Author Archives: pujakins

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About pujakins

I am a poet and teacher of meditation, with a fondness for words and a husband I love dearly. I write a regular column in my local newspaper and another on the internet. My hope, both in my life and in my writing is to encourage people to see things in way that will help them to live happier, healthier lives.

Heartwings Love Notes 2055 Probably Fraud

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Heartwings says, “Telephones have evolved, but they do still do the same thing.”

Cell phones have grown to be the norm, these days, rather than the exception. Over the past twenty or so years they have grown in use until now they are ubiquitous. I remember years ago thinking a man jabbering away as he walked down the sidewalk, was talking aloud to himself—and of course he was using one of those phones with a microphone near his mouth. Many people walk along looking at their cell phones, ignoring the world around them. I was once involved in an accident with a woman who was looking at hers while she was driving.

Like all those in my age category, I grew up with a single home telephone. As in most homes, the phone sat on a table, in the hall or somewhere central. Often it was in a kind of booth, a small room with a door beneath the stairs to a second floor. Wherever it was located, it wasn’t detachable nor did it do more than receive and transmit calls. In those days, our family telephone number had only three digits; the one my great aunt was assigned had two. Perhaps she got it back when the phone first went into use. I never thought to ask.

Then, when you picked up the handset, a voice—usually that of a woman, said, “Number please.” You could have a discussion with the operator, or even get advice. If you needed a number, you said, “Information, please.” There was no dial tone, or even a dial, for that matter. Nor did anyone get a spam call. Actually, spam hadn’t been created yet. That was a product of WWII. Long distance, meaning outside the local area was charged by the minute, and could be very expensive.

Many people have given up their land lines in favor of exclusive cell phone use. I’ve resisted this for several reasons. Though we do have cell phones, we still have a land line, of course the phone itself is mobile. I prefer land line reliability over the capriciousness of a cell phone.as well as the comfort of the handset. Aside from how much more comfortable the handset is to hold, it doesn’t heat up over time, as a cell phone does. Of course, this also means we get lots of spam calls. At our request to a helpful number, some spam calls we receive, though not all, are blocked. This results in our getting only a single ring, then silence.

There is another aspect to the land line that keeps me using it: a kind of of entertainment in the voice that delivers its message when it rings: most of our land line telephone calls are identified by a robot, a mechanical voice that calls out their source. The mispronunciations are almost always amusing. They also convey information. We have discovered that spam is easily identified by the MA ending, mispronounced ma or as whatever the state is. Best of all is the one that always makes me wonder how the phone knows, and it is certainly my favorite: “probably fraud.”  

Struggles and Struggling by Tasha Halpert

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Heartwings Love Notes

Heartwings says, “How we frame our experiences can help them help us grow.”

I participate in an internet group of people who deal with being in some way disabled. The chief experience they share is blindness. I have great admiration for the positive attitudes I’ve encountered among this group, and most particularly those of their founder and leader Patty Fletcher. She asked me to contribute some writing about my experiences with Parkinson’s and the disabilities I cope with.

There is a saying to the effect that if all of us were to hang our troubles on a tree, rather than exchange them, each would take back their own. I have only admiration for how others cope with being without sight. My Parkinson’s, a neurological condition, presents me with extreme slowness and considerable weakness. My hands are slow and rather clumsy; I can no longer sew and dealing with buttons is too challenging. My writing dwindles as I try to form the words. I tire easily, have balance issues, and walk bent over.

Coping with these conditions, at least for me, revolves around not feeling I need to try to do more or do better than I am able at the time. Some days are better, some worse. Making comparisons between the present and the past is negative, creating even more frustration than I already experience. I often underestimate how much time anything will take me and end up being late. Of course, I fear looking awkward or pitiable, although currently I do not shake and tremble as many with this condition do. That can change.

  At least at this time my mind remains clear, apparently unaffected except for some forgetfulness. I’d be surprised if I wasn’t somewhat so at my age. I feel blessed for that, and for the help I receive from my dear husband and the Elder Services available to me. My mother started losing her mental focus in her 70’s, and lost much of it by the age I am now—I’ll be 90 this fall.

My current best coping mechanism is to see my condition as graduate school, working on a Master’s in patience and detachment, enhancing my ability to keep on keeping on. I struggle with my attempts to maintain my equilibrium keeping my mind on the present and ignoring thoughts of what I was once able to do. Comparisons with the past have little to no use when it comes to making progress; avoiding that keeps me focused on what I am able to accomplish.

Fish for Dinner

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Heartwings Love Notes:   Fish for Dinner

by Tasha Halpert

Heartwings says, “There are good reasons to enjoy eating fish, regardless when.”

