HOMEMADE SELF-HELP

A Selection of Found Insights

Stop investing energy in imagining scenarios that trigger anxiety. 

Feeling guilty causes mild yet chronic stress. 

If we can't forget at least we can forgive.


Feeling flattered is a bad counselor. 

Believe in Ourselves, Possibility, the Future, Kindness, God's Goodness, the People who Love Us, Generosity . . . 

Forgiving isn't condoning; it's taking back control, giving ourselves the freedom to move forward.  There is no moving forward without forgiveness.

Give the Gift of Love.

When we have sad thoughts remember they too will pass.

When we try something new it is at first irksome rather than pleasant; give it time.

Clear our minds with actions that take concentration.  Focus is calming.

There is good news everywhere when we're not depressed. 


Most things that make us happy are Free:  Curiosity, Friendship, Laughter, Nature, our Instincts, Change, Growth, Discovery . . . 

Prayer is the Soul's Way of coping with Reality.

If we have a choice, choose what's best for us.

Be affectionate, be tender, be present.

If we're upset by a memory write in our Journal; Give it to God.

Read.  Lose ourselves in a Book.  Immerse ourselves in a parallel literary landscape.  Mindful reading may be the ultimate balm for our tech-worn brains.  Merge the story with our own memories and experiences.  Live elsewhere. 

Doing nothing for a while expands our sense of time which makes us feel less hurried and stressed.  

Travel gives us distance from our daily worries.  That's one reason it's valuable. 

A Handbook for Happiness might be to Slow Down, Enjoy what we have, Make the most of Where We Live. 

The Simple Things, January 2020 @Icebergpress.co.uk

 

   

  

 

 












  






   











  

FINALLY--SNOW IN THE PIEDMONT

Reflections at Midnight

So excited! Finally--snow in the Piedmont!  I know, others may be tired of the cold.  Tromping over piles of dirty snow at crosswalks, de-icing the windshield and waiting for Spring.  My New Jersey relatives among them.  I grew up a Midwesterner who walked to school, sometimes miserably.  But here we wait.  And yesterday we were rewarded.  Skies white with snowflakes as big as quarters. Four inches of fresh soft snow.  Perfect packing.  Perfect sledding.  We were on our neighbor's hill before you could say Jack Robinson.  I changed jeans twice.  

This morning we wake to more beauty, the trees sparkling and the birds warming in the sun.  Our feeder empties before breakfast is over.

Lots of birds winter in North Carolina, both residents and visitors.  Sparrows and finches, chickadees, titmice and nuthatches, woodpeckers, wrens, blue jays, cardinals, and more. Quieter this time of year but still hungry. I keep my bird book on the windowsill.  The blue jays and cardinals like our holly berries which are right by the back door.  The blue cedar berries in the meadow are a bird forager's treat too.  

Here schools close for weather our Northern neighbors would scoff at.  In St. Louis where I grew up schools never closed.  The few of us (teachers included) who made it to class doubled up in classrooms and enjoyed the eeriness of half-empty halls.  Does anyone else remember a time like that?  Our high school sat next to a lake and we could skate over lunch and after classes were over. The ice was so thick and the snow so deep that a snow plow had to clear the way for the skaters.  There was an outdoor pay phone to call for a ride home as dusk settled.  How different from today.  

Sometimes I look for a lesson in my day.  What does this mean?  How might it help me in the future?  What universality can be drawn from my experience that someone else might identify with?  When someone else's experiences apply to me I like that.  It's like profiting for free.  But I don't see a universality here.  It's just a great wintry day that's bringing back memories. So simple.  Nothing wrong with that. 
                                                    Nina Naomi

WINTER'S RHYTHM

John Boswell, American Historian (1947-1994)

Winter is brief in North Carolina.  Maybe that's why I love it.  John Boswell, who I'm quoting, was born in Boston where winter does linger . . . and linger . . . . But not here, not in the Piedmont.  I'm not sure we're even going to have snow this year.  The mountains yes.  The family has already gone skiing.  Unless we're in for a surprise, in my neck of the woods (literally) we won't be tobogganing.  Even so I like the quote: 

"Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments, embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour."

