Category Archives: Emotional Health

Character, Emotional Health, Holidays and Traditions, Music and Theatre

Dear Ghost of Christmas Past

December 8, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

Dear Ghost of Christmas Past,

I know you so well. I know that you love pecans and peanut butter fudge and reading good books while sitting by a wood fire. I love the way your eyes brighten and you look your best, invigorated and alive, in the great out-of-doors; snow covering your boots, up to your calves, even your knees. We have a lot of history. We have made beautiful music together haven’t we, Ghost? Christmas after Christmas, pleasant harmonies with two or four or twelve or 56. Yes, Ghost of Christmas Past, I remember producing, costuming, directing, acting in holiday theatre. What about the years as parade announcer, narrator? And oh! Remember the events? Sitting in the audience for Disney on Ice, The Nutcracker, The Colorado Symphony Orchestra and the spectacular Colorado Children’s Chorale. Remember the Conifer High School Marching Band freezing before the parade and marching gingerly over the ice so as not to fall and dent shiny tubas, mellophones and flags? And before that, remember a blond-haired 13-year-old standing in a tux and spotlight on the stage at Boettcher Concert Hall soloing “Hark the Herald Angels Sing.” I had almost forgotten. Thank you, thank you, Ghost of Christmas Past for this journey down memory lane. There have been lean years and one or two fat years. I have loved the finding and giving just the right gift and hated the stress of being unable to find the right gift; chafed at the loneliness of buying my own gift after I got over the self-pity of not having any gifts at all; hated not being able to afford the right gift for the right people or wood for the warmth of growing children. As I said, we have a lot of history. And then, there were the tears; seasons of parting and temporary good-byes that turned out to be permanent. But the tears I remember most are the tears of surprised joy. Remember that year? The year I learned it was possible to cry from overwhelming love and beauty? I was thirteen and feeling displaced in so many ways. Poorer than usual, I steeled myself for an empty Christmas. I expected nothing. And then someone gifted me a small piece of costume jewelry – a rhinestone pin in the shape of a trumpet and I was undone. As if the gift was not enough, we were hustled about to put on our coats and hop in the car. Tickets. Tickets to the Ice Capades. That Christmas exceeded my wildest dreams. Why? Because someone, there in my universe, knew me so well. You know me, Ghost of Christmas Past, as well as I know you. But I cannot live there in the past, and that too I know so well.

The Dickens Carolers somewhere around the late 90s

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Spiritual Well Being

Memories of the Past

November 4, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

“Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.” Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.

I have a friend who is expert at moving on. Make that, moving on and succeeding. If anyone wins at life she does. Dealt a series of unfortunate relationships, she is still able to plot and plan for the future and surface on top. Is she always cheerful, effervescent? Hardly. Is she in robust physical and mental health? Negative. But she is able to embrace – to acknowledge the good in her memories of past relationships. That makes it possible for her to savor past good while moving forward into the unknown. Part of this is due to a no nonsense course of forgiveness. Instead of continuing mired down in failure, she yet has hope in mankind and man in particular.

For me, it is frequently dangerous to embrace the good memories. I might slide down the slippery slope to my past. I am still stalled at the idea that forgiveness means overlooking or forgetting and going back to the way things were. I like to do things right. I am mortified when I do something wrong. I am a great fixer. I feel I need to begin again at the stage things began to go wrong. I am Don Quixotic in my need to right the un-rightable wrong; straighten all the crooked rugs of my wake; square everything up to perfection.

Over and over I need reminders: Move forward. Onward. Forgive.

Quit using your freedom as an opportunity to repeat the past. Or as biblical wisdom indicates; you are called to freedom! How do you again return to the beggarly way you used to live?

To think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure, is most certainly healing – maybe not reconciling. In my current WIP (work in progress) – my casual attempt to run alongside NaNoWriMo – the main character is exploring the idea of forgiveness and moving forward. How about you? Do you wallow in the past? Or do you think only of the past as the memory brings you pleasure?

Emotional Health, Family, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

Waking up is hard to do

October 21, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

My first husband and I listened to (and sang) a variety of music – predominantly of the pop, MOR, easy listening genre. We were attracted to music with melodic and harmonic qualities. When our son arrived 13 months into that marriage, I swung into compose as you go, lullaby on demand mode. Maybe the grown son is passionate about rock as a rebellion – or maybe just as an extension of being rocked to sleep. I made a favorite rock-you-to-sleep lyric of the song that never ends variety. It was challenging to sing only because it ascended in pitch at each turn around.