My dear late mother was usually faithful to her Catholic upbringing and observant of its rules. She was aware that eating fish on Fridays was what good Catholics did. So we did, often on Fridays.  That was, of course, one of the rules. Her fear of the wrath of God for disobedience, was real, but did not extend to this most minor of transgressions if she didn’t happen to have fish on hand.

 When it came to us children, she was one to invoke the fear of God in us for our transgressions, large or small. “God will punish you if…” was often on her tongue when some misbehavior was in question or perhaps in evidence. The nature of God’s punishment was left unspoken, so I was never sure what that might be.

On the other hand, there were punishments she herself imposed. Her chief one for me was my having to sit on the piano stool for anywhere from 15 minutes to an hour, after being “put on silence.” For major transgressions there was also the application of the less frequent but more physically painful back of the old fashioned wooden hairbrush to the rear end. Physical punishment has gone out of style these days. Depriving children of cell phones may have replaced it—a different sort of pain.

Eating fish, however, is still in style whenever it is eaten. For some, this recipe could be useful for the season of Lent, for anyone it’s a good all around the year way to cook fish. If you are or wish to be cooking dairy free, use coconut milk, not the kind that comes in cans, but that which is unflavored and on the shelf in cartons or the ‘fridge.  My daughter remembers that years ago I used to use regular milk. I never bought fat free.

For a family of four, depending on appetites and preferences, plan on one and one half pounds of cod or haddock, or other firm white thick fish. Place it in a shallow baking dish and pour around a cup of milk over it to fully surround the fish. Bake at 350 around 25 to 35 minutes depending on the thickness of the fish. Fish is done when it flakes easily at the touch of a fork. Now or prior to start of cooking, as desired add seasonings such as thyme, tarragon, or your choice, salt, pepper, or garlic ground or powdered.  Serve with one or two vegetables (example: orange squash and green beans) for color and texture variety.

Equinox Melody

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Listen,

the life within

sings its way

out of its cold shell.

Listen,

sounds of spring

blend into a song

of life‘s beginnings.

Listen,

let your ears attune

the notes everywhere

blend into one.

Listen,

Goddess’ songs whisper.

As they begin to waken life,

their melodies gather as one.

Listen

learn the words,

ancient and lovely,

repeat them with joy.

Listen,

join in the chorus,

help the bright blossoms,

bloom into being.

Thanksgiving Nostalgia

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Thanksgiving is a great time to remember past gatherings. I certainly have plenty of memories from my past, filled as it is with many years of living. Those from my childhood are even more vivid than those from the more recent past. It seems odd to me, however, perhaps that is because they made more of an impression to a child.

As a very young child of five or six I enjoyed playing with the unique to me toys at Great Aunt Alice’s. She had a wooden truck loaded with carved alphabet blocks. I remember setting it out on the lovely thick, white and red Persian carpet in the big living room downstairs.

 At some point we must have moved upstairs to a smaller room where I remember sitting in the recessed window seat that overlooked the lawn and the huge old apple tree. There the grownups chatted and drank a pre-dinner cocktail and perhaps had a cigarette from the wooden box on the coffee table while I read my latest library book.

As a child of course I didn’t know this, but later I was told a non-family member, was always invited to these gatherings to help make sure everyone behaved in a kindly, courteous way—was on their best behavior, so to speak. I believe the invitee was probably a friend of Aunt Alice’s. Their names and faces do not stick in my memory.

Tales from the past were shared. One I recall was of my grandmother, Nonny. She spoke of a time when as a child she discovered the cooked bird sitting waiting to be served and tore off all the skin . She ate it before anyone caught her. Later in time that tale was a great source of merriment.

I remember being given a taste of wine or champagne at around the age of twelve. This was my father’s idea, which was not seconded by my mother. More vivid in my mind is the shallow, footed silver dish—there were two, one at each end of the table, filled with chocolates from a box. I was allowed to have some after dinner, but no more than two if even that many.

I was eight plus years older than my sister, and twelve and fourteen years older than my two brothers. I don’t have any distinct memories of my siblings attendance at these dinners; I do recall bringing my two oldest to them, though these dinners ended before their brothers were born. I’m happy my older daughters too have their recollections of them.

I am very thankful for these and other memories. they provide me with a precious reminder of a very different kind of lifestyle. The new ones of the present time bring different faces to the table, which is in a different room, yet equally laden and surrounded with smiles. Memories are an important part of the Thanksgiving feast. They provide a taste of the past brought into the present for all to share.

May you have precious memories to share in years to come.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Though I have less time to write these days, I welcome your responses and hope always to reply to any comments, questions, or suggestions you may make.

