Social Aniety

SOCIAL ANXIETY

Today, like most mornings, after preparing breakfast, lunch, snacks and grabbing my liquid energy, I sat down to relax in my favorite comfy chair for an hour before joining the throngs of workers getting ready for yet another day at “the office.” First there’s Instagram: a family of 5 all smiling at the kale/beet snack mommy made, a friend strolling the streets of Croatia, another biking in sunflower fields. Then on to Facebook which has its own show of sailboat sunsets, swimmers in Caribbean waters and weddings, food, and… just about anything. Even “old school” texting and emailing is adding ways 

to send photos and clips.   

          

No doubt, social media plays a huge role in the lives of most people. What once was gossiping over the garden fence, to dialing up the princess phone, to texting has now elevated to an all out competitive session that can be cropped, edited and filtered so that even the sorriest-looking, mundane donut can be have the appearance of a French croissant being eaten at a street café

 in the middle of Venice, from your own back yard.

It is indeed a media-saturated age that has everyone desperate to be perceived in the eyes of the world as the cutest, wittiest or most energetic; trying to make anyone and everyone they can “green” with envy. But in reality, often, there is a stark contrast between:  what is truth and what is touched up. Let’s face it. Even the most confident among us feel a stab of jealousy (I wish that were me) and anxiety (am I doing something wrong?) at times scrolling through the lives of our “friends”. (A topic for another day…the drive for likes generated by the amount of people one can accrue to their account!) Mind you, all this is happening even though we all know, because we all do it, that posts are carefully and critically edited to create the incredibly perfect scenario. It’s hard to remind yourself that highly selected and filtered photos can be deceiving.  Mental health professionals call it the compare-and-despair factor.

Unfortunately, social media anxiety has risen to epidemic levels. Sure, we’ve all compared ourselves to our peers in the classroom and later on as adults, but not all of us felt the need to “keep up with the Joneses”. Today, sadly enough, the comparison is world-wide all via a touch of the screen; the “neighborhood” got bigger and the stakes larger. People begin to label themselves in a negative, unhealthy way that forces anyone using social media to constantly monitor the way they present themselves.  This is serious since it’s a fact that since social media, self-esteem has dropped in all age groups (Google: negative effect on self esteem and social media; you’ll be surprised).

Think about it. Although the world is constantly surrounded by/with instant interaction, people have never felt more alone (Google: social media and lonliness). Look around you at your next outing. What does everyone seem to be doing? Holding a mini computer to their faces. Times are sad when you see two people dressed up for dinner only to be engaged with their phones instead of each other. And this doesn’t even take into account the effect all this media is having on the next generation.

The truth of the matter is that we all crave attention. But instead of this constant one-up-manship, what people really need to recognize is that it is not an external existence that shows how smart/successful/accomplished – you fill in the blank- you are, but an inner feeling of contentedness. No amount of filter or cropping will cover our flaws; instead, we need to accept ourselves for who we are. How you feel about yourself and how you perceive yourself 

is directly related; heart and mind.

So. Where does one draw the line? What is a healthy balance (since we’ll not fool ourselves into thinking social media is leaving the internet any time soon)? First take a look at how long you stare/spend time looking at everyone else’s “perfect” life and recognize if you are obsessed with striving to look just as good if not better. Then honestly think about how this makes you feel: Happy? Or Depressed and Emotionally depleted. If this is you, it’s time to take a break. Perhaps limit your internet time. Do something else. Take a walk. Read a book. Invite a friend out for lunch (no phones at the table). Visit the library, the beach, a museum. Remember. The noise in your head can be louder than the noise on the street. Giving yourself a digital Sabbath each week –just one day living for 24 hours without checking devices – could be the solution to re-balancing 

(a reboot) ourselves;  Ahhh, a routine that allows space for breathing. 

Go ahead try it. I’ll see you on the towpath…Carpe diem!

Garden Gratification

GARDEN GRATIFICATION

Like many gardeners, I like to start planning (even if it’s just in my mind) my summer vegetable/flower gardens in the coolness of winter. Watching seedlings sprout somehow brings a sense of expectation; a hope that Spring and warmer weather is just around the bend. Yet, after the danger of frost, transplanting those seedlings is when the real work begins: digging, pruning, weeding, watering, and guarding against pests large and small; cultivating a garden is a lot of work.

