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I have been a good errand runner for many years. I have never minded getting those “things” that need to be got. However, the situation can be comical. Early in our marriage, I learned brand preference – often taking a boxtop as a crutch to make sure. Everything changed after our first daughter was born and the new mama needed something different. My mind isn’t programmed for different.
There I stood looking at an infinite wall of products with no idea what to purchase. I am sure she had given me instructions, but I had no purchase history, no boxtop, no clue. The wall got bigger and bigger while I shrunk into a puddle of indecision.
Until I was rescued by a wonderfully kind, large woman who took pity on me.
“You need some help, honey?” she asked.
“Well, yes, is it that obvious?” I stammered.
“It sure is. What’s the problem?”
“Well, I need to get something for my wife. We just had a baby.”
Her angelic face lit up with joy, “Oh, sweety! How wonderful! Is it a boy or a girl?”
“We had a little girl,” I replied proudly as I dug a picture out to show her.
“She’s just beautiful,” she said. And as if she suddenly plugged into an amplifier, her voice boomed throughout the store while I shrunk even smaller. “WHAT YOU NEED IS NIGHT TIME EXTRA-ABSORBANT…..”
I’ve forgotten whatever else she said. It went on for some time, I think. I will forever appreciate her help, but I have no idea why she had to tell everyone in a five mile radius of the store what I was shopping for. She was spot on with her advice, though.
I was only twenty-eight then. Why it mattered I don’t know. I couldn’t care less now. I have had to do a great deal of shopping lately – and with a wife and three teenage daughters, yes, I have purchased quite a few of those types of products. I don’t flinch anymore. In fact, I like to check out wherever a young boy is working give him to he stink-eye as he handles the carton. I have made more than one blush.
Better yet, when I come home I have even more fun by announcing, “I got your feminine hygiene products.” There is never a “daddy’s home!” parade for that proclamation. No one comes running. They don’t want to hear that from their father. So I deliver them personally to their rooms and make the announcement individually. Lots of rolled eyes and groans.
I don’t mind buying that stuff anymore, but I do have one regret. With four daughters, why didn’t I have the forethought to invest in that stock? If I had done that, I truly would be the King of Feminine Hygiene!
A quite lively discussion has blown in from space on a friends Face-postcard about something I forgot because it went a completely different way in short order and is now a history lesson on indigenous peoples.
It was said the “Native “”American”” people” were here first and that they claim to be “Indigenous” and that they have their traditional stories to back up their claim to properties etc.
That got me to thinking (usually leads to minor disasters) that just because someone in your past lived some place and told creation stories doesn’t always mean you have any more rights than the guy who was born there after you lost the battle, in my case way after.
I know, growing up, my mother used to tell me, when I asked how I got here that I came from heaven and perhaps, if I’m a good boy, God will give me land there again though I think he may balk at the casino I want to build even if it is to take all the sinner’s money or credits or what ever the currency of his realm is.
And further more if in the past there was only one super continent, Pangaea or what ever they really called it, then we all have a claim to everywhere cause we are all descendants of the original inhabitants and I’ll bet a dollar to a doughnut there aint anywho who can tell me where they thought they came from even after the break up.
I thought perhaps we are all from Mars via the Pleiades star system but had to leave cause the Marshonians wanted the place back so we moved on as they had come from the Hercules system to Mars first.
To send every one back to where they came from is stupid, you can’t fit that many people on Ellis Island let alone grow enough hemp there to have a trade economy with New York.
I don’t know the answer other than if we don’t start being natives from “EARTH” the little grey men will boot us out and wipe out the myths of our origins from then to eternity.
First of all, have you watched this yet? If not, do. Then we’ll talk:
Now here’s what I have to add to the topic of weight and body image and all that:
When I was quite a bit heavier than I am now, I went through Weight Watchers. And I’ll never forget what the instructor told us at one of the meetings: “Underwear isn’t supposed to hurt.” Changed my life, that statement. But maybe not for reasons the instructor would have expected.
She was trying to inspire us to reach our goal weights, and that was fine, as far as it went. But what it really said–to me, at least–was that we might not even realize we’re being mean to ourselves by wearing clothes that don’t fit us well. Maybe we’re so caught up in the idea of “these are the pants I’ll wear when I get down to X pounds,” we forget that we’re allowed to feel comfortable NOW, even before or while we work on losing weight.
