OK, I've had enough. It's only day 4 or so of the swine flu hysteria, and the panic in the 'burbs is spreading like wildfire. Never mind the fact that there have been ZERO cases of the illness in the neighboring counties. Never mind the fact that people who get sick recover (yeah, there have been a couple of deaths, but not enough to warrant this reaction), and never mind that hand sanitizer is anti-BACTERIAL and has no impact on a VIRUS!!
I refuse to buy into the sensation that is being created over this. Yes, if you have a serious underlying health condition, then please take all necessary precautions. However, it seems ridiculous to me to cancel all UIL athletic and academic competitions and many other extracurricular activities just on the mere HINT of a sneeze. That's like cutting off your toe in case you might stub it, or getting both breasts removed simply because someone in another city got a positive result for cancer. Oh, wait, there are those who do that, too... At any rate, it's a move that is out of proportion with the threat. Of course, this is just my opinion.
On the other hand, much of a person's reaction to this event depends on their own personal filter. My husband has the opposite reaction to all of these measures, and my daughter is on the fence. Both have recently finished reading books on the Plague and the yellow fever epidemic of 1793, so the horror of an epidemic/pandemic is still fresh in their minds. Avoiding public places and following the advice of the CDC is not a bad thing, but it's unfortunate that everyone is freaking out. I liken it to the whole terrorism color-coding alert system. After a while, you just tune it out.
My Louise Hay book, "Heal Your Body", correlates physical illnesses with likely mental causes, and here's what she has to say about influenza:
Probable Cause: Response to mass negativity and beliefs. Fear. Belief in statistics.
New Thought Pattern: I am beyond group beliefs or the calendar. I am free from all congestion and influence.
I plan on saying that positive affirmation on a daily basis until this "crisis" is over. That, and washing my hands.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Mission Accomplished!
Hurray! The wedding went off without a hitch, I'm grateful to say. Well, other than the fact that I forgot to tell the guests to sit down after my brother & sister-in-law gave their blessing to my niece....but thankfully the maid of honor whispered in my ear that they were still standing. So, everyone got to stand while they recited their vows, oh well... :-)
I still find it hard to believe that I married a couple. The fact that it was my niece who has had to deal with the direct comparison to me all of her life made it all the more special. In fact, the whole event was magical. It started on time, no one in the bridal party fainted, and even the last-minute change of the sand ceremony by the high winds made the whole thing just perfect. Instead of the two glasses of sand standing on a small table up front, the wind forced them to be presented to the happy couple by the bride's parents. Yeah, I could absolutely get used to the energy rush of pure joy from everyone at the ceremony... Still, a sage bit of advice from another minister friend comparing the officiant to a piece of furniture gave me new perspective on my role, and it also took all of the pressure off. Thanks, Ellen!
My aunt was able to attend with her ailing husband, too. They made the Herculean effort to drive from LaCrosse, KS, all the way to Denton. Justin has been battling severe diabetes for decades, and is usually confined to a wheelchair, unless he's back in the hospital for various complications of the disease. The stars aligned for this event, though, and he had enough energy to actually get up out of the chair and dance for several songs! The ecstacy and wonder in his children's faces was equaled only by the unabashed joy and gratitude on his wife's face. Justin wore a grin from ear to ear all night long...poetry, pure poetry! It was the completion of a promise that Justin made to his grandson that if Mat ever got married, then he would come to his wedding. And so he did.
Perhaps I am biased, but this whole event was almost surreal in the blending of families, the ease of old friends reconnecting, and the nearly seamless transitions from pre-wedding jitters to post-ceremony joy. Yeah, I got to stand up front and say some words, but this had a truly blessed feel to the entire day that could only come from the Creator.
Yeah, I do still sound like a bliss bunny, I know, but it really was that cool! Guess some of that may stem from the feeling that my husband and I renewed our vows by proxy, and by being able to dance the night away myself, and by having both of my children tell me several times that I did good, but regardless, I think I'll hold onto this feeling for a long time. It's a keeper!
