Category: Uncategorized

I’m laying here sick
and the damn birds
Are singing away.
No respect
For me and
My pain.
My doggies are
In their usual
Niche snoozing
In the curves
Of my body.
Not getting any
Sympathy from
Them.
This is not right!
Lying here I notice
One bird
Is singing
A song that
Is clear and strong
Like a solo
With a Chorus.
There is no director
But the breeze is waving
And pointing.
It’s easy to doze off
With the warmth
of my dogs’ bodies
And their quiet snoring.
2 Dog Night and day.
A song and warmth.

When I am young again, then I will…
When I get published, then I will
When I get thin, then I will
When I die, then I will…

Wait a minute! If I am dead then it is too late, way too late! Do I need to get permission, attain a certain goal, or prove I am worthy before I do whatever it is that I want to do? If I am seeking evidence to prove that finally I have suffered enough, then maybe I need a different equation. I have a deep-seated feeling and belief that I am undeserving . I do not deserve to be happy. I do not deserve to enjoy my life. Most certainly I do not deserve to spend money on something I can afford but do not need. I almost stutter when I say “I want”, its hard to speak when this voice in my head is shouting “selfish”!

Reviewing my first paragraph I notice how many sentences begin with “I” and I feel uncomfortable drawing attention to myself. Permission needs to come from someone else doesn’t it? Without validation from others, I question even my questions! The committee in my head is loud and disagreeing. My toxic companion, Depression, throws it weight around too. I get lost in this maze and soon I am paralyzed with fear and undeservingness.(not a word, but it works for me). I am waiting for a booming voice from above that tells me ” Go for it Danita, you deserve the best life has to offer.” Do you hear anything? Me neither.

Damn! It looks like I am responsible for changing my beliefs and practicing compassion for myself. So what I tell myself is the origin of my best or worst life. My beliefs are not facts or alternative facts, I can change them and allow the good into my life. So challenging my negative beliefs is a good place to start my abundant life. First I need to hear what my thoughts are saying, especially when they come so fast I can have a feeling without realizing that a negative thought preceded the feeling. If I become aware of my negative beliefs, I can then ask “Is this true?” or as my friend Susan says “Would it hold up in a court of law?” It would never go all the way to the Supreme Court, case dismissed! I can choose my beliefs about allowing abundance in my life and mute the naysayers in my head.

It is hard work challenging my negative beliefs because for many years they have been in charge of my life. They are part of my status quo and my brain has ruts where my thoughts have travelled so many times. Neural pathways of negativity. With practice I can create new thoughts, new neural pathways and new habits that support abundance. I can over-ride the undeserving thoughts and resolve that I will survive the backlash of guilt and shame which come up. I am very excited about a cruise I am taking in October and several shows on my calendar. Guilt and shame, I am warning you that I might just let you go!

 ” … in surrender what actually happens is that your own nature comes to a flowering.” Osho

Give up! What kind of advice is that? I can’t just give up, wouldn’t that make me a quitter? Remember when we used to say 7 take away 5 equals 2? Lately my life has been about subtraction or take away. I subtract so that I can weigh my choices and see what my life equals. Do I want to keep this knick knack or this judgement, attitude or belief ? Does this serve me or am I serving it? Maybe I should donate some of my clothes rather than buying more hangers. I think that a life take away drinking and smoking equals a fuller life. What can I quit or give up that helps me live my fuller life?

“There’s gold in dem thar hills!” Panning for gold uses water for sifting out what is “not” gold, like rocks and sand. It is also true, “All that glitters is not gold.”. There is a rock called Fools’ Gold, it looks like gold, but is not the real deal. I don’t want to be fooled into pursuing goals and accumulating things I don’t need or want, because I believe if I quit, I am a failure. There are many societal messages that tell me what I “should” want, but not many that help me discern between real and fools’ gold for myself. So what’s left if and when I take away the “shoulds”? Trying to get through just one day without saying “I should…”, should be easy. Damn, I blew it already.

