40 years of The Serenity Prayer

40 years ago today, I trembled my way into an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, accompanied by a woman I had just met. It was a typical church basement meeting room with unflattering fluorescent lights, a long table, and folding chairs, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. There were neatly dressed, well-groomed men and women, a few who looked sickly and bloated, even a little yellowish, many in jeans and tees, some chatting, others quietly reading a thick book, most with a cup of coffee or can of soda in front of them.  

It took me several of those meetings before I could choke out the words admitting that my name was Beth, and yes, I was an alcoholic. And yet, why else would I have been there? You don’t just wander into a 12-Step Group for fun. You go because you don’t want to live like you have been. You go because you don’t know what else to do. You go because you are sick and tired of being sick and tired. Maybe you go because a judge has ordered you to. And like me, maybe you go because you think you may have a problem, but you surely aren’t that far gone yet. (Hint: If you’re there, it’s because you DO have a problem and yes, you DO need to be there.)

I could not imagine a life without drinking wine with Italian food, a day on the lake without plenty of beer, a nice dinner without a few cocktails beforehand (which turned into during, and after…). I was just in awe of those speakers who had 10 or 15, or even 25 years of sobriety, and knew I could never do that. It was just inconceivable. My group of friends all drank. I wouldn’t fit in anymore. 

And yet, here I am, 40 years sober. 

In those many church basements and a few dedicated clubhouses, I was shown a blueprint for living my life through the 12 Steps. It was so simple: Admitting I was powerless over alcohol and that my life had become unmanageable….Came to believe that a power greater than myself could restore me to sanity…..and so on, one step at a time, worked through on your own timetable. And you could go back and repeat. And people would encourage you and talk about their own experiences, openly. There were often tears. There was genuine laughter. There were hugs. 

The only rule was that for the next 24 hours, one day, you couldn’t drink. I was given a small metal coin with AA engraved on one side, and told that if I felt the urge to drink, I should drop the chip into the glass, and when it dissolved, I could have the drink. 

People gave me their phone numbers, told me to call if I felt shaky. When I came back, I was welcomed. And I watched them do the same with so many others, whether or not they had succeeded in not drinking that day. “Keep coming back” was the mantra. “Good things happen to alcoholics who don’t drink.”

In those rooms, we discussed and read the 12 Steps and the 12 Traditions, one at a time, over and over. Many speakers told their stories and left us with the assurance that if they could do it, so could we. I learned that the difference between my story and that of someone who had lost home, family, health, maybe even liberty, was that I hadn’t had to go down those roads YET….the lesson being that drinking/using never ends well and it can be a simple matter of time before you get there, in the dungeon of self-loathing and lost blessings. 

One step at a time. Rinse and repeat. Meetings. The Serenity Prayer was never far from my lips, and especially in the beginning I used it constantly to keep me focused on what I needed to do, giving me strength to live a minute at a time on some days. It wasn’t just not having a drink, it was knowing that the drink was not going to be an option to help numb the anger or resentment or pain or fear. It was figuring out what I could change and what I couldn’t, and sometimes desperately pleading for the wisdom to see and be able to live with the difference. 

When you live life one day at a time, it is much easier to manage. When you have an outline of how to manage your feelIngs and relationships, and how to move forward in a kind and positive way, it is life changing, one day, one step at a time. It never gets old. You are never “done” with any step, because if you are living, you are changing and evolving. The 12 Steps are as relevant to me today as they were at the beginning of this journey. I did not do them perfectly nor always as suggested, having just the *slightest* tendency towards following my own drum. But the outcome has been positive. 

I am so grateful for these Life Lessons, this blueprint for being, that I came to in such a desperate and pain-filled way so long ago. I see them reflected in teachings from our great Ascended Masters, of Buddha, Master Jesus, Quan Yin, Sensei Usui. I have found them in movies and novels. I see them sometimes in news stories about the helpers who appear when there is desperate need. And I still work, one day at a time, to use them in my own life and responses to the world’s hurting and injustices. 

Spending more than half my life as a recovering alcoholic was not one of my life goals. But those choices led me in a positive direction when I stepped into that basement room, and I am filled with gratitude for 40 years of stubborn determination to not drink for the next 24 hours, and to follow, however imperfectly, the 12 Steps. 

The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity

To accept the things I cannot change;

Courage to change the things I can;

And wisdom to know the difference.

— Reinhold Niebuhr 

Friendships: A Reason, a Season, or a Lifetime

"True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils. Strive to have friends, for life without friends is like life on a desert island. To find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing." ~ Baltasar Gracian

I've never been one to have a lot of friends at once, and the few close ones I do have have taken years to develop. 

But they're the ones you can call on when you don't know anybody else who will listen to your fears and worries and rantings, who will hug you and hand you Kleenex as you sob your heart out, and tell you whether you're simply caught up in the emotion of the situation or whether it really IS as bad as you think it is. And then they'll help you figure out where to go from there.

They're the ones who will call YOU when you try to isolate and say "I'm fine" when it is clear that you are no such thing. They'll beat down your barriers and show up uninvited. They don't buy the "I'm fine" crap you're trying to sell to the rest of the world.  

They're also the ones that you can pick up with right where you left off, no matter if it's been 10 minutes or 10 years. 

It takes intention to develop that kind of friendship. You talk, in person, on the phone, via email or social networking. If it clicks, you keep going.  You go shopping and to lunch. You share at least some interests and go places together -- the home and garden show, the quilting show, the movies, a play or concert.. You show up for their events; they show up for yours. You keep touching base with each other, intentionally. You ask about them and what's important in their lives; they ask about you and your activities. It isn't forced, it isn't really work, because you really want to know. You've clicked over into friendship, a deep, loving friendship.

It's said that friendships fall into the categories of reason, season, or lifetime. I think that's pretty accurate. 

In these days of social media, people have long 'Friends' lists -- numbering in the hundreds if not thousands. I understand that often it is for marketing purposes, especially when one is an entrepreneur and needs to develop a base of supporters -- I mean, who has thousands of  'friends' in real life? Not me. 

