Bliss Station

Lately I seek to increase the number of moments where I experience happiness by plugging into the bliss of simply being alive. I practice 1-5 minute mindful breathing and pause to notice random things or people around me. The key of being is in the noticing.

The world has been put in timeout for 12 months. I mourn for the silent voices lost: over 500,000 humans in our country. More around the globe. If those voices could speak, what would they say?

I wonder what humans have discovered inside the safety protocol walls of a pandemic. Is there a general set of collective thoughts that bubble to the top of mind as important?

While reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic, I leaned into the joy of art, creativity, writing, and the delight of doing (or not doing) what you feel called to do. She seemed to support a phrase that a friend and I discussed in recent months: “It all matters. And, it all doesn’t.” Do or don’t, Creativity will find a vessel to express itself.

My takeaway from her book was the encouragement to enjoy your art, enjoy your creative endeavors. For me, that is writing. Writing isn’t easy for me, but it is the very thing nestled and happening inside my brain almost all day long. Often my mind writes without my presence at a keyboard. What does your mind long to do?

A pleasant surprise listen from the library this weekend was The Power of Myth with Joseph Campbell and Bill Moyers. This is a fascinating group of interviews about the interwoven nature of beliefs around the world.

Two of my favorite takeaways are that the hero is prepared right before the task ahead and to connect with your bliss. This audio recording is packed full of great thoughts like how marriages that sacrifice to the relationship seem to last. If you sacrifice to the other person, you may grow weary since humans are flawed.

It is also important to change up activities in order to free up the mind. In March 2018, a friend in social work said there was a seminar totally unrelated to our jobs that looked interesting. Would I like to go?

Sure. My brain needed a break. I could learn about Bitcoin for a few hours. I had no idea what cryptocurrency was!

So we went: two ladies in a sea of men. My eyes glazed over. But bonus, I did not spend any time thinking about my life stress or work. It was fun to learn a tiny bit about something completely different.

When we walked away, I noticed how relaxed I felt that afternoon compared to the week overall. My brain had escaped. I felt better. Now I know that I was connecting to my bliss, which has nothing to do with Bitcoin.

My bliss involves learning. I love to learn. Crypto was the vehicle to my bliss station that day.

In Big Magic, Elizabeth Gilbert says this type of experience is what Einstein called “Combinatory Play“. When you spend time creatively or across disciplines, it can help free your brain to rest and then ease the return to your work. If you’ve never tried this, I invite you to spend a few minutes crafting, writing, drawing, doing whatever sounds fun at the moment.

Free your brain. Find your bliss.

Let’s enjoy more of our days.

Scorpions & Snow Plows

The subconscious mind is a place for truth though we may not recognize it at first glance.

Three nights this week included the constant noise of a mechanical bobcat in battle with the snow. I felt gratitude for the man driving the machine 12 hours at a time. I felt challenged by 3am continuous “beep, beep, beeps” that prohibited my ability to sleep.

I have struggled with bad dreams and waking up a smidge anxious for months anyway. Changes and stress have a way of demanding attention even when waking hours seem fine.

This weekend I have been able to sleep. And, I have been able to tackle neglected writing projects. It feels good to dive in where I felt stuck for a long time.

I suppose no one takes next steps until they are ready. Creativity calls. Only some hearts answer.

Then last night in my dream I was with Hubby, a wheelchair, and we were in what I would call the universal church fellowship hall of the 1970’s and 1980’s. I bet you can visualize the paneling, folding chairs and posters that were hung on walls far too long. Church was done for the day. Hubby was pleasant but tired. It was time to go back to where we were staying in Florida. Bonus: it was a travel dream.

Then I look down and see a scorpion. It seemed bad. But was it? I wondered.

I went to get a church deacon type to help. A young person ended up walking in to confirm that the creature was what we thought.

We weren’t afraid. There were simply things that needed to be handled.

Once awake, I looked up dream symbols. Sometimes dreams are pretty obvious regarding what’s on one’s mind. And other times a random symbol stands out. I mean, it is not like I see routine scorpions where we live in the upper Midwest.

I found that the scorpion can mean making peace with a challenging situation and moving on.

So the scorpion symbol added up fairly well. Life is semi-hard. Mostly I give thanks for my problems because things could be far worse. I try to be happy in the right now. And, the moving on part is likely because I am able to work on special writing projects that have waited for me patiently.

Thanks for reading and sticking around all these years. The best is yet to come.

Valentine Antidote

It is that day when I promise once again that next year I won’t be in town on Valentine’s Day. I will be with girlfriends or on a beach, on a mountain top, anywhere else doing something–anything–not so ordinary.

