Monday, March 28, 2011
Do You Have To Act Like Such An Animal?
Monday's Wash Line--- I have come to the realization that I frequently get very angry with my dogs for acting like dogs--which is kind of similar to getting very angry at a 2-year-old for acting their age--it is more stress than I need and a waste of energy. I quick-mopped my floor today and I let my dogs back in the house while I was on the phone--which prevented me from yelling at them but also caused me to just watch helplessly as one of my dogs tracked mud all over the very floor I had just cleaned. He was very excited so he ran ALL over. Why can't my dogs stop and wipe their paws before coming in the house. Don't they see the mat? It is such a waste of all those cute mats that say 'Wipe Your Paws' when I have yet to meet a dog that reads...I think it is safe to assume that my dogs don't stop and think about the difference between the ground and a kitchen floor. They're dogs. Not long after the floor incident I was once again getting angry at the same dog for standing too close to the open refrigerator and sniffing food I dropped while trying to look for something. He's a dog and he's a dog from a hunting breed that is always hungry. If I had it wired into my genes to hunt for food (well I think maybe I do) and ate the same food twice a day everyday and could only eat when someone fed me then I would probably be excited when someone opened the refrigerator too and I would most likely even look longingly if something appetizing fell at my feet. Well---I found myself so irritated that I told my dog to get out of my face---this is the dog that only chooses to respond to food, dinner, treat, and his name ---did I really expect him to listen? After all, he had 'found' some very good food--why should I be mad at him??? If only he could show a bit more restraint---but he's a dog. Later I spilled some cream of chicken soup on the floor (did I mention the floor was clean?) and my same trouble-making dog had the audacity to run right over and start licking up the spill--getting his toxic dog spit all over. Why couldn't he have waited for me to wipe it up and then politely ask if he could lick the can? Because...he's a dog---he saw an opportunity and he took it--besides, he sees no problem with having dog spit on the floor--there is dog spit in my other dog's dish and he thoroughly enjoys licking it--there is dog spit on the cushion he likes to sleep on and he finds it very comfy--and there is dog spit on him and he never worries about how he smells...he's a dog. I was talking with my oldest daughter about my dogs and how embarrassed I am about their behavior and she said that between the two dogs we almost have one good dog. That's true. My mess making, nosey dog is good with people and doesn't bite their heels in an attempt to herd them and he isn't neurotic. My other dog is neurotic and scares people but she doesn't chew up things when she gets bored or try to take food off of the table. Luckily for them they each have some redeeming qualities---which is why they both still have a place to rest their furry heads and leave their spit. I need to be so much better at training my dogs---as soon as I get better at training myself---and it's fine to have high expectations for them but I do need to remember that they are dogs and they are going to act like dogs. Sometimes I even like it when they act like dogs. After all, none of the human members of our household look so ecstatic whenever I come home or are willing to do several tricks for one small treat or cozy up to me when I tell them to get out of my face or are so patient or forgiving as my dogs are because well..they are only human...
Monday, March 21, 2011
Monday wash line---my hair seems to have become resistant to hairspray. I have tried a couple of different kinds of hairspray and they hold for a short time but I find myself needing to re-apply several times a day which is unusual for me. Perhaps this is another one of those changes that go along with growing older...or maybe my hair has just finally built up an immunity to hairspray. It is an interesting problem especially considering that usually these days I am more concerned about parts of me being too good at stiffly staying in place...Maybe companies that sell hairspray decided they could make more money if their product's effectiveness was shorter-lived.
Anyway...I have now had a week to get used to Daylight Savings Time and I am still disgruntled about losing an hour. My husband is convinced that congressmen just want more golfing time...what's funny about that is I recently learned that the concept of saving day-light is credited in part to an outdoorsman who did actually want more daylight in order to have more time to golf. I was wondering what would happen if some people got increasingly greedy and pretty soon we would set our clocks ahead not one but six hours. At least then teenagers could sleep almost until noon and still be up at sunrise. .. and people could have plenty of time to golf after work...so that probably won't happen...I just don't take kindly to people messing with time (unless it is for time travel but everyone knows you need to be really careful with that) and I especially don't like losing an hour of sleep! I have always been a bit obsessive/perplexed/frustrated/fascinated about the passage of time.
