Here’s a definition of “relish” (for those who relish such things).
Here and now, I relish being alive and well 59 years after my unexpected heart surgery on the same day that President John F. Kennedy was killed. I definitely do not relish what happened on that day, but I’ve learned to relish many, many precious moments since.
Do you see relish in my images for today?
Today, on National Cranberry Relish Day, I shall do my best to relish every moment. I also relish the progress I’ve made over my 10 years of blogging (click here for the post I wrote on November 22, 2013).
Here’s what I find when I search YouTube for “relish.”
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I relish all who make my life better, including YOU!
I could have named this blog post differently but I didn’t. I should have enough experience after blogging daily for almost 10 years to know that the title doesn’t make or break a post.
I could have written a different opening paragraph, but that one is good enough.
Yesterday, in a therapy group, I told people that today was National Toss Away the “Could Haves” and “Should Haves” Day. I could have said more but I didn’t need to, because we often talk about tossing away unhelpful thoughts in order to live more in the moment.
Do you see any “could haves” or “should haves” in my images for today?
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I could have gotten my first dog last year but instead I chose to adopt Joan. No regrets.
This is what I find on YouTube when I search for “could haves and should haves.”
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I could and should express gratitude to all those who help me blog every day, including YOU!
Yesterday, because there’s just one of me and I had so many things to do, I took just one photo.
I shall take just one moment to explain just one photo: Asking just one question beginning with “What was your intent when …?” can be a helpful and effective way to respond, when just one person says just one thing you find puzzling, upsetting, or concerning.
I will give just one example of that:
Somebody: You look terrible.
Response: What was your intent when you said that?
I made just one mistake there — I remembered the title of “Just a Song Before I Go” as “Just One Song Before I Go.”
It took me just one second to forgive myself for that.
Just one comment from YouTube about that song:
“The Crosby, Stills, and Nash song “Just a Song Before I Go” was written on a dare by their limo driver that they couldn’t write a song before getting to the airport. It went on to become one of their biggest hits.”
Just one quote from that song:
Travelling twice the speed of sound
It’s easy to get burned
Because Crosby Still and Nash sing just one verse more than just one time, I think that’s just one piece of advice I’m going to take today.
What’s that just one piece of advice I’m going to take? Just two words:
Slow down
What’s just one thing you’d like to say about this post? If you leave just one comment, I’ll leave just one response later in the day.
It bugs me that the two plants in my office — where I do individual and group psychotherapy — have bugs.
It probably doesn’t bug you that you can’t see those bugs, a/k/a soil gnats. It bugs me that I’ve been trying for weeks to get rid of those bugs, which look like tiny fruit flies, to no avail.
It bugs me that I bought this “natural” bug spray at Whole Foods Market:
…and when I tried to use it, according to directions …
… that resulted in …
… buggy directions I couldn’t read, at all.
It bugs me when I can’t follow directions, no matter how hard I try.
It bugs me that what I could read in the directions — including many warnings about usage for bugs — indicated that Anti-Pest-O might bug eyes, lungs and other parts of non-bugs. So, I decided to bug neither my patients nor myself and I did not spray that bug spray in my buggy office.
It bugs me when I can’t use a product that others have bugged me to buy. It bugs me to have to return ANYTHING to any store, buggy or otherwise.
It bugs me that spraying the bugs with soapy water (not pictured) hasn’t worked, despite my being bugged by promises that it would. It bugs me a lot less to battle bugs with something as benign and straightforward as soapy water, but those bugs have seemed totally unbugged (and perhaps a tad brightened) when I’ve bugged them with soapy water.
It bugs me that once I allow myself to be bugged, lots of other things can bug me, too.
For example, litter left behind by buggy Bostonians bugged me yesterday.
Buggy marketing schemes and slogans bugged me, too.
Other directions I couldn’t understand bugged me.
Things that slowed me down bugged me (and others).
Yes, I can be cross here, there, and everywhere, when I’m feeling bugged.
Would it bug you if I listed even more things that can bug me, if I’m in a bugged mood?
Not being able to photographically capture a big, yellow, beautiful moon.
Not understanding how to perfectly operate new technology (including phones and cars).
My inability to portray our cat Harley sitting unbugged on a table, because he always gets bugged and jumps off (the little bugger).
Somebody wearing a graphic t-shirt, one buggy day after declaring he’s bugged by them.
Buggy parking rules, around here.
Things that make loud noises, like buggy construction projects.
Difficult thoughts and feelings that bug people I treat.
