all happened when we were about to begin our short Seder. During clean-up we found the horseradish on the counter where I left it to open it before the meal. Also, the spinach remained in the oven forgetting that, too.
It all worked out. We enjoyed the spinach yesterday. But I know myself. Through the years I’ve come to find that I am well-served keeping lists. Yet I refused to create one for Passover. The forgotten foods were a needed reminder that lists help me.
I will continue to face issues, big and small, that seemingly repeat again and again. While I used to berate myself for what I could or “should” know., now I am grateful that I can learn from ostensibly familiar mistakes. It may seem like the same old issue, but it is new in this never lived before time and space.
Try something that might seem difficult for you. See how it feels. Follow it by something that seems easy, and compare the sensations you experience, and the emotional response to what comes easy as opposed to what is more challenging.
Keep lists if you like. They are a terrific tool. It feels gratifying to cross thigs off your list as you complete them
When faced with a familiar life lesson, keep it in the present. In the same way you have never breathed that breath before, see if you can be in the moment with something that tends to take your mind into the past. Notice what is new or different in this
We just hit the two-year anniversary when our lives changed in unimaginable ways. At least most of us never imagined this. Although I had plenty of professional experience doing trauma work, that usually meant implementing tools to get through a time-limited traumatic event. We could count on the passage of time to dull the immediate impact of the trauma. This was much different. We had to live through uncertainty and constant change while continuing to navigate other, more personal hardships.
We found out we are resilient. We faced our vulnerabilities. There was acting out. And there were multitudes of kindnesses. Relationships were under a microscope. We lost friends and disconnected with family members. New friendships were forged. Old friendships were rekindled. More often than not, differences were highlighted. We experienced division. For some heartier individuals we worked through differences to find connection. In other cases, it was apparent hard work would not bridge the divide.
As for me, I am tired and grateful. The last two years wore me down. I also found unexpected gifts through walking, conversations, posts, and streaming. Life feels more precious, if also more tenuous. Spending less time with distractions it’s easy for me to see areas in need of growth. I can also better recognize a well-honed habit of self-criticism. I had thought I was further along on my spiritual journey. I was arrogant enough to think I actually knew what that looked like. But I am here, now, and it looks like this. Thank you for your part in accompanying me in this journey. I also appreciate you welcoming me on your journey. For my part, I couldn’t have done this alone.
Be sure to thank those who have supported you. We all appreciate being thanked.
Smile when you feel inclined. We have missed smiles with masks on. And, if you are wearing a mask, smile. Remember, a true smile is in the eyes. Let that warmth melt someone else’s pain.
Review what lessons you’ve learned or how you’ve grown in the past two years. It’s important to acknowledge what you’ve been through.
The weather these past few days lightened our moods. With colder temperatures and snow today we may slip back to a shared discontentment. A week ago the general agitation was palpable. Wide-ranging reactivity was pronounced. Small misunderstandings caused friction. And this was among strangers. Relationships have been strained. Most are not able to keep up with inflation. Families are under-resourced, overly tired, and living with ongoing exasperation. Those who live on their own have bouts of loneliness, especially because the difficulty in getting together with others while Omicron was at its height kept socializing at bay.
Distress seems to be the mood of the moment. It’s been tiresome to put plans on hold again and again. Reactivity is at an all-time high. Patience is worn thin. Frustration and annoyance are way too common. So many are at their wit’s end trying to figure out a way ahead.
For a good number there is a relief that the mask mandates have loosened. For others it adds a new layer of fear. There’s the fantasy that we’ll get back to normal. But we are not going back in many ways. Whatever is ahead of us remains to be seen. And that can be scary.
Though it may take a good amount of time to recover physically and emotionally from all we lost these last couple of years, we can find pockets of hope and joy in the present. Yesterday I was helped by a thoughtful salesperson at a hardware store. In a time when customer tolerance is more prevalent than customer service, his assistance brightened my day. Smiles from strangers have taken on a new worth. And the unexpected generosity of friends has been priceless. I will be taking in any and all acts of kindness Now more than ever those moments provide the light that moves us forward.
Rub your hands together until you create heat, then gently place them on your eyes. This can provide a soothing moment.
Sing yourself a lullaby at night to lovingly put yourself to sleep.
Try a new toothpaste. It will help awaken you in the morning since it’s an unfamiliar flavor.
