I am not prepared to write a post this morning, mostly because I’m still sick, but unlike Bonnie, I can sit up. And, unfortunately, sitting up is necessary in order to type, at least on a keyboard.
Considering my already packed morning, I can only say, sorry, but we aren’t posting this week.
Sunday at church, one of the ladies mentioned gratitude journals. Now I’d heard of them but wasn’t exactly sure how you’re supposed to utilize them. She mentioned the idea was to list three things each day, for a month, that you’re grateful for.
Considering November (the month of gratitude) starts this week I thought she was trying to encourage us to keep such a journal between now and Thanksgiving.
But then she changed the subject.
She started asking others how they felt when they did acts of service. She was focusing on how good you feel when you do things to help, or lift, someone else.
It didn’t take long for me to begin wondering what acts of service had to do with gratitude journals. And I might have pondered that question further but by that point they’d began listing things they could do in service to others.
My mind immediately went to the big things people do but no one mentioned volunteering at a care center or animal shelter. Not one person mentioned reading to the blind or helping with a cleaning up a public space, or our church building. Not one big grand act of service even though I’m sure all of them could come up with some.
I could come up with a long list of things they could have listed but instead of thinking about what those might be, I focused on the things they were mentioning.
Things like smiling or saying hi to someone. Calling a friend, just to talk. Sending a card or note to someone. Actively listening when someone wants to talk to you.
Things you can do every single day.
Things that are small, and easy to do.
Things that don’t come with fan fair or awards but can seriously brighten someone else’s day. It wasn’t a list of services rendered so much as it was list of kindnesses given.
Finally, I was wondering again why she’d mentioned gratitude journals than went off on the tangent of acts of service, or kindness.
The conversation itself wasn’t very long, probably about ten minutes, but it was only at the end that she finally said why she’d mentioned the gratitude journals.
She wondered, if possibly, instead of focusing on what you are grateful for in a gratitude journal, if perhaps we could focus on our three acts of service/kindness each day. Not only what they were, but how they made us feel.
So, I’ve been contemplating what she said since then.
Since, in the U.S. we celebrate Thanksgiving in November, it’d be an obvious time to keep a gratitude journal. But December comes right after November.
December, when we celebrate the birth of Christ.
A time when we are often asked to contemplate what gift we can give Christ for his birthday. The most often mentioned gift to give Christ is our acts of service/kindness.
Now this lady was talking about doing a kindness log rather than a gratitude journal, but I’ve been thinking about something a bit different.
You see, science has shown that being grateful increases your happiness just as being kind increases your happiness.
So, wouldn’t expressing your gratitude AND showing kindness work together to increase your happiness?
I mean we could just focus on gratitude in November and kindness in December, but what if we did both, each month?
What if, for two whole months, we worked on showing three acts of kindness to others every day? And what if while we also thought about three things we were grateful for?
How much happier would we each be for being so grateful, and for showing such kindness? How much happiness could we each spread out into the world by doing this?
Me personally, I probably won’t write down, or even track anything, but I think just making the effort to show kindness, and expressing my gratitude daily would be just as effective.
But mostly I’ve been thinking about service/kindness is a very simple thing. As simple as smiling. Just smiling.
As I say at the end of all my posts, “Smile. Make the day a brighter day.”
I’m not asking you to keep a gratitude journal, or a kindness log, or even both. Any of which would be a good thing to do. But I think contemplating on what we are grateful for and showing our gratitude through service/kindness to others would be a way to lift not only our spirits, but those of the people around us too.
So, all I’m asking is be mindful of your gratitude and the kindness you give.
Smile. Make the day a brighter day.
I am on the spectrum, as such I have always had trouble when
other people get facts wrong. (I have been berated often for correcting people
and can think of once or twice when I had to bite my tongue at church because
someone got a Bible fact wrong.)
That said, I refuse to bite my
tongue this time.
Lately, I’ve seen a ton of posts
about how kids were allowed to roam all over town in the 60s, 70s, and the 80s,
and didn’t have to be home until the streetlights came on. Um, the 60s and 70s
absolutely, but not the 80s. By the 80s there was too many child abductions,
too many child murders.
I know this because I lived it.
Did I wander around the neighborhood
and even the town until dark? Heck, considering how soon it gets dark around
here during the fall and winter, I stayed out until after dark! I mean what kind
of kid wants to call it a night at 4:30 or 5 in the evening if they don’t have
to? And we didn’t have to.
Admittedly a lot of our friends did,
but most of them had stay-at-home moms fixing meals they were expected to show
up for and eat. But back in the early 70s, the number of single moms was
clearly the minority in the neighborhood.