People I love to bug leaving (not pictured), like my wonderful and esteemed co-worker Mary, this week.
My not being a good baker and therefore needing to end this blog post early, to pick up sweets for a going-away party for Mary today.
Having to leave work early today to bug my dentist about some fillings that have been bugging me.
My sleep apnea machine, with yet another mask that’s been bugging me.
Having so many cardiac-related tests and appointments scheduled for tomorrow afternoon at a hospital (where they treat lots of different types of bugs), that several doctors, medical technicians and I will be bugging each other for about four hours.
Getting bugged by buggily insignificant decisions, like which sign-in book to use at a 45th high school reunion (which might include bugs, because it’s near the ocean).
The automatic and painful assumption that I bug other people, when I really don’t.
After all this bugging, maybe it’s time to de-bug this bug-filled blog post.
One of my patients did NOT bug me, yesterday, when she brought in this:
If you can’t read all those 18 rules of living by the Dalai Lama, please don’t bug me too much about that. I photographed them the best I could, at the end of a long and buggy day.
If anything in this post has bugged you in any way, please bug me about that in a comment, below.
Buggy and bugged thanks to all bugs and humans that helped me write this post and special thanks to you, no matter what bugs — or is bugged by — you, at any time.
Yesterday, I met with a very interesting person who, interestingly enough, feels uninteresting. Feeling uninteresting causes this person to avoid interacting with other people, for fear of being seen and judged as not interesting.
It’s interesting to me how many interesting people suffer from these kinds of fears. I, as an interested psychotherapist, am very interested in helping people reduce the interestingly common cognitive distortion of labeling themselves
uninteresting,
unworthy,
unlovable, and
other harsh, judgmental, painful and interestingly destructive adjectives.
Therefore, I gave this interesting person two interesting prescriptions yesterday, of different strengths:
Here are some other interesting photos I took during my interesting yesterday.
Which photo did you find most interesting? I was most interested in the last one. I was so interested in it, I had the interesting plan of giving this interesting post today the interesting title of “No Title.”
I find it interesting how my iPhone — on which I write these interesting posts — recognized the interesting word “agley.” My phone is more interesting than I realized.
Interested in what interesting music I might choose for this interesting post?
Here‘s the interesting tune that was playing in my interestingly yellow Honda Fit when I took that last interesting photo:
That interestingly reminds me that I should probably go on a grapefruit diet before my high school reunion, which is sure to be interesting, next month.
As always, I am interested in what you find damn interesting about this post.
Interesting and interested thanks to all the interesting people who helped me create this interesting post and to you — interestingly enough — for being interested enough to read it.
a lot lately, as I’ve been doing my best to let go of scary, health-threatening experiences that were falling into place in my life, starting in November of last year.
Since May, when an Implantable Cardiac Device fell into place in my heart, I’ve been gradually falling into a place of hope about the future.
Now that Michael’s oft-repeated phrase
Everything’s falling into place
has fallen into place in my blog, I’m wondering what Michael means, exactly, when he says those words, a smile falling into place on his face.
For example,
What are these things that are falling?
Where is this place they are falling into?
Will they break when they land?
I can’t ask Michael those questions (because he’s fallen into a place of slumber) but this is falling into place for me: Question #3 , which fell into place above, reflects how catastrophizing — and other automatic cognitive distortions — can so easily fall into place in the human mind.
Do unhelpful, fearful, and unnecessary thoughts fall into place, sometimes, in your mind?
If so, let them fall into place where they belong:
The trash.
Let’s see if any other photos fall into place, in this post.
Lots of chocolate candies have fallen into place in that display case.
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Two pieces of candy and coin have fallen into place on that countertop.
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Harley has fallen into place on that rug, which — if my memory is falling into place correctly — also has fallen into place somewhere in the home of WordPresser Diana Schwenk.
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Oscar seems glad that some water has fallen into place in his dish.
Because I was so busy, yesterday, making sure that informational messages about my 45th high school reunion were falling into place for my classmates, no other photos fell into place on my phone.
However, here‘s some music that falls into place, right now:
The Beatles song “I’ve Just Seen a Face” fell into place quite nicely there, don’t you agree?
Which parts of this post fell into place for you?
My thanks are now falling into place for Michael, my Implantable Cardiac Device, our cats, chocolate, the Beatles, the Loading Dock, and faces I like to see, including yours!
In my work as a group therapist, I witness those painfully negative circles of thought in others — over and over again, around and around.
Because of criticism, self-doubt, and disappointment, I — like any other human being — can get temporarily stuck in the painful circles of Negative Filter, too.
