Pay it Forward Time Card Cash In #1

So it happened. Somebody actually cashed in the Pay It Forward Time Card. Now the person who cashed it in was a natural to be the first one to do so, since she persists in being first in line at everything she does.
So when I got the order (not a request, an order, like at the drive up window) ......... I didn't have a good excuse to not show up. So my obligatory nature forced me to say, "yes, I will be there because you have the card." Besides, I actually do like the person and don't mind hanging out with her. (Had to make that clear in case she reads this. Although she probably won't ever get around to it because she is too busy being first in line.)

Then I found out what we were going to do. It's probably a good thing I didn't know what my card holding friend was going to ask of me before I agreed to show up, because large crowded rooms of people are not my forte. Large groups contain a huge proportion of extroverts (including my friend) who are energized by social activity while we introverts lurk about the edge of the room with uneasy smiles and eyebrows that say, "I'm uncomfortable, and I can't wait to leave." She had the time card and I made a promise.

Since we decided to meet for dinner prior to the meeting, I made sure to arrive amply early so I could get a glass of liquid social skills (aka LSS)  before I had to go hang with strangers. She brought two other very nice ladies along, which was great because once I had known them for an hour and an LSS, they weren't strangers anymore. It's amazing how the LSS works for me.

So off we go to this meeting and it was incredible. And NO, it was not a cult. Just some good motivational talk. My LSS held up just enough to get me through and I didn't have to talk to that many people directly anyway. Just lots of hand shakes and it's nice to meet you's. Thankfully nobody had time to ask me stupid questions like, " what do you do?" to which I always reply, "When? " What I do really does depend on what day it is and what time of day it is.

Now the interesting thing about this cash in (so far the only cash in) is that my friend didn't use the card exactly as it was meant be used. (I don't why I would be surprised by this, since she has a rep of always going the unusual route.)  I was supposed to help her do something, and I'm pretty sure that me and my LSS weren't all that helpful to anyone there. In this case, the person holding the card was more interested in investing something in me, and alas, the table was turned. She wanted me to know that things could be better and that she was willing to step up and be part of it. The relationship changed from a "How can I help you?" relationship to a "I'm here to support you!" relationship in both directions.

So that's the first story of the Time Card. If the others bear this much fruit, my 2015 can only be fantastic. Which would be awesome, because frankly, I think I am due for a good year.

Hope and peace! lw .

That Puffy Chair

Most of us have a favorite chair. My favorite puffy recliner is at my acupuncture place. I try to schedule my appointments so that my favorite chair will be available. I get annoyed when someone else is in the chair. I get over it but I can't help wishing that person would just leave.  It's the softest chair in the place, and it fits me perfectly. Not to wide and just wide enough for my fat butt to feel uncrowded. I look forward to that chair every time I go. It allows me to forget my lot for a moment and just take in a little air.

If I get to the chair first, the chair's value doesn't change just because I got there the fastest. If I mark it as mine and guard it from everyone else, the chair is not affected but I lose the opportunity to share something I value. If I abuse the chair, the chair is damaged and I lose the opportunity to enjoy it again later. 

If I take a deep breath and fall into the chair, letting it's puffy softness welcome me in a giant puffy hug while I exhale my troubles into the air, I get best the chair has to offer. It comforts me and offers me a place to relax my soul and just be.

There are puffy chairs all around: friends you love, activities that build you up, places where your soul is refreshed. Get the best these times and places have to offer. The comfort and joy will come when you relax with them like the favorite puffy chair. 

Peace! lw. 

If Holiday Ads Were Real

Alas, those holiday commercials are in full swing. They start earlier every year. This year I noticed some before Halloween. The commercials tell us that we will be happier when we are buying stuff, giving stuff, eating lots of food, and returning stuff that we didn't need or want anyway. Somehow they are convincing us with  pictures of happy children singing perky carols that it's OK to accumulate more stuff.

What if holiday commercials depicted reality?

What if the grocery store's commercial showed the lovely holiday dinner surrounded by a family of snarky half drunk adults, ill mannered children, and texting teens wearing headphones?

What if the credit card company's ads could show kids opening presents Christmas morning while stressed out parents drank really strong coffee and then,  follow it with Dad opening the bill in January and falling over with a heart attack?

Reality.......it's not that great!

lw

Paying it Forward with Time Shares

Holiday gift giving drives me crazy! I hate shopping, writing cards,  traffic, wrapping, and worst of all I hate trying to figure out what to give this friend or that relative, etc. I hate it. It's sucks my time away from me and at the end of the holidays I just feel tired, financially drained, and like it wasn't worth it. Most of us have too much stuff anyway and I hate the idea of contributing more stuff to an already over stuffed world. 

