WORDS TO LIVE BY

Some people say trust is earned; others think trust is unconditional until proven otherwise. Either way, it’s a risky proposition:

We trust oncoming traffic will stay in their lane.
We trust drivers will stop at a red light.
We trust the doctor knows what’s wrong.
We trust the medicine will cure us.
We trust the kids are safe at school.
We trust others know right from wrong.
We trust the truth will set us free.

PSA: Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. If you have yet to purchase flowers, cards, and candies, the clock is ticking. Thank goodness for Amazon Prime.

Whether you have a Valentine or not, loving yourself may be the best present to give or receive. Hallmark holidays have a way of reminding me of important gifts I may have forgotten:

1. All I have to be grateful for and don’t always appreciate,
2. How comparison is the thief of joy.

Bonnie Raitt has a line in her song, Nick of Time, “Those lines are pretty hard to take when they’re staring back at you.” It’s so easy to focus on the wrinkles without acknowledging how blessed I am to have lived long enough to have them.

I could, not should (no shoulding on yourself), lose a few pounds but rather than concentrating on what isn’t, I’m grateful for what is. I don’t have washboard abs but I do have 2 beautiful children who were born via C-section. No toned tummy will ever compare to the joy they bring to my life.

There are days I’m up at 6AM to run, and days I’m still in my jammies at 4PM – it’s called balance. The fact that I have the freedom to choose is not taken for granted. I started working before I graduated from high school, and I worked for the next 55 years. In fact, I’m still working, but on my schedule in between days reserved for family, friends, and fun. I didn’t always have that kind of flexibility as a single mom, part-time student, and full-time employee. If you’re in the throes of raising kids, working 8-5, maintaining a household, and coaching the soccer team, take heart. It may feel like forever, but it’s over in the blink of an eye. In the meantime, ask for help and please take a break every once in a while – it’s not self-ish, it’s self-love.

I find it interesting how often infancy and adulthood mirror each other. If you’ve survived the experience of an infant that doesn’t sleep through the night or nap during the day, you know the feeling when, as an adult, sleep escapes you. As the parent of a nocturnal munchkin, you can probably recall going through the day in a fog. Thoughts of, “Where am I? Who am I? For the love of all things holy, PLEASE go to sleep.”

Adult insomnia hits much the same way. There are few things more daunting than realizing it’s 11 pm, then 2 am, then 4:30 am, and you are the only person in the entire universe still awake. If you’ve ever lived with a teenager, you know sleep deprivation improves with age. Who was it that said, ‘Many of life’s greatest pleasures are wasted on the young?’

I rarely struggle with sleep issues. In fact, my ex-husband used to say my tombstone would read, “Here lies Denise. She got plenty of sleep.” Hence the “ex.” However, so many people I know take a plethora of pharmaceuticals to resolve their sleeplessness. Wouldn’t it be great if the same remedies that comfort babies would work for adults? Who wouldn’t love a blankie, a lullaby, and a little whiskey on their gums?

I wish I knew the secret to falling asleep and staying asleep. I would definitely bottle it and become a gazillionnaire. In the meantime, take heart. This too shall pass, you just might be too tired to notice.

I have a Janna plant. The scientific name of the plant is unknown to me. All I know is that I have a very special plant named Janna.

Janna the plant was given to me by one of my favorite patients. It’s no coincidence that her name was Janna, too. Janna was one of the bravest, most resilient, formidable women I’ve ever met. She had an irreverent sense of humor I adored, and a no bs approach to life I respected. She was the perfect combination of nerves of steel and a heart of gold (with a dash of sass for good measure).

The last time I visited Janna, she proudly led me to her sunroom to meet her impressive botany collection. Some plants reached the ceiling, others cascaded to the floor. All of them were healthy and strong and thriving – the irony was heartbreaking.

As we prepared to say our goodbyes, Janna gave me the treasured gift of a start from one of her plants. Let me just say, she was risking a lot by trusting I could keep Janna the plant alive and well. I was equal parts honored and terrified.

Janna has been gone almost seven years; I think of her often. I’m proud to say, Janna the plant has flourished during that time from a 3” plastic container on the kitchen windowsill to her beautiful new home in a red, 3’ tall ceramic planter that adorns my living room.

That tricky Janna knew just what she was doing when she gave me a gift that reminds me of her on the daily – like I would have ever forgotten one of my favorite patients.

My word for 2025 is Intentional. It’s going to be a big ask.

In no particular order:

I want to be intentional about how I spend my time and with whom.

I want to be intentional about the food I put in my mouth and the words that come out. (If you know me, you know I occasionally speak first and think later; not a great recipe to win friends and influence people.)

I want to be intentional about healthy living: mind, body, and soul.

I want to be intentional about the examples I set for my grandsons. They are both teenagers who are currently willing to accept my suggestions about driving, college, and life in general, but I know the clock is tickin’.

I want to be intentional about my thoughts and actions. I saw a meme: “Ask yourself if what you’re doing today is getting you closer to where you want to be tomorrow.”

