WORDS TO LIVE BY

Why the aversion to using a blinker? Were you absent the day proper blinker usage was taught in drivers ed? Did the car salesman fail to point out the location of the blinker? Do you lack the strength to push the blinker up or down? (If so, bicep curls may be in order.) Have you forgotten how to use the blinker? (That’s a scary topic for another rant blog!)

Where I live, people either do not use their blinker at all, or use it at the exact moment they merge in front of another vehicle (and then slam on the brakes). Evidently using a blinker is not a high priority in Colorado. I am not a perfect driver by any means, but I cannot understand why using a blinker is so dang difficult.

And while we’re on the subject, let’s review stop light rules. Didn’t everyone learn the ditty:

Red means stop; Green means go; Yellow means go slow!

Nowhere in the song does it say, Red means continue through the intersection. 

Again, where I live, you can absolutely, positively count on one car going through the intersection after the light turns red. It is not unusual for another car to join in just for the fun of it. And, on an especially perilous day, three cars may parade through the intersection. I don’t get that either. Is their time more important? Don’t they mind endangering the lives of others? Do they own multiple vehicles so that when their car is in the body shop after causing an accident, it’s not a giant pain in the rear end?

Full disclosure, the other day, I rolled through a stop sign. I looked both ways and proceeded slowly through the intersection. A cyclist, who was nowhere near the intersection but observed the violation, yelled, “You rolled right through that stop sign. You’re supposed to STOP.” At first, I was offended; how dare he yell at me! Would he have yelled at a male driver? In the current era of road rage, such an outburst seemed pretty risky. However, as the day wore on and his tirade stayed with me, I had to admit, I did roll through the stop sign and I need to be more diligent about coming to a complete stop. And so, thank you, Mr. Bikeridingyeller, for the not-so-subtle but effective reminder to drive safely.

I have a friend who has the most beautiful hair; her hair is thick, curly, and coveted by all. She won the jackpot when hair was being bestowed by the Giver of Hair. I, on the other hand, must have been in the elbow line and ended up with the hair no one else wanted.

It’s not that I don’t have hair, it’s just that it has always been fine, thin, and straight. I’ve spent my children’s inheritance on hair products. My hairdresser and I have a deep and meaningful relationship; she gets me and my hair. Suffice it to say, no one ever wished they had my hair.

What’s been astonishing is the new crop of thick, curly hair I find other places. If only the hair on my head would grow like the hair on my chin! Each day, a new harvest of wiry, stubborn embellishments appears for the tweezing. I swear, one minute my chin is as smooth as butta, the next minute I look like Colonel Sanders.

A few years ago, I spent some time in the Big House (aka hospital). I was blessed to have family and friends there 24/7 to make sure things went as planned. What didn’t go as planned was their failure to attend to my chin hair. I am absolutely, positively sure we had a pact that we would always be there for each other and our chin hair. When I got home and looked in the mirror, I had a full beard. When said family and friends were reminded of our pledge, this was their reply, “Ya know, we were just trying to keep you alive. Your chin hair was the least of our worries.”

My advice: Appoint someone who doesn’t love you to be in charge of your chin hair.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the word meditation starts with m-e-d as in medicine. When I meditate, it feels like medicine, an alchemy that relieves stress, improves mood, and calms nerves.  However, unlike medicine, meditation does not require a prescription or a co-pay. You can take it whenever you want, as much as you want, with or without food, and there are no negative side effects reported in The Journal of the American Medical Association. My hope is that no one from the pharmaceutical industry reads this blog and decides to patent meditation!

Mentioning meditation elicits interesting replies:

“I’ve always wanted to try that but I’m too busy.”

““Who has time to sit on a cushion and stare at their belly button?”

Meditation doesn’t have to be sitting in the lotus position seeking enlightenment. Meditation may occur the moment you pause to feel sunlight on your skin, when you delight in a child’s laughter, when you refrain from negative thoughts about the jerk driver that didn’t use a blinker, when you allow tears to fall unapologetically while listening to a special song, when you take a moment to breathe deeply, when fear grabs ahold, or gratitude fills your heart. Meditation can occur on a nature walk or a walk around the block. Meditation is appropriate whenever, wherever, it’s a magic elixir that benefits all ages, is free of charge, and the side effects are a few moments of repose, reflection, and renewal.

Have you taken your medicine today?  

I love to run. I don’t run fast but I can run far. I run in every season and in all weather conditions except ice. (Even I’m not THAT crazy!) I have running clothes for -10° and 100°. Some of my fondest memories are runs with my daughter and other running friends.