2021 was so, so long. In this last week I have little interest in reviewing this past year. The fact that I, that we, got through it is good enough for me.
The good news is that not looking back, at least for now, keeps me in the moment. My quandary is whether I‘ve chosen mindfulness or denial. If I choose mindfulness, then there’s space for my denial. If I go with a state of denial, then who cares? I will not decide. I will opt for a “both/and” rather than an “either/or” scenario.
The effort that goes into a binary dilemma is too great. We spend so much attention making an argument for our point of view. The more I defend a specific position I take, the less likely I am to learn something new.
So long, 2021. I will not miss you. I appreciate much from this past year. Larry and I moved to a nicer home. We didn’t know we could do it, yet here we are. I continue to enjoy a hybrid private practice, in-person and virtually. 365 sunrises and sunsets made for beautiful light. Being in touch with friends and family, when possible, brought love and laughter. Reading new essays, books, and articles enriched me. Not finishing books, no matter how highly praised by critics, was pure relief. And daily walks always expanded my vision. For those and many other gifts I am grateful.
However, having to reach to our depths to get through a full year of the pandemic unnerved most of us. Our tempers were shorter, our patience wanting. We are at the final stretch. It’s less than a week until we ring in the new year. For me it will be less of a new beginning than it will be a step forward. Another step into the unknown.
Take the pressure off New Year’s Eve or New Year’s Day. If you have plans have fun and stay safe. If you don’t have plans, enjoy the simplicity of staying in.
Rather than making New Year’s resolutions, think of what you might like to let go of.
Regift. If what you received isn’t for you for any reason, find those around you who would appreciate it. Or donate. Either way, it’s a win-win.
I always thought I was a generous person. Then I got married and I came to realize that I was only generous in certain circumstances. If something was my idea, great, I was happy to offer services, a gift, or lend an ear. However, if asked, I found I could be withholding. Somehow I felt being asked for something implied I was stingy. And I was. Sometimes I still am. Apparently a generous heart is not a one way endeavor.
I started to notice that “no” was my immediate response when asked for something. I had to learn to pause to see why. I didn’t like this stingy quality and wanted to do better. What I found was that I had often volunteered or ignored my needs to give in ways that more often than not were a sacrifice. I ignored my own needs to unconsciously gain acceptance from others. Once I stopped giving in those instances I had more room to give of myself at other times. I felt less resentful, less parsimonious.
Holidays often highlight our generosity or lack thereof. If we’re motivated by a giving heart, we will feel the joy of the season. If we receive with a generous spirit, we take in so much more than the gift at hand. And, yet we’ve been through a lot. Having foregone so much, with more closures happening at present, we might feel particularly challenged to access our generous spirit.
As we traverse the Omicron variant surge, let’s do our best to open our hearts to one another. We’re in for a bumpy ride. I’m going to do my best in finding the humanity for those who make me bristle. I will be testing myself. Do I have the grace to live and let live? Or will I be judging others? Seething through a tight jaw.
I don’t know what will show up when I’m stressed or down. But I’ll use my reactions as measures of what I might need in terms of grace. And, then I’ll do what I can to have patience as I move through the end of this difficult year into a new year in which living in the spirit of generosity will serve me more than holding on.
As we open ourselves up to the many gifts in life, may we all benefit from the act of giving and receiving.
Send thank you notes. It means so much to those who give to us to know that the gift was received in the spirit of generosity
Stay within your budget. It can feel challenging to not overspend. Remember that an act of love can mean so much more than a boxed gift paid on credit.
Regift to places that accept new items for those who might have lost so much. Some places you might consider are domestic abuse shelters, tornado victims, emergency immigrant centers.
I find it incredibly annoying when I’m upset about a person, place, or thing, I’m on a rant, and the individual listening responds by telling me I should be grateful. It feels like a dismissal of my complaint, valid or not, and a recommendation that I pivot to a “soft music inserted here” blissful moment when I see how lovely life is and how wrong I was to find the awful in this grand world we inhabit.
I see the benefits of complaining. I find it helps me to release my frustration, as well as other unpleasant emotions, so that I can find that blissful place on my own. I am all for being inspired, but I am not a fan of skipping the messy parts so that I make it easier for someone else.
Conversely, in moments of awe and wonder I enjoy the wave of gratitude that envelops me. And, in times when I experience hardship and my family, friends, acquaintances and/or strangers offer their support, I am forever grateful. Kindness is taken in and helps me to grow. My heart softens.
