Let Reality Be Reality

TRA2369Life is so much easier and more pleasurable to live, when I accept what comes with a good attitude. Recently another example proved that to be true.

The night before a trip out-of-town I looked at my itinerary. Originally thinking I departed at 6am, I was relieved to notice 7:05am as my departure time.Now I could sleep an hour or so later the next morning.

In order to get to the airport about an hour before departure (an advantage of living in a medium-sized city) the alarm brought me to my senses around 4:45am. I started the coffee pot, quickly posted my blogs written the night before and poured a cup of coffee just before heading to take a shower.

All went well and I parked at the airport right on schedule. Up to the airline kiosk to check in for my flight, swiped my credit card and up on the screen comes “YOU MISSED YOUR FLIGHT”. Looking at my itinerary again, I realized what I thought was my departure time was actually the arrival of my flight in the city where my connection was. Upset at myself momentarily as this was not the first time I had done exactly the same thing, I quickly silently said “let it go”. Accepting what had happened I asked the counter person for help.

Now the adventure begins. She puts me stand-by on a flight leaving in a half hour but says it is sold out. I hustle to the gate and walk up just as my name is being announced to come to the gate counter. I walk up, give my name and am handed a boarding pass in an exit row for a flight almost completely boarded. Settling into my seat I am feeling blessed and lucky, but concerned about getting on the four-hour connecting flight to my final destination.

Arriving on schedule I checked the monitors for my next flight leaving in 3 hours that I was booked standby for. It’s too soon for that flight to be listed, but another one to my final destination leaves in 35 minutes. I had already been told that particular flight was completely cold out, but thought it was worth a try. As fast as I could I made my way to the gate, explained I was flying standby to the agent and she said “I’ll see what she I can do and will announce your name if there’s a seat”. The aircraft was already two-thirds boarded when I walked up to the gate, so I had no great hope of getting on the flight. Then I heard my name announced, went to the counter and was giving a boarding pass for another aisle seat. I was blown away!

The moral of the story is a reminder to take life as it comes and not get upset. Had I been difficult or anything but engaging and nice I doubt either airline agent would have gotten me on a flight. My demeanor was pleasant and grateful. Most people appreciate that I have learned the hard way. It does not always work, but more often than not I attract what I need by being accepting of what comes AND treating other people well. Sounds simple, but most folks are so self-absorbed they get very upset when things don’t go their way and take it out on others.

My gratitude is deep to have learned this lesson well. It was not always so. Today I do my best to accept the curve balls thrown and to be cordial to others. What a difference both make. Giving what I want to receive makes is appear a lot more than I would have ever thought possible when younger.

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes.
Don’t resist them; that only creates sorrow.
Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally
forward in whatever way they like.
Lao Tzu

Psychology of Color

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It began with a FaceBook post yesterday by a dear friend: Ok…if someone would let me borrow a fluffy pink tutu, a tiara, a pink teddy bear, and then spin me like a ballerina into a pool of PINK and GLITTER, drag me out and force me to watch a chick flick…Id really appreciate it. 🙂 *collapses*

From Various sources on the web I came up how pink might affect people and posted it on FB. That led to info about two other colors yesterday. Then this morning I took a deeper look into a wider spectrum of color effects and share the Cliffs Notes version here.

There are four psychological primary colors: red, blue, yellow and green.

RED is the most emotionally intense color. It stimulates a faster heartbeat and breathing, gets noticed and makes the wearer appear heavier. Pure red is the simplest color, with no subtlety. It is stimulating, friendly and suggests strength, and warmth. At the same time, it can be perceived as demanding, aggressive, defiance, and straining.

BLUE is the color of the mind and is essentially soothing. Strong blues will stimulate clear thought and lighter, soft blues will calm the mind and aid concentration. It is serene and mentally calming and the color of clear communication. However, it can also be perceived as cold, unemotional, unfriendly, cold and aloof.

GREEN strikes the eye in such a way as to require no adjustment whatever and is, therefore, restful. Being in the center of the spectrum, it is the color of balance. We are reassured by green, on a primitive level. It brings harmony, refreshment, rest and restoration. It can also be the color of stagnation, blandness and boredom.

