It's been a minute.....or two...

I have been in hibernation or maybe just distracted by love. Nonetheless, I'm back and planning a wedding. No I don't have a date and no I don't know where it's going to be....but I'm looking forward to the journey. I waited a looooooooooong time for this moment, so I want it to resonate not only for me and my honey but for everyone sharing in the day. More to come....

Protect your neck...

....it's a vampire! Energy vampire that is! I interviewed Dr. Judith Orloff, a few years ago, for a magazine article that I was writing. Unfortunately, I don't remember what the article was about, but I remember the lesson I learned about energy vampires.

Just as the name suggests, an energy vampire, is anything or anyone who leaves you feeling like a casualty of emotional warfare. They literally suck the life out of you. It's the conversations you have with someone that make you feel as though you've been slimed with a substance that even a nice hot shower wouldn't wash off? If you're feeling drained, tired, or unmotivated after an encounter with someone, you might have fallen victim to a sob sister, drama queen, constant talker or criticizer. If you don't remember encountering such a person, have had a good night's sleep, have no health issues and you still feel run down, you my friend may be the reason. Your own negative thoughts might be sucking your energy.



So what do you do:

1. Awareness is always the first step. Recognize the situation for what it is.
2.Easier said than done, but if it's overwhelmingly negative, you must change your thought pattern.
3. Don't be a hostage to a conversation that's moving at a drop-dead speed off a cliff, into a brick wall, or towards oncoming traffic. Get the picture!
4. Protect yourself. Remember your garlic or wooden stake. If it's a family member that you can't avoid, you still have the power to limit interaction with this personality.

Growing pains

Is it really possible to outgrow someone? I've heard people use this terminology over and over again, but it just seems so cold. Callous. Who am I to outgrow another human being? Isn't that a bit elitist? Here we are on this pilgrimage side by side...happily even...and then what happens? One day someone just wakes up and the proverbial cap no longer fits?

Or maybe it's more like a too-tight shoe that you just decide you can no longer bear the pain (or the corn) that comes with it. After all, what person in their right mind would want to continue wearing a shoe that rubs the back of their heel until an unsightly bubble of skin appears? Does it matter that the pumps are Manolo and you paid $500 for them? Those stilettos may look good, but you're in pain! Money spent on repairing a pair of worn-out boots year after year might have been better spent on a new pair. I know, I know, leave it to a woman to compare life to foot apparel...LOL!

Arguably the life lessons, friendship, and good times shared with someone should not be trivialized by comparing it to an inanimate object, on the other hand it may be a perfect parallel. After all, descriptives like painful, ill-fitting, worn out, faded, broken, sole(soul)less can be used for both. Recognizing that you've outgrown a friend doesn't mean you don't care for that person or that you harbor any animosity. Perhaps conversation is strained, a connection is lost, a bond is unraveled or commonalities have transitioned into major differences. Life experiences can create a Grand Canyon-like chasm and you may no longer speak the same language.

It's hard to face, but realistically some relationships just have an expiration date. A premise supported by the ideology that some "people come into your life for a season, a reason or a lifetime." Hopefully we can discern which is which and know when to let go....

Don't be a victim

When I said necessity is the mother of invention in an earlier blog, I was so not suggesting stealing someone's identity. And yet there are clearly some low-life idiots out there who think it's a good way to supplement their income, as evidenced by approximately 10 million people who fall victim to identity theft every year. The scary thing is many of these thieves are people we know.

A few years ago, the mailman erroneously put a credit card application for my mother in the wrong mailbox. We found out because she started receiving bills for a card she never had. The bold-faced culprit was a woman we knew very well. She was a neighbor with the same last name. For crying out loud I went to school with her son for most of my life. The police are not able to do anything about these scenarios. And although the credit card company had pictures of her using the card at an ATM, they felt that the amount was not significant enough for them to pursue her, which just eats me up.

I heard on the Michael Baisden show today that hackers are even stealing information from the computer systems of the nation's mega-churches. These organizations are now able to take credit and debit cards when members pay their tithes. Could you be the next victim? Take the test below and find out how much you know.

Forever grateful

"Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind." - Lionel Hampton, a jazz musician

I've been in a reflective mood lately. Today, my thoughts ran to the individuals who have made a lasting impact in my life that they probably don't even know about. I'm no longer in contact with some of these people, but I wish I had a way to thank them personally. Instead, I'll just send my appreciation out to the universe and hope it reaches them somehow.

