Category Archives: Emotional Health

A Precious Journey: Chapter 2

In Chapter 1, My Precious Left Me, Traveler stumbles on a cave and meets the Man.  You can find and read Chapter 1, on the pull-down bar, Precious’ Journey.

Chapter 2: Traveler goes to the city

Now the traveler had become curious to know more about Precious. He was heading through the City anyway, so he stopped at the bakery to inquire if anyone remembered her.

He could hear the chatty voice before he pulled open the heavy glass door. “Yes, it was a trunk showing and everything was half off!  Half off, I tell you! And they wouldn’t take a credit card.”  Obviously, she caught sight of him because she turned away and checked her hair in the reflection. “ Te he. Isn’t that awful?  Well, gotta go.  Someone’s coming in.   You know how Mr. Baker gets if I don’t greet the customer right away.  No, it’s a he not a bride. Call me later.”  She whirled her chair around, and stood, self-consciously smoothing a skirt that would not have been out of place on a high school ingenue – or perhaps just two inches longer.

“May I help you?” she emphasized each word separately.

“Ah, yes.  I hope so,” said the traveler.  “I am looking for information about someone who used to work here – a  woman named Precious.”

“She left her Man.”

“So I heard.”

“I knew him first – before he met Precious.  He was pretty good looking in high school. Hey, but that was 20 years ago. I’ve been thinking about running up to the cave and checking on him – seeing if he needs anything. ”

“Do you know why she left him?”

“I don’t know.  I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any of the reasons I wanted to leave my man.”

The raised eyebrows of the traveler gave her permission to continue.

“No.  Precious didn’t think I had grounds. It was something about tough love. Oh, she listened to me; I mean she listened to me on break.  Precious frowned on girl talk when we were supposed to be working.  Said something about an honest day’s work for wages or excellence and best effort – those kinds of words.  I didn’t get how not talking was honest.  I like to get it all out there. I’m honest about my feelings. She must have been on the side of the boss.  Come to think of it, I think she was in cahoots with the boss. Cause she got the boss man to give me a second chance after I messed up on the wedding cake orders.  She must have sweet talked him something fierce. Anyway, Precious, she says, ‘Phyllis, I talked to the boss.  I told him I thought you would be a fast learner if I took a little time before work each morning to show you how cake decorating and ordering work.’

So, I asked her, ‘how do you know all that?  About sugar cane and powdered sugar? And white cake flour coming from wheat?  Did you learn that because of your man being a horror culturalist?’  She said she learned all that – that she learned how to cook and how things work when she was still living at home in high school. Can you believe it?  She actually cooked while she was in college. And, she baked bread to earn money while her man was in grad school!  That’s how she landed the job at this bakery.  I guess she even did a wedding cake for one of her friends.”

“Did you say the husband of Precious went to grad school?”

“Yes, that’s what he did.  In high school, he always wanted to be a botanicalist.  But then he changed his mind and became a horror, horror…” “Horticulturalist.” prompted the traveler.

“Anyway, but, he didn’t finish.  At first, I thought Precious said he didn’t finish grade school.  I knew that wasn’t right on accounta me knowing him in high school. She explained to me the different levels of schooling.”

“So you met Precious at this job?”

“Hey, it is just about break time now! I’m really glad that phone hasn’t rang while we were talking.  I’ll take a smoke break even though I don’t smoke. But you could buy me coffee. I don’t have any money – my man took away my debit card – but you can buy. You don’t mind, do you?  He didn’t say I couldn’t drink a latte, he just said I couldn’t buy more than one a week.”

“And ya know,” she said, patting the traveler’s arm. “It would be good for me to be seen with you. I wouldn’t mind, not one little bit.” The traveler acquiesced.

Tall latte. Short iced mint.  The traveller collected them from the counter and sat down in the moulded booth across from Phyllis.

“So, you don’t think Precious left her man for the same reason you wanted to leave yours?”

“Nope.  No way.  My man took away my Old Navy and Macy’s charge cards!”

“You don’t say.”

