Category Archives: Challenges

Heartwings Love Notes 2031: The Virtue of Small Tasks

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Heartwings says, “Where you put your focus is vital to your success.”

 My mother used to tell me she enjoyed hanging out the laundry because when she finished doing so, she felt as though she had accomplished something. It gave her a feeling of satisfaction. At the time I was buried in tasks built around mothering my five very active, very creative children and was happy to have an electric dryer to do the work for me.

These days after many years of hanging the laundry out on the various clotheslines or racks in the different places I’ve lived, I again rely on a dryer, though for different reasons. Due to my Parkinson’s’, the time it takes me to accomplish anything has quadrupled, or nearly so, depending on the task.

I can’t do much about this. There is truth in that half humorous Pennsylvania Dutch saying, “The faster I go, the behinder I get.” In other words, when I try to hurry what I am doing, I make foolish errors or mess up in some way that delays me even more. Sometimes I feel like the adolescent with poor proprioception that I once was, who used to drop things, bump into them, or stumble over whatever got in my way. Nowadays there is a word for that condition, back then I was said to be clumsy.

Instead, I try to bring my attention to whatever I am attempting. It helps me when instead of allowing myself to be distracted, I focus on that and that alone. However, what I find to be the most useful are the small, daily chores I once hurried through in order to “get things done.”

I have made peace with tomorrow, recognizing that unless there is a hard and fast deadline, most things can be delayed without problems or harm. In addition, I get training in letting go of the ego satisfaction I used to derive from being efficient. The difficulty with ego satisfaction is that it’s distracting and not necessarily helpful.When I seek satisfaction as a goal, instead of a focus on accomplishing the task, it really does take away from my ability to function efficiently.

In trying to satisfy my ego, I’m not as able to pursue the best way to get something done. It’s easy to miss what works best when you are looking for what feels good to you. I’ve also noticed that these days, for many, faster seems to equate to better. No craftsperson worth her or his salt feels that way. I am reminded of the film The Karate Kid about the martial arts student whose teacher instructed him, “Wax on, wax off” as he worked on a car.

There is also the saying, “Chop wood, carry water,” a Buddhist perspective in reference to every day accomplishments. It’s all really about doing what is there to be done, the best way you can. Small tasks done with loving attention are as worthwhile as great accomplishments, however they are done.

May you find joy in whatever task you are pursuing.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

P.S. Do you have any hints or helps along these lines? I can always use good ones, and I so enjoy hearing from readers. Reach out to me at Tashahal@gmail.com, and sign up for more Love Notes at https://tashasperspective.com/Pujakins.  

Your Way or My Way

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Heartwings Love Notes 1058 Your Way or My Way?

Heartwings says, “Deciding which way can be something to ponder.”

Every relationship has its conundrums. Some are fraught with contention, others are not, yet all provide opportunities for participants to learn and grow. For instance, I was brought up to be tidy. I didn’t used to be as a child; are there any children who are naturally so? As of yet, I haven’t heard of any. Some children who are taught to be neat learn to like it, others do not, of course, yet all will one day, most likely find themselves contending with the opposite of their preference.

For instance, I like my bureau drawers to be tidy so I can see what is in them when I want to choose my clothes for the next day. Being fuzzy of mind when I wake up, I prefer not to make any unnecessary decisions. Believing this to be a desirable state for bureau drawers, I used to make sure Stephen’s bureau was tidy too. Toward that end I would periodically refold and replace his sweaters and tee shirts until his bureau drawers were all organized. One day it occurred to me that he didn’t seem to want to keep them this way, and I stopped. He never complained.

I am grateful that he uses our hat rack/clothes pole to hang up his clothing. The fact that it tends to pile up there is none of my concern, or so I have come to understand. What is important for me to remember is that his way and my way do not necessarily have to coincide.  As long as his clothing, no matter how much, is not draped over the furniture or piled on the floor, I’m happy. The decisions that come from preferences are different from those that have to do with circumstances.

We grow up accumulating preferences, habits, and ways to do things. Then we find others differ. This might be an issue or it might not. What matters is that respect and support need to be part of a healthy relationship. Stephen respects my desire not to trip over his garments and I respect his desire to have his drawers the way they are. I support him by not insisting his clothes be hug up in the closet, and he does the same when he does the dishes or hangs the indoor laundry that doesn’t go in the dryer.

Respect for one another’s beliefs as well as habits is also vital within all relationships. The divisions within our current world view are not healthy for our society because all too often there is a lack of that respect. When we support one another’s ways, it may be possible for us to live in peace. May it one day be so.