Valentine’s Day is a double whammy. It’s also my birthday. Growing up, I loved celebrating with red hearts, white paper lace, pink streamers, balloons and all things Valentine.

As an adult, I realized many people have jumbled emotions linked to February 14. Happy feelings, angry feelings, dread, anger and so forth.

Then I married someone who expresses love inversely to what I anticipated. Let’s just say his first romantic gift was a bright yellow personal alarm to wear on my waist so I could pull the cord for it to wail and screech if someone nefarious came too close to me on my college campus.

We’ve worked it out. It’s taken a lot of tears and years. I’ve learned that the antidote to my occasional sad feels is to have less expectations, ask for something specific if desired, support or help others.

These days, ALS-21 plus a Pandemic make it so Hubby can’t get out to shop, or walk much, or feel good for a full day. I am happy simply when his words are kind. I like thoughtful and kind. Lately, I’ve been quietly thanking the writers of Call The Midwife. Hubby really likes that show. I call it his daily empathy exercise. Women have been through so much and that binge worthy series does not shy away from hard topics.

Speaking of writers, my feel better about Valentine’s Day activity this year was to support authors I care about. I directed Hubby to my wish list and he placed the order. I was excited to open the packages.

Janine Rosche is an author who picked me up off the floor when I received a bad news phone call at a writer’s conference. She prayed with me. Then I found out she was looking for a certain agent to meet. I am thrilled to say they met indeed and are three books into a successful journey. I now have a trifecta of inspirational romance to read:

William Klein’s book was lost in our move so I needed a replacement copy. This is a timely fictional story about a painful border experience.

And Jessica Terry is a writer that cracks me up with her Instagram stories. Like me, she was a basketball player in her youth. We’ve never met. I appreciate her work ethic and passion. So, I soon will read:

Who would you like to support? Someone creative? An organization that does something you value? Church? Someone elderly or ill? Doing a little something for others could brighten your Valentine’s Day. Earlier in the week, I called a couple people who I hadn’t spoken with in a few years. It was a good time on old fashioned phone calls.

Frequently, I think of the verse Love One Another (John 15: 12). Loving others does not result in only one direction of good vibes even when that should be our intention. When you love others, the good feels return to fill your heart and strengthen the weave of the universe.

Still in town,

P.S. Hubby also visited the Shari’s Berries website. Winner. Yum.

Mind, Body & Soul

Basically, I have spent the weekend on a date with the book Think Again by Adam Grant. Thank you to my dear friend for telling me that his new book is available.

He is a psychologist who speaks all of my brain frequency love languages. I am applying what I’ve learned about re-thinking immediately. I propose this book can help multiple areas of every person’s work/life. Check it out if you dare.

“The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know”

Friday I took time to figure out the $5 Bluetooth wireless headphones that I’ve had since November. My body can roam the condo and walking path handsfree now.

The last three days also have involved editing one of my manuscripts. So, my creative soul is awakening–again.

I am 48 years old for 7 more days, filled with hope for 49.

See this girl with her typewriter and braces headgear? She has always been a writer and always will be.

Hope you have a great week,

Still Here

There is “a lot of togetherness for families right now”, a friend said–knowing how people at home can get on one another’s nerves after nearly a year of social distancing.

I dream of hopping in the car and taking long drives. Drives that land me in other states, on a mountain or on a beach. The sound of ocean waves is high on my YouTube search list.

Our family is fortunate to have moved just in time to our condo where accessibility for Hubby is much better overall. Our youngest is attending college online this semester rather than returning to a dorm. It has been a comfort to know Son 2 is home when I mask up and go to work. If Hubby falls, Son 2 is here to help at least for now.

While things are far from perfect, I count blessings daily.

Hubby and I have opposite personalities. Often I either have a different viewpoint altogether or am mentally translating that we just said something similar in a different way. I usually recognize the style difference first while he argues his point. I wait, then eventually say, “we said the same thing” which he may or may not ever believe. This fact has worn me out for near 3 decades–long before ALS added to our mix.

I notice a lot of couples end up on opposite sides of the picket fence so I want to encourage those who end up as spouse, friend and caregiver. Caregiver is a twist of sour lemon, but you can carry on and survive. I even believe thriving is possible. Not there yet, but I’m considering what “thriving” might look like. Stay tuned.

Occasionally I have a little island moment epiphany. This week I was knocked over by the thought, “He’s still here.”

And, I’m glad.