Maybe some of you are like me, and you’re very good at being stern with yourselves. Being the drill sergeant, the disciplinarian, the one who makes up all the rules and then tries to come up with proper consequences when you violate them. So if you eat this cupcake, you’d better work out twice as hard tomorrow. Or my favorite at one time, the “bland days” that would follow a few days of unbridled eating. Then it was nothing but rice and vegetables or dry toast for me. Fun, huh? Really enjoying my life.
But I don’t do any of that anymore. Because I realized there’s no one making me be mean to myself but me. I’m a full-grown adult now, and I’m allowed to treat myself the way I would treat someone I love. I can’t imagine saying to my niece or to my best friend, “You ate half a bag of tortilla chips and a whole container of salsa this afternoon? Bad! You’re horrible! You’d better eat nothing but salads for the next five days!” Instead I’m sure I’d laugh it off, tell them I’ve done the same and more in times of stress (you have no idea how many cookies I sometimes need to get myself through the writing of some chapter that’s giving me fits), and then we’d go on talking about something far more important than whether her pants would be too tight tomorrow. Yes, they probably will. So what? Life goes on.
What I always found destructive in those times of self-criticism was the attitude of, “Oh, well, I’ve ruined it already. Might as well just keep eating everything in the world.” Uh, no. Might as well go do something sweet for myself instead, like take a hot bath or read a great book or pop in some rom-com DVD. Any of those take the place of chips or cookies–pure indulgence, meant only for me. Which means I’m also not allowed to criticize myself for goofing off. That’s right, I’m doing this right now. Because I’m allowed to be nice to myself.
I mentioned last week that I’m currently on a green smoothie kick, but let me be clear: It’s not a punishment of some kind. I’m doing it because I finally experienced what a proper green smoothie tastes like, I enjoyed it, I liked how it felt in my body, and so as a kindness to myself I’m going to drink some more. But if at any point I decide I don’t like the taste anymore or I don’t like that full feeling from having gobs and gobs of fruits and nuts and vegetables in what seems like a simple chocolate milkshake (by the way, I’ve been working on that recipe and have made it even better), then that’s it. No more. I’ll only do it if it feels nice.
That’s one of the pleasures of being an adult. A pleasure I wish I had learned back when I was a chubby teenager wearing clothing that hurt me every day, thinking it would motivate me to be skinnier. It didn’t. It just made me feel bad.
So I hope next time you pull on a pair of underwear with a waistband that cuts into your skin, you stop yourself and think, “Underwear isn’t supposed to hurt.” And that you take the next step by going to Target or wherever and buying yourself a package of underwear one size up. Or two sizes up, if you need to. Because that one simple thing might mean the difference between you feeling happy and comfortable in your body today, and you feeling miserable and guilty and unworthy. Such a simple fix. And believe me, you deserve it.
And the next time you go crazy eating something you’re sure you’re not supposed to eat, shrug it off. Do better tomorrow. Or do better starting a minute from now–the right path is always there waiting for you, whenever you feel like stepping back onto it. No worries, no punishment, no “bland days” or drill sergeant. The time to be sweet to yourself starts now.
It’s the kind of thing you can get used to.Add a Comment
My heart hurts for the families and communities in Kansas City. It was a senseless crime. And it was crime that originated in a heart filled with hate. If you haven’t seen the news, you can see the story here: http://www.cnn.com/2014/04/14/us/kansas-jewish-center-shooting/ Thus, this my reply: RESPONSE TO FEAR AND HATRED: Winter can’t stop Spring from […]Display Comments Add a Comment
11x14 acrylic on canvas
Where were you when you first heard the sound? Good sounds – your husband’s voice, your baby’s giggle, the words “I love you?” Do you remember? Can you picture the scene and surroundings?
I experienced a condensed courtship with my wife because I was briefly called back to service during Desert Storm. I don’t recall the first expression of the four- letter L word in our relationship. I know it came, and stuck. I have said it to her every day for nearly twenty-two years. I say it every night to my girls and sometimes in front of other people, much to their chagrin.
I wish I remembered the first time I said it, though.
I will never forget the first time I heard the word Cancer as it related to my family. I was in the hospital just a week ago when it was introduced to me, while my little girl lay sleeping nearby. The doctor actually used the words “oncological event” before I made him dumb it down for me. Cancer.