May you find good ways to resolve personal differences.

Blessings and best regards, Tasha Halpert

PS, please write to me with any comments or suggestions. It is my great joy to hear from readers with their thoughts and opinions. Please do. My email is tashahal@gmail.com. For more Love Notes, visit me at my web site at http://www.heartwingsandfriends.com

The Value of Everyday Tasks

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Bridge of flowers poppies, bigI used to chafe sometimes at my lists of things to do—sigh and say to myself, oh if I only had more free time to write poetry or organize, edit and tidy up my writings. It seemed to me that what I thought of as my daily or sometimes weekly drudgery took too much of my precious time and energy and I resented it.  However, that was before the onset of the pandemic and the seeming disintegration of all that has constituted daily life and living, both personal and for my country.

Now, strangely, the things that make up my lists–my duties, have become precious to me. While Stephen does his part in keeping up with the daily chores, I no longer mind doing them. They help me cope. The news these days is so terrifying that it does not bear thinking about. The future is cloudy at best. As I get older each tweak of an ache or pain could mean some kind of incipient illness. Life is fraught with pitfalls holding deep despair. When I focus on the feeling of the hot water on my hands as I scrub the egg from our breakfast plates, I am greatly comforted.

It’s such a little thing to make sure I get all of the egg off the plate, yet the task needs my full attention. There are other things that function the same way. Doing the laundry or watering my plants, for instance. Though I no longer have a garden to tend, I still have plants, and they require my full attention. Actually, my email is sort of like a garden these days. There are plenty of weeds to be removed: ads for goods I might have bought at one time; people urging me to vote for or contribute to a candidate; notices from organizations seeking my support—the list is endless and so are these pernicious, persistent weeds.

Then there are the garden’s plants to be watered and sometimes fertilized: my friends far and near need to be emailed and responded to. There are helpful articles or other information to be forwarded for friends’ edification and/or enjoyment. There is news to be shared of each other’s activities, and of course doctor’s notices to be reviewed. Once again, the list goes on. A garden of any sort needs daily attention. If I leave it for too long, it piles up to an impossible extent, and I can’t tend it properly.

As I move through my day, I keep my focus on these humble chores. They act as a kind of shield against all that I cannot control or do anything about, or that which has not happened and indeed may not. Again and again rather than think about an unknown, possibly dire future, I return my thoughts to what comes next on my list of tasks. And from time to time I gaze out a window at the lovely sunlight filtering through the green leaves and the pretty blue sky above, or even the rain, and I give thanks that in this present moment, all is well.

 

 

How Is Everyone Doing?

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Gianni at the tableI do not remember much changing in my life when I was growing up. My parents living room furniture never altered. The house looked the same except that once after years of my mother’s complaints it was painted red. We never moved; my father kept the same job, the list goes on. World War II brought certain kinds of changes, yet nothing close to what we have recently gone through with the advent of Covid 19.

This experience could be called a kind of war, yet the conflict is not between peoples but between all of us and an invisible, yet deadly foe. The rapid changes we have all endured have been part of the battle, weapons to fight this insidious and life-threatening enemy. The normal days we have all been living have been whisked away, replaced by a new normal that includes masks, frequent hand washing, and social distancing.

Some are eager to get back to “normal,” as they think of pre Covid 19 times. What that means for some is one thing, for another, something different. Yet whatever the old normal was, it’s differs greatly from whatever is happening now. Perhaps we have been given an opportunity to look more closely at what has been and make a decision as to whether or not we want to return—assuming we can, or whether we wish to create something new and different with our lives.

The old normal for Stephen and me held trips to the library, now of course closed. It held occasional visits to a movie theater, Dinners or other meals at a variety of restaurants, checking out discount stores, time spent in a favorite thrift store and Saturday yard sales. Most likely we will resume some if not all of these activities, but it may be that we will not do so with the same frequency. For us, it has been rather nice just being home. It’s peaceful. In addition, we have saved a lot of money on gas, as well as on restaurant meals and the acquisition of fun but superfluous items.

Staying out of stores unless we are buying necessities does not seem to me to be difficult to continue doing. If I really wanted to, I could shop on line although I don’t. Shopping has never been important for me unless it is for something I really need or want. For many people it is a form of entertainment. I’d rather read a book or watch a funny DVD from our collection. Too, creative writing—poetry and prose forms an important part of how Stephen and I like to spend our time. That is not going to change, nor is the fun we have cooking together.

