Sometimes the greatest, most profound actions are a function of the simplest effort. Have a terrific day…
Category: friendship
Caffeine Anyone?
A post about the joys of coffee? No – although perhaps a nod to the nectar of the gods, especially as it is being brewed. I realize that many could argue that there are other olfactory stimuli that parallel the sense of delight that coffee elicits, but I believe you’re wrong (caveat – freshly washed baby smells don’t count). For all I know it smells way better than it tastes – that first cup of coffee is an experience for all the senses – even ESP – I know what will happen once I begin drinking it. I will sigh. My head will begin to realize that I’m awake (my body typically follows, not to worry). The Sirs fall asleep after their breakfast and give me the privacy and silence to reverently watch the sun come up. I slowly write my good morning blog and pause every once in a while to make sure it’s making sense. All of this occurs with the promise of freshly brewed coffee.
I am not an aficionado – I just like it strong. I don’t know the difference between crema and foam, the implications of buying beans from the southern corners of Africa or the rain forest in Brazil. I grew up believing that Chock Ful O’ Nuts ‘was a heavenly coffee’. Fine by me – it made it possible to talk to my mom each day, for there was no talking allowed until she had a cup. We’re packing up to go to the mountains with friends for the weekend and the only requirement from me? Coffee. And half and half. A mug. I’m pretty easy..(ok, I’m not easy, but clearly I can be had – how embarrassing).
It occurs to me that I’ve just provided you with two paragraphs on coffee. Ah well – it’s Friday! It’s time to take off your big girl and boy pants and get a little crazy, whatever your definition of that may be. Cannonball into a pool, eat ice cream with sprinkles and a cone and forget the calorie angel sitting on your shoulder – in fact, tell her to give it a rest. It’s the weekend. Go outside if you can and find one thing you never noticed before (hint – a new bud on a flowering bush counts), make faces in a mirror (I do this naturally – it amuses me), tickle as many senses as you can just by being exactly where and who you are. Play. Hug. Giggle. Revel. But first – have a cup of coffee. Happy weekend all..
Which Way Wednesday – You Choose
I love this story, having heard and read it many times before. You probably have too. The imagery put me off a little at first – using wolves as the metaphor for our two inner selves. I associate wolves with aggressiveness, fearlessness and a very hostile reaction to Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother, despite my awareness that they are also nurturing, protective and inclined to stay with their pack. So retrospectively – it seems the analogy is perfect, doesn’t it?
We choose everyday. Certainly in the law firm environment in which I worked, I saw far more self-serving behavior than anything else. The intensity of the competition, the race to be the best, the ego needs that demanded assuaging, the unspoken reality that you ‘eat-what-you-kill’. The challenge – which was honestly fun to accept – was choosing to remain part of the firm’s collective conscience. Did I do this perfectly? Absolutely not. Was the lure of inferiority nipping at my heels – you’re kidding, right? This is me. Of course it did. And did I act at times out of anger? Yes although probably more in a passive aggressive way, because in that regard I’m wrapped pretty tight.
This isn’t about me though – it’s about you. Do you realize the elements within you that aren’t aligned – the ‘ fight’ if you will for emotional sustenance, attention and control that wrestles within you? Certainly it is far preferable to feed the goodness, cultivate it, share it – make it the stronger part of who you are, so that you look upon the end of each day as one you lived well. Sometimes though, we do feed the wrong elements of our being – do you know when you’re doing it? When at work? At home? How does it reinforce the perception that others have of you? Thoughts for a Wednesday morning, considerations for a lifetime? Choose well today my friends and make it a good day.
Of Love and Turtles and Lifetimes, Oh My!
Catching up from one weekend away is really quite overwhelming. There was some news though which still has me reeling – I’m sure you saw or read about it as well – the break up of Bibi and Poldi. A greater love story has never been told. Two giant turtles joined together by circumstance, lust or a mutual affection for grape leaves can no longer abide each other’s presence, let alone give each other a kiss good morning.
