Robin Williams: The Joy and the Sadness

It's been a long time since I've felt irresistibly compelled to blog about something that's happened in the "real" world. My posting has slowed down considerably since my husband retired, and much of what I share is poetry at this point.

Having said that, today I hope to create some prose that somehow expresses my feelings about the death of Robin Williams. Experiencing such a visceral reaction to the passing of someone I don't even know surprises me, and I want to understand more about why I feel so personally bereaved. Clearly, I am not alone, because everywhere I look––both online and off––people are remembering him, talking about him, mourning him. I am mourning, too.

There was a joy about him, wasn't there? An irrepressibility of spirit that is rarely seen. It showed up in his comedy and in his acting, and it was carried in his eyes...kind eyes...eyes that twinkled both his joy and his suffering, often at the same time. In every close-up, you could see his humanity, his realness, his compassion...and he felt like your uncle, your father, your very close friend. There was a sweetness in his smile, one that transcended acting...or maybe I should say eclipsed it...because you could not look past the sense that he was every bit as kind and loving as he appeared. His unshuttered eyes were one of the remarkable things about him, I believe.

Of course he was funny, beyond funny, perhaps the funniest man we've ever seen; and he could act his pants off. (I smile, knowing Mr. Williams would have been off and running with that idiom.) Good Will Hunting and Dead Poets' Society and Good Morning Vietnam speak for themselves, and I believe Mrs. Doubtfire probably speaks for all of us who hope to find love and belonging in the world, with a few laughs along the way.

And so we are sad for ourselves, because we lost a bright light...a lively and creative mind...a genius of so much more than comedy. And we are sad for his family, who loved him as only those whose lives are personally touched by someone's energy can...up close and personal...so personal that his daughter Zelda's quote from Antoine de St.-Exupery's The Little Prince brought tears to my eyes in the reading, as did his birthday tweet to her last month (same link). But there is something more that saddens me, something that touches all of our lives as personally as Robin Williams touched the lives of his family.

Robin Williams was bipolar, which means he not only swung happy, but he swung sad...a sadness every bit as devastating as the humor that he so freely shared with us was elevating. Articles are saying that he "struggled" with depression, but that verb doesn't quite work for me. If my observations (formed by knowing and loving more than one person who is bipolar) mean anything, this remarkable man didn't struggle with depression. He was tormented by it, anguished by it, devastated by it. It terrified him in its unpredictability, in its inability to be reliably affected for the long term by treatment of any kind. Every remission was fickle, every relapse a desperate search for something new that might work, now that what was old had ceased to be effective. Most of the time, he didn't let that stop him. Monday, on one very bad morning, he did.

We are all the losers. The man was beloved, but I am troubled at statements made by strangers who would label him "selfish" for having the audacity to leave them and us bereft, people who clearly have never suffered as Mr. Williams did. Don't get me wrong, I am not a proponent of suicide...and I hope I never have to find out how it feels to love someone who seeks respite in that particular escape. But we can't judge another's pain unless we have walked a mile...no, 63 years...in his shoes, nor can we judge that person's inability to withstand the lure of permanent release in one weary, weakened moment when even his valiant spirit failed him.

Here's the thing. Robin Williams, judging from a career observed by many, was what we like to call in my family "a very hard tryer." He pushed himself to excel and achieve again and again, despite being afflicted (through no fault of his own) with the worst sort of burden to bear. I would guess that Sysyphus himself had nothing on Mr. Williams as he stressed and strained to push that boulder of depression up the hill, only to see it roll back down...over and over and over. Every time that stone hit bottom, I can only believe the heart of Robin Williams did, too...and as time passed, that bottom probably started feeling lower, that rock heavier. One of the most harrowing features of depression is its relentlessness...the inexorable nature of it...the entirely based-in-reality fear of never truly escaping it.

Selfishly, I wish Robin Williams had not escaped it. But I take exception to anyone calling him "selfish" for being temporarily overwhelmed by it. Another day, he might have found the strength to start pushing that boulder uphill yet again. Monday, he didn't. But that was one day out of a lifetime. And his courage was and is undeniable.

A final thing, if you'll bear with me. One actress tweeted, "If only Robin had known how many people loved him," her well-meaning inference being that, had he known of this love, he would not have ended his life. My thoughts run a different direction. I believe it is because Mr. Williams knew exactly how many people loved him that he found a way to live with his depression for 63 years. And for that, I thank him.

