moods

*This is a…wait for it…a reprise from a thousand years ago. And in this moment, it feels apropos.

I’m reticent (translate to too chicken) to put REPRISE in the title anymore. I’ve been informed that most of you (at least the vocal majority), hate reprises. “I don’t want to re-read things I’ve already read” my brother snarked at me this week. “I mean I get that you might need a break every now and then, but breaks are for lightweights”.
Shit. That’s harsh. Tough crowd.
He doesn’t like it when I ask questions at the end either. “Okay, now you guys weigh in—what do YOU think” he sneers in a sarcastic tone that has me snort laughing my coffee and flipping him off at the same time. “It’s YOUR blog, YOU’RE giving the advice. YOU tell us what we should think!”
So, please excuse me while I chase him around the kitchen flicking him with a wet dish towel and then give him an atomic wedgie.
I’m giving the rest of  y’all a hug right now with a warm blanket made of bacon.
Mmmmmmmmmm…
carry on,
xox

On those days when you’re finding fault with EVERYTHING— the sky isn’t the right Tiffany Box shade of blue and the air conditioning is blowing too cold—how do you get yourself out of it? (hee hee, he’s seething right now).
Do you, at some point realize your ridiculousness and slap yourself across the face to snap out of it?
Or do you marinate in the fact that you’re so contrary that if George Clooney sat down beside you you’d tell him he needed a haircut and an Altoid?

I know you know when you’re being an ass – because I know it when I am.

We wake up every day and there are two sides of the bed on which to get up.
The sunny side or the dark side; the right side or the wrong side.

The question I’m asking is this: if, by some cruel twist of circumstances and hormones you put your feet on the floor when you wake up in the land of EVERYTHING’S WRONG, do you indulge and make those around you miserable, or do you do your damnedest to climb out? ( I really wanna know!)

I’ve done both. I DO both. Guilty as charged in the court of Nit & Pick.

These dark days do not come naturally to me, but when I’m under their spell – watch out – and know that I DO know what an asshat I’m being, I just can’t help myself right. this. minute.
So sorry.

Not really.

The kitchen looks the same as it did two days ago when I was feeling so grateful but today the bright summer sunshine is lighting up a couple of places that have chipped white paint. Instead of making it look charming and cozy it looks like a family of badgers had a drunken pinata party, then had trouble with the bat, (as badgers do), and turned the place into a badger-shithole.

Along those lines, the wine stains on the wood countertops that were just faded purple reminders of a really fun party last summer, have today, (wrong side of the bed day) become my reason for seriously entertaining throwing a grenade behind me and shutting the door, giving us the opportunity for a fresh start.

You’re welcome Honey, what can I say, I’m a giver.

Don’t tell me I’m acting like an idiot when I am—because that’s like taking a high-pressure hose of lighter fluid and spraying it on a fire.

I KNOW I AM. IM WORKING IT OUT.

But I will deny it….with my dying breath I will tell you I’m “fine.”
I’m sorry if your feelings and our kitchen have become collateral damage. If you want to survive this:
Don’t make eye contact and DON’T try to hug me. I have a fork in my hand.

The best strategy in the past has been to isolate myself for a while. Take a lovely walk outside in nature (I can’t today, with the heat index and the humidity, it feels like The Tropic of Cancer.)

Meditation is a good way to snap back into a loving place along with exercise. Neither of those has worked, so I’m still marinating.

Hormones, I’m blaming hormones.
I remember feeling this out of sorts during puberty, but the Good Lord had the common sense to deal me that hand when I wasn’t old enough to marry, operate heavy machinery or carry a firearm.
Whatever shall I do now? (Calm down Jim, that was rhetorical).

The trick for me is listening to my own words as they spill uncensored from my lips.
If they make even me cringe, I need to make a correction.
I need to shut up and realize I’m acting like an ass.
Is that what you do? (*snort)

Try it.
Just listen to yourself. Step up and out of your body as you berate the waiter or the lady at Ralph’s or your husband.

If every other word is a critique or fuck, chances are you’re having THAT kind of day. Or you’re channeling me.

Sometimes, what I hear myself say is so vile it makes me laugh, which then breaks the spell. Or it makes the recipient so mad they chase me around with a taser and I have to make a break for it AND get some cardio in at the same time which is just a win/win. Two birds—one stone.

If that doesn’t work puh-leeze do everyone, including yourself a favor.
Do what I do. Don’t speak TO ANYONE, go to bed early, and before you go to sleep say a little prayer for a better disposition, less facial hair and a better tomorrow.

