Sunflower Truth

September 15, 2019 by

Just saw this amazingly awesome meme and

Me: OMG! That’s the most beautiful thing ever! Nature is the OG harbinger of a wonderful, beautiful life

Other Me: I bet that’s a total crock of internet shit

Yeah, it’s like living with two squabbling siblings in your head. Don’t feel sorry for me, it’s my husband that’s the saint.

Anyway, Me and Other Me had to know so we go to the googles

Fact is, sunflowers don’t turn and face each other.

Other Me: Told you

Another fact, they don’t track the sun during the day either.

All the Mes: Huh?

Nope. If you simulate a different sun pattern time, the flowers will stick to their own rhythm and become off sync with the movement of the “sun”. Sunflowers are inner wired with a circadian rhythm that varies their stem growth which tracks the flower head east to west. Once the flower fully matures, the flower head will stay facing permanently east.

Therefore, they neither react to cloudy and gray nor the sunny and bright. Additionally, what this picture has captured is a grown, and not yet grown sunflower occupying the same place.

Other Me: That shit about the sun is a little sad, but worth it to obliterate another piece of internet drivel.

Me: A little sad?? A little?? It’s a lot sad. They are sunflowers for crying out loud and the symbol of keeping your chin up and face in the light, and reaching up, and…and…and…well, now I just can’t.

I thought about the sunflower a little longer in an effort to find an appropriate middle ground for my inappropriately dramatic selves. And, in sincerity, I do think that much of every question is already answered somewhere in the cycles and behavior of nature.  

So I propose this about our friend the sunflower.

I agree it was a little cool to think about this flower hanging out in nature doing whatever its little flower self had to do to keep its face in the sun. But honestly, this is way cooler. The sunflower is nobody’s punk – not even then sun. Sure, Sunflower bounces around giving off the airy vibe of peace, love, and sunshine, but don’t mistake its daily yoga practice for putting up with just anybody’s bitch ass. Sunflower has its own shit to handle.  Sunflower has its own groove, its own rhythm. And Sunflower is gonna follow it – rainy day or no.

Bonus thought. Yes, I know if is just a meme. By the way, this last idea is probably gonna sound a bit heavier than I intend it to, but whatevs. I think it’s important that you know I thought it in the midst of everything going on up there.

Anyway, I know it is just a meme. I also know that, unlike many memes, this small bit of misinformation is pretty benign and harmless. But it is still misinformation. And, if I tie back into my thought that answers to our greatest challenges are probably waiting to be found in the natural, then misinformation can be detrimental.  

More over (and this is where I know it gets a little much, but still true), the past few years have made owing, speaking, protecting my truth top priority. A by product of that is the allowance, hope, and expectation that those around me have some of that going on themselves. Sunflower has that and deserves to be appreciated for its actual truth, not some truth some internet meme maker created about it. I get super defensive of truth – even the little Sunflower’s.

Although, honestly, Sunflower probably doesn’t care what you think about it. There’s another life lesson in nature.

Filed Under: Chrysalis, The Thinking Chair Tagged With: , ,

There is so much more going on here…

February 16, 2019 by

When I came across this quote last week, I knew there was a lot there. I also knew I wasn’t going to wait to figure out what all the a lot was before I shared it. It is one of those that, on its face is fine…but the more, the more is where the goods are.

Before we go any further, let me clarify that although Morgan Freeman is in the picture, I’m not sure he said this. Even if he did, British philosopher James Allen said it first – or something pretty damn close to it. And since he was born in the 1800’s, he probably is older than Morgan. For those who are super curious, the Allen work is As a Man Thinketh and the actual quote is, “Self-control is strength. Right thought is mastery. Calmness is power.” There, I feel better. On to our regularly scheduled program.

The More. There is so much more going on here. The kicks are in the qualifiers… “based on” … “insignificant” … “others to control” … “overpower.”

Seems like a small thing. It isn’t. It throws back to a bit of the “don’t mistake my kindness for weakness” idea, although not quite.

I’ve been mulling over this idea for a week and I’m still not quite sure how to noun and verb my intent.

Figured it out…it’s in my journal and must be addressed first. Let me go clean it up and then we will circle back…

Filed Under: Chrysalis Tagged With: , , ,

The REAL Thing Confident Women Do

July 17, 2018 by

I’m about to let you in on a little secret. Caveat: if you have ever been to my house, watched me work, or know me at all, this is not a bombshell. I lean decidedly towards the “dis” side of the “organized” spectrum. My intentions, however golden they may be, have never quite been enough to tip those scales. As such, I attempt to, as regularly as I can muster, take a bite of the clutter elephant and put order into the chaos.

