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Currently Browsing: Gathering My Lessons

Judge Not Lest Ye’ Be Judged

Opinions are like noses, everyone has one. And you know of course, that makes everyone capable of being Judgy Judgertons right? But judgements are actually necessary. We judge if that old lady really is feeble enough to need a hand opening the store door and whether or not the pain we are currently having requires a 911 call for an ambulance.

We’ve been taught that judging others is bad. But even if  I choose to refrain from judging you, this probably won’t stop you from judging me. You will do what you will do. And so will I.Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged on Shalavee.com

I am often surprised at the judgements I come up with for people without knowing them. Seems that somehow deciding what you are or aren’t makes me feel better. I’m less threatened by you if I think you are snotty or snobbish. Then you snubbing me won’t be about my deficiency but yours.

If you are too skinny then you will judge me for being fat, as I judge myself this way. Or maybe you have an eating disorder and that scares me. We have a compulsion to separate out ourselves with our judgements.

Ironically, it’s the fear of being judged and cast out of the tribe that keeps us anxious. We judge ourselves against perceived goals of being acceptable and hope to be deemed worthy of our own existences.Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged on Shalavee.com

Judge Yourself First Lest Ye’ Be Judged Worse.

All I can do is try to be kinder and more open-hearted. To know that I am human and allow for my daily failings to make room for my winnings too. And to know that books and covers don’t match. If I find I have a trigger judgement surfacing, I can make an extra effort to ask a person what their favorite anything is. That way, we will pass from snap summaries to soul searches. That is me being the world I want to live in.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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Garden Grief

I told my husband this morning that I’m beside myself with frustration and grief from the garden shrub and tree flowering that got screwed up with our early warm spell and freeze this March. There was no umbrella of blossoms on the weeping cherry tree. There are three blooms on the wisteria. And the beautiful tulip magnolia tree next door just sprouted leaves without flowers. I am grieving for the Spring that got stolen.Garden Grief on Shalavee.com

It happens every year. The wisteria gets interrupted. The hydrangea bushes were taken back down to the ground as were the figs. An ill-timed frost takes out whatever shrub or tree is preparing it’s tender timid blossoms and shoots at the moment. And in the event of snowfall, a garage roof avalanche takes out your rosemary bushes. Garden Grief on Shalavee.com

My husband said,”Well you can’t control nature.” I stare at him. Is it that I am angry that I can’t control it? Or is it that I already see enough grief in the world without having my backyard oasis turn on me too? I had given over the vegetable gardening to my husband after a crop of six-foot tall tomatoes were devastated and demolished by a downy white mildew blight. It wasn’t personal, just nature and the wind. And I gave up.

Except understand, there are nine garden beds around my house. And I am happy with zero of them. The lack of enthusiasm doesn’t help to change them and so I carry over my disdain and complacency from year to year. Yes if I could afford to have professionals come in and overhaul them I would. But I can’t so I won’t.Garden Grief on Shalavee.com

A journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step they say. And drops in the bucket fill it up. I concede that I will have to begin again and forgive mother nature for her cruelty. It’s just business after all, not personal. The business of continuing to decide whether I’m in the game or not. If you pity me and live anywhere near me, tell me what you can do for me. I’m all ears.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your email box. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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Placeholder People

Some people embody placeholders. They see themselves as having no purpose, no fate that betters the world. That their purpose is to just keep quiet, keep moving, have a couple of children, make money to feed their family, and just be. Their subsistence and distractions are their definition of happiness. Perhaps those babies will grow up to have a bigger purpose, to do something amazing. Maybe not. Either way, there are people who aren’t meant to shake the world. And they too are very necessary.

