Habits

Every once in awhile, it helps to be reminded of something that we already instinctively know. It helps to see the concept boiled down to its pure essence.

I received the following from a friend in an email this past week. Unfortunately, I don't know from where it originates, I just know that it resounds deeply with me. It is so easy to be overwhelmed by the big picture, the end goal, and then it's too easy to give up when we feel overwhelmed.

The 14 steps that follow though are a reminder that the big picture is achieved by making small daily improvements. Keeping this concept in front of us helps to make our goals seem so much more achievable. The mind works in mysterious ways.

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14 KEYS ON DEVELOPING YOUR DAILY SUCCESS ROUTINE

1.  Men do not decide their future.  They decide on the habits that determine their future.

2.  What you do daily is deciding what you are becoming permanently.

3.  Nothing will ever dominate your life unless it happens daily.

4.  You cannot change your life until you change something you keep doing ...daily.

5.  You can trace the failure of every man to something he permitted to occur daily in his life,   body, or his mind.

6.  You can trace uncommon success to habits that were created...a daily success routine.

7.   Your habits are creating increase or decrease.

8.  Your habits are being strengthened or changed by the friends you permit daily close to you.

9.  What you keep looking at daily is deciding where you will go.

10.  Gaze only upon that which you desire in the future.

11.  You will always move toward the dominant picture in your mind; that is why it is important that you place pictures around you of the things you desire to move toward and have.

12.  You can change a failure routine into a success routine within 21 days!

13.  What you keep doing daily is creating the future you have always wanted...or the future you dread.

14.  Your money habits are making you a pauper or a millionaire.


                           

The Engagement

I'm always taken a little aback when perfect strangers come up to me and start conversations about their personal thoughts and feelings. It's just a little weird. On the other hand, when those perfect strangers are children, I'm highly amused. You just never know what they'll say.

Recently I was browsing through a local retail establishment that can best be described as an acre of accessories. It is not to be believed. Mostly it consists of well made but extremely reasonably priced costume jewelry and it's all arranged by color, a concept that highly pleases me.

There is one section of this shop where you'll find rings only, and it was while I was browsing this section that a little girl struck up a conversation with me. She was diligently pouring over the "diamond" solitaires and pointing to one she said:

"I'm going to have my boyfriend buy that one for me for my engagement ring. I know it will have to be resized but that's OK. He told me that we're going to get married when we're seven. I really don't like the ring he gave me and he said that I could just throw it away when I outgrow it."

Then she held out her ringless left hand for me to see. "I know it doesn't look like I'm engaged, but really I am. You know, I have $29 with me. I think I'm just going to go ahead and buy that ring myself and give it to him to give to me."

At this point, my mind was reeling. At six she was obsessed with being engaged and even having the ring. A thousand questions began to run through my mind while she was talking. Is this normal behavior for a six year old girl? Are they all obsessed with being engaged and getting married? In my mind I searched back to when I was six. I remember playing house and having an imaginary husband named David Hill. (I have no idea where that name came from.) But, in those games, I think I had an imaginary name, too. I wasn't me. I was just some imaginary woman who had an imaginary husband.

And while my mind is trying to put all this in perspective, she's still talking on and on. I wish that I'd been able to record everything she was saying.I tried to think of all the little girls I know now, including my granddaughter, and I couldn't think of a one who talked like this. And then I began to wonder, who is this girl's mother?

Just then, the little girl's mother walked up to her and she was embarrassed almost to the point of tears. She couldn't even bring herself to make eye contact with me. She told her young daughter to stop talking to strangers and then it wasn't long after that they left the store. The engagement ring was still there.

The whole incident left me feeling a little breathless and I find myself wondering just how that little girl's life will turn out. I guess I'll never know.

A Vacation From Time

I need a vacation. I'm sure you need one, too. Is there anyone who doesn't feel this way at almost any given time? And those fortunate enough to be able to get away for awhile do indeed take vacations and almost to a one they return saying, I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

I've been on those type vacations way too often. We get away from our homes, our jobs, our everyday lives and put ourselves into a new locale and often a different climate. Then, to make sure we make the most of it, we schedule our free time to death. We're not happy unless we visit every historic home, church, battleground or cemetery; sample all the 5-star restaurants and make sure we've shopped every boutique containing local artisan crafts or duty free goods. At least one day must contain physical activity, i.e. horseback riding, hang gliding, scuba diving or snorkeling. Then it's time to go home. In one week's time we've stuffed more activities into our calendar than we would have scheduled in a year if we'd remained at home. And we wonder why we're exhausted when we return.

What I need is a vacation from time.

I want to go somewhere far from home (preferably where it's warm) without my laptop and throw my watch and cell phone into a safe, lock them up, and forget about them for a week or two. I want to arm myself with a stack of books, a sketchbook, markers and maybe a glue stick and I want to park myself next to the pool, or on the beach. I want to wake up whenever I feel like it, nap whenever I feel like it, eat whenever I feel hungry and not necessarily at designated meal times and to speak only if I really have to. I don't want my senses assaulted by a TV or to even watch a movie. I just want to be, to breathe, to truly recharge my batteries.

And then, I can return home and face the world again, fully restored.

New Year's Resolutions Good & Bad

I was looking over my post from last New Year's Eve (Personal Resolutions) and although I still stand by the concept of New Year's "philosophies," I have a new perspective. I've never been much for making resolutions at New Year's, but something completely unforeseen happened to me this past year and through that my new business, crabulous fine art, was born. It has a lit a fire under me like nothing else ever has and I have a mammoth list of "resolutions," or as I prefer to think of it, goals, for 2012.

