Clutter jangles your vibes and acts as a power drain on the main supply. A cluttered life is out of control. Even if I'm "used to it," I'm subconsciously drained by clutter so I may seek an out and use busy-ness as a form of escape when the pressure and responsibility of coping become overwhelming. Life can be cluttered by things, people, the stuff we collect. I can surround myself with so many material things that I have no time for anything else and those things can negatively influence my well-being.
Sports, TV, clubs, lodges, church or community activity, ballet lessons, "friend's" phone calls, hobbies etc. are all useful tools to escape the reality of a dull, boring life which doesn't fulfill a Cinderella/Prince Charming "happily ever after" life, which is a fantasy anyway.
It surprised me to find out how much I contributed to overall beauty just by eliminating clutter from around my own personal environment. Disorder causes an energy drain. When things are in order they are energy compatible.
Each step you take toward order adds a positive charge to your run-down battery. Pretty soon you'll have energy to jump start and we'll be able to unclutter, and get back to basics: simple, straight, order.
Order has important rewards. It makes us healthier, happier, safer, and saves time and energy. It improves our disposition because we feel better when we are in control of things. It helps everyone develop self-discipline and consideration for others. It produces a more tranquil atmosphere and more harmony among family members, but more importantly it produces peace within ourselves, allowing us to better cope with life as we find it.
When your clutter level gets too high, don't blow a gasket. I'll show you, step by step, what you'll need to do to get your house mother-in-law clean and keep it that way in two hours or less.
If your energy level is, like mine, so low that you can hardly get going, give yourself a break! Don't be overwhelmed by the mountain you have to climb. If you get up, take a shower, get dressed and comb your hair, consider yourself a success. Yeaaay! We can climb from here. Add to this routine making your bed. Way to go! When you've got these two mastered for a week, go on and add doing the dishes to your new routine.
Taking a feet-up Smiley Break is a must. Do it often. Smiley Breaks do not include watching TV. Current research shows that TV watching drains energy. A Smiley Break is a five-minute reward you give yourself for a job well done. (Any job is well done if you do it because only you can please you.) Wipe your forehead with the back of your wrist. Smile. Way to go! Take a deep breath...in through the nose...out through the mouth. Again. Smiley Break rewards are taken sitting down, preferably with your feet up.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Safety First
The doorbell rang. I went to answer it and peeked out the peephole. What? That can't be a hook and ladder fire truck parked in front of my house! (It was!) I sniffed for smoke and threw open the door. Standing there with a polite smile on his face, was the tallest, most imposing fireman I've ever seen up close. I'm not even sure if I'd ever seen another fireman that close, imposing or not.
"Hello. We're checking houses in the neighborhood for fire hazards. If we find you have any we will stick a red fire hazard sticker on them."
"Sure, c'mon in. The kids told us it was fire safety week. They pretty much took care of all the fire hazards they spotted."
"Well, I'm glad to say they didn't leave many unspotted. However, there is a problem in the garage." (Right! The garage is all kinds of a disaster area but I thought the kids had taken care of the spontaneous combustibles.)
"All exits must be clear and the pathways to them also. See these tables here?" The tables in question were two folded card tables leaning against the wall and sticking out about six inches into the pathway to the side yard exit which we seldom used. "In case of a fire, no exit or pathway to any exit should be impeded. I won't give you a sticker because you have already cleared the pathway. Congratulate the young fire safety experts. Have a nice day."
Take a look around. Is the pathway to any exit impeded? Could anyone run from any room in the house (as in to escape a fire or to answer the phone) without tripping over something that doesn't belong there (toys, clothing, auto parts, fast food containers, laundry)? Clear the pathways.
When Wendle came into his wife's home office, he tripped over something on the floor, turning his ankle. His mild rebuke was a gem, "This has gone beyond messy, it's now an issue of safety!"
Does this scene sound familiar? Has your clutter level reached a point where it's gotten out of control, gone beyond messy into un-safety or become a health hazard? If this is the case and conditions are unsafe, deal with those first. You can have lots of stuff and still have a safe environment.
Is every flat surface piled with things like leftover pepperoni pizza, the melted ice dregs of somebody's soda-pop, last week's newspaper, last year's magazines or even worse, last year's newspapers? Maybe all of the above and more?
You may not want to bother with organizing your socks drawer, but the spoiled food in the refrigerator is risky. Salmonella grows rapidly and other little nasties may lie behind the scenes. I was grown up before I realized LA CUCARACHA wasn't just a cute, catchy song.
My introduction to maggots came when I was working with a non-op. I didn't know what they were. Flies? Really? Yuck! The transition from maggots to flies was further shown on the floor of the children's playroom where several thousand dead flies lay by the glass doors.
I can say about the same for my first experience with six inches of mold growing up out of a pot of beans on the back burner of another non-op I worked with.
I can top that experience. I went on a first consulting visit to a non-op. She had agreed to work with me, although she was reclusive. It was a blustery March day and I had a fairly longish drive out to her place past the outskirts of town. She had several children, the youngest was nine months old and crawling. The entire house at floor level was beyond unsafe. I barely made it to a place to sit without breaking a leg. I tried not to show my emotions as I watched the baby crawl toward an atrophied mouse caught in a trap amid the dried needles under the Christmas tree.
I can even top that experience. I cleaned a fourteen-room house I owned that had been rented to a sweet young couple--but they turned it into a commune. Twenty-five "hippies" lived there, and when they moved out I didn't allow anyone to come near it for fear they might catch a terminal illness. I cleaned it out myself with a push garage broom, a shovel, a bucket of pine oil water, a garden hose, and hauled away three trailers full of garbage. The "hippies" had used one room for nature calls, some of which they just left on the floor, some of which they contained in bottles of various shapes and sizes and threw out the window into the hay-high weeds. My, what a lot of different kinds of beer bottles. Wait! This isn't beer!
I consider these examples of "beyond messy" and way into the field of health and safety or should I say unhealthy and unsafe.
Jennifer had just returned from a shopping spree. Among her purchases was a storage container to be assembled. She went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. The kitchen was a mess and there were flies on the cats' bowl. Rather than clean up the mess and get rid of the flies, she chose to put the storage container together because that was more fun.
Questioning why she didn't deal with the flies, she told herself, "That's gross! Excuse me! If not you, who? Mom ain't here no more. What? You think a genie's gonna pop out of a lamp or a fairy godmother's gonna wave her magic wand and everything will sparkle? Get real! Reality is it won't take 30 seconds to rinse out the cats' bowl. This is one of those safety first times--DO IT NOW!"
