Re-frame. If That Doesn't Work, Distract!

Oh my goodness, she's back at her blog!  That's what I IMAGINE my readers are saying when this post comes up on their blogroll. Again, I IMAGINE that I actually am on your blogroll and if I am, that you are actually bothering to read past word one. Because I abandoned you. Ran off with the paper boy! Which I most certainly did not because we do not take the paper here in our house and if we did, the paper boy would be more than a half-century younger than me and besides the fact that he would be horrified at the very thought of running away with Grandma, well it would be just so not right! Okay. Truth. I left you for a novel. A half-written novel about a priest and a girl and his best friend. And his grandma. Grandma is my heroine. So that's where I've been.

But it's that last day of the year. The last chapter in the book of 2014 and want need to write about something other than my young priest and his grandma. I want to tell you about my New Year's Resolution.  Wait! I know most folks turn their noses up at resolutions. They say, "It just set's me up for failure." They get haughty and say, "I PREFER to live in the moment."  Which to my way of thinking is a lot like me saying, "No, I don't want to play volleyball with you. I'd rather play scrabble." Which is my way of saying, "I suck at sports and I don't want do them because I get humiliated when I try to hit the ball and wind up on my rear with my left leg  sprawled over my right shoulder and a big fat bruise on my tush. And worse than that; you will laugh at me and I HATE being laughed at because though I intellectually understand that everybody falls down and it's no big deal; emotionally I really think that I am the worst klutz on the planet and that EVERYBODY else is more agile than me. So leave me alone with my scrabble game...OKAY?"

 

We all have ways of protecting ourselves, don't we? Just humor me here and continue reading. You don't have to make a resolution OR play volleyball. Promise.

 

So my resolution. I didn't make it up. It came to me. The same way that the priest and the girl came to me. Writers call that their muse. Christians call it the Holy Spirit. I just know that this idea was foisted upon me from another person and place. My intuition calls him God. Sometimes He talks directly to me. Often He uses people. Like Doctor Patterson.

 

 "You need to get neurotic about stretching!" said the good doctor on my last visit when I asked him to exorcise a demon called plantar fasciitis from my foot and whined about my aching hips. And shoulders. And neck. Maybe I'm being a bit touchy here, but  I'm convinced he used the word 'neurotic' on purpose. He must think I'm a bundle of neuroses. Just because I perseverate about every little ache, about people making fun of me when I play volleyball, about what I may have said to offend the grocery clerk to make her viciously slam my apples on the counter-bruising them beyond recognition, about my relationship with my mother (she's deceased), about whether the dog will get sick and die from eating fake plants and should I even have fake plants because of this; even though real ones make me sneeze...so am I preferring the dog to myself...and is this emotionally healthy??? Or maybe I'm preferring myself to the dog by having fake plants to keep me from sneezing. I don't know. It's all so confusing. 

 

The inside of my brain has more twists and turns than a Six Flags amusement park.

 

So I take his advise. Order some books because that's what I do when I'm about to embark on a new neurosis. "Flexibility Over Fifty, " and  "Age Defying Fitness." I read them cover to cover then began. I was in the middle of the inner thigh stretch; straddling a folding chair in a very unlady-like position when God spoke to me. This time directly.

 

"Make flexibility your New Year's Resolution." He said. 

 

"I AM. I ALREADY HAVE!" I answer, making sure my knees and toes are out to the side at a precisely 45-degree angle and gently pushing the cellulite on my inner thigh--which pushes back not-so-gently.

 

"Physically AND Emotionally," was the response.

 

"Oh. What would that entail?" I wonder.

 

So I Googled emotional flexibility and read a bunch of clinical studies that are probably less interesting than this blog...were it possible. But two words stood out in the studies. Like a Budweiser neon sign to an alcoholic. RE-FRAME. Apparently that's what  emotionally healthy people do when faced with minor stressors. And DISTRACT. That's what they do with the big ones. Distract themselves. Because they can't do anything else.

 

Wow! So people actually do that and it's not considered self-delusion and denial? Who knew?

