Category Archives: Humor

Fathers Day, The Twenty-Fourth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Happy Father’s Day.  When I say that it conjures up so much for me and for so many others, I expect you included.  Many of us have had varied relationships with our fathers nothing like Father Knows Best, The Courtship of Eddie’s Father, Blackish, or even Home Improvement.  If only we could tune in for 30 minutes a week and enjoy the comical moments that focus on the highlights of the best parts of them, with a little silly thrown in.  

My dad was king when it came to bad dad jokes.  I would groan, embarrassed I had a dad who would even say “Don’t bother. Everything looks good this way,” every time I offered to clean his overly-smudged spectacles.  Larry, though fastidious with his eyewear, has taken on the torch of bad dad jokes.  Usually they’re groaners, but once in a while they make us laugh.  Maybe he’s not comedy ready, but the few good ones could be included in a non-existent situation comedy.  

Whatever our experience is with our dads, good, difficult, sad, troubled, no one is one dimensional.  I will always appreciate my father for working in his shoe store at age twelve and thirteen, my second job following babysitting.  I learned how to work the cash register, count backwards to give proper change, and people watch.  I could see when finances were tight, and the family was spending money they didn’t have to get back-to-school shoes for their children.  We always made sure they got a small toy to go with their purchase.  Of course, Buster Brown customers, the families who could afford new shoes for Autumn, in addition to maryjanes for special occasions, would get a molded replica of Tige, Buster Brown’s dog, or some other brand trinket.  

I recognized the lonely ladies who had difficult feet to fit who came in to find their next slip-ons, even though they would go home with nothing.  My dad worked as hard for them as any of his customers, even as he knew he needed to make his sales to keep his business afloat.  

I learned about hard work, and I learned about the unfairness of life while helping him out at the store.  I also learned how to clean a rug with an overused, old vacuum cleaner.  All valuable life lessons.  

Sometimes our dads inspire us to reparent ourselves.  Their best might not have been best for us.  So we muddle on learning from our mistakes, and theirs, so we can learn to care for ourselves better, as well as others others, if possible.  

Larry is a loving father.  He made sure that Alex benefitted from his music connections to see special shows and concerts.  He learned to love gently and learned acceptance as our son transitioned to a young trans man.  

Parenthood can be a lesson for all of us no matter who our fathers are or were, or even in their total absence.  Parenting is an ongoing process of love, patience, humility, joy, fear, sadness, awe, grief, and so much more.  But isn’t that true of all of life?  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Make a list of what you’ve learned from your father, good, bad or otherwise.  See how that imperfect relationship has shaped you. See if you are able to be grateful for something he/they brought to your life. 
  • Being caring to yourself today.  Reparent yourself in a way that embodies the parent you need at this time.  
  • Laugh.  It can be something dumb like a dad joke, but enjoy a moment of levity today.  

Split, The Twenty-Third Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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It was a mere coincidence that we happen to be in Split, Croatia the same day the New York Times travel section featured 36 hours in Split.  It’s about the same amount of time we’ll be in Split, which is a beautiful port city on the coast of the Adriatic Sea.    

I would hear what a stunning country Croatia was. Anyone I knew who traveled there would expound in its beauty and charm. But having so many places we wanted to travel it never made it to the top of our list.  Then I had read that Intrepid Travel, a small group tour company, had been named the number one tour guide by a few outlets like Afar, Travel Awards, and more.  It was then I looked at their itineraries, and the Croatian trip of the Dalmatian Coast fit the bill for time, cost, and interest. 

So here we are with a view of the Adriatic Sea, enjoying the ruins of the last Roman Emperor’s castle from the 4th century, Diocletian.  Yeah, I had never heard of him either. That’s what’s so great about travel, we learn so much while enjoying another culture.  

 What did surprise us is how delicious the food is.  We think of Italy when we think of pizza, and yet, in Split pizza is everywhere.  Almost like New York City, except it’s a walled town with no high buildings. So not like New York at all.  And the fresh seafood is exquisite.  

It does feel as if we’ve been transported to another time.  Before reaching the city center there is a centuries old farmer’s market where farmers come in the morning to sell their wares, from handmade cheeses to deep red cherries. They tend their farms in the afternoons, only to return the following morning.   From there we enter the city gates.  I can walk inside the gothic city walls for hours, getting lost through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways.  When I find my way outside the city walls, the fresh sea air is invigorating.    

