hafacenturyncounting

Motivated by a lack of material.

Archive for the tag “wisdom”

An Election To Remember

Every year for the past 12, Lexus has held it’s “December To Remember” Event. It was/is an advertising masterpiece. The holiday style music, the beautiful snowy landscapes, images that have you smelling essence of evergreen Christmas trees and warm vanilla cookies in the kitchen and it all crescendos into the excited, teary eyes realization that someone has gotten damn near the best big ticket present imaginable, if you like that sorta thing. Lexus make me want/ imagine/ believe that one day I too could have the Lexus of my dreams waiting in my snowy driveway, perfectly shoveled clean of course. It doesn’t get any better than that and each time the commercial comes on no matter how hard I try to look away and tell myself, “Lexus is full of it”. My eyes and ears and mind wander or are drawn back to the exact place Lexus wants me to be in. If I had the money, I’d be on a Lexus lot somewhere in Georgia making this MY” December To Remember”.

Needless to say, I believe Lexus’ ad campaign has worked. However, you are probably saying this is a rather lengthy introduction to…. “what is this piece about?” It is about the 2012 Presidential Race. Today is the day when some people will be happy and others not-so-happy. It is not going to be the end of the world, but it will be a new beginning. I take a deep breath as I write this, I have been up since 6 okay 5:50 A.M. I have done everything in my power to stay away from the television and news websites. At this point in time I have been successful but it is not quite 9’o clock in the morning. I, like most of my friends and associates, have work to do. Fortunately, for my state of mind, the schedule is  rather light,  unfortunate for my state of finances though. Nonetheless, I still have time to think. I think back to  a day in November when history was made in this great country of ours. A day when people of color, black people,  sighed a sigh of relief and shed tears of disbelief because a country that had not always been kind to us, a country that had not always been fair to us had a meeting of minds and hearts. A day when a collective cross-sectioned group said, I want this guy to run our nation and I don’t care what he looks like.

I am not a political analyst, I am probably not the most informed individual you will meet. I am passionate though, therefore when I read something or see something on the airways that upsets me, I am more prone to turn it off, close the book on, or move along, than to continue with the prospect I may become incensed. This has not been a clean campaign but I do not think it was the dirtiest either; partially because the President’s opponent could NOT drudge up a significant amount of dirt, but mostly because there isn’t any of significance. No one can question Barack Obama’s character, so they question his birth right. No one can question his intelligence, so they question his decision making. No one can question his ability to lead in dire situations, so they try to take credit away from him and give it to someone/anyone but him. President Obama called for change last time, well his opponents are using that battle cry against him now.

It is perplexing and I am perplexed. I guess it can be summed up    as , “you believe what you want to believe”. I have blamed and/or credited this campaign with everything from my departure from a church I thought I loved to loosing clients. I have argued, debated and pleaded with my husband and sons about the rolls of this election, voting in general, and what it all means. In my small family I have a cynic, a bleeding heart, and a radical. My role is to referee these people, while sifting through MY feelings .

This has been a battle, an emotional roller-coaster for many, myself included. Yet in a few hours it will HOPEFULLY be over. I hope and I pray that it goes the way I want it to go. I have to be honest. I want this to end with me felling like I do when I finish watch one of those Lexus commercials. The music faintly playing from another room and you still can recognize this is in fact one of those commercials, but you are still drawn in. I want to feel like,”WOW.. one day, soon, maybe even tomorrow, AT LAST”, this is possible again.

When It Just Stopped Being Fun

I cannot remember the moment, but one day I recall there was no more joy attached to it. Then there was a sense of emptiness. I didn’t know why. When I finally put my finger on it, there was the feeling of loss. How does one recover from such a thing?

