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.
Showing posts with label Chapter 4. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chapter 4. Show all posts
Monday, November 15, 2010
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?
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