Day 877: Lulls

During a welcome lull in my day yesterday, I saw this:

With all the stress around us, we need to learn to take lulling breaks, wherever and whenever we can find them.

Here are some photos I took yesterday, during some rare lulls in my office:
    

 

Regarding that last lulling image: I observe how there are few lulls in people’s ongoing searches for healthy intimacy in their relationships — with a good balance of connection and personal boundaries.

After yesterday’s  good balance of hard work and rejuvenating  lulls, I took more photographs,  during some lulls in my journey home:


 
      

You may be so lulled, right now, that you miss what I was trying to capture in that last lulling image.  Please take advantage of this lull in today’s post to tell me what you see there.

Personally, I am thinking about these lulls:

  1. The lull before the excitement of the June 6 workshop I’ll be presenting about my therapy groups,
  2. The 3-day lull between that workshop and my audition for a local musical,
  3. The 2-day lull between now and the debut of a non-lulling one-act play which my 17-year-old son Aaron and his friend Cameron wrote and directed,
  4. The lull of  a vacation I’ll be taking in August, perhaps returning  to the lulling and non-lulling Festival Fringe in Edinburgh, Scotland with Aaron, and
  5. Hoped-for and helpful lulls in worries about the future and regrets about the past, for myself and others.

Here’s a lullaby I just found on lulling YouTube:

And after a very short lull, here’s another lullaby:

What are your favorite kinds of lullabies and lulls?

Here’s a helpful lull of gratitude for Aaron, Cameron, Doris Day, Gene Nelson, Brahms, people healing in therapy, heavy machinery, creatures obvious and hidden, healthy intimacy, expressive faces, bleeding hearts, the Red Sox, the planet Earth, lullabies on Broadway and elsewhere, those who sleep when it’s dark and those who sleep when it’s light, and you — of course! — for visiting here,  during a lull in your day.

Categories: personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , | 49 Comments

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49 thoughts on “Day 877: Lulls

  1. Amazing what one acute piece of observation can do for you. Strings, I think, make for the best lullabies, but for a different one that worked for me, I have to go back to Doris Day’s 1956 hit, ‘Qu’est Sera Sera’. I spent two weeks that summer in Surbiton Eye Hospital following an accident with a cricket ball. One eye was bound up, and I wasn’t allowed to read. That record was played over and again. If I could sing, I could probably sing it now. 🙂

  2. A lot of exciting things coming up for you Ann. Here’s hoping you have many beautiful lulls between each one! ❤
    Diana xo

  3. So incredibly creative, Ann. I love sharing your perspective through the photos you take. As for the last one, it looks like maybe fabric with a discoloration or stain on it – I don’t really know. That was definitely a lull for me to try to figure that out, I suppose! Love Que sera sera – wise song just like you 🙂

    • Reading your comment gave me the best kind of lull in my day, Nurse Kelly, because now I feel totally appreciated and seen. My cat Harley isn’t feeling quite as seen, but he’s fine with that.

  4. Thank you for inviting me to join you in your lulls Ann. I have no idea what the last photo is… but I expect it to be very lulling.
    My take away thought today is … not be confused between lull and LOL. Although they do seem interchangeable sometimes 🙂

  5. I always enjoy the lulls that pop up during the day. Would that be Harley behind the screen in that last shot? Your blog has lulled me into a false sense of thinking I don’t have to get started with my day with its great photos and thought provoking ideas about regret

  6. I forgive myself. Powerful.

    The last image looks like the fabric on my cubicle walls at work, and possibly a stain, or a light shining on it???

    • It IS powerful to forgive ourselves. Thank you for naming that. The light shining through that screen door is the lighter of my two cats.

      • Oh my gosh! As I read that (from my notification page) I could not envision anything but my cubicle wall. But with your words in my head I went back to your page….sure enough….cat through a screen. I’ll be darned.

      • That’s the way perception works. We can get lulled into habitual ways of seeing. I am impressed you could see things differently!