YELLOW is the strongest color, psychologically. The right yellow will lift spirits and self-esteem. It is the color of confidence and optimism. Too much of it, or the wrong tone can cause self-esteem to plummet, giving rise to fear and anxiety. Yellow is perceived as strong and creative, but also irrational, fragile, and depressed.

In combination the four primary colors create seven other secondary psychological colors: purple, orange, pink, grey, black, white and brown.

PURPLE – Positive: Spiritual, wealth, authenticity, truth, feminine, romantic. Negative: Introversion, decadence, inferiority, uneasiness, unrest. Rare in nature, purple can appear artificial.

ORANGE – Positive: Comfort, food, warmth, security, sensuality, passion, abundance, fun. Negative: Deprivation, frustration, frivolity, immaturity.

PINK – Positive: Tranquility, nurture, warmth, femininity, love, sexuality, survival of the species. Negative: Inhibition, emotional claustrophobia, emasculation, physical weakness.

GREY – Positive: Neutrality. Negative: Lack of confidence, dampness, depression, hibernation, lack of energy. Only color that has no direct psychological properties.

BLACK – Positive: Sophistication, glamour, security, emotional safety, efficiency, substance. Negative: Oppression, coldness, menace, heaviness. (PS: It is a myth that black clothes are slimming).

WHITE – Positive: Hygiene, sterility, clarity, purity, cleanness, simplicity, sophistication, efficiency. Negative: Sterility, coldness, barriers, unfriendliness, elitism.

BROWN – Positive: Seriousness, warmth, Nature, earthiness, reliability, support. Negative: Lack of humor, heaviness, lack of sophistication.

For me this info will get filed mentally under “conversation starters”. It was fun and interesting to dig up. I am grateful for the simple comment of a friend that was the catalyst to go find this stuff. (Thanks K.!)

Each day has a color, a smell.
Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni

Primary source: http://www.colour-affects.co.uk/psychological-properties-of-colours

Quit Thinking About It…

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The advantage of a bad memory
is that one enjoys several times
the same good things for the first time.
Friedrich Nietzsche

In my 20’s and 30’s the cover phrase for forgetfulness was “I must be getting old”. By the 40’s and 50’s the rationale had morphed into “must have had a senior moment”. Now almost out of the latter age decade I notice memory lapses on a regular basis. So far my forgetting is nothing to get worried about. However, there are the pesky things like names and titles on the tip of my tongue that I can’t sometimes conjure up at will. With those come the overused statements “quit thinking about it and it will come to you” or “you’ll think of it at 3 o’clock in the morning”. Both have an element of truth.

…I began to study and categorize midlife mental lapses as if they were so many butterflies. There was Colliding-Planets Syndrome, which occurs when you fail to grasp, until too late, that you’ve scheduled a child’s orthodontist appointment in the suburbs for the same hour as a business meeting in the city. Quick-Who-Is-She Dysfunction surfaces when you are face-to-face with someone whose name stubbornly refuses to come to mind. What-Am-I-Doing-Here Paranoia leaves you standing empty-handed in a doorway, trying to figure out what you’ve come for. The Damn-It-They-Were-Just-in-My-Hand Affliction leads to panicky moments spent looking for your favorite new sunglasses, when all the while they’re on top of your head. And Wrong-Vessel Disorder results in placing the ice cream in the pantry rather than the freezer. Cathryn Jakobson Ramin http://www.oprah.com/health/Midlife-Memory-Loss-How-to-Remember-More

First hand experience is mine with all five of those somewhat whimsical names Ms. Ramin calls types of forgetfulness. I have stood a friend up for lunch, called an acquaintance by the wrong name, gone to the kitchen and found I did not know why, gone looking for my glasses only to discover I was wearing them and put ice cream in the fridge instead of the freezer. But then hasn’t everyone? If you’re middle aged or more, I can’t imagine the answer is anything except “yes”.

