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.
Life isn’t linear. I had always hoped I’d solve what I considered to be my problems, and then live a quality life. The truth is that we revisit issues time and time again. Even when we think we’ve beat it, it will show up unexpectedly. Perhaps it’s why the movie Groundhog’s Day resonates for so many of us.
We are trained early to think that we’ve failed if we have to repeat lessons. In school if we fail a grade, it must be repeated. We are not taught that relearning is nothing shameful. It would be much more helpful should we be told that repeating grades can be as useful as moving ahead. Can we learn that somethings bear repeating?
I have a difficult time learning steps. Dance classes did not come easily. I much prefer workouts that don’t include dancing. Yet, I love dancing on my own, when I can move my body to the music. In some cases, not on the beat, but with the mood rather than the tempo, I feel joyous. That joy is robbed when specific steps are introduced. I go into my head and my physical attunement goes out the door.
That doesn’t stop me from trying to learn. Luckily at this age I can laugh at my difficulties, at least as far as dancing is concerned. Of course, there are other lessons that I continue to struggle with, even if I understand what might help make it easier.
I put together a Seder for our small family. I didn’t over prepare. And I kept telling myself that I should write a list. I never did. I had forgotten to open the horseradish, which I then couldn’t find. I looked everywhere in the refrigerator. Larry kindly volunteered to go out and get a new jar. He had to walk a few blocks since we don’t live close to a food store. This all happened when we were about to begin our short Seder. During clean-up we found the horseradish on the counter where I left it to open it before the meal. Also, the spinach remained in the oven forgetting that, too.
It all worked out. We enjoyed the spinach yesterday. But I know myself. Through the years I’ve come to find that I am well-served keeping lists. Yet I refused to create one for Passover. The forgotten foods were a needed reminder that lists help me.
I will continue to face issues, big and small, that seemingly repeat again and again. While I used to berate myself for what I could or “should” know., now I am grateful that I can learn from ostensibly familiar mistakes. It may seem like the same old issue, but it is new in this never lived before time and space.
Try something that might seem difficult for you. See how it feels. Follow it by something that seems easy, and compare the sensations you experience, and the emotional response to what comes easy as opposed to what is more challenging.
Keep lists if you like. They are a terrific tool. It feels gratifying to cross thigs off your list as you complete them
When faced with a familiar life lesson, keep it in the present. In the same way you have never breathed that breath before, see if you can be in the moment with something that tends to take your mind into the past. Notice what is new or different in this
We just hit the two-year anniversary when our lives changed in unimaginable ways. At least most of us never imagined this. Although I had plenty of professional experience doing trauma work, that usually meant implementing tools to get through a time-limited traumatic event. We could count on the passage of time to dull the immediate impact of the trauma. This was much different. We had to live through uncertainty and constant change while continuing to navigate other, more personal hardships.
We found out we are resilient. We faced our vulnerabilities. There was acting out. And there were multitudes of kindnesses. Relationships were under a microscope. We lost friends and disconnected with family members. New friendships were forged. Old friendships were rekindled. More often than not, differences were highlighted. We experienced division. For some heartier individuals we worked through differences to find connection. In other cases, it was apparent hard work would not bridge the divide.
As for me, I am tired and grateful. The last two years wore me down. I also found unexpected gifts through walking, conversations, posts, and streaming. Life feels more precious, if also more tenuous. Spending less time with distractions it’s easy for me to see areas in need of growth. I can also better recognize a well-honed habit of self-criticism. I had thought I was further along on my spiritual journey. I was arrogant enough to think I actually knew what that looked like. But I am here, now, and it looks like this. Thank you for your part in accompanying me in this journey. I also appreciate you welcoming me on your journey. For my part, I couldn’t have done this alone.
Be sure to thank those who have supported you. We all appreciate being thanked.
Smile when you feel inclined. We have missed smiles with masks on. And, if you are wearing a mask, smile. Remember, a true smile is in the eyes. Let that warmth melt someone else’s pain.
Review what lessons you’ve learned or how you’ve grown in the past two years. It’s important to acknowledge what you’ve been through.
The weather these past few days lightened our moods. With colder temperatures and snow today we may slip back to a shared discontentment. A week ago the general agitation was palpable. Wide-ranging reactivity was pronounced. Small misunderstandings caused friction. And this was among strangers. Relationships have been strained. Most are not able to keep up with inflation. Families are under-resourced, overly tired, and living with ongoing exasperation. Those who live on their own have bouts of loneliness, especially because the difficulty in getting together with others while Omicron was at its height kept socializing at bay.
