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You are here: Home / Archives for Holidays

Perfect Holiday Moments

December 9, 2021 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

Summer, as it does each year, dropped off a cliff, bypassing Autumn, and crashed unswervingly into Winter.

The date on my calendar doesn’t yet agree, but climate pays no heed to the small square, dated, boxes hanging underneath “December” with a cute picture of a furry otter that adorns my office wall.

Winter is a state of mind, not a date.

Not too long ago, I walked my neighborhood wearing shorts and a short-sleeve shirt. Today, not only am I in heavy jeans, turtleneck, and fleece vest, but my feet are warmed by “heat holder” wool socks, and there’s a space heater glowing orange by my toes. Winter has made itself recognized; I prefer the blues, greens, yellows, and warmth of Summer. Gray, ashen, pewter, and cold don’t do much to boost my disposition.

Realizing I’m now closer to 90 than I am to 40, I’m in a place in my life where I am attempting (not always successfully) to not let that which I cannot control, control me – especially my attitude. In my oh-so-much-younger days, I would go all cranky over the inclement chill of mid-December. Today, I’m as much into “acceptance” as I can be. Beyond giving up grousing, I actively look for the beauty that envelopes me, even if painted in a drab, drizzly, dark sullenness.

To that end, I’ve noticed how many perfect moments in which my life is wrapped; should I just be open to experience them. They’re omnipresent; in any instant, everywhere. I simply open my eyes and soak them in.

My dog, 20 pounds of curls and ears, is a wind-up toy of joy and love. Adorned in his holiday finery – a red, blue, white doggy sweater decorated with a pattern of snowflakes and trees – he bounds through our house, full-steam, back and forth down the hardwood hallway, nails clicking, stubby tail wagging, an oversized doggie-bone proudly transported in his jaws. All feet and ears as he slides along the floor, attempting to find traction, the excitement knows no restraint. Dog: uncontrollable joyfulness. Watching him, the love inside me explodes and I cannot help but laugh. The cold swathed around my bones dissolves. I ask for nothing more; this is perfect.

Although I now bundle up to take my morning walk and the nippy dampness pierces the puffy jacket dedicated to keeping me warm, one of the countless things I like about living here is that people smile and wave as we pass each other.

“Happy holidays!” shouts a chap about my age, wearing an obviously well-loved, slightly frayed, Santa cap. He waves with gloved hands from across the street.

“You too,” I call back. “Have a joyous season.”

I smile – as does he, and accents it with a pretend salute as he passes into my memories. I don’t know him; probably never will. It doesn’t matter; at that moment he improved my life, making a perfect instant better than I could wish for.

Like so many, we decorated our home.

[Read more…]

Filed Under: Holidays, Inspiration, Newspaper Column, Power of Attitude Tagged With: attitude, family, feelings, gratitude, happiness, holidays, inspiration, perfect moments, thankfulness

Celebrating Values

June 30, 2021 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

Sometimes, I have a clear and direct idea of where I’m going before I start these columns.

I can see the way visibly laid out in front of me. Alas, those days are rare. Mostly, I stare at a blank screen until my muse makes herself known. Sadly, she might not stay. Other times, the column takes on a mind of its own. I start out going one way but end up somewhere else. Today is one of those days. We will commence in one direction, but — fair warning — will take a sharp turn. Fret not, however, I will bring you home.

That said when did answering the phone become an invitation for someone to sell you a car warranty, lie about an arrest warrant out for you, or threaten you because your computer was “messing up the internet”? We don’t pick up anymore unless it’s a number we sure-fire recognize.

Not paying attention, I made the mistake of sliding “accept the call.”

“How are you?” asked a heavily-accented man.

Yanked back into awareness, irritated by what I judged was going to be a scam, I indignantly replied. “I died last night.”

