Where does this impulse come from? I'm wondering because I've gone through a spell in which I didn't write at all. I'm usually working on something--a speech, an essay, a story or even a poem. But lately, nothing. It's best done when I have a lot of energy, writing when I'm tired is not for me. If I have energy when I start, however, I can keep writing for hours and not feel tired. I spent some time carrying a little notebook and a pen to capture thoughts I might explore in writing. Lately they have mostly contained lists of tasks I need to do, grocery lists and other odds and ends. Not sure of this, but I don't know if a grocery list would prove a very interesting basis for writing an essay.
Let's take a look.There's a sleep diary the doc asked me to keep for two weeks to report the results of my newest prescription, intended to help me sleep. That would be number six, no seven, in the progression of pharmacological treatment. The diary indicates progress in sleep, so number seven's permanent now. I am now on to number eight, which is not expected to have any impact for the first three or four weeks, so no diary on this one.
But back to the notebook--a list of items to pick up at Lowe's for a project in my home office--stain, a few boards, shelf brackets and copies of the key to our front door (a couple of new locks I just installed). Hmm, not much inspiration for writing there.
Next up, a list of recipe items needed for making gingerbread men. A new Christmas tradition, Grandma and Mom go Christmas shopping, while Grandpa makes his famous gingerbread men with the grands. It turns out the grands are just old enough and competitive enough to take turns with the mixer, the rolling pin and the cookie cutters, of course. But these are not traditionalists. Each of them had to choose a different shape to cut out, so we wound up with only half a dozen gingerbread "men," and "women," the latter were added at grandma's insistence--granting equal time to the female grandchild, etc. However, neither of the grands would use the gingerbread characters irrespective of gender. So, when I got the occasional turn, i made that handful of gingerbreads. I was lucky the pumpkin cutouts didn't work, or we'd have some of those instead. It wore me out, but still not much writing material was there? A slice of life to be sure, but...
Back to the notebook, there are passwords, task lists (too many repeat items, of course), more shopping lists and no more ideas for writing, so I'm on my own. Ah, here's an old note--"Monday 10AM, Starbuck's." Coffee with a friend. I remembered that one without the note. Maybe there is something in that to inspire.
Well, it's a start, writing about not writing, but the grands are on their way over, so I'd better call it a day.
Saturday, November 30, 2013
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
Amused? Who Me? and Maybe Not Even My Feet
You might think your feet are designed for standing and walking, but there are scientists who believe we are really designed to walk on all fours, and not standing upright on two. This theory is often used to try to explain away the high incidence of lumbar and cervical injuries among humans. There are lots of theories as to why primates moved from quadrupedal to bipedal travel, including some who believed they found it less strenuous. Picture yourself walking around on all fours all day. I am sure I'd find it exhausting.
Anthropologists have recently found in treadmill studies measuring metabolic, kinematic and kinetic data that four out of five chimps used more or an equal amount of energy walking upright. The one using an equal amount of energy and the one using less shared skeletal characteristics of the hip and hind limb that allow for greater extension of the hind limb. Examining old fossil records, they noted the same in some early bipeds.
Which brings me to my recent experience in four different "amusement" parks in the Orlando, Florida. My experiences there led me to inquire into what "amusement" means "the state of being amused, entertained, or pleased. That didn't help much, it's a little like defining "park" as "a place where a park ranger hangs out." Really? Amusement is the state of being amused?
OK, so I moved on to amused, and the answer was not particularly credible--it was "to cause to laugh or smile by giving pleasure." By the time I had stood, walked and stood again for more than eight hours each day for four consecutive days, nothing could cause me to laugh or smile--about my legs or feet anyway. I only fully understood the situation when I ran across the archaic meaning of the word amuse (Archaic To delude or deceive.). Now I get it, we are deceived into believing that walking on two feet is what we evolved into (a higher state, at least assuming you are taller walking on two feet instead of four) so that we could get around using less energy. But, the fact is, we expend more or less the same amount of energy walking on two feet instead of four. We forsook walking on all fours (knuckle-dragging as some would say) just to be taller, I guess. We were likely deceived (amused?) into it. Today, I think we are being amused into believing that amusement parks are a place where we will laugh or smile all the day long.
Now, I don't consider myself old and feeble, I work out daily, attend yoga, pilates and personal training sessions, and I walk. I just don't do a lot of standing around, thus I was ill-prepared for an "amusement" park. Each day, after six hours or so standing in line or standing around waiting for others to finish their rides, I was "pining" for the pine bench. Pining means "to feel a lingering, often nostalgic desire." A perfectly accurate description of how I felt. I really, really wanted to sit down.
