Meditate on this....

...enough said.

Feed your spirit

Some of the most joyful moments I've spent have been by myself. And as pathetic as that may sound to some people, I'm secure in my solitude. After all, if you don't enjoy spending time with yourself why should anybody else. It could be that growing up as an only child until my late teens allows me to feel comfortable in seclusion. I'm not a hermit by any stretch of the imagination. Like most people, almost every day of my life I have a heavy dose of social interaction. Most of the time I enjoy being around others. Nonetheless, I truly believe that spending time alone is not only a normal state of being, but a necessary one. And yet, so many people do everything in their power not to be alone with their thoughts, even if that means countless, mindless conversations on the phone. They are even willing to surround themselves with people they know in their heart of hearts are not their friends, just so they don't have to listen to the reasoning of their inner voice. An inner voice that in my opinion is a direct connection to the Creator.

Whether you call it meditation, centering, prayer or just silence, these stolen moments from the fast-paced and tumultuous world we're living in safeguard our sanity, mental agility and stamina. Finding the time to be with (notice I didn't say 'by') yourself is crucial--whether that means a walk in the park, a bicycle ride around a lake, a trip to the museum or sitting on the couch with a cup of hot cocoa under a warm blanket, on a cold winter day. Comparable to the body's need for water, when I don't get enough me time, I have a thirst that refuses to go away until it's satiated.

If I'm so distracted by life to the point that I don't make time for myself, the need for solitude can manifest as exhaustion or an aversion to activity outside my home. And despite the messages we receive from society that advocate constant multitasking, our bodies were not created to go, go, go like that battery-operated bunny. We need rest and time to shut out the noise of the world.

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...

Relief for the un-and-underemployed

This morning, midway between wake and sleep, I heard Joel Osteen advise his parishioners and the television audience to redeem their time. Huh, I wondered. Did he mean like a coupon from the Sunday paper? (Note to self, get up soon and get the New York Times before they run out.) My reasoning skills were not yet at peak performance this early on a Sunday morning. As I listened on I realized that he was talking about making every day of our lives something special--making it count. Great advice, but how do you maintain this attitude when you're overwhelmed by the emotions that come along with being unemployed, I wondered after switching to CNN and hearing the latest numbers of those out of work.

Pep talk to self: When you're down, there is no where to look but up. This means you have to stay on your game and not give in to idleness. My mother always says an idle mind is the devil's workshop. So, as one of the underemployed, after the magazine where I freelanced shuttered, folded, went the way of the shredder, I decided to get busy. Delay is time for preparation, I once heard.

What do the experts suggest we do: #1 - Reinvent yourself and be willing to follow a new career path. (Preferably in an industry that isn't going belly-up the way that my industry of choice has...) #2 - Schedule physical activity into your daily routine. Exercise helps to fend off depression. #3 - Redo your resume. Don't just itemize duties but highlight accomplishments. #4 - Network, network, network. #5 - Relax, relate, release.

Some very specific information I found that may help someone:

• Go back to school. St. John's University is offering a 50 percent discount to alumni. I hope other universities will follow suit.
• Stay informed. The National Unemployment Law Project keeps unemployed and underemployed Americans abreast of the latest policies affecting them.
• Get health insurance even if you're not working full-time. As a freelancer or self-employed individual you can join the Freelancers Union and pay a reasonable amount for these benefits.
• Talk to and learn from others who can relate to your current situation at LaidOffCamp.
• Get a break from car payments if you own a Hyundai. The Hyundai Assurance program will pay your car loan for three months if you lose your job. If you are still not able to make payments after that time period, the company will allow you to return your car with no harm to your credit.
• Avoid foreclosure on your home if your loan is with CitiMortgage, thanks to their Office of Homeownership Preservation.
  

Joe Turner's Come and Gone

I am looking forward to seeing Joe Turner's Come and Gone by August Wilson again! It's at the Belasco Theatre. It's been more than twenty years since I first saw it, but it is still vivid in my psyche. The play, set in 1911 Pittsburgh, follows the main character through a heart wrenching search for cultural identity and inner freedom after emancipation from slavery. (Click on the link above for more information.)

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.