Bibi’s the one who wants out. She’s become quite the nasty old girl – she bit Poldi’s shell and basically told him to get out. Unfortunately, even if Poldi had a place to go, it would take him about a month to make any progress towards the door. Their caregivers (for at their age, you really can’t call these people anything other than ‘caregivers’) have tried many interventions – marital counseling, turtle aphrodisiacs (I have no idea what these are – Cialis? Dark chocolate and strawberries?), I even think someone penned a love letter to Bibi on Poldi’s behalf. Nothing’s worked – no medically reinforced erection, the chocolate upset their digestive tracts and Poldi ate the letter. Yes, I made up the last part.
I wonder whether we’ve really given them enough time or too much time? I mean, do we know when Bibi really fell out of love? Given the speed with which things happen in Turtledom, she might have been enduring a loveless union for the last fifty years – in which case, I think biting her spouse was a pretty mild response. Can one really blame her for being tired of looking at the same wrinkled face day after day, year after year? Making the same breakfast, withstanding the same lack of table manners – not even getting a “thank you honey” for over a century? One hundred and fifteen years of waiting for the rock to be moved, a birthday to be remembered, maybe an understanding hug in lieu of a mechanical climb up her back which takes so long, he forgets what he’s doing up there, and she falls asleep feeling like the weight of the world is on her shoulders? Can you blame the poor girl? When is enough enough? I am confident that if she gets a good turtle lawyer (like Raoul Felder dressed as a Ninja Turtle) she’ll be able to live her remaining six hundred years in peace.
And Poldi? My hunch is that he wouldn’t mind a little more peace and quiet either. A hundred years ago, she was a helluva looker, with bedroom eyes and a smile that would melt anybody’s shell. Now she’s just a bitter, hormonal kvetch who finds fault with everything he does. Not to mention that she could use a few more trips to the gym. And if he had bitten her – the turtle police would have been all over him. He’d just as soon trade her in for a newer model if anyone would bother to ask him.
I still say that one hundred fifteen years of matrimony is arguably a success – even if they end up divorcing. I think they really gave it the yeoman’s try. That said, they should be sure before they begin mediation – take some time, think it through, see if there is anything left to salvage. You know what they say – love takes time.
Lighten Up Tuesday
I spoke to my husband for the first time twenty-one years ago today (or yesterday, I’m not the best with dates). Long story short – I had just stepped on a bee, the boys were running around like Max in his wolf suit times two, dinner was burning and the phone rang. After explaining that it wasn’t really a great time to talk, he asked what I was doing later in the week. My response? “Nothing much” His response? “I’ll be out-of-town for the rest of the week”. In my head I was yelling “then why the hell did you just ask me what I was doing all week?”, but I let it slide – my foot was swelling, we clearly weren’t going to get past this conversation and someone, anyone needed to go into time out.
Needless to say we spoke a lot while he was away and upon his return. We’re coming up on twenty years of marriage – a stunning number to me. He will tell you that I still have a pair of sneakers in the garage in case I need to run away; I will tell you that he can still tune me out better than anyone I’ve ever known. We’re both right and we’re both wrong. He lets me keep the sneakers outside so I feel I have the choice; I don’t press to be listened to unless I really need his attention. We make each other crazy and we keep each other sane. At the risk of cliché – we may not light up the sky, but we try to remember that we are here to light each other’s way. And that’s pretty damn wonderful. I hope your day is very well-lit and warmed with love – as corny as that may be. Happy Tuesday all..
Sometimes History Bears Repeating
I drove back from the camp reunion yesterday. That sounds so silly – a camp reunion. The last time I had been there was oh, 38 years ago plus or minus. I’ll cut to the end in case you need to know the ending first – I had a far, far better time than my anxieties suggested I would.
