Tag: Gratitude

Filling the Gaps in My Giddyup

The other day at Maj Jong, yes I said Maj Jong, a friend walked in to play. Another looked at me and said,” look at her feet.” I looked down and she was wearing two different shoes.

They were similar, but one was a darker shade and different texture.

I laughed out loud. Not to make fun of my friend, but from sheer relief knowing I wasn’t the only one.

Lately I’ve been thinking, well, that thinking is actually becoming a luxury. I find myself needing to focus on one thing to get it done right when I used to do at least three things at a time with little effort.

Those days are sadly gone. And I’m not referring to the times I walk into a room and forget why.

When leaving physical therapy the other day, a thought occurred to me…my body has now learned a new talent. Compensation. That’s right, even at my age I am still learning.

When I tore my rotator cuff the doctor strongly suggested I have surgery. I suggested just as strongly that I try PT first. I decided it was worth trying the least painful method before subjecting myself to an invasive procedure. So I took myself to PT determined to fix a broken and badly torn up shoulder.

My doctor was skeptical and assumed I’d be back and sign up for the procedure shortly. He was wrong. Never underestimate the cowardly.

What I noticed after beginning the work of forcing my muscles to do the work of the torn pieces of my shoulder, was that they were not exactly thrilled by the prospect.

But I wasn’t any more thrilled at the thought of having surgery so I persisted.

After a while they gave in. Oh sure the tear is still there, but my other muscles have compensated and I can use my arm.

I suppose that at a certain age it becomes all for one and one for all where our bodies and minds are concerned.

We become good at compensating for the parts that don’t work very well any longer, and we fall into patterns that will allow us to keep trudging along.

Much like an old car that needs repairs constantly to keep running.

And running is something my body wants no part of, compensation or not.

If it’s true that necessity is the mother of invention, our bodies are a real mother.

They somehow find a way to offset the parts of us that have slowed down. Or others that refuse to work at their previous at all some days.

Sometimes without even being aware it’s happening. Finding a way to continue with the activities we once took for granted can suddenly become a challenge. Yet there is no doubt we must battle to do so.

Much like hearing our whole lives that if one loses a sense, the other four become more acute.

It should be no surprise to us that our brain finds a way to continue using our bodies in the way to which we have become accustomed.  

The brain is the ultimate computer, yet like all electronics it becomes obsolete as new updates are installed.

My Iphone and computer stopped communicating so one had to go.

However, unlike manmade technology the brain has unlimited new circuits and programs one can install. It is a great manager and an untapped resource.

They say we only use a small part of our brain capacity. If so, our bodies should be able to adapt and form new wiring as needed.

The experts say AI will help us to achieve this. Perhaps, but in the interim we are on our own. Many say learning new things like a language opens new pathways in the brain. Pretty much I’ve found it just adds more stuff in there to forget.

Adapting and compensating for the things that don’t work as well as they once did is on us.

I guess we can help it along by being open to new ways of thinking, moving and caring for our bodies.

I suppose there are many ways to continue at a healthy pace. At least doctors and researchers say so.  Little things we do each day can either help us slow down aging or speed it up.

Despite the pep talks, we all seem to age differently. I have friends who play pickleball while I opt for retail cardio to exercise.

Some find themselves slowed down considerably mentally and physically, while others move about as though no time passed at all.

Is it luck? Is it genes? Or is it a result of past choices? Beats the hell out of me. Perhaps in the end it’s a combo of all of those.

Food, exercise, using our brain, staying in motion, yata yata yata is all supposed to play a part. I haven’t the nerve to tell my body parts that chocolate is on the endangered list. No way I’m going there.

Whatever the answer it’s a simple fact we all could do better in some ways. And should we always be grateful to still be here and schlepping along, peak performance or not? For sure. We definitely should. Life can be enjoyable in new ways and surprises we never expected, so moving forward optimistically is always the way to go.  

Whatever our limitations, hopefully ending up with matching shoes each morning should at least be within our reach. Boy these walking shoes all look alike now where is the mate to this…?

Are You There, God? It’s Me Again.

I have a friend I’ve mentioned before, but to protect the innocent I shall refrain from using her name and instead call her D.

D and I have always agreed on most things. We both truly believe it’s imperative one live in state of gratitude. Every day should begin and end with a big thank you to the big boss.

I make it a habit not to break this rule because the one day I do may be the one I need the whole grateful thing the most. Or perhaps the head honcho will take it upon himself to remind me about the gratitude thing in a very unpleasant way.

D and I are of like mind. She has always spent a great deal of time with the thank you part and added the please, please, please part as well for good measure.

