thatdamn.blog

I still use a daily planner. Anybody else? Yes, I use my Google calendar with notifications. But having the entire week laid out on my desk helps this ADD brain.

Also, the paper is lovely, and I get to use markers and stickers. No glitter. It hurts the dolphins. Anyway…

I have a proclivity for overscheduling. You understand.                                                           Today I will clean out three flower gardens, prepare the garage for winter, bake a delectable dessert with those apples that are getting soft AND complete my teaching tasks.   Seems reasonable.

Realistic planning is part of the mindfulness I am embracing. What is necessary and/or important in the next 16 hours?                                                                                                            Scheduling is important to keep me on task. But am I drawn away by what others think I “should” do? Can I prevent a bubble of regret – shoulda/woulda/coulda and how things might have been different? Is there time to simply BE?

What shakes up your schedule? Do you get lost looking back? Maybe you are a worrier. Maybe some of your precious hours are stolen by fear of what might happen today, tomorrow, EVER. Maybe?

Truman and I were walking in the yard this morning – he was sniffing the ground while I was enjoying the crisp air and beautiful sky, thinking about the day ahead. The glorious array of stars interrupted. I took this picture and was reminded me that tomorrow morning the sky will be a bit different because of the Earth’s axis and rotation around the sun – and I have no part in that.                    

For 22,991 nights my breathing and heartbeat have continued while I slept – without my help. 3284 weeks have passed since my arrival and, contrary to the regrets I hold, my life is better every day. Truly.

I am here for a reason. So are you. This day has purpose beyond what the planner says. Look for JOY. Allow yourself to be surprised.

Sound trite? Maybe, but trite ≠ untrue.

Roll this around in your head. Let me know what you think.

We will talk soon.

BP

Yesterday the ground was covered with snow. The flowers and buds looked frozen. Hopeless.

But this morning?

Restoration.

Below freezing earlier, still only 44…but look at these hyacinths!!

They are fuller and brighter today than they were on Monday!!

Restoration.

So many times my life has seemed hopeless. I was angry, despairing, frozen. I screamed at the flowers in my life to BLOOM dammit. I stomped and cried.

I made mistakes. Treated people poorly. Treated myself worse.

But here I am… fuller and more brightly colored by the day.

God continues to help uncover my authentic self, all the things I knew but couldn’t reach or feel or share.

Restoration.

Stay tuned for the story of a long and winding road.

It can be your story, as well.

We will talk again soon,

BP

Has this happened to you…two vehicles collide and you are one of three witnessest. The police officer asks what happened, and each of you has a slightly different story.

Or you are talking to a friend about a movie both of you watched, but when you discuss the main points, it seems like two different movies.

The human brain has 100 billion neurons and experiences up to 640 trillion electrical pulses every second. More sophisticated than any machine made by humans.

The prompt for Day 4 of the #HopeWriterLife Challenge is REMEMBER. What a tremendous testament to our brains when a group of writers is given the same word and come out with hundreds of interpretations. Funny…part of why our perspective on REMEMBER varies is because of the WAY we remember.

While scientists admit we know only a portion of the intricate way the brain functions, there has been significant insight into the memory part of our brains. Briefly – encoding puts the information in, storage is how we retain it, retrieval is how it comes out.

Before you think this is a biology term paper, hang with me. Physiology, neurology, brain-ology are all fascinating to me. But when we chat this way, my hope is to open some doors to understanding ourselves and each other, emotionally, spiritually, and relationally.

It is important to be mindful of the fact that what each of us stores and retrieves is based on our perspective, on prior experience, on what we value. You may remember the exact outfit Grandma was wearing at an event but nothing she said. I may remember just the opposite. Maybe you are more visual and I am more auditory. Maybe you were taught to value looks above all. Or maybe you have experienced verbal abuse that keeps you from storing away anyone’s words.

I am currently reading the book in the picture. It is eye-opening and confronting. The body does, indeed, hold the score of every trauma each of us has endured. Every unprocessed trauma changes the brain, subsequently changing the entire physical and mental being as well. Not for a day. Not a short-term change. Each of us reacts/responds through the filter life has created.  That can be great news if we embrace it and use it.

As more information is uncovered about the brain, the mind, and the connection between those two and the body, perhaps we can more fully understand that even a one-word prompt such as REMEMBER can stir as much heartache in one person as it does joy in another.

Perhaps we can become more aware of the ways trauma has affected us. Because it has. Without question.

Perhaps we can learn to hold our peace when someone tells a story we also lived in a way we didn’t experience. When they remember differently.

