Category Archives: Denial

Grateful👀Gaze

Posted on by under Aging, American Dream, Angels on Earth, Asking for help, Courage, Damage Control, Depression, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief relief, hope, humor, I need a miracle, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Long-Term Coping Strategies, Mental Health, Mental Health, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, Positive Change, Problem Solving, Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Simple Pleasures of Life, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, Turmoil, Unconditional Love, Unsung Heroes, Vulnerability

A few blog posts ago, I had written about my ophthalmologist.

To recap, I learned that the doctor had faced serious sexual assault charges, including allegations involving a minor in 2020. I was unable to find out the final verdict, and it appeared that the records had been sealed.

As I said in my previous blog post, “On the one hand, I’ve never had any personal experience with him that would make me think he’s guilty of any criminal acts. On the other hand, I’m a half person, and, as already mentioned, I guard myself fiercely and certainly don’t intend to invite any more stress than necessary into my life.”

The incident left me shaken, and my mind began to wander down dark paths. I felt angry and self-righteous, wondering how people who did commit such heinous acts could get away with it. This was the final straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to my faith in people.

To backtrack, I started seeing the doctor in question two years ago after receiving a postcard advertising his services. Prior to that, I had been going to an optometrist for routine eye exams for over a decade. Optometrists are not medical doctors and cannot perform surgery, unlike ophthalmologists, who specialize in the diagnosis and treatment of eye diseases and vision problems.

Mind you, I had NO eye problems, but I switched to an ophthalmologist last year thinking that a doctor with more credentials would be better. To make matters worse, the new doctor found that my eye pressure was elevated during my routine eye exam this year. I didn’t learn about the incriminating information about him until after my appointment, when I had a month to wait for my follow-up visit.

So, my imagination ran even more wild. I obsessed about going blind without a doctor “in sight.”

I called my old optometrist, Dr. S., with my tail between my legs. She held no resentments against me and scheduled an appointment for me within the week.

Upon entering her office, she did not inquire about the reasons for my sudden departure or my return, nor did she probe me about my “personal reasons” for not going back to the other doctor. Instead, she focused on running a battery of tests on me.

I sat in a chair that felt as if it were getting harder by the minute, waiting for the final results. I thought about all the people in the universe who were at that very moment waiting, waiting in a doctor’s office or hospital, waiting to receive some catastrophic medical results that could potentially turn their neatly made worlds into a tsunami that would leave nothing unharmed and shaken.

I had spent so much time in the past “learning to breathe,” but now I had totally forgotten how.

On the verge of passing out from lack of oxygen, I inhaled sharply at the sight of a white cat with gray patches poking its head into the examination room. The cat was so pudgy that I wondered how it could fit inside a litter box. Its face was slightly askew, and when I got off the chair and reached for it, it darted away, only to return out of curiosity.

“Kitty! Kitty!” I called.

“I guess you met Marlon.”

“Yes.” My reply was followed by my long pause of anticipation.

Without further ado, Dr. S. explained everything I ever wanted to know about eye pressure, including the fact that eye pressure ranges could change in a course of a day. In the end, she told me that there was nothing wrong with my eyes.

“Really?” I asked in total relief.

I had been sickened by all the bad in the world as of late, but I knew that I would rather see it than be blind to it. I needed to be aware of the world’s problems in order to make a difference. Now, I was breathing with a familiar comfort again, relieved to know that there were still some good eggs out there.

Marlon jumped onto Dr. S’s floral skirt at this point, his gaze fixed on her soft-featured face and brown hair. It came as no surprise that she had rescued him, as she had rescued so many other cats over the many years I knew her.

Marlon was different, though. He was a sweet and loving feral cat that she had rescued after an animal rescue organization said he would never be domesticated. But she did it!

The cat was first named Marla by Dr. S. when “she” had initially appeared at her back door office bleeding from a slashed-up face. Dr. S. named her after Marla Hanson, the 80s model who had been a victim of a slashing attack instigated by her landlord in 1986.

Soon after, Marla became Marlon and was nursed back to health, neutered, and domesticated against all odds by Dr. S.

Marlon’s safe home for the last few years has been Dr. S’s office, since three other rescues live at her home. Marlon is locked inside at night and comes and goes as he pleases during the day.

On a couple of different occasions, the sweet and loving cat has brought a few kitten rescues to the good doctor.

“Kittens are always easy to place,” she told me as she explained the wonderful world of Marlon.

World? At least on this territory. Marlon and the good doctor helped me to remember that there are still good people in the world. I’m just grateful to SEE them and to SEE the not-so-good and the awful lot of awful too.

After hitting some of my lowest points recently, following nearly four years as a halved person, I left the doctor’s office clicking my heels, my renewed sense of faith purring throughout my body.

