Got my first response to the relaunch of the blog, from a dear friend who I've knows for, I dunno, 20 years? Her words, "you are the architect of your day," are worth repeating. Isn't that the truth! Every day is a smorgasbord of internal and external stuff. We can't control what pops into our head or whether a short-fuse-driver gives us the finger, but we can control what we do with those things. We can control what we choose to put on our plates at the buffet table of life. I recently asked myself, "Sarah, What can you control and what can't you." I decided that obsessive thoughts were, for me, the big problem - fixating on a person or problem and gnawing at it/them with no peace or resolution. Is there something in your life that is like that for you? - your worry "go to" place that pops into your brain day in and day out? I think you would agree that we can't control the thoughts that knock at our door, but what we CAN control is whether we invite them in, share coffee with them, ruminate with them. These days, I'm working on identifying those thoughts that should be unwelcome guests and when they announce themselves, acknowledging them ("Oh, it's you again!) but then sending them packing. How do I do that? By having distractions at hand - magazines, books, changing my venue, calling a friend, sitting at the piano and working on a new song, perfecting an old one, cooking something, planning something. It's all better than gnawing at a bone with no marrow left inside.
Today, everywhere I went, everyone was so nice to me, nicer than usual. It was lovely but I was befuddled. "Why?" I thought, "is everyone in such a sweet mood?" Madeleine said it's because I look like a cancer patient. Because I'm having a bad hair day, I clipped it to the top of my head, and because it's winter I put on a stocking cap. When I looked in the mirror I had to agree even though I have healthy and prominent eyebrows. Maybe people figured they just hadn't fallen out yet. So, is it cheating, when I'm having a bad stretch, to put on the stocking cap and go out into the world in search of kindness? And the bigger question should be, "Why does it take an obvious illness for people to be their nicest?" I'm guessing that almost everyone we meet could use our finest kindness, not just people with obvious infirmities.
Up against a scary deadline with the IRS. It's all but paralyzing. Don't really want to talk about it much except to say, "If I end up disappearing, look for me as a waitress in a Texas diner using the pseudonym, Flora."
Tonight a date with Ed. Trying not to be jaded. I had sworn off dating last week, but he called and I relented. Hope springs eternal. Finally said a final, final, final (yes there have been lots of finals) good-bye to Patrick. This time I mean it - pinky swear.
And that's all for today. The take away for today could be to don a stocking cap with your hair tucked under if you're having a really bad day and just need a little sympathy. Or it could be to treat everyone you meet with the same kindness you would give them if they were wearing a stocking cap with no hair showing.
Peace,
Sarah
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