Total Pageviews

Friday, January 24, 2020

Words Matter


We must be careful with our words, and we also must listen carefully when others speak or write information down.  How many times do we misunderstand something we hear or read, our imagination running away with the ideas we think are being expressed?  Miscommunication can lead to unnecessary stress and anxiety as we anticipate problems and invent scenarios that may come from our interpretation of what has been said.
If ever there were words that terrified me, aggressive calf stretching would be at the top of the list, even higher than your bank account is overdrawn, or your car needs thousands of dollars’ worth of repairs. Recently I visited an orthopedist for foot and ankle pain, and he sent me for physical therapy.  On the orders for the therapy he wrote “aggressive calf stretching”.  It sounds like an event in the farmers’ Olympics, if there were such a thing, and in general sounds painful.  It turned out that it wasn’t as painful as it sounded, and when I commented on how terrifying I thought it would be the physical therapist laughed and said she wished the doctor would stop writing that, because she knows what he wants and it worries some of the patients when they read those words. The physical therapy worked, and I am able to once again move freely and relatively pain free.  I also recently had a spot of skin cancer removed from the top of my scalp.  Now those are some frightening words: skin cancer. The day I went for the procedure, I sat on the exam table in the doctor’s office, while the nurse got things ready and explained what would happen and the aftercare.  She told me that the doctor would inject my scalp with several needles of Novocain; the prospect of needles being stuck into my scalp made me anxious, as I have had dental work done and hate the injections into the gums to numb the area they will work on. I imagined how painful the coming injections would be, and wished I could just leave. She told me, as well, that because it was on the top of my head, they were going to have to mummify me when the procedure was finished. Well, as if the prospect of having needles in my head wasn’t scary enough, the word “mummify” was more concerning! I had visions of my head being wrapped up in gauze bandages, unable to move my jaws to eat, drink, or talk. I asked her to please explain the mummification, and it turns out that to keep a bandage in place in that area they wrap strips of gauze under the chin and over the top of the head, and it should be kept on for 24 hours.  I was only slightly less fearful after that! As it turned out, the numbing process wasn’t so bad, and the gauze was only wrapped around my head until they looked at the tissue under a slide and determined that they had successfully removed all the cancerous tissue, then the doctor placed the stitches and I was free to leave without looking like a mummy. 
It’s easy to understand how words can make us anxious or fearful of what’s to come. We tend to imagine the worst scenarios when it comes to the unknown.  It is, perhaps, a self- preservation technique we humans have so that we can protect ourselves from harm, and are relieved when things turn out better or easier than anticipated.  We prepare for the worst, and hope for the best, and then when all is said and done we can breathe a little easier and laugh at ourselves for being so worried.

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Another New Year

One year ends
And one begins
They blend one
Into the other
I wish for all
Family and friends
More time
To be together
To love and laugh
And dance and cry
Sharing times
Both good and bad
To hug and talk
Support, protect
May this year
Be full of
Love.

Here we are starting a new year. Maybe  a new decade, but apparently there is some question as to whether the new decade starts with the year ending in “zero,”, or the year ending in “one”. I learned this on the third hour of a national news show this morning. I guess everything is up for debate these days and I have a feeling that we will continue to debate everything in the new year. I find it annoying and amusing by turns, depending on the subject, and to some extent my mood. We had the blue dress/white dress debate, and the “yannie/laurel” debate, and of course all the political crap with which we are constantly battered if we do anything besides sit alone at home in silence. Seems like that’s just the way we humans are programmed.

One thing I think we all can agree on is that we need other people. Whether it is those we are related to by blood, or those we have grown to love as family, we are better off having people close to us to share our lives with. When we laugh and cry together, celebrate and mourn together, life has a better quality. It gives us a richness to each event, and gives us a different perspective to consider; a sense of being understood, seen, belonging. It’s amazing how much better we feel after a hug in stressful times, or how a shared happy dance when a goal is met makes us feel delirious with pleasure. Togetherness is priceless. Family and friends are priceless.  Even those brief connections with random strangers are without equal.

For the new year, I wish for more connection with others for all of us.

Tuesday, December 24, 2019

Misfits

Do you ever feel like you’re living on the Island of Misfit Toys from the Rudolph the Red Nosed  Reindeer Christmas movie?  I feel that way sometimes. It’s a feeling of being out of step with the rest of the world. When those around are calm and steady, and I’m in a tizzy, rushing and panicking, my mind whirling with worries and a to do list impossibly long, I’m not feeling like I’m in the right place. But what if on the outside I look calm like everyone else does? What if each of those other calm appearing people feel on the inside as panicked and worried as I do?