A bit obsessive---I am a clock watcher. I think that is one reason why I do not wear a watch (that and the fact that I forget to wear one---it is one more thing to leave lying around) because I would probably spend too much time looking at it and I would rather guess-timate what time it is. I wake up several times during the night to look at the clock (notice I do not call it my clock) on my nightstand. I started doing this as soon as I reached an age where I needed to get up at a certain time each day. This can get a bit annoying and tiring to the point of sometimes covering the clock so it won't sit there daring me to look but I do find delicious comfort in waking up and looking at the clock to discover that I still have several hours left to sleep before I need to get out of bed. I never just look at the time when I wake up during the night---I automatically start doing a countdown of slumber time remaining. I do something similar on vacations... I begin from day 1 to figure how much time I have left on vacation---I have 5 nights and 4 days left---3 days left---1 day left---4 hours left until the vacation clock stops...I do this no matter what the length of the vacation. It is kind of like the opposite of watching the clock during the last hour of the school day or work day and counting down the minutes remaining. At least I know I am not the only person who does that.
My parents were both very punctual people. My father was in the army so being on time was essential for him. It was a matter of respect. When I was growing up our family was usually first to arrive at most functions. My parents thought if we weren't 5 minutes early then we might as well be late. I grew up being seriously concerned that the world would come to an end if I were late. I still frequently have nightmares about being late for important appointments. This would probably come as a surprise to several people because I am very often running late. You see when I married the man I love he helped me realize that the world doesn't come to an end if you're a few minutes late. That is a good thing but I became a little too relaxed by this new revelation. I think I am naturally a person who enjoys taking my time---who balks at the constraints of time---I am proof that punctuality is not genetic. My mother would always recite to me the old adage 'Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today' and I was quick to revise that, much to my mother's dismay, to 'Don't do today what you can put off until tomorrow'.
A bit perplexed and frustrated--- It seems odd that a clock-watcher like myself could be often running late or that someone with such an acute awareness of the passage of time could be a procrastinator...I seem to be always struggling for control when it comes to time. Time management can be quite the conundrum...you see in order to control time you need to allow yourself to be controlled by time...I get frustrated feeling like I do not have enough time and I watch the clock and fool myself into thinking I can somehow manipulate time in my favor. It's like leaving yourself 20 minutes to make a drive that you know takes at least 25 minutes on a good day or fooling yourself into thinking that you have plenty of time to do that important something you know you should do ---that you have an endless supply of some days---when deep down you can feel a clock ticking because it is a fact that each of us has a time limit on this earth. Maybe punctual achievers respect time and procrastinators fear time...I don't know...I will give this further thought--- tomorrow.
A bit fascinated--- I remember when I was very young I saw a movie called King's Row and I was positively intrigued by how a 2 hour movie could cover a life time. I was so fascinated by the passage of time and how the characters aged. I have always been equally captivated and frustrated by stories that play with time---recently I got sort of addicted to netflix streaming of the show 24 that spread twenty-four hours in one day into twenty-four episodes spanning several months. It was an innovative concept but it was too violent and it would raise my blood pressure to unhealthy levels(probably because it had a running clock in the corner).
I find it interesting how many analogies can be drawn between time and money. Actually a phrase is often used in the working world---'time is money' that defines time as valuable. We can make, save, spend, waste, and invest time. I can picture each of us being given a sack filled with time---golden dust---sands of time---at the beginning of our earthly journey and we are told to use that sack of gold dust wisely on our journey. Some of us decide we want to save our sack of golden time until we get where we are going and we are so focused on reaching success that we fail to notice that there is a small hole in the bottom of our sack and as we move along in our journey the precious time gradually runs out. At some point---for most of us closer to the end of our journey---we realize what is happening. Some people try to move faster before the bag is empty. Others move more slowly thinking that will prevent the gold from running out so quickly. Some panic and stop in the middle of the road trying to fix a hole that can't be fixed. Some plod along murmuring that others seem to have fuller sacks. The smart ones press forward finding good things to do with the gold that they have and with gratitude for how far they have come---similar to the parable of the talents.