I am going to start with a positive and use it as a mechanism to get us thinking. Cooking… now our generation grew up with some fabulous cooks. We will say mother, grandmother, aunts,  sisters,  for starters(because I realize there are some fathers in this list as well). It was important for us to be able to cook and these ladies saw to it that we did. My family had some great cooks. We had Sunday dinners that were reminiscent of the ones depicted in the movie “Soul Food”. Two of my childhood friends fathers were great cooks in  their own rights.  To say that cooking and food surrounded my life would be an understatement. I  have cooked and baked since I was about 10 years old.

A natural deduction would be I must be a pretty good cook as well, that would be correct. Another one would be I must enjoy cooking, that would be incorrect. You see I was an overweight child; but that didn’t turn me against cooking, if anything it motivated me to do it more and more often. Later I married a man who did not object to cooking, and often took it upon himself to cook because of our working hours. I will give this point as contributory. However, my not enjoying cooking stemmed from what stated this entire dialog.. It just stopped being FUN. Cooking is an art, a talent. It is for sustenance and pleasure. A way of sharing feelings, if you will. It can be sensual, down right joyful, and let’s not forget the all important it just plain tastes good.

What began to happen was I attached a negative to a positive. The food tasted good but it was work,the food tasted good but it put on weight, the food tasted good but there was an easier way to feed the family. The negative took over and won. Instead of finding reasons to cook, I gravitated to the reasons not to. Without warning it happened and it stopped being what it used to be pleasurable, joyous, fun. The purpose still existed, but it was all too serious now.

Acknowledging all the things we experience in our lives are NOT going to bring a smile to our face or a sense of joy in our heart, but some of those the things that can should. Otherwise, they just become yet another task.

Bon Anniversaire

First let me  say, I do not speak French. I wish I did, I wish I spoke another language along with English. This post is for my friend “Samantha” :0) I wanted to post this yesterday, because that was actually her birthday. Life interrupted that plan.

Whatever your age, if you are fortunate, you have celebrated a birthday and are still around to talk about it. Some birthdays are great more than you can hope for permanently carved in your memory forever. Others go but as uneventful 24 hour periods. In general most of us have more of the latter. Yet, each year we are filled with expectation and anticipation, whether we admit to it or not.

Landmark birthdays; the 1st one for obvious reasons,  the 12 and/or 13th transitioning the child to the teen years, “sweet 16” truly a girl thing and rather archaic in today’s world, 18 and 21 the cross over point to  respective legal rights. The ones that follow while equally significant, are reminders that we are THANKFULLY getting older. I say thankfully because celebrating another year, being able to complain about more gray hair and wrinkles, beats the hell out of the option.

I  am an autumn baby, I love this time of year. I must confess that as much as I love this time of year, “Sammie” and I shared a text chuckle about how jacked up our birth month usually is for the both of us. It made me feel connected and it made me feel good that I was not the only one who felt happy they had seen another birthday, but couldn’t wait for the month it is celebrated in was gone.

Anticipation, expectation every thing that goes wrong is magnified with the unconscious thought, “and of all days/months this one”. This one being the magical, glorious day/month of your birth. How can that be? I’ll tell you, we are delusional. I know I was/am. For years as a working individual I would make it my business NOT to work on my birthday.why because it was my birthday. You don’t work on your birthday, but if you go back to the actual day your were born on… it was probably a laborious one, Cesarian or natural.

My point is the days we face come as they may, are equally good or bad no matter when they occur. Do they culminate on “our” day… maybe, but that has more to do with our state of mind than what actually is happening. So I say, CELEBRATE absolutely,  but take some of that same joy with you everyday and thank the Almighty that He has allowed you to see, yet another day.

Happy Birthday, “Sammie”! I hope it was… well know what I hope.

Up Popped “Happy”

It is true about the state of being happy. Smile and the world smiles with you… Laughter is contagious

As silly as it may sound and seem, I wanted to be angry. I had been damaged and no one could truly appreciate what I was going through. This was a bad day and there seemed to be no end in sight. Each demonstration of concern only made me sink deeper and deeper into my personal “hell”. I felt dark and my writing was dark as well. I thought “No one will want to read this s%$@!” I completely understood why so I refrained from writing.

