Well, it took me 355 days to use the word “love” in the title of a blog post this year.
I was about to say, “Shame on me,” but I stopped, because:
- Shame doesn’t do me any good, so I would like to stop using that phrase (and let go of shame) as quickly as I can, and
- I am already suspecting that my first sentence of this post … is incorrect.
That is, I think I MAY have used the word “love” in the title of a blog post before.
Therefore, ladies and gentlemen of the blogosphere, I shall now, with my lovely assistant, WordPress, search all my previous posts, for a title using the word “Love.”
This may take me a little while, but the time will pass by quickly, here.
.
.
.
Wow. Some interesting things have happened, here in Ann Time.
I haven’t checked my old posts yet. Instead, I noticed, after I “paused” this post, that I was feeling unusually cold. And when I checked the digital thermostat, I saw that it was blank. I didn’t take a picture of that, but here’s a close-enough representation of what I saw:
Eeeeeeeeeek!!!!
So in the middle of writing a post on love, I was experiencing my old friend, fear.
I assume that nobody wants to feel cold, or to see a non-working thermostat. However, some people may be more afraid of those things, when:
- It’s very cold outside.
- You are alone, when you encounter the problem.
- No help is available, to solve the problem.
There are times, in my life, where the above factors have been true, for me. But none of them were true, today. However, I felt fear AS IF those three things were true.
Why? As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, there are reasons why I might feel a more intense fear, initially, when the heat goes off and the thermostat is not working:
- Since I was a little kid, I’ve depended upon machines and batteries (specifically, cardiac pacemakers) to keep me alive, so I tend to overreact when machines don’t work, or when things run out of power.
- When I was in the hospital as a little kid, the temperature was often too cold, and I had no control over that (as I had no control over many other things).
Hey, guess what? I just got interrupted, again, in the middle of writing this post.
But before I tell you about THAT interruption, I want to tell you what happened, regarding the thermostat and the cold.
After my first reaction (Eeeeeeek!!!!), this is what happened:
- I noticed that reaction of fear.
- I used coping skills and techniques I’ve learned throughout my life, to let go of the fear.
- I concentrated on the reality of the current situation.
- I came up with a theory of why the heat was off and the thermostat was blank.
- I called the Heating Guy on my team** — Tom Prendergast — and he agreed with my theory. As a matter of fact, he offered me a job on his night crew.
- We discussed possible solutions.
- I implemented a solution.
- The heat came back on and so did the thermostat:
Then, I called back Tom Prendergast, and left him the following message: “We are both very smart, I do not want the night job, and thank you for everything.”
And — to go back to the title of my post today — I had feelings of love, then. Because I felt safe. I knew that I was not alone. As a result, I was able to let go of fear, connect with my own wisdom and experience, ask for help, and solve a problem.
Yes, doing all those things, whenever I can, helps me get in touch with my feelings of love.
When I first started writing this post, there were other things I wanted to say about love. I wanted to allow room for all — random and otherwise — thoughts about love, because I (like other people) can have fears about using that word.
However, right now, I have some unfinished business to complete, in this post.
I need to tell you about the second interruption I mentioned above, which occurred as I was writing this post. That interruption was a phone call, from a dear old friend, who would like to accompany me here:
And that conversation helped me get more in touch with love, too.
One more piece of unfinished business: DID I use the word “love” in the title of a previous post this year?****
You know what? It doesn’t matter. What matters is this: I’m using it now.
Thus concludes our post for today, dear reader.
Thanks to all my friends (old and new), everybody on my team, and you — of course! — for reading today.
* I found this image here.
** For more about the concept of “My Team,” see here and here.
*** See here, for more about escaping to there.
**** I did, actually, use the word “love” before (here and here), plus I used a variation on the word (“lovable”) here.
Like the idea about not saying “shame on me.” Brilliant!
I’m so glad you like that idea! Give it a try, and see what happens.
I love that you were able to fix your thermostat! What was the problem? Was there a battery involved? Is it like a computer, where you have to turn it off and then on again?
We have a digital themostat that looks like yours, and none of us know how to use it well at all. It replaces one that was probably fifty years old and had a lever, and never worked properly because it sat in full sun, but at least we knew what to do when the temperature in the house dropped: push the lever. With the digital one, there are flashing lights and flashing dots and times for this and that and one day, I know, it is going to give up on us and just go dark. Like yours. So, I would like to be ready for that day.
Going to Panama to get away from the thermostat, though — that is truly ingenious. And with a friend, for the fear.