Frequently the words to a hymn pass hauntingly through my mind. It is called Improve the Shining Moments. Time flies on wings of lightning; We cannot call it back. It comes, then passes forward Along its onward track. and if we are not mindful, the chance will fade away, for life is quick in passing. 'Tis as a single day. Sobering...
As I have been contemplating the fascinating topic of time I have thought of another song---Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce, who interestingly enough left this existence after quite a short period of time. Think of having bottles of time next to bottles of peaches and salsa (cans in my case) in your storage room. Who wouldn't feel secure having shelves of bottled time with labels like---Time to visit with old friends--Time to cradle sleeping children--Time to learn new things--Time to ponder life--Time to sit in the shade--Time to read a good book--Time to make gourmet meals--Time to do your nails--Time to smell the roses--Time to appreciate good people in your life--Time to express heartfelt love--Time to travel--Time to clean the top of the refrigerator...What would your labels read?
I remember hearing a talk about time management and the speaker said that each of us is given 24 hours in a day and that when we say we didn't have time to do something it would be more honest to say we didn't 'make' time. We can all make time---we have the recipe with our individual adaptations---but sometimes we spend too much time looking for it.
I guess it is better to try to keep time on our side than to race against it and that it is foolish to look forward to having the time of our lives when we are having the time of our lives. Well, I had better go because the clock in the corner of my computer is really making me nervous...today I think I will time how long my hairspray lasts---it could be useful information...
Anyway...I have now had a week to get used to Daylight Savings Time and I am still disgruntled about losing an hour. My husband is convinced that congressmen just want more golfing time...what's funny about that is I recently learned that the concept of saving day-light is credited in part to an outdoorsman who did actually want more daylight in order to have more time to golf. I was wondering what would happen if some people got increasingly greedy and pretty soon we would set our clocks ahead not one but six hours. At least then teenagers could sleep almost until noon and still be up at sunrise. .. and people could have plenty of time to golf after work...so that probably won't happen...I just don't take kindly to people messing with time (unless it is for time travel but everyone knows you need to be really careful with that) and I especially don't like losing an hour of sleep! I have always been a bit obsessive/perplexed/frustrated/fascinated about the passage of time.
A bit obsessive---I am a clock watcher. I think that is one reason why I do not wear a watch (that and the fact that I forget to wear one---it is one more thing to leave lying around) because I would probably spend too much time looking at it and I would rather guess-timate what time it is. I wake up several times during the night to look at the clock (notice I do not call it my clock) on my nightstand. I started doing this as soon as I reached an age where I needed to get up at a certain time each day. This can get a bit annoying and tiring to the point of sometimes covering the clock so it won't sit there daring me to look but I do find delicious comfort in waking up and looking at the clock to discover that I still have several hours left to sleep before I need to get out of bed. I never just look at the time when I wake up during the night---I automatically start doing a countdown of slumber time remaining. I do something similar on vacations... I begin from day 1 to figure how much time I have left on vacation---I have 5 nights and 4 days left---3 days left---1 day left---4 hours left until the vacation clock stops...I do this no matter what the length of the vacation. It is kind of like the opposite of watching the clock during the last hour of the school day or work day and counting down the minutes remaining. At least I know I am not the only person who does that.
My parents were both very punctual people. My father was in the army so being on time was essential for him. It was a matter of respect. When I was growing up our family was usually first to arrive at most functions. My parents thought if we weren't 5 minutes early then we might as well be late. I grew up being seriously concerned that the world would come to an end if I were late. I still frequently have nightmares about being late for important appointments. This would probably come as a surprise to several people because I am very often running late. You see when I married the man I love he helped me realize that the world doesn't come to an end if you're a few minutes late. That is a good thing but I became a little too relaxed by this new revelation. I think I am naturally a person who enjoys taking my time---who balks at the constraints of time---I am proof that punctuality is not genetic. My mother would always recite to me the old adage 'Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today' and I was quick to revise that, much to my mother's dismay, to 'Don't do today what you can put off until tomorrow'.