Every time God took off his Bose headphones, which he invented to drown out all our bitching and moaning, D’s voice greeted him immediately with the D prayer specialty, please, please protect everyone I love.

When we were young the pleas happened a few times a day. Of course there were other things to do back then that took preference over the whole constant prayer thing.

We had diapers to change, children to raise, meals to prepare, laundry to do, phone calls to return and husbands to placate.

At that point God pretty much took the few exchanges in stride. I’m sure in a strange way he was comforted by the way she felt the need to communicate each day.

Fast forward and now our duties are far fewer. Our children now believe they are raising us, carry out is the thing and returning calls are now a great many texts instead.

As our tasks grew fewer, D’s pleas increased exponentially. Her Please God communications took on a more desperate tone.

Have you seen this world lately? We all spend a great deal more time now on the what-the-hell-is-going-on-here part of life.

Of course we always worried about our loved ones, but that was then. And this is now, and in no way are those two worlds even related.

When we were kids, life was the opposite of today. We didn’t even lock our doors. We stayed out playing until the street lights went on and we could walk to school or a friend’s house many blocks away on our own.

Now we not only lock our doors, we have them bolted, alarmed and a gun within reach. I’m surprised Gucci hasn’t come out with a line of GG Uzis at its store on Rodeo Drive.

No kid can play safely outside unless someone is watching on constant alert. In big cities like New York and LA a dog is no longer safe from kidnapping on the streets. I sure wouldn’t want to be a French bulldog!

So I understand well the desperation in D’s voice when she begs please, please, please watch over my children and grandchildren.

Although I am making light of this urge to beg the Big Guy to pay attention, I think we all know what happens when God turns the other way, for even a second.

At this age we have seen too much and cried too many tears when those pleas go unanswered and the worst happens. I lost a close cousin to street crime many, many years ago and it’s still always a part of my psyche.

We still beg and cajole for protection from the enormous amount of evil that has infected the world. Now more than ever before.

So is it possible to make any significant difference in what the future holds living in a state of gratitude?

After all many people live in other states. Places like the state of denial or entitlement or it-can’t- happen-to-me land.

Sadly the bad stuff happens to everyone. Some of course more than others. Yet even those who purport to be above such occurrences usually face the inevitable truth that they are indeed merely mortal like the rest of us.

I imagine in the end it’s all about coping. A protective mechanism that allows us to believe we have some sort of power over our destiny. That begging for help from someone or something greater than us may somehow stem the tide of evil.

Intellectually we know bad stuff happens whether or not we pray, beg or deny reality. Yet something inside still wants to believe we can enforce some sort of control over our existence and the lives of those we love.

So is it helping as the world grows more dangerous each minute?

In a strange way for some it is. The need to believe is strong and helps us get through a day. We cannot underestimate the power of positive thinking despite whatever proof has been offered otherwise.

Believing someone hears our pleas offers us a respite from the constant stress living in a harsh and frightening world inflicts. It allows us a partner to watch our back in case it is turned at an inopportune moment.

I guess we will never know for certain whether our prayers and pleas have deterred any evil from coming our way, but we must take some small modicum of comfort in believing they will.

I imagine as the world becomes even more scary the more God will need those Bose headphones. I’m always hoping he can still hear us through the Janis Joplin songs he’s blasting in his ears.

If we learned anything as we grew older, it’s that one needs to do what one can to get through the day. If it takes some gratitude and begging, I say go for it. Wasn’t it God or one of his spokespeople who said, “Ask and ye shall receive?”  

Living in a State of Gratitude. Is That Even Possible?

Lately an expression seems to be going around that is quickly getting overused and overworked. In California there is an overabundance of platitudes called upon far too frequently. Aside from hearing this newest addition ad nauseum, I am seriously wondering what it really means.

More and more there are those who wish to portray themselves as superior, virtuous beings by constantly expressing they are living in a state of gratitude.

My question is first and foremost, where is the state of gratitude? Is it in the USA? I don’t think so. We only have fifty states last time I heard. Although I read somewhere they are adding a fifty first, the State of Confusion. It would be the most populated state in America.

Is the state of gratitude in Europe? Highly doubtful. Maybe an island in the Caribbean or the Cayman’s where lots of Americans could join their money.

How would we find it? Is it on a map? Perhaps it’s hanging around under the water near Atlantis. The lost city of gratitude and only a fortunate few are lucky enough to have seen it.

Is it expensive to live there? How is the food? Should you rent or own?

What are the laws in the state of gratitude? Is there inflation and how are the interest rates there? What type of cuisine do they feature?