      • Thank you for being impressed! I take that whenever and where ever I can get it. 😉 We often discuss perception at work, it is fascinating to ‘watch’ and see the changes, the differences.

  7. One image has me intrigued. Can you explain the analogy of the Slinky and intimacy. This is the second time I see it; and find it fascinating. Apparently when the slinky is stretched, there is not intimacy, but when it’s taut, there is?
    There is a lull I remember and it’s considered a “country folk lull”, written in the U.S. years ago, but remains anonymous. Performed by Peter, Paul and Mary:

    • The slinky and the intimacy scale are two different things I got into one photo. I really appreciate how you put it together, Maria; there are no lulls in your insights. If you want to read how I explain the slinky, that’s in a very early post of mine. (I’ll insert the link here later, when there’s a lull in my son’s use of my laptop.) Thank you for the Peter, Paul, and Mary performance!

  8. How exciting to see a play that Aaron and his friend wrote and will direct! Can’t wait for pictures of that!

    • I hope there are lulls in the play when I can take some good photos, Kate. As always, it is lullingly wonderful to see you here.

  9. Thank you for the lull(s) and lullabies! Lullabies are some of my favorite songs, and you others posted some great ones!

  10. In that last photo I see a dog looking through a screen door. It’s the lull before the frenzy of action as the dog bursts into the yard to chase something–perhaps the rabbit. Perhaps it says something about my state of mind at the moment that in all your lulls I see the calm before the storm. This isn’t a bad thing. Storms can be exciting and a lot of fun.

    • I think storms and your comments on my blog can be exciting and a lot of fun, Christopher. This one would have been even more exciting and fun if you had seen a cat, instead of a dog.

  11. Being retired, I am all about lulls. Embrace the lull, even if you think you don’t have the time. ☺ Van

  12. I am taking a lull in my morning math lesson to wonder what kind of place would deny entry to socks? I am thinking — a podiatrist? a pedicurist? a place where people crush grapes with their toes? Or maybe the socks have something to do with all the bunnies — who are also not wearing socks?

    On a more serious note, I am wondering about your note that even though it may feel like it, it is not the end of the world. The only time I’ve ever said to someone that it’s not the end of the world, it’s been for something trivial, such as getting a poor mark on an exam.

    Is it ever okay to support someone in thinking that it is the end of the world? Aside from, say, the sun burning out or the earth being knocked out of orbit by a giant flying rock, when it’s the end of the world for everyone at the same time and nobody is going to debate it — Is there ever a time for an individual, when we should say, “Yes, it’s the end of the world (for you). I’m sorry. Let’s feel sad about that”?

    Maybe that is the moment when we take our socks off and run around with the bunnies.

    • Maybe this is the moment when I put my sox on, run around with lulling bunnies and cats, and say that it would feel like the end of the world to me if you ever stopped leaving comments here, Maureen.

  13. Even the idea of a lull sounds good to me, and Brahms Lullaby too, thanks. Peter, Paul and Mary for extras. it’s definitely my bedtime now.

    • Thanks for dropping by for the lulling and the lullabies here, Hilary. I feel more peaceful after you visit.

  14. When I was always incredibly busy with college and life preparation at the U of Maryland, Ann, I would try to force a lull into weeknights with a friend Sandy by watching Martin Mull in “Fernwood Tonight,” which she loved.

    I wonder who was the first person who changed the ‘u’ to ‘o’ and made it lollygag, Ann?

    Aaron’s play should be more lively that Martin Mull’s show with no lollygagging, if that YouTube clip of he and his friend’s song you had on here previously is a good indicator, Ann.

    • Mark, Mull is another lull we’ve had in common. I loved Fernwood 2 Night and watched it every time it was on, no matter how I was lully- and/or lollygagging.

  15. Oh how I liked Doris Day she was one of my favourite singers as a child and teenager, thanks for the memory.

  16. Aaron and Cameron are super talented and prolific.

    • I am reading this second lulling comment from you today in the lull right before I go to sleep. Would it be lulling if I observed, Maureen, that it takes a super talented and prolific one to know other ones?

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