A bit perplexed and frustrated--- It seems odd that a clock-watcher like myself could be often running late or that someone with such an acute awareness of the passage of time could be a procrastinator...I seem to be always struggling for control when it comes to time. Time management can be quite the conundrum...you see in order to control time you need to allow yourself to be controlled by time...I get frustrated feeling like I do not have enough time and I watch the clock and fool myself into thinking I can somehow manipulate time in my favor. It's like leaving yourself 20 minutes to make a drive that you know takes at least 25 minutes on a good day or fooling yourself into thinking that you have plenty of time to do that important something you know you should do ---that you have an endless supply of some days---when deep down you can feel a clock ticking because it is a fact that each of us has a time limit on this earth. Maybe punctual achievers respect time and procrastinators fear time...I don't know...I will give this further thought--- tomorrow.
A bit fascinated--- I remember when I was very young I saw a movie called King's Row and I was positively intrigued by how a 2 hour movie could cover a life time. I was so fascinated by the passage of time and how the characters aged. I have always been equally captivated and frustrated by stories that play with time---recently I got sort of addicted to netflix streaming of the show 24 that spread twenty-four hours in one day into twenty-four episodes spanning several months. It was an innovative concept but it was too violent and it would raise my blood pressure to unhealthy levels(probably because it had a running clock in the corner).
I find it interesting how many analogies can be drawn between time and money. Actually a phrase is often used in the working world---'time is money' that defines time as valuable. We can make, save, spend, waste, and invest time. I can picture each of us being given a sack filled with time---golden dust---sands of time---at the beginning of our earthly journey and we are told to use that sack of gold dust wisely on our journey. Some of us decide we want to save our sack of golden time until we get where we are going and we are so focused on reaching success that we fail to notice that there is a small hole in the bottom of our sack and as we move along in our journey the precious time gradually runs out. At some point---for most of us closer to the end of our journey---we realize what is happening. Some people try to move faster before the bag is empty. Others move more slowly thinking that will prevent the gold from running out so quickly. Some panic and stop in the middle of the road trying to fix a hole that can't be fixed. Some plod along murmuring that others seem to have fuller sacks. The smart ones press forward finding good things to do with the gold that they have and with gratitude for how far they have come---similar to the parable of the talents.
Frequently the words to a hymn pass hauntingly through my mind. It is called Improve the Shining Moments. Time flies on wings of lightning; We cannot call it back. It comes, then passes forward Along its onward track. and if we are not mindful, the chance will fade away, for life is quick in passing. 'Tis as a single day. Sobering...
As I have been contemplating the fascinating topic of time I have thought of another song---Time in a Bottle by Jim Croce, who interestingly enough left this existence after quite a short period of time. Think of having bottles of time next to bottles of peaches and salsa (cans in my case) in your storage room. Who wouldn't feel secure having shelves of bottled time with labels like---Time to visit with old friends--Time to cradle sleeping children--Time to learn new things--Time to ponder life--Time to sit in the shade--Time to read a good book--Time to make gourmet meals--Time to do your nails--Time to smell the roses--Time to appreciate good people in your life--Time to express heartfelt love--Time to travel--Time to clean the top of the refrigerator...What would your labels read?
I remember hearing a talk about time management and the speaker said that each of us is given 24 hours in a day and that when we say we didn't have time to do something it would be more honest to say we didn't 'make' time. We can all make time---we have the recipe with our individual adaptations---but sometimes we spend too much time looking for it.
I guess it is better to try to keep time on our side than to race against it and that it is foolish to look forward to having the time of our lives when we are having the time of our lives. Well, I had better go because the clock in the corner of my computer is really making me nervous...today I think I will time how long my hairspray lasts---it could be useful information...
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
My Friend Denise
Yesterday morning while I was exercising with my friend Denise (Denise Austin--maybe you've heard of her) I had a few thoughts get their aerobic exercise running through my mind...
First, isn't it utterly amazing how our brains can be deep in thought and still control our bodies? I was thinking about something--okay I was worrying--and nothing distracts me from that--and suddenly I realized that I continued doing my exercise routine even though my mind was focused elsewhere---it was like my brain had put my body on auto-pilot. This same type of situation frequently happens while driving. I will be pondering some deep subject (like whether to have rice or pasta with dinner or what color of lipstick makes me look thinner...) and my body will keep driving--my foot will push on the accelerator and my hands will steer. The only problem is that while I am in this auto-pilot zone I will just keep going and going right past my destination. I have spent a good amount of time and gas turning around---I like to think of it as 'taking impromptu scenic tours'. Equally amazing is how we can participate in conversations while our minds are roaming far away from the topic at hand. All of this tells me that our brains are fascinating mechanisms that could only have been designed by God, that there are times when multi-tasking is potentially dangerous, and that I need to keep my mind on a shorter leash...