We talk about clearing the decks and getting down to brass tacks when we are ready to get to work. I want to clear away what is not essential and does not fulfill me. This means I have to quit my frantic pace so I can get down to me. People pleasing and living someone else’s life keep me too busy to ask what I want for myself. Don’t bother me with this bleeding heart, feeling stuff! I don’t have time, but when I do….  My husband Roger died a little over a year ago. He thought he would have time to finally enjoy his life when he retired, but it turned out that time was the one thing he didn’t have.

Henry David Thoreau:
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

My goals are: 1.Give up, 2. Quit

“We won’t get fooled again.”  The Who
It was an early fall evening, and we were all in sweatshirts and jackets. The clear night offered just a bit of chill and together we held hands , warming and supporting each other. The stars were witnesses to our chants: “Hell no, we won’t go!” and “Power to the People!” There were signs, speakers and music. I remember I felt so alive and charged with energy. I had something to say, we had something to say, and we were shouting to be heard. To end our protest, the organizers asked us all to sing “Imagine” by John Lennon. It has been many years since that night, but even now I can hear all of our voices beautifully joining together, and echoing across campus. “Imagine all the people sharing all the world…” We could still imagine a world at peace and we were asking for peace on that clear night. I was 19 years old. I believed I had the right to protest peacefully and be heard.

It has been over 40 years since that night, and now the fervor of protest has been stirred in me again…thank you President Trump for awakening this sleeping giant. On Tuesday, I was one of two thousand, to protest recent immigration policies ordered by President Trump. It was a warm winter day in the upper fifties, and the march was at noon. We didn’t hold hands but we carried with us the dignity of each and every American. Young or old, white or black, heterosexual or LBGT, man or woman, Muslim or Christian, it didn’t matter. No walls, no lines drawn randomly in the sand. We could have sang ” Imagine” and it would have resonated just as it did forty years ago. Will we ever learn from the past, or is it “different” this time? It looks the same.

Of course I am not that strident and angry college student any longer. At 19, my boiling point was much lower than it is now. Now, I may simmer with experience and discernment, but I can still reach my boiling point of “I’m mad as hell, and I’m not gonna take it anymore!” In all the forty plus years from then to now, how have I changed and what have I learned? Honestly, there are times when I am certain that I have not learned one single thing in forty years. I still think I am always right, but I can’t deny that I have been wrong many times. Damn! So I try to pause before my mouth spews out words that I will regret. The sign I carried at the Tuesday march said “Build bridges, not walls.” Nothing puts up walls faster than judgement. It’s a bitch to take down a wall brick by brick when you finally figure out that your brother and sister are on the other side. I have to go, and get to work taking down that wall.

My political blog is: makesomenoise.blog

I hate ice melt. God knows what’s in it, and it always ends up on the carpet, hardwood floors or entry rugs. It travels far on the soles of boots and shoes. Those little crystals are irritating inside, but can be lifesavers outside on the slippery sidewalk. I finally broke down several years ago and bought ice melt that is not harmful to doggie feet. My little doggie Mia went running out the door onto the deck, intent on emptying her bladder, and almost slid off the deck. There is a railing, but the bottom is 4 or 5 inches off the deck. This is high enough for Chihuahuas to fit under, and the drop is eight feet or so to the ground! Now ice melt is a winter staple.

As I was scattering ice melt this morning I noticed how quickly it works. Little holes appear in the ice within a minute, and soon ice and snow are melted. The City of Fort Collins gives homeowners 24 hours to clear their sidewalks. If the City does the sidewalk they charge the homeowner a hefty fee. I walk a lot, and walk my dogs, and I really do appreciate ice free sidewalks. I think daggers when sidewalks are not cleared and are very slippery. It seems a young lady, (able bodied) homeowner down the street is not a compassionate person. After several snows and uncleared sidewalks, I turned her in to the sidewalk police. People do not bounce when they fall, and my old lady bones are vulnerable to fractures. My point? If you don’t care about your own safety, be compassionate and act to protect the welfare of others. Maybe I am the old biddie down the street, but is compassion ever out of style?

Inauguration Day

Let me introduce you, Mr. Trump, to the office of the President of the United States. Because you are very smart, perhaps you have heard of the office of the President. If you are confused, ask Putin to explain it to you, he seems to have a good grasp on the office of President Trump.

