Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘positive attitudes’

A Little Time with Little People

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on April 3, 2016| 1 Comment »

Childhood means simplicity. Look at the world with the child’s eye – it is very beautiful. (Kailash Satyarthi)

Ella, a toy Mickey Mouse, and I cook with plastic plates, cups, anything that could act as a pretend utensil. The fact that Mickey, Ella, and I are not even close to being the same size doesn’t matter as we share Ella’s chicken, both invisible and delicious. Reality can be stretched in any direction with a strong imagination.

We need to leave for the ten-mile drive to kindergarten soon. Very soon. I tell Ella. To her time is as invisible as the chicken that could turn into brownies at whim.

Nevertheless, we make it to the car. And go on a bear hunt, with a few changes in the script. The bears become white or red, according to Ella’s whim. And the drive becomes beautiful instead of ordinary and tedious.

***

Dakota cooks using the same play utensils and Play-Doh. Usually his creations become chocolate cake. And he expects me to eat far more than a sumo wrestler could handle at one sitting. I feel full even though the blue or yellow clay has never touched my lips. His attention span doesn’t last long, however.

He picks up the book I wrote for Ella. It was never meant to be published. It is in a three-ring plastic binder. I printed two copies. One for Ella, one for her bus driver—a principal character.

I ask Dakota if he wants a book about him for his birthday. He thinks for a moment and answers, “With me and with Ella.”

The world through a young person’s eyes. Simple. Honest. Beautiful enough to make my tear ducts leak. Just a little.

My adult agenda gets overwhelming. Sometimes I wonder if I have enough time to stop and play with my little ones. Then I realize the stopping is life. My writing agenda merely talks about it.

Ella and Dakota playing

 

Read Full Post »

The Abundant Ordinary

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 26, 2016| Leave a Comment »

Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.  (Eckhart Tolle)

Sure I can take one thing at a time, I tell myself as I grab a breakfast bar to save time, then open the dishwasher to unload it. Uh, maybe not. Nothing like rewashing dishes because they have peanut-butter residue on them.

I’m trying to decide how Terry as overwhelmed-monkey-in-the-middle-of-chaos could have been averted yesterday…by multitasking on my own time today. Okay, from the top. Take one thing at a time, and acknowledge the goodness in each moment. As that moment occurs.

I try to plan for every contingency—in advance. Something like directing raindrops into rain barrels. Without overflow. Or flooding. No real-life messiness anywhere.

Simultaneous requests will probably not go away. Some folk may need to wait. Some tasks, too. Do I need breakfast first or should I return plates and silverware to their designated homes within my home? Either way I drop things if I move too quickly.

Right now I’m glad my grandchildren enjoy being with Grandma and Grandpa. My son has taken over plans for a family birthday party. I turn seventy soon. A friend offered to take me shopping for a much-needed bathing suit, although she can’t do it today. My suit has faded and thinned. If it could talk it would beg to be euthanized. I find a replacement. It won’t last forever either. Nothing does.

Humor and gratitude: a winning combination. My health is improving. And I decide not to take it for granted anymore. This day is a gift, a syncopated, less-than-choreographed, clumsy dance.

But each minor imperfection doesn’t matter.

Life is innately good.

Dance even if there is no music

Read Full Post »

Thinking, Not Over-Thinking

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on March 19, 2016| Leave a Comment »

Never be afraid to sit awhile and think. (Lorraine Hansberry)

Think. Not over-think, worry’s first cousin.

I’m on my way to an exercise class. The class is my chance to kick, run, jump into a V-step or Charleston left, then right—all in my own clumsy timing. I’m definitely back-row inept. So what if the person in front of me is five foot eleven and I need higher heels to hit the five-foot mark. At least I won’t confuse anyone behind me.

Traffic is light for a Friday morning. I sit, drive, and take in the moment as my ’97 Toyota follows the familiar route.

The sky is blue, clear. And I breathe in and out slowly with the hope that my spirit can find similar clarity. A bird crosses the road. Too low. It almost hits my windshield. I’m reminded of the sparrow that lay dead in our driveway yesterday. I’ve seen too much loss lately. Large and small. I realize I can’t discover the beauty of each moment when I’m running on high speed in multiple directions.

My unwritten chore list is long. Again. I am hosting a friend’s birthday party this weekend. My office is also my grandchildren’s play area. The carpet is filled with tiny pieces of paper, remnants of kid art, what my mother called snibbles. Actually, I never heard the word anywhere else. So I asked my brother Bill if he knew anything about the word.

He speaks fluent German, and years ago, before we both had kids, he beat me at Scrabble. Regularly. I saved the score sheets and averaged the points. He was three points a word more proficient. But did he gloat? Heavens, no. We played cooperative games to see how many points we could gather together. Well over 700. That board grew with diverse, well-connected words and designs. Now Bill works to recognize people, not politics. The people of Palestine. Persons. Individuals. Not a lumped nameless mass.

