It’s all about how we use it. Energy is energy. Weather it becomes positive or negative…well…that’s up to us. The surprising thing is how many people use it in a negative way. The question is, why waste good energy on the negatives? Let’s use an example. Your are stuck in traffic and will be late because of it. Most often our reaction is to fume. Fuming takes energy. When arriving at your destination, you notice you are exhausted just from getting there. What if sitting there stuck in traffic, you decided there was a reason for it. Maybe there is an accident up ahead that you would have been a part of if not for the slow traffic. Or perhaps you would have been speeding and gotten a ticket if not for the inconvenience of the traffic. I don’t believe there are any coincidences in life. Everything happens for a reason. If you decided to accept that philosophy and accepted the circumstances instead of fuming, you would arrive late, but relaxed and still full of energy. The energy would not be used up on negativism and would still be available for positives. Now, take the example of wind.…
If only I could remember where my memory is!
The human brain is a computer; the original and unarguably most complex computer of all time. The average American uses about 10% of the brains capacity in a normal day, although nearly 100% of our brain will be used at some time or other in a given lifetime. Now, that’s not saying much for us, in fact, it’s a little embarrassing. Of course, there are some people who utilize a greater amount of brain power in their daily lives; the super stars of eCommerce, of Wall Street, of Brain Surgery. As for me, I’m pretty sure I’m in the 10% category most of the time. Well I was before I stepped over the hill anyway. Now I’m simply struggling to remember to use it. If I could only figure out a way to use 20% of it, I’d most likely start remembering things again. I hate getting in the car and wondering, as I put the key in the ignition, where it is that I’m in such a hurry to get to. My Google Calendar is a life saver. It’s always sending me little email reminders of where I need to be and when. I love it. I’ve trained myself…
Katie’s Legacy
Katie died of a brain aneurism. She was thirty one years old. I didn’t really know her all that well but I attended her funeral service out of respect for the family. From that service and the gathering that followed, I discovered I’d missed out on knowing a beautiful soul. This young woman had not only managed to touch the hearts of many in her short time on earth but she’d made a huge impact and an actual difference with her life. Katie leaves behind a legacy of love. Not a person spoke of her without embellishing on the love and caring they’d always felt from her smile, her laughter, her touch. One young woman spoke of the impact Katie had on her life, particularly over the last few years. How she’d learned to truly care for others and share her thoughts and feelings with family and friends because of Katie’s example. She vowed to “pay it forward” as she knew Katie would want her to do. She vowed to take all the love and acceptance she’d received from her friend and pass it on for the rest of her life, in effect, stepping into Katie’s shoes. I…
Let’s Not Talk About It!
I don’t want to be a complainer, so I’ve decided not to carry on about my dilapidation. If you’re over fifty, you know what I mean. I’ve decided not to be the kind of person who looks like they’re in pain every minute of their lives, even if I am. You know the people I’m talking about. You ask how they’re doing and they look ready to cry. Then they say, “Well, as good as can be expected under the circumstances, I suppose.” Then you’re trapped. You have no choice but to ask what the circumstances are and that leads to endless whining and complaining about every ache and pain imaginable. So, I’m not going to tell anyone about the way my feet hurt so badly I can hardly walk, (Plantar Faciatis, if you were wondering), or how my hip wakes me up in the night, (probably need a replacement). And I’m certainly not going to talk about my hot flashes and night sweats and the fact that I’d give anything for a good nights sleep. No, I’m not going there. I have vowed to avoid complaining at all costs. I’m just going to go to the podiatrist…
A Girls Best Friend
These are my dogs, the best little buddies a person could ask for. Rita is on the left, Maggie on the right. Without these two, I would be the size of the Goodyear blimp. They are, first and foremost, my exercise program. Rita and Maggie rise and shine with the crows every morning. That’s early around here. With the sunrise comes the yawn and stretch of the crows. They have a tendency to hang around on the deck railings bight and early so as to drive the dogs crazy. The barking begins as does my day. Two cups of coffee later and we’re out the door for a good three miles. Rita is never done, never tired and always begging to keep going. Maggie, on the other hand, has short little Corgie legs and has had enough by the time we reach home. I like to get some writing done first thing, so we head into my office and get to work. Their job is to curl up on my sofa and listen to me read as I write. Normally this puts them right to sleep, but they put up with me for a few hours. In the…
What to Wear?
