Knowing how much everyone loves Christmas letters, I thought it was time to write one. My sisters and I have talked about this often but we never did it.
Let's start out at the beginning of 2007. What a year. It got off to a rocky start with Sister Betty having a stroke the last few days of 2006 and spending most of the winter/spring trying to recover some of her abilities.
In January, Vern was involved with a head-on collision that totaled his car. It seems that a drunk driver wanted the space where Vern was driving. Due to some Spiritual intervention, Vern came out of that without a scratch and they tell us that Miracles don't happen these days.
Spring was a wonderful time of the year. Vern and I went on a cruise around the Hawaiian Island. Having never been there, neither of us knew what to expect. We got what we expected.
A few months after our trip, I was invited to promote my book at a Wellness Fair in Neenah. While up there I decided to pop in on my daughter and say "Hi". I found out that she had moved in the winter to some new location. I figure she will let me know where she is when she wants me to know.
We decided to have a Couples Ice Cream Social in our back yard in the summer. It turned out wonderful. 5 couples were able to make it. It was nice to relax with friends in our back yard.
In August Vern and I went for a bike ride. I wanted to show him a new place that I had found. He was having trouble keeping up and I teased him because I am usually the one in this relationship that is trying to "keep up". I mentioned that he should talk to his doctor about this when he has his next appointment or check-up.
Halfway through August, my car backed up and knocked me over. I broke my left wrist and cracked my pelvis. Vern took a week off to help me get around and then went back to work. As of the writing of this letter, I am still recovering but getting better every day.
In September my son was released from his six years in prison. This changed a lot of things as I had all of his stuff stored in our basement.
A month after my accident, Vern had his check-up. His doctor felt that he might have had a minor heart attack a few months before and wanted to run more tests. They found arteries blocked on his heart. Later tests showed that about a sixth of his heart on the outside is dead. He is feeling much better with his new medication but now has to make a decision as to whether or not to have a pacemaker put in.
I gave myself a 70th birthday party in November as the "carrot" to getting well. It was the best party that I have ever had. 15 of my good friends came and we played Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader. Everyone went home with a prize and full of Chocolate because the theme was a Chocolate Party.
All in all it has been an interesting year. Maybe 2008 could be just a bit more boring?
Hope you have a great New Year as it is a One year. 2+0+0+8=10 and 1+0= One. That means it is the beginning of all sorts of new things. Enjoy
Friday, November 30, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
Balance
When is it time to leave the table? What happens when we find ourselves making more wrong decisions than right ones?
It is a very good thing when someone can point this out to us in a friendly manner but for the most part, if all our suggestions are repelled with the idea that we are stupid to think like that, one does start to doubt one's ability to reason.
Being very unconventional in my approach to things, it has not bothered me to have people reject my suggestions. Lately there is a feeling that perhaps others are right, that most of my suggestions or ideas are not valid. Some are even hypocritical. How can I expect others around me to want to do something when I can't even convince my own household that it is a good idea? So that idea is put into a package, tied with cording and dumped down the well. No one will really notice that it is gone.
As I find myself walking down hill a lot, I remember the times that were, and know that I will probably never be there again. I used to walk upright and strong. Now I find myself weak and unable to even hold myself up. As I have questioned in the past, when did this happen? Was it when I said good-by to my parents? I don't think so. I was still very strong then. Was it when I was helping my children? I don't know about this, because it put a lot of cracks in my armor. Was it when my sister died and I lost my family? This was the point where I knew that I couldn't paste things together anymore. I wasn't able to help those around me. This was the point where I gave up a lot of the packages that I thought I could carry and maybe even do some good. This was a major turning point in my life. I have come many times to corners and have taken 90 degree turns to start or handle something that I had never done before but this turning point was much more than a 90 degree turn. It was a bend that almost broke me. Looking back, maybe it was a green stick break? Do those ever heal to the point of being strong again?
I just finished reading a 600 page book that was very well written and has been included in Oprah's book club. It was about life in the 1970s in India. The author tries to make you think it is a fiction book but I do not believe that. I think this author took things that he witnessed in his home country and wrote a fiction around these things. There is a lot of gore and mutilation in the book but running through it is a young main character who is trying to make sense of all of this. He is young and strong. He is intelligent and helpful. The name of the book is A FINE BALANCE. Throughout the book I kept waiting for this balance or even something fine but they didn't arrived. On the last page of this story the young main character can't find a balance either and jumps in front of a train.
Is there a fine balance that one can find in life or is it just a series of situations, puzzles if you will, that need to be pieced together? When one is cleaned up, be ready for the next one? At what point do we get to sit in a balance? Are these just moments in time? A phone call that is pleasant or a 4 hour party that is wonderful, are they the moments in time that we can use for balance?
What happens when the balance doesn't come? When we are thinking things that we know isn't right? Hey, we might not know that at the time but as we ponder them, we know. A lot of times they are pointed out when we express them to others. Mind you, mostly in a very unpleasant way. I think of how my Dad must have felt when my Mother started to lose it. Is that what is happening to me? Am I loosing it? Would it not be better to leave the table?
Perhaps that is why people get angry with me? It must anger people around us when we think like this. Would it not be better to jump in front of a train than to have everyone see the stupid things that you wish to do, thinking that they would be helpful?
This was not written to invoke pity but rather to sort my feelings and see what I can do to make things go better. By pulling back and not doing things, I wouldn't make mistakes. I could do things and then let them cool for a while to see if that would really be a good idea? I could talk to people about what I am thinking of doing, with the hope that they won't laugh, ridicule or holler at me. Perhaps I am blowing all of this out of proportion and taking on "their" problems, thinking that I am supposed to solve them, when I can barely solve my own?
A fine balance would be a wonderful thing. Perhaps the author was using the word "fine" to mean thin or narrow? I will have to look at it from both sides. Life is a thin balance? Just when you think you have something orderly, it falls out of balance. Perhaps life was meant to be that way to keep us interested instead of bored?
May our lives be a little boring from time to time.
It is a very good thing when someone can point this out to us in a friendly manner but for the most part, if all our suggestions are repelled with the idea that we are stupid to think like that, one does start to doubt one's ability to reason.
Being very unconventional in my approach to things, it has not bothered me to have people reject my suggestions. Lately there is a feeling that perhaps others are right, that most of my suggestions or ideas are not valid. Some are even hypocritical. How can I expect others around me to want to do something when I can't even convince my own household that it is a good idea? So that idea is put into a package, tied with cording and dumped down the well. No one will really notice that it is gone.
As I find myself walking down hill a lot, I remember the times that were, and know that I will probably never be there again. I used to walk upright and strong. Now I find myself weak and unable to even hold myself up. As I have questioned in the past, when did this happen? Was it when I said good-by to my parents? I don't think so. I was still very strong then. Was it when I was helping my children? I don't know about this, because it put a lot of cracks in my armor. Was it when my sister died and I lost my family? This was the point where I knew that I couldn't paste things together anymore. I wasn't able to help those around me. This was the point where I gave up a lot of the packages that I thought I could carry and maybe even do some good. This was a major turning point in my life. I have come many times to corners and have taken 90 degree turns to start or handle something that I had never done before but this turning point was much more than a 90 degree turn. It was a bend that almost broke me. Looking back, maybe it was a green stick break? Do those ever heal to the point of being strong again?
I just finished reading a 600 page book that was very well written and has been included in Oprah's book club. It was about life in the 1970s in India. The author tries to make you think it is a fiction book but I do not believe that. I think this author took things that he witnessed in his home country and wrote a fiction around these things. There is a lot of gore and mutilation in the book but running through it is a young main character who is trying to make sense of all of this. He is young and strong. He is intelligent and helpful. The name of the book is A FINE BALANCE. Throughout the book I kept waiting for this balance or even something fine but they didn't arrived. On the last page of this story the young main character can't find a balance either and jumps in front of a train.
Is there a fine balance that one can find in life or is it just a series of situations, puzzles if you will, that need to be pieced together? When one is cleaned up, be ready for the next one? At what point do we get to sit in a balance? Are these just moments in time? A phone call that is pleasant or a 4 hour party that is wonderful, are they the moments in time that we can use for balance?
What happens when the balance doesn't come? When we are thinking things that we know isn't right? Hey, we might not know that at the time but as we ponder them, we know. A lot of times they are pointed out when we express them to others. Mind you, mostly in a very unpleasant way. I think of how my Dad must have felt when my Mother started to lose it. Is that what is happening to me? Am I loosing it? Would it not be better to leave the table?
Perhaps that is why people get angry with me? It must anger people around us when we think like this. Would it not be better to jump in front of a train than to have everyone see the stupid things that you wish to do, thinking that they would be helpful?
This was not written to invoke pity but rather to sort my feelings and see what I can do to make things go better. By pulling back and not doing things, I wouldn't make mistakes. I could do things and then let them cool for a while to see if that would really be a good idea? I could talk to people about what I am thinking of doing, with the hope that they won't laugh, ridicule or holler at me. Perhaps I am blowing all of this out of proportion and taking on "their" problems, thinking that I am supposed to solve them, when I can barely solve my own?
A fine balance would be a wonderful thing. Perhaps the author was using the word "fine" to mean thin or narrow? I will have to look at it from both sides. Life is a thin balance? Just when you think you have something orderly, it falls out of balance. Perhaps life was meant to be that way to keep us interested instead of bored?
May our lives be a little boring from time to time.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
The Bell Curve
I have found myself on the other side of the hill. It is a nice place to be and it is interesting what I have found that is there.
For those of you who do not know what a Bell Curve is, it was explained to me by a social worker that I worked with many years ago on the Crisis Hot-line. At the time I had custody of my mother and her actions and reactions were very strange. I mentioned this to the social worker and she asked me if I knew about the Bell Curve?
Well, I had never heard of it so she told me about it. She said that the way our lives travel is in an arc that has the look of a silhouette of a bell. It starts out on the bottom on one side at birth and as one becomes active and more able, it progresses up the side of the bell until it reaches the very top. This top could happen at any time in your life when you have felt the very best and most capable ever. How wide this bell is depends on your abilities. At some point you start stepping slowly down the other side of the bell until the very bottom is Death.
We talked about some of Mother's actions and the social worker asked if I knew anyone who is alive who knew her when she was little, like an older brother or sister. I didn't. She explained that both sides of the bell are similar in actions. Perhaps when Mother was little she wouldn't stay in bed at night either? Or some of her childhood fears could be peeking out again…she didn't like when it started to get dark at night.
Well, that’s the history so now I get to talk about the reality. For the past two years I have wanted to have parties. Before this time, life was OK but now I wanted to have people over to do things. We started slowly. At first I would haul one of my neighbors over for something cool to drink. Vern laughed because if someone we knew walked by, I would kidnap them. (In our neighborhood there is always someone just out walking or walking a dog)
Next, I organized a neighborhood ice cream social on the patio. Vern thought the whole thing was so unnecessary. I could understand this because he is working full time and seeing at least 20 people a day to talk to, while I paint, garden, or read by myself.
After the party was over, Vern thought it was great.
So the next year I organized a Couples Ice Cream Social at our house. We invited just couples that we really liked. It turned out great. This time I didn't get as much static as I had the year before.
Before we continue this, I have to tell you that as a teenager, my family was very outgoing and we had company every weekend. We lived on the edge of an 8 mile lake and we were very involved with many organizations in school and church. Have I reached that portion of my bell curve?
This year I turned 70 years old so I gave myself a girl's party. I invited 20 ladies that I really enjoy being around along with a couple of relatives and some neighbors. I made it into a children's party and called it my Chocolate Party. We had lots of chocolate cakes and cookies that my friends brought along with fudge and I had chocolate candy sitting all over the place. To balance some of this out, we had a fruit tray and a veggie tray with dips. We had nuts and pickles and cranberry punch. There was coffee and your choice of 10 teas.
It was perfect because my friend, Linda consented to host the game that I had, called ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A 5TH GRADER. At first some of my friends were a little nervous about this because they didn't want to have anyone laugh at them. As the party went along, they got into it and decided that you don't have to know "Which is the other river in the United States besides the Mississippi that is more than 2000 miles long".
Everyone was having such a great time. My friends come from all the different areas of my life, they wanted to know how the other person had met me. They formed a circle and they went around the room telling where and how they met me. After each person said something, I got to say a little about them that they hadn't shared with the group. They are all very talented people. They did get a little carried away and I had to tell them that I don't do miracles but then they are my friends.
When it was time to open my presents, I saw the bell curve in its fullest. I was handed a package and I would try to open it. I have a left hand that works but doesn't always do what I want it to. The friends sitting on either side of me, asked if they could help but 10 year old Phyllis said, "No, I can do it."
I have a feeling that is just how I was when I was little. I can dress myself! I can tie my shoes! I can do whatever I need to do! I don't need help, I can do it! I guess being the oldest of three children under the age of four, I decided then and there that I wasn't a baby. Even now I figure out how to do something rather than wait until Vern gets home from work to help.
One friend did hand me a pair of scissors to cut ribbon and paper but most of the time I made my fingers work at it. I can do it!
Where this is going to take me, I don't know, but I have seen pictures of myself when I was very little and I was a chunky little person. Didn't lose my "baby fat" until I got into kindergarten. I do know that I need to be around people so guess this isn't the last of the parties.
My friends told me that they want to come back and do an all-day brunch on 11/11/2011. I told them that I think that would be just great. So I have a big party taking place in four years. I wonder if I will have collected more interesting friends by then? Why not?
For those of you who do not know what a Bell Curve is, it was explained to me by a social worker that I worked with many years ago on the Crisis Hot-line. At the time I had custody of my mother and her actions and reactions were very strange. I mentioned this to the social worker and she asked me if I knew about the Bell Curve?
Well, I had never heard of it so she told me about it. She said that the way our lives travel is in an arc that has the look of a silhouette of a bell. It starts out on the bottom on one side at birth and as one becomes active and more able, it progresses up the side of the bell until it reaches the very top. This top could happen at any time in your life when you have felt the very best and most capable ever. How wide this bell is depends on your abilities. At some point you start stepping slowly down the other side of the bell until the very bottom is Death.
We talked about some of Mother's actions and the social worker asked if I knew anyone who is alive who knew her when she was little, like an older brother or sister. I didn't. She explained that both sides of the bell are similar in actions. Perhaps when Mother was little she wouldn't stay in bed at night either? Or some of her childhood fears could be peeking out again…she didn't like when it started to get dark at night.
Well, that’s the history so now I get to talk about the reality. For the past two years I have wanted to have parties. Before this time, life was OK but now I wanted to have people over to do things. We started slowly. At first I would haul one of my neighbors over for something cool to drink. Vern laughed because if someone we knew walked by, I would kidnap them. (In our neighborhood there is always someone just out walking or walking a dog)
Next, I organized a neighborhood ice cream social on the patio. Vern thought the whole thing was so unnecessary. I could understand this because he is working full time and seeing at least 20 people a day to talk to, while I paint, garden, or read by myself.
After the party was over, Vern thought it was great.
So the next year I organized a Couples Ice Cream Social at our house. We invited just couples that we really liked. It turned out great. This time I didn't get as much static as I had the year before.
Before we continue this, I have to tell you that as a teenager, my family was very outgoing and we had company every weekend. We lived on the edge of an 8 mile lake and we were very involved with many organizations in school and church. Have I reached that portion of my bell curve?
This year I turned 70 years old so I gave myself a girl's party. I invited 20 ladies that I really enjoy being around along with a couple of relatives and some neighbors. I made it into a children's party and called it my Chocolate Party. We had lots of chocolate cakes and cookies that my friends brought along with fudge and I had chocolate candy sitting all over the place. To balance some of this out, we had a fruit tray and a veggie tray with dips. We had nuts and pickles and cranberry punch. There was coffee and your choice of 10 teas.
It was perfect because my friend, Linda consented to host the game that I had, called ARE YOU SMARTER THAN A 5TH GRADER. At first some of my friends were a little nervous about this because they didn't want to have anyone laugh at them. As the party went along, they got into it and decided that you don't have to know "Which is the other river in the United States besides the Mississippi that is more than 2000 miles long".
Everyone was having such a great time. My friends come from all the different areas of my life, they wanted to know how the other person had met me. They formed a circle and they went around the room telling where and how they met me. After each person said something, I got to say a little about them that they hadn't shared with the group. They are all very talented people. They did get a little carried away and I had to tell them that I don't do miracles but then they are my friends.
When it was time to open my presents, I saw the bell curve in its fullest. I was handed a package and I would try to open it. I have a left hand that works but doesn't always do what I want it to. The friends sitting on either side of me, asked if they could help but 10 year old Phyllis said, "No, I can do it."
I have a feeling that is just how I was when I was little. I can dress myself! I can tie my shoes! I can do whatever I need to do! I don't need help, I can do it! I guess being the oldest of three children under the age of four, I decided then and there that I wasn't a baby. Even now I figure out how to do something rather than wait until Vern gets home from work to help.
One friend did hand me a pair of scissors to cut ribbon and paper but most of the time I made my fingers work at it. I can do it!
Where this is going to take me, I don't know, but I have seen pictures of myself when I was very little and I was a chunky little person. Didn't lose my "baby fat" until I got into kindergarten. I do know that I need to be around people so guess this isn't the last of the parties.
My friends told me that they want to come back and do an all-day brunch on 11/11/2011. I told them that I think that would be just great. So I have a big party taking place in four years. I wonder if I will have collected more interesting friends by then? Why not?
Monday, November 12, 2007
Wings of Wax
What happened to the man who created wings of wax to fly like a bird? He got greedy and wanted to go higher and higher. He flew too close to the sun and his wings melted. He died in the ocean.
We all know that something like this could never happen or could it? When we allow ourselves to be taken in to the point of thinking that we can do something we can't, most times it will create the opposite of what one expects.
It is nice to have high ideals. To reach out and see just how high one can fly, but it is also necessary to remember that only the real "Us" is allowed to do that. This body, that we live in, is created for a 3rd and 4th dimensional world.