A momentary loss of memory is most probably not a sign of Alzheimer’s, or if so it’s a very distant one. People between 65 and 75 face only a 4% chance of suffering from that sad, destructive disease, vs. a frightening 50% chance for those over 85 (see Alzheimer’s box). Yet almost all of us will be tripped up by forgetfulness from time to time as we age. Memory may begin to get a little shaky even in our late 30s, but the decline is so gradual that we don’t start to stumble until we’re 50ish. Therese Eiben, Fortune Magazine

Now having done a good bit of research I feel better and am grateful for my good health and relatively reliable memory. If my habit of “I don’t need to write that down. I’ll remember it.” can be broken everything will be just fine.

Right now I’m having amnesia
and déjà vu at the same time.
I think I’ve forgotten this before.
Steven Wright

What You Stand For

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Before you speak,
Let your words pass through THREE gates:
At the first gate, ask yourself, ‘Is it TRUE?’
At the second gate ask, ‘Is it NECESSARY?’
At the third gate ask, ‘Is it KIND?’
A Sufi saying

My self-analysis:

“Is it TRUE?” Generally, yes. I am not a liar but am guilty of enhancement from playing up some parts of the story and playing down others. I am not innocent of embellishment either. It’s not an easy thing to step back, see and then admit what one sees. My guilt is sometimes not telling the full truth, but selected parts instead. And admitting that to myself is a healthy thing to do for acceptance is half the battle.

“Is it NECESSARY?” Now I start to get into trouble. An honest self-appraisal tells me quickly I frequently talk too much and listen to little. In expressing myself, I am certain the quantity of words used can be excessive at times. Oh, to be as good of a listener as those who have been patient to listen to me!

“Is it KIND?” It is in my general consideration for others where I am most proud of myself for the three gates. The majority of the time I can answer with a resounding “”yes” that I go out of my way to be kind and thoughtful. It’s not always appreciated, but it is never wasted. I benefit from what I give and it matters little how others receive it.

With the school year ending about now, it begs what my grades for the “three gates” might be.
#1 – “Is it TRUE?” A solid “B” is earned I believe.
#2 – “Is it NECESSARY?” The best grade I can give is a “C”.
#3 – “Is it KIND?” I am pleased an overall “A-” would be accurate.

Not bad and all passing grades. However, I’m grateful my standards for myself are higher. The person who truly tries to do their best, always benefits from the effort. Today, if even in the humblest way, I will do better than yesterday.

How would you grade yourself?

There is nothing better…
than for you to be at your best,
for you to be at your own peace,
for you to be showing them in every way
who you are, and what you stand for.
Steve Maraboli

A Day for a Daydream

2586027821_d30d0ccc79What a day for a daydream
What a day for a daydreamin’ boy
And I’m lost in a daydream
Dreamin ‘bout my bundle of joy.

And even if time ain’t really on my side
It’s one of those days for takin’ a walk outside
I’m blowin’ the day to take a walk in the sun
And fall on my face on somebody’s new mowed lawn.

I’ve been havin’ a sweet dream
I been dreamin’ since I woke up today
It’s starrin’ me and my sweet dream
Cause she’s the one that makes me feel this way.

And even if time has passed me by a lot
I couldn’t care less about the dues you say I got
Tomorrow I’ll pay the dues for droppin’ my load
A pie in the face for bein’ asleep before dawn.

And you can be sure that if you’re feelin’ right
A daydream will last along into the night
Tomorrow at breakfast you may pick up your ears
Or you may be daydreamin for a thousand years.

What a day for a daydream
Custom made for a daydreamin’ boy
And now I’m lost in a daydream
Dreamin ‘bout my bundle of joy.
John Sebastian

While those lyrics are about being in love with someone in particular, I related to this old Lovin’ Spoonful tune more generally to loving life and appreciating a new day. After storms for days, seeing the sun this morning and the green bursting forth after the rain caused this melody to start playing in my head.

I am grateful for the dreams I had last night, this new day, the smells of the morning and sun beams dancing through my office window at this moment. Label me corny or even delusional, but an inability to share in a bit of my feeling this morning is only your loss. Life is more than half attitude. What kind have you chosen this morning? Each is the creator of his or her point of view.

Keep your face always toward the sunshine
and shadows will fall behind you.
Walt Whitman

One Kinds Action Leads To Another

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“Will there be anything else” she said to me as I sat the bottle of water on the counter of the airport store. I said “no” as I glanced at her name tag and saw “Asja”. I’m one of those people who has difficulty figuring out what letters and numbers on a vanity license plate are supposed to stand for. So I asked  “how do you pronounce your name?” having no idea the response to my question would be “Asia”. I responded “that’s a unique and pretty name. Does it have any particular meaning?” to which the young woman said “my mother is Asian and I’m the oldest daughter”.

The woman behind the counter at the airport store showed her appreciation I was interested and continued telling me about her two sisters’ names that were also clever and unique. What I will long remember was the joy in her eyes from being noticed as a person. Most often people in such service jobs are essentially unnoticed and treated at best like a utility and worst like they don’t have feelings.

Making full eye contact with people I momentarily interact with has become a cultivated habit. Looking fully into someone’s eyes as I say “thank you” has a positive effect. It enables me to hopefully put a little more good into the world knowing what I give comes back to me. If I have the chance to momentarily interact with a stranger in some meaningful little way I am pleased.

Everyone wants to matter to the world; to be noticed; to be seen as worthy and of value. Everyone matters. No one has a job that makes them less than, no matter how humble it may be.

Age has given me enough wisdom to realize I should not judge people by their clothes, appearance or what he or she does to make a living. I don’t know a stranger’s story and what they have gone through prior to arriving in my presence. I’m human and sometimes still fall into assessing a person too much, too quickly. Each time I catch myself doing that I become a little more committed to not doing it.

Some people I don’t know who I intentionally begin a short conversation with probably wonder what’s up with me. Most respond positively to my attention but some look baffled and don’t respond well. Am I some sort of Holy Roller, on happy drugs or delusional might be the sort of thing a few think. However, it has been my experience most appreciate being “noticed and seen”. I always hope each one remembers me positively. I always do them.

The more I embrace the world and people in it the more I like being alive. Whether it is flowers looking to have more vibrant color because I notice them or the smile on a person’s face who usually gets little attention, it all benefits me. I am grateful to realize that it is me that receives the greatest benefit…always. What is given comes back multiplied.

No kind action ever stops with itself.
One kind action leads to another.
Good example is followed.
A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions,
and the roots spring up and make new trees.
The greatest work that kindness does to others
is that it makes them kind themselves.
Amelia Earhart

The Bad Seems So Much Smaller Now

poverty-is-1 filteredWhile the resolution of the image above is weak, the message it carries is strong. Many children not having enough to eat is a common reality. And it’s not only in some foreign country. Statistics say around 1 in 5 kids in the United States don’t get enough to eat each day. I hate to see adults suffer, but little children doing without food tears at all my emotions from sadness to anger. Have we accepted children going hungry as a fact of life? I can’t and I won’t!

Every day, children in every county in the United States wake up hungry. They go to school hungry. They turn out the lights at night hungry. In high school, Katherine Foronda trained herself not to feel hungry until after the school day had ended. She wasn’t watching her weight or worrying about boys seeing her eat. She just didn’t have any food to eat or any money to buy it. “I thought, if I wasn’t hungry during class I’d be able to actually focus on what we were learning,” said Foronda, now 19.

Early on in high school, with her hunger distracting her from her studies, she failed an English class. Rather than repeating the class, she was given the option of taking an afterschool life skills course, which offered meals to attendees each day and sent them home with food supplies each weekend. She also gained new insight into the possibilities for her own future, learning from a mentor that college was within her reach, despite her family’s economic circumstances.

With food to eat and not just a little bit of hope, she started performing better in classes, and founded a program that offered food support to the student body in her high school. She won a scholarship to the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, where she is now a sophomore. http://abcnews.go.com/US/hunger_at_home/hunger-home-american-children-malnourished/story?id=14367230

That’s one of the unfortunate beginnings that now appears to be headed toward a good life story. For many that is not the tale their life will write.

Growing up was not an easy time for my brother and me. Yet comparing our experience to what some go through, we were lucky. The poverty and mental, physical and emotional abuse we grew up in left its scars on us. However, we never lacked for clean clothes to wear, even if unfashionable and ill-fitting; a dry and safe place to sleep, no matter how humble it was; and enough food to eat, even if just basic and cheap sustenance. We were encouraged, even threatened sometimes, to do well in school. All in all the childhood my brother and I experienced made us far ‘richer’ than what many children are going through today.

This will sound a little strange to some, but I am grateful for my childhood. I am mature enough now to see the negative parts and not let them over-shadow the benefits I had. My start may have been rough by some standards, but the essentials for life were there that enabled me to grow into a functional adult who contributes positively to society. The bad seems so much smaller now and the good so much larger.

Hunger of choice is a painful luxury;
hunger of necessity is terrifying torture.
Mike Mullin

Modesty In Spirit

RITZ 32772e4e0d0e13d02ac85fca964d0864Plain and simple, I admire humility. A little thing that happened years ago while checking into a hotel jumps to mind. The lodging was one of those five-star types (Ritz Carlton) where my company meeting was being held and not the type I’d personally pay the price for. Being second in line I was just behind a couple in their late 70s or early 80s. Both were dressed nicely: her with well done hair wearing a simple, but lovely, well fitted dress; him in khaki pants, golf shirt and a navy blue blazer. Their luggage looked well used and was a common brand like American Tourister on Samsonite; not pricey designer bags.

As the old couple checked in I admired how sweet and kind they were to each other. Eye contact seemed to result each time into smiles. They were cordial to the counter staff and understanding when told their accommodations were not ready. They said they’d have drinks in the bar while they waited and asked if someone could let them know when their room was ready.

Two things added up in a flash: it was seeing the man reach to sign with his left hand revealing a watch I know cost tens of thousands soon after the desk clerk had said it was the “Presidential Suite” that was not ready. Then noticing the diamonds around the lady’s neck I easily concluded these were wealthy people, but not just any sort of the very well off. They were the rare “humble and happy” kind of rich folks who still loved life and most everyone in it.

It was the humbleness of the couple I admired then and still do today. When their ‘suite’ was not ready I didn’t hear “do you know who I am?” or “let me see the manager” or something of the sort. I am certain they could have “thrown their weight” and gotten plenty of attention had they desired to. Instead the older man and woman were understanding and like “nice normal folks” might be.

Humility has nothing to do with depreciating ourselves and our gifts in ways we know to be untrue. Even “humble” attitudes can be masks of pride. Humility is that freedom from our self which enables us to be in positions in which we have neither recognition nor importance, neither power nor visibility, and even experience deprivation, and yet have joy and delight. It is the freedom of knowing that we are not in the center of the universe, not even in the center of our own private universe. David F. Wells

The couple I encountered at the hotel check-in desk long ago defined the word “humble” just as I found its meaning in the dictionary: modesty in spirit, behavior and attitude; not arrogant or prideful; unpretentious. To me humility is one of the most endearing qualities a person can have. I am grateful for the example of the “humble rich couple” that today still lives vividly in my memory.

A great man is always willing to be little.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Snips and Snails and Puppy-Dog Tails

77f3My boyhood memories that are predominately good are those from before the age of seven. Then life was filled with awe, joy and wonder. The painful realities from the adult world had not touched my little brother and me yet.

Clearly I recall a yellowed newspaper clipping my Mother kept with other keepsakes in a little cedar box up high on her chest-of-drawers. Enough times to imprint it on my brain she got it out and read it when I was little (more than once due to my insistence). I mentally filed the memory away titled “What are little boys made of…” although poem talked about girls and others.

In years since, frequently I am come across bits and pieces of the poem and searched without luck for a full version. Purely by chance this morning I stumbled across what appears to be the poem in complete form. I became so happy and excited, I just had to share it here.