When I listen to award shows, I feel badly for the winners who only want to share their special moment by acknowledging the countless others who allowed them to reach that stage, but the orchestra music plays to interrupt them. Though I won’t name names here, only because I am apt to miss some, I am forever grateful to my relatives, friends, teachers, mentors, therapists, co-workers, colleagues, classmates, and others who have shared their thoughtfulness. It has inspired me. Their acts of kindnesses have been invaluable whether they remember them or not.
So, if for a short time I complain, it is only so that I can unload on my own terms, allowing me to get back to a place in which I am genuinely grateful for all the times I’ve been the recipient of your and others’ generosity of heart.
Find a person to whom you can share your complaints. In the absence of a neutral listener, write down your complaints so they are not swimming in circles in your brain.
Remember times in which you were the recipient of arbitrary kindness. Check in with how it feels to recollect that time.
Write a thank you note. We have lost that art, and they are so appreciated.
Sometimes we just need to get away. It helps to clear our heads and take a break from day-to-day stress. That’s exactly what we did this weekend. It’s been a long time coming. I booked this trip before the pandemic shut down our world. I rebooked three times in the hope that quarantines were a temporary inconvenience. In the end we had to wait until the Canadian borders opened up for the fully vaccinated.
I was nervous to take my first big trip out of the country. But I also wanted a proper vacation. It felt like I needed a proper vacation. So here we are in Quebec City fully enjoying the hospitality and food that is offered with care.
The joy of walking unfamiliar streets and seeing the colors change on the trees has proven to be just the break I needed.
Take a break. If you can’t get away, give yourself quick moments throughout the day when you take 5 deep breaths for a short pause.
Start taking note of the colors changing on the trees. What colors do you like the most? Which trees look as if they’re ablaze? Enjoy he richness of the season.
Savor the natural foods of the season. Whether you like all things pumpkin, or you’re an apple fan, the flavors of fall offer so much.
As a young child I delighted in our Magnavox HiFi. I would sit on the scratchy green wool sofa in our den while listening to Rosemary Clooney. Her album, Rosemary Clooney Sings for Children with its pink background was a clear favorite. I loved the track, Betsy, My Paper Doll, because I was the lucky recipient of the Betsy McCall paper dolls hidden in the pages of my mother’s McCall’s Magazine. The other song that spoke to me was The Little Shoemaker because my father was in the shoe business. At six, it felt like Rosemary Clooney was singing to me personally. I hadn’t realized Rosemary Clooney was an icon until years later when I watched her sing with Bing Crosby in White Christmas on the Sunday Million Dollar Movie.
Recently I was reminded of that album while walking in Central and Carl Shurz Parks in this time of transition. On the grass are one- and two year-olds in a safely distanced semi-circle with their caregivers listening to Broadway level singers shaking egg instruments and leading the children in song. They are singing their hearts out to their young audiences who may or may not be singing along. Each performer grateful for any gig as theater crawls back from being dark.
How fortunate I was to have enjoyed the musical styling of a great songstress. And, how lucky these toddlers are to meet up with some of the best singers from around the country. It’s not clear if it’s simply a part of their activity schedule or if the family values the influence of music in our lives. Either way, I appreciate walking past them remembering the simple touch of my mother’s hand when placing the needle gently on the spinning album even when I asked to hear it again and again.
In addition to Rosemary Clooney, I heard Lena Horne, Harry Belafonte, Ray Charles, Bobby Darin, Julie Andrews, Judy Garland, and many more who allude my memory, crooning through our oak HiFi. On Sundays we listened to opera on the classical radio station. That’s when my grandparents visited. We all sat quietly on the same itchy green sofa or love seat. If we couldn’t be quiet, we had to go play in the basement. I favored Puccini and Mozart. The songs felt pretty to me. But not having an album cover to attempt to read was a limitation that had me go to the basement after an aria or two.
I’m not listening to enough music these days. It’s time to open-up iTunes and delight in Rosemary Clooney and friends.
Play music you used to enjoy. Take in the memories and notice how the songs and music impact you now
Take a walk and see what associations you conjure. What recollections come to mind?
Create new memories by sharing music with someone you respect. If possible, listen together. If you can’t, you can enjoy the association with the music.