I respect your claim that you don’t want to look inward, work on your soul, look at your fears, or be accountable for much more than you have to. And in return, please don’t mock those of us who can’t contain our craving to grow out of the pot we’ve been planted in. We are doing our darndest to make a difference and be brave for our children and maybe yours. Placeholder people on Shalavee.com

If you judge me, you then judge me for the risks you are unwilling to take. And while I respect other people’s fears as I respect my own, there’s no room anymore for “us and them” especially at the price of bravery. There is room for “you and me” and the acceptance of our differences, our fears, and our driving truths. Let’s agree to live our lives simultaneously and respect one another’s efforts. Because life smacks of effort all the time. And tolerance starts in our hearts.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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Just Because You’re Afraid Doesn’t Mean You’re Not Brave

Fiona was inconsolable with her self-pity after her recent round of shots. I thought she needed them for Pre-K but it seems we got them a year earlier than necessary. They’re done now. And those band-aids that I couldn’t remove from her thighs for days were proof that she wasn’t brave.

Don’t even suggest it to her because she’ll begin to cry and tell you she wasn’t. Still isn’t.Just Because You're Afraid Doesn't Mean You're Not Brave on Shalavee.com

In preparation for the day at the doctor’s office, I had read her a few books on going to the doctor’s and she found one in her bookshelf about the little turtle named Franklin who needs to go to the hospital. He’s had a soccer accident and needs a pin put in his cracked shell. And there’s a charming conversation between he and Dr. Bear where he doesn’t want to have an X-ray taken because he’s afraid it will show that he’s afraid inside.

The very wise doctor says,”An X-ray doesn’t show feelings. It only shows shells and bones.” Franklin says,”You mean no one will know I’m afraid?” and Doctor Bear answers,”No one. But just because you’re afraid doesn’t mean you aren’t brave. Being brave means doing what you have to do, no matter how scared you feel.”

Being brave means doing what you have to do,

no matter how scared you feel.Just Because You're Afraid Doesn't Mean You're Not Brave on Shalavee.com

Umm. How about that for a little applied wisdom in our lives. What are we putting off today. Not speaking up or risking rejection or telling the truth because of the scary risk of it all. How proud would any of us feel if we stepped up and did it anyway. Did it so we could hear ourselves say,”No thank you.” Or “I’m afraid of what you’ll say but I need to say this anyway.” I need my bravery way more than I need your approval. I need to keep braking through my fears until they fall away and I become as invincible as I will ever be.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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A Real Day

I lived another real day. Nothing “exciting” like a grocery store run. Just waiting on a service man, cleaning up a pee puddle or two from a stubborn 4-year-old daughter. Stasis. Stillness. Stupid brain.

Wishing I’d grabbed those few valuable moments of peace when she was sulking and half-naked in her room upstairs. But instead, I just wasted a half hour looking for that perfect rug online again. A real Day on Shalavee.com

The waiting has gotten me so much more than I’d credit it for. The waiting has made me catch up and slow down with my real purpose. Catch sight of who I really want to be : Me. I am a professional pusher and waiter. I got good at expecting way more from myself than I knew I could do deliver so that I would feel anxious and bad. And then I embraced stopping and listening to myself too.

I am good at waiting. I waited on you long ago at that restaurant. Now I am just awaiting my antibiotic to kick in and vanquish the umpteenth sinus infection, mother natures way of humbling my ambitious self out every time. The truth and the trick is? You aren’t ready until you are. What you do when you do it is proof of that. And using your expectations that are above and beyond your current capacity to torture yourself will only irritate and irk you in unnecessary ways. A real Day on Shalavee.com

Sometimes the time while you are awaiting the shift is torturous. It feels like spending long long days with a toddler trapped inside waiting for a delivery man. Because that’s what it is. And it is what it is until it isn’t anymore. Knowing this too shall pass, that soon this will all be a memory (nightmare) is how you live through it to tell another better story. Wait for it. You’re worth it.

And If you enjoyed what you read, subscribe, via the subscription box in the sidebar, to my thrice weekly posts via your emailbox. And visit me on Instagram to see my daily pictures, friend me or like my page on Facebook. Or come find me on Twitter or Pinterest too. I am always practicing Intentional Intouchness so chat at me please. I live for conversations.

And, as always, Thanks to you for your visit.

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