Author: jdavis

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, January 19, 2021

Life goes through its seasons like the weather. We never know what it would bring. Like today, it is a beautiful sunny but blustery day. I intensely dislike windy days when they coincide with garbage day. Ugh. What a mess! Basketball stands, recycle and garbage bins knocked down. I have never seen the wind so strong around here that it could blow down the Honey Bucket porta potty that my neighbor rented. We woke up to trash spewed all over the neighborhood. Luckily, this time, my next-door neighbor started using trash bags. Otherwise, that would have been a picnic for the birds. 

Life brings people into our lives, and life moves them along. It never matters what I think or what I want. It just happens when it happens. Months back, a friend shared that she would move from the bay area to Hawaii when she takes early retirement, and before her thought reached fruition, I was already mourning the loss of having her nearby. Last week, a few friends left Facebook because they had enough of the ugly explicit posts by those venting about current events. My heart ached with each loss reminding me that life is no longer as I knew it. I don’t like change. You’d think by now I’d be used to it. I don’t think I ever will. 

I hadn’t sobered from last week’s losses, but life keeps going with or without me. It has a job to do, and it never fails to show up for work. I was looking forward to a peaceful holiday weekend. Before the weekend arrived, I was busy deciding how I would spend this weekend. Would I get productive and address some projects, or would I take a day or two off and enjoy the long weekend? As it turned out, I didn’t have to bother with a decision. On Saturday, I learned of some friends resigning from their jobs and will be moving out of state. I was so not prepared for that news. It turned out that was only the appetizer. The next day, another couple of dear friends also announced their departure plans. Suddenly, my weekend was filled with a new angle of sadness, dread, mixed emotions, and plain mourning for what’s to come. You can imagine what I filled my weekend with, and there aren’t enough words to express everything that I’m feeling. Losing people has never been my strong suit. 

As solemn as this weekend was, it was an eye-opening experience, and I learned a valuable lesson from the recent episodes in my life story. I’m a survivor, and I deal with whatever comes my way. I will meet many people who will come into my world for a season, and at some point, they will move on. Like the Bible says in Ecclesiastes 3, there is a season for everything. I know this, but it took a while to accept that there is a reason why things happen when they do and why people come and go regardless. It’s good to form relationships and grow attached to people. That’s healthy. It becomes unhealthy if we grow so attached to them that we rely on their being here for us, and most likely, we will be disappointed. 

That was me. I counted on certain people being here for me, but in just a couple of years, God has taught me the act of letting go. I wasn’t a good student because I didn’t get the lesson that He was teaching me until now. I have been placing my trust in the wrong places. I was trusting people when I should have been trusting only God. I get it now. It’s not a person that will be here in my time of need, but people. God will place the people in my world at the right times. Just like the knocked down bins, they will get uprighted. God will make sure that that will happen when we need it because He knows everybody needs somebody.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, January 14, 2021

For some of us, it’s literally like brand spanking new. Like my father-in-law, who suffers from mild dementia and Alzheimer’s, each day is literally brand spanking new for him whether he likes it or not. For the rest of us, we can choose to live each day like it’s brand spanking new because every day is a new morning with a clean slate waiting for us to create a life well-lived. We get the same number of hours and the blessing to decide how to use them. 

Today, in remembrance of my father’s 19th death anniversary, I placed three bouquets, one from each of his daughters, at his gravesite. I have only loving memories of Daddy. I’m sad that he doesn’t get to decide how to spend his day anymore. 

Life is here for a flicker, but many don’t fully understand what that comment means. If they haven’t experienced a loss of some kind, it’s a hard concept to ponder. Being hypersensitive, I’ve understood this comment long before I experienced loss. Yet, not until I faced a second chance to live did I truly understand those words. Like every other human on this earth, I have days when I don’t spend my time well. That’s the beauty of each day. It presents an opportunity to do it right all over again. 

I wake up and do the same routine every day. Wake up, do my stretches, read my devotional, brush my teeth, wash, get myself together, collect my cup of coffee, and head to my writing desk. Same actions, but every day is a different day. If it’s sunny, my heart sings. If it’s gloomy, my heart sinks. I see or hear something on my newsfeed or timeline, in my email or text, and that impacts my attitude, feelings, and thoughts, making my day a brand spanking new one. Our minds, thoughts, and emotions are easily influenced. This revelation is a blessing in so many ways. 

