Just One Thing

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

I read this article the other day that said everyone is better off to focus on just one thing. The idea was to figure out what your main thing is and to make it your highest priority. At first, I thought the article was pretty good and offered a good idea especially as a writer. I could put all my focus on writing and make writing my highest priority. As the kids would say, “Not!” As I wrote down some of my writing goals, I realized there was so much more on my life’s agenda than just one thing. I can’t even identify myself as just one thing. Sure, I’m a writer, but I’m also a wife, a mom, a friend, a teacher, a motivational speaker, a grandmother, an in-law, a believer, a daughter, a historian, a student, and a pitch hitter for a number of causes such as Alzheimer’s Disease and care providers. This list is not in the order of priority, but each one is a priority.

“Just One Thing.” I continued to think about this all week. How could anyone prioritize just one thing? What would happen to all the other things? Would this kind of myopic focus make you great at the one thing or cause the one thing to be more excellent than the other things? How would you choose when everything is an important thing? Is there anyone in the world who focuses on just one thing? I’m not sure if I’m just being too literal (or dense) in my thinking or if the author was oversimplifying his thesis. Perhaps an interview is in order.

PBS had a wonderful series on the life and achievements of Walt Disney and his brother, Roy O. Disney. (Truly,, worth seeing, check it out on YouTube) Needless to say, Walt Disney was some type of genius when it came to creativity and seeing his dreams come to fruition. He would never give up on an idea that made his craft better or more excellent regardless of cost or lack of support. Most often it seems others could not comprehend his ideas and inventions. Many thought he was a little crazy and declared Walt’s ideas would never see the light of day, but he stuck with it. As they say, the rest is history. So, was Walt Disney one of those people who prioritized and focused on just one thing or was it just one thing at a time? Afterall, Disney’s feature movies did not evolve into Disney World around the globe in just a few years. As I follow his life, each success led to a new evolution of ideas and inventions. His dreams grew with each accomplishment along with the many people it took to make it all happen.

Walt Disney’s life work seemed to be just one thing, but history would argue as to whether it was his only thing. From the information that is available to us Walt Disney was a devoted father to his daughters, Sharon and Diane. He took them to school and spent the weekends with them. He also allowed them to come to the studios. I bet they got the first of all the Disney toys. (Just a guess on my part.) He was married for forty years to the same wife, Lillian, unusal for Hollywood then and now. He and his brother, Roy, worked closely together and appeared to have a close-knit relationship. Some would say if Roy had not found the financial backing, Walt’s dream would have died as just a set of good ideas. Walt also appeared to have countless friends and relationships with people in the industry and among his employees. No doubt it was a hard balancing act, but somehow, he was able to manage his passion for the one thing with his love for many things.

I guess if I had to choose “just one thing.” I’d choose to be a good person. I don’t want my passions to outweigh my convictions that everyone deserves respect even if I disagree with them. I don’t want my skill sets to become such a matter of pride that I overlook those who are still learning. I don’t want my goals and dreams to so engulf me that I’m no longer available to the people I love and who love me. I don’t want my focus to have the kind of blinders that make me not see others and not be willing to lend a helping hand. I don’t want my priorities to be only about me because I can’t accomplish anything without the support of others. My “just one thing” is to be a good person who lives out her faith in every arena. In the end, I think I’ll accomplish more than “Just One Thing.”

“You can design and create and build the most wonderful place in the world. But it takes people to make the dreams a reality.” “A man should never neglect his family for business.” – Walt Disney

Peace with a broad focus on community,

Photo by Rick Han on Pexels.com

Fighting Loneliness

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Can you believe I’ve never felt loneliness like this before? I’ve always had a friend or a relative, I could turn to when I needed someone. I guess being an only child helped me to see aloneness as a plus. It’s typically a familiar place of content. I always had my books and my pets to keep me company. Yet, in these beginning days of summer, I find myself experiencing loneliness.

I don’t feel isolated like during the pandemic, and I’m certainly not friendless. My immediate family is very near, and my closest friends are just a phone call away. I also have mobility of body and transportation. Yet, I have a loneliness of soul. It feels like all my confidantes are gone – like all those persons who knew me inside out are deceased. I find myself longing to talk to them, to be with them. I miss the comradery of just sitting in their presence. We didn’t have to speak. We could just be. To be honest, maybe it’s not loneliness, maybe it’s grief. Loneliness and grief seem to go hand in hand if the people you long for are gone from your life.

