FAMOUS LAST WORDS

 Last night, we were on the couch watching TV in the living room when I turned to Will, and wearing a big smile, I told my husband that I'd realized I had no pain—anywhere!  Famous last words.

Not more than minutes, later, I felt need to use the bathroom.  Having left my shoes under the coffee table, I was in my socks when guess who stepped off of our area run and slipped on our slick marbled, 18 square inch tiled floor, landing hard on the right side of my body.  Geez

Will was at my side in a flash.

At first, I laid there feeling disoriented.  Seriously.  What was I doing, lying on the floor.  Then, I chose to move my right wrist, arm, leg and hip, very carefully.  Gingerly.  Praying that nothing had twisted or broken.  After a moment or two, Will bent toward me holding out both of his hands so as to help me to stand up.  Once on my feet, Mother Nature reminded me about where I’d originally been headed,

Fortunately (though I'm achy all along my right side), nothing was badly bruised or injured.  My sciatic nerve is throbbing but, all in all, two extra strength Tylenols and an extra long heating pad on high should see me feeling fine by tomorrow.

Throughout the day, I’ve continued to remind myself to feel grateful (especially at my age) that nothing is sprained or broken.

Soon after my sudden slide, my egg cracked wide open, and the emotional reaction, which had been repressed, over most of my life, was released followed by an Aha!  Moment concerning the current event that had caused my anxiety to arise in the first place.

At first, I thought the repressed emotion was fear.  But somehow, I’d felt as if fear, by itself, was missing ‘something’ that had not yet clarified within the conscious portion of my mind, leaving me facing a fearful enigma …

Annie

THE EGG AND I

Generally, whenever I feel compelled to pull this far into myself, as has proved true, this past week, something that I need to know about myself is working its way out of subconscious repression, and having worked with the astute nature of Carolyn’s therapeutic guidance (she has recently retired from her EMDR practice), I’ve just come to see that my power of intuition has been quietly waiting for a mental block to crack open (as naturally as would an egg), so as to expose whatever the conscious portion of my mind has been in denial of acknowledging—until now.

In short, my psyche has been readying itself to take a leap of faith so as to undergo yet another growth spurt of such a personal nature as to enhance my soulful connection to inner peace.

That’s all for today—more the next time we meet🙋🏻‍♀️

THOUGHTS WORTHY OF CONTEMPLATIVE CONSIDERATION

 It was a hard day’s night

(Not  really—I just couldn’t resist starting today’s post with that well stated lyric once  it popped into my mind)😊

Rather than a hard day, yesterday was quiet, as planned, with a little help from our friends, Marilyn and Joel (the first couple we’d met after moving to Phoenix, 46 years ago).  Yesterday afternoon, we four enjoyed a brief, masked and distanced patio visit.

Having experienced an overwhelming release of emotional commotion throughout the day, I’d expected to sleep soundly, last night, but that was not to be, because the sandman ran out of sand after sprinkling his wares over Will’s side of our king-size bed, and with nary a grain of sand in sight on my side, my sleeping pill was of no help, at all, so what did I do?  I cuddled with Will on his side of our bed; however, I’d tossed and turned, all night long until, having slept fitfully, if at all, I awakened to feeling mighty groggy, today.  Even so, here’s why I do not feel fretful in the least:  It’s likely that I’ll sleep well, tonight.

So, in addition to groggy, what else do I feel, today?

I feel less emotional commotion inside my head.  Though crystal clear clarity is not yet mine, my processor senses that today’s trains of thought will be more in keeping with clarity than had been true of my think tank, yesterday.

I’m also feeling more light-hearted than has been true, over these last four heavily weighted months, beginning with my nephew, Shawn’s sudden, wholly unexpected death, leaving my beloved niece, Jessica, utterly broken-hearted.

And though, as with every day, I know myself to be a physically petite person, I continue to feel surprised to see my lack of height while viewing myself in group photos, standing next to family and friends, because as small in physical stature as I prove to be, my spirit stands tall, and as to insight-driven trains of thought, which pop up inside my mind and then stream naturally out of my mouth, more feel worthy of contemplative consideration than those that do not.

In short, as human beings go, I’ve come to size myself up as, simultaneously, small and significant.

🙋🏻‍♀️😊Annie

COMMOTION OF EMOTION

 Only to relieve any feeling of suspense for those of you who have been awaiting the results of my chest CT and PET scan am I penning today’s post.

Both scans report no cancer anywhere within my body.

Though I know those results are stellar, I can’t clearly express my sense of relief until the commotion of emotion recently released from subconscious repression—so as to overwhelm the conscious portion of my thought processor with a confounding cacophony of ‘noise’ inside my head likened to a metropolitan orchestra warming up—has had time to calm itself down.

😶Annie

A MINDFUL SENSE OF POSITIVELY FOCUSED ANTICIPATION

Night before last, I slept well but felt anxious upon awakening.

Last night, I’d awakened several times, and yet, this morning, I feel alert and peaceful.  Happy, actually.

Go figure.

This afternoon, Will and I will see my oncologist and thoracic surgeon in back-to-back appointments at which time we’ll receive and discuss the results of my chest CT scan and PET scan—and for some reason, I feel completely self-assured that following both appointments, we’ll have received sound reason to celebrate only good news.

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

MY SIDEKICK TAMES A MILD ATTACK OF PTSD

 Good morning,

My night was so restive that I fell asleep on our living room couch, before 10pm.  Then, once Will was ready for sleep, he helped his groggy wife into our bed, where I slept soundly till about 8:30, this morning.

However, upon awakening with anxiety as my sidekick, I’m awaiting an Ativan to kick in and calm my anxious reaction, which I believe Carolyn (my EMDR therapist) would attribute to a mild attack of PTSD.  In fact, it’s highly likely that I’d be seeing Carolyn via FaceTime with these scans looming overhead had she not retired, last year.