“He told me I had to quit shopping and start cooking.”

“You didn’t cook?”

“Are you kidding? I went to secretary school.  I know how to type. I was trained about proper office at tire. Then, of course, I have to have something fun to wear when I’m not at the office.  We go to baseball games on the weekends. So I was always busy shopping the sales for the best deals. I didn’t have time to cook.  I work so I can shop. After the stores close, I stop for carry out on the way home.”

“Your husband got tired of carryout?”

“Yeah, I thought that was the real reason.  I think he was trying to control me into coming home after work and cooking dinner. He said it was because I had charged more than I made that month. My Old Navy card was maxed out.  He said he had paid my store cards.  But if they were paid, what’s the harm in me shopping?  I think he just wanted a homestyle meal.”

“So, he took your charge cards and insisted you come home after work and cook?”

“Can you believe it?  Always before he was okay with having dinner late.  He didn’t get home until nine anyway because he was working an extra job. I was ready to leave him.  Next day, I was asking around work for a roommate. Then me and Tiki and Precious went on break.  Tiki, she’s the one that got me this job in the first place.”

“So you met Precious at this job?”

“Well, yeah, we came at the same time, but, I really got to know her better when they were going to fire me.”

The traveler raised his eyebrows quizzically.

“Hard to believe, isn’t it, since I had been to secretary school?”

The traveler nodded just enough to nudge her forward.

“It was the wedding cakes.  I still don’t see why they should be so expensive.  I was just trying to help out the brides.”

The traveller murmured appropriately.

“The wedding cakes, you know, with three tiers? Well, they are three or four hundred dollars.”

Again the traveler nodded.

“But, on the next page over – it’s the third pull down tab on the website – there are all these cakes separately. 6” two layers for $10.  8” for $12.00.  10 inches for $18.00 and that big one on the bottom?  only $30 bucks for the round one or $35.00 for the square!  So, this one bride came in, and she was really on a budget, poor really.  And I added up the total and was telling her to buy them all separately for under a hundred dollars!”  She laughed.

“Did they have frosting on them?”

“Now how did you figure that out?  Are you a baker? That’s exactly what Precious explained to me.  I don’t know how she did it, but Precious knew how to do just about everything. She could type and she didn’t even go to secretary school. She could write the wedding cake orders and she wasn’t a baker.”

“So, Precious was pretty smart?”

“Yeah, Kiki said she was fastididus, fastdious,

“Fastidious?”

“Yes, only in a good way, not a bad way.”

“So, Precious thought it wasn’t a good idea to leave your husband?”

“Not Precious and not Kiki.  Kiki said you’re just supposed to stay together no matter what.  Marriage is for life.   The only reason you should leave your husband is if he hits you or if he is, you know, having an A-fair with someone else.”

“Many people feel that way.”

“Precious said it sounded like maybe my husband was doing an invention, an indevention,”

“Intervention?”

“Yeah, that’s the word, tough love or something.”

“He paid off your cards?”

“Yep.”

“And then he said you couldn’t use them anymore?

“Yep.  Boy, was I mad. I said I wasn’t going to live anymore with a man that mean.”

“What did Precious say about that?”

“She said maybe he really did love me, cause after all, he paid off my charge cards.  She said maybe he just wanted to get my attention about overspending. I said I didn’t see how taking away my charge cards was loving.  She asked did he give me some grocery money for the cooking.”

“Did he?”

“Not any cash!  All he gave me was a grocery card with two hundred dollars on it.

A grocery card! Just thinking about it made me so mad I started bawling again. And then Precious said, she said it was a waste of energy to cry.”

“So Precious didn’t show any sympathy?”

“She said, ‘why cry when you can do something about it?’”

“Did she want you to get back at him?”

“She said I should do an experiment.”

“A science experiment?”

“Yes, sort of.  She wrote me instructions.  Go to the Grocery store.  A list of things to buy. How to mix the ingredients and put them in the oven.  There was supposed to be enough for that dinner and some left-overs for my lunch the next day.”