I didn’t start running until I was 40. Although the rest of my body has gone to hell in a handbasket, my knees and back are holding up pretty well. I consider running my therapy. I solve my problems, say my prayers, and count my blessings while I run. I put in my airpods, turn up the music (don’t judge), and tune out the worries of the world.

I prefer to run streets rather than trails for several reasons. A long run on a trail can result in becoming pretty isolated and vulnerable; there might just be lions and tigers and bears, oh my! I run streets so I can enjoy landscapes and nature while still being close to civilization, sprinklers, and shade trees. There are other challenges: It’s hard to find fellow runners who like to run long, slow miles; it’s difficult to find people my age who like to run; and it can be hard to run in sweltering heat or bitter cold. Dogs off leash present a special kind of terror, but nothing compares to distracted or disgruntled drivers.

Most people who run streets actually do so on sidewalks or side streets. That said, if you see someone running on the actual street it is probably because the sidewalk is slanted or slick, neither of which bode well for runners. Stop signs, stop lights, and crosswalks also offer opportunities for disaster.

I appreciate drivers that switch lanes to give me extra room when sidewalks are snow-packed and I have to run on the shoulder, risking life and limb. Thumbs up to drivers that let me know they see me, and motion for me to proceed. Mad props to those who wait for me to run past the street they want to turn into, rather than turning in front of me. And finally, major kuddos to those who resist the urge to honk!

Over the years, many people have asked me to teach them how to run – a request that always makes me smile. It really is as simple as a good pair of shoes, then left foot, right foot. Start on a track. Walk 25 paces, run 25 paces. Slowly and gradually, shorten the walk and lengthen the run. Another approach is to run for time. Start out running 1 minute (or 20 seconds, you do you) and increase your time as your body becomes acclimated. When I started running, it took me a month to run a mile without stopping. I thought I was Usain Bolt!

My best running advice: Just Do It!

Each January 1^st, I choose a word or phrase to live by for the next 365 days. In 2020, I rather fortuitously chose the words “slow down.” I felt like I was living my life too frazzled and wanted more time to relax and renew. Be careful what you wish for! Little did I know slowing down would become a national mandate. Don’t get me wrong, I want no credit for that debacle.

My word for 2021 is curious.

When I’m feeling overwhelmed, I’m going to get curious about the emotions that are surfacing. When I’m tasked with a new responsibility, I’m going to get curious about what I need to learn to be successful. When someone says or does something that confuses or offends, rather than judging, I’m going to get curious about their motive or intention.

I like the idea of becoming curious. My natural tendency is to ask “Why?” which can seem accusatory or confrontational. I think becoming curious allows for deeper understanding, greater knowledge, and a more gracious approach to life.

What’s your word?

I don’t like to make New Year’s resolutions. The word resolution feels too heavy and burdensome. When I searched resolution in the dictionary, I found words like determination, doggedness, to make a serious decision. And therein lies the problem. I think resolutions can be detrimental to our sense of self and success. Do we really want to start a new year doggedly determined to do or not to do something? And what happens when we fall off the wagon, eat the cookie, miss a workout? What if illness, or divorce, or unemployment gets in the way? I’d like us to be kinder to ourselves as we start another trip around the sun.

I suggest making New Year’s aspirations. When I searched the word aspiration in the dictionary, I found the synonyms hope, desire, and wishes. Those words feel so much lighter. I’d like us to aspire to meet our goals. Let’s desire to leave room for life to interfere and interrupt. We can wish to give each other encouragement. When we have a bad day, let’s dust off and aspire to begin again. Let’s plan to extend kindness, graciousness, and hope to ourselves and to each other. That feels better to me!

To what do you aspire?

Should – now there’s a word that feels like a ton of bricks just landed on your shoulders. Should, and its evil step-sisters should not and should have get my vote for elimination from Webster’s next revision. I mean, really, who needs that kind of pressure?

I once went to a patient’s home who had this reminder stenciled on all four walls in her living room:  

Today, I will not should on myself.

The should word reminds me of the other sh word. Why do we do that to ourselves? Why can’t we just want to exercise, wish to spend more time with loved ones, plan to be more productive? Why do we use the most guilt-inducing term imaginable rather than a kinder, gentler version of a wish or desire? Why do we speak so harshly to ourselves when we wouldn’t speak like that to anyone else? Trust me, there are plenty of others who will gladly remind us of our faults and failings. Make sure you aren’t jumping on the shame/blame train – the price of admission is highly inflated.