In order to help myself as best I can, my mind focuses upon this current set of scans rather than dwelling upon frightening results following last year’s CT and PET scans, in which the leiomyosarcoma had revealed its recurrence within my right lung—suggesting my need to undergo chemo treatments (goodbye hair—again), destroying my blood production—again—followed by another lengthy painful recovery in the aftermath of a second right lung surgery—again— and though the entirety of my right lung had needs be removed, thank goodness, no heart and venous involvement proved malignant, second time around.

With my casual study of ‘No Fear Shakespeare’ resuming, this coming Thursday, via Zoom, I’ll reread Measure By Measure, today, and then watch the play on PBS in preparation for this semester's first class.  In this way the proactive portion of my mind will remain productively well occupied, throughout the day, while  I await appointments, first with my oncologist followed by my thoracic surgeon, concerning the results of my most recent scans, tomorrow.

Over this past year, I’ve found that each time I choose to maintain a quiet environment of solitude while proactively engaging my mind with that of The Bard, my decision-making process encourages all of me to feel well-balanced and peaceful, and fortunately, while spending this time with you, I feel as though my little friend, Ativan, has begun to kick in, as well.

Over these past two years of serious illness, my thought processor has had plenty of practice absorbing insights spotlighting my need to take good care of my spirit’s well being just as I’ve always naturally taken good care of my dearest family and friends, ever since tragic circumstances lumbered heavily through our front door, terrifying a sweet little girl half to death, two weeks shy of my having turned the tender age of three at which time the dark ghostly presence of the Specter of Death, swinging his scythe menacingly overhead, terrified my subconscious psychic into a statue-like state in which I’d hold onto deeply repressed, undeserved guilt concerning my baby sister’s death, over most of my life until the astute listening skills of a therapist suggested my need of EMDR therapy, followed by strongly suggesting that I see no one but Carolyn, who’d authored the text on EMDR studied by masters candidates at universities throughout the world, and much to my good fortune, Carolyn lived and practiced in the southwest desert, just 20 minutes from our home.  

Though having been married for about 35 years before meeting with Carolyn, Will and I gained more insight into ourselves, each other, our marriage and our adopted places in our families, based in PTSD, than we’d been able to identify through our entire lives as the emergence of each insight led to the next as quickly as popcorn popping in piping hot oil.  And with insights concerning the effects of PTSD lighting up like fireworks on the Fourth of July, Will and I had just cause to enjoy growth spurts that saw us reinvent our personal traits, resulting in change for the better within every relationship that we’d ever treasured, being that one lasting change leads to many more.

And though, episodically, Will’s mind and mine feel mild to middling levels of repressed anxiety emerge, due to today’s stimulation of past trauma by any current situation that empowers our defense systems to set off alarms that hijack our processors into terrorizing our minds to feel the same as has been true during terrifying moments based in childhood’s experiences, long past, I can encourage Will to feel safe more readily than he can do that with me unless I ask to be wrapped safely in his embrace, as would any three year old child fearful of having somehow destroyed her beloved family’s peace of mind.

(If I just offered you a word maze that was difficult to maneuver your way through, I hope you can understand the complexity of my emotional reaction that ran interference with my brain’s connection to clarity while writing the paragraph above.

As to why I think to calm Will without being asked—well—our minds work in mysterious ways, and once my processor began to believe deeply in the timely emergence of my intuitive powers, insight began to pop more readily into the conscious portion of my thought processor than has been true for Will, who’d devoted most of his adult life to the absorption of scientific studies concerning medical procedures of which I know next to nothing.  In other words, our relationship comprises a separation of personal powers.

With hopes that your night felt restful following up with a Sunday, providing for pleasant activities, which keep your mind peacefully, productively entertained—I plan to do the same.

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie 

LET THE CELEBRATION BEGIN!

I was told that the radiologist would read my PET scan, yesterday, but more than likely, those test results would not appear on my portal until Monday.

 Though we’d not expected to arrive home from yesterday’s 2:45pm appointment at Mayo until 6:00, everything leading up to my 30 minute PET scan moved so smoothly that we’d pulled into our driveway by 5pm, and upon walking into our house, my first thought was—breakfast!—being that I’d just experienced a day of fasting NBM except for water.

Boy oh boy!  Did that mouth-watering, moist slice of pumpkin bread, heated, of course, taste great going down!

At 6:45 I’d indulged in a Margarita (already mixed—after two years of quarantining, I am easily pleased).

At 7pm DoorDash delivered delicious steaks—fillet for Will—ribeye for me—mashed potatoes (Will) baked potato with all the fixings (me) creamed spinach and cheese melting over steamed broccoli—comfort food—yum!

If I’ve learned anything, over recent years it’s this:

Nothin’ wrong with celebrating yourself as you would your best friend!  So whether we receive results before my back-to-back doctors appointments (scheduled for this coming Monday) or not—Will and I chose to hope for the best while celebrating each other and ourselves, beginning with our scrumptious self-indulgent dinner, last night!

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

4 PERCEPTIVE PERSPECTIVE: ONE DOWN ONE TO GO

 Though my intuitive powers continue to be quiet, my oncologist cared enough to reach out to say that no existence of recurring tumor had been found once the results of my chest CT scan had been read.  As Will and I had expected to hear nothing until my back-to-back doctors appointments on Monday, our mutual sense of relief was happily surprised to receive such good news on the very same day that the CT scan had been taken.

With my PET scan appointment scheduled for this afternoon, let’s hope that once the radiologist will have read and reported the results of today’s full body scan, Will and I will be given sound reason to rejoice, having been offered the same great news as we’d received following yesterday’s CT scan of my chest.

Once again, the mind works in mysterious ways.  You’d think that having received yesterday’s positive report, I’d feel calm while the passage of morning hours will have led up to this afternoon’s PET scan; however, much to my surprise, ever since awakening at 7am, anxiety has been my constant companion though, certainly not by choice. And as my hyper state of mind has found it impossible to settle into anything resembling an angle of repose, I offered my overactive adrenalin glands an Ativan washed down with water in hopes of calming the overflow of adrenalin racing through my blood stream before this utterly unexpected, physically symptomatic reaction to fear has gained complete control over my thought processor.