In checking out why she didn't deal with the flies, Jennifer used some great excuses. 1) "I didn't care about the flies--that was a lie, the bowl looked gross! 2) My brain didn't process the information past my eyes--also a lie--I saw it and thought it was gross! 3) The mess was overwhelming and draining, taking all of my energy--another lie--I assembled the storage container. 4) I am able to compartmentalize my actions. My brain separates what my eyes see into compartments and I can see the mess, the flies, process the information, assess it, analyze it, decide it isn't important to me and shine it on (ignore it)."
"Wait a minute! There's nobody here but me. If not me, who? The choice is mine. Yes, I can ignore it, but that won't help. The flies will allow maggots and multiply the grossness. Thirty seconds? Come on!"
Try thinking of yourself as a Buckstop (as in the buck stops here with you) and deal with life now as you find it. Reality is putting this newspaper in the trash, this little paper in the trash, this sweater in the closet. A mess isn't one newspaper on the sofa, but if you always leave the newspaper on the sofa, it becomes a mess. You can keep up, not let it go. If you do let it go, you'll have to do a marathon to catch up.
"Hello. We're checking houses in the neighborhood for fire hazards. If we find you have any we will stick a red fire hazard sticker on them."
"Sure, c'mon in. The kids told us it was fire safety week. They pretty much took care of all the fire hazards they spotted."
"Well, I'm glad to say they didn't leave many unspotted. However, there is a problem in the garage." (Right! The garage is all kinds of a disaster area but I thought the kids had taken care of the spontaneous combustibles.)
"All exits must be clear and the pathways to them also. See these tables here?" The tables in question were two folded card tables leaning against the wall and sticking out about six inches into the pathway to the side yard exit which we seldom used. "In case of a fire, no exit or pathway to any exit should be impeded. I won't give you a sticker because you have already cleared the pathway. Congratulate the young fire safety experts. Have a nice day."
Take a look around. Is the pathway to any exit impeded? Could anyone run from any room in the house (as in to escape a fire or to answer the phone) without tripping over something that doesn't belong there (toys, clothing, auto parts, fast food containers, laundry)? Clear the pathways.
When Wendle came into his wife's home office, he tripped over something on the floor, turning his ankle. His mild rebuke was a gem, "This has gone beyond messy, it's now an issue of safety!"
Does this scene sound familiar? Has your clutter level reached a point where it's gotten out of control, gone beyond messy into un-safety or become a health hazard? If this is the case and conditions are unsafe, deal with those first. You can have lots of stuff and still have a safe environment.
Is every flat surface piled with things like leftover pepperoni pizza, the melted ice dregs of somebody's soda-pop, last week's newspaper, last year's magazines or even worse, last year's newspapers? Maybe all of the above and more?
You may not want to bother with organizing your socks drawer, but the spoiled food in the refrigerator is risky. Salmonella grows rapidly and other little nasties may lie behind the scenes. I was grown up before I realized LA CUCARACHA wasn't just a cute, catchy song.
My introduction to maggots came when I was working with a non-op. I didn't know what they were. Flies? Really? Yuck! The transition from maggots to flies was further shown on the floor of the children's playroom where several thousand dead flies lay by the glass doors.
I can say about the same for my first experience with six inches of mold growing up out of a pot of beans on the back burner of another non-op I worked with.
I can top that experience. I went on a first consulting visit to a non-op. She had agreed to work with me, although she was reclusive. It was a blustery March day and I had a fairly longish drive out to her place past the outskirts of town. She had several children, the youngest was nine months old and crawling. The entire house at floor level was beyond unsafe. I barely made it to a place to sit without breaking a leg. I tried not to show my emotions as I watched the baby crawl toward an atrophied mouse caught in a trap amid the dried needles under the Christmas tree.
I can even top that experience. I cleaned a fourteen-room house I owned that had been rented to a sweet young couple--but they turned it into a commune. Twenty-five "hippies" lived there, and when they moved out I didn't allow anyone to come near it for fear they might catch a terminal illness. I cleaned it out myself with a push garage broom, a shovel, a bucket of pine oil water, a garden hose, and hauled away three trailers full of garbage. The "hippies" had used one room for nature calls, some of which they just left on the floor, some of which they contained in bottles of various shapes and sizes and threw out the window into the hay-high weeds. My, what a lot of different kinds of beer bottles. Wait! This isn't beer!
I consider these examples of "beyond messy" and way into the field of health and safety or should I say unhealthy and unsafe.
Jennifer had just returned from a shopping spree. Among her purchases was a storage container to be assembled. She went into the kitchen to get a drink of water. The kitchen was a mess and there were flies on the cats' bowl. Rather than clean up the mess and get rid of the flies, she chose to put the storage container together because that was more fun.
Questioning why she didn't deal with the flies, she told herself, "That's gross! Excuse me! If not you, who? Mom ain't here no more. What? You think a genie's gonna pop out of a lamp or a fairy godmother's gonna wave her magic wand and everything will sparkle? Get real! Reality is it won't take 30 seconds to rinse out the cats' bowl. This is one of those safety first times--DO IT NOW!"
In checking out why she didn't deal with the flies, Jennifer used some great excuses. 1) "I didn't care about the flies--that was a lie, the bowl looked gross! 2) My brain didn't process the information past my eyes--also a lie--I saw it and thought it was gross! 3) The mess was overwhelming and draining, taking all of my energy--another lie--I assembled the storage container. 4) I am able to compartmentalize my actions. My brain separates what my eyes see into compartments and I can see the mess, the flies, process the information, assess it, analyze it, decide it isn't important to me and shine it on (ignore it)."
"Wait a minute! There's nobody here but me. If not me, who? The choice is mine. Yes, I can ignore it, but that won't help. The flies will allow maggots and multiply the grossness. Thirty seconds? Come on!"
Try thinking of yourself as a Buckstop (as in the buck stops here with you) and deal with life now as you find it. Reality is putting this newspaper in the trash, this little paper in the trash, this sweater in the closet. A mess isn't one newspaper on the sofa, but if you always leave the newspaper on the sofa, it becomes a mess. You can keep up, not let it go. If you do let it go, you'll have to do a marathon to catch up.
Personal Hygiene
Lack of caring about self, manifested by general sloppiness, specifically, skipping regular sessions of personal hygiene, not dressing at all, or going around in old sweats is a sure sign of a self-esteem problem. When my depression was at its worst, I went four days without bathing, washing my face, brushing my teeth, combing my hair or dressing. This was totally out of character for one who usually showered or bathed at least once every day.
