Attitude of Gratitude

I recently read an article about the effects of having a grateful attitude.  It was an article about scientifically proven benefits of gratitude. Apparently it improves not only our emotional health but also our physical health. A few things mentioned were it makes us happier, improves our moods, increases our resilience, improves our self-esteem.  It also can improve sleep, helps reduce pain, strengthens our immune system, and lowers stress. These are only a few of the things the article mentioned as positive effects of a grateful attitude. At times it tends to be a little difficult to see the sunny side up. Especially when many things get thrown at you during the day and you get bogged down with all the to-do’s and the don’t do’s and the don’t have time to do’s.  So how can we have an attitude of gratitude? I think you have to make it a habit. Like we have to make working out a habit, or eating healthy a habit. And for anything to become a habit we must do them for an extended period of time. We must practice it every day. It might be as simple as being grateful for a cup of coffee or tea in your hand, or the wonderful feeling of fur between your fingers as you scratch your little Fido’s face.  I believe the things or people or moments that bring the biggest joy are the little ones that sometimes might go unnoticed. I challenge you to join me in a month of jotting down a few things you are grateful for each day. I have a journal specifically for this task, because I tend to jump at any opportunity to buy a new journal, and I may or may not have bought some new pens for this month of gratitude. Whether it is in a journal, or in your planner, or a notecard.  And whether you jot down your gratitudes at the end of a long day, the beginning of a new day, or somewhere in between, let’s do it. And then let me know how you feel at the end of the month.  

Here is a list to start my attitude of gratitude:

• Skinny Vanilla lattes
• The first sip of coffee in the morning
• Writer’s group and kindred spirits
• The freshness of a new day with new possibilities
• My 95 year old grandmother’s young spirit
• My mother continuing to mother me even after I am a mother of my own.
• My daughter’s kind heart
• My son’s sincere and reflective mind
• Reminders on my phone because I have a million and one things on my mind at all times
• My silky pillow after a long day
• Music, any, all kinds
• Giggles during pedicures (not mine but my daughter’s)
• The determination on my son’s face before the snap of the football
• Friends who are family
• Pink dresses and strappy heels
• Walking into church on Sunday morning
• Walking out of church filled with peace on Sunday morning
• Curling up with my fuzzy blanket to watch a movie or read a good book
• The smell of the library
• My grandma’s house, and the stories it holds
• That I am exhausted at the end of the day because it means I tried my best. I gave all I had.
• That I carry hope within me so that even on the darkest of days, I still feel the sun’s rays even when I can’t see them. 

Changes and Constants by Carolyn

My family reunion was yesterday. My mother's family has, as long as I can remember, held a reunion each summer. Some aspects remain constant through the years, some aspects change, much like everything else in our lives. My mother was one of seven children; I am one of 23 first-cousins. We cousins are now in our forties, fifties, or sixties. Most of us are parents and some of us are grandparents, so two more generations have been added to the fray.

One of the best things that happened yesterday was the gift one of my cousins gave me of a thumb drive full of photos from the past several reunions. Such a treasure! As I looked through the photos, I was struck by the changes that have happened over the last few years, as well as the things that have endured.

Through the years, we have always had our reunions at low-cost venues. We are not the kind of family that books whole floors at swanky hotels or travels to exotic locations or swarms onto a cruise ship en masse. We tend to hold our reunions in the backyards of family members or around picnic tables at public parks. This has not changed. The duration of the reunions has changed, though: in my youth, we spent an entire weekend at our reunions, often at Bastrop State Park. We rented cabins and communed together for a couple of days. The kids swam and walked through the woods and biked on the trails. The grownups played dominoes and cards and horseshoes. We all chatted and laughed and forged family bonds. These days, our reunions only last one afternoon. Our lives seem to have gotten busier and busier, and there are often many family members who cannot attend our gatherings.

We have always eaten well at our family reunions. We are not the sort of people to have our food catered - it is always good ol' home cooking, nothing fancy, but always abundant and delicious. There have always been, and probably always will be, several different casseroles and favorites such as potato salad, baked beans, fried chicken, and ham. And the desserts . . . banana pudding, lemon meringue pie, chocolate cake. It all tastes like home. And we always say grace before the meal. Even if our family members never pray in their private lives, or only enter a church to attend a wedding or a funeral, we all join in giving thanks for our food and our fellowship. We honor the heritage of our ancestors' strong Christian faith. (This year, however, I missed the prayer because my three-year-old grandson, Jude, got tired of waiting for everyone to gather around. He pulled me out of the circle by the hand and led me to his full plate waiting on the table. I feel somewhat less guilty because we did sing the "Thank You, Jesus" song he has learned in Mothers' Day Out together.)