The other day my grandson stopped by to say goodbye before starting his round-the-world trip to Oregon. We talked about all of the stops he planned to make along the way. When he said, Tennessee, he paused. Then he said he remembered how we went to Memphis every year to see Uncle Fred. He said, “I miss that, I miss him.” Me too. I miss my Uncle Fred so much. He was always glad to see me – all of us – and he never failed to welcome us into his home, into his pride-filled loving deportment. Sometimes we’d sit on the patio and watch his cats chase one another. The sweet smell of bougainvillea clinging to the air and the drone of the TV in the room behind us brought such peace and comfort to me. That kind of quiet and love was found on the porches of so many of my great relatives, I miss that the most.

I wonder if my ninety-three-year-old mom feels this loneliness since the world has changed so much in her lifetime. I wonder if she’s lonely for the friends and family she has outlived. I wonder if she misses the traditions of writing and receiving letters and cards or eating tomato sandwiches while talking about childhood adventures. She talks about people from her past a lot and she loves to explain old pictures of herself and her cousins.

Personally, I miss the smells of great-grandma’s kitchen and the smell of Prince Albert from great-grandpa’s pipe. I miss the humming of my grandmother’s no-name songs and the whine and tang of my grandfather’s voice. I miss the flowers that my cousin used to draw while we sat on my great aunt’s porch fanning flies. I miss writing letters and sharing my dreams with an aunt who called me her Aunt Tricia. I miss seeing my godmother and the quilts that she made with her church friends. All those days are gone and there’s no way to get them back because the people and the places are gone. Memories are nice, but they leave a sense of loneliness that nothing in my life today can fill.

I guess that’s why I write nostalgic fiction and narrative poetry. It helps me recapture the familiar. It helps me fight the loneliness. It brings those memories from yester-year into the present. I’m so thankful for old photos, letters, and cards that make me smile and feel the closeness of those old days. It’s like a hug from the past. That’s why it is so important to me that we (all of us) share our family stories with each generation. We shouldn’t let these memories die. Here’s a quote from Paul Tsongas, I like, “We are a continuum. Just as we reach back to our ancestors for our fundamental values, so we, as guardians of the legacy, must reach ahead to our children. And we do so with a sense of sacredness in that reaching.”

I’ve learned to fight loneliness in my own way. Trust me, these are not recommendations for anyone; it is just what works for me. I read the letters and cards that I’ve saved over the years. I share family pictures with my relatives and ask them to share pictures with me. I talk to elderly people in the community and ask them about their lives and experiences. I take walks in cemeteries. I read the epitaphs and dates on the headstones. I save and re-read obituaries. I read southern gothic literature. I participate in family reunions and call on my living relatives and friends. Lastly, I allow myself to cry when I feel sad and lonely.

I guess we all deal with loneliness from time to time, but we don’t have to deal with it alone. Let someone know how you are feeling. Writing can be cathartic too. There is always help in our Beloved community. If you would like to share how you fight loneliness, I’d love to hear it. Peace and Safety to all.

No Regrets

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Today I received a survey from my undergraduate alma mater. It asked questions about the foundations taught there and whether they helped me in life today. At first, I thought that was so long ago, I have no idea; but, to my surprise I remember a lot. My experience had been great and challenging. I remember my professors and classmates. Indeed I learned a lot that I still use today. I learned how to do research, write nonfiction essays and public speaking. I also learned other skills such as keeping a budget and utilizing my time wisely. There was so much more to my college experience than academics. The final survey question was: “Would you choose this college again, if you had the choice today?” I answered absolutely. I have no regrets. I would recommend that my college to anyone. (The Master’s University in California)

Wouldn’t it be great if we could say we don’t have any regrets at all? Unfortunately, regret seems to be a part of life. Whether it’s due to difficulties in relationships, poor career choices, personal habits, or failure to move when the opportunity presented itself, we all have some regret. The bigger question is, what have we learned? Have we grown, remained the same, or degenerated. I certainly hope I’ve grown; I try to live with no regrets.

As some of you know, I have been a care provider for many years. It began with my grandchildren and eventually included my grandmother and my mother-in-law. My husband and I have been a part of “The Sandwich Generation.” That’s when you are sandwiched between generations as a care provider. We had our grandchildren and our parents to take care of on a daily basis making us the middle of the sandwich. While everyday was not an easy day, we tried to make sure everyone felt loved and seen. We worked hard to offer the best quality of life that was possible for our infirmed elders and for our growing adolescents. We never let wheelchairs or highchairs stop us from laughing with or loving our family. The blessing in that is now we can look back with no regrets.