On the other hand there are people who have a problem with personal hygiene who are NOT depressed. Often it is because for one reason or another, their sense of smell is in some way impaired. This is a very delicate problem. I have had several inquiries as to the best method of telling a friend she/he has an odor problem. In the newspaper advice columns the subject has been handled with both humor and rudeness. I took an informal poll and discovered not one person was willing to say anything even though all thought the problem serious. The consensus of opinion was: "How can you tell a friend 'you stink' politely? There is no way."
Shower or bathe every day at least once. If you work hard or have a dirty job, twice might not be often enough.
Brush your teeth in the early morning before meeting others. I remember the new bride who woke up early so she could brush her teeth before her husband woke up and kissed her good morning.
Shampoo your hair at least once a week. My youngest daughter, who has hair so long she sits on it, washes her hair every day and oftener if she swims.
Use a good deodorant every day, but not necessarily a highly scented one. Ask a family member if it works for you. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, your old standby doesn't do the job anymore and you need to shop around again. All members in the family are not always suited to the same brand or kind, so find out which works best for whom.
Change all undergarments at least once a day.
Change your socks at least once a day. Socks shouldn't be worn twice without being washed. Put charcoal odor pads in heavily used shoes (work, jogging).
A part of personal hygiene even the most fastidious can overlook is diet. Nature's ways to eliminate toxic wastes are via the 1) lungs (breath); 2) vomiting and diarrhea; 3) feces and urine; and 4) skin. Which method is used varies according to the toxicity of the substance ingested. Natural waste is eliminated via urine and feces but the more overloaded the system, the more help is needed, so the lungs and skin get into the act. Watching to see what items of food caused odor problems, I discovered, bar none, the overall #1 winner was pepperoni pizza. The morning after a visit to the local pizza parlor, my kids' rooms would smell so rank I was sickened. Garlic and onions have long been known. Heavy spices, hot foods, chili, and peppers, were some of the others I found. Natural hygienists say that if one eliminates garbage, junk food, and toxic substances from the diet, body odor problems will be eliminated, including odorous waste elimination via urine and feces.
Stress causes chemical changes in the body which can cause odor problems. We have all seen enough TV commercials for deodorants to know what kinds of things are at fault. We have less control over this kind of problem, but the basic rules of hygiene will usually work in this area too.
Another area that even fastidious people, especially those who sew their own clothing, sometimes overlook is fabric selection. Manmade fabrics are relatively inexpensive and easy to work with but they have a built-in major health problem: they don't breathe and they react to body chemicals to retain odors even after washing. The only cure I have found is to wear the garment only once even though it is apparently clean, and when laundering use a few drops of pine oil (or other disinfectant) along with the regular washing cleaners. Pine oil is the most effective deodorizer I have found and I use it to disinfect sinks, toilets, floor, and laundry.
On the other hand there are people who have a problem with personal hygiene who are NOT depressed. Often it is because for one reason or another, their sense of smell is in some way impaired. This is a very delicate problem. I have had several inquiries as to the best method of telling a friend she/he has an odor problem. In the newspaper advice columns the subject has been handled with both humor and rudeness. I took an informal poll and discovered not one person was willing to say anything even though all thought the problem serious. The consensus of opinion was: "How can you tell a friend 'you stink' politely? There is no way."
Shower or bathe every day at least once. If you work hard or have a dirty job, twice might not be often enough.
Brush your teeth in the early morning before meeting others. I remember the new bride who woke up early so she could brush her teeth before her husband woke up and kissed her good morning.
Shampoo your hair at least once a week. My youngest daughter, who has hair so long she sits on it, washes her hair every day and oftener if she swims.
Use a good deodorant every day, but not necessarily a highly scented one. Ask a family member if it works for you. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, your old standby doesn't do the job anymore and you need to shop around again. All members in the family are not always suited to the same brand or kind, so find out which works best for whom.
Change all undergarments at least once a day.
Change your socks at least once a day. Socks shouldn't be worn twice without being washed. Put charcoal odor pads in heavily used shoes (work, jogging).
A part of personal hygiene even the most fastidious can overlook is diet. Nature's ways to eliminate toxic wastes are via the 1) lungs (breath); 2) vomiting and diarrhea; 3) feces and urine; and 4) skin. Which method is used varies according to the toxicity of the substance ingested. Natural waste is eliminated via urine and feces but the more overloaded the system, the more help is needed, so the lungs and skin get into the act. Watching to see what items of food caused odor problems, I discovered, bar none, the overall #1 winner was pepperoni pizza. The morning after a visit to the local pizza parlor, my kids' rooms would smell so rank I was sickened. Garlic and onions have long been known. Heavy spices, hot foods, chili, and peppers, were some of the others I found. Natural hygienists say that if one eliminates garbage, junk food, and toxic substances from the diet, body odor problems will be eliminated, including odorous waste elimination via urine and feces.
Stress causes chemical changes in the body which can cause odor problems. We have all seen enough TV commercials for deodorants to know what kinds of things are at fault. We have less control over this kind of problem, but the basic rules of hygiene will usually work in this area too.
Another area that even fastidious people, especially those who sew their own clothing, sometimes overlook is fabric selection. Manmade fabrics are relatively inexpensive and easy to work with but they have a built-in major health problem: they don't breathe and they react to body chemicals to retain odors even after washing. The only cure I have found is to wear the garment only once even though it is apparently clean, and when laundering use a few drops of pine oil (or other disinfectant) along with the regular washing cleaners. Pine oil is the most effective deodorizer I have found and I use it to disinfect sinks, toilets, floor, and laundry.
Capable
Having learned my physical body isn't capable of bringing about or maintaining peace, serenity, order, quiet, harmony, beauty and simplicity in my house all at once, I needed a plan to supply energy and strength to accomplish my goals. I knew I was not capable of doing everything, so I picked and chose what was most important to me.
Whenever things are going wrong in my life I check my priorities. It's likely I've let them slip out of alignment and I need to get them back in the correct order, which is:
1) SELF TO GOD
2) SELF TO SELF
3) SELF TO SPOUSE
4) SELF TO CHILDREN
5) SELF TO FAMILY
6) SELF TO CHURCH
7) SELF TO COMMUNITY
Prioritizing keeps me from wasting my inheritance, or time, in pursuit of riotous living (I can't take it with me). I take a hard look at the way I'm using my time--work, ambition, affiliations, habits and say no to those things that rob me of time and infringe on my agency to choose to live in happiness. Today is reality. It's all I have. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may not get here. Today is okay. I can make of it what I will. I do the best I can, where I am, with what I have and look toward excellence. I remind myself to run only as fast as I'm able and not try to accomplish miracles overnight.
