**BTW, I just was tired from the long drive. Our gracious hostess was the one who got to experience the 24 hr bug. I still think it was the leftovers. :-)
Ah, vacation! You look forward to it for months, maybe even years, and then finally the moment arrives when you turn your dreams into reality! The euphoria of having all of your hard work and planning pay off into the promise of an idyllic getaway makes it all worthwhile as you unpack your belongings and settle in for the first round of activities.
And then the stomach lurches.
No. This can’t be happening! I don’t accept it. It’s just because the drive was long, the jet lag is kicking in, or the vitamins I just took aren’t settling well.
It’s a sad moment when the reality of the situation hits you, usually when the cool porcelain of the foreign toilet meets your lunch. Some people give it the amusing euphemism of “Traveler’s Tummy” or “Montezuma’s Revenge”, but no amount of magical thinking can take away the fact that your vacation has an uninvited guest – Mr. Bacteria and/or Ms. Virus.
We continued our tradition of spending the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve with our friends in Los Alamos, NM, confident that our families would be healthy this time around. I loaded up the car with all of the necessary vitamins, OTC remedies, and herbal supplements, all designed to keep our immune systems fully functional. In the past, we’ve battled the stomach flu, high fevers, mysterious headaches, and a wide variety of body aches. In fact, one year, our entire extended family took turns with the 104+ fevers and chills, just in time to sweat in the New Millenium. Quite the bonding experience, let me tell you!
Unfortunately, botulism just doesn’t care what you throw at it. It throws it all right back out, and then some.
None of this is the worst thing in the world, considering the poverty, famine, and life-threatening illnesses that pervade many areas of the world, but I began to notice a trend as I watched our hostess succumb to left-over sweet potatoes. Why does it always seem to happen when it’s vacation time?
Here’s my theory: we spend so much time gearing up for the event, we neglect our health. Then, when faced with an unfamiliar environment, our lowered immune system doesn’t have the resistance to fight off the bugs that are constantly surrounding us. Next thing you know, you’ve become one with the couch.
Which is probably the real reason behind it all… all your body wants is to relax. If you don’t listen to it when it asks you to slow down, it takes matters into its own hands (or digestive system), and helps you find that brick wall that makes you slow down. Taking it easy isn’t always an option, especially if you have a demanding job, small children, or even a home to take care of. Sometimes, the only thing left of you is just enough energy to go into serious repair mode.
I remember my college years (vaguely, as the years are now stretching into decades), and how trips home were filled with chicken noodle soup, hot toddies, and loads of naps. This was because I would have pushed my body to the absolute limit, maintaining a job, a social life, and studying for mid-terms and finals. Those semester breaks were necessary to recharge my battery. I don’t think that college students know what it’s like to NOT run on empty! Now that I’m a student of life, it’s not much different.
Sometimes, it’s not the guests who are ill. It’s the host. I’ve been in that role, too, and it’s almost worse than being sick in an unfamiliar environment. The thought that you might somehow be passing on the flu or some particularly virulent form of the common cold is abhorrent. Not to mention the scenario of having to see off an entire family of phlegm monsters as they hack and cough their way back to the airport, ready to begin the contagion anew.
Feeling under the weather definitely brings about an intimacy that is unrivaled, a true sense of who people are at their core. Some folks are great houseguests but lousy patients, while others are just as wonderful whether they are hacking or hiking.
If you can reframe your temporary ill health as yet another bonding experience, you will be allowing yourself to heal faster, since beating yourself up for being sick won’t help at all. Who knows? You might even discover some new techniques to aid your recovery!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-changes...
Well, I took a big step out of my comfort zone today. I changed my website to announce that I am not only a Feng Shui consultant, but I am also a personal coach and an energy worker. I've been doing these things for the past year surreptitiously, but now I'm out and proud! While this work may not make me the financial super-star of the world, it has the potential to be even more powerful. With my gentle help, my clients will be able to uncover their true natures by peeling away the layers of false beliefs, negative perceptions, and encoded patterns that have been handed down through generational means and mass mindsets. This is powerful stuff, and I'm grateful to have the ability and training to handle it properly. Some folks call what I do being a Lightworker, but to me that sounds a bit odd. After all, we ALL have a glow to our being that can illuminate the darkness, so doesn't that make all of us Lightworkers? I'll just go by Beverly. If you must attempt to contain me in a title, call me a Feng Shui consultant. I'll fill in the gaps for anyone who asks. After all, it's all on my website now, www.TheIntuitiveInterior.com!
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Farewell, my wooden friend...
Growing up is inevitable. However, our logical mind can process this even while our hearts are desperately clinging to the past.
Our fort is gone.
