Sometimes You Feel Like a Nut, A Father's Day Tribute

I’ve been thinking about my dad lately. Father’s Day is approaching and even though my pop died more than 15 years, I still think about the kind of gift he might like to have for Father’s Day.

Dad had a weird sense of humor and wasn’t particularly helpful when we asked himfor gift suggestions. Each year it was the same.

Me: “Dad, what do you want for Father’s Day?”
Dad: “A new butt. Mine’s cracked.”

This was the same response for Christmas, birthdays and other gift-giving occasions. I don’t know which was sillier, his corny response or the fact that my siblings and I continued to ask the same question.

That is not to say that we didn’t come up with some good gifts over the years. My brothers took him to ball games, my older sister , Diane, bought tickets so he and mom could go to a show, my sister, Tina’s fiancé bought him a new television and VCR (back when the technology was new.) My sister-in-law, Joannie, always bought him a new pair of slippers. Dad wore slippers all the time so he needed replacements on a regular basis.

However, the gift that I think he enjoyed the most was a nutcracker my spouse, John, and I bought him. It wasn’t any ole nutcracker. This little marvel held the nut in place and a weight (released from a rubber-band-type launcher) cracked the pecans in half.

My dad loved nuts and we had three pecan trees in the yard. Having grown up in the heart of Chicago but probably being a country boy at heart, my dad loved it that he could go outside, gather nuts and pick fruit (especially citrus) and make something from scratch. Even during his years of dementia he never tired of making fresh squeezed lemonade or cracking a bowl full of pecans.

What made this gift special is it was directly related to his passion. Now cracking nuts is not MY passion, but it was something my dad loved to do. So rather than buy him Old Spice or another useless tie, we hit the mark with the nut cracker that year.

But now that my dad is gone, I still think of how I might have done things differently. What my father (and I think most fathers) want is to spend quality time with their children. As we get older we have the money to purchase bigger and better things, but finding the time to spend the day with dad is sometimes more difficult than cracking a nut without a cracker. It makes me think of the Harry Chapin song, “Cats in the Cradle” song chronicling the busy life of a father and son.

However, I found a simple answer while promoting my clients, International Academy of Hair Design, ITS Academy of Beauty, Hair Benders and Olympian University. They have a father/son special for two haircuts for the price of one. Here is a link to the Arizona press release, but the same deal is in effect at all their schools in Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Florida.

http://www.prlog.org/11888004-show-dad-you-know-how-to-save-buck-on-haircuts.html

It can be difficult to find the time to spend an entire evening or afternoon with dad, but we all need to have our hair cut. Why not ask dad to come and join you for a simple errand? It could be a trip to the post office, a walk to the store, or you could even ask your pop to ride shot gun while you pick up the kids from school. The added bonus to the haircut idea is it shows dad that you know how to manage your money well too. I don’t know about your father, but my dad would have been very pleased to see that I knew a good deal when I saw one.

I miss my dad, but when I think of the corny things he used to say, it still makes me smile. The other day I was helping my granddaughter with her toilet training. She goes to preschool and she is obsessed with what the name of everything is. She pointed to her butt and said, “What’s my butt’s name?” I told her “Briannah’s butt.” If she would have said “I want a new one, mine’s cracked” I would know that my dad had reincarnated back into our lives again.

Of course she didn’t say that, but when she smiled at her question (she knew she was being funny) I couldn’t help but think a new nut was had been born into the family. And with her budding sense of humor it would seem the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Migraine Headaches and Asking Why

