Don’t worry, I’ll tell you answer. It’s a resounding NO.
Yesterday, people discussed the difference between worry and planning AND the difference between worry and caring.
Despite our confusion about those concepts, it is very possible to plan without worry and to care without worry, although separating those out takes work.
Does it help to worry about Oscar during his last days?
No, but it helps to plan and to care.
Does it help to worry about any of my photos here today?
Does it help to worry about procrastination or instant gratification? Coincidentally, last night my son and my husband were discussing the benefits of procrastination. Aaron said that procrastination involves getting a lot of other things done while you’re procrastinating. Also, procrastination makes you work efficiently, because you’re doing things quickly at the last minute.
Am I worried about my son? No.
Does worry help as I look for a dance number from Top Hat, which Oscar and I watched yesterday?
Does it help to worry about the weather? Not according to Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire.
What’s your first guess about why today’s post is titled “First guess, best guess”? Let’s find out if it’s the best guess.
Since the first day I met my best friend/husband Michael, he’s been saying, “First guess, best guess.”
One of my other best friends wrote to me the other day, when I felt insecure about how I had run a board meeting: “I’m not sure 2nd guessing is helpful.”
Is it your first guess, best guess that both those pieces of advice — “First guess, best guess” and “I’m not sure 2nd guessing is helpful” — mean the same thing?
I love guessing and I don’t stop with my first guess. If I DID stop with my first guess, our ailing and adorable cat Oscar would not be alive today. Also, Michael’s first guess was that the Social Security office had his correct birthday on file and they did NOT. My next guess about filing our taxes is that we’ll have to do that by mail, which is not exactly a catastrophe (although my first guess — when the IRS rejected our e-filing this weekend because Michael’s birthday on the form did not match Social Security’s record — was that it WAS a catastrophe).
Catastrophizing is a common cognitive distortion (which we talk about in my Coping and Healing groups) where our first guess is that a catastrophe is imminent, even though it isn’t.
Since catastrophizing is a first guess, not best guess, I’m now guessing that “first guess, best guess” is not always best.
However, my first guess about Michael, when I first met him on okCupid, was that he was a wonderful person I wanted in my life. I’ve had similar first guess, best guesses about other people, including the other best friend I quoted above.
My best guess about guesses, here and now, is that it’s best to trust our intuition AND also be open to new evidence that comes along.
What’s your first guess, best guess about what’s next in this blog post?
If you guessed photos, your first guess was the best!
In today’s Daily Bitch Calendar, auto-correct’s first guess was not the best guess.
This is the first song I heard by The Guess Who, which I think is their best:
My first guess was that the title of that song was “She’s Come Undone” but my best guess is that it is “Undun.”
My first guess, best guess is that there will be great comments about today’s post.
First guess, best guess, constant guess is to express gratitude every day.
In my mind, I’ve been turning around the pros and cons of euthanasia for our ailing and beloved cat, Oscar. Yesterday morning, Oscar seemed so sick that I scheduled a home euthanasia visit for this afternoon. This morning, I am turning around to cancel that visit, because Oscar took a turn for the better yesterday afternoon.
I notice Oscar has trouble turning around without staggering in the morning. In the afternoons, he is turning around before he settles in my lap. And no matter what he is doing, he is still turning around to eat some delicious chicken whenever we offer it to him.
My son is not turning around in his belief that we should not euthanize Oscar. My husband Michael is turning around what he believes is right, depending on Oscar’s behavior.
I’m used to turning around many perspectives in my mind while making decisions, especially difficult ones like this one. With so much turning around, everybody seems a little dizzy, including Oscar.
Turning around to today’s photos, here’s the inspiration for today’s title:
When I saw that sign yesterday, I thought there was probably no turning around from today being Oscar’s last day on earth. However, in my life, I’ve experienced and witnessed so much turning around that nothing seems written in stone.
Last week, I witnessed people in my Coping and Healing groups turning around low self esteem by discussing positive attributes. If anyone had trouble naming what they liked about themselves, the other group members had no trouble turning around to share what they appreciated about that person.
Every time I try to write my last letter from the President for the Northeastern Society for Group Psychotherapy, I keep turning around to other activities, like watching musicals on TV (including The Music Man, Bye Bye Birdie, and On The Town).
Here’s a thought that’s turning around in my mind: It’s difficult to say goodbye.
No matter where I am, I’m often turning around to take photos like these:
The sunshine in my life includes family, friends, my work as a group therapist, cats, music, this blog, humor, nature, good memories, the riches of the present moment, persistent hope about the future, and a helpful stance of curiosity.
The hurricane in my life includes the imminent death of our sweet, plucky, and ailing kitty Oscar; losses of good friends; bureaucracies; corrupt world leaders; social injustice; the coronavirus pandemic; and yet another taxes-related fiasco (the IRS rejecting our e-filed return yesterday because “your spouse’s birthday doesn’t match the IRS records”).
When I was freaking out and focusing on the hurricane yesterday, my spouse (whose birthday SHOULD match the IRS records!!!!) said to me:
“What is it that you tell your patients? Nothing is actually hurting you now. I think the taxes glitch will be easily resolved.”
