Absence of Pressure

When I"m counseling clients I find I"m often counseling myself; many of the issues being discussed are either things I've also experienced or are thinking about myself.

Lately I've been spending precious brain cells thinking about 'absence of pressure'.  How someone (meaning me) reacts when there's an absence of pressure in their life.

We have all longed for peace and quiet while in the midst of great stress; how we'll just take a nap or a vacation or a Xanax...

But what do we do when the pressure/stress/crisis is over?  After the nap, etc. etc.

Do we move forward in our lives, stretching ourselves and investing in positive activities, relationships and experiences?

Or do we...do nothing. 

I've begun to accept that I tend to be a do-nothing-er.  I have good intentions (during the pressure).  Once this is over I'm going to:

Visit the sick and elderly
Invite all my neighbors to church
Write the soldiers serving overseas
Volunteer
Increase my client load by marketing more effectively
Write another book
More public speaking (Toastmaster's?)
Invest more in my siblings, siblings-in-law, their spouses and children
Spend more quality time with my parents

But ashamedly, I admit there's little pressure and I've done none of the things listed above.

As I continue to pray and determine which comes first (the CHICKEN!) let me challenge you to do the same. 

I'm not referring to New Years' resolutions or personal goals here.  I'm talking about how to move forward in life with a useful attitude. Fully engaged.  Pushing yourself to talk to those you love on the phone.  Write an email. Get out of your zombie zone and live.

Gotta go now.  My brain cells are warming up and are bugging me to be taken out for a spin.

Thanksgiving is Relative

Hey Gang!

Is it November already?  I've heard that life is like a roll of toilet paper- the closer you get to the end of the roll the faster it goes. That's certainly true with me lately.  I just got my holiday stuff from last year put away.

I think it's important to acknowledge Thanksgiving and take a moment to appreciate what God has done for us.  According to my clients, it can also be a time of stress stress stress as relatives, far and near, get together to enjoy the holiday.

'Enjoy' is relative, since what one person likes, another person can find totally cringe worthy(like cranberries).  At any rate, having a house full of humanity for any amount of time can be a nerve twister. 

My suggestion may be to stuff them full of turkey (or tofurkey for the health conscious) and let them sleep it off in front of the tv. Watching football, or golf.  Or the first showing of 'It's a Wonderful Life.'

I'm reminded of relative interactions in the past.  The time my turkey wasn't done until about 3 hours AFTER we'd already waited an extra hour to eat.  Believe you me, people get remarkably testy when they're hungry.  Our solution was to eat the side and the pie and have turkey for dessert.  It worked and digested the same.

And made us nap longer.

I also remember why we no longer allow dear daughter Kari to pray for our meals.  Ever.  She takes total control of the limelight, thinking it's funny to hold us captive with her tedious and meandering prayer.

"Lord, I'd like to thank you for...
This house, the universe, the oxygen, for technology, for my pink slippers, the missionaries, my brother Ryan, this food (especially the corn), my friends, our dog, electricity..."

When we'd interrupt her to say "Amen" she'd put on this wounded face and scold us:

"Mom, I can't believe you'd tell to stop praying." And she'd continue.

After this occuring several times I could sense the turkey, mashed potatoes, and yams were getting cold.  A few more prayers and I could envision the jello melting and the green bean casserole coagulating.  I desperately considered furtively loading everyone's place while she continued in prayer. 

Seriously, I think the girl took 10+ minutes to pray.

I hope the Lord wasn't insulted by my impatience.  I like to think even HE was wishing she'd end it.

So when I say Thanksgiving is relative, I am referring to the behaviors that become irritating (except with MY family...)when many diverse personalities are gathered together to have a great time and celebrate blessings. 

I think we need to focus more on WHY we are gathering in the first place and give thanks for that.

And for the comfort that, for the most part, relatives will eventually go home.

Reasons and Excuses

I've been noticing lately how easily we fall into a category and use it for an excuse.

For instance, I looked up many of the labels I've been guilty of giving myself. I'm a:

Leo
Sanguine
Otter
Golden Retriever
Left-Handed
Extravert
Intuitive/Feeler
Shepherd/Encourager
Last Born but only child
German/Swedish
Born Again believer

Wow.  I just read over the list and I should be very impressed with myself!

However, many of these descriptors can be used as a shield when we feel threatened to change.

"I act this way because I'm an otter."  "I can't be quiet because I'm an extravert."  "I'm a clown because I'm last born but treat me respectfully because I'm an intuitive/feeler."  "I'm goofy because I'm left-handed."
"I'm bossy because I'm a Leo."