This year, after a great deal of contemplation, I think I have come up with the perfect and certainly most creative holiday gift. Rather than spend my time shopping, driving, wrapping, blah, blah, blah, why don't I just give the time to people in my  life who make living better than bearable. After all, time is my most valued commodity why not pay it forward putting a little of my time into someone else's bank. Once I give it, it's gone. I can't get it back so what I do with it should be something worth doing. What's more worth doing than helping the people in your world who make life all worth it?

So I put the idea on a business card. Anyone that I would  give a Holiday gift to this year will get a simple black and white card offering them a chunk of my time. The front of the card identifies me as a "Time Sharer" and gives my contact info. The back of the card gives the reasonable fine print.  See below. 

The card gives someone important to me permission, not only to ask for help with no strings attached, but also to inconvenience me a little without feeling bad about it. 

The Time Card has it's limitations. It doesn't necessarily work for people who live far away . I wouldn't give it to my mother or my boss (the obligations there could get touchy). I certainly wouldn't offer my time to anyone that I wasn't pretty damn sure wasn't an ax murderer. 

I didn't put an expiration date on it either, although, I am trying to remember to put a date on the card so I can see how long it takes to get it back. I wonder what will be asked of me, if anything. Will a relationship be transformed or unchanged? Will people think I'm super looney  and toss the card aside? Will my offers be lost forever in the depths of someone's purse or wallet?   Will the cards come back to me years from now? 

For the moment, it remains to be seen. Stayed tuned. 

Peace! lw

Here's what is on the back of the Time Card.

s

Musings on Holiday Music

With the coming of Thanksgiving, comes the advent of holiday music. Some people hate holiday music. I can't say that I hate it although it does get old by the time Christmas finally arrives. In fact, the music used to be my favorite part of the season.

I have noticed the past 10 years that the local radio station that plays holiday music between Thanksgiving and Christmas seems to have a limited repartee of songs, playing the same songs everyday, every hour. When compared to newer holidays like Labor Day or Kwanzaa, Christmas (and for that matter Hanukkah) has been around a  long time. So there is a ton of Christmas (and Hanukkah) music out there. Public vendors like the local radio station are not  interested in Christmas music anymore, they are interested in shopping music. True Christmas classics like "The Holly and the Ivy" and  "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen",  have been relegated to church choirs and madrigal groups leaving the radio waves to dump out songs like "Santa Baby" and "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer."

The only song I hate more than "Santa Baby" is the "Little Drummer Boy". I think the story is sweet but all the pa-rumpa-pum-pumming makes a mediocre song last for a horrid eternity.  While I can totally relate to the drummer boy's plight of having no gifts to bring because he was too damn poor to buy food, much less gold or frankincense, he could pa-rumpa-pum-pum a lot less and still get his point across.

Peace! lw

Sonic's Newsletter Debut

Sonic and I teamed up to write the Fall newsletter for City Dog, Country Dog. I've been attending City Dog's Call of the Wild Dog Camp in Yachats every year since the first camp in 2004. Sonic's camp debut was in 2011 as a 7 month old whippersnapper fresh out of a shelter in Klamath Falls where he was labeled as incorrigible. Camp is the place he learned to be off the leash in the woods without getting lost (at least not for long) and to hunt rats with passion. As my camp pals would attest, he's come along way. While he's still a handful, he's been worth it. Rising into the top ten Schipperkes in the North American Flyball Assc. has been a super sonic journey for this wild and crazy little pup. He defines the word enthusiasm and his zest for life reminds me that refusing to give up can carry you far. Peace! lw
Click on the link below to see my article and his shining face.
http://citydogcountrydogtraining.com/CDCD_News_Fall_2014.pdf

Fun with Socially Awkward Moments

My friend gets married. Now it should not be a big deal that I am invited to the reception. In a room full of dog owners or science geeks, I'm cool as a cuke.  But when it's just some regular, average folks, I  reach the pinnacle of social awkwardness in a nanosecond. My friend knows me well and says she understands if I can't  bring myself to attend. In the interest of being a good friend, I force myself to put on nice clothing and go. I hate nice clothing.  I invite a mutual friend to join me and she agrees.

When I arrive at the restaurant, I see the happy couple greeting guests.  I congratulate them briefly and then head back into the reception room where I fail to find an empty chair.  I stand there in the middle, surveying a room full of old people, like a nervous hare assessing escape routes. There is only one way out and it is the way I came in.

I hustle back to the front of the restaurant and drop anxiously into a booth. I grab my phone knowing that text-ing could squelch my anxiety. Let's see... who can I text? Who can I tell that I am dangerously close hyperventilating?

"Hi", says the server, "Can I get you anything? Are you with the wedding party?"