On my way to do yet another daunting task, another nail in the coffin, one more testimony to my hard-knock-life I came upon my neighbor as he was walking his wonderful little West Highland Terrier(my all time favorite dog).  I was going to wave and keep on driving, but some strange force made me roll my window down in order for me to actually speak. After the ritual “hellos” he asked about my spouse and as the adage goes, “It not what you say, but the way you say it…” well that says it all.

As I talked briefly with this concerned neighbor, I laughed to myself as I recalled how terribly upset these two men were with each other behind a difference in political views not so very long ago. Yet, there was a display of genuine concern and it was consistently ongoing. Each time he saw me and we talked, the concern was there. It just took a different form this evening, this evening there was something in his voice and mannerism that was a tap on the shoulder for me. They obviously had found some happy medium amongst themselves and now when one of  them was down the other felt a sense of loss. The human spirit is amazing. All I had been thinking/ could think of was how terrible things were for me, but in an instant light shone forth, I found a little happy.  The smile stayed with me as I drove out of our sub-division. I noticed what a clear beautiful summer evening we were having. Conscious overtook me and tried to shake me with,” Hey don’t you see what is happening here, you’re forgetting all about your worries”.

However,  this was so good to me I fought off the reality check and wallowed in the happy feeling just a bit longer. I had what I was searching for; a place to rest those rambling, hostile thoughts which ran interference for sadness and a feeling of hopelessness. Now the problems did not disappear, they did not even get smaller what happened in those few moments was there was realization that I will get through this.

What about it folks, did you get what happened here? The Lord never promised us life would be easy, but He said He would never leave us alone. I could have never imagined, would have never thought that my renewed strength would come in the form of a simply neighborly conversation, that I was almost successful in avoiding. I had no idea how,when, or even if things would get better for me in even the slightest way.  But God did.

Keep This To Yourself

On a gray, cloudy Georgia morning I am feeling about the way it looks outside. This is not unusual, people’s moods often are reflective of their surroundings. Yet during this quiet time I have a chance to think back over some events.

There was a game show once upon  time called “I’ve Gotta Secret”, the object of this game was to guess the contestant’s “secret”: something that is unusual, amazing, embarrassing, or humorous about that person. The show ran from the early 1950’s through 2006 sporadically. It was entertaining and funny to watch. The reason I mention it is because of the irony attached to “secrets”.

By definition in it’s perfect form a secret is something done WITHOUT the knowledge of OTHERS. As always open to different interpretations, the secret has “metamorphosised” into whatever anyone wants at any given time. However, the revealing of anything that is remotely associated with the word secret brings the same response and result.

We all have secrets; but the reality of it is we all generally share secrets, whether they are ours or someone else’s. The word sounds so good, so important, so forbidden and who does not want to be in on something that allows you to feel special, privileged among a unique group?  Not saying these secrets are all bad, but their existence cannot be denied and their revealing can bring about some negative response or reaction if just for the fact they are revealed. Now you have to address betrayal, but who is the one who ultimately betrays. Is it the person you told, who did in fact tell or is the culprit you?

In our society where social media reigns supreme we cannot hope to or even suggest private thoughts when we plaster everything all over our “walls”. Therefore, closing I want to say something that you do not have to “keep to yourself”. Stop wasting your time on negative thoughts.

What’s In A Name?

The first thing that identifies you, how you connect and recognize the persons in your life. Do you like your name do you know what it’s origin is, do you know how it came to be yours? Have you ever asked yourself, what does it all mean?

I never liked my name. Growing up I was teased about my name. Throughout school year after school year I had the familiar rhyming song ringing in my head. I longed to have the pretty, simple, common names the other girls had. I believe I was an entirely too serious child, for if I had not been I would have shaken off the teasing. I would not have internalized the hurt I felt, but I did. The crazy thing is one morning not so long ago I realized the silly little song should not have hurt my feelings so badly, I should have not just ignored what was being said for it clearly had no basis in fact.  I should have asked the question that changed the way I felt about my name and even if I was not able to explain it in a manner that would stop you in your tracks, I would have possessed the confidence that would not have allowed the hurt to penetrate. I even had to laugh at myself for allowing that song to shape the way I approached so many things.