As time has gone on, we have lost many of our family members. My grandparents, my mother, two of her sisters, and three of my cousins have passed away, as well as my husband, my brother-in-law, and three uncles by marriage. We mourn together over those we have lost. We tell stories about the good memories we have of them, and laugh together over silly things. We cry, but we also smile because there are almost always new babies making their debut at one of the reunions. (Our newest family member this year was my granddaughter, Malin. It puffed me up a little bit to hear my relatives exclaim over how beautiful she is!) There is always an abundance of children. Some run around, wending their way through small clusters of their elders, looking for something to eat or something to amuse themselves. The teens lounge about looking bored. They have not yet learned to value the importance of family gatherings, especially with people they only see once a year. They don't realize that the stories we tell are their own history, their own inheritance.

I remember going to the family reunions every year with my mother when I was a child, a teenager, and a young woman. I remember taking my children to the reunions when they were babies, young boys, and teenagers. Now I am going to the family reunions with my grown sons, my daughter-in-law, and my own grandchildren. I am grateful that my boys will make the effort to go with me. They have come to understand how important that family connection is to me.

There is always lots of conversation at our gatherings. The older generation tells about what they remember of their parents and grandparents and growing up together. My generation reminisces about adventures as cousins together or catch up on whatever has changed in our lives since last year. We talk about the tragedies and the triumphs that befall our family members.

I am worried that, as the older generation passes on and my generation of cousins continues to age and lead their separate lives, and family members move farther away from central Texas, there will be no strong bond among the younger generations. The family connection will be stretched thinner and thinner. Our reunions will likely die down to a just a handful of people, and then down to something that only happened in the distant past. It is a melancholy thought; but for now, I cherish the bond that unites me to these beloved people. We are a family.

Problems I Have Caused Myself by Carolyn

When troubles occur in our lives, as they inevitably must, we moan and cry and carry on, wondering why this (whatever it is) has happened to us. It has been my considered opinion for quite a while now that there are four sources of our troubles in this world.

One, which I think is responsible for only a small portion of the trouble in each of our lives, is that sometimes God places us in positions or sends us circumstances that He has purposely designed to refine and develop us in some way. I don't presume to understand the details of all that, but my Bible assures me that it does happen, and is the result of His fatherly love for us.

The second cause of our trials, in my humble opinion, is that we live in a world full of imperfect people. Not only are our own bodies and minds and souls imperfect, but so are those of every single human being with whom we inhabit the Earth. I believe that this imperfection is the cause of a lot of our troubles. Car wrecks, disease, robberies, hangnails, financial scams - everything from genocide to someone going through the express checkout with too many groceries can be attributed to the "fallen-ness" of the bodies we inhabit and the people we share our world with. I don't think it does much good at all to obsess about this kind of trouble. Worrying about things outside your control only gives you wrinkles, a headache, and a grouchy outlook on life.

Third, I would name the natural world as the source of some of our problems. It seems you can't go a day without hearing about a flood, tornado, tsunami, earthquake, wildfire, or other natural disaster. I'm not sure if these natural disasters are becoming more common, or if we just hear about them more often in this era of global communication, but it is impossible to deny that we humans are almost totally at the mercy of Mother Nature. We like to think we are mighty, powerful, indestructible; but we are clearly no match for the excesses of wind, rain, snow, heat (or whatever) that the natural forces of our planet can conjure up to throw at us (literally and figuratively).

Lastly, and the real subject of of my rambling thoughts, is the fourth cause of the problems we encounter in our daily lives. Ourselves. I have come to believe, albeit reluctantly, that I am the cause of most of my own trials and tribulations. I have been pondering this for quite a while (I was recently accused of pondering rather too much), but it was brought home forcibly to me while I was taking a road trip a few weekends ago. I had set my GPS to lead me to the home address of a friend from many years ago (I didn't want to say an "old" friend!), even though I knew in general how to get to the area in which she lived. It was really just the last few miles of the trip for which I needed directions. As I drove, the computer-generated (male with a British accent) GPS voice kept insisting that I should take a route that I didn't want to take. He believed that he knew better than I did which way would be the best. Mile after mile he droned on, "Make a U-turn when possible." I declined to follow his instructions. As the trip went on, I became more and more irritated with him. I am embarrassed to admit that I even began arguing with him. "I will not make a U-turn! I don't want to go that way!" Finally it dawned on me that this irritation could have been avoided if I had gone as far as I could without setting the GPS, and then turned it on only as I got close to my destination. Idiot! (Sadly, this is not the first time I have done exactly this same thing.)