Faith Muscle

The Power of Community: Thank You for Filling the Void

Posted on by under 12-Step Program, a spiritual life, Angels on Earth, Asking for help, Birthdays, Courage, Dealing with special occasions, Depression, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Embrace Change, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Friendships, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief relief, hope, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Long-Term Coping Strategies, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Simple Pleasures of Life, Sing a new song, Soul Food, special occasions, Struggles, Suicide Loss Survivors, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, Unconditional Love, Vulnerability

My therapist Louis has taught me that when you take something out of your life, you need to replace it. In my case, I had to give up my 12-step support group due to PTSD, but I found a new support system in my blog community.

I’ve been blogging for over 10 years, and it’s become a lifeline for me. When I’m feeling down, I can always count on my readers to offer words of encouragement and support. They’ve helped me to feel less alone and more connected, and they’ve given me the courage to share my story in a safe space.

My birthday last week was a tough one, but your messages (& Judy — thanks for your email!) really helped me get through it. I’m so grateful for your kindness and support. Thank you for filling in the colors of faith into the empty lines. You make it possible.

Faith Muscle

Stayin’ Alive

Posted on by under Affirmations, Aging, American Dream, Angels on Earth, Asking for help, Birthdays, Courage, Dealing with special occasions, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Family, Friendships, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, grief relief, Healing of Memories, hope, humor, I need a miracle, inner voice, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Simple Pleasures of Life, Sing a new song, Soul Food, special occasions, Struggles, Suicide Loss Survivors, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, Unconditional Love, Vulnerability

As midnight approached last Saturday night, I felt like a broken-down, aging Cinderella. Instead of a pumpkin coach carriage, I reclined inside a rickshaw, glowing with strung neon blue glitter lights, a “Good Vibes” sign fluttering behind my wind-swept hair.

My Unplanned Rickshaw Ride

The familiar discomania tune “Stayin’ Alive” blasted on a continuous reel as the lean but powerful driver pedaled, snaking and snarling through the prism-lit, panoramic nighttime streets from the west side to our destination, Grand Central Terminal in New York City.

If you know me personally, you know two things: 1. I’m always reading a book of fiction. 2. I’m always mentally plotting a work of fiction. This past Saturday night, I felt like the unfolding scene created its own book of fiction.

Along our route, the driver expertly avoided a few near-collisions, including a head-on accident with a cab driver when he made a U-turn to drop me off right in front of Grand Central.

Stayin’ Alive was also the theme song of the day as the driver helped me power through a very unfortunate set of circumstances. It all started that morning with last-minute plans to stay overnight in New Jersey, where I had arrived by train from Connecticut. However, after a series of misunderstandings and mix-ups, by 9:30 pm, I had nixed those plans and, without another plan, boarded a train that I nicknamed “Tipsy Tracks” to Penn Station in New York City. I was exhausted when I arrived at Penn Station. I didn’t want to deal with the subway, so I tried to flag a taxi. I had a fairly new phone and had never gotten around to downloading the Uber app, and I was too tired to think straight enough to download it at the time.

Although all the taxis seemed off-duty or unavailable, a dirty brown mid-sized SUV suddenly zoomed out of the traffic and stopped directly in front of my rather dejected body, as the shadow of another birthday loomed three days ahead.

“Want a ride to Grand Central?” asked the rather innocent-looking man in his mid-40s, angling his body toward the passenger seat. He had clearly overheard me flagging down taxis.

I was exhausted and my legs were starting to ache, so I was tempted to just jump in his backseat. But then I remembered an ominous book I had read a few months ago, and the scene felt vaguely familiar.

“Who are you?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.

“Uber,” he said.

“Uber? I don’t have the app. I didn’t call you,” I replied.

“I’m off duty. I’ll take you to Grand Central for cash.”

I felt a glimmer of hope. I was tired and getting older, and I was ready for an easy way out. I felt as if I were a half person as I had written about in my last blog.

But then I remembered the name of the novel: Disappearing Earth by Julia Phillips.

The book begins with two young girls accepting a ride home from a stranger and then going missing.

I wasn’t a girl, but I was still vulnerable, an easy target.

“I don’t see any Uber ID,” I said. “No thanks.”

As the man pulled away, I noticed that the entire back end of his car was dented, including his Pennsylvania license plate. This was an ominous sign for me since Pennsylvania is one of my least favorite states due to its high number of puppy mills, which include those operated by the Amish.

The next vehicle that came by was a rickshaw with a couple in the backseat. My spirits fell, thinking that maybe I had to have a reservation to ride in one, since I had never ridden in a rickshaw in NYC or anywhere else. That was when I spotted another one that resembled a floating disco ball with a vacant seat.

“Excuse me …” I hollered to the driver, “Can you take me to Grand Central …”

Once the driver and I bargained and agreed on a rate (even in the midst of stress, I still hold tight to my frugal nature), the adventure began.

The ride was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. The driver, as I mentioned, took some pretty crazy shortcuts, but he got me to the train station safe and sound. If I had accepted the ride earlier from the stranger in the SUV, by the time my birthday rolled away, I might have been one of the many missing people, hacked up and buried underneath some rural Pennsylvania soil.