I am surprised to see myself with slightly more than 200 'Friends.' Many are people I used to know through various jobs and places I used to live, from high school or college, and while we might have once known each other fairly well, we don't anymore -- but neither of us wants to break that tie from the past just yet. They're the 'reason' or 'season' friendships. And yet there are one or two from this group who I expect to be in occasional touch with, outside of Facebook, for the rest of my life. 

Some are relatives who I don't know very well, especially as adults, but we share a common  family tree and some interesting memories of our grandparents and our sibling parents -- and I've actually come to know a few of them a little better because of the Facebook ties. They're also 'reason' friends, although I will know most through our lifetimes. But where we might have been close cousins as children, we are now merely related adults.

 A very few are people I've come to know through our connection online and while I have never (or only once or twice) actually hugged their necks, I enjoy their stories. And nearly all the rest are people I know, most not particularly well, from living in my current area. 

There are a handful who I count as dear friends. We've gone through at least some stages of the friendship building, and there is a connection that goes beyond social media. They are the 'season' friends --  who may yet develop into the lifetime ones. We are enjoying the journey together, and that's what matters. I am grateful for them.

At least two do not use Facebook at all -- but we pick up where we left off when we do see each other, which may be once every few years or two or three times a year. We send cards, exchange emails or texts, sometimes phone calls. Those are the lifetime friends. 

One of those friendships began in 1982 and has lasted through divorces, depression, alcoholism, anguish over children, our parents' deaths, radically different political  and even spiritual viewpoints, and a (ex)spouse who molested both of our daughters. I know that whoever dies first will have the other at her bedside, if at all possible, to help in that last transition. Because we love each other, warts and all.

It is a privilege and a great joy to have such a friend. I never take these dear friends for granted, and I hope I give back to them the caring and consideration they have extended to me. We all learn from each other in this world, and it is such a blessing to have like-minded people to play with through this life! 

Time for a change

Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself. ~ George Bernard Shaw

It is sobering -- embarrassing, really -- to see that I did not post here one single time in 2017. And not much in 2016. And I have the nerve to call myself a writer?

Time for a change.

For the last year or so, I've posted daily quotes on my Facebook page every morning: words that inspired me at the moment, sometimes amusing, sometimes a bit close to the bone, but always positive.

You attract what you think about. That's a truth I've learned over the past few years as I've expanded my spiritual journey through the study of Reiki and other energy/light work experiences. Everything works and feels better when your outlook is positive. The Light comes through much more easily.

Old Musings has been around since 2003 -- a long, long time for a blog. I've written about topics that were on my mind at the moment -- family, politics, the news, daily living. Some were rants. Some were answers to writing prompts. Some were sad reflections about grief and loss and disappointment. You can still find them by using the Labels or searching the archives, if you really want to look back. (I confess -- I couldn't bring myself to just blow away 13 years of posts, and I wanted to keep the name of the blog -- so there you are.)

At the suggestion of one of my occasional readers (thanks, Dr. W.), I'm repurposing "Old Musings" into "The NEW Old Musings." I'll begin every post with a relevant quote, and posts will still reflect what's on my mind -- but they will all be positive, in hopes that you (and I) can find the Light in every situation, every event.

If our purpose is to create our own lives, then let that creation be good, be strong and healthy and grateful for all that we experience. Even the hard parts.

If you're still around, please join me again as we explore this life from another viewpoint. And thank you for reading.

Critical thinking or just hitting 'like'?

I was unfriended recently because, I'm pretty sure, I wrote a comment on a  friend's Facebook timeline that respectfully challenged the source of a political story. I was very careful not to be inflammatory or tromp heavily on that person's cherished convictions.

My reason for even commenting was because I thought the post/link, about election fraud, sounded a little too much like propaganda rather than being factually based. When I investigated the organization that issued the 'study,' and read comments, and followed links, it began to look like one either backed by the Trump people or the Bernie people to discredit Hillary and the Democratic National Committee. While it purported to be a non-partisan organization run by a group of non-partisan lawyers, journalists, analysts, etc., there were no names attached to it at all on their website, and the DNC and Hillary appeared to be the only ones investigated and targeted -- nothing at all about the Republican election and voter registration fraud that has been widely publicized in the last decade or so.

My comment pretty much said that. I questioned the assertion that it was a 'non-partisan' organization.

Clearly it was not welcome. And equally clearly, I was no longer welcome in that person's life.

I thought about it all day and why it upset me, other than losing a friendship that while not a close one was a pleasant one with someone I thought highly of.

And I figured it out: it is the lack of evidence of any critical thinking -- and it doesn't just extend to this particular post and 'study,' but to all such social media posts that claim a candidate or organization did/said/stole/lied in some very authoritative and absolutist language with very little supporting evidence cited when you actually read the story. Often the 'study' is reported by a site that is widely known to have a left or right or special interest bias.

I'd venture to say that many -- if not most -- Facebook users hit "Like" or "Share" based on the incendiary headline without even READING the whole article!

How many actually research it and look for sources, reputable sources, with a truly non-partisan point of view, sources which actually strive to present both sides of the story instead of wildly slanting whatever thin strands of 'evidence' might be there? Anyone? Even a little bit?

Well, I do. I was raised to think, to ask questions (conversations around our dinner table were often quite lively). As a journalist, I was trained to provide both points of view in a story, or else label the story as editorial, not as news. As an English major, I was expected to learn critical literary analysis. As a liberal arts major, I was required to sample different philosophies and disciplines, and taught how to examine them and draw my own conclusions based on evidence provided.

Is that even taught in our schools anymore?  Are we giving our children data and expecting nothing more out of them than to regurgitate it on tests? Do we have discussions about politics or religion or social issues within our groups of family and friends without rancorous judgment and angry disagreement? Does anyone remember how to disagree respectfully?

I think not, at least based on what I am reading and seeing on social media and in the news and newspapers.