"Yes," I say becoming too honest. "I hate these things. My socially awkward state is escalating. I just had to get out of there where I can send some texts or inhale oxygen."

"Oh no problem," she says," I get it. My boyfriend is the same. He hates social gatherings and he gets all sweaty. Let me get you something for that."

"Great," I say ," a Diet Coke with a little something."

When the drink arrives I slam it. Mistake! It is all rum with just enough Coke to hide that fact.
I almost cough it up back up.

About half  way through the drink, my friend arrives.Whew! Not alone!  We head for the buffet which is pretty well picked over. We glean a few scraps and find a space on the fringe to stand with our plates. We chat. Toasts are given, cake is eaten.  I am done.

I hope her marriage lasts because I am not going to her wedding again. Seriously! Not going again. \

Peace! lw

Time's Upper Hand

All people have 8760 hours per year in a non-leap year. The average person spends about 2000 hours at work (23%). That, of course, does not account for overtime or any work we take home. Most healthy people spend almost 3000 hours per year asleep. So that's another 1/3 of our time used up. Unfortunately, sleep is necessary and we suffer if deprived of it. Most people spend another 5% of time commuting about to work and other places we have to go. That leaves about 40% of our time up for grabs. I would guess that most of us spend more that half of these left over hours leading a civilized life: getting the oil changed, mowing yards, eating, cleaning,  taking showers, and standing in all kinds of lines. It's what we gotta do to continue on in the civilized world. If you have kids you give most of that time to them in an attempt to turn them into productive tax-paying citizens  in the event that you let them live into adulthood.

That leaves us only about 20% of lifetime of hours to really do the things that make life worth it. Since it's not a lot, we have to work hard at spending the 20% really well.

Now the really bad news. Once you spend time, it's gone. Really gone. You can't get it back no matter what you do. So if we decide to spend those few hours that are truly ours to spend sitting on the bench, then what? We don't get time sponsored "do-overs". Once it passed, it's past.

The other unfair thing about time is that nobody gets to know how much they have. We aren't born with an expiration date stamped on our hand. All we know is that everybody gets some. Time always has the upper hand. It keeps us guessing. How would we live if we did have an expiration date? Would our lives change as the expiration date got closer? We are only guaranteed one day at a time. So you if rack up your Super 20% in the bank in hopes of using it for the bucket list, you might get it, but you might not. Time is not FDIC insured.

I don't have a bucket list.  Like many working people, I don't have the money or large chunks of time to do much about what might be on a bucket list. Minding the present and not worrying too much about the future is how I survive the hands of time staring me down. For me, "Seize the Day" seems a more appropriate response to what to do with my Super 20%. I have to think about what I can do today or this week.  What can I learn today?  Who can I appreciate tomorrow? Where will I go and what should I do this week to find some peace to refuel my soul? So many questions, so little time.

Tick..... tick.......tick.

lw

Here's a place that Pi and I go to relax and reflect. Pretty sure he's reflecting
 on \how much trouble he would get into if he chased those ducks. 

You think it's funny, but it's snot.

I have a cold. It's terrible. Not terrible enough to keep me from going to work, just terrible enough to make everyone I work with miserable too. I don't mind the fact that I am tired but I would like to be able to breathe. Not breathing is a problem. I tried breathing some oxygen from our anesthetic machine today. I thought maybe more oxygen would be helpful......... it wasn't.

I hate being sick. In my family, if you were sick it was considered a sign of weakness. Sicknesses were required to be ignored as long as possible. To get out of going to school, my mother required bleeding, barfing, or a fever over 101 F. If you could not produce one of these effects to her satisfaction before the bus came, you went to school even if she had to carry you to the bus stop and dump you there. As a result, I spent a few days in the nurse's office while the nurse made many attempts to contact my mother to retrieve me.

I will be miserable for a week, somewhat miserable for another week, and then it will be over until I catch it again. Unless it kills me.
Achoo! lw

Sisterhood of the Whispering Pants

Alas, the autumn is upon us. The leaves are turned. The rain has come. My hot flashes have subsided for the time being.  Time to pull out the winter, sweaters, jackets, rain gear, and my favorite corduroy pants. This year my old gray corduroys are baggier than ever since I dropped a few pounds. So I donned them for day and was sad to find out that even when the pants are not too tight  they still  utter a zippy whisper with every step.

What the pants whisper is up for interpretation. When they were tight I was sure they quietly buzzed the phrase, "Too fat, too fat, too fat".  Now, that I'm a year older and have a bum knee,  I think they mutter, "Slow down, slow down, slow down."