This is where my thinking leads me now: I am proud of my younger brother.

He found snibbles in the Urban Dictionary. My bro, both intelligent and resourceful. And the sunshine outside seeps inside me just a little bit more.

In the meantime, daffodils are beginning to bloom. Grass pushes up green blades from thawed earth. The goldfinch has started to display his warm-weather feathers.

Beginnings. Each moment. As I sit. In the car. Or on the porch. As I stand. In the line at the grocery. Waiting. Anywhere. During celebrations and during painful times. Think, Terry, with expectant awareness. And live in the now. The naysayers will come. Ready to criticize another for hair or skin color, race, intelligence, or immigrant status. Ready to separate us from them, to say one group is more human than another.

But, you can’t be knocked over by hate, Terry, because you are caught off-guard in your own trivial considerations. One more time. Catch the beauty. Know it is real. Gain strength. Opinions change. Truth does not. Think. Think. Think…

bluebird and rainbow

Read Full Post »

Happy Birthday, Kate

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on March 12, 2016| 1 Comment »

Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don’t always like. (Lemony Snicket)

Something peculiar has been happening with my computer. Definitely malicious and now repaired—costly, but repaired. Now, my iPad refuses to interact with our Internet system. My husband’s  relatively new computer doesn’t want to have anything to do with it either. He is on the phone now trying to connect. Nothing.

I have three kids at the house. All three of them—and my husband—are trying to connect with me. Something like sharing one Cheerio among four people.  My stress level escalates. I am not winning the serenity award.

Moreover, it is my oldest granddaughter’s birthday today, March 11. She is twelve-years old. This is not how I planned to celebrate the beginning of her last year before she becomes a teenager.

However, since I need to find the jewel in this situation, I realize she is the gift. While I run like water overflowing the sink, she keeps her cousin Ella occupied and out of Grandpa’s way. She dresses her young cousin for the birthday party. She makes me proud of her.

Kate is a rare and beautiful girl. She lacks the self-centeredness most teens and preteens develop because they don’t know who they are yet. She and another child have dreams that are filled with integrity. They want to establish a foundation for the homeless.

I’d like to say that my oldest granddaughter’s example has completely pulled me out of my funk. It hasn’t. Yet. The electronic world and I have bonded. It’s the tool I use to communicate beautiful truths when ugliness wants to take over the world.

But utopia hasn’t arrived yet. The restaurant I visit serves unexpected problems as well as Play-Doh cakes made by four to six-year-old cooks, and the lids to the colored clay often get lost long enough for the clay to dry out.

In the meantime, I have a brand new twelve-year-old granddaughter named Kate to keep me somewhat on track. And I am most grateful. Happy birthday, beautiful!

perfect moments PIQ

 

Read Full Post »

Readjustments and a Cake Made of Legos

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 5, 2016| 1 Comment »

The art of life is a constant readjustment to our surroundings. (Kakuzo Okakaura) 

Today could be declared Murphy’s Law day because what didn’t go wrong at least turned sideways. The details would take up too much space to list. Almost anyone living in the real world can give personal examples with little thought.

Readjustments take more flexibility than my agenda allows.

I finally get a chance to write—for what I think will be an hour—when I’m needed somewhere else. No question about it.

“I really hate to bother you,” my needy friend says.

My answer comes with a sigh, but not much thought. “I left a funeral no more than seven hours ago. Two women I know lost husbands this week. What am I giving up?” The answer is rhetorical because I don’t want to admit how much I cherish my precious, guarded quiet time. I think I can get through this.

And I do. My creative inspiration before the interruption lay somewhere between pause and stutter anyway. Most of my work this evening returned into the backspace key. I have already forgotten the erased words, and it is probably better that way. Like every writer, my work doesn’t fall onto the page the way the credits appear after a movie—in quick, neat-flowing lines.

Toys lay scattered on the floor of the room where I type. Another chore on the endless list. And then, I notice a block of Legos and remember my middle granddaughter’s building project. At first she wanted to make a building, with symmetrical sections and colors that match. Windows, or at least open spaces. Decorative pieces in fun places. A roof, all one color. But we didn’t have enough orange pieces to cover the top—not without a wrecking crew and a plan to make something smaller.

Eventually my granddaughter did start over. She designed a cake. She accepted the fact that our building supplies are scarce, and created an imperfectly colored celebration. A happy birthday for her sister turning twelve next week and a blessing for me today.

I can’t expect more from each day than what is. But often, each moment is enough—more than enough.