{I also thank untold others who are doing the same.}

The Fix Is In(side)

The Fix is In(side)

©2014 Susan Noyes Anderson

My life is hard; she likes to say.

In fact, she says it every day.

Reliably and without fail,

Poor me has been her holy grail.

She's taken knocks, and that's the truth.

It's gone that way right from her youth.

The girl can't seem to catch a break.

Most days are more than she can take.

Maybe, she says, her luck will change.

She's always thought it's kinda strange

how helpers come and helpers go.

Nobody sticks around, ya know?

They don't show up for me, she cries.

And no one's gonna say she lies.

But how can anybody help

when she's a no-show for herself?

∞§∞

Of course, nobody makes it through hard times alone. We all look for cheerleaders in life––and who doesn't need good people to pass the ball to when we're about to take a dive? With trouble chasing us down, a quick hand-off can keep us a step ahead. But we still have to suit up every day, to get our own hands dirty.

Lasting change comes from within, where the power is...our power. And the precursor to finding life fulfilling? Being willing. 

for more F posts, click below

Victory: Mission Accomplished!

Well, it's a happy day! I promised myself I would accomplish my goals this year, and I've managed to finish this one before April is even over. Yep, my brand new poetry website is finally up and running…and I have to admit that I am thrilled with the result. I feel like we kept every element of the old site that I loved while managing to update the mechanics, optimize the appearance, and improve navigation. What's more, it's going to be a lot better for the kind of organic SEO every good website needs. And hey, it looks sharp, right?

I'm still working on my weight loss goal, but I have made some serious strides on that, too…though the spiritual goals may have taken a bit of a back seat to this whole poetry site thing. Having said that, I am currently refocusing my energies in that direction…

And I plan to be posting here more regularly again, so I hope you will be kind enough to welcome me back into the neighborhood. (Because I really like living here.)

=)

PS. Sure would love to hear what you think about the new site, especially the looks and navigation. Is there anything confusing? Thanks!

for more V posts, click here

Uncharted Territory

Uncharted Territory

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

Our path was charted back when we were young:

Work hard. Raise up a family. Make a home.

Four children later, we lived on the run––

housebound but happy, not inclined to roam.

Adventure was the fuel that ran our days.

We did not lack for anything we needed.

Our young regaled us in a thousand ways.

(Blithe getaways were easily conceded.)

The challenges were vast, the blessings grand.

Years swept through like a river, smoothing stone,

depositing rare treasures in the sand,

bright bits of pain and pleasure ours to own.

We gathered these together, held them near,

looked up at the great tree our love had made,

and knew that it was good. Our way was clear.

The time had come to step beyond its shade.

Before us rolled the map of sights unseen,

of trips untaken, mountains yet unscaled.

The world was ours to wander, every dream

within the reach of plane or train or sail.

But living is capricious at its best.

The best-laid plans will often go amiss.

This woman’s health has failed the travel test.

This man would see the world and find his bliss.

Cross-purposes. Our needs pull us apart,

terrain that must be charted with the heart.

New territory hedges up our way,

but we will navigate it, come what may.

∞§∞

“He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands; and strange visions of mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams.” – J.R.R. Tolkien

My husband has worked hard all of his life, putting our needs before his own. Recently retired, his half-fulfilled dream is to hike all of our national parks and do some of the same abroad. He and I are both nature-lovers. Sadly, strenuous outdoor trips are no longer compatible with my health. This is a source of great sorrow for both of us, especially my husband, who would love to share these things with me and is disappointed on those occasions when I can’t accompany him. (Count me in, though, when the lodge has a good view!)

Anyway, my feelings of sadness at letting him down prompted this poem, which began as a sort of bittersweet lament but ended with a reminder to myself that we have seen and conquered worse problems than this one. And while journeying through the national parks in tandem may be beyond our reach, journeying through life together is something we do rather well.

Go and explore. Wherever you are,

I’ll find you underneath a star.

When you return, I’ll love you more,

wrapped up in all your mountain lore.

For more mags, click below

From Rehab to Recovery

Mom and Dick in the rehab center the day I left for home. Lookin' good!

Life's challenges come and go, and they've been coming a little more than going around here lately. Most of you know that August and September have been rough months for my mother (two strokes and a broken hip in the space of six weeks), and Dave and I have been back and forth to her home in Palm Desert enough times to feel like human yo-yos...or far-flung boomerangs. Suffice to say that our car is beginning to know the full splendor (?) of I-5 in the summer, 100+ degree heat and all. And I am beginning to know that my mom is one heck of a fighter.