And yes, I do watch the news, I do read newspapers and blogs and magazines. I have heard many of those who post on Facebook claim that they 'never' watch the news -- too biased -- but rely instead on Facebook groups to get the 'real' story.

Hello? 

These groups are not unbiased. They present a particular point of view. If you don't balance it out by also reading groups who present a different viewpoint, you are not getting 'the real story.'

No one likes having a dearly held belief challenged, political or religious or social. But if you respond by refusing to consider any other evidence, if you continue to wear blinders and steadfastly forge ahead without considering what else may be waiting just outside your narrow tunnel vision, you risk losing much, much more.

 I'm sorry that I lost a friend over politics. I'm sorry that this person didn't value our relationship enough to just block my posts but keep me as a friend -- as I have done over the last two elections with some of my friends and relatives.

But I am not sorry for speaking up -- although I pretty much have decided that for this election, I am simply going to vote my convictions rather than ballyhoo them on Facebook, hard as it may be. You may hold me accountable to that.

Women! Are you really going to stand for this?

Donald Trump said out loud and very publicly this week what the Republicans have pussy-footed around saying (through enacting and proposing and supporting anti-reproductive rights legislation) for years:

    Women who have abortions should be punished.

and while he may not have said it in these exact words, what he meant was:

    Women should not be allowed to determine what medical procedures are performed or medications prescribed when it comes to their reproductive systems.

     Women's lives are not important when a  fertilized egg is growing in a uterus. That group of cells takes priority over any medical, emotional, or spiritual needs of the woman.

    If women think they can get away with acting in their own best interests on anything relating to reproductive rights, they better think again, because WE WILL COME AFTER THEM. 

It's been all over the news, and many groups (including some of the Repubs) have responded in shock and dismay.

But all you have to do is to look at the state of reproductive health legislation in this country to know that Trump has just voiced exactly what the majority of our Republican legislators (both federal and state), and not just a few Democrats, alas, really think.

That's what Trump has done throughout his bombastic and unprecedented presidential campaign on many topics, not just this one, actually. He has openly voiced what is not politically correct or acceptable to say. (And I am NOT defending him on this.)  The maybe-not-quite-voiced conclusions? Women (and minorities, Muslims, Mexicans, immigrants) should NOT be treated equally. They are not worthy, they are not as good as (white Christian) men, they do not deserve equal pay for equal work, they cannot and should not be allowed to determine what happens to their own bodies. But we support women, they say ....in the bedroom, the kitchen, the nursery, the classroom, as nurses and caretakers...not in the executive offices, as decision makers, as innovators, as doctors or lawyers....

But Trump and all the other presidential campaign candidates and associated events are not the real subject of this particular blog post.

THIS is:
What I do not understand (and haven't, really, for years) is WHY the women of this country are allowing Trump and the lawmakers who believe and say these things about women's reproductive rights to get away with it?

WHY are you not protesting and actively campaigning to defeat candidates who would take away this very personal, very basic right of an individual to determine her own medical treatment and options?

WHY are you silent when state after state after state limits access to safe and effective and LEGAL access to birth control and wellness checkups and medication and mammogram screenings and reproductive cancer screenings, and yes, abortion?

WHY do you believe that a group of mostly men, mostly older, should determine how, if, and when you receive medical care and medications as it relates to your reproductive organs?

WHY on earth would you believe that ANYone, ANY organization, ANY group, ANY law, has the RIGHT to tell you what you can and cannot do about your body?

******************
I remember when effective birth control was not readily available. I remember when abortion was not legal and thousands of women were helped by an underground network of clergy, doctors, lawyers, and others to receive what we all hoped would be safe abortions. I remember women who died from illegal, botched, kitchen table procedures, who were rendered sterile or maimed because of desperate do-it-yourself coat hanger and knitting needle attempts.

I supported and worked for safe and legal abortion, for access to birth control and reproductive counseling and medical tests and wellness procedures. Planned Parenthood was a godsend for millions of women then, and continues -- even though it has been so hobbled by the untruths and vicious lies that have been spread this last year -- to do so now. I lobbied on Capital Hill and in the Missouri legislature. I wrote letters and gave interviews and marched in picket lines and parades. I was then and continue to be PRO-CHOICE, even though my reproductive days are long over.

So where are you, Millennials and Generation X and Generation Z? 

What are you doing to ensure that these rights stay legal and accessible?

What are you going to do when our presidential candidates tell you that women who have abortions should be punished?

Do you not understand that your access to safe and legal abortion is under attack -- and is dwindling?

Do you not understand that your access to safe and effective birth control is under attack...and being curtailed?

Do you not understand that your right to make medical decisions for yourself is already limited and is likely to be even more so?

How can you not care?

****************

Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it. George Santayana
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgesant101521.html

 “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” ~ George Santayana in The Life of Reason, 1905.

“People are always quick to call evil what they do not know. The unknown sprouts fear. It spreads like an infection, burrowing into every facet of their lives. They need a scapegoat, someone to blame. Fingers are pointed, accusations are made, and a target lands on somebody’s back. They grow angry. They turn violent.
To history, human nature must be a stubborn and tiring student. No matter how many times history tries to show it the error of its ways, it never learns from its mistakes.”
― Kelseyleigh Reber, If I Resist

Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it. George Santayana
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgesant101521.html

Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it. George Santayana
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/g/georgesant101521.htm

A note to my United States Postal Carrier

Dear Thin Lady with the Hoodie who stands at our subdivision mailboxes peering intently at the letters in your hand:

Please go find another job.
This is not working for us. It can't be working very well for you, either, based on the conversation I had with our postmaster one day last week, and a mail supervisor the day before. And honestly, I'm working up to another conversation with the postmaster about the quality of our mail delivery service.  (I learned also that mine was among MANY complaints received in recent weeks, so this is not new.)

I know the current carriers are training you so that they can have a little time off from their current six-day-a-week delivery schedule. I talked to your aunt. She was not helpful. She said, "I'm doing the best I can."

It isn't enough.