The children, who are now 14 and 11, have barely glanced at it in the past few years. But there it stood, solemnly waiting for the next visiting munchkin to slide screaming with joy down the green rocket, preferably into a waiting pool of water that had been conveniently arranged to catch them. It, too, remembered the tea parties in the upper tower, the evening dinners at the picnic table below, and the beanbags tossed at the sentries posted on the rock climbing wall.
I miss the gymnastics competitions the most. OK, granted, I won't miss the threat of bodily harm that the kids faced every time they found a NEW way to flip over the swings, or the skinned elbows as they raced each other to see who could do the obstacle course in the fastest time, but the laughter...oh, the laughter!
"The Fort" was a 2-story cedar construction with a 10' tower and a 13' tower that we had to get special dispensation from our HOA to even build it. There was a rock climbing wall, a sandbox, a picnic table, and an arm that held 3 swings. It hosted sleepovers, birthday parties, art projects, and scared puppies. But most of all, it was a fixture in our lives for over 9 years, as it was the first thing we purchased when we moved to Texas, almost before furniture. My husband and I lovingly assembled it, and sometimes not so lovingly restained it - several times. Even though we knew it was time to go, the vacancy in our back yard - and in our hearts - is almost unbearable.
Sure, something new and wondrous will take its place eventually, but for now, for this moment, I grieve. The loss of childhood, the memories never to be repeated, the high-pitched squeals of laughter forever replaced by the girlish giggling of a tween and the low baritone of my ever-growing young man. I miss those little kids, but I adore the people they are becoming.
Thank you, Mr. Fort, for being such an integral part of our family for so long. I know you'll be just as good to the next family that you went to!
Our fort is gone.
The children, who are now 14 and 11, have barely glanced at it in the past few years. But there it stood, solemnly waiting for the next visiting munchkin to slide screaming with joy down the green rocket, preferably into a waiting pool of water that had been conveniently arranged to catch them. It, too, remembered the tea parties in the upper tower, the evening dinners at the picnic table below, and the beanbags tossed at the sentries posted on the rock climbing wall.
I miss the gymnastics competitions the most. OK, granted, I won't miss the threat of bodily harm that the kids faced every time they found a NEW way to flip over the swings, or the skinned elbows as they raced each other to see who could do the obstacle course in the fastest time, but the laughter...oh, the laughter!
"The Fort" was a 2-story cedar construction with a 10' tower and a 13' tower that we had to get special dispensation from our HOA to even build it. There was a rock climbing wall, a sandbox, a picnic table, and an arm that held 3 swings. It hosted sleepovers, birthday parties, art projects, and scared puppies. But most of all, it was a fixture in our lives for over 9 years, as it was the first thing we purchased when we moved to Texas, almost before furniture. My husband and I lovingly assembled it, and sometimes not so lovingly restained it - several times. Even though we knew it was time to go, the vacancy in our back yard - and in our hearts - is almost unbearable.
Sure, something new and wondrous will take its place eventually, but for now, for this moment, I grieve. The loss of childhood, the memories never to be repeated, the high-pitched squeals of laughter forever replaced by the girlish giggling of a tween and the low baritone of my ever-growing young man. I miss those little kids, but I adore the people they are becoming.
Thank you, Mr. Fort, for being such an integral part of our family for so long. I know you'll be just as good to the next family that you went to!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
My "Sarah" glasses
It's always exciting and bewildering at the same time to get a comparison to a celebrity. In my younger days, Geena Davis was a common comment, along with Paulina Porizkova (the Czech supermodel who married the lead singer from Cars, Ric Ocasik? Remember?). Well, now the leading look-alike seems to be none other than the Governor of Alaska, Sarah Palin. Of course, that's only when I wear my glasses, which tends to be a relatively rare occurrence. As luck would have it, though, one of those times was when I attended the Voices columnists' training session a couple of months ago for the Dallas Morning News. My eyes were not in the mood for contacts, so rather than fight it, I went for the totally new look.
While I'm not a huge fan of Mrs. Palin's politics, she is an attractive woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. I think we could have a lot of fun camping out together, as long as she wasn't in the frame of mind to field-dress any wild game. Hey, I've "processed" quite a few chickens in my time growing up on a KS farm, and that is not an activity that is high on my list of experiences...but I digress. The simple fact is, she's made glasses cool again, and I really appreciate her doing that for the rest of America. Thanks, Sarah!
Now if I could just figure out why another friend of mine thought I looked like David Bowie...that was certainly a new one for me! Oh, and for the record, these frames are nothing like hers, but I'll still view any physical comparisons as a compliment. Bowie, on the other hand, not so much, but it could be fun to parade around like Ziggy Stardust for a while!
