Day 47: What if?

In my current state of semi-retirement, I cannot help but look around at all of the jobs I had never had and wonder what route my life would have taken if I had walked down any of those alternative  paths instead of the ones I did; so many choices, so many prospects.  I get a similar feeling when I look around at a concert or ball game and marvel at all of the people I see, the faces I don’t know, so, so many.  Who are they? Are they having fun? I examine their faces with some precision.  I like looking at people and wondering about them.

I constantly like to flirt with the idea of what if (especially now that I have the time to do it.)  What if I were reinventing myself today at this point in my life…or better yet earlier when I was much younger; what if I had gone with an entirely different profession than I did. How would my life today be different today or would it? There are so many alternatives; so many formulas for success to examine.

If I were making a choice today, I think my professional direction would center on occupations that entertain people; ones that keep people amused or in high spirits.

No, I don’t see a clown face in my future (not that kind of entertainment) but I’ve always toyed with the idea of working in a 5 star hotel, something with a casino attached perhaps and the opportunity to travel and live abroad as an option to the employment.  How magnificent would that be to work for a company that sent you all over the world to live, to engage, and to interact with people of all cultures on their dime?

Years ago, I heard about what I thought was a really incredible job:  working on the Queen Mary and engaging senior citizens in conversation, cards, dancing and dining experiences to enhance their travel experience.   Qualified persons should be well educated, interested in multiple hobbies, capable of mixing well with guests and seaworthy.  This sounded like me to the letter except I was married to a non traveler at that time, had a family; had a job that needed me (or so I thought), and was definitely landlocked and so this path was uncrossed and untested.

People who engage others in amusement activities must be a particularly unique breed. I picture the cruise mentality with a little Disney thrown in for good measure:  Smiles, enchanting personalities, outgoing individuals who enjoy the act of connecting with people; artists of humanity.

It’s a wonderful thing to have time on your hands to think about the future, the past; it’s undoubtedly a luxury of sorts; a mental sport of thinking fun. But I have a theory about fun and enjoyment: it should not be a passive activity (is that an oxymoron?).  Personal and social engagements must be an active sport; one that causes your mouth to reflex into a smile and your mind to have the time and luxury to engage in “what if’s”. 

Day 46: …Are we friends now?

Sometimes, I find it very challenging to tell my real friends apart from those who are not my friends, especially online.  They may look a lot alike; especially on Facebook and other social networking sites. We “friend” each other all the time but what does that really mean?  It supposes a relationship but what is that relationship about? We have become internet friends, is that good enough?

Recently, I have made the mistake of reaching out to internet friends for advice and/or support.  I suppose I thought it was like telling your life story to the stranger sitting next to you on a plane. You don’t have to see their faces online which might be showing disapproval and you can vent your personal issues ad nauseum. Only, there is a gigantic difference; what goes on the internet lasts forever and these people may not really be your friends.

Writing this happiness blog is complicated at times.  It requires regular personal life examination and searching for answers to my life’s dilemmas but we all need to be conscious of the limitations of introspection for improvement.

On the internet, people can be brutally honest, or mean, or uncaring, or wonderful, or thoughtful but it all sounds the same.  Without the intonation and stress of live speech, do you really know how something is said or how it is meant?  Also, life messages are delivered in Twitter size statements; how much can you read into that?  Ann Landers and Dear Abby would cringe at the text message sized retort to life’s major concerns.

Personally, I find that it is my own fault for asking for advice.  Advice is something personal and it really requires someone understanding multiple factors related to the situation to make an informed suggestion.  How well does this person know you today?  Many of our network friends are older and from your past, not your present.  Their knowledge of you ended when you or they moved away.  It is not their fault that they see you capable of making the mistakes of a 12 year old when that was the last time they saw you in person.  Or perhaps they know you from your job and they cannot tell the difference between personal issues and work issues caused by the job and the collective people in that work group?

Some of our network friends are just networking, looking for clients, jobs, and not “friends.”  The problem I see is with the word “friend.”   I think we need some new online vocabulary to distinguish these interactions or maybe we need to be careful with “friending” acquaintances. 

Either way, I am going to return to asking just my face to face friends for advice.  This way when they frown at my suggestion and tell me “I’m nuts for doing something;” I can see it and react because they care enough to tell me something important that may require more than 145 characters in an online message.  I like this decision; I think I’ll tweet this to all my friends…

Day 45: I live with my own private human navigation system…

I live with an amazing man who has an uncanny ability to sense direction.  No matter where he is, he can determine his directionality with no apparent signs or clues.  You have to understand that this is an inconceivable feat to me because I have absolutely no directionality whatsoever and even with all the signs in the world and a navigation system built into my car; I can still get very lost and flustered at the thought of going someplace new.

I believe he inherited this trait because his mother has it too and she doesn’t even drive a car (how is that even possible).  It seems that spatial relations plays a big role in this aptitude (and that could be my downfall unto itself) but his gift is even more remarkable to me than you could imagine.

Although I understand that the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, I have no clue as to how this applies when you’re driving a car.  I marvel as he distinctly knows which way to go; even to the point of developing a new shortcut in the process. 

All landmarks look the same to me.  And so even though he explains, very methodically I might add, how to develop my supposedly innate skill of directionality, I cannot do it. 

Maybe our style differences play an important role in this process. He is extremely calm and forthright in his approach to going places; I am looking all over at the exciting things I see along the way.  He is focused and I am not.  He is deliberate and I am casual.  Maybe you believe that my personality is thwarting the process but it’s clearly more than that to me.  I just can’t do it.  I think I am actually missing the gene for directions in my makeup and he has an extra dose.

