Day 2070: What’s your super power

Yesterday, I used my photographic super power to take a picture of this:

What’s your super power?  Do you have more than one? Are you so super modest that it’s difficult to own your super powers?

Here’s a super incomplete list of my super powers:

1. Taking pictures (see above).
2. Blogging daily.
3. Facilitating group healing.
4. Coming up with new ideas.
5. Finding cool socks.

I recently told a  super co-worker that helping a patient find a psychiatrist was NOT one of my super powers. I’m super secure that it’s super helpful to be aware and accepting of our super powers AND our limitations.

Speaking of limitations, I recently had the super idea that I stop using the super-judgmental  label “stupid” about myself or anybody else and use the superior word “limited” instead.

Do you see any super powers in my other super snapshots from yesterday?

 

 

 

We think you deserve a treat, no matter what your super powers or limitations. I shall now attempt to find a super treat on YouTube for my super readers.

There’s a super number of videos on YouTube asking and perhaps answering the question, “What’s your super power?”  However, I’d rather share some super music like Super Stevie Wonder’s “Superstitious” and “Superwoman.”

I hope you use your super power of making comments, below.

It’s time to use my super power of expressing thanks to all those who helped me create today’s post and — of course! — YOU.  And I shall use my super powers to get back here as quickly as possible.

Day 2007: Don’t Look Back

Don’t look back at my recent posts, or you might see this:

Don’t slavishly obey people who tell you what to do or not to do.  Look back if you want to — you might see something important.

When I look back at yesterday, I see all these things, looking back.

 

 

When I look back, I see beauty, clouds, benevolence, sympathy, fear, worry, my son Aaron, his friend Cameron, books, bunnies, and Boston.

What do you see when you look back?

Here‘s Boston telling us “Don’t Look Back.”

When I looked back at YouTube just now,  this was playing after “Don’t Look Back.”

I look forward to looking back at whatever comments there are for this “Don’t Look Back” post.

Don’t look back at my blog if you don’t want to see gratitude looking back at you.

 

 

Day 2002: What gives you a lift?

In times like these,  it’s important to ask the question “What gives you a lift?”

What gives me a lift includes a visit to Chicago,

sunshine, being near the water,

urban parks,

liberty,

freedom of the press,

 

Edinburgh, Scotland (which I’m visiting again with my son in August), good public transportation,

Lyft drivers who have candy for their passengers,

sand sculptures,

embracing that it’s my time to fly, and most of all, coming home.

My friend Dave guarantees that watching this will give me a lift:

 

It did!  I’m sure your comments will give me a lift, too.

Gratitude, as always, gives me a lift. Thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and — of course! — to YOU.

 

Day 1737: It’s too much to process

“It’s too much to process”  is something I hear people say, in my therapy groups and elsewhere.

“It’s too much to even process” is something Jimmy Kimmel said in his monologue last night about the Las Vegas mass shooting:

What do you do when it’s too much to process?  Do you cry, like Jimmy Kimmel did?  Is it numbing, a word Conan O’Brien used in his monologue about the largest mass shooting in U.S. history?

Do you ask, “How could this happen?” as Conan did there?  Do you say, “It makes no sense to me”? “Something needs to change”?  “I am truly heartbroken”?

When it’s too much to process, do you try to somehow make meaning of what’s happened? Do you try to get people to see things your way?  Do you get angry? Do you give up? Do you take action? Do you try to block things from your mind?  Do you distract yourself any way you can? Do you look for the good in people? Do you isolate? Do you blame? Do you pray?   Do you look for any humor you can find, for moments of relief?

Here are more (usually) humorous people responding to the same  too-much-to-process mass shooting:

It’s too much to process that Tom Petty is dead at age 66.

What do you do when it’s too much to process?

When it’s too much to process, I reach out to others.

I’m reaching out to you, here and now.

Feel free to process in a comment, below.

Thanks to all for processing with me today.