The hills seemed steeper, the bunk beds lower. The stage I sang on – waaaay smaller. I was recognized and remembered by people who I was sure considered me totally inconsequential. I had the chance to see women-who-were-once-girls – my girls, and I hugged them with almost the same proprietary sense of love that I felt for them when they thought I was tall (at a whopping 4’11”) and they were indeed quite small. I was astounded by some people who spoke of the difference I made while I was there – for such comments came from people who I was sure barely knew I existed.
In some ways so much was the same, and in other ways history was rewritten with a gentle hand. The delicate balance between the teen-aged me and the adult me remained carefully calibrated to prevent any old hurts from reappearing. And yet, I discovered that such protection wasn’t necessary, for that which I remembered had been softened and altered by others’ oral histories. Time has been generous with people’s memories of me and permits me to think far more kindly of those summers when I was sure that I had one foot perpetually outside the ‘cool’ circle. I did – and now it is okay – then, it was torture.
The girls? The girls are still all incredible. A writer (who along with her partner suffered my ambivalence with such kindness – and a little wine – over the weekend), a talent agent and producer, moms, doctors, teachers, non-profit volunteers. Most happily married, some perhaps not; some struggling with health challenges, others with tales of survival. We spoke of our own kids, ranging in age from pre-teen to adult. The guys? Warm, funny, far more expansive as grown ups (and I’m not talking waist size) – and they’ve learned how to hug with heart.
It’s a funny kind of withdrawal one has when driving away with adolescence so clearly visible in the rear view mirror. I cried as I waved goodbye, confident that with my high level of immaturity, I would see that girl again soon. But the others who crowded my heart as I left? Who knows what surprises life holds? It is true though – they have never left my heart.
Guess What Finally Arrived? FRIDAY!!!
Something tells me it’s going to be a wonderful Friday – and the perfect lead-in for a terrific weekend. At least, that’s what I wish for you (and me too). I’m off to a camp reunion. Yes, the campers I haven’t seen in 40 years and I will hug as if they were still 8, and my peers who understandably won’t remember me because, well..because I was pretty forgettable. This is me taking on something way out of my comfort zone, if you can’t tell. Nonetheless, I’m off…So enjoy your weekend all, savor the thought that your best day hasn’t even happened yet. I hope you let me know when it finds you.
You Are What You Feel – And I Feel Really Good…
..right now. Doesn’t mean I always feel good, but in this moment, I am happy, thankful, giggly and humbled. And I’m lucky or blessed – or both. I am the recipient of another award – and this really feels like an embarrassment of riches.
A word though about the person who acknowledged me in this wonderful way.
I received the Reader Appreciation Award from supertucksmama. I read her blog as often as she posts. She wrote that my blog “..keeps [her] spirits lifted. Daily. Promise.” The irony is that she so inspires me. Her heart reveals itself in her words, she offers up the beauty and the frustrations of motherhood; her challenges in raising a super hero are palpable, her commitment to educating her readership about autism unparalleled and she embraces it all with the passion that only Super Tuck’s mama could have. I am the better for being allowed to share in a small part of her life, her generosity, humor and spirit. Nope, we’ve never met, yet she is arguably one of those incredibly special people that enter your life in a serendipitous way. My thanks to her are huge, and she is deserving of those thanks many times over. Please check out her blog when you get a moment. You’ll be the better for it. Promise.
I will answer the questions that are attached to receiving this award and nominate others in my next post. Today though I just wanted to say thank you and spend a moment sending a big hug to Tuck’s mom.
And The Sunshine Belongs To….Everybody
I know what you’re thinking, “duh, Mimi – we are all adults with varying degrees of intelligence, but if this is first occurring to you now, then there is perhaps more wrong with you than you have been sharing.” Ok – I was just hoping to get your attention. I received a Sunshine Blogger Award today from a blogger who truly brings the sunshine with her every time she writes. I love that she felt that I was deserving of such praise from her. Her blog – ‘blessedwithastarontheforehead.wordpress.com – is a delight and I send her many thank yous for being so generous with me.