I also saw another meme: “You can’t be disappointed in the results you didn’t get from the work you didn’t do.”

Intentional.

What’s your word?

It’s been a minute since I published my last blog, actually six months, but who’s counting?

As most of you know, I had a stint in the big house in June (hospital, not prison), and it’s taken a bit to regain my mojo. Six months is a long time, but it has been time well spent. During those 180 days, I evaluated my priorities and made some life-changing decisions.

After eight years of leading guided meditation walks at the Denver Botanic Garden, I resigned, kind of. They have an annex much closer to my house, and I’m going to do a four-week children’s meditation series there in June. That excites me. Driving downtown Denver at 5pm eleven months a year for eight years, not so much.

My private grief counseling practice is going well, however, I had to make some adjustments there, too. For a while, I was available 8 hours a day, 5 days a week – no time for fun or frolicking. (I’m not sure I actually frolic but I like the sound of it!) It was obvious another adjustment was needed. I now schedule clients Tuesday through Thursday. The schedule change makes for a busy few days, but it also allows for time to do the things I enjoy with family and friends.

This blog even became a source of stress. I started writing it 4 years ago just because I love creative writing and it was fun. Eventually, I made it a task that would weigh heavy on my mind if I didn’t have a topic to share every Friday. Keep in mind, I wasn’t getting paid to write and it was something I wanted to do, not had to do. So here’s the deal going forward: If I have something to say, I will. Otherwise, as my friend, Helen, would say, “Keep calm and carry on.”

I could go on but I’m sure you get the picture. As I have a tendency to do, I realized I had taken things I used to do for pleasure and made them tasks I dreaded. I’m good at that! I also recognized I was feeling pressure to do things no one else was expecting but me. Been there? Done that?

I’m not a resolution person but there are a few things that excite me about 2025:

Clean slate                                                  Fresh start                                         More time to frolic.

I tried to watch the debate this week. I made it to the first break. By that time, I was so disgusted by the behavior, rudeness, and disregard for common courtesy, I turned off the television and spent time praying.

I want to be an informed voter. I want to understand the issues. I want to make an educated decision. I also want truth, fairness and decency. Is that too much to ask? I am searching for resources that will present information without bias. It’s so discouraging to fact check a statement from one source then see it disputed on another. Where is the truth? If you know of a reliable, unbiased, factual resource, please let me know.

I will never, ever run for public office but I would love the chance to moderate a debate. My suggestion would be rather than muting the microphones, tasers would be used when speakers do not honor the agreed upon time limits. Now that’s something that would be worth watching!

There is a gentleman in our neighborhood that operates a motorized wheelchair using a mouthpiece. I see him all around town. I’ve noticed him watching the golfers at our local club, I’ve seen him at music venues with his wife, and he spends hours tooling around on our many bike/running paths. On days when it’s bloody hot, I see him resting under a shade tree for some relief, but he’s out there.

I’ve also been watching the Paralympics. Those women and men are amazing. Not only are they tremendous athletes, they succeed in spite of their differently-abled bodies.

I tell you all this because I am embarrassed. When the weather is blistering hot, I don’t run. I try to get outside before the heat sets in, but if I’m too late, I’m out. I may go for a short walk, but only because my pup requires it. (Even she doesn’t like the heat.) Did I mention there are two gyms within walking distance of my home, and a friend has a dreadmill in her basement that she offers carte blanche? I really have no excuse.

On days when I am reminded how challenging life can be for some people, I count my blessings and thank the Lord for my good health and able body. I appreciate all I’ve been given, but evidently not enough to get my sorry butt off the couch and out the door. Maybe when it’s cooler!

I’m thrilled with the newfound popularity of e-bikes; it’s great seeing my generation enjoying the great outdoors. That said, some riders must not have learned the cycling rules of the road when they were younger:

When passing another cyclist, runner, or walker, it is customary and courteous to announce, “On your left” or “On your right” which ever applies.

That is all!

Breathing is a natural instinct each of us performs approximately 22,000 times a day (according to Ms. Google). It’s also something we rarely think about; it’s just part of living. For some time now, I’ve been acutely aware of breathing. During grief counseling sessions, I observe how clients are breathing. Are their breaths deep and cleansing or shallow and negligible? Sometimes I wonder if they are breathing at all.

My meditation practice has taught me the benefits of diaphragm breathing. When we breathe deeply through our nose for 3 counts, hold the breath for three counts, then exhale through our mouth for three counts, we are diaphragm breathing. It’s not rocket science, but the benefits are astronomical.

Diaphragm breathing provides a reset of our emotions:

Feeling angry, breathe.
Feeling afraid, breathe.
Feeling sad, breathe.
Feeling hurt, breathe.
Feeling misunderstood, breathe.
Feeling confused, breathe.
Feeling exhausted, breathe.
Feeling hopeless, breathe.

Breathing can provide rest and relief. It’s like a magic elixir that’s light as a feather but powerful beyond measure. The next time you are at a stand-still, crossroad, or the end of your rope, try breathing.