Good news is that she will be getting out of rehab on Friday and going home, which is literally and figuratively just what the doctor ordered. The ball of her broken hip was replaced a week ago Saturday, and at 86 years of age she has recovered more rapidly than we ever dared hope or expect. Of course, Mom still has some hard work ahead of her, but she is able to get around rather well with a walker already and will continue to receive physical therapy at home three times a week for an undetermined period of time. Best of all, her wonderful husband is TLC personified, and I have a feeling she is in for a heavy dose!

If bad things come in threes (and while I am not a bit superstitious, in this case I sincerely hope they do), then Mom should be free to stay at home and enjoy life without further ado. I think she's earned King's ex for a looong while, don't you?

Having satisfied the "R" requirement with Rehab and Recovery, I think a "Q" portion of this post might be in order, since I missed that round of Alphabe-Thursday altogether last week:

What I have learned from my mother throughout these three consecutive ordeals is to "Quench not the Spirit" (1 Thessalonians 5:19). Paul was speaking of the Holy Spirit, but I am also thinking of the human spirit that my mom exhibits so abundantly, refusing to be beaten down by whatever life has to offer. She knows in Whom she has trusted, and she puts her faith in His plan for her, no matter what it entails.

I only hope I can learn from her example.

Love you, Mom.

=)

for more R and Q posts, click below

Overcoming

 

 

Overcoming. A couple of weeks ago, my letter M post was about my marvelous mom, who was recovering from a stroke and doing it rather well. We were all buoyed and uplifted by her grace and determination as she fought her way back from not being able to speak and remembering only her name to fully regaining all of the function she had lost. I don't think I have to tell you that we were feeling blessed by her spirit and tenacity.

Last Saturday, two weeks to the day after her first ischemic stroke, Mom had a second one. Needless to say, it was frightening for my stepfather to hear her go from talking on the phone one moment to not being able to say much at all the next. She was reluctant to go to the hospital (yes, she is a stubborn one), so he called the paramedics, who immediately rushed her to the nearest medical center. Once again, she was hit directly in her speech center; and this time, her left side was slightly affected as well. The recovery in the hospital was more up and down than previously, and a positive outcome seemed less predictable. We worried; we prayed; we worried; we prayed. We bargained with the Lord; we surrendered ourselves to His will. We bargained, surrendered, bargained, surrendered. When push came to shove, we realized that the outcome rests in His hands, that He has a plan for Mom, and that we need to trust in that plan.

I arrived in town yesterday (my sister Nikki was here for the first few days), and Mom came home from the hospital hours before I arrived. Happily, her mental faculties and acuity have bounced back once again, but physically she has some healing to do. Walking is difficult, not only because of her stroke but because she is suffering from an attack of gout. Clearly, she will need some physical therapy to strengthen her legs and restore her mobility, but we are all putting our money on her. It would be crazy not to, as she is the epitome of my N post last week: Never, Never, Never Give Up! And boy, are we glad.

A happy note is that a sort of impromptu family reunion has sprung up all of a sudden, with my siblings and my children driving or flying into town this weekend to offer their love and support in person. While Mom was aware that Dave and I were coming, we have decided to surprise her with the rest. Nothing makes her heart happier than to see her kids and grandkids walk through the door, and lifting her spirits in that way is bound to help her heal. Of course, we will be careful not to tire her out and will pay close attention to balancing her competing needs for companionship and alone time.

Thanks for so many emails sent, good wishes offered, and prayers extended. Every one is much appreciated by Mom, our family, and me. All is well; the Lord is in charge, and we are grateful.

=)

 

for more O posts, click below

 

My Marvelous Mom

Many of my regular readers know and love my mom and have asked for a report on her recent stroke. I would like to thank each one of them in her behalf for the care and concern they communicated to us by email and Facebook. We definitely felt those prayers!

On Saturday, August 3rd, our family went through quite a scare with my 86-year-old mother. She'd had a TIA recently (in addition to a couple of others in the past), so she and my stepfather initially assumed the "real deal" was simply another one of the fleeting episodes she'd experienced before. The incident began with garbled speech and difficulty reading the puzzle she was doing. By the time it ended, she was unable to speak or read at all. Her memory was affected, too, and the only answer she could come up with to the competency questions was her name.