Waited long enough to hear his reply before hanging up; I heard him say, flummoxed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I find the delivered-without-thought question, “How are you?” to be disingenuous. Don’t get me wrong; when asked by someone who knows and cares about your actual well-being, it’s a sincere, kind query. Yet typically, we say it because, well, I’m not sure. I guess we don’t want to appear rude. However, asking a personal question when, in reality, you don’t want to take the time to hear the honest answer is indeed rude. Just sayin’…

Oft times, I’ll respond with an expression I learned from talk show host Thom Hartmann, “I’m great – but I’ll get better.” Some laugh, finding the retort clever, shattering the mold of what they expected to hear. Others have said, “Oh no! I hope you get better soon,” obviously not listening to the reply, but wanting to move on to their real agenda and avoid the unpleasantness of listening to someone’s ailments.

Yep, you guessed it; I’m a little cranky today. Shields up.

[Read more…]

Filed Under: Holidays, Hope, humor, Inspiration, Newspaper Column, Power of Attitude, Self Talk Tagged With: action, attitude, beliefs, change, holiday, humor, independence day, inspiration, self talk, values

Looking Back – And Looking Ahead

January 9, 2019 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

The holidays were behind her; decorations stuffed in the attic until next year.

She liked gussying up the living room every December, but there was also a sense of relief once the house was restored to a less chaotic, more familiar décor.

Breathing in the return to normalcy while sitting on a weathered wood bench on the back deck, a cool breeze gently tussled her hair; causing her to pull tighter around her neck the red fleece sweatshirt; raising the zipper high to help block the chill. With both hands clamped around the mug of hot tea between her palms, she savored its radiance as it emanated from the ceramic, warming not only her hands but her soul. Try as she might, she had not been able to find a flavored tea that replaced the bold satisfaction of morning coffee, but tea didn’t impact her stomach unfavorably. “Ah, the sacrifices one makes to Geras,” she thought, amusingly surprised that she remembered the name of the Greek God of Aging.

She sighed and redirected her attentiveness to the untidy back plank fence bordered by weeds attempting to reclaim their space. “The back yard really needs attention,” she considered, but knew there were yet several more weeks of winter and nothing would get done until the gray cleared and the rain stopped.

“No need to concern myself with that now…” Her thoughts drifted and she trailed, letting them lead wherever they might stroll.

“Another new year,” she mused, holding tighter the mug, hoping to claim a bit more heat. She pondered what was in store for the coming months.

She didn’t make resolutions; they were merely repeating the unkept promises she of last year; as she tried to catch up with those from the year prior, which were actually tasks undone from the year before that. At some point, why bother? “Just do your best and keep moving forward,” was as close to a New Year’s resolution as she came.

Yet, the newness of another January was not lost on her. With the changing of the calendar, there came a freshness, a bloom of new possibility for the time ahead. A clean slate was laid out in front of her, what would she do with it?

It was getting harder to say she was still “middle aged;” after all, few folks make it to 120. Was this where she expected to be in her sixties? She contemplated that for a moment and realized she didn’t have an answer. Was it a myth that some kids knew exactly who whey wanted to be from their first day? That had never been who she was; instead following a more meandering road.

“Retirement, what a concept,” she thought.

Many of her close friends, after having spent decades in a nine-to-five, walled off behind a cubicle; were now starting to collect pensions. Some were traveling, or spending times with grandkids — or both. Others pursued long-hibernating passions they had put on hold since their twenties. A twinge of envy flittered across her emotional horizon; there would be no retirement party for her, her course would continue until she decided it was at its end. And even then, what would that look like? Would she simply wake up one morning and declare, “I’m now officially retired,” awarding herself a watch and a cake?

“Did I really choose this?” she asked herself, “Or did I just let it happen?”

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she recalled the choices that brought her to this place. What if she would have finished college instead of pursuing her craft? How about if she had married someone wealthy? Everything would have been different, she pondered, a pinch of melancholy seasoning her mood.

A song drifted across her thoughts, something about a woman who died and was sweating her interview with Saint Peter, who was going to look up in some colossal journal every decision — good or bad — that she ever did, and then decree where she will spend all eternity. “Will I have done enough to get into Heaven?” the singer wondered. Enter the chorus: “There’s nothing I can do about it now.” Might as well relax; it’s too late to change it.