And, when I tire of continuing my walk the length of the marina, I can sit watching the many tourists with a lovely cup of cappuccino.  Split has proven to be a wonderful start to a memorable Balkan vacation.   

Self-Care Tips:

  • Look up a Croatian recipe.  It will be something new that will only enhance your culinary repertoire.
  • People watch.  It used to be a wonderful past time before smart phones.  But it’s a lost art worth revisiting.  
  •   Get a short history lesson by going to Tic Tok or YouTube.  Pick a subject or location and learn a new fact or two from the comfort of your home.   

Goodbye Grouchiness, The Twenty-Second Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I noticed that by the end of my work week I was short on compassion.  My go to was frustration, impatience, or barely disguised anger.  It was simple things. I was missing paperwork that had been promised me.  A pair of reading glasses broke.  Or it was a string of simple annoyances.  

I thoughtfully ordered a huge container of white vinegar and a large box of kosher salt to minimize the growth of bamboo, an invasive species, from our garden.  I was already annoyed that our neighbor’s bamboo had crept into our plot of land.  And I was aggravated that the two separate (un)handy people did a poor job of weeding out the bamboo.  But now the very heavy package was not delivered to my office but was left at the post office for me to pick up.  I was complaining about this to a friend while walking, and she listened without judgement, making me smile even while I was grumpy.  

I went to retrieve the box, first having to stop by my office to get a cart to roll there.  I don’t love the look of me dragging the blue covered shopping cart on city streets, but I am relieved to be old enough not to care as much about what I may look like.  I got to the post office, and only had to wait briefly for the postal rep.  I presented my printed paperwork since there was no notice left on my door, only an email telling me my package was not delivered.  

She gave me a knowing smile and told me that my package was not there.  It was at another post office. I showed her the email stating that it was delivered to her location.  Her next smile was kinder, and in a gentle voice, as she clearly saw that I needed cautious handling, she explained that this was a regular occurrence, and she was sorry.  My frustration melted slightly by her kind demeanor, and I went on my way, rolling the cart on the bumpy New York sidewalks until I reached the next post office. 

The lines were long.  I wanted to groan audibly, but I stopped myself.  I decided to stay, cleaning up email inbox while I waited impatiently.  When I finally got to the counter I was again greeted by a friendly representative.  She was happy because it was her last day.  She recognized my name because my large and heavy box was damaged.  I girded myself for the worst.  But when I got the box, yes it was crushed, but the cargo was not damaged, and I could take it back to my garden to rid myself of the pesky bamboo. 

Since I had the cart, and surprisingly there was still room in it, I stopped by the grocery store to replace a few items.  And what started out as an inconvenient and annoying chore turned into an appreciation for how easily kindness and happiness shared can shift my mood.    My irritability is a good indication that I’m ready for a vacation, which I will be taking this week.  Yet, I am pleased that I am not so attached to my anger and frustration that the kindness of a friend or a stranger can’t turn around my mood.  

When I’m tired or burnt out it’s so easy to get irritated.  Just as negativity is contagious, so is thoughtfulness and joy.  I will do my best when feeling less depleted to be considerate of others.  Maybe, they too, don’t have to let a bad mood become a bad day.  

Self-Care Tools:

  • If you’re tired or upset or both seek out kindness.  It could be a worker, a friend, or a stranger who can uplift you with a kind word, a smile, or light humor.  
  • If you’re in a good mood, share it.  Be generous, it’s free to share happiness.  And it multiplies your joy. 
  • Replenish daily items that make life a little easier, whether it’s a mini hand sanitizer, a pen & pad, emery boards, wipes or tissues.  Having these supplies in your bag or close by make life a touch easier.  

Micro Adjustments, The Twentieth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I just heard about micro adjustments. I’d never heard the phrase or the concept before. It was introduced as a mindfulness practice to adjust our perspective from getting lost in our thoughts, or external circumstances, to coming back to the present moment. It connotes adjusting our consciousness from distraction to mindful awareness.  This may not be a new concept, but it’s new to me.  

I love the idea of micro adjustments.  They are slight but meaningful.  I plan on implementing micro adjustments when listening, or writing, or simply when walking and viewing the city.  When I catch myself drifting away lost in a thought loop I can micro adjust to enjoy the moment again.  

