The Donut Hole is Closed

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This morning I parked myself in my Lazygirl with an ominous sense of quiet dread that mid-afternoon might arrive before I even started writing today’s blog.  What shall I write?  What can I talk about?  Has the well run dry?  I sit.  I wait.  I listen.  Nothing.

An unsettling thought silently creeps in.  I’m staring down into the donut hole again.  Somehow, I’ve slipped into uh-oh territory without realizing it.  I wake up, look around, and here I am again, like it or not.  How did I get here without my permission?   I have no idea.  All I know is that I don’t like it.

It might have been a gradual slip that occurred while I wasn’t paying attention.  I may have inadvertently allowed myself to dip into the sneaky, dark inner recesses of my mind that takes great pleasure in undermining me, that distracts me from my path and purpose.  I might have been listening to the wrong voice again.  Yep.  I might have done that.  Note to self:  Be vigilant.

The light goes on and I realize—oh.  This is what I write about today.  I’m back now, with the opposite problem.  There is so much to say in 600 words or less that I don’t know where to begin.  Or end.

I could talk about lights that go on in the dark, or about the importance of developing an up-close and personal relationship with one’s inner self, or about having a sense of knowingness that all is well, or of faith, guidance, or grace, of awareness, or of being woke, as they say these days—I’m not quite sure what that means, but I guess it’s a good thing.

Out of all of it, what has been the most important aspect for me is developing an inner relationship with my soul, the part of myself, that loves me as I am, supports and guides me, that supplies grist for the writing mill, and above all else, redirects my attention back to my path and purpose when I lose sight of it, when I am at risk of tumbling headfirst down the donut hole.

In the midst of the world crisis in which we are living, there are donut holes everywhere I look.  They come in all sizes, shapes, and forms, and their name is fear.  They involve us personally, and they involve the world in general.  If we allow it, we’ll all find ourselves clumped together in a heap at the bottom of the hole.

But wait!  Before sinking down into the hole, stop and think for a minute think about how powerful you are.  Think about the fact that there is something within you that contains the wisdom of the ages.  Think about your ability to turn on the light within yourself to lift yourself out of the darkness, and in the process, light the way for others.

For a brief moment this morning, I forgot who I was and found myself sitting alone in the dark fretting about the subject of today’s blog.  Now, as I come to an end, I am reminded that there is within me, a voice of wisdom that is always there for me, offering the quiet assurance that there is nothing that I need because I have everything, and that all I must do to hear it is sit down, be still, and listen.  There is no crisis that is too big for the power within.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Cookies, Cream, and Gratitude

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Life is full of challenging little obstacles, have you noticed?  Miraculously, I’ve jumped over the blog-a-day hurdle, but as it turns out that was the easy part.  In this age of technology, my next obstacle is to figure out how to solve my current problem of feeling like a ghost, thanks to my inability to communicate with readers and bloggers.   Meanwhile, until I get around to actually doing it, I will continue to suffer through the agony of dysfunction and blunder my way through, hoping that the problem will somehow magically solve itself.  Good luck with that.

I have this feeling that I’m living life in a blog vacuum because every attempt at being in touch with fellow bloggers is stymied.  I can see you and hear you, but you hear nothing from me in return.  I know that you’re out there somewhere, reading, commenting, liking and following—but my responses go unheard.  Clearly, there is something seriously amiss in my relationship with the WordPress platform, and until I get it resolved, I’ll be living life out here in the ghost lane all by myself.

I’d like to fix the technological problem, mind you, but I need the incentive and a little willingness to get me past the objection stage.  It’s like that go-to-the-dentist feeling again.   I don’t really want to, but if I am to gain the benefit, I must be willing to suffer a little pain.  Rats.  Maybe the degree to which I suffer relates to the depth of my willingness.  If it’s really worth it to me, I’m all in.  If not, most likely I’ll turn and run the other way.  So my ask myself, is it worth it?  Am I willing to do whatever it takes to solve the problem?  Maybe.  Eventually.  I guess that all depends on how much I want what I want.

I once spent a zany afternoon at the pig races.  Yes, pig races.  I loved watching all of those adorable pudgy little pink piggys whip around the track in hot pursuit of the cookies and cream waiting for them at the finish line.  Clearly, those little cuties had everything they needed to get what they wanted, and they were going for it, full steam ahead.