One of the aspects of life that I have come to believe is when you have someone in your life that undoubtedly does something better than you, let them do it!  Now I would love to develop this skill but I think that will never happen quite to my and his satisfaction.  Why struggle with tap dancing around it when you have Gene Kelly at your side to lead the way.

I would like to believe that I have many valuable gifts in life given to me by nature, nurture, and God above (in no special order).  My best gift though is probably my ability to enjoy other people’s gifts equal to or better than my own. 

Thank goodness that I can find my way to the computer each morning….

Day 44: I cheat …

Diets are daily challenges but there’s a reason most people cannot follow them…it requires humans to change their behaviors and that is nearly impossible.  We all look in the mirror and make resolutions especially after a bigger meal and even bigger dessert.  We are firm in our belief that this is the end of our bad behavior but then the next day comes and our memories are weak and our resolve even more so.

Why is this so?  Why can’t we just do it, like Nike says?  Human beings are emotional boats in rough seas and we are subject to our most inner weaknesses; we’re a veritable house of cards waiting to be blown down by the smallest breeze.  I think we, as a group, are also too flexible and believe there is always another day, fiddle Dee Dee.

Changing behavior requires a strict or nearly strict observance of change, a determination that requires an open and clear focus.  We have to keep it in our consciousness, a very frontal lobe kind of thing. 

The older I get, the more I realize that my body is no longer under warranty and that any changes or modifications are up to the owner; so what’s the problem?

First of all, we are clearly creatures of habit; before I can do anything, I am in the kitchen warming up my homepage and waiting patiently for Joe to make coffee. This is all done without thinking…it’s protocol in the morning.  I like to tell people, don’t talk to me until I have had my coffee but that’s not really true, I can talk, walk, and even write before coffee on occasion.

Secondly, at 59, I think I am already “cooked.” At the most I can be “reheated” but the meal cannot be changed at this point or can it? 

Thirdly, how much of my day is spent on automatic pilot rather than with real focus and determination.  Hours and minutes are like savings accounts, if you don’t put anything into them, they don’t grow.

I believe that I can make changes in my life;  I am living proof of this but saying no to my inner child who wants that ice cream from Ralph’s is a lot harder than saying no to the adult that peacefully coexists in my head.  We’re all too permissive with our children (our inner ones and outer ones);oh well,  I need to detox from all of the sugar, ice cream, and cake I ate yesterday….today…I’ll be good, I hope.

Day 43: What are you reading me on?

If I had my way, there would be an endless supply of protected WIFI (oxymoron, I know) available everywhere in the world.  Along with billions of other users, I am now a victim of my technology but happy about it.  I get to Skype with my son (when’s he’s available) or my ex (when he’s available); work in cyberspace on multiple platforms (I use both a MAC and a Windows 7 machine) and finger my Blackberry in between.

It seems that I cannot get enough types of technology to suit me.  We are over a year away from ending our current smart phone contract and looking forward to our next phone and new service.  This stuff keeps me really busy and here I am typing my thoughts once again into cyberspace for someone (anyone?) to read and think about.

What is it about technology that is so sexy?  It must be sex that keeps us focused on these little machines; what else could make grown adults be so focused and intense with moments of exhilaration (am I getting too graphic for you?).  Technology has replaced so many other human platforms in life that I worry on occasion how long I am attached to my electric partners.  It’s gotten so bad that I put into my Google calendar when to call friends and “say hello” and arrange adult play dates…

But just the same; I am addicted to this technology and unable (unwilling) to give it up.  What’s worse, the more I investigate the technology I use; the more upkeep is necessary.  Although the downloads for upgrades are pretty regular from each of the major companies, it seems that each time we get one, especially from Microsoft, the update requires manipulation from the user; Bill Gates loves to keep me busy fixing his mistakes.

Why do I keep so many platforms to use?  Well, that’s a good question.  At one point, I needed a Windows machine for my job; there was not enough crossover software for interacting with proprietary issues (how geeky do I sound?) but now there is no excuse. 

I need to eliminate the Windows world, the Blackberry world and focus on one platform but I am afraid.   My Windows desktop is rather old in tech terms (one year old); my Mac is even considered ancient (5 years old) and my Blackberry is the youngest but most frustrating (hate those tiny buttons) and you really cannot surf the net no matter what they say.

I love the technology of the iphone (that’s why I have the itouch and the ipad (the senior citizen version of the itouch).  The screen, the colors, the vibrancy of the tool is unparalleled but no one machine fills the void enough to be “the one.”  Where is Mr. Anderson (Neo) when you need him (The Matrix reference for you non-nerds).

I guess I’ll just have to settle for enjoying my technology regardless of platform.  I’ll continue to scan the cyberspace horizons for my next purchase and I’ll spend the remainder of my time updating the existing ones , at least I’m happy…

Day 42: I’m Helpful Girl; dressed in pink...

Years ago, I met a wonderful teacher that I had the privilege to work with…she was the queen of all that is pink.  By that I mean, there was no one ever with a sunnier disposition than she and she wore a lot of pink clothing.

At first I thought her behavior was an act, put on for her role as a teacher but the more I worked and “played” with her, the more I could see that she was authentic.  I learned a lot from her as she engaged with students, staff, and parents but my favorite memory (other than the fact that we were both majorettes for a school assembly) was her motto of being “helpful always and leaving things better than when she found them”.

Now this sounds straightforward enough, I assure you, but in practice it was quite a daunting task.  Sometimes this involved getting teenagers to clean, strip beds in a hotel, and perform other ungodly teenage tasks.  I have to report that not only did she do this effortlessly but she pulled all of the surrounding people into the process.  There were times when we were tripping over each other to help.  The reason for this is simple:  when you meet someone like her and you can bask in her personal sunlight, you just want to that’s all.

One of her talents was her willingness to try whatever was necessary to engage students and make them (all of us) believe in themselves.  She was the advisor to student government in a large metropolitan high school as well as a math teacher; a little incongruous perhaps?  Her unflappable style, her ability to warm the group she was with, and her undying optimism were her hallmark characteristics.

I found myself unable to say no as the principal (bad situation to be in honestly) but everything she asked for was essential to the growth and development of our students and there was a lot of excitement and entertainment along the way.  She encouraged me to be more of myself rather than focus on my work title personality.  As a result, I taught Tai Chi to the students; choreographed a jazz number and taught it to over 160 students and then performed this dance for the entire school; dressed like a Hersey Kiss, and, in general, reached into more of who I was as an individual. I found parts of me that I did not know existed.

I was a tough principal, I needed to be, but she found my soft and emotional center and showed me how to display it without compromising my nature.  For this I will be forever grateful.

Since it is my policy to never name anyone but immediate family in my blogs, I cannot name this shining star, the queen of pink but I will send this to her and her husband…who also wears pink in a manly manner of course and who also teaches math and is an outstanding human being in his own right; would you expect less? 

We need to tell others about the positive influence they have had on our lives.  She taught me to be “helpful girl”  “the dancing queen” one unafraid to reach deep into my heart and be the person I wanted to be…thanks MT.  I know you are enjoying your life… I wear pink now.  I’ve earned it and learned it.

Day 41: I don’t read directions….

I know it is frustrating for some people but I do not read directions.  I’d rather put the “thing” together, no matter what it is, rather than read about it first and follow the diagram. Why?  I’m not sure but I have been told it relates to my learning style.  The truth might be that I am too impatient to wait and read the directions…or it might be that all directions are written by people who do not teach and therefore know little to nothing about how to relate information to others and end of writing unintelligible information (this is why so much direction language has been replaced by pictures.)  Either way, directions are frustrating and annoying to me and simply delay the project.

I like to put my hands into the project right away; I’m more of a cake maker not a bowl licker. I’m a “hands on” kind of person.  It is for this reason that I tend to take over projects from others in my frustration that the project begins too slowly.  This often has two negative results:  I annoy some people by being too pushy and I frustrate others by leaping before I look, so-to-speak.

There is nothing wrong with my learning style of diving into the project (except for the annoying side affects to others of course), and there is nothing wrong with the planner types who read the directions and pantomime the project before starting either; we’re just different that’s all.

Some years ago, I read an article about these two learning styles in comparison.  They gave the same projects to build small model boats to pairs of these types.  The results:  Each person finished the models in the same amount of time, give or take a few minutes, regardless of their styles.

Planner types are patient and careful people; they are pre-thinkers who spend time analyzing all the steps before they start.  They feel this assures them of more success and it hits their comfort zone of being precise.

For me, this takes away some of the magic of putting things together; the challenge of determining what goes where and why; the putting together of the puzzle before me.  What’s interesting is that planner types seem attracted to people like me (what do you call us…impetuous, rash, experiential types?) and vice versa.  I have always believed that we seek the missing ingredients of who we are in others and that there is a natural seeking of these missing factors in looking for partners in our lives.

I have fallen in love only twice in my life and each time I chose a planner man so if you use me as the example, the survey says “yes” we choose others who possess the missing ingredients or complimentary factors of who we are when choosing a mate. 

I like this idea for many reasons but mostly because becoming a couple with another person must have more reasons than initial attraction; you need a deeper connection, more than biological, more than physical. Unlike current thinking, I still believe in the complete relationship, defined as one in which you share a new personality together as a couple that you didn’t have as a single person.  I like learning from my other side of the couple, Joe.  I like emulating his skills and knowledge base.  I like copying his thinking from time to time...

I will always be the exciting and impetuous individual that I am (although I have slowed a bit; cured with age if you will) but I love the strength of his anchoring personality that keeps me grounded and feeling safe.  You cannot always have your feet off of the ground you know…

Day 40: How many colors can you see in a sunrise?

The colors of the world are astounding and in my mind cannot be duplicated by any mere human.  As a closet artist, I like to paint but I don’t; I like to sculpt but I don’t and I marvel at the natural art all around me.

What is it about nature that she has such a startling and accurate brush that fluctuates day by day?  It doesn’t matter whether or not the day begins with rain and the raindrops becomes small magnifying glasses for the art already displayed or the day begins with sunshine and the dizzying colors that are highlighted by the sun; nature has developed an exceptional artist’s hand in whatever she displays. What makes Nature so unique is that she doesn't mind all levels of her art; she displays her successes as well as her failures in all their magnificence.

Years ago, I attempted to try my hand at art with both painting and sculpting.  Getting my hand to obey my mind was more than just a challenge, it was nearly impossible.  What I saw in my mind was clear and exact; getting my hands to produce the same image was fuzzy and inexact.

Now my family “might” say that I am being too hard on myself that my attempts at art development were pleasant and acceptable but they could never see what I saw in my mind; what I was really attempting to create and the frustration that ensued from uncooperative hands.

I am grateful for the fact that I have an “eye” in my mind as to what I would like to recreate in an art form.  Some people tell me that this is half the battle and that art is the result of the struggle between the hand and the mind but I am a stubborn individual and this answer is unacceptable.  Talent, I have learned, is more about control than I would have thought.

I get a lot of questions from people about writing a daily blog and how I can keep up with this act of contrition (for that is what it is at times).  My art, writing, requires no real effort for me.  It just flows from my fingers with no real difficulty and I am grateful and lucky that this is true.