Given the horror(I am being facetious) that was synonymous with my name. When I really examined it the worse thing about it was that it was a name that could be considered “old”. Nothing could be worse than to be a young girl with an old woman’s name and a name that a rhyme could be associated with…. I lived out my school years carrying that name. My family and people who were close to me only knew me by that name. One day after a particularly  difficult experience I told my father I was going to change my name as soon as I was old enough. I hated my name so, I asked him who had named me and why?

Years later I wanted to make sure I did not give my children names that would allow them to be made fun of or have names that made them feel bad for any reason.  Living through eras where children were named for fruit, planets and combinations of words that the very folks who name them cannot explain and/or oftentimes spell. I could never forget what I had gone through for all those years.  Yet, I know everyone does not hate their name. Some people are actually happy with the name that says”This is who I am”. I wanted to caution the child-bearing individuals about the label they attach to their little ones. Stop yourselves and think it through. In present times we are able to know what the sex of our children will be long before they arrive. Therefore give yourself all of that time to work on and work through what you want the world to think of when they hear your precious baby’s name and the reason you gave them that particular name.

Presentation can truly make a difference. My name, the name that I could only associate with being old, the name that allowed my classmates to  create a mindless rhyme that haunted me all through school, the name I WAS going to change, was given to me by a man I had nothing but love and respect for, MY FATHER. My name was from biblical times and described a fragrant beautiful flowering tree. It was s said to be held sacred to Venus, an emblem of love. My father named me for three ladies he had nothing but respect and admiration for. It was his way of saying to them, this is my precious baby who I love with all of my heart and there is nothing that would give me more joy than for her to bear your name and follow in your footsteps. I never changed my name as I told him I would when I was old enough.

When you name your children I hope you are able to tell them something as wonderful as my story about their names. Tell them early in their lives and tell them often so they never forget.

Ooooooh Weeeee Moments

Angrily, I left the grocery store. I am at wits end. There is so much built-up inside of me I could burst. I am feeling a little sorry for myself, the self-proclaimed martyr, when I look up and see one of the grocery checkers riding one of the shopping carts to the resting spot, so he could collect them and return them to the inside of the store. I could not take my eyes off of him, and I smiled. The only thing missing from this scene was the sound that was undoubtedly being silenced with extraordinary control. OOOOH WEEEEE! The night was a bit cool, way unusual for June in Georgia. The lights of the parking lot gave off a fluorescent blue hue to all of the cars and it was quiet, not silent for there were sounds of the road above the lot and faint voices. I took a deep breath and still smiling I went to my car.

Every-so-often we all need a shopping cart ride or to spin around in a circle, to remind us that one of the wonders of life is that it doesn’t always take something monumental to make us feel good, but feeling good is monumental.

Can We Connect

40 years flew passed me today. I found a couple of friends from my childhood. Wonderful Social Media. Much like you cannot go home, revisiting people who were in your life can be a difficult road to travel.

I was so excited to find them, but it seemed my enthusiasm was not shared. The connection was accepted but beyond that…. well it remained to be seen.

I have an idea of what should happen when we connect with folks, or how about this, what I/we think should happen. Suddenly, I realized that what this was really about. ME. Yes, once again I had taken a situation and turned it into a personal opportunity to illuminate myself. As noted, the statement was “once again”. This is obviously a reoccurring issue with me and it got me thinking.

I thought about the way people in the “limelight” sometimes have a problem with returning to a normal life. A life where no one recognizes them, a life where thousands of fans aren’t screaming for them. Is it possible that we as everyday people long for the “limelight” of our worlds as well?