Distress seems to be the mood of the moment. It’s been tiresome to put plans on hold again and again. Reactivity is at an all-time high. Patience is worn thin. Frustration and annoyance are way too common. So many are at their wit’s end trying to figure out a way ahead.
For a good number there is a relief that the mask mandates have loosened. For others it adds a new layer of fear. There’s the fantasy that we’ll get back to normal. But we are not going back in many ways. Whatever is ahead of us remains to be seen. And that can be scary.
Though it may take a good amount of time to recover physically and emotionally from all we lost these last couple of years, we can find pockets of hope and joy in the present. Yesterday I was helped by a thoughtful salesperson at a hardware store. In a time when customer tolerance is more prevalent than customer service, his assistance brightened my day. Smiles from strangers have taken on a new worth. And the unexpected generosity of friends has been priceless. I will be taking in any and all acts of kindness Now more than ever those moments provide the light that moves us forward.
Rub your hands together until you create heat, then gently place them on your eyes. This can provide a soothing moment.
Sing yourself a lullaby at night to lovingly put yourself to sleep.
Try a new toothpaste. It will help awaken you in the morning since it’s an unfamiliar flavor.
Welcome to 2022. There are a lot of surprises in store. I’ll be surprised along-side you. I’m calling it the “New Abnormal” due to the fact that it’s been abnormal for awhile. A new normal doesn’t resonate with me since there have been too many tectonic shifts these last couple of years. Although this new abnormal is, well, new, I am no stranger to abnormal.
When I was 9 years old I secretly played with Barbies. Under our ping pong table in the basement, I created a world that entertained me for hours. I quickly came to understand that my third-grade classmates were not still playing with their Barbie dolls. At least no one admitted to it. They had moved on to more sophisticated toys like the Zig Zag sewing machine or the totally cool walkie-talkies. But I relished my alone time away from my three siblings to do as I pleased, inventing new roles that my small dolls could inhabit. Even later when I was to learn that Barbie was no friend to feminists, I silently appreciated those precious years when they provided me with a gateway to my creative mind.
As much as I loved those solo hours under the table, on Sundays my Grandpop, Sam, would play ping pong with me, my Barbies far from underneath the table in the appropriate cases tucked into the basement closet. My Grandpop was quite athletic. When he played ping pong, he played to win. I only learned the game by trying to keep up. He usually won. But he never gloated. He was a humble man, who taught me the importance of doing a good job for oneself.
At school I was relentlessly teased for my frizzy hair, my hand-me-down wardrobe, or my socially awkward demeanor. To certain kids at Stafford School, I was abnormal. It felt like an unwanted burden as a tween. As an adult, especially in this time of Coronavirus, I have come to understand that having had a tough beginning was the introduction I needed to get through difficult times.
As we enter 2022, we all have a sense of what it takes when the unexpected comes. We’ve had plenty of practice these last 22 months. Abnormal times require abnormal qualities. I may have been unpopular playing with my Barbies, but being able to entertain myself for long periods of time in my own company has served me well. Plus enjoying the company and sportsmanship of my Grandpop has given me an ease with quiet focus. Let’s rejoice in what’s distinct from others. Celebrating our inner abnormalities may just get us through this new year.
Laugh a little. Watch a Betty White clip on YouTube or elsewhere.
Clean out something simple as a signal for a fresh beginning. It can be a drawer, a pencil holder, a room, your refrigerator or freezer, your oven or a closet. Throw out what doesn’t serve you anymore. If you can recycle it or repurpose it, great.
In what ways have you known yourself to veer from the crowd? If it’s something that gives you pleasure and it doesn’t harm you or anyone else, allow yourself the grace to appreciate and enjoy your “inner abnormal.”
Sweet Sixteen. It doesn’t feel so sweet these days. I remember when I was turning sixteen, I yearned to have a fancy party as many of my friends were having that year. We couldn’t afford an expensive affair, so I begged and cajoled my parents into allowing me to have a house party. My mother did not enjoy entertaining, nor did she feel comfortable in having a good number of adolescents in her home. I didn’t realize at the time what a gift she was giving me just by saying yes.
I worked hard to pay for the party doing overtime to make it happen. I would make runs into Philadelphia to get beads so I could make each guest a personalized necklace. My ambitions were high even though my craft skills were not.
When the party came to be I remember how uncomfortable I was to bring together my friends from various parts of my life, from Hebrew school cronies to my drama student friend, to those in B’nai Brith Girls (BBG) to old elementary school friends, and my more avant-garde crowd. I was an emotional mess thinking that each knew a part of me, but I was not at ease with me as a whole, and projected quick rejection once they saw the other aspects of my personality. Needless to say, trying to calm my mother pre-party and calm myself took all my energy while setting up.
