Today, October 23, is National Mole Day in the USA.
What kind of mole would you guess is being recognized?
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Have you made your guess? If not, I’ll wait.
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Okay! Here’s the answer:
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Even though Avagadro’s number is something I learned in high school Chemistry that I simply CANNOT FORGET (although I can easily forget almost any other number that exists), I still didn’t put it together that the date 10/23 was related to 10 to the 23rd.
I do not have 10 to the 23rd images to share with you on National Mole Day, but the number is somewhere between 10 and 23.
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Here’s what I find when I search for “National Mole Day” on YouTube.
Thanks to all who are helping me celebrate National Mole Day, including YOU!
The introduction to today’s post is going to be my random thoughts about introductions:
I’m working on the introduction to the first book I’ve ever written — “How to Make Your Brain Shut Up.”
My introduction of a new member into my Coping and Healing groups always includes inviting the other people to remember what it felt like when they were new to the group.
When I was giving a talk about my groups and was asked what I wanted as an introduction, I replied, “Just say, this is Ann Koplow. She knows what she’s talking about.”
Before the introduction in 2016 of a mechanical heart valve and the need to take Coumadin/Warfarin for the rest of my life, I was very anxious about the impact of those things, but now it’s all second nature to me.
My husband Michael and I feared that the introduction of a new cat, Joan, would bother our old cat Harley, but after a brief introductory period of hissing and him adjusting to her, everybody’s fine.
Now that we’ve finished the introduction, do you see introductions in my images for today?
To celebrate National Cousins Day, I want to tell my cousin Lani (who’s being reading this blog since its introduction in 2013) how much I love and appreciate her. I’m looking forward to our introduction to Viking River cruises in May 2023.
Here are the two songs I think have especially great introductions:
I feel fine about ending this post about introductions with gratitude for all the wonderful people I’m been introduced to over the years, including YOU!
Yesterday, in a Coping and Healing therapy group, which people attend as they need, we talked about needs.
When somebody in the group said they needed kindness, I needed to ask, “Who else in this room needs kindness?” Everybody needed to raise their hand, including me.
If you were in that group and I asked you, “What do you need, here and now?” what would you need to answer?
Kindness?
Appreciation?
I don’t know what I need right now, so I need to think about it?
Something else?
My needs (in case you need to know) include blogging and sharing photos.
Now I need to
take my little yellow car in for the 40,000 mile check up it needs,
meet my friend Barbara, who I’ve needed for over 60 years,
“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.” — Rabindranath Tagore
“I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds above; those that I fight I do not hate and those that I guard I do not love.” — William Butler Yeats
” Do you wish to rise? Begin by descending. You plan a tower that will pierce the clouds? Lay first the foundation of humility.” — St. Augustine
“It is better to have your heads in the clouds and know where you are … than to breathe the clearer atmosphere below them, and think that you are in paradise.” — Henry David Thoreau
“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.” — Edward Abbey
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” — John Lubbock
“Clouds do not really look like camels or sailing ships or castles in the sky. They are simply a natural process at work. So too, perhaps, are our lives.” — Roger Ebert
“Mirth is like a flash of lightening, that breaks through a gloom of clouds, and glitters for a moment; cheerfulness keeps up a kind of daylight in the mind, and fills it with a steady and perpetual serenity.” — Joseph Addison
“Let the people on both sides keep their self-possession, and just as other clouds have cleared away in due time, so will this, and this great nation will continue to prosper as before.” — Abraham Lincoln
“I, like everybody else, have a certain fear of heights, and I have to be very careful when I’m in the clouds, but it is also what I love; it is my domain, so when you love something, you don’t have fear.” —Philippe Petit
“Who cares about the clouds when we’re together? Just sing a song and bring the sunny weather.” — Dale Evans
Do you see any clouds in these other recent photos?
Here‘s another song that’s hovering in the clouds of this post, above:
If you were to comment on this post, I’d be on Cloud 9.
Now it’s time to end this post in a cloud of gratitude, so thanks and happy trails to all who help me find my way through the clouds to blog every day, including YOU.
Yesterday, for my birthday, I saw a great production of the wonderful play Small Mouth Sounds,about a group of six people at a silent retreat.
Before the play started, my boyfriend Michael made a small mouth sound when he noticed the incredible coincidence of his twin brother (who never goes to the theater) attending the same performance of the play. About 40 minutes into the play, I made a small mouth sound when I realized that I had neglected to leave my car key with the valet at the parking garage which was a twenty-minute walk away from the theater. I made several small mouth sounds as I wrestled with the decision of whether to disturb people in the theater to try to contact the parking garage or to stay in my seat and allow my keyless car to perhaps create havoc where I had left it.