Another thought was how many people come in and out of our lives, some of them playing important roles, who we really don't know much about . My original OB GYN helped bring three out of four of our children into the world and helped me with various female afflictions for a period (appropriate word choice I guess) of over twenty years and I knew a little about him but not much really for knowing him so --well---intimately-- for so long...And what about the people who we only come in contact with for a brief time but who have an impact on our lives---like doctors who perform surgeries on us or who put us to sleep for those surgeries---I usually get no more info on them than their name or perhaps where they got their medical degree. I never know their favorite color or what they like on their pizza--and I put my life in their hands for a time. Then there are the strangers with whom we exchange a few words of kindness or understanding while waiting in line somewhere. They might make us laugh or teach us something new ---depending on how long the line is we might find out how many kids they have or where they live but we often part ways without exchanging names. Most of the time we don't really need or want a lot of information about people who only drop in and out of our lives and yet sometimes we realize we feel like we're missing something--or that we have come close to having something...
And then...there are all of the people who impact our lives and we never meet them face to face. Think of all the writers, artists, musicians, athletes who touch us in some way--who affect our reality---so--change it really...people who don't know of our existence. Some people who affect our lives do so by bringing fictional characters to life for an hour each week or for the time it takes a movie to play...My favorite aunt and uncle took care of my aunt's mother in her final years and she loved the show Bonanza. Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe were like family to her. My dad near the end of his life would have a hard time distinguishing between television and reality. The two would sort of blurr together (which I'm sure was a bit scary since his favorite shows were crime shows). I remember when I was young (no I am not going to confess to still doing this...) I would write myself into my favorite shows. I am sure there are lots of people who are 'on' American Idol if only while performing in front of their bathroom mirrors...All of this tells me that we need to be very careful who we associate with---this of course applies to real live people and characters who are real to us.
This all brings me back to my friend Denise Austin. She has had the difficult task of being my personal trainer for almost 30 years now. She and I are about the same age and together we have battled post-baby bulge (she has fared much better than I have) in the past and she is currently helping me wage war against all of the middle age that has settled around my middle. Denise always keeps up with the latest in Lycra/spandex fashion and her hair and make up have changed appropriately with the times. Frequently she gets a little mixed up in her directions (hey. I am doing well if I can exercise and think deep thoughts let alone do that and smile continuously and chat without ever getting out of breath) and sometimes her delivery borders on cheesy (she has unknowingly provided entertainment in the past for my kids who burst into fits of giggling watching her) I must confess that there have been several times when I have grumbled when she perkily asks, 'Doesn't that feel good?' and I have learned that she has many 'favorite' workouts and all of them cause pain---But I can't help but smile when she tells me to keep going I'm 'burning butter' and I will push through pain because I really believe I will someday obtain 'a great rear view' or 'rock hard abs'. Denise's energetic approach is contagious and she really knows her stuff. Our friendship has lasted through VHS and DVD and we have gone from fat-burning aerobics to body toning 'hit the spot' workouts to indoor walking to whole body workouts to yoga. So many shared experiences...I was thinking it might be nice to have her over for lunch---she would probably make me eat something healthy--maybe we will just continue to be exercising 'friends'.
Our minds and our bodies are indeed precious gifts... more precious than we usually take time to contemplate...
Does letting my mind wander while I exercise count as an out of body experience?
First, isn't it utterly amazing how our brains can be deep in thought and still control our bodies? I was thinking about something--okay I was worrying--and nothing distracts me from that--and suddenly I realized that I continued doing my exercise routine even though my mind was focused elsewhere---it was like my brain had put my body on auto-pilot. This same type of situation frequently happens while driving. I will be pondering some deep subject (like whether to have rice or pasta with dinner or what color of lipstick makes me look thinner...) and my body will keep driving--my foot will push on the accelerator and my hands will steer. The only problem is that while I am in this auto-pilot zone I will just keep going and going right past my destination. I have spent a good amount of time and gas turning around---I like to think of it as 'taking impromptu scenic tours'. Equally amazing is how we can participate in conversations while our minds are roaming far away from the topic at hand. All of this tells me that our brains are fascinating mechanisms that could only have been designed by God, that there are times when multi-tasking is potentially dangerous, and that I need to keep my mind on a shorter leash...