When I was young I didn't think anything about hopping on one foot while I put on my socks but as I got older I gave way to age and sat down to put on my socks. Yet something so basic as putting on socks can be a brain strengthener or fountain of youth. Balancing on one foot to put on my socks strengthens or builds a part of my brain that slows the aging process; so does ballroom dancing.
I watched a TV feature which showed therapists working with wheelchair-bound elderly people who used to sit and vegetate. They used simple exercises--such as extending arms to the front then bending elbows to touch shoulders or standing in a group circle holding hands, raising the hands high and back down while lifting the left foot to the right then the right foot to the left in time with the music--allow the brain to strengthen the neuro-synapses, the roadway of the brain. Those same therapists put a belt attached to a pulley connected to prescribed weights around the waist of an older person previously unable to walk, then jerked the belt with prescribed jerks, and trained the person to keep his balance, eventually enabling him to walk again. I call this mind setting and liken it to computer programming. If I haven't put it in I can't get it out.
Whenever things are going wrong in my life I check my priorities. It's likely I've let them slip out of alignment and I need to get them back in the correct order, which is:
1) SELF TO GOD
2) SELF TO SELF
3) SELF TO SPOUSE
4) SELF TO CHILDREN
5) SELF TO FAMILY
6) SELF TO CHURCH
7) SELF TO COMMUNITY
Prioritizing keeps me from wasting my inheritance, or time, in pursuit of riotous living (I can't take it with me). I take a hard look at the way I'm using my time--work, ambition, affiliations, habits and say no to those things that rob me of time and infringe on my agency to choose to live in happiness. Today is reality. It's all I have. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow may not get here. Today is okay. I can make of it what I will. I do the best I can, where I am, with what I have and look toward excellence. I remind myself to run only as fast as I'm able and not try to accomplish miracles overnight.
When I was young I didn't think anything about hopping on one foot while I put on my socks but as I got older I gave way to age and sat down to put on my socks. Yet something so basic as putting on socks can be a brain strengthener or fountain of youth. Balancing on one foot to put on my socks strengthens or builds a part of my brain that slows the aging process; so does ballroom dancing.
I watched a TV feature which showed therapists working with wheelchair-bound elderly people who used to sit and vegetate. They used simple exercises--such as extending arms to the front then bending elbows to touch shoulders or standing in a group circle holding hands, raising the hands high and back down while lifting the left foot to the right then the right foot to the left in time with the music--allow the brain to strengthen the neuro-synapses, the roadway of the brain. Those same therapists put a belt attached to a pulley connected to prescribed weights around the waist of an older person previously unable to walk, then jerked the belt with prescribed jerks, and trained the person to keep his balance, eventually enabling him to walk again. I call this mind setting and liken it to computer programming. If I haven't put it in I can't get it out.
Health Problems
For years I had a wide variety of symptoms, including chronic fatigue and depression, but the doctors I consulted said there was nothing wrong with me and sent me to a psychiatrist. As if traveling 87 miles one way once a week or even once a month would cure my fatigue! It didn't. Years later I was still tired all the time.
It was my birthday. I'd gotten up late, had several phone calls, a couple of bouquets of flowers had been delivered, and some friends brought by a fresh strawberry and whipped cream birthday cake. It was my favorite kind, and I could hardly wait until they left to sample it. It looked much more attractive than the cold cereal I was just about to eat. It was delicious!
Several more friends came by throughout the day to wish me well and I got hungry in between the visits so I had another piece of cake. That evening I had another piece. When another friend came by to visit I complained about not feeling very well. About ten o'clock that night my husband felt sorry for me and fixed me a birthday meal.
The next day we traveled the long distance to visit family. I hadn't seen my 83-year-old brother-in-law for some time. The first words he said as he opened the door to invite us in was, "My Gosh, Lorrainie! You look like you have diabetes."
"No, George, I'm just tired from traveling."
"No! You go get a diabetes test first thing in the morning, promise?"
"Doctor, does a diabetes test require fasting?"
"No."
"My brother-in-law thinks I should have one."
"Is he a doctor?"
"No. He's 83." I figured anybody who'd been around that long must know what he was talking about!
So the test was taken and proved to be so scary the doctor called to have me admitted to the hospital on the spot. Fortunately, the endocrinologist didn't think that was necessary. He prescribed pills, which I reluctantly took, and the difference the pills made was like night and day.
I only had to take the pills for a few weeks. A dietitian, who did more for my health than all the doctors combined, prescribed an eating plan time schedule. She told me about portion size and eating oftener. Taking her advice and acting on it has allowed me to overcome many of the symptoms that had kept me almost an invalid for years.
For fifteen years I had consulted various doctors because I was always tired. I complained of my lack of energy and my depression. I lost twenty-five per cent of the vision in my right eye overnight. I consulted about an infection. All these were major symptoms of diabetes. I had multitudes of expensive tests. I was told my symptoms were atypical of any known disease. No doctor ever ran the simple test for diabetes.
It was my birthday. I'd gotten up late, had several phone calls, a couple of bouquets of flowers had been delivered, and some friends brought by a fresh strawberry and whipped cream birthday cake. It was my favorite kind, and I could hardly wait until they left to sample it. It looked much more attractive than the cold cereal I was just about to eat. It was delicious!
Several more friends came by throughout the day to wish me well and I got hungry in between the visits so I had another piece of cake. That evening I had another piece. When another friend came by to visit I complained about not feeling very well. About ten o'clock that night my husband felt sorry for me and fixed me a birthday meal.
The next day we traveled the long distance to visit family. I hadn't seen my 83-year-old brother-in-law for some time. The first words he said as he opened the door to invite us in was, "My Gosh, Lorrainie! You look like you have diabetes."
"No, George, I'm just tired from traveling."
"No! You go get a diabetes test first thing in the morning, promise?"
"Doctor, does a diabetes test require fasting?"
"No."
"My brother-in-law thinks I should have one."
"Is he a doctor?"
"No. He's 83." I figured anybody who'd been around that long must know what he was talking about!
