I believe I may have published another blog post with the title “What is essential?” However, I’m creating this post on my iPhone, which makes it more difficult to check past posts, and I’m deciding that knowing that is not essential.
Other facts are much more essential, these days.
I often take photos of things that are essential to me.
I essentially don’t know how these two images …
… got onto my iPhone. Other facts are much more essential these days.
Because of the work I’m doing — remotely providing group and individual therapy at an essential Boston hospital — it’s essential that I take a day off once in a while, which I’m doing today.
If you’re interested in attending a remote Open Mic this Friday May 15, 7 – 9 PM U.S. Eastern Time, when I’ll be performing a slightly rewritten version of my original song “Triggers,” it’s essential that you sign up by the end of the day before (May 14), using this link:
The essential Edinburgh Fringe Festival has been cancelled this year — the first time in its history — but here‘s my performance of “Triggers” at last year’s festival:
Holding a grudge is not one of my biggest strengths. Neither is cooking. Luckily, I’m married to somebody whose biggest strengths include making great meals, like chili and cornbread.
My biggest strengths include
group therapy,
blogging, and
writing and performing original songs, like this one:
What to think about this morning includes the virtual Jam’n Java Open Mic this Friday, May 1, 7PM- 9PM USA Eastern Time, which will feature me, my ukulele, and my song “I Left the House Before I Felt Ready.” If you think you might want to attend, sign up using this link by Thursday, April 30.
What to think about these images I captured yesterday?
Thank you, dear readers, for all the messages of encouragement you’ve given me for my blog posts, my photos, my original songs, my work, my sense of humor, and my various adventures, through sickness and in health.
Do you agree that the coronavirus makes oddballs of us all?
Earlier in my oddball day, somebody in a Coping and Healing group said they felt like an oddball until they expressed their feelings and realized they were not alone. Oddly enough, I’ve seen this happen hundreds of times over my 20-odd years as a group therapist.
Later in my oddball day, several Oddballs in another remote Coping and Healing group did a scavenger hunt in our oddball homes, finding and sharing oddball things that were important to us. One of the oddball, important, and favorite items shared was this:
Oddly enough, this oddball item was not shared by me during the scavenger hunt but by a different Oddball.
Are you ready for some other recent oddball images captured by this Oddball during these oddball times?
That last oddball photo shows an oddball item I retrieved and showed in yesterday’s oddball scavenger hunt. Does anybody have an oddball guess of what that entertaining item was?
This Oddball has oddly been having trouble writing oddball songs lately, but I did write these recent oddball lyrics:
Now more than ever
We need to be together,
But now is the time we need to stay apart.
Because people are contagious
New behaviors seem outrageous
And each of us is holding lots of worry in our heart.
Here and here are two oddball original songs I performed in August 2019 for lots of oddballs at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, one of the biggest yearly gatherings of oddballs in the world (which has been cancelled during this oddball year):
This Oddball had planned to perform that second oddball song at a gathering of other social worker oddballs at the hospital where we work, but that annual party was also cancelled during this oddball year.
During oddball times like these, we have to remember to grieve our losses and to realize that we are not alone.
I’m looking forward to lots of oddball comments, below, and here’s some oddball thanks from one oddball to another!
Everyday I look around, wondering if something terrible is about to happen.
Here’s what today’s Daily Bitch Calendar has to say about that:
Something terrible might include floods …
or technology disasters.
How do we enjoy the good times if something terrible is probably about to happen? Is it possible that knowing that something terrible (like injustice, pain, sickness, and death) is probably about to happen might HELP us enjoy the good times?
In both of my Coping and Healing groups yesterday, people talked about good times AND somethings terrible, which I wrote up on The Board of Importance.
Somebody who had been away from the group for a long time shared that listening to this song on YouTube had helped them get through something terrible:
Good times!
Feel free to share good times, something terrible, or anything else in the comments section, below.
In all the thousands of daily blog posts this adult has written over the past seven years, there’s been only one blog post with “adult” in the title. That was Day 1466: Adulting, posted ALMOST EXACTLY three years ago today (but which adults are counting … and why?).
The value of marriage is not that adults produce children, but that children produce adults. — Peter De Vries
Why did adults have to be so thick? They always say, “tell the truth,” and when you do, they don’t believe you. What’s the point? — Rick Riordan
“If you’re going to be a grown-up,” said Joan, “you’ve got to start thinking about grown-up things. And number one is money.” — Julian Barnes
Oh Christ, he groaned to himself, if this is the stuff adults have to think about I never want to grow up. — Stephen King
It’s only adults who read the top levels most of the time. I think children read the internal meanings of everything. — Maurice Sendak
Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them. — Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Some people discard their childhood like an old hat. They forget about it like a phone number that’s no longer valid. They used to be kids, then they became adults — but what are they now? Only those who grow up and continue to be children are humans. — Erich Kästner
Adults are just making things up as they go along. And when they’re scared, adults have no more answers than us kids. — Mike A. Lancaster
“You and I both know that love is for children,” he said. “We’re adults. Compatibility is for adults.” “Compatibility is for my bluetooth and my car,” Teresa replied. “Only they get along just fine, and my car never makes my bluetooth feel like shit.” — Maggie Stiefvater
I bet if you look at the average teenager and the average adult, the average teenager has read more books in the past year than the average adult. Now of course the adult would be all like, “I’m busy, I got a job, I got stuff to do.” WHATEVER! READ! I mean, you’re watching CSI: Miami. Why would you be watching CSI: Miami when you could be READING CSI: Miami, the novelization? — John Green
Here are all the photos this adult took yesterday (when she could have been reading instead):
Yesterday, I was looking forward to performing at an Open Mic, with my child (who is now an adult) in the audience. One of my worst fears as an adult (based on an actual experience I had as a child) is to forget the words and chords when I’m in front of a audience. Last night, that worst fear came true …
… but I’m enough of an adult to be okay with it!
I’m looking forward to what adults have to say about today’s post.
I think gratitude is a very adult way to end this post, so thanks to all who help me blog every day, including YOU.