Love you anyway,
Xox

GRUDGE

grudge
ɡrəj/
noun
1. a persistent feeling of ill will or resentment resulting from a past insult or injury.

synonyms: grievance, resentment, bitterness, rancor, pique, umbrage, dissatisfaction, disgruntlement, bad feelings, hard feelings, ill feelings, ill will, animosity, antipathy, antagonism, enmity, animus;
chip on one’s shoulder

verb
1.
To be resentfully unwilling to give, grant, or allow (something).

synonyms: begrudge, resent, feel aggrieved about, be resentful of, mind, object to, take exception to, take umbrage at

I used to work for someone who was the King of the Grudge Holders. He was brilliant at it.
If you had a grudge you needed held, you could count on him to do it for you.

His family used him over the years as their sanctioned grudge holder.
That left the rest of them free to live an unfettered, happy life.

He held a grudge toward his brother for being a dick to him as a teenager, you know, like older brothers are. It’s a right of passage — let it go.
Nope. Over twenty years later and they barely spoke.

It got to the point where he didn’t even know why he hated someone — he just did because his dad had told him the story of some slight back after the war. Not the Vietnam war, that would have been bad enough, No, we’re talking WWII — the 1940’s for god sakes.

I watched my boss act as cold as ice to a seemingly very nice older gentleman who came into our store, and after he left I questioned him about his behavior. “What the hell was that?” I said in a tone reserved for people who kick dogs.
“I don’t want that guy in here” he responded defensively, “Besides, he’s got a lot of nerve. He and my dad got into a bar fight once over a girl.”

“Uh, really? When? The Neolithic period? Your parents have been married for over fifty years, I think the statute of limitations on post war fights over girls who are now almost eighty has been reached.”

He wasn’t having it. He folded his arms tight, pursed his lips, and stomped away.

I used to joke with him, “Give me the list of who you’re not mad at, suing, or holding a grudge against — it’s shorter.”

Bygones can never be bygones.

And that’s the thing with some people. They have a dog in every fight. They’ll latch onto a story they hear about something gone awry and they’ll run with it, holding the grudge long after the situation has rectified itself.

“That guy owes Jerry money.” he sneered as he walked by me to put something in the safe.
I looked up to see some nondescript someone I didn’t know writing a check to another dealer in the building. “How do you know that?” I decided to bite, it was a welcome distraction from all the paperwork.
“He told me in Miami” he was standing at the counter starring the guy down. I could feel his blood pressure rising.
“That was over six months ago, maybe he’s paid him, besides I can see the line of people who owe Jerry money from here. You guys all owe each other money. Shit, Jerry owes YOU money!”

He just grunted and mumbled something under his breath, (I was still breathing so fortunately his wish hadn’t been granted) and sat back down behind his desk.
Dog in someone else’s fight.
Nose in somebody else business.
Mood ruined.
Grunge held.
For Jerry.

He really should have charged for his services. His obituary will read: He never met a grudge he couldn’t hold.

The problem with holding a grudge …is that your hands are then too full to hold onto anything else.
-Seth Godin

In my observation of chronic grudge holders (I did almost twenty years of research) what they are incapable of holding because their hands are full of …grudge… are joy and gratitude.

It turns toxic and eventually soul numbing.

It was physically impossible for him to feel appreciation and gratitude. That chip was missing.
We used to be able, with the help of copious amounts of alcohol, to coax an uncomfortable “thank you” out of him after trade shows.
He had a good life. A successful business, healthy family and money in the bank, and I watched him year after year take it all for granted. Like it was owed to him.

And for many, many years I witnessed a complete lack of joy. Actually all the higher emotions were missing. I never really saw love, empathy or compassion shown toward anyone.

But over time I learned to cut him a break. I understood. After all — his hands were full.

We are still friendly but when I thought of the word grudge he immediately came to mind. Who do you think of when you see that word?

Carry on,
xox

I’ve always been fascinated with death and what happens on the other side AFTER we die.

Religions teach pearly gates, heaven and hell sorts of scenarios.

Some schools of thought say there’s a celebration, the likes of which we’ve never seen.

Others teach that the birth process is actually harder on our souls, since death is re-emerging back into the energy from whence we came.

Even the people who have experienced an NDE (Near Death Experience) are only allowed to go so far – turned around at a certain point, and sent back.

It seems no one with an All Access Pass has ever been inclined to leave the party and report back to us poor slobs, just exactly what’s going on over there.