Which brings me to another gnawing resentment I began to harbor--I didn't care for all those people riding around on electric scooters. They'd ride up, park and hop off their vehicle spryly, ready to stand in a line, having passed many of those in line ahead of them, who moved aside--believing they were disabled in some way or they would not be on a scooter. But these people were not disabled, they were simply smarter than I am. They had probably been at "amusement" parks before, and learned they would be better off renting a nice little scooter than walking, standing, walking, sitting as I did. In fact, when they "sat" they sat on a padded seat, not a pine bench as I had whenever I sought rest. Speaking for my feet, I am not amused...
Anthropologists have recently found in treadmill studies measuring metabolic, kinematic and kinetic data that four out of five chimps used more or an equal amount of energy walking upright. The one using an equal amount of energy and the one using less shared skeletal characteristics of the hip and hind limb that allow for greater extension of the hind limb. Examining old fossil records, they noted the same in some early bipeds.
Which brings me to my recent experience in four different "amusement" parks in the Orlando, Florida. My experiences there led me to inquire into what "amusement" means "the state of being amused, entertained, or pleased. That didn't help much, it's a little like defining "park" as "a place where a park ranger hangs out." Really? Amusement is the state of being amused?
OK, so I moved on to amused, and the answer was not particularly credible--it was "to cause to laugh or smile by giving pleasure." By the time I had stood, walked and stood again for more than eight hours each day for four consecutive days, nothing could cause me to laugh or smile--about my legs or feet anyway. I only fully understood the situation when I ran across the archaic meaning of the word amuse (Archaic To delude or deceive.). Now I get it, we are deceived into believing that walking on two feet is what we evolved into (a higher state, at least assuming you are taller walking on two feet instead of four) so that we could get around using less energy. But, the fact is, we expend more or less the same amount of energy walking on two feet instead of four. We forsook walking on all fours (knuckle-dragging as some would say) just to be taller, I guess. We were likely deceived (amused?) into it. Today, I think we are being amused into believing that amusement parks are a place where we will laugh or smile all the day long.
Now, I don't consider myself old and feeble, I work out daily, attend yoga, pilates and personal training sessions, and I walk. I just don't do a lot of standing around, thus I was ill-prepared for an "amusement" park. Each day, after six hours or so standing in line or standing around waiting for others to finish their rides, I was "pining" for the pine bench. Pining means "to feel a lingering, often nostalgic desire." A perfectly accurate description of how I felt. I really, really wanted to sit down.
Which brings me to another gnawing resentment I began to harbor--I didn't care for all those people riding around on electric scooters. They'd ride up, park and hop off their vehicle spryly, ready to stand in a line, having passed many of those in line ahead of them, who moved aside--believing they were disabled in some way or they would not be on a scooter. But these people were not disabled, they were simply smarter than I am. They had probably been at "amusement" parks before, and learned they would be better off renting a nice little scooter than walking, standing, walking, sitting as I did. In fact, when they "sat" they sat on a padded seat, not a pine bench as I had whenever I sought rest. Speaking for my feet, I am not amused...
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Thinking About What Makes Friends
I've been thinking about friends again this week. How rare they can be, how forgiving they have to be if your are not to lose them.
One thing that stands out to me is that true friends are not blind to our faults. In fact, we may have even learned they were true friends when we did something colossally stupid or made perfect fools of ourselves in their presence and they didn't feel we'd done so permanently. I'm not saying they didn't notice. The best of friends are never blind, they are just willing to close their eyes to your mistakes.
I know, because I have made my share of blunders, and mistaken one thing for another countless times. I have misunderstood people and acted on that misunderstanding only to find I was way off. But, as Emerson said, "It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." Anyone who's been a friend of mine for a while has had to accept my being stupid more than once. I've found if they still like me after that, they are probably my friends.
I thought of citing some examples here, but those that have come to mind have been too embarrassing to put on display here. I'll just point out I find it easy to misread the intentions of others because I'm projecting my own thoughts onto them. It takes a good friend to wade through some of that and let it go.
On a slightly less obvious level, friends can sit silently with you without being the least bit uncomfortable. This is true in some of the most pleasant times, and the not so. It's not just the not saying anything part. That can go on among perfect strangers and mean nothing. A crowd of people on a train or a bus not speaking to one another is not a gathering of friends. It's the conversations or shared moments wherein you never need to say what's on your mind that count. I don't need to come out and say it, my friend just knows.
