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What do you do when you can’t do what you do?

AWBM Blog Post #15 Mandala

Is it curtains for the makers at
A WEE BIT MORE?

[And, what will Freddy do? Read on, dear friends, read on.]

So-o-o-o dramatical .... yeesh 

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What do you do when you can’t do what you do?

When brushing your teeth causes pain,
something's gotta change

A secretary in my firm asked me last month, “Do you ever look in the mirror and say, ‘who are you?’” We both laughed but I think after a certain age it’s inevitable, you just look a bit different.

The hope is: the physical changes we see in the mirror add character. The aspiration is: for youth to want to look like us, and acknowledge that we know what we’re doing, and we’ve got it all together—by now—otherwise, what is the point?

A few weeks ago I rewatched an old episode of Iyanla, Fix My Life, about 6 good girlfriends who were estranged, and how Iyanla brought them awareness and a sense of reconnection which made for great TV. What I envied as I watched it the first time and still feel to this day, is the end of the episode when the majority, if not all of the participants, have grown and are wiser and receptive to growing their relationships. That’s a great thing to witness, indeed, but this particular episode was unique, as it contained something so valuable and what I wish I could give to my grandbabies: she invited all of the ladies to a ritual with their Elders, women in various stages of life, older than the ladies themselves, to impart words of wisdom to them before their departure from what Iyanla calls the healing process, where they go to “do their work.” The Elders were seated in a circle and each friend was able to go to each Elder for a touch of benevolent grace.

I want to reiterate their title, they are the Elders, and I wish I could benefit from such astute, clear-sightedness in my life. I would love to kneel at the feet of women older and oh, so much wiser, who’ve navigated years on this Earth and inevitably have wisdom to lay upon me. It was lovely to see Iyanla herself speak of and take advantage of the opportunity to kneel at their feet as well, and it was a testament to the fact that we all have Elders who have circumspection, acumen and understanding that we should be clamoring to hear, and eager to have the opportunity, in turn, to pass on to those younger than ourselves.

I can’t wait.
I can’t wait.
I can’t wait.

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Have I Done Too Much?

This past few weeks have been painful, as my wrists, my moneymakers in all things, have begun to burn and ache from overuse, again. My right wrist, specifically has been throbbing for 7 days now, and that’s S-C-A-R-Y. I use it at my Thoroughly Exhausting 9-5 (actually 8-5, but who’s counting?) Job, and during both morning and afternoon commutes, then during the evening. I mean, they both get a lot of wear, and I know it’s time to change gears. I literally did not make anything for at least 3 days before the pain subsided enough to resume … I mean, I couldn’t not make something for any longer, but the pain is still with me and I’m not sure what to do.

I typically have back pain on a daily, and I have those other pains I’ve mentioned in previous posts requiring my use of a cane (yikes), but now I will have both pains hitting me at once, and coming from so many directions, during my morning and evening commutes, most likely because I’m doing the same repetitive motions over and over and over again, using the same muscles, but perhaps I’m being shown another lesson and

I need to
pay attention

I’m not sure of what’s going on, but I wish whatever it is was clear to me and I could say, definitively, that the influx of symptoms and pain are caused by “x, y and z.” That’s what I wish for, and as much as I see that happening, I think I can hear rumbling from above, you know, from that old saying:

We make plans
and God laughs

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Sometimes, you don’t have to UNDERSTAND it, you just have to DO IT

'Cause I’m the Mommy, that’s why.
I don’t have to explain myself to you.
I’m the Captain and I run this ship, you're just the crew.

and, a favorite:
If you don’t stop testing me!


I’m sure 99.9% of you reading are familiar with at least one of these phrases, because you’ve heard it for quite some time, and you’ve probably even said it, one—or all of the above—quite often as well. As a parent, we all know that children and family, in general, can test your strength, nerves and patience to the utmost and there’s nothing we can do about it … or can we?

Trying to instill independence, values and virtues in small little ones is hard, and the faster they grow, the less rope you have to hold onto, until one day, it slips from your fingers and you have to just let ‘em fly, hoping they all land on their feet.

So, what do we do with the ones that don’t? The ones that fall and hurt themselves, but stay down? They don’t bounce back up to fight another fight. They just lay there and cry, reaching a hand up but you ignore it and look back at them, and think, “What am I going to do? How do I teach them how to get up and brush themselves off when they don’t understand that that’s the next step they have to take, and they have to take it

alone?

I won’t always be there for them, so I have to start now, and they have to understand that to make it, you have to be strong, you have to be able to get up and brush off the dirt, smile, and keep on moving on. How do I do that when he/she looks so pitiful and I’m about to cry, too? 