You actually have a handbook that describes in detail the requirements of your job as a rural postal carrier. There is a lot to learn and a great deal of reporting accountability, and I can certainly see where aspects of the job are difficult to remember.

But when you get it all together, your job is to deliver the correct mail to the address on the package/envelope, and not put it in someone else's box. You are not doing that very well. If you are dyslexic, then find a job that doesn't require you to read numbers and letters with complete accuracy.  It isn't this one.

Twice in the last two weeks, I have had packages placed in others' mailboxes (and I'm wondering now about things expected over the last few months but never received). You had no way of knowing what was inside: it could have been a priceless heirloom, a birthday gift, prescription medication, a freebie giveaway. IT DOESN'T MATTER what was inside: your job is to deliver the mail to the address. You failed to do that.

In one case, my neighbor/friend called to tell me about it, and I retrieved the package from him. In the other, it was left in someone's box who I don't know well, and it was retrieved by a Postal Service supervisor who came out to the subdivision boxes after I went to the post office to find out what to do, since the package sender had called to make sure I'd received it and was able to track it as having been placed in the parcel locker. The supervisor opened the main panel of the mailboxes and searched through all the individual slots until he found my package which, despite having been delivered the previous day, was thankfully still in the individual's locker box.

I'd really like to believe that the person in whose box it was placed would have notified me or returned it to the Post Office or left it in the box with a note that said "Misdelivered." That's what I would do.  But what if they didn't? What if it was medication that they could steal or sell? Or financial account information that could be used for identify theft? A check that could be cashed? Government documents that could jeopardize a person's medical or legal benefits? Are we going to find stacks of mail behind a dumpster that you just didn't have time to delivery properly? Yikes.
 
YOU are liable and responsible, missy, just as much as the person who receives mail not intended for them.

You have a solemn and clear responsibility to deliver the mail only to the person to whom it is addressed, and you did not do that. I'm now waiting on a report from my doctor who told me it was mailed last week, and then again on Tuesday. Not here yet. We'll see if it comes tomorrow. (And of course I will check with the doctor before I head for the Post Office.)

Mail delivery is not just a job, it is a trust, a contract, between the sender and the carrier to get it to where it needs to go. I have great respect for the US Postal Service for doing an immense job correctly most of the time, and I am amazed that it goes as well as it does. But you're a weak link here, and it sounds as though you've had adequate time to learn the process. Please find something else to do, for both our sakes. Because I won't stop complaining until it's right.

No excuses

Not really. My intentions to post daily with the Reverb 15 prompts were totally positive. But stuff happens, and intentions sometimes are put aside for other things.

So some three months later, and here I am again, thank you, God/dess.

It's Reverb time again -- 2015: Day 1

For some years now I have participated in a writing prompt titled Reverb. It's a look back at the year that is ending and an intention for the coming year. It is always insightful.

You are invited to participate, if you'd like, by going here to sign up.  Even if all you to is to reflect on the day's prompt, it can be beneficial, but you also can post links to your blog in the daily linkys for others to read. 

So onto the first prompt: 

 “Maybe lists are like prayers.”

What sorts of lists do you have on the go at the moment?

What do they suggest you are praying for?

I am a list-maker; always have been. I write stuff down -- grocery lists, things to do, ideas, packing lists, things to remember, menus or baking projects for holidays and parties. Even if I don't write it down, there is always an agenda in my head, a list, of things I want to do each day and pretty much the order in which I intend to complete the tasks. I wake up with lists. I go to bed with lists. 

Mostly they are a sort of shorthand, however -- not the minute-by-minute to-do lists that my daughter has taken to doing so that she doesn't forget things. I write brief words, or abbreviations like 'ct fd' on my calendar, meaning "Pick up the bag of cat food at the vet's office."  I use my calendar as a list too  -- things I need to do each day or each week, events I want to remember like "RF, LM c/TG" meaning that we are going to a play with our friends and then to dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. 

Right now I have lists for Christmas in my head -- nothing on paper yet or virtually unless you count Amazon wish lists. Gifts for others that must be purchased and sent; cookies I intend to bake; what I'm fixing for a couple of gatherings we have scheduled; holiday items I need to get for next year when they go on sale after Christmas. A list of to-dos: write holiday letter, sort through papers on my desk; get out the Christmas card holder; make sure meds are ordered through January; pick up cat food. That sort of trivia.

If my prayers are reflected in my lists, they would all be gratitude prayers for so many blessings: thank you that I feel well enough to go to the play and to a restaurant and to an event -- that I am not in afib and not hurting anywhere and have energy. Thank you that we are blessed with enough money to purchase gifts, food, shelter, medication, and pay bills and have reliable, safe vehicles, and yes, to buy enough cat food to keep our boys and girls healthy and well.  

Thank you that we can begin planning to attend a very special party in February. Thank you for friends to have lunch with, to go to events with, to send cards to. Thank you for my wonderful, devoted husband who is still recovering from extensive sinus surgery and needs an extra trip to see the doctor that requires a last-minute overnight stay. Thank you that I still have a memory and enough intelligence left to even be able to write things down and remember what they are!  Thank you that I am alive! That I am here!

Haters gonna hate....I guess

For those of you who do not want to read my take on a political issue, stop now. Don't bother to comment. 

Along with millions of others, I have watched and celebrated the decisions this week handed down by the Supreme Court of the United States. It's not that either of them directly affect me now; it's that they do impact my friends and family, along with so many millions who have worked so long and so hard to make them happen, who have prayed for them to happen, whose lives are changed for the good because they happened.

But this post is not directly about either decision.

It's about seeing that a Facebook friend 'liked' a post by someone else that piqued my curiosity enough for me to go read the post.

The accompanying picture showed the White House illuminated by rainbow lights -- an image that was all over social media. But this original poster had written about how disturbing the picture was -- not because of the ruling, but because of the "fucking clown who lives here" and who "feels it's his right to involve himself in your life...." The post ended by saying that Americans are slaves and sheep to the media and the lies "the pompous ass who lives in this house dictates."    

Whoa, Nellie.