Since my husband’s passing two years ago, I’ve managed to deal with my loss as positively as possible. I have my moments, but I live each day grateful for having had him in my life and grateful to be given a second chance to live my life fully for him and me. Yesterday afternoon I had a moment of weakness. It was surreal that he’s no longer here. It still feels like he’d walk in the door any moment now and say, “Hi, honey, I’m home,” but I choked up, realizing that’s never going to happen again even though it feels so real. The disparity between the actual reality and my reality ached in my core, and I wanted to open my chest and rip out the pain so that I wouldn’t feel it again. That wasn’t realistic, but I could write about it, and I vowed to do just that after my walk while the mood was heavy on my heart. Before I got to that, it was time to call my father-in-law. After the call, the mail arrived, and I retrieved it. As I came in the door, my friend Carol called, and we talked for half an hour before we both took care of dinner. After dinner, I remembered wanting to write, but the mood passed. I was sad that I missed the opportunity to record those feelings while they were fresh, but I was grateful that happy moments replaced the melancholy ones. 

Our minds are impressionable. We don’t have to harbor negative thoughts. We can live every day well if we choose to think positive thoughts and have the right attitude. Every day is a new day, even if we do the same things every day. It’s a brand spanking new day, and what’s old is new again.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, January 13, 2021

I feel the isolation from being sheltered in place this week. Is it just me, or is everybody else feeling it, too? I’ve been asking myself, what is it about this week? We’ve been in quarantine for ten months. I’ve managed to make the most of each day and turned negatives into positives, but this week feels harder for some reason. I rely on social media to stay connected with my peeps, but lately, friends seem to post less. I rely on the talking heads on TV programs for connection, inspiration, and updates on current events. My favorite programs either halted production thanks to the new, more contagious strain of Covid-19 wafting through SoCal, or they are still heavily covering the Capitol riots. Neither helps my demeanor.

Nothing is going on. Nobody’s going anywhere or doing anything; therefore, nobody has anything to say. Creating the domino effect of dwindling messaging and forget about the phone calls. Rats. This is simply awful, people! Toxic for a writer seeking inspiration for something, anything at all, to write about. What happened to the days of not so long ago when a friend pops into my day, and suddenly we’re having this brilliant conversation that inspires my day’s column? Oh, I miss you, friend, wherever you are!

It’s a two-way street. I admit I’m not pulling my weight. I go nowhere. I do nothing interesting that I could talk about, but I have a goal of sharing what little I could to help those struggling for a glimmer of positivity that would lift their spirits, even if only for a moment. I know I’m not alone. We’re all on the same boat, is what happened. The good thing about this is that I trust everybody is doing the same thing I am—stay out of trouble and not add to the problem. That’s excellent news and would help.

I am determined to have something positive to show for my day. Considering my limited options, and I wanted something uplifting to end my day with, so badly that I went with this cute little movie on UP TV called Hopeless Romantic. I trusted that this movie would be as far removed from reality as it could be, and I was right. It did not disappoint. It was a fun escape for a couple of hours, and it wasn’t your typical romance. It was an interesting story because you’d think the hopeless romantic would be the female, but in this story, it was the hopeless romantic guy. If nothing else, he had me rooting for him from the get-go. I had to see how it played out. 

The movie began with Matt going all out to set the perfect romantic stage for popping the question to his girlfriend. I mean, the guy is like every girl’s dream. He went all out, starting with a limo, tux, bouquet of red roses, reservation at a fine restaurant, and hiring a violinist. If only it ended with a yes, but then we wouldn’t have a story, would we?

 He sheltered in place for days, endlessly losing himself in romance DVD after DVD until he was inspired to get his life back on track. His game plan followed the romantic storylines in the DVDs he watched, stemming from moving on with his life, getting over his breakup, to winning his girl back. He talked his best friend, Liz, who was getting over a breakup of her own, into being his wingman on this journey. They brave the singles’ scene going to a bar to meet someone, to speed dating, and so on. When one day, his ex realized what a catch he was and wanted to get back together. He was overjoyed that his plan worked. 