 

So I'm trying it. Yesterday I took the stretching thing a bit too far. Physically speaking. My overdone neck stretches left me stuck--kinda like when you get the jelly-jar  lid off-kilter and now you can't unscrew it or turn it in either direction. So I spent the morning lying in the bathtub with Epsom Salts and popping as many Advil as allowable by state law. (Which the OLD me might perseverate about--wondering if I'm giving myself Advil-induced-bleeding ulcers.) But NOT THIS TIME! I CAN RE-FRAME. AND IF THAT DOESN'T WORK I CAN DISTRACT!  So I told myself that the pain was temporary and would be better tomorrow. I played my favorite Pandora station and put votive candles all around the tub while I soaked. (the battery operated kind, because the real ones make me stuffy.) I only worried for a moment about the possibility of the dog knocking the candles into the tub, and reasoned that battery operated candles wouldn't actually electrocute me like 110 volts would...would they? Naw! "Distract yourself from that thought! I told myself. "Read a book while you soak. A pleasant book..."

 

Today my neck is much better. I was able to look both ways when I crossed the street to get the mail. I think I may be onto something here. Be Flexible. Re-frame. Distract. My new mantra for 2015. Who knows? Maybe I'll get flexible enough to play volleyball!

 

Whoa there! Baby steps. First the neck. Then the hips. Then maybe I'll think about volleyball. Or maybe I'll just distract myself with Scrabble while others play...

 

Happy New Year!  Whether you resolve to or not; may 2015 be very best chapter of your life so far!

 

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A List for the New Year

It's simply a list, not a goal or resolution. I won't put it on the fridge or program my cellphone to remind me. We're way beyond that; me and my psyche. I know that it's possible, even likely that there will be days I will forget. I'll get all worked up about someone or something in my life that doesn't pan out the way I wanted...I'll fuss and fume...forget to pray; I do that a lot. Still, it's just a list. A reminder; a yellow string tied around my pinkie or a post-it in my pocket. Because self-condemnation for failed goals is not where I'm at. It's like my attitude about flossing. I've decided to floss more often than not. Which means I usually do. If I'm exhausted and all I can manage is to get my p.j.s on and fall into bed some nights--it's really OK that I didn't floss. There are no flossing police. And there are no list police.

The List

Talk to God. Simple, to-the-point, honest, informal conversations. Not always asking for stuff. Sometimes--usually-- just saying "Gee, thanks!" These little chats with Jesus can happen anytime, anyplace...but a simple acknowledgement that He's my BFF would be nice everyday, I think. Of course there will be the times when I show up with REALLY BIG problems. Which might call for long-winded pleas and even some whining. I think He's used to that. And I don't think He minds at all.

Read a few verses daily. Not chapters or books. Verses. In my earlier years as a Christian, I devoured huge quantities of scripture every day. Not bragging, but I know my Bible. This year I'm going for quality. Read something. Remember it. Apply it to my day.

Trust. This is a big monstrous, issue for me. Trust is the antithesis to anxiety-- and anxiety is something I'm more familiar with that I'd like to admit.  It's not just God I need to trust...that's almost the easy part. It's trusting the doctor, my friends, my neighbor's dog, my family, the President, Congress, the person who puts the chili into the cans. (We got some bad canned chili this year so I've developed a suspicion of all canned foods. Now I've switched to frozen whenever possible. But really, where does all of this vigilance end?)  It's believing that people are competent, or at least trying to be. That they are acting from best intentions. That they love me; or at least like me. That the chili people are not trying to kill me. This might be easy for some, but it's a challenge for me. I think know that sometimes we (I'm including you all in this category to make myself feel better) take pride in thinking we are smarter, more able, more diligent than others--to the point that we find ourselves second guessing everything...even God. I don't want to do that anymore.

Write. Gracefully. Skillfully. Everyday.

Walk. I don't mean just march up and down the street or mindlessly walk on a treadmill while watching the news on TV like some hamster spinning on a wheel. I mean walk. Feel fresh air filling my lungs and my legs getting stronger with each step. Enjoying the neighbor's pussy-willow tree in every season and stopping to cheer as the little neighbor boy wobbles down the street on his new bike. Noticing cloud formations and flying geese and airplanes buzzing overhead. Thankful for the strength to be out and about when others are housebound and infirmed.

Stretch. I've been learning the hard way that stretching, when you are approaching sixty, must precede and follow walking. And I'm trusting that stretching at this time of my life will pay off handsomely in my seventies and beyond. I hope someday to be an active octogenarian with good balance and supple muscles. (Wow, did you see that...I'm trusting! It's like riding a bike without someone holding on to the back of the seat! Woo-hoo!)