So after hearing people talk about this new locale now more visited than the Grand Canyon, I had to wonder: Do you live there all the time or can you leave and come back again? Do you need a passport?

It seems to me that no one could live there all day, every day and although most make it sound as though they do, I can’t imagine that is the case.

I mean you are driving along living in the state of gratitude and suddenly someone plows into your brand-new Mercedes.

Hmmm. Do you now leave the state of gratitude for a few moments to bitch and yell at the idiot who cut you off and smashed your new car?

Is your first response. Oh thank you. I’m so grateful you crashed into my new car and gave me a serious whiplash. Why am I doubting that is the case?

Pretty silly to walk around saying I live in a state of gratitude isn’t it? Simply because that would be impossible.

Those who are constantly preaching about their occupancy in that state, make it seem it’s like a total 100% existence.

We all have heard our whole lives that those who are thankful for both the little and big things in life are happiest, so all strive for that meaning.

We are grateful for the people we love and thankful they are well. We are happy when we get up in the morning, open our eyes and see another day.

Let’s be realistic here; life for most of us is a roller coaster of ups and downs. The human condition dictates we must face those challenges we are afflicted by daily.

Death, illness, a bad turn of events we didn’t expect, having to listen to the stupidity out of the mouths of politicians and all other means of unpleasantness to which flesh is heir.

So does living in a state of gratitude mean that when something horrible happens we are not allowed to be bummed? That we are not allowed to feel badly for someone who is suffering a loss or streak of misfortune?

I think it’s wonderful when one can say, even in the darkest of times they are grateful for all the good they have. Despite the negativity thrust upon them.

That is called optimism, thankfulness, gratitude or however you wish to identify the feeling, and it’s a good way to live.

Yet when one literally brags constantly about how grateful they are, it rings hallow. It feels as though someone is lecturing or bragging. Does it mean that when misfortune appears we are less of a person if at that moment of pain we don’t feel any gratitude at losing a loved one? Or for hearing the misfortunate of a friend or witnessing the horrors we see every day now in the world?

It almost makes one feel as though these people who constantly preach about their own sense of gratitude are somehow lording it over the rest of us.

That they know something we don’t and have discovered the answer to the riddle of the Sphinx.

I figured it all out and you’re all still in the dark.

Are they so enlightened they can stay in a state of gratitude even when the very nature of human existence is to feel sorrow, happiness, pain, remorse and empathy?

Shall we simply rise above every excruciating deed we witness and say I can’t feel this I’m in the state of gratitude. That’s my protection, so pass me a brownie, please. What type of gates can protect one from the emotions life delivers daily?

I must object to those who would tout their unfailing thankfulness when we merely see someone who is saying, I’m cool with everything and it’s great to be me. I have what I need to be happy, you need to get yours.

There will be times in every life when it’s almost impossible to be grateful. That isn’t the grand plan. Life throws us curveballs and even when we try to hit it out of the park, we sometimes fall short of the fence.

Although we as humans aspire to the highest ideals, it is a long-established fact on planet earth you won’t find perfection here.

It’s easy to be grateful for the great moments in life that come our way, but being grateful for the little things is a cultivated talent. Indeed, one for which we all should strive.  But it’s hard to listen to those who speak about gratitude as a new dress or outfit they can don as easily as slipping it over their head.

We are grateful and should be. We just are not grateful for those who tell us when and how to feel thankful. I imagine that is between us and our maker, and holier-than-thous should just keep their platitudes to themselves.

P.S. I’m thankful for all my readers, so that’s one for me. Have a great day and be grateful for how easy it still is to find chocolate.

Shoes at Least

                                 Shoes at Least

 ‘The time has come, ‘the walrus said, ‘to talk of many things: of shoes and ships-and sealing wax-of cabbages and kings.’ Lewis Carroll

Shoes are ironic. Oh I know no one actually would say that or perhaps even think as I do about the true meaning of shoes, but women understand shoes are not simply pieces of leather sewn together, but a religious experience. Women worship at the Temple of Manolo. And I must agree with Marilyn Monroe when she famously said, “Give a girl the right pair of shoes and she can conquer the world.” From Louboutin to Nine West, women can work a heel.

But I should get back to the ironic part. When I was young I adored shoes and wore Capezios all the time. Every new pair and new color that was produced found its way into my closet. 

My father used to ask, “What do you need more shoes for?” 

Poor guy never got it. Dad, women don’t need shoes, we crave them like chocolate when we’re PMSing. Helps fill in the other 20 days a month and keep us on an even keel.

