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 entered Central Park at 79th Street. The small, seated area was cordoned off so that Central Park Conservancy workers could clean the sculpture of the bear trio that adorns a circular inlet. I had never seen the careful scrubbing of the artwork and appreciated how diligently they were working to rid the bears of debris. The park is as beautiful as it is thanks to Conservancy employees and a myriad of volunteers who work assiduously to ensure that we can all enjoy all the Park offers.
As I continued walking south I noticed other bears in the park. It’s not that I hadn’t seen them before, but I never thought about them as a constant presence. The others were closer to the Central Park Zoo. One decorated the gate to the zoo area. Another was on the top of the arch that dances on the hour, and a third was simply an ad for an animated short that plays in the Zoo. I’ve never seen a wild bear, save for the imported Polar Bears now long gone inside the Zoo proper. But the Zoo was closed for the day, and the only live animals, aside from Squirrels and pigeons, were the Sea Lions seemingly posing for the camera.
It was fun to discover a themed walk. The day was hot, but there was a light breeze that made the walk doable. I love going down less traveled paths, and it was taking new turns that allowed me to enjoy bears as I moved through the greenery. I wonder what I may discover on my next foray.
Depart from your routine. Take a different route. Really look and find something new you hadn’t registered before.
Thank a volunteer. Though volunteers choose to give of their own free will., they are often unsung heroes. A thank you can go a long way.
Hum. It’s so simple and it can really lift our mood. Hum with music played, or hum on your own. Either way, you will probably feel better during and after humming.
I’m writing this on International Friendship Day. It has me thinking of past friends, some gone by mutual consent, some, as the wonderful Claudia Shear put it, are ‘location specific’, and some died too young. The rest still bring me laughs, tears, and meaningful moments either with posts, texts, emails, or on a rare visit.
I have hurt friends in the past. I wasn’t always trustworthy. I wasn’t always able to set limits until it was too late. Or I just didn’t understand when to speak and when to keep quiet. I have run into previous friends who I must have upset because, though I have been happy to see them, they don’t share that sentiment. I may not know the specifics of their interpretation of events, but I recall not really understanding how to relate to others.
However, the friends who stuck by me, the ones who forgave me, or who didn’t feel upset by my actions taught me so much about friendship. They taught me about the imperfect, human connectedness that is key when relating to others. They taught me to appreciate the differences and treasure what we share in common. I’ve learned about new musical artists. Books have been exchanged, topics seriously discussed. There’s been a lot of theater and film, and meals shared.
Friendship is a gift. Sometimes I squandered that gift. Not on purpose, but by not knowing my value, thus not appreciating that my actions impacted others. Nevertheless, I now value those gifts from the past and in the present. I’ve internalized each and every one with whom I’ve shared an alliance. I have learned from great generosity of spirit. I’ve enjoyed shared belly laughs, and poignant moments. Most importantly, my friends have taught me, and continue to teach me the importance of seeing beyond our imperfections. I have learned to celebrate happy times with friends. And my friends have comforted me when things have been tough. I am so grateful as I continue to learn and grow thanks to dear friends.
Reach out to an old friend. If you can get together, great. If not, send a note.
Send a cartoon or meme with a friend. Nothing like a shared laugh.
For times when you need more energy, take a few breaths through your nose, then quicken those breaths. Repeat three times, First take regular breaths through your nostrils, then quicken the breaths for about 3 to 5 inhales & exhales. Stop if you get lightheaded. Best to do this sitting.
Heat waves are oppressive. I’m walking slowly, drinking more water, and commiserating with everyone else who is melting in this humid weather. I have always preferred hot temperatures to cold, but sometimes it’s just too hot. As a child I’d ride my Schwinn to the Haddontowne Swim Club and cool down swimming and playing in the chlorinated water. Today, I can ride my bike, but I’m going to opt for the indoor version in my air-conditioned apartment, going nowhere, and enjoying the solitude.
In heat like we’ve seen I think less is better. Less activity, lighter meals, simple plans. I have a lot of writing ahead of me this weekend. It makes it easier knowing that I would probably be uncomfortable outside. So, I’ll hunker down, laptop securely placed on my lap, and a cushion to lean upon. Simple, though perhaps not easy. Nonetheless, happy for the space and time to get it done in the cool air. At least for now.
