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Saying Nothing, The Thirty-Ninth Week in the Second Year of the New Abnormal

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“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  That was a common idiom of our mother’s lexicon.   She lived true to that statement.  Even when she attempted to comment on something she disapproved of, she did her best to soften it.  As a teen, I often was asked the question, “Janet, do you think that’s the most complementary outfit?“  Or it could have been make-up, pants, hair style or any other appearance-related observation.  As a sensitive teen I was crushed no matter how much she tried to say it diplomatically.   

I was not mature enough or confident enough to understand that we were separated by a generation, and our aesthetic tastes were informed by those differences.  Nor did I appreciate that even when well-intended, a critique said in the most unobtrusively terms, can still be judgmental.

I learned that the hard way.  I followed in my mother’s footsteps, not saying anything that wasn’t nice, but Larry and Alex, my husband and son, let me know that my expressions have screamed disapproval.  So, though, “don’t say anything if you don’t have anything nice to say” is step one in being thoughtful, it by no means is enough.  

I have had to learn to listen and see things from their point of view.  I may be able to see that what they say or do isn’t right for me, but it is not my place to judge what is right for them, or anyone else, for that matter.  

We’d all do better to focus on ourselves and what we can do to live our lives as best we can rather than determine how others should be living their lives.  Whether we cast aspersions on others out loud or via facial expressions and body language, we are only indicating that we, ourselves, are intolerant or judgmental. And that is never a pretty look for anyone.    

Self-Care Tips:

  • When you hear something that sparks negative feelings within you, do your best to set them aside as you listen to the other person so you can appreciate their perspective on choices they are making.  You might learn something helpful rather than be reactionary, which usually changes nothing. 
  • I suggest watching the docuseries Chimp Empire. On Netflix, if you have it  It’s a relaxing view, while still creating a nice level of drama in the chimpanzees’ lives.  
  • Since we are our own worst critics, see if you’re able to bring kindness and compassion when you’re feel critical of yourself, and do your best not to criticize yourself for not being kind enough.  

Hygge, The Thirty-Eighth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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There is a distinct feeling of “hygge’” a Danish word for contentment that comes from comfort and an easy friendliness, that perfectly describes the vibe we encountered in Copenhagen.  Last week we had taken advantage of an Icelandair special to visit Copenhagen.  I have always wanted to go to Nordic countries, but they seemed so remote.  This deal with a stopover in Iceland was exactly what I needed to bridge the gap from a dream to a reality.  

Throughout the years I’ve read food and travel blogs about Denmark and Copenhagen.  And Copenhagen did not disappoint.  The food was excellent.  It’s so much fun to visit the outdoor markets, the covered markets, the cafes, the bakeries, and the restaurants.  And, like New York, Copenhagen is a great walking city.  Every chance I had I walked for miles, getting lost, finding myself in unknown neighborhoods or parks where there was always something new I encountered.  

Our very first day in Copenhagen, jetlagged and hungry, we set off for a foodhall.  The closest good one, we were told, was only one stop away on the “S” train.  We dutifully walked the 15 minutes to the train station, bought our four-day pass for public transportation.  The machine preferred European credit cards, so another ten minutes were spent trying to obtain our cards, but we prevailed.  Next, we set off to find the S train, only to see that there were multiple tracks.  We were flummoxed.  

Luckily, a passerby helped us out and though we ended up on the Subway, we eventually found our way to the market.  She was the first of many who embodied the hygge vibe.  She was friendly, considered our request, and offered the best way she knew to get there.  Even though we stopped others who had not known the directions we needed, all were kind, pausing from their morning commute to listen fully to our request.  And, though it was our first hour in the city, there were many interactions that reflected the hygge mentality.  

Right before we left for vacation, I had read a post that was critical of those who share their vacations on social media.  She, the poster, saw it as bragging.  It’s possible my posts can be perceived that way.  Though not my intention, I do understand that traveling is a luxury, and it’s not always accessible to all.  And, yet I love traveling and it’s an aspect of my life that always feels enriching.  However, I did wonder if it was appropriate to share my travels.   

After considering her post, I decided to share my experience.  Travel means a lot to me.  It gives me joy.  Not only do I get a great deal out of traveling, the least of which was learning more about hygge on this trip, but I do bring back what I learn and do my best to apply it to my everyday life.  I’m happy to be home.  There is a hygge in sleeping in my comfortable bed, though I do miss the feather beds on our mattresses in Copenhagen.  I am grateful to apply a new type of ease to my daily activities.  There’s a good reason Denmark is the second happiest country in the world.   I hope to visit Finland at some point, as that was rated number one.  I look forward to seeing what I can learn on that trip.  