There are times in an infant’s life they nod off to sleep peacefully and other times they fight taking a nap;

Times they wake placid and times they wake hungry, soggy, uncomfortable or discontent.

Believing music a great antidote for whatever ails you, I began to employ a wake-up repertoire as well as a go-to-sleep song list. It took the leap of a nanosecond to adapt Neil Sedaka’s “Breaking Up is Hard to Do,” to “Waking Up is Hard to Do.”

They say that waking up is, hard to do;

And I know, I know that it’s true;

After all you’ve slept through;

Waking up is hard to do.

I am a morning person. I love waking up with the sun and having two or three hours to myself to walk, create or organize before the duties of the day kick in. Maybe it is the season, or maybe old age, the cares of life – or perhaps the decreasing hours of daylight. Whatever the reason, waking up these days is occasionally depressing, overwhelming or lonely.

No problem. I still have music to console me – with little, very little adaptation.

They say that waking up is, hard to do;

And I know, I know that it’s true;

After all, I’ve been through;

Waking up is hard to do.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life

2014 Manifesto

October 18, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

It may have taken me 10 months to formulate, but yesterday while hiking the Perimeter of Ouray Colorado, I was able to articulate a goal, a resolution for this year.

I want to live for beauty not money;

Be driven by love rather than affirmation;

Walk for inspiration rather than exercise.

My clothes, my belongings;

Are for beauty, love, adventure; not for status or vanity.

Of course, all the nots sometimes come along with the beauty, love, and inspiration.

In September, I got much needed new hiking treads.

In October, I stepped unsuspecting into mud nearly to my knees. New and shiny to unrecognizable in less than 30 days.

Emotional Health, Metaphor, Uncategorized

Mud Writing

October 1, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

This is it. This is the place. I never pass this way but what I say to myself, “There, that is the corner where you wrote Terry’s name in the mud, hoping it would last forever, but knowing the river would wash your secret away.”

Then again, this may not be the correct location. Highway 65 does look like the place, but perhaps it triggers a memory of Glenwood Canyon. Mom, Dad, Me, my Brother -we were on the way somewhere. To Grand Mesa? To Denver? Who knows? I was so burdened with my desire for that tanned, blond, talented boy, that I took a stick in hand and told my love to the river putty. I wonder, is it rare to feel as strong a connection as I felt at 10?

Puppy Love, they call it. Infatuation. Crush. But tell me, do you have a similar story? Has there ever, since that time, been a relationship, a desire so strong, pure that it had to be spoken, admitted, whether anything came of it or not? Is requited, completed love ever as strong as the secret and unrequited?

Perhaps that is what I love most about a sandy beach. You can walk and scribe and tell the world of your love or your pain and then let the tide and the ocean carry it all away and provide a blank canvas.

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life

Guys, Hey Guys, Can We Just Be Friends?

September 17, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

I cannot tell you how bland, uneventful, or one-opinion-sided life can be with only female friends. So guys, I need you in my life. Can we be friends?

There is nothing quite like working or socializing with someone who “gets it,” intellectually or intuitively. Confidence, as they say, is sexy. So is knowledge and intelligence. Compassion. Kindness. Professionalism. I want this chemistry in my relationships with the male gender. Actually, I consider myself blessed when chemistry like that happens in my female friendships, too.

But there is a huge difference. I don’t go into female friendships thinking, “how long can we trade ideas, enjoy each other’s company, before this turns into a physical commitment?” Honestly, I crave physical intimacy too. But what I want is a whole relationship, not just the physical part. And I will never know how ennobling male / female relationships can be if I don’t have a chance to observe you in action, discuss ideas, compare notes.

I am a strong and capable independent woman. There are times you are strong where I am weak – usually in matters of physical exertion, such as removing a lug nut. But please don’t condescend to me, begin to instruct in all disciplines, act lordly or expect my undying adoration just because you had the brute strength or extra height to fix an engine or place something on a tall shelf.

There are times I am strong where you are weak. My strengths lie in areas of intuitive analysis, financial responsibility, spatial harmony, social appropriateness, artistic design. Maybe yours do too. Perhaps we overlap in some strengths. That’s good. It makes for more common ground and understanding. Please acknowledge my strengths instead of assuming male superiority in all areas of life.