This seems to be our reason (read-excuse) to blame others for not getting along with us!
No acceptance of our own attitudes or vanities or pride. 

Haven't you done this?  I know I have. 

I can't tell you the relief I have felt when some label excused my poor behavior.  It isn't me being a jerk;
it's my temperment, horoscope, birth order, Myers-Briggs results, spiritual gift, nationality.

BUT...

Using those labels to rationalize why we do what we do says we are helpless.  Victims to our circumstances.
Is that how we are to live?

I'd like to suggest we all ignore those labels.  Instead, let's dig our heels in when tempted to explain away why we are being pig-headed or fearful or controlling.  Let's turn our backs on accepting those excuses from our friends and family members too.

I'd like to think that God works in our lives and hearts IN SPITE OF those labels that have hindered us for so long.  He wants us to cast off the 'old man' and allow Him to give us a new life.

I love that part but it assumes we take responsibility for our reasons and excuses.

Here are some labels I'd love to embrace instead:

Loved,
Protected
Shielded
Empowered through His grace
Healed
Rescued
Lifted up

and best of all,

FORGIVEN

You're HOW Old???

Greetings from Ye Olde Funny Farm!

I just recently celebrated yet another birthday and I've made several observations:


You know you're getting old when:


Your friends admire your new orthopedic shoes

Even teenagers open the door for you

Waitresses automatically show you the back of the menu

When clothes shopping you find yourself saying, "It looks comfortable."

When you still have your favorite songs on cassette

Your adult children search your closet for the retro party they're throwing.

You can pretend you can't hear someone and they believe you

You find yourself comparing yourself to a peer and wondering if you look as old as they do

You realize a cute male model in a store looks like your grandson

When someone says your white hair looks good on YOU but THEY'D look too old

You see a photo of yourself from behind and you think it's your elderly aunt

Facebook pictures of your old high school friends show they've gotten older

You make fun of an old lady not dressing for her age and realize you're wearing the same shirt

While car shopping you skip over the red sports car in favor of the 4 door with more comfortable seats and is easier to get in and out of.

Those large print books and magazines at the library aren't funny anymore (and you find yourself cussing that the font size on your cell phone is miniscule)

and finally,

You know you're getting older when letting your hair go gray and you can't decide if you're embracing your age or giving up.


So my friends, thanks for the well wishes on my birthday and may I have many more!

See you later;I'm going over to a friend's house and steal her walking cane.

You're Hot, No, I'M Hot!

Our neck of the woods has been experiencing a serious heat wave these last few weeks. It's been a real challenge to adapt to the temperature.

For instance, I found out the hard way that you really shouldn't hide your Hershey bars underneath the car seat until at least September.

It's SO hot that instead of offering my clients a bottle of cold water, I offer them a teabag.

It's so hot the birds are knocking on my windows asking for ice cubes in the birdbath.

It's so hot my hubby suggested we buy some silk plants to stick in our garden to replace what used to be lush greenery.

It's so hot that yesterday I noticed that my elbows were sweating (really).

It's so hot you can't wear rubber-soled shoes because they melt on asphalt.

It's so hot the local swimming pool is being advertised as a jacuzzi.

It's so hot no one wants to be within 3 feet of anyone- due not only to the proximity but also the rotting smell of dead or dying deodorant.

It's so hot that restaurant patrons won't slide across vinyl booth seats in shorts due to the ensuing profanity; who knew how well vinyl can adhere to human skin?

It's so hot I get offended when I have to leave the house and realize my dog and cat are still in the house enjoying the air conditioning.

It's so hot that ice cream cones are served with straws.

Wait. I've got more.

It's so hot that wearing metal-rimmed sunglasses put you at risk for 2nd degree burns.

Pierced earrings are like campfire marshmallow forks.

It's so hot that you have to wear oven mitts to open the car door.


Have I given you the idea that it's very hot?

Being a Pundit

When you read the title of this post I bet you thought,

"What on EARTH is a pundit?"

The Free Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines a pundit as:

A person who gives opinions in an authoritative manner usually through the mass media: critic.

Those of you who are on Facebook have encountered a pundit; you know, those who opine about politics, religion, finances...

It seems like most folks who have access to any form of social media feel they know more than most when it comes to opinions. No matter if these people have any experience or education in these particular areas; they feel they have the right to express themselves freely (they often cite the Constitution as if they helped write it).

Personally, I get irritated when I'm reading a pleasant little feel-good article about someones' pet llama who rescues them from a burning building. Then when I scroll down to view the comments someone ALWAYS jumps in with a stupid job ad, a rude comment about a political party, or a nasty jab at someone elses' comments.