Memory retrieval can be a double-edged sword. Perhaps we can REMEMBER that and learn to offer more grace and mercy, just as we have received.

We will talk again tomorrow.

BP

I made egg salad today. Had a couple bites at lunch. Last week at a picnic, I ate a deviled egg.

Doesn’t seem newsworthy, does it? But it is when you know how often I have turned my nose up at egg salad, how many times I have declined a deviled egg. That would be every time.

For as long as I can remember, I have said I do not like egg salad/deviled eggs. Yes, I like hard-boiled eggs. Yes, I like mayonnaise. But mixed? I would not, could not on a boat or with a goat or in a box or with a fox.

Last summer, in a moment of wild abandon, I ate a deviled egg. Didn’t die. Then I MADE and ATE egg salad. Not only did I not die, I actually enjoyed it. HMMMPPHHH…

The story to which I have clung for decades is untrue.

Is it only the story about egg salad that I have falsely believed?

How about you?

I boldly suggest that any story which starts, “I will never…” or “I will always…” is likely a false narrative.Any story that contradicts me (and you) being created in the image of God, fearfully and wonderfully made, loved and fully known and accepted by the Creator of this whole wide universe from the dawn of time is a lie. Any story that leans on family history or how things should or shouldn’t be or how your dreams are impossible is misleading.

The story to which I have clung for decades is untrue.

So much to unpack there. So much opportunity to uncover the hidden story, the authentic story, the wonderful story.

But first, think about this…

The story to which I have clung for decades is untrue.

We will talk again tomorrow.

BP

Day 2 of the #Hopewriterlife challenge. The word is “Refresh.”

It feels as if refresh is overused and diminished.

For example, here is a sample of products listed in a “refreshing your life” internet article: cucumber face peel, mold/mildew gel, fruit-infusing water bottle, nesting plastic food containers, Ponds’ cold cream, watermelon juice moisturizer, a tongue scraper.

Want to refreshed? There you go. So many options.

Not helpful for today’s prompt which asks how I can refresh myself and my writing life.

Honestly, my life is blessed and full. The need to “refresh” does not resonate with me, but “rejuvenate” does. There are certainly days I need new or different energy. Walking a new trail, a day trip to take photos, the dogs urging (and urging and urging) me to get away from my desk to walk barefooted in the grass and throw them a ball. I mean, they are in bare feet so why not join them.

It is interesting how often I specifically avoid things I know will provide a boost. How about you? No time, right? That’s my go-to excuse. Lame and illogical given the benefits of a short period of rejuvenation.

Refresh IS quite appropriate for my writing life. Restore strength, renew, stimulate – all fit. But I like “revivify” better. I am not ashamed to use a thesaurus.

Say it aloud. RE-VIV-I-FY. Fun, right? It sounds energetic and alive, doesn’t it!

I shared yesterday that comparison often silences my writing voice. Here is the full truth: I only think about how others hear my voice because I do not have an abiding love for and trust in it myself.

Yes? Amen? Does it remind you of something in your life? Does it hit a nerve because you know there is something you should be doing that would give life to others?

That thing for me is writing. I have an effective voice and a powerful story. Allowing fear to stop me is dishonoring to the gift. Same for you. Truly.

Look at the picture in this post. That sweet, vibrant 6-year-old. Face to the sun. Toothy, quirky smile. Several years ago, my therapist suggested finding a favorite picture and displaying it as a reminder of the child who had no doubts, who was still self-assured.

Sometimes I glance at this face, sometimes I study it. Always I want to embody it.

The spirit of that kid is being revivified, and with it, my writing life. There are many reasons for that. Stick around and you will hear about them. And maybe you will find some of your own reasons for renewal.

For today, be encouraged. It is never too late, and you are never too old, to be refreshed.

Face to the sun. Revitalizing your passion.

Revivify. Let’s talk more about it.

See you tomorrow.BP

Remember the first time you heard a recorded version of your own voice? Remember being startled and thinking, “That is NOT what I sound like!”

There is a physiological explanation for our voices sounding higher and thinner than we hear them. It involves air conduction versus bone conduction. Look it up if you are interested.

The point is everyone experiences that. Everyone. You. Me. Adele. James Earl Jones. No exceptions.

On this first day of a new #Hopewriterlife Challenge, one of the prompts is, “Sharing my voice feels like…”

The BLINK answer is the same for my singing voice and writing voice. Sharing it feels life-giving, like freedom, like I am tapping into the absolute real-est part of who God made me to be. That voice is born of and shares my growth, my journey, my heart for being like Jesus, all with the intention of encouraging others. Blessing others the way I have been blessed.