Art, some say, is evaluated by the eye of the beholder but there are some consistencies as to what most of us consider as real art.   It’s easy to ignore the art around us, the art within us, and the art of our lives.  Opening your eyes is half the battle, opening your heart is essential; being conscious and cognizant is the most imperative.  Enjoy the colors….

Day 39: Are rhinestones really diamonds?

When I was young, I always wanted some rhinestones on my clothes but never got them.  My mother told me they were too expensive for us and they were.  They were pretty but frivolous she said and they were.

Growing up poor, you have a tendency to evaluate the items you buy based on expensiveness rather than quality or at least I did.  The older I got, the more I pressed myself and then my family to purchase “the best of everything.”  What this usually resulted in was price over quality and a phenomenal waste of money. (Wish I had some of that cash back now…)

After shopping for my clothes and personal items in Walmart and BJ’s these days, I came to an important realization:  quality is not based on price and vice versa.  I heard a woman speaking to her adult son, asking him about some items in the men’s clothing section.  He clearly turned his nose up at the suggestion and was only along to take his elderly mother shopping (he was the transportation director for the moment).   I wanted so badly to intercede on her behalf and tell him that his mother was clearly right about this suggestion but of course it wasn’t my place to do so.

It’s a shame that we have such difficulty especially in our society for defining the difference between rhinestones and diamonds.  They both sparkle, they both make me feel special, and they are both, now, within my price range but what of that?  Just because you may have the money, does it mean the purchase is necessary or worth the “value”?

If you showed me a cubic zirconium and a real diamond to compare, I, the average person without any training, would not be able to tell you the difference if all things such as cut, size and setting were the same.  Would you know if I bought my Jones of New York clothing item at BJ’s or the anchor store?  Could you tell that the diamond earrings I am wearing are real… or are they?

Things are rarely what they seem to be in all aspects of life especially when glitter or sparkle is involved.  That being true, then I am choosing to be smart and elect quality over price; non-label over label (unless it’s on sale at BJ’s), and common sense over advertisement.  I prefer to sparkle on the inside right now, it lasts longer and is much prettier I assure you.

I think that I am finally growing up and I like that.  I am not embarrassed to hear my mother’s voice come out of my mouth and realize that she was right about a lot of things.  By the way, my new Mets t-shirt purchased at BJ’s has rhinestones on it, at last…

Day 38: I could have danced all night…

I love musicals, any musical; especially the corny ones (are there other kinds?).  They’re all great and they’re all set in a similar venue with a recognizable storyline.  Boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets better girl or original girl; it doesn’t matter.  What’s most important is: the music, the dancing, and the singing.  The story line is small in comparison and is simply a vehicle to carry the music much like cake is the vehicle to carry the icing.  Isn’t that true for you as well?

There are so many great musicals and they carried me through my childhood into adulthood with great memories.  I can hear my own voice singing loudly as a teenager walking up Elm Avenue with my best friend Debbie singing songs from the Sound of Music as loudly as we could; turning around and around looking for the Alps.

What is it about these movies that hold tightly to our heart strings if it’s not the plot?  This is not to demean the storylines which are complicated enough sometimes.  It’s just the music and the songs were so much more impressive.  They made you want to sing out loud, regardless of your ability to shine in this regard and they made you want to dance.  How many times have I dreamt of being lifted high in the air by the man of my dreams?

And how about the fact that everything gets resolved at the end regardless of the circumstances.  Remember, the Sound of Music had World War II as the backdrop, how dreary can you get?

Yes, musicals are dream events; ones whereby you can be the beautiful young woman ready to meet the wonderful young man.  Although you have to overcome some obstacles, everything works out in the end.

The dancing was so significant for me, even though the music was key.  I remember trying to practice some dance steps.  I think this was one of the reasons I wanted desperately to be a majorette in high school; it was the closest thing to being in a musical:  great costumes, loud music, dancing (no singing except in my head) and some twirling.

Our majorette coach, Mrs. Adele Little, was a former Radio City Music Hall Rockette or at least that was the rumor; I never looked it up on the internet to see if it were true, but I believe it.  She had a fierce attitude and was a bit of a perfectionist (wrong job for a perfectionist coaching high school girls) but we tried to please her as much as we could.

She taught me the only real dance moves I had ever learned at that point; it was like heaven to me.  I would then teach the dancing steps to my non-majorette friends as we glided along the blacktop of our school’s parking lot in teenage euphoria.

Dancing can make you believe you’re Julie Andrews if that is your goal; singing can make you believe you’re Shirley Jones. Together, dancing and singing can make you step into heaven regardless of your talent.  I say bring on the musicals; sing at the top of your lungs; move those feet, lift those legs; welcome to my dream world…it’s a lovely place to visit!

Day 37: I always land on my feet, just like a cat...

They say that cats always land on their feet; I’ve seen scientific experiments showing this phenomenon on TV. They dropped cats from amazing heights reaching up to 25 feet and they landed…on their feet.  No one said whether or not it hurt the cat’s feet but I imagine it did a bit.

I always land on my feet.  It seems that no matter what life throws at me; it doesn’t seem to be able to knock me down.  I know that now in retrospect but I didn’t always realize this.

Growing up with a complicated life situation, I learned that there is always tomorrow and tomorrow is sure to be better than today.  This is a retrospective perspective I assure you.  There were so many times when I felt like giving up and I am glad I didn’t for sure. I have so much to be thankful for, especially at this point in my life.

How are the gifts of life distributed I always wondered?  It seems that most of them are given out in a haphazard manner: some to those who we deem undeserving, others to those who have enough already and don’t seem to need more (am I a little repetitious?), others to those who get them just in the nick of time, and others to those in their own category who seem to help themselves.  I have probably fallen into each of these categories and I expect most of us do as well.