For example, weeds. We don’t like ‘em. We don’t want ‘em. But they are always there. In fact, sometimes they grow taller, stronger and fiercer than the actual crop we want to reap. Being the controlling type, I’ve learned early on that you simply cannot control a garden; it controls you. If it rains for a week and the sun suddenly shines, you run to tend it. If little insects or chipmunks try to take possession, you lovingly screen it. If there is a drought, you’ll stand for hours with the water hose tangled around your ankles, no problem. A garden is a bit like having children; it forces you to reorganize your life. But, after a crazy, nerve-racking day at the office, nothing soothes the mind more than working the soil and breathing in the solitude. As a result, I’ve come to look at those weeds as survivors and as I pluck them from my garden, I envision the idea they are just trying to find their way into the world of horticulture. After all, with all that attention, who wouldn’t want to be in a small plot of Utopia?

When you garden, you leave behind all technology (Facebook! Email! Instagram!) and learn to converse with the simple pleasure of listening to bird song, feeling air movement and smelling outdoors fragrance. Yes, pandemonium and clatter are replaced with hushed, tranquil quietness. The garden becomes a small bit of area that only the care taker occupies; a selfish sense of space. Why do I say selfish? Because once you have found this, it is a pleasure you don’t readily share with others for fear everyone will want to do it and then it will be all commotion and hullabaloo. Yes, once discovered what contented peace a plot of growing vegetation can bring, even the glimpse of an aircraft disturbing airspace solitude can cause a frown of irritation.

Aside from ascetics and the consumption of produce, there is a deeper, more gratifying reason to wanting a green thumb. According to research, black hands can increase your serotonin levels; contact with soil and a specific soil bacteria, Mycobacterium vaccae, triggers the release of serotonin in our brain and we all know the lack of serotonin causes depression. Getting your hands dirty is emotional, physical and mental therapy! Not to mention sunlight (vitamin D) and fresh air (mood booster)!

The only problem is, once committed to a garden one does not easily retreat back to the noise of Life. I often have to be called several times into the house from my garden, begrudgingly, leaving all that isolated seclusion behind. Yet, it’s nice to I know I have a special place I can go to where the sights, the smells and the sounds bring relaxation and reduce stress.

So the next time you stop to uproot that obstinate weed, indulge it a gentle tug, you can’t blame it for wanting a piece of all those benefits.

The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn

 ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Finding Peace

Finding Peace with Yourself

I’ve been known to get stuck in my ways and buck at anything that diverts me from methodical routines and well devised plans. So when my ideas are upset, I often resort to figuring out just what went wrong. It is as if my organization, conceptions and preparations are being assaulted. My personal world tilts and skews; I take it very personally. As a result, I have also been known to over think things… on occasion.

I suppose part of ruminating comes from a deep sense of finiteness, which causes us to be overly logical about many things. For example, I am fixated on managing my time. Seldom will you see me just staring out a window (although I’ve been told such behavior can be very meditative); in my mind, there are so many books to read and schemes to figure out. I manage my time from dawn to dusk (and if I had it my druthers, it would also include dusk to dawn…who needs sleep?) with precision and exactness by using lists and post-its. Everything is categorized into mental groups; unrelated, immaterial and besides-the-point details do not qualify. As a result, on a subconscious level, I recognize I am asking myself, “What if I don’t get everything done that I’ve put on The List?” A continuous pressure then builds by the end of the day, causing me to implode. So much to do (!) and so little time to do it in!

Should I consider this a flaw in my genetic makeup or a product of learned behavior?  If I pick the former, I can blame all my ancestors before me, which gets me off the hook…after all then, I can’t help my behavior. If it is to be the later, I may have to learn all over again to CHILL OUT because the danger with this rigor is that I may come off as blunt, direct and obsessive (I prefer to think of it as Focused).

