Wednesday, January 23, 2019

"NO IS A COMPLETE SENTENCE"



I could be quoting Annie Lamott or Psychology Today or Mindful.org or Megan Le Boutillier or any number of sources or people.  I could be quoting my Dad when he wondered what my teenage self didn't understand about "no."  

But there's another kind of "no," the no that's needed when we're deciding how to spend our time.  After all, what else is irreplaceable, limited and will cease at an unknown point? The Stoic philosopher Seneca (4 BC-65AD) said to guard it as we would our most precious possession. I know I don't do that.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who ended his days in a concentration camp, said that "Time lost is time when we have not lived a full human life, time unenriched by experience, creative endeavour, enjoyment, and suffering."  Most of us don't wish we had more time to suffer, but we know what he means: time spent grieving is time wisely spent, time spent empathizing is time wisely spent, likewise time spent sharing another's sorrow.  


There are times, though, when we must say no.  These include the times some of us are tempted to say "yes" because our culture prizes busy-ness, or because we see people on social media whose lives seem curated to perfection.  Or in a work setting, because we are trying to get ahead, build a business or reputation, or just stay afloat, and we are afraid to turn down any opportunity.  Not FOMO exactly, but perhaps a lack of faith in ourselves or our future if we take a moment to breathe.  As a lawyer, it took a long time for me not to answer the question "How are you?" with anything other than "Busy" or worse, "Super busy," whether it was true at the moment or not. Busy had status.


We should strive, experts say, to say "no" without guilt, even when the alternatives we are choosing are doing something for our self or doing nothing at all.  We don't have to explain.  "No I can't" or "No I'm already over-committed" is enough.  This leaves no room for challenge or pressure.  

Saying "no" to ourselves can also be part of our self-care.  Creating protective boundaries not only for others to observe but for us to respect as well.  Like saying "no" to apps that send us alerts multiple times a day.  Or "no" to obsessively checking our email (yes even work email). Or to checking our phone before we've gotten out of bed.  It's a way to choose how we spend our time.  A way to remember it's not always something that matters.  We matter too. 

Seneca talks about how one who borrows the smallest, cheapest item acknowledges the debt but even the most grateful cannot repay the time they have taken from us.  Nor can we reclaim the time we have given away.  So if tomorrow is a work day or school day we set our alarms.  For what is already scheduled we hope we have made good choices, that we would utter the same "yes" or "no" again.  For what is to come let us make choices that we don't regret, either now or in the future.  Let us fearlessly recognize that "No is a complete sentence." This is something we can work on; it would be time well spent, wouldn't it?                
                                                             Wishing us all Success, Nina Naomi






















Thursday, January 17, 2019

WHAT'S YOUR SIMPLE WINTER THING?


I buy The Simple Things at my local Barnes and Noble.  You can also visit www.ICEBERGPRESS.CO.UK to buy yours. It's a lovely magazine for UK aficionados like myself.  So far I love everything British except Brexit.  That does not seem British at all.  I've mentioned before that people write in what their "Simple Thing" is.  Ordinary things like "cold toast with a thick slathering of butter."  Nothing's more British than cold toast.  Brits even use a cooling rack to make sure not one bit of warmth is left after toasting.  Perverse, isn't it?  My simple thing corollary to that would be "A fried egg on hot buttered toast."  Yes, much more American.  


Winter is such a wonderful time.  When it's not too frigid outside, a lovely simple thing is the outdoor fire pit and a woolly blanket as darkness falls.  Or if the temperature is 20ยบ, like it is today, and we're off school and work for the Martin Luther King, Jr. Holiday, then a raging fire indoors is the best simple winter thing.  Toasting marshmallows, or watching a movie with the kids.  Or maybe even better, watching something that only I want to see.  My Netflix list. 


Remember when Dumbledore said, "One can never have enough socks.  Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair.  People will insist on giving me books." Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, J.K. Rowling. New socks is a simple winter thing. Or old favorites. I got a pair in my Christmas stocking, and sent out a bunch.  My sweet New Jersey nieces said, "Some people think they are corny but we like them," then sent me this fuzzy polka dot pair by return mail: 


Still, books may be the best winter simple thing. Transporting us to another age or country or emotional state.  Challenging us, absorbing us, every sentence a pause, leading us to thoughts we may never have had before.  Reading the classics does this, Shakespeare, Dickens, Salinger, Flaubert, Kate Chopin. . . .  Just choosing one to read or reread will transform the whole winter on its own.  What shall I pick? Maybe The Awakening (1899) set in New Orleans where Chopin's heroine struggles against turn-of-the-century attitudes about femininity and motherhood.  I can't forget that book. 

Of course we can combine a plethora of simple winter things into a glorious day or afternoon or evening--cozy socks, in front of the fire, with our book, under a woolly throw, tea and hot buttered toast at our side, dog at our feet. . . . 
What are your simple winter things?   Outdoors or in?  Active or sedentary?  Planned or spontaneous?  Relaxing or invigorating?  There's not a bad choice, is there?  It's a wonderful season!





















LOVING-KINDNESS MEDITATION




When you meditate you can also notice the softer
more subtle thoughts that you usually race past.
 
This morning I had time for a guided loving-kindness meditation.  A chance to enrich my fledgling meditation practice.  I needed it.  I'm still home recovering from a major surgery. That's why I had the morning free. You can find free audio resources for mindfulness meditation at www.Mindful.org.  "Healthy Mind, Healthy Life," that's the motto of Mindful.  