“Did you do the experiment?”

“Yes, and I gotta say, it tasted real good. My man thought so too.  ‘You did good babe, real good,’ he said. He said he was proud of me.  He called me his little kitten. Then he told me some other things that would make you blush if I repeated them.  And we, well, we kissed and made up.”

“So, he wasn’t being mean after all?”

“Naw, he said he was sorry he had to take my charge cards and I couldn’t have them back, but he would try to make it up to me by adoring me,” she giggled delightedly.  “So Precious, each day she wrote me an easy recipe.  She told me I could still keep on shopping as long as I did it in the grocery store.”

“So, you said Precious didn’t ever cry when she could do something about it?”

“I only saw Precious cry just that once.”

The traveller raised his eyebrows.

“It was that same week.

We were on break again and Kiki was saying how married people should always stay together no matter what. She started telling a story about how her parents stayed together. And Precious, she acted really funny.”

“Did Precious agree with Kiki’s story?”

“No, I don’t think so. But, I didn’t really get why Precious was crying.  It was just a story, something about a man who ate and ate.  It reminded me of the joke where the doctor tells a man to watch his weight and the man says, ‘so I just got my weight out here where I could see it,’ he he.”

“So, a story about a fat man made Precious cry?”

“It was Kiki’s dad.  He got fat while her mom was getting thinner and thinner.”

The Traveler tipped his head to the side and waited.

“Kiki was home-schooled.  That way her mom saved a lot of money on clothes. They were poor so her mom cooked a lot of beans.  Kiki says her mom was a self sack official for the kids.”

“Self-sacrificial?”

“Yes, that’s it.  So Kiki’s mom just ate a little bit and she divided the rest between the kids and made sure there were lots of beans in her husband’s lunch.  Later on they found out Kiki’s dad was just going to McDonald’s and buying himself a hamburger for lunch after he finished the beans.  Then, at night, he would run errands and buy himself another hamburger.”

“He was starving his wife and kids and getting fat himself?”

“Yes.  Isn’t that awful?”

“What did Precious say?”

“That’s what was so strange.  ‘Cause Precious, you know, she’s the one who says, ‘There’s no use crying over something if you can do something to fix it.‘  She was crying. Without making any noise.  The tears were just running down her cheeks.

”And then she said, real quietly she said, ‘I think neglecting someone to the point of starving them while you got fat – might be a good reason for leaving.” Kiki and I both stared at her.  Then she stood up because it was time to go back inside.  And she said something else, but it sounded like maybe she was talking to herself.”

The traveller leaned forward attentively,

“Do you remember what else she said?”

“‘It’s not always about food. There are other ways to starve a person.’ What duya think she meant by that?”

The traveler stroked his chin thoughtfully, and rose.

“Say, it’s about time for me to get back to the office.  Would you mind getting me a refill? One for the road, so to speak.”

He walked Phyllis back to the stoplight, saw her safely across the street.

“One more question,”  he said.

“Do you think Precious left her man to become a Goblin Princess?”

“What?  Precious?”  she sputtered.  She tossed her head coyly, “Well, now, I might think of becoming a Goblin Princess – ‘specially if someone was to give me all the gold and jewelry I wanted.  But Precious?  What would the men see in her?  Precious is more steady and self-sackaficial like Kiki’s Mom – only she dresses nice.”

Note:  in Chapter One, the Man accuses Precious of leaving to become a Goblin Princess.  You can read the first chapter by choosing, Precious’ Journey from the tab at the top of this page.

 

The CCC trail to Black Ridge is one of the shorter trails in the Colorado National Monument. I am not sure that short equals easy, particularly if you are breaking a trail in new fallen snow. The trail goes constantly up. In truth, I am not even sure I found the trail for the last 2/10 mile. But what I am sure of is the 360 degree beauty seen from the spine of Black Ridge as I stood knee deep in unbroken snow drifts. What a beautiful hike.