My dog, Roscoe, dubbed His Royal Naughtiness due to the peach pit incident, is more Presidential than the Donald. He may occasionally sniff a crotch, but he is a dog after all. I have never seen him “grab a pussy”.

Inaugural Prayer

Short,
Not so sweet.
God Help Us!

Give him a chance you say. Not until he gives Muslims, Mexicans, women and LBGT.s a chance.

Today I went through a car wash. In neutral, hands off the wheel and no braking, I was just pulled along. It was wonderful! Secluded in the tunnel and only the sound of water spray and slap of the heavy cleaning strips to lull me. Please can I just go around to the front and do this again …and again? A car wash is my respite. Pathetic, right? Another benefit would be a very clean car.

Respite : a short period of time when you are able to stop doing something that is difficult or unpleasant or when something difficult or unpleasant stops or is delayed

Because I am breathing and human, life sometimes offers “…something that is difficult or unpleasant….” Prior to the car wash I spoke to a group of CNA students at Elderhaus, the adult day program I work for. I was the voice of the caregiver and family, and an educator about Lewy Body Dementia. I never imagined that life would bring me to this event, this day. Respite is vital for caregivers. No one is capable of being on duty 24/7 365 days a year. While caring for Roger, my supply of patience and compassion got dangerously low more than once. I needed respite to fill up my cup and build myself back up. Elderhaus was there to give Roger a safe, caring and stimulating place to spend his day, and to give me respite. Too bad I never thought of the car wash then.

Danita’s CarWash and Respite. We clean your car and your soul. Coffee or tea, headphones and music or guided meditation of your choice. 10, 15 or deluxe 30 minute wash and Respite.
Pay attention, open your heart and offer to give an overwhelmed caregiver respite. Someday you may be that caregiver who is too proud to ask for help.

I have been working on a jig saw puzzle, and progress has been slow. I have pieced together the outside frame of the puzzle and am filling in. It’s only a 100 piece puzzle, but I am a novice. Please no snickers from the 1000 piece folks! Sometimes I make very little progress, and I just can’t see a way to fit any pieces together. If I leave the puzzle for several hours, usually I will see an obvious fit as soon as I sit down. It is comforting to know when I finish I will have the picture on the box. There is only one way the puzzle pieces fit , so I do not need to be creative, just persistent. I will keep at it.

I suspect God switched puzzles on me, because I’m having trouble imagining my puzzle will look like the picture I have in my head. I have lost the instructions for building the stairway to Heaven too. Please email me if you have them. Puzzles are usually worked from the frame or edges in. Life is the opposite, the frame is added last. At the moment of death, all unused puzzle pieces disappear, and what is done, is done. How do I want to put the pieces of my life together? There is a slogan in Al-Anon,” Don’t force the solution” i.e. if I just push a little harder I can make these puzzle pieces fit. I know that I just need to try harder. This never works! Unfortunately forcing pieces to fit is my go to response, and I waste a lot of time in denial, anger and sadness. If I find where I belong, I may be the pivotal piece that connects large areas of the puzzle for myself and others. It’s all about knowing and accepting myself. I will fit somewhere.

What if there are missing puzzle pieces? There are always missing pieces in life puzzles, it is unavoidable. When Roger died, pieces of my puzzle just didn’t fit anymore, so I had to throw them away. I can’t fill the empty spots I have in my puzzle. These spaces aren’t really “empty”, they are filled with the losses I have experienced in my life. I can go on putting the pieces I have left into my puzzle and be grateful.

Did you know?
I typed the word pizzle several times when I meant to type puzzle. So if I am piss poor at puzzles, than I pizzle at puzzles! This amused me. Then I thought I should google “pizzle” to make sure it is not a word. Google pizzle? Pizzle means the penis of an animal. I am not making this shit up!

piz·zle\ˈpi-zəl\
noun
1 : the penis of an animal
2 : a whip made of a bull’s pizzle
Origin: probably from Dutch dialect pezel; akin to Low German pesel

Please use “pizzle” in a sentence and keep a straight face.