I just deleted 129 emails from my inbox. I’m not that popular, it’s simply that retailers with black Friday weekend deals want my money. Some of the emails remind me that I looked at something I chose not to buy in case I need to see it again. I do not.
Given the onslaught of emails one would think there’s no recession. And, though I do appreciate a good experience, I’m less apt to go for more stuff. I will not be purchasing one more well-being product that usually ends up in the back of the closet, if I haven’t yet donated it. I imagine Goodwill volunteers grumble when they see yet another foot spa. Clean socks and winter jackets are preferred items.
I was so tired on Black Friday, but I also was afraid I’d miss an arbitrary sale. I made my post-nap walk a destination walk, only to find that the sales were not hawking anything I really needed, Nor did they offer anything I wanted to give as gifts. I’m sure I may have missed some bargains that offered a deal on the espresso spoons we lack, or the ice tongs we can’t find.
We’re so fortunate. We want for nothing. Well, maybe we want some things. The truth is we always want kindness, respect, and generosity of spirit. That’s not something we can purchase at a retail establishment. But they are qualities that will have me return to a store or online site, should the proprietors and staff possess said characteristics. The emails may get deleted from depersonalized sources, but when customer service is accommodating, and when there’s a personal touch, I do become a repeat customer. Because kindness and respect are invaluable. They’re worth more than whatever needs purchasing.
If something gives you joy, and it’s within your means, do buy it. But check to see if it’s just filling a void and, if so, see if there is another way to give to yourself that is kinder, more caring.
Support small businesses if they value you as a customer. And, if you own or work for a retailer, don’t underestimate the significance of caring for and about your customers.
Thank you notes matter. Graciousness is often a forgotten attribute. Sending a thank you is a beautiful way to keep the giving going.
A couple of days ago I installed an iPhone update. I find this new format annoying. I get it, things change. But sometimes the changes come all at once and too fast. I just wasn’t ready for a new change, small as it is.
I often hear from spiritual leaders, meditation teachers and self-care gurus that change is inevitable. Just this week I was listening to Dan Harris and Anushka Fernandopulle speak of the impermanence in life on the Ten Percent Happier App. I meditated in it. And I was as calm as I could be following each mediation. The idea of impermanence is appealing. It helps us accept whatever comes our way. At least that’s my philosophical take. But when I encounter change in real life, as much as I apply the concept of perpetual change, the reality feels very different.
One would think that my spontaneous side would embrace change. And when it’s a small change, I’m okay. But when it’s a small change like an iPhone update in a time of big changes, it feels less okay. I’ve been agitated. I overshare. Truthfully, it’s more over-complaining than sharing. And my self-care is more on the impulsive side rather than a thoughtful consideration of what’s needed given these changes.
As we shift into holiday mode, which can upend our regular routines, I will do my best to be patient with myself. Yes, change is inevitable, and living with change is unescapable. Feeling my irascible emotions while going through change is my challenge. I’ll do my best to bring patience and kindness in those moments. And, when I don’t, I will have many more opportunities to learn how to cope with kindness since change will predictably show up again and again.
As the holidays approach, make a list of what you enjoy most and what you can change that will bring some ease to the holidays. Feed the joy of the season, while letting go of the parts that rob you of that joy.
Remember to thank those who have been generous of heart. Sometimes small acts make a huge difference. Saying thank you perpetuates kindness.
When feeling frustrated or upset in the face of a change, stop, take a breath, and ask yourself what you need. If you’re able to give that to yourself, great. If not, then see if there is anything else that will bring ease at that particular time.
I have always found great pleasure in walking the city streets. Throughout my 43 years in New York City, I’ve seen a lot. And, yet, I always find something new. This past week I started to notice the ubiquitous iron work on so many buildings and railings. There’s a long history, centuries old, of metal and iron works. On closer inspection there are common patterns. Chances are they’re cheap. But not all buildings have the less expensive options. There are stunning pieces of craftsmanship.
Decorative arts can easily be underestimated. In terms of New York buildings iron work tends to be architectural embellishment. For me, they’ve usually gone unnoticed. But to the trained eye, the metal works stand out as a separate entity. A craft in its own right.
Funny, but as often as I go to museums, a repeated walking destination, I have rarely visited the decorative arts galleries. I’ve walked past them to see special exhibits, but like the iron work covering many brownstone doors and windows, I walked by them not giving them a second glance.