How high have you been? Have you tripped on the moon or farther? There isn't any reason one can't do things like this. We are limited by our thoughts and feelings.
Many people do not even think that there is a possibility of flying on wings of wax. It is possible if we don't use this flight to become more than we really are.
We were given the ability to create in a non-limiting way. So why not fly? Flying is to birds what swimming is to fish. It is learning what out limitations are and superseding them.
Some people are so grounded that to even thinking beyond the always, is too hard for them. They want to keep everything just as it is right now in their world. Life isn't that way. Nothing stays stationary. From the time something is created, it is in the process of decaying, unless it is constantly up-graded, repaired or focused into being all the time.
A long time ago I learned that we always have to be recreating our world to keep it real. Have you ever seen a housewife who is constantly rearranging her furniture? She isn't neurotic. She is just trying to hang on to her reality. How many times do we walk into the same room and never notice the details of that room? That is because we have duplicated everything in our heads so it has vanished from our awareness.
Our awareness is the base for building our wings. It is the way we get to see what is, and sometimes isn't in the space that we now occupy. Are we aware of the air around us? Are we aware of the sounds around us? Are we aware of the beings that are around us?
We are lead sometimes to be there for others but we miss a lot of the signals. We are guided to places that we might never visit on our own. We are warned when we are in the wrong places but do we always listen?
Flying on wings of wax takes a bit of talent. We have been given the ability to do so and are guided to the places and people that will help us do this. But never fly so high that you can't see a bit of reality and always have a plan B. Don't forget that after each flight, one must touch base with what is around us and remember that some people have never flown. They would not relate to our tales of fancy.
Allow those who live in a different reality, the privilege of their worlds. It is the reality that they use to make all their decisions. These are not your decisions but theirs and they are beautiful decisions, for them.
Life is a wonderful trip when you have fellow travelers who can relate. Find someone who lives in your neighborhood, someone that talks your language and will share experiences of flight. We are all in the process of building our wings so we need to enjoy our creations.
We all know that something like this could never happen or could it? When we allow ourselves to be taken in to the point of thinking that we can do something we can't, most times it will create the opposite of what one expects.
It is nice to have high ideals. To reach out and see just how high one can fly, but it is also necessary to remember that only the real "Us" is allowed to do that. This body, that we live in, is created for a 3rd and 4th dimensional world.
How high have you been? Have you tripped on the moon or farther? There isn't any reason one can't do things like this. We are limited by our thoughts and feelings.
Many people do not even think that there is a possibility of flying on wings of wax. It is possible if we don't use this flight to become more than we really are.
We were given the ability to create in a non-limiting way. So why not fly? Flying is to birds what swimming is to fish. It is learning what out limitations are and superseding them.
Some people are so grounded that to even thinking beyond the always, is too hard for them. They want to keep everything just as it is right now in their world. Life isn't that way. Nothing stays stationary. From the time something is created, it is in the process of decaying, unless it is constantly up-graded, repaired or focused into being all the time.
A long time ago I learned that we always have to be recreating our world to keep it real. Have you ever seen a housewife who is constantly rearranging her furniture? She isn't neurotic. She is just trying to hang on to her reality. How many times do we walk into the same room and never notice the details of that room? That is because we have duplicated everything in our heads so it has vanished from our awareness.
Our awareness is the base for building our wings. It is the way we get to see what is, and sometimes isn't in the space that we now occupy. Are we aware of the air around us? Are we aware of the sounds around us? Are we aware of the beings that are around us?
We are lead sometimes to be there for others but we miss a lot of the signals. We are guided to places that we might never visit on our own. We are warned when we are in the wrong places but do we always listen?
Flying on wings of wax takes a bit of talent. We have been given the ability to do so and are guided to the places and people that will help us do this. But never fly so high that you can't see a bit of reality and always have a plan B. Don't forget that after each flight, one must touch base with what is around us and remember that some people have never flown. They would not relate to our tales of fancy.
Allow those who live in a different reality, the privilege of their worlds. It is the reality that they use to make all their decisions. These are not your decisions but theirs and they are beautiful decisions, for them.
Life is a wonderful trip when you have fellow travelers who can relate. Find someone who lives in your neighborhood, someone that talks your language and will share experiences of flight. We are all in the process of building our wings so we need to enjoy our creations.
Friday, November 9, 2007
Listening
What is a best friend? Or even just a good friend? I think I have figured this out. It isn't someone who comes in and fights all your battles but one who comes in and understands how you are feeling about the battle.
For the last 6 months I have been planning my 70th birthday party. I wanted to have a group of my girlfriends over for an afternoon Chocolate party. It sounded so decedent. I made a list of the friends that I enjoy being around the most and sent them invitations.
Then one of these friends that I have known for a very long time called to tell me that she was going to bring an uninvited guest, they would be coming an hour early and she was bringing a party game.
When I hung up I was upset because this wasn't in my plans. I had name tags made out for all of the guests that I had invited. I had a party game that I had worked on for a while, months and although I always expect people to arrive early, this was a lot early. I found myself nattering about this for the good part of the day.
I called a good friend only to hear that I should roll with it. Why? Why should I change my plans of 6 months to accommodate this other friend of mine? My good friend didn't really listen to how upset I was or how this was effecting me, she only wanted to "do the right thing." Isn't that nice? Some people are so sweet they don't need to be invited to a chocolate party. Did I ask for advice? NO. Even my husband wanted to solve this for me by telling me that this person was just trying to help. SO???
Then I called a lady that I have been sharing feelings with for a while, Marie. We write back and forth on the internet and call each other from time to time on the phone. Why do we do this? Why does she call Me? Because unless you ask me to help and give you advice, I won't. I don't give advice because most people don't want advice, they really just want to be heard and that is what I was looking for. I didn't want advice and most of the time neither does Marie, we just want someone to understand how we are feeling about an issue.
My sister's and I learned a long time ago that we didn't give each other advice. We are thinking people that would like to be heard. Do people think that they need to tell us what is right or wrong because we can't think for ourselves? Or do they think that we don't know the difference?
My internet friend could hear my upset and hurt. She said, "The lady sounds like she has control issues?" I told my internet friend that I don't think that she does. I believe that the controlling friend is afraid of coming to my party alone. She doesn't want to be embarrassed by my game so she wants to bring one that she knows all about. She is a very insecure person. I understood the problem but that didn't make me any less hurt and this internet friend understood this.
I made the decision to call the "controlling friend" and talk this out. This is my year of change and it means to stand up for me. Not to allow others to take over. I called and told my friend that I couldn't have her bring a person that I don't know to my party. If she needs to be picked up, my husband would be happy to do that. (He had already volunteered this as part of his solution to my problem.) I explained that I think I understand a little about what is happening in her world but to correct me if I get it wrong. She was afraid that my game would embarrass her and make her look dumb. I explained how the game is played and she felt better. Then I told her that coming an hour early would only run into my getting our lunch dishes cleaned up and put away. I told her that Vern loves to display things like cakes and candies so that if she came early, it would take away from his part. She said that she understood but I think it took her a while to process this because the next day she called to say that she was sorry that she had upset my plans. We talked and could see both sides of this story.
It isn't my intention to have to always have my own way….OK, maybe it is but I really like having friends who know that I have the ability to see both sides and will do the right thing if they allow me to have my own feelings about it. My feelings are all mine. I own them and if I don't like what I am feeling, then I have to do something about it.
It hurt a lot to have my other friend and my husband think that they had to solve this problem. It is like saying, "You aren't smart enough to do this without our input. We know right from wrong better than you do."
Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone else is just, listen.
This is the best thing that I learned while training on the Crisis Hot-Line. People around us treat us like we are stupid so by calling a hot-line where people are trained in reflective listening, you get to hear what you are saying and can make the necessary adjustments to your program.
Now that could become a problem and since I have left the hot line, I find that very few people know how to communicate. Communication is a two way street. The Hot-Line communicate is very different.
The other problem is that most people don't want to talk about feelings. If I ask my husband how he feels about something, he looks at me like I am nuts. If I ask him what he thinks about something, I get all sorts of information. Why is it hard to allow one to find out about your feelings?
When my children were younger, Kathy would call and tell me that this was a "COPE" (crisis hot-line) call. That meant, don't tell me what to do, just listen to me but we want to share so this kind'a fell by the wayside over the years.
We need people to share their ideas but there are also times when we need to be heard. How do we know the difference? If there is a problem that seems more serious then it needs listening, reflect the problem and listen. If it is just sharing what you have been doing, that is ordinary conversation.
Is it possible that most people can't tell the difference? Or is it that my life is just one big problem? One question leads to many others.
Take time to listen to someone today.
For the last 6 months I have been planning my 70th birthday party. I wanted to have a group of my girlfriends over for an afternoon Chocolate party. It sounded so decedent. I made a list of the friends that I enjoy being around the most and sent them invitations.
Then one of these friends that I have known for a very long time called to tell me that she was going to bring an uninvited guest, they would be coming an hour early and she was bringing a party game.
When I hung up I was upset because this wasn't in my plans. I had name tags made out for all of the guests that I had invited. I had a party game that I had worked on for a while, months and although I always expect people to arrive early, this was a lot early. I found myself nattering about this for the good part of the day.
I called a good friend only to hear that I should roll with it. Why? Why should I change my plans of 6 months to accommodate this other friend of mine? My good friend didn't really listen to how upset I was or how this was effecting me, she only wanted to "do the right thing." Isn't that nice? Some people are so sweet they don't need to be invited to a chocolate party. Did I ask for advice? NO. Even my husband wanted to solve this for me by telling me that this person was just trying to help. SO???
Then I called a lady that I have been sharing feelings with for a while, Marie. We write back and forth on the internet and call each other from time to time on the phone. Why do we do this? Why does she call Me? Because unless you ask me to help and give you advice, I won't. I don't give advice because most people don't want advice, they really just want to be heard and that is what I was looking for. I didn't want advice and most of the time neither does Marie, we just want someone to understand how we are feeling about an issue.
My sister's and I learned a long time ago that we didn't give each other advice. We are thinking people that would like to be heard. Do people think that they need to tell us what is right or wrong because we can't think for ourselves? Or do they think that we don't know the difference?
My internet friend could hear my upset and hurt. She said, "The lady sounds like she has control issues?" I told my internet friend that I don't think that she does. I believe that the controlling friend is afraid of coming to my party alone. She doesn't want to be embarrassed by my game so she wants to bring one that she knows all about. She is a very insecure person. I understood the problem but that didn't make me any less hurt and this internet friend understood this.
I made the decision to call the "controlling friend" and talk this out. This is my year of change and it means to stand up for me. Not to allow others to take over. I called and told my friend that I couldn't have her bring a person that I don't know to my party. If she needs to be picked up, my husband would be happy to do that. (He had already volunteered this as part of his solution to my problem.) I explained that I think I understand a little about what is happening in her world but to correct me if I get it wrong. She was afraid that my game would embarrass her and make her look dumb. I explained how the game is played and she felt better. Then I told her that coming an hour early would only run into my getting our lunch dishes cleaned up and put away. I told her that Vern loves to display things like cakes and candies so that if she came early, it would take away from his part. She said that she understood but I think it took her a while to process this because the next day she called to say that she was sorry that she had upset my plans. We talked and could see both sides of this story.
It isn't my intention to have to always have my own way….OK, maybe it is but I really like having friends who know that I have the ability to see both sides and will do the right thing if they allow me to have my own feelings about it. My feelings are all mine. I own them and if I don't like what I am feeling, then I have to do something about it.
It hurt a lot to have my other friend and my husband think that they had to solve this problem. It is like saying, "You aren't smart enough to do this without our input. We know right from wrong better than you do."
Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone else is just, listen.
This is the best thing that I learned while training on the Crisis Hot-Line. People around us treat us like we are stupid so by calling a hot-line where people are trained in reflective listening, you get to hear what you are saying and can make the necessary adjustments to your program.
Now that could become a problem and since I have left the hot line, I find that very few people know how to communicate. Communication is a two way street. The Hot-Line communicate is very different.
The other problem is that most people don't want to talk about feelings. If I ask my husband how he feels about something, he looks at me like I am nuts. If I ask him what he thinks about something, I get all sorts of information. Why is it hard to allow one to find out about your feelings?
When my children were younger, Kathy would call and tell me that this was a "COPE" (crisis hot-line) call. That meant, don't tell me what to do, just listen to me but we want to share so this kind'a fell by the wayside over the years.
We need people to share their ideas but there are also times when we need to be heard. How do we know the difference? If there is a problem that seems more serious then it needs listening, reflect the problem and listen. If it is just sharing what you have been doing, that is ordinary conversation.
Is it possible that most people can't tell the difference? Or is it that my life is just one big problem? One question leads to many others.
Take time to listen to someone today.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Machines
Could someone explain why machines are angry with me at this time? It isn't like I blamed my car for hurting me when it bumped me out of its way. Lately machines seem to be angry with me.
The first time I really didn't notice that this was directed at me. Two weeks after I got hurt, our new computer was having a problem. We called the Geek Squad and a man came out. He said that he could do something temporarily but that we needed more tests.
So we took the unit in and they ran the tests. We got a call that the Mother-board was cracked. That didn't mean a lot to us as users but when we mentioned this to computer people, they looked at us like we are violent people who throw things around all the time. "Who cracks a mother-board?"
We had to send in our tower and get it fixed. We were told that it would take a couple of weeks but it really took a month.
After getting the computer back, it started acting up. It told us that we had stolen our windows program. So then I contacted Hewlett-Packard, the makers who had repaired this newly purchased computer. After talking to three people who live somewhere in India, none of whom could solve this problem, I couldn't even get into any windows program, it was suggested that I contact Microsoft.
I contacted Microsoft and they wanted to know what number was on the back of my computer. I gave them all the numbers that I found and they weren't the right ones. Finally I found one that was acceptable and it took. We are now back in business with this machine.
The next machine that decided to alter my life was a credit card machine in a store. The customer in front of me couldn't make it work so I stood there and stood there. Finally the manager came over and asked the line of people to use another check-out counter. We did. As long as I was in that store, they never did get that machine to work.
From there I decided to get some gas for my vehicle. I drove up to the pump. Put the hose into the gas tank opening and pressed one of the three options that I had for gas prices. Nothing happened but the pump did tell me to press the pay-method key. I press "inside". Nothing happened. $29.00 was still on the top of the machine from a previous customer. So I did it again. Still nothing happened. OK, I will try something else to wake this machine up. I pressed "Here" and it automatically asked for my credit card. I pushed "cancel" and tried the "inside" button again, after all the machine was apparently working, but nothing happened. So after trying it several times with no success, I walked inside to tell the clerk that this old lady can't seem to talk to their machine.
She came out with me and had the same problems that I was having. She tried several times. I asked if I should back up to another pump. She said, "No." Then she went inside and dug up a man that must have been in the back. He came out and just touched that machine and it worked. OK, so I was dealing with a female machine who just didn't like other women.
How does one find out if a machine is male or female?
This sounds like the question I got asked many years ago by my four-year-old Grandson as we were walking back from the park. He had just told me that he wanted to grow up and own a zoo. The question was, "Grandma, how do I know if I have a Mother and a Father lion?" My answer was, "I think one has to go school and study to find out these things, but you might ask your Daddy sometime."
So are there schools where I can learn the sex of a machine?
The first time I really didn't notice that this was directed at me. Two weeks after I got hurt, our new computer was having a problem. We called the Geek Squad and a man came out. He said that he could do something temporarily but that we needed more tests.
So we took the unit in and they ran the tests. We got a call that the Mother-board was cracked. That didn't mean a lot to us as users but when we mentioned this to computer people, they looked at us like we are violent people who throw things around all the time. "Who cracks a mother-board?"
We had to send in our tower and get it fixed. We were told that it would take a couple of weeks but it really took a month.
After getting the computer back, it started acting up. It told us that we had stolen our windows program. So then I contacted Hewlett-Packard, the makers who had repaired this newly purchased computer. After talking to three people who live somewhere in India, none of whom could solve this problem, I couldn't even get into any windows program, it was suggested that I contact Microsoft.
I contacted Microsoft and they wanted to know what number was on the back of my computer. I gave them all the numbers that I found and they weren't the right ones. Finally I found one that was acceptable and it took. We are now back in business with this machine.
The next machine that decided to alter my life was a credit card machine in a store. The customer in front of me couldn't make it work so I stood there and stood there. Finally the manager came over and asked the line of people to use another check-out counter. We did. As long as I was in that store, they never did get that machine to work.
From there I decided to get some gas for my vehicle. I drove up to the pump. Put the hose into the gas tank opening and pressed one of the three options that I had for gas prices. Nothing happened but the pump did tell me to press the pay-method key. I press "inside". Nothing happened. $29.00 was still on the top of the machine from a previous customer. So I did it again. Still nothing happened. OK, I will try something else to wake this machine up. I pressed "Here" and it automatically asked for my credit card. I pushed "cancel" and tried the "inside" button again, after all the machine was apparently working, but nothing happened. So after trying it several times with no success, I walked inside to tell the clerk that this old lady can't seem to talk to their machine.
She came out with me and had the same problems that I was having. She tried several times. I asked if I should back up to another pump. She said, "No." Then she went inside and dug up a man that must have been in the back. He came out and just touched that machine and it worked. OK, so I was dealing with a female machine who just didn't like other women.
How does one find out if a machine is male or female?
This sounds like the question I got asked many years ago by my four-year-old Grandson as we were walking back from the park. He had just told me that he wanted to grow up and own a zoo. The question was, "Grandma, how do I know if I have a Mother and a Father lion?" My answer was, "I think one has to go school and study to find out these things, but you might ask your Daddy sometime."
So are there schools where I can learn the sex of a machine?
Friday, October 19, 2007
Taboo Subject - Pain
Isn't it interesting that no one wants to talk about this subject. Why do you think this is? For that matter, just what is pain? It is a subject that we are going to discuss today.