He got his ex, whom he couldn’t live without, back, but something was still missing. They tried to make it work. Long story short, through the process of winning back his ex, Matt learned that he had been in love with the idea of “being in love,” which he had mistaken for being in love with his ex. When he did some soul searching, Matt realized he knew nothing about his ex and couldn’t lock down what it was he loved about her. He was definitely in love, but unexpectedly it was with his wingman, aka best friend, Liz, who he could effortlessly describe reason after reason after reason for loving her. Lucky for him, she returned his feelings. Aw, and all is well in my day again. I found something to smile about, which buys me time to solve the mystery of where is everybody?

A Moment in My Life – Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Today, I need a pick me up. Ooh, a tiramisu sounds delightful just about now. Alas, no tiramisu in my neck of the woods. Aw, excellent, the sun just came out. My day is beginning to feel better. It’s so peaceful in my neighborhood. I’m grateful for that. It would be perfect if I could shake this disheartening feeling that clings to me like static. The weight of the world churns in my gut. I turn the other cheek to all things politics. I love my friends. I respect everybody’s view. It breaks my heart when people push their opinions on others. It’s bad enough so much is going on that we can’t control, but respecting each other’s individualism is something we can. It seems every time I look on social media, something else unsettling is happening—too much, too soon. I haven’t gotten over the last episode yet. Just about now, reaching into the freezer for the tub of rocky road ice cream or the fridge for that unfinished piece of chocolate cake sounds plenty fine to me, but I have neither. Thinking about comfort food reminded me about sardines and custard pies. Not that they were, by any means, my comfort foods, but that came to mind, and I happen to have a light-hearted story about them to tell.

When I was a little girl of about eight, my parents took my year older sister with them to the diner that we owned, and they left me home to babysit my one-year-old sister. Don’t let my age fool you. Back in the days, we kids were the sitters. My mother would leave a loaf of white bread and a can of sardines out on the kitchen table for me to make sandwiches for our meals in their absence. After a few days of sardine sandwiches, any craving that I might have had for that menu item vanished for the next couple of decades. 

My sister and I went as far as pretending not to see the loaf of white bread and can of sardines on the table to avoid eating another sardine sandwich. I don’t remember what we ended up eating, but it wasn’t a sardine sandwich. 

Move forward a few decades, a friend invited me to her house for lunch, and she opened a can of sardines to add to her menu. I don’t remember anything about that meal except for the can of sardines. I hadn’t thought of that word, let alone eat sardines since I was a kid. At that time, sardines were still revolting to me. Fast forward another decade or so, I actually bought a can of sardines for a change of pace because I learned they are healthy for us. Who’d thunk it?

My father was a baker during our teen years, which meant leftover cakes and pies, never cookies, came home with Daddy. Mm, chocolate, and white sponge cake rocked my soul, and even though Daddy’s custard pie was to die for, one could only eat it so often. After a while, I couldn’t lay eyes on another custard pie for most of my adult years. About a decade ago, to my surprise, I suddenly had a craving for Daddy’s custard pie, but I had to make do with any old custard pie I could find. It was good enough to satisfy my craving. 

I never thought I’d touch sardines or ever crave custard pie again, but time does change things. I’m a living example of that. I enjoy a slice, not a whole, of custard pie every time I get a craving for it, and I’m a happy camper. This thought made me wonder, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could restore all that is wrong in the world to when it was right so we could be happy campers like me with my sardines and custard pies?

A Moment in My Life – Monday, January 11, 2021

A smile spread across my face as the sip of freshly brewed coffee filled me with warmth in the cool morning air, warming me from the inside out. I cup my hands around my Hilo Bistro mug, and the warmth tingled on the tips of my fingers and palms of my hands, warming me from the outside in. These little pleasures may seem small but make an effortless difference that can lift your spirits and miraculously make everything okay, if only for a moment.

A cup of coffee doesn’t make your troubles go away. It’s like a good friend who knows you better than you know yourself, who knows the right words you need to hear to redirect your thinking away from what was troubling you long enough for you to refocus your attitude. Life happens. It happens for a reason. It may not be the way we wanted or expected it to be, but it is what it is. Sometimes, there is nothing we can do about it. Worrying about it or being upset by it won’t make any difference in the slightest. 

A good cup of hot coffee is a better friend, who talks sense into you over your heartbreak than a glass of wine, who would only soothe you, letting you believe whatever you want until you forget your hurt when you pass out. 