It’s that time of year again. I spent yesterday clearing the winter clothes out of the closet and moving them to another closet. Then, I got out all the summer stuff and dumped it on our bed. I was so excited – I love summer clothes, especially summer dresses and skirts. But things are changing in the warm weather wardrobe of this woman in her fifties. For some reason, many of my old favorites don’t look quite right any more. Actually, some of them have gotten a lot smaller over the winter. I don’t know how that happens. Regardless, I’m in a world of hurt. I have nothing to wear. I either need to go shopping or shrink myself into my shrunken clothes. Is there time to do that? I mean before summer really sets in? I’m not sure and the last thing I want to have happen is for the eighty degree weather to show up and not be prepared. What would I do? If I wait too long, all the good stuff will be gone, and the stores will start bringing in the fall merchandise. Yet, with the way our weather has been, there’s a good…
The Nose, Knows
Once the nose gets a hold of a good head cold, it hangs on for all it’s worth. I’ve tried it all; antihistamines, decongestants, nasal irrigation, mustard plasters, and gargles. I’m taking every vitamin known to man. The nose continues to sneeze, sniffle, run, plug, and blow. There is no quieting the nose, no soothing the nose and certainly, no stopping the nose. It won’t quit. Once the nose gets a really masterful cold going, it becomes the biggest thing on my face. It’s huge in it’s swollen plugged up state of germ infested bulberousness. It’s like a small pumpkin where my nose used to be. I’d cut off my nose despite my face if it would do me any good. I hate the thing. Not only that, but now it’s got a tissue rash that is severe. I mean it’s raw and it hurts like crazy every time I need to blow my nose which is about every thirty five seconds. Yes, I’m using the soft tissue with the moisturizer in it. I think I’m allergic to it though; I think it’s attributing to my sneezing. I’m about to call roto-rooter. I think I need the snake to go…
Under the Weather
As I’m feeling a bit “under the weather,” I decided to find out where that old saying came from. Old it is, apparently dating back to 1827. Since it was commonly believed that bad weather could make you sick, a person would be “under the weather” when taken ill. The other explanation I found, and like better, is when sailors were sick they would rest below deck and were therefore literally “under the weather.” Also, the deck on a ship was commonly referred to as the “weather bow,” so the saying may have originally been “under the weather bow.” Either way, it’s a good saying and I believe it to be true for several reasons. First, I’ve rarely ever have taken ill in good weather. I honestly cannot remember a day where the sun was out and the air was warm and I was sick. I totally agree that cold, wet, cloudy weather is the cause of both physical and mental illness. Usually, I become both during the long, dark, Pacific Northwest winters. Second is the fact that we hide from the weather when we aren’t well. Everything is exaggerated when we are sick. The warm is too…
Monkey Business
There was a monkey swinging outside my window in the cedar tree the other morning. It was the color of creamed coffee with a white belly and a white face. He had huge eyes the color of amber and they sparkled when he caught sight of the sun and his tail was so long it looked to be wound around the branch he was hanging from about ten times. Amazing, really, to have monkeys living here. I’ve always been told they prefer a much warmer climate. People don’t talk about them much, yet we are certainly inconvenienced by the little pests nearly everyday. As we all know, they have a propensity for theft. The biggest mistake I ever made in respect to our monkey friends was leaving my cell phone out on the porch when I went grocery shopping the other day. It was gone when I returned home and I knew who had taken it. It turned up on the side of the road yesterday, beat up and ruined, monkey prints all over it. The other thing they’ve been doing lately is pulling the flowers out of the pots, making a huge mess, dirt all over…
A Day In The Life
It goes like this: Whine, whine, whimper, whimper. It’s about six in the morning and the dogs want in. My husband gets up, opens the bedroom door and climbs back in bed with two dogs who want to be under the covers and cuddled up close. The little one can’t quite get herself off the ground anymore so she needs a lift. About an hour later, I get up and one of the dogs get up with me; Rita. She wants to go outside and she will not take her penetrating eyes off either one of us until she is let outside. About fifteen minutes later she is at the door barking to be let in. She won’t stop barking until we let her in. In the meantime, Maggie, the little one, is still under the covers in our bed. We can’t see her because she is small and nestled down at the bottom of the bed. Rita is back in the house now, feet cleaned off and dried and she heads for the kitchen. She comes to me with those penetrating eyes that say “how could you possibly let my water bowl go dry? Where is my breakfast?” I…