Over the course of years I have met people who look old only to find out that they are a lot younger than I am. I have met people who don't seem to function well. In the last few years I have met some who would just as soon turn in their "life" card and leave the planet. One person that I know is sure that she has a job waiting for her on the other side of death and here she lives a life of pain and hopelessness.
I didn't understand a lot of these feelings until the last few months. Pain is something I wake up with and go to bed with everyday lately. So what is this thing called pain? Pain is the response that nerves send to the brain to tell it that something is not working the way it was designed to work. It is the door bell that is ringing in hopes that someone or something will come to its rescue.
What do most people do when they are in pain? They shut off the door bell without opening the door to find out what this cry is all about. I could start taking pills that tell my brain there is nothing wrong. So instead of trying to repair what is wrong, we just tell the brain that nothing is wrong and continue with life.
What if I were to do this with my knee? I tell my brain that whatever is not functioning is really not there. Then my brain says, "Ok, if nothing is wrong, you can do……" Now, I decide that I can lift heavy things using my legs, because remember the brain is not aware that my knee has a problem. So without fixing the problem, I compound it by adding injury to what is already not working.
The alternative is to find out what is wrong and fix it. The body is capable of rebuilding but it won't do this without nutrition. Can I rebuild my knee with soup? Maybe if there are enough building blocks in the soup to do this. Can I rebuild my knee with Steak and baked potatoes? Again, maybe but we need to get all the nutrition in the body so it can choose what it needs. How do we do this?
My mentor told me that we need five things, Fruits, Vegetables, Whole grains, Nuts and Seeds. So what happens if I am not eating whole grains or seeds? Maybe I will be missing some of the minerals that seeds provide? Maybe I will be missing some of the chemicals in Whole Grains that are needed to rebuild cartledge?
In my way of thinking one can eat just about anything but it needs to be varied all the time. Each food gives the body 50 or more things that it might need. The next food will give it 50 other things that it might need.
Right now everyone is pushing protein, thinking that meat is necessary. Meat is OK, I am not a vegetarian but just about all foods contain some protein. There is protein in fruit and vegetables as well as everything else.
I did some research on inflammation and found that Oregano has 33 chemicals in it to handle inflammation, Fennel seeds have 29. Black currant, Rosemary, Thyme, and even green tea has properties that reduce inflammation. I do like chewing on Fennel seeds.
So that brings us back to pain. If we supply the body with what it needs to rebuild or handle the problem that it is dealing with, it will. What we usually don't supply the body with, is the patience it needs time to allow this to happen. We live in a world that says, I want it today. We all do this. I am going up and down the stairs with the laundry basket and a knee that is hurting. Silly thing to do. I am building a frame for a picture with clamps on the basement floor using some carpet pieces under my Left knee. (My therapist tells me that I don't have a bad knee, just one that is unhappy right now.) We have no patience.
I remember Dr. Christopher telling the class how to rebuild hips and knees with Slippery Elm compresses. He said, "When someone needs a new hip, he should be lying down with these compresses on the area. He has no business running around." Yes, it might take a while but it can be done. I wonder how long the pain would last in this case?
We actually prolong the pain by shutting it off and aggravating the area, which is just what I am going to do today. I will take a pain pill and after it takes, I will head to the store to go grocery shopping.
Have a pain free day.
Over the course of years I have met people who look old only to find out that they are a lot younger than I am. I have met people who don't seem to function well. In the last few years I have met some who would just as soon turn in their "life" card and leave the planet. One person that I know is sure that she has a job waiting for her on the other side of death and here she lives a life of pain and hopelessness.
I didn't understand a lot of these feelings until the last few months. Pain is something I wake up with and go to bed with everyday lately. So what is this thing called pain? Pain is the response that nerves send to the brain to tell it that something is not working the way it was designed to work. It is the door bell that is ringing in hopes that someone or something will come to its rescue.
What do most people do when they are in pain? They shut off the door bell without opening the door to find out what this cry is all about. I could start taking pills that tell my brain there is nothing wrong. So instead of trying to repair what is wrong, we just tell the brain that nothing is wrong and continue with life.
What if I were to do this with my knee? I tell my brain that whatever is not functioning is really not there. Then my brain says, "Ok, if nothing is wrong, you can do……" Now, I decide that I can lift heavy things using my legs, because remember the brain is not aware that my knee has a problem. So without fixing the problem, I compound it by adding injury to what is already not working.
The alternative is to find out what is wrong and fix it. The body is capable of rebuilding but it won't do this without nutrition. Can I rebuild my knee with soup? Maybe if there are enough building blocks in the soup to do this. Can I rebuild my knee with Steak and baked potatoes? Again, maybe but we need to get all the nutrition in the body so it can choose what it needs. How do we do this?
My mentor told me that we need five things, Fruits, Vegetables, Whole grains, Nuts and Seeds. So what happens if I am not eating whole grains or seeds? Maybe I will be missing some of the minerals that seeds provide? Maybe I will be missing some of the chemicals in Whole Grains that are needed to rebuild cartledge?
In my way of thinking one can eat just about anything but it needs to be varied all the time. Each food gives the body 50 or more things that it might need. The next food will give it 50 other things that it might need.
Right now everyone is pushing protein, thinking that meat is necessary. Meat is OK, I am not a vegetarian but just about all foods contain some protein. There is protein in fruit and vegetables as well as everything else.
I did some research on inflammation and found that Oregano has 33 chemicals in it to handle inflammation, Fennel seeds have 29. Black currant, Rosemary, Thyme, and even green tea has properties that reduce inflammation. I do like chewing on Fennel seeds.
So that brings us back to pain. If we supply the body with what it needs to rebuild or handle the problem that it is dealing with, it will. What we usually don't supply the body with, is the patience it needs time to allow this to happen. We live in a world that says, I want it today. We all do this. I am going up and down the stairs with the laundry basket and a knee that is hurting. Silly thing to do. I am building a frame for a picture with clamps on the basement floor using some carpet pieces under my Left knee. (My therapist tells me that I don't have a bad knee, just one that is unhappy right now.) We have no patience.
I remember Dr. Christopher telling the class how to rebuild hips and knees with Slippery Elm compresses. He said, "When someone needs a new hip, he should be lying down with these compresses on the area. He has no business running around." Yes, it might take a while but it can be done. I wonder how long the pain would last in this case?
We actually prolong the pain by shutting it off and aggravating the area, which is just what I am going to do today. I will take a pain pill and after it takes, I will head to the store to go grocery shopping.
Have a pain free day.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Little Beings
Today the little beings in my house want a lot of attention. It is my belief that they understand me better than I understand them. I have two cats. They are Ragdoll cats that are breed because they need to be around people and need attention. This is why I got them. They follow me around all day. If I am in the den, they are napping in the garden window or on the top of the television. If I am at the computer, they are on the bed. If I am working in the basement, they are down there.
Snowy is the oldest and liked to attend my herb classes. She used to walk on the table until Ken, one of my students got a chair for her and sat it next to my chair. Now she goes to that chair and sits there for the whole three hour class.
Muffin is a year younger and used to check on Vern and me in the evening. Vern would be watching something in the bedroom and I would be watching something in the Den (Opposite ends of the house) and she would run and jump on my lap. Lie there a while then run down the hall and jump on Vern chest. Vern tells me that she is his cat.
We have an emergency plan in case the house is on fire or something. Vern trained the cats to come and get treats to a whistle. So they can be called by name or by whistle. (They will even get up from a nap to come to a whistle.) The plan is that we whistle and when they come, he will grab Muffin and I will take Snowy when we leave. The bad thing about the whistle is that they think they get treats when I am just doing housework and whistling. Well, you know the old saw, "Whistling girls and cackling hens, all come out to no go ends." So I had to give up whistling.
Like children, people always think that theirs is the best in the world. Our Cats are members of our family.
I like to read and there is a series of adventure books by Jean Aue that talk about a women who lives with her animals. The descriptions of the adventures are so vivid that my cats would sit behind my head while I was reading these books. They were looking at the pictures in my head and enjoying watching the lady flying down the land, bare back on the colt that she had raised from a baby that she rescued.
When I was doing automatic writings, my cats would be running all over the place. I did this by the light of one candle at night. So I asked, "What my cats were doing?" And was told that they are chasing the beings that I had attracted with my mediation and music. So then I asked, "What do they look like to my cats?" The answer I got to that was "sparks of light." I sat there imagining something that might look like a bunch of lightening bugs in my living room.
I have met an animal whisper. Sort of like a horse whisper but she listens to what the animals have to say. It always amazes me what she learns from them.
In the reading that I have done over the years, I learned that animals have the ability to take on our physical problems, thus helping us to live longer and better. They are truly here to help us and perhaps that is why a lot of animals are being allowed in senior centers.
There have been few years in my life when I was without a pet. The dog that sat patiently next to me on the back steps when I was feeling really down. Or those trusting eyes that look at you and tell you it is going to be better soon. They never give advice or scold about what should have been done. They are just there. Isn't it nice to have a friend that doesn't judge.
I do have to mention that I had a cat named lady who would come up on my lap if I were crying and swat me in the face. It made me laugh a lot. She was a bossy cat who was raised with a dog and when that dog died, she took over and learned how to growl at strangers. When we got a companion cat for her, she let this cat know just whose house this was.
I have pictures of all the animals that we have had in the last 35 years. I did a watercolor painting of one of them and gave it to the breeder who didn't charge me for the animal. I even did a charcoal drawing of the dog we had that Blaine helped to train.
Animals and Blaine just go together. He took me to Bay Park once and showed me a wolf that lives there with a group of other wolves. This one recognizes him and comes to the fence when he arrives. Blaine usually had a hunk of jerky in his pocket for this one.
One time Blaine took me to a pet store and introduced me to a large bird. Blaine petted her and talked to her. Then he told me to pet her. She bit me. I think she thought I was a rival.
Blaine has slept in dog houses because he didn't want the dog to be alone. He always trains them and they mind him. Last week he was here and Snowy came up to greet him. He leaned down, petted and talked to her. She followed him around the whole time he was here. She even licked him to let him know that she liked his vibrations.
Little beings are important in our world. Remember that the next time you encounter one.
Snowy is the oldest and liked to attend my herb classes. She used to walk on the table until Ken, one of my students got a chair for her and sat it next to my chair. Now she goes to that chair and sits there for the whole three hour class.
Muffin is a year younger and used to check on Vern and me in the evening. Vern would be watching something in the bedroom and I would be watching something in the Den (Opposite ends of the house) and she would run and jump on my lap. Lie there a while then run down the hall and jump on Vern chest. Vern tells me that she is his cat.
We have an emergency plan in case the house is on fire or something. Vern trained the cats to come and get treats to a whistle. So they can be called by name or by whistle. (They will even get up from a nap to come to a whistle.) The plan is that we whistle and when they come, he will grab Muffin and I will take Snowy when we leave. The bad thing about the whistle is that they think they get treats when I am just doing housework and whistling. Well, you know the old saw, "Whistling girls and cackling hens, all come out to no go ends." So I had to give up whistling.
Like children, people always think that theirs is the best in the world. Our Cats are members of our family.
I like to read and there is a series of adventure books by Jean Aue that talk about a women who lives with her animals. The descriptions of the adventures are so vivid that my cats would sit behind my head while I was reading these books. They were looking at the pictures in my head and enjoying watching the lady flying down the land, bare back on the colt that she had raised from a baby that she rescued.
When I was doing automatic writings, my cats would be running all over the place. I did this by the light of one candle at night. So I asked, "What my cats were doing?" And was told that they are chasing the beings that I had attracted with my mediation and music. So then I asked, "What do they look like to my cats?" The answer I got to that was "sparks of light." I sat there imagining something that might look like a bunch of lightening bugs in my living room.
I have met an animal whisper. Sort of like a horse whisper but she listens to what the animals have to say. It always amazes me what she learns from them.
In the reading that I have done over the years, I learned that animals have the ability to take on our physical problems, thus helping us to live longer and better. They are truly here to help us and perhaps that is why a lot of animals are being allowed in senior centers.
There have been few years in my life when I was without a pet. The dog that sat patiently next to me on the back steps when I was feeling really down. Or those trusting eyes that look at you and tell you it is going to be better soon. They never give advice or scold about what should have been done. They are just there. Isn't it nice to have a friend that doesn't judge.
I do have to mention that I had a cat named lady who would come up on my lap if I were crying and swat me in the face. It made me laugh a lot. She was a bossy cat who was raised with a dog and when that dog died, she took over and learned how to growl at strangers. When we got a companion cat for her, she let this cat know just whose house this was.
I have pictures of all the animals that we have had in the last 35 years. I did a watercolor painting of one of them and gave it to the breeder who didn't charge me for the animal. I even did a charcoal drawing of the dog we had that Blaine helped to train.
Animals and Blaine just go together. He took me to Bay Park once and showed me a wolf that lives there with a group of other wolves. This one recognizes him and comes to the fence when he arrives. Blaine usually had a hunk of jerky in his pocket for this one.
One time Blaine took me to a pet store and introduced me to a large bird. Blaine petted her and talked to her. Then he told me to pet her. She bit me. I think she thought I was a rival.
Blaine has slept in dog houses because he didn't want the dog to be alone. He always trains them and they mind him. Last week he was here and Snowy came up to greet him. He leaned down, petted and talked to her. She followed him around the whole time he was here. She even licked him to let him know that she liked his vibrations.
Little beings are important in our world. Remember that the next time you encounter one.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Feeling Spring
One is supposed to feel like spring when it is spring but today I feel like spring. Life has lifted one of it's heavy burdens and created the feeling of being light or lighter. Maybe with a play on words one can say that we are all beings of light but are so encrusted with "crud" that our light has trouble getting out. Today that light shines.
How can little things, like being treated right, cast off enough to enlighten a person? And in reverse, how can being treated badly, make one feel unworthy? We are such insecure beings that we doubt the fact that we are gods and goddesses. (Created in the image…) We believe all the little things that are taking place around us and build our world using them as the building blocks. A lot of these blocks are unstable and unable to hold the weight that we must put on them every day. Little at a time these blocks wear away or crumble, making our structure fragile and insecure.
Well, yesterday a very fragile and insecure foundation block in my life was replaced with a very sturdy and wonderful replacement. Just replacing this one block was able to shore up a large portion of my world. It was wonderful, hence, the feeling of spring.
What if each of us could do this for one other person? Imagine what that would do to the world around us? If we could stabilize one other person or help them to feel good enough about themselves so that they could at least feel the light that burns inside of them.
There are so many people who try to do this and it doesn't always work, why is that? Because they don't hold the key to the block that is crumbling? So does that mean that only the key holders are able to do this for another person? Perhaps but we all need to be there to support the unstable being until the key holder steps up to the plate.
Is it possible to move ahead in life and replace these blocks one's self? All I have been able to do is make sure that the blocks on either side of the crumbling one is sturdy enough to hold the weight put on it by the lack of support created by this problem.
It seems that I have gotten a long way off this wonderful feeling of being a part of the light and feeling whole again. There are still blocks in my life that are in bad shape but at least one of them has been made whole again and no one will know how important this is to my well-being. Life looks hopeful. May all who read this enjoy - spring.
How can little things, like being treated right, cast off enough to enlighten a person? And in reverse, how can being treated badly, make one feel unworthy? We are such insecure beings that we doubt the fact that we are gods and goddesses. (Created in the image…) We believe all the little things that are taking place around us and build our world using them as the building blocks. A lot of these blocks are unstable and unable to hold the weight that we must put on them every day. Little at a time these blocks wear away or crumble, making our structure fragile and insecure.
Well, yesterday a very fragile and insecure foundation block in my life was replaced with a very sturdy and wonderful replacement. Just replacing this one block was able to shore up a large portion of my world. It was wonderful, hence, the feeling of spring.
What if each of us could do this for one other person? Imagine what that would do to the world around us? If we could stabilize one other person or help them to feel good enough about themselves so that they could at least feel the light that burns inside of them.
There are so many people who try to do this and it doesn't always work, why is that? Because they don't hold the key to the block that is crumbling? So does that mean that only the key holders are able to do this for another person? Perhaps but we all need to be there to support the unstable being until the key holder steps up to the plate.
Is it possible to move ahead in life and replace these blocks one's self? All I have been able to do is make sure that the blocks on either side of the crumbling one is sturdy enough to hold the weight put on it by the lack of support created by this problem.
It seems that I have gotten a long way off this wonderful feeling of being a part of the light and feeling whole again. There are still blocks in my life that are in bad shape but at least one of them has been made whole again and no one will know how important this is to my well-being. Life looks hopeful. May all who read this enjoy - spring.
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Marker
I have been asked about having a marker on my grave. This is a very interesting subject. Let's look at what it is saying. To have to put my name in stone somewhere must mean that I am worried about being forgotten when I leave this life?
Do you remember your great-grand parents? Is it important to remember them longer than you can think back? When we remember people who have moved on, do we tug on their energy while they are in service somewhere else?
Let's take a walk through a cemetery. If we are in an older section, most of the information has been lost to the elements. Why do you think that this is so, basic recycling of the stones? Or is it a way to help everyone to move ahead without strings attached to a three-dimensional world?
If you are ordering your own headstone, perhaps it is an ego trip where one needs to be remembered by anyone that passes. The people to whom you have left an impression with (favorable or not) will remember you as long as they have memory.
Personally I do not want a marker at all. I plan to be cremated and left in a woods with my friends, the plants that have given me so much over the years. My marker could be my teachings, my students, my books and all the memories that I invoke in the people that I knew.
Now let's look at the big picture. How many markers have my name on them at the present time? Is there one written in Chinese sitting near a temple in Southern China? What kind of a marker was put up in the old west (USA) for me? Was it just two pieces of Manzanita tied together with my bandana? In 1922, did someone put a marker up for the farmer that died under a bridge? (see story called 1922. Found in my older blog. www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com)
Do we need to be remembered for generation after generation? All my genealogy friends can send their opinion to: oakwelherb@aol.com
Do you remember your great-grand parents? Is it important to remember them longer than you can think back? When we remember people who have moved on, do we tug on their energy while they are in service somewhere else?