Miss Rebe’s art

Lego cake

Read Full Post »

Living Through the Unknown, Unanswered Questions

Posted in positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2016| 6 Comments »

There are no easy answers, there’s only living through the questions. (Elizabeth George)

Sun streams through the window and I try to hold onto the brightness, as if blue sky carried answers to questions that don’t fit into logical formulas. Life. Death. Illness. The healed and unhealed. The why.

The husband of a friend died yesterday. Several other people have cancer. A friend of my husband was just diagnosed with non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver. Magic wands remain in fiction. Moreover, I look at the political scene and my stomach twists. How can so many people choose hate and see nothing wrong with it? I know a child who could have post-traumatic stress syndrome. I talk to a friend from the Y. “Will you pray for my husband?” Too many folk seem to be suffering right now.

A double rainbow appears on the wall behind my laptop, yet I can’t capture it with a photo. I don’t have adequate equipment. The picture appears dark and the rainbows show pale.  I erase the photo; the rainbows fade. I don’t have the ability to save the world by myself. Nor do I dare to reply to grief with platitudes.

Instead I offer an ear, arms, perhaps some of my time. And perspective appears. What matters? What doesn’t? If I give up my serenity over something small, a traffic delay, spilled juice, a photo that doesn’t work, changed plans that don’t fit my agenda, how much energy will I have when I really need it? Perhaps this is one small part of living through the questions.

Right now I’m aware of what I have and how fragile life can be. However, my attitude can change after a few ordinary, nothing-special days. I pray for awareness, to learn from unanswered questions.

love tainted world Optimism Revolution

 

Read Full Post »

Imaginary Bears, Ella, and the Water Park in February

Posted in Down syndrome awareness, positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on February 20, 2016| Leave a Comment »

Children re-invent your world for you. (Susan Sarandon)

Ella and I play in the shallow end of the water park. We pretend to be in a world where blue, green, and red bears roam with white, brown, and black bears. With mock fear we run from all of them. Ella has told me blue bears eat grass and red bears eat cake, although it could be the other way around. She remembers. I don’t.

Her six-year-old imagination enlivens me.

But when another little girl enters the water with her grandmother I step out of the way and give the children a chance to meet. The other girl hugs toys to her small chest.

Ella notices. “Toys,” she says softly.

The other girl, obviously several years younger, sits in the water next to Ella. She hands her two of her treasures.

“Wow!” I say to the girl’s grandmother. “Unusual for such a young child to be so generous.”

“Well, she isn’t always like that.”

While the children play we grandmothers chat. I celebrate the moment and watch the kids’ stages of interaction, sometimes distant, sometimes close. Never expected.

The girl’s grandfather enters the water. The little girl goes to him and I carry Ella through the oval channel of the Lazy River. Ella points to the little girl and calls her, sister.

I feel blessed by my granddaughter’s simple love. Another woman in the channel comments on the beauty of Ella’s large blue eyes. They relay the honesty of her spirit. Down syndrome limits her body; it does not limit her being.

After Ella and I are dressed and ready to leave, the little girl’s family is in the lobby of the Y. The little girl wants Ella to come to her house. A precious, yet unrealistic request. Ella’s mommy will be picking her up in less than two hours.

I see again the gift of Ella when Mommy and Ella are seated on the floor in our living room. I wish I had a camera ready as our granddaughter leans into her. Ella lets her light shine. Our little girl reaches out to soothe and comfort Mommy, as if she knows she had a long work day.

My world gets complicated even if I don’t work an official eight-hour day. I plan more for one twenty-four-hour period than a planet-toting Atlas would. Then life comes along and adds more. I need to spend time with Ella, choose love first, and then realign my priorities.

No, Ella isn’t an angel. She is human and has her stubborn moments just like everyone else does. But, she doesn’t live in a funk, and she doesn’t hold grudges.

For her each moment is what it is, no more, no less. An incredible opportunity simply to be. I suspect that since I read too much into situations, I have more handicaps than she does.

Thanks for the fun day, Ella.

the world as it should be

Read Full Post »

Two Mini-Splinters and Two Magnificent Neighbors

Posted in inspiration, kindness, positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , on February 14, 2016| Leave a Comment »

The real index of civilization is when people are kinder than they need to be. (Louis de Bernieres)

The wooden railing that leads to our basement is old and splintering. It left two of those shards in my left hand. I tried the smear-the-area-with-baking-soda-paste cure. One of the splinters disappeared with the treatment. The other said, No way, I’m not giving up that easily. And I am left with an aching hand.

I feel like a fool as I ask a neighbor if she can help me. She recently earned a nursing degree. The temperature outside has dropped into the Frigid Zone and the sun set at least an hour ago. Why couldn’t I have thought to ask her before dark?

But Madison is quick to assist me.

“I’ll come to your house. After all you are doing me the favor,” I say.