I mean, seriously—alongside a high strung filly, named Anxiety, whose ability to stay on track is far from stellar, we see my strong sense of positively focused Hope picking up her pace until this pair of opposing reactions are seen running neck to neck round the bend inside my head, and as Hope takes the lead, and if Hope is my horse with Ativan as my jockey then I plan to bet on this pair running at such a well balanced gait as to cross the finish line feeling cool as a cucumber way before Anxiety has been able to get her bearings straight.

Having experienced several of Cancer’s failed attempts to break my spirit, I get along with a little help from my friends, which, like the National Guard, are called upon only as needed to help me regain peace of mind.

Whew!  I really appreciate your lending your ear once my intuitive voice felt need to say its piece—actually, with a little help from all of my friends, human, prescriptive or imaginative, my belief in calming my mind so as to adopt a Hopeful attitude empowers my sense of wholeness to feel so much more at peace.

In fact, every time I’ve been wheeled into Mayo to submit to yet another testing procedure that may lead to additional surgery, I, like Hope, feel as cool as a cucumber sporting salt and peppered hair, which feels a lot better than vegging at home with no hair, at all!

Annie

3 THE MIND WORKS IN MYSTERIOUS WAYS

 Why am I about to say that, today, my spirit’s positively focused sense of hopefulness has come into play more so than on any other day?

Today, a CT scan of my chest is scheduled at Mayo.

Though two nights ago saw my mind wrestling with sleep, last night’s sleep offered up a sense of restful communion with peace of mind restored.

If you ask why that might be, I’ll have to admit that my power of intuition has offered the conscious portion of my mind no clue as to what may be easing my way within my subconscious—as of yet.  On the other hand, once my intuitive voice has spoken, I’ll be sure to pass on to you whatever insight will have been clearly revealed to me.

Annie

2c THE TIMELESS CONTAGIOUS TRINITY OF KINDNESS, BEAUTY AND YOUTH

  “To … Clifford … Phoebe … was especially necessary. Not that he could ever be said to converse with her … But if she were a long while absent he became pettish and nervously restless, pacing the room to and fro with the uncertainty that characterized all his movements; or else would sit broodingly in his great chair, resting his head on his hands … Phoebe's presence, and the contiguity of her fresh life to his blighted one, was usually all that he required. Indeed, such was the native gush and play of her spirit, that she was seldom perfectly quiet and undemonstrative, any more than a fountain ever ceases to dimple and warble with its flow. She possessed the gift of song, and that, too, so naturally, that you would as little think of inquiring whence she had caught it, or what master had taught her, as of asking the same questions about a bird[…]”

Excerpt From

House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne

All the old man had need of to brighten his dearth of spirit (so as to replicate the young man he’d been before his entire being had been broken by sorrows too tragic for words) was to have Phoebe’s light-hearted, positively focused, naturally loving spirit, nearby, and while in the company of this delightful young woman, the old man’s spirit would re-ignite, though only momentarily…

You see, having spent so many dark, damp, dreadful years within solitary imprisonment (innocent of any wrong doing), the old man’s spirit, having experienced naught but the despair of hopeless loneliness, had not even an ember of self trust left to re-ignite on his own, and therefore, only in the presence of young beauty’s human kindness did the old man’s spirit—so thoroughly broken during his youth—briefly revive.

Once the old man’s spirit had been shattered beyond repair, like a lightbulb, his attention could only be switched on, temporarily, during moments whence this young woman's human kindness shone bright as a sun beam directly at him, suggesting that as soon as Phoebe was out of sight, the light switch on the old man’s defensive ‘wall’ would automatically switch his heart broken spirit back to off, suggesting that so horrendous had been the entirety of his adult life (due to his hard-hearted cousin’s unjust self-empowerment), that joy could never again be an inside job …

And as details of abject misery as penned within today’s post linger within your mind, I wonder if you’ve ever spent time with as broken a human spirit as Hawthorne hath chosen to showcase by way of fleshing in the character named Clifford, who, having been freed to return at this ‘late hour’ to the home of his innocent youth, had proved to be so disconnected from compassionate human interaction (in Phoebe’s absence) as to stay put wherever he’d been placed until some caring soul felt need to move the mindless melancholy old man (for example from chair to bed), yet again.

Perhaps you can see why, having inhaled 75% of this morbid tale, I’ve chosen to lighten its downward pull on my spirit by setting aside this classic telling of utter despair in favor of whiling away hours of my quarantined day by turning the pages of any novel penned by Nicolas Sparks until my restrengthened, sense of self, feeling rebalanced (between the heavy hopeless misery of inhumane deprecation and the lightness of a hopeful warm-hearted human being in search of lasting love), frees my spirit to float above fear of that which my one lung may not be able to withstand if Covid should darken our door … I mean, who needs E. A. Poe to scare us half to death when the unvaccinated unmasked populous continues to uncage this pandemic, which still sees far too many crowding in intensive care units, dependent upon ventilators, struggling for breath so as not to die—alone—and counting myself amongst the boostered then hopefully, if you’ve followed my posts, over these last two grueling years then you can understand why I continue to seek insight into holding my bright mind accountable for consciously tapping into my spirit’s well balanced, inner connection to personal joy regardless of the head-spinning, mindless, worldwide commotion that would surely shatter my positively focused peaceful mindset—if my strong-hearted mindful, courageous sense of self awareness was to forget to stand guard patiently and proactively over my very real physical vulnerabilities—

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

. 

BELATED CELEBRATIONS INCLUSIVE OF MLK

 Due to a variety of illnesses experienced by Steven and Ravi, yesterday was the first time we were able to enjoy our son and grand daughter in several weeks.