Today the task was to go through all my “saved” posts I had clipped on Facebook. It really is quite the handy feature. I save all sorts of things: recipes I’ll likely never make, videos I’ll forget to share, articles I probably won’t read, and topics that I intend to, at some point, maybe, write about.

I can only assume that “22 Things Confident Women Don’t Do” falls into the “articles I probably won’t read” category. But, because I needed to decide whether it was a delete or keep, I clicked through.

I have decided the article would be more accurate if titled something like “22 Things Imaginary Woman Don’t Do” or “22 Unattainable Ideals” or, my personal favorite “Hey Chica, come here and let me kick you in the teeth you inadequate, less than female”.

The list is full of bumper sticker declarations that have the same shallow effect that messages of this type typically have – on the surface they are simple and concise lending the appearance of noble, healthy, and appropriate, but taste all of it for just a minute and it’s just over processed non-food.

In order to maintain perspective (I am prone to knee jerk in these moments of self doubt), I sat with it a while. I am still sitting with it as I do not know the writer and it is not my desire to assume her intention. I have understood for a long time that once you put nouns and verbs together and release them into the world, the intention you insert into the blank spaces may or may not be the intention received by the reader when they, in their own place, encounter those spaces.

However, I have also understood that the responsibility in preserving your message by the surrounding nouns and verbs you choose to couch it in is a real one. Since the author chose to launch her list with “See how many of this list of pitfalls you avoid and how you measure up as a confident woman,” the blank spaces are filled with judgement, condescension, and beratement.

I am currently sitting here contemplating the desire to go through each of the 22 things on this list and refute them. They are ALL refutable; not in the base idea necessarily, but in the absoluteness of the structure. I think that is what a confident woman can do when confronted with the idea that someone’s uneducated opinion of personal behavior is summarily judged and condemned without perspective.

The debater in me wants to follow that path so bad I literally had to step away from the computer to consider it without my fingers poised on keys.

However, I respectfully decline to go that route. Should the course of any conversation that results lend itself to discussing the particulars, so be it. Today, the confident woman in me has a different hierarchy of priorities. Because that is real life. That is how real shit goes. I am not everything everyday. While I may not be consistently immune to self doubt, worry, or the need to people please in my behavior, I am consistently confident as a person.

And there’s the realness of my confidence and the confidence of women, people, I know. I am not ashamed of my vulnerability. I do not judge harshly my base behaviors that I work out in safe spaces with those who know me well and allow me to be safe and vulnerable and real. I am confident in me and confident in them. I hope that is what you find in these blank spaces.

Filed Under: Writing Tagged With: , ,

Finding New Inspiration Writing on Quora

March 26, 2018 by

Look, I get it. I am super late to the Quora game on this one. The truth is, I wasn’t paying attention to the game, didn’t care that there was a game. So I missed this one. Honestly, I would play here even if I wasn’t writing again.

I know, I am getting ahead of myself.

Quora is a question and answer website that has been available to the public since 2010 and currently is estimated to have somewhere around 190 million users (told you I was late to the game). I can’t describe the site better than they can so here it is:

The heart of Quora is questions — questions that affect the world, questions that explain recent world events, questions that guide important life decisions, and questions that provide insights into why other people think differently. Quora is a place where you can ask questions you care about and get answers that are amazing.

That’s the background on the thing. So here’s what happened:

I alternated my audio between Ann Patchett’s fiction work Commonwealth on Audible and Gary Vaynerchuk’s podcast. I finished Commonwealth and was so late to the Gary Vee game (again) that there seems endless material. I needed another book.

I always have to be careful when I pick books. My mood so affects the variety of title I settle on.

Anyway, somehow or another I came across Jordan B. Petersons, 12 Rules for Life.

As an aside, I am only on the second rule and I am hooked. He had me at the lobsters in Rule 1. Seriously, this is a great read.

Peterson mentions Quora in the first few pages of the book. I become intrigued by the narrative. I pause the audio and sit down at the computer. Within the hour I created a profile, asked a few questions, offered a few answers, and exercised great discipline to stop there and get back to my schedule.