So the test was taken and proved to be so scary the doctor called to have me admitted to the hospital on the spot. Fortunately, the endocrinologist didn't think that was necessary. He prescribed pills, which I reluctantly took, and the difference the pills made was like night and day.
I only had to take the pills for a few weeks. A dietitian, who did more for my health than all the doctors combined, prescribed an eating plan time schedule. She told me about portion size and eating oftener. Taking her advice and acting on it has allowed me to overcome many of the symptoms that had kept me almost an invalid for years.
For fifteen years I had consulted various doctors because I was always tired. I complained of my lack of energy and my depression. I lost twenty-five per cent of the vision in my right eye overnight. I consulted about an infection. All these were major symptoms of diabetes. I had multitudes of expensive tests. I was told my symptoms were atypical of any known disease. No doctor ever ran the simple test for diabetes.
Ready?
With your heart singing because of your newly neat linen closet you are ready to go to the public rooms. These are the places outsiders will see, such as an entryway, a living room, or guest bathroom. There's nothing quite so embarrassing as having the UPS man need to use your guest bathroom, and it's so full he can't. Martha put her soiled pots and pans in her bathtub and closed the shower curtain, this was after both of her double ovens were full. On the other hand, it makes you feel great when that UPS man comes out and says "What a great bathroom." You won't ever have to apologize for the mess again.
If you are starting from scratch to clear, and have a major mess, realize we aren't talking instant pudding here. If you have limited time (don't we all?), 15 minutes may be all you have today. Be like Scarlett from Gone with the Wind and don't worry about that today; after all, tomorrow is another day. You may think you have energy enough to do it all now, but if you do more than you have strength for, when tomorrow comes you won't want to "get on with the program."
If you lack energy like I did, (I couldn't even hold my head up, it was too heavy) maybe you, too, have a health problem. Check it out.
If you are starting from scratch to clear, and have a major mess, realize we aren't talking instant pudding here. If you have limited time (don't we all?), 15 minutes may be all you have today. Be like Scarlett from Gone with the Wind and don't worry about that today; after all, tomorrow is another day. You may think you have energy enough to do it all now, but if you do more than you have strength for, when tomorrow comes you won't want to "get on with the program."
If you lack energy like I did, (I couldn't even hold my head up, it was too heavy) maybe you, too, have a health problem. Check it out.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
The Happy Linen Closet
I went to one of those parties where you buy things and was introduced to the woman next to me there from Schenectady who was visiting her daughter. When she heard my name she exclaimed, "I tri-fold my towels! It's the greatest trick I ever learned. I love it! I go to my closet several times a day just to see how neat it is!" I hadn't even considered writing this book so how could a woman from New York hear about me and the tri-folded towel? It turned out the daughter she'd come to see had been in a class of mine.
What is important about a tri-folded towel?
Who cares?
Most of us, at one time or another, have a closet that "spills over." In the old days they were referred to as a Fibber McGee's closet after the famous radio hero who was always going to clean out his closet but never did and whenever he opened the door everything fell out with a loud clatter (Fibber McGee and Molly). These days we don't have time for clutter (nor its resultant clatter).
Try this experiment. It's something fun and simple. Go to the towel shelf of your linen closet. Clear that shelf of everything, down to the board. Remember we are only working with one towel shelf. Take all the towels to a comfy spot, preferably a bed. Sit down, take one towel lengthwise, one hand gripping each end, and fold toward the center third. Repeat with the other edge. Fold end to end in half and in half again.
Voila! A tri-folded towel. This is the fastest, neatest way to fold towels (so no edges show) and when the towels are stacked so that the fold of the towel is at the front edge of the closet shelf, you have a neat closet. The towels are easier to get at, and they stay stacked better than flat corner-to-corner stacks, which look unkempt because the edges show. Try it. You'll like it.
Now fold the pillow cases the same way: lengthwise edge into the center, in thirds; then end to end, which makes a fold at the middle; then fold again, this time fold to the end. Sheets are a bit harder because they are bulky. Find all four corners of the sheet. Don't shake it or fluff it, just find the first two corners (on a long side) and put them together in one hand. Holding the corners in one hand, use your other hand to find the other two corners. With the other hand, from the corners, run your fingers out until you end at the fold. Take the fold and put it with the four corners. Repeat the process. Next, fold the sheet at the middle. Again. Be sure to keep all edges turned to the inside and all folds to the outside, that way you will see no messy edges.
Stack the folded sheets on the sheet shelf with the huge fold at the edge of the shelf facing out (front) and the other ends facing in (back). When all the linens are folded and stacked this way the psychological lift you will get from seeing a neat closet every time you reach for a fresh towel will surprise you.
Wasn't that simple?
What is important about a tri-folded towel?
Who cares?
Most of us, at one time or another, have a closet that "spills over." In the old days they were referred to as a Fibber McGee's closet after the famous radio hero who was always going to clean out his closet but never did and whenever he opened the door everything fell out with a loud clatter (Fibber McGee and Molly). These days we don't have time for clutter (nor its resultant clatter).
Try this experiment. It's something fun and simple. Go to the towel shelf of your linen closet. Clear that shelf of everything, down to the board. Remember we are only working with one towel shelf. Take all the towels to a comfy spot, preferably a bed. Sit down, take one towel lengthwise, one hand gripping each end, and fold toward the center third. Repeat with the other edge. Fold end to end in half and in half again.
Voila! A tri-folded towel. This is the fastest, neatest way to fold towels (so no edges show) and when the towels are stacked so that the fold of the towel is at the front edge of the closet shelf, you have a neat closet. The towels are easier to get at, and they stay stacked better than flat corner-to-corner stacks, which look unkempt because the edges show. Try it. You'll like it.
Now fold the pillow cases the same way: lengthwise edge into the center, in thirds; then end to end, which makes a fold at the middle; then fold again, this time fold to the end. Sheets are a bit harder because they are bulky. Find all four corners of the sheet. Don't shake it or fluff it, just find the first two corners (on a long side) and put them together in one hand. Holding the corners in one hand, use your other hand to find the other two corners. With the other hand, from the corners, run your fingers out until you end at the fold. Take the fold and put it with the four corners. Repeat the process. Next, fold the sheet at the middle. Again. Be sure to keep all edges turned to the inside and all folds to the outside, that way you will see no messy edges.
Stack the folded sheets on the sheet shelf with the huge fold at the edge of the shelf facing out (front) and the other ends facing in (back). When all the linens are folded and stacked this way the psychological lift you will get from seeing a neat closet every time you reach for a fresh towel will surprise you.