“Yep, nothing I can do about it now,” she reminded herself and exhaled deeply the tension that she didn’t realize she was even carrying until that moment.

Whether planned or not, no one could argue that she was her own woman; traveling her own road; pursuing her own dreams; following her own uncharted course. She assumed there yet more twists and turns ahead; in those lie possibilities and dreams. “Who knows what’s in store? I might yet be in for some exciting times.”

Her elderly orange cat, tired of being ignored, hopped onto her lap, brushed its head against the warm mug and snuggled into her lap, purring loudly. Transferring the mug into one hand, she stroked the cat’s fur as they both stared out into the dreary, unkept lawn.

“Life is good. Thank you,” she said to no one in particular, and smiled as she sipped some tea. “Not a bad flavor at all…”

About the author: Scott “Q” Marcus is the CRP (Chief Recovering Perfectionist) of www.ThisTimeIMeanIt.com. He is available for coaching, speaking, and reminders of what really matters at 707.442.6243, scottq@scottqmarcus.com or www.facebook.com/ThisTimeIMeanIt.

Filed Under: Baby Boomers, goals, Gratitude, Happiness, Holidays, Newspaper Column, resolutions Tagged With: aging, change, emotions, feelings, gratitude, happiness, inspiration, new year's resolutions, priorities, quality of life, relationships

What I Know, What I Believe, and What I Wish for You

December 20, 2017 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

There are almost eight billion humans sharing this small blue, water covered rock as it traverses its solar orbit at 67,000 miles per hour.

I know that these individuals are of all ages, unlimited principles, and an unfathomable range of colors, shapes, and sizes. I know that there are countless other life forms to whom Earth is also home.

I know that we all arrived from the same source and that we’re all going to end up in the same place; it is only the paths we take which differ.

I believe that each and every life is connected to each other via a greater, unseen — yet still very existent — domain of energy in which we are all interlocked and inseparable.

Some might call It “God” or “Universe,” or “Spirit;” it matters not It’s name; too often we fight over what to call It while missing It’s concepts. I furthermore believe that science and spiritually are not mutually exclusive; rather they complement each other. [Read more…]

Filed Under: Happiness, Holidays, Hope, Inspiration, Newspaper Column Tagged With: affirmations, happiness, holidays, inspiration, relationships, religious science, science of mind

Father’s Lessons

June 14, 2017 by Scott "Q" Marcus Leave a Comment

At day’s end, Randy would throw his extra change in a grey, ceramic tray on top of his dresser.

He considered the change “found money” and periodically cashed it in as a “fun fund.”

“That’s odd,” he thought, “all the quarters are missing.”

Sadly, he realizes that Sean, his 11-year-old son, must have taken them; obviously no one broke in and stole $3.75 in change. Now comes the bigger question: What to do?

Being a single dad, the decision was his alone. He thought back to his own childhood, about what his father would have done. “No, spanking is out of the question,” he decides. His strongest memories of his own father are fear; “That is not what I want Sean to remember about me.”

He calls out, “Sean, I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up Dad?” Sean says as he enters the room. 

“I’ve got a problem,” he replies. “I had a bunch of quarters in this tray,” tapping on the edge of ceramic dish, “They’re not there anymore.  I don’t know what happened.”

He pauses; giving his son a chance to admit to his error. Will he make the correct choice? The silence is loud; he knows it’s got to be deafening for his boy. After a moment, Sean meekly volunteers, while staring at the floor, “I took one.” The lump in his throat is audible.

“One?”

Pause “Maybe two.” Longer pause. “It could have been three.”

Randy recalls his own youth; the fear in admitting wrong-doing; his dad explosively red with fury, screaming at Randy inches from his face.

[Read more…]

Filed Under: family, Holidays, Intentions, Newspaper Column, Relationships Tagged With: children, fatherhood, fathers and sons, fathers day, parenting, parenting skills

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