CCC Trail to Black Ridge
CCC Trail to Black Ridge:  Hundreds of Civilian Conservation Corps recruits camped and worked here from 1931-1942. Many of them ascended this route (one of three camps) in the evening after a day of swinging a sledge hammer, shoveling rock, blasting. I wonder, did they pause and reflect on the beauty? Or were they exhausted?

I hiked today after half day of work – spent largely at a desk – in a heated building. It took me no more than an hour to go up and back. I had on snow outerwear and the benefit of brilliant midday sunshine.

What would it be like in June, after a day of hard labor in the blistering sun, to hike .75 mile up to get my portion of chow and tent and bedroll? Would I notice the beauty? How about the winter time?

DSCN6752valleyvromCCC

I made a giant loop in two-foot snow drifts and met up with my original trail. My footprints appeared small in the vast scheme of things. I joined the trail at the very place where, on my way up, I became acutely aware of my size and solitude. When I left the paved road at the trailhead, it was apparent no humans had passed this way for at least two snowfalls. Noticeably absent were the tracks of other rodents. No cottontail, only one mouse. No deer. I wondered if desert big horn used this trail. Then I noticed the trees, the plentiful hiding places for predators. You can bet desert bighorn would avoid this trail. They prefer wide open spaces, less opportunity for skulking and lurking. So what am I doing here? Suddenly my ears were attuned to each sound, every footfall. Further, I recollected that CCC Trail joins Black Ridge Trail. Black Ridge Trail was closed for a couple weeks last summer due to; well, due to a mountain lion.

Nevertheless, I pressed on, comforting myself by rehearsing the rules: 1) Make yourself look bigger.  2) Be firm and in charge.  3) Hike in broad daylight – cats prefer the dusk and dawn (unless, of course, they are very hungry…). So far, so good. I still agree with the young female ranger who said, “Cherry, there are some things you will never get to do if you wait for someone to do them with.”

On the other hand, there are some things you cannot do by yourself even in broad daylight. Despite my love of independence and self-reliance, I had to ask for help to check my brake lights.

Chemistry on the job

On the way to a degree in organizational management, I was required to take a class with the forbidding title, “Praxis of Organizational Growth and Health.” There I learned something I have never forgotten. After years of studying large organizations, researchers found the secret ingredient to whether an employee is happy in a job or not.

The secret?

The people.

Up to that time, I thought what I put into a job was what made me happy. If I was responsible, dependable, dedicated and knew my stuff; I could and should be content. If I was not content, I needed to turn up the energy and give more of myself.

I have worked some pretty joyless jobs – and worked them well. I came to think if you had done your best and continued to be unhappy in a job, it was not what you were called to do. It was incumbent you find your ambience and devote yourself to that.

Enter the three “Cs” concept of team building (Courageous Leadership, Hybels, 2002) from my leadership classes:
Character
Chemistry
Competence
There again, I tended to dismiss Chemistry. It seemed frivolous. Character? Absolutely. Honesty is paramount. Competence? You bet. Who has not known the unrelenting stress of working with incompetents? But Chemistry? I was frugal in my expectations.

At the moment, I am privileged to work a fabulous job which I love immensely. The location is spectacular. The duties fit me like a glove. But it is the people that make it magical. As in any group, there are a smattering of incompetents, and one or two with whom I do not click. But oh, how easily those were forgotten in the glow of working side by side with a young seasonal whose across the board kindness to all was unflagging. She could dispatch duties with efficiency and artistry. Do not discount the pleasure of trading seldom used vocabulary with a venerable chief; nor underestimate friendship with a soft-spoken and diplomatic officemate; or a visionary and analytical director.

In my work environment; coming and going, transferring and furloughing is inevitable; good-byes and leave taking frequent; praise and commendation essential.

Last Friday went something like this
Coworker: Bye Cherry, it’s been real.
Me: Now? You’re not staying until close?
Co: have to finish some errands. I think you are awesome.
Me: You know I feel the same about you.
Coworker: (retreats down the hall with huge sniff).
Me: Go now, then! I don’t have any Kleenex!
Laughter filled the lengthening distance between us.