That has always intrigued me.

I really liked one school of thought I heard many years ago, about a kind of life review process. No heaven or hell; just a movie.

Now if you’re my husband you’re thinking: Well, that sounds like hell, how long is it? Is there popcorn? Are there previews? Where’s my seat exactly?
Settle down big guy. (He’s actually had an NDE so he has NO fear of death whatsoever, as long as there’s no loooong, drawn out movie to sit through).

This is how it was explained to me: Just after you die, you watch a review, in the form of a movie of sorts.

It races past you, as an IMAX type of experience – and it is the Movie Of Your Life.

There is no soundtrack, actually there is no sound at all – there is only emotion.

You see, you get to feel the emotions you evoked in everyone around you. In every second of your life.

Wha-What!? Well, that’s just…horrifying!

Can you imagine? All the times you made someone sad, hurt their feelings, infuriated them, even made them cry?

We cause others pain during our lives, but I’m willing to bet that a good portion of it is unintentional.
The rude remark, the overheard gossip, the accidentally-on-purpose forgotten Valentine’s Day.

I was assured that we will all be surprised and shocked by the emotions we’ve unknowingly caused in those around us.

The cure for that is waking up. Be conscious of the “wake” you leave behind you.

Are you jackass? Cut it out – or be prepared to be appalled, your movie’s gonna suck.

I for one, intend to do better.

But the reason this whole concept is fresh in my mind these days, is because I was recently reminded that it does work the other way.
We can also cause someone JOY unintentionally.
Yes, we do that too!

Every now and again, someone will relay a story that will swell my heart with this unintentional joy; and I don’t have to wait to die and watch the movie!

Remember those Agapanthus stalks from my garden that I dry and put outside in a bucket marked “Free Magic Wands” during the summer?

If you’re new to the blog, I wrote about it here: http://www.theobserversvoice.com/2014/08/spread-your-magic-however-you-can-with-audio/

The other day one of the neighborhood dads stopped and asked me if I had any more of my “magic wands”. (I don’t, summer is over. I hand the magic over to Santa for the winter).

He went on to explain that his six-year-old son had tied one onto the handlebars of his bike, and had ridden around with it for months.
“It just disintegrated last week, which is why I’m asking.” he said.
“My son loved that thing; he told all his friends he was like Harry Potter, that he had a magic wand” the dad went on to tell me. “He sent all his friends here to get one.” (That explains why I kept running out!)

I just stood there, listening, picturing the wand working it’s magic in that boy’s life. Holy Cow. It felt AMAZING.

Go Figure. I had gone the whole summer clueless, basically doing it for my own amusement.

That’s just a little thing, but it really made someone happy – behind the scenes. We ALL have those, of that I’m certain.

Think about it. I wonder what YOU’VE done lately that unintentionally touched someone’s heart? A hand written thank you note? A spontaneous love text?

I saw a hipster dude stop and put down his coffee to help an elderly gentleman down some steps yesterday. It almost made me cry.

You may never know…until the movie!

I’m wagering that the ratio for most of us, good to bad, joy to sadness – is ten to one. I’m just that much of a Pollyanna.

NOTE TO SELF: Send a mental note to the cosmic editor of MY movie, that he can go ahead and cut that scene – I already felt it!

“I’m warning you – I’m foul today. Stay clear!”

That’s what I did for years. I’d make that announcement as I walked into work; OR if it was the five minutes I had a boyfriend, I’d give the poor guy a chance to make a clean getaway.

I thought I was doing the kind thing. For myself and others.

The trouble was, although I cleared the room of the usual, aggravating suspects, my path became littered with all the foul people who matched my mood.

Driving became a kind of “every man for himself” obstacle course of assbites. The air was peppered with f-bombs, the middle fingers flashing, not to mention all the chaos happening inside my own car.

Going to pick up lunch became a contact sport.
Elbow jabbing, snide remarks, and cutting in line. Never mind that when I got back to the office, the entire order was wrong. Of course MY salad was the one missing – but oh wait, thank God there are 5,000 packets of ketchup in the bottom of the bag even though no one ordered fries!

You get the gist.
After awhile – make that many years, I came to the realization that announcing “I’m a grade A, number one bitch today” wasn’t helping anyone, least of all myself. As a matter of fact it was setting a horrible tone for my day, and attracting to me every other bad day haver in the greater Los Angeles area.

You’ve got to be smarter about this, I thought one night, after getting both a ticket and a flat tire on the way home after one particularly bitchy day. There’s GOT to be a better way!