I thanked him for helping me “stay alive” and wished him well, especially considering his daredevil pedaling.

“Hope you stay alive too!” I called out sarcastically to him before I ran into the station and managed to grab a train home to Connecticut. My dear friend Camille, whom I called earlier, was waiting for my 1:45 a.m. arrival at the station. (A true friend is someone who is always there for you, no matter what, especially in the wee hours of the morning!)

Interestingly, today is the big day, but it really means nothing to me anymore. However, Bryan’s comment made me think twice about the blog I wrote last week. He said, “I often wonder if the reason I feel halved is because I moved away from what I found meaningless.”

Although I identify as a half person for other reasons, this made me widen my perspective and think that maybe I have found a new meaning in life after all. And maybe this meaning doesn’t need a meaning because it just is. It’s like being in a rickshaw at a climactic point in your novel of life, not knowing what’s coming around the bend.

As I plan to meet Brother Paul later today and then my dear daughter and her boyfriend, the kids’ godmother, and possibly a few others, I can’t help but smile, knowing that I’ve received my wish: a very low-key birthday after all.

So, as I mark my birthday today, I am grateful for the people who have loved and supported me along the way, including all my fellow bloggers. They have been my neon-lit rickshaws through those saturnine nights that cast a pall over my world, making it seem like a lonely place of ghosts and shadows.

I know that I am not alone in experiencing these dark times. But I also know that we can all find light, hope, and faith, even in the darkest of places. We can find community and connection, as well as developing the strength to pedal through as long as we trust our gut and don’t get into just any stranger’s vehicle.

Faith Muscle

Halved World

Posted on by under a spiritual life, A Writer's Life, Aging, American Dream, Birthdays, Courage, Dealing with special occasions, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Family, Friendships, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, Growing Up, Healing of Memories, hope, I need a miracle, inner voice, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Letting Go, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Sing a new song, Soul Food, special occasions, Struggles, Suicide Loss Survivors, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, Unconditional Love, Vulnerability

Smart. Cute. Not-so-cute. We all have inner self-identifiers.

We all have ways of defining ourselves, whether consciously or unconsciously. We might think of ourselves as smart, funny, kind or brave. We might also think of ourselves as less than perfect, with flaws and limitations.

A few weeks ago, I started to understand all on my own that I am now a “half person” as opposed to the whole person I once was before our family tragedy. For me, I find it very empowering to define myself in this manner.

I used to be afraid of my limitations. I thought they made me weak and inadequate. But now I see them as a source of strength. They’ve taught me to be more realistic about my expectations and to appreciate the things I can do.

Looking back, I appreciate even more the time I spent watching the aging process of my parents. As they grew older, they became acutely aware of their limitations. For instance, after my dad’s retirement at 70, he used to be able to work about eight hours a day in the garden. But as he grew older, he cut his gardening back to a daily hour or two. My dad would come into the house after gardening, his face, the color of the beets he grew in the rich soil, and dripping from sweat, and announce with conviction, “I’m not so good anymore.”

There wasn’t a hint of self-pity in his tone. Instead, it sounded as if he had landed at a new place in life, and he opened his arms wide with acceptance. He left me with a poignant picture of what it means “to age gracefully.”

That place parallels with how I feel about being a half person. I’ve retired from my Atlas position of holding up the world, and now I just lean into it.

I used to think I had to be strong and capable all the time. I needed to be the Atlas of my family and friends, holding up the world for them too. But now I know I can’t do that. I’m just a half person, and that’s okay.

Given this new state, I am proactive and fiercely protective of myself. I’m not going to let anyone take advantage of me or make me feel bad about myself and how I feel. Walking on egg shells is becoming an impossible feat for me.

For obvious reasons, I steer clear of the real-life nemesis in my life and others who fall into that category. Right now I’m not up to exposure therapy of any form. And just because that particular therapy is not in the cards at the moment, it may be at another time.

Anyway, all this being said, I want to address two things.

First, I recently learned that my eye doctor had faced some serious sexual assault criminal charges in 2020. I’m still processing the information and at the current time, I have no updates about the crimes, which also allegedly included a minor. On the one hand, I’ve never had any personal experience with him that would make me think he’s guilty of any criminal acts. On the other hand, I’m a half person, and, as already mentioned, I guard myself fiercely and certainly don’t intend to invite any more stress than necessary into my life.

Second, my birthday is coming up next Tuesday. I’m really not looking forward to it. I wasn’t too thrilled about my birthday before I became a half person, but now it’s utterly meaningless. I used to be afraid of growing old and becoming wrinkled and frightful, but now I couldn’t care less. So it’s not about growing old and falling out of grace. It’s about staying in grace, which means being true to myself, and, to me, the day symbolizes just another day of the year.

So, here’s what I’m going to do on my birthday. I’m going to be alone. I’m going to minister to my half person. I’m going to be honest with myself and with others, the way I used to be with my son. He would always listen to me without judgment, and he would always say, “That sucks!” I miss that.