I think we all feel a little bit like those misfit toys on the island. We feel like we don’t have anything that is wanted, like our unique talents are unappreciated and somehow unacceptable to the world at large. From the boat that doesn’t float, to the doll that says “How do you do?” instead of “Mama”, to the Charley in a box, all are unique, and wonderful, but they don’t see it. Worse than that, is that they don’t think anyone sees it. Then Rudolph arrives, feeling like such a misfit that he doesn’t even stay on the island, fearing his difference will bring danger to his friends. He vows to tell Santa about the island and find homes for the toys on Christmas Eve. In the end, Rudolph learns to use his uniqueness, and others see it as a gift. He keeps his promise and leads Santa to the island and around the world to drop off all the toys to children who will love them. It’s a happy ending for the Misfits.  So how can I find a happy ending? There is no Rudolph and Santa coming to save me, but what if I start to believe my unique qualities make me fit in? What if I realize that everyone, no matter how accomplished they are perceived to be, feels a little bit like a misfit?  Then I feel like I fit in, and so will you.

Greetings from the Island of Misfits! We welcome you and your beautiful, wonderful uniqueness that makes you who you are. We’re glad you are here. Remember that.

Tuesday, November 12, 2019

Detours


     For most of the summer and early fall I ran into detours almost everywhere I went.  Between gas lines being put in throughout town and state paving projects, there were days when my 7 minute commute to work turned into a 30 minute exploration of all the back roads in the area.  I tried following the detour arrows, but I managed to get lost in my own town trying to get home.  The arrows just stopped, and drivers were left to guess which way to turn.  I don’t think there was any coordination between construction crews because how can they possibly have meant to have construction going on within the detour area resulting in another detour from the detour?  It was confusing and frustrating, and I didn’t like it.  Thank goodness it seems to be over for now!

     I guess that if we want roads kept in good shape, and we want modern conveniences available in our town, then we have to expect detours.  I took a detour from writing for the past few months, and am slowly getting back to it.  All summer I read books, mysteries, novels, thrillers, and I couldn’t read them fast enough.  I very much enjoyed giving my brain a chance to enter fictional lives and get a break from the everyday. Sometimes we have to detour from our regular lives in order to move forward and keep our minds running smoothly. Although, in all honesty, I’m not sure how smoothly mine’s running since it’s generally filled with an overwhelming amount of thoughts and worries.  Trying not to worry is like trying to keep ocean waves off the beach.  Thoughts just keep coming, receding, and another is right behind it. Giving free rein to the myriad of concerns occupying your brain runs the risk of getting stuck in that vicious cycle which doesn’t solve anything and exhausts you. It’s a detour all its own which takes you away from living a happy and fulfilling life, and being present in your life.  It’s like the detour within a detour I experienced that one day on the way home from work, and you get lost in your own life and don’t recognize where you are. So, every now and then it’s good to disconnect from the everyday and lose yourself in something, whether it’s books, movies, taking a trip, or some other activity you don’t usually participate in. Anything you can do to give yourself a break from stress is a good thing.

     Allowing yourself to lose sight of your troubles and concerns for even a short amount of time regularly is a good thing to do.  Finding time to do this daily can be challenging, but is well worth striving to achieve for good mental health. So go ahead, take a little detour before you find yourself lost in your own life.


Thursday, October 31, 2019

House On The Hill

After taking a few months off of blog writing, I offer this story in poetic form.

There’s a house on the hill in the town where I lived
All the kids knew the story, felt the fright it would give
As they walked past the gate on the way home from school
Don’t stand still and stare was the unspoken rule
If you walked by at night, you had better go fast
Or you risked being witness to the ghost of the past.
There’s a woman who glided the grounds in the night
In a flowing long gown, all gauzy and white
She wept with a sound carried along on the wind
She muttered about all the ways she had sinned
If you tarried a bit to catch a glimpse, or to listen
You just better hope not to hear sudden hissing
Or voices that come from the dark of the night
Shouting loud whispers from left and from right,
The voices of men who one night long ago
Searched for the woman, searched, high and searched low
At long last they found the young bride who had run
Who refused to be wed at the end of a gun
The groom was a man, with evil intent
And demanded the girl in lieu of the rent,
Her father, a man both drunk and poor
Couldn’t refuse the  demand at his door
So he gave up his daughter to the man with the gun
Never believing that she would at once run
The mad groom ran fast, caught the girl in a flash
And carried her off,  in a secret place her he stashed
The townsmen came searching the house on the hill
Praying to find unharmed the poor girl
But in spite of the thoroughness of the long search
At last they all gathered in the pews of the church
Where the townswomen sat, each of them praying
For the soul of the girl who in coffin now laying
Was then buried there in the churchyard outside
Where her sad father sat on the ground as he cried
“It is my bad fortune my daughter has died”.
Her restless soul walks o’er the grounds of the house
Where the evil man took her to make her his spouse
He killed her that night when him she deserted
Then left the town ‘fore they discovered the murder
So she roams ‘bout the grounds of the house where she died
The ghost of the hauntingly beautiful bride.
If you go to the town with the house on the hill,
Stay away from the place where the young bride was killed.