A everyone knows, how we as a people spend our time has changed as a result of Covid 19. Many will have discovered the joy of hobbies, of passing time together as a family, and of course, being outdoors in nature. These are healthier pursuits than shopping. Sedentary activities like watching sports are not as good for us as playing them. It is said that it takes forty days to change a habit. We’ve had more time than that to make positive changes in our daily lives. May that have been enough.

 

The Blame Game

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Roots and light When I was growing up it was my responsibility to care for the chickens. In the winter what that meant was carrying a heavy bucket of water from our house the thirty or more yards to their coop. The spring I was twelve the wetlands near the coop flooded and there was plenty of water right there. I took advantage of it. However, something then happened to the chickens. They began dying. Apparently, they had somehow caught a disease.

My parents called me into the living room. They were sitting on the sofa looking stern. They asked me if I had been doing anything different for the chickens. “No,” I lied. Then they faced me with the evidence. My great aunt’s gardener had seen me getting the water from the swamp. Uh oh! I don’t remember my punishment—probably a suspension of my allowance. Sadly, I didn’t really learn my lesson then, though eventually I did. I was often too fearful of the consequences to tell the truth.

Many if not most of us are. The vase is broken, the favorite toy ruined, the car dented and we hear: “He/she made me…”  or “I couldn’t help it.” Heard that before? This familiar copout is often every child’s first response—except perhaps for, “I didn’t do it.” How do we teach children to take responsibility for their actions? It isn’t easy and every parent has his or her idea how best to accomplish this. Sometimes they manage to make that happen, and the child grows up to be a responsible adult.

However all too often even as adults we are reluctant to take the responsibility we need to for our own actions. We may be afraid of the results when someone finds out. I know often I was, or we may not want someone to think ill of us, as in “how could I be so stupid as to make that mistake?”  There are as many reasons as there are situations. The bottom line is that we do not like to admit to being ill advised, ignorant, or just plain absent of mind.

Blaming is something many do when they want to get out of a situation where they feel trapped or one that will lower their value in another’s eyes and mind. The problem with playing the blame game is that not only is it dishonest, it is also unkind to the person or persons we may be blaming for our mistake.

I learned to own up to my responsibility only as an adult. My husband Stephen was actually the one to help me to do this. He would not allow me to get away with evading it, and he would make sure I was ultimately honest. I’ve learned that honesty really is the best policy when it comes to admitting to wrongdoing. Feelings of guilt are thereby avoided as well as other consequences that may arise when and if the truth emerges—and all too often it will.

 

Competition Versus Cooperation

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chickens.jpgI’ve never been a competitive person. Usually a sense of competition kicks in around the age of four, when a child gains a clear understanding of “me” and “mine.” Even then there is often a desire to share unless the child is surrounded by competitors. When I was growing up competition was the rule and the idea of a game that required cooperation instead was unknown. I did not enjoy the competitive world I grew up in.

Even as a child I disliked competition in sports. One reason was that I wasn’t very agile or well-coordinated and thus most often chosen last for any team. Another was that it made me sad that someone had to lose in order for someone to win. I played board games yet not with a keen desire to win. For instance, Parcheesi which was a popular game when I was young was best won by blocking opponents and rendering them helpless. I never enjoyed doing that. For me, that was like punishing someone or hurting them.

My mother was a fierce competitor. She loved games and was good at them. She played Bridge and Mahjong with her friends. With me she played card games and Chinese checkers, which she played without mercy, making no allowances for youth or inexperience. She played to win, regardless. As a result, I did learn to play a good game of Chinese checkers. Fast forward to my adulthood. I still resisted competition when I could. Unfortunately, my children invariably made me enter the tired Mothers Race at the fourth of July games. in the town where they grew up. I came in last no matter how hard I tried.

My children’s father was very competitive. He encouraged the children while they were still quite young to play on teams and to compete. He even started a girls’ softball league in the town where we lived.  My daughters and then my sons all strove to do well in order to make him happy. He cherished their ribbons and trophies and often coached their various teams to victory. As a loyal mom I used to attend their tennis matches and their and baseball and ice hockey games, cheering along with the other parents and trembling for fear they would lose and be sad.

Regardless whether or not they won, I was glad whenever the games or matches were over. Certainly, my children learned much from their years playing tennis, hockey, and baseball. They had fun and met other children they would not have met otherwise. I am not regretful for them, though I do feel there are other ways to have fun that they might have enjoyed as well. I was too busy keeping up with household and child caring duties to do much about that.

