No one could have prepared me for the beauty of Ecuador. Wherever I turn the vista is extraordinary. The pictures barely capture the awe that we’re experiencing. Going on vacation is the refresh I so needed.
As if the landscape weren’t humbling enough, I faced my fear to ride a horse to a rushing waterfall. While approaching the cascade, having dismounted the mare, I slipped on the mud. My ego was wounded the most, the slide slightly slowing me down in the afternoon. Nonetheless, I have no regrets. The landscape is gorgeous. The hospitality throughout has been most accommodating.
Sometimes we need a touch of humility in paradise.
If you can go on a vacation, enjoy the surrounding beauty. If you’re not able to get away, travel blogs and far-off location books can transport you for moments or hours.
Do something that scares you a little, but not so much that you’re terrified. As you partake in the activity, notice how the fear can be mixed with other emotions, including pleasure.
Even if it can feel uncomfortable, when appropriate, admit when you’re wrong. It can feel like a release from silent defensiveness.
Though cards, commercials, and media would have us romanticize motherhood, the truth is Mother’s Day can be stressful for so many. Whether families grapple with mental illness, death, physical illness, the court systems, mismatched needs of child/mother, in-law drama, or whether there are reproductive issues, or other circumstances that make the day difficult, allow for kindness and caring while enduring the day.
My Mother’s Day started out with a tepid shower. Very unsatisfying. I was looking forward to a longer, indulgent shower, washing my hair, and deciding which light aroma of my foam soaps I might choose today. Instead, it was a quick and uncomfortable in and out. I cursed while drying off. But my coffee was ready and it’s delicious.
Can I move from one moment to the next without holding on to upsets? That is my challenge, as it has been for a long time. Will I be able to feel the abundance in my life rather than focusing on what isn’t happening today? I will do my best.
As I go through this day marked to celebrate parenting, for better or worse, I think I will focus on reparenting. Reparenting is treating ourselves with loving kindness, employing patience, and compassion. It’s part of my daily mindful practice. And, thank goodness it’s a practice since I haven’t, nor do I expect to, perfect loving kindness. It’s an imperfect practice. We’re imperfect, worthy of love and continued care in all our states. So, I wish you a Happy Reparenting Day, no matter your relationship to motherhood.
Write down at least three things for which you are grateful. Gratitude journaling supports a feeling of abundance.
Soothe your senses. Choose a fragrance, stretch, listen to beautiful music, or eat something delicious. It’s a small, kind gift to delight your senses,
Find a meme, card, affirmation or anything that acknowledges your worthiness.
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
Though award shows don’t hold the same cache as they did in my childhood, this weekend is the Academy Awards. Fraught with politics and self-promotion, the awards have lost some of their shimmer. Yet, while growing up I wrote and rewrote my acceptance speeches. It was my fantasy of ultimate success. If I felt insignificant or hurt, my bright future would prove to the world I was somebody. My bullies would see I was special. That was my secret revenge.
I can tell you that the bullies probably don’t remember me, even though that cruelty is etched in every child who was ever bullied. Children who’ve been bullied often have a significant fantasy life. Mine, like a cliché, was a girl singing show tunes into my brush handle in front of the mirror. Thank goodness for my RCA portable record player. It got me through some rough school years.
Now, I’m ages away from those award-winning dreams. But I do find something meaningful in rewarding ourselves for the wins in our lives. And even if it’s not a public speech, acknowledging those who have been supportive are important to recognize, too. We enjoy celebrations during our milestones, like graduations and special birthdays. Perhaps we can find a way to receive an award when we go above and beyond, instituting courage to gain a win. It can be small. It’s simply a nod for our personal wins. We can get stickers, or a new kitchen utensil. Calling a friend and sharing in our happiness multiplies the joy. It gives us a chance to say we matter. And we do.
If you choose to watch Wanda Sykes, Regina Hall and Amy Schumer host this year’s Oscars, have fun. Perhaps enjoying the show can be a reward in itself. If I can stay up I will think of my younger self. Though now I have little interest in a red carpet, I’m simply satisfied to watch from my living room chair.
Write a list of what you’ve accomplished, big and small, this week. Draw a star or a symbol next to each to congratulate yourself for a job well-done.
Create a thank you speech for those who have been good to you over the years. If possible, send them the written speech so they can know they made a difference.
Don’t forget to put on some music and do a happy dance. If you want to do that in front of the mirror, go for it.