Celebrate.  There's so much negativity in this old world. I think this year I'd like to celebrate everything. I mean like Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day; Fridays and New Moons. I want to celebrate small victories. Pat myself on the back and say "Way to go, Deb...you wrote a page today!" Or, "Awesome job, honey! You got all the moss off the roof! Let's go down to the coffee shop and celebrate!" There are so many things to be pleased about. Paid-off bills. A good physical. The birth of a new family member, crocus blooming, and a nice hot shower after gardening. The list is endless. And yet, for me, so often things go by un-noticed because they seem commonplace. But isn't that where joy resides, in the commonplace? I think so.

So that's it. My list.

 

Talk to God.

 Read a few verses daily.

 Trust.

Write.

Walk.

Stretch. 

Celebrate.

 

I plan to do them more often than not.

 

BTW...If you see me walking around the neighborhood...wave.

 

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Encouraging Thoughts for the New Year

My meditation for this last day of 2012 was from Psalm 68:19. It popped into my head during my quiet time this morning. In the King James version (the version I'd memorized) it says...

Blessed be the Lord, who daily loadeth us with benefits, even the God of our salvation. Selah.

I've always loved this verse; it brought pictures to my mind of God loading my life with good things--much in the same way that I load the back of my Jeep up with groceries at the market. So I decided to research further and see what these 'benefits' might be. I checked my parallel Bible to see how the verse reads in other translations. I must admit, at first I was a little disappointed. (For you scholars out there...when the KJV Bible italicizes words, you know that the italicized words were added by the translators for clarification and were not a part of the original Hebrew or Greek text. This is why its good to study scripture in many translations.) The Amplified translation more correctly reads...

Blessed be the Lord, Who bears our burdens and carries us day by day, even the God Who is our salvation. Pause and calmly think about that!

What!!! No backing my Jeep  up to Heaven's back door and loading it up with blessings???  I was a crestfallen.

The Still Small Voice said, "No, something infinitely better. I have committed to be in your life each and every day. To carry you through whatever circumstance you are in, and to shoulder the burden of your human limitations for you."

Wow! I decided to take the Psalmist's advice and pause to calmly think about that! (That's what 'selah' means.) It means that on the brink of a brand New Year, I (and you) can expect God's abiding presence in all 365 days of 2013. It means that when I'm troubled or worried or distressed, He promises to carry the load for me. It means quite simply that-- He's got my back! Your's too, if you'll accept it.

And that, my dear ones, is why I can say to you "Happy, Happy New Year!"

Go forward confidently friends...You are so very blessed!

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Simple Pleasures in January

The golden amber hues of autumn have faded; and the cranberry-red and pine-colored adornments of Christmas are neatly stored in boxes, all sealed with packing tape and stacked out in the garage for another year.

It's January-- time for baby-soft pink sweaters and fresh-white cotton shirts. It's time to clear the house of needless clutter; out with the old-in with the new. Time for crafting Valentines of paper doilies and coffee filters, and heirloom-seed shopping at Baker Creek http://rareseeds.com/. A new calendar would be nice, perhaps this one from Barnes and Noble. (Never buy a calendar before January--unless you have money to burn!)



http://www.auntpeaches.com/2011/01/love-letter-to-coffee-filters.html
Go visit Aunt Peaches for this and other pretty craft projects

Today we took Baron to obedience school in the pouring rain. There were 3 dogs present, Baron, our ebony-black lab, Casey a talkative Alaskan Malemute, and Klein the big German Shepherd. Beautiful dogs, all of them...poster-boys for their breed. We were working on the 'down' command today, which wasn't very popular with our poochies, given the dampness of the ground. But they all behaved like champs!

After class and a steaming hot shower, I bid doggy and football-watching hubby adieu, hopped into the Jeep, cranked up the radio, and drove to town... all by myself. Isn't it a luxury to go shopping all alone sometimes? It is for me. I treated myself to a new sweater (yep, it's a soft pink) and a crisp white blouse. I think that every woman should have a new white blouse once a year. It should be an annual event. Like going to have the teeth cleaned, or the yearly mammogram--but way more enjoyable! Put it on your new Simplicity calendar!

My all-time favorite outfit includes a classic white blouse with faded Levis, brown leather loafers or boots (or tennies when it's warm), all topped off with a pretty watch and hoop earrings...Heaven!

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