Self-Care Tips:  

  • If you listen to or read someone who has a very strong opinion, see if it applies to you.  What they say is reflective of their point of view.  So often we shut down our expressive selves because someone else says it’s not okay.  Do your best to be okay with your choices and live your life fully as you, while not purposely hurting yourself or other. And understand not everyone will be okay with your choices, only you have to be okay with them.  
  • Apply “Hygge” to your life.  Find ways that bring ease and comfort.  It’s simple but not always easy to take the path of least resistance.  
  • Create a savings account for a specific goal or dream.  For instance, I have a separate travel account.  Even if your budget is small, set aside a dollar a week, less if that’s what’s needed.  It can make the goal seem more real.  There are many no fee apps and banks that allow for this type of account.  Or you can use a specific change jar for a goal.  This is great at any age.  

Happy New Year, The Thirty-Seventh Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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It’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.  The year is 5784.  Back in 5734, in my teens, I worried about my clothes.  Was I going to wear my new wool dress, or was the warm September day going to deem it irrelevant?  I knew it was going to be a long day of prayer followed by a huge family meal.  I went to Synagogue, but I did not feel at home in the dressy world of the fancy Schul.  I felt more at home in the down-to-earth synagogue of my friends.  But members paid dues, and there was no seat for me in their sanctuary.  

Over the years I’ve moved away from observing in a house of worship.  It can be a deeply meaningful experience for many, but I prefer to pray and meditate in private.  Nonetheless, I do wish my Jewish friends & family, friends or family of other beliefs, acquaintances, and readers, a year filled with freedom from suffering. I wish you peace.  I hope you enjoy a sweet New Year.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Enjoy the sweetness of honey to remind you of the sweetness in life.  Tradition has us dipping slices of apple in honey, but feel free to create your own sweet reminder.  
  • Try releasing something that’s been hard to let go of.  It can be an item, or it can be an attitude.  This will create new space for some peace of mind.  
  • What does freedom from suffering look like to you?  Like me, does that mean inserting more kindness and forgiveness for myself and others?  Or does it mean taking an action that will allow for more ease?  Don’t suffer in making a choice, just choose the best course for you and see if it relieves suffering.  

Hurt by Half, The Thirty-Sixth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I was ten years old.  The person who I had considered my best friend was in the Stafford School auditorium with her class, and I was with my class for a school-wide assembly.  Assemblies felt important.  Usually the principal spoke.  He was a tall, somber man who communicated in hushed tones lending an atmosphere of solemnity to childhood gatherings.  

I was nervous.  I had called the friend a few times and she never came to the phone I racked my brain for what I might have said or done to cause her avoidance.  It hurt me to the core.  I was not a popular girl and her purposeful neglect threatened my fragile sense of self.  

When I gently approached her with hopeful steadiness, after going back and forth as to what I might say, I said, “I hope we can play sometime.”
My warbly voice betrayed my erect posture.  Immediately, and without looking at me, she said, “Janet, get off my back.”    

My shoulders slumped and I followed my class to my seat as she stepped in single file to sit with her classmates.  I was devastated.  Yes, I had huge needs.  I was lonely and could be clingy.  But did I deserve that treatment?  At the time I thought I did.  I reviewed our friendship and thought of all the times I said something that got her mad.  I thought of all the ways I had desperately done what she wanted so we could play together.  I had lost a friend and I was blaming myself for that loss.  Even if it wasn’t a healthy friendship, I liked having a playmate.  

We often multiply our suffering by two.  First, we go through something difficult.  Then we fault ourselves for the hardship imaging all the ways we might have avoided it.  I’m not saying it’s not useful to see our contributions to what we go through, but there’s a difference between learning a lesson and being cruel to ourselves in the perceived service of getting over the hurt.  

What if we fold in compassion?  It won’t make the difficulties disappear, but it will reduce our suffering if we can be kind and caring to ourselves while enduring hardship.  I may have been hurt at age 10 by my ex-friend’s thoughtless response, but I carried it with me far longer than the quick exchange in the auditorium.  Nonetheless, in the 50 plus years since that time, I have been able to learn and not feel the deep shame of my childhood when I do say or do something that is not a match to a given moment.  

It may take practice to be self-compassionate.  It’s not a get-out-of-jail-free card.  It’s more of an embrace when feeling trapped.  Age and perspective help, as does patience.  And having the ability to tolerate hard feelings makes a huge difference when we’re going through something rough.  I suppose that experience was one of many exercises in building tolerance for managing difficulties.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • When going through something difficult, see what you need.  Soothe yourself with soft fabrics, clothes, sheets, or a piece of fabric to rub.  Or find music that matches your mood.  Move in ways that feel expressive.  Use your senses to bring calm.  
  • Take an electronic pause.  Read a hardback or a paperback book.  Walk without a device.  Take in the scenery.  People watch rather than viewing a screen.  
  • Walk with a friend.  You can share a view rather that drinks or a meal.  

Labor Day Weekend, The Thirty-Fifth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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When I was growing up summer was always book ended by the academic year’s completion in June and a new school year following Labor Day.  In between were hot days at camp, or at home in the backyard under the sprinkler, with regular trips to Hidden Lake or the Haddontown Swim Club for substantial wet reprieve from the beating sun.  

Here we are at this 2023 summer’s finale on this Labor Day weekend.  The air is cooler as if a declaration that summer is at its end.   In my teen and preteen years I would have been working at my father’s shoe store ringing up saddle shoes for the cheerleaders, parochial oxfords for local children attending Catholic schools, and Buster Browns for the public elementary school crowd. 

There was anticipation in the air.  We went to Korvettes or Grants to load up on school supplies, including Lego-sized sharpeners for our number 2 pencils.  Figuring out what to wear on the first day was a pressing matter after first grade.  Oh, how I loved my plaid wool skirt, with red fringe and a large gold-plated safety pin as an adornment.  It was worn with a Danskin ribbed turtleneck, and red tights that never stayed up, causing me to waddle home at the end of that first day.  I didn’t care.  I loved that 60s fashion trend.  

Now in my 60s, I appreciate those memories, and miss the clear delineation of seasons as signified by the school year.  Time now is not marked by classes and tests.  The year is of my making.  Though I appreciate the freedom that allows, I do wax nostalgic for the endless summers and the structure of school in session.  

As I let go of this summer and welcome Autumn in all its glory, I hope you, too, can enjoy sweet memories while relishing the transformative Fall season.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • Give yourself a break.  If you have a “should” for this weekend or week, pause to see if it must get done, or whether you can put the “should” on pause and do something restful and/or fun instead.  
  • Learn a new word, and when possible, use it.   I can recommend “WordDaily.com. However, there are a good number of vocabulary apps and sites.  This week featured the word “Disembogue,” meaning a river or stream flowing into the sea or a larger river.  
  • Delete unwanted or unused app or apps from your phone.  Or you can unsubscribe from  mailing-lists you find annoying.  Letting go of the junk emails, and ignored apps can feel like a reset.  

Relationship Issues, The Forty-Fourth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I have a relationship problem.  My relationship with certain circumstances can be very dicey.  When things don’t go as I planned, or something upsets me, I have a hard time accepting it.  I get upset, and in getting upset, I judge myself for not being more accepting.  Then I mull over how I could have prevented it.  I’m self-critical, which in turn, expands my unhappiness.  

It happened this weekend after not getting enough sleep, being in unwanted crowded areas, and certain things not going smoothly.  I found out tonight we’ve been in retrograde.  Maybe that explains it.  But while it was going on, my relationship to these events was anything but open.  I got annoyed.  I tried to think of how I could have avoided the unpleasantness.  It was sticky there for awhile in my relationship to the reality I was in.  

I forgot how temporary things are.  I forgot to pause and reassess.  I took a walk.  When I came back, I wrote a blog post for this weekend.  And then I lost it on my iPad.  I panicked at first.  I looked in every file.  I tried other programs, just in case.  But it was completely lost.  Surprisingly, I was able to get on with my evening plans knowing I’d be writing this late at night.

And, here we are.  It was a magical evening celebrating my 64th birthday, one year shy of a senior citizen designation.  I don’t mind, it means future discounts.  The bad relationship with reality is on hold.  I’ll continue to work on that relationship.  Maybe I’ll embrace the present rather than fight it a year from now.   I’ll be curious to see how it it goes.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • When you’re being hard on yourself because things aren’t going well, see if you can observe the circumstances, and be a witness to your feelings rather than blame yourself.  It takes some practice.  We can practice in tandem, as my work on this is ongoing.
  • Check out Rhiannon Giddens.  She’s a amazing human with a fantastic voice that defies one category.  She has a new album, You’re the One.  
  • Rub a smooth stone.  Whether it’s a river stone or a tumbled stone in the color of your choice, rubbing a stone when upset, can bring a little relief.

Beneath the Facade, The Thirty-Third Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Growing up my mother and her mother were sticklers for good manners.  I made a point of saying please and thank you.  I was afraid they would view me as rude, and I didn’t want that moniker.  My grandmother would point out other children who might have been louder than us, or publicly whiny, and she’d use those children as cautionary tails of behavior we were to stringently avoid.  

I appreciate good manners.  Things can be pleasurably orderly when people stick to the rules, when the rules make sense for all.  And I am always grateful for good manners.  Yesterday, when I once again rode Park Avenue for Summer Streets, I made a point of thanking the police and the Department of Transportation volunteers and temp employees for being there.  I was so grateful and happy to share that gratitude.  All but one smiled back, and they were nice exchanges along the beautiful ride.    

I was grateful I started out early so that the roads weren’t crowded.  I was grateful for the cool morning air, a rarity in August.  I had filled my tires so my ride was smooth.  And to those that I thanked I may have seemed nice.  But lurking underneath the gratitude and manners was a highly judgmental, cranky older woman.  For the day I had become an architype.   I was mad that some cyclists were in the right lanes, while some runners were in the left lanes.  There was clear signage.  Had I not been a shaky rider, I could imagine myself raising a fist each and every time I noted an interloper.  I also wasn’t pleased when motor bikes vroomed down the supposedly gas-free streets.  

In hindsight, I think these things scared me.  I’m a tentative cyclist.  I like empty roads without ruts. Smooth riding feels safer to me.  If I give myself grace, I can now see that my righteous anger was a defense of my fears.  And perhaps my fright isn’t specific to my bike ride.  Maybe it’s global warming anxiety.  Or a world in which people act out their fury in arbitrary ways.  Or fear of an unknown future.  Whatever the case I will do my best to ease my fears while living fully.  I’ll continue to have good manners, a multigenerational practice.  And I’ll check myself with care when my anger, judgment, and cantankerous nature peak out.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • When angry, check to see if the strong emotion is protecting a more vulnerable part of you.  If so, see if you can soothe yourself making room and a safe space for your frailer nature.  
  • Challenge yourself in small ways by doing things that feels doable even if you’re a little bit afraid.  It can be as small as a public bicycle ride in a busy city, stating a preference when you’re usually agreeable, or stepping out in a way right for you
  • Try reading or watching a genre that is new or different for you.  I came to appreciate graphic novels, even if it’s not my go to.  See if you might come to understand what others see in another genre.  

Summer Relief, The Thirty-Second Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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Although this cannot be said of much of the country or world, we in New York City have enjoyed a reprieve from the intense heat of July.  It has been delightful.  Today I relished a breezy morning riding my low-to-the-ground bicycle up and down Park Avenue for the annual Summer Streets event.  The Department of Transportation closes streets on Saturdays in all five boroughs throughout late July and August for pedestrians, joggers, and cyclists as a way of promoting greener transportation.    

I had forgotten about it last week, so I was so happy to wake up early to take advantage of the no traffic morning.  Though the city has added miles of bike lanes, mopeds and electric bikes tend to speed, which does not promote confidence in this shaky rider.  So, I avoid riding on the city streets, unless it’s to get to a park.  I love my low bicycle knowing I can always reach the ground, should I need to do so.  A throwback from my childhood and my cool banana seat bike.  

I never felt confident on a high bike.  When I wanted an adult bike, I opted for a folding model, so I could emulate that small bike experience.  There is a freedom I experience on a bicycle, as long as I feel it is safe to ride.  Boardwalk bikes, though heavy, can also be low and provide an ease when traversing parallel to the ocean.  

When it was hotter and oppressively humid, riding my bike, rather than jogging, provided a gentle wafting of air so that I didn’t get out of breath.  But it was still stifling  compared to today when I felt the wind on my back encouraging me on as I easily traveled the miles on Park Avenue and beyond.  

I am grateful for this unseasonable weather.  And I am grateful for Summer Streets.  Having a break after the work week is a gift, indeed.  

Self-Care Tools:  

  • If you are inclined to donate to a fire and/or weather impacted area, it can be very helpful to find local non-profits who can specifically target the needs of the community, like Maui Food Bank, the environmental non-profit, Aina Momona. or the nonprofit organization Kako’o Haleakala, to name a few.   
  • Enjoy playing as you did as a child.  It could be a bike ride, hopscotch, kickball, or kicking your feet in a kiddie pool.  Whatever you do, remember the simple joy of childhood play, if you’re able.  
  • If you’re tired or weary, don’t push yourself.  Listen to your body and find some ease in this hectic world.  