I’d meant to introduce the brilliance of Martin Luther King’s leadership skills to seven year old Ravi until my mind was sidetracked, because we’d seen so little of each other for so long that we’d not yet celebrated Steven’s birthday, together, or Chanukah (which having come early, began during Thanksgiving weekend). And by the time our family’s lunchtime, belated celebrations wound down, my energy gave out, and the only thought that processed clearly through my wearied mind was—I need to lie down—asap.

During the aftermath of three life-saving surgeries, I’ve grown practiced at ‘listening to the needs of my body”, so I blew masked kisses to Steven and Ravi while they continued to enjoy generous slices of chocolate birthday cake, which would have been forgotten had Steven not seen the cake box (on the kitchen counter) through the Arcadia door, suggesting that with a paucity of oxygen intake, a bright actively engaged mind becomes as lucy-goosey as a ball player, hoping to homer by swinging at the pitcher’s fast ball with a huge wet noodle … and if you ask why that’s so, I’d reply that within an hour and a half of social interaction, my brain depletes of energy and since my brain is my body’s engine, I feeling like a car that’s run out of gas, seek out my refueling station, which happens to be my bed, so that’s where I’d headed without delay.

Just as we’d cared about welcoming Ravi’s participation in our family’s traditional celebrations (belatedly), my choice to honor the remarkable life and timeless legacy of Martin Luther King’s peaceful marches for liberty, freedom, and equality (in hopes of assuring justice for all regardless of race, creed or color) by engaging with Ravi’s thirsty young mind at a time when my mind, being fully oxygenated, functions much less like a limp noodle, much more like a well rested think tank releasing insights, which have been known to coach the younger generation to keep an eye on the ball, run the bases and make it home with plenty of time to cuddle with Gramma after choosing from my library of children’s books, many of which showcase biographies of national icons, men and women of great importance, having courageously devoted their lives to causes that benefit one and all.

And so, will the biography of a great man, tragically assassinated by a bigot in the prime of his life, be chosen to read aloud and discuss with Ravi, the next time we enjoy each other’s company on our patio—safely masked with N95’s, energy fully charged and minds open to soaking up wisdom passed down by sages through the ages, and in this way will a spotlight highlight the sage who’d had a wondrous dream inclusive of all human beings, and if, having spent time with her gramma, Ravi is asked to name this specific sage, her nimble young mind will surely reply, Martin Luther King (Jr. )

Annie

2b IT CAN BE CALMING TO PREDICT THE UNPREDICTIBILITY OF THE FUTURE

Rather than freeing fear to gain total control over my present state of mind, I work toward calming anxiety by reminding myself to regain a mindful sense of control over my fears, especially those that begin with ‘what if”, based in the fact that the future, being unpredictable, remains uncertain for one and all—inclusive of that which may or may not manifest as your future and mine and that of our loved ones unfold.

“Our thinking minds deprive us of the happiness that comes when we are living fully in the moment.”

      — Ram Dass (a teacher)

Paraphrasing Ram Dass—-

At the end of the day, we’re all just here to walk each other home

Ram Das was the son of Mahatma Gandhi)

Annie

2a THE KEY TO REDIRECTING MY THOUGHTS AWAY FROM DARKENED TUNNELS WHERE FEAR REIGNS SUPREME

 Last Thursday, I’d Facetime’d with my psychologist, whose professional prowess has, yet again, broadened my scope (so as to rebalance a fear that I’d revealed) by offering my emotional reaction an expansive sense of logic that my anxiety (based in my upbringing) had forbidden my mind to process on my own.

Thank goodness for Gary, whose astute awareness of my personal growth provides my processor’s connection to pre-worry with a guiding light whenever my personal perceptions have, yet again, begun to wander through darkened tunnels where fear of ‘what if’ reigns supreme.

Each time my thought processor stresses over ‘what if this terrible thing should happen’, I have learned to challenge my whole self to ‘live in the moment’, thus redirecting my thoughts to focus solely on ‘right now’ before my previous thoughts have had time to stimulate anxiety to spike.

This does not mean that the fear I’d revealed to Gary concerning ‘what if’ has been vanquished but rather that my anxiety level lowers each time I remember to weave logic, more readily, into my processor’s natural thinking pattern (imprinted deeply during my youth) so as to re-stabilize my personal sense of regrounding myself (in this very moment) though matters concerning the unpredictable future remain beyond my control.  Whew!  And Amen!  To having sought guidance toward adopting a mindful method of stress reduction, which, with practice, empowers my processor to calm pre-worrisome thoughts concerning situations that may actually never manifest outside of the fearful portion of my mind.

Annie

If joy is an inside job, so is regaining peace of mind.

1b CHOOSING TO LIVE FROM MOMENT TO MOMENT QUELLS FEAR

I’m always glad to have good news to send to you!😊

With yesterday’s test for covid indicating that Steven is negative, he and Flicks (one of his two Rhodesian Ridgebacks) have made their way home from the cabin (where my son chose to quarantine for close to two weeks, so that Ravi could go to school) just in time to celebrate Steven’s 51st birthday, today.

My mind is so much more at rest, knowing that in the midst of this lengthy pandemic, my immediate family (and hopefully, yours) is well, again (at least for right now).

With sage advice, passed down through the ages, highlighting the good mental health of choosing to ‘live in the moment’, that’s exactly what I plan to do throughout (what I hope to be) the rest of today’s peaceful mindset.

 🙋🏻‍♀️🙂Annie 

1a EXEMPLIFYING HAWTHORNE’S PRESENTATION OF DEEPER TRUTH

“It would be like flinging a porcelain vase, with already a crack in it, against a granite column. Never before had Hepzibah so adequately estimated the powerful character of her cousin Jaffrey,—powerful by intellect, energy of will, the long habit of acting among men, and, as she believed, by his unscrupulous pursuit of selfish ends through evil means. It did but increase (her) difficulty that Judge Pyncheon was under a delusion as to the secret which he supposed Clifford to possess. Men of his strength of purpose and customary sagacity, if they chance to adopt a mistaken opinion in practical matters, so wedge it and fasten it among things known to be true, that to wrench it out of their minds is hardly less difficult than pulling up an oak.”