There’s so much we don’t see. Whether we aren’t in touch with our compassion and neglect to notice the pain of a bothersome neighbor, or we fail to see the beauty in the ordinary, as we continue to walk this earth we have so many opportunities to look again and appreciate what’s here in plain sight.
Go on a treasure hunt. Look for beauty in places that you take for granted. Notice what you find. Enjoy the surprises that come your way.
Check out decorative arts when you visit a museum. It will be a quiet gallery with a virtual private viewing
As an act of body love, go over your physical being and notice it’s beauty. It can be something small like a lovely crease on your elbow, the curves in your hair, or your hips, or you can look at your body anew, appreciating its presence, its strength, its capabilities
The streets are brimming with runners. It’s the first November weekend, which means daylight-savings-time along with the New York City Marathon. Friday, while walking through Central Park, I came across a rally. It was a celebration of all the countries represented in the marathon. There were flags and delegates from 140 nations.
While I was passing, hearing countries being called out on the loudspeaker from Ecuador to Japan, I saw the proud representatives take in the cheers from others who had come half-way around the globe. It was peaceful. It was celebratory. It suggested to me the very real possibility of getting along, no matter where one resides, or how different others might live their lives. These are runners, and supporters of runners. Each person wants to do their best. They have trained and are ready to traverse New York City’s five boroughs.
I will be on the sideline, cheering my friends, and those I know, and shouting encouragement to those I will only see for a few short seconds. Viewing the marathon is awe inspiring. For most marathoners, running 26.2 miles is not easy. But they’re game and they do their best. There’s a courage in being inclined to make such a commitment. I call it the courage of Yes. They entered the lottery from a position of willingness. They trained for months because of that willingness. And now they are implementing a new courage. The courage of grit.
Grit means giving one’s all, whatever it takes. No one is compromising someone else. Everyone is running together in harmony towards a personal goal known to each runner. That takes determination. That takes grit. Witnessing the runners giving their all step by step, mile by mile, is truly inspiring. It inspires us to be more generous. It inspires good will. All in all, it inspires the best in all of us.
Choose a small task. It can be cleaning the bathroom, doing homework, organizing the sock drawer ,or anything else. See if you can purposely focus. As you do the task add a little positive intention. This is a modest sample of grit.
Find something that you’d really like to do that is out of your comfort zone or is something new to you. See if you can commit to doing it, or if you can take a first step towards doing it. This is a small example of the courage of Yes.
If you’re in New York City, try to come out to see the runners, even for a very short time. You will be inspired. If you’re not here, watch a snippet on tv. Or watch a sport in which the players give their all. Take in their commitment to excellence for a dose of inspiration.
It’s Halloween Weekend and the city is ready for the many trick or treaters at every age. As a child of the sixties our Halloween was comprised of a trip to Kiddie City to pick out a cardboard box with a clear window displaying the plastic mask with a thin mouth opening with two nostril holes for labored breathing that allowed for a muffled song of “trick or treat” at the door of kind home-owners who distributed candy, both great and questionable. My favorite candy were plain Hershey chocolate bars, M&Ms, Twizzlers, or Good and Plenty. I was not a fan of the chalky Necco Wafers or boxes of raisins. We had plenty of fruit and raisins in our home, so I was on the lookout for forbidden treats that I would hide in the back of my closet.
I’d bring one or two treats to school a day. If I was in junior high, then they would be confiscated from the bullies that threatened to ruin an otherwise adequate day. Nonetheless, the feeling of being rich with sugary sweets was intoxicating.
The other aspect of Halloween I reveled was wearing a costume. I loved dress up, and I delighted in playing other characters. The first time I played someone else was in a Hebrew School Purim play at age five. Sadly, I did not make the cut for Esther, but wearing a long- haired wig, and a toga, I was one of the other wives of King Ahasuerus. It wasn’t as fun as Halloween, but it was a solid second.
There were very little Halloween decorations in our neighborhood growing up. A few Autumnal pumpkins, some adventurous jack—o-lanterns, but not much more. Even so, a good costume, from my elementary school age perspective, whether it was Casper, a Disney Princess, or a witch, was a special experience. Walking home, hitting all the houses on the other side of the street brought heft to my papar bag, and anticipation of portioning my candy booty for the remainder of the holiday season. It’s been a joy throughout this week to see young children in their costumes on their way to Halloween Parties, proud to represent a character near and dear to them.
Wishing everyone a safe and Happy Halloween.