“Thanks for the laughter,” made an appearance on the note taped to my desk.
Perhaps laughter is chemistry?
Reader’s Digest was right about laughter being the best medicine.
My best co-workers are the breed C.S. Lewis was speaking of when he said merriment of the merriest kind “…exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously…(The Weight of Glory).”

I’ve looked at [work] from both sides now – drudgery and joy. It is the people who make the difference. And I fervently prefer an environment with character, competency and chemistry.

Life is good

“Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather knew that she was happy, than felt herself to be so…(1813, Austen, Pride and Prejudice, chapter 59)”

Life has been pretty good, of late. It is possible to know life is good, but not feel it. Rationally, you tick off the list: food, shelter, provision, job, relationship – you have it all. Life is Good. You must be happy. But where are the feelings? You want to feel it!

When you get to the point where your head knows life is good, but your body and emotions are numb and refuse to feel it; there are five things to do that help transfer successes of the good life to feelings of well being:

Walk or Hike in nature and release some dopamine and endorphins into your system. I suspect exercise of any sort is helpful, so go ahead and enjoy the gym or mall walking; but maximum benefit for me happens when I combine the beauty of nature with exercise.

Hiking makes me FEEL that life is good. A fast walk along a nature trail helps me experience feelings of gratitude. Feelings of gratitude are the foundation of that feeling of well being.

My stars!  That is a walk with a view that will life your spirits! Moon rise from Window Rock
My stars! That is a walk with a view that will lift your spirits! Moon rise from Window Rock, Colorado National Monument 1-15-14 5:18 p.m.

Go to bed earlier. When life is good, it is easy to be in the mode of rise early and stay up late in order to maintain the success. Ben Franklin was right, “early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy wealthy and wise.” Go to bed earlier. Get a refreshing rest. Wisdom feels wonderful.

Eat well. It is almost second nature to skip lunch (or breakfast or dinner) when you are busy. It is a shame to feel badly in the midst of a successful working life. For no other reason than to improve your emotional vision; make healthy food choices. For me this means plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables; a smaller amount of meats, grains and sweets; and, gasp, no caffeine. It also means I need to eat something before I get that starved feeling and blood sugar plummets.

Choose music intentionally By all means, choose music! I cannot imagine life without the comfort of my piano. Make music. Listen to music. Console and exercise your brain by listening to your ipod or playing your heart out on the keyboard or strings. Not a good idea to overload on dirges, blues or torch songs; however.

Choose carefully the companions you spend time with. Better a long walk with a like-minded friend than a politically charged discussion with extended family. For the introvert, solitude is a much more serene friend than TV. A good book, or a reflective conversation with an old friend is better than a noisy bar or a competitive activity you are not good at.

January is half over. Life is good. I want to feel the goodness and savor it.

First Pool, No Thoroughfare Canyon, Colorado National Monument January 13, 2014
First Pool, No Thoroughfare Canyon, Colorado National Monument January 13, 2014

To Know and Be Known and the best gift ever

Did you ever receive a gift, large or small, that comforted your soul down to the very core because it was so appropriate to your needs, taste and personality? Sometimes you don’t know you have a need until it is met unexpectedly and you are made whole.
When you were a kid, did you get an extra special gift and beg to take it to school and show it off? I got a gift like that this year. The season of gift-giving is just past. My Christmas is complete. I have received a box from my brother and sister-in-law that scratches an itch way down deep. For the last 23 years they have been a partnership of quintessential gift givers. Last year it was hiking boots – and smart wool socks. This year? Oh, frabjous day! Nobody knows me like my brother and my sister-in-law.
In my honor, they gave a gift to Heifer International.
As if that wasn’t enough; I got two books, TWO, with titles made just for me: “Quiet, The Power of Introverts in a Word That Can’t Stop Talking,” by Susan Cain and “The Walk” by William deBuys. For 24 hours I skipped cooking and gorged myself on the finest trail mix I have ever ingested. And, I got two notepads and a packet of glorious carbon pencils with wondrous sayings printed down the length of each one, encouraging things like, “I write, therefore I am,” “Sit down and get writing!” “Write from the heart.”