My life as a half person has made me surrender so much unnecessary energy. It has also made me realize that nothing has the same meaning as it used to. Everything is vanilla now. But I’m okay with that, too, and vanilla has always been one of my favorite flavor choices.

I do, however, find meaning in other people’s lives and in the joy they find. It fills my empty vessel with hope and faith. I know that I’ve been passed up for a number of invitations over the years because people see me as a walking image of pain. But I don’t take it personally. I’m grateful for the joys I’ve had the opportunity to share in, such as my dear friend Pat’s 85th birthday surprise party in 2020. It was a time of such raw pain, but it was also a time of great joy. I remember Pat’s radiant joy, and I felt her deep connection and compassion for life, however fleeting it was for me. These are the moments that get me through my vanilla life. These are the moments that make it all worth it.

I’m not sure what the future holds for me. I may never find meaning in life again. But I’m okay with that too. I’m content to live my life in vanilla, as long as I have the occasional cherry on top.

Faith Muscle

Freewheeling Prayers

Posted on by under a spiritual life, A Writer's Life, Affirmations, Aging, American Dream, Angels on Earth, Courage, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Family, Fellowship, Friendships, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, grief relief, Grieving, Growing Up, Healing of Memories, hope, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Letting Go, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Suicide Loss Survivors, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, Unconditional Love, Vulnerability, zen

Last Monday night, the weather was perfect, having cooled down after a stifling heatwave, when Santana and his band took the stage at 8 p.m. sharp at the nearly sold-out 1001 Rainbows, 2023 Tour, performance at the Hartford HealthCare Amphitheater in Bridgeport, Connecticut. I attended the concert with Anna, one of my dearest friends since childhood.

Oye Como Va! The show started off with a bang and the energy immediately electric. Carlos Santana’s guitar playing was as virtuosic as ever, and the band’s backing vocals sounded soulful and soaring.

The setlist was a mix of Santana’s greatest hits, and some from the band’s latest album, Blessings and Miracles. We were treated to classics like “Smooth,” “Maria Maria,” and “Evil Ways,” as well as newer songs like “Joy.”

As the concert went on, Carlos announced to the audience that he felt Jerry Garcia, among others, playing alongside him. I had a strong sense of my deceased brother Mike and me singing together again in a dingy, off-the-beaten-track bar in Tallahassee, Florida, our voices gliding through the air as if the seventies would never end.

Years fade, and with them, people and some of their talents. But Carlos remains one of the greatest guitarists of all time, and his band members are also masters of their craft. I was also particularly impressed by the drummer, Cindy Blackman Santana.

She’s been married to Carlos since 2010. All I can say is, her drumming blew us and the audience away. She played with such passion and intensity that it felt like a supernatural experience. I kid you not, I had goosebumps during her solo acts.

The Wikipedia article about her states: “Blackman cultivates spirituality in her musicianship. “I believe that music is so sacred that once you’re playing music you are doing the work of prayer, whether you’re conscious of it or not, because you have a focused intent,” says Blackman.

Hearing her and the band was holier than a prayer. On one hand, it brought everybody together, and I mean, EVERYBODY, including elders who danced the night away while donning cataract surgery sunglasses. What really struck me was the sight of a quadriplegic man who appeared to be in his thirties. He was stationed in his wheelchair on the upper level of the theater. The man could only move his head slightly, but had no facial expression.

I was really touched by this man’s determination to enjoy the concert despite his significant challenges. Then I wondered how he felt watching other audience members out of their seats, dancing, singing, and moving in perfect harmony with the music, flowing along with the oxygen.

I didn’t know if he was envious of the movement, or, on the other hand, simply savoring the sights, sounds, and tasting every moment like snacking on a buttery concoction.

At first, I thought how lucky the rest of us were to have mobility, until I realized maybe he was the lucky one. I liked to believe that he didn’t rush from one thing to the next, consumed to the point of falling in step with the armies of walking mummies, failing to appreciate simple things like a soft breeze brushing against a pair of moving limbs.

Perhaps this particular man piqued my curiosity because grief is an isolating experience, especially for me. It can be easy to feel like you’re the only one going through it, out of sync with the rest of the world (even if they are walking mummies!). As I scanned the venue, it appeared that the young man really was the only one in a wheelchair, but I hoped that the music would connect us all in the same spiritual way that Cindy feels it, in a miraculous way that would flush out our disunion and differences.

It was interesting to see Anna’s reaction when Cindy first performed her solo drum act. She shouted out, “She’s a woman!” in a way that said, “Yes, sister! We can do anything.”

Cindy Blackman Santana

Later, Carlos made a point to say that many men have passed out from drumming in the vigorous manner that Cindy is able to.

Wikipedia’s article further defines Cindy as “a rarity as a female jazz percussionist.”