It is an amazing site if I can remember to time block, prioritize, and retain the words I put there. It suits my need for direction and focus. I just scroll through questions, wait until I see one that triggers an emotion. Trust me, you won’t have to wait very long. The topics cover everything you could imagine…seriously, everything. Then I click the answers, evaluate whether or not I have something to add, and proceed accordingly. It’s ordered with just the right amount of chaos, it’s functional with just the right amount of drama. It seriously sparks all my words.

So you’ll see those posts pop up here. I am not quite sure how I’ll do that yet. What I do know is that I am not making the same mistake I did in the beginning with TAT and not cross posting stuff into a place where I can archive it for myself.

Additionally, I think some of the questions are great conversation pieces. And, while I have a pretty fair amount of confidence in what I think when I think it, I am open to the idea that there is a perspective out there that I haven’t considered. That’s where you come in. And the wider my perspective, the greater my capacity for empathy. And, I am becoming increasingly convinced that empathy is a cornerstone of my happiness.

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: , , ,

Sidetracked

February 27, 2018 by

This is not what I want to write about this morning. But I am not going to ignore the reasons in which I found myself here to begin with. So, I will sit here and do what I do and see where it goes.

I also haven’t had my first cup of coffee yet. As I reach for it, I realize that thought up there may be expressed in a way that comes off a little harder and frustrated than I actually feel. That’s not quite right. A bit side eyed is exactly how I feel, but not because my intentions were so quickly redirected this morning. The more I think about it, I think it’s just the proximity of the redirection to my first cup of coffee. Anyway…

I woke up this morning with the intention of getting back to Daring Greatly. While getting my coffee and settling into the thinking chair, I had a sliver of an idea that suggested writing prompts were a super good idea. It would add some variety to my subject matter. Variety, it happens, has been something I have been thinking about while playing with the idea that my writings as of late have been a bit indulgent and self centered. I’m not sure that I mind that so much, it is my writing after all, and this little blog isn’t the only thing I am working on. But it was a wonder that came from somewhere so I thought it fair to give it a bit of attention.

I grabbed my Writer’s Companion with the intention of just flipping through it a bit while I let the first bit of coffee do it’s thing, before hanging out with Brene. I opened it up to a random, unintentional place, and this is the first prompt I encounter. 

A lot of different things happened in my brain pretty quickly.

First, I couldn’t believe how the opening line resonated with me. This is literally THE thing I have been wondering about most when it comes to my general headspace and tone in my writing. And then here it is. Laid out like permission, insistence even, from the universe to keep doing the work. I understand that I am particularly open to the “follow this inspiration” idea as it is a central concept in Elizabeth Gilbert’s book, Big Magic – the book which is currently blowing my little brain at the moment.

“Holy shit! Would you look at that,” happens next as I read on and see that it is, in fact, Elizabeth Gilbert who gets the mention in this prompt. That instantly smacks of universal confirmation to continue going deep. To continue to write about those hard, fun, interesting, not so different but feels like a battle things I discover or remember about myself. This is a ton of fun and I’m enjoying my little universal tango.

“Leave our lives behind for indulgent travel?” I am sideways smacked with irritation. I mean the shift is instant and jarring. I actually close the book to see what heifer wrote this trash. Seriously. It occurs to me that this a rather extreme response to something that is pretty innocuous. But, dammit, it feels very nocuous. I mean for real. You think the best way to describe a person’s account of blowing up lives and relationships because you literally see no other way to save yourself from being completely obliterated under all the “ought tos” and you’re pretty sure if you don’t do something your soul is going to be lost to the great unknown forever so you pack up and travel to foreign places where you are alone and have to figure out what in the hell you did and what in the hell you are going to do now is with the words “leave our lives behind for indulgent travel?” Get the fuck out of here.

I am beginning to feel something of a temper tantrum toddler, so I slow down a bit. I understand that I hold a lot of appreciation for Elizabeth Gilbert and her writing. Eat, Pray, Love changed the way I look at writing and authenticity and “ought tos.” Committed helped me work through, in pretty quick fashion, a fairly brain tangled spot in the journey from the life before to the life now. And Big Magic, well, that’s just been amazing. So the truth is I felt like someone had said something super judgy and condescending about a girlfriend to my face. That, I recognize, is ridiculous on two main fronts. First, Elizabeth Gilbert is not someone I know personally. Second, neither is Amy Peters. I am currently all up in my feelings about a statement that was probably well intended towards someone who may very well see it as such herself.

But neither do I discount the discord. I have an understanding that not all feelings express truth. All feelings are indicative of a truth, but what is felt on the surface isn’t always the thing. It is my job to figure out the difference and get to the root of the thing.