“No, no,” she replies. “It’s dark. I don’t want you to fall on the ice. I’ll be there as soon as I get my shoes on.”

She arrives. And so does her husband, Nathan. He brings an electric sander—to get to the source of the problem, the offending basement railing.

I wish I had dressed more appropriately, at least something better than an out-of-season green Christmas sweatshirt and gray long johns. But, Madison and Nathan don’t act as if they notice.

Unexpected gifts are often the best. Nathan smooths the railing and Madison removes the splinter with a steady hand. I barely feel a pinch.

Thanks, to both of you. I feel blessed for hours after you leave. Kindness has a way of lingering.

kindness is earth angel

Read Full Post »

Sunglasses and a Side-trip to Walmart

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on February 10, 2016| 4 Comments »

There is an abiding beauty which may be appreciated by those who will see things as they are and who will ask for no reward except to see. (Vera Brittain)

I rarely shop at Walmart. I believe employee working conditions could be much better. However, I have been unable to locate sunglasses that fit over the top of prescription glasses. Easy on, easy off. Changing to a tinted pair of prescription glasses while driving is distracting. And I’m not an online shopper. I remember that Walmart carries the glasses. As the last choice, I decide to buy only what I need, and then leave.

The greeter inside the front door frowns at me. I said hello first. I’m reasonably certain I did not come in wearing an attitude.

Then she asks, “Do you have a return?”

I look down at the reusable bag in my hand. “Oh, no! Just doing my small part in saving the environment.”

She nods as if she hears my words, but still believes I’m a space alien.

The trip is successful and I am ready to leave within minutes.

“Have a nice day,” I call to the greeter as I leave.

She stares at me and I wonder if she is considering calling security. But, the short walk to my car is without incident. Perhaps I am reading suspicion into a place where it doesn’t belong. Besides, my spirit was positive enough to purchase sunglasses on a day when gray, snow, ice, and gloom fill the sky. The weather forecast for the rest of the week doesn’t say much about sun. I’m thinking ahead. In a good way.

In the meantime my new sunglasses replace the ones I lost at a park. Lost, found, rediscovered. A continuous process. The snow-covered branches will shine when the sun comes out. Eventually. But the trees are beautiful now. It just takes a discerning eye to see beyond the obvious—an obvious that isn’t necessarily as clear as I think it is.

Perhaps most of us see through tinted lenses, not to protect us from glare, but to keep us inside our own narrow perceptions. The goal is to see things as they are and go with the moment…someday…I’m still working on it.

sunglasses

Read Full Post »

Celebrating Flaws?

Posted in inspiration, positive thinking, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 3, 2016| 1 Comment »

We are flawed creatures, all of us. Some of us think that means we should fix our flaws. But get rid of my flaws and there would be no one left. (Sarah Vowell)

Sarah Vowell has written six nonfiction historical books, including Lafayette in the Somewhat United States and Unfamiliar Fishes. She is an actress. I’ve seen her interviewed and been mesmerized by her wit. Therefore, I read the last sentence—several times. “But get rid of my flaws and there would be no one left.” Should that read But get rid of flaws and there would be no one left? Or should it be, But get rid of my flaws and I would not be?

Then again, perhaps Ms. Vowell is onto something. Each individual is a part of the whole. We share flaws the way we share common emotional existence. No one has it all. Perhaps that is why we were designed to be social beings. I am part of the whole. The whole is part of me. Or, she could be saying that without flaws she is only a shell with no one inside. It’s a question for my grammar-freak friends.

Today gray clouds fill the sky, but an almost circular hole opens and lets the blue peek through. By the time I have driven to my destination the sun has won. For now. The TV news loves to forecast sensationalism and doom. Unusually warm winter temperatures should fight with cold air soon, giving birth to storms.

And I realize that storms inside me want to rise, too. They want to make a big fuss about recent mistakes, failures that feel larger and higher than the clouds. Yet, those mistakes don’t rise to more than my four-foot-eleven height off the ground.

Then four-year-old Dakota rushes into our house. His huge brown eyes let me know he is happy to be here. Little people don’t hide their feelings. He asks why at least a thousand times. “Why isn’t your hair long like my mommy’s?” “Why isn’t Jay back from the YMCA yet?” When he heard that I was going for physical therapy for my neck he wanted to know, “Are they going to take your neck off?”

Fortunately that answer was a simple no. I smile at his innocence. He doesn’t know how small he is yet, how much growing he needs to do before he is an adult. The statement, in an hour, has as much meaning to him as the unfathomable size of the universe has for me. I can’t grasp it. Nor will I ever comprehend more than theory.

Yet, none of the people I love are perfect. If they were I would have nothing in common with them. So, I thank Sarah Vowell for her honesty, and look at my flaws with a tad more reverence.

mistakes The Optiism Revolution

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »