Monthly Archives: February 2016

Just one more day – 54/366

What did I do to take advantage of this extra day this year?

Well, nothing. It isn’t as it there is an extra day and it isn’t a part of a calendar.

 

I might be nice, someday, to be gifted an extra day… randomly and without prior commitments. Do do as we pleased and with whom we pleased. And maybe I will put this in a story sometime, where we are gifted an extra day with someone we love.

 

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What a difference a “day, week, year, life” makes – 49/366

In whose life have I made a difference?

Shit.

I have no clue.

I don’t live my life to make a difference in anyone’s life but I do live with an assumption that I can contribute to making a difference.

Which can sound awful in one point of view, but that is now how I mean it.

I love volunteering and do enough of it that my husband complains.  I have served my community in a manner of which I am proud of, in a way that honors my interests, and which is based in service.

On a more personal level, I have tried  to mentor people who have wanted my presence in their life in that capacity and have learned as much from them as they have from me. I have mostly done this informally and in ways that honor those who mentored me.

lastly, my son. I do try to make a difference in his life.  In my brain, making a difference in the lives of your children, is just understood.

 

Security blanket – 48/366

What makes me feel secure?

Goodness gracious. This is a loaded question.

Let me start of by saying I am completely and totally insecure.

I also think this is true of most people on the planet.

I think some are much better at faking it than others.

I think I may be on the better at hiding it side of the continuum.

The interesting thing about feeling secure is that in most people’s heads the feeling of security usually is a social feeling. It involves someone helping you feel that way.  Go Google the images of security (and select or include feeling). The pictures usually include two people the one feeling insecure and the one providing the sense of security. It is kind of like the idea of comfort or comforting.

In part I think that one big factor in improvement is that of age. As I have gotten older, the things that would render me in tears, don’t seem to matter as much.

I find a tremendous sense of security in my family, those people who love me. The interesting note in this is that it is more about how much I love them. When my mother protected my aunt when I was recovering from cancer I learned that where my brain is completely and absolutely dependent on me.  Having to navigate that taught me a greater sense of self resiliency. I suppose that by this I mean that I am fully aware that I can navigate hardships without the ones I thought I could depend on. That is big. It is also rather empowering.

I also learned that trying to fill in our security (personal) gaps with gratitude can be counter-productive if not done will full intention.

Lastly, and probably most importantly, I learned that being gentle with others gives me security. Knowing that I can go out and love people for who they are, without judgement it a good place to be.

Please, know that this last piece is constantly a struggle, the idiot that called me out on a crazy (so crazy I thought people would understand it) comment I made on a friends Facebook post somehow escaped my attempt at being gentle.

However, this gentleman (I ended up calling him a paragon of tolerance) aside I have found that being gentle to people, that range from normal to the crazy, is comforting.

Three things – 47/366*

Three things I need to buy______

  • Something from my son’s fundraiser at school – general
  • Something from my son’s science camp fundraiser at school – p specific
  • Something for dinner

Is that cheating, separating out the two fundraisers?

I hate school fundraisers, hate them, hate them, hate them… I hate the chocolates and the restaurant go to’s. Mainly I hate them because of one toxic parent on the PTA (or is it PTO?).

*Just realized this is a leap year