Today, try not to should on yourself.

It’s funny how one letter can make such a difference. Case in point  – hurried vs. harried. The former means to rush; the latter means to be stressed as a result of demands and obligations. Although very different in meaning, we often find ourselves experiencing both simultaneously.

I think we’ve all found ourselves in a hurry. We lead busy lives. We have partners, parents, children and jobs, book clubs, workouts, and a To Do list a mile long. Some people seem to actually thrive on being hurried. The problem occurs when we’ve allotted 3 hours for a 5 hour task. Or, when one parent is doing the job of two. How often do you find yourself saying, “I need to go; I’m in a hurry?” Or, as my friend, Helen, would say, “I’ve got to skedaddle,” a phrase I find so endearing.

Being harried is another issue altogether. Being harried is usually a result of being overbooked, overcommitted, and overrun with responsibilities. When we’ve said “yes” to too many asks. Harried often results in being frazzled, impatient, and short-tempered. Harried is not a pretty picture.

I don’t think we can avoid an occasional hurried moment. It may help to be realistic about timeframes and to set reasonable expectations. Give yourself an extra 10 minutes to breathe, take a bathroom break, and reconnoiter. If you’re feeling especially generous, give yourself 10 minutes several times a day to take a deep breath and two bathroom breaks. Such indulgence!

You may not agree, but being harried seems optional. It takes practice to get comfortable saying, “No” or “Not this time.” The prize for being the person who always says “yes” is usually unrealistic demands, extra work, and increased stress. If that’s first place, I’ll gladly finish last.

Gotta skedaddle! 

I struggle with depression. To be specific, I have Seasonal Affective Disorder, a malady that is often associated with the winter months. Ironically, and appropriately, the acronym for this disorder is SAD.

For me, the onset of SAD coincides with the end of Daylight Savings Time. It’s as if a switch gets flipped the day the clocks ‘fall back,’ and SAD descends. We lose an hour of daylight and gain an hour of sleep – the last thing a depressed person needs. I’ve tried light therapy, medication, and essential oils. I’ve summoned all the positive thoughts I can imagine, read self-help books, listened to podcasts, and even tried tanning beds. Nada.

To make matters worse, this type of depression is often misunderstood and underappreciated. SAD is not obvious like a broken appendage or stitches. Most people do not understand depression and, due to society’s unrelenting emphasis on optimism, those who suffer from SAD usually suffer in silence. Telling people with SAD to ‘cheer up and look on the bright side’ is akin to asking them to change the color of their eyes. On the rare occasion when I’ve divulged my history of depression, the response is often something like, “Really? YOU?” I’m not sure what people think SAD looks like.

I’ve found meditation, exercise, and THC to be the most effective remedies. I also have a few cherished confidants who send “How’s my friend?” texts. They do not cajole or offer advice, they understand there is no magic wand.

In March, the end of SAD season coincided with the start of Covid-19. I felt like I’d been run over by a truck…that had a trailer hooked to it! As the months have elapsed, more and more people have begun talking about the mental health effects of the pandemic. Even Michelle Obama admitted to having a “low-grade depression.” I find comfort in her disclosure. It’s not that I want others to be depressed, it’s just that depression is so isolating. I feel less alone knowing others experience similar symptoms. My hope is that as more people admit to “low-grade depression,” they will bring a greater awareness to this dis-ease.

Maybe we are all in this together after all!

Snarky is hard to define but you know it when you hear it. It’s not an outright insult, but rather a sly, elusive comment that lets you know the snarker is being less than sincere. Snarking may come in many forms: a look, a snort, a word. Snarking leaves the recipient wondering about the genuineness of the snarker, and often results in questions like, “What the hell heck did that mean?”

Some people have snarking down to an art. They casually ply an innuendo at just the right moment, often feigning innocence when questioned. Others are more intentional with their snarks, making no effort to disguise their motive. Then there’s the secret snarker who is kind of like a silent fart, you’re not sure where it came from but you definitely know it’s there.

I will confess, I can snark with the best of em’. It’s not a trait I’m proud of, or would wish upon anyone. It can be a curse for your eyes to betray you. As I child, I was often cautioned, “Don’t look at me in that tone of voice.” What the heck does that mean? (Albeit, I knew darn well what it meant.) Using the word snarky is a softening of the more accurate terms such as demeaning, unkind, disrespectful, or the “B” word.

As far as I know, there’s no cure for snarkitis. I guess the best we can hope for is self-actualization.  Again, what the hell heck does that even mean?