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I hope you don't mind me "replaying" a very early blog from when I first started out. I have blogged 120 some blogs so far this year - I even missed doing something special for #100! - but this gives me time to work on my other writing projects. As always, I SO appreciate your coming by and leaving a comment. You have no idea how much this blog has encouraged me to resurrect a myriad of projects I'd started long ago. Hugs of thanks!
THE TIPS
Once you try it you will know that it works. And it is so simple. Why do the really simple things get passed over? Are we so "advanced" we ignore simple anythings?
Gratitude is simple. It has the number one spot on the list of tips to inspire change, a mini-motivational "get pumped" list.
Inspiration #1 - Gratitude. Make a list (daily) of everything you are grateful for and start with the fact that you are breathing. Once the mind is trained to look for all the little things to be grateful for, it carries over into positive thoughts altogether. A written list is more powerful than a mental list.
Voltaire said "Work keeps us from three great evils, boredom, vice and poverty." I don't know what the job market was like from 1694 to 1778 when he lived, but there is always some work to do if you want to loose the boredom.
Inspiration #2- Get to Work. If you can't think of any work to do, ask someone else if they need help. Volunteerism is a great element to add to your life and everyone can benefit. Cut the grass for someone down your street - or in Chicagoland, shovel snow. Look around and see what simple little thing you can do for a friend or neighbor.
Inspiration # 3 - Avoid using the word bored. Erase it. Put lost in its place if you absolutely have to speak about it. Is "lost" better than "bored"? Maybe there is a bit more life and energy in being lost; it may imply you just now became lost, weren't always lost, and yesterday you knew where you were in life. Saying you are in transition could be the best choice, implying you are about to change. It sounds like you are thinking. Thinking is a good thing and change will come faster as a result.
Inspiration #4 - Think of one thing you can change right now and do it. This is a quickie thing just to prove to yourself that you have a pulse and can get off your butt. It doesn't matter if it's going for a walk, cleaning the fridge (without eating of course) or taking all the piles of newspapers out to recycling (oh look, I see the _____ now. - insert table, floor, or whatever the papers were hiding.)
Inspiration #5 Being around others who complain, especially of boredom, is not a good thing. If you can, engage them to join you in your effort to change. Great! Build up support for yourself. Who do you know that always seems to be busy, involved with life, committed to hobbies/sports?
Join them or emulate that behavior. Ask yourself are really living your life?
Life is a banquet. There is absolutely no limit of things to learn about, causes to support, people to help. Throw the blahs out with the garbage, listen for the drumbeat of change and join the dance of life.
Steinbeck (Grapes of Wrath) said "Man, unlike any other thing organic or inorganic in the universe, grows beyond his work, walks up the stairs of his concepts, emerges ahead of his accomplishments." WOW - we have potential.
Food for thought and hopefully, inspiration.
suZen
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Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Be Happy! A Good Choice!
Another weekend video - this one is short and sweet! I'm preparing for a week of painting a bedroom and woodwork up at the lakehouse. It's part of the re-model that will be going on (a gut job!) during the winter. I'm sure I'll be driving up several times to over-see construction. Blogs are scheduled and I WILL take peeks at it from the lovely WIFI cafe where the "Black Bear Coffee Latte" is inhaled by the gallon! I am hoping that is as close as I get to one of those pre-hibernating, hungry critters up there!
Have a great weekend ! suZen
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Have a great weekend ! suZen
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Affirming Appreciation and Respect
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Every once in a while I read a story that packs such a punch I simply must share it. This one comes from Jack Kornfield, about his experience in becoming a Buddhist monk in a forest monastery in Thailand 30 years ago.
One of the first things he had to learn was how to bow. It was required that he bow upon entering the meditation hall. This bow was a drop to your knees kind of bow, placing the head between palms on the stone floor. It was to be repeated three times - a practice of reverence and mindfulness. It was also a way of honoring with a bodily gesture, their committment to the monk's path of simplicity, compassion and awareness.
After he had been in the monastery for a few weeks, one of the senior monks pulled him aside for further instructions. "In this monastery you must not only bow when entering the meditation hall and receiving teachings from the master, but also when you meet your elders." As the only westerner, and wanting to act correctly, he asked who his elders were. He was told that it was anyone who is older in ordination time. It took him only a moment to realize that meant everybody!
In his words: " So I began to bow to them. Sometimes it was just fine - there were quite a few wise and worthy elders in the community. But sometimes it felt ridiculous. I would encounter some twenty-one-year-old monk, full of hubris, who was there only to please his parents or to eat better food than he could at home, and I had to bow because he had been ordained the week before me. Or I had to bow to a sloppy old rice farmer who had come to the monastery the season before on the farmers' retirement plan, who chewed betel nut constantly and had never meditated a day in his life. It was hard to pay reverence to these fellow forest dwellers as if they were great masters.