I have always enjoyed being around children. I admire their honesty and openness. My grandchildren are two and four years old. They see wonder in everything. In fact, Briannah, the younger of “the girls” as I call them, “wonders” about everything. She is always asking “why?”
The apple didn’t fall far from the tree as the tot’s mother, Alicia, was the queen of inquisition as a child. She would ask about gravity and her father, an engineer, would answer her. She would ask me how electricity worked and I would tell her, “magic.” That’s the best answer I had for her other than the proverbial, “Go ask your father.”
I don’t ask “why” too much anymore in my everyday life. I sometimes will ask the other w’s I learned from my journalist’s handbook, who, what, where and when. But “why” seems to allude me.
However, during a recent session with Theta Healer, Tiffany Bil (www.tiffanybil.com) “why” became the question of the day. I was getting a session to help cure my migraine headaches. These skull-crushing pains have cursed me, and the majority of my family members, for years (very often migraines are hereditary.) I’ve been to family practice doctors, a neurologist, past life regression therapists and psychics to no avail. I can reduce the pain by taking imitrex and its generic brand, but the headache still press on.
One time, my friend, Lauren, and I performed a ceremony where we wrote down our thoughts about our headaches.. We dialogued and decided that part of the problem is we believed it was a connection to our past ancestors. We decided that we could honor our ancestors without engaging in the migraines they passed on through our DNA, or whatever trait comes in the headache package. After we wrote down our thoughts we burned the paper. I know this works for getting rid of other negativity. In fact, it is mentioned in my book, Erase Negativity and Embrace the Magic Within.
Lauren reduced her headache load considerably. I got one the next day.
However, when I was in session with Rev. Tiffany Bil, she asked me how my headaches served me? What benefit was I getting from my headaches? I know when I was a kid and my mom got a headache, we were not allowed to pester her. She would lay down with the curtains drawn and not emerge until she felt better. We were not the best-behaved or considerate kids on the block, but I do remember leaving her alone when she was down with a migraine.

My children, Alicia and Brittany, were more considerate. Plus their dad would usher them away from me when I didn’t feel well. If they did sneak in to see me I would ask them to rub my feet. I think the thought of massaging my crusty heels were too much for them and I would get my rest. Sometimes as much as 12 hours.
My children are grown now and I don’t need to hide from them. But I still get headaches. However, after talking to Tiffany and having a session with her, I did become more aware of the possible “whys” that could be contributing to my migraines.

I don’t have all the answers yet, but at least I’m asking the questions. The same can be said for erasing negativity. There are times when we need to stop and ask ourselves, “How is this negative behavior benefiting me?” Once you come to grips with the fact that you are holding onto a behavior or belief system that no longer serves you, the next step is to get rid of it and replace with something more empowering.
If you are interested in learning more, please view my you tube video 3 ways to erase negativity


http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=you+tube%2c+erase+negativity&mid=A201AF28DD8AB5981397A201AF28DD8AB5981397&view=detail&FORM=VIRE1


Whether it is emotional or physical pain or negativity, there is no reason to suffer. There are steps you can take to enjoy a happier, more optimistic life. And if that answer isn’t a good enough response to “why?” then here’s another answer: Because I told you so, that’s why.

Walk a Mile in my Cleats

You can’t pick up a women’s magazine without seeing an article about weight loss or exercise. Eat less, exercise more and you’ll lose inches, feel better, live longer blah, blah, blah. Is there anyone on the planet who doesn’t know this? We can hope for a magic fat-eating capsule and certainly the fitness and weight loss industries are making billions of dollars hoping we’ll pin our hope on their latest products, but the bottom line is there is no easy solution. Losing weight takes work. Before I hit middle age I never had a weight problem. I didn’t eat much, I kept reasonably active and I probably inherited decent genetics from my folks. Of course it may not have been genetics. My mom was wafer thin, but she lived on cigarettes and coffee. Not a diet I’d recommend. She remained thin her entire life, but it cut years off her life as well. I have not followed in mom's footsteps. I never liked cigarettes, so I had that going for me. Unfortunately at middle age I decided I enjoyed food, ate more AND exercised less. Guess what? I gained weight. This is not rocket science. It’s the simple truth. Bummer. On the other hand, my spouse, CB, is a fitness fantatic. There’s not a hill that does not beckon CB’s jogging shoes or mountain bike. My spousal unit loves to exercise. I wish I shared that enthusiasm. I USED to enjoy working up a sweat, feel the burn of my muscles straining. Boy those days are gone. I want to have a long, healthy life, so I make some effort to get my heart rate up. I would walk up the hill in our housing development, occasionally lifts some weights and do a few sit ups, but even I know this was a weak attempt at fitness. When we lived in Arizona my handy excuse for avoiding exercise was the heat. We have three cold days a year in Arizona, so this excuse worked pretty well. Or so I thought. It didn’t help me squeeze into a smaller size of clothes or improve my fitness, it was simply an excuse that made sense. It IS hot there most of the year. Of course there are indoor options too, but let's not pick my excuse apart so easily. Then we moved to the Pacific Northwest. Maybe it gets hot here, but I doubt it. My tried and true reasoning has evaporated into the balmy atmosphere. Of course I could use the excuse that it is too cold, or it’s raining (which is usually is) but it’s not as if I don’t own a raincoat and umbrella. My excuses were no longer serving me so I’ve decided it was time to turn over a new leaf. Some of this was forced on me as my car still lives in Arizona. That means I have to hoof it to most of my destinations. After a little initial grumbling, I have come to enjoy walking again. I see beautiful flowers, blooming bushes and verdant lawns. Of course I can’t make myself just walk for the sake of walking. I like to have a destination. So I amble to the store and I trot off to the post office. A part of me does this begrudgingly. I may have co-authored a self-help book on erasing negativity, but that does not mean I don’t battle my own internal grouch. I’ve just decided I will wage war on her every day – and win. Part of my strategy was to join a softball team. I found a team that would not only take me, but actually wanted me. At first several practices were cancelled due to a soggy field. But alas today was bright and sunny. The problem is the field is 1.9 miles away. There aren’t too many places I’m willing to walk more than a mile to visit, but the softball field is one of them. I packed my cleats and glove, stuck them in a back pack and marched off to practice. When I have a glove or bat in my hand I have more incentive to move my body. I’m more motivated when I’m trying to catch a fly ball, field a grounder, smack a ball out of the infield or run to first base. It’s not drudgery. It’s a joy. After practice I took off my cleats and made the trek home. I was tired, but happy. Losing weight, exercising and reducing negativity takes work. I wish I could promise an effortless solution, but there isn’t one. However, whether you work at becoming happy, or work AT something (like softball) because it makes YOU happy, something magical happens. What once felt like work is now fun. Whether it’s playing softball, dancing to zumba, kayaking or simply taking the dog for a walk, the trick to health and happiness is to find something you enjoy doing, stick with it and slowly extend the amount of time and effort you put into your joyful endeavor. If you can’t find anything that engages your soul, pick the least objectionable task you can think of and see if you can squeeze a little happiness out of it. The next day do it again and squeeze the task a little longer. Before you know it you will have squeezed your proverbial lemon into lemonade. For you pessimists or exercise grouches haters out there, I feel your pain. But I promise you if you get out there and make an effort, you will feel better. You would know if you walked a mile in my cleats.

Trolling for Laughter

When my friend, Jackie, and I set out to write our book, Erase Negativity and Embrace the Magic Within we knew we were not experts in psychiatry or philosophy. We were simply two women who had seen the devastating effect of men and women suffering from self-inflicted negativity and we vowed to do something about it. However, sometimes the teacher becomes the student. Thus was the case at a mini workshop I coordinated in Port Angeles, WA at InSpired Gift Shop. Our group was small, but lively. The ages of the attendees varied from a middle school student to an octogenarian. I warned the group early on that I had no intention of pontificating for the duration of the workshop. I expected their input. Since we kicked off the workshop with an ice breaker to help me learn everyone’s name I could call upon them directly by name. After that everyone knew anonymity was impossible, so rather than shrinking into a corner (an (impossible feat based on how I configured the seating arrangement) everyone dove right in and offered insights and obstacles one faces regarding negativity. Elizabeth was the first to respond with an example of diverting negative responses from others. She told us that she was 80 years old (she looked two decades younger) and many of her friends suffered from a wide range of pain and illness. None of us can escape either of these maladies, but another participant, Rebecca offered hope. She shared her experience with an elderly man that she visited when she was working for hospice. She listened attentively to his depressing situation. Clearly she was not in a position to do anything about his very real illness and pain. However, she asked him what he enjoyed doing when he had been in better health. He mentioned his love of playing cards. The next visit she brought a deck of cards and they played gin rummy. Both had a wonderful time. We cannot “fix” every problem but that does not mean we can’t do something to improve the situation. I did my typical spiel about the importance of smiling. Later, I put on a little finger puppet that looked like a horned troll. Three of the participants (two midwives and one OB/GYN) imagined the look on their patient’s faces if they approached a typical gynecological exam with this puppet on their finger. Of course everyone laughed. Whether that finger puppet ever makes it to the women’s clinic remains to be seen. However the image of that mini, orange troll will probably live on in the memory of both the medical staff who were present for the workshop, as well as in the minds of the remaining participants (all female) at their next well woman exam. Even the Buddha could not fix the four sufferings of birth, old age, sickness and death. However, we all have the ability to learn from our situations and become wiser from the experience. The trick is to use our creativity to find a way to handle things in an optimistic way. When all else fails imagine the doctor donning a thorny finger puppet on his or her finger before your next gynecological or prostate exam. If that doesn’t produce a chuckle I don’t know what will.

Strawberry Fields Forever?

I am trying my hand at gardening. The IDEA of backyard horticulture has appealed to me for a long time. Unfortunately aspiration and execution are two different things. My lone attempt at growing my own vegetables is embarrassing. We had a big yard and I thought my baby daughter, Alicia, deserved pesticide-free, home-grown veggies. With health in mind and hoe in hand I trotted off to become an Arizona version of Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? And contrary I soon became. The first problem was the ground was like cement. In fact I learned it WAS cement or caliche, a natural form of concrete. After a few attempts at hacking away at the anvil-like soil, I asked my husband, John, to ready the area by digging it up and creating rows. I, of course, would do the rest. My memory is hazy, but I think he not only tilled the soil he probably did most of the planting too. No problem, I would pull the weeds and water. Again, I have a little historical amnesia. I remember pulling some stringy weeds, but maybe John wound up assuming the watering duties too. At any rate, when it was time for our harvest our bounty consisted of two snow pea sprigs and a bunch of radishes. Planting radishes was John’s idea. I think radishes are nasty so of course they proliferated like bunnies on a holiday. In retrospect, I was young and did not have a realistic idea (or attitude) about the work a garden would entail. I thought I’d throw a few seeds out there, squirt them with a hose and something would magically happen. Well, something did – a plethora of nasty radishes. However, since John did most of the work it only seems fair he could eat his bountiful root vegetables with relish (or mustard?) I know I’d have to put something on it to make it edible for MY taste buds. Now I live in the Pacific Northwest. The ground is soft and rich. The owners of the house where I now reside not only planted a garden, they put a fence around it to keep the munching deer at bay. When I first moved in I noted a few weeds in the garden, but I thought I could handle it. I just needed a nice sunny day to get started. Problem numero uno. Waiting for a sunny day in this neck of the woods is like waiting for hell to freeze over in Phoenix. While I bided my time rain came and weeds followed. During this interim I traveled to Arizona for my high school reunion. When I returned a week later my garden became a field of dandelions! So now I have to pull weeds before I can plant. These weeds are actually kind of pretty, but they are weeds none-the-less and they will not help my garden grow. It reminds me of negativity. People have all sorts of reasons for having uncharitable thoughts, speech and actions. Many pessimistic individuals claim that while a negative outlook may provide fewer positive results, it also protects them from disappointment. Unfortunately, negativity is more like a cancer than a protective shield. It starts small, and may seem innocent enough at first, but if not minimized, it can grow out of control. Waiting for the right time to change your grouchy tendencies is not in your best interest either. Manure may be good for the soil, but a poopy attitude is not and neither is procrastination. It’s like my experience with my weedy garden. So what can we do about it? Let’s take this example a step further. Imagine each negative thought you have is a crabgrass, curly dock or broadleaf plantain. Sometimes weeds can look like the beginning of a “good plant” so you may be hesitant to pull that puppy out. However, weeds, like negativity, become easier to identify with time. Once you make a conscious effort you will recognize the culprit, pull it out by the roots and substitute bad thinking with better thinking. Or in the gardening world, substitute crabgrass for something tastier such as my all-time favorite fruit - strawberries. Whether it’s reducing grouchy thoughts, speech and actions or battling the urge to procrastinate, creating a happier life is a lot like gardening. It takes work, but the rewards are worth the struggle. Speaking of struggle, as I write this article he sun is peaking out and my garden beckons. It’s time to do a weed purge. And as I pull each offending plant out by the roots I will try not to curse the earth I hope will nourish me. I have no one to blame for this mess but myself. And after all my hard work is done and a necessary amount of time has passed, I will be well on my way to (forgive me John, George, Paul and Ringo) strawberry fields forever.

Rain and a Soppy Disposition

It’s raining. In fact it has been raining most of the day. I’m from Arizona where rain is not a regular occurrence, so when I encounter a long bout of soppy weather I get a bit incredulous.

“You’ve been at this all day, don’t you think it’s time to move on?” I say to the clouds outside my window. Of course the rain doesn’t listen to me. It just keeps plink, plink, plinking on the roof, the patio and my muddy yard.

When we moved to the Pacific Northwest I knew we were in for some wet weather. I love the greenery here and I know it doesn’t get that way by accident. Yet, I’m annoyed. I keep looking for the sun and a rainbow that isn’t ready to appear - at least not yet.

Those of you who have lived in wet environments probably have no sympathy for my plight. This is not unusual. Most folks who have not suffered from a particular problem or situation do not have the ability to empathize. This is not limited to the weather. It is a rare person who has compassion for someone whose plight is unlike one from their own experience.

That is why I always find it interesting when I give talks about erasing negativity and someone invariably asks for advice on how to erase negativity in someone else.

The short answer for this is you cannot change the mindset of someone else. However, you have total control over your own thoughts, speech and actions. Even though most of us understand this, we still find ourselves wanting to change the horrible actions or behavior of someone else.

It’s like the conversation I’m having with the clouds. Say what I want, my opinion of the weather is not going to have any impact on the outcome. I can curse the clouds, sing a song of joy or go dancing naked in the streets. The rain is not going to stop until it’s good and ready.

So what is the point you ask? While we have total control over ourselves, we choose to have more thoughts, speech and actions condemning someone else. That attitude is a real joy sucker. My advice is to accept people for who they are. Sometimes that means staying the heck away from them. But waiting for them to change is as fruitless as cursing the rain.

Change yourself where you can and leave it at that. Mark Twain is quoted as saying, “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.” The same is true of trying to change others.

With that in mind I’m going to stop complaining, suck it, put on my raincoat and umbrella and enjoy the afternoon. I may not be able to do anything about the weather, but I can do something about to encourage a sunnier disposition.

Defying Gravity

My 2-year-old granddaughter, Briannah likes to sleep. She takes a nap with little or no resistance and goes to bed at night without a fuss. She did not inherit this trait from her mother, Alicia. Both of my daughters eschewed naps at an early age and kept me hopping the entire time they were awake.

However, Briannah seems to enjoy the cuddliness of a soft blanket, the cozy feeling of her stuffed bear, and her bed time routines. I can’t help but think that she has happy dreams. Sometimes I ask her what she dreams about and she does try to tell me.

One time her aunt Brittany (who Briannah and her sister Rosannah call Aunt Birney) babysat them one day and I watched the girls the following morning. When I asked Briannah what she dreamed about she tried to tell me something about princesses and Aunt Birney. I didn’t understand the whole story, but it did seem like a pleasant nocturnal experience for her.

I did not have happy dreams until well into middle age. It seemed my sleep was littered with a mish mash of the day’s events and threats of natural disasters – particularly tidal waves. Fortunately I lived most of my life in Arizona so this was not a serious threat in my awakened state. But just to make sure I don’t have any other watery disasters I usually wake up to pee at 2 a.m.

Last night I had a dream about playing basketball. I tried to make a shot and the ball fell embarrassingly short. I remember thinking that my upper body strength was in dire need of exercise. This is true in real life too, but I don’t need try to shoot hoops to recognize this obvious fact. However, I was tenacious in my dream, practiced a few layups and finally made a shot from the free throw line by executing the granny shot maneuver. It wasn’t pretty, but it was effective.

Next I decided to work on my vertical jump. This is laughable, so I’m glad my slumbered state was kinder than reality. In my dream I had the ball, squeezed my eyes shut, let the energy well forth from my body, then I shot a couple feet into the air. Then I stopped. Yes, in mid air I hovered in one spot. However, rather than falling back to the ground like any good Newtonian-believing mortal, I slowly, but effortlessly rose the rest of the way to the ceiling. Being the cocky little being I am in my dreams, I touched coup on the ceiling every time (because I could.)

This is counter to my thoughts and actions in real life where I believe you have to use tremendous effort and never backslide. And being vertically challenged, it is a rare ceiling that has been touched by my stubby, little fingers.

The problem was the time between when I willed myself into the air, stopped and continued the effortless part of my ascent, took a couple of seconds. This was still a lot of fun, but if I was going to block any shots, I was going to have to make the whole process one, smooth move.

Fortunately, after a few attempts I was not only able to do this jump vertically, I could do a gravity-bending side to side maneuver as well. I was defying gravity, blocking shots and dunking the ball with ease. Woohoo!
I don’t know where that dream came from. I’m 5 foot 2 inches tall, middle aged, haven’t touched a basketball in years. I need only look at my chest to realize that I, nor my body parts, can defy gravity. But it was a cool dream none the less.

After I woke up I thought that the dream symbolized balancing effort (revving my internal engine) and letting go of the urge to want to control everything and creating an opportunity for the universe to work a little magic.

As I shift into my daily routine today I can’t say that I feel compelled to shoot hoops or jump in the air. But I have to admit, the ceiling looks a lot lower today than it did yesterday.