So if you’re like me, you’ll love the tabula rasa theory (a blank slate existing in its original state) that allows for some margin of error, or in this case, list reboot…after all, tomorrow is a new day, one that begins with no mistakes or lists in it and we can start over if we must. Ahhhh….a blank page that has been wiped clean. In fact, starting brand-new is often just the thing we need. Such thinking takes the pressure off and reminds us to remember: spontaneity can be freeing and refreshing. Yes, it’s permissible to change The Plan (of course, only if you have one to begin with); that way, the joy isn’t taken out of every moment. We then realize finishing The List (and who does that ever anyway?) doesn’t necessarily bring instant happiness. Besides, tabula rasa doesn’t mean forever blank…instead, it allows for a new day, new lists. That’s Life.

So after some more ruminating, I’ve come to realize that sometimes Life’s diversions, unsettling and painful for us methodical types, are often ways of redirecting us into other paths we would never voluntarily go on. Seize those opportunities!

“OBSTACLES ARE DETOURS IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION”

Eddie's Girl

I've posted this before, but it's worth repeating.
As I get older and the longer I'm married, the more I realize that each year is a gift.

I’m one of the fortunate ones. After 40 years of marriage, my pulse still quickens and my heart pumps harder when I’m with my husband, Eddie. It’s not hard, though, to love him. Everywhere I go, the women all love him and the men find him slightly silly and sappy.

I don’t know if it’s because he once cooked me a heart-shaped meatloaf for Valentine’s Day, or rented me a convertible for a day to drive to “no where”, or rowed me around the lake in Central Park on my birthday; he just knows how to make the special days memorable.

But when it comes down to it, it’s the everyday things that endear Ed most; drawing us closer as the years go by. Each morning starts with freshly ground, whole bean, prepared the night before, brewed coffee. And after we leave for our respective occupations, the occasional “I’m just thinking of you” call keeps us connected. These “ordinary” gestures are reminders of his daily thoughtfulness.

In addition, he is not ashamed to say he loves me; often. Or that I am beautiful; and I instantly feel so. He begins each day whispering in my ear a quiet, drowsy-eyed, “Good Morning” – good to begin a new day together - and ends each one with, “I hope I see you tomorrow” – because we both know, first hand, sometimes tomorrow never comes.

And even more often, Ed’s actions speak louder than his words. The way he looks at me, unexpectedly reaches for my hand, or softly pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. He can speak wordlessly to me from across a crowded room with just a wink. He has cried with me, sighed with me and prayed with me. He tickles, teases and spoils me. When life gets me down, he knows how to turn my up-side-down, in-side-out fears and emotions into calmness; always there with a listening ear and an understanding heart. In his arms I feel secure,
enclosed in warmth.

As a result, many a hug has cheered me and convinced me to go forward. It is because Ed has such a selfless attitude that he is able to bring out the best in me. And his kiss…..well, it’s bliss. For me, Ed is like a ray of sunshine and I like the flower that leans towards him. Naturally then, it a no wonder that the song, “You are my Sunshine” is a favorite of ours.

In this age of liberation for women, I like it when he holds the door for me or carries the groceries into the house. I consider him a gentleman when he pulls my chair out at a restaurant or offers his hand when stepping out of the car.
Chivalry isn’t dead with Ed.

Together, we tackle chores around the house. There are no “his” and “her” lists because we are a team. As a result, often, Ed washes the dishes while I tackle the bills, he bakes up batches of muffins and I hedge the bushes. Our lives revolve around each other. Although we have our separate interests, we always consider each other when making plans; it is a courtesy that has grown out of mutual respect.

Perhaps all this is possible because Ed is comfortable with himself. As a result, he freely shares his feelings and isn’t afraid to laugh at himself (and believe me when I say he takes his share of jabs). His humor and silly side keeps me laughing. We’re not just partners in a journey. We’re friends who share smirks and giggles. This side of our relationship allows us to continue our “courting” throughout life.

A few years back, Ed announced that Friday nights are official “date night”. Together we have had picnics in our bedroom, tea parties by the lake and stargazed in the grass. We compete in bowling, Monopoly and chess. We dine for two with only candlelight on the deck, combine pizza and a movie or just eat ice cream for dinner.