We went for a lovely birthday celebration of a new friend. To get there we took the subway. It’s been quite a while since I last went on the underground train. The most recently expanded line, The Q Train, has an artist featured on each of the newest stops. We got a good look at a few by Chuck Close done with tiles as portrait mosaics.
There is an instantaneous sense of delight when I see and enjoy art in the city. I especially enjoy unexpected art. Not only do I appreciate the mosaics in the subway stations, but walking through midtown brings waves of art appreciation.
Though not the same as in-person viewing, here are a few samples of simple and large scale art on my walks throughout the city.
Create your own art as if you were five-years-old. Remember when we crafted art that was so much fun, and we felt good about the result just because we made it ourself? Try that now.
Go for a walk and see the art around you, whether person-made or naturally occurring.
As war takes a toll in the Ukraine and other countries not in our news, let’s make peace in our lives, in our homes, with those we love, and with those with whom we don’t see eye to eye. Intentionally peaceful actions make a difference for all of us.
I don’t really understand Instagram. I’ve heard it’s for boomers. As a Baby Boomer, I am virtually clueless on how to navigate this social media platform. I can send hearts to a photo, but opening attachments, or anything more than loving a post eludes me. I keep meaning to find a tutorial I can follow, but my time is spoken for, so learning how to use Instagram stays low on my to-do list. I post to Instagram weekly. I’m not sure if it goes through, or if people just see pictures but can’t open the attachments.
There have been many times in my life when I’ve had common usage issues. Learning the Dewey Decimal system in the public library meant that I couldn’t always find what I was looking for in my formative years. It felt like a win when I could go to the files to find whatever reading material I needed. Wearing a silk scarf still alludes me. Many people can carry off scarves wearing them seamless accessories. Not me. My knots are sloppy, and they never fall gracefully. What would naturally enhance a Zoom frame comes so unnaturally to me.
Circling back to Instagram, I’m not so proficient with other social media platforms, but I know the rudimentary skills and muddle along with that. Recently I noticed the amount of energy that I spend baffled. Acting with uncertainty. It’s tax season now and I have to pull together all my documents. I feel unsure if I collected them all. I’m insecure to send the needed information properly. The unease of using Instagram or attempting to be my own bookkeeper put me off balance.
I like to know things. Not knowing, or living with uncertainty, has me uncertain of myself. And that can lead me to be defensive. Sharing a few of the many things I don’t know may allow me the freedom to either learn the ins and outs of Instagram or not. But I don’t need to act as if I know more than I know. My uncertainty provides a level of compassion for others. Uncertainty provides an opportunity to learn to stay upright in a boat on choppy water. A skill useful on the high seas or on uneven ground.
I find it’s difficult to trust myself when I’m deep in uncertainty. I come face to face with my vulnerability when I confront my limitations. And living in my vulnerability brings compassion for myself and others. Though it’s an imperfect process, I do know that when I don’t immediately hide my vulnerability by armoring with defensive behaviors. Knowing that I don’t know opens the door to growth.
Ask for help when needed. Though it may be uncomfortable, asking from a place of vulnerability allows us to receive with graciousness.
What song makes you happy? Put it on your playlist or in a bookmark so you can go to it quickly and easily.
Think about some of the things that you don’t know in your life. Rate them to see which ones are worth learning and make a plan to learn them, or accept not knowing them.
Whenever I find myself feeling righteous for some reason life humbles me, reminding me that in so many ways we’re all in this together. I had staved off Coronavirus since February 2020. I felt proud of my record. When Omicron came on the scene I started wearing masks indoors and out. I felt mostly protected from the virus and the cold. All was well. That ended a couple of weeks ago when I contracted the virus and was put out for days.
I don’t know why they call them mild cases. True, I was fortunate enough to stay at home, but it sure kicked my butt. I haven’t remembered being that sick for years. It felt like the worst flu I ever had and then some. Luckily, I’m on the mend. I knew I was getting better when I had the wherewithal to start complaining.
Funny how feeling ill softens my edges. And at the first sign of feeling physically better I leaned towards pessimism. As much as I loathed being under the weather, I think the simplicity of life while healing will serve me well now that I am well.
Rest Up. We easily neglect down time. The rest is what keeps us going.
Leave small notes of affirmations in drawers, on the mirror, or anywhere else in your home. You can write post-its saying things like, “You’re Awesome” or “Be Curious” or anything that has meaning for you.
Try making a new soup. Simple if you have no time or challenging if you want to expand your repertoire.