We can still gather pine cones to scent the house, still nurse the plants through the season, still enjoy the fresh air and warm couch, the hearty meals and early nights.  The sun is still setting early.  Winter can be the most soul-enriching time of year, can't it?  A bit of hibernation, a hot bath, a fire.

When I was a kid and put on my grey wool duffel coat the dog knew it was time for an outdoor romp.  She could stay out as long as I could.  

What parts of winter make you feel most alive and present in the moment? The quiet indoor life?  The exuberant outdoor life?  Some people say, don't simply endure winter . . . embrace it.  I'm for that.  Heading outdoors for a healthy walk.  Taking advantage of a bright day.  Today is one of those days.  Temperature around 34⁰F but sun streaming in all the windows.  This morning Mr. Wiggles picked this spot to warm his bones .  See the little fur blob on the rug? 

I'm discovering that winter can be incredibly soothing.  Being in the crisp air, or the drizzly cold air, keeps us in the now and helps relieve stress, doesn't it?  Keeping warm or dry concentrates our attention.  We can't ruminate or indulge those unhelpful thoughts when our goal is keeping that beanie on. Or on a sunny weekend when I'm clearing brush and avoiding tripping on rock outcroppings--any other worry disappears. Cold can clear our minds. 

The trick seems to be to not huddle, not scrunch up.  That's true on city walks as well.  Moving our arms as we walk down the sidewalk, keeping our head up, letting our shoulders drop. People who aren't hunching seem to be having the best time. 

I want to relish these days of fat socks and bulky sweaters.  Here we have too few.  









 

IN THE ARMS OF THE WINTER SEA

Winter Sea 5 p.m. 2/5/2020, Pine Knoll Shores, NC

February 6, 2020
We continue at the beach in the arms of the winter sea.  It is dark now with the swells invisible except to the ear.  There they sing louder than thunder.  Sing or crash, more like it.  More like cacophony. Coming from all sides.  The ocean is not soothing tonight.  Bundled up we can sit on the deck and listen.  We're not close enough to feel the spray.  There's a storm coming.  

Earlier today there was no delineation between sand, sea and sky.  A canvas of unpolished pearl.  On days like today even the shore birds stay home.  We saw one lonely Eastern Willet feeding in the surf.  And a splayed pelican not as fortunate, having finished its cycle of life.  Nary a seagull circling nor a crab digging. Everything sheltered. Only surfers who in fact looked like pelicans crouched on their boards as they were and out where the birds usually bob.    


February 7, 2020
It's not just the ocean that's different everyday.  All of nature is.  We never awaken to the same morning as the one before.  Today the froth settled on the sand and at my feet. The wind had brought it in.  
 

Winter Sea 8 a.m. 2/7/2020

A strong wind and red flag, whipping in a brief and sudden moment of clear sky. High Hazard.

I was pelted by sand as I walked.  It's still in my pores hours later.  Poor Mr. Wiggles lifting his leg to pee was blown over.  Embarrassed he tried again and then gave up and squatted.

I thought of the poem:

for whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it's always our self we find in the sea.

E.E.Cummings (1894-1962)

Our house at home has lost power twice this week.  It's without power now.  A good week to have missed.  The wind has been strong enough to close schools; not safe for those who walk, between classes or to and from school.  Imagine if the little ones blew over like Mr. Wiggles! But not hurricane-force winds, not like the Fall.  We can still enjoy the bit of chaos it brings.  Our granddaughter and her dad are spending their off-day together. 

So this has been a lovely winter break. In Mary Oliver's poem about "Winter" she writes, "in this world I am as rich / as I need to be."  That's how I feel.