I have shared things about my relationship with my mom in the past. Eventually, the whole story will come out. (lol) Today, I just want to share one incident. When I was in my late twenty’s my mother came to visit me in Arizona. It was the first time we spent time together in a number of years. She still lived in Ohio. At any rate, as we were standing in the airport for her departure, I heard a voice clearly say, “You need to make amends because you will have to take care of her someday.” Well, to some degree that seemed obvious, after all I am an only child, but for some reason this message seemed to hold a deeper meaning. I cried, I prayed, and I tried to define the kind of care my mother would need so I could be prepared. As you well know, there are some things you just can plan for. Since I don’t want to get off track from the topic at hand, I’ll just bullet point some live events:

  • Mom’s dad, my grandfather, had a paralyzing stroke
  • Her mom, my grandmother, was losing her sight to glaucoma
  • Mom experienced a double home invasion
  • We moved all of them to Georgia (my mom, grandmother and grandfather)
  • My grandfather died in a nursing home
  • My grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease

The day came when I knew my mom was in over her head. The stress of driving twenty miles to see my grandfather in his nursing home and taking care of my grandmother who was oppositional was taking its toll on her health. I realized if I didn’t step in, I was going to lose my mother too. My grandfather and grandmother were lost to me because Alzheimer’s had taken them away. I couldn’t stand by and let stress and exhaustion take my mother away. I needed to take care of her. The simplest way was to move her and my grandmother in with us. So, we sold our house (the house I loved) and she sold her house (the house she loved), and we bought the monstrosity we now live in. The grandchildren brought new life to my mom. She loved taking care of the baby while I dealt with my grandmother,

Maybe I’ll tell the rest of this story in the future. The point is, my mom and I have no regrets. We each took care of our loved ones to the best of our ability. We made decisions with their best interest in mine. The sacrifices we made allowed all of us to have a better quality of life. Now we live with the satisfaction that nothing was left undone or unsaid. There is no “wish I would have”, or “we should have”, or “if we could do that over” drama in our lives. We capitalized on giving everyone what they needed and some of what they wanted while giving ourselves permission to human. We ate cake, took vacations, celebrated holidays and holy days, ran a business, and nurtured our souls. It wasn’t easy, but it was living with laughter and love. I can honestly answer the survey question; I would do it all again.

The times I’ve had with my mom as an adult outweigh the hard times of my childhood. We’ve had so many wonderful trips and taking so many great pictures together, but more importantly we have survived many hardships together. At ninety-three she is slowing down. Dementia is knocking at the door. Mobility was modified by a stoke this past December. Still we’re taking a trip in July and looking forward to making more fond memories. We’re still too busy living to have regrets. I can tell you, I’m so thankful for that voice telling me I would have to take care of my mom. The reality is we take care of each other.

While I was working on this blog, I dreamed about death one night. I woke up thinking how regrets torment people when a loved one dies, and death can come at any time. Things left unsaid, unresolved conflict, or a wish that things had been different lead to regret. We have a chance to change all that while everyone is alive and breathing. Express love, forgive, find closure, do a good deed, extinguish your pride and live without remorse. That’s one less burden you have to carry. It’s just another game of “Show and Tell.” “Live, Love, Laugh” can be done, it’s a personal choice.

Mom and I enjoying our vacation

Don’t Just Show – Them Tell Them

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 1 Comment

All my life I’ve heard the saying, “Actions speak louder than words,” but I beg to differ. Actions only speak louder when I understand the meaning of the action. When I was a child, I thought my mom didn’t love me. I tried everything to make her love me. By the time I was a teen, I gave up on her love and began seeking love from other sources. Unfortunately, I thought love was tied to the words, “I love you.” If the person said the words, I didn’t require them to show me anything. It wasn’t until I was fully grown that I understood all the things my mother did for me was because she loved. She worked hard, often overtime, to make sure I had everything I needed and a few of my wants. She avoided relationships with men that she thought might have been harmful to me. She lived with her parents to make sure I had family support when she was away. She allowed me to participate in dance, gymnastics, basketball, and traveling choirs at an expense to the household budget, not to mention sending me South every year to keep me away from street gangs. She made and remade my clothes so that children couldn’t laugh at me. She took the time to style my hair, so I looked like an African princess. These were all the actions of her love, but I didn’t understand the actions when I needed it the most. How different my life choices would have been if I had only known she loved me. I needed the words to define the actions.

As an educator, I know that children need the words, “I love you,” to go along with the actions. Otherwise, when they hear the words, they may fall into the trap of manipulation and exploitation. Many parents today, like my mom, work hard to make sure their children have cell phones, video games, and the latest fashion. They take their kids to fancy restaurants, to movies, and concerts. Kids have tablets, TVs, and video consoles in their rooms and some of their parents think they are ungrateful. Children aren’t necessarily ungrateful, but they may feel entitled. The more we give, the more they want. All the things aren’t communicating love. It may communicate competition with the neighbors or family friends. It may communicate parents have money and means. It may communicate their rights as a child especially in today’s economy. It may even communicate, “we’re better than everybody else.” If we leave it up to the kids to define our actions, they may not define it correctly. Yet there are children who receive little or no commodities unaware of their true economic status; they seem to thrive on the hugs and expressions of love from their parents’ (and teachers) mouths.

