Control the Dog -- or Me?

Can you believe it!? Awake at 2 a.m. and I'm thinking about yesterday's trip to the dog park with our two dogs. At two in the morning!!???

The youngest canine is Brandy Bojangles, a year and a half old Cocker Spaniel -- recently spayed -- which is why she could finally go to the park. Brandy usually barks fearfully and incessantly at the mere sight of another dog or human. Yet, once in the park, she took it all in without a sound.  

But this writing is not about Brandy.

The second dog is my husband's three year old, female, Dalmatian/Aussie mix named Zephyr. That afternoon Zephyr did something I had never seen her do before. She jumped up on someone, resting her paws on their chest, then quickly got down as I verbally directed her. But she did it again...and again...and again!...and...to more than one person.

Zephyr had caught me so off guard that I never even had the thought to physically restrain her from doing it again. Why hadn't I simply taken her by the collar, apologized, and walked away?

Everyone involved appeared both surprised and almost entertained by her behavior. It was obvious, that for some very uncomfortable moments in time, I did not have control of my dog. 

But this is actually not about Zephyr either.

Laying there awake in the wee hours of the morning, I became immensely disconcerted about Zephyr. That's when I realized the urgency of how much I truly need to regain control of a lot more than a dog. 

This is really about me, I thought.

Just like that warm engulfing sensation you feel when you step into a hot tub and slowly immerse yourself, I felt strangely comforted and even inspired by yesterday's episode. My mental muscles rejuvenated as I lay there pondering the benefits of a more controlled, more disciplined life.  

It was time to get up and lay out a plan.

To have reasonable control of things around me (including a dog), I must first take control of myself. And, control over the physical body begins with mental discipline, because the body won't quit until the mind gives in.

What a person thinks about -- considers, ponders and focuses on -- is what they become. That is a law. So I will tend to my moment by moment ponderings by giving greater heed to the kind of nutrition I'm feeding my mind with. That's fair and simple.

Diligently disciplining the mind will enable my physical body to attain the desired results I seek, for I cannot function well without significant physical endurance and vitality. This will also mean a balanced diet and exercise. 

I may have the good food and great cooking part of it under control, but there remains a very pressing need for me to concentrate on the exercise side of that equation. I am encouraged by knowing I am fully equipped for success.

Next, I can begin to branch out into my environment, to have better control of my surroundings. This will include my/our dogs, my home and yard, the care of my mother, and...even taxes. 

All these things have one essential aspect when it comes to control  -- the element of time. 

Time~~ (as defined by Juilius O'Hara -- Peter Lorre in Beat the Devil, 1953)

Time. Time. What is time?
Swiss manufacture it.
French hoard it.
Italians squander it.
Americans say it is money.
Hindus say it does not exist.
You know what I say?
I say, time is a crook!

Well, you know what I say? I say, I will need to be more assertive in how I utilize my time, because time is an irreplaceable commodity that requires stewardship.

There it is...all laid out. I cannot -- I will not -- fail. I can only succeed. I will regain the control I desire and need in my life. 

And...

       I will have the presence of mind to simply take Zephyr by the collar, apologize, and walk away.

Seriously...No Comment

I know it's hard to believe, but in pondering my extensive lack of words to write, I have made an interesting observation:

It seems that whenever I have to actually take the time out to seriously focus on my life, then take the time to do what is needed to adjust or fix all my ongoing affairs, I simply have no opinion -- one way or another -- on what anyone else is doing with theirs...or...even my own, for that matter.

I have yet to decide whether this is a good thing...
                                                                             or not ;~)

There Is Always A Choice

Just finished reading my conclusion of last year's journal writings: nearly every entry speaks of balance, focus, purpose and freedom. It's interesting to realize that God's Word answers each of those things, when it is truly the only rule of faith and practice. With that Word, life becomes simple, balanced, focused, purposeful and I become free.