I guess it's only natural to make such lists at the beginning of a new year; out with the old, in with the new. But I think it's important to distinguish between resolutions and wishes. Good resolutions ought to be things over which we have control as opposed to wishes which depend on luck. For instance, losing 10 pounds or quitting smoking are good resolutions because a person actually can control the outcome of those things (believe it or not). But one really can't "resolve" to fall in love (or, conversely, have someone fall in love with you) or win the Lotto. Those things are completely out of one's control.

And it's important to be specific. "I'm going to exercise for 30 minutes everyday" is much more tangible and beneficial than "I'm going to join a gym." 

But the absolute best resolutions are the ones where you resolve to spend more time doing the things you love. Whether it's a hobby or spending more time with loved ones, make a list and be specific about how much time you want to spend on these things or with these people. Life is about living and loving and it's too short to spend beating ourselves over the heads about our shortcomings. Make loving yourself and loving your life your number one resolution for 2012.

Happy New Year!

Collectors

What is it that makes people collect things? I can't think of anyone I know who doesn't. Sometimes people collect pricey, expensive items... other people the  things that are free.

I, for instance, collect flotsam; those items that the ocean brings ashore. My favorite local beach for combing is littered with rocks and stones, mostly igneous in nature, of all different sizes, shapes and colors. To me,  they are like gemstones, and I can't resist their allure.

There are also a variety of seashells, but few of them are whole having broken up when dashed against the stoney beach. But I love the broken ones that have been washed smooth. I'm particularly fascinated with broken whelk shells that allow you to see into their winding interiors.

For many reasons I have not been to my favorite beach in a long time, but today I could not resist walking it for it's still not been too long since Irene passed by. And, as I suspected, the beach was covered with treasures. My favorite find this morning, was a tiny little starfish. I have found starfish here before, but it's rare.

So, Emmett was chasing the birds and romping in the waves while I collected various keepsakes, when another beachcomber walked up to us. He was a man, probably in his late 50's, very bronzed, buffed and was wearing only a straw hat and Speedos. But what most caught my attention is what he was carrying by his side in his left hand.

"I see you found a whelk," I said. 

"A what?" he asked. 

"A whelk," I replied.

"You mean this?" And he held up the largest and most perfect specimen I have ever seen of a channeled whelk. By this time I was fairly drooling. I have a few knobbed whelks that I was lucky enough to find on the beach, but not a channeled whelk.

And he continued, "I thought it was a conch!"

(Aaargh! Face palm! God, please give me the patience to deal with the fact that you left such a gorgeous specimen on the beach only to be discovered by an idiot who doesn't know what it is... and please, please don't let him take it home and use it as an ash tray!)

I carefully explained that conchs are somewhat different than whelks and that although whelks are native to the area, it's very rare that one arrives on the beach intact. "Well then," he intoned, "I must be lucky!"

So, even though what I collect is free, I still experience the same frustration as a Beanie Baby collector when someone else has just snatched the last fluffy critter of a limited edition.

Happy collecting, whatever it may be!

Rescue Flowers

What's wrong with me? (Really, I should know better than to ask that by now.) What is it that draws me to the weak and pathetic and less than perfect? How difficult would it be for me to go to that beautiful greenhouse on the corner and buy a flat of healthy, robust petunias? But nooooo. I have to go to Walmart, 17 weeks* after they've received this season's shipment of annuals, and purchase the seediest petunias I could find. I always feel sad for the left over flowers. Who's going to love them and take them home?

I purchased 6 white ones and 6 red ones and planted them in a pot by the steps to the porch. OK, I know. There are only 10 plants in the picture. That's because there was already a dead plant in each of the packs. I then pinched them way back so that the plants would once again bush out and they'd produce healthy blossoms. That was a month ago and I thought for sure there would be blooms by the 4th of July. But today is June 30 and I have little hope that a miracle will occur in 4 days.

And yes, to answer the question I know you all are thinking. I have brought home my share of Charlie Brown Christmas trees; even long after my finances no longer made it my only option. Once again, I felt sorry for the tree no one else could ever love and I would slave over it to make it look exceptionally beautiful.

In the past week I've found myself thinking that I should just buy some new flowers and replace the runts that refuse to flourish; but something in me just won't let me. Wait... what's this? A bud? Two buds? Ah, vindication will yet be mine!

*All measurements of time as expressed in this article are prone to exaggeration.

God's Shopping List

I received a message from God today, in the form of his grocery list. I was returning from a walk with my dog, and there it was, at my feet in my very own back yard. "Typical male," I thought, "dropping this on me; the busiest woman in the world." Then I noticed the date - a full three weeks ago. I wondered how many women before me had turned down this task before he finally gave me the list in despair.

I couldn't help but laugh when I saw the first item on the list. Crackers?!? Surely God has enough of those and plenty to spare. And I read over the rest of the list. What in the world is going on in heaven? This sounds like depression food. Is the economy bad there, too? Is this what I have to look forward to when I spend time in eternity? Spam and Jello? And cream soup? What is cream soup anyway? Cream of what? Cream of cream? I'm not sure I can spend all of eternity eating pork and beans and spaghetti sauce. This is not what I pictured on the menu in heaven. And so I wonder... what do they eat in the other place?

I thought about just pitching the list like I'd never seen it, but guilt got the better of me. After all, I had plans to go to the supermarket after work; what was a few more things for God? And then it hit me. Where in the hell was I supposed to ship it?