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?
” Routine is very important for well-being, so … write a list of people and activities that lift your spirits; be sure to prioritize time for connecting with others and doing things you enjoy every day.” — Tania Diggory, founder of Calmer.”
… we can also reconnect with those hobbies and relaxation techniques that don’t require a screen — reading, taking a bath, gardening, listening to music, playing music, journaling, writing, arts and crafts, cooking new recipes, stroking your pet, daydreaming … so much to savor and enjoy.” — Kat Hounsell, founder of everyday people.
“Personally, I’m sticking to what has worked for me in the past when I want to be calm — for example, learning and practicing simple relaxation techniques, like breathing exercises, muscle relaxation, mindfulness [and] meditation [which] can all be very helpful in alleviating mental distress.” — Dr. Hans Kluge
Most of these issues and coping strategies came up in my Coping and Healing online group yesterday, which included one member theorizing that the pandemic was caused by a conspiracy of house cats, who want us to be home more. Several cats were attending the group (including Oscar) and none of the cats denied it.
Do you see any coping strategies in my recent photos?
I think letting go of self-judgment, guilt, shame, and worry are important coping strategies, especially during a pandemic.
For a limited time only, as part of Ailey All Access, you’re getting access to watch Alvin Ailey’s ‘Revelations’ in its in entirety from your own home. We hope this rare opportunity brings you a moment of joy during these uncertain times.
Please share your coping strategies during a pandemic in the comments section, below.
Gratitude is always a coping strategy for me, so thanks to all who help me create this daily blog, including YOU.
Today, my answer to my own question — “what’s the worst thing that anybody ever called you” — is “Incapable.”
I am capable of admitting that I AM incapable in many areas, including
getting enough sleep,
knowing things before I have a chance to learn them,
having a poker face,
cooking as well as my boyfriend Michael,
keeping my desk neat and organized,
wrapping presents beautifully,
understanding how dogs think,
ignoring cats,
giving up hope for humanity, and
stopping my busy mind,
but I still think that “incapable” is the worst thing anybody has ever called me.
Three and a half years ago, when I wrote Day 867: Difficult — which had a list of every unkind label people had called me that I was capable of remembering up to that point — I was incapable of including “incapable” on that list. However, now that somebody HAS called me “incapable,” I am more capable of realizing that I have harshly and unfairly labeled myself “incapable” whenever I’ve made mistakes.
Also, even though nobody called me “incapable” until recently, I got the message I was incapable when I entered 7th grade of a public Junior High School. The administrators there decided that, because of my heart condition, I was incapable of keeping up with the smartest kids in the class. I eventually proved that I was not as incapable as they thought, when I became class Valedictorian senior year.
As I’m writing about “incapable,” here and now, I am capable of letting go of that unhelpful label. Instead, I am focusing on the ways I am capable, which include the capability to take pictures and share them here.
I am not incapable of telling stories in rhyme, including this one:
I am not incapable of expressing my gratitude to all who helped me create this “Incapable” post and — of course! — YOU, for being capable of reading it.
What’s wrong with me, that I keep writing posts with similar titles?
What’s wrong with me, that I feel the need to link to those past posts here, here, and here?
What’s wrong with me, that when I read posts I wrote when I was dealing with so many health problems, I cry?
What’s wrong with me, that I’m having so much trouble sleeping as we prepare to move?
What’s wrong with me, that when I write these blog posts, I have to close one eye to see better, unless I’m wearing my glasses?
What’s wrong with me, that I don’t immediately put on my glasses when I start writing these posts?
What’s wrong with me, that I keep catastrophizing about what’s going to go wrong with the move and with our new place?
What’s wrong with me, that I second guess so many of my decisions, including those I’ve made so far in writing this post?
What’s wrong with me, that I’ve taken to heart some critical comments one person made about my writing when I was in college, which I rediscovered when I was going through old papers in the basement?
What’s wrong with me, that I always share photos I took the day before?