After I have stepped back from it, I am glad I allowed this momentary derailment of my morning plans to do what it wanted. I am glad I was open to whatever it was. I am glad that when it felt uncomfortable (even if that uncomfortable wasn’t of any real consequence) I didn’t shy away from it. Understand I completely realize what a small thing all of this is. But it gave me an example to draw from whenever I get up in my feelings about assuming someone else’s motive, think I have any control over how things I create are received once I release them, feel like closing myself off from the gentle suggestions of my thoughts. And that is worth a couple hours of sidetracked.

 

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: , , ,

Information Sources – He Said / She Said (ep. 2)

January 25, 2018 by

My second question for the He Said / She Said was a tad harder than I though it would be. With all the wonders I have in my head on a regular basis, I just naturally assumed presenting topics would be easier. Turns out, it isn’t.

Come to find out, my wonders can get a bit overwhleming when I try to put them in a neat package idea with one concise and clear question. Becasue I am really attempting to be respectful of everyone’s time, I consider it to be a duty of sorts to present topics in that manner – clear and concise.

It doesn’t always work out that way. So I set out to find new ideas in my typical fashion – podcasts. And that got me to thinking, “How do other people get new information, expose themselves to new ideas, or stay informed?” The light bulb went off. I probably should ask the panel. Knowing where they get their information from is probably pretty insightful. It also lends itself pretty readily to asking you all how you stay informed and what that means to you in the first place.

Here are a few of the responses, and we would love to hear your thoughts as well.

How do you consider yourself “informed” or “exposed”?

I generally stay informed and available to new ideas by way of social media and the internet. Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc, are my Sunday paper everyday in real time. I don’t watch the news. It’s too negative. Someone is always getting kidnapped or shot. And I haven’t had cable in 5 years.

My general boredom and cruising of the different platforms (which I have tried to limit because it can be toxic, duh right?) side effect is reading different headlines as to what’s happening in the world. But unlike traditional news outlets like CNN, FOX news, and such that swing heavily to the right or left, and could allegedly be fake news, (HAHA), allow me to form my own opinion. You can find many different posts about any topic on all the platforms, and decide for yourself as to what you feel is going on.

That’s one of the things that makes net neutrality a very interesting and scary topic. Especially when you consider that the decision for 324 million people is decided by 5 unelected officials. Just regular ass people from the FCC who went against 83% of those 324 million people. But I digress.

The other way i get into new ideas is podcasts. I tend to be in my truck a lot on long drives. Nothing eats up time like listening to podcasts. I’d say conservatively I listen to 5-7 hours of podcasts per day. I’m constantly bombarded with different perspective, which I then take and formulate my own thoughts. Or at least I try too.

I’ll leave with this thought, I heard it from Denzel Washington. I’m not sure where he got it from and I didn’t do the time to research it further. “If you don’t listen to the mainstream news your uninformed, if you listen to the mainstream news, your misinformed” Quite the quandary we are in as Americans these days. And I thought propaganda was a NO NO!!

 

Andrew

Actually, the way I get information and the way I’m exposed to “new ideas,” hasn’t changed at all because the world, in particular the USA, hasn’t changed that much at all. There is a saying that goes, “If you stay ready, you don’t have to get ready,” and the same holds true for information. If you stay informed, you don’t have to get informed.

I was blessed to have parents who always made sure we understood history..all of it. The problem is, too many people don’t seem to understand or even care about history, so many of the things that are happening now seem foreign to them. Couple this with the fact that too many people believe that the words “commentator” (opinion) and “journalist” (unbiased) are synonymous, and you end up with people who don’t know what to believe or worse, what THEY believe because they are ignorant to our history. So, they only seek out and listen to those commentators who regurgitate the same “truths” that they already believe.

People aren’t open to receiving new ideas because it’s more comfortable to hold onto their old ones, and that has nothing to do with social media, the internet or anything else. To anyone who knows and understands history, and who has been paying attention, nothing that is happening now should be surprising because we’re just repeating old patterns. Or, as my late grandmother used to say, “The years may change, but the days stay the same.”

GR

This has been difficult for me to find the words to address, simply because the question implies that being informed or exposed is a priority.

I have to admit that I made the conscious decision to disconnect from mainstream news outlets in order to practice intellectual self-defense for my own well-being some time ago. In doing so, I’ve drastically devalued the concept of being informed or exposed to high amounts of information.