I can still figure out how to hug him–awkward and on me to initiate, but it is possible. I can still ask his opinion about something. I can still find a moment to catch up about our sons. Once in a while something on TV makes him laugh, and that is my favorite few seconds of eye crinkling. Last night he was able to sit in a chair long enough to play a couple rounds of a board game. That was a win.

Still here is a lot better than not here.

So, we carry on.

Savor the Pour

Time to close the year 2020. I have written very little since moving into our new place this fall. However, I am beginning to feel a creative flow return.

Like many, I welcome 2021.

In recent days, I take time to enjoy the red tea pot that our son gave me a few years ago.

Whether adding hot water to a mug of chocolate or tea, it is the moment when the spout tips into the ceramic that I savor the most.

Steam, pour and stir. The stillness. The seconds just for me. The peace.

I feel mindful in those brief moments. Present and alive.

And that is my wish for you. May peace fill your soul.

Happy. New. Year.

But Not The Baby’s Wagon

Once upon a time, back when I thought I was tough, when I believed wholeheartedly that life will be what you make it, when I never cried at movies or much of anything besides a broken heart, my future husband and I took a road trip.

He played his favorite songs through the car cassette player. “Listen to Sammy Kershaw,” he said. “If we are going to get married, then we have to promise never to let this happen.”

The song was Yard Sale. The lyrics played:

Cardboard sign says yard sale
Real estate sign says sold
Family picnic table
Holds all that it can hold
On the grass and on the sidewalk
Well there must be half the town
Ain’t it funny how a broken home
Can bring the prices down

Oh they’re sortin through
What’s left of you and me
Paying yard sale prices
For each golden memory
Oh I never thought
I’d ever live to see
The way they’re sorting through
What’s left you and me

You left two summer dresses
In the backyard on the line
A lady just brought them to me
Says she thinks they’ll fit just fine
Well there goes the baby’s wagon…

By the time the baby’s wagon is sold, my lips are quivering.

Tears. What the heck?

And ever since that 19 year old day, I joined in on his idea of divorce not being an option.

When Hubby was diagnosed in 2017 with ALS-21, soon could no longer work, and he had to crawl if stairs were involved, I saw the dim light arrive over the home we once were determined to grow old in together.

I knew we’d have to leave.

And I knew our very real children’s wagon was in the garage. Do our sons need it anymore? Uh, no. Did we love it and use it a lot? Yes. That wagon toured the neighborhood many days, helped with Halloween, Cub Scout popcorn sales, and gardening.

I have cried about leaving our home for weeks while keeping my body sorting, packing, dragging, etc. Moving out of a home you’ve lived in over 20 years is more of a feat than a project. Plus, when leaving is a “have to”, the work can be extra painful. My heart resisted while my body ran the metaphoric marathon.

Then I learned that a 5 year old is part of the new family who bought our house. Turned out, she would like to have the wagon.

Take that, ALS-21! You can not have our babies’ wagon!

And that made me feel good. The wagon will live on in our neighborhood for a little while longer.

We are 4 hours into condo life without overlap with the house. There is a peace in seeing Hubby get around much better here. My mind & tired body will settle into the peace soon I hope.

Speaking of marathons, next Sunday Lisa Zupan is running 26 miles for two causes. One of the reasons is to help purchase a scooter and car lift for Hubby. If you would like to donate, click here.

God bless you through the many chapters of life.

Love,

Glenna

Goodbye, House.

Have fun, Wagon!

Grieving A Place

This may be the last blog I write from the home we have lived in over 20 years.

I knew the uphill battle of grief kicked in when random tears began showing up at various times of the day two weeks ago.

Anxiety woke me up in the mornings via a scary dream or a feeling of panic or a headache well before my alarm. If you know me, this is wildly different than my zero problems with sleep usually.

How will I manage the calls that need to be made? Will contractors show up at the new place or old on time? Have I packed enough? What still needs to be thrown away? How will I do this physically, at this point, mostly on my own in the time of Covid-19?

And then sadness: Our grandchildren will never walk through the same doors our kids did.

I tell myself it is just a place.

Then I Marie Kondo try to honor and thank the house for the time we’ve cherished together.

I pray. I dream of an easier lifestyle.

I feel nervous about the multiple pages of condo rules. There’s no vacuuming after 9pm, for example. I kid that I am moving into assisted living at 48 years old.

Then I try to visualize a much simpler way of being. The idea seems serene to soon be able to write or exercise over yard work any day of the week. I am leaving yard tools behind–that feels out of control for this girl! I ponder if friends will allow me to occasionally pull their weeds. Seriously.