Wasn't that simple?
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The Heart of Your Home
One of the nicest compliments I ever received was from a new friend who said "You have a beautiful home." Really? This lady spent more on junk jewelry than I had to run my family for an entire year. The "house" in question was a twenty-plus-year-old condominium we had leased for a year. About all I could say positive about it was the complex had a fairly good tennis pro and the tennis courts were adequate. I thought it was dark and dismal but she went on to tell me that whenever she visited she felt happy, peaceful and serene. While I was busy thinking how to thank her for the nice comment she went on to say, "No. It isn't the house, it would be the same anywhere. You are the heart of your home. Wherever you are your home would be the same."
I analyzed her words. I wanted to believe them. Do I do something special to make my guests feel welcome? I thought about how I feel when I visit others. The next time I had a visitor I noted what I did. When a guest knocks I get up and go to the door. Doesn't everyone? No. I've visited and in response to my knock I've often been yelled at, "C'mon in!" I hesitantly open the door, wondering if the dog is friendly, peek inside, again wondering if I really am welcome. After searching for the occupant and finding them doing some task from which they seemingly don't wish to be disturbed (watching TV, reading the newspaper) I transfer my weight from one foot to the other, waiting to be invited to sit or wondering if I should leave to return at a more convenient time.
"Oh, hi."
Even before guests knock I let them know I value their visit by maintaining a clear pathway to the door. No bikes overturned on the walk or driveway, the porch and steps swept, the door wiped clean of fingerprints. Then I tell my guests they are welcome.
"Hello! It's nice to see you! Come in. Please, sit down here." (haven't you ever wondered if you should sit on the antique velvet sofa or grab a kitchen chair?)
"I'm glad you came!"
Whatever reason visitors have for visiting they can be made to feel welcome. I can show I care what they have to say by looking them in the eye and listening, even if it's a message I don't want to hear.
Each time a guest leaves my home at the end of the visit I escort them to their car again telling them how much I appreciate the visit and I remain there, waiting until they leave, and I smile and wave until they are out of sight. This is second nature to me and I never thought anything about it until a woman I admired remarked how she felt so welcome when she visited me and the mood stayed after she left. She vowed she would make an effort to copy my style which she said she admired. Style? Me? How?
"You walk all your guests to their car. I've watched. Even when you have more than one, you excuse yourself from those remaining and walk each departing guest to their car. When it's my turn I feel honored."
When I thought about departing others' homes, I remembered taking my leave with the hostess remaining seated as I walked to the door. "See Ya," while I tried to open the tricky front door and keep the cat from getting out while the hostess went back to reading her newspaper. Was I really welcome? Did I really want to visit again?
That please come again feeling, that makes you feel welcome and loved is a prime ingredient in the making of a haven. Making a haven begins with simplicity by doing simple things.
What simple things?
I analyzed her words. I wanted to believe them. Do I do something special to make my guests feel welcome? I thought about how I feel when I visit others. The next time I had a visitor I noted what I did. When a guest knocks I get up and go to the door. Doesn't everyone? No. I've visited and in response to my knock I've often been yelled at, "C'mon in!" I hesitantly open the door, wondering if the dog is friendly, peek inside, again wondering if I really am welcome. After searching for the occupant and finding them doing some task from which they seemingly don't wish to be disturbed (watching TV, reading the newspaper) I transfer my weight from one foot to the other, waiting to be invited to sit or wondering if I should leave to return at a more convenient time.
"Oh, hi."
Even before guests knock I let them know I value their visit by maintaining a clear pathway to the door. No bikes overturned on the walk or driveway, the porch and steps swept, the door wiped clean of fingerprints. Then I tell my guests they are welcome.
"Hello! It's nice to see you! Come in. Please, sit down here." (haven't you ever wondered if you should sit on the antique velvet sofa or grab a kitchen chair?)
"I'm glad you came!"
Whatever reason visitors have for visiting they can be made to feel welcome. I can show I care what they have to say by looking them in the eye and listening, even if it's a message I don't want to hear.
Each time a guest leaves my home at the end of the visit I escort them to their car again telling them how much I appreciate the visit and I remain there, waiting until they leave, and I smile and wave until they are out of sight. This is second nature to me and I never thought anything about it until a woman I admired remarked how she felt so welcome when she visited me and the mood stayed after she left. She vowed she would make an effort to copy my style which she said she admired. Style? Me? How?
"You walk all your guests to their car. I've watched. Even when you have more than one, you excuse yourself from those remaining and walk each departing guest to their car. When it's my turn I feel honored."
When I thought about departing others' homes, I remembered taking my leave with the hostess remaining seated as I walked to the door. "See Ya," while I tried to open the tricky front door and keep the cat from getting out while the hostess went back to reading her newspaper. Was I really welcome? Did I really want to visit again?
That please come again feeling, that makes you feel welcome and loved is a prime ingredient in the making of a haven. Making a haven begins with simplicity by doing simple things.
What simple things?
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Where are Your Daffodils?
Donna, my long-time friend, was my close neighbor. Our kids grew up together. Our friendship has lasted through thick and thin and my many moves. We know and trust each other so when I visit her and "do my thing" with her "things" she smiles and sometimes giggles because I get involved puttering here and there, moving her decor a quarter-inch here, or six inches there, and put this item there or vice-versa. She smiles at my frowns, knowing when I finally do smile she will be delighted with the result of my efforts. "I don't know what you do, I watch, it isn't obvious, but the end product is pure artistry."
After one of these sessions she asked, "What do I need to do next?" I told her the next item on her agenda was to take care of the mess on her dresser so that her heart would sing. Donna replied, "And I need to get rid of the daffodil arrangement." I wondered why because Donna's daffodil arrangement was beautiful but for some reason she didn't like it. If she focused on the daffodils and stalled out wondering what to do with them she could sluff off doing the dresser. It's a perfect copout. She can concentrate on other things, substitute busy-ness for heartsong and she gets to keep her anger, which enables her to be disabled!
Avoidance, copout, busy-ness, addiction, call it what you like, I call it "daffodils," which allow escape from rejection, provide validation of worth and allow a person not to face what they are hiding from, which is anger engendered by the loss (theft) of self-esteem.