Another thought was how many people come in and out of our lives, some of them playing important roles, who we really don't know much about . My original OB GYN helped bring three out of four of our children into the world and helped me with various female afflictions for a period (appropriate word choice I guess) of over twenty years and I knew a little about him but not much really for knowing him so --well---intimately-- for so long...And what about the people who we only come in contact with for a brief time but who have an impact on our lives---like doctors who perform surgeries on us or who put us to sleep for those surgeries---I usually get no more info on them than their name or perhaps where they got their medical degree. I never know their favorite color or what they like on their pizza--and I put my life in their hands for a time. Then there are the strangers with whom we exchange a few words of kindness or understanding while waiting in line somewhere. They might make us laugh or teach us something new ---depending on how long the line is we might find out how many kids they have or where they live but we often part ways without exchanging names. Most of the time we don't really need or want a lot of information about people who only drop in and out of our lives and yet sometimes we realize we feel like we're missing something--or that we have come close to having something...
And then...there are all of the people who impact our lives and we never meet them face to face. Think of all the writers, artists, musicians, athletes who touch us in some way--who affect our reality---so--change it really...people who don't know of our existence. Some people who affect our lives do so by bringing fictional characters to life for an hour each week or for the time it takes a movie to play...My favorite aunt and uncle took care of my aunt's mother in her final years and she loved the show Bonanza. Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Little Joe were like family to her. My dad near the end of his life would have a hard time distinguishing between television and reality. The two would sort of blurr together (which I'm sure was a bit scary since his favorite shows were crime shows). I remember when I was young (no I am not going to confess to still doing this...) I would write myself into my favorite shows. I am sure there are lots of people who are 'on' American Idol if only while performing in front of their bathroom mirrors...All of this tells me that we need to be very careful who we associate with---this of course applies to real live people and characters who are real to us.
This all brings me back to my friend Denise Austin. She has had the difficult task of being my personal trainer for almost 30 years now. She and I are about the same age and together we have battled post-baby bulge (she has fared much better than I have) in the past and she is currently helping me wage war against all of the middle age that has settled around my middle. Denise always keeps up with the latest in Lycra/spandex fashion and her hair and make up have changed appropriately with the times. Frequently she gets a little mixed up in her directions (hey. I am doing well if I can exercise and think deep thoughts let alone do that and smile continuously and chat without ever getting out of breath) and sometimes her delivery borders on cheesy (she has unknowingly provided entertainment in the past for my kids who burst into fits of giggling watching her) I must confess that there have been several times when I have grumbled when she perkily asks, 'Doesn't that feel good?' and I have learned that she has many 'favorite' workouts and all of them cause pain---But I can't help but smile when she tells me to keep going I'm 'burning butter' and I will push through pain because I really believe I will someday obtain 'a great rear view' or 'rock hard abs'. Denise's energetic approach is contagious and she really knows her stuff. Our friendship has lasted through VHS and DVD and we have gone from fat-burning aerobics to body toning 'hit the spot' workouts to indoor walking to whole body workouts to yoga. So many shared experiences...I was thinking it might be nice to have her over for lunch---she would probably make me eat something healthy--maybe we will just continue to be exercising 'friends'.
Our minds and our bodies are indeed precious gifts... more precious than we usually take time to contemplate...
Does letting my mind wander while I exercise count as an out of body experience?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Twinges Tugs and Yanks
Each time my college age daughter comes home for a visit I find that I have a bit of a hard time telling her goodbye. I feel little wistful twinges in my heart when she leaves. She has been 'out of the house' now for almost 2 years so the little twinges are not unfamiliar.