I tried it this rainy morning while baking banana bread.  I was half-way through the recipe when I started looking through the cabinets wondering how many spices and various ingredients I was never going to use.  Too many, that’s how many.  So, I started to get the foot ladder to make room on the top shelves.  Then I caught myself sidetracked, again.  I stepped down from the ladder, turned around, and then continued mixing the dry ingredients into the wet batter.  

It felt so good to go back to my original activity.  I completed the mixing, the pouring into the pan, and the clean-up before returning to the cabinets.  It’s a quotidian moment, home tasks, easily diverted, then going back to start over again.  I’m easily distracted. Having a phrase that quantifies that instant when the shift takes place bringing me back to the present is terrific.  Micro adjustments are my new favorite contextual idiom.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • The next time you find yourself readjusting to the present moment, remember you just performed a micro adjustment. Acknowledge yourself. 
  • Name something you know you do well.  Smile, and take a moment to appreciate your gift.
  • Look in your cabinets, refrigerator or pantry and get rid of anything beyond expired, or anything you have that you privately know you’ll never use.  Then enjoy the space created.

Mother’s Day Ambivalence, The Noneteenth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I, like many, have mixed feelings about Mother’s Day.  

As a daughter I knew that I loved my mom, and I also yearned for her acceptance, spending far too much of my babysitting money to bask in the momentary approval of an expensive Mother’s Day gift.  I’d set up Arlene’s Kitchen, honoring our mom.  It was a made-up restaurant in our home with hand-written menus for the family.  Nervous about what I might cook, I’d prep all the possibilities from eggs, any type of French toast or bagels & lox.  As down home as those brunches were, they were followed by the certainty that my clean-up techniques would be met with inevitable disapproval.  No one could make a countertop shine like my mom.  

Then when I became an older mother to a young child I wanted recognition.  Even as I doubted my own parenting skills, I wanted my family to tell me I was great.  Not that it would have landed with accepting ears, but my insecurities yearned for others to tell me I was up to snuff since I wasn’t able to give that to myself.  For many years the let-down from those absent acknowledgements felt like a void that remained empty.

There is no such thing as perfect parenting.  We all make mistakes because we all have our own personal limitations.  Mothers receive the lion’s share of blame while also receiving less than deserved praise.  Parenting is a humbling job filled with unexpected challenges, unwanted criticisms, surprising joys, and a myriad of emotional responses.  

Many skip this made-up holiday altogether.  Whether you’re not a parent by circumstance or choice, others feel free to comment.  Or, if you are  a parent, it can feel like pressure to make the day count, even when you’re too tired to celebrate.  

Perhaps we can learn the invaluable practice of parenting or reparenting ourselves.  Be caring and generous of heart on Mother’s Day as in every day.  We deserve to give ourselves grace.  Being patient with ourselves is invaluable.  Let us celebrate the ways we try to make our and others’ world better.  Simple acts of kindness are gifts that honor our best selves any day.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Acknowledge Yourself.  What is something about you or something you’ve done for which you are proud?  Naming it yourself provides a moment of self-empowerment.
  • What is something you’ve learned from a parent or a mentor figure?  How has it informed your life?  It helps to be in touch with that gratitude for yourself and for your relationships.
  • Stretch your skill to embrace ambivalence.  Think about the mix of feelings you may have for the roles in your life, as well as for the parenting you received. 

A Full Moon, The Eighteenth Week in the Second year in the New Abnormal

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It was a full moon this week.  I love looking up on a clear night and viewing the magical, mystical moon between the high rises.  Ever since I was a child I’ve found the moon an enchantress.  Myths have their place, and for many years I counted on myths to justify my outsized love of a full moon.  In times of feeling invisible I felt seen by the moon.  

The lure of the moon as a symbol of feminine energy resonated with my earliest feminist leanings.  Now at the foreseeable dawning of my senior classification, I am still drawn to the phases of the moon.  Perhaps it is the passage of time that resonates with the lunar cycles.  Or maybe it’s my propensity for relying on my imagination to improve on everyday life. 

Whatever the case, I am grateful to be able to look up at the night sky.  It’s guidance, imaginary or otherwise, will continue to fuel my dreams and capture my heart.  Given my friends, and referencing the arts, I know I am not alone in this.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Do the stars and the moon speak to you?  If so, write about it.  It will strengthen that connection.  
  • Do you have rituals or habits unique to daytime and night?  If so, try to change them up.  See if that gives you a new perspective.  It might have a new insight when you shift your routine.  
  • Shop your closet and drawers to find the clothes that have soft and soothing fabrics.  It could be a scarf or a swatch of cloth, if not a piece of clothing.  Keep the clothes or fabrics in an accessible location so that when you need soothing you have a perfect garment to wear, or a piece of cloth to rub for comforting.  