When the pattern of avoidance begins, I look for violation of personal "space" or for loss (theft) of self-validation. Because someone I have trusted has robbed me of the joy of being me. Powerful manipulative tools are used to bring about theft of identity, usually accomplished by rejection (invalidation) or the refusal to acknowledge individual existence. Everyone needs to exist to their loved ones and if this basic need is denied in any way we'll go to almost any length to gain acceptance (validation)--seeking employment (even the minimum wage offers monetary validation of worth), extra-marital affairs ("I am TOO desirable!"), President of the PTA ("I can TOO manage well"), politics ("I can TOO run a committee, a precinct, a city, a county.")
Where are your daffodils? Once you identify them maybe you can deal with them, one at a time by recognizing why you have invited them into your life in the first place, then testing each busy-ness by the formula: "Does it really make my heart sing? Or am I doing this to be a people pleaser?
I accomplished a major breakthrough when I discovered I didn't have to be a people pleaser to be happy. In fact, I discovered the opposite was true. The more I chose my behavior (and the things I allowed myself to get involved with) the happier I became. I had more time for me but the most significant fact soon became apparent...I lost the anger I felt when I allowed others to demand my time and services at the sacrifice of my own needs.
After one of these sessions she asked, "What do I need to do next?" I told her the next item on her agenda was to take care of the mess on her dresser so that her heart would sing. Donna replied, "And I need to get rid of the daffodil arrangement." I wondered why because Donna's daffodil arrangement was beautiful but for some reason she didn't like it. If she focused on the daffodils and stalled out wondering what to do with them she could sluff off doing the dresser. It's a perfect copout. She can concentrate on other things, substitute busy-ness for heartsong and she gets to keep her anger, which enables her to be disabled!
Avoidance, copout, busy-ness, addiction, call it what you like, I call it "daffodils," which allow escape from rejection, provide validation of worth and allow a person not to face what they are hiding from, which is anger engendered by the loss (theft) of self-esteem.
When the pattern of avoidance begins, I look for violation of personal "space" or for loss (theft) of self-validation. Because someone I have trusted has robbed me of the joy of being me. Powerful manipulative tools are used to bring about theft of identity, usually accomplished by rejection (invalidation) or the refusal to acknowledge individual existence. Everyone needs to exist to their loved ones and if this basic need is denied in any way we'll go to almost any length to gain acceptance (validation)--seeking employment (even the minimum wage offers monetary validation of worth), extra-marital affairs ("I am TOO desirable!"), President of the PTA ("I can TOO manage well"), politics ("I can TOO run a committee, a precinct, a city, a county.")
Where are your daffodils? Once you identify them maybe you can deal with them, one at a time by recognizing why you have invited them into your life in the first place, then testing each busy-ness by the formula: "Does it really make my heart sing? Or am I doing this to be a people pleaser?
I accomplished a major breakthrough when I discovered I didn't have to be a people pleaser to be happy. In fact, I discovered the opposite was true. The more I chose my behavior (and the things I allowed myself to get involved with) the happier I became. I had more time for me but the most significant fact soon became apparent...I lost the anger I felt when I allowed others to demand my time and services at the sacrifice of my own needs.
Genderless Lament
Edward, age 71, a retired engineer, came to one of my classes and voiced the "Housewife's Lament," teaching me that the Lament has no gender, but can be sung by both sexes.
I asked "What's the problem?" Edward answered, "I have so much stuff I don't have room for any more. I don't even have room for me!"
I had Edward draw a floor plan of his dwelling and fill it in with major items like furniture. He had a two-car detached garage, filled to the brim. He could neither open the side door nor get into it. He had two large sheds which were in the same condition as the garage. I had Edward "walk" me through his house to eat and sleep and relax. He could "just" get in the door. He could get to the kitchen but that didn't do him much good because the countertops were filled with various items along with the dirty dishes he "hated" to wash. There was "no reward" in repetitive drudgery. So he mostly ate out. He didn't have a table in the kitchen but he did have a bar which couldn't be used because there wasn't "a square inch" of space available on it. The rest of the house was more of the same. He could carefully walk to the bed. He could carefully get to the bathroom. He figured the square footage total of all his buildings. The house, garage, and two sheds totaled 1350 square feet. He figured the area he could walk around in and utilize for himself at 2 feet by eight feet or 16 square feet! Adding for his bed space it was still less than 50 square feet.
He could see for himself he had a problem which is why he came to class. Edward, like all first timers to class, was hoping for a miracle. Most miracles, like most millionaires, are self-made.
Edward's complaint was that he didn't have a place for a guest to sit because the chairs were full of boxes of "things" and he had no more floor space on which to set the boxes when someone "dropped in."
His "problem" was so overwhelming it sapped his strength--physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. He couldn't even use the old dodge, "The hurrier I go the behinder I get" because he couldn't even get up stamina to start anything--let alone finish it.
Where do we begin in helping Edward? Correct! The beginning! And where is the beginning? The kitchen? The dirty dishes? The boxes on the chairs? Those were Edward's most urgent problems, right? Wrong!
Whose responsibility is it that Edward's guests don't have a place to sit? Let's blame it on Edward's parents. They didn't:
A) love him enough/loved him too much
B) teach him to be a good housekeeper
C) provide a maid for him in his old age
D) all of the above
E) none of the above
If you selected E) go to the head of the class. Edward's parents are in no way responsible for the fact that his guests have no place to sit. You can see where this idea is going. Let's get to the bottom line. Edward's guests have no place to sit because that is the way EDWARD chooses it to be. If he doesn't like the way things are HE can change them! YOU can't change them for him, neither can I. We can nag, harp, push, even take it upon ourselves to take the boxes, offer to "store them at our house" but none of these is a solution to Edward's problem.
Why does Edward not choose to have a place for his guests to sit? I listened for awhile to his elaborate excuse system for why he couldn't clear a place for his guests to sit. The answer hit me immediately. Edward doesn't want people to visit him. He is angry at "people." They rejected him--first in divorce (maybe before that) then they retired him. To relieve himself of the guilt he has generated by this anger he "does things" for people (busy-ness) so that he "never has time" to do anything for himself, which is his excuse not to have a place for his guests to sit which is "getting back at people" for rejecting him by rejecting them. Complicated? Not really. Edward's problem boils down to his priorities are out of line. Maybe your problem isn't as extreme as Edward's but it is a problem to you.
Who am I? Who is Edward? Who are you? Let's get our priorities straight. We're #1!
I asked "What's the problem?" Edward answered, "I have so much stuff I don't have room for any more. I don't even have room for me!"