So, as that realization hit me, I began thinking that perhaps there were other instances in my life where my problems or troubles or irritations were of my own creation. As I drove, I began naming those situations aloud (it kept me awake as I drove, at least). The list grew quite lengthy. Undoubtedly, I could have driven cross-country and not have run out of examples of this phenomenon in my own life. Here are a few of the ones that came to mind as I drove (in no particular order):

• having no air conditioning in my car (still)
• running out of my prescriptions without refills available
• having a house full of chewed-on furniture, pillows, baseboards, shoes, eyeglasses, etc.
• needing to rake the discarded leaves from 40 trees in my backyard
• wearing shoes which I have forgotten give me blisters
• often having less in the bank than I should
• running out of clean underwear
• having to squeeze past all the junk in my garage to get into my car

I could go on . . . and on . . . and on, but that would just be depressing. I am especially sorry to say that I am apparently incapable of learning from my previous mistakes - some of my self-initiated problems have occurred more than once.

I would like to promise that my propensity for causing myself trouble will end forthwith. I would like to believe that. I live in the constant hope that at some point in my life I will become a real grownup - one who is capable and thoughtful and thorough. Unfortunately, it is looking less and less likely as I continue to grow older without becoming noticeably wiser.

-Carolyn

Perks of Being 50 (or 51)

I have never been afraid of aging.  I am blessed with great genes.  My grandmother passed away in her eighties with the smoothest skin one can imagine on someone of her age and my mother often confuses people when she doesn’t meet their expectation of what a woman her age should look like.  What I didn’t bargain for is the clarity and peace of conscience that has come my way, as I have gotten older.  Here are a few things I enjoy knowing, as I enter this stage of my life:

·         I cannot please everyone, all the time.  I want to.  It is the greatest pleasure of my life to bring joy to others, but it is not possible.  For one thing, if I were even able to do that, I would have to compromise at least some of my own convictions and therefore I would be a hypocrite.  For another, I cannot take on the task of satisfying other people’s expectations, some of which may be totally unreasonable; neither can I live another person’s tests.  All I can do is my best; to be kind, loving and compassionate, to listen and offer a helping hand.

·         Perfection is an unattainable destination, whereas, pursuing excellence is an exciting journey.  Striving for perfection causes anxiety and saps the energies required for moving forward, not just in me but in those around me as well.  It is such a burden to others when in the name of perfection I see the small defects and overlook the important big things in life.  But always trying to do my best, however short of target I may fall, and doing a little bit better each day, motivates me to show up and gives hope to me and to others. 

·        Women can have it all, but maybe not all at the same time.  I have had two careers so far, and enjoyed a fifteen-year stint as the mother of four, without having to work for pay.  It is never too late to start learning something new.  After a lifetime of keeping my nose in a book on a couch, I started running a little over two years ago.  I can now run up to six miles, and am hoping to someday soon run a half marathon.  I am definitely not competing with anyone except my own personal best. 

·        It is important to be conscious of the present in order to improve the future.  The real joy is experiencing this moment, with the family, at work or while serving others, without any expectations.  I raced through my youth, trying to do everything as quickly as possible.  I don’t regret anything, but I wish I had taken the time to enjoy the moments, and not been anxious to move on to the next thing.   Education, learning, life; these are not things to try and get them over with, but to savor and use as fuel to make every day a little better than the day before.

There are no short cuts in life and we learn what we have to learn when we have to learn it.  But, you don’t have to wait to be fifty to start enjoying these perks.

Change by Carolyn

My relationship with my mother was as close as close could be. We spent hours and hours in each other's company, never tiring. We thought alike, spoke alike, looked alike. I looked to her constantly for wisdom, understanding, and fellowship. Our worlds were on synchronous orbits.

My father, on the other hand, was unknown territory to me. He was on a path of his own, his orbit only occasionally intersecting with mine. Although bound by one of the deepest connections possible, we were not truly connected by inclination, proximity, or habit. We rarely saw each other. When we did, the time spent together was awkward, rife with those silences that occur when people are not quite sure what to talk about next.

My relationship with my mother is frozen in time. I will never know how it would have played out, how it might have ebbed and flowed with time, or deepened as we both aged.

My relationship with my father, however, has changed dramatically over the past few years. We now cross paths much more frequently than in the past - sometimes of necessity, sometimes by desire. We have a kind of symbiotic relationship: he depends on me for some things (like sewing), and I depend on him for other things (like fixing stuff). We take turns being the parent.

Although we are still a little wary of each other (he, afraid I will cry; me, afraid he will rant and rave), we talk together, laugh together. I have discovered he has a great sense of humor, something I never knew until the past few years. He still makes me crazy from time to time, but at least we are close enough now that he has the opportunity to make me crazy.

My father is a difficult man to completely like and admire, but I have now built a relationship with him based on affection (and, yes, duty). My relationship with my father will never be the same as the relationship I enjoyed with my mother. But my time with my mother is in the past, my time with my father is in the present - and the future.

-C