"Yet there I was bowing, and because I was in conflict, I sought a way to make it work. Finally, as I prepared yet again for a day of bowing to my "elders" I began to look for some worthy aspect of each person I bowed to. I bowed to the wrinkles around the retired farmers eyes, for all the difficulties he had seen and suffered through, and triumphed over. I bowed to the vitality and playfullness in the young monks, the incredible possibilities each of their lives held yet ahead of them.
"I began to enjoy bowing. I bowed to my elders, I bowed before I entered the dining hall and as I left. I bowed as I entered my forest hut, and I bowed at the well before taking a bath. After some time bowing became my way -- it was just what I did. If it moved, I bowed to it."
He goes on to write about bowing, saying the act of doing so asks of us a welcoming spirit to greet all that life presents to us with a wise, respectful and kindly heart. He says we can bow to both beauty and suffering, to our entanglements and confusion, to our fears and to the injustices of the world. Honoring the truth of what is in this was is the path to freedom, he says. To bow to what IS, rather than to some ideal is not necessarily easy, but however difficult, it is one of the most useful and honorable practices.
He says to bow to the fact of our life's sorrows and betrayals is to accept them; and from this deep gesture we discover that all life is workable.
I particularly loved how he said that as we learn to bow, we discover that the heart holds more freedom and compassion than we could imagine!
When I read this story, I took some time to let it sink in. I imagined the bow was an a combination of things - an ackowlegement, an acceptance, a sense of gratitude, all with a piece of humility attached. Could it be as simple as a joyous surrendering?
I may be in relatively good shape for my age, but I have decided that a slight bow of the head will suffice. It's what is IN my head as I do so that really counts, right?
That said, I may look like a bobble here, but I have many bows of the head today. I bow to my partner in life (a LOT and for a lot!), I bow to my children (you have taught me SO much and in many ways have made me who I am today and I am so blessed to have had you in my life!) I bow to all my teachers along the way - that is pretty much everyone I have ever met, and I bow to YOU, the reader(s), and all my commenting friends, who have taken a few gracious moments to touch my heart!
Namaste - and HUGS
suZen
Every once in a while I read a story that packs such a punch I simply must share it. This one comes from Jack Kornfield, about his experience in becoming a Buddhist monk in a forest monastery in Thailand 30 years ago.
One of the first things he had to learn was how to bow. It was required that he bow upon entering the meditation hall. This bow was a drop to your knees kind of bow, placing the head between palms on the stone floor. It was to be repeated three times - a practice of reverence and mindfulness. It was also a way of honoring with a bodily gesture, their committment to the monk's path of simplicity, compassion and awareness.
After he had been in the monastery for a few weeks, one of the senior monks pulled him aside for further instructions. "In this monastery you must not only bow when entering the meditation hall and receiving teachings from the master, but also when you meet your elders." As the only westerner, and wanting to act correctly, he asked who his elders were. He was told that it was anyone who is older in ordination time. It took him only a moment to realize that meant everybody!
In his words: " So I began to bow to them. Sometimes it was just fine - there were quite a few wise and worthy elders in the community. But sometimes it felt ridiculous. I would encounter some twenty-one-year-old monk, full of hubris, who was there only to please his parents or to eat better food than he could at home, and I had to bow because he had been ordained the week before me. Or I had to bow to a sloppy old rice farmer who had come to the monastery the season before on the farmers' retirement plan, who chewed betel nut constantly and had never meditated a day in his life. It was hard to pay reverence to these fellow forest dwellers as if they were great masters.
"Yet there I was bowing, and because I was in conflict, I sought a way to make it work. Finally, as I prepared yet again for a day of bowing to my "elders" I began to look for some worthy aspect of each person I bowed to. I bowed to the wrinkles around the retired farmers eyes, for all the difficulties he had seen and suffered through, and triumphed over. I bowed to the vitality and playfullness in the young monks, the incredible possibilities each of their lives held yet ahead of them.
"I began to enjoy bowing. I bowed to my elders, I bowed before I entered the dining hall and as I left. I bowed as I entered my forest hut, and I bowed at the well before taking a bath. After some time bowing became my way -- it was just what I did. If it moved, I bowed to it."
He goes on to write about bowing, saying the act of doing so asks of us a welcoming spirit to greet all that life presents to us with a wise, respectful and kindly heart. He says we can bow to both beauty and suffering, to our entanglements and confusion, to our fears and to the injustices of the world. Honoring the truth of what is in this was is the path to freedom, he says. To bow to what IS, rather than to some ideal is not necessarily easy, but however difficult, it is one of the most useful and honorable practices.
He says to bow to the fact of our life's sorrows and betrayals is to accept them; and from this deep gesture we discover that all life is workable.
I particularly loved how he said that as we learn to bow, we discover that the heart holds more freedom and compassion than we could imagine!