The sky is falling and its coming down in beautiful white crystals. Shit! I gotta shovel my driveway and then worry about what condition the streets are in. You know there are lots of idiots out there. I get to wear my cool boots though. What about the pinched nerve in my neck? I’m sure shoveling snow will help that…

Winter in Colorado is quite the mixed bag. There are lots of snow bunnies and bunnies in the snow. Sweatshirts proclaim “Let it Snow!”, and locals and tourists hit the slopes by the thousands. The ski industry is a major contributor to state revenue. Swoosh! I am not a skier, and I doubt I will learn now at 64, but you know it might be fun to snowshoe. I wonder how much it is to rent snowshoes for a day?

Snow days were the best when I was a kid in Iowa. Sometimes when we went to bed it was snowing, and I prayed for some wind. Wind plus snow equals blizzard. It was such a wonderful feeling to be “out” of school on a school day. Possibilities were endless. If conditions improved by late morning, we could get outside to build snow forts and fire our snowball weapons at each other. I had so many brothers and sisters that armies could be called up for active duty at a moments notice. Our mittens were soaked and our hands burned with the cold, but what the hell we were having fun.

Adults can be such fuddy-duddies, me included. Even as a teenager, I hoped that snow would not call off an event I was really looking forward to. Adult responsibilities for shoveling, cleaning the car off, and dressing your toddlers in those spacesuit/snowsuits took some of the joy out of snowy days. At least watching your toddlers walk like little spacemen was pretty funny.

Roger and I seldom let the snow keep us from our early morning walks. Dressing to go out in the snow was time consuming and required a lot of motivation. Windchill was the deciding factor for me. The frost on our eyelashes was a pretty effect, runny noses not so much. Roger always had cold feet so getting and keeping his feet warm was priority. I regretted not having a hat too many times so finally learned to have one in my pocket just in case. We were often the first set of footprints in the snow, explorers in the wilds of the city.

I am writing at my coffee shop, so obviously I got my driveway shoveled. The streets are getting less snow packed and mostly just wet. The coffee keeps me warm while I look out at the light snow. Slush is next, but for now it is just another snowy day in Colorado.

“Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be”
Abraham Lincoln

For years my skeptical response to honest Abe was, “Bullshit, you obviously don’t know how my life sucks. Let me count the ways.” Life happened to me, and I interpreted the facts my way and reacted. Life was a string of events I viewed with my ego and a dirty pair of glasses. I was boxing with an opponent that was stronger and faster than I was. The best I could do was worry and cry, or rage and act out. I was not happy, and didn’t understand how my mind and thoughts could change how I felt. Didn’t I have to feel my feelings and let my emotions guide me? Remember Primal Scream Therapy?

I didn’t just wake up one day and suddenly understand what Mr. Lincoln was talking about, but today I believe he is right about happiness being a choice. How I perceive external events determines my “reality”. I have an egocentric and negative bias, and often react as if it’s all about ME. If I pause to question my perception, I usually reach the conclusion that I am not the center of the universe. Now I know what I tell myself is not always the “truth”. Just because I think something does not make it true. For example, when a friend is curt to me, and before I travel down the road of “Nobody loves me.”or “What a bitch!”, I consider other possibilities. Maybe she had a rough day at work, or is very tired, and I am not part of the equation. I check it out and ask for clarification so I can respond appropriately. Assumptions often make an ass out of me!

When I catch myself using the words “always” or “never” I know I have put up roadblocks to my happiness. I am not always rejected, nor is it true that I never succeed. When she needs to confront her negative interpretations (or mine), my best friend Susan asks, “Would it hold up in a court of law?” No lawyer would accept my case! Life is not black or white, and there are much more than fifty shades of gray.

The single attitude that fundamentally changes how I view my life, and my level of happiness, is gratitude. For years, when gratitude was the topic at my Al-Anon meetings, I groaned and grumbled. I had no Attitude of Gratitude, that’s for sure. So what has changed? I determined that I would list five things that I am grateful for everyday, and my sister Lisa started a life changing blog “Habitual Gratitude” . It is as simple as what you focus on grows and gets stronger. With practice, your mind gets better at recognizing what is good and beautiful. Gratitude is a proven path to happiness. Go ahead and take the road less travelled, but travel with gratitude.

Make a Happy New Year! Choose a Happy New Year!