Competition is said to be a good learning experience for children. Today even little ones barely out of toddler years are put on teams to play at various sports. For competitive people that’s good. For those like me, not so much. On the other hand, it is possible to play games in the spirit of cooperation. Team efforts in sports are only one way. There is also a cooperative way to play many games, and that is to play to see how high the score can rise. Scrabble can be played that way, and I know that’s how I would prefer to play it.

The Importance of Self Acknowledgement

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Fall Dandelions

It can be frustrating when you cannot do something that you have done all your life with ease. I’ve been putting on my own clothes for most of my life. However for the first two weeks I was home from the hospital, I wore the same simple garment every day. It went over my head without effort and kept me adequately clothed. As time went on I could wear more elaborate clothing until finally I could pretty much dress myself in whatever I wished to wear, all except for my shoes and socks. That required more bending than I was capable of.

Shoes and socks seem simple, do they not? Everyone can manage them. I have a distinct memory of learning to tie my shoes as a child. I know I was still only three, because I was attending nursery school at the time. My memory is of bending over my shoes until I had learned to wind the shoelaces into bows that would keep them tied. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. In my mind I can see the bedroom I slept in with my caregiver and feel my sense of frustration as I tried over and over again to tie those laces until at last I succeeded. Then oh, how happy I felt. I can still remember that too.

Just recently I had another small victory. I was able to put on my left sock all by myself. To do that sounds so simple. Yet it was the final step since my hip replacement two months ago, in my being able to get myself entirely dressed without help. To be sure up until now Stephen has been ever so kind about assisting me. Yet regardless how kind someone helping you is, it is very appealing, at least to me, to be able to do something I have always been able to do, by myself once more.

My parents weren’t generous with their praise of my accomplishments. They always informed me I was supposed to do well. They were apt to say, “Now that was quite good, can you do better next time?” They thought this was how to encourage me to try harder or at least keep on trying. I, on the other hand, believe strongly in praise. My children’s father taught me this. No matter how wretchedly the children he coached performed, he found a way to say some encouraging words. His teams invariably did well and I think this was one of the main reasons.

Not many of us have a coach in life to praise us, so it is up to us to pat ourselves on the back when we need encouragement, and more importantly, when we need to be acknowledged. It is not only permissible but also important to take note of our personal victories, most especially to do so for ourselves. We need to feel good for ourselves, not because someone else has praised us. When we recognize our successes we can build on them with a sense of satisfaction. When we feel satisfied with our performance we do not need to seek praise elsewhere but instead can feel good and be happy because we know for ourselves that we have done our best.

Benefits and Liabilities of Aging

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Sunfloer bowed downWhen I was little my grandmother used to take me with her to visit her friends. Among them were two sisters who had never married but lived together in a pretty home with a nice porch. They used to give me cookies and cambric tea–milk, sugar and a wisp of tea in a delicate china cup. My own mother was physically strong and after my father passed on lived alone and drove herself between Florida and Maine even in her eighties.

These and many elders of my early years presented an image of healthy, hearty behavior. My grandmother used to do fancy dives into the swimming pool of the beach club she occasionally took me to. My great aunt played golf and tennis and had silver cups to show for it. I had teachers with white hair who were wise and good natured. My life has brought me many examples of vital elders who carried on their lives energetically.

Just recently I attended a small reunion for my high school classmates. I was impressed with their fortitude and vigor. As we visited together I enjoyed renewing my acquaintance with theses women with whom in our teens I had shared time, space, and teachers. It was quite special to be with my contemporaries. I found that even after all these years we still had much in common besides our age and the school we had attended.

The life paths we had taken had varied widely, yet we all shared a dedication to improving the world and being of help when needed. Born when we were, we had grown up with different mores and rules of behavior than those of today. As a result we have had to make many adjustments. When people do not grow with the changes that accumulate around them, they become bitter and crabby. It seemed to me that none of us had.

No doubt we all had our share of aches, pains and limitations. At our age some of that is to be expected. However I didn’t hear anyone complain about their health even though one of us used a walker and another had both vision and auditory issues of a serious nature. One of the blessings of age can be the ability to deal creatively with one’s limitations. Patience can come more easily when one has lived a long time.

The benefits of accumulated years are a kind of grace that can make up for the increasing changes that as we age limit activities, not to mention movement. Speaking for myself, I would say that patience tops the list of these benefits—not only patience with others but also patience with myself. In addition, being able to wait out a difficulty, the knowledge that time helps heal as well as facilitate, and the ability to listen to and soothe those who live with greater immediacy and impatience are some of the benefits I cherish as I grow on in years.