It’s never easy to sit myself down and do the hard stuff, but eventually I’ll reach a point where it is harder not to do it than it is to just do it.  Willingness is the gun that shoots me out of the gate.  Without willingness and incentive, the finish line is forever away.  For now, at least I’ve made it into the chute, waiting for the starting gun to blast me out onto the track.  It may be a while before it does, but it will go off sooner or later and I’ll get there.  Eventually.

Meanwhile, until eventually happens dear readers, likers, and followers, please know that I appreciate you beyond words and thank you so much for being there.  Even though you may not see me or hear from ghostly me, I am, in fact here and thanking you—as the little girl accepting a big award once said—from my bottom to my top.  I hope that you will see me soon.

Bring on the cookies and cream.

 

 

 

Blessings in Boo-Boos

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Stuff happens.  That was the opening sentence of yesterday’s original blog before the great delete debacle happened, and what could be a better example of stuff than that?  Lessons  Yep.  It happens when and where you least expect it.  There’s big stuff and little stuff and all sizes of stuff in between, but stuff it is, and the question becomes, so what am I going to do about it?

I got a chuckle out of the response from one reader who said that when stuff like that happens to her, she runs outside and yells “fire, fire!”  I am definitely going to try that sometime.  The neighbors may try to catch me with a butterfly net, but hey—that’s all part of the fun.

Fortunately, yesterday’s incident was a one-act play and I was the only actor.  Sometimes though, the stage is filled with an entire cast of characters enmeshed in a comedy of errors or a tragedy involving pain and suffering.  When personally involved in such a scenario, I like to pretend that I’m sitting in the audience observing the show from afar and not let myself become too entangled in the story.  When the play ends, I go home and analyze the plot to see what I might have changed, and study the parts of the players and my reaction to them.  Often, I rewrite the ending so that everyone walks away with a sense of peace and satisfaction

Ah, good old Pollyanna.  She loves those happy endings.

Then I take on the role of a theater critic, except instead of evaluating the play, the plot, and the acting, I look for meaning, lessons, and blessings.  Was it worth identifying with the pain or suffering happening on stage?  Was there a benefit involved, however miniscule or obscure?  Did I learn anything?  Is there something that I could have done differently?  If I had changed my reaction, might there have been a better outcome?

Sometimes I think that the stuff that happens is a set-up job to help us move forward on the pathway toward our own enlightenment.  Every glitch that comes our way arrives complete with an ending that allows us to learn a lesson, find a benefit, and embrace the blessing that is inherent within it.  The ending is up to the players.  We can choose happy, or we can choose unhappy.  Each actor decides his or her own role.

So did I choose a happy ending after yesterday’s big boo-boo?  Was there a lesson?  The world didn’t end because I made a mistake.  Was there a blessing?  Absolutely.  Once I recovered from the shock of what I had done, I thought the whole incident was hysterical.  I felt a profound sense of gratitude because I was able to recover quickly and whip out a replacement blog in the space of ten minutes, and enjoy the freedom of writing with the sense of wild abandon of dancing as if no one was watching.

God bless the boo-boos, for without them we would miss the profound teachings that life has to offer us.  The great lessons, gifts, and blessings always await our discovery, if we will but seek to find them.  Happy hunting, my friends.

Learning Lessons in Real Time

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I just spent a couple of hours writing today’s blog.  I put the finishing touches on it before pushing the publish button, then accidentally pushed the delete button instead.  Shoot me now.  It was all about how everything happens for a reason and that there is a lesson that can be found in every unhappy, unfortunate situation.  Well now.  Didn’t I just give myself the opportunity of a lifetime to practice what I preach?  Back to square one.  Sigh.

Fellow writers and bloggers, can you relate?  Lesson 1:  Save.  I knew that, but I flunked Save.  Some of us are slow learners.

So I suck my heart back up out of my stomach and begin again.  Okay, so where was I?  There was something about learning from my mistakes, about wrenching my elbow out of joint while trying to extract my foot from my mouth, blah blah blah.

It was about converting miseries into miracles.  I felt pretty good about it too, and even managed to find a link to add (a shortcoming, you may recall) but now alas, poof—it’s all gone.  Maybe with luck I can find a new link to the thing about links.  Stay tuned but don’t hold your breath.

Meanwhile, like the kid in the room with all of the manure, I know that there must be a pony in here somewhere.

Well I’m just going to have to fumble my way through this one till I find a point, or come to an end, or figure it out, or giggle my way through this cruel twist of fate, or maybe suss out a lesson, or learn to get by on a hum, a wing, and a prayer.  You know—resort to your basic stream-of-consciousness stuff.  What can I say?