……
I feel it very deeply when you write about being a child in the hospital. Being cold then and not being able to control the temperature. Working in the hospital where you were treated as a child. Poignant and painful. And I’m glad that the camel in your Avatar is in such a warm place.
I loved this comment before I knew it was from you, and then when I saw who it was, I thought, “Of course!”
The problem was with the boiler — it’s a steam boiler so it needed more water. I DID need to reset the thermostat. I am still afraid of that thermostat because it’s new and I have no idea how to use it. I’ve lost the manual, too. However, I feel better about it now, since our encounter today. I probably SHOULD learn more about how to use that friggin’ thermostat, but you know what? I’ve got better (more fun) things to do today.
And I really appreciate your expressing your deep feelings. It means a lot.
One bit of — not important — data .. I am not working in the same hospital where I was treated as a child. However, it feels AS IF I were. So every bit of your comment is helpful to me today.
The camel and I both thank you, for all of it.
What is it about manuals? I never keep them. Even when I think that I’ve kept one, know that I kept one, it is nowhere to be found when I need it.
Yet, when I was packing up my parents’ place, I discovered that my father had kept every manual for anything he owned, but no manuals for things he no longer had. So, there was a receipt and booklet of cleaning instructions for a sofa that my parents bought in the 1970s, and the manual for a lamp he got at Home Depot about 5 years ago, and the instructions for the electric razor (two decades old) and microwave (ten years old) and … so many more. I thought that I’d turn up at least one manual for something that he’d disposed of, but it seems he was right on top of things.
Keys, though. He had boxes of keys. I don’t know what any of them are for. While I have only got the keys for the doors I need to open.
I’m glad that manuals are now available online. Some things can’t be figured out with a hammer anymore.
I have trouble keeping track of manuals, although I do try to keep them together in one drawer. Typically, regarding the thermostat, I can find the Quick Start-up Installation Guides AND a beautiful foreign-language user manual, but not the document I really need. I also have old keys around, but I’ve lost track of what they’re for.
There are many things I resist throwing away, because I assume they’ll be useful. But can I find them when I need them? It’s usually a hair-raising adventure.
Thanks for this great comment.
I need to get “shame” out of my vocabulary too. Also, I panic when things don’t work either…recently it was both the refrigerators we had. The first one kept everything nice and warm (and spoiled). The second one would keep things cold, but when it hit the “thaw” it wouldn’t kick back on until we unplugged it and kicked it haha. It ended up needing a new defrost timer thing…but all the food I had to throw out because the landlord insisted the fridge was fine?! Eek.
Eeeek and ick, too! Thanks for this great comment, Jess. Another old friend, Barbara, has pointed out to me that — even though I have my own, unique reasons to feel how I do — other people often share my feelings. Thanks for showing me that again, today, Jess. I love that you visit here, and comment, too!
Well so much of what you write resonates with me, and I know how great it feels to have someone read your posts, relate to them and then tell you that 🙂
Merry [almost] Christmas!
It does feel great! Merry [almost] Christmas, back at ya, Jess.
I understand your fear about battery power, what with the time-keeping-helper inside you. No shame in that, Ann. I love this post. You’re fun when you meander a bit and then meander on. Here’s a suggestion for a quiter day: If you google the make and number of your thermostat (if it’s on the thing, that is) perhaps you can find a copy of the manual online. Wouldn’t it be comforting to know how to take the temperature up and down at your whim?
Thanks, Mark. Good advice. Sometimes, believe it or not, I like to live dangerously! (That might be the diva in me.) However, I think having a copy of the manual is just what the doctor ordered, right now.
And sorry for MY typos. I meant ‘meander a bit and then ramble on’ and ‘quieter day.’ Yikes.
I didn’t notice your typos, Mark. Usually, I only notice mine. Thanks for both your wonderful comments today.
You’re so smart. I love the way you let the crazy out a little, but then totally get it under control. I wish I had your wisdom! Sometimes I feel like I’m just flailing around 😉
You have your own wisdom, and — if your comments are any indication — I love the way you flail! This comment made me very happy. Thanks for visiting.
Ha, you’re welcome! Yeah, I make flailing look good 😉
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Haha, Ann, I love your flowy and rambly writing style (or at least the style of the few posts I have read). Had to smile at how you switched from love to fear.. how often those two go hand in hand…though more often it seems that fear holds us back from love, doesn’t it?
Grateful to have found you,
Christy
Grateful we found each other, too, Christy. Thank you so much for this kind and thought-provoking comment. I look forward to future meet-ups here!
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