BREATHE
If I could tell someone, who is going through difficulties, just one thing, it would be to

BREATHE.

In the year 2000, which BTW sounds so futuristic yet is now the past, I breathed a lot.

I also cried a lot.

I began listening to the one Spanish radio channel because all the others kept playing 

somebody-done-somebody-wrong songs,

 or songs that brought memories up in my head like Shania Twain's

"You're The One".

I would be at a stoplight, crying in my car, and I knew that the person in the Honda next to me might be thinking in their southern head, “Bless her heart. I bet her cat just died or her mom, dad, husband . . . "” They'd be right, in a sense. My marriage had died, and I was grieving. So I decided to only listen to the upbeat rhythms of espanol which I could let kookaracha through my heart without effect. I could pretend that they were singing about spicy dishes or dancing in the streets even though they were probably covering the same relationship break-ups.

 

Denial was the name of my new best friend.

At any rate, when the tears would begin to well up in the corner of my eyes while watching a movie in the theater, I realized that if I took a slow, deep breath and let it out slowly that the tears in my eyes would recede. A few more slow breaths and I could sit there and not make a complete fool of myself crying out loud. I began using this technique at the very onset of a thought of a tear and it would work even better. The bags under my eyes could begin to recede. 

You might be going through something right now that makes T.V. watching, Hallmark commercials, puppies, and life, in general, bring on a wave of emotion to which I am saying,

breathe. 

When you feel the emotional tsunami coming , take a slow, calculated breath and let it out slowly.

Tell yourself,

breathe,

and keep breathing. If you talk to yourself you'll realize that there is a daughter, a son, a cat . . . who

needs
you
 to

breathe

even though you just want to jump off the nearest Empire State Building. That's messy.

Don't do it.

KEEP BREATHING

I am learning that the moment I wake up in the morning is a good time to do just that and I've added 'praying for others'. If you wake up in the morning and start praying or thinking of others rather than "poor little me", it will help you get your mind off yourself. Give twenty dollars out of your wallet, purse, pant's pocket to that person carrying a cardboard sign at the corner of the busy street you drive by and be thankful it's not you 'cause in this economy, it very well could be any one of us out there begging to live.

If they want to

keep breathing,

you should too.

As long as you keep breathing there's the chance that you will wake up one morning and the sun will be shining and everything you've ever wanted is right there in front of your eyes. You're worth it.

Don't give up.

BREATHE

© nancy 8.28.2009

FLOWER
I was wondering what I could write about this afternoon and came up with the word 'flower'. Why? Because I love flowers and I love taking pictures of flowers. I like planting them and watching them grow and bloom. They're fascinating.

When I bought a macro lens, I got deeper into the blooms and saw how intricate and sensuous they can be which made me think about God and His creations. You are always hearing people say, “Write about what you know” and I know a little about flowers. 

I looked up the word 'flower' in Webster's and the definition reads : 1. the blossom of a plant.

I looked up 'blossom' to see if further details would unfold: 1. the flower of a plant.

Hmm . . . not much help. It smacked of the chalked equation on blackboards in math class: if A equals B and B equals C, then A equals C. See?

Perhaps the next definition of 'flower' would be more helpful: 2.a the part of a seed plant comprising the reproductive organs and their envelopes if any, esp. when such envelopes are more or less conspicuous in form and color.

First of all, you have to wonder about the minds who wrote this stuff because it is devoid of emotion, elation, excitement, anything. You can hear the guy in Ferris Bueller's class drone on . . . Anyone? . . . Anyone? . . . Bueller?

Huh? Wiping the drool off the mental desk of my mind I had to realize that the second definition was more graphic than I expected or wanted, but it does define some of those macro shots I took, I must admit. Webster's then offered a complete diagram of a flower in cross-section with all of its body parts named. I know flowers aren't human, but the names of its parts sure sound male/female. The diagram should have a rating on it like 'NC17' or 'Parent's Discretion Advised for 13 or Below' because your progeny, of whom you are so proud of at the I-can-read age of 5, will deftly peruse definition number 2a, then ask you in their sweet, innocent voice, 'what's an ovary'? You may not be comfortable or ready to discuss that word yet because it's hard for you to even let it blossom out of your own mouth.

So, take them by their pudgy, little hands, smile and suggest going out in the garden instead. Smell the roses. When they are sixteen, you can let them look through your macro lens and get a glimpse of a blossom in all its exposed glory.

(c) nancy 8.6.2009

THE SEVEN SECOND RULE

In 2000 I made up The Seven Second Rule.

A friend of mine and I found ourselves separated from long term marraiges so we stuck together like glue to help each other get through the days. We were High School friends but had not seen each other since graduation. I learned from another High School friend that my other friend was going through the same thing I was, and she suggested I call her, so I took seven seconds out of my day to 'dial' her number and connect. It was seven seconds that would prove to give me hours/years of friendship.

And that's all about the Seven Second Rule . . . taking seven seconds out of your day/life to connect. (I may have to rename it The Ten Second Rule because now you have to include the area code when dialing someone on your cell phone.)

We began discussing the fact that, if someone really cared about you, was seven seconds too much to ask?

Our answer was always a resounding, “No!”

Yet some folks consider seven seconds to be too much.

Really?

Because we can take our phones with us wherever we go, then “I couldn't find the time/I have been so busy” becomes a non-issue. Just be honest and say, “I didn't want to talk to/with you”. That would be better than side-clicking someone, which is the new thing you can do to the caller, throwing them directly into voicemail, breaking their train of thought to the point they end up stuttering, “Hey . . .  um . . . ” and are left hanging in mid-air with the phone raised in front of their faces in confused silence.

Cell phones were still new to some people in 2000. But if your girlfriend/boyfriend had a cell phone, and gave that number to you, then it was deemed even more personal. “Yea, let me give you my cell phone number” and you were instantly special. Giving that number to someone implied you were there for that person 24/7. And you would return their calls as soon as possible, (no lie), if you truly were in a board meeting. And if they were super special, you could put them on speed dial.

Now we use our cell phones as our primary phones because some of us do not have a landline. Cell phones these days are so small that they can go silently into the movie theater with you, rest in your pants pocket while you tee up or, should I delicately say, go into the bathroom with you. So while you're sitting there (girls) or standing there (guys) for more than ten seconds off and on all day, you could use The Seven/Ten Second Rule. (I can hold the phone in one hand and punch in the numbers and, with practice, you can too, so there's no excuse). Remember to flush, but don't flush your friends down the commode. Call them.

Aren't they worth more than seven/ten seconds of your precious day?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the answer.

(c) nancy 8.4.2009