YOU COUNT

There's a writing prompt in that magazine I like, Bella Grace.  You can word search Bella Grace in this blog--everything about the magazine is rewarding. The prompt is a bit different:  "What is your favorite spot in your house and why?"  @ dakota, @sweetgirl and @ophelia all answer.  I'm interested that @dakota's favorite spot is her window seat with the lambswool throw on it where she has seen the most falling stars.  Because I have a lambswool throw I brought back from Keswick, a town in the Lake District, UK where some friends live.  I love that throw!  And falling stars . . . who doesn't love those? 

Another prompt, your favorite book and why:  I'm interested that @rainmama's favorite book is This I Know by Susannah Conway because I too have waded through grief and sometimes need to reset. Perhaps that's a book for me to read too.

Readers are invited to respond to the query, "What might the world never understand about you?" This provokes wonderful introspection, doesn't it? Many of us with a bit of thought have a secret self at our core, a characteristic that is ours alone.  Maybe it's, "I'm truly myself when I'm singing."  Or dancing.  When I'm alone or praying.  Or I'm creating, writing or you fill-in-the-blank.  Or how about this:  

I'LL NEVER FIT IN.

THAT'S ONE OF MY BEST QUALITIES.

   Terri Willingham  

Isn't that nice?  I snipped it from Bella Grace to make this collage.  

Another Bella Grace prompt encourages readers to rethink gratitude by contemplating small things.  So many good responses.  Grateful for:

the chickadees who visit my feeder

sharing silence

watching my nephew play

seeing the sun catch the mirror on my mantle

the feel of my local bookstore

the group texts I share with my friends

the first brush of morning sunlight in my bedroom

holding hands with my husband

    . . . 

Yes me too for so many of these, especially holding hands after such a long marriage.  We do that a lot. 

So what is it about Bella Grace?  What is it about inspirational quotes?  Why do they sync with mindfulness and other good things that remind us who we want to be?  I think it's a simple two-word premise:  YOU COUNT.  It's what we need to remember.  What we like counts.  Who we are counts.  We count to our friends, to our families, to our colleagues,  and even to the strangers with whom we share a simple comment while walking the dog.  We count most of all to God.  A calming, peaceful thought that I am grateful for today.  Nina Naomi

 

AFTER ALL, THE SUN SETS AND THE MOON RISES EVERYWHERE

Everything about this week is good.  How many weeks can we say that?  We made it to the beach on Thursday where the air is clear and cold.  Hats, hand-warmers, down jacket.  We let Mr. Wiggles off leash and he behaved, running in circles while a much bigger dog played Frisbee catch. No barking. Very good behavior indeed. 


Then as soon as the sun set orange and yellow and fat, dropping right into the ocean, we saw the moon rise and Venus popped out.  The moon rose and by 11 p.m. when we took Mr. Wiggles out for his last walk before bed, it was very very bright, in its Waxing Crescent Phase.  Low and oversized, sitting right at the end of the street, it was 32.5% illuminated and seemed to grow brighter as we watched.  The air fresh and 35ºF, deserted street, moon low and huge, not a super moon but could have been--that big. Dark sky. Bright stars.  

Then yesterday gray and today grayer still, a peaceful color.  The ocean looking like steel, varying from steel to charcoal with the sky only a shade paler.  Yet a sharp delineation between water and sky.  No sunset or moon rise tonight.  A chill in the air all day.

I bet you have a favorite place near water.  Mine is the ocean but lakes and boathouses are wonderful, so are rivers and ponds. Canals might be the most peaceful of all.

Any water feature really. All seasons.  Pools and other places to jump in when the weather is right.  Or to bundle up and walk beside on days like today.  We have a creek at home in our woods that only rushes when it pours but in the dark you can hear it spreading beyond its rocky bed toward the deck (not the best site for a house probably . . .).  I love that sound too. 

So a good week.  I haven't wanted a single do-over.  Not that they exist anyway!  A bit of free time, a special place . . . it doesn't take much.  Something to savor and enjoy moment by moment.  I think this meditation class is awakening my appreciation of the present.  Here's hoping for a good week for all of us.  After all, the sun sets and the moon rises everywhere.  Nina Naomi