I’m going to be compliant..I will follow the rules. Ten things about me –
1. I was the first Jewish cheerleader at Hobart & William Smith Colleges during my sophomore year there. Retrospectively, this is a bit of an embarrassment. They chose me because they needed a really vertically challenged girl and I fit that bill at 5’o”. I’m now a whopping 4’11”.
2. My sister and I were in the opening clip of a ‘blue’ movie when I was five and she was eight and half. Our uncle was a film director specializing in the types of movies that used to be reviewed by Playboy. We played passengers on a plane. I got $2.00 for sitting on a plane in a hangar at LaGuardia Airport. I didn’t understand why my mother so vehemently discouraged me from trying to get autographs.
3. I have very long conversations with my dogs. They always see things my way.
4. Although my kids loved Mr. Rogers, there was something about him I found a little scary (with no disrespect intended to any of his family)
5. After visiting and singing at The New Canaan Baptist Church in Harlem, I wanted to become a Baptist. I also wanted Mahalia Jackson to be my mom (along with my own mom of course).
6. I am religious about saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and meaning it. The good news is, I get remembered a lot. The meh news is that people like to tell me a lot about themselves, even if I’m in the ladies room.
7. I name my cars. I just got a new one – her name is Darcy.
8. I believe that I must have been a very good person in another life, because as tough as some times have been in this one, I have been so flippin’ blessed, it blows my mind.
9. I taught myself how to knit by watching YouTube. I’m about as good as one would be who self-teaches by watching 4 minute videos.
10. I really believe that the care and nurturing of our connection to each other is the key to our professional, personal, individual, familial, social and whatever-other-kind-of-success you can think of.
Ten nominees…I’m hesitating here, only because I got a little burnt before with a couple of responses of ‘thanks-but-no-thanks’. I may be reiterative – I’m sorry. And I’ll add Mimi’s rule – if you don’t like it, don’t acknowledge it. But know that I think the world of what you’re putting out there and your willingness to share your talent and your journey. In some cases it’s the writing, in others it’s the photography, others tell a story I want to understand…
Missunderstood Genius
Manage.Better.Now
Dr. Bill Wooten
Lifeyum
Help Me Rhonda
Donna & Diablo
Adventures In Borderline Land
A Door To The Past
Girl On The Contrary
News Of The Times
Ok…as you know, I have no skill with posting these awards on my site, but that doesn’t diminish my appreciation one iota. Thank you..I love the idea that somehow to some people, I’m associated with sunshine. That makes me very happy.
What’s Love Got To Do With It? Probably Everything
I don’t think anyone gets to hit their thirties without carrying some baggage. The twenties are a period where we practice at adulthood, and when we screw up (as we are all wont to do), we have the most reasonable explanation in the world – “I’ve never been an adult before, this whole on-your-own thing is new to me.” Basically the twenties are life’s Mulligan (no I don’t play golf, but my husband does and I love the idea that someone can get a do-over just by asking for it).
The blessing and curse of growing up is the amount of luggage you need to carry. The smaller suitcase from childhood holds irrational insecurities, the first glimpses of the unfairness of life and the undergarments of self-doubt (has to be underwear, cause it’s light and carrying something too heavy is very tough on a child’s back). The valise packed to capacity with the hurts of adolescence, the pain of unrequited love and the romance of love that involves back seats (unless you’re from NYC – no back seats available because no one drives), passed notes in class and hallways, whispers and every love song written with your love in mind and promises that typically get broken. The passionate belief that you know who you are and the equally jarring awareness that you have no idea what-the-hell-you’re-talking-about. By the time we enter our late teens and early twenties, we’re probably carrying at least one suitcase, a couple of carry-ons and a backpack. And that’s presuming that life hasn’t over-burdened us. I won’t belabor the decades that follow, for each brings another piece of luggage with a personalized I.D. tag. I’m not even sure if we get a pair of wheelies.