A Gratitude Meditation

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To be thankful is to acknowledge the gift of the blessing bestowed by whatever circumstance or opportunity with which you are acquainted or is upon you. We do not always recognize a blessing when first it comes. We may need to learn what it brings before we can acknowledge it for what it is. An attitude of gratitude is a great help for this. You can use it as a lens through which to view whatever blessings each day brings to you.

Begin the meditation with a focus on your breathing—no need to do any special rhythm, just breathe normally or in the way you prefer. Once you feel relaxed, peaceful, and clear, begin by imagining yourself standing at a window, looking out at a beautiful tree. You may envision it clothed in leaves, green or golden, or with naked branches. Reach out to it and say, “Than you, lovely tree for the grace of your presence.

Feel the sense of gratitude blossom in your heart as you gaze. It may be a tree you remember, one you imagine, or one you see often. Allow the feeling to fade and replace the image of the tree with one of someone you hold dear. Once again, allow the feeling to fill you. You may now change it and add a symbol of an experience or place you hold dear and do the same.

 Now call forth the image or name of someone with whom you have struggled but have forgiven or need to, and once again, express gratitude for what was gained from the experience. You may then of course substitute an experience of difficulty for an individual, as above. Now when you have concluded all the examples, say this invocation: I give thanks for all the blessings in my life. I ask that I may live with gratitude in my heart and in my eyes, each and every day, Amen, may it be so. Take a deep breath and return to the day.                      

                                                                                         Tasha Halpert

Heartwings Love Notes 2054: Too Many Choices

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Heartwings says, “When the eyes are dazzled, it is difficult to see clearly.”

The other day I stood bedazzled looking at the stacks of breakfast cereal boxes in my local supermarket. Many of the names on the boxes were unfamiliar to me; most of them seemed to contain sweet tasting stuff and were filled with sugar and artificial color or chocolate. They all advertised themselves as being healthy, good for you, filled with nutritional ingredients. These were listed on the boxes with chemical names that stretched along the side panel.

Buried within these shelves were the boxes of Corn Flakes, Wheaties, and Cherri Oats I used to give my children and even eat myself on occasion. They were overwhelmingly in the minority. Candy and cookies for breakfast? Not my cup of tea; however, judging by the quantity of sweet stuff, the choice of many. Our addiction to sugar begins at an early age. Some sugar is good for you, preferably in small amounts. Too much is not.

There is little to no nutritional value is sugar, however, it does play an important role in our digestive system. It provides quick energy. A handful of grapes, however, is a lot better than a candy bar, and does have nutritional benefits as well as sugar. Still, you can’t carry fruit around in your pocket for quick consumption. There are also “good” candy bars that serve a healthy purpose as snacks. Yet still it can be difficult to spot them amidst the less healthy ones so prominently available.

Discovering what you need amidst the plethora of offerings can be daunting. I remembered something as I gazed at the boxes of cereal. Some years ago, Stephen and I had an opportunity to visit Denmark in the spring. We stayed in the seasonal, summer home of our sponsor’s friend and did much of our own cooking. We shopped at the local market, which carried all of the necessities and none of the excesses of an American supermarket. How amazing to find a few kinds of cereal or one kind of a canned item. How refreshing!

Shopping took a lot less time then as well. I would be happy not to have to trudge up, down and around the many aisles of endless food sorts as I do now. I’m lucky not to have to shop in a super-sized supermarket. As it is I come home exhausted from a grocery run. I fail to understand why there needs to be so many brands or so much of the same thing on the shelves I must walk through. Of course, I suppose it is good exercise.

Bigness is everywhere. Have you noticed how large the delivery trucks have become? I wonder how they get around on some of New England’s country roads. Still, I must make the best of things, think of shopping as an exercise in discernment, and read each list of ingredients to make sure I am getting the best nutrition I can.

Heartwings 2053: I Would if I Could

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Heartwings says, “Expectations can be unrealistic.”

I used to be able… These days these words echo in my mind far too many times. Frustrating? I don’t fault myself for what I cannot accomplish in the time I have; I do, however, regret it. For instance, I have not written a column since mid-September. This is something new for me.

It is not for lack of inspiration. In fact, I have three potential column titles posted in a note on my computer screen, and this isn’t even one of them. Nor is it because I’m tired of writing, far from it. It’s been my joy for a long time, and still is. No, it is because I have not taken the time or made writing a top priority. That is the bottom line. What to do? Simple answer: cut back.

