Category Archives: Love

Ai Instillation, The Twenty-Eighth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I was tired, it was hot, and I was happy to be at MOMA, the Museum of Modern Art, on West 53rd Street.  The galleries were crowded, but I took my time enjoying new exhibitions and old favorites. After the slow perusal of four floors, I was spent.  But I still had almost an hour before our dinner reservation down the block.  

Lucky for me there’s an AI instillation that is a moving abstract representation, a curiously, animated piece, of the museum’s art collection. There are seats and cushions to view the instillation.  Fortunately I snagged a seat when a gentleman, probably my age, got up next to me.  I sat there mesmerized by this unusual data-infused screen.  

It was hypnotic.  The colors change constantly creating an unreal, but oddly familiar, explosion of hues.  It’s not quite like spattered paint, but more like a constantly morphing puff of colors that mimic what I imagine virtual clouds might look like.  It certainly held my gaze for just under an hour.  And, rather than exhaust me further, I found the piece to be uplifting.  

I was surprised that I enjoyed an AI instillation.  It may not be as inspirational as the Georgia O’Keefe exhibition on the third floor.  Nor was it as moving as the Van Goghs, or as stirring as the vast photography collection, but it held my gaze longer than even Monet’s Waterlily room.  The 24-by-24-foot instillation is called Unsupervised.  Rakif Anadol, the artist who conceived the piece, has used AI in his cutting-edge artwork for many years.  

I’ve been dismissive of AI.  I’m dubious of the impact to the arts.  But while I sat there mesmerized, I could see how AI can stand next to other modes of art.  Perhaps it can expand our minds.  Nonetheless, I will always want to go back to the fine and performing arts in which humans display their infinite creativity to uplift our souls.    

Self-Care Tips:

  • Look up an AI version of something you appreciate and see how it makes you feel.  You may be surprised how you respond. 
  • Do an art project.  It can be watercolors, a drawing, or dance to music, sing, play a piece of music.  Find a fun, creative outlet that you enjoy.  
  • Write a short thank you note to yourself for something you appreciate.  You can thank yourself for remembering something, or for your thoughtfulness.  We are told to practice gratitude, and here’s a chance to be grateful to and for yourself. 

Bickering, The Twenty-Seventh Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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My son told me last weekend that he hoped he won’t have disagreements in his relationships like I have with my husband when he’s older.  It was interesting to hear, and as far as I understand he believes that with the amount of therapy, mindfulness practice, as well as the fact that I am a psychotherapist, I should be further along in my personal development, especially when it comes to my marriage.  There was a time I would have agreed.  I would have seen my defensiveness when my feelings are hurt, and that my feelings get hurt at all, as a fault in my character.  

I am not proud that I bicker easily, or that I am quick to react, but I am no longer ashamed that both are true.  Like Alex, I imagined that when I was in my sixties I would have life figured out.  I believed I’d be highly advanced in my communications, and I’d be able to easily respond with patience and self-reflection.  The truth is I am still learning.  I have more acceptance of the bickering, appreciating that our marriage has the strength to encompass unpleasant moments.  However, more time is needed to learn to have a sense of humor about myself, to find ease when I want recognition and appreciation, and to accept that my way is not the only way.  

In our twenty-six years of marriage Larry and I have been able to spend less time upset with one another. Repair is quicker and easier.  And we laugh a lot more together.  I am proud of that growth.  We married later in life, but we came together with much to learn about healthy relationships.  And we continue to learn.  Every conflict is a new opportunity.  

I appreciate Alex’s comment because it allows me to see how it looks from his perspective.  I can only imagine the impact our bickering caused him unable to escape it in his earlier years in our compact apartment.  Presently his opinion and my response to conflict allows me to find acceptance with the imperfections of being human.  Being a therapist does not mean I’m immune to familial disagreements.  It means that I am committed to learning and growing one quarrel at a time.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Take the same short walk three different ways.  Walk looking ahead on one walk.  Walk looking up.  And walk looking down.  How different are these walks covering the same ground?  This can be a metaphor for our memories.  Though we may remember the same experience, when we are in a different place in our lives, we might view it in a new way.  
  • When you have a disagreement, rather than seeing what is wrong with the other person, ask yourself what you need to feel at ease.  This way you address a need rather than trying to be right or change someone else. 
  • Take an analog and digital break.  Read a book or magazine, hand write in a paper journal, paint with watercolors, play with a real deck of cards, play a board game, knit, play ball, or find a concrete activity off-screen.    

Maine, The Twenty-Sixth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Summers are not as warm in Maine as they are in New York City.  The air is fresh with ocean mists and the sun has been shy peeking out from the fog on this visit. We came to Portland to visit friends, enjoy lobster in any number of ways, and walk the charming streets in this compact city.  

The beauty of the coast is something else.  Cliffs making way to crashing waves is beautiful from the high land.  I imagine it was devastating for sailors of the past who found the shore inhospitable.  

Larry’s and my love of traveling together began over 27 years ago on a road trip through Maine.  We loved seeing the varying coastline, the New England inns that offered warmth and pure hospitality.  Of course, lobsters featured throughout that trip.  It is nice to be back.  And, even better to be back to enjoy it with our friends.  It was a gift to see how they built a home and a community in this wonderful place.  And they shared their love for Portland with us.  Their hearts are generous, and we are such fortunate recipients of their munificence. 