Courtesy of HubPages.com

Change. Now there's another wonderful theme. I believe that one is befitting 2012. It only takes a teeny tiny tweak to alter the course of any subject, and I have a few subjects that really need to find new paths to travel on.

There are decisions I can make -- that I have control over -- which can make a difference in not only a day, but my week, and thus my year. 

It can be something as simple as grocery shopping Friday (or even Monday) mornings, rather than Sunday (or even Saturday) afternoons. Or, taking a shower at 6 AM rather than in the afternoon. Or, riding my bike in the mornings while our 3 dogs nap. Each choice I make to vary my norm in the here and now, will alter my future.

If a particular picture (physical or mental) upsets -- causes mumblings or possibly even depression -- then get a new or different picture! Why hold on to something that makes us feel miserable? 

Contrary to what our minds may occasionally try to tell us, ...there is always a choice.

I'm Going to Do It

Starting today. This is it. I've simply let it go way too long. That's the sum and gist of it all. 

I mean, why not? There's absolutely nothing stopping me. As a matter of fact, everything in the universe -- and I mean "everything" -- is compelling me to move on it. Ignoring it is affecting way too many other things...and especially, people. Isn't that the true deciding factor? Affecting people? 

Well, perhaps...but the real crux of the issue is that the "people" it's affecting is moi...

Me :~)

So, this is it. Finally. I am going to take care of...me. :~))

What does this all mean? What is "it?"

Clutter!!!!!!!!!!! Not-so-good, old fashioned, clutter!

Oh...so you have a similar issue!?? And here I thought I was the only one who let things go this far. Hhhhmmmmmm...

I'm pulling out a dark green 33 gallon bag from the garage and heading over to those junk and "keepsake" drawers and closets. Then some quick and final decisions: throw? sell? or store? No inbetween-ers. No exceptions. 

To be vigilant in life, one must be clear headed. To be truly clear, one must travel light -- both mentally and physically. For many many months now, most of my efforts have been on the mental. It is time to set in order my physicals.

What are you doing to make way for what you love in life?

"W" is for Whose Fault is it, Anyway?

Often I am amazed at the growing number of people who actually believe that circumstances, or even other people, govern who they've become and who they will be in the future. Whose fault is it, anyway?

• If my neighbor hadn't ignored me like that back then, I'd probably be a little bit more friendly now.
• If it wasn't so cold and windy every single day, the yard work would probably be done by now.
• If you hadn't talked to me in that tone, I'd probably be more willing to listen to you right now.
• If people were paying more attention to their driving, I probably wouldn't have had to cut you off.

Let's see how it works when I get rid of the "if." How about some really real stuff, like family...

• My dad always yelled about everything; that's why it's really hard for me not to do the same thing.

 Here's the flip side, which isn't any better, because it's still for the wrong reason:

• My dad always yelled about everything; that's why I refuse to react in the same way now.

Or, maybe it's siblings...

• My brothers always treated me with such indifference; that's why I'm always struggling with low self-esteem.

Same thing, but a different angle:

• My brothers always treated me with such indifference; that's why I refuse to let our boys do that to her now.

Whose fault is it, anyway!!?

Please don't misunderstand me. I am not saying that none of these things ever cross my own mind. But what about those individuals who truly believe these are all genuinely good reasons for behaving the way they do in certain situations. My oh my...whose fault is it, anyway?

• I wouldn't have to switch companies all the time, [if] someone just believed in good customer service.
• I would probably get up earlier on the weekends, [if] I just had something more to get up to.
• I would probably be more willing to get involved, [if] it didn't always feel like they're just using me.
• I know I wouldn't be so sensitive about this, [if] people just treated me with a little more respect and consideration.

Just more of the right ingredients of life and I'd be okay. If I just had a better teacher, a better job, better friends, more money, my spouse acted differently, my kids weren't so crazy, my in-laws didn't live so close...I'd have a better life, and I'd be different. Enter in the infamous "grass is always greener" myth.