I held my wife in my arms as she collapsed into a puddle. Doesn’t cancer affect other families? Why would he be saying this word? I felt an instant dislike for this man, but my mind clouded to nothing. My wife’s head heaved in my chest. I couldn’t think in more than three word bursts. I have no idea how long we stood that way. I was roused only by the sound of a man pushing a cart way down at the end of the hall. The wheel squeaked as he carried out his task and I remember thinking, “How can he be pushing that? Doesn’t he know? It doesn’t matter where that squeaky cart is! Why isn’t he stopping?”
It was then I realized this isn’t everyone’s diagnosis. It is Kylie’s and ours: our family’s, our friends and network of support. But the rest of the world will continue to march on around us.
I will add a link to Kylie’s Caring Bridge at the end of this post because I won’t allow cancer to dominate my writing. It will peak its evil head in from time to time, I have no doubt. But I won’t allow it to take over my life, steal my joy, soil my faith, or crush my little girl.
It took a while to determine the enemy. Until then, we’ve been punching at shadows. Now we start to take it out. We are at the beginning of a long road, but there is hope. Kylie knows what is going on, she is scared. We cried together and prayed. She has decided that this is happening because God must have a really big, great plan for her. I don’t know if I could have gotten to those words so quickly at twelve – she’s just chock-full of amazing.
The picture I added is one of Kylie as Annie in her school play a couple of years ago. She is an incredible actress and I can’t wait to see her on stage again.
Because our minds are reeling right now, the verse we’ve been holding onto is Romans 8:26
Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered.
Thank you for your prayers and words of encouragement, friends. I have to go now, the bell just sounded for round one…
|©the enchanted easel 2014|
We are pleased to announce the release of our second young adult book in our Alpha Girls series, Larva. Book two of The Alpha Girls series follows Caitlin and her friends during their freshman year of high school.
Caitlin has been dating Josh most of the summer, but she finds herself torn between Josh and the new man on campus, Trick. Trick shared a passionate kiss with Caitlin over the summer on a Florida beach, but she never thought she’d see him again.
High school is full of choices. Some more difficult than others.
Remember in the 70′s when some white-haired old men in polyester suits said that if you spun your evil rock & roll records backwards, you could hear embedded devil lyrics that would worm their way deep inside the unsuspecting soul. Backwards masking! Subliminal hellfire! My friends and I spent hours pulling at our turntables hoping to find something through all of the garbled, warped noise. In the end, the buffoons probably boosted record sales more than anything else.
But why are we fascinated? Why do we spend time, energy, and emotion looking for bad?
Abe Lincoln once said, “If you look for the bad in mankind, expecting to find it, you surely will.”
Yeah, you don’t have to look hard to find bad. It’s everywhere. So, when you stumble upon it, as you inevitably will, what do you do with it? Shout at it? I can’t find where Jesus said we were to shout at the darkness. What good does that do? “Hey darkness, uh… you’re dark!” I do see the Sermon of the Mount where Jesus said we were to shine a light in the darkness. There is quite a difference between the two.
Matthew5:16 Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.
Shouting only makes noise, while shining a light shows direction.
Shouting creates confusion, light dispels fear.
Shouting is angry, sharing light is love defined.
My oldest daughter told me about a “preacher” out west who has decided that the Disney movie Frozen is going to make us all gay with its hidden agenda. Before I address him, I want to give you my review of the movie. I really liked it. It was like Up - I had few expectations going in but I walked away loving it. Olaf cracked me up, the story was compelling, and the music was beautiful. Now that the Bluray has come out, I’ve seen it again and I still like it. (oh no, I said ‘come out’, what’s happening to me?) It’s a very sweet story and I think anyone finding an agenda simply has one of their own. They are searching for substance out of shadows.
I had originally quoted some of what the shouter said here, but I don’t want to give air to such blather, especially since he admits he has not seen the movie. I will give one quote for the sole purpose of mocking it:
“If I was the Devil, what would I do to really foul up an entire social system and do something really, really, really evil to 5- and 6- and 7-year-olds in Christian families around America?…If I was the Devil, I would buy Disney in 1984, that’s what I would have done.”
I read The Screwtape Letters. I know C.S. Lewis, and you, sir, are no C.S. Lewis.
But maybe. Just maybe… if I were the devil, I’d sit back in an ivory tower and in the name of religion spew ridiculous insinuations that make the church of Jesus Christ seem like a bunch of backwards, unloving idiots that no one in their right mind would want to be a part of. Yeah, that’s what I’d do.
Look around, Rev. Shouterson, this tactic seems to be working.