When a baby moves out of its mother and into the world the cutting of the umbilical cord physically separates mother and baby but never are the two spiritually or emotionally separated. Around that same moment of physical separation an unseen cord takes over and whereas the purpose of the umbilical cord is to pass nourishment from mother to child, this unseen cord or bond carries nourishment between the souls of mother and child. Through this bond the child is fed protection, encouragement, experience, and love through the efforts of the mother and the mother is fed wonder, joy, fulfillment and hope through the successes small and large of the child. The absence of either mother or child leaves a lingering hunger and yearning...
Twinges and also tugs and even yanks are not unknown to mothers or to mothers' hearts. A mother's heart experiences an excited twinge of anticipation when she first learns she is to be a mother--followed by a tug of awe at the incredible sensation of the very first tiny flutterings of life stirring within her. Her heart is then all but yanked with joy when her baby is first placed in her arms. From that moment on a mother and her heart are pulled in so many directions...her skirts and pant legs are tugged on, she is pulled toward something exciting to see or in the direction of something desired and at some point even yanked quickly in an opposite direction to avoid running into the latest object of her child's affection.
A mother is well acquainted with having her heart strings tugged---out of curiosity I did a little research on the origins of that phrase. It seems that long ago those in the medical profession believed that the heart was held in place by nerves and tendons---heart strings---so tugging on heart strings jostles the heart or affects our deepest emotions. Personally, I picture heart strings attached to the heart so tugging and pulling on them can cause strain, discomfort or even pain. Some gentle tugging of the heart is similar to those little hands tugging on our pant leg to get our much needed attention..it is pleasant---not all tugging on the heart strings is painful but I believe all tugging on heart strings has a softening effect on the heart...
Each one of my children has caused tugging on my heart strings several times...
I remember when my oldest daughter was a toddler if she saw me crying she would run and get me a tissue. She was concerned about me and was offering help in the best way she knew--that pleased my heart with gentle twinges of gratitude for her young and tender caring. This daughter is now married and is a tender-hearted mother with two little ones tugging at her heart and of course that tugs wistfully at mine just watching her life unfold...
I remember watching my son when he was just a little boy try to stay up on roller skates. He would fall again and again but he kept getting back up and my heart was tugged with admiration for his persistence and then when he was older we were at the same skating rink and he was determined to join in the event of jumping off a ramp in his roller blades. I remember holding my breath and saying several quick prayers as he skated forward picking up the necessary speed before the jump. I wanted so much for him to succeed. He jumped and landed respectably on his feet and my heart was tugged hard with relief and pride in his success.
I remember standing by helplessly as my second daughter had her heart broken by a somewhat oblivious young man who hadn't realized the many costs to my daughter of allowing her to entrust him with her heart. (handing him the strings so to speak) and my heart was tugged to the point of anguish by her disappointment and sorrow. But just the other day she happily announced that she had flirted with a boy---her heart is starting to rally---and enjoyed it and my heart felt joyful little twinges on her behalf.
During one of life's many periods of adjustment my youngest daughter felt like she didn't have any friends. She felt lonely and undesirable. My heart was tugged until it ached for her loneliness...then the sun came out and there was a time when she had two dates in one weekend and my heart felt youthful twinges of her joy.
Sometimes as a mother I feel as if my heart has been pulled and twinged and tugged out of shape and even out of place. Sometimes I feel like my heart has been yanked so hard that it has suffered irreparable damage. At the same time we are fed and nourished by our children's triumphs and joys we are pained by their stumblings and sorrows. Our hearts are continually being worked over---pulled like taffy into hopefully something soft and yielding and sweet and pliable.
You know when you drop something between the washer and dryer or between cabinets or something falls behind your dresser and you reach as far as you can---straining to grasp what was lost---reaching until it's painful and you feel like you just can't stretch any farther? That is what it feels like when our children move away from us---whether it is walking by themselves for the first time without holding our hand, driving down the road without us in the car, finding someone besides us to love and to need, turning away from us because they want to do things their way, or going off to college---it tugs and yanks and tears at the very core of our being just trying to grasp what once was ours to protect and guide and what will always be connected...
I would like my daughter to understand that when she comes home from college the heart strings are relaxed and that just starts feeling really nice when once again it is time for her to go and I feel the beginning of a tug...
