On the Bright Side

As our kids grow older, my husband and I like to take credit for the parts of their personalities that we are particularly fond of while claiming, of course, to have no idea where the not so impressive qualities could have come from. I would have to say that I’m a full-fledged Type B personality, while my husband is more like a Type A - Type B. Nothing rattles him, but he doesn’t exactly know how to relax. He’s always thinking about his next move, whether it is pre-downloading the next Netflix binge before a current series has ended or planning our retirement. He never sits still, but also rarely gets stressed about anything. I, on the other hand, though I too rarely get stressed, am more of a ‘roll with the punches’ kind of person. I’ve actually been quite proud of my ability to look on the bright side and accept life’s curve balls with grace. As for the kids, we have two boys, and one steers his life the way my husband does while the other rides the waves like his mom. Observi...

It’s that time of year again: People cutting in line because they obviously have somewhere to go; crowded stores and streets; and the endless music being piped into our lives, indoctrinating the “holiday spirit” (spend your money) into our weary souls, if only for a few stressful weeks. The holiday season really has become a direct manifestation of our culture. We have a very all-or-nothing attitude when it comes to celebrating. Maybe that is because most of us are truly too busy working to take the time out to celebrate in moderation on a more frequent basis. No, in America it is “Go hard or go home! During the work week, we work hard. On the weekends, we play hard. During the summer, we vacation hard. And during the holidays, we rejoice – hard! We jam it all in: the food and drink, the running around, the sleep deprivation, and the dent in our bank accounts, the family obligations and politics… all in honor of the “holiday season.” I’ve never been much of a “Put the Christ back...

Life`s a Beach By Jonna Shutowick. M.S. Ed.   My inspiration this month comes from the Starfish Story. Before I begin, let me recount a version of the story here for you, just in case you haven’t heard it before:  A young girl was walking along a beach upon which thousands of starfish had been washed up during a terrible storm. When she came to each starfish, she would pick it up, and throw it back into the ocean. People watched her with amusement. She had been doing this for some time when a man approached her and said, “Little girl, why are you doing this? Look at this beach! You can’t save all these starfish. You can’t begin to make a difference!” The girl seemed crushed, suddenly deflated. But after a few moments, she bent down, picked up another starfish, and hurled it as far as she could into the ocean. Then she looked up at the man and replied, “Well, I made a difference to that one!” - Adapted from the Star Thrower by Loren C. Eiseley After my first year a...

I was not really in a hurry, I was just tired of waiting. My foot tapping, my blood pressure rising as if by Pavlovian response, the snippy resonse already forming on my tongue, I was about to let the front desk manager have it when I was actually saved by a sigh and an eye roll. As strange as that may sound, my long frustrated sigh acted more like a deep, cleansing breath and I suddenly gained perspective on myself and the situation I was in. It was summertime. As a teacher I am blessed with two months to rejuvenate, relax, and reflect. I had nowhere to go, no reason to be in a hurry, yet I had run out of patience and it wasn't even 9 a.m.! My deep breath helped me reflect on my reflexes. It gave me the time to catch a bad mood mid-formation. When I thought about the potential amount of wasted energy, stress and irritation that I almost allowed into my morning simply because I was inconvenienced, I actually laughed at myself. A bonafide LOL. When the guy behind the ...