Each person I invited had a special place in my heart. They had given me their friendship. Not understanding what that meant, I wanted to repay their kindnesses. However, I didn’t know myself well enough. I felt fragmented. Sadly I only remember my discomfort walking indoors and out to make sure everyone had what they needed. Scared they’d find out I wasn’t who they thought I was.
It took me decades to learn that our many personality traits are naturally unified. We are and have always been a culmination of the different parts of ourselves.
Last night I had the great fortune of going out for the evening. I was able to meet a FaceBook friend from the pandemic for the first time, as well as her awesome sixteen-year-old daughter. My new friend is an extraordinary woman who is bright, sensitive, and fun, among other wonderful traits. Larry was there, as was his friend who has become mine, and his delightful girlfriend. For me it was a magical evening. Perhaps even more so since there’s been a Covid-19 surge, and yet we could still meet for dinner. We don’t know what’s coming, but in our uncertainty and fear we made room for laughter and love.
If I think back to my 16-year-old self, I don’t know that I could have shared my fears if I was supposed to be having fun. Or, I would have missed the fun in deference to my uncertainty. Thank goodness for life experiences that allow us to keep moving forward while honoring the moment. Though I am not grateful for the pandemic and what I thought was this time of transition, I am grateful for new friends, long-term friends, a good husband, and all the other gifts from these many pain-filled months.
Make a positive comment online. It can be a compliment for good service, a nice comment to a post, or a short hello to an old friend. It’s an easy way to make someone’s day.
Make a note of a life lesson you’ve learned. Remember how you used to be and recognize how you’ve grown since then.
Check in with yourself to see what you need. Sometimes we’re preoccupied with what others need, and we don’t know if we need rest, if we need to reach out to a friend, or we need quiet time.
When I was in the fifth grade, our teacher, Mrs. Hannah, introduced the idea for a swap lunch. The concept was that mothers (it was 1970) were to create a brown bag lunch, and they would be swapped for a lunch with another student. We picked names out of a hat. As there was an odd number of children in the class, Mrs. Hannah was going to provide a lunch as well. I can’t remember who was the recipient of my mother’s lunch. But I do recall being mortified. It included a tuna salad sandwich on Pepperidge Farm white bread and an apple for dessert. Not a winning combination.
I was the fortunate recipient of Mrs. Hannah’s lunch. It was a thick hoagie, a small bag of chips, a few neatly cut carrots to suggest nutrition, and a regular-sized Hershey chocolate bar for dessert. I had never enjoyed such a scrumptious lunch as much as I did that day. It felt as if it was put together with love. And it was all food forbidden on most days in our house. As far as I was concerned, I’d won the jackpot.
At age ten I worried a lot about being liked. My insecurities were in full bloom. That day with that lunch reassured me more than I could have expressed, that my teacher liked me enough to make a beautiful meal just for me. As one out of four children, and a middle child at that, feeling special was not routine for me. For the most part I lived in hand-me-downs, and was called by one of my sisters’ names countless times. So, to be the beneficiary of Mrs. Hannah’s meal was a rare moment of joy and gratitude.
In the five decades since then there have been so many special moments. They range from a huge smile from a stranger yesterday as I walked home, to the many friends who were kind enough to lend a place to stay when I was a struggling actress in the city. Thank you to Larry J., Phoebe, Michael, Harriet, Astrid, and Jane, to name some of the generous friends to whom I remain grateful.
True kindness is a gift we cherish life-long. I carry so many treasured moments with me. We all do if we let those moments caress us. The arbitrary kindness of friends, family, strangers, and teachers was priceless throughout the pandemic. Benevolence is contagious. Thoughtfulness is always a gift to the giver and the recipient. Thank you to all of you who have brought me a smile, providing a future recollection that helps to make me a better person.
Smile to strangers. You never know what a difference it might make.
Feed someone. Whether you donate to a cause like City Harvest or World Central Kitchen, or whether you choose to send a meal to a friend, food is always a meaningful gift.
Thank a teacher. Teachers gave so much these last couple of years. The best have always been generous of heart. If you’re able to be in touch with a past teacher, or you know a teacher presently, thank them. They work for so little, so a thank you means so much.
This morning was clear and cool enough for summer. My knee wasn’t hurting and I could take a slow run by the East River. Ah, a moment of little pain. A small yet welcomed gift when my days are full. Not only could I run after a week of limited walking, but I could enjoy an empty promenade with friendly passers-by. That all added up to a great start to the day.
