I received some great advice from a long-term friend on what to do when you can’t handle the stress.
Best Advice to Deal with Stress
Creating a Movement of Compassion
I was an unusual kid.
For those who know me today, that’s probably a no-brainer. Not only was I a fat teen with poor social skills, but I was a nerd before it was “in” to be one. My favorite subjects were math and science, and although I didn’t possess a pocket protector, scotch tape held the bridge of my glasses together. Nice image, huh?
I also developed a very early interest in the news. As a teen in the late sixties, while others hung with friends, listened to music, or chatted on the phone; I settled on to the couch to watch Bill Bonds, anchor of KABC TV’s Eyewitness News at Eleven, staying up late to watch Dick Cavett.
Yeah, really; that was me. Par-tay!
Although I’ve lost weight, no longer have tape on my glasses, and would like to think I’ve established a social skill or two; I still possess a deep interest in the goings on of our world; some refer to me as a “news junkie.”
I rise and go to sleep to the news. During the day, I listen to podcasts and get alerts on my iPhone (which also flash on my smart watch). Ask me about virtually any headline and I can probably speak to it. Obsessed? Maybe. However, the term “involved” is my preference.
So, you’ll understand when I say I relate to the social media meme of late that proclaims, “My desire to be well-informed is in direct contrast to my desire to stay sane.”
I want — no “need” is the word — to believe that everything will turn out for the best.
Yet, the progression of getting from here to there seems to be a bit tortuous to say the least. As I write this, North Korea is lobbing missiles into the Sea of Japan; Syria is poisoning its people; millions of Americans’ health care hangs in the balance; the Senate Republicans are threatening to invoke the “nuclear option,” and all of this is on top of an all-consuming investigation into whether or not the administration was manipulated by Russia. Based on how much news took place in 1968, that year has been called a “rip in time”. Compared to that, so far 2017 has torn time’s fabric to shreds.
I won’t lie. The whole damn thing is wearing on me.
No matter where you fall on the issues, I’m sure you feel it too. However, despite the meme referenced previously, the stakes are too high to tune out and shut down. We must be more, not less, involved.
The question then is, “What can I do?” After all, I’m a speck of dust in a galaxy.
Yes, we can speak out and raise our voices, making our will known; and we need to do that. But in the immediate, there is a fundamental, uncomplicated, effortless adjustment any of us can do that will instantaneously affect our local communities: Be more compassionate and kind. Simple. Easy. Taught to each of us since we were born. I cannot imagine how treating others with more respect can aggravate the tension. This is especially true when it’s someone with whom I disagree.
Some might say I’m being naïve or foolish, expecting that others will react in kind.
Video: How to be a Friend to Yourself
From the YouTube page:
The person we may find it hardest to be kind and sympathetic to is, surprisingly, ourselves. Yet being a friend to ourselves provides the only viable basis for living an emotionally fulfilled life.
Change Your Thoughts, Change Your Life
This might come as a shock – but I haven’t written this column for the last 13 years for the money I get. I know, I know; I’ve shattered your world with that revelation. But I trust you’ll get over it.
Of course, that begs the question, “Why do I write it?”
Okay, I’ll tell you. Well, as soon as I figure it out at least. I mean, I like to write (mostly) and it causes me to think, which is a good thing (mostly). And the discipline from writing every week has allowed me to publish nine books on Amazon. So, I guess that’s something. However, probably the biggest reason is that lots of folks come up to me and tell me that that they like it (again, mostly). A typical conversation went like this last week:
Stranger: “Do I know you?”
Me: “Um, I don’t know, where might we have met?”
“Wait, I know now! You’re that guy, aren’t you?”
I’ve lived too many years to respond with “yes” to a question like that without knowing the full context. It could be “Are you that guy who was sleeping with my wife?” I am most certainly not THAT guy. So, I answer, “Which guy?” [Read more…]
Days of Celebration
It’s a time for celebration!
Tuesday was the 22nd anniversary of attaining my correct weight and Wednesday was the 62nd anniversary of attaining my first breath.
Now, I realize that – on the grand scale of things – 62 is not that old, and should you be in your seventies, eighties, or nineties (God bless your genetics) please forgive me, but as I’ve pointed out before, this is the oldest I’ve ever been, causing some introspection. Please indulge me.
Understanding that 62 is a milestone in the fact that — if I so choose — I can now legally, officially, get a monthly Social Security check gave me pause to consider other life markers yet to come — and those long gone.
When I turned ten, realizing I was now in double digits, I was convinced I was “mature.”
Thirteen was significant, as I became a man in the eyes of Judaism, having my Bar Mitzvah. I turned 18 the year that we were allowed to vote; 19 put me eligible for the draft; 21 let me drink (legally); at 25, I could rent a car; 30 brought with it a sense of adulthood and 40 locked it in. At 50, the right of passage was the AARP card showing up in the mail.
Growing up listening to the Beetles’ “When I’m 64” makes that year significant. At one point, it seemed worlds away; now it’s knocking on the door. At 65, I believe I get Medicare. Passing 70 and 74 will be significant as those were the ages that my parents passed. My grandfather made it to 86; I fully intend to see that in my rear view mirror also.