What’s wrong with me, that I’ve saved old get-well cards and my son’s old Halloween costumes, like when he dressed up as static cling?
What’s wrong with me, that I try to include relevant music in my posts? What’s wrong with me, that I thought the title of this song was “(What’s wrong with) Peace Love and Understanding?”
What’s wrong with peace, love, and understanding? Nothing.
What’s wrong with ending every post with gratitude, when I’m so grateful to all who help me create these posts and to my readers, too? And I hope you know there’s nothing wrong with you (or with me). ❤
Whenever I facilitate a therapy group, I write all the themes I notice up on the board. Because the discussion is always so rich, the themes I don’t miss will cover the entire board, from top to bottom and side to side. Then, I ask the group, “What’s missing?”
Yesterday, when I asked that question, one of the group members did not hesitate to respond: “Love.” I didn’t miss the opportunity to add “love” to the themes I’d already written on the board.
What’s missing from that photo? Dozens of other themes we discussed yesterday in that therapy group.
What’s missing from this post? Perhaps my other photos from yesterday?
What’s missing from those photos? Captions?
What’s missing for me is an explanation of this photo:
That was an assignment I gave somebody (and myself) yesterday: Whenever you imagine that people are angry at you, visualize that angry face changing into a neutral face. What’s missing for many people is the ability to reality-test their fears that other people are having negative reactions to them.
For me, it’s this: Since I’ll be missing six weeks of work when I go out on medical leave starting September 17, I have not missed opportunities to discuss with my patients how missing people can affect them.
What else is missing from this post?
Gratitude, of course, to all those who helped me create this what’s-missing post and to you, especially, for not being among the missing, today.
Greetings from the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, which has been defying convention for sixty-nine years.
I often follow certain conventions in my blog posts, including choosing a title that relates to a photo I’ve taken the day before. Obviously, I am NOT defying that convention today. However, I’d like to think I’ve been defying convention for almost as long as the Edinburgh Fringe (five and a half years shorter, if I do the maths).
Here are some conventions I defy:
Fearing people who are “different” from me.
Assumptions about how long people born with abnormal hearts (like me) are supposed to live.
Slowing down as I get older.
Judging myself or others.
What conventions do you defy?
Do you see any conventions defied in my other photos from yesterday?
I am unfamiliar with the conventions of shows like The Lady Boys of Bangkok, so I don’t know if they were defying any conventions last night by having people dressed like cats on stage or by using this song as the finale:
If you don’t usually leave a comment, please defy that convention today. If sharing your thoughts here is conventional for you, I suggest you do not defy that convention today.
Many thanks to all who helped me create this defying convention post and to you — of course! — for reading it.
Don’t talk to yourself about this post; instead, share that self-talk in a comment.
I talk to myself all the time about how grateful I am to have this blog. Today is no exception! Talk to yourselves, please, about how much I appreciate you for visiting here today.
Rather than use the words “waitress” and “waiter” these days, I often use the term “wait people.”
You don’t have to wait, people, for me to tell you why. I tend to avoid gender specific labels, like waitress.
If you want more examples of that, you don’t have long to wait, people. Instead of saying “Chairmen,” I’ll say “Chair People.”
You don’t have to wait, people, for me to show you two pictures I took last night, which “Chair People” is now bringing to mind:
Chairs AND people, right?
My posts are like the New England weather. If you want them to change, just wait, people. And you don’t need to wait, people, for some more photos from yesterday.
That’s the first photo I took yesterday, after some people waited to see me for therapy. I saw that at the hospital gift shop, where there’s often a short wait, people. If you want me to explain exactly what a “Littlest Red Sox Fan Den” is, you’ve got a long time to wait, people.
People I work with in therapy sometimes wait, people, before letting go of unhelpful, critical, and judgmental things other people have said about them — like “She is taking up too much space.” Yesterday, people waited no more and let go of some of those internalized, toxic messages. Why wait, people?
Wait, people! I usually don’t swear in these posts, but that was a helpful phrase for a person I waited for in therapy, yesterday.