In other graver circumstances of despair or confusion, a true friend can just hang in there being present and be comfortable. That kind of friend doesn't see the need to fix things or to fix you. That sort of friend just cares in person. Great to have in your life.
One thing that stands out to me is that true friends are not blind to our faults. In fact, we may have even learned they were true friends when we did something colossally stupid or made perfect fools of ourselves in their presence and they didn't feel we'd done so permanently. I'm not saying they didn't notice. The best of friends are never blind, they are just willing to close their eyes to your mistakes.
I know, because I have made my share of blunders, and mistaken one thing for another countless times. I have misunderstood people and acted on that misunderstanding only to find I was way off. But, as Emerson said, "It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them." Anyone who's been a friend of mine for a while has had to accept my being stupid more than once. I've found if they still like me after that, they are probably my friends.
I thought of citing some examples here, but those that have come to mind have been too embarrassing to put on display here. I'll just point out I find it easy to misread the intentions of others because I'm projecting my own thoughts onto them. It takes a good friend to wade through some of that and let it go.
On a slightly less obvious level, friends can sit silently with you without being the least bit uncomfortable. This is true in some of the most pleasant times, and the not so. It's not just the not saying anything part. That can go on among perfect strangers and mean nothing. A crowd of people on a train or a bus not speaking to one another is not a gathering of friends. It's the conversations or shared moments wherein you never need to say what's on your mind that count. I don't need to come out and say it, my friend just knows.
In other graver circumstances of despair or confusion, a true friend can just hang in there being present and be comfortable. That kind of friend doesn't see the need to fix things or to fix you. That sort of friend just cares in person. Great to have in your life.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
It's Not A Sentence, It's Just A Word.
Depress is a verb meaning, according to Dictionary.com's second definition "to lower in force, vigor, activity, etc.; weaken; make dull." It's my favorite definition. A definition I don't care for is about "to make sad or gloomy; lower in spirits; deject; dispirit." This was the first definition in Dictionary.com. I like Wiktionary.com's first definition--"To press down." Depressing things just lowers their force, it doesn't extinguish anythng.
Depression gets a real negative vibration going whenever it's mentioned, almost as if it is a sentence to some form of imprisonment. It doesn't have to be. That's what people who don't know about "depressing" things call it.
Often we are instructed to depress a button or a switch somehow to make something we want happen. "Depress the switch to ..." Well, you know...depressing things is a necessary step. So, why does everybody get depressed about "depressing" something? Who knows?
There are a few things that depress you--and me--hunger, unnecessary pain, early or premature death, lingering disease, broken hearts, and more. They are usually things that pass by. But there are things you can depress without depressing everyone else. Depressing a button to lower the temperature, or the air pressure, or the force applied to something. Sometimes what's depressing is a matter of brain chemistry, producing a lowered amount of force or activity.
Finally, people can "depress" whatever button they need to in order to get treatment for that lowered force they are experiencing. It's nothing to get depressed about. Feeling that lowered force, I'm getting treatment. It's not a sentence, it's just a word.
Depression gets a real negative vibration going whenever it's mentioned, almost as if it is a sentence to some form of imprisonment. It doesn't have to be. That's what people who don't know about "depressing" things call it.
Often we are instructed to depress a button or a switch somehow to make something we want happen. "Depress the switch to ..." Well, you know...depressing things is a necessary step. So, why does everybody get depressed about "depressing" something? Who knows?
There are a few things that depress you--and me--hunger, unnecessary pain, early or premature death, lingering disease, broken hearts, and more. They are usually things that pass by. But there are things you can depress without depressing everyone else. Depressing a button to lower the temperature, or the air pressure, or the force applied to something. Sometimes what's depressing is a matter of brain chemistry, producing a lowered amount of force or activity.
Finally, people can "depress" whatever button they need to in order to get treatment for that lowered force they are experiencing. It's nothing to get depressed about. Feeling that lowered force, I'm getting treatment. It's not a sentence, it's just a word.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Just Another Day
Now and then, a change in routine can lift your spirits. Or it might just be getting a good night's sleep for a change. I will have to do a little research. Maybe I should get a good night's sleep again tonight and try having a routine day tomorrow and see if my spirits are lifted again---or, maybe not. I like the notion of changing routines. Today, something new replaced a seven year habit. The only drawback was the first part that was "new" was a pilates class. Too much core strength development will give you a lot of aches, among other things.