Deserving something tends to be a description made by others who are spectators of the situation rather than deservers (did I just make up a word?).  Most of us on the receiving end don’t seem to understand this until we look backward and recognize the gift from the gods of life.

Gifts are just that… gifts, presents for the present that seem to appear out of nowhere.  As a child and later as an adult, I remember hoping conscientiously for things and never getting them and just when I didn’t think or hope for something, it appeared.  Sometimes a gift arrived ahead of my need and in examination after the fact; I realized this gift filled a huge need.

After my divorce, I kept rather to myself doing a lot of thinking.  I had moved, had no current friends in my new location, no job, just an apartment and my sweet dog, Claudie.  Thinking about my circumstances was my job; reviewing my life, not looking ahead but only looking backward in sadness and then, miracle of miracle, gifts began to arrive unexpectedly.

I met a few people, got a job (not the one I wanted but it paid the bills) and then met Joe. Four years later and I cannot believe how many gifts I received in hindsight.  Joe came with a wonderful family, especially his mom who is now my mom. Claudie passed away but then came Zeffy my new sweet pupper.  I started my own consulting business and did well.  I made a lot of new friends, good ones, and several older ones resurfaced (as I did) from life's circumstances.

Having your feet on the ground gives you courage, support, and happiness to know that you’re back and able to face the newest challenges that are surely coming.  It’s nice to know you can land on your feet, even if it hurts a little from the height you fell.

Day 36: The internet is a slam book…

I saw my first slam book in the fourth grade.  For those of you who do not know, a slam book was a simple composition book with a listing of numbers in the front page from say 1 to one hundred where you signed your name.  This gave you permission to then comment on the people in the following pages who were listed by name.  Usually the people you made comments on were the same people who signed the front of the book (it used to be a rule).  You made a brief comment and then signed your assigned number under the comment. These books were ruled illegal by the school teachers and were, in fact, confiscated by them on regular occasions, much to our dismay (my first experience with contraband). 

Since we did not have back packs then, only book bags, if was difficult to put these slam books away in a hurry and so we regularly got caught and were reprimanded for possessing them.  What was so bad about these comments in the slam book?  In those days, the 50’s, we did not say really bad things about people.  Our comments were very “white bread” in nature and usually consisted of things like, “talks too much, good dancer, or too tall”.  Well it was the fourth grade, what were you expecting?

I can only remember one comment about me and I loved it.  Someone, number 49, said I was a “good dancer.”   Before I could look up who number 49 was, the teacher snatched the book.  I was heartbroken.  What if number 49 was a boy?  Oh well, I’ll never know but this was harmless, silly fun and it was a chance to share some inner thoughts with a few documented friends.

Now the internet is the largest slam book I could ever have imagined.  The only problem is that it is filled with not so “white bread” comments that will last for time perpetuity.  Most people get on the internet to rant and rave about what they don’t like.  Very few get on to say how happy they are (except me of course.)  It’s difficult to find positive comments about things.  Have you ever tried shopping for a new appliance and have scanned to read reviews about them?  All of the happy contented people are absent from the reviews.  Most people hate the product, are sorry they ever laid eyes on it and warn you to avoid this product at all costs.

There are no boundaries on the internet; no where you are responsible to leave your name so you can be held accountable for your comments so you are encouraged to say anything, no matter how damaging or hurtful and move on.  This is unfortunate because people read the internet comments you make and assume there is some truth in what is said.  What I have come to surmise is this:  if you are happy with something, you say nothing, if you unhappy you say too much.  So let’s put a statistic on this:  if there are 12 negative comments on a product or person, let us assume there are 82 positive ones unwritten because that is how it goes.

I am sure there may have been a negative comment or two about me in the slam book of fourth grade.  I was extremely skinny and very toothy.  All I can remember is “good dancer” because the book is gone and so is my negative memory of it.  Shouldn’t the internet be the same way?  Have a happy father’s day to all….especially to my Joe and Jimbeau.  May your memories be only good ones.

Day 35: I am a puzzle, solve me...

I am a puzzle, we all are, a composite drawing in at least four dimensions (counting time as a factor) created piece by piece, molded by the people and experiences we encounter throughout our lifetime.  My puzzle is a lot like yours,  its made of good and bad feelings, bright moments and dark days; touched by encounters, those who stayed with us; those who left us.

Most puzzles have a picture front but their pieces really tell the story, don’t they.  Have you ever noticed how so many pieces are similar in shape and size; these represent the common experiences in our lives.  Other shapes are odd, unusual in size, color and shape and these represent the significant moments.

My puzzle has so many pieces and represents a long and full lifetime of experiences.  The ones I choose to remember are the best of course; these are the ones that require the most smiles and sighs of contentment.

Some of my puzzle pieces are:  The day my son was born and he took my breath away, the day Joe came to my door and I saw his handsome face, the day I picked up Zeffy in my arms, the day I met Jim on the second floor of the dorm, my first day in college, my arrival in Poland, my first kiss, my first day working as a teacher, playing horsey with my sister, walking through Ephesus with my family; everything about Florence and the Ponte Vecchio, Rome, Costa Rica, Greece; the day at the oracle at Delphi.

Now I do realize that not all puzzles are jigsaw or picture puzzles and we can carry this theme easily into other types: our lives are clearly anagrams as we rearrange the letters of our lives day by day; or crossword puzzles where one day or moment is dependent upon another for completion; how about maze puzzles where we can be so easily lost or misdirected as we travel the path.