Taking this short trip reminds me again of the goodness in people, and the pleasure in leaving home to open my mind and my heart.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Send an old friend a hand-written note.  It’s so nice to connect with someone who has made a difference in your life.  If you can’t see them in person a note or letter feels good when sending it and they enjoy receiving it.  
  • Introduce new herbs and spices into your food, and/or into your garden.  I just tried lovage for the first time and it had a unique yet familiar taste to it.  
  • We’re always told to go out of our comfort zones.  Instead, give yourself some time to create a comfort zone for yourself that is cozy and safe.  Know you can always go there when needed, no matter how many times you leave.  

Rest & Activity, The Twenty-Fifth Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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It was a muggy day in the city.  I went to bed late and gave myself the luxury of resting in bed yesterday morning.  There was a lot to do, but my body craved relaxation, and rather than rush to place my feet on the floor, I lingered under the sheets, enjoying the ease of a restful morning.  

I’m usually a doer.  At some point in my development I got the message that being lazy was not a good thing.  I made a point of being busy. Rather than being busy when necessary and resting when needed, I seemed intent on proving I wasn’t lazy.  However, I had ongoing  jealousy for those who enjoyed life doing less.  That seemed impossible to me.  Thankfully, post-Covid, I have come to see the value in proper rest.  

Though I still have a long way to go to unwind the belief that one must be busy, I am glad that yesterday morning I could enjoy a restful dawning of the day.  It allowed me to find the energy early in the afternoon to go on a short jog.  It’s been a year since I’ve been able to run due to a sprained ankle.  Even though I knew that long distance running was part of my past, I’m aware that I really enjoy running as an ongoing activity.  So, I put on my ankle brace along with two knee braces, and I set out to run for a mile on East End Avenue asphalt.

Asphalt is easier on the joints and fairly level, which makes for a safer run.  It felt so nice to run.  Albeit I’m slower with less energy than last year.  But it was the act of running that felt freeing.  I look forward to running again today.  Luckily, I had a great night’s sleep, so I’m well rested for today’s slow jog.  And, after that?  Maybe a nap. 

Self-Care Tips: 

  • What activity or experience is pure joy, so much so that you lose track of time?  How do you feel thinking about it?  When you have a chance, try diving into the activity.  If there isn’t an opportunity, think about it for a moment and take note of how you feel while basking in that memory. 
  • Reflect on your week and make a note of anything that went better than expected?  Are you able to have gratitude for the better-than-anticipated experience?  If so, take a moment to be with that gratitude.  
  • Check in with your body.  Do you have an abundance of energy?  If so, do something physical to optimize that energy burst.  If not, take a moment (or more, if possible) to relax, letting your body know you’re listening.  

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.  

Train Delay, The Twenty-First Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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The Q train came to a halting stop.  An announcement immediately came on asking “Who pulled the emergency cord?”  At the end of our car, a good citizen thinking there was a request to pull the cord, got up from her seat, pulled the cord, even as the train stood idle.  She sat back down returning to her book.  A hardcover, old school, though she looked barely 25.  

I was slightly annoyed to have my short trip home delayed.  We were in-between the Union Square and 34thStreet stops.  The tunnel between the stops is a mile of tracks and darkness.  The lights were on in the train.  As I looked around I saw eyes meeting strangers’ eyes, a rare occurrence in the subway.  Seated neighbors started to talk.  I remained quiet, looking to see if anyone was panicking.  Surprisingly, everyone was in a good mood and remained calm.  Perhaps that had more to do with it being 9:30 pm on a Friday night, the start of a three-day weekend.  

A seasoned older gentleman, well, probably no older than me, was reassuring a group of tourists that he had been through this before and we’d get through this.  Others mentioned this had never happened to them before.  Personally, I couldn’t remember a time the emergency brake was pulled on a train.  I’d been delayed in my 42 years traveling underground, but this was new for me.  

I looked to see that my phone battery was full, settling in to read downloaded articles.  I barely finished the first short read when an announcement proclaimed we would be starting shortly.  I assumed the vague phrase meant something different to the crew than to us passengers.  However, within three minutes, around fifteen minutes in total, we were again on our way. 

It was a meaningful quarter hour.  Strangers supported one another.  Everyone remained composed, and we all clapped when the train moved forward.  Rather than ruining a terrific evening, it elevated my night, giving me hope.  Witnessing this sliver of kindness and respect reassured me in a city that is known by many as dangerous and cold.  Given the opportunity my subway car-mates chose kindheartedness.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Offer assistance.  Sometimes we see someone struggling, and if we open a door, help them cross the street, or give of ourselves in way that is not a hardship, we feel uplifted.  We get when we give.  
  • Practice calming habits, whether it’s a breathing exercise or tensing & relieving muscles, having a tool in a potentially stressful situation will be invaluable when that tension-filled time comes.  
  • When in a public place, people watch.  See if you can observe an act of kindness or a moment of care.  You, too, may find it reassuring.  

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.