Because I rely upon God for help and guidance, I try to integrate my faith into my meditation and mindfulness practice.  Although I'm a beginner, it's not too hard to do.  In fact, I feel like it comes naturally. When I am focusing on my breathing I remember that it is God who created me, who gives me breath, who I call upon when I am anxious, distressed or afraid.  When I move from my breath to a body scan, I thank God for each part of my aging body.  In fact, we can thank God for age itself, for not leaving this precious earth before our time. 

I've practiced Yoga for years, but taken only one 10 week MBSR (Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction) course at Duke Integrative Medicine, signed up for a full Day of Meditation, and later a 3-Day Urban Retreat.  So, yes, a beginner.  But perfect after any of our 'Big' birthdays, or during life transitions (empty nests, job changes. . .), or after traumas or griefs or betrayals or anything that needs healing.  I've learned that much already.   

Today's guided meditation began with a focus on ourselves and on someone who loves us.  My mother I thought, or my husband, but finally chose God.  That kind of unconditional love fit the meditation.  Having God say to me, "May you be happy, may you be safe, may you be protected.  May you be free from pain [yes! I need that!], may you have health and well-being as much as is possible. . . . "  I know God doesn't promise these, not health, not freedom from pain or suffering; rather God promises to share our afflictions.  But I do believe that God wants wellness for us, wants safety for us, wants health and happiness for us.   

I always add, "May you be kind."  I want that for myself as well.  All these loving-kind wishes, for me and then as the meditation goes on, from me to others, and out into the world.  So much wonderful hope in this meditation.  Feeling the love of someone else for you; or of God for you; or you for yourself; or yourself for others. . . .

I am working to find more time for this each day.  I have tomorrow's guided meditation picked out:  "A Loving-Kindness Meditation to Boost Compassion" created by Dr. Emma Seppala of Stanford University.  How can we lose, each of us, our compassion out-flowing into our families and communities and from there to who knows where?  I am going to try.  Nina Naomi











Wednesday, January 9, 2019

HEALTHY ATTITUDES (THE HUSTLER)


I read an article called "The Anti-Hustle" by Paige Leigh Reist in Bella Grace magazine, www.bellagracemagazine.com. It made me think.  

For me the word hustle has negative connotations.  It doesn't conjure up working hard for a good cause or giving of one's self to help others.  It doesn't even project multi-tasking to get the job done.  What Reist describes is "turning every . . . interaction, relationship, interest and activity into some sort of promotion or business venture."  Exhausting and inauthentic, she says. 

I've alluded to the inauthentic in other Healthy Attitudes posts.  I am not talking about a business website or blog where every person who clicks knows they are being sold a product.  They want the product, that's why they're clicking. They want details and testimonials and reviews.  They are shopping!  

I am talking about turning your life into a catch-all popularity and profit center.  The kind of blog or twitter account where the writer has something to sell but couches the sale as "Let's be friends." "I'll be in fill-in-the-blank this weekend and I hope you're there, love to meet you." "I freakin' love so-and-so on my podcast and hope you will too!"  "I can't catch my breath.  It's our 2nd season!"  "Guess what?  My book is now on Kindle for $2.99." These are real quotes.

Reist describes the detriments and rewards this kind of marketing brings. She carries a lot of embarrassment, she confesses, over what she's done "all for the sake of a few more followers or page views."  "And God," she continues, "the worst part is that it's so addicting when it works.  Validation! Popularity! Financial compensation!  The promise of becoming one of the elite, fabled influencers!"  

And then, Reist laments, "[t]hat sinking feeling when the high wears off."  When the book is $2.99 I suppose, or the guests on Season 2 aren't quite up to the guests on Season 1, or the number of listeners drops off.   All so predictable.  Then the hustle has to move up a notch.  Less time between promotional tweets, more fawning over followers, more build-up of guests.  More pretense that the relationship between writer and reader or podcaster and listener is something other than the one person selling something to the other. 

So, what is healthy and what isn't?  Sharing ideas and photos, that's healthy.  Inspiring others, that's healthy.  Openly selling our crafts, illustrations, textiles and other creative endeavors, that's healthy.  Sharing thoughts, recipes, decluttering tips, the wonders of nature.  Or something more serious:  hopes and dreams and disappointments, the benefits of mindfulness or of meditation or of prayer.  People from around the world spending a few moments with one another.  Remember when we couldn't do that?  How much poorer we were then. The list of what's healthy is long.

What isn't healthy?  Tweets that are one humble brag after another are not healthy. Bragging is not healthy. Disguising marketing as friendship or as helping others is not healthy.  Being disingenuous is not healthy.  For example, if a writer selling a book about her illness is now cancer-free, omitting that from an op ed is not healthy.  That should be shouted from the rooftops.  Readers deserve to know that you are not at death's door, that your widely-publicized prayers have been answered, that they can admire you--if they want--for something other than your personal response to this all-too-common disease. 

It's all about honesty, isn't it?  If my legal services are available I quote my rate and tell you what I can realistically accomplish. It's a business relationship. I have a business web site.  It's a bonus if along the way we become friends. But I don't lure you to my law office with the plea, "Be my friend." 
 
The article by Paige Reist sent me to her lovely blog, "The Wholesome Handbook."  She reminds us that in our professions we all make industry relationships, we use social media and we hone our crafts.  We're all creative, sending bits of our selves out into the world where we want them to succeed.   But we're not here to sell ourselves to others, to use tragedy for personal gain or to become a brand or message. Pay attention, Reist says, to how often we do things with the intention of being noticed.  I like that.  That's a healthy attitude!