Since our children have grown up and gone their respective ways, I am often asked if I have experienced “empty nest syndrome”. And I always answer, with a smile, that I will never be an empty nester… because I’ll always have Ed.

It hasn’t always been this easy. Married at 18 and 23, most of our friends and family didn’t think we’d last. Labeling us as too young and immature, they were sure we would be a statistic in no time. But they underestimated our commitment to each other. Then we added four children to our home. Sneakers, sports and college tuition kept our funds just above our earnings. But we always remind each other that we are fortunate. We have love and health; everything else in life is a bonus. Early on, as a joke to keep us going, Ed would ask me, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” And I’d always answer, “Eddie’s girl.” It is our mantra and makes us smile.

Often throughout our marriage he has asked me to “marry” him because we couldn’t afford expensive rings and would joke that as a result, we weren’t “properly” married. Recently, after all this time, he came home, got down on one knee and “proposed” to me, presenting me with a beautiful diamond ring. He has a romantic side also.

However, the old cliché “Opposites attract” is true for us. Ed is a laid back, “whatever happens, happens” spontaneous kind of guy. His clothes lay where he takes them off, he reads several books at once, and his schedules don’t include looking at a watch. On the other hand, I am methodically driven, time obsessed and structured. Although we have had to learn the game of “give and take” over time, being with Ed is like being with the other half of myself. The side that needs to slow down and enjoy this beautiful life we have been blessed with.

That is why my favorite time of day is when we arrive home after work and share our day with each other. Whether we’re snuggling on a rainy day, catching the last rays of sunlight on our deck or walking around the block, talking with Ed helps me put things in perspective. Together, we often tackle and conquer the problems of our little world.

In fact, I’m convinced if there were more of Ed to spread around the world that it would be a better place. Often you can tell how kind a person is by the way they react to small children and animals. Ed is not above getting on the floor, making funny faces or blowing bubbles with the youngest child in the house. And the birds in “our neck of the woods” are ceremoniously fed. Ed keeps a watchful eye on the feeders and provides ample birdhouses for nesting; true signs of a compassionate individual.

Yes, our life together is a comfortable one. If I had the opportunity to exhort the young-to-be-wed, I would tell them they can also live a love story if they put “Communication”, “Respect”, and. “Commitment” on their priority list. With these three ingredients, love falls into place. Naturally.

I’m so grateful to share my life with this man who is so willing to give me such a big part of himself. And, of course, you know by now, that I will always want to be 

Eddie’s girl.

How old am I?

Wait? How Old Am I?

I don’t know when I started doing this, but lately I keep asking myself, “How old am I?” It’s not that I’m shy about letting people know my age, but instead that I’m having a hard time realizing that the number associated with my birth date is how old I’m supposed to feel.

I can remember a time when I looked at people in their 40’s and thought, “Wow! They’re old!” But yikes! Just the other day I found a hair on my chin. Now I’m not talking about a “new- chick-from-the-egg downy fuzz”. No, I’m talking about one long, spiky, fatal follicle.  Also, I’ve had to start wearing readers so I can decipher the size 3 font used on packaging (do you think eye wear companies pay to have tiny print put on products?).  And where did those wrinkles come from? Not all the wrinkle-reducing, age-defying cream in the world will help those fine lines. In addition, just when I think I’ve figured out how to muddle through my computer and smart phone it’s time to upgrade and figure it out all over again, causing my brain to overload.

But the final and last straw to all this are my (adult) children! They’ve started treating me differently; in an incredibly patronizing way. You shouldn’t do this; you might want to do that.  It’s not like I’m sunbathing in a bikini or taking a cross county motorcycle trip.

In fact, I’m not interested in spending my 50’s pretending I’m 30, but my very own offspring at times treat me as if I’ve crossed over into paranoia. OK. Maybe I am overly suspicious, excessively wary and unreasonably distrustful.  I mean, come on…doesn’t everyone lock their car in the garage? And even though I vowed I would never be that “old lady” who unapologetically blurts out whatever comes into her mind, without any filter, I might have to admit, I sometimes find myself helping others see the errors of their ways through my eyes.