It goes on to quote her, “In the past, there were a lot of stigmas attached to women playing certain instruments,” Blackman says. “Any woman, or anyone facing race prejudice, weight prejudice, hair prejudice … if you let somebody stop you because of their opinions, then the only thing you’re doing is hurting yourself. I don’t want to give somebody that power over me.”

The keyword in her quote is “power.” There’s a loaded definition behind that word, but when we pray in the purest spiritual realm, we transcend feelings of exclusion, rejection and not belonging. As a result, hair, nails, body image – the physical plane melts, sort of like in harmony with a slow, fluid dance. That’s the power of music, a special prayer to turn to for comfort. There’s something about the combination of lyrics and melody that can reach into the soul and make you feel less alone. And when I see someone, such as the quadriplegic man at Santana’s concert, who has pushed through what people can define as limitations, and reigns over his own power of thought, it reminds me that there is always hope.

Music is a universal language that brings people together from all walks – and wheels – of life. It doesn’t matter if you’re able-bodied or not, young or old, rich or poor. Music has the power to connect us all, and it can be a powerful tool for healing and hope. In this way, it is the most powerful prayer of all.

Faith Muscle

Daring Duo

Posted on by under Courage, Depression, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Dreams, Embrace Change, emotions, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Family, Fellowship, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief relief, Grieving, Growing Up, Healing of Memories, heartbreak, hope, humor, I need a miracle, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Letting Go, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Long-Term Coping Strategies, Loss of a Child, Lost youth, Meeting your needs, Mental Health, Mental Health, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, Nightmares, one day at a time, Out of Order Death, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Problem Solving, PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), Relationships, Sacred Space, Safe Space, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serendipity, Serene-diptious Moments, Sing a new song, sorrow, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Suicide Loss Survivors, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, trauma, Turmoil, Unconditional Love, Unsung Heroes, Vulnerability, What you resist persists, zen

In Memory of Sinéad O’Connor, 1966-2023

For years, my mom and I had a daily telephone ritual. When she called, her words, “How are you?” would slam me right through the phone like a bowling ball hitting a strike.

“Fine!” I would reply.

Things were never fine with my mom. Never. And, sooner or later, she’d push, and I’d be cornered into telling her the truth about what was really going on in our household, whether it involved the car breaking down or my kids losing their lunch money. Interestingly, I felt better after unloading the daily grievances.

Then my mom would often complain about the behavior of a few people — sometimes including me. She had her favorite targets, and I would sometimes find her complaints humorous, while other times I found them downright mean. But I always listened, because it would eventually turn out that she was right. At least 99% of the time.

It was as if she had a special lens that detected everyone’s flaws. She didn’t hold back; she was always honest, even if it was painful to hear. Admittedly, I spent years trying to hush her up, soften and polish her, but she continued to speak her mind. Period.

Finally, after I had children of my own, I eased up on my mom and gave her the space she needed to be herself. In fact, I owe a great debt to my children, because they were the ones who taught me just how endearing my mom was despite all her imperfections. Once I could step back from my own expectations and give her the space, I saw her humor, her creativity, and her incredible insights and sparks — many, many sparks! I was able to change my behavior toward her by asking myself the question, “Who was I to kill her spirit?”

Over the years, as I experienced betrayal and deception from others in my life, I appreciated my mom even more. She was my anchor, because I always knew where I stood with her.

As I backed off and eased up on my judgments of her, she learned the importance of tact and discretion on her own. She learned that sometimes, it’s better to say nothing at all. And this resulted from my not intervening and trying to mold her character in my image!

What I appreciate most about my mom is that she taught me the importance of having a voice by her own example. She was who she was, flaws and all.

I reflected a lot on my mom last week after I heard that Sinéad O’Connor had passed away. You wouldn’t think that the two women had much in common, but they shared a solidarity of pain and a few other things that connected them.

Anyway, I heard the news on the radio while I was driving in the car. “We have some sad news. The great Irish singer, Sinéad O’Connor, has passed away,” the news anchor announced. “She was 56 years old.”

My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as I listened to the report. A wave of shock and sadness washed over me. I pulled over to the side of the road and started crying. As much as I couldn’t believe it, it was something I had worried about after the talented woman’s son, Shane, had died by suicide a year ago.

I felt as if I had lost yet another partner in our solidarity in pain. I sat there for a few minutes, just crying and listening to her music that the station started to play in a tribute to the late singer. No denying, she was a spitfire, but she was so much more.

Often when people hurt and grieve, they fall deeply inward. What never ceased to amaze me was how during her grief journey, Sinéad did not forget about other mothers who were in her position. She may have suffered from grief and mental illnesses, but she made room to remember others who hurt.

If you could look past her infamous moments, many of which were misunderstood and none of which she regretted, Sinéad O’Connor was a lifelong advocate for the vulnerable and, in essence, gave so many people faith and hope. In fact, during one of her interviews, she said she wanted her concerts to represent a church for some audience members, a place where they could find faith and hope.