Hydrate. Cool yourself off with water or a cold beverage. I suggest freezing a bottle of water (give it enough space on top) and then let it melt as you sip it through the day. The iced bottle can also cool you off on the back of your neck, your wrists or anywhere that needs it.
Play some Motown Summer music. Suggestions are: All Night Long, Lionel Richie; I Need Your Lovin’ Teena Marie; Inner City Blues, Marvin Gaye; Heatwave, Martha Reeves and the Vandellas
Learn a new word. It’s a simple task that can be enjoying. Of course, it’s educational. My new word today is: Emolument. I had never heard it before. It means a gift, whether cash, an item or a privilege, one receives because of one’s work title.
It’s 1967, it’s hot. It’s a July weekend so I’m not at Hilltop Day Camp. The sprinkler is on, back and forth from one side of the lawn to the other. I have mixed feelings about sprinklers. I love the constant whir of water from the circular type, but I don’t get a break. It’s more of a free for all than a game. With the alternating side sprinkler, I can time it to race through when it comes my way, while taking a breath when it switches sides. In the end, that’s my preference. Get soaked, get hot, and start all over again.
I have on a blue two piece with a jaunty, decorative, yellow bird at my hip. At seven I feel at the height of summer fashion in our New Jersey suburb. When I’m in need of a break, I go inside fans whirring and get a juicy peach. I go outside since I know it will drip. My mother prides herself on a spotless kitchen and I do not want to disturb that perfection. I let the nectar drip down my bathing suit knowing I will go back under the sprinkler to wash off any signs of my snack.
Today I took Lucy on a short walk to the farmer’s market. When I saw the beautiful peaches, summers of my childhood came rushing to my mind. My father would take us to Moffat Farms where we’d pick up peaches and corn. The latter we’d shuck on the porch, squeamish when we spotted the inevitable worm.
Though I don’t go through sprinklers much anymore, I still appreciate the simple joys of summer. Lighter clothing and fresh produce are among those joys.
Enjoy summer fruit. Whether you bite into a peach, a nectarine, cherries, berries, melons, or other favorites, give yourself something sweet to counter the bitterness we’ve witnessed in the recent past.
Bring some awe into your life. View the Webb Telescope pictures on Nasa.gov and other websites.
Sing along with music from your childhood. Whether you listen to Julie Andrews singing ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’ from Mary Poppins, ‘Bein’ Green’ from Sesame Street, or whether you prefer another tune, just go for it, celebrating a moment of nostalgia.
The cycling of moods continues. Today I’m happy. It’s beautiful outside. I get to walk on fairly empty sidewalks, and I’m ticking things off my to-do list. Earlier this week I was crestfallen. Too many tragedies and so much shared pain in the world. I find it fascinating how the ups and downs shift from day to day. Well, really, from moment to moment.
The good news about these shifts is that I know when things are particularly low, they will rise again. And when things are going well, I can appreciate them, understanding the fleeting nature of my feelings. Impermanence used to feel like a threat. I was always aware of the inevitable loss of something good. Luckily, given the fullness of time, I see things differently now. I understand that there will be other occasions of highs and lows, and that I can plan to give myself extra care when things are tough, and I can delight in the glory days when they show up.
I’m grateful that it’s been a good day since I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But even a good day for me, may not be good for someone else. If I’m feeling strong, I can listen and learn from someone in a different space. But, often when I’m not at work and it’s been difficult for me, I don’t have the wherewithal to take in the troubles of others. That is when I have to set limits. It’s not easy since I don’t want to hurt someone else. And, yet, I know I will be hurting myself should I extend myself past my limits. In that case, having the courage to say “No” to someone else is a huge Yes to me. A simple but challenging kindness I can give myself.
When you notice that your inner resources are scarce, see if you can lessen any interactions with those who require more of your energy than you can spare. In this way you can build up your strength for whatever is to come.
Listen to music that meets your mood. Move to that music, whether it’s a simple sway, or a more vigorous dance.
Surround yourself with those who are genuinely happy for you when things go well. Their generosity of heart can be empowering.
Thurgood Marshall said, “The measure of a country’s greatness is its ability to retain compassion in times of crisis.” Yet what I’ve experienced in the last months and perhaps years is an eroding of compassion and care for others. So many are getting annoyed with others, some acting out in ways that are harsh and harmful. This preponderance of disregard for other’s human frailties is hurtful to all of us.