Recently I went to a high school reunion. I stepped into the room, looked around and saw no one I knew. Surely, I was in the wrong room. But after confirming with the name-tag-door-greeter, I found out I was, indeed (!), in the right place – but everyone had changed; even though I had not!  How did this happen? Again, it made me ask, how old am I?

Maybe I’m looking at this all the wrong way. Perhaps I should realize getting older has its advantages. Hey! It took me all these years to finally feel confident in this skin, a bit bruised and battered but definitely braver and more determined.  I keep telling myself age breeds maturity and confidence. Over the years, I have learned that Life has a way of throwing curve balls and, as a result, I don’t always get everything right. I’ve started looking at mistakes as, well…opportunities. I’ve learned that as long as I am blessed with good health and have the love of my family, everything else in this life is a bonus.

I will never want Botox (I want to embrace those laugh lines), or dye my hair (gray is the new beautiful), and will continue mastering the art of being a lifelong learner (because pretending to know what it’s all about only gives you a deer-in-the-headlights look. Instead, if you find yourself in a situation where you have to forge forward without knowing, the trick is not being found out before you can get home to Google it).

So as long as health and memory hold out (and that is being debated even now amongst my posterity), I want the coming years to be more rewarding; more relaxing; more restful. The truth is…I don’t think I mind getting older after all and I think I’ll just forget my actual age number. Ahhhhhh…There’s a certain freedom to it. I can do anything I want.  I’m old.  

Ice cream for breakfast, anyone?

Resolving Resolutions

There are few things that fill me with exhaustion more than the dread of rushing through yet another holiday season…..so many holiday cards to address and send; gifts for everyone from your great-great-great niece to the fifth cousin removed from your sister-in-law’s mother. And that music!! Without coming off as Scrooge, the sound of jingling bells, merry chimes and HoHoHo’s need to come to a halt by the time January arrives.

The way I see it, the New Year is a way of taking a deep breath, slowing down and starting over.

If you noticed, I didn’t say anything about resolutions. In my book, resolutions are not a way of retarding the ever-increasing way most hustle and bustle through Life. Personally, I don’t need the additional pressure (or guilt) of coming up with yet another way I can become the perfect person. I think we’ve all lived long enough to know that a “one day promise” to change our life is not going to make us better or improved.  In fact, by the time the ball begins to fall and hits the ground, most of us have devised a way to get out of the little contract we’ve devised in our minds.

Sure, I know we’ve all resolved to eat better, exercise more and keep up to date with our emails, but these are everyday undertakings that we should be aware of for our own physical well-being and peace of mind; not as a chore that seems doomed before it has begun. But truly, if I am to be pressed about making New Year’s resolutions, then I say, instead of making them for myself, I’d like to throw out a few I wish others would make:

~ Be courteous. Leave hostile in the gutter where it belongs. We’re all in this journey of Life together. Let’s at least try to get along. Basic manners work here. Please. Thank You.

~ Put down the Phone when talking to others (better yet, leave it in your pocket).  Contrary to what you may think, no one is interested in any conversation you may be having and having a talking device attached to your ear does not make you important. Um, I think this goes along with being courteous.

~ Clean up after yourself. It never amazes me how sloppy and disrespectful people can be. One thrown piece of paper from a gum wrapper could add up to a whole community of waste blowing in the wind. We’re all grown up here and no one should have to pick up after us; did I mention courteous?

~ Hold the door open for a stranger. We can all use a little bit of help from time to time. Now, because your phone is in your pocket, you can extend a courteous act.

~ Smile. I know you’ve all heard how smiling uses less muscles than frowning or how just the act of smiling psychologically sends “feel good” neurotransmitters to the brain, but a smile is a gift you can give away for free. And they are contagious. So just think, because you are not on your phone 24/7 you can help someone with a gracious (which is synonymous with courteous), simple smile.

See how by one act, kindness grows; how one resolution really becomes five? And because I believe these acts should be every day, spontaneous knee-jerk reactions to others, I’ll also resolve to enforce them .

Carpe Diem!