At the end of the day, we’re all juggling an awful lot of baggage. Whether you are a life partner, friend, or a supervisor of other people – recognize this fact. I have had the unparalleled joy of working with bosses who picked up a suitcase for me on occasion, so that I could bust through a challenge that I was struggling to successfully meet. I have been the supervisor who happily let my colleagues know where they could store their luggage so that they had freedom of movement and a chance to feel lighter. Sometimes they never came back to claim their stuff – and that was just fine with me. I have also had bosses who intentionally opened my baggage to see if they could add to its weight (I’ve since bought some luggage locks) – or gave me one more piece to hold.
So from where I sit this morning (in the kitchen at the round table, btw) after a tough night with little sleep and the vulnerability that comes from feeling a little too uncomfortable, I think how lucky I am that my husband helps with my luggage. How much I try to help him lighten his load. There is a point in all of our lives when we realize that we’re holding on to more than we need to – and if you have people around who can help you unpack a little, sort through the worn out stuff that no longer fits and discard that with historic expiration dates – offer up a thank you and just think how much lighter you feel. Happy Wednesday my friends – smile.
A Tuesday Whisper. A Hope For A Lifetime
I have to say that after I read this quote, my first thought was “Hmmm, I hope he told this to Zelda.” My second thought was how complete. Whether wishing another well in his/her professional or personal life, whether young or old, currently contented or suffering from a case of the emotional itches that disrupt your day. For all the times I’ve written about ‘rules of management’, lessons learned from the workplace, etc – the truth is that no one has offered up the ultimate rule book on your life. You can choose all the time, a scary thought in and of itself, but also so full of promise. If you want to be a better boss, friend, spouse, parent, child – go for it. Feel some comfort in knowing that there is nothing stopping you other than your own discomfort, malaise or fear – and those can be stared down with a little fortitude (and perhaps a glass of wine).
To reflect upon your day and feel proud of how you met its challenges and embraced its joys in equal measure. And to know that you can re-create it however you see fit at any moment. These are gifts you can give yourself – you deserve them. Give generously. Have a great day.
Remembering Grace; Forgetting The Snark
Well may I be the first to tell you that I have the technological expertise of a gnat – presuming the gnat lacks much of an elevated intellect or facility with anything other than bugging people (good pun…). I have been trying to cut and paste, paste and cut, copy urls, open images in other tabs…I have a headache. I’m getting the message. I am not meant to post any more on my page than is already there – it is crowded enough with archival references, comments, copyright language, etc…I get it, the universe has spoken.
Nonetheless, over the weekend I was fortunate enough to be given two awards from people whose work I greatly enjoy and with whom I am developing a friendship in the ether for which I am even more grateful.
I received the One Lovely Blog award from the wonderful writer of truthletsandthoughbits.wordpress.com. Not only is her writing delightful, her generosity (and patience) comes through every post.
Simon Marsh accorded me the Sunshine Blog award. I have written about Simon’s blog before, finding his observations and warmth as enveloping as a favorite sweater.
I am humbled by the praise – truly. There have been a few bloggers to whom I have paid it forward, who clearly didn’t feel I was doing them any kindness. They responded with a polite thank you, and a somewhat snarky perception of the lack of gravitas associated with these manufactured follies. To them, I apologize and assure them I will never mention them again. I will say though that no one is mistaking this recognition for a Pulitzer, a publishing contract or a stellar review from the New York Times Review Of Books. Suggesting that someone makes you happy or makes you think or inspires you to wonder at the magnificence of a photo or a poem – I don’t know, to me that seems to be a mighty signficant reward in and of itself. That is how I interpret these acknowledgements. I may not be permanently posting them on my page, but that is a result of my extensive and embarrassing limitations. It is not a reflection of my appreciation at all, for that I can demonstrate by thanking you again and again.
Waiting for the Karma Truck 