So....President Obama is responsible for the marriage equality ruling? Huh? Because of his lies and fabrications? Because he wants to control our lives? 

We learn early in school -- well, at least I did -- that our government has three branches in order to act as checks and balances for the others. We learn how they function. And we learn that the Supreme Court's  job is to make sure our state and federal laws and our President's actions are within the boundaries set by the Constitution. (There is more basic info here...)

The President had nothing to do with the Court's decision(s). Under our Constitution and our laws, he could not assume that power. The Congress didn't either. Nor did the media, folks. 

The Court decided the way they did based on the Constitution and how the case that was argued before them is interpreted through Constitutional law. Nothing else. 

This post was clearly from someone who hates our President. HATES him fiercely and irrationally and vengefully. And while all our Presidents have had their haters (I was no fan of George W. Bush, believe me), President Obama has been the subject of more vitriolic venom and vengeful action than ever before (or, as in the recent Congress, INaction, deliberately and for no other reason than the Republican Congress HATED that Obama was in the White House and made a pact not to pass any Democratic bills).

The primary basis for this hatred is race. You know it; I know it; they know it. It just KILLS them to see a black family in the White House, a black man as the leader of our United States. Any other reason given is way secondary to this fact. It's just not acceptable to publicly hate on a black man in power because of his color; especially not when he is our duly elected President (by a MAJORITY of the voters, by the way). So the haters always find another way to justify their diatribes and hate speech, even when Obama had nothing to do with the reason the haters state -- like this Supreme Court ruling, for instance. It's his race, people. His black skin. That's the real reason.

In truth, however, President Obama has been an extremely influential leader (despite the Republicans in Congress). Most remarkable is that he actually managed to get a national healthcare bill passed -- a feat attempted by leaders of both parties since 1912. But there is a lot more on his star chart. Read the article.

(I have absolutely NO doubt that if Hillary Clinton becomes the next President of the United States that she will be the next target for extreme hatred and vilification by the conservative camps. And that, friends, will be because of her sex: a woman? In the White House? As the Commander in Chief? Leader of the free world? A WOMAN?)

So yes, this post disturbed me a lot. The fact that someone I know 'liked' what the poster wrote disturbs me too. It's worth pointing out that both the original poster and the person I know have many inspirational and motivational posts on their public pages -- comments that urge people to keep going, to stay positive, to be who you are and embrace life, among others. To write or approve of something so full of hate and contempt (on so many levels, from the full text in the original post) seems to belie their good words of hope and encouragement and acceptance. I'm not sure you can do both and actually live what you purport to believe. 

There is a popular quote by Janis Ian making its way around social media: "We don't have to agree on anything to be kind to one another." 

Maybe that doesn't extend to politics, to Supreme Court decisions, or Democrat-Republican, liberal or conservative differences and opinions. Or religion, especially when one religion sees itself as the only right way and everybody else is wrong, no question, no arguments. Or social justice issues, where everyone is equal but some are a little more equal than others, especially if you have money, are male, and are white. 

But I think it does. 

However:
*** Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am a Pollyanna who never sees the ugly side of anything. Do not think for one moment that I do not know what it is to lobby and fight hard for issues I believe in, or to be bitterly disappointed in the actions and inactions of others, especially politicians, but also corporate management. Do not label me as a do-gooder, knee-jerk liberal Yankee Democrat who doesn't know what the "real" world is like. And especially do not dismiss my incredibly good research skills, my ability to write an impactful letter or testimony or opinion piece, and my Scorpio nature. All while being kind, of course....





 

April Moon 15, Day 3

The prompt: Giving birth doesn't have to be literal. So far in my life I have birthed...

...A lot of pretty good marketing ideas and advertisements for both non-profit and public sector organizations, and a whole bunch of them for a couple of corporations.
...Various reinventions of my life depending on where I was, where I wanted to go, and/or what was necessary at the time -- like coming to California 18 years ago
...Two daughters, neither of whom came from my womb, but who grew in my heart.
...A nice portfolio of newspaper and magazine clips of stories about people, places, events, and more -- starting many decades ago. I no longer write 500-word ledes, by the way.
...Ideas, advice, friendships, relationships. It's a growth process, never a completed journey.
...Myself. Learning to be who I am, one day at a time, and figuring that out.

April Moon 15, Day 2

The prompt: Knowing what I know now, I would tell my ten-years-ago self:

Ten years ago I was 57. It was 2005, and we were full-on into our real estate career, busy, active, working hard.

My mother was slipping bit by bit, too many miles away from me. I was on the Arts Council and very busy with that volunteer work. We were about to launch a new photo club which would meet with nine people in our great room on that first meeting, and which, ten years later, has morphed into something a bit different than our original ideas, but is still going strong.

I'd come a long way, however, and really was well-launched on a good path for me. But there are a few things.....


Today I would tell that person who was me then to let it go. The people-pleasing. The fear. The resentment. The anger. The only thing all of that angst will change is ME, and not necessarily for the better. It will not change the people, places, or things at which the fear and anger are directed.

I would gift myself with Mary Oliver's miracle-working poem "The Journey" and memorize it. And I'd read more Mary Oliver poems.

I would remind myself that the most important thing about life are friends and family -- and honestly, I was already very aware of that in 2005, but still too trusting, too ready to accept people as honest and true. People are often not what they seem to be, even dear, close, loved ones. That is a bitter, bitter pill to swallow and process. Lack of trust, deception, lies, and fear are devastating.

I would pull that back in myself, me who had always given too much and carried too many others along, trying to fix it all for them. I wish I had known -- and understood -- then:

You strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do,
determined to save
the only life you could save.

“

”

From "The Journey", in Dream Work (1986)
 

I would give myself permission to have more fun, to be more spontaneous (something I still don't do enough of), to enjoy things.

I would be grateful for each day for my health, although I was already working to keep it good.

I would remind myself that I am strong and capable and that I can weather some terrible disappointments and griefs, and still be loving and kind.