I once wrote my columns weekly. Year in and year out I wrote a new one, very occasionally going back to pull up an old one and revise it a little. Until fairly recently they were in the Grafton News. They were finally dropped as a result of editorial policy. Now I have no deadline and less incentive to produce. I do love to write; however, needs must take precedence over pleasure.

Three meals a day have to be planned and cooked. While Stephen would eat out at least once a day, this practical person never would. Even if my pocketbook could handle that, my digestion could not. Then there’s laundry, tidying, and so forth. No ned to bore you, dear reader, with the details. Worse, my emails pile up horribly. I could handle all this once, to be sure, and therein lies the rub.

Not only must I adjust my expectations, I must also eliminate or at least cut back on my activities. I always answer every personal email response that readers send me. People are very important to me. Then too I enjoy passing on articles of interest, not to mention reading them myself. And I do appreciate any of readers’ kind responses. I post the columns on Facebook as well as on my blog.

Facebook, too needs attending to. I enjoy thanking people for their nice comments as well as responding to others’ thoughts. Perhaps I need to give up doing all that responding. Maybe I need to stop reading the intriguing daily informational columns like the History one…yet they do give me pleasure. If my readers have any suggestions, I would welcome them.

Having Parkinson’s means I will need three or four times as long to do anything I used to do, whether it’s making a sandwich or writing and posting my blog. When I can at least do away with any expectations it does make me feel better. I try to pat myself on the back for what I can do and ignore my regrets. You dear reader will see less of me, however I will stay with what I can do and keep you posted.

May you be happy with your accomplishments.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Please write!

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.

A Poem for the Season

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 Autumn Images
On lush autumn roadsides
verdant vines and straggling weeds
stretch greedily toward the sun.

Seeking ants
scurry crumbs to the hoard
harvesters store root and grain against the cold.

Hurry, hurry, to and fro;
accumulate, be ready for lack
grasp while you can.

Hunger is in the air
bearing open mouths gulping,
paws, claws reaching, seeking more.

Travel the autumn roads slowly
beauty fills the eye
satisfying need and hunger for a while.   Tasha Halpert

Heartwings Love Notes 2052 The Three Bite Rule

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Heartwings says, “A little can be as much as a lot.”

As a child I was taught to finish everything on my plate. This was often said to me as I dawdled over what I didn’t like to eat, like liver. “It’s good for you, now finish your…” or “the little children starving in (India, China or somewhere far away) would be so happy to have this.” No doubt many of my readers heard some variation of these words.

What we hear as children often becomes gospel to us as adults. The adult results from “finish your plate” may be overweight, or even eating disorders. It is also difficult for us to overcome our childhood anathemas. Mine was boiled eggs. It took me years to get over my original dislike of them. I never did that to my children. I did, however have a “three bite rule.”

At any meal, both family members, as well as any guests present, had to take at least three bites of everything offered. This did not seem to cause any problems in so far as I could see, and it did result in some new likes, a plus to be sure.

Eating habits are something we acquire and can be changed, though with a conscious effort. Sometimes it doesn’t matter, although I believe that my husband, who actually likes the taste of liver, wishes I would change how I feel about it. This is difficult for me because I used to cut it up as small as I could and swallow each piece without chewing it, as though it were a pill.

Although my mother was not enthusiastic about sweets, and we seldom even had candy except on holidays, I have always been prone to enjoying them whenever I had access to any. Come to think of it, maybe that was why! Nevertheless, I had to learn to curb my predilection for sugar, first because of weight gain and later for diabetes.

One of the most helpful methods I ever found was contained in a book whose author and title are lost to my memory. It was called the three bite rule, and it consisted of limiting any sweet or dessert to three bites. To be sure, it does require a certain amount of self-discipline.  I have had to develop this anyway for various reasons, and am still working on it. That said, I do advocate this method of being able to enjoy the pleasure of sweets without penalty.

I have also discovered that to go beyond the limit of three bites does not necessarily bring more pleasure and that the limit of three actually gives me the most pleasure to be had. Once this limit is reached, at lease as far as I can tell, the sensation of the sweet taste begins to diminish. This is especially true with my favorite dessert and treat, ice cream. Try it if you like and see for yourself.

May you discover ways to live with your self-imposed limits.

Blessings and Best Regards, Tasha Halpert

PS Do you have experiences or suggestions to share? I’d love to hear your comments. Please make my day; write to me at tashahal@gmail.com.

A poet and writer, I publish a free weekly blog, Heartwings Love Notes for a Joyous Life. My Books: Up to my Neck in Lemons, and Heartwings, Love Notes for a Joyous Life are available on Amazon. My latest publication available there is my first chapbook, Poems and Prayers, and I have two more in preparation. You can sign up for my blog at http://tashasperspective.com.