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Not the Same

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Not the Same

This past weekend Beth was sick and so I was left to my own devices for meals. This isn’t good. Friday night, I decided to warm up a few slices of pizza. I knew to coat the pan with non-stick spray and saw a bright yellow can on the counter. I picked it up and began spraying but immediately noticed it was foamy and didn’t smell like butter. By the time I realized I had the wrong can the fumes had got to me and I began coughing. I put down the can and stepped away to catch my breath. When I came back I looked at the bright yellow can and discovered it was oven cleaner. However, when I retrieved the non-stick spray from the cabinet it was in a bright yellow can as well. Beth would’ve noticed but I didn’t read the label, only looked at the color of the can and sprayed away. Though they looked similar they were not the same!

Wisdom teaches us that many things offer peace, awareness, mindfulness, and clarity. We grab whatever we see first and use it only to find our lives unchanged and perhaps negatively impacted. Wisdom can only be achieved through conscious, purposeful living. We must know what we are bringing into our lives and not just use what’s closest and easiest. A mindful life is possible but only if we are wise in our choices.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)

For more posts, reflections and writings, please visit: wwwthewannabesaint.com

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Common Thread

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Common Thread

Yesterday I told my therapist three distinct experiences that have happened to me since our last appointment. I do my best to remember or jot down events or emotional moments I encounter and relay them to her. I talk about how I felt, why I think I felt it, why I did something, what I thought would be the outcome, what happened to me and the result. I tell her these things because many times I’m not able to see the big picture because I’m so close to the events and experiences.

When I finished telling her my three stories she then asked a series of questions that gave me the ability to look at each one from a different point of view. I thought they were three separate, non-related moments but she was able to see a common thread and we discussed how and why I reacted in a certain way and the possible reasons they imprinted on me. It was an; “Aha!” moment that I was unable to see without the benefit of a pair of unbiased, professionally trained, eyes.

I don’t love therapy. I tolerate it. I know it’s an invaluable part of my treatment plan for chronic severe depression and a severe anxiety disorder. There are times I walk out wondering what was accomplished and there are; “Aha!” days. I don’t always like what I am shown or discover but I hope that every; “Aha!” helps my journey on this path called; “my life” be easier and worth the struggle.

blessings,
@BrianLoging

For most posts, reflections and other writings, please visit; http://www.thewannabesaint.com

Unseen

Unseen

Last Saturday I was bitten by something. Not sure what it was but when I took a shower in the afternoon a section of my arm was tender to the touch. I looked at the affected area, showed it to Beth, and came to the conclusion it was most likely a spider bite. What’s interesting is I have no idea when I was bitten. I cleaned out a cluttered shed, picked up tree limbs, worked on a plumbing issue under a deck, and visited the local dump. All of these could have been the place where I was bitten. I’ve kept a close eye on the bite and after a day of swelling, there is only a bruise. I will continue to monitor it.

I was reading an article today about how our childhoods shape us. We are, in part, products of our genes, cultures, families, neighborhoods and overall environments. Some people have spotty memories of their childhoods. They can recall certain events and experiences but its hard to put them all together. Others have vivid memories or feelings about things that happened to them when they were young. As we get older, where we grew up, how we grew up, what happened to us, reveals itself. Healthy childhoods often mean healthy adults. Hard, troubled, traumatic childhoods can lead to difficult adult lives. We may even feel our childhoods were happy and peaceful growing up only to realize as we get older there are unseen, unknowable, memories, experiences, and events that have caused unhealthy behaviors and coping skills. We may not remember but that doesn’t mean we aren’t impacted.

Who we are, what we become, have much to do with how we adapt, overcome and accept all part of our lives.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Words

Words

Today I had the privilege and duty to be a part of the memorial service for my father. It’s been surreal the last few days. So many errands to run, items to check off on a list, places to go, people to see. There’s been a sense of urgency, a nervous energy, a controlled chaos, riding a wave of sorrow and speed.  Because of the hectic pace of the last several days, I stood on the stage behind the pulpit at the service this afternoon with no notes, and no structure to the stories and experiences I wanted to share.

