Very rarely, I look at all the images I’ve gathered during a 24-hour period and have trouble coming up with an underlying or overlying theme. When that happens, I turn to my readers and ask “What’s the theme of this post?”
Who wants to play?
Maybe the theme today is “favorite things”?
In case that’s a possibility, here’s John Coltrane playing “My Favorite Things.”
What do you think the theme of this post is? There are no wrong answers, so please leave a comment, below.
One overlying or underlying theme in all my posts is gratitude, so thanks to all who help me blog every day, including YOU.
letting you know I’ve never written a “Responsibilities” post before,
facilitating two Coping and Healing groups at work, and
sharing my photos from yesterday (which has recently become more difficult, for some unknown reason, and I don’t know if WordPress or my laptop are responsible).
My responsibilities, here and now, include telling you that “Responsibilities” was the topic chosen by yesterday’s Coping and Healing group, and that this is what I wrote in response to the question “What is your personal experience of responsibilities?”
I can be over responsible, which can get in the way of enjoying the present moment. “What do I have to do right now?” “Nothing except be here, now, as best I can.” I am going to ask myself that question, with that answer, more often.
What is your personal experience of responsibilities?
I have a few more blogging responsibilities right now: inviting you to be kind,
sharing this photo of Michael’s delicious chicken parmesan from last night,
I have always depended on the kindness of strangers — in hospitals, in unfamiliar territories, and elsewhere. And it’s strange how often strangers have been kind, even though we’re taught to fear strangers.
Yesterday, a kind and compassionate teabag removed the sadness of my world.
Let me be kind and compassionate to remove the sadness of the world, as best I can, with this story:
When I was at cardiac rehab yesterday morning, feeling the sadness of the world, a guy (who had been kind and compassionate to me the week before) teased another guy there, like so: “You lift weights like a girl!” I immediately said, “Is that still an insult?”
Was that kind and compassionate?
When it became obvious to me that my new pacemaker/defibrillator was not being kind and compassionate to my heart while I was exercising, I decided to leave cardiac rehab early. I said to the guy, “I’m leaving, but it’s not because of what you said.” He replied, “Hey! I’m doing my best, you know. I used to be a truck driver. I’m evolving!” I said, “We’re all evolving.”
Was that kind and compassionate?
To me, it felt like it removed some of the sadness of the world.
Soon after that, my kind and compassionate doctor, Mark Estes, removed the sadness of my world by reprogramming my pacemaker/defibrillator and by giving me more hope about my future. We also talked a little about the sadness of the world, which felt kind and compassionate.
Let us be kind and compassionate with my other photos from yesterday:
Do those remove any sadness from your world?
Here‘s the kind and compassionate music removing the sadness of my world, here and now:
Will you be kind and compassionate and remove the sadness of the world with a comment?
Let me be kind and compassionate, thanking all who helped me create this post and you — of course! — for bringing your kindness and compassion to my world, today.
What kind of tea bag would tell you to practice kind listening and kind speaking?
A kind and practical one.
I try to practice kind listening and kind speaking in my job as a group and individual therapist. I think kind speaking is the finest kind and so is kind listening, although I wonder if people can tell I’m listening kindly.
Yesterday, I announced at a team meeting at work that this is my last week before my six-week medical leave, and people there listened and spoke kindly, which made me cry. That reminds me of a post I wrote my first year of blogging, very soon after the Boston Marathon bombing, called Kindness can make me cry, even harder.If you like reading that kind of post, please be kind enough to click on the link in the previous sentence.
During a day of kind listening and kind speaking, I took these kinds of photos:
Because my friend Deb was kind enough to give me a ticket, we both listened to and performed all kinds of amazing tunes at a Hamilton sing-along last night. Here and here are two kind versions of my favorite kind of song to sing from Hamilton.
Gotta run for more kind listening and kind speaking at work today. If you are kind enough to speak your mind in a comment, I shall practice kind listening.
For all the kind people who helped me create today’s post and for you and your kindness in visiting my blog today, here’s another kind of photo: