6-14-11 3:16 pm Nancy Reagan had it Right

First Ladies impress me.  Period.  This high-profile, high-expectation position requires courage, stamina, diplomacy, and grace even in the most difficult of times.  And although I harbor plenty of difficult questions for Reagan-era politics, on this one thing, Nancy and I agree:  "No" harbors untold power.  

On the finer points, Mrs. Reagan and I may disagree. When it comes to drugs, and especially addiction, "no" involves a myriad of complications. Let's look at day-to-day life, though, for the non-narcotics-addicted, non-alcohol-addicted, functioning adult. Sometimes "no" feels elusive. Too tough to say. Socially awkward. And yet, it's that word, whether and whenever we say it or not, that ultimately defines who we are, and who we are not.

The power of "no" conquers all, sometimes even too much.   Ever witness the thrill with which a toddler throws her parents into a frenzy with that one little, two-letter word?   With a simple declaration of "no" by one half-pint-of-a-person, plans can be delayed, flights missed, restaurant meals brought to a screeching halt, and grocery carts abandoned mid-isle.  Prescription medicines can be left untaken, and that one little word can leave parents frazzled, in fits, and finally, at their wits-end.

What about adults?  Can we wield so much power?  Does adulthood somehow disempower the word "no"?  Not always.  Picture this:  It's the beginning of a new nutrition plan for you.  Maybe you're working on portion control.  You're at a friend's home, enjoying some delicious cooking, and because you feel safe in this loving environment, and  motivated about your new plan, you say it:  "No"  (OK, maybe "No thank you")  It's that first time you refuse seconds.  Feel the power.  There's a thrill all our own when we cease the power of "no" for ourselves.  We're on our way to getting what we want for ourselves.  We're exercising will-power.

In fact, it's avoiding that big-bad-word "no" that can really get us in trouble.  Many friends and acquaintances readily identify themselves as people having trouble saying "no".  When life overwhelms me, when I'm at my worst, my lowest, my most strung-out, I realize it:  I've needed to say "no" more.  Although it gets poor press, "no" can even help build relationships.

I enjoyed another 4-mile walk with my good friend "D" this morning.  I enjoy our great chats, the exercise, the fresh air, everything about it, yet walking early is hard.  I have to get up at a certain time.  It requires that I haul my petard onto the cruiser, and pedal to our meeting point, regardless of the brisk temperature.  And I want more.  I think she appreciates the exercise.  Yet, could getting up and out the door also challenge her?  We only do this together one day per week.  She does it a bit more often, however, and sometimes with other friends.  I'd like to challenge myself and see more of her.   So:  Do I ask her to join me on another day, or should  I keep my question to myself?  Maybe if I want to walk more, I should just...walk more!  How awful I'd feel if she felt she had to respond positively to my invitation.  Making my friend feel obligated to me is the last thing I'd ever want to do.  I want her to have a graceful out. I want her to have veto power she felt she could use.

So I asked.  And I was tentative.  "Look at your calendar.  You don't have to tell me now.  You might have another walk planned, which is cool!"  I shared several utterances of that variety, and low-and-behold, she took me up on it!  She said something about making sure she didn't have another walk scheduled.  Weird though it may seem, I was happier about my friend taking time to have her say, than I would have if she'd just said "yes".  That might have left me wondering:  Did she say "yes" because she could and wanted to, or did she feel obligated.  Her reserving her right to use veto power boosted my trust in our friendship.   

Veto power is everything.  I'm reading Coaching with the Brain in Mind, a book by Rock & Page.  In it, David Rock introduces a formula for change that's worked to support smokers to quit smoking, and adults suffering from O.C.D. to change their obsessive compulsive behaviors.  The formula is long, complicated, and empowering.  It holds great potential.  The crux of it, though, is an individual's leverage in choice-making using veto power.  The power to say "no" is the common denominator of change.

He cites some research that reports about 0.5 seconds between deciding to do something (like taking a drink) and actually doing it.   Even that short period of time involves smaller chunks.  There's the 0.3 second chunk of time it takes your brain to get your hand ready to pick up the glass.  The next 0.2 seconds are when the magic of veto power work.  If drinking is a habit, then says Rock, we have no control over will power.  Our brains involuntarily offer the idea of taking a drink at whatever interval is habitual.   It takes us about 0.3 seconds to recognize our brains involuntarily inviting us to do so.  We do have what he calls "won't power", and it works in the last 0.2 of the 0.5 seconds it takes us to detect and act on an impulse.  In that last 0.2 seconds, we have veto power to say, "Even though I could take a drink right now, I'm deciding not to".  It's the power we wield to change our minds. 

I'm so excited about veto power, I want to use it all the time.  And I want to offer it to my friends, family, everyone I know.  Can you see it?  Seminars on change based on veto power.  Jeannie Sponheim presenting.  Several dear friends recently listened my teaching them the whole change formula, centered on this veto power concept.  One of them, "J", used it recently, and proudly recounted her veto power over a cookie.  We celebrated, and I confessed my own struggle with the very same cookie tray.  Turns out, I'd used my veto power as well.  We celebrated more.  And not with cookies!

I think over all, the whole key to change is knowing where you are in the change process.  Veto power is a critical step, and so many other factors support it or corrode it.  A lot factors into whether or not we feel we own veto power.   All stages and phases of change are normal, even regression.  Remember the refusing of seconds?  Recall that exemplified the motivation we feel at the beginning of something new.  Why do we often go back to old, sometimes poor patterns of behavior?  Visit a gym or recreation center consistently from January to March.  Take a head-count.  Notice the decrease in population in just that first quarter of the year.  It's the change from "I'm excited and motivated about my New Year's resolutions", to "I just can't get to the gym today".   And it happens because we weren't fully prepared for the change.  We may be surrounded by smokers, so it's too hard to quit.  We may keep the same alcoholic friends, so it's too hard to change.  Ever visited with family and suddenly recognize that you're back in old patterns of unhealthy behaviors?  It's all about stages of change and identifying what we need to successfully make a change. 

Support helps.  The process of change needs normalization so that we accept where we are in the process, identify what we now need, and then feel empowered to take the next step.  How often do we decide to learn a skill, say driving, and turn around and perform that task?  Never!  Learning to drive involves steps, education, and practice.  Change, or learning a new behavior, involves a similar process.  Behavior changes can be the most challenging, involve more re-learing that predicted, and ultimately be the most rewarding.    It's veto power that lets us decide and show the world who we are.  Bottom line, we are all capable of change.  The question is, are we willing to seek the support we need to make it happen?

testing

Will this work?

7:00 pm Taming the Worry-Shrew

We have ultimate control over one thing: choice. I'm thinking of choices we make in response to things outside of our control. In my teacher world it's all about FTE: Full Time Emplyee status.

In fact, I imagin school hallways across the country are abuzz with similar discussions: Who's getting cut? Who's moving schools? Who's changing grades? Who's getting to keep their position? Principals face difficult choices.

I was walking through a room just today, and a staff member shot me a volley in this game of worry: "Are you getting cut?" It nearly knocked me off my feet. The suddenness of the question, so forward, so out there, and yet, so very close to my heart and soul. I chose to presume positive intent; this person cares for me, I know. And yet I forget my response. Stammering of some kind or other, I'm sure.

Industries all across our economy, and the world over, currently search for survival strategies during this difficult time. It's easy to throw up one's hands in futile dismay. After all, which one of us, by ourselves, could begin to think we have control over Wall Street?

It's tempting to let conditions seemingly outside of our control dictate our feelings. Right now is a fine time to be depressed. Of course! It's the economy! I'm in a bad mood - it's the economy! I'm losing my job and feel worthless - it's the economy!

And there's the ironic rub. We let something completely outside our control, completely take over the single most imporant area of our lives that we can control: Choice. I believe that when we choose with positive intetion, how we respond in any given situation, we hold the power to produce happiness in our lives.

Seemingly obvious choices can be the most toxic and ironic. High holidays, times we think we should all feel happy, can bring deep sadness for the lonely, or for individuals who've suffered a great loss at that time of year. Job loss? It can actually be a good thing. I want to keep my job, yes, however if I lose some employment, I will explore other options. Who knows what might happen? It could be that I discover another school, or another work environment entirely. Maybe I'll branch off into some other field. My Dad was laid off over 15 years ago, became a private contractor, and now every year netts more income than any year he was "employed".

My Dad's story may be unusual, however I've heard that contractors can do well in a down-turned economy because they end up being cheeper for employers than retaining staff. In the end, I think my Dad's success more reflected the choice he made: to do what he could with what he had.

He talks about faith, comparing how he feels between contracts to a chartoon character. In the cartoon a character walks along a falling, horizontal steel beam. The moment its foot looks like it's going to step out into thin air, another beam rises for him to cross. The character walks the length of that one, and again steps into thin air. And then another beam rises to catch him.