I still find it hard to believe that I married a couple. The fact that it was my niece who has had to deal with the direct comparison to me all of her life made it all the more special. In fact, the whole event was magical. It started on time, no one in the bridal party fainted, and even the last-minute change of the sand ceremony by the high winds made the whole thing just perfect. Instead of the two glasses of sand standing on a small table up front, the wind forced them to be presented to the happy couple by the bride's parents. Yeah, I could absolutely get used to the energy rush of pure joy from everyone at the ceremony... Still, a sage bit of advice from another minister friend comparing the officiant to a piece of furniture gave me new perspective on my role, and it also took all of the pressure off. Thanks, Ellen!
My aunt was able to attend with her ailing husband, too. They made the Herculean effort to drive from LaCrosse, KS, all the way to Denton. Justin has been battling severe diabetes for decades, and is usually confined to a wheelchair, unless he's back in the hospital for various complications of the disease. The stars aligned for this event, though, and he had enough energy to actually get up out of the chair and dance for several songs! The ecstacy and wonder in his children's faces was equaled only by the unabashed joy and gratitude on his wife's face. Justin wore a grin from ear to ear all night long...poetry, pure poetry! It was the completion of a promise that Justin made to his grandson that if Mat ever got married, then he would come to his wedding. And so he did.
Perhaps I am biased, but this whole event was almost surreal in the blending of families, the ease of old friends reconnecting, and the nearly seamless transitions from pre-wedding jitters to post-ceremony joy. Yeah, I got to stand up front and say some words, but this had a truly blessed feel to the entire day that could only come from the Creator.
Yeah, I do still sound like a bliss bunny, I know, but it really was that cool! Guess some of that may stem from the feeling that my husband and I renewed our vows by proxy, and by being able to dance the night away myself, and by having both of my children tell me several times that I did good, but regardless, I think I'll hold onto this feeling for a long time. It's a keeper!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Breathing lessons
I woke up this morning in a state of panic. Well, not panic, per se, but the unceasing constriction of anxiety that precedes taking a step that is so far out of your comfort zone that it is nearly inconceivable to the imagination. You see, I’m about to perform a wedding for my beloved niece and her fiance. The only certification that I have is an on-line ordination from The Universal Life Church, which I got about a year ago to legally protect me during my hands-on energy clearing/coaching sessions. Of course, being happily married to the same man for nearly 18 years helps me to understand the intimate nature and gravity of the situation, but standing up in front of up to 150 people to legally, if not spiritually, sanctify the union of a loving couple? Yeah, now you understand why it’s been a bit tough to breathe lately…
So I finally surrendered this morning to this feeling. I let myself feel as if I were going to disappear, and I even watched that part of me experience the worst situation I could imagine. I put that small part in a bubble with all of the disappointment, the criticism, the judgments of those present and not present, as well as all of my own fearful thoughts, and watched as the combined weight literally crushed that aspect of me. When it was all over, I felt lighter, free! It is a very uncomfortable feeling to witness this type of destruction, but I had to allow it to happen in order to let the rest of me escape the tightening noose of emotions that threatened to pull me under.
The final act of purging these inner demons came in the shower. Sea salt is a wonderful purifying agent, and I had a tub of Arbonne’s Awaken sea salt scrub. As the fragrance wafted over my olfactory glands, I impulsively grabbed a handful and began scrubbing the grit over my heart. As I worked my way around the rest of the dermal layers, I turned this simple act of cleansing my body into a meditation, saying the following words out loud:
I wash away any negativity lingering in my heart, allowing it open fully to receive God’s wisdom and guidance
I wash my arms, the symbol of the ability to hold on to those I love and to release that which no longer serves me
I wash my back, capable of bearing enormous weight with ease and grace
I wash my legs, strong enough to carry me to whatever the future holds for me, yet flexible enough to stay balanced
I wash my feet, symbols of the strong foundation of my childhood teachings and the foundation that I have created for myself
As the water washes over me, the salt cleanses me of any residual fears and negativity surrounding this event,
Awakening me to my full God-given potential.
I may be flawed, but I AM perfect just as I AM.
Thank you, Mother-Father God!