Let's take a walk through a cemetery. If we are in an older section, most of the information has been lost to the elements. Why do you think that this is so, basic recycling of the stones? Or is it a way to help everyone to move ahead without strings attached to a three-dimensional world?
If you are ordering your own headstone, perhaps it is an ego trip where one needs to be remembered by anyone that passes. The people to whom you have left an impression with (favorable or not) will remember you as long as they have memory.
Personally I do not want a marker at all. I plan to be cremated and left in a woods with my friends, the plants that have given me so much over the years. My marker could be my teachings, my students, my books and all the memories that I invoke in the people that I knew.
Now let's look at the big picture. How many markers have my name on them at the present time? Is there one written in Chinese sitting near a temple in Southern China? What kind of a marker was put up in the old west (USA) for me? Was it just two pieces of Manzanita tied together with my bandana? In 1922, did someone put a marker up for the farmer that died under a bridge? (see story called 1922. Found in my older blog. www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com)
Do we need to be remembered for generation after generation? All my genealogy friends can send their opinion to: oakwelherb@aol.com
Monday, September 3, 2007
Night People
We are trained to respond to deadlines, bells, whistles, alarm clocks from the time that we start school, even sooner if our parents are both in the work force. What does that say about us as a people? Maybe that we are well trained? But what has it done to the spiritual person that lives inside of these bodies?
All my growing up years my father tried to change me from an evening person to a morning person. He talked about how he respected farmers more than people who grew up in cities and towns because they got up early to tend their animals etc. When that didn't make an impression on me, he tried to tease me about my habit of being able to get a lot done in the evening hours and couldn't focus in the mornings. He had a saying that went like this, "Lazy people work the best when the sun is in the west."
I understand all the principles but still my body seems to have a mind of its own. Perhaps there are "evening" people and "morning" people?
I have three children. One is a morning person, who is ready to run the race of the day at 6:00 am. I was so happy when he reached his fourth birthday and could fix his own cold cereal breakfast every morning. He used to get very upset as he got older when we would allow every to stay up late to watch a movie. On the stroke of 9:00 pm, he would fall asleep in the chair, on the floor or anywhere he was at the time, never seeing the endings.
Another one of my children had night and day mixed up most of his life. He hated to get up in the morning but was able to function very well in his afternoons and evenings. There were times that I would find him up in the middle of the night just wandering in the dark, fully conscience, not sleep walking. He is in his forties and can do what society requires but still does his best work after supper.
My daughter told me that she would prefer to work the evening shift at a job but has trained herself to work days. I know for a fact when she goes to a later sift job, she is a happier person.
How come that isn't taken into consideration when one applies for a job?
I did a study to see if being a morning person or a night person had anything to do with birth time, the time of day that one was born. I found no correlation.
I remember when I was working for Farmer's Fire Insurance Company. We had many kinds of home insurance policies. There was New Business, where a house was being insured by these people for the first time. Some of these houses were in the mountains, some in cities and some in the countryside.
Some fancy person had come into this company to "help" it run more efficiently. They had figured out that it take a person .003 seconds to pick up a pencil and .001 seconds to pick up an erasure, ect. Bottom line was that in a working day a person could process 189 new business applications each day. As I mentioned before, we had many different kinds of policies having different time rates that one could complete in a day. I never seemed to make quota so I asked the other people in my department, how they did it. What they told me was that "you tell them what they want to hear." This was interesting. Everyone but Phyllis was making Quota. Could I do this with lying? It was time to work out something that I could live with.
The policies of houses in the mountains had to be mapped out individually to find out what fire zone they were in. This took time and the "Time-management" people had figured this into the factor. One only had to do 58 of these a day. Most of my co-workers hated to go to the maps and look them up. I love to read maps and am rather good at it. I can tell if you live on the east side of the street or the west by your street number so I would trade three for one so these girls didn't have to "think."
As I mentioned, I work best in the afternoon, so my plan was to look all the policies up before I went home at night and process them in the morning. This company started at 7:00 in the morning and closed up at 4:30 in the afternoon. Hey, at 4:30 I'm just starting to hit full speed.
Guess the world isn't made for me or people like me who are evening people?
All my growing up years my father tried to change me from an evening person to a morning person. He talked about how he respected farmers more than people who grew up in cities and towns because they got up early to tend their animals etc. When that didn't make an impression on me, he tried to tease me about my habit of being able to get a lot done in the evening hours and couldn't focus in the mornings. He had a saying that went like this, "Lazy people work the best when the sun is in the west."
I understand all the principles but still my body seems to have a mind of its own. Perhaps there are "evening" people and "morning" people?
I have three children. One is a morning person, who is ready to run the race of the day at 6:00 am. I was so happy when he reached his fourth birthday and could fix his own cold cereal breakfast every morning. He used to get very upset as he got older when we would allow every to stay up late to watch a movie. On the stroke of 9:00 pm, he would fall asleep in the chair, on the floor or anywhere he was at the time, never seeing the endings.
Another one of my children had night and day mixed up most of his life. He hated to get up in the morning but was able to function very well in his afternoons and evenings. There were times that I would find him up in the middle of the night just wandering in the dark, fully conscience, not sleep walking. He is in his forties and can do what society requires but still does his best work after supper.
My daughter told me that she would prefer to work the evening shift at a job but has trained herself to work days. I know for a fact when she goes to a later sift job, she is a happier person.
How come that isn't taken into consideration when one applies for a job?
I did a study to see if being a morning person or a night person had anything to do with birth time, the time of day that one was born. I found no correlation.
I remember when I was working for Farmer's Fire Insurance Company. We had many kinds of home insurance policies. There was New Business, where a house was being insured by these people for the first time. Some of these houses were in the mountains, some in cities and some in the countryside.
Some fancy person had come into this company to "help" it run more efficiently. They had figured out that it take a person .003 seconds to pick up a pencil and .001 seconds to pick up an erasure, ect. Bottom line was that in a working day a person could process 189 new business applications each day. As I mentioned before, we had many different kinds of policies having different time rates that one could complete in a day. I never seemed to make quota so I asked the other people in my department, how they did it. What they told me was that "you tell them what they want to hear." This was interesting. Everyone but Phyllis was making Quota. Could I do this with lying? It was time to work out something that I could live with.
The policies of houses in the mountains had to be mapped out individually to find out what fire zone they were in. This took time and the "Time-management" people had figured this into the factor. One only had to do 58 of these a day. Most of my co-workers hated to go to the maps and look them up. I love to read maps and am rather good at it. I can tell if you live on the east side of the street or the west by your street number so I would trade three for one so these girls didn't have to "think."
As I mentioned, I work best in the afternoon, so my plan was to look all the policies up before I went home at night and process them in the morning. This company started at 7:00 in the morning and closed up at 4:30 in the afternoon. Hey, at 4:30 I'm just starting to hit full speed.
Guess the world isn't made for me or people like me who are evening people?
Night people
We are trained to respond to deadlines, bells, whistles, alarm clocks from the time that we start school, even sooner if our parents are both in the work force. What does that say about us as a people? Maybe that we are well trained? But what has it done to the spiritual person that lives inside of these bodies?
All my growing up years my father tried to change me from an evening person to a morning person. He talked about how he respected farmers more than people who grew up in cities and towns because they got up early to tend their animals etc. When that didn't make an impression on me, he tried to tease me about my habit of being able to get a lot done in the evening hours and couldn't focus in the mornings. He had a saying that went like this, "Lazy people work the best when the sun is in the west."
I understand all the principles but still my body seems to have a mind of its own. Perhaps there are "evening" people and "morning" people?
I have three children. One is a morning person, who is ready to run the race of the day at 6:00 am. I was so happy when he reached his fourth birthday and could fix his own cold cereal breakfast every morning. He used to get very upset as he got older when we would allow every to stay up late to watch a movie. On the stroke of 9:00 pm, he would fall asleep in the chair, on the floor or anywhere he was at the time, never seeing the endings.
Another one of my children had night and day mixed up most of his life. He hated to get up in the morning but was able to function very well in his afternoons and evenings. There were times that I would find him up in the middle of the night just wandering in the dark, fully conscience, not sleep walking. He is in his forties and can do what society requires but still does his best work after supper.
My daughter told me that she would prefer to work the evening shift at a job but has trained herself to work days. I know for a fact when she goes to a later sift job, she is a happier person.
How come that isn't taken into consideration when one applies for a job?
I did a study to see if being a morning person or a night person had anything to do with birth time, the time of day that one was born. I found no correlation.
I remember when I was working for Farmer's Fire Insurance Company. We had many kinds of home insurance policies. There was New Business, where a house was being insured by these people for the first time. Some of these houses were in the mountains, some in cities and some in the countryside.
Some fancy person had come into this company to "help" it run more efficiently. They had figured out that it take a person .003 seconds to pick up a pencil and .001 seconds to pick up an erasure, ect. Bottom line was that in a working day a person could process 189 new business applications each day. As I mentioned before, we had many different kinds of policies having different time rates that one could complete in a day. I never seemed to make quota so I asked the other people in my department, how they did it. What they told me was that "you tell them what they want to hear." This was interesting. Everyone but Phyllis was making Quota. Could I do this with lying? It was time to work out something that I could live with.
The policies of houses in the mountains had to be mapped out individually to find out what fire zone they were in. This took time and the "Time-management" people had figured this into the factor. One only had to do 58 of these a day. Most of my co-workers hated to go to the maps and look them up. I love to read maps and am rather good at it. I can tell if you live on the east side of the street or the west by your street number so I would trade three for one so these girls didn't have to "think."
As I mentioned, I work best in the afternoon, so my plan was to look all the policies up before I went home at night and process them in the morning. This company started at 7:00 in the morning and closed up at 4:30 in the afternoon. Hey, at 4:30 I'm just starting to hit full speed.
Guess the world isn't made for me or people like me who are evening people?
We are trained to respond to deadlines, bells, whistles, alarm clocks from the time that we start school, even sooner if our parents are both in the work force. What does that say about us as a people? Maybe that we are well trained? But what has it done to the spiritual person that lives inside of these bodies?
All my growing up years my father tried to change me from an evening person to a morning person. He talked about how he respected farmers more than people who grew up in cities and towns because they got up early to tend their animals etc. When that didn't make an impression on me, he tried to tease me about my habit of being able to get a lot done in the evening hours and couldn't focus in the mornings. He had a saying that went like this, "Lazy people work the best when the sun is in the west."
I understand all the principles but still my body seems to have a mind of its own. Perhaps there are "evening" people and "morning" people?
I have three children. One is a morning person, who is ready to run the race of the day at 6:00 am. I was so happy when he reached his fourth birthday and could fix his own cold cereal breakfast every morning. He used to get very upset as he got older when we would allow every to stay up late to watch a movie. On the stroke of 9:00 pm, he would fall asleep in the chair, on the floor or anywhere he was at the time, never seeing the endings.
Another one of my children had night and day mixed up most of his life. He hated to get up in the morning but was able to function very well in his afternoons and evenings. There were times that I would find him up in the middle of the night just wandering in the dark, fully conscience, not sleep walking. He is in his forties and can do what society requires but still does his best work after supper.
My daughter told me that she would prefer to work the evening shift at a job but has trained herself to work days. I know for a fact when she goes to a later sift job, she is a happier person.
How come that isn't taken into consideration when one applies for a job?
I did a study to see if being a morning person or a night person had anything to do with birth time, the time of day that one was born. I found no correlation.
I remember when I was working for Farmer's Fire Insurance Company. We had many kinds of home insurance policies. There was New Business, where a house was being insured by these people for the first time. Some of these houses were in the mountains, some in cities and some in the countryside.
Some fancy person had come into this company to "help" it run more efficiently. They had figured out that it take a person .003 seconds to pick up a pencil and .001 seconds to pick up an erasure, ect. Bottom line was that in a working day a person could process 189 new business applications each day. As I mentioned before, we had many different kinds of policies having different time rates that one could complete in a day. I never seemed to make quota so I asked the other people in my department, how they did it. What they told me was that "you tell them what they want to hear." This was interesting. Everyone but Phyllis was making Quota. Could I do this with lying? It was time to work out something that I could live with.
The policies of houses in the mountains had to be mapped out individually to find out what fire zone they were in. This took time and the "Time-management" people had figured this into the factor. One only had to do 58 of these a day. Most of my co-workers hated to go to the maps and look them up. I love to read maps and am rather good at it. I can tell if you live on the east side of the street or the west by your street number so I would trade three for one so these girls didn't have to "think."
As I mentioned, I work best in the afternoon, so my plan was to look all the policies up before I went home at night and process them in the morning. This company started at 7:00 in the morning and closed up at 4:30 in the afternoon. Hey, at 4:30 I'm just starting to hit full speed.
Guess the world isn't made for me or people like me who are evening people?
Thursday, August 30, 2007
A Love Story - Retold
When I moved my family back to Wisconsin in 1976, I decided to make the transition as easy as possible for me. I knew there would be adjustments but I wanted some continuity in my life. When we arrived, life seemed to be shutting down for the winter. I needed to have a little bit of sunshine from time to time.
People often asked me how I could move from California to Wisconsin. I tried to explain it by telling them that in Wisconsin, ones goes from a heated house to a heated car to a heated work place. In California ones goes from an air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned work place. It has nothing to do with the climate; it is all about the people. It doesn't make any difference where you live; it is about the people that you meet.
One of the first things that I did was to go to Mason's Flower shop and make a deal with them. Every Monday morning they would deliver a small floral arrangement to my office and bill me monthly.
One Monday morning a salesman was sitting there when the flowers arrived. He made a comment about how wonderful it was to be getting flowers. I told him that I got them every week from my best friend. I don't know what he thought about that but it was true; I was my very best friend at that time. I hadn't really gotten to know anyone else outside of my family.
Unless we love ourselves, we can't expect others to love us? I know that sounds narcissistic but it is necessary to feel good about ourselves. If we are expecting other people to love us and make us happy, we haven't read the book because it doesn't work that way.
It is the same with anything that we have. If we want someone to buy our house, then we had better love it and make sure that it is full of love when it is shown to buyers. How about selling a car? If you don't like that car, it will be evident to anyone around. This stuff is tangible!
How about the rule that there is only one person of the opposite sex meant for you? That certainly would be nice but it has not been my experience. When you are lucky enough to find someone that you can have fun with, who makes you smile and you feel good around, you are truly blessed. I have met a few who have made me feel special and some who bring out the best in me, but to expect one person to do it all, is a hard find and if you do, my hat is off to you. My friend, Dorothy talks about this a lot. She tells me that is why she has such a variety of friends. No one person can do it all.
Some people need others around them all the time to make them feel good. I find that rather sad because there are times when we need to know that we can have a good time just being a one-some instead of always a two-some. It is important to enjoy your own company. I know a person who can never be without sound in his life. Day or night he has sound, the TV, the radio, his cell phone, always something to distract him from being with himself. How do you learn about self in a crowd of noises?
Being in love is a special thing. Most of us want this to "be in-love" with someone else. It is OK to just be in love. Find something that makes you laugh. Find something that makes you happy. I would even settle for "pleased" at times.
Love is all around us but we tend to see only the ordinary/unlovable. What can we find to love in this world? How about loving the robin outside the window? How about loving the way the shadows fall on the newly cut grass? How about just loving the fact that we are alive and able to love? I find that I just enjoying feelings, an "In Love" situation is a wonderful feeling.
Why would someone not like themselves? Maybe someone has told them that they are unlovable or they did something that makes them have that feeling. That can be turned around very easily. Find something that you love about yourself. How about the color of your eyes? How about the feeling you get when you hear certain music? We were created in love, therefore we are lovable.
A long time ago, I figured out that Love is the glue that holds the universe together so we all have to do our part. Love something today!
People often asked me how I could move from California to Wisconsin. I tried to explain it by telling them that in Wisconsin, ones goes from a heated house to a heated car to a heated work place. In California ones goes from an air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned work place. It has nothing to do with the climate; it is all about the people. It doesn't make any difference where you live; it is about the people that you meet.
One of the first things that I did was to go to Mason's Flower shop and make a deal with them. Every Monday morning they would deliver a small floral arrangement to my office and bill me monthly.
One Monday morning a salesman was sitting there when the flowers arrived. He made a comment about how wonderful it was to be getting flowers. I told him that I got them every week from my best friend. I don't know what he thought about that but it was true; I was my very best friend at that time. I hadn't really gotten to know anyone else outside of my family.
Unless we love ourselves, we can't expect others to love us? I know that sounds narcissistic but it is necessary to feel good about ourselves. If we are expecting other people to love us and make us happy, we haven't read the book because it doesn't work that way.
It is the same with anything that we have. If we want someone to buy our house, then we had better love it and make sure that it is full of love when it is shown to buyers. How about selling a car? If you don't like that car, it will be evident to anyone around. This stuff is tangible!
How about the rule that there is only one person of the opposite sex meant for you? That certainly would be nice but it has not been my experience. When you are lucky enough to find someone that you can have fun with, who makes you smile and you feel good around, you are truly blessed. I have met a few who have made me feel special and some who bring out the best in me, but to expect one person to do it all, is a hard find and if you do, my hat is off to you. My friend, Dorothy talks about this a lot. She tells me that is why she has such a variety of friends. No one person can do it all.
Some people need others around them all the time to make them feel good. I find that rather sad because there are times when we need to know that we can have a good time just being a one-some instead of always a two-some. It is important to enjoy your own company. I know a person who can never be without sound in his life. Day or night he has sound, the TV, the radio, his cell phone, always something to distract him from being with himself. How do you learn about self in a crowd of noises?
Being in love is a special thing. Most of us want this to "be in-love" with someone else. It is OK to just be in love. Find something that makes you laugh. Find something that makes you happy. I would even settle for "pleased" at times.