And I would tell myself to be kinder: to myself, to my family and friends, to clerks, to telephone callers, to random people I see on the street. Judgement serves little purpose: kindness does.

April Moon, Day 1

"That's when I knew that this chapter of my life had ended. And now I was free to.."

That's the first writing prompt for the marvelous 2015 April Moon series from wild wonderful writing woman Kat McNally, she of Reverb and August Moon.

It's a little different this year, she explains. It's a story-starter, really. I'm a bit late in beginning this one, but it'll work no matter when I begin or end!

While I can think of several chapter endings, at least a few of them are not appropriate for a public forum such as this (although they're great stories). But let me tell you about the end of my freelance career....

It was January 2010 and we'd been to see one of the traveling Broadway-style shows that Redding regularly featured at their Civic Center -- "The Wedding Singer." Actually, we hadn't subscribed to the series for a few years since Tony was working in Chico at that time, and the plays were always on week nights, which made for a very long day of driving for him. These were gifted to us by friends who couldn't go.

After the performance, we headed, hand-in-hand, back to the truck in the parking lot. It was dark and the lot was dimly lit. As we got to the back of the truck, we parted -- Tony to the driver's side, me to the passenger's. There was not a light near the truck, so I was walking mostly in the dark. I came past the tailgate and headed down the side of the truck.

"AHHHHHHHHH," I yelled as my toe struck the concrete parking curb stop which was partially hidden under the truck bed. There was nothing to grab. I flew sideways and landed on my outstretched right hand, then my hip and body followed.

I crashed onto the blacktop and just lay there for a minute. A couple of people from nearby cars came hurrying up to help; Tony came around the end of the truck, and they tried to help me sit up.

I knew my wrist was broken. It was in an unnatural s-curve, although it didn't hurt. "It's broken," I said, holding it close to my chest. "Maybe not," said Tony, as he helped me stand, along with two other men, and then together they boosted me into the truck since there was no way I could grab onto the strap to pull myself in.

I thanked the others and we headed for the Mercy Hospital ER. I had the presence of mind to take off my rings since my hand hadn't begun to swell yet, and also directed Tony to the hospital.

They took me back immediately and it wasn't long before they shot me up with painkillers and an anti-nausea drug. X-rays showed several pieces of shattered bone. Long story short: It was splinted that night; a week later I had surgery and the wonderful orthopedist put it back together with many screws and a plate.

But even that night I knew I wasn't going to be writing stories anytime soon. It was my right hand. My note-taking hand. And there's no way I'm typing stories with just my left hand.It hurt, and I had no idea how long I'd be in a cast. Certainly I wasn't going to meet deadlines any time soon.

It was over, those freelance gigs. And I wasn't too upset about it, actually. I loved the interviewing, the getting to meet new people and find out their stories and how they got to where they are. But the deadlines? Meh. The stress of trying to tell their story accurately and yet still making it enticing in a mere 500-700 words? Very hard. I would sweat blood over the story and always ended up paring it down, hopefully not losing the essence as I chopped words. I would not miss that part.

The next day I called my editor to tell her I was out, but that I had a replacement in mind, a local friend who had no freelance experience but whose writing was clean, interesting, and sharp. They both agreed -- and my friend Melissa is still writing for them, five years later.

 I was ready to be done, apparently, and the Universe took a rather drastic way of letting me know that. I needed to get out of the way to allow Melissa her opportunity.

While I know I could have resumed freelancing once I'd healed, it never felt right again. 

#Reverb 15 -- March -- Decluttering

The prompt: Spring favorites | Cleaning out the closet, updating your beauty regime, tackling DIY projects.  What are your favorites this spring?

I swear that I am in a constant state of decluttering....closet twice a year when I switch from warm clothes to cool clothes, the office every time I sit down at my very messy desk, the kitchen when I open a messy drawer, the linen closet weekly when I put away clean, folded sheets. And don't get me started on the attic.

It just never quite seems to come together, though. There is always more to do. It is never finished.

The last few months have been interesting, though, in that through my reiki group and increasing passion for this healing modality, I have read more about astrological influences and energy involvement than I have ever studied. This past week, for instance, was a huge week with a new super moon, a solar eclipse, and the spring equinox. There were other astrological references that I only vaguely understand, but involving cycles and degrees, beginnings and endings.

I understand beginnings and endings. And the energy felt tumultuous, big, charged. It was a time for big change, a time to let go of things that no longer serve our best interests to make way for new things to come into our lives. It was a time for evaluating everything, including relationships and projects. And its effects continue through the next six months, so no, I didn't have to get everything done this week.

But I'm embracing this spiritual journey that reiki seems to have launched me into, planning to continue training with three days of level two training coming up, and opportunities for 'woo-woo' workshops appearing. I am appreciating the energy and wisdom that my little group of reiki students/practitioners offers, and learning so much.

Practically, I'm again cleaning out closets as I contemplate cool clothes (since our winter appears to be quite over), and discarding bits of paper, cosmetics, medicines, tubes, boxes, and the like that accumulate in drawers over time. I am finally throwing out three bags of fabric that I cut into pattern sections (along with the now outdated patterns) oh so many years ago, facing the truth that no, I will not ever sew them, and wouldn't wear them anymore anyway. More, more, more of this kind of cleaning out!

And more more more of the 'woo-woo' experiences that are resonating with my deepest self right now.

#Reverb15 -- February

Wuv, twue wuv...Love is strange | What characteristic or habit of yours is so odd, you'd be mortified if your partner ever discovered it? Alternatively, what makes you a total goober and your other half still loves you for it? If you're single, let your freak flag fly and tell us about what you're afraid might turn off a potential mate. 

Well, I'm a little late, by two days, to this prompt for February, and honestly, I'm not sure about it.

At this stage in my life, I'm pretty much What You See is What You Get....not about being 'mortified' if my partner discovered some habit or characteristic. Actually, I gave up that deceptive practice a long time ago.

And that's a GOOD thing.