Through the use of social media, where I like to interact with friends and family, I can see many topics that are on the forefront of discussion and debate from a sociological and political standpoint, so I am never too far from knowing what is in the latest headlines or what many popular topics are. However, I tend to seek information in areas of interest rather than open myself to whatever is chosen to be broadcast.

I am a firm believer in the importance of societies learning history in order to keep from repeating past mistakes (there’s a clever phrase for this that I can never remember with accuracy, but I’m sure you’re thinking of it), so I enjoy podcasts and documentaries that highlight historical events that are relevant to today’s political and sociological climate. I also like to connect with other people and families that I meet and discuss big, heavy, controversial topics in a personal, face-to-face setting when the time is appropriate. Through these discussions, I am opened up to different ways that people see the world, interpret what they see, and apply what they see and know to their own lives. I have found that personal relationships with others is a much more rewarding and fulfilling way to be “informed” with the outside world.

Barry

There was a time I was a news junkie. That coincided with my “eat politics for breakfast, lunch, and dinner” phase. That can to a screeching halt after I had the opportunity to be a state delegate at the Georgia State Republican Convention in 2008. There’s something about watching the process up close and personal that forces you to come to terms with the way things do and don’t work. But that is a topic for another day.

The important thing is that it was then I realized the way I gathered and processed information had to change if I was going to create a real life with real ideas and real impact. I stopped watching the news. I instead began to look for different ways to gather new ideas. The truth is I was so burnt out that I buried myself in novels for a while and absorbed the world of make believe that was fiction, but at least didn’t pretend to be real life.

Now, most of what I do is chase rabbits. I’ll find a particular meme or shared article on social media interesting, either for it’s content or lack thereof, and hunt it down to it’s origin. It is astounding how often the original post is so far off from the actual truth or intent. It emphasizes to me how lazy we have become in believing what other folks put in front of us as fact.

Podcasts have become invaluable. The wide variety of topics is seemingly endless. Moreover, the diversity of perspective is one I simply can’t get in everyday life. Different belief systems, background, socioeconomic demographics, cultures, ideologies, etc. are all represented and available with a touch of a button. In truth, these ideas vary in truth and reliability as the internet has become the wild west of information. However, Hearing the idea and listening to the dialogue has been invaluable at broadening the wonders I had and creating a forest of new ones.

 

April

Filed Under: Paraphernalia Tagged With: , , ,

Intro Via Cereal – He Said She Said ep.1

December 28, 2017 by

A few weeks ago I encountered an article on a topic that isn’t typically discussed openly or in mixed company. The article invited about two dozen men to share their views on the topic. I found the whole article fascinating. I was able to look into the candid thoughts of a variety of men on a topic I would never discuss directly.

That gave me the idea for He Said / She Said.

I sent an email out to 7 people – 3 women 4 men. I asked them if they would care to participate, at their own discretion and in their own way, in discussing different topics. The topics will be all over the place:

  • who pays on a date
  • when does the Christmas tree go up
  • how many sexual partners is too many
  • Which candy bar is superior
  • is football too dangerous
  • gun control
  • favorite cereal
  • current events
  • If the title of the He Said / She Said is sexist because “He” is first

What follows is the first question and the reply. We hope you enjoy it and participate.

I know this question sounds ridiculous. But I promise it isn’t. If you answer it thoughtfully, it will be a great, non traditional, introduction of a little bit about who you are as a person before we tackle something a bit heavier.

What was your favorite cereal as a child? Is it the same now? Why or why not?

I was a weird kid. My favorite cereal when I was growing up was Life with Cheerios running a close second. I never really cared much for the sugary cereals as a kid. Occasionally a bowl of Cap’n Crunch’s Crunch Berries maybe but, for the most part, I was a Life and Cheerios kid.

As an adult I’d have to say Lucky Charms, hands-down. Then again, as an adult, cereal isn’t a breakfast food anymore. It’s more of an evening snack kind of food. I can’t remember the last time I ate cereal for breakfast.

Thom

In the pitch blackness of the early morning hours, I’d wake to sounds of Daddy getting ready for haul. Laying in bed, tucked under flannel sheets and handmade quilts and grannie squared afghans, I’d muster up the courage to slip out onto the cold floor. The hiss of the cast iron radiator would let me know the heat had been turned up. Quickly donning my pink terry robe and slippers from the Sears Roebuck catalog, I cracked open the door and scurried down to the kitchen.