I read author Bill Klein’s blog post about Change after a startled 5AM awakening. He writes “The trick in dealing with change is in fanning the flames of optimism and possibilities that exist. How do we get the mind to recognize the power of possibility to inspire the imagination to arrive at new possibilities when we are facing fear at its most daunting?”

So I will try to fan the optimism and the thoughts of Hubby being in a safer situation. It is scary to live here currently with stairs, etc. I am frightened when I leave for work, and I stress about missing time together in the hours I spend working on the house.

Soon all the rooms he needs will be handy. I like the idea that we will be able to leave the condo behind any time we want for a short jaunt or trip. In some ways, we will be able to spend more time together. The next chapter will be more manageable.

If I could flip the switch and be on the other side of moving and the other side of these feelings, then I would. Instead, life demands that one feel the grief for a little while.

There’s no way out but through. Keep going.

Love,

Glenna

Do The Work, White People

White People,

I feel like I’m in a game of “Not It!” with you. That’s what I think when I see people try to throw down a meme that misses the point.

If you want to do better & you want society to do better, then you have 2-4 jobs right now:

  1. Listen. Listen all the way. Listen without having a single thought about what you think about a topic. Listen to hear something new. Listen to someone who does not look like you. Do not say one word about what you think unless you have done the work.
  2. Read. Read something credible like a book that can teach you something that you never considered before. And you’re going to have to be patient. Don’t give up after two paragraphs like one of my friends who direct messaged me, “I don’t agree, and I just can’t do this.” Read all the way. Here are 3 books that I have devoured this summer so far. I could not be happier about the discoveries and glossary of terms that I am now aware of. In fact, some things that bothered me in the past I now have words and definitions for about why. I could not put my finger on certain concerns before, but now I can. I have plenty more books to read soon too.
  3. Watch. If you are not willing to read or listen to books from the public library or Audible, if you have no one in your life that you can really talk to in a way that you could learn something different, then Netflix has a bunch of Black Lives Matter movies picked for you. Or you can find some of the above mentioned authors or topics discussed on YouTube and in TedTalks.
  4. Support. Support people who know more than you do. Donate to or buy from Black led organizations. Go stand in support at a peaceful event. [Please wear a mask for the health of all.] Tell someone you care about them and you are here for them. I loved when my pastor said in a sermon recently, “If you’re not Black, then you don’t know.”

There is plenty to do if you really want to be helpful.

Do you ever remember learning how to be antiracist when you grew up? Did you attend an anti-racism class as a child? No?!? Of course not. Find out why. Now is the time to do the work of learning. It is not too late. Even one shift in the way you think will help you, your family and future generations. I read Matthew 18:1-5 while writing this and am reminded that we must humble ourselves and learn like little children.

I have witnessed or heard of many misguided moments lately. If you lead a company and you think oh, let’s get all the Black people in a room and ask them what to do, then I call “not it!” Yes, every voice is needed, but you may do more harm than good if you have not done your work. Here’s a key fact:

Systemic racism requires systemic change.

If you’ve done your personal work and you really want to end racism, then we have to change how we do business. This means required trainings, for example. Everyone can benefit from implicit bias and racial equity training. What if every policy and hiring is required to be run through a racial equity checklist? Real progress happens when we change every day practices.

It can be painful to see well intentioned people scurrying to do or say things while assuming they know what to do. You know what happens when you assume, right?

When you do the work in your own heart and mind first, then your next steps will be better.

Love,

Signature GSE

P.S. If you feel defensive or angry while reading this, then this post wasn’t for you. This was written for folks who truly want to love one another.

What If On Easter

When I was a little girl, my best friend’s mom would say to us, “Be still now” in a soft pleading yet firm voice.

As the pandemic rages on, my mind wanders and wonders while my body is still.

I have more questions than answers.

In addition to flattening the Covid-19 curve, what if staying home was the only way:

  • to get global attention
  • to quiet the earth
  • to get people to pray at the same time
  • to help us see nature’s beauty anew
  • to give bees a fighting chance
  • to amplify what matters
  • to help us value relationships
  • to assess how we use time
  • to see the unseen
  • to say thank you to those we once took for granted

What if the graduating seniors (we have one in our home) need this time to have conversations with their parents that would have been missed otherwise?

What if being nearly alone on Easter removes distractions and opens your path to God?

What if this is our time to dial direct to our Higher Power?

Normally I would be cleaning and cooking, but this Easter I will meditate on verses, pray and watch church online.

May peace be with you.

May love hug the earth,

Glenna

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. John 3:16

Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:10