When I read this story, I took some time to let it sink in. I imagined the bow was an a combination of things - an ackowlegement, an acceptance, a sense of gratitude, all with a piece of humility attached. Could it be as simple as a joyous surrendering?
I may be in relatively good shape for my age, but I have decided that a slight bow of the head will suffice. It's what is IN my head as I do so that really counts, right?
That said, I may look like a bobble here, but I have many bows of the head today. I bow to my partner in life (a LOT and for a lot!), I bow to my children (you have taught me SO much and in many ways have made me who I am today and I am so blessed to have had you in my life!) I bow to all my teachers along the way - that is pretty much everyone I have ever met, and I bow to YOU, the reader(s), and all my commenting friends, who have taken a few gracious moments to touch my heart!
Namaste - and HUGS
suZen
Saturday, September 19, 2009
I'm Alive! Celine Dion and Great Inspiration
Let's start the weekend off with an energized song, by a fabulous singer, with wonderful positive messages on the amazing photos - Enjoy!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Boy Training - Meet A Great Blogger!
It is with the greatest pleasure that I introduce Jillian Livingston from http://isdisnormal.com as my guest blogger. I've been following her blog and just love her! She says her friends call her Silly Jilly. I call her Awesome! She is a mother who never leaves home without her tool belt loaded with a Flip camera, a first aid kit, a digital recorder, a stills camera, and a little pink "I Have Issues" notebook with ten pens attached and, of course, an iPhone.
Jillian was Twitter Mom of the Week. I'm all a-twitter over that! She is a wonderful writer and I just know we will see more of her writing in the future - everywhere!
Her blog is Is Dis Normal or Dysfunctional, that documents the spirituality behind a mother raising three boys with her mountain man of a husband outside Aspen, Colorado. (The scenery IN her house is as gorgeous as the outside, if you catch my drift!) She admits that she had two choices after she had her third boy - get addicted to Xanax or write down her stories for therapy. I feel we are all truly blessed she chose the latter. Here's Jillian:
BOYS NEED TO BE TRAINED BY THEIR MOTHERS
I decided to stop doing everything for the boys and teach them how to clean up after themselves. Their future wives can thank me later.
Once again, I sat the children down and discussed the new rules of "Team Livingston". I dug deep to be effective and told them that if they wanted a dog they must show me that they are responsible enough to handle one.
Why is it that boys are such natural slobs? It is so easy for them to pee and yet they somehow get urine everywhere. I see their good aim as they write their names in the snow, a habit formed by Daddy who loves to pee off of the deck. Why can't they aim like that into the toilet? While cleaning the toilets I hesitantly look up and there it is..the yellow spot on the ceiling!
Axel, my seven year old, is comically the absent professor. Absorbed in all of his projects he leaves a trail of messy trash wherever he goes. Shavings from wood and crayons are found directly adjacent to the splat mat, glue guns are left on and in threatening positions, potions are found in the freezer, rocks are tossed about in my new washer and dryer.
When I see Axel eating at the table, the only one without a place mat, I say “Axel, know thyself! He gives me that sweet, knowing smile and I return it. We are working on communicating and listening better to one another.
Every day I tell myself not to reprimand Axel. How could I get mad at that sweet, wise old soul? EASILY! "AXXXEEELLLL, why are you putting your shoes on with only one sock on? Why is there a mound of sugar next to the sugar bowl? Why are your clothes all over the floor? Snap out of your dream world and get ready for school!".
Being in tune with my frustrations, Brevitt, my oldest, has started to help me out a lot more. He has taken over Daddy's role in the house when Daddy is gone. It is a bittersweet blessing as he stands beside me like my parrot repeating my orders. I constantly have to remind him that I am the only one who needs to yell at his brothers.
The dog ploy is working and I am in total denial that this means we will be getting a dog. When ever the dog is mentioned Wade's eyes glaze over. He was never enthusiastic about having three kids and now I am throwing a dog into the equation? He truly thinks that I am slowly dripping over to the other not so quite right side. Hopefully he will still love all of us once Rex enters the scene and destroys his labor of love.
Urine on the ceiling will not be our only challenge.
.
Jillian was Twitter Mom of the Week. I'm all a-twitter over that! She is a wonderful writer and I just know we will see more of her writing in the future - everywhere!
Her blog is Is Dis Normal or Dysfunctional, that documents the spirituality behind a mother raising three boys with her mountain man of a husband outside Aspen, Colorado. (The scenery IN her house is as gorgeous as the outside, if you catch my drift!) She admits that she had two choices after she had her third boy - get addicted to Xanax or write down her stories for therapy. I feel we are all truly blessed she chose the latter. Here's Jillian:
BOYS NEED TO BE TRAINED BY THEIR MOTHERS
I decided to stop doing everything for the boys and teach them how to clean up after themselves. Their future wives can thank me later.