But seriously, I did enjoy the change, and I plan to do it again. Do habits get too boring? Is it the activity, or the way you approach it that makes the routine stuff get you down? I'm sure it's the latter, you know it and I know it, too. But it's always easier to change my approach in a new situation, stepping out of the groove I have worn in a situation is not something I've been able to do. Instead, I walk away, try something else.
New things, places and even people can always make just another day something better. The things that were a strain in the old, just disappear when you shake the dust off your feet and step out the door. Just another day becomes a big lift. You too can remind yourself of that fact any day now.
But seriously, I did enjoy the change, and I plan to do it again. Do habits get too boring? Is it the activity, or the way you approach it that makes the routine stuff get you down? I'm sure it's the latter, you know it and I know it, too. But it's always easier to change my approach in a new situation, stepping out of the groove I have worn in a situation is not something I've been able to do. Instead, I walk away, try something else.
New things, places and even people can always make just another day something better. The things that were a strain in the old, just disappear when you shake the dust off your feet and step out the door. Just another day becomes a big lift. You too can remind yourself of that fact any day now.
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Being Ready To Sail
I threw away my coaching books, and put my retirement planning ones in a box. All that analysis seemed to fit, but now I'm not so sure. I think I'm ready for a change. I watched a show last night, and it made me think again about all that planning and its outcome.
Most of the things I've enjoyed just happened, without much of a plan. Our friends picked us up, and drove us the half mile or so from where we lived to the Harbor. The name of the band was vaguely familiar, but not to the others with us. We had lived in a couple of places they had not, so we guessed which they were from, and I guessed wrong. They were deftly funny, and musically eclectic. Thoroughly entertaining, so much so that I quickly realized I'd never seen them before. We had a good time, cheered and cried in the right places. No songs for the atheist, they cried. I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.
Then Zac joined them for a number about what not to do while she's walking away, and the risks involved. I'd seen them firsthand before. Someone unfamiliar reminded us it was nobody's business but our own. Hah!
Yes, some of their selections rang bells, some gongs, none were flat. Where had they been all our lives (and where had we)?
Proud to be an American, but at least I know I'm free. God blessed the USA again. But all along, I knew I was being sent, drawn, driven to that state I know was where we all need to be--in that place where--when a good wind comes along, we're ready to sail. Does that make any sense?
How do we sail in all this? Our bells are rung for us by perfect strangers who have learned to do so and use that singular talent to sail their way.
Most of the things I've enjoyed just happened, without much of a plan. Our friends picked us up, and drove us the half mile or so from where we lived to the Harbor. The name of the band was vaguely familiar, but not to the others with us. We had lived in a couple of places they had not, so we guessed which they were from, and I guessed wrong. They were deftly funny, and musically eclectic. Thoroughly entertaining, so much so that I quickly realized I'd never seen them before. We had a good time, cheered and cried in the right places. No songs for the atheist, they cried. I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.
Then Zac joined them for a number about what not to do while she's walking away, and the risks involved. I'd seen them firsthand before. Someone unfamiliar reminded us it was nobody's business but our own. Hah!
Yes, some of their selections rang bells, some gongs, none were flat. Where had they been all our lives (and where had we)?
Proud to be an American, but at least I know I'm free. God blessed the USA again. But all along, I knew I was being sent, drawn, driven to that state I know was where we all need to be--in that place where--when a good wind comes along, we're ready to sail. Does that make any sense?
How do we sail in all this? Our bells are rung for us by perfect strangers who have learned to do so and use that singular talent to sail their way.
Friday, October 18, 2013
Remedies For A Sleepless Night Really Might Be Part Of The Cure
My guess is sleeplessness is a pretty individual thing. What keeps me up at night is different from what does the same for you. I can't bring myself to sit around trying to think good thoughts, but I am not given to worrying about the state of politics and the like. It has all just become such a mess that I really don't waste much time on it. People in politics today don't mind being seen to be incompetent, stubborn, negative, self-serving, backbiting, (Hmmm, maybe this means more to me than I have thought, seeing as how I have so many names I call them when I have the chance). Unlike some others, I am not inclined to blame one side or the other. They are equally at fault in my book, and they have earned no credibility by "standing up for what's right." None of them seem to have a corner on the answers that are right. But, I have wandered off topic again. I really want to know more about what robs me of sleep than politics.
Some of it is physiological--I am "of a certain age" and have a few issues, but it is intermittent enough to defy simple "blame it on the illness" thinking. Sometimes the only cure is time and reading/writing. Reading worked once already tonight, and I managed a couple of hours out to that. I am trying writing just now, and, in fact I am getting sleepy right now writing this TO BE CONTINUED.