Once this act had been completed, I was finally able to take a deep breath and KNOW that all would be well, that all IS well. I may not perform the ceremony perfectly, but that’s OK. Of course, if I ever wanted to have fun with the title on the card that I received, I guess it could be a lot of fun to go around introducing myself as “Rev Bev”! Not today, though…today, I’ll just stick with Bev, and I’ll strive to be the best, perfectly flawed Bev that I can be. Namaste!
So I finally surrendered this morning to this feeling. I let myself feel as if I were going to disappear, and I even watched that part of me experience the worst situation I could imagine. I put that small part in a bubble with all of the disappointment, the criticism, the judgments of those present and not present, as well as all of my own fearful thoughts, and watched as the combined weight literally crushed that aspect of me. When it was all over, I felt lighter, free! It is a very uncomfortable feeling to witness this type of destruction, but I had to allow it to happen in order to let the rest of me escape the tightening noose of emotions that threatened to pull me under.
The final act of purging these inner demons came in the shower. Sea salt is a wonderful purifying agent, and I had a tub of Arbonne’s Awaken sea salt scrub. As the fragrance wafted over my olfactory glands, I impulsively grabbed a handful and began scrubbing the grit over my heart. As I worked my way around the rest of the dermal layers, I turned this simple act of cleansing my body into a meditation, saying the following words out loud:
I wash away any negativity lingering in my heart, allowing it open fully to receive God’s wisdom and guidance
I wash my arms, the symbol of the ability to hold on to those I love and to release that which no longer serves me
I wash my back, capable of bearing enormous weight with ease and grace
I wash my legs, strong enough to carry me to whatever the future holds for me, yet flexible enough to stay balanced
I wash my feet, symbols of the strong foundation of my childhood teachings and the foundation that I have created for myself
As the water washes over me, the salt cleanses me of any residual fears and negativity surrounding this event,
Awakening me to my full God-given potential.
I may be flawed, but I AM perfect just as I AM.
Thank you, Mother-Father God!
Once this act had been completed, I was finally able to take a deep breath and KNOW that all would be well, that all IS well. I may not perform the ceremony perfectly, but that’s OK. Of course, if I ever wanted to have fun with the title on the card that I received, I guess it could be a lot of fun to go around introducing myself as “Rev Bev”! Not today, though…today, I’ll just stick with Bev, and I’ll strive to be the best, perfectly flawed Bev that I can be. Namaste!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Happy Easter...and pass the meat, please!
OK, 6 weeks later, and I have broken my animal protein fast. My digestive system is still figuring it all out, but I can honestly say that I'm not in a feasting frenzy over meat. Yeah, that chicken in my Chinese Chicken Salad from The Cheesecake Factory was tasty, but it didn't add much of anything to the salad. And my bacon this morning simply tasted greasy, not delectable like I had remembered. My taste buds were simply "whelmed". Not over- or under-, just whelmed.
Yeah, it's nice to not have that as a self-imposed restriction anymore, but I'm not going out of my way to get a big slab of beef anytime soon. Too many yummy veggies out there!
Yeah, it's nice to not have that as a self-imposed restriction anymore, but I'm not going out of my way to get a big slab of beef anytime soon. Too many yummy veggies out there!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Getting in touch with my inner crank...
Spending time with my children and their friends is a terrific way to make me feel old and out of touch. I find out so many new tidbits about my personality, though, that I am compelled to do so as often as they’ll let me.
For example, I never realized that I was a racist. This has become the de facto retort whenever I comment on my son’s habits and the friends that they came from. I am admittedly a grammar snob, so when I hear the English language being butchered, I’m not shy about calling attention to it. One of my biggest pet peeves is the use of “Aks” instead of “Ask”.
It was quite jarring to hear that come from my 8th grade son’s mouth. He’s a master chameleon with his language habits, word usage, and even body posture, adopting the mannerisms of whatever group he’s with at the time. Those three little letters to me sound so, well, lazy. And wrong. Does that mean I’m a racist?
According to my son, yes.
While I vehemently disagree, it does illustrate my tendency to be a major nit-picker. Proper language has been very important to me ever since my broadcasting days in college. It took me nearly a year of hard work to eliminate the “R” in “Wash”!