Love is all around us but we tend to see only the ordinary/unlovable. What can we find to love in this world? How about loving the robin outside the window? How about loving the way the shadows fall on the newly cut grass? How about just loving the fact that we are alive and able to love? I find that I just enjoying feelings, an "In Love" situation is a wonderful feeling.
Why would someone not like themselves? Maybe someone has told them that they are unlovable or they did something that makes them have that feeling. That can be turned around very easily. Find something that you love about yourself. How about the color of your eyes? How about the feeling you get when you hear certain music? We were created in love, therefore we are lovable.
A long time ago, I figured out that Love is the glue that holds the universe together so we all have to do our part. Love something today!
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Vehicles
Lately I have been thinking about the cars that I have known. I know, it should be about the people that I have known but cars are interesting.
One time I sat outside of the place where I worked and watched all the vehicles go by on the freeway. What an interesting concept. They are a lot like people. They come in various shapes and sizes. While I was watching I saw a big truck go by followed by a very small car. Then there was the snazzy expensive car going around the pickup truck. They come in all colors and conditions too. Some cars are so well taken care of and others are so beaten up.
What they all have in common is that there is an intelligent being (Hopefully) sitting the in driver's seat in command of where it is going. A vehicle really is just an artificial body. The purpose is to get the intelligent being from one place to another faster than they can in the flesh body that they inhabit.
All the cars that I have known seem to have a personality that goes along with their looks. Like pets, I have named the ones that I have known personally. I remember a really hot,red-Dodge Dart that had trouble keeping it under 70 miles per hour. I rented her to a guy that wanted something to take him to Phoenix. I told him that she was spunky. (In the early '70's, I managed an Avis franchise.)
Avis story: I had a middle aged French couple come in and all I had was standard shifting vehicles left on the lot. They didn't speak any English. They showed me that they wanted to go to Yosemite so in pantomime, I showed them how to use a standard shift. When they drove off the lot, I followed them. When they got stuck in the middle of an intersection, I parked and showed them again how to let up on the clutch while applying the gas and shift gears. I followed them for a few more blocks until I was sure that they were going to be all right. I did this hoping that someone would do this for my parents when they were traveling somewhere that didn't understand English.
How about the little blue Sprite? Larry and I went to Las Vegas in one that we had in the early '60s. Going from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, one climbs into the high desert. We were going to meet my sister Donna and her husband there. Now in the high desert at night in the wintertime, it gets really cold and this little car had a heater that got smaller and smaller as we traveled. I remember reaching behind the seats into the back of the vehicle and opening the suitcases to pull out our bathing towels to stuff in the braces of the soft top and then pull our bathrobes out to put around us. We joked that when we got there someone would have to chip us out of this little car. This Sprite was so funny; we played tag with trucks all the way there. We would zip up a hill and pass a truck, then on the downhill side they would go flying by us.
Automobiles have become a symbol of independence. For many years, when I was in California we only had one car, a station wagon to take all the things one needed for our family. When Larry was gone, I would be at home without the freedom to do anything. So he got a car for me. It was an old pink Cadillac. Remember the fins and the long fronts on these cars? They were a challenge because one never was sure how far from the building you were parking. You couldn't see where the back or the front ended, but it took my kids and my neighbors, along with their kids to the lake north of Merced many times.
Larry drove a Blue VW bug when Loren was very little. So whenever Loren saw a VW bug, he called it a Daddy Car. And it was. He carried a VW bug Hot-Wheels (small toy car) with him in his pocket. When Blaine was old enough he always had a different Hot-Wheels car in each of his pockets.
My father had Dodge vehicles because the Dodge dealer in Shawano was a friend of his. Dad had Dodge trucks for his business. One of Dad's theories was that people like to deal with successful people. So every three years he traded in his car and got a new one.
I can say that I am personally responsible for damaging one of these vehicles twice. Once I had a car full of girls that was being chased by a car full of boys and I went around a corner too closely. We pulled the fender out and Dad was somewhat understanding. The second time that I damaged this same car, I had to pay for it. In that case, I had used the extra space that a fire hydrant takes up to do my parallel parking. The hydrant in from of Koepsels store was really leaning out into the street (the whole sidewalk was sitting at a 30 degree angle) and as I backed in to the spot behind it, I heard a screech as it sliding down the side of the car. It looked like it had been keyed on the passenger's side.
Do we give more attention to our cars than we do to people? When I first married Vern, his sister-in-law told me that he had washed the paint off his first car. I believe that because Vern likes to have everything he owns look just so.
What do our cars say about us? Some people have cars that are always clean inside and out. Other cars look like they belong to a person who is living out of them.
I have never owned a new car but I remember the smell that my Dad's cars had. When I was working for him, he wanted me to have a new company car. Somehow that didn't work for me. As a divorced woman, I needed to have my own things. Having my own car did that for me. Plus I had a teenager and I didn't want to be responsible for a company car with her driving.
One day when I first came back to Wisconsin from California, I left the office for lunch and drove out to a stop sign. It was winter and icy but I was being very careful. While waiting for the light to turn green, I watched a car that was spinning out of control coming over the hill in my direction. My first reaction was to slam my car into reverse and get out of the trajectory. I looked behind and there was someone sitting right behind me so I couldn't shift gears. I crossed my hands over the steering wheel, put my face into them and waited. The car hit, knocking all the windows out of the other car. There was an old man in it and without windows; he would be cold waiting for the police, which another person had called. My right front fender was damaged but I was warm and cozy. I told him to get into my car while we waited. He was so upset and worried. He was sure that he would lose his license to drive. (Remember this is a sign of independence. We all want this for as long as we can hold on to it) I'm not sure if he did or did not lose his license but when I went back to work, my co-workers wanted to know what had happened to my car. I told them that I do anything these days to meet men and I met a really nice one from Gillette.
When I got custody of my Mother because Dad died and Mother had a mild case of Alzheimer's, (they called it Sundowning because she became very upset at dusk.) Mother went with me all the time. It was like having another child to watch. For a while she had complained that she never got to drive anymore. So one day when we were at Walgreens, about 4 blocks from our house, I asked her if she would mind driving home because I had a terrible headache. It was early afternoon and the traffic was nothing. She got into the driver's seat and drove us home. She drove straddling the center line at about 5 to 7 miles per hour. I didn't say anything but just allowed her to do this. After that experience, she never asked to drive again. When I told Vern about this, he couldn't believe what I had done this. He brings it up from time to time even now. Mother had been driving since she was a teenager on her parents farm so not driving was a very important loss.
Cars don't seem that important to me as they seem to be for others. I feel that I am driving for everyone around me when I go out. I even mention to others that in every vehicle you see on the road, there is a person on some drug sitting in the driver's seat. Sure it might be just an aspirin but everyone is on something. There are very few people who are not taking some drug at this time.
So a really good day for me is to do all my errands on my bike and not take my car out of the garage. When I have to drive for a long ways, I find myself getting worn out just driving. I have even taken people to appointments and after driving them home, I have to give myself a pep talk to get home myself. Sometimes my car sits in the garage for almost a week without being driven. This is one of the nice things about living in a very small town.
When my son was trying to talk me into getting a computer, he mentioned that he understood my feelings about artificial intelligence. He felt that it was similar to my feelings about artificial bodies (Cars), artificial flowers, even prints of paintings. Boy,what does that say about me if I can only have the real thing?
One time I sat outside of the place where I worked and watched all the vehicles go by on the freeway. What an interesting concept. They are a lot like people. They come in various shapes and sizes. While I was watching I saw a big truck go by followed by a very small car. Then there was the snazzy expensive car going around the pickup truck. They come in all colors and conditions too. Some cars are so well taken care of and others are so beaten up.
What they all have in common is that there is an intelligent being (Hopefully) sitting the in driver's seat in command of where it is going. A vehicle really is just an artificial body. The purpose is to get the intelligent being from one place to another faster than they can in the flesh body that they inhabit.
All the cars that I have known seem to have a personality that goes along with their looks. Like pets, I have named the ones that I have known personally. I remember a really hot,red-Dodge Dart that had trouble keeping it under 70 miles per hour. I rented her to a guy that wanted something to take him to Phoenix. I told him that she was spunky. (In the early '70's, I managed an Avis franchise.)
Avis story: I had a middle aged French couple come in and all I had was standard shifting vehicles left on the lot. They didn't speak any English. They showed me that they wanted to go to Yosemite so in pantomime, I showed them how to use a standard shift. When they drove off the lot, I followed them. When they got stuck in the middle of an intersection, I parked and showed them again how to let up on the clutch while applying the gas and shift gears. I followed them for a few more blocks until I was sure that they were going to be all right. I did this hoping that someone would do this for my parents when they were traveling somewhere that didn't understand English.
How about the little blue Sprite? Larry and I went to Las Vegas in one that we had in the early '60s. Going from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, one climbs into the high desert. We were going to meet my sister Donna and her husband there. Now in the high desert at night in the wintertime, it gets really cold and this little car had a heater that got smaller and smaller as we traveled. I remember reaching behind the seats into the back of the vehicle and opening the suitcases to pull out our bathing towels to stuff in the braces of the soft top and then pull our bathrobes out to put around us. We joked that when we got there someone would have to chip us out of this little car. This Sprite was so funny; we played tag with trucks all the way there. We would zip up a hill and pass a truck, then on the downhill side they would go flying by us.
Automobiles have become a symbol of independence. For many years, when I was in California we only had one car, a station wagon to take all the things one needed for our family. When Larry was gone, I would be at home without the freedom to do anything. So he got a car for me. It was an old pink Cadillac. Remember the fins and the long fronts on these cars? They were a challenge because one never was sure how far from the building you were parking. You couldn't see where the back or the front ended, but it took my kids and my neighbors, along with their kids to the lake north of Merced many times.
Larry drove a Blue VW bug when Loren was very little. So whenever Loren saw a VW bug, he called it a Daddy Car. And it was. He carried a VW bug Hot-Wheels (small toy car) with him in his pocket. When Blaine was old enough he always had a different Hot-Wheels car in each of his pockets.
My father had Dodge vehicles because the Dodge dealer in Shawano was a friend of his. Dad had Dodge trucks for his business. One of Dad's theories was that people like to deal with successful people. So every three years he traded in his car and got a new one.
I can say that I am personally responsible for damaging one of these vehicles twice. Once I had a car full of girls that was being chased by a car full of boys and I went around a corner too closely. We pulled the fender out and Dad was somewhat understanding. The second time that I damaged this same car, I had to pay for it. In that case, I had used the extra space that a fire hydrant takes up to do my parallel parking. The hydrant in from of Koepsels store was really leaning out into the street (the whole sidewalk was sitting at a 30 degree angle) and as I backed in to the spot behind it, I heard a screech as it sliding down the side of the car. It looked like it had been keyed on the passenger's side.
Do we give more attention to our cars than we do to people? When I first married Vern, his sister-in-law told me that he had washed the paint off his first car. I believe that because Vern likes to have everything he owns look just so.
What do our cars say about us? Some people have cars that are always clean inside and out. Other cars look like they belong to a person who is living out of them.
I have never owned a new car but I remember the smell that my Dad's cars had. When I was working for him, he wanted me to have a new company car. Somehow that didn't work for me. As a divorced woman, I needed to have my own things. Having my own car did that for me. Plus I had a teenager and I didn't want to be responsible for a company car with her driving.
One day when I first came back to Wisconsin from California, I left the office for lunch and drove out to a stop sign. It was winter and icy but I was being very careful. While waiting for the light to turn green, I watched a car that was spinning out of control coming over the hill in my direction. My first reaction was to slam my car into reverse and get out of the trajectory. I looked behind and there was someone sitting right behind me so I couldn't shift gears. I crossed my hands over the steering wheel, put my face into them and waited. The car hit, knocking all the windows out of the other car. There was an old man in it and without windows; he would be cold waiting for the police, which another person had called. My right front fender was damaged but I was warm and cozy. I told him to get into my car while we waited. He was so upset and worried. He was sure that he would lose his license to drive. (Remember this is a sign of independence. We all want this for as long as we can hold on to it) I'm not sure if he did or did not lose his license but when I went back to work, my co-workers wanted to know what had happened to my car. I told them that I do anything these days to meet men and I met a really nice one from Gillette.
When I got custody of my Mother because Dad died and Mother had a mild case of Alzheimer's, (they called it Sundowning because she became very upset at dusk.) Mother went with me all the time. It was like having another child to watch. For a while she had complained that she never got to drive anymore. So one day when we were at Walgreens, about 4 blocks from our house, I asked her if she would mind driving home because I had a terrible headache. It was early afternoon and the traffic was nothing. She got into the driver's seat and drove us home. She drove straddling the center line at about 5 to 7 miles per hour. I didn't say anything but just allowed her to do this. After that experience, she never asked to drive again. When I told Vern about this, he couldn't believe what I had done this. He brings it up from time to time even now. Mother had been driving since she was a teenager on her parents farm so not driving was a very important loss.
Cars don't seem that important to me as they seem to be for others. I feel that I am driving for everyone around me when I go out. I even mention to others that in every vehicle you see on the road, there is a person on some drug sitting in the driver's seat. Sure it might be just an aspirin but everyone is on something. There are very few people who are not taking some drug at this time.
So a really good day for me is to do all my errands on my bike and not take my car out of the garage. When I have to drive for a long ways, I find myself getting worn out just driving. I have even taken people to appointments and after driving them home, I have to give myself a pep talk to get home myself. Sometimes my car sits in the garage for almost a week without being driven. This is one of the nice things about living in a very small town.
When my son was trying to talk me into getting a computer, he mentioned that he understood my feelings about artificial intelligence. He felt that it was similar to my feelings about artificial bodies (Cars), artificial flowers, even prints of paintings. Boy,what does that say about me if I can only have the real thing?
Saturday, August 4, 2007
The Awakening
Due to the nature of my Dad's business, we went on vacation in the wintertime. In Spring and Summer, Wisconsin is getting ready for and bombarded with tourists, one of our main sources of income. So every winter our family would go on vacation.
One year we took off and headed to Texas. There was Grandpa Charlie, Grandma Nellie, Mom and Dad along with the three of us, girls. Dad had purchased a one bedroom trailer that was about 20 feet long to haul behind our car. This trailer had a living room/dining room, small kitchen and a separate bedroom on the end with a double bed in it.
Grandpa and Grandma were given the bedroom. Mom and Dad had the living room with its davenport that made into a bed. The three of us had sleeping bags that went on the floor in the rest of the living room when the table had been collapsed and moved into the kitchen. It all worked out.
When we got to Texas; Donna Texas to be exact, we found a trailer court and parked under the trees. This trailer court was in a grove of grapefruit trees so we were surrounded by them. There was a large bathroom/shower building nearby made of cement blocks. The sun was shining and life was great.
Mom and Dad had decided that they wanted to go to Mexico City so after a couple of days, they took off. By this time Grandpa and Grandma had gotten acquainted with some of the other people in the park and could get around without having a car of their own. Someone would take Grandpa to the store if we needed something.
As for us, girls…well, we were pretty much on our own. There were a lot of kids in the park that we got to know right away.
The manager of the park told us that we could eat all the grapefruit that we could pick. His only rule was that nothing was to be left on the ground. Grandpa gave me a pocket knife and showed me how to use it so we could cut the fruit up. Grandma gave each of us a spoon of our own to carry in our pocket. We would climb the trees and sit in them eating half a grapefruit while someone else was eating the other half.
We did have one other rule, after lunch we had to spend an hour or sometimes even a little more on our studies. Before we left home, Mom had gone to each of our teachers and told them what we were going to be doing. (Do you think any school would be this lenient today?) The teacher would use the spiral notebook that Mom brought and within a few days would send it home with us, showing Mom what was going to be covered in the time we would be gone. So we had school work. Grandma was very strict about that in spite of the fact that she was really a softy, but then this Grandma was a reader. She read to us and with us, she just loved to read.
A quick note here, when we got home we had to wait for our classes to catch up with what we had done in the couple of hours a day that we spent on our school work. What does that really say about public education? I admire people who home school their children.
While we were in Texas, Grandma got shingles. She thought it was from the soap that she was using. Sure wish that I knew then what I know now about Shingles and how easily they are to cure. I said cure and how quickly one can get rid of the itching that they bring on. Looking back, I figure that we probably caused it because it is a chicken pox residue that recedes into the nervous system and my guess is that having the complete responsibility of the three of us was a lot for her to deal with.
What was so special about this trip was an awakening in my brain that I wasn't just one of the kids. I already mentioned that there were other "kids" in this park. One boy who was 16 and had his driver's license asked if I would like to go to the drive-in theater a few miles away. He said that we could take his brother and sister along with my sisters and all go. I asked Grandpa and Grandma and they decided that it would be fine. So we went. He asked me to sit in the front seat with him. It was the first time that I realized that I might be of interest to someone. This was a very new feeling for me.
Regressing a bit, I get to tell you about rumors that I have heard. When my Grandpa was interested in my Grandma, He lived on a farm near her in the area east of Clintonville. Grandma's stepfather always allowed her and her sisters to take their horses and wagon to town so Grandpa and his brothers would hitch rides.
Maybe that is why they knew it would be OK for us to all pile into a car to go to the movies? Isn't it interesting how cyclical life is?
We had a great time in Donna, Texas. Sharing Grapefruit, movies and having fun. I have to mention that I never did get kissed and that was a good thing because as I said, this feeling was really new to me. To think that here was a boy that didn't want to pull my hair, push me down or throw something at me. He just wanted to share my grapefruit and climb trees with me. Life was good.
One year we took off and headed to Texas. There was Grandpa Charlie, Grandma Nellie, Mom and Dad along with the three of us, girls. Dad had purchased a one bedroom trailer that was about 20 feet long to haul behind our car. This trailer had a living room/dining room, small kitchen and a separate bedroom on the end with a double bed in it.
Grandpa and Grandma were given the bedroom. Mom and Dad had the living room with its davenport that made into a bed. The three of us had sleeping bags that went on the floor in the rest of the living room when the table had been collapsed and moved into the kitchen. It all worked out.