As much as I don’t want anyone I know to call me by the “pet names” of my childhood, those names expressed love. My great grandparents had a different name for me than my grandparents. My aunts and uncles had their own nicknames for me too, but my mother called me by my birth certificate name, Patricia Ann. People always said they could tell when they were in trouble when their parents called them by their entire name. So, I guessed I was always in trouble with my mom. My relatives with the nicknames for me told me all kinds of stories, some made-up and others from their life experiences. We laughed a lot and hugged a lot. My mom read stories from books and insisted that learning to read was key to a good future. So, I learn to read, “See Jane run. Run, run, run Jane,” at the age of three. My great grandma let me sift the flour and stir her cake batter while using encouraging words even when I made a mess. My mom chased me out of the kitchen because I was in her way. I learned to cook from Betty Crocker’s cookbook and long distanced calls to my grandmother. Of course, I know these comparisons are skewed now, but as a child I didn’t know; I couldn’t understand that mom’s actions were expressing the same love as my other relatives only in a different way.

When I was in college my roommates and I would have this play argument. They were Math and Science majors, and I was an English major. The question was, “What came first math, science, or English?” I would always say, “English, because “In the beginning was the Word.” (John 1:1) “God didn’t create anything without speaking and He didn’t mention multiplication until the 3rd chapter.” (Haha!) We would laugh and continue this pretend argument whenever someone was too excited about something they learned in class. When a child is born the words generally come easily. We love every little finger and toe on our newborn. We tell them how much we love them and what dreams we have for them. We coo and we sing to them, but as they get older the words stop. Our actions may multiply; we may even get creative with our time and our money, but the words become assumptions. We assume they know we love them. We assume they know all that we are working for and working with is for them. We assume that everything is fine as long as no one is complaining or asking for anything, but the assumptions are wrong. This applies to spouses, elder members of our families, and especially our children. Love cannot be left to assumptions.

It’s time to play “Show and Tell.” When a child draws a picture for you, they want to tell you about it. When a child gives you a flower (even the top of a dandelion weed) they want you to know they picked it for you. When a child brings their favorite item to school for Show and Tell, the best part of this time together is for them to tell everyone all about what they brought. As a teacher, I can always tell when a parent gave the child something for Show and Tell because the child can show but they can’t tell us anything about the item. It may mean something to the parent, but it doesn’t have the same meaning for the child. So, we can’t just show, we have to tell. Tell your child why you work so much and so hard. Tell them why you bought them that toy or game. Tell them that you love them, but you’re just too tired to play. Offer to hold them or hug them just because you love them. Tell them stories from your childhood so they can identify with you on another level. Tell them the dreams you have for their future. Tell them you love them even when the answer is “No.” Take the time to show them how to do something and don’t forget to use your words. These kinds of Show and Tell events can make a lifetime of difference in their lives, in the choices they make, and in your future relationship with them. Don’t leave any room for misunderstandings. “Show and Tell.”

Photo by Agung Pandit Wiguna on Pexels.com

Don’t Just Show Them, Tell Them. Deepen your relationship with every generation. Peace.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T!

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

The other day I was listening to an old Aretha Franklin album, and the song “Respect” really stuck in my head for some reason. (There are two versions of the song “Respect,” the original put out by Otis Redding and the revised version by Arthea.) The first thing that came to mind was that ever-popular argument about whether respect is earned or simply given and expected. Yet, I couldn’t help thinking about how much we need a little more respect in our world. Of course, Ms. Franklin was singing about getting a little more respect from her man (by the way he treated her) when he came home, and I guess that where respect should start – at home. Certainly, respect between parents and children, the elders and the young, and yes, husbands and wives are important as it relates to human dignity and regard. That means everyone deserves a little respect.

I wonder do we all agree that using foul language is disrespectful. When adults use curse words when speaking to children, they are destroying any reason for children to show them respect. Actually, they are teaching children how to be disrespectful by example. What happened to the days when adults were careful about what they said in front of children? For that matter, what happened to the days when you couldn’t hear people using foul language on television, radio, or other forms of media? Now, it’s like punctuation at the end of every sentence. Perhaps foul language is so prevalent in our society today that we all think it’s normal and appropriate. (Sad, but probably true.) Unfortunately, foul language isn’t the only problem.

My personal pet peeve is familiarity. My mom is in her nineties, and it bugs me to no end to have some customer service person call her by her first name as if they are friends and contemporaries. Worst yet, they may say “momma” as some form of respecting her apparent age. No “Miss” or “Mrs.” and no request or permission to use her first name. Even white-collar professionals such as doctors and lawyers address their perspective clients by their first names without asking permission. In my world that’s disrespectful. My children (adults now) and my grandchildren have been taught to address people by titles especially if they are older than them. Even familiar family friends are addressed as Mr. or Ms. along with their first names such as Ms. JoAnne or Mr. Robert. This is simply a matter of respect and common courtesy until a person invites you to use their first names. I know, that’s just plain old-fashioned, but how we address one another is important. I never thought I’d live in a world where it’s okay to address someone as the “B” word, or as a whore. This is prevalent with our young people and in today’s music and drama. It’s no longer just familiarity, it’s disrespectful.

Unlike Aretha Franklin’s song, I don’t demand respect from anyone. I simply treat people the way I want to be treated. I use my self-esteem to esteem others. I am mindful of the circumstances and surroundings I find myself in, and considerate of the people sharing that space. As I teach my students, formal situations call for formal language. Casual situations may allow for code switching – informal language – depending on how casual the situation is. (This can be applied to dress as well.) In business situations, I address people by title or last names unless directed by them to do otherwise. I avoid nicknames in public places. I relinquish my seat and my place in line to obvious elders with regard for their age. Even in anger, I try to maintain a level of respect for myself and others. That’s really where it all starts, respect for oneself.

During the spring my middle granddaughter broke off a relationship with a young man. She said the young man called her out of her name and even though he apologized, she was done. When I asked her why. She said I have too much respect for myself to allow someone else to degrade me. Wow! I was so proud of her in that moment. We should be respectful enough that we exude respect both for ourselves and for others. Perhaps this would lead to more respect in our world.

Hears and AI Overview –“Respect, at its core, means treating others with consideration, valuing their opinions and boundaries, and recognizing their intrinsic worth. It’s about acknowledging their individuality and accepting them, even when you disagree with them. Respect also involves showing consideration for their feelings, even when you don’t personally agree with them.”

“ R-E-S-P-E-C-T” I know what it means to me, but what does it mean to you? Do you think we could use just a little bit more from our governmental and educational leaders? Do you think we could use a little more in our “Beloved Community” and among our young people? What about when you get home? Let me hear from you, I’d love to know what you think.

Be safe, be vital, be at peace, show respect, enjoy the music.

National Poetry Month

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Since April is National Poetry Month, I thought I would share a few original poems with you. I hope you like them. Feel free to comment.

Human Perspective

Juniper trees
Weeping Willows
Pine cone dropping
Hawks soaring
Below floating clouds
A tiny black ant
On a daffodil bud
Reflections of life
Perspectives we see
But still don’t know.

Tribute to Marcus Allen

“Lord, I keep so busy serving my Master,
Keep so busy serving my Master,
Keep so busy serving my Master,
Ain’t got time to die!” *

Of course, we ain’t got time to die,
Singing these songs in the junior high chorus 1
Ain’t nobody thinking about dying.
We got too much living to do – graduation,
High school, college, romance, make some money,
New clothes, new shoes, a car – No time to die!
We got to show our parents and our teachers
We got a future that’s better than theirs, so we
Gonna keep so busy working for ourselves
Until Marcus gets killed on his paper route.
Stabbed multiple times for the money he collected.
Never to sing “Sweet Little Jesus Boy” ** again. His
Beautiful soprano subtracted from our harmonies
Now filled with tears and disbelief. The songs
We sing take on new meaning.

“Couldn’t hear nobody pray,
Couldn’t hear nobody pray,
O Way down yonder by myself
And I couldn’t hear nobody pray!” ***

*Negro Spiritual by Francis Hall Johnson
**Christmas Song by Robert MacGimsey, 1934
***Negro Spiritual by J. W. Work, 1940

Adoption Party

He ran right up to me
Bright eyes, crooked little teeth.
Tapped me on the leg and said,
“Come and see!”
Before I could answer,
Off he ran, leaving my heart
To wonder, “Is this my son?”
So many children running all around.
All ages, all sizes, filled with energy.
Yet, I could still hear him
Above every sound.
Balloons popping, children screaming,
Workers trying to get everyone to
Settle down.

“We have to find him!” is all that I said
We wandered in search
Of this four-year-old’s head
He had stolen my heart
To my husband’s surprise
We had found the one child
One face, one smile,
Amid so many, he walked right up to us,
A toy truck in hand, pulling my husband’s pant leg.
“What’s your name?” I managed to say
He simply replied, “Can you please play?”
He sat right down at our feet, spinning the wheels
And we joined him there. This is where a new life
With our son began.