Once again, I sat the children down and discussed the new rules of "Team Livingston". I dug deep to be effective and told them that if they wanted a dog they must show me that they are responsible enough to handle one.
Why is it that boys are such natural slobs? It is so easy for them to pee and yet they somehow get urine everywhere. I see their good aim as they write their names in the snow, a habit formed by Daddy who loves to pee off of the deck. Why can't they aim like that into the toilet? While cleaning the toilets I hesitantly look up and there it is..the yellow spot on the ceiling!
Axel, my seven year old, is comically the absent professor. Absorbed in all of his projects he leaves a trail of messy trash wherever he goes. Shavings from wood and crayons are found directly adjacent to the splat mat, glue guns are left on and in threatening positions, potions are found in the freezer, rocks are tossed about in my new washer and dryer.
When I see Axel eating at the table, the only one without a place mat, I say “Axel, know thyself! He gives me that sweet, knowing smile and I return it. We are working on communicating and listening better to one another.
Every day I tell myself not to reprimand Axel. How could I get mad at that sweet, wise old soul? EASILY! "AXXXEEELLLL, why are you putting your shoes on with only one sock on? Why is there a mound of sugar next to the sugar bowl? Why are your clothes all over the floor? Snap out of your dream world and get ready for school!".
Being in tune with my frustrations, Brevitt, my oldest, has started to help me out a lot more. He has taken over Daddy's role in the house when Daddy is gone. It is a bittersweet blessing as he stands beside me like my parrot repeating my orders. I constantly have to remind him that I am the only one who needs to yell at his brothers.
The dog ploy is working and I am in total denial that this means we will be getting a dog. When ever the dog is mentioned Wade's eyes glaze over. He was never enthusiastic about having three kids and now I am throwing a dog into the equation? He truly thinks that I am slowly dripping over to the other not so quite right side. Hopefully he will still love all of us once Rex enters the scene and destroys his labor of love.
Urine on the ceiling will not be our only challenge.
.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Getting Forked - Flashbacks
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You know how one thing leads to another? You make a plan. It may or may not get going, you get hit with choices, obstacles, delays and many times there is that fork in the road decision time.
I remember in my youth (just barely, but some things I remember!) thinking that I had a plan. Well if that isn't an open door to hear God laughing his head off! What did I know about life at 18? I thought you had to have a plan and once you made your plan, well, you just do it.
And I did. I took one step in the direction of my plan and then, without warning, there was this fork in the road. This way or that way? Make a choice. Like the airport terminal at O'Hare with the moving sidewalks, the voice over the speaker says (adding pressure to my moment of indecision) "Keep Walking. Keep Walking." So I had to choose. And I had to keep walking.
The phrase "I should have zigged, but instead I zagged." immediately comes to mind. There was always something about that fork in the road that sent panic to my heart. The state of panic is never a good time to decide anything, unless you are drowning in an ocean and somebody throws you a lifeline. That, you don't think about! To say I was stunned by the regularity of this fork in the road, or the weirdness of the path's directions (some choices not being ideal, or even equally icky) would be an understatement.
I spent a lot of energy trying to ignore the obvious (this isn't working) and fought the fork in the road, stubbornly determined to MAKE IT WORK! I suffered from a tremendous inability to let go (of the plan) and not because it was all that great, but I thought one had to be strong, to endure, to stay committed. And also because I was decision-averse, truth be told.
I was somewhat comforted about that decision-averse thing when I had my astrological chart read. I have many planets in Gemini and I'm on the cusp of Gemini and Cancer. Well that makes perfect sense right there, doesn't it? No wonder! I've been blessed with talents but decision making isn't one of them. Duh. I was also told this would account for my abnormally large and frantically hyperactive Monkeymind, and frantically attempting to do 17 things at once.
When I say I was "somewhat" comforted, that's about it. It's like thinking you are nuts, and then having someone tell you "Yes, you are nuts." Ok then. I wasn't sure what to do with that. Forks in the road drove me crazy. Many times I'd swear up a storm and end it with NOW WHAT???? I wasn't into serendipity. I didn't know about acceptance. I didn't have any quiet moments of reflection. Oh no! It was more like a pity-party with just a touch of hysteria. The major accomplishment of my youthful era was a PhD in Whining.
Hind-sight is a beautiful thing. Wish I had it EARLIER, but oh well, I'm certainly not going to whine about it! I reached an age (perhaps the onset of menopause?) when I believe God saw me floundering around (still!) and said, "Hey there little warrior, let's dust you off a bit, fix your broken parts, polish you up nice and shiny and put you back on the game board in the Game of Life and let you start over."
Well, Thank God for God! YES!