When we got to Texas; Donna Texas to be exact, we found a trailer court and parked under the trees. This trailer court was in a grove of grapefruit trees so we were surrounded by them. There was a large bathroom/shower building nearby made of cement blocks. The sun was shining and life was great.
Mom and Dad had decided that they wanted to go to Mexico City so after a couple of days, they took off. By this time Grandpa and Grandma had gotten acquainted with some of the other people in the park and could get around without having a car of their own. Someone would take Grandpa to the store if we needed something.
As for us, girls…well, we were pretty much on our own. There were a lot of kids in the park that we got to know right away.
The manager of the park told us that we could eat all the grapefruit that we could pick. His only rule was that nothing was to be left on the ground. Grandpa gave me a pocket knife and showed me how to use it so we could cut the fruit up. Grandma gave each of us a spoon of our own to carry in our pocket. We would climb the trees and sit in them eating half a grapefruit while someone else was eating the other half.
We did have one other rule, after lunch we had to spend an hour or sometimes even a little more on our studies. Before we left home, Mom had gone to each of our teachers and told them what we were going to be doing. (Do you think any school would be this lenient today?) The teacher would use the spiral notebook that Mom brought and within a few days would send it home with us, showing Mom what was going to be covered in the time we would be gone. So we had school work. Grandma was very strict about that in spite of the fact that she was really a softy, but then this Grandma was a reader. She read to us and with us, she just loved to read.
A quick note here, when we got home we had to wait for our classes to catch up with what we had done in the couple of hours a day that we spent on our school work. What does that really say about public education? I admire people who home school their children.
While we were in Texas, Grandma got shingles. She thought it was from the soap that she was using. Sure wish that I knew then what I know now about Shingles and how easily they are to cure. I said cure and how quickly one can get rid of the itching that they bring on. Looking back, I figure that we probably caused it because it is a chicken pox residue that recedes into the nervous system and my guess is that having the complete responsibility of the three of us was a lot for her to deal with.
What was so special about this trip was an awakening in my brain that I wasn't just one of the kids. I already mentioned that there were other "kids" in this park. One boy who was 16 and had his driver's license asked if I would like to go to the drive-in theater a few miles away. He said that we could take his brother and sister along with my sisters and all go. I asked Grandpa and Grandma and they decided that it would be fine. So we went. He asked me to sit in the front seat with him. It was the first time that I realized that I might be of interest to someone. This was a very new feeling for me.
Regressing a bit, I get to tell you about rumors that I have heard. When my Grandpa was interested in my Grandma, He lived on a farm near her in the area east of Clintonville. Grandma's stepfather always allowed her and her sisters to take their horses and wagon to town so Grandpa and his brothers would hitch rides.
Maybe that is why they knew it would be OK for us to all pile into a car to go to the movies? Isn't it interesting how cyclical life is?
We had a great time in Donna, Texas. Sharing Grapefruit, movies and having fun. I have to mention that I never did get kissed and that was a good thing because as I said, this feeling was really new to me. To think that here was a boy that didn't want to pull my hair, push me down or throw something at me. He just wanted to share my grapefruit and climb trees with me. Life was good.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
The Jungle
Have you ever sat in a chair and looked through a ray of sunshine coming in one of the nearby windows? One can see all the dust particles that are in the air like they are gypsies in a musical.
Today I did something similar. I sat by a window and just watched life evolve in the back yard. The interesting part was that the sun was shining directly on the area closest to the house but the yard and house next door was in shadows. So what I was looking at stood out like the dust particles in the sunshine ray.
At first I watched a couple of large butterflies that were so happy to have found the spearmint patch in full blossom. They flitted from one purple top to another. Soon they were joined by a white moth.
As I sat and watched, there were hundreds of small dots of sunlit bugs of all kinds. Some buzzed around while other were just traveling through.
We have three raised beds of plants occupying the back yard that are four by eight feet long. The first one is half full of Melissa (Lemon Balm)but I also planted two tomato plants in there this year. I put four stakes near them to hold them up as they grow. I wrapped these stakes with cording. So far we have only eaten one tomato of the twelve that they have. The rest are all different sizes and in different stages of color.
The reason for this description is that a wren is sitting on the top of one of the stakes looking in at my window, telling me, "Don't forget to mention me out here in the sunshine." Sometimes he faces my window and natters so loudly that our cats take issue with it.
It is amazing the number of bugs that are out there enjoying whatever is in season and today it is the Spearmint. The Peppermint still has away to go before it will be in full blossom but soon it will be loaded with flowers too.
From my view point at the window, my back yard is as busy as it is in downtown Milwaukee on a week day. When the wind blows, leaves flutter down, birds fly through, but mostly it is the insect life that is so great.
The wren took off and is back on his post on the tomato stake but for once he is quiet. This is very unusual for him.
We have an oak tree in the front yard so from time to time we see squirrels in this area of the back yard. For many years, we haven't seen chipmunks but we do have them back with their striped coats this year. Years ago we had a lot of chipmunks and they liked to re-pot some of my flower pots on the patio. I kind'a missed them but I am happy to see them back again.
I sure hope this wren knows what it is doing while it preens itself on the post as a large dark bird just flew overhead.
We do have ravens in the area. One time I watched three ravens take on a mother rabbit. They were as big as she was and they put her in the center of their triangle. One would advance and she would go to fend off that advance when one of the others would move into steal one of her babies. She didn't have a chance. She lost all of her babies that year.
What is it that they say, "life is a jungle." We think that means in the office/work place or maybe in the wilderness or woods but the jungle is in our
backyards.
If we are really truthful, we will realize that the jungle is right here, inside of us too. We are always trying to find ways to survive, to do the right thing, to stay on top of life.
Enjoy what is in your life today.
Today I did something similar. I sat by a window and just watched life evolve in the back yard. The interesting part was that the sun was shining directly on the area closest to the house but the yard and house next door was in shadows. So what I was looking at stood out like the dust particles in the sunshine ray.
At first I watched a couple of large butterflies that were so happy to have found the spearmint patch in full blossom. They flitted from one purple top to another. Soon they were joined by a white moth.
As I sat and watched, there were hundreds of small dots of sunlit bugs of all kinds. Some buzzed around while other were just traveling through.
We have three raised beds of plants occupying the back yard that are four by eight feet long. The first one is half full of Melissa (Lemon Balm)but I also planted two tomato plants in there this year. I put four stakes near them to hold them up as they grow. I wrapped these stakes with cording. So far we have only eaten one tomato of the twelve that they have. The rest are all different sizes and in different stages of color.
The reason for this description is that a wren is sitting on the top of one of the stakes looking in at my window, telling me, "Don't forget to mention me out here in the sunshine." Sometimes he faces my window and natters so loudly that our cats take issue with it.
It is amazing the number of bugs that are out there enjoying whatever is in season and today it is the Spearmint. The Peppermint still has away to go before it will be in full blossom but soon it will be loaded with flowers too.
From my view point at the window, my back yard is as busy as it is in downtown Milwaukee on a week day. When the wind blows, leaves flutter down, birds fly through, but mostly it is the insect life that is so great.
The wren took off and is back on his post on the tomato stake but for once he is quiet. This is very unusual for him.
We have an oak tree in the front yard so from time to time we see squirrels in this area of the back yard. For many years, we haven't seen chipmunks but we do have them back with their striped coats this year. Years ago we had a lot of chipmunks and they liked to re-pot some of my flower pots on the patio. I kind'a missed them but I am happy to see them back again.
I sure hope this wren knows what it is doing while it preens itself on the post as a large dark bird just flew overhead.
We do have ravens in the area. One time I watched three ravens take on a mother rabbit. They were as big as she was and they put her in the center of their triangle. One would advance and she would go to fend off that advance when one of the others would move into steal one of her babies. She didn't have a chance. She lost all of her babies that year.
What is it that they say, "life is a jungle." We think that means in the office/work place or maybe in the wilderness or woods but the jungle is in our
backyards.
If we are really truthful, we will realize that the jungle is right here, inside of us too. We are always trying to find ways to survive, to do the right thing, to stay on top of life.
Enjoy what is in your life today.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
My Many Personalities
Anyone reading this has met one of my many personalities. Maggie is the writer and she loves to write. When she was younger she used to write long handwritten letters. She then started writing letters on her typewriter.
Now she is writing her memories and some of her thoughts. I don't know if anyone else enjoys her stories but it keeps her busy and happy about her life in present time so I guess that is a very good thing. We all need to find what makes us happy and do it.
Today I will introduce you to another personality. Gertie and I have been very good friends for a long time. I have known her a lot longer than Maggie.
I first knew about Gertie when my daughter's boyfriend wanted to demonstrate a vacuum cleaner. I told him that I wasn't buying one but he said that he gets credit for every demo that he did, so I agreed.
He came over with this wonderful unit and vacuumed part of a room. Then he showed me just how much dirt that his machine took out of our rug. My comment was, "I give Gertie good equipment and she leaves that much dirt in my rug?" When he looked at me strangely, I said, "Gertie is the lady who cleans my house every week." And I said this with a very somber face. Later my daughter and her boyfriend left to go somewhere but when she got home, she was laughing and told me that her boyfriend wanted to know if I really had a cleaning lady come in once a week. She cleared it all up when she told him that I don't but that once a week Mom turns into the cleaning lady so she can be the lady of the house the rest of the time.
After that Gertie was a fixture in our house. I like her work because she is as fussy as I am but has to be reminded to clean the refrigerator from time to time.
Now let's talk about the personality that we refer to as Phyllis. She isn't what people think she is at all. She has so many insecurities and has had to push herself through all of them. Not to say that she is alone in this as everyone lives with some insecurity. When listening to what other people are having to adjust their lives to, she sometimes makes a wish to trade places. She isn't allowed to do that because this is the contract that she signed up for, FAMILY.
For the last 20 years it has been one problem after another. These are not little problems that can handle themselves.
In spite of all of these things, she pushed ahead each time having to rebuilding her personal life to the point where she could see the good in the world again. With the help of her friends and family, this part of her personality was able create a front that looked really good from the outside. No one could see the bleeding that was going on inside.
She did great through most of the things that were thrown at her. Well, She didn't do well when her oldest child went through some major problems in the '80s but she was able to be there and do what needed to be done. Then again when her youngest child went through major problems in '01, she had a few missing months in her life where she needed to pull the pieces back together.
She handled the care and death of her parents rather well from the viewpoint of most people. It was when her baby sister died that depression set in big-time.
From the outside, she looked normal but inside the walls, that were fragile to begin with, fell into ruin for a very long time. There are still places where they haven't been shored up enough to get through bad days.
If she were a nail, it would be all the way into the two by four by now. How much pounding can one person be expected to handle?
Sometime during the last depression, she lost contact with her daughter. Then her remaining sister had a stroke and she finally decided that she had to retreat into her own world. Hense the blog stories. www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com
Recently a couple of her friends have tried to talk her into publishing these stories. The idea sounds appealing but we will have to see about that. There are already storm clouds on the horizon so the publishing might have to wait until the next major situation is handled.
In any case, she is a survivor. Do you think that when metal is being heated and pounded into a sword, it doesn't feel anything or does it know that it is being made stronger to fight the battles ahead?
Now she is writing her memories and some of her thoughts. I don't know if anyone else enjoys her stories but it keeps her busy and happy about her life in present time so I guess that is a very good thing. We all need to find what makes us happy and do it.
Today I will introduce you to another personality. Gertie and I have been very good friends for a long time. I have known her a lot longer than Maggie.
I first knew about Gertie when my daughter's boyfriend wanted to demonstrate a vacuum cleaner. I told him that I wasn't buying one but he said that he gets credit for every demo that he did, so I agreed.
He came over with this wonderful unit and vacuumed part of a room. Then he showed me just how much dirt that his machine took out of our rug. My comment was, "I give Gertie good equipment and she leaves that much dirt in my rug?" When he looked at me strangely, I said, "Gertie is the lady who cleans my house every week." And I said this with a very somber face. Later my daughter and her boyfriend left to go somewhere but when she got home, she was laughing and told me that her boyfriend wanted to know if I really had a cleaning lady come in once a week. She cleared it all up when she told him that I don't but that once a week Mom turns into the cleaning lady so she can be the lady of the house the rest of the time.
After that Gertie was a fixture in our house. I like her work because she is as fussy as I am but has to be reminded to clean the refrigerator from time to time.
Now let's talk about the personality that we refer to as Phyllis. She isn't what people think she is at all. She has so many insecurities and has had to push herself through all of them. Not to say that she is alone in this as everyone lives with some insecurity. When listening to what other people are having to adjust their lives to, she sometimes makes a wish to trade places. She isn't allowed to do that because this is the contract that she signed up for, FAMILY.
For the last 20 years it has been one problem after another. These are not little problems that can handle themselves.
In spite of all of these things, she pushed ahead each time having to rebuilding her personal life to the point where she could see the good in the world again. With the help of her friends and family, this part of her personality was able create a front that looked really good from the outside. No one could see the bleeding that was going on inside.
She did great through most of the things that were thrown at her. Well, She didn't do well when her oldest child went through some major problems in the '80s but she was able to be there and do what needed to be done. Then again when her youngest child went through major problems in '01, she had a few missing months in her life where she needed to pull the pieces back together.
She handled the care and death of her parents rather well from the viewpoint of most people. It was when her baby sister died that depression set in big-time.
From the outside, she looked normal but inside the walls, that were fragile to begin with, fell into ruin for a very long time. There are still places where they haven't been shored up enough to get through bad days.
If she were a nail, it would be all the way into the two by four by now. How much pounding can one person be expected to handle?
Sometime during the last depression, she lost contact with her daughter. Then her remaining sister had a stroke and she finally decided that she had to retreat into her own world. Hense the blog stories. www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com
Recently a couple of her friends have tried to talk her into publishing these stories. The idea sounds appealing but we will have to see about that. There are already storm clouds on the horizon so the publishing might have to wait until the next major situation is handled.
In any case, she is a survivor. Do you think that when metal is being heated and pounded into a sword, it doesn't feel anything or does it know that it is being made stronger to fight the battles ahead?
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Grandchild
Do parents realize what a blessing it is for everyone when they share their children with their parents? The bond that is created between a grandchild and a grandparent is a wonderful thing.
I don't have grandchildren of my own but I have a step-grandchild that has always been a blessing in my life.
When Susie was four years old, her mother allowed her to spend a week with us in the summer. After that it got to be an annual thing. We looked forward to that week. We got to watch her grow up and listen to things that she was interested in and watch how she did things. I remember watching her pack her suitcase when she was about five and she packed like a little old lady. Everything was folded and put in just so. It was adorable.
Every year we had her stand by the closet door in the kitchen and we would mark how tall she had gotten in the last year.
It is the little things that are so important. She and I would exchange secrets and years later we would talk about them. She would parrot my words years later, "I couldn't go on certain rides because I didn't have my play shoes on."
Grandpa was always working so she and I would go to the beach where she could swim in Lake Michigan. She would collect rocks from the beach and bring them home. I would set up a painting area and whenever she wanted, she would go to that area and paint on her rocks.
One year she and I made some watercolor pictures. I had one framed that she made and sent it to her Mother for her Mother's birthday.
We made furniture for her doll house. She and I even got to ride Amtrak from where she lived to our town.
We would go shopping for school clothes. I don't think she really liked to trying on sweaters in July but she did it. One very hot summer, she really was unhappy about this event. She always went home with a bunch of new clothes of her choosing.
One of the things that was nice about having her at our house was that Susie didn't need to be entertained. We didn't have to be going all the time to fly a kite or ride a bike. (By the way, she didn't enjoy flying kites.) If I wanted to read a book, she would skate in the driveway or maybe paint or some other thing and I didn't have to suggest things to do. I see so many children that have to be entertained all the time. Will they grow up unable to be alone?
As she got older, she had more activities in the summer at home, like her job and ball games so we didn't get to see her as much but we did stay in touch. When she had an event; Basketball game, school play or when she was modeling, we would drive to it. She was good at modeling because in high school she was five foot ten inches tall. (Both of her parents are tall)
The last four years she has been in College and we e-mail each other. At first it was once a week and I knew that would settle down as she felt more comfortable away from home. It did. Then she got so busy, a job and tutoring after school that we only heard from her now and then.
Grandpa and I started something with her when she was very little. We called it the "Peanut Can." When we had change in our pockets or purses, we would put it in a peanut can and that was what she could spend when she was at our house for the week. Later when we didn't see her as often, we would take the "Peanut Can" and give it to her when we went up to her school. We told her it was the tip for being her.
Grandpa would ask her what she wanted for Christmas and she would usually get it. (Grandpa is a softy when it comes to Susan.) Maybe it would be a certain sports jacket or money to add to what she had for a trip etc. Susie was always polite enough to thank us for whatever she got.
She has moved on to her first "real" job in Colorado, so we probably won't see her that much but there is still the e-mail. She has turned out to be a very loving/responsible adult.
I feel sorry for Grandparent who have never had this opportunity to bond with one or more of their grandchildren. It is a wonderful feeling and wonderful experience for everyone.
I don't have grandchildren of my own but I have a step-grandchild that has always been a blessing in my life.
When Susie was four years old, her mother allowed her to spend a week with us in the summer. After that it got to be an annual thing. We looked forward to that week. We got to watch her grow up and listen to things that she was interested in and watch how she did things. I remember watching her pack her suitcase when she was about five and she packed like a little old lady. Everything was folded and put in just so. It was adorable.
Every year we had her stand by the closet door in the kitchen and we would mark how tall she had gotten in the last year.
It is the little things that are so important. She and I would exchange secrets and years later we would talk about them. She would parrot my words years later, "I couldn't go on certain rides because I didn't have my play shoes on."
Grandpa was always working so she and I would go to the beach where she could swim in Lake Michigan. She would collect rocks from the beach and bring them home. I would set up a painting area and whenever she wanted, she would go to that area and paint on her rocks.