What was the best gift you received this year? Time alone? Quality time with someone? Words of affirmation? Some gift of service? An expensive material gift? In my history, any gift over $10 is pretty expensive. The best gifts are those where the thought counts exponentially because the giver was not thinking of expense or obligation; but specifically of who you are, your role in the world, and what the deep desires of your heart are.

Seasons of Lights

I have always loved the Christmas lights. They lend warmth to a bare, cold room or a tree bereft of leaves, a city gray and stark in the chill of winter. They beckon a traveler toward the warmth of home; provide illumination in the absence of the sun.

When I was a young child, much of our simple seasonal excitement revolved around lights. Returning home in the early darkness, as the car topped the 12th Street hill, my brother and I would look to see if grandma was home.  Did the plastic, seven-place, fake candles  burn blue in the south-facing window? If the window was dark, no one was home. In those days, everyone knew it was not safe to leave lights plugged in and unattended.

A fall schedule properly checked off, meant that Daddy or Grandpa put up Christmas lights late in fall as part of the waning yard work. Lights remained ready and waiting all through November, but not plugged in until after Thanksgiving.  A sigh of completion escaped the ladies the year lights festooned every gable of the old house. It can take several painstaking years to garner enough by prudently adding a string each year. A Christmas Eve drive through expensive neighborhoods where homeowners competed for the annual Christmas decorating prize, was an unbreakable tradition-something you had to do between the oyster soup and unwrapping gifts.

Lights were a part of my childhood Christmases, but  they were only a manufactured replica of the beauty that makes Christmas season so magical.  A few days ago, I was drawn outside just before bedtime. The full moon cast light across the hills and onto the snow. Sheer planes of icy frost glittered like frozen fireflies.  Suddenly, I knew whence came the inspiration for Christmas lights.

Could it be entire generations have traded electric lights, battery operated LED lights for forgotten natural beauty?  Musing, I wonder if I have been content all these years splashing in a mud puddle when there was a holiday at the seaside available to me (C.S. Lewis).

But oh, if the imitation of nature yields so much peace and goodwill and joy and memories, how much more the real thing?

I wish you plenty of strolls in the moonlight; plenty of:

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”  Anton Chekhov

“The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, gave the lustre of midday to objects below.”  Clement Clarke Moore, ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (1823)

 

Be gentle with yourself; it’s almost Christmas

Be gentle with yourself; it’s almost Christmas. Be extra gracious to others; we are in the darkest, coldest time of the year.

It is such a comfort to have close family or friends with whom to spend the holidays. Yet,
no matter how hard we try to be realistic; all of us harbor secret hopes and dreams and unmet needs. The most beautiful time of the year can be a time of extreme loneliness – even in a crowd.

Though the snow and dawn and twilight are delightful, the shortened daylight and frosty temperatures leave precious little time for rejuvenating hikes in nature and endorphin raising exercise. The very energy once gained through the ministrations of Mother Nature is now drained and diverted toward crowds of strangers in shopping malls or trying to encourage disgruntled, circadian disrupted, significant others with
seasonal affective disorder.

But, don’t weep, darling. Crying only stuffs up your nose and makes it more difficult to sing. And sing, you must! After all, it is Christmas!

I wish you PEACE, JOY, LOVE – and the fulfillment of HOPE! Because, hope deferred makes the heart sad. Be gentle with yourself. Be gracious to others!

The Perfect Puzzle Piece

I had a difficult time getting to sleep the other night. It was not tossing and turning due to guilt or unfinished business, or even a cup of coffee, that kept me wakeful. It was peace and joy and anticipation.
Like the child who simply cannot fall asleep Christmas Eve for the anticipation of Christmas morning; I lay awake contemplating and luxuriating.  It had been a usual and satisfying evening.  An hour at the piano, micro-zapped leftovers for dinner, a bit of writing, tying up some cyber loose ends from work.
About the time I settled in, sighed and pulled the covers to my chin, the realization hit me.