While I'm not a huge fan of Mrs. Palin's politics, she is an attractive woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. I think we could have a lot of fun camping out together, as long as she wasn't in the frame of mind to field-dress any wild game. Hey, I've "processed" quite a few chickens in my time growing up on a KS farm, and that is not an activity that is high on my list of experiences...but I digress. The simple fact is, she's made glasses cool again, and I really appreciate her doing that for the rest of America. Thanks, Sarah!
Now if I could just figure out why another friend of mine thought I looked like David Bowie...that was certainly a new one for me! Oh, and for the record, these frames are nothing like hers, but I'll still view any physical comparisons as a compliment. Bowie, on the other hand, not so much, but it could be fun to parade around like Ziggy Stardust for a while!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Nyquil Kisses and Cold Feet
Ah, Fall! When the bedtime routine consists of putting on old socks to keep your tootsies from freezing, and the smell of Mentholatum and Nyquil fills the air along with the sounds of a phlegmatic's raspy grasp for a deep breath. It's that time of the season when the crunch of the leaves wafts mold & old pollen up through the arboreal jaunts, and the sinus passages find new things to be irritated by. That's when you know what true love is all about.
It's a helpless feeling to watch as your family tries to rid itself of that extra lung. It's even more challenging to snuggle up with someone as their body collapses in paroxyms of coughs, making the cuddle time more of a moving-target time. Still, it's because of these moments that I appreciate all of the healthy ones that we can spend together, making me appreciate my trips to the gym all the more rewarding. Thanks, God, for another day of being able to breathe easily and move relatively pain-free!
It's a helpless feeling to watch as your family tries to rid itself of that extra lung. It's even more challenging to snuggle up with someone as their body collapses in paroxyms of coughs, making the cuddle time more of a moving-target time. Still, it's because of these moments that I appreciate all of the healthy ones that we can spend together, making me appreciate my trips to the gym all the more rewarding. Thanks, God, for another day of being able to breathe easily and move relatively pain-free!
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Labels
OK, let me say for the record: I’m not a Realtor! Well, technically, I am, since I hold a valid license, though I haven’t been active for over a year. Why all of the uproar over this? I was introduced as a Realtor for my job title for the Dallas Morning News Voices gang! It was simply a mistake, since I had held that title in the past, but that’s not the hat I wear these days (for the record, I’m a Feng Shui consultant, home stager, and life coach).
Still, once I got over my surprise at being miscategorized, I began to analyze why I was upset over this at all. After all, a job title doesn’t even begin to describe the complex, multi-faceted individual that I am. A simple little change in the job description at the end of my columns will fix it, so what’s the big deal?
I chalk up my agitation to the holidays. Nothing like getting together with extended family that you only have minimal contact throughout the year for several days of forced intimacy to get your guard up. As the youngest of 8 children, I constantly battle the illusion in my siblings’ minds that I’m a hot-headed 12 year old agitator, not the passionate 40+ idealist that I’ve become. And, conversely, I’m not entirely sure who THEY are, either. Sometimes I think that we should all take some type of survey in advance of the gathering, so we don’t have to spend the entire brief time span lamenting the fact that no one understands who we are anymore.
Labels and job descriptions give people a jumping-off point, a way to fix in their minds the character, tone, and direction of conversation. Every networking group I attend stresses the importance of the 30-second “elevator speech”, where you neatly sum up your job and interests in an effort to entice the other person to find out more about you. When done well, you can find out a lot about a person in a very short span of time. Developing a good one forces you to focus on what’s important to you, which is a key component to being successful in your life.
When labels are too limiting, skewed, or just plain wrong, they can have devastating effects. Just look at any political campaign for a myriad of examples. The terms “liberal” and “conservative” were both used to bludgeon the voters into toeing the party line. Even the word “patriotic” got sullied by candidates and their handlers, all in an effort to win the electorate’s hearts and minds. Prejudices creep silently into conversations if one isn’t aware of their words, too. That’s why it is so important to weigh what you say, since you can’t un-say things. You can pull the nail out of the board, but the hole still remains.
So what do you do if you are trying not to pigeon-hole yourself and others into a narrow little box? It’s actually very simple, yet extremely difficult at the same time: you have to take the time to actually listen. I know, I know, this is a tall order for today’s sound-bite generation, but even 30 seconds is asking a lot of some folks, let alone 30 minutes. It’s undeniable that the more our lives speed up, the greater the need to slow down at times. That’s why I personally have carved out one night each week just for me. Sometimes it’s spent with family, playing games or enjoying an outing together, other times it’s with friends, and still others, my most treasured times, it’s spent in a nice hot tub filled with Epsom Salts and orange peels.