Momma would be flying around, making coffee, packing his lunchbox, filling his thermoses with hot cocoa and soup. Two leftover meatloaf sandwiches and a whoopie pie would be neatly wrapped in waxed paper and tucked into the steel gray hinge topped box.

Daddy, larger than life…layered for the long day on the water in waffle weave long johns, wool socks, flannel shirt, a hideous hand knit gold and seafoam green sweater vest, and a pair of corduroys, would be prepping his cereal.

“Susie Q…what you doing up?”

I’d shrug.

Taking down a bowl from the cupboard, I’d retrieve the lone biscuit from the white paper which previously held three. Daddy would be ripping and tearing his two into his bowl. Daintily, I’d break mine into neat little uniform pieces.

“Honey, it’s all going to the same place.”

Sugar bowl in hand, he’d sprinkle some on mine, and tip the hand a little too heavy on his.

The milk poured, we sat together at the kitchen table, waiting for it to get just the right amount of soggy. With each sip, steam from his coffee would repeatedly fog up his glasses.

“Think we’ve got time for a quick game of cribbage?”

Beaming…”yes Daddy.”

A. Lynn

Favorite cereal:  Cheerios at first, and then Cap’N Crunch, who’s not even a real Captain, or Cap’N cause he doesn’t have enough stripes.  I think I read somewhere that he’s actually a commander. Hmm, Commander Crunch? Nah, not feeling it.  The fact that someone took the time to research a character on a cereal box is both funny and disturbing, as is the fact that I not only remembered that fact, but also shared it..with no shame.  Anyway, I don’t eat cereal now, and I haven’t eaten Cheerios or Cap’N Crunch since I was about 13. #TheThrillisGone.

GR

My favorite cereal as a child was Fruity Pebbles. After pouring the milk, I would patiently wait a couple of minutes for the cereal to become a blissfully wonderful mix of crunchy and soggy pebbles as I proceeded to devour them one heaping spoonful at a time. I enjoyed both the texture and the taste as I ate each bite. Also, after I had chased every last stray pebble down with my spoon and consumed every one of them, I was left with a sweet, fruity flavored milk that I would drink from the bowl.

At age 41, Fruity Pebbles remains my favorite cereal for all the same reasons. I guess, when it comes to food anyway, I don’t grow tired of the same flavors and textures. I still indulge, on occasion, in a box of Fruity Pebbles that I will share with my two sons (9 and 6 yo). They have their own favorites, but they also enjoy my favorite when I go rogue and stray from the healthier choices that I typically try to consume on a more regular basis.

Barry

You can refer to me as “Cornflake Girl”. In addition to being my answer to your first question, it’s also a great Fiona Apple song, so instead of obsessing over what pseudonym I should use, I’m Just gonna go with Cornflake Girl.

Favorite cereal as a child was probably cornflakes. Or maybe Chex or Crispix, whatever my mom had bought at the time that was even relatively “normal”. My mom was older, and had fed into the whole organic gardening hippie health food movement of the ‘70s, so most of what she bought more resembled yard rakings than anything that would have a cartoon mascot trying to sell it to children. She refused to buy anything that had a sugar glaze, or frosting, or marshmallows, or toys, etc. “You don’t need all that sugar!”  Little did she know that we went to the sugar cannister on the countertop, the one she used when she was baking, and spooned no less than 1/4 cup of sugar directly onto her “healthy” cereal. So her strategy backfired in that respect. I only got to illicitly taste the other cereals, what I considered the GOOD stuff, when I was at friends’ houses on sleepovers. Hopefully none of *their* parents were having a crisis of health conscience and only eating Raisin Bran or something.

I really don’t eat cereal at all now. Trying to do low carb was the initial motivation with that. Whenever I do have a carb lapse it tends to be later in the day. I’m all about eggs for breakfast now. Maybe oatmeal was my favorite before I switched away from carbs. Or the Chex. Chex is and always will be pretty damn awesome.

Cornflake Girl

Fruity Pebbles, hands down, has always been my favorite cereal. Lucky Charms is great, but it’s just too much damn work separating out the marshmallows. I think I saw somewhere that they made a box of just the marshmallows, but that feels gluttonous somehow and I just don’t think I can get past that to actual enjoy it. So it’s Fruity Pebbles.

We never got them much as a kid. Mom always bought the economical cereals. Every once in a while, that beautiful box would show up. It never lasted long. But I appreciated it. And though my little girl brain couldn’t have articulated it, I know that cereal became equated with appreciation for the special things.