Tough Love Is Often Harder
On The One Serving It Than
The One Being Served

Might make that my next license plate, on my next bicycle bumper. Or perhaps this one, from one of my Words With Friends 2 opponents: it still cracks me up, and that makes my day. I’d give him or her credit, but I don’t know their name:

AWBM_Rum

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For my listeners, the posted image is of 4 runners: 3 running in the background and 1 larger runner, hands on knees and hunched over, in the foreground. Caption?

I thought they said RUM

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You're probably wondering why I posted this and the only reason is that it brings me joy, and I thought you'd like some joy today, too. :)

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But Before I Go

 If You Don’t Stand for Something,
You’ll Fall for Anything

Here's a nice breakdown, from the Quote Investigator (I'd never even heard of such a person until I researched this article) of who said it, in every iteration known to mankind; there were so many that I picked the one I resonated with, but if you'd like to know the others, just click here to read the investigator's findings: a dreadful amount of people have said this quote ... for real ... sorry, I couldn't help myself.

Anyhoo, back to the phrase at hand ...

I'd like to get my hands on an ex-boyfriend who thought it'd be "fun" to go see Friday the 13th, the Jason movie ... although he wasn't the "original," he's the reason certain people don't go camping. I had nightmares for weeks and used to wake up in a sweat thinking someone was under my bed ... I used to combat that by sticking stuff under my bed, so there'd be no room for a person. Stuff like boxes and drawers.  I still have my drawers, not the kind you wear, silly, the kind you put your nicely handcrafted AWBM stuff in. Shameless, aren't I?

Anyway ... I was talking about the beginning of the slasher flicks, and the original movie, the first one, the one before "someone" (akin to the ever-present "they," perhaps?) decided—and everybody else jumped on the same bandwagon—that rehashing someone else's movie or TV show or book or vaudeville show, or your OWN show, was a clever idea, to wit:

The Mother:
Hey, wasn't that scene like the one last week ...?

The Producer:
[dismissively] Similar, but the public doesn't notice things like that.

Mother's 7-year-old Little Boy:
They did that play last week, except they wore different costumes.

Mother's 5-year-old Little Girl:
Yeah, it's the same story. 

BTW, the "certain people" I refer to above
are scaredy-cats, like moi.

And that leads me to

I'm sad to say that I just found out the fabulous Doris Day passed away this May at 97 years old. Ninety-seven years ... that definitely makes her an Elder of the highest order and I wish I could have knelt at her feet to learn as much wisdom as I know she possessed. I adored her singing and all of her movies were simply amazing. I was and will always be, a loving fan. Calamity Jane is one of my all time favorites and I've been known to sing Secret Love in the shower. R.I.P., Ms. D. You will be missed.

Doris Day 1922-2019

 

Postscript

Over the past 3 weeks I've been doing what I could to get my mind off of Life, the stuff that brings pain, and the mind numbing thing that is posting my first listing on Amazon. Everything seems to hinge on another thing, and it's quite similar to what I think losing one's mind feels like: I can't get past one checkpoint because I haven't completed this other thing I was asked to do, but I can't do that until I do this, or is it can't do this until I do that? No matter, I keep going in circles. If I were a dog, I'd be chasing my tail. If I were a cat, I'd be chuckling at the idiot over there running in circles, chasing her tail. And, if I were a frog, I'd be relaxing in the bed watching I Love Lucy, 'cause errybody else has left the building. Ergo, my latest Catch-22 and 6 Degrees of Separation, all rolled into one.

Post-Postscript

One last thing I need to mention, I've decided that in this journey of mine to clean up and clear out my life, that has been ongoing since 2015, I need to also stop the painful monitoring of certain things, like the number of emails I have and the  calories I've burned, and other things I write down, DAILY. That has and will stop. I'm not ditching all of that data, but I will limit my input to weekly. I think that's a better way for me to stop the madness that is my obsession with notetaking and highlighting the Bits & Bobs of pieces of my life that even I have a hard time understanding.

I tried keeping a journal years ago and that wasn't me then, and most likely isn't me now, because I had to have it just so, and the writing had to be on point or I'd write it again, and it had to be pretty and tidy and wrapped up in a bow. Not me. So-o-o not me. At least not me now. I've grown and I'm on the downswing, past that middle hump, and moving in the opposite direction, so my priorities have changed and I no longer obsess over E-V-E-R-Y-THANG. I can't 'cause I don't have that kind of time. It's now about simplifying, and while I still want a place for everything and everything in it's place, I also need to weed out the things that no longer bring me joy and make me smile and keep me sane. Otherwise, I'd still be running in circles chasing my tail and listening to what sounds like laughter in the far corner.

Remind me to tell you 'bout the time I thought I was too grown for stuffed animals and gave away a treasure. It's called When Harry Met Sandi.

Until we meet again:

keep your noses clean
your eyes open and
your head lifted. 

Ciao.

AWBM Blog Post #15 | 9 September 2019

 

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