Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Think Sticktoitiveness
Stick-to-it-iveness.
If there is one simple key to self-improvement that could serve us well no matter what aspect of our lives we wish to address, I would select —whatever action toward better health you choose: repeat it every day.
Repeat it every day. Don’t stop. If you miss a day, don’t give up. Pick up the next day and the day after that. For a week. Then a month. Six months. A year. No reason to stop now. Keep doing that healthy thing every single day.
Look at the inverse. What do humans do that make themselves suffer negative consequences?
Smoke cigarettes? They smoke every day.
Eat poorly? Day after day.
Not get enough exercise? Harbor negative thoughts and feelings? Don’t get enough sleep? Neglect friends and family? Neglect themselves!
Most of the afflictions we heap upon ourselves grow into problems because of unhealthy choices enacted repeatedly, day after day, over an extended period of time. It’s illogical to think an easy remedy would erase the results in a fraction of the time it took to travel a great distance away from good health.
Turn around. Go the other way. Take a step toward optimal health and then do it again the next day. And then three hundred sixty-five more days after that.
Because. Progress accumulates.
I took the first steps to interrupt my slowly intensifying depression in 1993. As can happen in many situations, things got a little worse after the initial diagnosis and early treatments, but eventually progress settled in and incremental improvement began to develop. Slowly.
Sometimes, in waves. I can almost measure progress by decades. This year, I am noticing new levels of relief that reveal I am continuing to improve, even decades removed from the day doctors released me from medication and therapy treatments. A year ago, I didn’t notice that my mental health was anything less than prime.
It is only by experiencing this unprecedented level of healthy mindset lately that I’ve gained a sense that it wasn’t as good as this before.
Every day, I do something that helps. I also DON’T do things that harm. I don’t do negative self-talk like I used to. I make an effort every day to not do that. I do get exercise, I eat healthy, I smile, I pay better attention to energy, I send love, I sleep well, I write a daily blog. Doing these things regularly and over time, continues to provide accumulating improvements to my mental health.
This year, I am noticing improvements that weren’t so apparent last year.
It really does pay to stick to it.
I invite you to stop doing something today that isn’t healthy for you in the long-term. Replace that with one thing that is healthy that you can do every day. Do it for more days than you ever thought possible. Then do it for a few more years after that.
Here’s to the ongoing journey toward optimal health.
.
.
Flail
.
nope
just nope
flail all you want
reality doesn’t recoil
as change happens
think
about not thinking
so hard
about the very thing
that will happen
because that’s what happens
no matter what
words
get tossed around
without proper attention
to one critical detail
that has to do
with a genuine love
organic
intrinsic
divine
in its simplicity
and as real
as change
.
.
.
Problem Solved
Look! No leaves!
Just in time for Cyndie’s return from Guatemala, 3 or 4 inches of snow have covered up the leaves in the front yard.
She flew to Atlanta last night and texted me from there to bring her a jacket. I grabbed a scarf and mittens, too. The flight from Atlanta left over an hour later than scheduled. It was a middle of the night drive to the Minneapolis airport and back.
Small price to pay to have my baby home again!
Despite a few scares, I kept all the animals alive while she was away. I must say, that’s a welcome relief.
.
.
Simple Feasts
Eating alone this week while Cyndie is out of the country brings back some memories of the year she lived in Boston and I stayed home in Eden Prairie. Cooking for one is always a bit of a trick, but doing so when I’m not the person who does any food prep in this household adds some challenge.
Although, it only becomes a hassle if I happen to venture very far from the few simple choices I tend to produce with embarrassing regularity. Warming already prepared food in a microwave falls right in my wheelhouse.
One task I am pretty handy with in the kitchen is, melting cheese. There aren’t very many leftovers in the refrigerator that I can’t enhance by melting cheese over the top when reheating.
My lovely wife was unnecessarily thorough about providing me with many meal options before she left. The freezer was well stocked and the refrigerator held a variety of delectable leftovers.
Last night, I assembled one of my favorite reworkings of leftover meatloaf.
I toast a slice of bread while heating servings of meatloaf in the microwave. (Doing two things at once in the kitchen! Look at me go!) Place meat on the toast, cover with a slice of cojack cheese, add a little salt and course-ground pepper, then broil until the cheese is bubbly.
It’s a leftover delicacy.
Plus, clean up is a cinch. No pots and pans.
Monday and Tuesday was reheated homemade chicken chow mein, per Cyndie’s suggestion I eat that right away or toss it, as it was approaching an expiration date. Between that and the meatloaf, of which there is still enough remaining to last for days, I might never get to all the things she stocked in the freezer.
