Paying Attention to the Positives

Yesterday was one of those days that felt like I just couldn't lift myself out of the doldrums.  It seemed like everything was gray . . and might stay that way forever.  On those kinds of days, I forget about all of those things that are beautiful in the world . . and how lucky I am to be healthy and active . . to be loved and have the capacity to share love. . . and to be happy for the gifts in life that lift me up and nudge me forward.

These past few weeks I have been really thinking about resilience . . leading me to wonder if there are specific things we can do to promote more positive energy in our life.  How do we find gratitude, contentment and joy when it seems as if we are sitting in Job's lot?  

My friend, Patty, suggested the book, One Thousand Gifts (Ann Voskamp) . . and so as I searched the web for a preview, I found her website, too . . a comforting and reflective resource that reminds us to "write them down" . .or to keep track somehow of those amazing gifts in life that are all around us if we just pay attention. 

 And so, I've been on a mission to pay more attention to the positives in life . . even as I struggle to distance myself from the clouds of worry that can occasionally try to sneak in around me.  

Today,as I was listening to Michele Tugade, PhD speak about her research studying resilience I am reminded again to pay attention to those subtle things in life that are positive and beautiful . . like the pure sweet voice of my granddaughter who sings Somewhere Over the Rainbow in perfect pitch . . watching the baby dolphin who playfully splashes near the water's edge . . seeing the male and female bald eagles dancing in paired flight above me  . . . and delightfully nibbling on chocolate covered peanuts as I write :)

What are the positives in your life?  There are so many . . can we, too, practice the art of seeing the thousands?  As always (even when you think I am not here) . . I am listening . . 

The Challenges of Change

Why is it that change is so hard? Recently I've been working on the steps of change . . questioning the relationship between what we know and what we do (or do not do as it seems in so many cases). What is it about our personality that allows us to adapt to change . . or to fight it tooth and nail? Is it the situation . . or our age . . or the height or depth of the circumstances?

As one who studies the thoughts and feelings of women in context, I am always perplexed by our ability to resist change even when we "know" that life is dynamic and that growth demands flexibility. But most of us are so resistant . . and even when we do internalize the need to re-chart our course, we are such self-saboteurs . . hopelessly and seemingly helplessly clinging to old, outworn habits.

It is so difficult to work our way through the steps of change at the deepest level so that we can actually "wear" our new identity with a smile and a lighter step. Change requires that we re-focus our energies . . and most of us want that . . .but desire does not seem to make a dent past my first or second day (when I want to throw up my hands and cry for mercy or pity . . oh god, not that disheartening emotion again:(

So what is it in our personality that allows us to meet the challenge . . or even allows us to realistically recognize and evaluate the challeges? Age, support, belief in the possibility for our own success? A calendar? A check-in with someone else (a constructive mirror)?

As always, I'm listening . . .

Sounds of Love

This week (well actually the past few weeks) I've been struggling with my vision . . the retinitis pigmentosa that narrows my visual field to a little pindot on the right behind the subcapsular cataract sandbagging my central vision . . and on the left that caters to my right and pretends that schisms are just a part of the way things are..and so I've been having a little pity party :( Yes, I have them, too . . the Dr in the house, the intellectual, the philosopher. And Christ (yes, dad, that's a prayer:) . . I've really had enough! So I visited my favorite therapist . . Patty . . .she offers her salon chair in the corner . . a shelter against the onslaught of the outside world . .and she listens . . intent on every word. And it is the calm in her reply to my angst that gives me hope . .as she says, "we will never let you go through this all alone, I will always be here for you". And although I truly know that I am not alone . . my sisters, my daughters, my son, my mother . . and my bear.

And even as I share this tonight, it is not in grief . .although I have grieved and I'm sure my tears are not over . . but I write it in love for those who are willing to never let us walk alone . . to always be there with us and for us .. to love us even in our imperfection and our struggle to become whole again . . or to create that new place where we are more sure of our steps that we were before.

And so, for you, too . . I am here . . for my ability to hear is even keener now than it was before . . as always, I am still here . . listening

Grace and Goodness in a Chaotic World

Today I was reading (yesterday's paper :) and a few things struck me about the calamity of errors that are wreaking havoc in our lives. Story #1 was about "speedup" . . you know . . .must get more done in less time! It started in our workplaces as employers are requiring us to do more for less . . and so we began multitasking to keep pace (and to keep our jobs!). And yet, the more they required and we did, the more they have asked of us . . leaving precious little time for our families or our own personal time (god forbid) in which we rest, recharge, and create. We feel zapped . . because we are zapped! Research has shown that employers are actually asking us to do the impossible . . have you kept a time log lately of the hours you have put in on endless tasks? And this doesn't even take into account the loss of sleep or the persistent worry (did I remember to do everything I was asked, did I turn it in on time, is it my turn to pick up donuts for the early morning meeting?).