By 1975, when the oldest of our half
brothers was born, single moms had become common enough that the term latchkey
children came into use and school districts all around the country were
instituting after school programs to “help” those single moms and eliminate those
latchkey children.
Konnie and I, as well as our older sister
and the oldest of our brothers (the only full brother) were all latchkey children.
Ben never was.
Our youngest brother came along in
79 and our oldest niece came in 80, and neither of them were ever left without
supervision because long before they came along the news was full of stories of
kids being abducted, abused, and murdered.
Actually, the last time I went trick
or treating as a child was 1973. And even then, that year there were warnings against
kids entering homes of people they didn’t know. (We were told not to enter any stranger’s
homes, but we were not told to only go to the homes of people we knew well.)
And still the news after Halloween was of kids finding razor blades or needles in
their apples.
When Halloween 1974 came some
nutcase has threatened to poison candy all over the country, and most people
found alternatives to going door to door as well as insisted on giving out only
individually wrapped store bought candy.
Nothing homemade and no fresh or
candied apples.
Also, hospitals were allowing kids
to bring their loot in to have it X-rayed for metal, while parents were told to
inspect all pieces of candy for damage to the wrapper, and throw out anything
with damaged wrappers.
The world had become a scary place
for kids. That was sure, but the 80s had gotten worse. By 1981, I went with our
stepmother (I think Konnie went too) to the local elementary school to get
McGruff Identikits for Ben, Dan, and Patty and fill them out. That’s how bad
the child abduction problem was. Schools were giving out special kits to store
a current picture, description, and even a lock of hair of each child. They also had fingerprinting, which is why the little ones went with us.
So, I promise that kids were not
allowed to wander the neighborhood unsupervised in the 80s, at least not like when
we were younger.
I mean I remember at 12 riding my
bike across town, entering the BAR where our mother worked, and got some cash
off her then went to the theater up the street and watched a movie that gave me
nightmares for weeks. All by myself.
Actually, that was only about
halfway across town, I more often road all the way to the pool, which was clear
across town.
From when we were 12 on, I don’t
remember once having a babysitter, and well, even before that, we played
outside with the babysitter’s boys until well after dark most nights, and only
part of the time was their daddy playing with us when we were out there.
Today, a 12 year old wouldn’t be allowed
to go trick or treating without adult supervision. In 1973 the oldest kid in
our group was 12, and the youngest was like 7, and yet we went without adult
supervision.
So, I promise, kids did not get to
wander free in the 80s, at least not as free as we wandered in the 70s.
Anyway, happy writing everyone.
Somehow, for some reason this morning two alarms went off at about the same time and woke me up. Despite only going to bed about four hours before this event, I managed to realize one of those alarms was mine. We both managed to turn ours off and promptly laid back down.
I then contemplated why my alarm went off so early in the morning. I never get up before the sun. The only time I get up so clearly before the sun is on Wednesday.
Okay, so I nearly bolt out of bed realizing it’s Wednesday.
Then I remembered I’d done the post last week which would normally mean it was not my turn to write the post. Okay, I rolled over and considered going back to sleep.
Before I could even get comfortable I remembered a conversation I had with Bonnie a few days ago. Bonnie had explained she was not looking forward to coming up with a post today.
The thing is I’d actually looked at my calendar, and I knew one thing.
This is my scheduled week to post.
Between my own illnesses and a couple of other hiccups, I’d only posted once last month. One week we had no post at all and the week before last Bonnie had covered for me. Last week was me making up for that, but this week was still my normally scheduled week.
I was planning on doing the post today. I’d even been thinking of some ideas for it.
So, here I was at literally O’ dark-thirty in the morning realizing that I had not prepped anything, nor had I managed to formulate any solid ideas for a post.
AND to top matters off, I had not gotten to bed at a decent hour two nights in a row.
Yesterday, I had just ignored all household activity until I woke up on my own, well after ten in the morning. And while I’d gotten to bed sooner last night, it still meant I’d gotten less than five hours of sleep. As a rule, I need at least six hours of sleep to manage.
Had I not promised Bonnie I’d cover this week, I may have stayed in bed for a couple of more hours.
I reluctantly got up and pulled out my computer trying to get my sleep deprived brain to remember anything I’d been thinking about writing on this week.
Anything.
Nothing is coming to me so I altered to trying to remember anything funny that happened this past week.
Yes, I remember some laughs. Several in fact. What my sleepy brain cannot seem to latch onto is exactly what had us laughing.
At the moment, all I can remember is my son telling me a joke. One that cracked up both my daughter and I immediately, but my son had to explain what was so funny to my husband.
So right now, the only thing I can remember is it wasn’t as funny when you have to explain it.
Once I had exhausted that idea, I remembered all the drama around who exactly needed the car when and who was taking who to wherever they were going. This last one because my son does not have a driver’s license yet. But the main issue is that the one car makes it difficult for anyone to schedule appointments.
