Ebb and Flow

I like organizing my thoughts into little folders, a sort of mental filing cabinet. Rational versus irrational. Thoughts that are constructive versus ok to toss away. I value order and strive to make sense out of feelings and happenings. Sometimes these habits drive me to feel vulnerable about finding answers. A clear cut mandate to dictate what choices to make, what path to choose and what makes me tick. I am, as of this point in time, unable to find any concrete response to this line of questioning. I don't align my entire being with any one thing. I live for moments instead.

Rain. Preferable warm rain, and some sunshine. The gallop of an excited pet. The dog pummeling down the steps and through the kitchen, slipping and sliding into the door or cabinet. Reagan greeting me at the door. Sleeping near me when I don't feel well.

The smell of coffee brewing in the morning. Better yet, bacon frying. And biscuits. Or if you are from Northern New Jersey, some doughy bagels and Taylor ham.

Joyful accomplishment over a completed task, no matter how trivial. Freshly folded laundry. Long talks on the phone. Pajamas. Chocolate chip pancakes for dinner (while wearing those pajamas).

Fatigue after a long workout. Aching muscles that scream progress. Grocery shopping on Sunday mornings. Preparing a meal and sharing it with someone whose company you crave. Or eating alone with a good book as your companion.

Weekend naps. That pang of indulgence when you shut your eyes as the sun continues to shine through your window. Being understood. Listened to. Appreciated.

"We cannot be happy if we expect to live all the time at the highest peak of intensity.  Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony."  ~Thomas Merton, 1955

The only thing I can imagine doing all day every day, is navigating the ebbs and flows. A step forward, and a step backward. Learning. Communicating. Overcoming. I don't know what I am doing or where I am going. But I will embrace it and endeavor every step of the way to make sense of this life. To make it meaningful. Love others and cherish their love in return.

And eat cake. I will eat lots of cake.

Breathe it in

I caught myself looking in the mirror. I try not to make it a habit of peering too deeply or I end up noticing blemishes and other trivial things. While I studied my face, time felt like it was standing still. I was grateful for each blemish, my eyebrows, my nose. I realized that exact moment would never exist again.  Gone into thin air it will go. I will age, my hair will grow, and my face will change. If I am fortunate, I will develop laugh lines.

All too often I forget to take a step back and breathe it in. My mind too busy evaluating the bigger picture. Nonetheless, I remain cognizant that until I am unabashedly grateful for something, anything, there will never be enough. I want to strive and succeed, but I more desperately want to feel whole in the moment.

As an exercise in being present, I take a personal inventory.

Today I didn't solve world hunger. I didn't single handedly build a brand, save a life, or give a talk at a TED Conference. I wasn't able to run five miles. I'm not necessarily my ideal weight. There are still many unknowns. 

But I did smile at a stranger while walking down Bloomfield Avenue. She was nearing eighty or so and looked sullen until I acknowledged her. Then she flashed the toothiest grin I've ever seen. I saw a child's spirit in her eyes. 

I fixed my bed. There is abundant research in psychology supporting the notion that a fixed bed will enhance overall happiness. I even left the rest of the house somewhat clean when I departed this morning. If the house was a mess though, at least that bed was pristine, every pillow in its place.

There was a luscious latte at Raymond's. Its foam reminded me of a Disney movie. Finding hidden meanings in my food is a simple pleasure I enjoy twofold. 1. Meaning is uncovered. 2. Food and drink is had. 

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I learned something new at work. Actually four or five completely new things. It is both humbling and infuriating all at once to see how much is left to discover. Without even scratching the surface, I am tickled by the possibilities.

My Nana surprised me. I find it remarkable that you can know a person your entire life, and they still manage to do something you hadn't anticipated. Out of the blue she used sexy in a sentence, via text I might add. She texts, yes. She is just the coolest woman. Cooler then I'll likely ever be. 

My cousins and I hiked to an overlook in the Pocono Mountains. My fingers were numb and eyes teared, but my mind was clear. The air was crisp. James will argue Pennsylvania air is the cleanest air you will find. 

At that moment, there was truth to his hometown prejudice.

I called a friend, made chocolate chip cookies, and said my prayers.

...

A recurring theme in my thoughts is how we as people endeavor to find our place.  For me that "place" is yet to be identified, unless I've already found it. That is not so far fetched to consider. Wherever I am is the only place I have.  I might as well breathe it in and make it count. 

Spread the Word and Sundance

I was tabling in Red Square a few Marches back as a student at Georgetown. Red Square was a safe place for students to converge and share their heartfelt views via flyers, sidewalk chalk, and demonstrations. It was conveniently located in the almost-center of campus, trafficked by droves of undergraduate and graduate students day in and out. A ripe place to spread the word.