What are little babies made of, made of?
What are little babies made of?
Diapers and crumbs and sucking their thumbs;
That’s what little babies are made of?

What are little boys made of, made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails and puppy-dog tails;
That’s what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of, made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice and everything nice;
That’s what little girls are made of.

What are young men made of, made of?
What are young men made of?
Sighs and leers and crocodile tears;
That’s what young men are made of.

What are young women made of, made of?
What are young women made of?
Rings and jings and other fine things;
That’s what young women are made of.

What are our sailors made of, made of?
What are our sailors made of?
Pitch and tar, pig-tail and scar;
That’s what our sailors are made of.

What are our soldiers made of, made of?
What are our soldiers made of?
Pipe clay and drill, the foeman to kill;
That’s what our soldiers are made of.

What are our nurses made of, made of?
What are our nurses made of?
Bushes and thorns and old cow’s horns;
That’s what our nurses are made of.

What are our fathers made of, made of?
What are our fathers made of?
Pipes and smoke and collars choke;
That’s what our fathers are made of.

What are our mothers made of, made of?
What are our mothers made of?
Ribbons and laces and sweet pretty faces;
That’s what our mothers are made of.

What are old men made of, made of?
What are old men made of?
Slippers that flop and a bald-headed top;
That’s what old men are made of.

What are old women made of, made of?
What are old women made of?
Reels, and jeels, and old spinning wheels;
That’s what old women are made of.

What are all folks made of, made of?
What are all folks made of?
Fighting a spot and loving a lot,
That’s what all folks are made of.

Attributed to Robert Southey (1774-1843): Southey, English poet and historian.
In familiar folk tradition, the popular ditty inevitably acquired additional verses,
written by authors unknown, until it became a ballad of some length.
Composited by Gloria T. Delamar in “Mother Goose: From Nursery to Literature”

I am beaming with gratitude this morning for a “golden oldie” memory from my childhood freshly awakened.

Memories of childhood
were the dreams that stayed
with you after you woke.
Julian Barnes

The Well of the Spirit

well-w-bucketWhat if you had died in your sleep last night? Would you be wishing you’d done yesterday what you didn’t do? Words that you regret not saying? Gratitude left unexpressed? Love left unspoken?

While the scenario is humanly impossible, it’s just the sort of exercise I throw at myself once in a while to see how well I lived the previous day as compared to my intentions. There’s a line of thinking that goes “when you die there should be plenty left to do in your “in-box”. To follow through on this morning’s exercise, I have to put away most of the things on “my to-do list” choosing instead what I mean to get around to more but never seem to even get on that list.

I should…

…call my son more often and travel to see him more.

…touch base at least once per week with my dearest friends.

…remember to congratulate loved one’s birthdays/anniversaries & on the correct date.

…pay attention and observe the world more closely when I am walking or driving.

…listen closer to what others say getting less caught up in my thoughts as they speak.

…notice more things to be thankful for. There are many more than I acknowledge.

…slow down when I eat and enjoy my food instead of making it just a necessary task.

…notice the sunrise, the sunset and the sky in between.

…communicate more with my brother who is the only close blood relative I have.

…say I love you more to a broader group of people than I usually keep it to.

…daydream more and actually do the things I dream up and really want to do.

…be less afraid of my feelings and openly expressing them.

…be kinder, more forgiving and less hard on myself.

…be quicker with apologies and forgiveness.

…read more.

It’s interesting how fast that list came. I barely had time to type one before I was on to the next. Sometimes they came so fast I lost one or two before I could get them written. What that shows is the abundance of  “should-dos” I am missing out on; a gentle wake up call.

The inspiration to write this came from the infinite source beyond me that I readily acknowledge. When I am truly ready to receive, inspiration always shows up. Often it does not come in the form I was hoping for, but rarely is it anything but what I needed. I am grateful for the well of the spirit from where understanding and insight flow to me.

Life is not lost by dying;
life is lost minute by minute,
day by dragging day,
in all the thousand
small uncaring ways.
Stephen Vincent Benét