In case you're wondering, I didn't get the make-over part! Not on the outside. It was all internal stuff. (I think that's what He meant!) I didn't get to REALLY start over either - like he didn't wipe 25 years off of me or anything. He did, however, fix the part of me that made a fork in the road send me into panic mode. It has been worth the long time in coming, this serenity and joy and panic-less living! In my case, it came with wrinkles and thinning hair, but has graciously made its presence prior to my death! There is always something to be thankful for!
We all have plans - dates on the calendar type of plans, vacation plans, and the bigger life plans. When something interferes with what you had planned, like getting forked, how do you react?
You know how one thing leads to another? You make a plan. It may or may not get going, you get hit with choices, obstacles, delays and many times there is that fork in the road decision time.
I remember in my youth (just barely, but some things I remember!) thinking that I had a plan. Well if that isn't an open door to hear God laughing his head off! What did I know about life at 18? I thought you had to have a plan and once you made your plan, well, you just do it.
And I did. I took one step in the direction of my plan and then, without warning, there was this fork in the road. This way or that way? Make a choice. Like the airport terminal at O'Hare with the moving sidewalks, the voice over the speaker says (adding pressure to my moment of indecision) "Keep Walking. Keep Walking." So I had to choose. And I had to keep walking.
The phrase "I should have zigged, but instead I zagged." immediately comes to mind. There was always something about that fork in the road that sent panic to my heart. The state of panic is never a good time to decide anything, unless you are drowning in an ocean and somebody throws you a lifeline. That, you don't think about! To say I was stunned by the regularity of this fork in the road, or the weirdness of the path's directions (some choices not being ideal, or even equally icky) would be an understatement.
I spent a lot of energy trying to ignore the obvious (this isn't working) and fought the fork in the road, stubbornly determined to MAKE IT WORK! I suffered from a tremendous inability to let go (of the plan) and not because it was all that great, but I thought one had to be strong, to endure, to stay committed. And also because I was decision-averse, truth be told.
I was somewhat comforted about that decision-averse thing when I had my astrological chart read. I have many planets in Gemini and I'm on the cusp of Gemini and Cancer. Well that makes perfect sense right there, doesn't it? No wonder! I've been blessed with talents but decision making isn't one of them. Duh. I was also told this would account for my abnormally large and frantically hyperactive Monkeymind, and frantically attempting to do 17 things at once.
When I say I was "somewhat" comforted, that's about it. It's like thinking you are nuts, and then having someone tell you "Yes, you are nuts." Ok then. I wasn't sure what to do with that. Forks in the road drove me crazy. Many times I'd swear up a storm and end it with NOW WHAT???? I wasn't into serendipity. I didn't know about acceptance. I didn't have any quiet moments of reflection. Oh no! It was more like a pity-party with just a touch of hysteria. The major accomplishment of my youthful era was a PhD in Whining.
Hind-sight is a beautiful thing. Wish I had it EARLIER, but oh well, I'm certainly not going to whine about it! I reached an age (perhaps the onset of menopause?) when I believe God saw me floundering around (still!) and said, "Hey there little warrior, let's dust you off a bit, fix your broken parts, polish you up nice and shiny and put you back on the game board in the Game of Life and let you start over."
Well, Thank God for God! YES!
In case you're wondering, I didn't get the make-over part! Not on the outside. It was all internal stuff. (I think that's what He meant!) I didn't get to REALLY start over either - like he didn't wipe 25 years off of me or anything. He did, however, fix the part of me that made a fork in the road send me into panic mode. It has been worth the long time in coming, this serenity and joy and panic-less living! In my case, it came with wrinkles and thinning hair, but has graciously made its presence prior to my death! There is always something to be thankful for!
We all have plans - dates on the calendar type of plans, vacation plans, and the bigger life plans. When something interferes with what you had planned, like getting forked, how do you react?
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Juggling Life
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Who out there doesn't have to juggle things - appointments, schedules, bills? How many things do you have up in the air at all times? Here is THE master juggler of all times, in my estimation. For this weekend, or part of it, see if you can put the balls down and relax a bit. The music on this video is enjoyable too - just listen and watch til the end because this is really quite awesome!
Have a great weekend!
.
Who out there doesn't have to juggle things - appointments, schedules, bills? How many things do you have up in the air at all times? Here is THE master juggler of all times, in my estimation. For this weekend, or part of it, see if you can put the balls down and relax a bit. The music on this video is enjoyable too - just listen and watch til the end because this is really quite awesome!
Have a great weekend!
.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The Look
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Years ago I read "Mutant Message From Down Under" which is about one woman's time spent with an Aboriginal tribe in Australia and her "walkabout" adventure with them. I was struck by the fact that these people communicated telepathically with one another - language, as we know it, simple wasn't used.
Can you imagine what THAT would be like? I guess that would eliminate people saying "That's not what I said!" or "That's not what I meant!" Or would it? Can you argue without words? I just wonder how that works with them.
We do, however, have "looks" that communnicate without words.