I thought about how many people she had helped over the years. She had given them a voice, a platform, and a sense of community. She had shown them that they were not alone, and that they were worthy of love and respect.

Our society often encourages people to have diverse voices, stands and opinions. However, it is also true that people who speak out against the status quo, especially against the principles of the norm, often face backlash. Sinéad, like my mom, spoke their truth, even in the face of opposition. My dear friend Kit always reminded me that it’s easy to blend in with the crowd, but it takes real courage to be the lone voice of dissent.

Taking a deep breath, I started the car. I would go home and listen to Sinéad’s music some more. I would cry some more, but I would also remember the times when I was young and single, feeling as if I were the only person on Earth. But when I turned on the radio and heard Sinéad’s voice, I found the strength to not only keep moving, but to even kick up my heels and dance.

I imagined Sinéad, hopefully, finally at peace alongside her beloved son. I saw her calling it the way she saw it, in the company of my mom, their spitfire spirits floating around, sparking their own brand of music, driving everybody batty but never backing down.

I knew that the two spitfire figures would continue to inspire me, even in death. They had taught me the importance of speaking my truth, even when it was difficult. They taught me that it was okay to be different and that it was possible to find strength in your pain.

Faith Muscle

Stop “Shoulding”

Posted on by under 12-Step Program, a spiritual life, Affirmations, Aging, American Dream, Courage, Crisis, Death, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Dreams, Embrace Change, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Fellowship, Fourth Dimension, Good over evil, Gratitude, hope, inner voice, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Long-Term Coping Strategies, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, Problem Solving, Relationships, Safe Space, Self-Care, self-value, Serene-diptious Moments, Simple Pleasures of Life, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, zen

Have you ever had an experience with someone who seems to know you better than you know yourself? That’s how I feel when I encounter my neighbor Eli Louise who constantly seems to fold herself into my stratosphere like a bur on your ankle socks that you can’t loosen no matter how hard you pull at it. She has no idea about me or my life, but within seconds after running into her yesterday, she was setting forth directives that she deemed were tailored to my needs.

A.YOU should retire. B. YOU should sell your house. C. YOU should move into a condo.

I work hard not to take Eli Louise personally. She “shoulds” all over everyone she meets.

Before I offered a reply to her momentous pronouncements, I felt the solid ground beneath my feet. I looked her in the eyes. To summarize what I said, it basically amounted to something like people who feel out of control internally often try to regain a sense of control by controlling the people and situations around them.

After I said this, she immediately shifted the conversation to lamenting about the people she had met the previous weekend. Fortunately, I managed to escape the situation and her tornado of toxicity.

Surprisingly, gratitude managed to penetrate my ruffled state. I realized that despite her attempts to sound superior, I knew that I was the one who was truly fortunate. She may have thought she was the one reaping the benefits of wealth and retirement, but I had a different perspective. I intrinsically knew that true peace of the mind could not be bought or obtained through the material world. True peace is an inner state of being that must be cultivated from within.

How? By making a conscious choice and decision on a daily basis to stay close to our true selves, away from the chaos of everyday life. It also helps to stay clear of those who “should” all over us. They are not helpers. They distract us from what truly matters by flooding us with their own insecurities.

And so, there I was after my brief encounter, feeling pressured to feel “I should” live up to certain standards of success and happiness. In my fury, I planned to write a seething blog post about Eli Louise and describe the indignation of being judged by a self-righteous person, and how it felt infuriating and demoralizing. I also wanted to explore why judgmental people are only a reflection of themselves and how to deal with them.

But then I asked myself, “WHY? WHY invest the time and energy to focus on negative forces?”

I mean, it’s easy to get overwhelmed by the Eli Louises in the world. However, with a little faith, we can shift our perspective and fill our lives with meaning instead of siphoning our spirits with the “shoulds.”

Besides writing a blog post focused solely on my negative emotions regarding Eli Louise, I decided how I could incorporate my feelings and use them as an opportunity for personal growth. However, I procrastinated and put off writing by going on FB, which I rarely do and, lo and behold, I found the following image that perfectly encapsulated the next steps for me to take.

The rest of the day I spent in a scavenger hunt style, combing through the trash and panning for gold – the things that truly matter in my life, such as writing this blog post as I wore my Bombas socks that my childhood friend, Anna, had sent me as a “Just Because” gift this past winter. Sipping a freshly brewed cup of steaming coffee that was so pure, I easily imagined the smooth beans cooling my palms as I held the cup in my hands.

I was further rewarded to get to bask in the sun’s rays in my home office and feel the sturdy winds from the open window that moved around me – forces at work in the world that reminded me how they were beyond my control. The realization made me appreciate the beauty of nature, and its power to bring a sense of solitude and peace to my life – even without the luxury of retirement.