Stress management

I heard today that 75 percent of our thoughts are negative. I found it hard to believe, so I did my research. Supposedly we have between 45,000 to 51,000 thoughts a day and about three-fourths of them are not good. Someone has even figured out that if you live to be 40, you would have had more than half a billion negative thoughts. Come on, could this be true of EVERY person on the planet? If so, it's amazing we get anything done.

Regardless what exact percentage of our thinking falls in the valley of despair, the Mayo Clinic says that positive thinking is a key element for managing stress and overall better health. The experts believe the only way to override pessimism is by putting a positive spin on your self-speak. So for example if you feel you don't have the resources to get something done, you could do your own damage-control by telling yourself that necessity is the mother of invention.

There's a verse in the bible that says: "...whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy--meditate [think] on these things." (Philippians 4:8).

Here's to the power of positive thinking!

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.

How a hospital visit could help your career...

My dad came home after a weeklong stay in the hospital. Thank God!

To say that he was just a bit grouchy throughout his ordeal of being prodded, pinched and poked is definitely an understatement. And while all the nurses and doctors thought him to be just as sweet as pie...I was the unfortunate recipient who got to experience the Hyde to his Jekyll. Normally my father is not like this...but the combination of pain and lock down in a hospital room certainly brought out his alter ego. By mid week I was one thinly, fraying nerve away from being at my wit's end. I needed to find a way to turn this trial into something positive, at the very least a mechanism to maintain my sanity. As cliché as it may sound, I had to turn the lemons into lemonade.

As I sat in the room with my father, who was undergoing a bone scan and could not move, I had a moment to evaluate the different scenarios that had already taken place-- all in the matter of maybe 45 minutes-- and found parallels that occur in the workplace. Oh, but I didn't stop there. I tapped into that file cabinet I mentioned in an earlier post, and pulled out advice I had garnered from the experts--executive recruiters, human resource personnel, and managers to name a few--that I interviewed in the past.

Scenario #1: I brought him socks, underwear, and the toiletries he requested. All wrong. It went something like this:

"Here you go, dad..."

That's me.

"No, no, no. I said the old ones, not the new ones. These are for my trip. I told you to get them from the second drawer in the dresser, not from the first drawer in the armoire."

That's him.

The conversation goes back and forth between who said what and who didn't say what for about another two minutes. We're both a bit stubborn.

Lesson: C.Y.A. big time! Don't depend on your memory. Keep detailed notes on work-related conversations. Document what's said, especially if you're working on a multifaceted project with a number of players. Use whatever means you can to keep track, whether that's a time- management program, memos, emails, whatever, without stepping on toes or seeming completely anal-retentive.

Scenario #2: I brought him bananas. He normally eats one a day as part of his regimen. I thought I was doing a good thing...being thoughtful even. He scowled. He didn't want them.

Lesson: It's great to anticipate your supervisor's expectations, just don't convince yourself that you know what they are. Assess and reassess goals and benchmarks on a regular basis.

Scenario #3: As I mentioned earlier, he was really, really grouchy. The stress of losing a major client, having a father in the hospital and my own three-day migraine (and counting), left me a bit off-kilter. I wanted to cry.

Lesson: Toughen up! Thin skin and emotional responses are ingredients for disaster. There will always be someone or something that will try to throw you off your game.

Thank God for my dad. He makes me a better person!

The best is yet to come...

One of the things I enjoy most about being a journalist and research editor is all of the interesting things I learn about life, love and taxes. Even the less-than-interesting articles I've researched, on subjects that include clearing out a clogged bathtub, have been stored in the recesses of my brain and ever so carefully filed under mundane information. (Wouldn't you love to have me on your team the next time you're playing Jeopardy?) But seriously...

I've been instrumental in promoting the benefits of healthy habits to family and friends thanks in part to all of those medical journals and medical jargon that I've had to decipher over the years. In fact, I've got a new unwarranted moniker--Dr. Jackson. I've researched and written on a spectrum of subjects, from op-ed pieces for USATODAY.com on contemporary issues from a spiritual standpoint to career advice columns for a number of business magazines. My claim to fame...I don't by any stretch of the imagination claim that I know everything about all things, but I'm inquisitive and love sharing what I find out with others. So onward and upward....I'm going to spend some time talking to some folks and see if they can give me some answers about making it through these trying times and then I'll share it with you....