I moved out of my parents home the summer before my senior year of high school. I always had Fruity Pebbles, even if I didn’t have much else. It was walking distance from my parents’ house. One more than one occasion I woke up to find one of my sisters, usually the youngest, in front of my TV with a bowl of her very own. I did a lot of the things that most 17 year old kids would do if they lived on their own. My sisters always kept my secrets and I never complained about them eating my cereal. Back then, bribery is what I would have associated that box with. Now, I am able to recall how great it felt seeing my kid sisters enjoying something I was able to do for them all on my own – and the bribery.

Today, I could eat Fruity Pebbles any time I want. I don’t. In fact, I rarely do. I am always afraid I’ll mess up the nostalgia of the thing. It sounds bizarre to have such a crux of conscience over cereal, but I am a woman of many wonders and this is one of them. I wonder if keeping the nostalgia is better than enjoying the cereal. I wonder if I will still think it tastes as good as the last time I ate it. I wonder if I am over wondering all of it. So, unless the kids pick it (which they rarely do), neither do I. But the box still makes me smile.

April

Filed Under: Paraphernalia Tagged With: , ,

Asking the Questions

December 19, 2017 by

“Asking the proper question is the
central action of transformation…
Questions are the keys that cause
the secret doors of the psyche to swing open.”
~ Clarissa Pinkola Estes,
Women who Run with the Wolves

New Year’s Day is fast approaching. Weather notwithstanding, it is one of my favorite times of the year. While I do not think one particular square on the calendar is more conducive to setting the intention to do better than another, I do love the way January 1st kind of stands there, hands on hips, giving a great reason to try the hard things that shove us out of our comfort zone. In fact, it almost demands that we do so.

Over time, the dance on January 1st has had the tendency of being more cliche than the Electric Slide at a wedding reception. We all know it’s coming, we all know the steps (eat better, exercise more, quit a bad habit, pick up a good one, turn, and repeat). But most of us love it (at least until mid-January), get excited at the first beat, kick our shoes off, and jump on the dance floor. There are the others that refuse to participate. Their resolution on New Year’s Day is to make no resolutions. In a move that has become almost as banal as joining the fray, we sit in our chairs and side-eye the uninspired choreography.

I have been a proud member of both those groups. I am still super supportive of both approaches. I do love a line dance (even a really old one), and am one of the easiest people on the planet to get out on the dance floor. The need to do what makes us comfortable is not lost on me. When we do the best we can with what we have, we are living our best life.

But am I doing the best I can? And there it is. That was my one question that birthed a wealth of questions that, like January 1st, demanded attention. In truth, I have been asking that question my whole life. However, I was asking it from a place of fear. That place would only allow me to ask it in a shallow way and give the “well of course I am” answer. But of course I wasn’t. Once the question became, “Am I really doing the best I can?” things changed.

Today I want to encourage you to ask questions. Are you a “get up and dance”er or a “chill out and watch”er? Does that change? Why? Maybe your questions are completely different than mine. Maybe you need to create some new ones, revisit some old ones, phone a friend. But ask the questions. There may come a time when the answer makes us question the asking. The answer is hard and the work to process it is real. And, as in most things, the rewards for that kind of effort are great. We got this.

Thanks for the coffee,
~A

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: ,

If You Don’t Believe in God

December 7, 2017 by

I am Catholic. There are some who would argue with me because there are a lot of things about me that are very unCatholic. Well, they wouldn’t argue with me, they would argue at me as this is not a debate I would entertain. You don’t get to tell me what I am and what I am not. Folks are entitled to their opinion. To that I will simply say: 1) I am Catholic & 2) I am not perfect.

I have amazing relationships with folks all over the “what is the space made of” spectrum. The diversity of belief is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. It tells me that my faith is not programmed. It shows that the human brain is what I thought it was – special and unique. It shows that humans, at least as far as I can tell, are led by something more than biological programming.

This diversity also lends itself to interesting conversation concerning inclusivity, tolerance, connection, and the general Venn diagram of how non overlapping beliefs have overlapping consequences and are held by folks who require some kind of lap. (Yeah, I’m not even sure what I just did right there, but we are going with it.)

I had one such conversation today. We were discussing the idea held by some that love is nothing more than a biological reaction to hormonal stimulation. This coincided with a atheistic belief system.

I don’t believe that’s true. At least, I don’t believe the whole truth. I proposed a different idea.

I started with a fundamental belief that I have shared before – all emotions are rooted in and can be traced back to either love or fear. Additionally, I believe biology is real. I also believe that biology, while broad stroke standards exist, functions in the minutiae (which matters greatly) differently for each of us.