I sipped my coffee and mulled over, feeling stupid while chastising myself for being naïve in believing the nameless celebrity’s inviting us to text him meant he’d read all his texts himself. I beat myself up for wasting my time composing that long text telling him how much his creative artistry inspired me. I took time and put much thought into that message. The corners of my lips shot upward as I hit send, only to have those corners droop when I immediately received an auto-reply instructing me to add my contact info to his directory. At that moment, my heart sank. I realized that it was an advertising scheme to gather contacts for his promotions. My first thought was my heartfelt message that was meant for his eyes ended up in the abyss, never seen by human eyes. I scolded myself for being way too old to expect such a juvenile outcome from somebody who knows me as a nobody. 

I kept sipping my coffee, and like a true friend, she reminded me that age has no bearing in life situations. We are human with emotions, needs, and desires. There is nothing wrong with that, and there is no shame in any of our feelings. We have personal expectations, and if they aren’t met, we are entitled to feel accordingly. With each sip, she made me stop beating myself up and feeling down. Instead, like the good friend that she is, she reminded me to chin up and that what I don’t know doesn’t necessarily mean things won’t work themselves out in the end. The outcome doesn’t necessarily mean that nobody would read those texts. It was more realistic that eventually, someone would address them, it’s just a matter of time, and my spirits lifted with each sip.  

I might not have any control over my life situations, but I can enjoy a good cup of coffee whenever I want. As I sip, I am comforted with its warmth, and my mind becomes clearer, and things don’t seem so hopeless. What changed? My attitude. A good satisfying coffee puts a smile on my face, warms my soul, lifts my spirit, and gives me a better perspective, which changes my attitude. In these times, when we can’t be with our buddies, a good cup of coffee is the next best thing to a good friend.  

A Moment in My Life – Friday, January 8, 2021

Have you ever tried to do the right thing by not doing something but eventually, your hand was forced to take action anyway? Two days after the first Shelter in Place order was mandated back in March 2020, all four blades fell off my garbage disposal. Great timing, right? The Coronavirus was too new and scary at that time, so I adhered to the stay-at-home order and avoided all non-essential activities. I took the disposal as a non-essential and held off replacing it until Covid-19 ended. 

It wasn’t easy reverting to the caveman days with no garbage disposal, but I stuck it out. It was rough and frustrating, but it became less cumbersome with each passing month as I acclimated to collecting food particles to prevent them from going down the drain. 

Once I got used to it, it wasn’t that bad. However, one cold evening in December, when I went out to dump the discards into the yard waste bin, a flurry of anger towards Covid-19 raced through me for a second as I was seriously missing having a functioning disposal and wished that I could replace it. It was a mindless wish that evaporated as soon as I returned to the warmth of my house.

On New Year’s Eve, I was getting ready to make dinner when my attention was diverted to a puddle of water on the floor in front of my dishwasher. I frantically wrung up the water before opening the dishwasher door to investigate and saw a pool of clear water at the bottom. Where did that water come from? Why was there a pool of water? I was mystified since I hadn’t run the dishwasher in a day or so, and I hadn’t been using the kitchen sink recently. What on earth could have justified the pool of water?

My first thought was that I took too long to replace the garbage disposal, and now the complications from the broken disposal came out to haunt me. My second thought was that I must have carelessly let food particles escape down the drain, and it was impacting my dishwasher. Until my friend, Jenni, suggested different things to check, all relating to the disposal, those were merely random thoughts as I ladled pitchersful and wrung towels full of water out of the dishwasher. What a task! 

I mopped up as much water as I could, but it wasn’t draining. Out of desperation, I took a chance and ran the rinse cycle in hopes of clearing the drain, and to my relief, it did. Well, sort of—instead of a pool of water at the bottom, there was a bed of soap suds. The odd thing was that I didn’t use any soap, yet soap suds filled the bottom, which eventually disappeared. Later, the water returned, and after a few more episodes of emptying the water and running the rinse cycle, the water finally drained for good. The mysterious soap suds remained but lessened to a residue, which made me think that the soap pod must not have dissolved and got lodged in the hose, which caused the water to back up. I switched to liquid soap and solved that mystery. The dishwasher is now a happy camper. 