Alongside other Best Buddies  participants, I was tabling to spread the word to end the derogatory use of the word "retard", a word that has become all too common, used to implying someone or something is less or flawed in our society. Joining other advocates of the Spread the Word to End the Word movement nationwide, we had a petition to be signed by passer-bys.

"I pledge and support the elimination of the derogatory use of the r-word from everyday speech and promote the acceptance and inclusion of people with intellectual disabilities."

While we were received rather positively overall and gathered many signatures, there is one encounter in particular that stands out in my memory. A man started to question us about his First Amendment Constitutional right to freedom of speech. He was outraged by this entreaty to end hateful language. I was a little younger then and likely more docile from what I can recall, but with the arrival of the R-Word's annual day of awareness (March 5, 2014), I am moved to offer my take on the matter yet again. 

To the abrasive man from Red Square, I say...

We must not misconstrue a right for an obligation. We are indeed protected by the Constitution of the United States to speak as we wish, and to use whatever language we have the opportunity to use. After all, words are nothing but letters strung together in sequence. What is conveyed and implied by these words, however, affects other people. Rights are sacred, but need not be abused. 

I have the rights to behave combatively,  to spew hurtful speech, berate, and break down others if I want to. I have the ability to behave like an imbecile, to lie, steal, and cheat. A perversion of our Constitution can protect these behaviors as well.  More important than rights is an obligation to  be a decent human being. The right to do something in no way requires that behavior. 

So yes, the man in Red Square can use the r-word if he lacks an alternative to use in it's place, but I would challenge him to consider the impact of his speech. To reflect on how the world will receive his words and challenge the ostracism of talented and vibrant individuals worldwide. I fell fervently that eliminating the use of the r-word will diminish the divide cast between populations of varying abilities. We will celebrate our differences rather than condemn them.

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A takeaway. This video speaks to the courage of a spirited young boy with Down Syndrome. Fueled by his family's love, acceptance, and encouragement, Beau made it all the way to the Sundance Film Festival for his role in LITTLE ACCIDENTS . I don't know of many people who have achieved the same; I see nothing but abilities here. Do you? 

On Social Sharing

This is in no way an attempt to debase behavior patterns or imply anything is wrong or right. The social sphere is all very organic and well uncontrollable. Like a wild fire. I am sincerely intrigued, that's all. Maybe Valentine's day and the abundant sharing got me pondering. 

Someone posted on Facebook, "Looks like everyone has the best boyfriend on Valentines day". I thought it was cheeky and clever and would be interested to know his marital status and profession. Maybe a comedy writer because it would make good stand up. Others may find the comments offensive or even bitter. Thus is life and we don't have to agree; it's small stuff anyway. 

Have you ever felt unsettled about learning deeply private and personal news via social media about a person you don't communicate with in the "real world". Like you're a creepy fly on the wall but you've done nothing wrong in fact. Is this just the social norm for our generation and we better start posting to keep up?  Or maybe we should only follow/friend people we would realistically communicate with outside of social media? This isn't it either. I like following Martha Stewart. I could be thinking too deeply about it but I am actually curious and might conduct a case study. If you have some insight, post it on Twitter @pensivefoodie. 

Are you supposed to like something on Facebook that is deeply or even partly sad? Twitter is effective in sharing and "affirming" content without the connotation that is it "likable", which may not be the case. For instance the death of a loved one or an egregious wrong. 

This video had me crying in the Best Buy parking lot, while my boyfriend ran in to buy a keyboard. He returned to the car to me a blubbering mess, keyboard in hand and confused. He took my phone away.  This is not the first time. 

This concept applies to trivial rants too: Something like this girl hates her mother-in-law, husband is a dud, and her little one peed the bed, again.  How about a Like with insert condition button. Or better, a Hug button. Here is a use case for your reference.

1. Read Sad Content 
2. Experience cognitive dissonance: Is it disrespectful if I like this? Will the source get the wrong idea about my intention? 
3.  Reflect: This person needs a Hug or Support. 
4. Click Hug Button and/or Like with a lump in my throat and a very heavy heart.

Facebook, get on it or Twitter will continue to outpace you. 

Just an observation. I have yet to read a post from a Wounded Warrior or a child with a terminal illness like this, "I am having a really hard time making it day to day." Or from a young woman with an intellectual disability, "Hey, the world is sometimes less than accommodating and marginalizes me."  Are these posts out there? I am sure they are. But they are not as frequent, as "I hate traffic".  Is this a lesson? Yes, I think so. No one cares you hate traffic.