Excerpt From

House of the Seven Gables by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Why doth I choose to quote this passage of Hawthorne’s words penned, long ago?

Currently, we continue to wrestle with self serving, mean minded politicians, whose false words convince millions that skin color determines to which ‘caste’ one ‘must’ belong.

And the fact that these power-hungry human beings so easily convince millions of followers to spread the pandemic nature of Covid from coast to coast by reducing the variants (proven to kill many more of those who remain unvaccinated) to catching a cold—ignore the fact that colds fail to kill those who refuse to safeguard the lives of dearly loved family and treasured friends simply by wearing a N-95 mask.

I’ve come to believe that a horrific event within each next generation must come to be, which opens the eyes of one half of the world’s population to the terrifying fact that millions of people with whom we share this planet are truly sheep, who, having been easily led by a hard hearted shepherd, will turn on one’s neighbor, and with fully loaded gun in hand, shoot the innocent dead without so much as a moment’s remorse, afterward.

With a quick backward glance over the historical timeline of mankind, the veracity of today’s deeper truth must be more readily and consciously absorbed if you and I are to benefit from a sense of acceptance concerning the fact that within this world, which we share with millions of sheep in the guise of men and women, is the next generation of sheep, raised to think with herd mentality above sagacious individuality.

So, half of our world has not gone crazy.

Half of the young of our world have always been raised by adults raised by adults raised by adults, who numbering in the millions, have absorbed nothing of both sides of human nature vying for brain space inside of everyone’s head.  And as children learn by mimicking—that which they see and hear most often is what we can expect most of them to grow up to become

And thus once again—the truth hurts—until—the truth sets us free of believing our generation to be any the worse of all that hath been borne by good hearted spirits who—having placed their faith in educating their young to embrace open minded, positively focused Solution-seeking skills, had had less knowledge to work with than is true of educators, today, concerning how best to better the lives of one and all.  And just as our grandchildren’s generation will tap into intuitive wisdom that escapes the minds of most people organizing marches in hopes of creating change for the better, today, our historic time line dictates that illusive changes for the better will surely manifest within a generation yet to be born.

That, my friends is the gist of my classic story of human endurance, and with intuition serving as my guiding light—I’m sticking to it.

Annie

NOT A WALK IN THE PARK

As I continue to read the novel, House of the Seven Gables, this quote garnered special attention …

“Is not the world sad enough, in genuine earnest, without making a pastime of mock sorrows?”

You see, that quote led to my asking—why did Nathaniel Hawthorne choose to pen tales concerning life’s greatest sorrows, which, in one way or another, challenge one and all to call forth a host of inner strengths, which continue to develop )or not), over the entirety of each person’s life time

In answer to my question, my intuitive voice had this to say—novels that prove most compelling are penned by authors who write in depth of that which they have intimate knowledge..

It’s also of interest to note that though I found the first several chapters of this novel to be slow-going, once the introduction of characters began to increase, the storyline picked up its pace, and though this read has not yet become a page-turner by any means, I’ve begun to wonder what’s to become of a charming woman named Phoebe, who, blooming with the beauty of youth’s good health, has joined the cast of characters, which (excepting the welcome addition of this cheerful young thing) had been described as so thoroughly morose that, clearly, the accumulation of every life experience had proved more painful than the human spirit, so cruelly broken, could bear. 

And so, why, you might ask, do I choose to plow on when reading this novel feels like a yoke weighing heavy round my neck?  Well—a novel doth not become a classic for no reason.  And that deeper truth hath aroused my curiosity to see where Hawthorne plans to take his characters (and his readership) until a lesson of such great importance hath been delivered so as to make a classic of this story, which, thus far, hath led me down a path so muddied by sorrow as to safely declare that having slogged half way through this tale of woe has, thus far, dragged my spirit as far away from a walk in the park as this voracious reader can get.

And yet, with persistence heartening my determined mindset to forge ahead I remain hopeful that, before too long, terrain, muddied by broken hearted sorrow, will clearly be seen as hallowed ground …

👩🏻Annie

MINDFUL CONTROL OVER PROCRASTINATION

So, my sister said that it takes up to three hours from the time she decides to ride her stationery bike until she manages to actually get herself on it.  Will says he procrastinates, every day, before riding the stationery bike that David set up in our guest room.  So since procrastination seems to be the norm as the pandemic rages on, hopefully, I’ll begin to feel as compassionate concerning my procrastination as is true when considering that of my sister and husband.

BTW, I’ve decided to walk a little farther, every few days—not easy, as we live in the foothills, so on both sides of our house, the street slopes down, suggesting our house stands at the peak of a gentle rise, suggesting why I can walk away from our home with a sense of ease; however walking back toward our patio’s wrought iron gate (painted beige to match the stucco of our house) demands a mindful sense of concentration as I make my way back up that slope knowing each step to be a bit steeper than the last until I unlatch the gate and sit down on one of four swiveling rocking chairs so as to rest and converse with Will about this and that while comfortably catching my breath before my pleasant walk with Will begins to resemble a breathless uphill trek for me.

Today, having taken control over my daily bout with procrastination, I chose to walk a bit farther than had ever felt possible, following my back to back, heart/lung surgeries of a year and a half ago.  And while resting, afterward, on one of our colorful swiveling, rocking patio chairs, I smiled up at the clear blue sky in acknowledgement of how good it feels to regain some measure of control over each aspect of my life, which had proved beyond my ability to reclaim for more than three years time, beginning with the heaviness of fatigue, which had (for more than a year) accompanied the misdiagnosed pain in my chest.