When a baby moves out of its mother and into the world the cutting of the umbilical cord physically separates mother and baby but never are the two spiritually or emotionally separated. Around that same moment of physical separation an unseen cord takes over and whereas the purpose of the umbilical cord is to pass nourishment from mother to child, this unseen cord or bond carries nourishment between the souls of mother and child. Through this bond the child is fed protection, encouragement, experience, and love through the efforts of the mother and the mother is fed wonder, joy, fulfillment and hope through the successes small and large of the child. The absence of either mother or child leaves a lingering hunger and yearning...
Twinges and also tugs and even yanks are not unknown to mothers or to mothers' hearts. A mother's heart experiences an excited twinge of anticipation when she first learns she is to be a mother--followed by a tug of awe at the incredible sensation of the very first tiny flutterings of life stirring within her. Her heart is then all but yanked with joy when her baby is first placed in her arms. From that moment on a mother and her heart are pulled in so many directions...her skirts and pant legs are tugged on, she is pulled toward something exciting to see or in the direction of something desired and at some point even yanked quickly in an opposite direction to avoid running into the latest object of her child's affection.
A mother is well acquainted with having her heart strings tugged---out of curiosity I did a little research on the origins of that phrase. It seems that long ago those in the medical profession believed that the heart was held in place by nerves and tendons---heart strings---so tugging on heart strings jostles the heart or affects our deepest emotions. Personally, I picture heart strings attached to the heart so tugging and pulling on them can cause strain, discomfort or even pain. Some gentle tugging of the heart is similar to those little hands tugging on our pant leg to get our much needed attention..it is pleasant---not all tugging on the heart strings is painful but I believe all tugging on heart strings has a softening effect on the heart...
Each one of my children has caused tugging on my heart strings several times...
I remember when my oldest daughter was a toddler if she saw me crying she would run and get me a tissue. She was concerned about me and was offering help in the best way she knew--that pleased my heart with gentle twinges of gratitude for her young and tender caring. This daughter is now married and is a tender-hearted mother with two little ones tugging at her heart and of course that tugs wistfully at mine just watching her life unfold...
I remember watching my son when he was just a little boy try to stay up on roller skates. He would fall again and again but he kept getting back up and my heart was tugged with admiration for his persistence and then when he was older we were at the same skating rink and he was determined to join in the event of jumping off a ramp in his roller blades. I remember holding my breath and saying several quick prayers as he skated forward picking up the necessary speed before the jump. I wanted so much for him to succeed. He jumped and landed respectably on his feet and my heart was tugged hard with relief and pride in his success.
I remember standing by helplessly as my second daughter had her heart broken by a somewhat oblivious young man who hadn't realized the many costs to my daughter of allowing her to entrust him with her heart. (handing him the strings so to speak) and my heart was tugged to the point of anguish by her disappointment and sorrow. But just the other day she happily announced that she had flirted with a boy---her heart is starting to rally---and enjoyed it and my heart felt joyful little twinges on her behalf.
During one of life's many periods of adjustment my youngest daughter felt like she didn't have any friends. She felt lonely and undesirable. My heart was tugged until it ached for her loneliness...then the sun came out and there was a time when she had two dates in one weekend and my heart felt youthful twinges of her joy.
Sometimes as a mother I feel as if my heart has been pulled and twinged and tugged out of shape and even out of place. Sometimes I feel like my heart has been yanked so hard that it has suffered irreparable damage. At the same time we are fed and nourished by our children's triumphs and joys we are pained by their stumblings and sorrows. Our hearts are continually being worked over---pulled like taffy into hopefully something soft and yielding and sweet and pliable.
You know when you drop something between the washer and dryer or between cabinets or something falls behind your dresser and you reach as far as you can---straining to grasp what was lost---reaching until it's painful and you feel like you just can't stretch any farther? That is what it feels like when our children move away from us---whether it is walking by themselves for the first time without holding our hand, driving down the road without us in the car, finding someone besides us to love and to need, turning away from us because they want to do things their way, or going off to college---it tugs and yanks and tears at the very core of our being just trying to grasp what once was ours to protect and guide and what will always be connected...
I would like my daughter to understand that when she comes home from college the heart strings are relaxed and that just starts feeling really nice when once again it is time for her to go and I feel the beginning of a tug...
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