I think there may still be some grilled bratwurst patties somewhere in the fridge, too. Add in fresh “homemade” eggs and I will have no problem assembling simple feasts for myself until she gets back.
I certainly won’t have to worry about going hungry.
.
.
Luxury
.
luxury
simple luxury abounds
surrounds
confounds
in abundance
to the point
of being overlooked
an electric outlet
a grocery store
zippers!
socks
broadcast radio
books filled with pages
words
language!
and love
what a luxury
to love
.
.
.
Getting Cold
The weather at the lake this weekend is rather brisk, with filtered sunlight softly glowing through milky clouds. We headed to town for breakfast and a little stroll around yesterday morning. The briskness came across as downright flippin’ cold as we walked the short lengths of sidewalk between warm shops.
I am forever fascinated by how different a temperature of 39° (F) feels the first time it visits in the fall, as compared to the first time it is reached in late winter. Yesterday, the “briskness” was bone chilling. In late winter, temperatures above freezing lead us to lose our hats and open our coats.
We stepped out of the frigid fall air into a shop that sold puzzles. Cyndie encouraged me to revisit a long loved hobby of jigsaw puzzles, so I gave the weird variety of images a serious review. My choice was primarily focused on choosing an actual image, preferably of a landscape that appealed to me.
It was a pretty easy choice, because there was only one that met those parameters. I didn’t really process the note on the cover touting the large piece format, but it turned out to be a perfect choice.
“Easy to See & Handle!”
Why, yes, they are! Ideal for pulling off a one-day build before we need to pack up and head home.
Building a jigsaw puzzle in front of the warm glow from the fireplace while listening to our most memorable music from our dating years just happens to be a very comforting way to deal with that first cold blast of the season after summer ends.
I’m sure I’ll have many more opportunities to be outside re-acclimating my body to winter temperatures in the weeks ahead.
This weekend was focused more on staying warm, which I can report we happily achieved in luxury at this fabulous place on the lake.
.
.
Feeling Happy
Woke up this morning and looked out at the sun coming up over Round Lake in Hayward, Wisconsin and realized we weren’t at home. Then, I remembered the wonderful dinner we had at the Lake Magnor Lighthouse restaurant attached to the convenience store gas station on Hwy 63 in Clayton on the way up.
Servers were fully present and projecting great energy, which enlivened the whole place. We seated ourselves in a booth with a view across the road to Lake Magnor and soaked up the atmosphere. It wasn’t our second honeymoon, but it was feeling a lot like the first one.
This was the first weekend we had coverage to be away since the occasion of our 37th anniversary, so the two of us have dashed up to a solo weekend at the lake. Easily reminiscent of our visit this month back in 1981.
When dinner was delivered, the “bottomless” real fresh-cut potato fries on Cyndie’s plate won me over instantly. This was after I had already visited the salad bar and discovered a spring mix of greens in place of the usual iceberg lettuce, plus every topping I ever wanted. More characteristic of a trendy urban restaurant than this perfectly kitschy rural diner.
Good food, great service, and two oldsters reliving their lifetime of being in love provided all the ingredients necessary for a memorable moment that lasts.
The fact that we’d cluelessly driven past the place so many times before on our travels to the lake enhanced our delight over the serendipity of finally discovering it this time.
I won’t deny that my mindset was already primed with happiness over an achievement earlier in the day that I have been waiting far too long to resolve. We got our home back-up generator serviced!
It has been over five years since installation and I have neglected it ever since, despite repeated mailings urging us to purchase an extended warranty and service contract. There was a constant mental conflict over thinking I was being negligent and they were being overly persistent.
Eventually, I contacted the installer to inquire about a preventive maintenance inspection. They no longer provide support to this product. I tried another place they referred me to, but it only offered long term warranty programs like the one the manufacturer keeps mailing to us.
I mulled over trying to figure things out on my own and changing the oil myself. That never seemed to lead to any action.
Finally, I found a new company that could service it without a long contract and would come from Minnesota to do it. However, they charged me immediately on the day I scheduled the service, and then postponed the appointment twice, both times without warning me in advance.
I was thrilled yesterday afternoon when the tech called to say he was fifteen minutes away. The firmware is updated, oil, spark plugs, and air filters changed, and specs calibrated.
With that completed, I was more than happy when we set off for this lovely weekend celebrating September in the north woods. No wonder the food tasted so good.
.
.
Food Love
Thirty-seven years ago this morning, Cyndie and I woke up in a cute little cabin by the Cascade River on the north shore of Lake Superior. It was the first day of our week-long honeymoon that would ultimately include some camping, and then visits to one of the old Wildwood cabins in Hayward and a night at Telemark Lodge near Cable.
One of the memories we laugh about is a breakfast we enjoyed at a restaurant where everything was perceived as exceptionally perfect. The best eggs ever, the toast was out of this world, the service, the lighting… I believe we were in such a state of newlywed bliss that we were filtering every single experience through a lens overflowing with love.
Or, we just really love food.
Last night I brought home Cyndie’s favorite pizza for dinner. She arrived with a package of coconut infused dark chocolate covered almonds for me.
I gotta say, they tasted pretty close to similarly exceptional as that brilliant breakfast we enjoyed 37 years ago.
.
.
Another Anniversary
It’s our thirty-seventh this year. I’ve been writing and posting daily on this blog for over nine years, and every time September 19 comes along, the topic of the day has acknowledged Cyndie’s and my wedding anniversary, and Julian’s birthday.
I have an annual habit on September 18th of navigating the “Previous Somethings” drop down feature in the right margin to pick the month of September, and then clicking on the day “19” to read each of my prior interpretations of the occasion. It’s a little repetitive, but at least the number of years changes in each post.
I’m not sure what the primary focus of a wedding anniversary is supposed to be. One obvious choice is the ceremony and all that was related to the events of the day.
Another logical area for consideration is the milestone of years. 2018 marks the accomplishment of our 37th year. Is the anniversary a time to review all that our relationship has enjoyed or endured over that period of time?
On that note, which gets more attention? The best of times or the obstacles hurdled?
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
How about examining ways the relationship has changed over the span of time? I’m pretty sure we know each other better now than we did in the early years. Although, we continue to surprise each other and discover new insights as a function of the changes continually occurring in ourselves year after year.
I suppose the most popular detail deserving attention is a revisiting and rekindling of the romance that drew us together in the first place. I fear there may be a few laws of physics that tend to overrule best intentions in that realm.
As noted, Cyndie and I have an additional blessing to enhance our celebration of September 19th. This year it involves one of those round numbers that garners extra significance because it ends in zero.
Happy 30th Birthday, Julian!!
At this point in the father-son relationship, I’m thoroughly enjoying how much more like a brother you seem to me. I never imagined I would enjoy my children as adults as much as I do.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Counting our many blessings today!
.
.
Wrong Number
Yesterday was like two days of work in one, all because of a wrong number. I finally experienced my first wrong number when attempting to send a text message, and fell prey to a prankster who toyed with me rather than let me know.
After the fact, I discovered I had two records in my contacts for my sister, Judy. Who looks at phone numbers any more? I just look at a name on my phone and connect to that. Apparently, I don’t initiate very many texts to my sister.
Last Wednesday, I tried sending her an invite to come visit us before they pack up to head south for the winter. The ruse worked because the initial answer was completely believable as something my sister might say, and it was what I wanted to hear.
The second answer threw me for a loop.
Was that a typo and she meant 11:00 a.m.? What kids was she referring to? Their dogs, or grandkids?
So I asked.
The reply was rather uncharacteristic, but still possible.
I don’t think Judy uses “omg” so much.
How was I supposed to respond to this? What my uncertainty reveals is that am not so good at keeping in touch. Any number of possible changes could have occurred since I last talked with my sister. I just didn’t know if there was maybe something I should know, so I was feeling awkward.
I let some time pass without a response, basically because I didn’t know what to say. Then, after a perfect pause, came a follow-up that let me off the hook.
Except, this just didn’t feel at all like I was texting with Judy. Thus, my reply. Had she been drinking? Did Scott grab her phone and was having some fun with me?
The final reply mentioned our chickens and making sure they were getting enough water because it’s so hot out, so I felt like it had been a weird exchange, but it must be my sister. It was hot out.
Funny how the mind works, because reviewing it later, I realized my previous message mentioned closing the coop, so I had obviously provided that morsel of feigned familiarity. I’m a pretty easy mark.
The result of all this? Cyndie and I operated under an assumption that Judy and Scott would come for the afternoon yesterday. We dove into some heavy work early in the day, clearing out the brush by the road and raking the round pen.
At noon, we showered and prepared for company. I texted Judy again to check status.
This time, no response.
Cyndie texted and got an immediate response. They were already on the road to Arizona, having left the day before I had tried to send the invitation.
That’s when I discovered I had two entries in my contacts for Judy. One was probably so old, she didn’t even recognize the phone number I had used.
With our afternoon now open, we changed back into grubby clothes and headed out to move piles of compost and spread fresh lime screenings in the paddocks.
It was a two-shower day. A different day than we had planned, but with twice the accomplishments than we had expected when we started out. Plus, Judy, Cyndie and I got a good laugh out of it.
Oops, wrong number!
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 