Happily, Sunday the 4th was a remarkable day of healing for Mom. As the hours passed, she went from recalling only her name and speaking in monosyllabic sentences to communicating and remembering pretty well. In fact, by the time I arrived that evening, she was able to carry on a full conversation, though it was clear she was having to reach for some of the words. Mom felt a bit groggy, but her diction was perfect; and her memory was nearly 100%.

On Monday the 5th, our favorite patient continued to improve by leaps and bounds. Last Tuesday, we were delighted and grateful to leave the hospital and take her home. When they drove me to the airport Saturday, she was doing as well as ever...a truly amazing recovery, made even sweeter by the fact that August 12th marked their 41st wedding anniversary. Mom and the most thankful and relieved husband in the history of husbands celebrated with some of their best friends, who were as thrilled as we all were to see them hand-in-hand for the big day.

One of the most touching parts of being with Mom and Dick last week was observing their love for one another in action. He is such a tender caretaker, and each night they take turns leading a family prayer. Without fail, the two of them express gratitude to the Lord for their years together and ask for as much time here as He is willing to give them.

I hope He gives them many more years, and I am more grateful than words can tell that my mom is still with us...in every sense of the word.

Do you know how cherished you are, Mom? Not just by us, your children; not just by your husband, but by so many friends who reached out to you. Everyone was calling, bringing in a meal, or just wanting to visit. I guess it's true that what goes around comes around, and you deserve every bit of it.

Sure do love you!

{love being your daughter, too}

♥♥♥

for more M posts, click below

Get It Right and Sleep Tight!

How well do YOU sleep at night? If your answer is "not as well as I'd like," and your weariness has nothing to do with the parenting of nocturnal children, then read on––because your friend Sue is about to hand out one heck of a good tip!

You see, I have stumbled across a sleep solution that is kicking the behind of some menopause-related insomnia that's been plaguing me for more years than I care to mention. Not one to take Ambien, valerian, or even melatonin (I know, I'm a bit conservative in this area), I have finally settled on something that I AM comfortable using––essential oils.

The brand I like is DoTerra: specifically, the lavender essential oil and the Serenity essential oil blend. I simply rub two drops of each on my tootsies (yep, that's right...my feet) at night, et voila! I am off to greet the Sandman, who is keeping company with me at least an hour longer than he used to...and sometimes, two hours! I have gone from being a 5:00 am riser to a 6 or even 7:00 am riser. Instead of a meager five hours per night, I sometimes get six or seven! What could be better?? (Well, maybe being able to eat whatever I wanted to without gaining weight...) *sigh* I wonder if they have an essential oil for that?!

All kidding aside, while I'm not sure exactly how these oils work, I am convinced they do. And not just for sleep, either. The other day I had an infected bug bite that would normally have taken two weeks to stop itching. Instead, I looked up the complaint in my trusty essential oils book; was advised to layer lemon, lemongrass, and lavender on the site; and could barely even see the bump two days later. Miracle cure, if you ask me. I've also staved off a couple of colds sucking on DoTerra's On Guard throat drops, which consist of nothing more than orange, clove, cinnamon bark, eucalyptus, and rosemary. Best of all, I am now rubbing frankincense on the back of my neck every night to benefit my aging brain, among other things. (This a pretty versatile oil, and who wouldn't want to use a gift of the magi to improve her health, right?) You'll be pleased to know that myrrh is available, too, which was used in ancient days to combat leprosy and is still known for combatting skin ulcers, stretch marks, and weeping wounds.

Having been disappointed by many a doctor in my life, including but not limited to unnecessary surgeries and toxic-to-me medications, I like the idea of using something natural to gently move my body in the direction of healing. Essential oils are filling that bill for me, and I am a big fan!

=)

Til Death Do Us Part

Well, I just waved good-bye to a carload of our kids and grandkids, and I'm missing them already. Thank heavens for a bit of Saturday Centus distraction to ease the separation. (As always, the prompt is in red below, along with the 100 words Ms. Jenny allows us to add.)

My response comes from a tragic

 news story that headlined AOL today. 

∞§∞ 

Til Death Do Us Part

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

We met in Lompoc County, when a back road was the only way to get there. She was fifteen, bright as sunshine, walking straight toward me in that red dress with a crown of curls to match. Never thought she'd talk to a bumpkin like me, and I was right. Took three weeks of persuading before she'd ride out in my old pick-up; even then she wouldn't say much. Later I found out she was shy.

Couldn't believe my luck when she said yes. Never knew a sweeter bride, and she stayed that way. My Ginger did everything for me until the MS took over; then I did everything for her. I wanted to. Even this last thing.

Neither of us made any speeches. Our fingers entwined like ribbons of light, we said good-bye. 

Her eyes were smiling when I pulled the trigger.

∞§∞

Pretty heart wrenching, any way you look at it.
The true story can be read here.

Litho-trips(y)

Just got back from our vacation, and I'm doing double duty with my Saturday Centus today. Because I missed AlphabeThursday, I will be combining the two for your reading pleasure. The prompt, as always, is in red below.

∞§∞

Litho-trips(y)

©2013 Susan Noyes Anderson

Trials trouble all who travel.

Obstacles get in the way.

Large as mountains, small as gravel,

struggles clog up every day.

Let the river flow, then follow

where its fearless waters lead.

Keep your channels clear and hollow,

open to your every need.

Walking down life's pebbled highways,

blast those boulders or get burned.

Rock the rocks that block your byways.

Leave no kidney stone unturned.

 ∞§∞

click below for more L posts

Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite!

When I was a young girl, my mother always used to send me off to sleep at night with the phrase, "Good night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite!" Of course, when I asked her for further details, she explained to me that there were no bed bugs anymore, but that they had once been quite a problem for people. I was glad to hear these pests were a thing of the past, and my only brush with them was as cute cartoon characters with big eyes and shoes.

Sadly, times have changed, and bed bugs are becoming very much a part of the present. It's time for all of us to be aware that these little buggers can hitchhike into our homes in luggage, furniture, bedding, and clothing...and while anyone who travels is at particular risk, no one is immune. A common place to pick them up is in a hotel room (and they are as plentiful in posh hotels as less posh), but the cargo areas in an airplane can expose you, too. Visitors to your home may bring them along with their suitcases or belongings, and clothing ordered online or purchased in a store might be infested as well. (Many people are putting their new clothing in the dryer on high for 30 minutes right away to kill any insects that may be lurking there.) Used furniture can be a problem, too. Bed bugs have also been found in movie theaters, retail stores, office buildings, restaurants, etc.

It's a major issue all over the country, and these pesky little varmints are extremely difficult to eradicate (as in nigh on to impossible). Apparently it is now against the law to use the insecticides that once wiped them out, with frequent and global travel being another factor. At any rate, those who manage to rid themselves of the critters do so at great expense and hours upon hours of cleaning and heating and alcohol wiping of their belongings. Even then, a stray or two can escape and start the whole nightmare all over again. Of course, this is even worse in an apartment building or dorm, where the spread goes easily from unit to unit.

With that in mind, it seems to me that prevention is the way to go. Because my hubby and I will be traveling a lot more now that he's retired, I just purchased a packtite, which is essentially an enclosed heater that kills bedbugs. After each trip, I am placing my luggage in it to make sure I don't bring any little friends into my living space. It wouldn't hurt to have kids who are home from school or travels do the same before bringing their belongings into your house. And why not packtite new clothes, too? It's easy enough to do. It's also easy to check out every hotel room prior to unloading your stuff there––looking behind the bed board, under the mattress, and in the nightstands. If you see any signs of infestation, simply refuse the room and go elsewhere. Better a few minutes of easy prevention than months of eradication effort with no sure success.

Anyway, just wanted to share what I've learned with all of you! Better safe than sorry comes to mind, as does forewarned is forearmed. To say nothing of an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. And maybe even the early bird catches the worm (or bed bug, as the case may be). Enough axioms for you?? Okay. Done!

;)

The Magic of Coconut Oil

A couple of years ago, I wrote about the joys and benefits of cooking with coconut oil. Today I want to take my enthusiasm for coconut oil a step further and confess that this wonderful substance has also become my favorite face and body lotion. It moisturizes and conditions like a charm, leaving my skin a little less like crepe paper every day. Sure, it's a bit like getting oiled up for the spit at first (greased pig, anyone?), but ere long the slippery residue absorbs and you are sitting pretty. Honestly, I am loving the difference––and I love the price, too (relatively inexpensive, and it goes a long way).

Yesterday, I even used the stuff as a hair treatment. Yep, I just rubbed it through my hair until it hung in oily snakes glistened around my face, then popped on a shower cap and let it marinate for a couple of hours. What I like about this hair salad is that it actually takes away the dryness while leaving your locks with some body. In fact, it adds to the body...and I kinda need that, these days.

So there you are, friends. My very best beauty secret is yours to keep. Can't promise you that it will work miracles, but it does work like a charm!

;)

PS. This is also a great massage oil, with antibiotic and anti-fungal properties. And as I've said before, the extra virgin, cold-pressed, organic brand (Nutiva) is even great to cook with because coconut oil includes high amounts of lauric acid, which is good for cholesterol and aids in weight loss. Some people even swear by it to prevent tooth decay. (The Mia Flora brand is not for ingestion, though.)

Must They Die in Vain?

Life is precious, and I can't let my thoughts about the sad demise of Whitney Houston go by unmentioned. There are no definitive reports as to her cause of death, but I think the assumption that drugs were involved, whether directly or indirectly, would not be amiss. At the very least, years of substance abuse likely damaged her health to the point where she was susceptible to losing her life so early.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, using drugs or alcohol to alter my perception of reality goes against my beliefs. In fact, drinking and drugging are out of the question for observant Mormons, which protects many of us and our children from the ravages of that particular addiction. However, it does not protect all, because the freedom of choice which is our birthright still allows every individual to make his or her own personal decision.

In the interest of respecting and protecting privacy, I will not mention names or details in sharing with you that my family has been touched by the destructive forces of drug/alcohol addiction. I have seen the consequences with my own eyes, and the definition of devastating is to watch mood-altering substances take over a person's body and soul, changing a loving, honorable person into a mere shadow of his or her former self. This unspeakable horror, the epitome of evil in this world, is a tragedy for everyone concerned, and I hate it beyond my power to express.

In June of 1971, Richard Nixon officially declared a "war on drugs," citing drug abuse as "public enemy number one." I think he identified the aggressor correctly, but it's plain to see that a war on drugs conducted by the government has not been able to get the job done. What is essentially a moral battle cannot be fought with laws only. Rather, individuals and families must wage this war...and it must be fought in the hearts and in the minds of every man and woman, every parent and child. Vulnerability to drugs begins in the spirit, and the best defense is having a healthy one.

Love and example are powerful teachers, and while they cannot alter personal choice, they can certainly influence it. A strong family (where freedom is encouraged within the limits of reasonable and firmly enforced parental boundaries) is a bonus...as is allowing a child to assume the natural and/or justly applied consequences of behavior whenever possible. Refusing to "fix" everything that goes wrong in a young person's life creates numerous opportunities for him to realize that certain behavior brings certain results. It also allows ample room to develop much-needed coping skills and engenders the self esteem that comes from acting upon the world independently. In addition, children should be taught to understand, accept, and express their feelings, while being encouraged to channel them in non-destructive ways. All of these things, offered in an atmosphere of love and personal responsibility, increase resilience and even forge some armor.

I also believe it is essential to gift our children with a strong spiritual foundation and practice, whatever form that might take. Of course, there is no guarantee that this will keep them off the path of substance abuse, but it does place an anchor in the soul that can help a person find his way back from the abyss that is addiction, just as his family can provide the necessary tether.

In more general terms, we can all fight the moral war on drugs by speaking up, reaching out, and chipping in. Our society is sick, and we really do have to be the change we wish to see in the world. We can use our voices by avoiding media that glorifies drug use, refusing to laugh at jokes that minimize that behavior, talking turkey with other parents who seem to view experimentation as just another phase of adolescence, and forming alliances with those who agree that drugs are a scourge on our society. What's more, if we really want to see our culture's attitude toward substance abuse change, we need to walk the walk by using moderation ourselves. I'm not saying everyone has to become a teetotaler, not even close, but I can't count the times I have attended parties in the workplace where grown, professional men and women have behaved like frat kids, drinking their way to stumbling steps, slurred speech, and sick stomachs. What can possibly be the point of placing oneself beyond having fun...especially when you can't even remember anything the next day...or if you do remember, you're not proud of the memory?

The thing is, it matters. What we do matters. A society is defined by the way people behave...and yesterday's taboo can easily become today's tradition. Has the use of substances become a tradition in our country? Yes. Has the abuse of substances become a tradition? I fear that it has, and I fear the results as well. Families are destroyed, people forfeit their lives, and our nation is weakened. We are losing too much and too many...with too little resistance.

So, my friends. Here comes the thought question. Are we fighting the good fight...doing everything we can to make a difference? Or are we being complacent...onlookers only? Or worse, enablers?

One thing is certain. To do nothing at all is a choice in itself.

From Suffering to Selfless

"Sometimes, when things aren't going right, we think we need to get away from a place or a person. Sometimes that helps, but most of the time what we need is to get away from our old self and our selfish feelings. We can leave a place behind, or we can stay in that place and leave our selfishness (often expressed in feeling sorry for ourselves) behind. If we leave a place and take our selfishness with us, the cycle of problems starts all over again, no matter where we go. But if we leave our selfishness behind, no matter who we are, things start to improve" (John H. Groberg).

At first glance, this quote doesn't seem to apply to me. I rarely get the yen to go someplace else for more than a vacation, and I love the people in my life far too much to want to escape them, but maybe I'm being too literal. What struck me as I read these words from John A. Groberg's magnificent book, In the Eye of the Storm, was his take on selfishness as frequently being expressed in the form of feeling sorry for ourselves. This characterization resonated with me, and I wanted to spend a moment today figuring out what it means in my life.

Blessed as I am (and I know that I am), there are a number of chronic health problems I deal with on a daily basis. I've generally experienced self pity as a destructive, sort of self-limiting exercise, one that rarely makes me feel better and has a tendency to bring me down every time I indulge in it. For this reason, I do my best not to indulge in it (sometimes more successfully than others), but my reasons for that effort have been practical more than spiritual. In fact, my reasons have been somewhat selfish in origin. It just doesn't make me feel good. Feeling sorry for myself puts me in victim mode, and I feel a lot happier when I can avoid that mentality. I'd like to avoid it more often.

Elder Groberg's words (above) made me realize that I've been coming at my health problems from the wrong angle. My approach has been reactive, struggling not to wallow because it feels bad. Instead, I could take a proactive stance, striving for selflessness (and the spiritual gifts, healing, and lack of wallowing that must always accompany any Christ-centered trait). Let's face it; striving trumps struggling every time. It just feels better. Which is why I think I will do better with a mindset of actively pursuing selflessness as the cure for what ails me rather than reactively flailing against the quagmire of sinking feelings that all too often accompanies chronic health problems. Reframing is a good thing!

A spiritual perspective is always better than a worldly one, and when I feel myself wanting to run away from a place (the one my health problems puts me in) or a person (myself, reacting to those health problems), I am going to take Elder Groberg's advice and leave my selfishness behind.

{point of view is everything}

=)

There Oughta Be a Law

It's Saturday Centus again, and since the hubby and I will soon head over to visit our grandkids, I'll be sticking with the tried 'n true poetry post today. That rascally Ms. Matlock is up to no good this morning, doing her darnedest to gross us out with pictures of potatoes so soon after Thanksgiving, but it won't work on me! I happen to have unusually good stamina for potato overload. More's the pity.

The prompt, as always, is in red.

∞§∞

There Oughta Be a Law

©2011 Susan Noyes Anderson

How could they do it to me? Geez!

There oughta be a law.

The way these hucksters bleed you dry

is stuck up in my craw.

It's all about their bottom line.

Their customer? Who cares?

The only thing they fret about

is selling all their wares.

It really is a pity to

be caught up in such greed.

Accountability is key.

Payback is what they need.

Arrest these peddlers of plaque,

these fiends who trade in fat.

Jail all who query, "Super-size?...

Would you like fries with that?"

∞§∞

Up and At 'Em

Next year I'll be sixty years old, and while I have no objection to the number per se, what I do object to are those mornings when I feel every bit of that age and more. I long to wake up and jump out of bed like I used to do, ache-free and ready to make the new day my own. Instead, I wake up, carefully maneuver myself to the edge of the mattress, use my right arm to push myself to a sitting position, and slowly raise the old creakers into an upright stance. Et voila! Bed exited. Mission accomplished.

Some days my aging chassis bothers me more than others, and this happens to be one of them. Happily, most mornings I simply take it as a matter of course, scarcely noticing the changes or at least having a sense of humor about them. Either way, once I get up and moving, the whole situation tends to improve dramatically. By nightfall, I am almost spry.

There's a lesson to be learned here, and I am determined to learn it. (What good is getting older if you can't get wiser, right?) And what good is allowing those circumstances in life that are beyond our control to call the shots when it comes to our happiness? At the end of the day, the outcome will be as good as any given person decides to make it...by putting one foot in front of the other and remembering what Abe Lincoln said, that "most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be."

A number of people might find such an attitude a bit cavalier or insensitive, too simplistic in its disregard for the very real sorrows and struggles people experience, but I don't think so. Mr. Lincoln suffered from severe depression himself, but he knew Seneca was right in saying that "a man is as miserable as he thinks he is." As Holbrook Jackson observed, "happiness is a form of courage," and pointing out the opportunity for choice does not invalidate a person's struggle, but ennobles and empowers it.