One of the things that I’ve learned along the way is that by the time I’ve pushed the publish button, I feel as if I’ve put in a whole day’s work and it’s only 9:00 a.m.  I’m done.  It’s breakfast first then nap.  Like I always say—we get to repeat our lessons until we learn them.  Repeat, repeat, repeat.

It would really be cool if the missing blog suddenly reappeared like magic but I doubt that’s going to happen.  But the miracle that I was talking about in the missing blog was about finding compassion, love, healing, and happy endings in the midst of what I call the miseries, those life situations that make you want to pull the ostrich act and run off in search of sand into which to stick the head, kind of like now, this moment, when I’d like to run off and stick my head under the covers.

Well so here’s my question to myself.  Have I learned anything here (besides push the Save button, I mean)?  I don’t know about that yet.  It’s a little too soon.  Maybe I’ll figure it out later.  Or not.

Maybe it’s just about another lesson in letting go, and going with the flow, of being okay with the way things are, of loving and forgiving myself in spite of my silly foibles, of making the best of whatever the situation is.  The deleted blog took a lot of time and thought.  This one was whipped off in about ten minutes and was a whole lot more fun to write.  Don’t know about you, but I enjoyed the process.  Hope you enjoyed the read!

Ta ta for now.  Off for my nap.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

What’s the Point?

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Some days are just better than others.  Some days I can sit down at the computer and stuff rolls out faster than I can type.  Other days, not so much.  Today is one of those other days.  I keep wanting to compare my life to my jumbled computer filing system, but that’s just bad news and doesn’t work out well.  It’s frustrating.

Friends tell me that during the pandemic, they’ve cleaned out every drawer, every closet in their home.  I, on the other hand, have added to my disorganization by creating a new anthology of computer files thanks to my recent habit of writing a daily blog.  Good luck to me if I want to add a link to something that I wrote days or weeks ago, because I can’t find it.  One of these days I’ll print them all out and stick them in a notebook with some sort of index system.  The whole sorry mess mirrors the closets and drawers of my life that still beg for my attention.  Sigh

Wait—is this the point where my dear friend who was upset with me for not showing myself in a more favorable light might be angry with me again?  Or perhaps is it the point where I might be a little angry with myself?  (See?  A link here would be a really nice touch, wouldn’t it?)

Okay, now I‘m stuck.  Where am I supposed to be going from here?  Is this the moment of panic where I say to myself, “See?  I knew I couldn’t do it!”?  Nope.  Not going there.

Maybe it’s time to have a little chat with myself.  Okay, fine.  So I’m stuck.  It’s not the end of the world. Maybe there’s a reason for stuck.  Is there a point to all of this go-nowhere jabber?  Am I missing something?

Oh—I get it.  Maybe the point is that I don’t always have to know what I’m doing, or what is going on, but it’s okay, because that’s life.  Maybe the point is that there doesn’t always have to be a point to everything, or that there may be one, but I just may not see it.  Maybe my only job is to let life flow without having to control the outcome, or have an opinion about everything, and just let it be whatever it is.  Maybe I’m just supposed to be the observer, the one who sits back, watches, and accepts without judging, who forgives and loves unconditionally.

I like it.  That kind of a life would work for me—a-let-go-let-God sort of an existence.  Maybe I just need to have enough faith, enough trust in the process to know that it’s all okay, whatever it is.  Pollyanna?  Maybe.  But isn’t that a better existence than stressing out over every cluttered closet or lost computer file, or guys who run around with M-14’s because they don’t want to wear masks?

Maybe it’s time to practice equanimity and work on seeking  a balance between being and doing (Be-Do).  I can be Pollyanna and still clean up a few computer files along the way.  I can shift my focus from fear to love.  I can have a little faith, trust myself, and add a link.  And I did.  Yay me.  It’s a start.  Just start.  Maybe that’s the point.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

The Bridge from Then to Now

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There was a time when I thought it might be kind of fun to be a columnist.  It was an intriguing notion, but there seemed to be just one little problem.  It turns out that it was me.  Imagine that!

The problem was that I had this idea that there was no way that I could ever, in my wildest dreams or imagination possibly conjure up the wherewithal, the way, the wits, determination, self-discipline, the inspiration, the creativity to crank out a column on a regular basis.  Oh, the pressure!  The very thought scared me to death.  No sir.  No column for me.  I packed that thought away and slipped it into the recesses of memory along with all of my other fanciful dreams and aspirations.  But that was then.