Looking through your heart instead of your eyes is another way to get around the label game. After all, the executives at Enron looked great on paper and even more impressive in person with their designer suits and elegant homes, but their hearts were shriveled and lifeless, polluted with selfish desires for their personal gain. Years of being in sales positions taught me that some co-workers would gladly stab you in the back just for a couple of bucks. Look in the mirror, and if you see that person staring back, perhaps it’s time for some personal introspection. No one needs that kind of negative energy polluting their environment.
At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter if people think I’m a Realtor, a Feng Shui consultant, or a glow-in-the-dark alien from the planet Krelzop. I know who I am, and I’m happy to share that with anyone who is interested. Hello, my name is Beverly. Would you like to get to know each other over some tea? My treat!
Still, once I got over my surprise at being miscategorized, I began to analyze why I was upset over this at all. After all, a job title doesn’t even begin to describe the complex, multi-faceted individual that I am. A simple little change in the job description at the end of my columns will fix it, so what’s the big deal?
I chalk up my agitation to the holidays. Nothing like getting together with extended family that you only have minimal contact throughout the year for several days of forced intimacy to get your guard up. As the youngest of 8 children, I constantly battle the illusion in my siblings’ minds that I’m a hot-headed 12 year old agitator, not the passionate 40+ idealist that I’ve become. And, conversely, I’m not entirely sure who THEY are, either. Sometimes I think that we should all take some type of survey in advance of the gathering, so we don’t have to spend the entire brief time span lamenting the fact that no one understands who we are anymore.
Labels and job descriptions give people a jumping-off point, a way to fix in their minds the character, tone, and direction of conversation. Every networking group I attend stresses the importance of the 30-second “elevator speech”, where you neatly sum up your job and interests in an effort to entice the other person to find out more about you. When done well, you can find out a lot about a person in a very short span of time. Developing a good one forces you to focus on what’s important to you, which is a key component to being successful in your life.
When labels are too limiting, skewed, or just plain wrong, they can have devastating effects. Just look at any political campaign for a myriad of examples. The terms “liberal” and “conservative” were both used to bludgeon the voters into toeing the party line. Even the word “patriotic” got sullied by candidates and their handlers, all in an effort to win the electorate’s hearts and minds. Prejudices creep silently into conversations if one isn’t aware of their words, too. That’s why it is so important to weigh what you say, since you can’t un-say things. You can pull the nail out of the board, but the hole still remains.
So what do you do if you are trying not to pigeon-hole yourself and others into a narrow little box? It’s actually very simple, yet extremely difficult at the same time: you have to take the time to actually listen. I know, I know, this is a tall order for today’s sound-bite generation, but even 30 seconds is asking a lot of some folks, let alone 30 minutes. It’s undeniable that the more our lives speed up, the greater the need to slow down at times. That’s why I personally have carved out one night each week just for me. Sometimes it’s spent with family, playing games or enjoying an outing together, other times it’s with friends, and still others, my most treasured times, it’s spent in a nice hot tub filled with Epsom Salts and orange peels.
Looking through your heart instead of your eyes is another way to get around the label game. After all, the executives at Enron looked great on paper and even more impressive in person with their designer suits and elegant homes, but their hearts were shriveled and lifeless, polluted with selfish desires for their personal gain. Years of being in sales positions taught me that some co-workers would gladly stab you in the back just for a couple of bucks. Look in the mirror, and if you see that person staring back, perhaps it’s time for some personal introspection. No one needs that kind of negative energy polluting their environment.
At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter if people think I’m a Realtor, a Feng Shui consultant, or a glow-in-the-dark alien from the planet Krelzop. I know who I am, and I’m happy to share that with anyone who is interested. Hello, my name is Beverly. Would you like to get to know each other over some tea? My treat!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Fat Lady Has Sung!
Oh, I am so happy that the elections are over! It's even better that my candidate of choice won! I am thrilled for the prospect of having a highly educated man in office for a change. I am also extremely grateful for the excellent choices of people that he will surround himself with. I am encouraged by the causes that his wife will pursue, and will keep them all in a protective bubble in my mind. Positive thinking can do wonders, and I am finding myself correcting a lot of naysayers and doom-n-gloomers again. It's unfortunate that so many people are focusing on what didn't happen and what might happen instead of being grateful to be a part of this historic event.
I am, however, exceedingly grateful for the excellent Secret Service contingent that has been charged with the Obama's safety!
Now, time to wear purple!
I am, however, exceedingly grateful for the excellent Secret Service contingent that has been charged with the Obama's safety!
Now, time to wear purple!
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