Small kindnesses have huge impacts. This week I hadn’t felt well, and the comments, texts, calls, messages, and extra care have been particularly meaningful. Larry, my husband, asked me if he could help take care of me, if I would let him. The truth is I usually don’t let him help me. I can be stubbornly independent, even at my own expense. So, I “let” him. Every query to see if there was anything he could do was welcomed. He made trips to the pharmacy to find the right over-the-counter remedies. He cooked or ordered dinner. We chatted casually. Something we don’t often have a chance to do.
In the past I’d get defensive as if he were accusing me of not being able to do something myself. And sometimes his accusations were spot on. Nonetheless I’d get defensive as if that truth wasn’t already fully clear.
Friends and family have been kind. Interdependence can soften us, as it has me this past week, leaving me more grateful and treasuring those I love even more. Gifts can come in odd shapes. Being vulnerable has allowed me to take in those gifts.
I am feeling better day by day. And I plan to remember this week so I can accept help when offered in the future. The kindness of others deepens us and makes us stronger in a positively vulnerable way.
Clean out apps. We always have apps that we thought were a good idea, but that we either never use, or they no longer serve us. It’s okay to delete those.
Give yourself a news free day. See if it lightens your stress load.
Ask for help. Even if you could go it alone, it may save time and forge a connection when done with or by another.
I made plans months ago to get away this past week. I was heading to a conference that was cancelled last January. Looking forward to warm weather and outdoor dining, Omicron thwarted our quasi-vacation. Instead, I am in my apartment lamenting my unrealized trip.
Most of us have had to reroute our former intentions. The only traveling I did this week was mostly by foot. Though I did take one jaunt by ferry to Astoria Park to enjoy the opposite view of the East River. Not quite the coastline I had pictured, but the one closest to home.
I’m hearing about Covid fatigue left, right, and center. Without recovering from the initial stall of all that we knew to be our lives, we are plodding through the ever expanding unknown. Here and there we enjoy bright spots. But just as quickly we are easily agitated by small disturbances. At least that describes my experience.
I’m still making tentative travel plans, ever hopeful for shifts in the health of our world. I may have missed the boat, or rather, plane, this time, but I’m not giving up on future travel. For now, I have books to take me to new places.
Clean out old emails. If you’re anything like me, unless it’s junk, I keep some emails just in case. This weekend, I’m purging old emails. I invite you to join me.
Take the time to unsubscribe from unwanted solicitations. If that’s too much, start with one a day.
Have a plan B. If and when plans shift, you have something else you can enjoy in the meantime.
Over fifteen years ago I organized a networking event for psychotherapists and others in related fields. I hosted it in my office garden and prepared a beautiful buffet of crudité and homemade dips and finger food. I received a lot of maybes, and about fifteen said they would attend. Of course, I over-estimated and prepared too much food. In the end I had five guests, two just stopped by.
It was an intimate event. The four of us were able to appreciate and understand what each of us offered clients, and it ended on a positive note. However, I was mortified that more people didn’t come. I was embarrassed for myself, and felt I let my colleagues down. It was challenging to stay focused with the other women who came. Instead I spent too much energy focusing on who wasn’t there.
It harkened back to parties in elementary school and junior high to which I was never invited. Or times when the red rope was not unhooked for me at Studio 54 and the Palladium. The rejection felt personal. I was not one of the chosen ones.
Since those times I realize I do better in small groups or one on one. I get too distracted at large parties. Yet, as I currently work on a book, mostly on odd weekends, I have been told by so many that I need a platform. That means that I must amass followers and readers. I always feel awkward when asking for others to read my work. Larry, my husband, may be the exception.
I like writing, but I don’t like marketing for myself. It feels too much like my 10-year-old-self asking to be liked. No, thank you. I will continue to create this book on getting through difficult times with self-care tips, slowly and painstakingly. I don’t know that I’ll get an agent or get it published. Nonetheless, I will proceed, trusting that I don’t need to be someone I’m not just to be popular. It is not in my best interest to consider numbers rather than you, dear reader.
Affirm that you are enough. Write “I Am Enough” on post-its and place one on a corner of your bathroom mirror, and other places you view daily (inside a drawer, on your refrigerator door, etc.)
Learn a new song. It can be easier to remember things put to music. So learning a new song is a great way to exercise your brain.
Remind yourself that bigger is not necessarily better. When plans change and you have a smaller event (as in these past 18 months) find the sweetness in the intimacy of the experience.