Why hide a part of who you are from your partner? How does that make for open, honest communication if you share only what you think s/he would want to know about you? How would you feel if your partner withheld a part of him/herself from you because s/he was afraid you wouldn't love/like them anymore, or if you would be horrified at learning about a habit or characteristic? 

I don't much like surprises, especially surprises like those. I want to know all about the warts, the uglies, the nasties, the funkies. If I can't handle those details, then the relationship isn't one I should be in. And I hate even worse being blindsided -- I mean, don't YOU?

Seems to me that if you have a habit or characteristic that you think is so awful that you can't talk about it to someone who you claim to love and cherish that maybe you'd better both take a look at the habit AND think about why you're reluctant to 'fess up to your partner.

Do I have little habits and characteristics that are hinky? Yup. But he loves me. And he knows them all, as I know his. No secrets here. And that's a GOOD thing.

#Reverb 15 January -- my UNgoal

The Prompt: Ungoals | What are you so NOT doing this year? What's on your "I just can't care about that" list?

Well, I'd love to say that I am not going to have any more big medical issues this year, but that got blown to hell last week when we discovered that the sight in one eye -- my GOOD eye, vision-wise -- has deteriorated quite a bit. So I will be having an MRI to rule out brain tumors and strokes, and then we'll go from there. Meanwhile I am back on eye drops for the glaucoma. Not something you want to mess around with. My doctor is on top of it, though, and I'm grateful for that.

So instead I'm going to reiterate what I've been saying and mostly doing for the last couple of years: I am not spending time with people who I don't much like anyway, for whatever reasons, and I'm not doing things or participating in causes that I don't feel strongly, even passionately, about. I don't play games anymore with people. If you don't like what I am and what I believe, that's fine. We'll be done.

When you clean house, when you open the doors and declutter your house, literally or figuratively, it makes room for new, good things to come in and take root. I want more things like my wonderful reiki group, like our new drumming sessions. I want more gratitude and joy. I want to always see the glass as half-full.

#Reverb 14, Day 31

Big (or small) goals: What’s on tap for next year?  Share your big (or small) goals with us.  Why did you pick those goals?  Are these things you’ve always wanted to do?  How are you going to get them done?

Job one is recovering from hardware removal surgery from a triple arthrodesis I had two years ago. I am hoping for physical therapy as I haven't walked with a decent gait for at least three years, and I am tired of feeling off balance and like Lurch. Everything in my body is a little 'off' -- and I want balance.

Actually, balance is pretty much the goal for 2015 in all things. 

I did not like the 'obese' code in my doctor's pre-op instructions, not ONE bit. I don't think of myself as 'obese,' but according to the BMI charts, I suppose I have been either there or in the overweight category for years. Even when I lost 50 lbs back in 2002-3, according to those charts I was still overweight. But I didn't look it -- I looked slim and healthy in the photos from that time.

So we are both on a quest to lose weight and ramp up exercise, not to look buff and skinny, but to look and feel healthier and not so achy-breaky. We both need to gain strength in our arms and legs, we both need to increase core strength. I need always to work on balance (which I have never had, really, even as a young person). 

Yoga will help me do a lot of that, and so will some strength training at the gym. Like I said, it's about balance: feeling and looking healthier and stronger, with more stamina and strength. 

That also means putting my head in the right space to do this, not feeling deprived and anxious, but knowing that spirit will guide me to the right place for me. My mantra is "I am here." Right here, right now. One day at a time, one bite at a time, one workout at a time. We can do this.

Commitment to that is the only goal for 2015. The rest will follow. 




 

#Reverb 14, Day 30

In and out list: Each year the Washington Post (and various other media) pens an “in and out” list comprised of pop culture people/items that are in and out.  What’s on your in and out list?

 In: 
Bluetooth iPod speaker
Love Grown Power O's
Magnesium Oil
Rescue Remedy Sleep Spray
Alegria shoes
Local beef
Zevia Zero soda


Out:
Earbuds (except in the dentist's chair)
Cheerios
Ben-Gay
Benedryl
Crocs
Supermarket pink slime beef
Diet sodas with Spenda or aspartame

I suppose I'm woefully behind the times regarding pop culture. Most of what I know I've learned either from Entertainment magazine or one of the television Insider-type shows. 

I'm retired! I wear jeans and yoga pants and tees and sweatshirts and hoodies and sweaters. I listen to what most would call moldy oldies, abeit I have an eclectic mix of classical, high church choral, Broadway musicals, Celtic, and classic rock groups on my iPod. I sort of feel like Ouiser in "Steel Magnolias": "I do not see plays, because I can nap at home for free. And I don't see movies 'cause they're trash, and they got nothin' but naked people in 'em! And I don't read books, 'cause if they're any good, they're gonna make 'em into a miniseries"

That, of course, isn't really true about me -- I do see plays, I do go to movies, and I do read books. But I'm picky.

 

#Reverb 14, Day 29

Day in the life: Describe a typical day-in-the-life.  Give us details!  Give us pictures!  Sometimes our days can seem boring.  Is that okay?  What do you do to make your days feel a bit special?

 Oh, how retirement changes day-to-day life!

Tony almost always gets up before I do. I snuggle back down in the covers and snooze, awakening usually between 8 and 8:30 (unless I didn't sleep well, in which case it could be an hour later). Sweats and slippers on. Flip on lights on the plant shelf (where my angels sit); open great room blinds,  and I'm ready for a cup of tea (sometimes decaf coffee). Teabag in the tall St. Elizabeth Hospital cup, cup under the Keurig dispenser (hot water). Sit in my green leather chair with my iPad. McMurphy leaps to the arm of the chair, his butt barely missing the cup of hot tea, and into my lap, where he insists on snuggling, stretching out long paws to push away the iPad. I comply. Sort of, anyway, holding the iPad at an awkward angle so I can cuddle the cat too.