Good health care is not something people should wait for, people.
Those waiting for fall around here don’t have too much longer to wait, people.
Bostonians need to wait, people, for reasonably priced parking for events. If you ask me what event people were waiting for at Fenway Park last night, you have a long time to wait, people. But wait, people! Our friendly fellow-blogger Mark Bialczak might look that up and tell us, after a short wait.
Speaking of reasonably priced parking, last night I found a free parking space in Harvard Square without a wait, people! I went to Harvard Square to see this new musical.
take several adult education classes, including percussion, jazz theory, cartooning, and “Stand Up Comedy” with Ron Lynch (and if you can’t wait, people, to read more posts about Ron Lynch, see here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here).
I rarely wait, people, to get chocolate or to connect with sweet people.
That’s Lina. She was kind enough, as she waiting on me, to tell me she took the job at L.A. Burdick in Harvard Square because “I like the way people talk about chocolate here.” As I was waiting for her to ring up my purchases, I took this photo:
and said to Lina, “I’m always taking photos for my blog.” Lina didn’t wait to say this, “That’s the way art works.”
I didn’t wait, people, to eat the chocolate Lina sold me …
… while I was waiting for Waitress to begin.
After I saw Waitress, I couldn’t wait, people, to see my boyfriend Michael, who was waiting for me in Harvard Square after helping his brother wait on people for five long days. While I was waiting for Michael last night, I took pictures of places we waited and where wait people had waited on us on our first date, five years ago:
Wait, people! There’s one more thing I want to say, before I publish this Wait People post.
Tonight, after five months of planning and 45 years of some people waiting to see each other, I’m going to my high school reunion.
No more wait, people!
I won’t wait, people, to thank all those people who made this post possible. And special thanks to you — of course! — for waiting, people, for the end of this post.
Do you ever get stuck in a behavior, a feeling, or a thought? Do you ever repeat patterns of acting or thinking you KNOW are neither positive nor helpful?
If you answered “yes,” you are NOT alone in your stuck-ness.
If you answered “no,” could you let the rest of us know how you stick to being unstuck?
Here’s why I’m stuck thinking about getting unstuck today:
Tomorrow I go back to work helping others get unstuck in their lives, after two weeks of being wonderfully unstuck from my regular routines, on vacation.
One article I read while in Social Work graduate school — that has stuck with me for decades — suggested that all mental/behavioral health diagnoses could be replaced with a single, one-word diagnosis: “Stuck.”
While I’ve made a lot of progress in my own life, I still get stuck in certain ways of thinking, reacting, and behaving I KNOW are unhelpful, outdated, and automatic.
Let’s stick to the title of this post — “Getting Unstuck.” How do those of us who know we get stuck start unsticking from old, unhelpful habits of thinking and behaving?
What’s one thing you’ve learned in your life about getting unstuck, even temporarily?
Stick with that question, for a moment. What memories, images, or other associations about getting unstuck are sticking with you, now? If you stick any of those in a comment here, you might help others get unstuck, too.
Because I’m stuck with that promise I made to share something I have learned, in my long life, about getting unstuck, here it is:
When you feel stuck, get in touch with your experience and your intuition and do ONE THING differently. Then, notice the other changes that one simple change creates.
With all of you as my witnesses, I now pledge to do one thing differently when I return to work tomorrow. In order to get unstuck from old and unhelpful post-vacation habits, I am going to consciously allow the many wonderful feelings, thoughts, and images from eight glorious days in Edinburgh, Scotland to stick around, for a long time.
We’ll see how long I can stick with that.
If I had brought my Scottish walking stick back with me to U.S., perhaps that stick would help me stick to sustaining and change-inspiring memories of freedom, creativity, beauty, and growth. However, I left that stick behind on the streets of Edinburgh, stuck with the hope that walking stick might help somebody else — who might need support — move forward through that cobble-stoned city.
Because I have no pictures of that stick, I’ll stick to other images, old and new:
What music might help us all stick to those things that help us get unstuck in our lives?