I am not immune to a general sense of annoyance for people that aren’t mindful of others. After having a negative emotional reaction I spend time and effort to bring caring kindness to myself and work on having compassion for those who bother me the most. It’s an imperfect process. Nonetheless I find it helpful.
The pandemic, plus many social and financial inequities have left us feeling burdened. And when we look for support, it can be hard to come by since many of us are among others who also feel burdened.
I don’t know that there is a perfect solution, though I wish there was. What I do know is that the more vulnerable to others’ ire I feel, the less I have access to inner resources that help me get through tough times. Therefore, having patience with myself, doing my best to be thoughtful to others, and staying connected with and expressing compassion help me get through my days, especially when I encounter insensitivity from others.
Perhaps this is the time we can move from a disheartening crisis of callousness to bring forth a much-needed time of compassion.
Try the RAIN (Recognize, Acknowledge, Investigate, Non-Identity) mindfulness practice. You can find it on Tara Brach’s site, or at Mindful.org
Practice loving-kindness meditation. You can find it at SharonSalzberg.com, YouTube or at Mindful.org
When you have the thought, “What’s wrong with me?” or What’s wrong with you?” Rather than answering that question which has negative implications, ask, “What is happening now?” or, “What am I experiencing?” These questions open up an inquiry, and are gentler when things are difficult.
Honestly, the news this week has not been good given my values. A lot of powerful women have been sharing opinions. Yes, I concur, but I have found that it’s been challenging to be my best self in the face of these upsetting decisions. I’ve not been able to separate my reactions from the deeply disturbing news. In this moment the political is personal.
I won’t argue or opine on what this means for all of us. I will say that I find it hard to be charitable or forgiving to others when I feel so reactive. Walking on the sidewalk with a family of six spread out so I can’t pass is reason for outrage. Yes, it’s annoying, but my anger is pronounced. I’m shocked I didn’t make a nasty comment. Or, when a customer service rep is not as professional as I’d like, I dash off a letter to the organization as if I have time, or as if it was a personal affront, rather than an unpleasant exchange.
I am not going high in this moment. It would behoove me to come back to myself. It is when I am patient and caring that I can make behave thoughtfully. When I’m feeling upset like this it’s hard to not find fault in so much around me. And in doing so it exacerbates my upset, thus setting off unpleasant reactions. A treadmill of angst.
In writing this I am attempting to step off the treadmill. I will do my best to observe my reactions and bring compassion to myself and to so many others. We will need it as we take steps forward having been pushed back too far.
Listen to yourself. Trust that when you feel a strong reaction it is informed by something you’re experiencing. Ask yourself what is happening and envelop yourself with patience and compassion, as best you can. Give yourself the space to process your experience.
Talk to a friend. Sometimes just hearing what your friend is going through brings perspective to your own life.
Tap into your creativity. Whether you make a new recipe, watercolor on paper, write a poem, or create a collage, you can move through stagnant moments by tapping into creative inspiration.
Our best intentions don’t always go according to plan. I had all weekend to work on a project. I planned on spending this weekend, as I have in the past, writing and rewriting to meet a deadline. Lucy, who is my constant companion loves the cooler air and asked to be taken on walks more than usual. Once we were outside she was happy to let the breeze mess up her hair as she sat on the sidewalk.
I, on the other hand, had a job to do and if she didn’t want to go for a walk, then I needed to get back to work. She was having none of it. As a dog, she knows nothing about responsibilities. She knows what she likes, and she likes to be outside.
When I finally made it back inside after the third walk/sitting, I was exhausted and knew that a short nap would give me the fuel to keep going later. My naps usually last 20 minutes or so, this one was more like 45 minutes. I was startled awake by Larry, who was supposed to work late tonight, giving me more time alone to write.
That was not to be. His schedule changed and he is happily enjoying a Bosch episode in our living room. I will not be alone tonight to get my work done. My initial reaction after a lovely day, though not a productive one, is to curse under my breath. I can be rigid. And when things don’t turn out the way I expect them to, I tend to be cranky. I blame myself or someone else.
But there is no one to blame. Lucy is a dog. I love her and she was so happy to be outside. Larry is my husband, I love him, and he’s so happy to have the night off. Rather than blame myself, I will do my best to be flexible.