I had Edward draw a floor plan of his dwelling and fill it in with major items like furniture. He had a two-car detached garage, filled to the brim. He could neither open the side door nor get into it. He had two large sheds which were in the same condition as the garage. I had Edward "walk" me through his house to eat and sleep and relax. He could "just" get in the door. He could get to the kitchen but that didn't do him much good because the countertops were filled with various items along with the dirty dishes he "hated" to wash. There was "no reward" in repetitive drudgery. So he mostly ate out. He didn't have a table in the kitchen but he did have a bar which couldn't be used because there wasn't "a square inch" of space available on it. The rest of the house was more of the same. He could carefully walk to the bed. He could carefully get to the bathroom. He figured the square footage total of all his buildings. The house, garage, and two sheds totaled 1350 square feet. He figured the area he could walk around in and utilize for himself at 2 feet by eight feet or 16 square feet! Adding for his bed space it was still less than 50 square feet.
He could see for himself he had a problem which is why he came to class. Edward, like all first timers to class, was hoping for a miracle. Most miracles, like most millionaires, are self-made.
Edward's complaint was that he didn't have a place for a guest to sit because the chairs were full of boxes of "things" and he had no more floor space on which to set the boxes when someone "dropped in."
His "problem" was so overwhelming it sapped his strength--physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. He couldn't even use the old dodge, "The hurrier I go the behinder I get" because he couldn't even get up stamina to start anything--let alone finish it.
Where do we begin in helping Edward? Correct! The beginning! And where is the beginning? The kitchen? The dirty dishes? The boxes on the chairs? Those were Edward's most urgent problems, right? Wrong!
Whose responsibility is it that Edward's guests don't have a place to sit? Let's blame it on Edward's parents. They didn't:
A) love him enough/loved him too much
B) teach him to be a good housekeeper
C) provide a maid for him in his old age
D) all of the above
E) none of the above
If you selected E) go to the head of the class. Edward's parents are in no way responsible for the fact that his guests have no place to sit. You can see where this idea is going. Let's get to the bottom line. Edward's guests have no place to sit because that is the way EDWARD chooses it to be. If he doesn't like the way things are HE can change them! YOU can't change them for him, neither can I. We can nag, harp, push, even take it upon ourselves to take the boxes, offer to "store them at our house" but none of these is a solution to Edward's problem.
Why does Edward not choose to have a place for his guests to sit? I listened for awhile to his elaborate excuse system for why he couldn't clear a place for his guests to sit. The answer hit me immediately. Edward doesn't want people to visit him. He is angry at "people." They rejected him--first in divorce (maybe before that) then they retired him. To relieve himself of the guilt he has generated by this anger he "does things" for people (busy-ness) so that he "never has time" to do anything for himself, which is his excuse not to have a place for his guests to sit which is "getting back at people" for rejecting him by rejecting them. Complicated? Not really. Edward's problem boils down to his priorities are out of line. Maybe your problem isn't as extreme as Edward's but it is a problem to you.
Who am I? Who is Edward? Who are you? Let's get our priorities straight. We're #1!
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Are You Busy or Are You Hiding?
It was Easter vacation. The youngest (and only one still living at home) was out of high school for the week. His mother, who had finally discovered she had a life of her own, visited me. She looked terrible. She hadn't combed her hair. She had on an old T-shirt, no make-up and her mouth drooped. She had a multitude of excuses for why she hadn't brought her current project to work on. When asked what was wrong, she snapped and admitted she had a headache. (Headaches aren't allowed.) Why? Did you follow your eating regimen? Get adequate rest? We checked out every possible reason until it finally dawned on her. Her 15-year-old was home from school for the week. That was it! She was avoiding him and his violation of "her" space. She'd gone to lunch with a friend, gone shopping, gone visiting, had just plain gone to avoid dealing with him on a continual basis. She was inventing busy-ness to avoid life!
Another example of busy-ness is Marie, who fills every second of her time with a full-time career, graduate school classes, a husband who also takes classes, two pre-teenagers, two dogs, a bird, and several cats. She has no time to keep her house clean. This also gives her the perfect excuse not to have friends. Marie was an unhappy child of older parents and left this environment to enter an abusive first marriage. She is physically beautiful but beauty is not the feature about her that you notice first. It is immediately apparent that she does not feel beautiful. In fact you have to look twice to realize that she is. Marie has substituted busy-ness for living and uses it as a wall to hide behind so she doesn't have to deal with people who can't be trusted not to hurt her.
Busy-ness is an addiction in the same class with being "sick," which is nature's legitimate copout. I can't do whatever (this includes housework) because I am too busy/sick.
Living in a "mess" is disruptive to the inner person so escape is sought. Acquisition of things, treadmill lifestyle, and supermom syndrome, are some examples of busy-ness which may be used to avoid reality (truth), the purpose of life. I don't have to face reality when I am "working," taking the kids to ballet lessons, football practice, watching TV, reading fiction (or non-fiction). I'm too busy. More and more craziness is crammed into less and less time until life becomes caught up in an endless, mindless, whirlwind with no aim, leaving in its wake exhaustion and a "stop the world so I can get off" feeling. Are you really choosing to be "busy" or are you re-acting to past rejection?
Another example of busy-ness is Marie, who fills every second of her time with a full-time career, graduate school classes, a husband who also takes classes, two pre-teenagers, two dogs, a bird, and several cats. She has no time to keep her house clean. This also gives her the perfect excuse not to have friends. Marie was an unhappy child of older parents and left this environment to enter an abusive first marriage. She is physically beautiful but beauty is not the feature about her that you notice first. It is immediately apparent that she does not feel beautiful. In fact you have to look twice to realize that she is. Marie has substituted busy-ness for living and uses it as a wall to hide behind so she doesn't have to deal with people who can't be trusted not to hurt her.
Busy-ness is an addiction in the same class with being "sick," which is nature's legitimate copout. I can't do whatever (this includes housework) because I am too busy/sick.
Living in a "mess" is disruptive to the inner person so escape is sought. Acquisition of things, treadmill lifestyle, and supermom syndrome, are some examples of busy-ness which may be used to avoid reality (truth), the purpose of life. I don't have to face reality when I am "working," taking the kids to ballet lessons, football practice, watching TV, reading fiction (or non-fiction). I'm too busy. More and more craziness is crammed into less and less time until life becomes caught up in an endless, mindless, whirlwind with no aim, leaving in its wake exhaustion and a "stop the world so I can get off" feeling. Are you really choosing to be "busy" or are you re-acting to past rejection?
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