If you’re not trick or treating, try some high-quality chocolate, one square a day. It’s a small treat with big flavor.
When someone says something that hurts you, simply ask them “Did you mean to upset me?” it’s a way to communicate your upset without an accusation. It will also give you information about what’s going on for them. And they will know that they hurt you. Of course, if they answer, “Yes,” then that gives you more information about being intentionally treated poorly, thus giving you a choice in future interactions.
Relax with classical music. We forget how impactful it is on our nervous systems. It can soothe us when we are stressed, and lighten our mood when we feel low. May I suggest Debussy’s Clair de Lune or Pachelbel’s Canon in D?
Manhattan is slower to display the vibrant array of Autumn colors associated with this season. I had planned to leave the city to enjoy the same lush views that friends had posted in their feeds. That never happened so I opted to wait for our city’s briefer period of transformation. It has yet to fully show itself. However, my walk to the North Woods in Central Park gave me a glimpse of what’s to come. The North Woods themselves are still greenish. But the walk to and from the north end of the park gifted me with moments of yellows, oranges and reds.
It’s been a while since I’ve been able to enjoy a long walk in the park and I had to purposefully enjoy the walk rather than making the hunt for changing leaves the goal. Sometimes being intentional is an afterthought in my activities. And it almost was an afterthought when I suddenly realized how fortunate I was to have the afternoon off so that I could walk in Central Park. With that, my cadence shifted from racing to find new colors to being curious and excited about what I may find.
That shift was invaluable. It allowed me to view the beauty of the park and the city rather than coming from a position of deprivation. I began my walk feeling like I was missing Autumn’s splendor, but I was able to alter my perspective to one of appreciating the abundance of all Central Park offers. And, truth be told, I will get to see Fall Foliage in the weeks to come. That’s the joy of delayed gratification.
If you find you are in a deprivation mindset, take a moment. Look again to see if you can specify something you appreciate. It may be that it’s sunny. It may be the cool air on your face. It may be gratitude that you can move parts of your body without pain. It may be you like being at home. Whatever it is, it’s not a substitute for feelings of deprivation, but it is a reminder that it’s not an all-or-nothing life.
If you’re near a bathroom, don’t delay when you have to go. It’s a message to yourself and your body that your physical needs take priority. I got used to delaying until I couldn’t wait, because it’s what many of us learned in school, and, in my case, and perhaps yours, what I learned at home. It no longer needs to be that way. It’s a regular bodily function that supports our comfort.
Send a friend or a family member a hand-written note. I know it’s passé, but as a boomer, I know the value of receiving mail that’s not junk or a bill.
As Autumn has created an uptick in activity, I am both excited to get out more and apprehensive as well. The surprising outcome of the pandemic was that I enjoyed my quiet time. What was surprising about it was that I lived a busy life and enjoyed juggling a schedule that allowed me to partake in the best New York City offers. The theater and museums were a mainstay for me. When everything shut down, I questioned how I would get on. The answer was very well.
Now, I am grappling with my desire to do less and my yearning for my old life. Being busy has its merits. There was always something to look forward to. I love the arts and was wowed by so much of it. And, if there was something I didn’t like, it didn’t really matter because there was something else around the corner.
However, taking things easy, enjoying peace, finding calm, and not being on the run provides a type of ease I hadn’t known I was missing. I am challenged to find the balance between good times out and savoring staying in.
When life circumstances change we learn new things about ourselves. In this new abnormal I wonder what I will learn about myself. I am curious to see how I can listen to what’s best for me, whether it’s a performance or a nap. I had learned how to check in with myself more these last couple of years. Yet I am flummoxed when it comes to ambivalence. Do I want to make dinner tonight by taking advantage of the largess from the farmer’s market, or do I want to keep it simple so I have a rare night off?
For tonight I’m making dinner and foregoing a dance performance. I wonder what tomorrow will bring.
Check in with yourself a few times a day to see what you’re experiencing and how you feel. Checking in regularly helps during more stressful times when it’s easy to forget that checking in slows things down.
When you’re in a quandary, rather than trying to figure out via the facts, try seeing how you feel physically when responding to the options.
Cook, put together, or order something different for a meal. We change our thought pattern and possibly introduce something new to enjoy.