And there is. It takes a few minutes and a bit of commitment, but I can assure you – it’s worth it.

If for whatever reason I wake up on the wrong side of sanity, instead of just resigning myself to a day of disasters, I acknowledge the mood and then take a few minutes to shift it.

“I’m not at the whim of some unforeseen force”, I tell myself. “I’m in control here! Ahhhh, that feels better already.”

I start by putting whatever set me off into perspective. Nothing is so bad it can’t be fixed AND no amount of shitty is worth sacrificing an entire day. Seriously.

Don’t get too specific. First, take away the blame.
Instead, figure out how you’d rather FEEL. 

If “he” pissed you off again, by breathing or wearing that face, take a minute to remember why you loved him enough to have him underfoot. Get back to that loving (or at least liking, place).

If you’re feeling under appreciated, think of the last time you told someone how much you appreciated their extra effort. It was probably during the Clinton administration – too long.
You see, that stuff goes hand in hand.

You want love – be loving.

You want appreciation – show it to those around you.

You want a helping hand – be generous to others.

You want to hear “Thank you” – say it more.

You want more money – spend some. (Counterintuitive I know, but it works)

You want the cramps to go away (or the headache, or the sore shoulder) – take some fucking Motrin, and quit complaining.

II can’t tell you how many times I went into work first, all twisted with cramps, and after the oxygen had left the room and everyone was sufficiently aware of my agony – THEN I took the appropriate medication.
(That’s what happens when you live alone too long; there’s nobody there to scream “enough!” and shove pain meds down your throat).

Don’t do that. It’s not nice. Your co workers aren’t paid enough to share your pain.

So loves, during this stressful next couple of weeks, don’t give into your foul moods. Consider this a warning. If you do, the angry, stressed out crazies will magnetize to you and make things worse.

I can promise you this from years of tireless research.

Eat a chocolate chip cookie (or 5), take a walk and look at the decorations and the holiday windows, tell someone you love them (and mean it), say “please” and “thank you” and watch it come back to you.

What you send out into the world – comes back to you. It’s the law.

Sending Big, big love your way,
Xox

Have you ever entered a room only to be overcome by its personality?

You know – you’re living your life, having a pretty good day; your coffee is hot, the traffic was cooperative, and as you enter your work environment for the morning meeting… SHAZAM!
You’re hit head on by the personality of a crisis.
A late delivery, a screw up, all the computers are down; in other words, some kind of seemingly unfixable, colossal, earth shattering, crisis.
If a room could manage it, it would be running around in circles, with its hair on fire, shrieking – because that’s exactly what it feels like when you walk in.

So then what happens to you? 
Right!?
I know – me too.

It’s happened to me more times than I can count (when it goes beyond fingers and toes, I just stop).

Yep, that’s right, doesn’t matter how high you’re flying, that room and its personality facilitate an energetic face-plant, and before you know it you’re shrieking, running in circles and pulling out your own flaming hair.

If you have the presence of mind, the minute you open the door and feel the yuck, turn around and make a clean getaway, before any of it gets on you.

Call from the corner and tell them you can’t come in – save yourself.

Or if you’re Yoda, Buddha, or Gandhi, you can stand in the middle of the turmoil, keep a cool head and attempt to stop the madness by your example.
Then get the hell out of there before they all start throwing things at you – like scissors and inkjet printers.

It is the rare individual who is immune to the personality of a room.

I can be in a great mood and if my husband comes home and he’s grumpy, surly and out-of-sorts, it changes the personality of the entire HOUSE...and down the rabbit hole I go.

But you know what? There is a silver lining. The opposite is true as well.

I’ve been foul. All dark and twisty; and walked into a room or a store where good music is playing (Christmas carols do it every time) and people are laughing and joking around and before I can say “Hey! I’m trying to be in a bad mood here!” It all gets turned around. The personality of the room sweeps me up in its arms and tickles me (that rascal) and I find myself smiling.

I don’t care what religion you believe in, try to watch the above video and not be moved.
Can you imagine? Racing to the mall, battling the crowds, and then being met by the personality of THIS room?

What an amazing surprise! Just TRY to stay Grinchy.

Plus if you know me, you know I love a good flashmob, choirs, Christmas, and shopping.

This is the feel good mothership – for me.

Xox

Loves,
We all know those negative people that suck all the oxygen out of the room – turn the tables – take their breath away!
Have a positive Monday,
xoxJ