I also believe that there is an extraordinary characteristic to being human that is different from all other biology. I believe it cannot be tested explained, quantified, denied, or proved. I believe that is the soul. I believe that is God.

This conversation has been in my head the rest of this afternoon. There is a reconciliation that I have in my head that I am usually comfortable with. Occasionally however, I have to revisit. Conversations like these often require the reconsideration.

I believe in the God of the Bible. I believe in Jesus. I believe in the Red Letters.

I do not feel any kind of way with others who do not believe those things. I do not believe it is my job to convert them. I do not believe those things are required to be a good person. Moreover, I know that believing those things do not make you a good person. Assholes are assholes regardless of their relationship to theology or biology.

I realize there are red letter believers that disagree with me on this point. That I am soft or uncommitted. That I am turning a blind eye to the salvation of souls. That I am okay with damning people to hell because an earthly checklist has not been followed. To them I say they should reconsider how comfortable they feel holding that kind of opinion so far outside of their paygrade. I’m not privy to the Trinitarian annual board meetings. I don’t pretend to begin to know how all that works. All I do know for certain is Jesus always loved and he was never afraid (no, I don’t think fear was the motivator in the garden of Gethsemane) and he let God’s business be God’s business. Oh, and he loved his momma and daddy. So I do those things and leave the rest up to who’s really in charge.

I realize there are those who find faith and belief in God to be a ready characteristic for ridicule, condescension, and judgement. To them I say welcome to the world of the asshole proselytizer that you claim to hate. The message is different. The behavior is exactly the same. And trust me, it sounds the same and is just as effective when you do it.

I am still noodling an slip of an idea that I have that suggests that hypersensitivity and shallow judgement are directly proportional to manufactured diversity, but I don’t have it all flushed out yet. What I am pretty confident in is that if we continue to scream diversity and conversation while beating alternative thoughts until lips are swollen shut, we lose connection.

The truth is, was a time in my life I wouldn’t have had that conversation or written this post due to fear of offending. This is not the only topic that sparks that type of reaction and most people I know have those things they are not comfortable talking about for that very reason. Consider the wealth of ideas and progress we have effectively burned down because our pearl clutch barometer is set to “everydamnthing.”

So this is me opening up a discussion about religion, ideology, belief structure. I used to talk politics all the time. Maybe sex will be next.

 

Picture from http://davidshrigley.com

Filed Under: The Thinking Chair Tagged With: ,

Avoiding The Crack Up

November 28, 2017 by

[…] the test of a first-rate intelligence is
the ability to hold two opposed ideas in the mind
at the same time,
and still retain the ability to function.

F. Scott Fitzgerald,
The Crack-Up

This, one of my all time favorite quotes, read like the first time for me today and became new again. I love it when they do that.

When I first came across this Fitzgerald gem, it resonated quickly as I was engaging in a civil disagreement over matters of social and political opinion. I really enjoy those types of conversations with people who know how to have them; people who can hear and consider the idea of another yet still hold their own thought and give both their just due.

A few days ago I had a really rough time finding my center, my groove, my chill – whatever it is you call it when you are overall really fine, there is no major or even minor, crisis, but something about your day is just a tinky bit off kilter (I’d love to hear what you call that).

After some really involved, and frankly overly dramatic, self “what if” statements, I determined I was feeling over stimulated. And bored. And resentful. And thankful. And neglected. And cared for. And lonely. And loved. My hitch was that I had found myself unable to retain the ability to function while evaluating the truth hidden in the myriad of opposing feelings. I was unable to give myself permission to have conflicting feelings at all.

I do not believe all feelings are truth. I do believe all feelings are indicative of a truth. There’s a difference. I had gotten so caught up in defending the need to feel centered and “normal”, that I had became unable to process the alternative idea that there was a bit of internal information processing that really needed to happen. The harder I was on myself, the more I berated myself for being ridiculous or too much, the worse the situation became. The opposing idea was not just going to go away. It was there. It needed to be heard, understood, and moved through.

Today I want to encourage you appreciate your ability to consider opposing ideas – may they be yours or someone else’s. The act of doing so does not make us weak, wishy washy, soft, manipulable, too much, uncommitted, or any other manner of discreditable thing you may say to yourself. Being able to function while doing so creates space for relationship, connection, and growth – may that be yours or someone else’s.

Filed Under: Turn Around Tuesday Tagged With: , ,