What is there to celebrate on a day like today, when Putin is invading Ukraine and some people in the USA are supporting him?
I celebrate every day that I’m above ground, and I’m celebrating that my cardiologist, Dr. Salem (who I saw yesterday for my yearly echocardiogram and checkup) expects that I’ll be celebrating many more days in the future.
Because I can hold more than one feeling, I am celebrating my good fortune while also feeling sadness, anger, and fear about the invasion of Ukraine and about other terrible situations in our shared, precious world.
Can you see anything to celebrate in my photos for today?
There’s always something to celebrate, even when our hearts are breaking.
This is what I find when I search for “what is there to celebrate?” on YouTube.
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I celebrate my connection to you and thank you for being here, now.
Predicting the future is difficult for us humans to resist.
In my therapy groups, we talk about recognizing and letting go of the common cognitive distortion of fortune-telling. When we catch ourselves predicting the future (which happens every group), we remind ourselves that we are NOT psychic.
And yet, every person I know predicts the future in one way or another. It’s as if uncertainty is more uncomfortable than deciding what’s going to happen like we know for certain. Which we don’t.
Since the beginning of this New Year, my husband Michael and I have been trying not to predict the future. Ha! My prediction is that we will keep predicting, no matter how we consciously try not to.
Last night, we watched a movie that seemed very good, I thought, at predicting the future — Don’t Look Up.
After we watched it, I, of course, tried predicting the future, by saying this to Michael:
I think that movie might help people realize what’s going on and make things better for the future.
Would anybody like to predict what Michael said or did in response to that?
He rolled his eyes.
Because certain things always happen in this blog, it’s safe predicting the future if you predict the appearance of my latest images.
I’m predicting a future where somebody on Twitter will bitch about my posting the National Days there, which I do every day.
Sometimes our experience of the past leads to better predictions, but not always! For example, I’m holding out hope that the U.S. midterms elections won’t follow the patterns of the past. If they do, I’ll be trying hard not to predict a very bleak future ahead.
I’m predicting that some of you will leave comments below.
Did anybody predict what song I’m going to include today?
Whether or not you predicted it, there’s gratitude in your immediate future.
Personally, when I (1) receive anxiety-provoking emails, (2) encounter salespeople, or (3) need some sort of repair service, I can easily ask myself “Is this a scam?” It’s not a scam for me to tell you that I think about scams often and with increasing frequency.
On the other hand, some people seem to wonder if I am a scam. I notice that especially on social media.
Well, with all the confusion, distrust, and lack of control we are experiencing these days, if you wonder “Is this a scam?” you are definitely not alone.
Is this a scam for me to share these images with you today?
People might wonder “Is this a scam?” about those National Days. For example, is somebody trying to sell me date nut bread today?
If you search YouTube for “Is this a scam?” you’ll find many videos, including this one:
It’s not a scam for me to ask for comments, below, or for me to express gratitude to you!
Before the pandemic hit, I made this button for a patient (who was dealing with a judgmental family member) and for myself:
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Yesterday, I asked this question on Twitter:
I was pleased to see that people had many responses, including
lies,
gun violence,
racism,
misogynists,
homophobes,
excuses,
hate,
judgment,
disrespect,
wars,
injustice,
stupidity,
bullies, and
beets.
Some people replied that their button would simply say “PLEASE NO.” I can definitely relate to that, especially when I’m feeling so overwhelmed I have trouble pleasing anyone.
It’s occurring to me, here and now, that the button could also read “PLEASE NO ONE MORE THAN YOURSELF.”
Please no applause until the end, as I share my other images for today.
On Thanksgiving Day in the USA, many people consider who and what they’re grateful for.
Yesterday, on Twitter, I asked this question;
I’m going to answer my own question, which is only fair. The people who are grateful for me (I assume) include
family members,
friends,
patients,
strangers I’ve been kind to,
Twitter followers, and
my blog readers.
I am grateful for you, my dear readers, and I gently request, here and now, that you consider who is grateful for you. If you can let go of fears about asking yourself that question, I think it’s helpful to embrace the possibility that you might be inspiring more gratitude than you suspect.
I am grateful for your attention to today’s images.