Getting in the groove with a song or a piece of writing is a joy that is bigger than words. It’s like holding a baby I love, feeling the ocean for the first time in a while, hitting a great golf shot, vividly seeing my grandma’s face in front of me for a split second, sleeping with a dog’s head on my shoulder, hearing the voice of one of my favorite people calling my name.

You understand. You have your own bigger-than-words feelings.

So why don’t I share more often?

That’s easy…comparison. Yep, still pushing that away. How about you?

Silly that comparison and concern over judgement keeps my voice stifled, isn’t it? THINKING keeps me from DOING.

Have you been there?

Today, I am reminding myself that my voices are mine. My singing voice is not like my friend’s. It was never meant to be…and she uses hers more often.

My writing voice is mine alone, shaped by every day, every event, every choice made by me or that affected me. No one else has my voice.

My favorite singers are quite diverse. Same with favorite authors. I do not compare their voices to each other. I don’t know if Adele compares herself to others, but that would be crazy.

So, today I am reminding myself about the futility and waste in comparison.

And I am reminding you, because maybe you compare too. Yeah, you do.

We will talk again tomorrow.

BP

There was a family-owned market near our home when I was growing up. Because competition has always spurred me, Mom goaded (tricked) me into going to Mintz’s by promising to time me.

I would race half way around the block to the store, buy the items, then race home. HOW LONG DID IT TAKE?? 6:31. Well, I was in the store for 3:25 so 3:06!! A new PR.*

In high school track, I ran sprints and hurdles, and I enjoyed running on a basketball court or softball field. But I was a reluctant distance runner. Still am. Running a few miles and ending up where I started? Not my thing.

 My cousin, Val, was an outstanding distance runner in high school and continues to be, as evidenced by completion of many road races and half marathons. Crazy lady even runs the few miles to work sometimes.

Val has finished the Pittsburgh Half Marathon in the elite group for her age several times. But this year her Pittsburgh Marathon quest is different.  Val and her friends, Crystal and Dixie, have a mission to complete a FULL marathon, and in the process raise $10,000 for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

In my mind, they are heroines for two reasons.

They are hospital RNs. I have had enough experience with family members being hospitalized to know that nurses are the heartbeat of any hospital. These three women save lives as a vocation. Now they are using their free time and energy to save lives in a different way.

Do you know that suicide is the second leading cause of death for people ages 10-34 in the US?               Do you know that, on average, 1 person dies by suicide every 11 minutes in the US making it our 10^th leading cause of death?                                                                                                                                              Do you know that 10.5% of adults in the US 18-25 years old have serious suicidal thoughts?

Sobering, isn’t it?

Yet, we are hesitant to talk about menatl health needs. The topic is distasteful to many people. Still. In 2020.

Securing appropriate, covered mental health care in our country is difficult, at best. Try doing that when you are severely depressed or having suicidal thoughts.

If you haven’t been there, you can’t imagine it.

Or maybe you can, but you have never shared that with anyone. Maybe you have never put words to your need for some help with mental issues.

Maybe, like me, you have heard people belittling mental health issues or alluding to depression being a weakness or a character deficiency.

HEAR THIS – seeking a professional to help reroute some crossed brain wires is no different than seeking an orthopedic surgeon to fix a joint issue or a cardiologist to fix a heart problem.

It is NO different. It is not shameful or weak.

For years, I have been guarded about this topic because of the societal image.                                                             No more. It is an unnecessary “secret” and there is negligence in not being honest.

My heart aches for every person who is missing a loved one due to suicide. My heart burns when I hear people who are ashamed to admit a loved one took his/her own life, as if it reflects badly on the family.

Silence and shame help no one. I will not accept that from myself any longer.

Val and Dixie are proudly supporting Crystal, who lost her daughter, Hope, to suicide in 2014. They are lifting Crystal and raising money to help prevent others from carrying the same pain Crystal feels.

The Pittsburgh Marathon will be a virtual run this year. Val, Dixie, and Crystal will be completing their marathon on April 26, minus the amenities normally provided to make the distance more bearable. There will be no cheering crowds along the course, no refreshments, no glorious finish line to cross.

But Hope will be cheering every step.

26.2 miles seems like an excruciating distance to run.                                                                                                            It is nothing compared to the path Hope’s loved ones will travel until they see her beautiful face again.

Go here if you want to read more about Val, Dixie, and Crystal:

http://afsp.donordrive.com/participant/2274719

We will talk again soon,

BP

*I was in my 30’s before it occurred to me that Mom never really timed my trips to the store. Yes, I DID ask her. She just laughed and shook her head.