One year she and I made some watercolor pictures. I had one framed that she made and sent it to her Mother for her Mother's birthday.
We made furniture for her doll house. She and I even got to ride Amtrak from where she lived to our town.
We would go shopping for school clothes. I don't think she really liked to trying on sweaters in July but she did it. One very hot summer, she really was unhappy about this event. She always went home with a bunch of new clothes of her choosing.
One of the things that was nice about having her at our house was that Susie didn't need to be entertained. We didn't have to be going all the time to fly a kite or ride a bike. (By the way, she didn't enjoy flying kites.) If I wanted to read a book, she would skate in the driveway or maybe paint or some other thing and I didn't have to suggest things to do. I see so many children that have to be entertained all the time. Will they grow up unable to be alone?
As she got older, she had more activities in the summer at home, like her job and ball games so we didn't get to see her as much but we did stay in touch. When she had an event; Basketball game, school play or when she was modeling, we would drive to it. She was good at modeling because in high school she was five foot ten inches tall. (Both of her parents are tall)
The last four years she has been in College and we e-mail each other. At first it was once a week and I knew that would settle down as she felt more comfortable away from home. It did. Then she got so busy, a job and tutoring after school that we only heard from her now and then.
Grandpa and I started something with her when she was very little. We called it the "Peanut Can." When we had change in our pockets or purses, we would put it in a peanut can and that was what she could spend when she was at our house for the week. Later when we didn't see her as often, we would take the "Peanut Can" and give it to her when we went up to her school. We told her it was the tip for being her.
Grandpa would ask her what she wanted for Christmas and she would usually get it. (Grandpa is a softy when it comes to Susan.) Maybe it would be a certain sports jacket or money to add to what she had for a trip etc. Susie was always polite enough to thank us for whatever she got.
She has moved on to her first "real" job in Colorado, so we probably won't see her that much but there is still the e-mail. She has turned out to be a very loving/responsible adult.
I feel sorry for Grandparent who have never had this opportunity to bond with one or more of their grandchildren. It is a wonderful feeling and wonderful experience for everyone.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Mowing
Today is the Fourth of July, the day that we celebrate our Independence. So what will you be doing? Will you be golfing? Will you be at a parade? Will you have friends and family over for a cook out?
Vern has chosen to mow the lawn. We all do what is fun for us and for him, mowing is a joy. Where does that come from? As long as I have been with him, mowing is his fun perhaps even his meditation time/space.
Yes, he goes golfing and comes home tired and hurting but with mowing, he comes in feeling great. I guess when the yard looks just the way he wants it to, he is proud.
When he comes home from golfing, there isn't any pride. Sure he had friends that he got to talk with but somehow it doesn't hit the mark like mowing does.
What is it about mowing that is so great? Maybe it is the feeling that he gets riding on his lawnmower? Maybe it is a feeling that he is "king" of his land? Maybe it is the feeling he gets because he is not just sitting around but making something look great? Maybe it is the fact that he has the freedom to do anything so he decides to do this? Maybe in his mind he has allocated all the rest of the week to other things and he is trying to fit this in?
I wonder what the people around here think as they are home from work today for a holiday and can sleep in or just do the nothing that they have been looking forward too? Or are even trying to sit and talk with their friends?
Last night we sat out on the front porch and watched it rain. A rain that we really needed. He mentioned that we really live in a very quiet neighborhood. It was late in the day and I mentioned that it is nice this time of the day. Usually there is someone pounding on a new roof or cutting their lawn or replacing
something. Looking around, he kind'a laughed at me and said, "Well, there aren't any new roofs going on around here." I mentioned that sound really carries in this little village. We can hear the music from the park six blocks away. So during the daytime we can hear a roof going on from the top of the hill. Later as we sat there, we could hear a lot of cars and I asked him if he thought that was the traffic on Mequon Road (12 blocks away).
If you went out there right now while he is mowing and asked him how he felt about what he is doing, first he wouldn't want to talk about his feelings but then you would see that he is comfortable somewhere in his world.
When this marriage was young, I thought I would help him by having the boys mow near the end of the week so Vern would have his weekends free. It wasn't long and the boys came to me with a situation. It seems that even if they mow on Thursday after school, Vern mowed again on Saturday. So I told the boys that from now on we would allow him to do the mowing.
He loves to ride on his mower. At times it has become a bit of a problem because he is in his own world and trees have a way of hanging over his work. It was then that the gardens under the trees became enlarged to accommodate this situation.
When I was on the board at Wellspring, an organic farm, Bed and Breakfast and training center in Newberg, there was a lot of mowing that needed to be done. I suggested that maybe Vern would like to volunteer his talent but after doing it for one summer on a weekly basis, he wasn't having fun. I guess it is just his kingdom that he enjoys cutting.
While taking the UW County Extension's gardening classes, I learned that grass should be allowed to grow 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 inches tall. This allows the roots to stay shaded and weeds do not germinate as well in taller grass. Also "never remove more than 1/3 of the leaf tissue at any one mowing." (Information from Bulletin #A3435) So of course you know what I did? I would go out and set his blade higher. The next time he would cut, he would lower it and I would reset it between cuttings. Vern has this idea that if it can wave in the wind, it needs to be cut off. I have finally given up. He can mow three times a week if it makes him happy.
He has agreed with me about not putting chemicals on our lawn. From time to time he isn't happy about this as we do have a lot of weeds because of the short grass. I started a one-year contract with him in the early 90s. Then we would renew it every year. Now I don't do that either. When he put fertilizer on the lawn this year, I would guess that it was a weed and feed just by the results that he was getting.
I am getting too old to try to win any of these. Who cares anyway? If we get Dioxin from the weed and feed and loose a liver or anything…who cares? It will be five years before I can use the dandelions in my yard for wine now. Maybe some of these things just aren't as important as they used to be in my life. I don't like it but…. There are a lot of things that I don't care for. (How about cell phone micro-wave transmissions?)
All of my neighbors have three or more applications of weed and feed put on their yard annually. How do I know this? I am registered with the State of Wisconsin regarding chemical lawn applications. There is a paper that I file every February listing all the properties around me that I wish to be notified if they are going to have chemicals put on them. So I get a phone call the day before the application from the lawn care companies.
When plant roots can get fed within the top two inches of the ground, they sure don't need to dig into the planet very far. I have always wondered about this feeding. When someone walks through your whole property within a matter of minutes with liquid food, does that stuff even get as far as the ground or just feed the leafy matter?
I guess will just continue to watch Vern having the pleasure that he has with his property and I will relax. Life is too short to be the only one to care about the planet.
Vern has chosen to mow the lawn. We all do what is fun for us and for him, mowing is a joy. Where does that come from? As long as I have been with him, mowing is his fun perhaps even his meditation time/space.
Yes, he goes golfing and comes home tired and hurting but with mowing, he comes in feeling great. I guess when the yard looks just the way he wants it to, he is proud.
When he comes home from golfing, there isn't any pride. Sure he had friends that he got to talk with but somehow it doesn't hit the mark like mowing does.
What is it about mowing that is so great? Maybe it is the feeling that he gets riding on his lawnmower? Maybe it is a feeling that he is "king" of his land? Maybe it is the feeling he gets because he is not just sitting around but making something look great? Maybe it is the fact that he has the freedom to do anything so he decides to do this? Maybe in his mind he has allocated all the rest of the week to other things and he is trying to fit this in?
I wonder what the people around here think as they are home from work today for a holiday and can sleep in or just do the nothing that they have been looking forward too? Or are even trying to sit and talk with their friends?
Last night we sat out on the front porch and watched it rain. A rain that we really needed. He mentioned that we really live in a very quiet neighborhood. It was late in the day and I mentioned that it is nice this time of the day. Usually there is someone pounding on a new roof or cutting their lawn or replacing
something. Looking around, he kind'a laughed at me and said, "Well, there aren't any new roofs going on around here." I mentioned that sound really carries in this little village. We can hear the music from the park six blocks away. So during the daytime we can hear a roof going on from the top of the hill. Later as we sat there, we could hear a lot of cars and I asked him if he thought that was the traffic on Mequon Road (12 blocks away).
If you went out there right now while he is mowing and asked him how he felt about what he is doing, first he wouldn't want to talk about his feelings but then you would see that he is comfortable somewhere in his world.
When this marriage was young, I thought I would help him by having the boys mow near the end of the week so Vern would have his weekends free. It wasn't long and the boys came to me with a situation. It seems that even if they mow on Thursday after school, Vern mowed again on Saturday. So I told the boys that from now on we would allow him to do the mowing.
He loves to ride on his mower. At times it has become a bit of a problem because he is in his own world and trees have a way of hanging over his work. It was then that the gardens under the trees became enlarged to accommodate this situation.
When I was on the board at Wellspring, an organic farm, Bed and Breakfast and training center in Newberg, there was a lot of mowing that needed to be done. I suggested that maybe Vern would like to volunteer his talent but after doing it for one summer on a weekly basis, he wasn't having fun. I guess it is just his kingdom that he enjoys cutting.
While taking the UW County Extension's gardening classes, I learned that grass should be allowed to grow 2 1/2 to 3 1/2 inches tall. This allows the roots to stay shaded and weeds do not germinate as well in taller grass. Also "never remove more than 1/3 of the leaf tissue at any one mowing." (Information from Bulletin #A3435) So of course you know what I did? I would go out and set his blade higher. The next time he would cut, he would lower it and I would reset it between cuttings. Vern has this idea that if it can wave in the wind, it needs to be cut off. I have finally given up. He can mow three times a week if it makes him happy.
He has agreed with me about not putting chemicals on our lawn. From time to time he isn't happy about this as we do have a lot of weeds because of the short grass. I started a one-year contract with him in the early 90s. Then we would renew it every year. Now I don't do that either. When he put fertilizer on the lawn this year, I would guess that it was a weed and feed just by the results that he was getting.
I am getting too old to try to win any of these. Who cares anyway? If we get Dioxin from the weed and feed and loose a liver or anything…who cares? It will be five years before I can use the dandelions in my yard for wine now. Maybe some of these things just aren't as important as they used to be in my life. I don't like it but…. There are a lot of things that I don't care for. (How about cell phone micro-wave transmissions?)
All of my neighbors have three or more applications of weed and feed put on their yard annually. How do I know this? I am registered with the State of Wisconsin regarding chemical lawn applications. There is a paper that I file every February listing all the properties around me that I wish to be notified if they are going to have chemicals put on them. So I get a phone call the day before the application from the lawn care companies.
When plant roots can get fed within the top two inches of the ground, they sure don't need to dig into the planet very far. I have always wondered about this feeding. When someone walks through your whole property within a matter of minutes with liquid food, does that stuff even get as far as the ground or just feed the leafy matter?
I guess will just continue to watch Vern having the pleasure that he has with his property and I will relax. Life is too short to be the only one to care about the planet.
Saturday, July 7, 2007
My Belief System
We all have them, choices that is. We get to choose what we want for breakfast or how late we want to stay up at night. We can choose what books we wish to read and in this country, we even get to choose what we wish to believe in. Isn't that a wonderful thought? We don't have to agree with anyone as long as we aren't violating any public rules.
If my memory serves me, the Pilgrims came here so that they could worship the way that they wanted. This is what America was founded on. The fact that all religions are the same in the eyes of my GOD, is my belief and to have someone point out to me that only this religion or that religion is the right one, seems to violate my senses.
I can't imagine a GOD who wouldn't be proud of the Hindu who honors his Gods, loves his neighbors and takes very good care of his extended family.
My God is so large that he doesn't fit into any of the standard forms that are out there at this time. He encompasses everything. He doesn't have arms and legs but I was still created in his image. I might just be a fractal of God (Quantum). This thought was brought to me by Paul Eno in his book TURNING HOME. Isn't this exciting stuff?
When I was very little, I knew that I lived in here. I got to look out of the windows (eyes) and had to make sure the plumbing worked and the roof was neat. Don't forget to clean up the siding as much as possible. Even then I knew that I wasn't the house that I lived in.
This story is being written because of an e-mail that I got today. I sent this person a wonderful picture show of how great this beautiful world is and how lucky we are to live here. In return she wanted to tell me that it is only great if I believe the way they do. That is such a small box to put my great GOD into!
Yesterday I listened to Paul Eno on a CD. He studied to become a priest and then never took his vows. He explained that the English version of our Bible has been altered from the original Greek but most people swear by what they are reading in the present translation. One of his examples was: Matthew 22:39 "Love your neighbor as yourself." He said that the Greek says, " agapesis ton plaision sou os seauton: Love your neighbor because he is yourself." Which goes back to what the Devas have always told me, "We are all one."
Eno was hesitant to get into all of this but he did say that the Hell that most people talk about is very different than what the Greek spoke of. They talk about GOD being an all consuming fire, which is a lot different than Dante's fire and brim stone - Hell. I just found out there is a test on the internet that one can take to "find out what area of Dante's Infernal, you will be spending your eternity. (Guess you can find anything on the internet. Is that a pick "your box" kind of game?)
We have so much to learn and instead of researching it ourselves we rely on what other people have told us down through the ages. I really liked Paul Eno because he did the research. He studied the original Greek text. He intended to fit into the box but he too, found the current rules too confining. That doesn't mean that he doesn't believe in what is written but just not what you and I have read.
I guess when someone asks me what my religion is, I am not sure. There have been so many Christed ones over the years. (A Nun once told me, "Christ wasn't his last name, it was the station that he attained." She told me that it is the level that we are all trying to attain.)
There is so much to learn, no wonder we keep coming back again and again trying to get it right. Buddhists and Hindus talk about "getting off the wheel" so we don't have to come back again. Why would a great portion of the people on this planet believe in something that is so similar? And their religions are much older than the current major religion in our country.
When I hear about the fact that most people I know believe in a three-headed God I think, "That is what is right for them." Or how about the Hindu God, Vishnu with all her arms. It is OK for them. I do not have to conform to someone else's idea. The person that sent me the e-mail is so sure that I am lost but truly, I feel found. I am comforted in the knowledge that my God is so wonderful that he created me just the way I am.
Those of you who have been reading about my unordinary life in my first blog, (www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com ) will understand why I would never fit into any of the boxes that are presently available. My God is so much bigger than the religions that are around me today.
I feel that we are only a visitors on this planet for a small amount of time. When we leave here there are worlds for us to explore.
So what religion does that make me?
If my memory serves me, the Pilgrims came here so that they could worship the way that they wanted. This is what America was founded on. The fact that all religions are the same in the eyes of my GOD, is my belief and to have someone point out to me that only this religion or that religion is the right one, seems to violate my senses.
I can't imagine a GOD who wouldn't be proud of the Hindu who honors his Gods, loves his neighbors and takes very good care of his extended family.
My God is so large that he doesn't fit into any of the standard forms that are out there at this time. He encompasses everything. He doesn't have arms and legs but I was still created in his image. I might just be a fractal of God (Quantum). This thought was brought to me by Paul Eno in his book TURNING HOME. Isn't this exciting stuff?
When I was very little, I knew that I lived in here. I got to look out of the windows (eyes) and had to make sure the plumbing worked and the roof was neat. Don't forget to clean up the siding as much as possible. Even then I knew that I wasn't the house that I lived in.
This story is being written because of an e-mail that I got today. I sent this person a wonderful picture show of how great this beautiful world is and how lucky we are to live here. In return she wanted to tell me that it is only great if I believe the way they do. That is such a small box to put my great GOD into!
Yesterday I listened to Paul Eno on a CD. He studied to become a priest and then never took his vows. He explained that the English version of our Bible has been altered from the original Greek but most people swear by what they are reading in the present translation. One of his examples was: Matthew 22:39 "Love your neighbor as yourself." He said that the Greek says, " agapesis ton plaision sou os seauton: Love your neighbor because he is yourself." Which goes back to what the Devas have always told me, "We are all one."
Eno was hesitant to get into all of this but he did say that the Hell that most people talk about is very different than what the Greek spoke of. They talk about GOD being an all consuming fire, which is a lot different than Dante's fire and brim stone - Hell. I just found out there is a test on the internet that one can take to "find out what area of Dante's Infernal, you will be spending your eternity. (Guess you can find anything on the internet. Is that a pick "your box" kind of game?)
We have so much to learn and instead of researching it ourselves we rely on what other people have told us down through the ages. I really liked Paul Eno because he did the research. He studied the original Greek text. He intended to fit into the box but he too, found the current rules too confining. That doesn't mean that he doesn't believe in what is written but just not what you and I have read.
I guess when someone asks me what my religion is, I am not sure. There have been so many Christed ones over the years. (A Nun once told me, "Christ wasn't his last name, it was the station that he attained." She told me that it is the level that we are all trying to attain.)
There is so much to learn, no wonder we keep coming back again and again trying to get it right. Buddhists and Hindus talk about "getting off the wheel" so we don't have to come back again. Why would a great portion of the people on this planet believe in something that is so similar? And their religions are much older than the current major religion in our country.
When I hear about the fact that most people I know believe in a three-headed God I think, "That is what is right for them." Or how about the Hindu God, Vishnu with all her arms. It is OK for them. I do not have to conform to someone else's idea. The person that sent me the e-mail is so sure that I am lost but truly, I feel found. I am comforted in the knowledge that my God is so wonderful that he created me just the way I am.
Those of you who have been reading about my unordinary life in my first blog, (www.maggiebrowneakaphyllisheitkamp.blogspot.com ) will understand why I would never fit into any of the boxes that are presently available. My God is so much bigger than the religions that are around me today.
I feel that we are only a visitors on this planet for a small amount of time. When we leave here there are worlds for us to explore.
So what religion does that make me?
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Truth
People are always telling me that they want to hear the truth but when they do, they don't really want it. On the other hand, telling someone what your truth is could be very different from what their truth is. We all look at things from a different perspective.
When I first moved to Wisconsin, Loren invited two single-male teachers out to our house at the lake for an enchilada dinner. (Because we couldn't get enchiladas in Wisconsin at that time, I had to learn how to make them along with refried beans. It was one of our favorite meals.) The two gentlemen were practice teaching at the local high school.