My spouse brings so much sunshine into my life, even during the hurricane.
Do you see sunshine and/or hurricane in these images from July 4, 2020?
Our 18-year-old cat, Oscar, who has cancer, has been staggering, sometimes, when he walks. Otherwise, his appetite is good and he does not seem to be in pain. He continues to be a staggeringly sweet kitty who wants to be close to his family.
It is staggering to me ….
What world leaders will do to hold onto power,
The increase of coronavirus cases in the United States,
That the U.S. President discourages testing and social distancing despite the recommendations of his own staff,
How people can ignore facts and science because of fear, anger, and denial,
How pernicious white male rage can be,
How some people are valued over others,
How kind, perceptive, and thoughtful my 22-year old son is,
That my son Aaron thinks that people should have the option of euthanasia and animals should be allowed to die naturally,
How long the line and wait was yesterday for Aaron to be tested for COVID-19,
How quickly we got the good test results,
How beautiful the South Shore of Boston is,
How everything my husband Michael cooks is so delicious, and
How great it is when the whole family is in the house.
Do you see anything staggering in my photos from yesterday ?
It is staggering to me that somebody posted a negative comment at the end of this article in the Deseret News starring yours truly.
Jennifer Graham, the awesome writer of that article, found me through this blog and
the article links to this performance of my original song “Left the House Before I Felt Ready”!
My viewer numbers on YouTube are still less than staggering even after the publication of that story. However, I will keep staggering along in my pursuit of fame and fortune.
In the meantime, I am staggeringly grateful to all who follow me here, including YOU!
I am no longer President of the Northeastern Society for Group Psychotherapy, so I am no longer worrying about acting Presidential (although “acting Presidential” no longer has the same meaning it used to).
I am no longer able to say that I never saw that before. It’s been no longer than 55 years that I’ve known Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks as comic geniuses.
Mel Brooks, who describes himself on Twitter as “Writer, Director, Actor, Producer and Failed Dairy Farmer” and who no longer can have dinner every night with his old friend and co-writer Carl Reiner, posted this no-longer-than-280-character tribute yesterday:
Carl was a giant, unmatched in his contributions to entertainment. He created comedy gems like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Jerk, and Where’s Poppa? I met him in 1950 when he joined Sid Caesar on Your Show of Shows, and we’ve been best friends ever since. I loved him. When we were doing The 2000 Year Old Man together there was no better straight man in the world. So whether he wrote or performed or was just your best friend — nobody could do it better. He’ll be greatly missed. A tired cliché in times like this, but in Carl Reiner’s case it’s absolutely true. He will be greatly missed.
It took me no longer than a few seconds to find this great photo of Carl Reiner, Annie Reiner, and Mel Brooks that was taken no longer than two days away from Mel Brooks’s 94th birthday and Carl Reiner’s death day:
I hope it is no longer debatable in this country that black lives matter.
I am no longer worried about other people’s incorrect assumptions or my inadvertent miscommunications, like Mel Brooks’s birthday and Carl Reiner’s death day being the same day (which they aren’t — they are one day apart).
This post is no longer focusing on words as I share my images from yesterday:
I am no longer expecting comments but I will welcome any you choose to make.
It takes no longer than one word to express heart-felt gratitude.
Closure is challenging, because it brings up old closures, which often relate to losses.
I like to use the term “ending the chapter”, when I talk to people about closure. Somebody, in my office, recently said that in their culture, they use the term “putting the period on the end of the sentence.” I like that, too.
Here’s what I’ve written, so far, about closure in my final letter from the President:
As I’ve thought about writing this, my final letter to you as President of NSGP, naturally my mind has gone to thoughts of closure. (Personally, I don’t like the word “termination”, because that sounds SO final.) As I have learned from my trainings at NSGP (and as I often tell people in my “Coping and Healing” drop-in groups) a good-enough sense of closure is critical in transitions — allowing us to appreciate what we’ve shared together and to move ahead better equipped for future challenges.
In my groups, we often discuss the insufficient and disappointing closures with family members, friends, work situations, organizations, and other important aspects of our life, and how this lack of satisfying closure in important transitions can keep us stuck. During these challenging days, when we might be feeling uncomfortably stuck, closure is especially important.
So what helps with closure? Saying what feels left unsaid.
Naming what you got.
Naming what you didn’t get.
Discarding what is not serving you well.
Later today, I will facilitate a “Coping and Healing” group on a telehealth platform (which I sometimes call “The Home Version of Coping and Healing”). At the end of the group, the participants will hear me, as usual, acknowledge the importance of getting closure in the “wrap up” section of the group. I will introduce wrap-up by explaining, again, what helps with closure. I will invite discarding “what is not serving you well” by showing this to the group:
That’s the magic waste paper basket, an important part of my Coping and Healing groups. If you throw something away in the magic waste paper basket, it will either go away or come back less powerful. Here’s an incomplete list of what people have thrown away in the magic waste paper basket:
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