This is what I find on YouTube when I search for “who is grateful for you?”
On November 22, 1963, I had my first heart operation, got my first cardiac pacemaker, and got a promise from my mother that I could get my first cat.
Two days later, while I was dealing with many physical and emotional wounds, I found out that President John F. Kennedy, whom I loved and admired, had been assassinated on November 22.
Since that day, November 22 has always been an important anniversary for me. Often, I get depressed and anxious, and I’m relieved when the day is over.
Today, I’m just grateful to be alive and well, 58 years later.
Here are my images for November 22, 2021:
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On my walk yesterday, I was listening to the sounds of nature and the music from Hadestown, which I’m still hearing in my head, here and now, on November 22.
What are your thoughts and feelings about November 22?
Thanks to all who have helped me make it to this November 22, including YOU.
Let’s get some perspective, here and now, by starting off with a definition of “perspective.”
Last night — when my son Aaron, my husband Michael, and I returned to an old, familiar haunt of ours with new perspectives — I made sure to take photos of a mural that has very unusual perspective.
I have such fond memories of seeing that mural from the perspective of our much younger selves. Last night, Michael and Aaron remarked that these two …
… evoked Michael and his twin brother.
My perspective is that I love that mural and everyone observing it last night. And Wild Willie’s Burgers has a new perspective since we were last there: they now offer more vegetarian options.
What perspective do you bring to my other images for today?
My son and I are in New York City now. The last time I was in New York City, in March 2020, I was attending a group therapy conference, which was the week before everything closed down here. Several of us attending that conference then, including me, got COVID.
That was then, this is now.
Last night, Aaron and I went to Junior’s, the restaurant I went to every day then, during the week-long March 2020 group therapy conference. After I discovered I had COVID, I texted my server Rhys (who I had put in my blog back then) …
… with concern, telling him I had COVID and wondering if he was okay. He was fine, but he and everybody else at Junior’s had been laid off then, as everything in NYC had closed down.
That was then …
… this is now.
When I was here in March 2020, I took photos of the Ed Sullivan Theatre then because I love Stephen Colbert.
That was then, this is now, when I have a ticket to see the Late Show with Stephen Colbert during this trip.
Do you see then and now in my other images for today?
My TED talk about then and now might be titled “Everything Old Is New Again.” And there’s no way I’m checking my wipers now — my car is back in Boston because we took the train. And I never eat fast food, then or now, when I’m in New York City!
Last night, when I was looking forward to my last day of work before my vacation, I posted this on Twitter:
I’m looking forward to facilitating a therapy group today and going to New York City on Monday with my son Aaron. I’m also looking forward to seeing the Sondheim musical Company and Late Night with Stephen Colbert in NYC.
I’m looking forward to sharing these images with you today.
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Now I’m looking forward to pizza and chicken soup for the soul. What’s something you’re looking forward to?
I found this when I searched YouTube for “what’s something you’re looking forward to”:
I look forward to a day when I don’t worry so much about grammar.
I’m looking forward to your comment about this post!
I hope you look forward to my gratitude, because I really appreciate YOU!
We’ve all had transformative experiences — events that fundamentally change us.
Last month, I had a conversation about these transformative experiences with my son Aaron. He defined these experiences as demarcation points, where you know that you were different before and after they occurred. He could identify one transformative experience in his life so far and I could identify two in mine — one of which was his arrival on this earth 23 years ago. (The other was my first heart surgery at age 10 on November 22, 1963 — the day President Kennedy was assassinated.)
Apparently, I have provided a sort of transformative experience for some of my clients. My annual review, which I saw yesterday, quotes people saying that therapy with me has been “life changing.” That felt transformative to me.
I don’t expect that looking at the images in today’s blog will be a transformative experience, but who knows?
I think our new cat Joan’s arrival has been a transformative experience for Harley. Here’s Joan …
… still waiting for the transformative experience of being rid of that ?&&@!! cone!
Here’s something I find on YouTube when I search for “transformative experiences.”
Consider transforming this blog by leaving a comment about transformative experiences, below.
Gratitude always transforms my day into a better one, so thanks for sharing my experience, here and now.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 