I can also be strong where I would rather be gentle such as resisting physical advances. Inevitably that strength comes at a cost. I buckle on my self-control. My armor appears leathery and standoffish.

It seems like the male relationships I have cultivated these past few years have been with younger men. Largely because I feel safe with a man half my age and can treat him like a son. I can discuss a wide range of topics, try on differing opinions, banter, spar with vocabulary and innovative ideas, truly love and be loved and no one gets emotionally unhealthy. No one gets hurt because no one has expectations -especially me.

There is so much I want and need to learn from men. I am not only intensely loyal, I am willing to give friendship back wholeheartedly. Can we just be friends? Can we share encouraging hugs and deep thoughts as I do with my girlfriends? Can we really esteem and ennoble, maybe even transform each other? Guys, I am longing to know, can we just be friends?

Character, Emotional Health, Family, Goals and Dreams, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

But I feel loved

September 2, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

My necklace and my earrings don’t match, but I feel loved. It has taken me a long time to admit this, but gifts are one of my love languages. According to experts on the subject, there are five different love languages; words of affirmation, physical touch, gifts, acts of service, and quality time. As I once told a counselor, I am adaptable. I would be happy to receive love in any of the languages. For many years, there was silence.

Growing up, service was deemed the paramount love language. The only type of worthy quality time was time spent in service. I understand some of the reasons for this bias. Service does not cost anything but time and effort. My family did not have the monetary wherewithal to engage in the language of gifts. I was taught to serve and serve I did – to the point I assumed service was my primary love language.

When I first began to see that I loved and longed to receive gifts, I felt guilty. Because – said the unwritten rules – to crave gifts was to be materialistic.

When I acknowledged I had a penchant for wanting to give gifts; a knack for running a gift store that specialized in finding just the right gift for the important people in life; I finally woke to the fact that gifts must be my love language.

Some years ago, my sister-n-law gifted me a set of turquoise earrings, a genuine act of love as she likes the stone as well as I and could have kept them for herself. For a milestone birthday, a cousin delivered a delicate pearl and diamond pendant. Lovely. A proper gift from lord to lady, but I have no husband, so family filled the gap. These days, if I am having a particularly lonely or insecure morning, I dress with care for work. I fasten on my necklace; thread the turquoise dangles through my earlobes.

My necklace and earrings don’t match, but I feel loved. Thus fortified, I sally forth to conquer the world.

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

How do you mend a broken heart?

August 8, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

In my dream, I was driving the ’78 Cutlass down a rockslide. (Not just any Oldsmobile, but the one I drove off the lot in November, 1978; the Cutlass Supreme with only 7,000 miles on it. That car took me in style to the DMV at the courthouse where I paid an exorbitant fee for license tags causing the young man behind me to gasp, “what are you driving lady?” It pulled a fully overloaded U-haul trailer all the way to Chicago, saw one child learn to drive, and hauled me to the hospital for the birth of the other two. Patiently, the Cutlass hung in there for trips from Dallas to Colorado until the youngsters graduated from car seats to regular seatbelts. It was sad to sell it after 20 years and a rebuilt engine.)

Confident, cautious, and dependable I navigated the talus that was the rockslide. Our ride was as smooth as a buggy trip on a cobblestone street – until we came to a drop-off. No mere 4-wheel-drive vehicle could breach that step. Heavy road moving equipment – maybe. One option would be to back up the rockslide. It was then I found out the trip down had not really been as smooth as a cobblestone street. Another solution might be a helicopter or a crane. I acknowledged my problem, turned off the engine, removed the keys, exited the car and left it there. Surely, given time, I would be able to solve the problem.

So ended the dream.

I am a morning person. I love waking up with the sun – with a fresh perspective. Over the past 6 months, I have experienced (again) a series of intermittent days or weeks – not every day – where I wake up depressed, a little bit blue, with that sinking feeling. You know the one. As I came gradually toward consciousness this morning, I could tell it was a gorgeous day. Sunshine. Birds chirping. Gentle breeze with the scent of pinion pine, dew-kissed desert, lavender. What could be more delicious? Then came the dread. I longed to roll up in a ball and hide in the depths of my bed. “Emergency, emergency,” clanged my emotions, “Rise and shine. Commence self-talk. Up by the bootstraps, now. Make yourself feel better.”