Life may be a riddle; we may be puzzles in process but remember why we seek to play with puzzles.  Puzzles are challenging, brain exciters, that lead us astray on purpose to make the moment more exciting than before. 

I like being a puzzle; I choose to examine my intricate pieces and to enjoy the placement of each and every one.    I know like many puzzlers, I will put the outside pieces together before I fill in the middle because it is easier.  I’ll try not to get confused by pieces that look alike or ones that are nondescript because they are equally as important as the unique ones.

I’ll do my best to solve the puzzle and enjoy the final result...me.

Day 34: I believe....That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

A good friend sent me a great email today.  I always read her emails because she is an incredible person: warm, sensitive, funny, and a good friend.  The funny part of this is we don’t have a lot of history as friends.  We were “friends” in high school (which means we walked the same hallways) and I know that she did not know the real me but more importantly, I did not know the real “her.”

She impresses me so much, the more I communicate with her, the more I read her Facebook postings, the more I see the woman she’s become.  She was probably always a great kid but I didn’t know it.  The farther I go back in time examining my life, the more I realize that I lived in my own cocoon, I guess waiting to become the butterfly I am today.  We all build a cocoon of sorts and some never emerge from the safety of their protective coverings.  I know a few people who haven’t chosen or been able to exit their cocoons and, frankly, I worry about them.  It’s difficult to put yourself “out there” I know.  If you are encrusted in your own world, you miss so much.  You need to open up to feel the real world and to allow it to embrace you.

Hurt keeps so many people inside.  Hurt is a part of life; perhaps a necessary part of life.  When I think of my successes, I am not always sure how I achieved them or whether or not I benefitted from them.  When I examine my failures, I can actually track backwards to see how and why it happened and how to grow from the experience. Growth is limited in a cocoon I would think. 

Thanks JM for being the kind of woman I can be proud to know.  Thanks for thinking I am valuable.  Thanks for being one of the many people who have assisted me in opening my cocoon and emerging a better and more delightful butterfly.  You friendship makes me happy…

Day 33: The flood always recedes…

Flooding occurs regularly in my neighborhood.  It’s one of the disadvantages of living on south shore of Long Island at the beach.  It just happens and you have to expect it.

Sometimes, I wake up and get caught in the house for the day or the 2 to 3 hours it may take to recede.  Other times, I’ve come home only to find I cannot get home.  Does this sound normal?  Well for us, it is.

The flooding has taught me a few things, the least of which is patience.  There is nothing you can do but wait.  I have learned that a movie is a great alternative when I cannot go home.  When I’ve had my little pupper Zeffy with me, I visit friends with dog friendly homes.  This has resulted in surprise visits to people nearby (with no flooding).  You really know who your friends are when you have to show up with a dog in tow to wait out the flood.

You have to learn planning when you live in a flood zone. In the beginning, my neighbors were kind enough to give us a heads up on the flood although initially, we did not heed their advice.  I thought, how bad can it be, a little water?  Well, at times, this place looks more like Holland than New York!  All we need is a few tulips and windmills.

You also need to realize that cars must be underwashed if you drive them through any part of the flooding.  This is salt water folks and the flooding can permanently damage your car.

Flooding has so many parallels in life.  I think sometimes God is telling me to slow down, quiet my mind, and get back to what is important.  He’s also reminding me that I’m not in charge and I need to heed this.  Too often in my mind, I have felt the weight of the world on my shoulders as if I had the ability to make it turn on its axis.  I am just another person on this planet, not the chief engineer.  So guilt be gone (easier said than done…)! I am not in charge.

I had dinner with some wonderful women last night (and lunch with another amazing girlfriend as well; what a fabulous day).  Yesterday was an “estrogen day” for me which I don’t get enough of.  I have not had enough experience enjoying the company of my woman friends and I am correcting this fact everyday now.  I make sure I write to my friends by email, call them, and make dates with them as much as possible. 

Women do not make enough time for themselves and now that I am semi-retired, I not only see the need but the desire to spend more and more time with other women.  Some are younger and some are older but they are all magnificent I assure you.

The flood makes you slow down and think.  I suppose I am enjoying the fact that God has forced me to do this.  Keep the floods coming, I am hoping to stay home today and putter around the house before it recedes and forces me out the door… to do something else.

Day 32: Gravitate towards, never run from…

Gravity is an interesting concept; it’s what keeps our feet on the ground (yet what keeps our minds grounded)? I’ve always liked the idea of something holding me carefully onto the earth, some invisible godlike force gently keeping me from floating off into space.  It seems that science or God did a good job when it came to this and other factors that make this rock of a planet a home for all of the special creatures, me included.

Science has taught us many facts, gravity being just one, but I have learned that the older I get, the more science can seem to explain away many of the former secrets in life that other concepts, such as religion, once were the primary answer. However, this world is too organized and interwoven for it to be an accident or simply the result of evolutionary processes in my opinion.  Although I clearly understand evolution, there is still so much that is unaccounted for when you look at the big picture.  How did all of this life come together in such a balanced harmony?  How is it that we can ruin so much of this earth and yet it continues to heal itself from our sins? How does this work?

I’m really a simple person and I think most people are as well. I know that when it’s cloudy I’m sad (seasonal affective disorder, I’m told) and when it’s sunny I’m happy.  This is why Florida is sooooo good for me although it is considered “God’s waiting room” I don’t mind because there are so many sunny days and that makes me happy.

I know that when I am with someone I love (or like a lot), I am contented simply by their closeness; that even without talking, we can share a special space created by our nearness. Why are human beings so affected by both proximity and touch?

