Watching My Words

In the next chapter, I read about how the words you say can influence your thoughts.  This is something that I believe is for the most part true; however I have found some difficulties with it.

In my day-to-day life, I often find myself in the role of peacekeeper, smoother-over, the “let’s think it over” person in more than one relationship.   I have the act of diffusing a situation down to an art.  But only when I am “saving” someone else’s bacon.  When it comes to attacks on me, I’m not that good. 

My first urge is to fight back, not always to inflict pain, but to at least defend myself.  However, over the years, I have learned to try to deflect the arrows being thrown at me with kindness, humility, or even self-depreciating humor.  But the attack still hurts.  I remember once this summer when I was being berated by someone I love for failing to so something I should have done.  I tried to keep smiling and point out that all was not lost- at worst we could always go buy what we needed.  This only caused a harsher response from them.  Upon hearing those hurtful words, I swear I felt a physical pain in my cheek, as though the muscle allowing me to keep smiling had snapped under the pressure. 

Often, I think people expect a certain response (anger, defensiveness) and they will keep upping the ante until they get that response.  So how in the world is this supposed to make me feel more positive about life?

What Was I Thinking?

So to combat the inevitable annual plunge into my own private hell, I’ve decided to at least try something different.  My mom gave me a copy of Peale’s “Power of Positive Thinking” and I began reading it this week.  Peale says it is important to replace negative thoughts with positive thoughts. 

As an experiment, I paid attention to my thoughts yesterday.  It was a typical day; my co-worker and I were out visiting with customers, which I really like to do. 

But I was amazed at how negative my thoughts were.  Before we even left in the morning, I told myself that I looked ridiculous in the new scarf a friend had given me and that my co-worker thought I was incompetent.  All of this was done without a word being said by anyone.

Once behind the wheel, an unidentifiable road kill prompted thoughts of people hitting dogs for sport, animals being tossed from car windows and even a brief, but disturbing, image of someone ripping the legs off of a kitten. 

Wow.  I think Mr. Peale and I have our work cut out for us.

As quickly as I realized where my thoughts had gone, I tried to replace them with fresh, happier thoughts. 

And as stupid as it sounds, I started to feel better. 

When I stopped assuming that everything was against me, (or when I replaced those thoughts with more positive thoughts) I actually felt happier. 

How crazy is that?  The circumstances are exactly the same.  The only thing different is what I allowed myself to think.

I think I will keep reading that book.  There is a long, cold winter ahead.

Struggling to Stay Afloat

Trying not to fall into the pit of depression is like trying to cross a swiftly moving stream by stepping on moss covered rocks.  It doesn't really matter if it's the current that gets me, or if it's the slick stones.  Either way:  If I fall, I'm fucked.

Getting All Swimmy

As I checked into a hotel last month, my co-worker who was standing beside me, wrinkled her nose as she complained about the smell.  “Yuck!  Why do hotels with pools always have to smell like mildew?”

I just gave her a weak smile in response, but in my mind, the scent had already transported me back to happy childhood days of swimming and splashing with other fellow travelers in heavily chlorinated water.  When travelling with my parents, finding a motel with a pool was the highlight of our trip.  And I wasn’t the only one who loved taking a dive.  Both of my parents would suit up and jump in.  My dad was always showing off his Special Pool Super Power, which was his ability sink straight to the bottom of the pool and then sit there without moving.  Mom and I were impressed with this feat, (of course!) no matter how many times we had seen it before.  I would try to imitate him, and I did pretty good if I do say so myself.  Apparently, the ability to sink like a rock is genetic.  As we hung out at the bottom, we left Mom, who was never a swimmer, quietly bobbing along the surface.  I’m sure she enjoyed the quiet, even though she knew she would be required to lavish praise on us both as soon as we came up for air.

I thought back to some of the last times I was in a hotel pool.  I was in Seattle about eight years ago on a business trip, and Mom was right there with me.  The pool was on 15^th or 20^th floor or something crazy like that.  Neither of us had ever gone swimming that high above the ground before!  Then there was the time I flew down and met my folks on their Florida vacation a few years ago.  It was a simple outdoor pool, but it was surrounded by banana trees and beautiful tropical flowers.  The last time must have been on Tybee Island (with my mom again!).   It had a great ocean view with none of the pounding waves.

Back to present day and the complaining co-worker.  I was scolding myself for not bringing my bathing suit with me on that trip.  Not that I would have gone for a swim anyway;  I mean, hotel pools are typically reserved for families with young children, or rough-housing youths, or even the occasional lone gentleman in a Speedo, but not a thirty-something woman on her own.  Dang you, society! 

But even as I stole a glance toward the pool as we walked to our rooms, I realized that it wasn’t so much the swimming I craved as much as it was the time with my parents.  When we were in the pool, we didn’t have to talk, so we didn’t argue.  There were no scoldings, no back talking, and no tension.  It was like an Instant Happy Family.  Just add water.

Learning to Blog Again

Why is it so hard to write that first blog post after not blogging for so long?  I just finished reading through some of my old posts.  Some were funny, some not, and some just left me wondering what in the world I could have been thinking when I posted them.  But I miss writing these posts, even when they are completely pointless. 
So why is it that I can't think of a single thing to post right now?