Why does anyone wear corduroy pants anyway?
Peace! lw

Conspiracy of The World's Best Donut

At Sesame Donuts, a special donut calls my name when I get within a mile of the place. Sid's Special is the best donut in the world. I'm not kidding. I'm not exaggerating . A tasty, succulent, doughy wrapper containing the finest blueberry pie filling known to human kind with a thin layer of white icing and a crumb topping wrenches my soul away.  Sid's Special is so delish that if  not available, I just don't get anything.

I know that donuts are not good for me. I want the donut. I love the donut.  I can't resist it. So I raise it  up in a form of twisted pastry worship, and  I sink into a quality mouthful knowing how great it's gonna taste. As I reach  donut ecstasy ........ it never fails...  a super blob of  most awesome blueberry pie filling will caress my chin as it falls down my shirt and onto my favorite white shorts.

The worst part is that the 100% post consumer recycled napkins that came with the donut fail me in all attempts to remove the sticky, purple, evidence. Now everyone can see what I have done. Everyone knows about that donut and what a slob I am. My regret is that so much good filling was wasted. I  feel like a dumb ass ........... and still want another donut.

Peace (and donuts) ! lw

Sid's Special Donut (before) 

after

Doing the "Right" Thing

Why is it that when presented with the opportunity to "do the right thing",  I am  so often presented with the opportunity to do the most difficult thing? What is it about the universe that makes doing what is wrong easy enough and doing absolutely nothing even simpler?

We all make sacrifices now and then. Sacrifice implying that whatever deed is done is not necessarily in the best interest of the doer. We do what is ethical, say what is true, keep a promise that should be kept knowing that we may not receive even simple gratitude.

And so I ask myself often why I continue to do what is right when I don't get much return for the investment.
The answer:  because that is who I am.

"See, you don’t have to think about doing the right thing if you are for the right thing then you’ll do it without thinking.” Maya Angelou

Peace! lw

Sometimes it's a race..........

The race is flyball ....... the journey is getting a Grand Champion or 30,000 points.

Flyball is the only dog sport where 4 dogs must work in harmony with 4 handlers and the box loader to reach two common goals. Goal #1 is to out race the other team, and goal #2 is to post a time under 24 seconds. The ultimate goal being to accomplish Goal #1 and #2 simultaneously for the "perfect run."

Pi loves this game. It's his life. The best thing is that we love it together. When we go to competition, we forget about everything else. I put away concerns about work and turf my personal struggles for a weekend. Pi's focus changes from day to day living to that of a fine tuned ball fetching beast.  WE RACE! Sometimes we win. Sometimes we don't. Either way we work together, a team within a team. We come home dirty, tired, and smelling like sweat, dog spit, and old cheese sticks, and we don't care.  In a few weeks and just after his 7th birthday, we will compete in Canada for Pi's 30,000th point earning him a Flyball Dog Grand Champion title. So while in flyball there is always a race, it's been a journey indeed to get this far. We remember that in flyball you don't get there alone. A TEAM must take you there.

Thanks to all the handlers, dogs, and boxloaders, past and present, from many different clubs who have traveled with us on this journey.You are too numerous to name but you know who you are.
Our biggest thanks goes to our current X-Fidos team mates. We love racing with you guys most of all. Look for the update in a few weeks.
Peace! lw

p.s. I must pay homage to Pi's medical team. After he was injured last June, I thought his career might be seriously stalled or even over. Thanks for looking after Pi and helping us get him back in the ring. You're an  important part of  Team Pi.

Can you hear me now?

Communication is the heart of every relationship. We communicate every  day with partners, children, co-workers, friends, neighbors, and service providers.

 The person who pumps my gas (yes, only Oregon will they still pump your gas for you) can't deliver what I need if I don't communicate. If I pull up to the pump and just sit there, the gas pumper might put diesel in my tank. Most likely s/he won't do anything. Then I will be irritated and call him incompetent when all the fuss was my own fault for not communicating.

So my question is: why is it that we fail at something we have to do all the time? You would think that with all the communicating we need to do to survive, we would all be great at it. Yet, so much communication fails.

So I ask my self why I fail.......... and here's what I came up with......
lack of awareness. sometimes I just don't have a clue I need say anything.
and fear of being misunderstood or rejected. Can you relate?

If I speak the truth will I be shunned? If I say what I mean, will it be taken out of context?
If I tell I how I feel, will I be misjudged? Will my attempts to communicate be cast off and ignored?
So I decide it's not worth the risk and choose silence.

Choosing silence robs myself and someone else of the opportunity to place a brick in that path to understanding. Knowing this doesn't make it easier. Communicating the right way is hard. And if we could all communicate  then maybe we'd  get along.

In the words of Jimmy Dugan,  "If it was easy everyone would do it. It's the hard that makes it great."
Peace! lw

A Noble Art

Welcome Aboard! I have been told I should blog. The journey's in the learning.