I did something Friday that I haven’t done in well over two years. I went to the movies. I, know some of you are more intrepid than I and have ventured out to see what viewing on the big screen well before this. I specifically went to the Soho Film Festival to see a short film produced by my friend Jackie Schwartz and starring Mischa Dani Goodman, a friend and previous co-worker of Larry’s. An unusual but not surprising coincidence. It was a late night, and I rarely stay up late, but I’m glad I did.
All seven films were excellent, and the best was saved for last as the audience laughed and thoroughly enjoyed Unbridaled. There’s nothing like relishing the creative endeavors of those in our lives. Best of all is being able to watch short films that provide a great deal of content in such a short time frame. I find that true for certain essays, poems, and short stories, as well. For me it’s like a mini cupcake, all the goodness of the regular size, and just enough to completely satisfy.
With a busy schedule, I find that brief encounters can also provide meaningful exchanges. A short, spontaneous meeting running into a friend can be the highlight of the day. A planned get-together for a quick meal is always sweet. In line with brief experiences, I’ll make this post brief, more like an hors d’oeuvres than a cupcake. Shall we say a pig-in-the-blanket? Or, for my vegan friends, a mushroom wrap. A quick hello at a cocktail hour.
Listen or watch a quick podcast. They pack a lot in to a short amount of time
Go to Netflix, Amazon, or another channel to view a short film. You’ll be happy to have given yourself the treat.
When you begin to feel stressed, take 30 seconds or a couple of minutes to do a quick mental body scan. Start at your fee and move up your body checking in to acknowledge the physical sensations. That alone can bring ease.
Dear friends, acquaintances, and strangers in Florida, Puerto Rico, Cuba, and other hard-hit areas are cleaning up the devastation left in the hurricanes’ wake. The strength it takes to put ones’ life in order when ones’ home has been decimated is extraordinary. It takes a particular type of courage to face hardship not of ones’ making.
Having to put forth grit to come back to the lives we’ve had, not only takes stamina, but it takes a private inner force to move forward. These were my thoughts walking in the rain this weekend. I realized how fortunate I was to be able to walk in the rain. I may have been wet and tired, but not stopped by the power of a weather system.
So many of us have had to pull everything together to return to lives changed by trauma, familiar to what was, but not the same. Sometimes we’re fortunate enough to realize the strength we didn’t know we had. Other times feel beaten down by hardships. And then there are many times we’re worn down even as we find the inner resources to build anew.
I will probably be walking in the rain in the next few days. I am hopeful that I can sustain my gratitude for the luxury of a light storm rather than a hurricane. But I also know that hurricanes will hit us at some point, and I will find inspiration from my friends who have been through dark times before me.
See where you can help. If you prefer specific one-to-one giving, gofundme.com has many personal requests. Unicefusa.org, is providing assistance. The Atlanta based natural disaster fund, care4others.org is hands on. Or give to your favorite relief cause.
Cultivate a gratitude practice. This can be a daily gratitude journal, a meditation practice, or create something on your own. Gratitude softens our defenses. We can commune with our humanity.
Sigh! There’s a great relief in sighing aloud. Do it again. Even more relief.
The Hebrew Year 5783 is upon us. It’s a celebration of new beginnings. Sometimes called the great reset. We have a tradition of bringing bread crumbs, which symbolize our sins, down to the river to release them so we can start anew. For me the letting go of the recent past to move on is an unburdening. It’s a kindness we can give ourselves in letting go of what we deem to be opposed to our values. It’s a personal forgiveness so we can live better lives through right action.
I love the symbolism in this act. Not only do I affirm the wrongdoings of this past year, but it holds me to a higher standard, which I appreciate. Even if I lose my cool when I get upset and don’t take a moment to pause, or I unintentionally hurt someone, I am still one step closer to learning from my missteps.
Life is filled with lessons. I have a friend who always reminds me when I get frustrated or upset with someone, that they are my Buddha. That person is there to teach me if I’m willing to learn. When I just want to be right, I have the opportunity to bring compassion for myself and others. In those moments, I’m not so thrilled to embrace the lesson, but with time, especially on the eve of this New Year, I am motivated to try again.
Find a way to let go of things you’ve done that you have a hard time forgiving. Create a ritual that will assist you in forgiving yourself while learning from what was done.
In place of being hard on yourself, or justifying hurting someone else, be gentle and kind to yourself, and in turn, to others, easing any internal criticism.
Dip apples in honey. The apples symbolize hope and abundance, while honey symbolizes sweet possibilities for the New Year.