My mother could shoot me a look. No words, but the look in her eyes was a warning - dad was in a foul mood, do not say a word, behave, be quiet. My dad wasn't much for looks. He just said it!
I remember my Catholic school nun teacher had a whole repetoir of looks. One with a raised eyebrow - that one meant "Oh really? You sure about that?" She also had a look that could kill, though I know nuns aren't supposed to do that! When she shot you that look, you froze in your tracks or stopped mid-sentence. You probably had 10 seconds to apologize for whatever infraction you thoughtlessly committed.
Growing up we all had training in giving looks. It was subtle of course. One of those observing lessons, no grades, no tests.
I know I have a great "Don't you DARE!" look. Admittedly I lack the one raised eyebrow questioning kind of look, darn it. I practiced in a mirror. I can't pull that one off. The both go up together - which is great if you want that "You've got to be kidding!" surprised kind of look. It does have it's place.
When our kids were in their early teens of course you get the rolled eyes look. I've come to know many things from that look. I am a dork. I live on another planet. I am a total embarassment to my kids. It DOES say a lot! Without words. I rarely use this look myself - it makes me dizzy.
The Dating/Mating Game is famous for looks. We all know those! The "I'm interested." "I'm ready!" And of course the look with head jerk that says "Let's get outta here."
While we haven't mastered total wordless communication, we do have a small corner of the market when it comes to looks - and some pack a mighty punch!
Do you have a favorite one? Or do you remember getting a look you will never forget? I don't think we'll master total telepathy any time soon. It sure would be interesting though!
(Thanks Mick!)
Years ago I read "Mutant Message From Down Under" which is about one woman's time spent with an Aboriginal tribe in Australia and her "walkabout" adventure with them. I was struck by the fact that these people communicated telepathically with one another - language, as we know it, simple wasn't used.
Can you imagine what THAT would be like? I guess that would eliminate people saying "That's not what I said!" or "That's not what I meant!" Or would it? Can you argue without words? I just wonder how that works with them.
We do, however, have "looks" that communnicate without words.
My mother could shoot me a look. No words, but the look in her eyes was a warning - dad was in a foul mood, do not say a word, behave, be quiet. My dad wasn't much for looks. He just said it!
I remember my Catholic school nun teacher had a whole repetoir of looks. One with a raised eyebrow - that one meant "Oh really? You sure about that?" She also had a look that could kill, though I know nuns aren't supposed to do that! When she shot you that look, you froze in your tracks or stopped mid-sentence. You probably had 10 seconds to apologize for whatever infraction you thoughtlessly committed.
Growing up we all had training in giving looks. It was subtle of course. One of those observing lessons, no grades, no tests.
I know I have a great "Don't you DARE!" look. Admittedly I lack the one raised eyebrow questioning kind of look, darn it. I practiced in a mirror. I can't pull that one off. The both go up together - which is great if you want that "You've got to be kidding!" surprised kind of look. It does have it's place.
When our kids were in their early teens of course you get the rolled eyes look. I've come to know many things from that look. I am a dork. I live on another planet. I am a total embarassment to my kids. It DOES say a lot! Without words. I rarely use this look myself - it makes me dizzy.
The Dating/Mating Game is famous for looks. We all know those! The "I'm interested." "I'm ready!" And of course the look with head jerk that says "Let's get outta here."
While we haven't mastered total wordless communication, we do have a small corner of the market when it comes to looks - and some pack a mighty punch!
Do you have a favorite one? Or do you remember getting a look you will never forget? I don't think we'll master total telepathy any time soon. It sure would be interesting though!
(Thanks Mick!)
Monday, September 7, 2009
Neurotic, Normal, or No Limits?
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I was leafing through one of my notebooks today, and found some notes I took during one of Wayne Dyer's presentations. I wrote a blog a few months back on having a No Limits attitude/being a No Limits person, and there is still so much to say and think about it.
First of all, Dyer says that how we are feeling should NEVER be a result of stuff outside of ourselves. Our feelings are all about our inner life.
I don't disagree but golly, it's hard sometimes isn't it? I know I have made progress in not reacting to things as much as I did in the past with my "Caution: REACTOR" t-shirt!
As if that one statement above wasn't enough of a bone to chew on, there is this. Dyer breaks people down into three major catagories:
NEUROTIC - People with a fear of the unknown, they fixate on wanting to be safe, they whine and complain about change. They are averse to anything new, or changes due to their intense fear of failure. They cling to the familiar. They are occupied with finding fault. They are people pleasers to the point of compromising their beliefs if they think it will make them more loved.
NORMAL - There is a level of acceptance. These people will try to "deal with it" - changes or new things. They associate with like-minded people, and tend to stay in a circle of people they have things in common with. They follow rules. In general, they go along with things well.
NO LIMIT - These people welcome the unknown. They don't need a plan, agenda or goal. They are open-minded, will try anything, and they are not intimidated. They have a strong ability to enjoy life and see miracles.