Faith Muscle

Nitrogen 4 U

Posted on by under 12-Step Program, a spiritual life, Affirmations, Courage, Crisis, Death, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Dreams, Embrace Change, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Fellowship, Fourth Dimension, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, grief relief, hope, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Living through death, Long-Term Coping Strategies, Meeting your needs, mindfulness, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, Problem Solving, Relationships, Safe Space, Self-Care, self-value, Serene-diptious Moments, Simple Pleasures of Life, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, transparency, zen
Image by Miranda from Pixabay

Last week when I took my car in for service, I decided to spend an extra thirty dollars to fill the four new tires I purchased with nitrogen instead of air. For me, my car is especially meaningful because it was originally my son’s. He started the tradition of taking special care of this car, which he bought shortly before his passing, and I am proud to carry it on in his memory.

The service manager, Darren, who is likely the age my son would have been, had asked me if I wanted to continue using nitrogen in the new tires the mechanic was putting on my car. He explained that nitrogen, unlike air, is a much more stable gas and is less affected by temperature swings. Other gases, alternately, expand with heat and contract with cold, causing the tire pressure warning light to come on when colder fall temperatures hit. Nitrogen is becoming increasingly popular in the tire industry as it can help to extend the life of tires and to improve their performance.

In the moment of agreeing to the question at hand, I spontaneously added that we should all get a spurt of nitrogen inside us. This statement may have seemed random and out of place, but it actually was a reflection of my belief. When we take the time to reflect on our values and beliefs, we create a sense of balance that helps us maintain a harmony within ourselves regardless of what happens in the world around us. It may feel impossible at times, but with a little faith, anything is possible. At least, this is what I started learning nearly 39 years ago.

Image by WikimediaImages from Pixabay

Darren was taken aback by my suggestion. He paused to consider what I had said and after a few moments, his face lit up with delight as he replied, “You’re right.” Then he added, “You know nitrogen makes up a part of the air we breathe.”

After we both reflected on the concept, he turned around and bee-lined back to his work area. This instance was an example of how even the smallest moments can have a profound impact on our lives.

While sitting alone in the waiting room, I heard guests on a TV talk show in the adjoining room shout and spew insults at one another. At once, I contemplated nitrogen with a new set of appreciative eyes. I thought about how rhythmic breathing is a powerful tool for managing stress and anxiety. It can help us to accept life’s challenges, foster resilience, and cultivate peace of mind.

Since I was four years old, reading a variety of books has been an integral part of who I am today. Thanks to my dear friend Bruce, who in the 80s introduced me to a book, Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, that profoundly influenced me. The book was published in 1946 and chronicled the author’s experiences as an inmate in the Auschwitz concentration camp during World War II. This book provided me with an insight into the power of resilience and the strength of the human spirit. Frankl’s idea that our greatest freedom is the ability to choose our attitude at any instance in life has always resonated with me. It serves as a reminder that we have the power to choose how we respond to any situation, no matter how heart-shattering it may be. I always imagine Frankl escaping the atrocities around him by playing a birdsong in his mind, and experiencing a moment of peace and joy by tapping into his imagination that broke through and penetrated his reality.

Below is a quote from the book in which the author silently converses with his wife in his head.

The guard passed by, insulting me, and once again I communed with my beloved. More and more I felt that she was present, that she was with me; I had the feeling that I was able to touch her, able to stretch out my hand and grasp hers. The feeling was very strong: she was there. Then, at that very moment, a bird flew down silently and perched just in front of me, on the heap of soil which I had dug up from the ditch, and looked steadily at me.

The more I thought about Frankl and all the other random ideas, the more I realized the metaphor of how nitrogen works and how we can also take in the hardships of life and breathe out peace. It is the balance of our wheels, both physical and metaphorical, that gives us the strength to keep rolling even when the sky falls like a sharp shard of ice in the split center of our head.

Faith Muscle

Faithfully Fluid

Posted on by under 12-Step Program, a spiritual life, Affirmations, Aging, American Dream, Career, Courage, Crisis, Death, Depression, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Dreams, Embrace Change, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Fellowship, Fourth Dimension, Friendships, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, Healing of Memories, heartbreak, hope, illness, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Letting Go, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Meeting your needs, Mental Health, Mental Health, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Problem Solving, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serene-diptious Moments, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, Total Control, transparency, Turmoil, Unconditional Love, Unsung Heroes, Vulnerability, zen

Last week in my blog post, I elaborated on my mom’s wise words of wisdom: “You never know how someone’s end will be.”

Sometimes my mom also reminded me, “We never know how our end will be.”

In other words, it is easy to get carried away by the trappings of success in life. Whether it is a successful career, a good job, or material things like a new car or house, how fast we can grow complacent and think that we have achieved all that we need to. However, staying humble and never getting too comfortable with our current situation is essential for continued success in life. I strive to stay grounded and remember that nothing in this world lasts forever. In this way, I am able to appreciate the good times while also being mindful of the bad times and knowing how quickly things can change.