And as to the depths of my thankfulness for Will’s unswerving dedication to my making a full recovery neath his protective wing no matter how long the time—well suffice to say that so heartfelt is his love as to offer sustenance, above and beyond, to my spirit,  day after day after day as this relentless pandemic goes on and on and on … and what, I ask, could make a woman feel more blessed than to feel so deeply loved by her husband of close to fifty-five years … I love you, Will, with all my heart … 👩🏻‍🤝‍👨🏼.Annie

A CLASSIC TALE OF HAVES AND HAVENOTS

 I’ve begun to read The House of Seven Gables, a novel that spans 200 years, beginning with the Salem witch trials (which will haunt the stately mansion referenced above) as penned by N. Hawthorne).  

As stories told by authors of Hawthorne’s genre are known to express human emotion in ways so dry as not to stir my sensitivity to empathize too deeply with their protagonists, I hope to enjoy the mastery of Hawthorne’s writing skills while absorbing this tale concerning a family of wealth and privilege, doomed to be haunted throughout two centuries, following the dishonorable decision of a hard-hearted ancestor, who’d condemned a decent commoner to death by declaring him a wizard in order to confiscate the richly fertile lands of an innocent man.

And so has yet another quiet day been spent in the company of fictional characters whom I’ve just met.  

Soon, Will and I will take our daily walk, outside, hopefully, offering us at least 10 minutes of physical activity.

As for now, I hope your day is as pleasant as possible while this pandemic rages on—🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

PS  if the truth be told (and though the weather is mild and sunny, my brain feels stuck in the mud as is true pretty much every day when it comes time to motivate myself to take a walk.  And having exposed that slice of my daily reality, This is as good a time as any to stop procrastinating and ready myself to walk with Will, right now!👩🏻‍🤝‍👨🏼

NEW COMPANIONS DURING PANDEMIC

 Sunday offered up a quiet day of Zooming football with our sons (who were far from quiet while watching our home team lose). Following that disappointment, Will can be seen sitting on ‘his’ end of our contemporary pewter leather living room couch (ordered directly from Copenhagen, no less), which, being directly across from our large screen TV (recessed into the wall) offers my husband the best seat in the house for viewing one game after another, while I can be seen lounging, nearby, on one of two matching charcoal leather loveseats (that face each other) with socked feet crossed at the ankle on our large square (edges rounded) salt n peppered coffee table, thus completing our modern U-shaped seating arrangement, which, taking up most of the floor space in our high ceiling’d living room, proves most conducive to easing conversational gatherings, and with iPhone in hand, I am scrolling through brief summaries of classic novels in hopes of enjoying one well written storyline after another in search of any that prove none too heavy, because during this pandemic, characters, who come to life as I turn pages, become my companions for hours, day after day, suggesting why their values, relationships and impassioned endeavors must stir my interest without arousing the current depths of my suppressed sense of loneliness or deeply repressed sense of untapped grief.

As reading to calm my anxious reaction to today’s unnerving reality concerning death passing over our front door is essential to maintaining my peace of mind, any and all suggestions within those perimeters will be deeply appreciated.

I hope your day has felt peaceful.  And if I close my eyes and call forth my imagination, I can visualize us sitting down to enjoy each other’s company while the delicious aroma of a savory home made stew wafts through the air, and while feeling all safe and cozy, seated comfortably at my candle lit dining room table, we’ll feel inspired to raise our glasses of wine in readiness to offer each other a heartfelt toast to our friendship, which, for countless reasons, is treasured beyond measure.  L’Chaim!

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

I HAVE BECOME AWARE OF BREATHING WITH A GREATER SENSE OF EASE

I believe you’ll be glad to know that this is a good news post.  Recently, for reasons as yet unbeknownst to me, I find myself reading, peacefully, much more often than seeking insight by way of writing.  And in addition to that change, here is another:  My awareness of breathing with a greater sense of ease has improved my outlook concerning regaining a greater sense of independence as the future unfolds.

Today, after showering and washing my hair, I decided to use my blow dryer for the very first time since my heart/lung surgeries, a year ago last July.  And here’s what’s so awesome about showering, washing my hair and blowing it dry—I’d felt no need of a rest until that trio of tasks had been complete.  Up until this week, taking a shower without washing my hair had tired me out.  So this change for the better suggests significant improvement concerning my lung capacity to oxygenate (energize) my brain as well as the rest of my body.  And as more than a month had passed since I’d last experienced a huge drop in my blood pressure, upon standing, I’ve not felt need to sit back down with immediacy so as not to black out.  

Yesterday marked the third day that Will and I walked outside without my walker, highlighting the fact that I’ve been walking without feeling need to sit down on the walker's seat to catch my breath, exemplifying improvement in my lung capacity, yet again.  (Though I cannot yet walk and talk if I hope to breathe with ease.)

Barry continues to feel better.  And as Marie has not had a fever, it's unlikely that her upset stomach has been due to the flu, which is cause for relief, as no family wants to fight COVID and flu, simultaneously.

The CT scan of Steven’s sinuses showed much less tissue swelling than any of us had expected, and thankfully, yesterday, he had no headache for the first time in two months.  If Steven tests negative for Covid, tomorrow, he’ll head home from the cabin—much to Ravi’s delight.

Last night, Will and I had FaceTimed with Ravi for about half an hour.  She made up a fanciful ‘Once upon a time story’ for us followed by my making up a story about Princess Ravi and her magical baby dragon 🐉.  I really enjoy Ravi’s imaginative fascination with fairies, magical fairy dust, flying baby dragons, glittering unicorns, princesses, and mermaids. The more the merrier  And her mindful engagement with big cats in the wild is notable, as well. .

🧞‍♀️🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏼‍♂️🧚‍♀️🧚🏻‍♂️🦅🦄🐯🦁

David’s good news reflects his good health.  And I feel thankful for that!

Though I wasn’t conscious of feeling anxious, yesterday, sleep escaped me throughout most of last night—perhaps because my PET scan and chest CT are scheduled toward the end of this month.

Anxiety does erupt, momentarily, whenever I think about being near anyone (inside or outside) except for Will.

Thank goodness, I was attentive when anxiety suggested my need to talk to Barry about his plan to drive here with his family, during winter break.  Thank goodness he agreed that cancelling that plan was prudent being that his first symptoms of covid emerged on the date that he, Marie and our grandsons (all of whom had tested positive) would have arrived.  Whew!

