I welcome all connections, including these: (1) I am not working this week and (2) I will be sitting in that same theatre on Wednesday when I attend Late Night with Steven Colbert in NYC.
I also welcome all opportunities to relax and read a good book, like this one by my friend Janet:
Of course, I welcome all comments, below.
Welcome all expressions of gratitude, including mine!
When people ask me how I can blog daily, I reply that there are unlimited sights and sounds that inspire these posts, even when my activity is limited by recent heart-related surgeries.
For example, there seems to be an unlimited number of teabag sayings I can include here.
While I have a limited capacity to believe that I, personally, am unlimited, here is a limited list of unlimited things I experience around me:
I have unlimited gratitude for music, my friend Deb, Watertown Massachusetts USA, walks near water, the beauty of autumn, and you — of course! — for your unlimited generosity in visiting my blog, today.
A year from now, my son and I will probably both be in water towns, although not the same one. In this year before my son goes away to college, every little kiss, word, and moment with him seems even more precious.
Thanks to my son, to Bruce Hornsby, to water towns everywhere, and to everyone who helps me water these daily posts with love — including you!
Let’s face it, my dear readers (with dear faces), facing my life experiences through this daily blog of 881 posts has helped me face a lot, over the last 29 months.
On the face of it, I like numbers. I find that knowing numbers often helps me face things.
Here are some numbers that would help me face the near future:
The number of faces who will be looking at me during my conference workshop on my therapy groups, in 6 days,
The number of workshop packets I need to make over the next 5 days (equal to or greater than the number in #1, above),
Numbers regarding the therapy groups I’ve been doing, over the last 43 months, that will put impressed or otherwise positive faces on that unknown number of workshop participants (see #1, above).
Figuring out how to get more than 5 hours of sleep a night, so I can face each day with a well-rested face.
Here are some numbers I faced over this past weekend:
My #1 son (and only child), Aaron, faced 3 audiences of many faces over the last 2 days, in the 1-act play he wrote and directed with 1 other person (his close friend Cameron) and which he also acted in, with 9 other people.
My happy face saw all 3 performances.
After the performances, I faced more than 30 smiling faces telling Aaron how much they loved the play.
Let’s face it, I also loved the play, to the nth degree.
Aaron and Cameron’s 1-act play included way more than these 7 plot elements: (1) Aaron’s High School Economics textbook, (2) the economist who wrote that textbook, N. Gregory Mankiw (whom Aaron invited to attend, with 1 email), (3) Satan (played by 1 of Aaron’s closest friends Clark), (4) God, (5) at least 3 levels of economics, (6) 1 large nuclear warhead hidden under 1 brown cloth and (7) 1 giant abacus (which is an ancient counting device).
At least 8 people I love saw Aaron’s play, including my 1 sister, my sister’s spouse Linda, my childhood friend Barbara, my ex-sister-in-law Deborah, Deborah’s daughter Laura, Laura’s daughter Victoria, Aaron’s father Leon, and — last but not least — my boyfriend Michael.
Before I saw 2 performances of 6 1-act plays yesterday, my #1 hair stylist, Mia, gave me 1 awesome haircut and 1 purple hair extension.
Here are 27 photos from yesterday:
I have 1 more story to tell you, today, about faces and numbers.
Yesterday, while I was taking 20 of the photos shown in this post, the doorbell rang 1 time, where Aaron, Michael and I live. Aaron, who had been in the 1st performance of his play the night before, decided to answer it.
Aaron found a family of 4 — 1 mother, 1 father, and 2 children approximately 11 or 12 years old — at our door. They gave Aaron 2 pamphlets:
About 2 minutes into Aaron’s conversation with this family of 4, he realized he was still wearing most of his makeup from the 1st night’s performance of his 1-act play. Here’s 1 photo of that makeup (shown in this blog for the 2nd time):
What would be your 1st guess about what happened during Aaron’s conversation with 4 Jehovah’s Witnesses, with 1 cross on his forehead and tears of blood running from his 2 eyes?
According to my #1 son, all 5 people spent 5 minutes with each other ….
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.
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… and not 1 person said 1 word about Aaron’s face.
What number of words might you say about THAT (or anything else in this post)?
Countless thanks to the large numbers of faces — especially Aaron’s — that helped me create today’s post. And a huge number of thanks to you — of course! — for spending n minutes of your precious time with me, here and now.
#11. Indulge in your favorite things whenever possible (like, for example, a showing of the musical “Singin’ in the Rain,” with music performed by the Boston Pops, tonight).
Stress-free thanks to cats, to Boston and its surroundings, to Antonio Vivaldi, to Donald O’Connor, and to all those who help melt away my stress, including you!
“Never worry alone” is something my manager likes to say.
I most recently heard him say
Never worry alone
two days ago, during his presentation on “Violence in Health Care,” at the hospital-based Primary Care Practice where we both work.
Earlier this morning, I followed his advice to
Never worry alone
by sending an email to my cardiologists, about some worries filling up space in my head.
As I approach surgery for my very unusual heart on May 4th, I hereby resolve to
Never worry alone
from now on. Does anybody want to join in with that resolution?
Yesterday, I spent some time with my friend, Deb. We never worried alone, as we walked around less-worried Watertown, Massachusetts.
That’s Chris, who told us he no longer worries about flat tires or chains, now that he alone has that most excellent bicycle.
There’s Deb. Does she look worried? Whether she is or not, she’s not alone — I’m right there, taking pictures.
At some point, I shared with Deb my worry that I had left a bottle of heart medication pills at the Royal Restaurant in Watertown the night before.
No worries! I found those pills when Deb and I returned there for brunch:
Deb and I shared worries and other things (including soy milk French Toast, a Gruyere and mushroom omelette, and FRIED OREOS) at The Royal.
Does anything about that worry you? It didn’t worry us, and we left The Royal for more walking.
One thing I didn’t photograph yesterday: imagining my worries attached to a rock I found and throwing that Worry Rock — with Deb as my lone witness — into the Charles River.
I wasn’t worried yesterday when I accidentally switched to black and white photography for a few shots.
Deb said I should put my name (or the non-judgmental name of this blog) on my custom-made t-shirts. Should I worry about that?
Should I worry about which “Worry” song to include today?
I’m not worrying alone now, thanks to my manager, my cardiologists, Deb, Chris and his bicycle, Watertown, the Royal Restaurant, the Charles River, my Worry Rock, Stevie Wonder, soy milk French toast and fried Oreos, kids and pogo sticks, peaceful frogs and people, and — of course! — you.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 