This post is a bit out of the norm for me. I typed it while ticked off and debated whether to trash it. I even made a new (hopefully seldom-used) category called ‘Don’t Blog Angry’ for it when I decided to push publish. Uh, enjoy – I guess?
|the wistful ones|
©the enchanted easel 2014
Tom Selleck owes me an apology. Anyone my age knows the unobtainable standard he set for a teenage boy just coming into maturity. Why, do you ask, am I seeking contrition from him?
Good looks? No.
Suave disposition? No.
All the ladies? No…well maybe.
I’m talking about the hair…his stinking perfect hair.
When all of the girls had a picture of the Magnum PI in mind, how could any of us real boys measure up? Curly coiffure, bushy mustache, chest hair, leg hair… There it is! Leg hair. Recently, smooth has become stylish and I would have been perfect for this new generation. But that isn’t my generation. When I was in high school and college, the girls wanted hair and lots of it. Hair I didn’t have. Well, that’s not absolutely true. Science should study my leg hair because it is translucent like that of a polar bear. It’s there, just not to the naked eye. It only shows up if I have a deep tan, which is near impossible for someone of Swedish/Germanic descent. Undaunted, I went to the pool, laid out, and held my legs just right so that passing females might possibly get the proper angle to spot a few strands.
As a freshman in college, I went so far as to purchase a tanning package. I donned little glasses and laid on top of the plastic surface to bake. And bake I did. Remember the shorts Magnum used to wear? Not long like they are today, 80′s shorts came way up on the thigh. Hoping my tan would expose leg hair from the top of my leg to my toes, I even pulled them up higher. Oh yeah, I got burned in very sensitive areas. It hurt for weeks and didn’t help my hair stand out whatsoever.
We all have physical characteristics we would rather minimize or hide completely. Just the other day, I was talking with a friend who told me her 10 year-old daughter E had been called fat by another girl. My heart sank. Her sweet little girl is now self-conscious about something as irrelevant as my smooth legs. She is active and isn’t overweight in the least, but also isn’t waif-thin like so many women our society seems to put on a pedestal. Such a tragedy.
I want so much for her and other little girls to see what truly matters about themselves instead of what is fleeting.
Your beauty should not consist of outward things … Instead, it should consist of what is inside the heart with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very valuable in God’s eyes.
That’s what is important. I hope my daughters know that. I pray little E learns that too. We have to tell them they are beautiful and keep on telling them until they understand. That’s how God sees them.
So Tom, whenever you are ready, it has taken 25 years, but I am finally over your provocation and prepared to accept your apology. It’s been a long time coming.
Perhaps one of the biggest challenges Jesus makes of his disciples and to us today is written in Luke 12: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear.” There are very few of us who have never worried ourselves silly about any one of these things. To actually make the choice to NOT worry about these things, and be able to pull it off, requires a deep trust and a profound intuitive insight into the love that provides for the birds of the air and the lilies of the fields as well as each of us.
Asking what gets in the way of being able to trust so deeply challenges us to dig deep to recognize our fears—fears that indicate our waking consciousness with its limited understanding is ruling the day. Waking consciousness is governed by the rational mind which sees only dualism: right and wrong, life and death, health and disease, strong and weak, rich and poor, insider and outsider. It is the outcome of the human condition, of eating of the Tree of Knowledge, knowing good and evil. We can be blinded by our fears, producing anxious greed, insecurity and endless striving for what we think will help us. If we do get what we want, we become like the rich man who thinks he is on top of the world with his riches that will last him for years, not knowing his riches will be worth nothing when his life is taken that night. Caught in this duality, we will always prefer and strive for one over the other, not recognizing there is another way of understanding the world.
Intuition is the awareness of oneness, that we all part of the whole and, as a result are informed and supported by the whole. This awareness as expressed in relationship is love. The more we can rely on intuition, the greater the result. Edgar Cayce said in reading 792-2, “The more and more each is impelled by that which is intuitive, or the relying upon the soul force within, the greater, the farther, the deeper, the broader, the more constructive may be the result.” A developed intuition, one that has been tested and proven true, can trust that the Spirit will come to inform us in times of crises, and that our needs will be provided, freeing us to recognize the needs of others to be just as important as our own.
Jesus was well aware that his teachings which are based on the radical intuitive awareness that we are one with each other is not in accordance with the ways of the world. He said his words would pit mother against daughter and father and against son. And yet the radical intuitive awareness known as love is the way out of the limitations of dualistic thinking.