Perhaps Werner Erhard and Mary Engelbreit got it right: "Happiness is a function of accepting what is" (Ehrhard) and "changing the way you think about it" (Engelbreit), but I think the apostle Paul said it best of all: "I have learned, in whatsoever state I am in, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me" (Philippians 4:12-13).

Enough said. I've talked myself around. Up and at 'em, Sue. And make it a good one!

=)

Blog Break (BRB)

I'm taking an entirely unplanned and unwanted blogging break until Monday to give my back a chance to heal. (It isn't too happy when I use the computer.)

Needless to say, I will miss you all. Of course, I intend to do my best to catch up on your goings-on once I return to the keyboard.

Have a great week!!

=)

Stalking Good Health

Well, my friends, I have officially joined the green smoothie club. Yep, for a full week now I have been indulging both morning and night in a concoction so filled with healthy veggies that the entire kitchen smells (as my husband is fond of informing me) like weeds! What's more, I am loving it!!

In the past few months, several of my friends have introduced the so-called green smoothie into their lives. All have reported good results, varying from increased energy to decreased blood sugar/blood pressure and weight loss. Reducing blood sugar and pressure is the main goal for me, but hey...I'll be more than happy to deal with any other benefits that come my way.

I did have to make a fairly substantial investment in a Vita Mix from Costco, but I LOVE that thing. It's liquifying (vaporizing?!) action is so powerful you can go from nuts to butter in seconds. So far, the nut-grinding fancy hasn't hit me, but who knows what the future might hold? For now, I am happy to make my (actually kinda brownish) green smoothies, and here is what I do:

The Vita Mix has a much larger blending container than most, so you can make a quart of liquid in one shot.

pour in 2 cups of water or coconut water

mix in enough greens to create 3 additional cups of liquid (this is a LOT of greens)

add a banana, an apple, and two cups of berries

So far, I have used baby spinach, kale, herbal salad mix, celery, chard, and parsley...but there are many more to choose from. There's even an iPhone app telling you which particular green, leafy vegetable is good for which ailment! (By the way, you are supposed to alternate the leafy greens so that alkaloids don't build up in your system.)

Anyway, I'm enjoying the experience and am quite hopeful that I will receive at least a few health benefits. Some of the flavors are stronger and stranger than others, but all of them are drinkable and refreshing. What's more, I feel like I'm doing something good for my body. Already I've noticed that I am not retaining as much water. My rings are looser, and my eyes are considerably less puffy in the morning. Also, my digestive system is working like a charm!

;)

PS. I'll keep you posted on the blood pressure, blood sugar, and other benefits as time goes on.

Brain Drain

I'm willing to bet that my brain used to be larger than the inch or so pictured here, but I have clear evidence that it is indeed shrinking. (Or maybe the correct word would be shriveling.) Either way, you can be sure that I find the whole experience shattering, shocking, and shameful...including but not limited to the shortcomings that accompany it. (As you can see, the ability to alliterate is not among those shortcomings.)

not yet, anyway

Sadly, the ability to choose the word I want, when I want it, definitely IS among them. And then some. I never imagined that my once fertile mind would be dependent upon a thesaurus to find the word I was looking for, but these days I find myself tethered to that tome constantly. Where are those easily produced words of yesteryear, tripping from my tongue, pen, and keyboard like streams of sparkling water, flowing freely? Oh, how the mighty have fallen! These days I can't come up with le mot juste to save my life. Not that I don't know what it is...oh, I know all too well exactly what it is. The problem is that I can't come up with it...And no other word will do.

*sigh*

It's...

(Cue frenzied, impatient search through thesaurus here.)

Ahhh, yes. Discombobulating. To say nothing of flummoxing, befuddling, and downright flabbergasting.

Gingko biloba, anyone?

;)

I'm hitting the beach next week (poor hubby has to stay home), so please bear with me if I'm a bit irregular about my posting!

For my Friend

Our very dear friend is in surgery this morning, having recently been diagnosed with cancer for the third time. My mind can't seem to go anywhere else today, and that's as it should be.

I keep looking at this picture, which feels like an answer to prayer.

(It's exactly what I wish I could give him.)

It's exactly what the Lord has already given him.

Not just the tree of life, but the Living Water to nourish it.

"...the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water

springing up into everlasting life."

John 4:14

"And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,

shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:7

Drink deeply, my friend.

I know you do...and will.