As the mom of the household, I do attempt to track everyone’s appointments and therefore schedule who needs the car when and for how long. The issue is things tend to come up last minute. Some of those last-minute things mess up what was already a tight schedule.
Take yesterday for example.
On Tuesdays my husband has as many has five scheduled appointments, most of which require the car. When I realized this, I told my kids not to make Tuesday appointments only to realize that my daughter already had an appointment this Tuesday (yesterday).
Fortunately, her appointment was neatly between what my husband had in the morning and what he had in the afternoon. So, no problem. Then my husband got called to add something to his day which meant adding something to my daughter’s day so that she could have the car for her appointment.
I thought we had everything figured out and covered than my daughter called to tell me the car had died. It would not even turn over. By the time we got roadside assistance to her my husband had already left, via Uber, for his afternoon appointment.
She got home in time to cook dinner, and he got home after we’d already eaten. They both had a long day.
Last week it was my grandchild. This week I’m wishing a happy birthday to her mother, my oldest.
Smile. Make the day a brighter day.
I have not posted in a month. Actually, over a month. My last post was September 3rd.
I was supposed to do the post on September 17th but woke up sick. (You should have heard me, I was all congested.) Bonnie, had a migraine, so neither one of us was able to get a post up. She managed her post on the September 24th, but last week, when I should have done the post, I simply could not do it. I tried to write something the night before but wasn’t getting anywhere so I finally went to bed. I woke up with a major headache, still had a sleeping muse, and it was too late to get it up on time anyway. I had, however, warned Bonnie and she got something up this time.
Well, since she did the post for me, I figured I’d have to do the post for her. And I felt better the next day, so assumed I’d be able to figure something out.
Then Friday morning I woke up feeling somewhat queasy but not enough so to worry me. So, about an hour later, I was not in the least bit prepared to suddenly be seized by a gagging, and coughing, fit. As hard as I was coughing, I could not move to the bathroom nor call for help.
Quite fortunately for me, my daughter heard me coughing. However, she assumed all that coughing was from an asthma attack. Which was a valid assumption since I do cough like that when I’m having an attack.
I managed to gasp out just enough to tell her this attack wasn’t because of my lungs, but my stomach.
Needless to say, a bowl did not arrive quick enough.
My bedding, my clothes, and I all needed washed. Fortunately, I only had to deal with the last one. My dear husband managed the rest.
Saturday I thought I was doing fine again. Sunday and Monday were not fine. I’m withholding any further judgement until I’ve been fine for more than two days.
Now my husband and son are both mentioning symptoms. Thankfully, I’m the only one who mad a mess. (So far, anyway. For the moment none of them have been sick enough to lose it.)
And just to make things even harder, my daughter is experiencing a fibromyalgia flair, and her period, which always gives her migraines.
My house has all but come to a standstill.
My daughter managed her normal Friday and Saturday shopping trips, but wasn’t able to find everything, so a third trip is in order, and she does not have the energy for it. Neither do I.
And it’s still not stuff we can generally find at our two normal stores so we’re going to have to try for all three stores this coming weekend. Thankfully, by Friday she should be over her period (and headaches). If her flair is over and she doesn’t get this bug, we should be good.
And seriously, the only time anyone has left the house since Friday was for doctor’s appointments. (This last weekend was General Conference, so all our church meetings were online.)
And with everyone not feeling well, cooking has been minimal, and the only chores getting done are the ones that simply cannot be put off. (Like feeding the fur family members and doing the dishes. I think towels got washed too.)
By Sunday, I thought things were doing better until I realized I had a doctor’s appointment Monday morning, and I could not guarantee I’d be back before my husband had to go to his appointment that morning. Since our daughter (the only other licensed driver) wasn’t up to chauffeuring us, I did the most logical thing. I called Paratransit. When I got home it was after my husband’s appointment time, but he was still home.
His provider called in sick and had to reschedule, but after I’d left for my appointment. Which annoyed me because riding on the bus tripled my neck pain to the point I could not turn my head at all. On top of still feeling a bit sick (no, not losing it), it didn’t help.
Then Tuesday, Bonnie told me she could not come up with another post this week.
Fair. I already knew I should do it under the circumstances.
Problem.
My muse is still not cooperating. Probably because I have a headache and my neck still hurts, though not as bad as on Monday.
So, now I’ve listed all my excuses for not writing and it’s just going to have to suffice for a post this week, because I’m not fighting it anymore.
Hopefully, I’ll feel better next week.
Oh, one special little girl turns 4 Saturday and I’m sad I can’t be with her to celebrate.
Smile. Make the day a brighter day.