Words, they’ve flooded my mind and soul since Dad passed. Words from family and friends who care and are sorry for our loss. Words that go into an obituary, on a card for flowers, in a service program and used in phone calls, emails, and texts. So many words used to describe the love a family has for one who is, was, the central fixed, point.

Now, standing behind the pulpit at the memorial service today, I had no notes, no words written, no solid ideas, memories swarming in my head but none coming in for a landing. How do you choose the right words to convey the meaning of a life which impacted many people?  In the pantheon of phrases, how do you pick out those which will express the purpose of a life lived well?

A deep breath, a small prayer, and … share my heart, open my lips, loosen my tongue and let the words come. No, they will not be adequate. No, they will not be perfect. Yes, there will be second-guessing and memories that are forgotten to be shared.

Words. They are not, and cannot contain the heart’s cry of longing and loneliness or succinctly express the fondness, the love, the good of being apart from a person you love. This is okay. Living, being, existing, is more than words, deeper than condolences, greater than expressions of sympathy and sadness.

Living should be beyond our ability to communicate it easily if it is done well.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Hurry!

Image result for skid marks on road

Hurry! –

Today, I was driving down my driveway getting ready to pull out on to the main road. As I approached I noticed there was a truck coming and so I slowed down to wait. However, the truck was going at a snail’s pace so I pulled out, rather, quickly, in front of it. I hit the gas harder once my tires were on the asphalt and put a lot of space between me and the truck. I kept checking in my rearview mirror to make sure the truck was out of sight. This one decision impacted the rest of my day because I spent it behind every slow-moving vehicle and driver. Work trucks, buses, elderly drivers talking to their passengers, young drivers talking on the phone. Even on the way home, I spent the last 5 miles behind a big pick-up truck which was hauling another truck on a trailer.

I was forced to wonder if I hadn’t jumped in front of the slow-moving truck and instead have taken a breath and simply waited, would this have reset my day? Perhaps I’d been a few minutes slower but missed all the other obstacles?

Hurrying, rushing, pressing, not being mindful, has its consequences. Sometimes we miss life, which is happening all around us. Other times life has a way of forcing us to slow down whether we like it or not.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

Distress

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Distress

Yesterday I wrote about hearing the sound of a kitten but not being able to find it (Listen”  (https://thewannabesaint.com/2017/09/08/listen/). Today, I saw it for the first time. However, it wasn’t the way I wanted to be introduced. I was weeding near outdoor shelves and the weed whacker was on full throttle. Grass and dirt flying everywhere and when I was right next to the outdoor shelf all of a sudden the gray kitten (I now know what color it is) shot out from under the shelf running for dear life. I immediately turned off and put down the weed eater and went looking for it. Using my best “meow” and “here kitty kitty” I tried locating it to introduce myself and assure it wasn’t in any danger but no luck. It was in too much distress to come out of whatever hiding place it discovered. After I finished with the weeding I put out a little food and some water in hopes it will show up again. We’ll just have to wait and see.

A friend, who is a teacher, posted on Facebook that it can be difficult to reach students because of the trauma and distress they face in other parts of their lives. He lamented the impact a teacher can have because of the other challenges and difficulties his students are facing on a daily basis. I find this true in my work with men as well. Whether they are incarcerated, in a rehabilitation clinic, non-residential, divorced or living with mom and the children, most of these men have a painful story. They are impacted by their past experiences of neglect, abuse, heartbreaking home lives, and lack of positive male and female role models. These not only affect their current behavior but also wire their brains and condition their bodies to react in mostly negative ways.

What I’ve learned is that I can’t fix these men. It’s not in my power. What I can do is show them respect and kindness. I try to connect with each one personally. If I can establish a relationship built on kindness and respect amazing things can happen. I’m unable to help them all but I try and trust this is enough.

blessings,
@BrianLoging (Twitter)
thewannabesaint.com

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