Back again, didn't even waste 90 minutes, or maybe lying there was a waste of time. I'm looking for something a little off the beaten path as a remedy. I think I'll consult my friends at Google.
MUCH LATER, I have slept since then, but let me tell you, people who believe they know what you should do to help yourself get to sleep are unbelievable. As usual, Google offered an abundance in response to my query, "how can I get to sleep at night?" (883 million responses in .54 seconds). I went through a page of them and I was astonished, not only by the array of ideas and their volume, but also by the amount of advertising woven into each page of information. When your teacher caught you asleep in the classroom she probably never told you "that's OK, because sleep's a big business," but it is, see for yourself.
But that is only secondary. The responses were so extensive, it was hard to take in. No one in that field believes that "brevity is the soul of wit."
Here are the highlights of what I found in a few minutes of googling. I really didn't read any one in its entirety. What quickly drew my attention was the volume of each response. Wiki How provided twenty-four steps to better sleep, followed by thirty-five tips on better sleep. Helpguide.org provided only nine secrets to better sleep, but each secret included eight or nine tips. One interesting side light--your brain uses sleep time to clear out the waste, the process is called the glymphatic system, and lack of sleep allows the accumulation of this waste material which presumably impairs the brain's function.
The Mayo Clinic starts off slowly--they provide seven steps to improve sleep, but this is followed by eleven tips (they just couldn't help themselves). Prevention.com has eleven steps to take during your waking hours to improve sleep. However, they follow that with more tips when you actually lay down to sleep. The well.com offers 42 simple steps to help you get to sleep.
One of my favorite quotes about the need for brevity comes from Patricia Marx: "One false word, one extra word, and somebody's thinking about how they have to buy paper towels at the store. Brevity is very important. If you're going to be long winded, it should be for a purpose. Not just because you like your words."
Would that some of these helpful sources understood that. One might have somewhat obliquely--WikiHow, in step 11 of the quick fixes for falling asleep, suggests Do something dull: Read a boring book, a work paper.... here's my thought--how about reading tips and steps for falling asleep? Boring enough, methinks.
Some of it is physiological--I am "of a certain age" and have a few issues, but it is intermittent enough to defy simple "blame it on the illness" thinking. Sometimes the only cure is time and reading/writing. Reading worked once already tonight, and I managed a couple of hours out to that. I am trying writing just now, and, in fact I am getting sleepy right now writing this TO BE CONTINUED.
Back again, didn't even waste 90 minutes, or maybe lying there was a waste of time. I'm looking for something a little off the beaten path as a remedy. I think I'll consult my friends at Google.
MUCH LATER, I have slept since then, but let me tell you, people who believe they know what you should do to help yourself get to sleep are unbelievable. As usual, Google offered an abundance in response to my query, "how can I get to sleep at night?" (883 million responses in .54 seconds). I went through a page of them and I was astonished, not only by the array of ideas and their volume, but also by the amount of advertising woven into each page of information. When your teacher caught you asleep in the classroom she probably never told you "that's OK, because sleep's a big business," but it is, see for yourself.
But that is only secondary. The responses were so extensive, it was hard to take in. No one in that field believes that "brevity is the soul of wit."
Here are the highlights of what I found in a few minutes of googling. I really didn't read any one in its entirety. What quickly drew my attention was the volume of each response. Wiki How provided twenty-four steps to better sleep, followed by thirty-five tips on better sleep. Helpguide.org provided only nine secrets to better sleep, but each secret included eight or nine tips. One interesting side light--your brain uses sleep time to clear out the waste, the process is called the glymphatic system, and lack of sleep allows the accumulation of this waste material which presumably impairs the brain's function.
The Mayo Clinic starts off slowly--they provide seven steps to improve sleep, but this is followed by eleven tips (they just couldn't help themselves). Prevention.com has eleven steps to take during your waking hours to improve sleep. However, they follow that with more tips when you actually lay down to sleep. The well.com offers 42 simple steps to help you get to sleep.
One of my favorite quotes about the need for brevity comes from Patricia Marx: "One false word, one extra word, and somebody's thinking about how they have to buy paper towels at the store. Brevity is very important. If you're going to be long winded, it should be for a purpose. Not just because you like your words."
Would that some of these helpful sources understood that. One might have somewhat obliquely--WikiHow, in step 11 of the quick fixes for falling asleep, suggests Do something dull: Read a boring book, a work paper.... here's my thought--how about reading tips and steps for falling asleep? Boring enough, methinks.
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