And this is now.  Today, I am awake at o’dark thirty, sitting with my trusty computer on my lap cranking out a blog for the 37th day in a row, sorting through a never ending flow of words, possibilities, and ideas that compete to show up on the page.

This is a stunning turn of events.  However in the world did such a thing happen, I wonder?

What have I learned between then and now?  What has changed?  I guess it’s me.  Wait—what am I saying?  Of course it’s me.

There are about 200 more words left to write before I close the computer clamshell on today’s blog.  How can I answer such a profound question in so few words?  How do you cram a lifetime of personal growth in a couple of hundred of words or less?

If I had to put it in a word—literally, one word—it would be listen.  Or maybe three words—listen, listen, listen.

I have always known that there is a still, small, quiet Voice within that is a whole lot smarter than I am.  A spirit, a soul, a guide, or whatever one may want to call it.

But like a stubborn teenager, I have rebelled and refused to listen.  I have gone off on merry toots thinking that I knew what’s right, good, and best for me, until I fall flat on my face and realize that maybe I was wrong.  The prodigal daughter surrenders and returns—at least for a while, until the next time.  But the voice waits patiently, ever there, to forgive and embrace me as I reenter the fold and  I repent, sorry to have so rudely kept this kind helper waiting for me to get over myself.  Countless times, I have left the fold, made my mistakes, then returned home.

Finally, finally, I have learned the wisdom of listening to the Voice that is a whole lot smarter than I am, the Voice that tells me the Truth about me, rather than the lies I tell to myself, the Voice that says yes you can instead of the one that says no you can’t.

Somehow through my years of trial and error, of listening and not, I have crossed the bridge between then and now and finally landed here in my Lazygirl writing the 37th blog du jour.  Who would have thought?

If I had it to do all over again, I would have listened more.  Listened sooner.  Listened to the Voice that knows a whole lot more about me than I do.  I highly recommend it.  It will take you to better places than you can ever imagine for yourself.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

To Do or Not to Do

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Yesterday’s blog was all about setting priorities for post-pandemic life New Normal.  Then as if on cue, I received a You Tube video (see link below)  from my friend Pamela for the folks in her exercise for seniors class.  Perfect!  Just the incentive I needed to get up out of my Lazygirl and get moving.

Before diving in head first, of course, I had to see what I was in for, so I sat and watched for all of ten minutes before I had to turn it off due to sheer exhaustion.  How does she do that?  Where does she get all that energy?  The Jane Fonda of Seniors.

Well duh.  She does it because she does it.  Obviously, there was a point in her life where she simply decided to do it, so she did it.  She works out.  I watch.  The good news is that my ten-minute excursion into Exercise by Voyeurism sent me off on another round of self-exploration.

I’ve always been better at dropping bad habits than adopting good ones.   Clearly, I’m better at passive activity (is that an oxymoron?) like not smoking, not drinking, and not watching TV than I am at the stuff I have to do—the aggressive stuff, like changing my diet, exercising, meditating, building good habits.  I guess that my lazy nature simply prefers the not doing to the doing.

But in keeping with yesterday’s venture into creating a new game plan for post-pandemic life, a balance between doing and being was high on the list, right up there with exercise and time management.   Hmm.  I guess it’s no accident that Pamela’s video landed in my inbox when it did.

I am happy to say that today marks the one-month anniversary of my commitment to write and publish a daily blog.  One month!  That’s pretty doggoned miraculous for a reluctant doer like myself, I’d say.  Kudos to me.

As Pamela keeps on exercising, I keep on writing—at least for now.  Her dedication fuels mine.  It gives me the incentive to keep on keeping on and to do whatever I can to improve daily, not just writing, but my life in its entirety, even if requires getting out of my Lazygirl and shaking my booty.   Rats.  Oh wait—I can do it joyfully, or I can do it grudgingly.  Always my choice, right?

Today I’m going take a stab at exercising, even if I last less than five minutes.  Today, I added fuel to my writing fire by ordering a book by fellow blogger Jessica Davidson (Free Your Pen Website). Today, I will do my best to do whatever is before me to do.  As I persevere, I’ll get stronger and last longer by strengthening muscles, both physical and spiritual.  The more I do, the more I can do.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life and there’s a whole lot of doing and being yet to be done.  Today I will celebrate that I woke up this morning and that I have another day in which to do it.  Today, I will give thanks for it all.  Including the exercise.

PS:  Link to Pamela’s video:  https://youtu.be/MUBPOa6P8IQ

PPS:  To all of you beautiful life giving nurturers out there, Happy Mother’s Day, with love!

 Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).