If you've read his book on being a No Limits person, you know there is a lot more to this than my notes. But taken as is, where do find yourself in these catagories?
.
.
.
.
(This is perhaps one of the best books for change, getting outside the box you may think you are stuck in and exploring your own greatness. I'd include the link to get the book but they only have it on CD. I guess it's a classic because they had one used copy for over $100. Yikes. I knew I liked it! It's one that I have read and re-read, highlighted, and used for journaling - it's just great stuff! A lot of people prefer CD's to books anyway I guess.)
I was leafing through one of my notebooks today, and found some notes I took during one of Wayne Dyer's presentations. I wrote a blog a few months back on having a No Limits attitude/being a No Limits person, and there is still so much to say and think about it.
First of all, Dyer says that how we are feeling should NEVER be a result of stuff outside of ourselves. Our feelings are all about our inner life.
I don't disagree but golly, it's hard sometimes isn't it? I know I have made progress in not reacting to things as much as I did in the past with my "Caution: REACTOR" t-shirt!
As if that one statement above wasn't enough of a bone to chew on, there is this. Dyer breaks people down into three major catagories:
NEUROTIC - People with a fear of the unknown, they fixate on wanting to be safe, they whine and complain about change. They are averse to anything new, or changes due to their intense fear of failure. They cling to the familiar. They are occupied with finding fault. They are people pleasers to the point of compromising their beliefs if they think it will make them more loved.
NORMAL - There is a level of acceptance. These people will try to "deal with it" - changes or new things. They associate with like-minded people, and tend to stay in a circle of people they have things in common with. They follow rules. In general, they go along with things well.
NO LIMIT - These people welcome the unknown. They don't need a plan, agenda or goal. They are open-minded, will try anything, and they are not intimidated. They have a strong ability to enjoy life and see miracles.
If you've read his book on being a No Limits person, you know there is a lot more to this than my notes. But taken as is, where do find yourself in these catagories?
.
.
.
.
(This is perhaps one of the best books for change, getting outside the box you may think you are stuck in and exploring your own greatness. I'd include the link to get the book but they only have it on CD. I guess it's a classic because they had one used copy for over $100. Yikes. I knew I liked it! It's one that I have read and re-read, highlighted, and used for journaling - it's just great stuff! A lot of people prefer CD's to books anyway I guess.)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Blessings In Fur
I love dogs! Saw this video and the simplicity and sweetness really got to me! Hope you all enjoy it and your long weekend as well! May it be filled with love!
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Fanny Farmer: A Lady In Waiting
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I'm waiting. I'm trying to wait patiently. For what, you ask? For my harvest!
Around the end of May I planted the first vegetable I've had in 18 years. When the kids were little, I had a 35 ft. x 50 ft garden. I grew everything,cucumbers, zucchini, watermelons, rutabagas, broccoli, several kinds of tomatoes and more. My neighbors asked when I was going to get chickens! It was huge, the crops always larger than we could consume in a summer so I canned a lot and gave some to the same neighbors who would have called cops IF I did, in fact, get chickens!
In May, I worked an area on the south side of the house into a small garden. I thought it would be great fun to grow my own salad fixings so I wouldn't have to go to the farmer's market every Saturday. I also thought of the thrifty move this was! Saving money, eatting food from your own garden, the whole back to the farm living thing.
I bought stakes, new cages, some great wire fencing to keep the rabbits out and stakes for that - and the plants. I couldn't believe that my total was well over $120. Man, I better get one honkin' harvest to make up for that, but then it may be a better return after two or more summer gardens? I figured hubs, being an accountant, would be figuring all this out, whether I wanted to actually KNOW or not.
So June - a month of 3 days of sunshine and mostly rain, drizzle, and the gray-for-nothing days. Each time we had a hard rain, the water dripping off the house washed the soil off the plant's roots, always the poor peppers. Many times I went out there after a rain trying to hoe up the soil and recover the poor roots. The tomatoes weren't affected by this because of where they were situated. They just weren't growing. No sun. No warm days. So I waited. And I waited. And then I started fertilizing.
I was up at the lake most of July. I wondered what was happening at home in my garden. When I came home I was astounded. Guess that fertilizer kicked in! The tomato plants were over six feet tall! I'm not kidding. There were yellow buds and small raisinette sized tomatoes on the top portions of the plants. The cucumbers misbehaved and sent their tendrils of growth outside their cage limits right into the tomato area and were clinging to the tomato plants. Cukes the size of my little finger were happily dangling from the vines. It was the end of July and nothing edible yet. Maybe August?
One of the tomato plants is a cherry tomato, those little darlings you can toss into a salad. There were a lot of them starting to grow, and as I peeked under branches assessing how many potential handfuls I would be picking (someday!) I found TWO RED ones! Finally, in mid August, something I can pick and eat. I held those two grape sized sweethearts in my hand and the temptation to pop them in my mouth was somehow overcome.
