Random Thoughts

I am privileged. Oh man, am I privileged. Not only do I have healthy food to eat, I have a grocery store I can walk to to buy it. I have a car and gas in the tank. I have a roof over my head.   A cozy bed (with a warm electric blanket!).   I have shoes (many pairs to choose from) and clothes to wear. I GET that I am privileged.   But days like today, oh man.   I am reminded how truly sheltered and naïve I am. I am an “armchair warrior”.   I talk the talk.   I hang the signs on my front gate.   But when push comes to shove… My sister Sherry and I joined an event called “Swarm the Senate” today.   It is a group of people (it seems mostly women) who have been showing up at the Hart Senate Office building in Washington DC at noon for the last 12 days.   They are peacefully demonstrating, demanding that trump be removed from office.   I had been wanting to go but hadn’t made time to do it.   With work, sadness, and life in general, showing up at an

Gifts mean a lot to me.   I love to GIVE them.   I know lots of people say that, but I really take joy in finding a gift that fits a person, wrapping it, and giving it to them.   And I enjoy getting gifts, of course!   But I also really, really like HAVING gifts.   Like, WRAPPED UP, STILL WAITING FOR ME gifts.   It’s weird, I know, and it drives some people crazy.   We have a pile of unopened gifts in our house, some of which are probably a decade old!!   I have learned that I can only allow myself to “save” unwrapped gifts from my sweetheart.   Gifts from family and friends must be opened (relatively) quickly when they arrive, so as not to hurt people’s feelings.   But gifts between David and I can be left to “simmer”, I can wonder what might be in them, and I can pretend like there will never be an end to the gift giving.   That our love and exchange is endless.   A few times in my lift I have been given gifts by people who had NOTHING to give.   No money.   No access

Have you ever thought about how much you strive for perfection? I think we all do it, if not all the time, then at least OFTEN.   At work we want a “perfect review”.   We want (expect??) our love relationships to be “perfect”.   We pluck our eyebrows, cut our hair, all with a goal (probably unspoken and unrealized even subconsciously) of “perfection”. Perfection is what we continually strive for , yet if we are being honest, we all know it is impossible. Your house will never be “perfectly clean” (heaven knows mine won’t anyway).   Your clothes will never fit “perfectly” and match from head to toe (that sock inching its way down your ankle will make sure of that).   Your kids, your relationships, NOTHING will ever be PERFECT . So, why do we all strive for the unachievable?   Is setting ourselves up for inevitable failure only a recipe for frustration, depression, or at the very least, feeling like crap?? Don’t get me wrong.   There is certainly value in setting