The puzzle piece I had been holding so tightly as a precious souvenir of my past; the beautiful priority piece, reminder of who I am and want to be; the piece I feared belonged only in a box long discarded and given away?  That piece fits perfectly in the puzzle now in construction on the table of my life.

Baby it’s cold outside

What a beautiful morning. It was good to wake up with the sun and find I am still alive, for there are things to do, places to go, people to see. At 1:00 a.m. I wondered if I would live to see another day. It is so unusual for me to be any thing but healthy. My first thought was, “How have I compromised my system?” Stress? I did talk to support tech online for 90 minutes during the day and I am taking on more responsibility at work. Food allergy? Mom fed me, as good moms are wont to do. Everything is home-cooked at her house, but sometimes she forgets to tell you she added bullion or MSG laden flavor packets until you are half way through your serving.
Air borne allergies? Hot water heat is the best thing ever for my respiratory health. Now, those afghans, what germs cuddled in them last? Or was it the dryer lint? (in which case, I am allergic to my work clothes). The Cold? Oh, yes, the cold is bitting-and dry. The earache that stabbed me at a few minutes to nine -just before I walked out the door of my parent’s warm house, extended all the way from my right ear down into my throat, making me think of strep throat. Tucked into my car, I raised it a level to pneumonia. “I gotta get home and nip this in the bud, my bronchials have never hurt this bad.”

Fifteen minutes later, cup of herbal tea in hand and hot wrap heating in the microwave, I was still puzzled whence came the pain. No stuffy nose, no congestion, just griping, constricting pain moving into my chest, radiating toward my back. Wait a minute, did I say constricting? 10:00 p.m. and peacefully in my own bed, was I about to get my wish? My S-I-L and I have an agreement: No cancer. Just massive heart attack. Best way to go. Should I get up and open the blinds so anyone coming to check on me when I turn up missing can look through the window instead of knocking incessantly? No. I think I will drift off to sleep instead. One a.m. wide awake with upper chest pain, bargaining, “Yes, God of the Universe, I want to die peacefully with a heart attack, but I wanted to pay off my debts first. I want to have a legacy to leave for my children. And, oh, could it be out on some beautiful beach or hiking trail?”

The pain is now bearable and I am quite functional and calm. And that is why, I think I’ll grab this last opportunity and go for a nice long walk in the sunshine.

Holiday incongruencies

This year, while some are making Much Ado – make that a Hamlet of a to do, or not to do – about shopping on Thanksgiving;  I continue to make it my aim to stay away from stores after Halloween. There are two reasons for this. Reason number one has nothing to do with the people or the commercialization of Christmas. I abhor the tedious traffic and random road work.

Despite my best intentions; I found myself in big box retail areas the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.

As soon as I exited my car, I heard the Salvation Army bell ringer.  Ah, the red bucket, now that’s nostalgic. A generous creature of habit, I reached for my coin purse.  What did I find there?  Two guitar picks and a drum key.  I don’t think that is what the charity is looking for. Bingo.  No money in the wallet is reason number two for not shopping anytime after Halloween.

Sprouts Farmer’s Market is my new favorite grocery. I stopped there to pick up a few fresh ingredients. Crowds of organically, ecologically inclined customers were bustling about, smiling and swinging along to upbeat pop tunes of the 70s, little sign of shopping for anything beyond the pleasant anticipation of cooking and feasting.

Meanwhile, at Hobby Lobby, long lines formed to pay for mounds of Christmas decorations while other shoppers seemed driven as they searched through glittering aisles of red and green, silver and gold.  There was something a bit non sequitur about the funeralish organ rendition piping through the speakers, “And….he walks with me and he talks with me.” By the time I made my way to the cash register, the instruments were crescendoing a gentle reminder, “Climb every mountain, search, high and low, follow every byway, every path you know…”

Here’s hoping you are warmed and fed and feeling peace this holiday season. And may all your incongruities and non sequiturs be not too jarring or jolting.