So the irony here, despite my father’s constant puzzlement about my addiction, is that when you’re older and have the money to finally give in to your habit. When your children are all out of the house, when you have enough money too keep your grandchildren in Lego sets, when it’s all about you and your shoeboxes, and you don’t need those running shoes anymore, the unthinkable happens.

Your damn feet start aching.  

“Why do they hurt,” you ask. 

Usually from wearing all those fabulous heels when you were younger and now you have hammertoes and planters fasciitis or heel spurs, flatfeet, corns, bunyans and all kinds of evil gremlins that keep you from sliding your foot into the gorgeous Manolo with the four-inch heel.

Ouch. 

Of course you panic. Why wouldn’t you? Your closet is filled to the brim with fabulous footwear. Magnificent specimens of foot coverings that make your friends drool and your feet ache undamnbelieveably.

So it’s off to the podiatrist we go. 

“Doc my arch is killing me and I can’t seem to stand in these heels anymore.”

He examines the shoe you hold up for him to see and a smirk crosses his face. 

Aha he thinks, the moment of bliss for him is the moment of sorrow for you. You are at odds. For now your feet belong to him and not to those fabulous Jimmy Choos you are trying to avoid wetting with your tears.

Okay, so aren’t there worse things in life than simply not being able to wear high heels anymore?

Well of course there are, but that’s the point. Shoes are a metaphor for life. In a nutshell they are the perfect example for where it all leads, the meaning of life, the ultimate screw you from the universe.

Just when you think you have it all, the universe steps in and laughs. “Kidding” it says and takes it all away.

Oh I’m not talking about the Monolos I’m talking about life.

I use shoes because it is easy for my female readers to relate to the joy of slipping into a pair of four-inch heels and admiring the turn of a calf. Or the way you feel glamorous and fabulous and ready to face the world armed and dangerous in those open-toed spikes.

For men I must use a different metaphor. It’s when you retire and can play golf all day and you tear your rotator cuff.

But life can be a cruel master as we’ve all seen far too many times.

The ability to rationalize is the most important and underappreciated human talent.

I myself am a gold medal winner in the sport and I know many of my friends compete with me on a daily basis.

Why is rationalization the key to a happy life?

So often we hear the phrase we must live our lives in gratitude. We must count our blessings and accept happily what we have been given.

And I’m not saying that’s bad advice. 

Heavens no. It’s important to exist in a state of gratitude. But can we truly achieve that end without the use of copious amounts of rationalization?

Oh well you wore stunning shoes all those years and all good things must end. At least they make so many adorable flats now. It doesn’t matter be grateful you had so many years with Jimmy Choo. What about girls who started with flat feet and could you show some gratitude here?

And we must. Because that is how we cover the disappointments we face, the losses we must accept and the pain of mistreatment by others.

My favorite is; it’s not your fault, people like that don’t know better, they’re pitiful, at least you’re not like them so pray they eventually realize what awful people they are. (But of course they never do.) 

Okay, sure, you’re right, they are awful and I should feel sorry for them, but when you’re someone’s victim isn’t it okay to feel bad for yourself?

I understand we need to rationalize. It’s the best way to get through it all.

My brother died recently. He had just sold his business, bought a home on a golf course and was finally at last able to succumb to his addiction for hitting that little ball across a fairway and have lots of time to play with his grandchildren.

But life had other plans. Life said screw you, I don’t think so.

And so we were forced to rationalize once more. At least he had so many years; he lived so well, yata yata yata.

It’s what we do to survive, to try and make sense of it all. The irony that life uses as its own little private parlor game.

Oh so you think you’ll retire and enjoy life, guess again.

Oh so you think you’ll be dancing in those shoes after you hike up Machu Pichu, au contraire, but check out these new old lady shoes, hot huh?

So you think that after struggling for years to achieve your goals and make it in business you got this covered.

Guess again, your new factory just burned to the ground before the insurance kicked in. Too bad but at least you weren’t inside the building right?

The sore toes are a foreshadowing of what life truly is. It’s an ironic series of disappointments, missteps and tragic moments we are forced to justify by rationalizing using the words at least. 

Someone once said the most powerful word in the English dictionary is “if”.

I would like to propose the two most powerful and important words are at least. For all rationalizations begin with those two little words.

At least we have humor to help get us through bad times, at least we have wonderful memories, at least he didn’t suffer, at least we can stay away from people who hurt us and at least we’re not them and the list is endless.

But so far no one has been able to use the words at least to stop the pain of losing those we love.

I guess we’ll have to do our best to keep going and rationalizing our way through life.

I’d love to continue this conversation but these new shoes are killing me and I have to go put on my slippers. At least they are comfortable.

May life be good for you and may you have few occasions to use the words at least.