It makes me want to demand proof of their educational background. Are they political science graduates? Life-long politicians' kids? Are they stunningly slender due to a magic diet pill or doctors who've spent years learning about metabolism? Are they trained behaviorists who know all about llamas?

I tend to think most of the nasty ones are/were bullies in grade school.

But to be honest, I'm guilty of being a pundit myself. About lots of things. Without credibility to make me an expert.

I give my opinion about decorating. Clothing and hair. Whether the recipe needs more salt. Whether dear hubby should use a certain route when driving. Whether the preacher used enough Scripture in last weeks' sermon.

I get into trouble when I read up and study something, amass every bit of information about it, and never experience it myself. I could use my tendency to read cookbooks as a prime example.

For instance, I want to try to ski. Those of you who have read past blogs understand how foolish this desire is since I can't even stand on a flat, solid surface without falling down.

But I still want to try it. So I've read up on it, watched videos, talked about it to those who have skiied. You'd think I was an expert except for one thing.

I've never done it.

My credibility as a pundit crashes and burns on the subject of skiing.

Here's another example: Someone you know isn't living with integrity. They just can't seem to get it right. You know they need to align themselves with godly people, immerse themselves in church and study the Bible. You KNOW this is the right thing to do.

This knowledge should make you an expert/pundit except for one thing:

You haven't gone to church for months, don't know where your Bible is, and are more comfortable with the bar crowd than the church crowd.

Here's what I'm getting at:

If you want to be a pundit, you'd better make very sure you have action to back up your words. If you still want to expound and expand upon your opinion, DO something to make your words credible. Otherwise, keep your opinion/thoughts to yourself lest you become yet another voice that is all sound and no substance.

And that's my expert opinion.

Big Mistake-Big Forgiveness

I've got this puppy, see? His name is Teddy.

He's a floppy, clumsy, adorable mess of fur and slobber.

When I'm not looking he sneaks up to me and sits on my feet or lays down behind my chair. He doesn't like to be without his hoomans.

I'm humbled by his unwavering trust and pure joy in being with us.

Said humility was never so great as when housetraining this canine.

Teddy seemed to pick certain places to 'express himself.' Not one to be haphazard about his choice of pooping places, he would secretly secrete in a secret setting.

We tried the newfangled method of gently coaxing him outside and scolding him in love. We tried the sitting outside with him after a big meal and waiting for the 'end result.'

But no matter what we did, he still seemed to have this favorite spot to squat. Namely, under my desk in my home office. It was frustrating and I was sooo over this ball of cuteness thinking our carpet was his latrine.

And he always looked so innocent when I'd scold him; those big doggy eyes tried to melt my heart but I was unmoved...almost.

But one day I'd had enough. I found another jewel under the desk and decided to go all old school on the mutt.

I grabbed him by the collar, drug him into the office and rubbed his nose in the offending grossness. Then I pushed him outside to think about it for a while.

He was lucky I didn't ask him for an essay on the topic, "Why I shouldn't poop on Mommy's carpet."

So although I felt bad about the rough treatment I decided I'd done what I had to do. While Teddy was outside I went back to my office to continue working.

As I sat there, I noticed a strange sound and an even stranger aroma. I sniffed a sniff I'd hoped I'd never sniff again.

I was beyond mad. How stupid IS this dog? I slowly turned around to catch him in the act. With his pants down, as it were.

Except it weren't him.

It was our cat Shashe, who was obviously making a statement about us moving her litter box out to the garage. She looked at me and I looked at her.

And she ran.

But I felt sick. Not because of the offense; heck, I've had children and was no stranger to icky messes.

No, I felt sick because I had unjustly punished Teddy for what Shashe had done. I'd rubbed his nose in a substance that was not his, spanked him for it, yelled at him and pushed him outside.

I could barely look at him. How do you apologize to a dog? I mean, you can't take him out for a soda. You can't buy him an ipod or a skateboard. How could I make it up to him for being so unfair? I forced myself to walk outside to try to comfort Teddy, and to comfort myself.

He was looking at me. His head was cocked in curiousity and concern. For me.
As I walked up to him his tail began wagging, slowly at first, but then furously as he realized I was coming up to pet him and hold him.

I could see immediately that he held no grudges for being spanked. His thoughts and focus was on ME and how much fun he wanted to have with ME.
I knew right then I had experienced big forgiveness.

Let me challenge you with my story. Think about your hurt and anger when things don't go the way they should and you are treated unfairly. Try to consider that all the facts aren't revealed, that the truth will be discovered in time.

Oh,and never trust a cat.