More poems by Patricia Boyd-Wilson

Talk From the Family Tree

~ boydwilsonpat ~ Leave a comment

Imagine sitting at the feet of your elders and ancestors hearing their stories and conversations and discovering the origin of your life. Visualize seeing the expressions on their faces and hearing each tale firsthand for the very first time. I was a little girl eavesdropping on grownup conversations, trying to understand the connection of the past to the present. This new book, a collection of short stories and poetry, tries to capture the intimate conversations retold year after year for every generation.

It’s my pleasure to share my latest book with you. Your encouragement and support of my writing is priceless. Thank you for following my blog and the books I’ve authored.

Available on Amazon today.

Before Hindsight

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 1 Comment

In our family someone always says, “Hindsight is 20/20,” meaning you can see things more clearly after the fact. While you are in the middle of certain situations and circumstances you may not be able to analyze the value or the significance of an event. This is especially true when emotions are high. Hindsight can help us to see and potentially understand all components of the event as well as the players and their contributions. Usually, it’s during hindsight when we gain real knowledge and potential explanations that aids our character and earns our acceptance.

Death of a loved one is often one of those hindsight conundrums. My grandfather held my hand and called me by my childhood nickname the last time I saw him at the nursing home. I realized later he was telling me goodbye. At the time I thought it was unusual, and I wondered what made him use that nickname. It had been years since I heard it and never once in my adult life. Also, it was odd for him to reach for and hold my hand. We (my mom and I) attributed to some weird sense of sentimentality, but looking back I’m sure he was expressing his love for me and saying goodbye. How I wished I had comprehended that in the moment. I would have hugged him and told him I loved him too. I had missed an opportunity because he died two days later.

This event and several others got me to wondering if I could prompt hindsight to happen sooner, better yet to have insight to happen so I wouldn’t have to wait for hindsight in any form. Would it be possible to take a step back and understand the significance of an experience within the timing of the event? Can we stop multitasking in our minds long enough to be truly present in every situation?

Our level of being plugged-in all day every day is causing a disconnection in our relationships and experiences. We check our text messages while holding a conversation with a friend or coworker. We listen to a podcast while driving through the school zone. We type emails or watch news reels while sharing lunch with a colleague or a family member. We mentally review our to-do lists while attending a staff meeting or a social event. We are rarely truly present anywhere or during large parts of our day. We aren’t even able to draw insight from hindsight because we can’t fully recollect a single encounter. Everything is muddled and it’s hard to recall the who, what, when, where, and how of a past event. Like that day with my grandfather, there is no telling what I was thinking about at the time. I’m not sure I didn’t have my phone in my other hand. I have no idea what was said just before that moment. I can’t tell you if nurses, orderlies or other patients were present. All I really remember is him eating the coconut cake we brought him and at some point, he took my hand and called me Squeaky. Why wasn’t I fully present? I do not know.

Now I find myself asking what’s going on here; what’s happening here. I try to take the time and the initiative to look people in the eye when they are speaking. I make an effort to put my phone on mute and away during meals and social gatherings. I check my emotions as well. It’s important to know how I’m feeling’ what am I bringing to the situation emotionally. For example, if I’m already angry about something it may not be a good idea to have a serious discussion about my current project. The anger may flow over into a new situation that has nothing to do with the current topic of discussion. Sometimes I have to make a concerted effort to put other matters on the shelf for a later time.

There’s a little praise song we used to teach the children, it says: “I command my hands to praise the Lord, I command my feet, to praise the Lord, I command my mind to praise the Lord . . .” Being present is like that. I have to call myself to be present by commanding my ears to hear and listen, my eyes to notice and observe, my mind to stay focus on the now. Chock this one up to my writer’s weirdness, but I like to call my senses to participate as well. You know how a smell can carry you back to an occasion or a person, our senses come into play when we are fully present. There was a time when these things could be taken for granted, but not today. Today we must be more intentional – more mindful and more attentive.

Hindsight is definitely informative at times, but we cannot discount foresight and insight. Active listening, attentiveness, and elevated senses can increase our ability to see and understand what’s happening in front of us. Our vision will not be dependent our ability to replay an event. Afterall, the nicest and best gift (present) we can give or receive is someone’s presence.

“I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing!” Try commanding yourself to be present. Start with your family and friends, then extend it to your colleagues and community. Peace.

Substitute Dad
He was my mother’s father, but my daddy most of all
Whenever I went to him, he gave me his all.
Tall and strong and funny too,
In my younger years, he replaced you.

In the house, he baby-sat
And sometimes he took me to the track.
I couldn’t have asked for a better dad
Even though I wasn’t the only grandchild he had.