So what can we do? (Which brings me to Story #2.) This was an article about a woman who lost her job and she was divorced with children .. to feed, and clothe, and shelter. So in her attempt to control some of the chaos (which in her case now edges into personal speedup), she began to cook and bake everything from scratch . . even eventually buying chicks to raise so that she could have eggs and protein for chicken . . promoting the possibility for feeding the family on $100.00 week. . .although as I pointed out earlier (about the speedup), she now says that it does take up so much of her time that she no longer is a freelance writer or has time for personal creativity.

So, where are you in this picture? In my life, I have found that I am multi-tasking way more than I'd like . . writing notes fast and furious as "don't forget" memos free-float in-between the spaces of "got-to-do's". I have little time to create as I pound out work (and thank god, I love what I do:) . . and ponder our next meal.

I try to be mindful and meditate . . and I love hearing the voices of my children and grandchildren . . and touching base with my mom still reminds me that I have so many things to be thankful for . . .

What more could I ask for? What more do I pray for? What else is more important? But, we've got to work . . .and we've got to have food . . so I guess I'll pray for grace . . and God's goodness to shine on us all . . .

How about you? . . I'd love to hear . . as always, I'm still here and listening . .

Moving Forward

How do we move forward when we keep looking to the past? There is an old saying that if we keep doing it the same way, we are going to get the same results. But learning to do anything a new way is not easy since we've grown so comfortable doing it "like we used to do it". And so with every new endeavor there is uncertainty . . .and possibly fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear that we might risk what we're holding onto so tightly in this very moment (which has already passed). So for some of us, we must screw up our courage and choose to move past this place that is keeping us stuck.

Here's the basic question that each of us must ask ourselves.

What do I want most out of life?

Although each of us may have different ways of defining our desires, we've got to put something down before we can move anywhere . . so I'll begin with a few of mine.

I want to be productive, I want to give back, I want to be secure, I want to laugh, I want to be loved and I want to feel like I belong.

Now comes the difficult work . . because we can't just list what we want and be done with it (although I am always hoping the genie will pop out of the magic lamp and grant my wishes :)

Take each statement and break it down . . .

1) I want to be productive.

As you can see, it begins with me. I cannot just want it, I have to do it . . but it requires a bit more depth since I need to know which area of my life I need more productivity. Is it in clearing my work space or in getting past the dishes in the sink? How do I follow-through with one aspiration? By breaking it down into a manageable segment for each day.

2) I want to give back.

Now, this one is a tough one for me because I have so many areas where I feel like I might contribute . . and yet, before I can give back . . I must first give to myself. Sounds a bit selfish, doesn't it? And yet, when we think about it . . if we keep giving and giving and giving without renewal our attitudes and our behaviors will be lackluster . . and who needs any more of that? And so, I will begin to give back today by managing my body (good nutrition and some exercise), my mind (intellectual and/or motivational and/or creative input), and my spirit (connection to universal goodness and wonder).

So how are you beginning to move forward? What steps motivate you? Have you made your list . . or better yet, what have you achieved? Are you still stuck? (Don't worry, we've all been there . . and some of us go there frequently :) I'd love to hear . . since as always, I'm listening . . .

A Kick in the Rumpus

I have no idea whether I should post this in my therapeutic thoughts or in my ordinary women slot since I assume it is a problem that most of us have faced at one time or another (and for me, it seems to cycle round to shoot daggers in my direction way too often for my own comfort). This IT is apathy. I feel like I need a boost . . a kick in the rumpus . . a shot in the arm . . a winning lottery ticket . . or manna from heaven. And yes, I am doing my "attitude of gratitude" at least during some portions of the day . . but I am so drawn to the sofa, to want to put my head under the pillows. I want to shop (but have no money), I want to create (but feel no exuberance) . . so at least I will share. I know that someone out there will be listening (as I am willing, too) . . and I want you to know that you are not alone. And tomorrow, I promise . . for me and for you . . I will put one foot in front of the other and smile at myself as I move away from the mirror of self in this sorry state and walk it off, talk it out, stick my hands in the dirt, and possibly pick up a crayon and draw a new pair of shoes for the creative path. Can't wait to meet you there . . I'll be listening for your footsteps.

Fridays are Meant for Poetry

Our Lady of Perpetual Help

The burnt church up the street yawns to the sky,
its empty windows edged in soot, its portals
boarded up and slathered with graffiti,
oily layers, urgent but illegible.
All that can be plundered has been, all
but the carapace - the hollow bell tower,
the fieldstone box that once served as nave.
The tidy row of homes that line this block
have tended lawns and scalloped bathtub shrines.
Each front porch holds a chair where no one sits.
Those who live here triple lock their doors
day and night. Some mornings they step out
to find a smoking car stripped to its skeleton
abandoned at the curb. Most afternoons
the street is still but for a mourning dove
and gangs of pigeons picking through the grass.
Our Lady of Perpetual Help is gray,
a dead incisor in a wary smile.
A crevice in her wall allows a glimpse
into the chancel, where a sodden mattress
and dirty blanket indicate that someone
finds this place a sanctuary still,
takes his rest here, held and held apart
from passers-by, their cruelties and their kindnesses,
watched over by the night's blind congregation,
by the blank eyes of a concrete saint.

Copyright 2010 April Lindner . . Able Muse Anthology. . St. Petersburg Times