So in this difficult waiting time of questions, I think about choices. Intentionally waiting to respond in a proactive way feels empowering. Spending my time doing the best work I can is how I show my value as an employee. Deciding to live a healthful, balanced life shows I myself hold well-being in my own two hands. Taming the worry-shrew helps me vanquish the poisonous stress of worrying: Will I have a job next year?

In the school setting, FTE allotment feels like an earthquake to me. The shifts feel continental. And completely out of our control. And after the continental shift comes the aftershocks. I got my first licensed position in an aftershock. See, even when FTE is settled, staff can change their minds, choose something else, decide to move on. That's an aftershock. When it opens up a position, new opportunities open. So I'll take shelter in my classroom, at my desk, in meetings, doing the best I can with what I have, and taking the news as it comes.

4-27-11 5:08 pm I Think I Can...

I think I can leave work on-time. (I did it today and spent more time with Anne.)

I think I can ask for help. (I did it today and it left more time for other tasks.)

I think I can hold others responsible for their actions. (I did it today and felt...lighter!)

I think I can seek out business services to help me. (I did it today and anticipate responses.)

I think I can relax after work. (I did it today and my headache is trickling away.)

I think I can share my woes. (I did it today and caring people at work rallied around me.)

I think I can receive kindness. (I did it today and feel like I have a friend!)

I think I can have faith in my actions. (I did today and spoke of a discipline response, several times, without anxiety.)

I think I can take care of myself. I just need to remember how, and remind myself to do it.

4-19-11 6:55 pm Angerlust

Merriam-Webster on-line says "wanderlust" means a "strong longing for or impulse toward wandering", as in: "Wanderlust ... led him to explore many different parts of the world." The impression in my mind is one of delving deeper. A person full of wanderlust might have explored the depths of the Grand Canyon, the heights of Mount Everest, and the far reaches of Continental shores. Some sort of nebulous yet intrinsic value seems to attach itself to the concept of exploration. Angerlust, then, might mean a "strong longing for or impulse toward anger", as in: "Angerlust has led him to explore many different parts of ... himself." When we include the word "explore" in the definition of "angerlust", does it make the emotion any more attractive?

I can see it now: travel agencies designing ad campaigns touting how much anger this or that destination incites. People could start waking up, planning for events in their day to make them angry. In place of "take a walk in the park" on my daily calendar might appear "get really ticked off!". About what, I don't know. Might have to plan for that one.

Maintaining positive attitudes throughout daily life includes smiles, yes, yet it also includes tears, frustration, and of course, anger. I see nothing wrong with anger. Difficult emotion though it is, it's not necessarily a negative one. Feeling bad about anger is negative. Anger can lead to powerful self-discoveries. A little anger (or a lot) teaches such powerful lessons, it's likely worth the pain of the emotion. Can anger teach us so much that it's worth feeling good about, or even embracing?

Which Greek philosopher said that "knowledge is power"? According to wikipedia, that quote is attributed to multiple scholars. Regardless of its origin, there's truth in the power of self-knowledge.

Most recently for me was a rather gargantuan bought of anger that stirred up the realization that I need to have say. Losing the feeling of having appropriate influence in life situations leaves me feeling powerless, helpless, and at the mercy of others regardless of the outcome. It makes me feel abandoned, even if I'm the one doing the abandoning. (I have abandonment issues.)

Example: last week Anne asked to have a sleep-over. Honestly, sleep-overs are low on my list of favorites when it comes to Anne's time with friends. They go to sleep late, get up early, and require vigilant supervision. It's the marathon of parenting for me. We're better-equipped to deal with these events than in years past, mostly due to experience. Still, I'd rather take a bunch of girls to the park for the afternoon than have a slumber party. I'd rather go to the dentist than invite children over for a sleep-over. Yes, even doing our taxes has more appeal than those late-night slumber parties.

None-the-less, sleep-overs seem to be a part of growing up in America. Who am I to nay-say them? I can, however, put some parameters in place. I tried, all-be-it unsuccessfully, last weekend. "Yes" I responded to the sleep-over request, "as long as you girls come up with a plan."

See, I plan for fun, engaging activities for children all day, every day, at work. What a privilege. During the weekends, however, a break from this seems in order. The remainder of the week came and went; the girls remained planless. Friday afternoon brought an expectant daughter to my desk, accompanied by voice mails from parents trying to make a plan for their families' Friday evenings. So, I complied, and begrudgingly brought home three children, planless though they remained.

The next morning, bright and early, Harold headed out with the children. They went out to breakfast, swimming at the local recreation center, bowling, and out to lunch. My planning. Again. Success strategy for me: stay at home. Yes, it was expensive, and yes, I'm indebted to my husband for his generosity with time and money. And yes, I went through my own personal hell trying to figure out why I felt livid the whole time.

I'd needed more say. Looking back, I could have made many modifications to the over-night plan, seeing that the girls failed to hold up their end of the deal. Ignoring the leverage I possessed left me feeling like I had nowhere to turn. And it made me super-mad.

At 40 years-of-age, I need to be self-reliant. As a parent, I need to be in control. As an adult, I need to take responsibility for myself, and hold others accountable when and where appropriate. If I don't, who will? This revelation gives me a giant dose of power. Good power. "I'm in charge of my life and my destiny" kinda power.

It's so wonderful, I'm considering what other yet-to-be discovered or rediscovered revelations might lurk deep within my subconscious. It might even be worth...getting really mad about something just to find out.

4-3-11 4:23 pm The Boomerang Effect

OK, it's possible I work too hard. This spring break I painted four rooms in our house, rearranged furniture and knick-knacks (yes, Mom, a few decorative items now grace various flat surfaces in our abode), and repaired a lot of stuff. In a 100 year-old house, needed repairs are easy to come by. They also happen to be easy to carry out since the original stuff was crafted using solid, real materials. I digress. Surprise, all that work's left me in rather a funk. On the other hand, the time was available. Carpe diem. This entry, however, is about what happened next. As interesting and involved as all those projects became, they definitely played the supporting role to a deeper tale of universal goodness. In the end, what impressed me the most was the kindness of strangers. So all week I've balanced between acting civil, and completing gargantuan amounts of work. It was tricky to say the least. Smiling, leaving the "b" word out of my vocabulary, all that positivity stuff sat on the back burner while I relocated garden beds, prepared soil, and planted seeds while the paint dried in bedroom number two. And yet, every single sales person, wait person, customer service clerk, heck, even my own family members who've hopefully suffered only a little with all this work, showed kindness beyond my expectations. Ever walk into your local mega-hardware warehouse, ask for something, and then at the promise of "let me find someone who can help" realize, you're watching the back of "assistance" as it walks away from you, never to return? Ever felt left in the black hole of ignorance? It never happened. All week I was met with either help or fulfilled promises of assistance. I'd go to the register and chance upon the first sales clerk I'd queried upon entering, only to be met with: "Was anyone able to help you find those clematis seeds you wanted?" In fact, help had come, the seeds were not in yet, and I'd found some other must-have's in the mean time. We visited a smaller hardware store yesterday, and the staff fell all over us with kindness. I actually momentarily flattered myself with the delusion that one of the young men working that day was flirting with me. Then it came out in our conversation that he was from the mid-west. He was just being his super-nice self. Harold agrees. Anne was helpful. She wanted to paint with me, and did when she could. When she couldn't, she diligently practiced her instruments or read. She claimed to appreciate the unlimited reading time. I certainly appreciated the work time. Harold complimented my work. He worried over me. He urged me to slow down. And then he'd thank me for all I'd done. He cooked dinner. I left my purse at a restaurant. They called my friends and family members from my cell phone before I even missed it. In what universe does that happen? Of course nothing was missing from my belongings. The next time we visited (OK, they do chocolate, and we're having a hard time staying away), our waiter recognized both me and my purse. Same guy. Same purse. Same very excellent chocolate. Ahhh. And friends got together for lunch. They celebrated my birthday. It turns out thoughtful messages in fun cards and a yummy carrot cake make me feel loved and cared for. And my daffodils bloomed. The week held its challenges. And more are yet to come. The kindnesses I experienced made up for them, will continue to make up for them, and then some. All this good energy feels like it's about more than a parsimonious universe paying me back for my lately efforts at positivity. At the risk of sounding ego-centric, I'm gonna go ahead and say that it may have had something to do with my willingness, in fact my hopefulness, to see it. I think we find what we hope for. We see what we expect. It's all about self-fulfilling prophesies, because perception is everything. Take everything for what you hope it will be, for what you hope is intended, and your wishes come to pass. It's like a perpetual prayer which keeps getting answered. Kindness has renewed my faith in the world, and with faith I go out again, looking for kindness in turn. I'm thinking I'll find it.

3-23-11 7:00 pm White Lies Must Die

I told one last night, and knew it the whole time. My lovely book groupies asked about the layout of our nearly 100 year-old house where I hosted the evening. They heard gleeful descriptions of walk-through closets, a large basement, and my daughter's huge bedroom closet. I boasted that it was half the size of my living room. Anne openly corrected me when she entered the conversation later that fateful night.

Everything else I'd said was true. The building was erected in 1919. You can actually get from the dining room to our bedroom via a closet. The basement was dug out some decades ago, and is nearly full-sized. Why did I lie about the size of Anne's closet? What purpose did it serve? Instead of making me feel some form of good, my heart started a relentless and rapid pounding.

It's all about doubt. In the brief moment between thought and words, I worried my lovely guests might not get just how large Anne's closet really is. Actually, it's about a quarter the size of our living room, which is still unusually large. Anyway, I think my white lie was a preemptive attempt to positively impact their perception, which I pre-supposed to be inaccurate. I thought they wouldn't believe me, based on their own experience or misperception that all old houses have tiny closets.

Had I chosen bravery, faith, or good will, I'd have said something like: "...And this is really unusual: Anne's closet measures something like 4' x 8'. Isn't that large for an old house? We're thinking of converting it to a half-bath." Instead I exaggerated. My friends are LDS, so I'm sure they picked up on my lie before I even uttered it.

The larger lesson for me: practice faith. Faith in myself for being able to find the right words to convey complete and utter truth, and faith in others for being capable of really hearing it. If I'm going to live 100% positively, the white lies must die. Part of being positive means building trust, and lies, regardless of their size, erode trust. Plus, they're unnecessary.

Telling the truth requires thought and articulation. I think I believe that speaking 100% truthfully provides an opportunity to become smarter. Ponder these tools for honesty:

• think before speaking
• use the right words
• listen
• say what's meant
• mean what's said

If I do those things, they have to make me smarter, because they will require me to think before I spout off. Maybe I tell white lies out of haste more than lack of trust. Maybe it's a healthy dose of both. In the end, maybe the "why" of it matters little.

This new goal requires planning. I wonder, if my conversation pace slows in order to think about and plan for what I say to be truthful, whether folks will be patient enough to listen. Maybe if I speak only the truth, they'll be eager enough to hear my words that they'll wait for them. Maybe it'll start a trend. How might life change if we all killed white lies with the patience and correct wording that honest communication requires?

3-18-11 9:28 pm A Gift...

It was definitely him, looking more dapper than ever. My Grandpa had a close-cut beard, white of course. In life he kept his face clean-shaven. His shirt was a button-down white Oxford with narrow, dark blue stripes set wide apart, underneath a burgundy v-neck sweater. While he was living, I remember him wearing calm tones that complimented rather than contrasted. He may or may not have had his cane with him in my dream, yet he needed it to walk and steady his balance in his living, breathing days.

Anyway, when he hugged me in greeting, he patted my lower back. I don't know; there's this way he has of pressing the lower back that reassures the hugee it's him. With Grandpa, you were always the hugee. He seemed reassuring that way. And he always did that lower-back press. I feel certain the action was intentional on his part, his signature gesture, if you will.

He was intentional about everything. He even had a breakfast schedule: on a certain day oatmeal, on another fried eggs and bacon. He used to say it was one thing over which he had control in life, so why not take advantage? He'd shrug in a boyish way, and laugh off-handed, feigning boyish innocence in his conquest over the unpredictable. I always secretly guessed that the whole thing was funny until someone really tried to mess with his meal schedule. To my knowledge, no one ever did.

I digress. His coming to me last night, in my dream, it felt like one last greeting, with the whole family there, and it really felt like the real thing. Grandma was smiling in her black patent-leather pumps, pleased as ever to be together looking like one big happy family. My mother stood to the side, smiling, arms crossed, approving. Harold and Anne were somewhere in the room, maybe behind me. And before our visitors, Mom and Grandma, entered through the back door, I remember dreading: this will be the first time I greet my Grandma as a widow. It was a dreadful thought, which made my heart pound and threatened uncriable tears in front of visiting family members who most certainly would be put over their respective edges of barely holding it together for their own grief if they saw me break down.

Jews know how to mourn. The wailing wall gives them cart blanch to cry their hearts out. Even when they're here in America, they own that magnificent tribute to loss, in their history. Catholics somehow presume composure at the most dreadful times. I'm mad he's gone. I miss him terribly. The world is less without him.

And I know it was him, who came to me in my dreams last night, and gave me that one last comfortable family greeting; we could all be there, together, in my night visions. I cherish that memory; I feel literally touched by him. He came through, once again. Grandpa was nothing if not predictably reliable. I love him so much, and it's dreadfully sad he's gone. Thank you, Grandpa.

Thanks for standing up when you hugged me good night, while all the other grown-ups would stay sitting on the couch, unmoving. Thank you for giving me confidence in my taste in clothes, and my choice of diet. Thank you for teaching my daughter how to play tic-tac-toe with even more complexity. Thank you for making tough moments light-hearted. Thank you for taking me to the park when I was little. It's one memory I've lost, which tells me those were carefree moments. Thanks for those. Thanks for standing when I came into the room. Thanks for tipping your hat. Thanks for teaching me how to think about someone else's perspective. I'm still working on that one. Thanks for being so affirming to me. I love you. Thanks for coming to me when I needed you last night, in my dreams. Thanks for still being there for me when I need you.

3-15-11 4:54 pm On the Plus-Side or, Today in My World

Admittedly, a persistent cloud took residence over me a week or so ago. Intentional positive energy slowly moves it, in small increments. Today, my mojo for moving it even further from my heart feels like gratitude. Again.

Today in my world the sun rose. My car started. I'm employed. My students came to me eager for attention and learning. My husband showed me care. My daughter showed signs of health, both mental and physical. I made intentional decisions about how to spend my time. Food availed itself to me, enough to feel healthfully nourished. My house stood on solid ground. My loved ones seemed safe. I practiced yoga. I got the laundry started. Dinner seems doable. Things look pretty good from where I stand.

And with that, my heart feels still a little lighter. Potential for change feels almost more gratifying than my elevated state of mind. It gives me hope.

3-9-11 7:06 pm Latitude, Gratitude, Attitude

Today is my Thanksgiving.

Thank you "J" for helping me steer my life in the direction I want to take it.
Thank you "K" for the free haircut (bangs cut, whatever).
Thank you Anne for just your being you.
Thank you 5th grade leopards for welcoming my presence in your lives and in your learning.
Thank you entire Leopard staff for working with me and including me in your thinking.
Thank you Harold for being a best friend and a spouse all at the same time.
Thank you "D" for keeping my birthday plans on the front burner.
Thank you folks, for trying to be there for me, even though I'm almost 40.
Thank you world for keeping enough natural disasters at bay so that I may live to see another day.

3-7-11 5:18 pm Anger as Data

I think anger gets a bad rap. "Anger - just one letter away from 'danger'". - author unknown. The very premise of my blog might suggest that anger is, well, bad. I mean, who wants to read a blog called "Angrily Boggin'"? In fact, spending most of my time attempting to foster the positive further supports an assumption that I think ill of anger.

On the contrary, I find anger to be a most useful emotion. Ok, in an ideal world I might pay more attention to joy than to anger. In fact, it's balancing that very scale that inspires me to focus on fostering the positive, and write this blog. Yet it would be a gross oversight to, say, ignor this informative emotion.

Anger, thankfully, demands attention. What if Abraham Lincoln thought thought our union should be divided into North and South? What if the "anti" was left off and we just had "bellum"? Might we still have slaves? What if Rosa Parks hadn't gotten fed up with segragation? Would my best childhood friend, Dion, be relegated to the back of her bus for the rest of her life due to her black coffee skin color? What if a physically abused person continued to take beatings rather than get fed up and act? Anger tells us something we need to pay attention to, and hopefully inspires us to act effectively. In cases of domestic violence the victims can spend so much time justifying the behavior, they forget to protect themselves.

Human brains look for patterns. Victims sometimes opt for predictability over safety. And what about happiness? We may pay less attention to joy than to anger because we enjoy joy. Our brains simply assume the happiness will repeat itself without making further efforts. Conversely, when our brains acknowledge anger, defeat, dissappointment, or any other negative emotion, brains assume they will repeat themselves as well, and go into fight or flight mode.

So: hubby has flowers delivered, and wife tells all her co-workers, joyfully, about it. She may entirely forget to thank him later. Hubby leaves dirty dishes in the sink, and wife notices them just as she's about to cook dinner. She lays into him when he arrives home from work about his lack of respect and responsibility, and flatly refuses to cook.

Noticing our emotions, and intentionally planning for their repeat or ceassation might positively impact our day-to-day life experiences. Had wife gushed over flowers to hubby, it might encourage him to repeat the act. Being intentional is different than manipulating. Harold now looks so pleased with himself when he comes in with my coffee. It happens maybe every other week, and sure, I'd love it to happen more. The fact is, that he knows I like it because I tell him so and he intentionally makes it happen.

Had wife, instead of laying into hubby about the dishes when he walked in the door, asked him to take her out to dinner because the sink was too full to cook, he could have recieved the same information with an entirely different outcome. They'd both get fed, she'd feel respected, and he would understand his leaving dirty dishes in the sink makes some else's life harder.

When we take time to notice what we want to avoid, and plan from an intentionally positive perspective, we stand to come out happier. Intentionally perpetuating that which we enjoy produces the same outcome. We get more of what we want, and we have our own intentionality to thank for it, at least in part.

At 11, Anne just begins showing the signs of hormonal stress. Last week it was the Girl Scout Cookie Saga. I'd let her place our order, and when the cookies came, she had some. Then she let the boxes sit on my desk for over a week. When a meeting came up, I grabbed the left-over boxes as an offering. When she saw they were gone, she lost it. Ok, I accept some blame, and have replaced the lost loot. However, her responses these days definately reveal an added dimension of poiniency.

What to do? So unpredictable! She's a mystery to herself; how could we begin to understand or anticipate her needs and responses when she herself is learning? And I predict, based on personal experience, she's in for many years of dealing with hormones and intense emotions. How best to parent in these unpredictable waters?

Here's our plan: Notice, notice, notice. You're angry? So how does your body feel? You're stressed out? What is your body doing to tell you that? You're worried? What do you notice going on for you physically right now?

I know full well that telling her what to do will only piss her off. And I could be wrong about whatever solutions I invent. Ultimately I want her to know herself. Know what she needs, understand how to meet those needs, and in the end, feel capable of, and intentional about, caring for herself. It seems to be working for me, and it's my best hope for her at least for now.

3-3-11 6:00 pm Have You Noticed?

Maybe I'm stubborn, after all, the Northeastern Cougar is extinct. Perhaps it's plain pig-headedness, after all, our state budget constraints for next year just might asphyxiate our childrens' education. It could be flagrant disregard for reality, after all, I did receive a complaint call today. Whatever it you label it, I just feel unequivocally, the only and best option is to celebrate.

In spite of the Earth's magnetic polarity changing by 40 degrees to the ... east?..., regardless of our economic woes, and aside from crashing housing and job markets, what about the rest of life? What about balance? What happens without it?

So: the sunrise these last few mornings has been very colorful. Have you noticed? The weather's been fair this week. How does it feel to finally thaw out? Have you seen the larger numbers of people getting around on foot or by bicycle? It makes me think hopeful thoughts about the longevity of our eco-systems.

Whatever good I can find, it feels like a compelling entity. Its very existence must be savored, examined, and remembered. Since any of it exists at all in these seemingly desperate times, every joy deserves attention.

It's also the little things: Anne, hormonal, emotional, and perpetually hungry, has been unusually cuddly this week. Harold's been making the bed. I'm getting more organized about my time lately. Work seems to be going well.

Hard times come with life. These times are tough, and yet, we've had tougher, colder, and more hateful events in history: the Holocaust, the Great Depression, the Civil War, plagues, the Ice Age, etc.

"This too shall pass". "That which doesn't kill us will make us stronger". "Look on the bright side". "Every cloud has a silver lining". In times of struggle these cliches can seem shallow. And yet I wonder: What might happen if we ignore the message each of them carries?

The rougher the times, I say, the greater truth those time-honored phrases carry. We need smiles, we need optimism, we need hope. That's my mission today, to notice things which inspire hope.

2-26-11 7:40 pm "I think I can..."

I think I can lead a balanced life. I think I can fulfil my role as wife, mother, daughter, sister, professional, and responsible adult. I think I can live my dreams, and I need to let them lead me.

It feels easier getting caught up in the minutia of life than keeping the big picture in perspective. Easier to do the dishes than to think about how to get to school on foot tomorrow. Easier to worry about folding clothes than planning my next professional seminar. Easier to write than to investigate possible periodicals in which to try getting something published. The big picture is like the conductor or composer of life, and the little details the instrument sections. Everyone has a part, and must be ready to be called upon at the right time. Some measures in life are simply easier to repeat than others.

So, I ask myself, what measures am I repeating in the music of my life, and which might I be avoiding or putting off? Whatever they are, the sound track of my journey will be much more beautiful when they all join the piece. Maybe it's simply time to listen and see what else I want to hear.

2-22-11 7:03 pm Intentions

A few very lucky people in the world posess the power to say only encouraging things. For the others of us, we're caught up in our own worlds, and inadvertently say things that others take the wrong way: personally. I know or have known a few of those lucky people who bring only positive energy to the world.

My long deceased mother-in-law, a person of impecable manners, somehow managed to help those around her feel at ease. For example: Upon seeing me for the first time after her son and I reconciled following a three-year separation, she greated me with "Well, hello there. You're looking thinner these days." I'd gained a solid ten pounds. The truth at the time mattered less to me than the spirit behind her words. Maybe she meant I looked "healthier", maybe she really thought I looked thinner. Or maybe she intentionally said something she thought would put me at ease. Whatever her plan, despite my having broken things off with her son, being estranged for three years, and then descending on her hospitality, she rose to the occasion, managed to make me feel good, and in the process elevated all our intentions and spirits.

A dear teacher friend of mine is another of these very fortunate kind souls. While I do think we have a special connection, she's nice to everyone! She just disarms those around her. How does she do it?

I can act kindly, smile, say things positively, but it takes more than that. I'm an interrupter. And I develop an edge in my voice when I feel frustrated, or I talk too fast, or worst-case scenario, say things I don't mean. What I want is to be one of those gentle souls that only help make others feel good, comfortable, and at ease. I want to possess better control over my responses.

The other side of that coin is wanting everyone else to be as nice to me as those few very special souls I've known before. In actuality, people sometimes do and say things that, whether or not intended, hurt my feelings or cause me to doubt myself. What I want is to feel entirely loved, safe, and to keep others' words and actions in perspective.

"The Golden Rule". It's a tall order. Anything's possible though, and this one seems under my control. Treat others as you'd like to be treated.

So here's my self-proscribed behavior plan for the week:

1. Assue positive intent.
2. Let others' finish before speaking.
3. Paraphrase before adding in my own thinking/question
4. Be clear.
5. Breathe.
6. Use the restroom before it becomes an emergency.
7. Remember and act on "The Golden Rule".

Here's hoping!

2-21-11 8:10 Darkness, Lent, and Spirits

Lent feels like one of my most difficult times of year. As the dark colors of my winter wardrobe bring me down, so does the dirgy music at church, and seeming intent of the season, to deeply reflect, give up, and in general, sacrifice.

So, I'm taking action! I've folded and put away all the black in my wardrobe (along with other dull winter colors: navy blue, merlot red, and deep forest green). As for lent, we'll adjust our church schedule so that we attend on Saturday nights as much as possible (shorter service, less dirge).

As for the rest, this season feels ripe for a good spring cleaning. Time to renew, restore, refurbish, and repurpose things. Put a new face on each room. Cleaner, brighter, calmer. I want to invite more positive energy into my life, so we'll make room for it. That feels better already!

2-20-11 4:55 pm Choices

I'm outta the woods today...hopefully. Yes with the smiling, yes with the positive framing language, and yes with the "ands" over the "buts". Yet today some additional, spontaneous element felt present. I just felt happy, without even trying.

Sitting at lunch today, Anne and I found something to giggle about as we played tic-tac-toe, Harold looked relaxed, and the food and wine mixed beautifully. In that moment I observed myself: relaxed, mind in the present, agenda-free. And in the next nanno-second, it came to me: I can choose to feel this way, any time I want! The power to determine my feelings, my responses, rests entirely with one entity. Myself.

Usually on my list of things to worry about during a meal: How does Anne look, sound, and feel? Is she happy? Carefree? What needs might Harold have right now? What unfinished work needs follow-up at school (huge mental list here) and at home? What foods do I feel comfortable eating freely, and which to watch during this meal? What social obligations need my attention? Friends? Is our waiter helpful? If not, what information might he or she need to become more helpful? Etc.

Who knows what paused all those worries for me earlier today? The more exciting bit, realizing I know how to locate it when joy eludes me. It's right there, in the moment. That brings me back to an earlier learning: negativity is self-perpetuating, while positivity requires intentional nurturing. The payoff for that intentional nurturing? Long-lasting PNA's (positive neural associations, whose effects endure for days).

The up-shot: intentionally deciding to think about less, live in the present, and find joy in the little things boosts my ability to find and enjoy positive experiences. I genuinely feel happier today. And if tomorrow feels overwhelming, happy-strategies to the rescue!

1. It's OK to say: "I need to give that some thought" instead of responding immediately with commitment one way or the other.
2. Acknowledge over what things I own control, and what ownership rests with others.
3. Keep it simple; use less effort for accomplishing tasks.
4. Smile, think happy thoughts, assume positive intent of others, and wait ... joy emerges.
5. Simply decide to think about less: make lists, prioritize, and then, let it go.
6. Notice the little things, and share them.
7. Make sure my basic needs get met (like sleep, eating, and finding time for the restroom).

Maybe happiness lives at the ready, we just forget how to clean the other nuisances from blocking our view.

2-19-11 9:02 pm Barely Ok

What's the deal? I smile, think positive thoughts, use positive language, look for more ways to feel, act, and be more positive, and then even smile some more. Lots of the time this works some sort of invisible magic, and I feel like I'm floating in an impermeable bubble of good will and happy good fortune.

This weekend feels different. Yesterday a palpable funk permeated the consciousness of Anne and Harold. They both gently and persistently asked "Are you OK?" "Do you need anything?" What did I do to deserve these loving people to call my family? Today feels slightly better, only slightly. I actually did my hair and makeup, contributed fun ideas for today's activities, and practiced some songs I'm singing for a worship service tomorrow. Evidence points to improvement. My smile looks upside down, just the same, and I find myself feeling ... barely OK.

Maybe I let work create a little imbalance, certainly possible as I love what I do and the people with whom I'm privileged to engage every day. There must be more to it. Maybe it's OK, to just feel OK. So much of the time I'm either witnessing the miracle of learning, supporting someone deeply invested in their work, getting exercise, deepening my personal relationships, shopping, cleaning, cooking something delicious, accomplishing, accomplishing, accomplishing. Perhaps the continual high of joyful giving and productive living has me feeling a bit melancholy. The struggle for me: it feels like there's a little less to get excited about.

Facts: we have a roof over our heads, food in the fridge, our health, heat, love, and jobs...for now. So much for which to feel grateful. On one hand, it may simply be the right time to appreciate those tremendous privileges. On the other, I think, maybe barely OK is pretty darn good, for a low.

2-13-11 Impulse

How it drives us, impulse. Impulse to buy, eat, appear a certain way - funny, savvy, all-knowing, to look important, valuable, indispensable. And pursuing these ends then becomes its own journey. How else do we lose ourselves, lose focus, misplace our values, and misrepresent ourselves? This kind of cognitive activity lands the lucky among us in therapy, those of us lucky enough to realize we need help and know where to find it.

Trite example:

"Hi! How are you?"

"Great, and you?

"Great! (pause) Well, I don't know why I said that, lately I feel so stressed out about..."

And that pause, magical, perspective-yielding pause, grants a moment of reflection in which we get a chance to let truth bubble to the surface.

Think of icons of wisdom and kindness in recorded history: Mother Theresa, Einstein, Newton, Gandhi, The Dali Lama. These individuals live(d) their lives, purposefully, intentionally, deliberately. They were (are) known for thoughtfulness rather than rashness. Quick-witted humor they left to others.

So why rush? Why try to appear a certain way? How about just being, and letting our true nature rise to the surface? How about living more genuinely?

This weekend I seemed to need to think about a lot of things: when to go to that new yoga class? where to find time to get to the rec. center? fitting in writing. which church service seems to fit into our hectic schedule? doing the bills. spending time with Anne. should I send Valentine's cards to my family? what planning remains for the coming week at school?

And I worked some long hours this week. My husband needed us to spend some quality time together. He'd pressed gently for it over the last 36 hours. I felt angry with myself for failing to yield. Failing to look him in the eye and listen to his thoughts and wonderings without distraction. New in this scenario, (our relationship is familiar with this state of mind of mine) seemed my ability to react by waiting. I waited and waited, cognizant of my distraction, and not reacting. What a feeling of control to avoid letting impulse dictate my responses (an allowance that usually lands us in a disagreement).

And then something magical happened: Harold asked what I was thinking about, what I needed. It all poured out. My worry about schedules, new ideas, concern for whether we're parenting well, money. I took advantage of his invitation and shoveled the snow storm of thoughts out of my inner thinking circle, and onto the front yard of our relationship. All my concerns suddenly shared, I felt room to just be with him. I looked into his eyes, and his smile and sigh of relief showed he felt the connection he needed.

That moment of sharing brought us a connection that put us on the same page. Now we are ready to face our day. Together in body and in mind.

2-10-11 6:30 pm Dinner & 3 Year-Old Logic

A friend shared her three-year-old with us for this afternoon. Oh those little tiny fingers, that small voice, and those itty-bitty teeth in that unrestrained smile. I remember when Anne was that size. And the hilarity of our now 11 year-old trying to expand our little friend's vocabulary with words like "pentagonal" required great restraint from laughter on my part.

Watching today's Anne, juxtaposed to the memories brought back by our little friend, forced into stark relief memories of my mommy-mind-set eight of years ago. "Edgy" describes it pretty accurately. At the time I also taught part time in the evenings at a local community college. That sanity break barely met my social needs, and I appreciated it mightily. Raising small children requires so much of caregivers.

We fed our little friend typical pre-schooler fare: dry cereal, fruit, water, and hot chocolate (it's pretty cold these days). She played, danced, sang, and listened to stories. Kids learn to lie pretty early, and she tried so hard to be polite. Her hesitant smile at the hot chocolate gave her away. Of course it tasted different; made from chocolate almond milk it bore little resemblance to the "real thing".

She also showed the kind of shrewd judgement and clear logical thinking that, when it came from my daughter eight years ago, sent me over the edge. You see: After making tonight's mac & cheese, and wondering if our new little friend would notice that I'd used coconut milk rather than the regular variety, I offered her a bite. It turned out that she loved it. In fact, she wanted more. Dinner preparations, however, needed another ten minutes. And she continued to press: "I want some more 'yummie in my tummy!'" To which I kindly redirected her to the remaining dry cereal and orange slices on her plate from snack, until dinner, "soon." Looking directly at me, she picked up her plate and "accidentally" dumped half the cereal on the floor. Closer to getting rid of the rest of her snack, clearly!

Anne served time in "time-out" for far less serious or intentional infractions. Sometimes accompanied by a frustrated response from me, and at my better moments simply escorted by even emotion, she dutifully took her consequences. My response earlier this evening brings relief and smiling. Our little friend's overt attempt forced me to stifle a large guffaw. After a moment of composing myself, I simply noted that the spilled cereal would also need to be removed to the trash before dinner. Her hopes dashed, my priorities and dignity all entirely intact.

And then I got to thinking about positivity. Much as I wish to attribute tonight's presence of mind to my recent endeavors at thinking and acting in positive ways, so much of my restraint came from perspective. Time gives perspective, and another person's child lends itself to patience. It felt easier to take Anne's shenanigans personally. This little friend of ours today simply needed to test the waters. Rather than frustration, I felt reassured at her logical thinking skills, which brings me back to positive thinking.

Sometimes, in order to find the positive in a questionable situation, I need time. "Dire situations" resolve themselves, eventually. And invariably, whatever hullabaloo they caused in the process creates little in the way of actual help. "Time heals all wounds". Why fetter ourselves with superfluous angst in the process? And when I hurt in the past, hurling myself into a whirlwind of pain and reaction came all to easily. Maybe age gives me more patience. Or, and I rather suspect this as the root of my new-found composure, I just want to feel good. And when that "good" feeling eludes me, I simply feel willing to wait.

2-9-11 8:34 pm Musings on Intent and Options

Keeping positive requires intent. Intent to smile, intent to look on the bright side, intent to assume the best of others, intent to put positive energy into the world. Today it feels like work, and as I reflect on that, it occurs to me that worse days live in my memory.

While I suspected today that opportunities to get down on myself lurked in the nether regions of my thoughts, to doubt others and question their intentions, it seemed OK to take a "wait-and-see" attitude. Impending pressure remained in the back seat. Taking it slowly made the difference. I felt room for multiple perspectives, including a few positive ones. Positive perspectives seem to produce options, and as long as they exist, I feel capable of wearing a smile. Smiles tend to inspire others to smile back. As long as people smile at me, things just feel brighter in general.

2-8-11 5:40 pm Perspective

She cried every morning before first grade school days: "Mom, tell me what I have to look forward to today!"

It broke my heart. This from the former kindergartener who at the time attested that school days made her dessert, and the weekends compared to spinach, in her cullinary analogy. I, the educator, me, the homeroom-parent, hung on her every word.

Never mind that school now took six rather than three hours to complete. Never mind that her word completely overshadowed her teacher's account. Regardless of her potential misperceptions, I took her word at face value, and then ran with it.

We made phone calls to our own classroom-teacher relatives, sent emails to our principal, arranged before and after-school meetings, even enlisted the help of our pastor. And then the truth came out: "I think I'm just having a hard time adjusting to first grade."