As we continue to step into a world redefined it’s so easy to want to go back to all we were doing prior to the pandemic. We might miss socializing, or live entertainment. Choosing what we do and with whom enhances our sense of continued well-being. And choosing to find the gifts in the ordinary is helpful in our day to day.
I am appreciative of the large flowers gracing our small garden. The smiles and gentle “hellos” are a kindness I so enjoy since I tend to busily move about without seeing individuals. A day without rain brightens the weekend. All these simple gifts deepen my satisfaction. As I can become easily agitated by unpleasantness when I’m feeling raw, I am grateful when I’m in a place in which I can take in the goodness around me.
Ordinary moments are turned into small gems as we amass them throughout the day. They become even more dear, because they may be ordinary, but they are not always common.
Take stock of the small moments of joy you amass throughout your day.
Sing to yourself. Notice what you choose. Enjoy it if you can. And, if not, change the station.
Read good news. Usually newspapers and other news outlets have pieces that are inspiring, humorous, or just positive.
Happy Pride Day. Today our trans son is celebrating. 24 years ago we unwittingly scheduled our wedding on Pride Day. Some friends fittingly missed our straight wedding to celebrate their identity while they marched for their rights. Others gay friends were generous to give up their place in the parade to witness our wedding. And everyone had to deal with the traffic that was rerouted to accommodate the crowds and the parade. Larry and I realized then the privilege we enjoyed by being able to get married in 1997.
The world has come a long way since then. It took another 14 years for same sex marriage to be legalized in New York state. Yet in many ways we have a long way to go. I see this as Alex enjoys the freedom to be himself among his friends, however, he gets judged in others’ company. Not all, but some.
When I was young, I naively believed love would heal all. I am a true believer in love. And I believe we all have the right to love. But healing often takes love, respect, compassion, listening, non-judgement, hard work, and much more. Love can be a foundation for change, but it’s not a one-word solution.
I hope I see a time when all will enjoy the undeniable rights of living freely in an accepting world. One in which expression and personal sovereignty are available to all.
Take an action for pride month in a way that supports LGBTQIA movements, organizations, groups or individuals
Celebrate summer. Eat seasonal fruits and vegetables, have a BBQ, take a nature walk, or enjoy summer in any way that you like.
Enjoy a summer nap. There’s nothing like taking a break in the heat of summer.
We’re at the end of May, which is Mental Health Awareness Month. That doesn’t mean we can ditch the care we require for our mental well-being. Perhaps now more than ever we must hone in on our emotional welfare. As we face many more options than what had been available just a month ago, I find that I am oversaturated with hopes, desires and hesitation. Listening to my intuition is key, but the noise of opening up, facing all we can do, what we “should do,” along with what we’d like to keep from our time in the pandemic, can feel dizzying. I face many choices, while I proceed at a low speed.
The challenge is to stay to my intuition, rather than fall face forward into the noise of the world around me. I have been easily seduced by good food, good drinks, good talent, good times. The pandemic helped to curb some impulses. It helped me to learn to rest more even as work picked up due to the unexpected global stressors and losses. So, here we are at the crossroads of some semblance of our old lives with what became essential during lockdown.
I’m selfishly relieved that it’s a wet holiday weekend. I felt compelled to imagine what I could do during the long weekend. What I really needed was to rest and get some work done. The weather gave me the opportunity to choose what was best for me, rather than delaying the work for fun in the sun. While the time in the pandemic gave me more time to meditate and walk, both of which have been essential self-care, I have to purposely keep those activities in place as the world expands around me.
I love seeing the choices others are making. One of the best mental health benefits of maturing is understanding that I am not obligated to live a life based on others’ opinions. I’m not necessarily comfortable when I am in disagreement with plans or interests, but I’d rather endure the discomfort of difference than the discomfort of denying what is right for me. The pandemic allowed my intuition to raise its voice. My mental health is inextricably tied to me listening to my intuition and trusting what it tells me. Now it may be more of an ordeal to listen carefully, but the reward will be a gentle smile from within. My inner-self will thank me. What better way to attend to our mental health?
Go for a mental health check-up. See your past psychotherapist to check in. Or, find a way to do a self-reflection of what’s needed to bring deep satisfaction into your life.
Access the courage it takes to speak up for yourself while listening to your intuition, rather than ignoring what your gut tells you so that you don’t make waves.
If you’re able, take a look at Apple TV’s “The Me You Can’t See,” A show that raises awareness on Mental Illness and Mental Health.