Jenni’s suggestions spurred me into action. When it was only not using the disposal, I could tolerate that, but when it came to the dishwasher pooling over, that became a high priority essential task. Since the two are connected, I took this warning to heart. I spent New Year’s Day shopping for a garbage disposal and calling Geek Squad. Remember earlier when I said, “Great timing”? Well, I wasn’t kidding. Jenni also suggested that I upgrade to more horsepower (HP) if I could, and guess what? The day I was shopping, there was one promotion on a garbage disposal, and it happened to be the larger horsepower one. If I bought my ½ HP disposal, it would have been $109, but the ¾ HP disposal, originally priced at $144, was only $119 for a limited time. For $10 more, I got more HP, a no brainer—sold!  

As of yesterday, I am a happy camper with my new garbage disposal. How did I manage without this baby? Thinking back, I laughed because the year started with a broken garbage disposal and ended with the dishwasher problem that spurred me into action to replace the disposal finally. For almost a year, I sacrificed a modern convenience in my attempt not to add to the Covid-19 problem. But in the end, I was forced to take action and come full circle.

A Moment in My Life – Thursday, January 7, 2021

Continuing from yesterday—trying to decide which category to tackle first wasn’t easy. Everything from work to personal life needed attention—some areas more than others. My initial plan would have me working on one area of my life until I saw it through, but if I did it that way, then everywhere else would continue to fall apart, and I would still be unhappy and stressed out. Another realization I faced was the accomplishment would be short-lived. For example, during my winter break, I finally attacked my closet and drawers taking everything out and deciding who lives and who dies. I was thrilled upon completion, but the joy I felt from the closet project faded when I moved onto another project.

That’s when I decided to try the piecemeal method. From each area of my life, I picked one thing that I could incorporate into my lifestyle change concurrently. As I became acclimated to Shelter in Place, I started to see—my good habits morph into sloppy habits. If you think about it, all the bad habits sprung up around the same time while I wasn’t paying attention, so it’s logical to address them together. I know what you’re thinking. This sounds like I’ve gone back to my old all-or-none thinking. You got a point there, but things aren’t always black and white. In this case, it makes sense to address them together. 

I remember telling someone during the first phase of Shelter in Place that I was disciplined enough to maintain my good diet and workout habits while many people complained about weight gain. I was sure, then, that wouldn’t happen to me. If only that remained true. With Shelter in Place extending out longer and longer, my resolve waned little by little. Between the panic shopping frenzies and trying to support the local eateries, eating right was a fascination of the past. And, working out? What’s that? 

If you don’t like doing something, you won’t need much to discourage you from doing it. Unlike some of my BFFs, working out was not a thing I enjoy doing, and being alone endlessly, I had no resolve to do more than my daily walking, per doctor’s orders, and I happened to enjoy doing that, so it was no problem. 

In preparation for launching my writing career, I began turning in earlier and rising at 6:00 to start my workday and developed an excellent discipline. My writing life remained fruitful, and I churned out column after column. That’s all I was producing, but I was content with that. The column became my day’s work, which was good, but being a full-time writer meant writing way more than just a column a day. As the days got shorter, it became a challenge to wake up early, too. “It’s so dark out there!” a little voice complained inside my head. I got sloppy.

Shelter in Place is a new way of life that didn’t come with a manual. We live and learn as we go with the flow. This different lifestyle should have a warning that we need to be vigilant not only to avoid adding to the pandemic problem but also to be vigilant with maintaining our lifestyle and remaining true to our values. In other words, don’t get so comfortable being “at home” that you drop your guard and get sloppy.

What’s done is done, but it’s not too late to make changes. I’m getting back to the basics. Starting with hitting the sack earlier, every night, even on Friday nights and the weekends. Don’t laugh, but something about the weekend, the kid in me comes out, and I stay up too late. Sleep has always been the magic ingredient for a good life, but I never appreciated it as much as I do now. With a lack of sleep, I can’t think well, and I drag through the day. It’s painful! Sleep heals us from the inside out. It improves our attitudes. It helps us think clearer. It even stabilizes our weight, too, and it does so much more. 

After having enjoyed many naughty foods in recent months, I’m ready to return to basics with my diet, which means a considerable reduction of sweet treats and restaurant meals. Instead, I added more plant-based whole foods back into my life. Immediately, two pounds fell off my scale the next day. It’s incredible how a little change could make such an immediate difference. Food is the nourishment that makes or breaks us, period. It’s scary how so many fun foods are damaging to our wellness. 