For me, it all begins with my EGO. At the heart, EGO can often be the source of both our strength for self-improvement and our downfall. Whenever I find myself getting too caught up in my own ego, I take a step back and reflect on how my actions are affecting others and myself. Typically, the first step of the process is reminding myself that EGO is an acronym for Edging God Out or Edging Goodness Out (depending on the preference), and it calls to mind the concept of the importance of being humble and kind.

Despite spending nearly four decades honing my skills and training in the “ego gym,” it’s still easy for me to get caught up in the pursuit of recognition and validation. I’ve discovered that ego-driven behavior does not lead to true success or fulfillment. It’s important to recognize that I, as well as everyone else, have something valuable to offer, regardless of how “beautiful” things appear and how much recognition we get from others.

The ego is an ever-present force, and it can be difficult to resist its pull. It is easy to often fall into society’s trap and be consumed by the need for more — more money, more power, more success. In the process, we lose our focus on what truly matters. The Buddhist principle of non-attachment, “The root of suffering is attachment,” has been valuable to me and helps me break free from the grip of ego and lead a life of contentment.

For nearly four years, I’ve experienced a crash course in detachment from everything that I thought defined me; one big ego deflation that has left me shrunk and depleted. The challenge for me is using this experience to bring something positive into life, even if it just boils down to being more open and listening to others without judgment. You see, for many years I thought my faith and beliefs were the fix for me and everyone else. By not recognizing the importance of understanding others and their beliefs, I was blind to the real solutions and made some wrong decisions that brought me to a series of tragic consequences. It was only after this experience that I realized how important it is for me to look beyond my own ego.

Everyone has their own unique set of circumstances and insecurities, so it is important to respect their autonomy and not question how they choose to live their life.

For many people, mental health issues can be an invisible burden that they have to bear alone. This was certainly the case for my friend Brian. After struggling with depression and self-harm for most of his life, he finally found a way out – the practice of Buddhism. For the last six years, he has been using Buddhist principles to manage his mental health and live a happier life.

It is important for me to remember that everyone has different needs and preferences when it comes to self-care. What works for one person may not work for another. It is mandatory for me to focus on myself. When I do this, it is much more possible for me to find faith even in the midst of uncertainty, because, no, I don’t know what MY end will bring, but as I sail through life, I don’t want my EGO to be the captain of my boat. In order to reach my final destination, I am learning how to have a humble attitude and open heart, and allow the wind to guide me, trusting that one day, without any luggage weighing me down, I will reach paradise.

Faith Muscle

Raquel’s Reflection

Posted on by under a spiritual life, Affirmations, Aging, American Dream, Career, Courage, Crisis, Death, disciplined non-conformist., Do Not Be Afraid, Dreams, Embrace Change, Faith, Faith Muscle, Faith-O-Meter, Fellowship, Fourth Dimension, Good over evil, Gratitude, grief, Healing of Memories, heartbreak, hope, illness, inspiration, inspirational messages, joy, Living through death, Living through personal crisis, Meeting your needs, Natural above Normal, NEVER EVER GIVE UP!, NEVER GIVE UP!, one day at a time, Positive Change, Positive thinking, positive words of encouragement, Problem Solving, seasons, Self-Care, self-value, Serene-diptious Moments, Sing a new song, Soul Food, spirit-filled life, spiritual inspirational thoughts, spiritual transformation, Struggles, Swamp of the soul, The God Channel, To thine own self be true, Total Control, transparency, Turmoil, Unconditional Love, Unsung Heroes, Vulnerability
Sunset Vectors by Vecteezy

Iconic American actress, Raquel Welch, was the epitome of beauty and grace, and her captivating, sexy personality made her a popular public figure and a common choice for many first crushes!

Even though she lived a long life, I was taken aback last week when I heard about the passing of the 82-year-old Hollywood legend.

We all have our own end, no matter how strong and powerful we may be.

“You never know how someone’s end will be.” I’ve written before about how my mom repeatedly reminded me of this simple, but wise insight. She would nudge me and awaken my consciousness with those words for me to call to mind everyone’s vulnerability, fragility and mortality, especially during the times I felt angry or frustrated with someone.

My mom’s words came at me loud and clear when I found out about the sad reality that Ms. Welch suffered from Alzheimer’s at the end of her life. Immediately I realized how ironic it was that she memorized so many lines for her roles throughout her long career, and yet in the end was unable to remember even the most basic things.

The Hollywood Walk of Fame is a place of reverence and admiration, but it also serves as a reminder that even the brightest stars can eventually burn out — many times painfully.

The world is an ever-changing stage, with each person playing a unique role in it. We may experience grand finales in life or flops, perhaps, too, our curtains may drop before we reach the end of the script. In any case, we are not the lead writer and showrunner.

No, there are no dress rehearsals. However, with the right attitude we can pull off that movie star look and feel, and empower ourselves to take risks, push boundaries and live our lives with courage and conviction. A little faith also helps us, knowing that although we can’t see them backstage, there is a pair of trench boots in our size that stand ready and tall when we need them.

Faith Muscle