Yesterday morning, after reading about some particularly upsetting circles of injustice in the news, my mind got stuck in negative circles, again.
Then, on my walk to work, a tune I dearly love — First Circle by The Pat Metheny Group — circled through my ears and into my circulating mind.
(That live version of “First Circle” is circling beautifully here on YouTube. And don’t click the rectangular button in the middle of the screen, or you’ll have to circle back to listen to the rest of the music.)
That familiar, wonderful music was enough to nudge my mind out of the painful, repetitive circles of Negative Filter.
I immediately noticed — and captured — the first circle I saw:
From then on, noticing non-negative circles helped me help others who were stuck in their own negative circles of thoughts and feelings.
That circle — of group therapy hand-outs on the floor of my office — demonstrates what happens when a group therapist forgets to press the circular “collate” button on a new, rapidly circling copy machine.
The water in that circle-filled bottle helped sustain me through that circular ordeal.
After completing the circle of a 10-hour work day — witnessing many people support each other in getting out of negative thinking circles — I noticed all these circles, too:
What circles are you noticing , now?
Circles of thanks to Pat Metheny, Lyle Mays, and the rest of the Pat Metheny Group, to all the people who sat around in circles of supportive group therapy yesterday, and to every circle I saw around the Fenway Park area of Boston and around my non-circular home. Also, special circular thanks to you — of course! — for circling your way here, today.
I don’t know about you, but I tend to think that I’m in trouble, even when I’m not.
For example, am I in trouble for including this picture of my son Aaron?
When I saw Aaron put that “Day of Silence #SpeakWithSilence” sticker on his forehead before he left for school yesterday, I asked if I could take his photo, and he agreed. However, I did NOT ask Aaron if I could put the photo in my blog. So, am I in trouble?
Also, am I in trouble or am I troubled that Aaron is leaving home for 10 days in Italy, starting today?
Was I in trouble yesterday morning, because of lots of unexpected traffic on my way into work?
Whenever there’s traffic, I can easily think I’m in trouble. Also, I am troubled by troubling “shoulds” like
I should have know better and left home earlier.
Am I in trouble for thinking those thoughts or for taking those photos?
Whenever I write one of these daily posts, there’s a point (like now) where I ask myself
Am I in trouble?
… regarding making this a good enough post, for myself and my readers. Then, I let go of troubling thoughts about my blogging capabilities, as I practice letting go of judgmental and other unhelpful thoughts, everywhere .
Am I in trouble because, after several years of using the iPhone, I’m still not used to the touchscreen keyboard and I still make a troubling amount of mistakes when writing these posts?
Sometimes, I am troubled just by the possibility of a mistake, even though I tend to catch most of them.
Am I In trouble because I took these pictures on my way to work yesterday?
Does my co-worker Jan look like she’s in trouble, as she’s telling me about some trouble she’s having trying to ship presents for a surprise party in Mexico?
Am I in trouble for taking that photo of Jan or for taking this one of her, later?
I told Jan that photo reminded me of most of the photos I take of my boyfriend Michael.
Am I in trouble for saying that? I think not, since Michael rarely reads this blog.
Am I in trouble for including these other photos I took yesterday, at the hospital where I work?
Am I in trouble for sharing those last two photos of Laura — a very talented therapist I supervise? I know I’m not, because Laura knew I was taking them for this blog. Laura is such a nice, non-troubling person that she told me that I would not be in any trouble with her, no matter what I did with those photos.
Am I in trouble because I took these photos before the baseball game at Fenway Park yesterday, and I didn’t get permission from anybody in them?
Were any of those people in trouble, because they were so friggin’ close to the shuttle bus I was in?
Am I in trouble because I’m getting a St. Jude Medical CRT ICD device implanted in less than three weeks, especially since the web page calls it a “Heart Failure ICD”?
Actually, I think there’s a chance that device might get me out of trouble.
Am I in trouble with you, for creating such a long post?
I hope Joni Mitchell isn’t in too much trouble, right now.
What do you think of all the trouble in this post?
You might be in trouble if you don’t leave behind a comment, but I doubt it.
One final question: Am I in trouble because it’s tax day in the USA?
Answer: I’ll live.
Non-troubled and (I hope) untroubling thanks to Aaron, Jan, Michael, Laura, Joni, St. Jude, people who work and play in the Fenway Park area of Boston, all those who stand up bravely for important issues no matter how much trouble that means, and to you — of course! — for taking the trouble to visit here today.
Do you change your life?
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 
