Shoulding

Don’t should on yourself.

I should exercise more. I should eat better. I should sleep more. I should. I should. I should.

Someone told me “I should” write down a two column list.

Wants vs. Shoulds

I want a cookie. I should eat a salad.

I want a new pair of jeans. I should save my money.

I want to be thinner. I should go to the gym.

Sooooo…why am I doing this?

Why shouldn’t we should on ourselves?

The message that we are receiving is that we are judging ourselves. Do we like to feel judged? Not effective. Not helpful. Not self-compassionate.

We SHOULD LOVE ourselves.

 

 

Good Night

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Mr. Dylan Thomas I beg to differ today.

Sometimes soft words whisper “good night”.

Sometimes a gentle kiss releases a soul.

Sometimes waves crash against hot concrete sizzling into vapor.

Sometimes mist lifts embracing the dying light.

Sometimes frail deeds dance quietly into the dark night.

and…

sometimes there is no rage here.

Only love.

 

Sugar We’re Through! Maybe…

I started my day at the organic grocery store. They have the most beautiful self-serve salad bar on the planet. The shiny stainless steel is blinding. It’s a delight for the senses. There is not one piece of wilted lettuce in the bin, the carrots have a healthy deep orange hue, and the cucumbers are nestled in perfect rows.

Tossed all my greens into a plastic container and headed for the check out. I just can’t wait to go home to put all this green goodness in my body; I am the poster child for healthy living.

Heading home I stopped at CVS to get some mouthwash.

Oooo…jelly beans.

Sugar! No! What am I thinking?!? I’m going home to a salad! I can do this. I can walk away from these delightful little beans. Seriously, what harm will come from jelly beans? Ugh! I threw them in my basket.

Balance–it’s all about balance. 😉

 

 

 

 

“I am”…I said. SOL 2018

You can’t pour from an empty cup.

Her trapped toe tapped under the thick layers of sheets and blankets as the music started. With her eyes still closed, raspy sounds escaped weakly through her soft breath. No one would think she was singing. No one recognized the tune. No one could. The sound leaked out from her throat as if it was an old rusty pipe that no one bothered to turn off. Too old and a wrench would surely pop the fragile steel now nearly rusted throughout.

Ever since my mother made the decision to die on her own terms the days have been peaceful. Not full of sadness as one would expect. The day she demanded to end her torturous hospital stay was sad for us, her family. She thanked us–a lot. She reminded us of the bargain we made years ago–No wires, no tubes, or sitting in my own mess.  Done.

On an FMLA from my teaching position, my days are spent with her now and I love them. Her comfort is top priority. My mother loved her life. Music was always apart of it. So everyday I flip through her CD collection, and ask her, “What will we listen to today?” Tango? La La Land? Tito Puente? ABBA?

“How about a little Neil Diamond today Mom?” She threw her head back and mouthed, oh yes.

“I am” …I said.  The music poured out and filled the room and our hearts as we sang with Neil.

Fill the cup. Fill it with love. Fill it with lots of love.