The Preciousness of Remembering

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When I was a child Little Tasha 4and death or even disaster was to be spoken of, someone would say, “Not in front of the children.” The subject would be changed or I would be told to go off and play so the adults could continue their discussion. Yet because we had animals, death and change were part of my life. I witnessed the drowning of baby ducks and the demise of baby chicks. It was hard when a dog got into my pet rabbits’ pen and maimed them. My aunt’s gardener had to–as I was told, “put them out of their suffering.” Death was no stranger to my childhood. I am neither uncomfortable with it nor afraid of it.

Still, it does have an effect. The recent passing of a dear friend has brought a sense of immediacy to my relationships, and prompted a renewed sense of attention to my way of thinking about life. She and I used to speak each morning except Sundays. More than once I said to Stephen, “One day the phone will not ring at 9:30 every day.” Then indeed that day did come. While I miss my friend, I know she is in a much more comfortable and happy place than she has been for some time. Though I do miss her calls I also rejoice for her.

I am happy to have pleasant memories of our time together. That is the saving grace of partings. It is also a reminder to focus when I am with a dear one and to be present in order to have something to remember. More and more as I get older I have come to realize that endings come whether we want them to or not. We have no way of knowing whether or not any given conversation, meeting or interaction with another may be our last. I do not say this because I have a morbid fear of endings but rather as a reminder that any time we spend with another may be significant.

When we are children we have no understanding of how it is that things change or perhaps end. That ignorance may even be important to children’s comfort and sense of security. Most adults grow accustomed to change and learn to flow with it. It may be an aspect of maturity in human beings to be able to do that. In my life there have been many changes I could never have anticipated. Being able to adapt to them has been crucial to my happiness. Developing a sense of detachment to an anticipated condition of permanence has been not only valuable but also essential.

When I was a child, I could buy an ice cream cone for a nickel. Now even the smallest one costs 50 times that. The decor in my parents’ living room changed once in my memory. Today many people redecorate frequently. Then divorce was rare, people stayed at the same job for most of their lives, I could go on and on about how it used to be. My point is that change is more than ever a constant in most lives. For our comfort it is important to be able to deal with all forms of change, whether of décor or of circumstances. When I make the time to focus my attention and to appreciate what is happening, whether with a relationship or an experience, I have much less regret when it ends.

Making Priorities and Cheering Deadlines

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Porch Icicles 3When my children were small it was easy for me to set priorities. First and foremost they were related to the needs involved in parenting. Children let you know when they must have something, whether it is changing, food or the toy they saw on TV. Sometimes they yell until they get it. Later on they can be more subtle yet any concerned parent can figure these things out sooner or later and if they do not they will find out eventually what is needed.

Now it is much more difficult for me to figure out my priorities, especially if there is not a deadline connected with the task. I looked up the definition of deadline. It is a printing term that was originally connected to the size and shape of the type the press was using. Anything that went beyond a certain limit was “dead.” Later the term was adopted by editors and related to time rather than type. I find deadlines to be very useful in forming priorities.

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to pay better attention to priorities. For instance, when something needs doing I need to do it in a timely manner and not put it off, only to discover that I have missed out or messed up in some way. One small example is coupons. They have dates on them; if I do not keep an eye on the dates they go by and the coupon is useless. No doubt many of my readers have the same issue.

I once read an article that suggested that when getting ready for a party one ought to put the most important things to do last because then they would surely get done. While is merit in that idea, and I have tried it for myself, what works for a party may not when it comes to everyday life. It’s been my experience that something I believed would take a certain amount of time actually took longer, and when I am working with a deadline that can be a problem to be dealt with.

On the other hand sometimes absent a deadline, it can be difficult to know what constitutes a priority. Vacuuming comes to mind, as does dusting. Of course if someone is coming over for a visit, cleaning and tidying become a priority. Then there is the email load. If I fail to answer an email sooner than later will there be a problem? It can be tricky to decide. Then there are the bills: Paying a bill involves a deadline and I hope not to put it somewhere I will forget about it and pass the deadline, thus accumulating interest or worse, a fine.

Nowadays I am thankful the Public Library sends out Internet reminders when a book is due. This is a great improvement on my having to remember the date it must be returned by. I can even look it up on line to do the renewal rather than make a phone call or perhaps drive to the library itself to do the renewal. The bottom line to my prioritizing is to rejoice for deadlines I have and make lists that will remind me to work on that which does not.