I can’t stand it when I hear people, men and women alike, lapse into the “Honey” or “Sweetie” routine automatically, making their voices into sugary concoctions designed to induce diabetes. I’m a regional-ist, if that is even a word, since I have a hard time taking anyone with a strong southern drawl seriously. My own father used to drive me crazy with the slow, deliberate pacing of his words. Now I realize that it wasn’t a lack of intelligence that drove his pace. He just refused to let his thoughts outrun his words, choosing them carefully in order to achieve clarity, rather than speed. Even with this pet peeve, I find that the longer I live in Texas, the more entrenched “Y’all” becomes in my daily conversations.
After a day of hanging out with my daughter and her band at Six Flags on Saturday, I really began to feel like a fuddy-duddy. I am apparently a tattoo-ist, too. Perhaps I’m just unable to commit, but would I really want to have angel wings forever engraved on my shoulder blades? Or worse, a large Yosemite Sam emblazoned on my bicep? The gentleman who had a tarantula tat dangling from a spiderweb behind his ear probably isn’t too concerned with my critique, but I guarantee that he’s not getting the prime income-earning positions in the work force.
I already knew I was a weight-ist. As a child, I was uncomfortable around people with more chins than limbs. As I have matured, I have nearly overcome this prejudiced view, which has a direct correlation with my own dance with the scales. But whatever happened to dressing modestly? After looking at the majority of arms in the amusement park, sleeves must not come in XXL. Better to show off those becoming tattoos, obviously.
Just because I have realized yet again that I can be quite judgmental doesn’t mean that I can’t change. Awareness is but the first step to eliminating a bad habit. But you’re still not going to find me at the tattoo parlor.
For example, I never realized that I was a racist. This has become the de facto retort whenever I comment on my son’s habits and the friends that they came from. I am admittedly a grammar snob, so when I hear the English language being butchered, I’m not shy about calling attention to it. One of my biggest pet peeves is the use of “Aks” instead of “Ask”.
It was quite jarring to hear that come from my 8th grade son’s mouth. He’s a master chameleon with his language habits, word usage, and even body posture, adopting the mannerisms of whatever group he’s with at the time. Those three little letters to me sound so, well, lazy. And wrong. Does that mean I’m a racist?
According to my son, yes.
While I vehemently disagree, it does illustrate my tendency to be a major nit-picker. Proper language has been very important to me ever since my broadcasting days in college. It took me nearly a year of hard work to eliminate the “R” in “Wash”!
I can’t stand it when I hear people, men and women alike, lapse into the “Honey” or “Sweetie” routine automatically, making their voices into sugary concoctions designed to induce diabetes. I’m a regional-ist, if that is even a word, since I have a hard time taking anyone with a strong southern drawl seriously. My own father used to drive me crazy with the slow, deliberate pacing of his words. Now I realize that it wasn’t a lack of intelligence that drove his pace. He just refused to let his thoughts outrun his words, choosing them carefully in order to achieve clarity, rather than speed. Even with this pet peeve, I find that the longer I live in Texas, the more entrenched “Y’all” becomes in my daily conversations.
After a day of hanging out with my daughter and her band at Six Flags on Saturday, I really began to feel like a fuddy-duddy. I am apparently a tattoo-ist, too. Perhaps I’m just unable to commit, but would I really want to have angel wings forever engraved on my shoulder blades? Or worse, a large Yosemite Sam emblazoned on my bicep? The gentleman who had a tarantula tat dangling from a spiderweb behind his ear probably isn’t too concerned with my critique, but I guarantee that he’s not getting the prime income-earning positions in the work force.
I already knew I was a weight-ist. As a child, I was uncomfortable around people with more chins than limbs. As I have matured, I have nearly overcome this prejudiced view, which has a direct correlation with my own dance with the scales. But whatever happened to dressing modestly? After looking at the majority of arms in the amusement park, sleeves must not come in XXL. Better to show off those becoming tattoos, obviously.
Just because I have realized yet again that I can be quite judgmental doesn’t mean that I can’t change. Awareness is but the first step to eliminating a bad habit. But you’re still not going to find me at the tattoo parlor.
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