Why is the olfactory sense such a keen memory holder? I appreciate the scent of honeysuckle in the morning when I run, in fact, it is intoxicating and I marvel how it can throw my mind back to positive memories of the past when as a child I gathered honeysuckle to eat as we walked the back farms on Long Island.  I remember playing with my sister, fantasizing about what we would be as adults (if we ever made it and we did) and playing marvelous imaginary games as we walked through the mostly untrodden pathways. 

I remember going to ride other people’s horses bareback as we snuck onto their properties never thinking about what we would do if we were ever caught and never showing any concern for the fact that we really didn’t know how to ride horses at that point of our lives.

I understand that life is cycles of do, rinse, repeat: that we all end of where we began and that we have a tendency to evolve ourselves however slowly yet retain the purest essence of who we are in our souls.

Life is a good and pure concept, one we shouldn’t waste or ignore. The sun is calling me now forcing me to smile at its brilliance.  This is going to be a great day, gravity is holding onto me; Joe is holding on to me, and I get to see wonderful friends today, what could make anyone happier?

Day 31: What I want to be when I grow up...

There has been a plethora of people and news agencies interviewing women over 50 lately; have you noticed?  We are being looked at as a distinctive grouping, prodded and examined by so many that I am beginning to feel…that I may be influential… finally.

We are a large group and we seem to be confusing for many reasons:  we are the first group of grandmothers, almost grandmothers, CEO’s, workers, money makers, home makers, and more importantly, money processors that are fairly well educated, outspoken, and strong willed.  And more notably, we have our own money to purchase things.  Yes, we are the commodity buyers and so we are essential to the world economy.  Even if we live with others, we are the primary purchasers in our households, so we are worth mentioning to others, at last.

I remember the 60’s, 70’s, and afterward (too many decades to recall at once).  Remember the meaning attached to the “teeny bopper (is our newborn king uh huh)”? Our darling pre-teens and teens had the eye of the media and were thought to be the key consumer in our society because of their buying power a collective unit.  But, I ask you, even then, where did these kids get their money?

Money seems to always have been the basis for just about everything in our societal rulings but those who are examining the over 50 aged women are missing a key component in their analysis.  We are significant because of our accomplishments not because we “buy things.”  We are the first group of women to successfully navigate the world of work and the home simultaneously and still remain sexy at the same time.  We gave birth to others (which no man has ever achieved, giggle), managed homes and offices, and stayed active in the bedroom all at the same time (men need Viagra, women don’t). We are doing more, living longer, raising our children’s children (sometimes), and making our homes so nice, our adult children don’t want to leave (that’s a pity, isn’t it).

How do I know that I am suddenly important to the media?  Let’s see, 50 is the new 30; Betty White in commercials (of course I know she’s older than 50), all of our music groups have been reactivated and are touring again; any Dove commercial (soap or ice cream, you pick); Old Spice commercials clearly aimed at me (don’t you just love them!), and every news show is moving towards having their own Meredith Vieira personality.

Now that we know we’re important, what does this mean? It means we have a new responsibility to use our power, for good.  Women have always been the “head” on the shoulders of the family, the cautious ones, the thinkers before you act, by and large. Unfortunately, women have always been guarded against other women (we’re not good at trusting each other, are we?).  We fall for the “man in charge” mentality and quickly give our power over to others.

Let’s not do that this time; let’s see what this new found interest in us produces: better products for us, better politicians (is that even possible??); a better society…

Let’s get out in front and do more leading than following; more talking instead of listening; more using our brains instead of just our hearts (we do tend to be an emotional group...) The more respect I get, the happier I feel however, I would caution us to remember the axiom, power is like vacation days at the job, use it or lose it.

When I grow up, I want to be ….me.

Day 30: Being happy is something you have to learn (Harrison Ford)

I have always been a good learner, at least, as an adult.  Becoming a first-rate learner was effortless after I became a good, practiced teacher. It seems that teachers have the key to learning and we secretly pass it along to our students and others on a person-by-person basis or classroom-by-classroom basis.

I’m not sure when I gained the keys to the kingdom of learning but at some point I did.  Learning is, simply put, the obverse of teaching and developing lesson plans, scheduling for the unique learning needs of my students, and building quality lessons, taught me most of what I needed to know about learning; however, I did not realize how this learning application could be useful in other aspects of my life.

Taking the mental leap and realizing that happiness requires learning was a subtler process in my mind.  Is it really that simple?  Is happiness just another process to learn and is it clearly within our control?

It seems that after 30 days of writing this blog, I have learned a number of important concepts and I will put my teacher hat on to teach these to you.

• Happiness requires a consciousness and awareness by the individual; beauty is in the eye of the beholder…
• Everyone can learn to be happy; just as everyone is capable of learning (really everyone is capable of learning, this is not just a platitude…)
• Happiness requires a sorting of one’s life’s thoughts and emotions and a filing of negative aspects that are not in your control; letting go of the worthless emotions; strengthening the positive ones
• Happiness is an occasional measure that surfaces from time to time and can be extended or strengthened by simply recognizing it and enjoying it
• Happiness can be planned and developed
• Happiness can be shared but it is not a necessity
• Happiness can be learned

Let me more specific.  Learning is the process whereby you engrain some image or information in your brain so that recall is available and somewhat accurate. The importance of this science of learning is that learning is a “learned” concept itself; a shared wisdom, if you will.  Through science, we understand that your brain is like a series of file cabinets that are controlled by neurons that store the file cabinet information and make them accessible.  The best learning style, stores “like information in like file cabinets” making the information more accessible to its owner.  This is why teachers always start with a known concept before moving onto the unknown concept for their students.