While we were eating, I heard both of them talking about not going into teaching after this year was over. Thinking it was because of the students, I asked them what they were going to do and they both had plans. Why were two really creative teachers not going to continue teaching? They told me that they were not allowed to teach the way that they wanted to. One young man said that his supervising teacher didn't like anything that he did. As an example, he asked the students to stand up by their desks to view something. Then he had them kneel down next to their desk to view the same thing. He said that he was trying to teach the truth about perspective but his supervisor came down on him royally. Here was a loss for the school systems because these two guys would have brought fun and interest and mystery and truth to classrooms of the future.
Truth, isn't something that is really wanted. How about "saying something nice to others?" Now here is one that can really get you into trouble. "That dress makes you look_______." (Fill in the blank.) Are you going to mention that the color is right or that it makes her look fat? Just how are you going to get around the truth?
We all have our secrets. Some of us have more than others. For instance, my husband cannot keep a secret. If I don't want the whole world to know something, I either tell him not to say anything or I make sure that he doesn't knows about it. "The fudge is NOT for the party."
Growing up in my family, we were always supposed to tell the truth. Sometimes that meant taking the punishment for what had happened, but I learned that the truth can get you into real trouble.
When I was in fifth and sixth grade we had a wonderful teacher. Everyone in our class just loved her. She got married and then became pregnant and had to quit in the middle of our sixth year. So our class got a substitute teacher for the rest of the year.
When I think back, I am not sure just why none of the kids liked her, but it was very obvious that they didn't. They wouldn't do anything that she said. The class got out of control a lot and she would cry when this happened. So every day she would ask one student to stand up and tell her why the kids wouldn't mind her. Everyone said that they didn't know. About four weeks into this, it was my turn.
Now up until this time, I had a very good relationship with my classmates. We would go to birthday parties at each other's houses and I even went over to their houses after school. But "My turn" changed all of that.
When I stood up there and she asked me why the kids wouldn't mind her, I said that it was because they didn't like her.
If they could have sent bolts of lighten to killed me at that time, I wouldn't be writing this.
Only one person in that room would play with me at recess. The two of us would talk about all sorts of things…That is until Valentine's Day was coming. Then the class asked the teacher if she would leave the room so that they could have a meeting and they asked my friend and me to leave too. We knew that they were planning to give our teacher a Valentine's Day present. It was a way of proving that what I said was not the truth. (I guess in a way, I united this class even if I became the target.) So my friend and I decided to make something for the teacher ourselves. We both knew how to crochet so we made look-alike doilies. We did a rather nice job at it too but after that project together, my friend didn't want to be left out anymore. (I couldn't really blame her. In high school she went on to became one of the top cheerleaders.)
It was a lonely spring. I remember playing on the playground with some marbles all by myself. When the snow started to melt, I made creeks of water in the cracks of the snow. I would stand by the building sometimes and watch everyone playing. Those three months until summer vacation were very long.
It was the beginning of learning that I was different. Learning that I could survive alone. Learning that people really don't want to know the truth.
As luck would have it, in Seventh grade all the country school seventh graders were bused to town and we had a lot of new people that didn't know that I was the one that had spoken out to our substitute teacher.
I am sure that this was in my school record because I had a lot of teachers in seventh grade that were very nice to me.
One of them asked if I would like to come down to the science room twice a week during study hall and water the plants there. I liked doing that. It gave me a chance to be by myself, without anyone else around. Maybe I was getting used to being with just me? (Perhaps it was that beginning of my love of plants. I did taste the drops that Impatiens create on the ends of their leaves. It is sugar sweet.)
In English class we took a test and I got the highest grade on the Dewey Decimal System so I got to work in the library putting books back in their places. Both of these took me out of the routine that everyone else had.
It is funny how one thing can change things for a very long time. Even getting to know a lot of new kids, I still never felt good enough after that. That feeling lasted for a very long time. If you have read the story about my teen years you know that in one sense, I never got over that set back until I graduated from High School. Even now at the reunions, I really don't know those people. I had very little in common with them then and now. I found out that I do like to be by myself and I do feel good about me.
It isn't just the people I went to school with, it is everyone who professes to want the truth but in reality, they don't.
Take a court of law, how much truth is allowed to be expressed? The jury is asked to make a decision based on only what is expressed and then they don't get the whole truth. It is based on how and what questions are asked? Don't tell us all about it, just answer Yes or No. We don't really want to know what happened.
Truth is very interesting. It is molded and stretched and colored to fit the occasion. I am very careful to give facts today. My students expect me to tell them the truth and I do but I make sure of my facts when I do this. I still have a hard time being social but I work at it. Most of the time I still find myself standing alone even in a crowd being the observer.
I remember thinking that having a mate or partner would change that feeling but most of what I have done, has been alone. I wish to make exception of what I have just said, because my sisters have been there for me more than anyone else in the world. They have accepted all my insecurities and oddities. I guess that is my truth.
When I first moved to Wisconsin, Loren invited two single-male teachers out to our house at the lake for an enchilada dinner. (Because we couldn't get enchiladas in Wisconsin at that time, I had to learn how to make them along with refried beans. It was one of our favorite meals.) The two gentlemen were practice teaching at the local high school.
While we were eating, I heard both of them talking about not going into teaching after this year was over. Thinking it was because of the students, I asked them what they were going to do and they both had plans. Why were two really creative teachers not going to continue teaching? They told me that they were not allowed to teach the way that they wanted to. One young man said that his supervising teacher didn't like anything that he did. As an example, he asked the students to stand up by their desks to view something. Then he had them kneel down next to their desk to view the same thing. He said that he was trying to teach the truth about perspective but his supervisor came down on him royally. Here was a loss for the school systems because these two guys would have brought fun and interest and mystery and truth to classrooms of the future.
Truth, isn't something that is really wanted. How about "saying something nice to others?" Now here is one that can really get you into trouble. "That dress makes you look_______." (Fill in the blank.) Are you going to mention that the color is right or that it makes her look fat? Just how are you going to get around the truth?
We all have our secrets. Some of us have more than others. For instance, my husband cannot keep a secret. If I don't want the whole world to know something, I either tell him not to say anything or I make sure that he doesn't knows about it. "The fudge is NOT for the party."
Growing up in my family, we were always supposed to tell the truth. Sometimes that meant taking the punishment for what had happened, but I learned that the truth can get you into real trouble.
When I was in fifth and sixth grade we had a wonderful teacher. Everyone in our class just loved her. She got married and then became pregnant and had to quit in the middle of our sixth year. So our class got a substitute teacher for the rest of the year.
When I think back, I am not sure just why none of the kids liked her, but it was very obvious that they didn't. They wouldn't do anything that she said. The class got out of control a lot and she would cry when this happened. So every day she would ask one student to stand up and tell her why the kids wouldn't mind her. Everyone said that they didn't know. About four weeks into this, it was my turn.
Now up until this time, I had a very good relationship with my classmates. We would go to birthday parties at each other's houses and I even went over to their houses after school. But "My turn" changed all of that.
When I stood up there and she asked me why the kids wouldn't mind her, I said that it was because they didn't like her.
If they could have sent bolts of lighten to killed me at that time, I wouldn't be writing this.
Only one person in that room would play with me at recess. The two of us would talk about all sorts of things…That is until Valentine's Day was coming. Then the class asked the teacher if she would leave the room so that they could have a meeting and they asked my friend and me to leave too. We knew that they were planning to give our teacher a Valentine's Day present. It was a way of proving that what I said was not the truth. (I guess in a way, I united this class even if I became the target.) So my friend and I decided to make something for the teacher ourselves. We both knew how to crochet so we made look-alike doilies. We did a rather nice job at it too but after that project together, my friend didn't want to be left out anymore. (I couldn't really blame her. In high school she went on to became one of the top cheerleaders.)
It was a lonely spring. I remember playing on the playground with some marbles all by myself. When the snow started to melt, I made creeks of water in the cracks of the snow. I would stand by the building sometimes and watch everyone playing. Those three months until summer vacation were very long.
It was the beginning of learning that I was different. Learning that I could survive alone. Learning that people really don't want to know the truth.
As luck would have it, in Seventh grade all the country school seventh graders were bused to town and we had a lot of new people that didn't know that I was the one that had spoken out to our substitute teacher.
I am sure that this was in my school record because I had a lot of teachers in seventh grade that were very nice to me.
One of them asked if I would like to come down to the science room twice a week during study hall and water the plants there. I liked doing that. It gave me a chance to be by myself, without anyone else around. Maybe I was getting used to being with just me? (Perhaps it was that beginning of my love of plants. I did taste the drops that Impatiens create on the ends of their leaves. It is sugar sweet.)
In English class we took a test and I got the highest grade on the Dewey Decimal System so I got to work in the library putting books back in their places. Both of these took me out of the routine that everyone else had.
It is funny how one thing can change things for a very long time. Even getting to know a lot of new kids, I still never felt good enough after that. That feeling lasted for a very long time. If you have read the story about my teen years you know that in one sense, I never got over that set back until I graduated from High School. Even now at the reunions, I really don't know those people. I had very little in common with them then and now. I found out that I do like to be by myself and I do feel good about me.
It isn't just the people I went to school with, it is everyone who professes to want the truth but in reality, they don't.
Take a court of law, how much truth is allowed to be expressed? The jury is asked to make a decision based on only what is expressed and then they don't get the whole truth. It is based on how and what questions are asked? Don't tell us all about it, just answer Yes or No. We don't really want to know what happened.
Truth is very interesting. It is molded and stretched and colored to fit the occasion. I am very careful to give facts today. My students expect me to tell them the truth and I do but I make sure of my facts when I do this. I still have a hard time being social but I work at it. Most of the time I still find myself standing alone even in a crowd being the observer.
I remember thinking that having a mate or partner would change that feeling but most of what I have done, has been alone. I wish to make exception of what I have just said, because my sisters have been there for me more than anyone else in the world. They have accepted all my insecurities and oddities. I guess that is my truth.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
Wisconsin
Today is a typical Wisconsin Spring day. I hesitate to call this spring as it in the last week in May and one would normally think of this as being a part of summer but it isn't. We have all our windows opened and yesterday I took my forty house plants outside to "sink or swim" as they may. I will be checking the nightly weather report to see if they need to be covered and I do have to water them today as I was expecting rain last night to no avail.
Years ago when I moved back from California, I had to purchase warmer clothes for. Even today I put on a heavy sweat suit because the damp cool air is everywhere. I believe I only own a couple pairs of shorts now and in California my wardrobe was full of them. I have found very few days that need cool clothes but I do have a few. One gets acclimated to the different areas, I guess I still like it a bit warmer but I also like it a bit greener. I found that on the west side of the Mississippi River, the green under goes a change and starts to take on more yellow as it goes west.
When we were growing up along the lake, the first time that we opened up a building in the spring, one could always smell the damp that went through everything. After living in California, I call it Wisconsin musk.
My sister, who grew up in Wisconsin but now lives in California, had to be reminded to close the crackers or cookies so that they stay crisp. It is the little things that one forgets from place to place.
How about hair dryers? In California, I could wash my hair and leave for work, by the time I got there my hair would be dry, not so in Wisconsin.
My California sister went to Florida to help take care of our Mother in the '90s and she told me that she felt like she was drowning because of the high humidity.
When I first moved back everyone wanted to know either "Why?" or "Which did I like best?" One of the things that I found interesting is that everywhere one lives has its good points and its bad points.
In California, we went from an air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned work place. In Wisconsin it is similar. Here we go from heat to heat to heat.
The only thing that makes a place different is the people. I have always thought of myself as a nester. That means that I can create a home wherever I find myself.
Wisconsin has so much to offer but then any place that you find yourself does. It is just different. The world around you can change to a greater or lesser degree but the ME of me still stays the same.
I remember the first time I took my Daughter to Canada. She was so disappointed. She wanted it to be like the movies with the red uniforms on the police, etc. When she saw a McDonalds and other familiar businesses, it looked just like what we had left, she wasn't sure that we had really gone into Canada. We spent the night but it was never the same for her.
Basically where you are and how you look at something has to do with your version of reality. Wisconsin is different from California only from my view point.
One of the things that I liked about California was the fact that everyone was from someplace else. They didn't have your history on file, so to speak. I had a friend tell me that was what he liked about living in Florida. He was judged by what he did and what he said, not based on his family history.
My daughter had a problem with that when we moved to Wisconsin. She would have a friend with her and my Aunt would ask the friend her last name. Kathy didn't like that. She felt that each person should be judged by how she acted or what she did while there, not by the fact that her father was always in trouble or her mother's family lived on the wrong side of town. Kathy wanted to be known by who she was. She disliked the fact that people connected her with her Grandfather who had a business and had done well in town. "Why can't they just see me as Kathy?" Small towns are that way.
One of the kids that Kathy hung around with when she first moved here asked her if it wasn't hard cutting the grass with all those gold nuggets on the lawn. People have strange ideas of what is out there.
My advice is to enjoy where you find yourself and find out all the things that you can about that area. Whenever I move to a new location, I make it one of my special things to do, going out in one direction and finding out all I can about that area. I save another directions for different time.
By doing this I have been amazed at all the interesting things that I come across, like the old model T that had a tree growing through it in a woods just north of me. (Oh, it isn't there now but it was the first time I explored that woods.)
How about the quarry that is full of cool deep water and no one swims in because it is hidden from everyone? I found that on a bike ride down a path that I even ran into some teens once. I bet they swim in that quarry.
The world around us is an adventure. One of the television stations has a new program called A TRIP ON A TANK. That is because of the high gas prices and they are trying to encourage people to take day trips and see things that aren't a long way off. Wisconsin has more adventures than we could do in lifetimes.
We have a new paved bike trail in our county that is about 3 blocks from my house. It goes from the southernmost part of our county to the northern most part. I haven't biked on all of it yet but a couple of weeks ago I did go on a 10 mile round trip.
Because I am an herbalist, I love to find out what is growing and where. Each time that I venture out, different things are in blossom or in a different stage of growth. That in is self is an adventure for me.
Explore your world and find an adventure .
Years ago when I moved back from California, I had to purchase warmer clothes for. Even today I put on a heavy sweat suit because the damp cool air is everywhere. I believe I only own a couple pairs of shorts now and in California my wardrobe was full of them. I have found very few days that need cool clothes but I do have a few. One gets acclimated to the different areas, I guess I still like it a bit warmer but I also like it a bit greener. I found that on the west side of the Mississippi River, the green under goes a change and starts to take on more yellow as it goes west.
When we were growing up along the lake, the first time that we opened up a building in the spring, one could always smell the damp that went through everything. After living in California, I call it Wisconsin musk.
My sister, who grew up in Wisconsin but now lives in California, had to be reminded to close the crackers or cookies so that they stay crisp. It is the little things that one forgets from place to place.
How about hair dryers? In California, I could wash my hair and leave for work, by the time I got there my hair would be dry, not so in Wisconsin.
My California sister went to Florida to help take care of our Mother in the '90s and she told me that she felt like she was drowning because of the high humidity.
When I first moved back everyone wanted to know either "Why?" or "Which did I like best?" One of the things that I found interesting is that everywhere one lives has its good points and its bad points.
In California, we went from an air-conditioned house to an air-conditioned car to an air-conditioned work place. In Wisconsin it is similar. Here we go from heat to heat to heat.
The only thing that makes a place different is the people. I have always thought of myself as a nester. That means that I can create a home wherever I find myself.
Wisconsin has so much to offer but then any place that you find yourself does. It is just different. The world around you can change to a greater or lesser degree but the ME of me still stays the same.
I remember the first time I took my Daughter to Canada. She was so disappointed. She wanted it to be like the movies with the red uniforms on the police, etc. When she saw a McDonalds and other familiar businesses, it looked just like what we had left, she wasn't sure that we had really gone into Canada. We spent the night but it was never the same for her.
Basically where you are and how you look at something has to do with your version of reality. Wisconsin is different from California only from my view point.
One of the things that I liked about California was the fact that everyone was from someplace else. They didn't have your history on file, so to speak. I had a friend tell me that was what he liked about living in Florida. He was judged by what he did and what he said, not based on his family history.
My daughter had a problem with that when we moved to Wisconsin. She would have a friend with her and my Aunt would ask the friend her last name. Kathy didn't like that. She felt that each person should be judged by how she acted or what she did while there, not by the fact that her father was always in trouble or her mother's family lived on the wrong side of town. Kathy wanted to be known by who she was. She disliked the fact that people connected her with her Grandfather who had a business and had done well in town. "Why can't they just see me as Kathy?" Small towns are that way.
One of the kids that Kathy hung around with when she first moved here asked her if it wasn't hard cutting the grass with all those gold nuggets on the lawn. People have strange ideas of what is out there.
My advice is to enjoy where you find yourself and find out all the things that you can about that area. Whenever I move to a new location, I make it one of my special things to do, going out in one direction and finding out all I can about that area. I save another directions for different time.
By doing this I have been amazed at all the interesting things that I come across, like the old model T that had a tree growing through it in a woods just north of me. (Oh, it isn't there now but it was the first time I explored that woods.)
How about the quarry that is full of cool deep water and no one swims in because it is hidden from everyone? I found that on a bike ride down a path that I even ran into some teens once. I bet they swim in that quarry.
The world around us is an adventure. One of the television stations has a new program called A TRIP ON A TANK. That is because of the high gas prices and they are trying to encourage people to take day trips and see things that aren't a long way off. Wisconsin has more adventures than we could do in lifetimes.
We have a new paved bike trail in our county that is about 3 blocks from my house. It goes from the southernmost part of our county to the northern most part. I haven't biked on all of it yet but a couple of weeks ago I did go on a 10 mile round trip.
Because I am an herbalist, I love to find out what is growing and where. Each time that I venture out, different things are in blossom or in a different stage of growth. That in is self is an adventure for me.
Explore your world and find an adventure .
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