Fails, The Twelfth Week of the Second Year in the new Abnormal

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I just heard that The Museum of Failure in Brooklyn opened last week (https://museumoffailure.com).  It’s primarily a collection of product fails through the last 5 decades or so.  I’m happy to be celebrating failure.  Their slogan is “Innovation Needs Failure!”  I’m not so sure I can say I’ve been innovative, unless one considers resourcefulness as an innovation, but I can say with absolute certainty that I, too, have a history of failures.

Though certainly not my first or last, but within vivid memory, is my failed first driving test. I remain an anxious driver. Lucky for me and other vehicles on the road, I live in Manhattan, have not owned a car since my late teens, and rarely drive.  At the time, I was 17, did not want to take the bus to high school anymore, and was horrified that I failed.  I didn’t want to drive so much as reap the benefits of being a driver, but I could not face my friends and classmates admitting to this personal and social failure.  

It’s taken me long time to own my failures. When I was younger, I was horrified to share any failures. Either I was afraid I’d get in trouble, or I was afraid I’d be judged poorly.  Though I experienced both, it was my own self-judgement that was harsher than anything I endured by others.  Luckily, the long line of mistakes I’ve made in this life have allowed me the opportunity to soften my judgement, and simply see mistakes as part of the human experience. 

Hopefully over the years I’ve learned from my mistakes.  Sadly, some mistakes hurt others by over sharing, or needing to fulfill some personal need rather than understanding that it would harm some else.  I lost friends given my poor judgement.  But I’ve also had friends who had a forgiving heart and understood I was lost or misguided, forgiving me, and allowing me to do better.  It is those friends, therapists, and family members who fostered change and growth.  I will always be grateful to them.  And I am now grateful to those who walked away because they didn’t want to be hurt again.  They taught me to do better and be better and to treat myself with care rather than look to others to validate me, especially when vulnerable. 

I look forward to making the trip to the Museum of Failure.  There’s something comforting in knowing it’s out there.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • When you’ve failed at something, write in a journal how it feels, and, when possible, what you learned that will help you in the future.  Try as best you can to be gentle with yourself, appreciating that the failure is part of the journey.  
  • When speaking on the phone purposely smile.  There is research to suggest that smiling lightens one’s speaking tone allowing for a more positive interaction.  
  • Throughout the day repeat the phrase, aloud or internally, “I am Enough.”  Experiencing ourselves as enough releases the pressure to be more, better, or different.  

Unexpected Kindness, The Eleventh Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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I left my passport at the hotel two and half miles from Reykjavik.  I was leaving for JFK the next day.  We had had a magnificent trip, and my passport was in the safe where I left it along with U.S. dollars I wasn’t going to spend in Iceland.  Our driver, an adventure tour guide in his own right, was going to drop off some guests and pick up passengers to bring back to the capitol city the next morning.  He would be happy to bring back my passport and drive us to the airport.  The magnificent experience continued.  

I next called the hotel. They got back to me to let me know they had secured my passport and money and it was in an envelope at the front desk waiting for our driver.  This was all done with ease.  The Icelandic vibe was “no problem.”  It seemed inherent to them to be kind and considerate.  They did not communicate any extra effort, nor did they indicate I was putting them out in any way.  I was beyond relieved.  

Surprisingly, I also didn’t berate myself for my forgetfulness.  Not that long ago I would have been so hard on myself for not being uber aware of everything.  This time, though, my mistake led to a greater appreciation of the kindness of others.  To be the fortunate recipient of thoughtfulness was another gift of the trip.  Not only did we enjoy natural wonders, but we also took pleasure in naturally wonderful people.  It was good fortune, indeed. 

Self-Care Tips:

  • See if there is an easy way to give to another.  Offer your seat on public transportation, open the door for a stranger, pay for someone else’s coffee, or create your own thoughtful act.  Be part of an enduring act of kindness.  
  • Let someone know how much you appreciate their kindness.  Whether you mention something having witness a kind act, are in touch with someone from the past who was good to you, or you give a warm thank you in the moment, your appreciation perpetuates kindness at large.  
  • Identify aspects of nature you most enjoy.  If you’re able to visit, great.  If not, perhaps you can find items or scents that elicit your enjoyment. It can be sea water, flowers, cut grass, or mountain air.  Whatever your pleasure, breath in the satisfying aroma.  