And now, since today’s post offers so many sound reasons to shore up my connection to positive focus, I’ll call it a wrap and send it off to you while my mind feels much more peaceful than has been true, over these past three months.  🙋🏻‍♀️🧚‍♀️Annie

FOREVER FRIENDSHIPS

Today’s post reflects my reply to a younger woman, the daughter of a dear friend.  Though I’d not heard from Rachel for quite a while, she received my heartfelt reassurance that apologies were unnecessary.

No worries, Rachel—I understand the nature of forever friendships, which truly describes our love for each other though we may remain out of touch for long periods of time.  As you’d hoped, I am feeling a little better, every day.

In fact, yesterday, I enjoyed my first walk outside with Will—without my walker—meaning that this was the first time since my last surgery in July that I’d placed my trust in not needing to sit on the seat of the walker to catch my breath—and as we’d enjoyed our walk without my feeling need to sit down, yesterday marked my awareness of a significant improvement in my ability to breathe while walking.  On the other hand, it’s true that walking while talking remains beyond my current capacity if I hope to inhale and exhale with ease.🙂.

Feel my warmest hugs, Rachel, just as I’ve always enjoyed yours, beginning when you were one of my very favorite little girls, whose big brown eyes, looking up at me, shone with love so naturally that I had felt, even then, that we were meant to be forever friends.

With hopes that you and your family are well …

I love you, Rachel!

And happy birthday, today, to your mom, my dear friend, Jill🙋🏻‍♀️❤️🎂

🙋🏻‍♀️❤️😘Annie

IF CHANGE IS THE ONLY CONSTANT IN LIFE THEN …

 Good morning,

Will just called Steven, who’s up north at the cabin, quarantining by himself with one of his two Rhodesian Ridgebacks, Flix.  I felt somewhat relieved to hear that Steven’s sinus headache is not as intense, today.  He’s expecting to receive an email containing the results of his CT scan, which he’ll then forward to me, and after Will reads the report, we’ll talk with Steven, again.

Steven also said that five of his six employees came down with COVID, last week, as did he.  The only employee who is not infected had been absent from Steven’s law office, a week ago, Monday and Tuesday, following which everyone else became symptomatic.  Over these past couple of years, Lupe (Celina’s mom) has worked for Steven, and she has a mild case of Covid, too.

I’ve not yet heard from Barry to find out how he (still with COVID) and Marie (over COVID but now with the flu) are feeling, today, or when the boys, who have returned from their father’s (who is insistent that they be returned to him on their court appointed days, COVID or not) can return to school.  Their Dad (known to be a superspreader, sent his sons to school on Monday, knowing that Tony had still tested positive for covid on Sunday).  They return to their father’s house at 5pm, today.  What a mess!  No wonder, over the years, Barry has learned to insulate his blood pressure from bursting through vessels, being that he’s learned, during lengthy custody battles, over these past nine years, how blind the courts in CA tend to be to what’s actually best for the kids.

For the most part, other than texting, David’s been quiet these last couple of days, and most importantly, he’s healthy.

These past three months have been deeply troubling, all around.  I felt need to take an Adivan, today.

Just as the state of my family’s well-being permeates my thoughts, every day, this has been such a terribly worrisome time for everyone throughout the world that I remain in awe of the fact that COVID has been empowered to create such a mess of millions of lives for close to two years with the light at the end of the tunnel still out of sight.

Though a widespread sweep concerning belief in masks and vaccinations would have seen us working together to shorten the length of this global pandemic, change for the better has not yet relegated this highly contagious virus to our rear view mirrors, being that the millions of stubborn closed minds continue to ignore well tested, medical guidelines, which—had these guidelines been readily absorbed—would have deemed us so seaworthy as to have left the disastrous repercussions of this ‘current event’ in our wake.

Thank goodness, the enduring strength of my positive focus fully believes that once this tunnel does end (and it will), our patience with change will catch sight of the first glimmer of light, at which time, we'll celebrate the fact that our love for each other will have brightened our spirits as we’d insulated our minds in hopes of minimizing frustration concerning that which remains beyond our control so as to concentrate a mindful sense of positive focus upon the eventual, inevitable resurgence of good health, abounding all around, at long last.

By expanding my hopes to include you and your family and friends, my chosen attitude of hopefulness will continue to focus upon the return to good health on the part of every precious person I love—the sooner the better.

If you’re not already doing so, Please mask up.  Please booster up.

If you’ve known yourself to be amongst the superspreaders, please consider the health of your children, their classmates and teachers and, of course, the vulnerability of your parents’ generation, because two years of butting heads within this darkened tunnel of turmoil is not about to end until we choose to wisely participate in the creation of change for the better, together.

Thank you for listening to my plea.

As for now, I hope that each time you choose to seek me out, the most open minded portion of your heartfelt human kindness will absorb more (than ever before) whatever my intuitive voice implores the conscious portion of my brain to clarify via penning posts, day after day.

👩🏻Annie

CAN WE CHOOSE TO INSULATE OUR MINDS?

Yesterday, my sister, Lauren, said she’d had no knowledge of Steven’s testing positive for COVID.  I wonder if that info had been sent to her on a text thread received by several members of our family.  But then, perhaps not as Lauren and I’d readily agreed that it’s been hard to tell what’s up with the state of her mind and mine, most especially over these past three worrisome months.

As I’ve continued to remind myself that the majority of my anxiety has been concerned with so much that’s beyond my control—this week, I noticed that the level of my anxiety has lessened, day by day, suggesting that conversations I’ve chosen to have with myself, while quarantining, may be insulating my think tank from absorbing the anxiety of my loved ones, which naturally had empathetically compounded my own..

👩🏻 Annie

PS

Having spoken with her son, my sister received confirmation of my having sent a group text to their family in which Steven’s testing positive had been mentioned. Though I’d thought that was the case, I’ve come to see that thinking myself ‘right’ has lost its importance when, in fact, so much continues to feel so terribly wrong throughout our entire our world. 