He called me “Squeaky” as his pet-name
And gave me things Mom thought was insane.
He embraced my dreams and gave me his time
When I cried and screamed, he didn’t seem to mind.

Year after year, he was present and available
His love, his strength, his tender loving care was so dependable
I learned from him love unconditional
You see, his love was never provisional.

Yes, it’s true, he spoiled me
By being the best substitute dad, he could be.

In memory of John “Daddy Kirk” Boyd

The Far Away Place

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 2 Comments

Have you ever found your body present in a location and yet you felt far away? I don’t just mean your thoughts are far away from the position of your body, but all of you feels at a distance from everyone and everything around you. It’s almost like you are watching yourself from another dimension. That’s how I’ve been feeling lately – far, far away. Sometimes I see myself moving from project to project or room to room without making a connection with anything around me. This could be compassion fatigue. It could be a defense mechanism or perhaps it’s depression. Maybe it is simply an emotional disconnect to protect myself from the next harsh thing, but it feels like a distant place.

While I was away, I worked on writing and finishing my latest book of short stories and poetry, Talk from the Family Tree. (It’s in the editing process now.) I also worked in the classroom with my elementary school students, my GED students, and my Life Class participants. I’m not sure how much of this was ritual and habit, and how much was innovative teaching. There were days I tried to zone out at home on video games or TV shows such as holiday cooking contests. I prepared meals for the family, petted and walked my dogs, washed clothes, and read a couple of books. Still, I felt absent and far away from every task. I was moving along the continuum of my life without truly participating in my life. I missed my blog, and I missed my friends. I also missed loving routines and conversations with my family. The only thing I was truly able to focus on was crocheting. I made a lap mat for a friend’s birthday, and a loop scarf for a holiday gift. Now I’m working on a winter scarf and hat.

Crocheting forced me to concentrate on the stitches and the number of rows needed to complete the items. It takes my mind off worrisome issues like critical health issues of family members and the death of a legacy member of our community. Crocheting is a land of double crochet, single crochet, turn begin new row. Yet, I would use up a skein without realizing it and have to pull some of my work out to add a new skein. I was always shocked that the thread ran out without warning. So, I guess I wasn’t fully there either.

Perhaps these feelings of being far away was just wishful thinking on my part. Sometimes I bring up some soothing instrumental jazz on YouTube with a warm cabin scene and a picture window to watch the rain or snow fall. There would a fireplace and a cup of coffee or hot chocolate on the table along with an overstuffed chair or couch. The fireplace and window are my favorite parts. I could easily picture myself sitting there enjoying the solitude, the scenery, and the music. These times are so peaceful I can feel myself relaxing just thinking about them. They remind me that the faraway place does exist and may be only a cabin rental away.

Some people would describe this state of away-ness as melancholy. According to the Oxford Dictionary, melancholy is “a feeling of pensive sadness, typically with no obvious cause.” While the Free Dictionary and the Merriam Webster Dictionary describes melancholy as “a gloomy state of mind, characterized by depression of spirits and dejection.” In ancient times melancholia was treated by bloodletting baths, exercise, and diet. Attempts were made to relieve the body of too much black bile. Some even theorized that melancholy came from the supernatural realm such as ghosts and demons. In that case a hole was drilled in the person’s head to release the evil spirits. Today, melancholy fits into a broad field of mental illnesses and is treated with talk therapy and/or antidepressants. While I am not a doctor, I know that research is ongoing to fine the cure and causes of major depressive disorder. Depression can stem from biological, psychological. and socio-emotional factors. No two cases are necessarily alike. Thank God we live in a time when the stigma is dying out and therapee is more readily available.

Am I depressed, or experiencing melancholy? I don’t think so. At least this does not feel like the bouts I’ve had with depression in the past. Maybe I just need a vacation from the rat race. Or perhaps I need some respite time away from being a caregiver, a teacher, or the “go-to” person. Perhaps I need to reinvent myself again. I do miss having my own business and calling my own shots. For certain, I need my Sabbath rest; being on 24/7 is not good for anyone. We’ve allowed multitasking and being connected to technology to take over our lives eliminating our time to renew, rest, and reflect. We need to give ourselves time to just “be.” I needed time to just “be.”

I am learning to allow myself to just “be.” I don’t need to over analyze my state of being, nor do I need to seek immediate changes in my lifestyle. I can simply trust my circadian rhythm to regulate the function of my mind and body. Intuitively and internally, my body and mind know when I need to rest, when I need nutrition, warmth, and natural light. Through the years I have learned how prayer and nature soothe my soul. I can rely on the Holy Scriptures to center and ground me when tests and trials challenge me. So, it’s okay to allow myself to retreat to the far away place until I’m ready to fully engage and connect to the here and now again. Afterall, I am still functioning in the present while my heart and spirit are shielded by the barrier of tranquility in a distance dimension. This is my coping mechanism nothing more, nothing less.