Up to that point though, I felt ready to yank her out of that classroom fast enough to make your head spin. I felt my child possessed the right to feel important, enriched, and experience smooth sailing all the school-days of her life. And, in some small place inside, I suspected in my reaction lay some over-board quality.

What to do? Talk to her teacher again. Give it time. Assume positive intent. Assume her teacher loved her. And she did. On our last meeting, (the one in which we planned to insisto on a class transfer) poor Jill sitting across the table feeling accused of treating our daughter indifferently, declaired: "I love Anne. She's one of my best students."

And in that moment, we connected. Mama Bear retreated a step or two. I realized, listening to the nervous waver in Jill's voice that a forest owl watched over our precious child every day, and decided that that seemed good enough for me. I knew it felt best for Anne. She needed socialization, especially comming from an only-child house-hold. She needed the model of her teacher, a successful woman who did things slightly differently than her parents. She needed to know that she possessed the capability to make it through her day, all on her own.

It's just that they're so small. Later that same year Anne fell from an eight-foot rung on the playground jungle-gym, breaking her tailbone. The fall knocked the air out of her lungs. She got sand in places neither of us knew she had. She looked so tiny lying there, helpless in the sand. And yet she weighed too much for me to carry.

After a few minutes, she managed to get up and walk to the nurse, on her own two feet. Sure I took her to urgent care. Yes, I came to school every two hours for the following six weeks to stuff an ice pack down between her underpants and jeans, a routine she to this day sutters to remember. And yes, she made it through first grade. Jill and I continued to connect and began to embrace the joint-custody relationship we shared over Anne's education.

It feels like joint custody to me. The relationship betwen parent and teacher, to varying levels, determines the degree of academic and social development afforded the child. The trick? Parents, trust your teachers. Teachers, listen closely to your parents. You both love the child. Find your common ground, and build upon it.

Joint custody in a divorce situation presents challenges when it comes to assuming positive intent of the other party. And in my experience, similar challenges sometimes present themselves in the parent-teacher connection. The parent feels committed to doing absolutely whatever it takes to see his or her child experience fulfilling school days. All the teacher wants is safe, caring, effective education for all students. Funny, they seem so similar, but these can look very different, depending on which side of the door you stand: behind the home front door, or the school house one.

In the end, Anne, a fifth-grader, loves school. During times of illness, she begs to go to school. I think she maybe missed three days in the last three years of her education, due to illness. The other two were a trip, and we had to fight with her for that.

"Water under the bridge." "It all comes out in the wash." "You'll get over it." More than those cliches, parents love their children, and teachers genuinely care for their students. We did better than move on. We built trust, with teachers, with Anne, and with ourselves. And I dearly hope that next time my Mama Bear emerges in the face of an educator, that I wait a bit. That I listen. That I assume positive intent. I say "hope", because I know from personal experience just how hard that wait feels, and what a leap of faith it requires to shift perspective.

1-31-11 6:37 pm Verbs of Being

Good things result from positive thinking. This I believe. Replacing negative words with positive statements, and avoiding exception words like "but" support my positivity efforts. And...I continue identifying new methods for supporting my positive thinking. Here's a new one: replacing verbs-of-being with more articulate verbs.

Need reminding of which words comprise the list of Verbs of Being in the English language? I still command a memorized list from sixth grade:

be, is, am, are,
was, were, being, been,
should, would, could,
have, has, had,
may, can,
might, must,
shall, will,
do, did, does

That particular arrangement of the words helps me say the entire list. To me it shows their relationship to one another. My best friend in sixth grade refused to let us sleep during one slumber party until everyone memorized it. Thank you Pam. You changed my life.

All of life feels like a learning opportunity to me. So, I feel excited to try a verbal diet free of those words. Compare these statements: "I'm tired", versus "I feel tired". "I have a headache", versus "My head hurts". "I was going to..." versus "I planned to...". "That is a good idea", versus "That idea involves success on several levels." Clarity comes to mind when I compare them. Something about the words "feel", "planned", "involves", and "hurts" lend voice and deeper meaning to the statements.

I notice that removing verbs of being from my speech clarifies my meaning. The thought occurs that when I use verbs of being, the message feels more declarative, and less flexible. Statements also seem more vague, minuse the investment of thought required to come up with another, more descriptive verb. Ultimately, I think more before I speak on this verbs-of-being-free regimen. I appreciate that benefit, greatly!

Three words most commonly able to supplant those vague, declarative verbs of being: feel, seem, and need. And on closer examination, those words indicate a...state of being. "Feel", "seem", and "need" have more voice and meaning than any verb of being.

So, it looks like this journey toward positivity brings to into focus clarity for me. I think I feel specificity and ownership creeping into my thinking and improving it. Today I met with a co-worker who routinely demonstrates clear thinking. While I know she values my ideas it often seems to me that her thought processes and communication show more clarity than my own. In our meeting today that dynamic seemed changed for the better. I felt less inferior, more up to the task of sharing my thoughts and working with her. And for the first time this year I feel confident that we both walked away from the table with the same ideas about all the content, meaning, and implications of our schemes.

Thinking and speaking more clearly. It sounds good to me!

1-29-11 6:04 pm When it All Fails

You know, reading my recent blogs, I notice a distinct lack of the "b" word. Very good. And yet, negative words such as "don't", and "no" or "not" do present themselves. How can those words share a positive message? How might they denote positive thinking? They surely seem unable to.

So, am I really being that positive? Does it matter? I think so. There is one situation in my life when thinking positive failed me. Maybe it failed me. We so loved having Anne. We saw several children populating our family, regardless of how long "secondary infertility" haunted us. Regardless of the drugs, the shots, the inseminations, the money, oh, the money, we saw red every month - in more ways than one.

Positive-thinking. That's what I engaged in, between cyclic heartbreaks. I prayed, visualized, convinced myself, fantasized. The promise of an additional bundle of joy justified expenditures beyond means, continual efforts toward an elusive goal.

Our hearts bled. About 24 months into this sorrowful journey, we re-carpeted the town-house in which we lived at the time. In a moment of desperation I crayoned a huge, poetic plea to the universe to please create an additional life within our midst. We wanted another baby. I wanted to do better with the next infant (as if we'd done something wrong with Anne, which so far it seems we have not. She continues to thrive). Colorful soy words advertised my plea with the universe, to be covered and kept by new carpet and padding, soon.

Then my Dad came to our place for a visit; I'd momentarily forgotten my missive. That was until a mortifying flood of light filled the hall from the door he opened. And he chuckled. Who knows why? Humiliation drained my manners, and I slammed the door to what would have been our second baby's nursery.

We long ago abandoned our infertility journey. We knew we'd already stretched our finances beyond capacity - well beyond it. We began to resent the fruitless cycle of drugs, shots, inseminations, and regular menses. What loveless way was this to bring life into the world? We reconciled ourselves. Anne would be our only shot at good parenting. After 60 months, it seemed time to make the best of it, as we'd been trying to do all along. The stakes seem, not necessarily higher, rather, maybe just now more concentrated.

So, did positive thinking really fail us then? Hard to say. We've had several family pets who failed to work well in our household for various reasons. Maybe one being is all we're capable of. Maybe we could handle more.

I do remember, somewhere between 9 and 1,000 centimeters dilation, and after a few pulmonary complications for me, thinking: "Never again". Maybe I did it to myself. Maybe it's my fault for wishing no more births on us. Who knows?

Here's what I do know: We are pretty darn good parents. Anne is well-blessed. We have one fortunate family. For whatever reason, we have one child, and for that we are grateful. What if we'd been barren all our lives? And there's more to life besides children. We look forward to the future.

I can write, leaving out all negative words. What impact could it have on my life, and the lives of those around me? We shall see. Heartbreaks happen. And maybe positive thinking will help. So my challenge at this point: write minus all negative words. We'll see how it goes.

1-27-11 6:00 pm Honor

We all need it: recognition. Honoring someone validates them, and gives the honorer an opportunity for feeling privileged to share recognition. OK, in English: Today my sweet, loving, very-wonderful-husband brought me another perfect cup of coffee, to my happy surprise.

He has to have the forethought to make it at the right time, transport it to school with our daughter, actually park and come into school, then make his delivery. The other day, you may remember, he did this in my absence. Today, however I was there, along with two of my co-workers to witness the act.

I pounced! Arm stretched around all the shoulders it could fit, smiling at him, giving him a peck on the cheek, I proudly recognized his generosity in their presence. "And this is the best spouse I could ask for!" Boy, did he smile. It felt the least I could do, give him the recognition he clearly deserved. My two co-workers cooed with admiration, right on cue. Thanks guys, awesome timing!

So, four people had a happy moment today. For some the moment might have been shorter than for, say me, who got to enjoy my entire cup of coffee with those warm memories stirring around in my mind. Hopefully Harold got a boost that will last him a while. How did all this "goodness" occur?

I think it's the positivity. A while back I thanked Harold for a random first cup of coffee he'd brought me. Then the dry spell. And I could have said: "You know, you hardly ever bring me coffee, and yet I....(fill in the blank) all the time for you." Actually, we run a remarkably equitable household. And yet, we can all complain from time time to time. Instead, I focused on the positive: "You know, you made my day that one time when you brought me coffee. What a treat!" And now look. We're living a win-win. I'm very happy to receive random, tasty, hot cups of coffee from my loving husband. And so far, he seems delighted with the results.

1-26-11 9:20 pm Readers!

So, when a few followers appeared on the navigation pane of each of my blogs, it thrilled me. A full month later, those same one, two, three followers remain. Whether they read or not, the numbers hold steadfast, and I can always hope. It's about being positive, right?

Oh, the thrill if those numbers climbed. Someday maybe they will. What's really cool are the bits of conversation others share, telling me they read some of my blogs. Yes, readers read some of these blogs, regardless of "following". Yay. So, I have maybe an audience of six? What a thrill! Truly, connecting with the world at large in this way feels exhilarating! Thank you readers.

Now for the nitty gritty, from a positive perspective. Lots of opportunities presented themselves today:

• To show my principal that yes, I am capable of teaching and managing a classroom. And thankfully, I know she'll be back to observe again, soon.
• To re-establish trust, coherent communication, and common ground with a dear co-worker of mine, who may have reason to seek further clarification in our next exchange. Hopefully an opportunity will present itself soon.
• To deepen the level of commitment to team work with my partner in parenting. That could happen in the next ten minutes.

Self-criticism, always constructive of course, happens to be a frequently-engaged-in activity on my part. Reasons for that can be explored, explained, and down-right exhausted; the behavior persists. And so, how might this new positive spin impact the outcome of my intellectual self-flagulation?

I mentally beat up on myself a bit today, and yet I feel whole. Options abound. Hope remains. That's a gift. Maybe this gift means that my heart will remain open and hopeful, that my neural connections will fire more effectively since less cortisol will be there to inhibit smooth transfer of information. Perhaps I'll be more readily able to rectify the shortcomings of today, making these more distant memories for others tomorrow.

Whatever happens, I know writing about it will clarify my thinking and connect me to others in ways that reveal themselves slowly, beautifully, and surely. Divine intervention, divine connection.

1-23-11 8:34 pm "But"-less

Ok, I've been keeping track of the "b" word, and realizing that although it comes out rarely, I do say it. Rather than a long, drawn out "buuuut,...", it's more of a "b'd I think..." or "b'd what about..." Perhaps this shortening of the word shows my brains attempt at fooling itself.

Smiling is rarer than I thought too. This week my cheeks will burn with smiling. We'll see how that goes.

And I need to check my vision blog - the dream I specified and promissed I'd read every day.

"Committed" is a word describing my attitude, and clearly I've let a few things go. Fatigue perhaps? Over-ambitious goals? Hmmm....clearly this requires more thought. Maybe on my walk tomorrow I'll come up with some deeper thinking.

And now to review my vision...

1-19-11 5:44 And...

So far, "and" more than suffices when the urge to "but" hits. Actually, I feel ready for a test. I may have avoided the "b" word all day. Tomorrow I'll have to track it. Anyone wanna follow me with a recorder?

Others seem to be smiling at me a lot. It's hard to tell why. Perhaps the most useful thing to observe while I avoid the "b" word is to monitor how I'm feeling. So, the question to answer is: How does replacing "but" with "and" impact my internal processing - thinking and feeling?

Maybe tomorrow, as I monitor the absence of the "b" word, noticings will surface about what else is happening in my brain. It seems like it has to be good.

1-18-11 7:20 pm Fruition!

How is it possible? Only yesterday I articulated specific hopes for our future, among them giving away one of two annual $1,000 scholarships to high school seniors. On my way in to work today financial plans for investing money, I've yet to earn, whose returns would self-fund the scholarship, began to take form in my mind. And then a friend and co-worker extended an invitation to me - after I'd shared this part of my dream with her.

So, sharing helps dreams come true. Makes sense.

Turns out she belongs to an organization which sponsors a $1,000, annual scholarship to a high school student that writes a good essay. I'm in! Yes, it's slightly different than I had in mind, so I'm looking at this as training. Learn how to do scholarships so that when we're ready to give our own, we'll have some background knowledge.

Smiling today inspired some new noticings. For one, I realized that smiling at on-coming cars produces unknown results. Blind to their nods, return smiles, and glances, I found myself wondering what effect it was having. I continued to smile anyway. What harm could it do?

At work the results more clearly informed me of...I wonder what. When others saw my smile, they responded. Almost always with a verbal greeting, they responded, and quickly too. Did seeing a smile inspire vocalization? It seemed to. And I wonder still: Did they feel obligated to return my smile with a greeting, or were they inspired to reach out after seeing a friendly expression. Obligation versus inspiration. Does it even matter. As long as the ultimate result of my smiling at others leaves us both feeling better, that seems worthy of more smiling.

Leaving out "buts" I found doable, with some concentration. I think I'll keep at this one for a while, until it's a habit. For now it's so much work that noticing the result feels premature, and somewhat challenging. Stay tuned....

1-17-11 12:35 pm Smiling, "And's", and the "Anit-Crap" Factor

Again, this week, I plan to smile. Smile, smile, and when that gets routine, smile even more. Yesterday at a restaurant for brunch, I smiled at folks on my way to the restroom, on my way to and from our table, on our way in, and on our way out. And I only remember folks smiling back at me. Some of those smiles were demure, some a happy, surprised kind of smile, some weary, some even a little sad. They all lifted me or imparted a feeling of empathy. And so, the smiling continues...

And now for the "And's": It's simple enough to replace negative words with positives, the "No's" with the "What-about's", the emphasizing of good, and minimizing bad, and still...I think there's more. Negativity, as I learned at a class a few weeks ago, reproduces of it's own energies. Positivity, on the other hand, while requiring intentionality, has long-lasting effects on our emotions and thinking patterns in the brain. So what's the "more" about?

It simply feels to me that there's more I can do to become a more positive force in my own life, and in the lives of others. So I've been on the lookout for what else there might be, and may have found it. It's the word "But".

Think about when we use it: "But what about...?, "But I thought...", "But when will...?", etc. In fact, I can only come up with exceptionally negative contexts in which to use the word "but". It could be that it's purpose is to bespeak of a negative exception. And so, this week I'll replace "But" statements with their "And" counterparts. I predict this experiment will lead to more inclusive, positive speech patterns with even more positive outcomes. More on that as the week progresses.

And now about the "anti-crap" factor. "Visualize your dreams and they become reality." Heard that one before? Me too. Sometimes it feels more attainable than at others. As doubtful as it may feel tempting to view, I do recall a first-hand experience which bore this truism out for me...nearly 20 years ago. And the situation felt pretty dubious at the time.

Freshman year of college, big university (the U of MN, Twin Cities campus) new dorm, new meal plan, new class schedule, and a new language. I'd earned B's in high school French. That being sub-par to my standards, I needed a fresh start. Japanese! Toyota, Honda, and Nissan sales dominated U.S. markets at this time in the early '90's, and I was considering business as a major. It seemed a prudent move, this taking Japanese to meet my liberal arts degree language requirement.

After our first meeting I sobbed, openly, tearfully, snifflingly sobbed the entire way back to my dorm room. Learning Japanese in this program involved "submersion", which is learning language in an environment where that tongue is spoken exclusively. The "submersion" aspect of this class was first introduced to me, upon entering the room. Had I been prepared, maybe the shock-factor would have been less, and I'd have crossed campus with a bit more composure. And granted, tearing up comes easily and regularly to me, even more so with age, it seems. This rude awakening was simply more than my frail, freshman self was ready to handle.

I'd heard of the self-fulfilling prophecy before that time, and after the sobbing binge, pacing my dorm-room floor, it seemed the best, in fact, the only, option. Being an all-be-it mature adolescent, upping the ante came naturally. I decided I would do better than simply pass this class, simply meet my two-year language requirement earning a "C". I wanted to test the theory too. Maybe prove it wrong but proving it right would only be in my favor. A win-win. It felt brazen, almost rebellious, and that made my decision all-the-more exciting. I would earn an "A". For each assignment, each quiz, each test, each term exam, in fact for the entire class, I would earn an "A". And...low-and-behold, I did. Somehow that decision informed my study habits; that visualization of my transcript made it happen for me. With flashcards, study groups, and practice, practice, practice, I earned an "A" each and every step of that learning journey.