(❤️🎂Being that today is Jan. 5th, 2022, I’d like to wish my sister, Lauren, a happy and healthy 74th birthday with many more to come.  The photo below reflects happier times as it was taken four years ago at our wonderful 50th wedding anniversary party, hosted and planned by our three sons.)

  

BOY OR GIRL???

Today started out better than any day, during these last ten days—as both Barry and Steven feel so much better, though both still test positive for Covid.  And though everyone else in Barry’s house tests positive, my eldest son’s family is asymptomatic or feels no worse than had a cold been caught.

Celina and Ravi, (quarantining separately from Steven) are still testing negative.

Once Steven’s symptoms had not worsened beyond feeling like a cold, he decided to quarantine (along with one of his two Ridgeback’s) up north at our cabin, which must be quite picturesque, as our ‘get-away’ in the tall pines is covered with several inches of fluffy fresh snow.

Every Tuesday, Ravi’s school administers COVID tests  (to the children of parents, who’d signed on for this program).  Steven said he’ll check online, tomorrow evening, to see if Ravi's school is infested with the COVID varmint—I mean virus …

Today, my half hour echocardiogram took two hours.  The technician had trouble taking ultrasound pictures that clearly show my heart functions, because (he said) my heart may have shifted after my lung was removed.  And he had to deal with fluid (which had naturally filled the cavity inside my chest) as well as scar tissue.  I took advantage of the time taken by the technician to spread gel all over my chest by suggesting that if, by chance, a baby was seen floating in the fluid, filling my chest cavity, I’d like to know—boy or girl.  After a moment of utter silence, all four staff members burst into laughter. And so did I.

I believe today’s findings will show that my heart functions are fine.  It’s the PET scan (of my entire body) that will, hopefully, show no leiomyosarcoma—lurking anywhere inside me from head to toe!  And then the results of a chest CT scan will offer us a close up (a more detailed study) of everything that can be seen between my collarbone and my waist.  Those studies are scheduled to take place on January 21st and 22nd.

BTW—Will was able to accompany me into the waiting room at Mayo, today, and at some point, I asked one of four staff members, who had attended to the ultrasound of my heart functions, to let my husband know why a study that generally lasts for half an hour was stretching from late morning into midafternoon.  I sure do hope that, ultimately, the results of today’s echo offer my cardiologist all of the info that she expects to receive.

As for now, it’s 6:36 pm suggestive of —my being off to margaritaville!

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

PS   Although no sign of a baby was sighted during today’s ultrasound, the footprints of three precious little guys (all grown to manhood, over more years than I’d want to count.) will always be felt, singing and dancing, cavorting and laughing deep within my heart.

BATTERY OF TESTS BEGINS, TOMORROW

 With Omicron being hyper-contagious, I’m beginning to think of our house as a bomb shelter.

The battery of tests (administered every three months) to determine the current state of my health, begins, tomorrow.  Not looking forward to sitting in waiting rooms with other people—though knowing thateveryone at Mayo is required to wear a mask is a comfort. 

Actually, I don’t know if Will will be allowed to accompany me into any of buildings that make up the complex.  I may be on my own, again (with a volunteer pushing my wheelchair).🤔

COVID—HERE THERE EVERYWHERE

I’m glad to say that while facing reality, today, with clarity intact, my anxious reaction continues to be absent even though I know for a fact that Barry, Marie, Tony, Ray and Steven have all tested + for COVID.  And this change for the better—referring to the calm nature of my current demeanor—is highly significant, being that this remarkable change in attitude suggests my acceptance of the fact that the health of my offspring is beyond my control without so much as a hint of PTSD, niggling subconsciously at my peace of mind.

If the whole truth be told, this mental feat concerning a sense of inner calm replacing anxiety derives great comfort from the fact that, thus far, everyone who is symptomatic feels no worse than had a bad cold been caught.

I believe that today’s calming sensation is indicative of my narrow mindset expanding at least enough to accept my personal need to relax the angst of My Fixer 

As to my mention of PTSD, more about reason for that repressed reaction to erupt whenever any or all of my precious offspring are ill, sometime later …

🙋🏻‍♀️Annie

NEW YEAR’S DAY 2022

 My fervent New Year’s wish:

Let’s put our heads together, light a match to a long fuse attached to a bundle of dynamite sticks and blast every past, current and future variant of this COVID virus so far from Earth that its threat will never again darken our doors, and then, we’ll all live happily ever after!🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

If that’s too much to ask—I’m wishing for my wish to be granted, anyway!😉

Tomorrow, I’ll refocus my mental concentration upon that which is within my personal sphere of controL

As for today, here’s my second New Year’s wish—I wish everyone throughout the world enjoys 365 days of well-loved happiness, good health and inner peace along with an abundance of laughter!

If that’s too much to ask—I’ll go from 365 days to 364, but you’ll not see me bargaining any lower than that, because, from this day forward, I plan to enjoy a brand new tradition concerning my choice to block reality out of my mind on every New Year’s Day.  Why? Well, as of late, reality has seen me feeling far too serious without so much as having taken a break to enjoy a good chuckle—Sooo …

In order to remedy that sad situation, I plan to lighten and brighten the navy blue hue of my current mood by setting my sights on so much to smile about that I may actually be seen tickling my own funny bone, and since a gaggle of giggles can’t hurt, you may see me throwing a bit of silliness into the mix along with a hearty guffaw for good measure!

If 364 days of pure pleasure is too much to ask—I’ll run outside as soon as it’s dark and ask my lucky star to grant both of my wishes before even one doubting Thomas has had time to dismiss wish one and wish two as nothing more than wishful thinking! HA!

BTW—I’m glad to say that no latent sense of overwhelming grief masquerading as anxiety is hanging heavy over my spirit, today—hooray!

🥳🎉🎈🌷🧚‍♀️Annie