How do you give yourself a break from harsh realities? Do you meditate, exercise, go to a retreat center, call your parents, read poetry, cry in your bubble bath, or speed down the freeway like a race car driver leaving your troubles behind? How do you cope with unpleasant things and high demand? Do you see your therapist? Do you physically remove yourself or mentally disconnect? I would love to hear from you.

Shalom and Happy Holidays and Holy Days.

PS: Here’s a couple of titles you may enjoy reading:

Protect Your Peace

~ boydwilsonpat ~ 4 Comments

Not too long ago I was talking to my oldest granddaughter about some family matters and was suggesting she get involved. She surprised me when she said, “No thanks I have to protect my peace.” When I asked her what she meant by that she explained how certain situations and people sabotage your peace by making their issues your issues or by creating drama where there should be no drama at all. That conversation made me evaluate my boundaries. Was I protecting my peace or giving others permission to take it away.

These days peace is a precious commodity. There is so much chaos in our world. Admittedly, some of it is people creating unnecessary drama and some of it is the result of community trauma. The source of the loss of peace can be the daily news broadcast or unfounded theories and speculation about the future by religious leaders. Gossip can be a peace thief as well as worry and anxiety. General bad news about the economy, politics, the housing market, the educational system, food contamination, and automobile call-backs bombard the walls of our peace. Family or personal illness may be the culprit as well. Still, it’s really up to us to protect our peace. It’s up to us to determine what things we allow to reside in our minds and rob us of our peace. We choose the importance of an issue, and we choose the exposure we want to have to peace disrupters.

During the worst days of the Pandemic, my mom became an avid news watcher. The things she saw on TV upset her terribly. Sometimes she thought the repeated stories were new events and that made it worst. I asked her to stop watching the news so much and to watch things like cooking shows and game shows especially before bedtime. The daily local and world news was affecting her sleep, her appetite, and her general peace of mind. There seemed to be nothing but bad news. There are many people who act like the news broadcast, they are the source of bad news in our lives. Whenever you see them or talk to them, they have nothing but upsetting news to report. Their media feeds are filled with it; they have negative opinions about everything. They have the same effect that watching the news had on my mom and we must choose to turn them off.

It may be hard for you to think about cutting people off, especially family members, but healthy boundaries create healthy lives. Our minds can only take so much stress before it takes its toll physically and mentally. That’s why setting boundaries in relationships is important. We should set our expectations when interacting with others, as well as they should set their expectations for interacting with us. This will ensure our physical and emotional comfort and clarify individual responsibilities in the relationship. For example, I refuse to discuss politics with anyone because political discussions have become so divisive. This is my personal opinion and my personal choice. I do not ask others to follow my preference, I simply let them know where I stand and quietly bow out of the conversation. I cannot be prodded into joining a conversation about politics. If my boundary is not respected, I physically remove myself from the company of that person or persons.

Sometimes protecting your peace means using what you already know about a situation or an individual. If you know certain people like to keep confusion and chaos going, avoid their company. If you know someone whose pastime is arguing. Avoid group conversations with them. Avoid having to be defensive in relationships and don’t be afraid to tell people about your boundaries. You don’t have to offend them or ask them to change. It’s really about you and not about them. They are allowed to be who they want to be. You can simply say, “I would rather not have this discussion.” Or “Please excuse me I have to leave now.” Or “thanks for the invitation, but I won’t be able to come.” We can find creative ways to protect our peace.

I would be remised if I didn’t also say we should hold close those people and surroundings that bring us peace. Certain people and places make you feel comfortable and welcomed. Around them you can be your authentic self, and you know they are being authentic with you. Or perhaps there’s a place that calms your spirit and bring back that peace of mind you long for. My best friend is one of those people. We can talk or not talk when we are together, it’s comfortable and we have genuine love and respect for one another. We can enjoy many things together because we have similar likes and dislikes. I’m peaceful in her presence. Most of you know my go to place for peace is the river or the ocean, but truly any source of nature brings peace to my soul. I have my desk facing the window so I can see the trees and the birds in my backyard (and the creek waters in the rainy season). So, it’s not just about blocking boundaries, it’s also about opening boundaries to let the right things in.

Do you have peace in your life? Are you the source of confusion and chaos or is it another person or group? Is your peace important to you? Do you savor peaceful moments? Do you know how to protect your peace? I would love to hear your perspective on this topic. In the meantime, may peace abound in your life more and more,

Be Safe. Be Kind. Be peaceful.

Sunset Over the Ocean