Honestly, visualizing the fruition of my hopes and dreams has worked many time over since those early deays. But what does this have to do with "positivity"? Well, I want peace. Joy, benevolence, good will, and education for all. I want all of that for my family, our community, our country, our world. Melt all the fire arms. Meet all social basic needs through social programs that provide security. Provide education, fund research, love one another. By mixing purely positive attitudes into the bowl of our socio-economic-environmental global citizenry, I feel I'm adding the right ingredient.

And this morning, reading yesterday's paper, reminds me I can do more. Thank you Cynthia Stafford, "The $112 Million Woman". She recalled to me again, that through visualization I can make my wildest dreams come true. Hers did. She won the lottery. She has fun and beautiful cars, and a production company. It was all thanks to beginning with visualization and "positive energy" toward her personal dreams.

So. I'm gonna get specific. Here's what I visualize:

A fortune earned through patents for inventions that help others and honor our ecosystem, sales from publishing our writing, coaching and teaching, and programs that support development of life-skills and independence for youth.

That fortune will grow, through re-investment in helpful endeavors, to support five annual $1,000 scholarships for high school graduates to earn certificates for specialized skills such as auto mechanics, design, computer programming, culinary arts, medical procedures, and electrician and plumbing programs. Five additional annual $1,000 scholarships for high school graduates with a passion to apply to their degree programs of choice in the arts, music, sciences, and liberal arts will also be funded through our investments, patents, sales, and good fortune. These scholarships will be bestowed upon high school graduates with a 4.0 G.P.A., and an essay sharing their passion, and how they will contribute to the well-being of others using it. Winners also will be determined in part, by excellent writing. Preference will be granted to students with limited financial resources.

Our fortune will also support our daughter's full college tuition, room, and board. Reinvestments will support her children's childnren's children. It will fund our retirement security. It will fund an annual vacation to parts of the world new and/or dear to us. It will fund an expansion of our current home, a procuring of another in a place we'd like to weekend, and the building a cottage guest house for parents and other guests.

It will fund a lifestyle supporting the health of our environment, our physical and financial health, and possibilities for new ventures, supporting creative problem-solving ideas, all while continuing to fund the scholarships. As for our daily routine?

Our earnings and investments will mean my husband Harold will be able to afford maintaining his current situation, a return to school, embarking on a new endeavor, whatever suits his desires. Our daughter, of course, will be funded through college, and strike out on her own knowing we'll be there to support her if needed. I will live my dream: Room every day for writing, teaching, cooking, coaching, collaborating, and inventing will fill my days. Exercise will be enjoyable and routine. Our legacy will be that of a kind, considerate, compassionate, visionary, givers.

For hobbies I will sing "The Star Spangled Banner" prior to sporting events. A friend and I will also have a story-telling non-profit so that we can enjoy one of our favorite past times, and enrich the literary experiences of young children. Those will be activities in which I can engage, for all my days.

We will have hybrid cars, eco-friendly appliances, and produce minimal trash. We will afford landscaping, and enjoy gardening. We will help our neighbors. That's my dream. I will visualize it daily, while smiling, and replacing "but" with "and". Stay tuned....

1-14-11 7:20 pm Positively Paraphrasing

Today I discovered the One-Two punch of powerful communication: combine positive language with paraphrasing the speaker. Can I patent this? Think about it. The listener feels heard, and now has positive language in which to frame thinking. This could lead to good things.

1-11-11 6:45 pm Grattitude

Gratitude has attitude at its root. An attitude indeed. Today I spent more time thinking about things for which to be thankful:

The opportunity to walk to work without burning fossil fuels.

Seeing my daughter at school.

The patience of my co-workers.

My hair looking a little better.

Lunch.

Walking home with Anne.

Wireless.

My husband dropping my shoes off at work.

A flushing toilet

Running water

1-10-11 9 pm On Gratitude

OK, I began walking to work today thinking about smiling. And about wrinkles. Wisdom is beginning to trace expressions on my face. And they reveal some history of my emotions. But it's a different picture than the artificially lifted, botox-enhanced faces of our common culture media. This could lean away from thinking positively. Time for thinking in a new direction.

Gratitude jumped to mind. Last night I finished reading The Year of Living Biblically, by A.J. Jacobs. He's an agnostic with Jewish heritage. He wonders what he may be missing by basically ignoring the bible, and also wonders what biblical values he should be teaching his young family, so he begins a quest for biblical learning. He tries to live as faithfully as possible to the teachings of the bible. How is wife survived not being touched for five days of every cycle is beyond me.

It's actually an enjoyable read. By the end he seems to arrive at the conclusion that if the bible may have some unfollowable rules in modern day, (stoning, for instance), it does at the very least have gratitude going for it. Jacobs seems to find comfort in making time for gratitude, even after his year is complete. (He seems happy enough to leave a great deal many other decrees behind - his beard for one).

So gratitude can bring comfort even to the agnostic. And it can only bring positive feelings for those to whom it's expressed. Hmm...it's good for me, and good for others. I wonder what gratitude lines will look like on my face. It's time to find out! I'm going to think about everything for which I'm thankful, as much as possible. Maybe I can do this on my45-minute walk to work. That should be enough time.

1-9-11 2:10 pm Smile!

Research smiling. It's on my to-do list this week. Surely there's research telling us exactly which endorphins smiling releases, what effect it has on the brain, and how smiling impacts others.

All I know is, smiling makes my life better. Others respond more positively to me when they see me smile. I automatically feel happier when I smile. OK, sometimes I feel a little ridiculous. What's that saying? If someone is smiling, they must be trying to sell something? I'm only trying to exist in a more positive state.

If it makes others feel better, that's important too. Smiling at the cash register, at my daughter an husband, at my co-workers, at concerned parents, and at frustrated children, all has the same effect. They calm down. Maybe their ammigdula (I need to find out how to spell that!) settles. They don't have to run because the smile they see reassures them that everything is OK.

I have to remind myself to smile. It's easy to forget, especially when I'm tired, to keep smiling. It's worth it. When others smile at me, I feel more free. Free to ask a question, free to stop and say "Hello", free to breathe. How is it that we can forget to do that, breathe? Maybe if I think of smiling as a life-sustaining activity, which it most assuredly is, it'll happen more automatically.

If I forget to smile one day, or one hour, or even one minute, I certainly will live to see the next moments of life. But smiling, I'm beginning to suspect links us to longer life. Another question that needs more research. In the mean time, I'm going to do my best to keep a positive attitude through smiling.

1-7-11 10:16 pm Positive Nurture

I learned something in a professional development class today that really has me thinking. The understanding share was that negative thoughts are self-sustaing, while positive thoughts require intentional direction. In other words, when the mind has a negative thought, that negative state has the potential to continue, grow, and spread to other thoughts. Positive thoughts, however, are born out of intentionally optomistic metacognition. The thinker actually has to decide "I'm going to look at this from a perspective of possibility".

The upside here is that the positive emotional state having to do with those thoughts, neurologically speaking, exists for five to seven days after that positive thought was generated. While negativity regenerates independently, positivity has longevity. While it might plum the depths of our thinking without a splash, it can stay there for a relatively long duration. Maybe it's more permanent. Positive attitude is then, perhaps, a habit of mind. It's an important, powerful, and good habit of mind.

So, what are the possibilities? This question asks the thinker to look for options. It opens the mind, and presupposes possibilities, or solutions, exist. This will be my strategy in the coming days, to examine any potentially difficult situation from the perspective of possibilities. This passes my personal litmus test for dediding whether or not something is a good idea, because it focusses on choice. Whenever choice is involved, the situation feels healthy and safe. Looking for possibilities feels healthy and safe to me. And the good news is, the positive effects should last over a week!

1-6-11 6:59 pm Options

Staying positive seems to mean evaluating and/or continuously exploring possible options for perceived problems. The trick there seems to be in the deciding to explore said options more than in the actual act of creating solutions themselves. I notice that once I've decided there must be options, the possibilities present themselves. Rarely do they require deep digging. But when they do, my conviction gives me the stamina needed for rooting them out.

Harold finally got the car today. It's been waiting for pick-up at the mechanic's after an oil change, for several days now. Without painful compromise, difficult discussion, or forfeiting my goals, he did it. I've managed to continue to nurture my hope of reducing driving to it's absolute minimum. Anne is getting her needs met, and we're all living happily. Positive choices seem to be creating positive outcomes. It makes so much sense, it's a wonder arriving here in this place of peace me took so long. And I wonder about the longevity of my staying here - looking at everything with the bright-side in mind. Seeking possibilities by default.

Perhaps I'm seeing a need for strategies to support existing in a positive state. Reminders? Maybe it's in routine? Will it become a habit? That would simplify things. Could keeping this blog support maintaining a positive frame of mind. Having past entries diaried will allow me to reflect on previous approaches if they start to fade. I am excited to see what happens!