My mother told me over the years how my favorite aunt (who was actually her aunt) said when I was a small child(less than 4) that I was going to be an entertainer, because I loved to talk. What did Aunt Sis see? What  gave her insight to a  person that I often deny, that many would question the very existence of? Yet, she is there and the more I ignore her, the more she does things whether they are good or bad to bring the “limelight” to her. She does not give up or give in. She has put me in some bad positions over the years, because I have not paid attention to her. You might ask how could you live with someone for so long and not acknowledge or even recognize  them. I don’t have a logical answer, but I do know it is the case with me.

Now that I have seen and realize the “scene stealer” is in me; I can return to a couple of places I recently visited and possibly avoid my seemingly favorite spot, “foot-in-mouth” haven. My connecting with the old friends now comes with the realization these friends, were in fact closer to my sibling so many years ago. Ah yes “I” was not the focal point. Therefore, just because I found them is secondary to “their ” reconnection with their true friend. I needed to be able to see this as not being an oversight or being slighted, but this “I” was an addition. Life is funny, the simplest concepts sometimes still manage to escape us.

XI-haftakingabreak

Rites of Passage and Milestones; I thought reaching the century mark would be massive for me on my blog. It was an accomplishment, but then I seemed to feel like I needed to give my blog more time. I was working on the book and just working period. There really were not enough hours in the day for me to accomplish anything. As I kept active with the blog, days and weeks passed without me even looking at the book. I had a target date in mind and I certainly could not get to that point without dedicating some of my time to my book. I think my readers can relate. Often times we have to stop and back away from a thing in order to get a good look at what is needed, and what comes next.

Thus, I am starting my break. There are a few things for folks to read or read again until I make a little progress on the book. I would love to have 125 pages written in the book, when I return. That is small in itself, but with 125 blogs done the number seems tangible.

I am feeling lost and apprehensive. I am abandoning that which was familiar to me and it is very difficult. My goal now established, I must venture out and move toward that goal. Time and time management is very important here, I am still “counting” and I will be back. Hopefully with more insight, more accomplished, and more focused. After all, I am only half-way-there.

Patient’s Patience

To all of the “Angel’s of Mercy”out there, I salute you. There are no others like you upon this Earth.

All of us will be relegated to the spot of patient at some point in time. It is what you demonstrate while you are in that status that counts. A difficult place to be in; sick, tired, in pain. You feel alone, no one understands what you feel. There is the vulnerability and need. As time goes on anger and resentment sets in. These are all understandable, but do you get a free pass? Is it okay to treat the folks who are around you, the folks trying to help and comfort you, badly. I understand that you may not or are very likely NOT aware of what you are doing, but trust me when someone says it to you, it is true.

When you are not a medical professional, you are handicapped in your attempts to help someone who is suffering. Some people are grateful to have someone willing to try to help. Then there are the others who, unwittingly, make it painfully obvious that their would be helpers are inept. This serves little purpose, for you need help and a bad attitude will oftentimes leave you without assistance or with a begrudging helper.

In your pain and illness do not allow yourself to believe that in order for one to be understanding, sympathetic, or helpful they MUST be lying in the bed with you experiencing what you are currently going through with the same degree or exactness as you. You take away the desire to try to help, and possibly leave yourself in the very spot you want to avoid. Two people in the exact same place will see and hear very different things. In having that understanding, patient I beseech you to employ YOUR patience.

As with most everything attitude is everything. It helps the patient in the healing process, it helps the caregiver with a sense of appreciation which motivates. Motivation that is essential for all parties to continue on.

Think of that nurse, who was particularly kind to you, when you were hurting and not so very easy to get along with. Realize she or he was “just doing their job” when they helped you through a rough pain episode. Process in your mind these are trained professionals who absolutely selected this spot they are in, because they felt a little something more than the monetary gain. Think of how very special these nurses are. Then think about the person you have at your disposal. They may not be equipped with a degree, they may not have the intricate medical training, but they are armed with the desire to help. Compassion; don’t run or push them away because you as a patient, cannot draw on a bit of understanding and patience yourself.

Post Navigation