But, instead of self-talk, I listened. This is what I heard;

“You have a broken heart.”

“Aw, come on. That’s history. My counselor pointed that out years ago.”

“Nevertheless, it is not mended yet.”

I walk. I write. I make music. How else can you mend a broken heart? Really mend it, not just dull the sensation or self-medicate?

I freely admit, I still don’t know how to get that Cutlass off the rockslide – nor do I know how to mend a broken heart. But naming the problem helps me walk forward. Knowing precisely what I am dealing with along with forward movement frees up the thinking and problem solving mechanisms. Remembering chance words of hope spoken by friends helps. It was the best day I’ve had in a long time.

Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Goals and Dreams, Spiritual Well Being, The Rules

You Win at Life

July 24, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

A few weeks ago a Facebook friend posted her results from one of those little 10 or 15 question multiple choice quizzes that purport to read your personality or your future.

“I make history!” she said. “What answer did you get?”

She is an educator and a former colleague of mine. We share a common understanding of the value of history and core education. The test sounded interesting. Not the kind of test you put a lot of stock in like Myers Briggs or even Rorschach, but just for fun.

So, I clicked the link. I had my fun. I got my answer.

You win at life!

What?????? I must have clicked a couple wrong answers along the way. Me win at life? Obviously, that was not a very credible test. I took a quick glance over my history and laughed. But shame followed closely on the heels of the laughter. Because, you know, it’s not nice to win. Or is it? When you win, does it automatically mean you have manipulated, cheated, intimidated, made someone else your step-ladder to success?

I dwelt in faulty thinking for a spell, second-guessing past success and past mistakes and chastising myself for being so transparent that a recreational test found me out.

This is precisely the type of emotional cerebral activity that garnered me the accusation that I think too much.

Is it wrong to succeed above your fellow man, or is winning at life an opportunity to raise others up? When I look over the past decades, I see I have reinvented myself many times just to survive. Does that make me a winner?

Maybe, just maybe this little test was meant to encourage, not to chide. After all, when you take a quiz titled, “Which Disney Star are You?” Everyone ends up a star.

So, my friend makes history and I win at life! That is palm reading I can live with, a daily reminder:

Be encouraged!

You can get through this!

You win at life!

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Religion, Spiritual Well Being

Patti Hill, Gilbert Grape and One Tin Soldier

July 14, 2014 Cherry Leave a comment

When I first saw the movie, “What’s Eating Gilbert Grape,” I sat and wept quietly at its conclusion. My brother, a fan of the film, questioned my tears. “It has a happy ending,” he argued. But I could not bear the relentless burden of caretaking and parenting of a parent that Gilbert was called on to carry.

I feel the same crushing weight for Amy in Patti Hill’s story, “The Queen of Sleepy Eye. “ The mother is relentless in her dependence on Amy. No 17-year-old should be called on to raise a parent. This type of dependence demands boundaries, but it is a bit ticklish for an underage child to set them and still remain respectful to the parent. But here’s the rub; Amy herself is not perfect. She scolds. Some of her actions are scoldable. She judges and her pride goes before a fall. Been there, done that. I’ve also made promises with the best of good will and self-control and then broken them.

This is a book every Christian should read. Using your children for your own glory or sustenance is a theme oft repeated in life. Manipulation is a tool frequently employed by many parents, but not often acknowledged in Christian fiction – which this is.

The first third of this book reads like a textbook psychology case study. The later portions are for Christians only. Were you raised steeped in the same type of Christianity as I was? A few decades ago, we would have grieved for every last character as they fell from Grace. With tears in our eyes, we would have shaken the dust off our feet and moved on just like some of the church people in Hill’s book. But the ending Patti Hill crafts is an ending where, with the reader’s sympathy and understanding, the characters fell into Grace.

And oh, how I loved the hippies, and Patti’s portrayal of Paonia. Wait, that was Paonia, wasn’t it? And I know these church people, which, unfortunately, is why I shy away from Christian fiction these days.

Are you a baby-boomer? Do yourself a favor and read this book. It will resonate like “Forrest Gump,” or “Gilbert Grape,” or “One Tin Soldier.”

Cherry Odelberg