Thanks to my big, brave sister, and her insight from a position as an Oncology Counselor for this invaluable reminder. 

On a lighter note. Have you experienced this moment? "Sh*t a Tyho. Argh *typo. Too late, already shared. What will the world think?",  says the sneaky grammar gremlin in your ear. 

Another observation.  I am grateful for the variety of beliefs, lifestyles, and cultures social media connects. Like this, a post on Instagram a while back, by Erica Domesek, the craft goddess behind P.S-I Made This. I've even found it to share. It was great. The woman has, well, serious balls and business chops.

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Nonetheless, she's neither better nor worse than a woman her age who has four children and posts a picture of her child's first day riding the school bus.  Seriously, to each his own. 

"Insert name surely can't always look that gorgeous and together, can she." Real Simple magazine launched a fun hash tag campaign #rsgetreal to disprove that very thought. People posted to Instagram their vulnerable and non-perfect moments.  Dirty dishes. Piles of laundry. Fast food for their kids. It was very refreshing and these were my favorites. I would totally eat the meal in the third shot.

Do you ever feel defeated when no one likes content you thought was wildly genius, share-worthy, or beautiful? I do sometimes.  Have you ever deleted it you felt so bad? Not yet. 

Do you follow someone back as a courtesy even if you're not sure you would be interested to hear/see their personal details? The jury is still out. 

How should you feel when you friend request someone and it remains pending for a super long time in internet terms?  Meaning: a day or heaven forbid twowholedays. Think Zuckerberg in the last scene from Social Network. They portrayed him as a bit of a weasel in that movie anyway but he likely has enough money not to give a crap. 

Do you ever feel you need someone to physically remove your phone from your possession and not give it back for a while so you stop checking emails and refreshing Instagram? Guilty. 

Is it ever awfully tempting to delete all your accounts? As if a burden would be lifted and you'd stop comparing yourself to people you may or may not even know.  It's all relative anyway.Apples are not oranges and never will be. Furthermore, if I truly believe what I have been raised to believe then all the excess is superfluous anyway.  

Some quick thoughts to finish it off.

1. How many pictures is too many pictures, in succession?  
2. Should professionals allow clients, students, colleagues to friend/ follow them?
3. Do we share to spark an emotional response from others, to inspire, to gloat a tad, or just because everyone else is?

Personally, I probably share too much about my pets. I don't have children so this is likely to be the case. I'm also not totally sure how I will share kid-related content if and God-willing when I have children. I post a lot about what I'm eating. I love to eat. Sue me. And I post a lot about family; they are post-worthy and a source of love and hope. 

End post, and tweet. 

Why Life is like the SAT's

I was chatting with a high school student recently. She is in her junior year, the tell-all year. She spoke of college visits, future plans, and of course the SAT's. While I am past my standardized testing high school days, I couldn't help but draw some parallels: why life is like the SAT's.

1. There are expectations. Lots and lots of expectations.
2. It is tempting to disregard the directions. 
3. It is important to read the entire question before blurting out an answer. An informed response will draw better results.
4. A majority of the questions have an exact answer, even if we disagree with it. And we can only pick one: the agony. 
5. The remaining questions are open-ended. Despite our sincerest wishes otherwise, there is no clear cut answer. Even worse, a stranger may judge our efforts. 
6. We are confined to the constraints of a demographic. Vibrant, multifaceted and unique people diminished to an age, race, and/or gender.
7. Not everyone performs well, relatively speaking.  Their talents will manifest in other ways regardless of pressure to conform.
8. It is time-bound. As a result there is an indescribable urgency to get it exactly right. 
9. There are instructions to color within the lines, but the temptation to break outside the boundaries is ever present.
10. It would be wonderful if it came with a handy sheet of formulas. A Pythagorean theorem to get through a breakup, or losing a loved one. A universal equation for picking the right job, the right spouse, the right path. 

As much as life might seem like the SAT's using cheeky little analogies, and I do love analogies, the bottom line is life is not a test. There are no answers, no clear cut directions. No score that dictates exactly where we belong. There will be pressure to do the best we can. To get the perfect score. (MTV even made a movie about this...)

Kyle (Chris Evans) is a high school senior with looming SAT exams on which he needs a high score in order to get into the architechture program he wants to attend. He is also desperate not to end up like his older brother Larry (Matthew Lillard) who is still living at home.

We may feel like we didn't perform well enough. But at the end of life, an SAT score won't make a smidge of a difference. The people we were, will.