I will figure out how to reach my goals. I try to make the distinction between a problem and an inconvenience. This is no problem. Yes, I was inconvenienced today. But it was a gorgeous day. The work is waiting for me to complete. And I will. Perhaps I’ll start early tomorrow after getting a bit more done tonight. Sometimes creative writing can be about creating the time to get it done.
When annoyed, assess whether it’s a real problem or a mere inconvenience. An inconvenience can take the sting out of the emotional mix
Strengthen your ankles and support your balance by standing on one foot for 30 seconds each.
When plans change or your expectations aren’t met, get creative. Create a new way to find enjoyment or meet your needs with the circumstances at hand.
I’m moving a bit slower presently. While on vacation I sprained my ankle. I wasn’t going to let that stop me from enjoying every moment of our amazing time away. Now that I’m back home, I’m doing bi-weekly physical therapy while curtailing long walks. I only made it to Central Park once this week. In full walking mode, I usually make it at least five times weekly. Thank goodness for Carl Shurz Park, it’s close, by the East River. A smaller park, but volunteers and park workers have created a beautiful outdoor space. Sometimes it gets crowded, but Lucy, our dog, and I walk around them.
Walking slower has its advantages. Though I don’t go as far, I can observe building facades and other block by block details. When not nursing my ankle, I’d quickly pass by on my way to one destination or another. Another plus is Lucy and I going at the same pace. There were many times that I would have to employ patience as Lucy sniffed and stopped to acquaint herself with a certain spot. Now her gait serves me well.
Another advantage is recognizing how getting older has improved my ability to accept bumps in the road. Yes, I fell on a muddy hill in the Andes on a trail to a stunning waterfall. When younger that fall would have potentially ruined my trip, and it would have had me cranky upon my return. I would have been impatient to get back full mobility so I could do what I’ve always done. Now, I can let the healing process unfold as I enjoy short, slow walks, and slow bike rides.
Going slower even as others pass me by is not new to me. In social situations, I learned skills later. I believe that may have contributed to falling apart when things got tough. My self- esteem was fragile, so hardships felt personal. These days, if things aren’t going right, though that’s subjective, then I turn left, enjoying a less traveled path.
Slow down. Notice details around you that you may have missed when rushing about.
Take inventory of what you’ve learned about yourself in the past two years. How have you changed? In what ways are you proud of yourself having faced hardships?
If plans change, are you able to find the silver lining? If not, process your disappointment, and be curious if anything lovely shows up given the changed circumstances.
It feels absolutely freeing to wear lighter clothing. Spring is here and I’m thrilled. Even if the mornings or evenings require a light jacket, putting away the wool is such a relief. In theory, I love the changing seasons. Each season bringing a mood, a swath of colors, or, as in winter, shades of white and grey. But, in practice I prefer the warmer months. If only I could transplant New York City to a more temperate climate. Alas, such are the compromises I’ve made to be a New Yorker.
Even so, now that Spring has arrived, I’m enjoying the many flowers. To all those who have planted in front of your buildings or who have replanted window boxes, I thank you. Bringing beauty to the city is a gift to so many of us.
And taking out the bike when I’m not walking is another pleasure this season. Every time I fill up the tires and start to ride again I’m a bit wobbly. That used to embarrass me so much. Now, I think, ‘what the heck. Do I really care, as long as I stay away from cars and pedestrians?’ The answer is No, I don’t care. Not caring is a terrific benefit of getting older. It balances the aches and pains that have certainly accompanied me into my 60’s.
I will reaffirm my gratitude for the warmth every time I take Lucy for a walk. Though she is comfortable with the cold weather, after all she is a Tibetan Terrier, I have always preferred the summers to the winters, and appreciated Autumn and Spring when the temperatures breaks through to the 70s.
I’m laughing as I write this because in the last few years weather, which was simply information, has become its own news subject. I find that odd. And yet here I am writing a blog post about the weather. News flash or hot flash…at this age I don’t really care. Or I care enough to write this, but not enough to write something more profound. Something lighter, just like our clothing.
If you garden, know that you are gifting the sight of these flowers to the insects and people who are close by. If you aren’t a gardener, enjoy the beauty bestowed by your neighbors.
Enjoy the wind in your hair. Drive with the windows down, let the breeze envelope you while jogging, riding your bike, walking, skateboarding, or strolling on the beach.
Close your eyes and take in the sounds around you. How do they contribute to your overall mood? Find the sounds that soothe you, listening for them when they show up.