Tony is in the office and comes into the kitchen anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes later, always coming over to my chair, leaning down, and giving me a kiss or three. (*lucky girl* aren't I) And then he goes to the kitchen to fix breakfast -- alternating cereal (hot or cold, depending on the season) or eggs. (ditto that *lucky girl* thing)

"It's ready," he'll say. I put down the iPad and come to the table, where I dispense vitamins, we enjoy breakfast and bird watching since he's already replenished the feeders tjhat hang outside the sliding door by the table. We clear the dishes; then sit back down and read aloud, taking turns with each book, from the two books we've chosen for the year's morning readings. 

From there, depending on what's on the calendar for that day, I may go back to my chair with a second cup and browse through email and Facebook and blogs for another hour. Or I may go back to the bathroom, pausing to make the bed, and get showered and ready for what's on the agenda.

{{{Day goes along -- maybe a trip to town, to an appointment, to lunch -- maybe a movie together or a day trip or errands or grocery store. Maybe some laundry. Or cleaning. Or writing. Or reading. Lunch happens, usually together, unless I've got a lunch date. Or we decide to combine errands and lunch. Or I bring home a sandwich. We will be adding regular exercise to this timeline in 2015, either at home or at the gym. }}

Around 5 p.m., the TV news usually goes on and I begin puttering in the kitchen in preparation for supper. We generally eat between 6:30 and 7, sometimes lingering for half an hour if we're deep into a conversation. I clear the table, he does the dishes, I feed the cats, and we're ready for an evening of TV -- unless I still need to do the daily email I write to a small group of family and friends (a bit of nothing much -- what I did, what's going on with the weather, maybe a commentary about the state of life or something newsworthy, and a quotation that either reflects how I'm feeling or is something I think one of the recipients should hear), which takes maybe 20 minutes. 

We are such creatures of habit. We record a number of TV series and movies, and most always have a discussion that goes something like: "What do you feel like?" "I dunno. What do you want to watch?" "Oh, I could be up for most anything." (or, alternatively, "I don't feel much like a movie...I want something light and fluffy....I dunno.") Eventually we either take turns narrowing the choices ("Uh, Person of Interest, Agents of Shield, or Divergent.") or I just click on something (I nearly always am the mighty ruler of the TV control.)

Unless it is a movie, we do that again in the hour it takes to watch a series. I know. It's SO co-dependent. We know it too.

The exceptions are when we have both Showtime and HBO favorite Sunday night series to choose from, and we know we'll get to at least two of them, so it rarely makes a difference which we do first. And  Scandal and How to Get Away with Murder, in that order, don't need conversation to choose either. 

News at 10, and it's off. Tony goes back to the office for a last bit of computering; I usually play a game or two on the iPad, and then I'm off to get ready for bed and reading my Kindle. He'll come in, both cats leading the way, in half an hour, snuggle down, and is usually asleep quickly. I read for maybe an hour, and then it's lights out for me too, and hopefully to sleep (perchance to dream....)

Boring?
I suppose it could seem that way. It doesn't feel boring, however.

We prefer to think of our days as drama-free. We like our little routines and rituals, and even when we're traveling in Sallie Forth (our travel trailer), we follow pretty much this process.

I like waking to the same routine every day. It puts a structure, a beginning that is predictable and comforting, to another lovely day. 

Every day that we are together and feeling good, every day that allows us to control what we do and when we do it is a special day. We don't need excitement and drama and lots of socialization to feel satisfied and happy with our days, and neither of us needs to be entertained or kept busy, since we are both exceptionally self-directed with our activities and interests. If there is a downside to this, it is that we ARE such compatible creatures and enjoy our routines, and sometimes need to shake things up a bit, to change what we are doing to promote better, healthier habits. 

Life is so good, folks. We are so, so blessed. 

 

 

#Reverb 14, Day 28

Creativity: What does being creative mean to you?  How do you express your creativity?

I have always regarded myself as a creative person, pretty much centered around the various fine arts, although I learned long ago that I am more of a dabbler than a perfectionist. 

And yet when I was working, I often found new ways to look at old problems or different paths to complete a project or changing up a long-established process to make it easier and more effective. I was often self-directed, especially in the non-profit positions, which usually makes such creativity easier to implement, and I also learned how to be creative with a very small budget. When I worked for the larger corporations I was part of marketing communications, the 'creatives' part of the business, and change wasn't always as easy to do or as accepted by management. 

I learned to work with a group or a committee, but that is not an easy road, especially if personalities are strong. And sometimes I didn't work very well with a group, preferring to be solo or with only one other person. Management doesn't like that much, though.

I think creativity is the ability to see/hear/perceive something in at least a slightly different way and then to express that through whatever means is appropriate to the medium. Being a creative has been a big part of who I am throughout all my life, and I find my greatest satisfaction and joy comes from that ability to see differently -- as well as the same. 

My creative nature shows in what I wear, my jewelry, my shoes, what my house looks like, what I read, what I listen to, what I like to watch and do, even (when possible) in what I like to drive. I like being a little different, a little quirky, although it took years to embrace that. 

I'm not singing or taking photos or painting or sewing right now (all the dabbley stuff): the constant creative outlet in my life has always and continues to be writing, even if it isn't polished and perfected. I write only for me these days: while I love that people enjoy my blog or find wisdom in my writing, what I say is truly from my heart and mind, and not to please an editor or an audience. It is who I am, if you care to read it. 



 

#Reverb 14, Day 27

Creature of Habit: Did you form a new habit this year?  Or continue with an old one?  Is it a good habit?  Or one you’d like to break?

Bad habits: Sleeping past 8 a.m., sometimes way past, because I read too late or don't go to sleep easily at night; indulging too readily in candy or milkshakes or cookies that I know are going to pack on the pounds (and which have) and do not contribute to good health; putzing too much on the iPad and/or computer during the day in lieu of getting some long overdue cleaning tasks done; not climbing on the exercise bike at least three times a week NO MATTER WHAT, or going regularly to yoga. 

Good habits:  Continuing to cook most of our food from scratch, thereby controlling salt intake and other not-good ingredients; carefully regulating carb intake for most meals; practicing gratitude every day; being intentionally kinder to myself and to others. 

Lots of room for improvement. But progress continues.