Mundane Day, The Thirty-First Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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What am I doing this weekend?  Nothing special and everything essential.  In an Instagram world of glamourous posts, my weekend is the antithesis of awesome.  I started early to ensure I could easily access the washing machines needed for the weekly laundry.  Luckily for me, it was a ghost town before 7 am, and I peacefully and quietly secured my machines and loaded them from the full hampers.  

After I put the laundry in the dryer, bringing the hang-dry bag up to the apartment to, you guessed it, hang dry, I took Lucy out for a walk before the sun was beating too strongly on the sidewalks.  It’s pleasant enough, but the humidity still clung in-between my skin and my summer cottons. 

Then I ran some errands.  I was at the post office, which was empty due to it being the first summer since the pandemic in which everyone is running to escape the city on weekends.   Thank you, travelers, it’s so nice to enjoy a quiet corner of the city for a change.  Next was a stop at the local farmers’ market.  It seemed as if everyone who stayed in the city was buying up produce and baked goods.  The lines were long.  Some shoppers have routines in which they step in and out of line yet don’t communicate so those of us partially-patient while waiting are to assume they had a place somewhere and are now happy to go in front of us to procure their staples. 

I got enough sleep last night and Lucy was set with treats, so I felt less agitated by those farmers’ market patrons.  Sometimes, though, I can get annoyed. It was nice to have skipped over my reactivity this morning.  Carrying my load, Lucy and I took the short walk back home.  From there it was time for food prep.  There’s something straightforward about cutting fruit and chopping vegetables.  

Boring days like today are necessary to get through our lives.  However, it’s only boring as a story.  While ticking off these daily chores, it’s nice to accomplish small tasks.  It’s satisfying to finish one small project and then the next.  I was never bored.  In fact, I appreciated the quiet time getting everything done.  The mundane is not necessarily dull.  

Self-care tips:

  • The next time someone asks, “What’s new?”  See if you can easily and proudly share what you’ve been up to without having to exaggerate or only speak of the highlights.  
  • Find the extraordinary in the ordinary.  Often little things make a big difference.  
  • Find something that combines humor and art.  It could be poetry, fine art, a film, literature, or another type of artistry.  It’s so much fun to laugh and be inspired simultaneously.  It could be a Charlie Chaplin film, a Dorothy Parker poem, a Victor Borge video, any Judy Holliday movie, or choose something that suites your particular sense of humor.  

Optical Illusion, The Thirtieth Week of the Second Year in the New Abnormal

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I was out for an early walk to beat the heat.  Ahead of me I could see a large pile of dog excrement, and my mind went on a rampage.   I got angry at the unknown dog walker or owner who was selfish at best, and a menace to our neighborhood, as far as I was concerned.  I righteously congratulated myself on my dog etiquette and my thoughtfulness in always making sure I have enough bags and I clean up after Lucy.  I railed at the many dog owners in the city who don’t think of others, which then got me on a mental rant about those who let their dogs go leashless in the parks and on the sidewalks.  I had really worked myself up by the time I passed what I thought was poop but turned out to be an errant dark sock.  

My condemnation of others and the easy assumption of others’ guilt based on an unsubstantiated conjecture was fascinating to me.  How had I become so judgmental so quickly?  What has happened that I assume the worst in others rather than think the best of them?  I know there have been times when I was misunderstood, and the worst was thought of me.  It is not a good feeling.  So, why am I making that same mistake?  

I seem to have selective grace for others.  I judge those I don’t know.  Or I make fast determinations when I’m uncomfortable with my own thoughts and feelings.  Sure, I, like most New Yorkers do not take kindly to those who don’t pick up after their dogs.  But not liking something as opposed to working myself up into a tither are very different sets of circumstances.  

When I get upset that quickly about perceived slights, then I know I need to take a step back to assess what might really be upsetting me.  And, if I find there’s nothing in particular that’s distressing, then I know I may be tired, hungry, or burnt out.  Luckily, I had the rest of my walk to discover what was underneath my rant.  And, even more fortuitous, I was able to get a nap in so that I didn’t spend the remainder of the day tied up in knots.  

Self-Care Tips:

  • When you get agitated quickly, take a breath, and check in with yourself to see if there is an unmet need, such as nourishment, more sleep, down time, connection, or anything else.  Have compassion for yourself, no matter your previous reaction, and see if it’s possible to provide what is needed.  
  • Check out Tony Bennett on YouTube, whether it’s his classics or the many duets he sang.  The videos can be mood changers.
  • Make someone’s day.  Thank those who you encounter during regular daily business hours and beyond.  Give thanks to cashiers, sanitation workers, postal workers, anyone who is kind enough to hold a door, caregivers of others, wait staff, and whoever you see providing a service.