I'd been getting teased a lot about the garden. "When is the crop coming in?" "Anything growing YET???" So the day I picked those two, I put each one in the middle of two salad plates on the table. At dinner, hubs says, "Is this little tomato from our garden the salad tonite?" I smiled proudly and said "Yes. And it's worth $59.95 so enjoy it!"
That was two weeks ago. Since then I picked 3 cucumbers, 4 more cherry tomatoes and several handfuls of parsley. The parsley looks like a plant out of Jurasic Park, the obvious recipient of too much fertilizer! The peppers are total mutants. I've never seen anything like them. Maybe if they are chopped up you wouldn't know that, but they are beyond ugly. There are tomatoes growing, though the branches have collapsed from the weight of them being up so darn high. They are green. They have been green a long time now. This could be the year of fried green tomatoes. Except I can't eat fried food!
I am glad there is a farmer's market in town. I wonder if they used sun lamps on their tomatoes because they are a luscious red look and taste great. I know this for a fact. I bought them.
My hope is that my tomatoes will turn red before the leaves on the trees do! Shine on Harvest Moon!
Anyone out there having growing problems besides me? Or is my garden just another computer fiasco in disguise?
I'm waiting. I'm trying to wait patiently. For what, you ask? For my harvest!
Around the end of May I planted the first vegetable I've had in 18 years. When the kids were little, I had a 35 ft. x 50 ft garden. I grew everything,cucumbers, zucchini, watermelons, rutabagas, broccoli, several kinds of tomatoes and more. My neighbors asked when I was going to get chickens! It was huge, the crops always larger than we could consume in a summer so I canned a lot and gave some to the same neighbors who would have called cops IF I did, in fact, get chickens!
In May, I worked an area on the south side of the house into a small garden. I thought it would be great fun to grow my own salad fixings so I wouldn't have to go to the farmer's market every Saturday. I also thought of the thrifty move this was! Saving money, eatting food from your own garden, the whole back to the farm living thing.
I bought stakes, new cages, some great wire fencing to keep the rabbits out and stakes for that - and the plants. I couldn't believe that my total was well over $120. Man, I better get one honkin' harvest to make up for that, but then it may be a better return after two or more summer gardens? I figured hubs, being an accountant, would be figuring all this out, whether I wanted to actually KNOW or not.
So June - a month of 3 days of sunshine and mostly rain, drizzle, and the gray-for-nothing days. Each time we had a hard rain, the water dripping off the house washed the soil off the plant's roots, always the poor peppers. Many times I went out there after a rain trying to hoe up the soil and recover the poor roots. The tomatoes weren't affected by this because of where they were situated. They just weren't growing. No sun. No warm days. So I waited. And I waited. And then I started fertilizing.
I was up at the lake most of July. I wondered what was happening at home in my garden. When I came home I was astounded. Guess that fertilizer kicked in! The tomato plants were over six feet tall! I'm not kidding. There were yellow buds and small raisinette sized tomatoes on the top portions of the plants. The cucumbers misbehaved and sent their tendrils of growth outside their cage limits right into the tomato area and were clinging to the tomato plants. Cukes the size of my little finger were happily dangling from the vines. It was the end of July and nothing edible yet. Maybe August?
One of the tomato plants is a cherry tomato, those little darlings you can toss into a salad. There were a lot of them starting to grow, and as I peeked under branches assessing how many potential handfuls I would be picking (someday!) I found TWO RED ones! Finally, in mid August, something I can pick and eat. I held those two grape sized sweethearts in my hand and the temptation to pop them in my mouth was somehow overcome.
I'd been getting teased a lot about the garden. "When is the crop coming in?" "Anything growing YET???" So the day I picked those two, I put each one in the middle of two salad plates on the table. At dinner, hubs says, "Is this little tomato from our garden the salad tonite?" I smiled proudly and said "Yes. And it's worth $59.95 so enjoy it!"
That was two weeks ago. Since then I picked 3 cucumbers, 4 more cherry tomatoes and several handfuls of parsley. The parsley looks like a plant out of Jurasic Park, the obvious recipient of too much fertilizer! The peppers are total mutants. I've never seen anything like them. Maybe if they are chopped up you wouldn't know that, but they are beyond ugly. There are tomatoes growing, though the branches have collapsed from the weight of them being up so darn high. They are green. They have been green a long time now. This could be the year of fried green tomatoes. Except I can't eat fried food!
I am glad there is a farmer's market in town. I wonder if they used sun lamps on their tomatoes because they are a luscious red look and taste great. I know this for a fact. I bought them.
My hope is that my tomatoes will turn red before the leaves on the trees do! Shine on Harvest Moon!
Anyone out there having growing problems besides me? Or is my garden just another computer fiasco in disguise?
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