What this boils down to is simply this:

Make a happiness file cabinet in your brain, something resembling a picture album.  If you consciously do this; storing future happiness thoughts will be easier and more easily accessible in the future.  Happiness is both a current moment and/or a remembered moment, you choose.

I keep a happiness file in my desk for days that aren’t so happy.  Now I have learned to have one in my head as well; it takes up less space... Be happy, learn to be happy…it works! ;)

Day 29: Perspective: Size does matter…

Whenever I feel overwhelmed by life, I run to the ocean.  It’s a simple matter because I need to put my life issues in perspective and the water, wind, sky and beach seem to do that for me. The ocean has many healing aspects and amusing potentials and I always need to be healed and/or entertained.

The enormity of the ocean is what I am looking to feel.  The intensity of the waves is another.  If I am lucky enough to be at the shore in a warm or summerlike climate, I can also take pleasure in the many characters (both human and other) that I observe there as well.  Here are some of my favorites:

•           The waders: those people afraid of commitment who go only so far (ankle high) into the water and who retreat at the first sign of a contest with the water.
•            The challengers: those people, usually teenage boys, who run unabashedly into the largest wave they can, headfirst, engulfing themselves in water with incredible smiles of achievement.
•           The admirers: those people who never tempt the water at all but admire it from a distance.
•             The fishermen: those people who are practical, yet challenging, waiting to take something of value from the sea; hoping for the prize; waiting for others to approach at the first sign of a catch to admire and discuss.
•           The meek contestants: those people who confront the waves only to retreat as soon as the wave returns.

The interesting aspect of these human competitors at the beach is that they are matched by varying species of birds that are parallel to them in almost every way. 

There are the little shore birds who are the contestants running into the retreating wave for food dropped by the ocean and who have an amazing high-speed response to the returning wave (run away, run away). Then there are the gulls that wait as the admirers on the shore and who are more interested in human food options than other birds. My favorite are the pelicans who fall into the category of the challenger/fishermen dropping headlong into the waves to perhaps obtain a fish, perhaps just to land in a precarious spot, dominating the ocean as they do.

A pelican reminds me of the theory, or is it fact, that birds are the primary descendents of the dinosaurs.  They actually resemble pterodactyls as they fly over the water hunting, playing, grouping.  They are graceful yet dominating in their flying patterns. However, when they finally land somewhere other than the ocean, say on a pole at the dock, they lose that dominance and appear, in my opinion, rather silly with their oversized heads and beaks; it’s all in the point of view, isn’t it?

It’s wonderful how the world ignores me as I observe and record these images; how small and insignificant I actually am. This is part of the perspective that heals my mind and spirit at the ocean. I need to realize how insignificant my problems are from time to time; to understand that what’s happening in my head is inconsequential to the larger world around me; to see the rest of the world in its magnificence in contrast to me; to realize that I may be viewed as silly after gaining a new perspective. It’s nice to laugh at oneself or in spite of oneself.

And finally, if I am lucky enough, I get to the ocean on a windy, wild weather day where the waves are large and pounding the shore creating a more challenging environment for all. The violence of the ocean is calming to me, what does that say about me?  The wind whips my mind into silence; the deafening waves quiet my brain; and the laughter of people all around rights my heart.

There are always ways to feel better and I am glad I have learned this, finally.

Day 28: Please, please, me oh yeah, like I please you...

As I continue my blog, my true confessions, what has seemed to become “my personal advice column”, I really have begun to enjoy the comments I receive (so please continue to send them! I particularly enjoy the ideas for new day “columns”). The feedback is remarkable and I am so flattered that so many people have connected with my resonating thoughts; what I call my brain echoes.  Hope I continue to please, because I am a pleaser.

A pleaser is a person who simply wants others to be happy or so I once believed.  I’ve always thought this was a great thing to make others cheerful until I saw that Dr. Phil says it’s an addiction.  OH come on, an addiction? Well, with my background, I guess I was destined to have one addiction or another.

According to the new psychological definition, I am one who is unlikely to stop and evaluate my own needs before others (true; sometimes); I need approval and recognition (ok, true again; is there someone who doesn’t need it?); usually endured early childhood abuse (ok, once I again, I admit, my category);blame others for not appreciating them (nope; this one doesn’t work for me); unable to ‘put your foot down and say no’ (definitely not me!)

Ok, so you won’t see my picture in Wikipedia next to the definition of “people pleaser”.   But I have a simple question, “when did everything become an addiction, a negative description for armchair psychologists to qualify and quantify? 

Our society is filled with people and people have problems from time to time; or all the time; we’re an emotional lot; after all we’re the only species that kills our own kind for no reason.  Some problems are large and others small but people are complicated animals and we, as a group, have survived eons without quantifying all of our personal identity issues.  My question is, will it make you happier to know that you have an identified and quantifiable issue?  I think I feel worse knowing that once I was a nice person, doing for others, and now I am a sad addicted individual only responding to others for the wrong reason.

New areas of negative focus are delivered by mass media each day.  Am I better off knowing about my PMS (if they find a cure, maybe, but I am so past that stage in life, so what, I survived). What about my need for understanding my personal psyche; do I really need that? 

A long time I ago I read somewhere that introspection stinks but I think that is the only way to understand yourself and enjoy who you are.  I am tired of being defined by others when the most important opinion of who I am is mine and mine alone (are you ok with that, hope so).

Let’ s revolt; let’s say we don’t care what diagnosis of our psyche is someone else’s; let’s say we like being us even if it means society has given us a moniker less desirable than others.  I am a people pleaser…did I please you today?  If so, then I guess I am happy.

Are-You-a-People-Pleaser-or-a-Lone-Wolf-from-a-KLUTZ-personality-quiz-book-not-me