It's been about three months since the 20th anniversary of the demise of Pan Am Flight 103 and the commemoration for the 259 passengers, including 35 Syracuse University students. They were on their way back home to the States...coming back for the Christmas holidays...when their lives were ended abruptly. Although I didn't know any of the students that were aboard, I was also enrolled at Syracuse, in the S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications, at the time. A few of them were even supposed to graduate with me and the other 5,000 plus students that year.

I had filled out the paperwork to go abroad that semester...to the same European destination as those students...but the chair of my concentration refused to sign the form allowing me to go. His rationale: I had spent the previous semester in New York City and needed to remain on campus for my senior year. I was admittedly angry with him. It didn't make sense to me then and to be completely honest it still doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me now?

From my mind....Things that don't make sense are often working in our favor.

To my heart...I know that now and I am forever grateful.

Thank you...

Facebook, blogging and other addictions

I just got sucked into Facebook. (Wish I had a visual for that one.) No worries, I say sucked in with love.

I realize I'm light years behind the rest of the world when it comes to all things facebookish, but I think I've more than made up for it during this first week as a facebookee. I posted a photo, filled out the questionnaires and reached out to those near and dear. Now what? Is there an art to facebooking?

I spent countless hours reuniting with old high school and college friends, and even family members over the last five days. I must admit it's a bit strange witnessing my professional and personal worlds colliding. But it's great to catch up and get a peek into their lives (well as much as they are willing to show) and see what they've been up to. Where did the time go? Anyway, I digress. It's amazing how much a web page with pictures of associates can tell you about a person. That six degrees of separation thing is no joke. And then there's the mindless babbling: Such and so is....you fill in the blank. It's all the rage now to inform everyone of where you are or what you are thinking at that precise moment even if there is no real merit to it. (Guilty as charged.)

Facebook deliberately keeps track of how many people have accepted my invitation. Some people have over 600 contacts. For one moment, it's high school all over again. I am nostalgic. Visions of trying out for the cheerleading team, running for homecoming queen, and hanging out with the cool kids--all of the anxiety derived from these activities, that rely so heavily on popularity, came back like a rush. There's got to be more to it than this.

One of my Facebook friends recently asked on his page:

"Do I win a prize for having 500 fb friends?"

(He didn't say it exactly that way; I paraphrase to make the point.)

It's not the quantity but quality of friends one of his fb friends replies.

God at this point in our lives, I hope we never forget that.

My green thumb

My mother is anxiously looking forward to getting back to her gardening. It's where she's happiest. It's where she communes with her Creator. And while I'm not a gardener, I've spent enough time observing her--from a perfectly placed lawn chair with a glass of ice tea and a good book on hand--that I completely understand. I've watched her transform the grass, growing out of control like an old man who needs a good shave, into a beautifully manicured lawn. I have pictures of my mom, when she first bought her home, digging in the hard, red dirt, not believing that she could grow anything out of it much less create a beautiful garden. I've spent too many hours and days in the gardening section of Lowe's and Home Depot with my mother as she fawned over ivys and clematis.

That woman is so passionate about all things botanical that it's rubbed off on me. Well, kind of. I mean I'm not looking for acidic soil to plant hydrangeas or anything. But I never would have imagined that I would be the one pointing out forsythias and rhododendrons to friends when these plants start to show themselves amidst the gritty urban backdrop I call home.

Before my mom relocated to the country, this obsession of hers manifested in an apartment filled with houseplants. As a child, I named them and watered them. (I was an only child okay!) But that inkling of interest died as well as the pothos my mother gave me as a dorm warming present when I went off to college.

My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago. The cancer had grown into the lymph nodes under her arm. I traveled over 200 miles one way to get to her and then another 100 or so miles to accompany her to chemotherapy. I had to be by her side. I didn't know how much longer my mother would be around, out in her garden, with beads of sweat dripping down her nose as she bent over to pull the pesky weeds out of her flower bed...just like the cancer in her body. She kept gardening. It made her happy. It gave her peace and she communed with her God.

I would travel back and forth from my apartment to her house--200 miles too far away--when it was time for her to go for chemo. It wasn't until after her surgery and a positive outcome that I noticed that the number of plants in my apartment had gone from...okay, none....to five. Having them in my presence was like having my mother close to me.

My mom has received a clean bill of health again this year and I have about eleven vibrant plants throughout my apartment. They are symbolic of so many things to me. They remind me of what's important--nurturing my relationships.