Sunrise Reflections, The Ninth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Unlike many recommendations for sleep hygiene, I do not go to sleep the same time each night.  Some nights I work late, some nights I enjoy the theater or other live entertainment.  Some nights I’m reading, while others I’m catching up on a television show.  I do my best to listen to signs of being tired if I’m at home, and I put myself to sleep accordingly.  Inevitably, this leaves me in a perpetual state of never quite catching up with the shows I enjoy.  

Then, in the morning, I look out my window to determine if I will catch the sun rise.  Often, I’m too tired to move and I get back under the covers.  I’ll even admit to being relieved some mornings when it’s too cloudy to enjoy the colors of the dawn.  And, then there are the other days I put on some sweats and walk across the street to take in the sunrise over Queens across the East River.  

Our minds like rules.  I spent too many formative years not admitting that I prefer to assess what I need in the morning, evening, or at any given time of day.  I followed some rules, but privately, I’ve preferred to check in with myself to see what I want.  It’s an imperfect system.  Sometimes I struggle to make a decision about capturing the sunrise.  Other mornings it’s very clear that I will either make the short trek to the East River Promenade, or I will return to bed to meditate and read. 

In any event, this blog has been a motivation to get out before 6:30 am at least once a week.  I like taking pictures.  But there is also something to be said about appreciating the spray of colors from my bedroom window without documenting it.  A private moment of a universal phenomenon.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • If you are attached to your routine, see if in one instance you can change it up.  See how that feels.  Are you afraid of not being safe?  Does it feel freeing?  And, if you are doing something as a routine that does not bring satisfaction, look into alternatives that may support you in a kinder way.
  • When you have an urge to do something impulsive, stop for a moment.  Ask yourself if this is what you want.  If so, then enjoy.  If not, see if you can pause until you know what might be a better action.  
  • When you have a chance, take in a sunrise or sunset.  They have the power to soothe the soul.  

Be Gone the Bygone, The Eighth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Years ago I had a phone book.  It looked like a fabric-covered hardback, divided by letters of the alphabet neatly cut into tabs descending on the paper’s edge.  Often the pages were outlined in gold ink.  I’d get an updated one every few years and I’d transfer the names, addresses, and phone numbers into my new, usually colorful, phone book.  These were also the days in which long distance phone calls were a big deal and we were reminded to speak quickly since we were being charged by the minute.  Phones had cords and were strategically placed in one or more locations in our homes.  A bygone era.  Yes, I have become a senior stereotype.  

Yesterday I sent an email, as it seemed easier to document information rather than make a call.  However, my contacts, somewhat mimicking a phone book on my MacBook, is not explicit in terms of who has which cell phone number or email.  Given my age and my history, I have to relearn to put each individual in his/her/their own contact file.  This way I am calling, texting or emailing the correct family member in a given household. There have been more than one occasion in which I sent an unbeknownst partner a text intended for a friend or family member.  Oops!

My current contacts deserve an upgrade.  There are many repeat inserts, as well as quite a few names I don’t recognize.  But it’s tax season and I must focus on that first before tackling the contacts albatross.  It’s a daunting task so I’ll be breaking it down one name at a time, breath by breath.  

There is no life hack that I know of for having to relearn updated systems.  And it’s hard to throw out what we’ve known to take in the new.  But as technology continues to move ahead, I don’t want to be left behind.  At least I want to stay current on the tools that support my life in the present.  To do that, I have to create mental space.  The trick for me is to appreciate my memories of things past, telephones on the wall and phone books for example, while not holding onto those memories when I’m learning how to use a new iPhone or edit a PDF file.  I’m doing my best to ensure my personal history make way for my present-day life.  It comes with mixed success.

Self-Care Tools:

  • Slowly but surely clean out your contacts.  It feels great to search for a name and contact information without a crowded field. 
  • Identify the items in your life that continue to serve you even as new models get introduced.  For instance, some people love their old address books.  It’s simple and it keeps things streamlined in these complicated times.  What do you still use?  I continue to enjoy my compact, one-step coffee maker.  
  • Remember to acknowledge yourself when you learn a new skill.  I will be doing a happy dance once I learn how to insert my comments into my tax PDF file.  Hopefully that happy dance will be later today.