Then comes the most challenging area that I must improve on, and that’s my workouts. I’ve tried different things to inspire me to get a move on, but when my day gets busy, this area is the first to get side-swept. Ideally, I want to get back to my basic 30-minute workouts with cardio on MWF and toning on TTH. I’ve done this before, I fell off the saddle, and I am having trouble getting back on. My first step towards this discipline is, don’t laugh—line dancing! As I mentioned in Monday’s column that I’ve gone country, so line dancing is right up my alley. I figured it would be fun, a great workout, and an excellent way to get back into the basics of working out.

These areas make up the core that keeps me functioning each day, so it was pertinent to improve them first to fully reap the wellness benefits immediately. Besides the scale going down, I feel like a new person just days after starting this plan. It doesn’t require more of anything except the desire to just do it. 

Continuing with getting back to basics, I revamped my writing goals to include more writing goals than just the daily column. This plan requires a lot of discipline to work my aggressive writing plan, but having my core wellness in place affords me the energy to execute this plan.

I started this series with a celebration of life in remembrance of Mark and because God gave me a second chance to live my life, which means every day that I wake up, is a celebration of life. In my devotion reading this morning, I was reminded that we must take each day seriously and live it well. I got sloppy over the past few months, but my eyes are opened, and I am making changes to live each day better and accomplish more. There are many other categories that I am working on improving, but for now, I wanted to share the main areas that perhaps others may benefit from as well. After all, I don’t want to be the only one living well. I wish every one of you a wonderful 2021, and I hope we can all be healthy and safe and make every day a masterpiece of a day well-lived so that every day is a celebration of life.

A Moment in My Life – Wednesday, January 6, 2021

Pressing the pause button yesterday was an excellent start to incorporating Mark’s way of life. I could’ve pushed through continuing to write this column until I finished, but doing so meant something else had to give. I tend towards the all-or-none mentality, but life doesn’t stop and wait for you meaning it’s up to me to balance my day. 

Revamping our natural lifestyle habits is a huge undertaking that doesn’t happen overnight. It begins with a desire, a game plan, the right mindset, and baby steps. The very first step I added to my daily routine was the piecemeal method. For an all-or-none gal, this first step is a doozy taxing my beliefs at the core. It has to be done if I am going to make this work. 

At first sight, the piecemeal method feels unproductive. How will I ever finish the task if I plant myself down to work on it for only a few minutes a day? Then, I remember reading advice on battling writer’s block where they suggested that if we tap away on the keyboard and fill one page a day, we would have a 365-page manuscript in a year. What a revelation that was! 

It works. Back in the day, my coworker/friend, Ron, used to blow me away with this method. We had ten minutes between meetings, where I fretted over what to do since that’s not enough time to start anything. Ron proved me otherwise by sitting down at his desk, picking up the phone, and began calling a client making good use of his ten minutes as I squandered mine.

Unlike verbal me, Mark never said anything. He just did. Now, thinking back, Mark was the king of the piecemeal method in our home. He was the example of doing things right away and getting it over with. Like Ron, it didn’t matter how much or how little time he had to work with. Mark sat down and began working until he needed to stop. The next free moment he got, he resumed working, and eventually, he completed the task. The difference between his and my method was that he never had a backlog. On the other hand, I have a mound of backlog waiting for my attention at all times.

Considering that I am revamping my lifestyle as a whole, it would take me months to see the results from each area that I am overhauling if I did it all-or-none. That wouldn’t work because it’s like telling your lungs to hold off working until the heart is ready to perform its duty. Everything needs to function simultaneously to make it work. That also goes for my lifestyle changes where I need to contemplate the bigger picture and choose one small step from each area that I could implement immediately. Approaching the overhaul by the piecemeal method means I see small improvements in every area immediately. It’s incredible how even the teeniest improvement in all areas could perk up your spirit’s morale, and your inner team begins to look forward to the next step eagerly. Just a small change like the mere act of turning in earlier each night and making healthier food choices could improve the way your body and mind feel and function. Your productivity increases and you get more done, and that’s just the beginning. I’m out of time. We’ll get into more about this tomorrow.