Michael and I made small mouth sounds as we communicated silently about my dilemma, echoing the action in the play, where the characters had taken a vow of silence for a five-day mindfulness retreat. Michael mouthed and gestured “Call them!” It took me ten minutes to decide what to do while my brain made small sounds (interfering with my ability to hear the small sounds of the play) like these:
How could I have done that? Why am I realizing NOW that I forgot to leave the key? Wouldn’t it have been more effective if that thought had occurred to me during our long and circuitous walk to the theater? Could it have been the fear of being late for the play or the distraction of immediately being asked directions by another theater goer who was also confused about where the play was and who accompanied us on our search for the location? Why didn’t the parking valet run after us after realizing that I had forgotten to leave the key? Why haven’t they tried to contact me through the parking app? Have they towed my car? Is this going to ruin my or anybody else’s day? How do I get out of this long row of people and unobtrusively leave the theater when the audience is staring at each other across the center stage and the actors are maintaining such a delicate and effective balance of comedy and tragedy in this almost-silent 110-minute play without an intermission?
Eventually, I made the smallest sounds possible leaving the theater and contacting the parking garage, finally reaching somebody who made small and kind mouth sounds reassuring me that my car and everything else was okay.
After the play, Michael and his twin brother made small mouth sounds telling me what I had missed during my absence, including the cute guy in the play getting completely naked. I made a small mouth sound indicating that I thought they were kidding, but they weren’t.
Michael and I made our way back to the parking garage, making small mouth sounds all the way. There, the nice parking attendant, who had made small mouth sounds with me on the phone, told me I had left the car running, so the valet had no trouble parking it and getting it out of the way. While he was talking to us about this, he made a small mouth sound when he was informed that SOMEBODY ELSE had just left the parking garage without leaving their key. Because that car wasn’t running, somebody ran after that other forgetful parker, making large mouth sounds to call him back.
You may make small mouth sounds when you look at my latest photos:
I look forward to using that gift from Michael of the USB microphone to record the small mouth sounds of my original songs.
I also look forward to seeing my friend and comedian’s comedian Ron Lynch in L.A. at his Tomorrow Showon March 3. Here and here are YouTube videos of Ron and audience members making many mouth sounds at the Bridgetown Comedy Festival.
I’ll be making small mouth sounds of appreciation for any comment you leave, below.
I’m now making large mouth sounds of gratitude for all who helped me create this post and — of course! — YOU.
“Live Free or Die” is the official motto of the U.S. state of New Hampshire, adopted by the state in 1945. It is possibly the best-known of all state mottos, partly because it conveys an assertive independence historically found in American political philosophy and partly because of its contrast to the milder sentiments found in other state mottos.
As I have lived free for many years, I have noticed that flashy assertiveness gets more attention than milder sentiments. Here are some of the milder sentiments displayed on U.S. license plates:
The Natural State
Colorful
World Famous Potatoes
Visit
It’s That Friendly
Smiling Faces
Is OK!
Sounds Good to Me
Peace Garden State
The Hospitality State
Seat Belts Fastened?
Drive Carefully
Do you agree that those other state license plates are not as lively or as to-die-for?
Today, as I live free and do not die, I would like to share something I said to my sister, last night, over dinner, after a very difficult day where I died several psychological deaths because of worry, projection, mind reading, fortune telling and other cognitive distortions:
I would like to declare that, as of now, I will never, ever again assume that other people are having harshly negative and judgmental thoughts about what I’m doing or not doing. Tomorrow morning, I will wake up, free of that old and unhelpful habit.
This morning, as I try to live free of those old patterns and habits, I’m noticing this: So far so good.
Actually, “So Far So Good” would make a good (if not entirely memorable) license plate.
Shall we live free and/or die for my other photos from yesterday?
It looks to me like that pineapple and broccoli are living free, undyingly.
For auld lang syne and for new times ahead, let’s take a cup of kindness, dears.
Here‘s Auld Lang Syne, with cups of kindness from Scandinavian Soprano Sissel Kyrkjebø:
Any cups or kindness in my other photos from yesterday?
In case anybody was wondering, there will be another sequel to The Year of Living Non-Judgmentally. That is, I’ll be blogging daily in 2017, sharing cups of kindness with you all.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 