Over the years, I have diligently worked to root up each and every one of these horrid little parasites of so-called reason, out of my vocabulary and out of my thinking. They're like weeds. Somehow a new one pops up just when I thought I had them all licked! Or worse yet, 2 or 3 come back for every one I've  discarded. How unending! How frustrating! How tiring this can be!

“You are where you are and what you are because of yourself, because of your own choices and decisions.” ~Brian Tracy, Author and Motivational Speaker

"We are what we are because of our believing, not other people's believing...We will sink to the depths or rise to the heights of our believing." ~Life Lines, Quotations of Victor Paul Wierwille

This gives me a strong sense of control in my life, regardless of what anyone else thinks or does. I am the architect of my own life.

In the midst of it all, I have found comfort and strength in a simple truth about circumstances.

“You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you.” ~Brian Tracy

In short, I have determined within myself to stop re-acting to situations. Instead, I mentally take a step back, look at what just hit the fan, then carefully move forward in a manner that redirects or even resolves what just occurred.

"Oh! You're talking about being pro-active."

Call it what you may, it's still doing whatever works to keep my steps steady and out of the muddy clay of defeat. I am mastering change.

I am what I am...and changing! So...whose fault is it, anyway!!? All mine :~)

~~~~~~~~

"K" is for K - an Affinity; a Kinship

Order at Barnes and Noble

One thing I love about blogging is how much it helps to increase my understanding of words. As I write, I may have a certain word in mind that might be good to use, but I look it up in 3 or 4 sources first, just to be sure it'll say exactly what I want it to. 

Of course, then there's the possibility that a reader may not do the same, i.e. look it up, and just might have a different idea in mind when they read that word. To a certain extent, that's the chance a writer takes. But on the other hand, that's also part of the trust relationship between the one reading and the one writing, i.e. that the words were chosen to the best of that writer's ability in considering his or her audience. But isn't this true of all communications?

Language skills and our use of words should be, I would think, highly respected and guarded, as in protected or preserved. Hard to admit, but integrity in saying what is meant and meaning what one says, is almost a lost art in this day and time. It has become much more commonplace to read between the lines -- almost expected. If authors thought that way as they wrote, we probably wouldn't read books.

So...all of this being said, allow me to share a definition (or two) that I found today for the word, affinity:

1. A spontaneous or natural liking or sympathy for someone or something, 
2. A similarity of characteristics suggesting a relationship; a kinship.

I have a definite affinity with the letter K. You may think I say this simply because my name is Kathy. Aahh...true, but it goes much deeper since my given name was actually Mary Kathleen. You see, because my mom's name is Mary, and Junior doesn't work very well for a girl, they chose to shorten my middle name to Kathy, for...uhh...practical reasons?! That's okay. I finally made my own preferences official, causing a strong affinity for the name, M Kathy.

Etching in a Granite Monument

Another strong affinity is with my maiden last name -- Kalkman. It's German, meaning man who works with stone. This holds special interest to me, because my great grandfather started a monument business called Melrose Granite Company. Both my grandfather and my dad worked for Melrose, not as stoneworkers, but as sales reps for the business. That's a paradox to me, which intrigues me, which somehow causes a greater affinity to that name, which begins with...

Then I married Kelly, whose given name was actually Kevin, who has a brother and only sibling named Kerry. Go figure. You would tend to think I must have a thing for K's. 

 

And to think...I was almost going to write about kites today...of which I have absolutely no known affinity!

"J" is for Jumping Jacks

Have you ever tried to do a thousand jumping jacks? 

You get to 100...200...300...and you just keep going until your legs turn to rubber. Then you finally look down to see if those rubberized appendages are okay, and they aren't even moving...but you thought they were.

You're thinking you should quit. You're thinking it's all good because at least you tried. That's when you hear the voice of your favorite Star Wars' character:

 

"No," scolded Yoda. "Do, or do not. There is no try." 

So you ignore the sensation and continue to "jump" with your arms flaggling in the air as if you no longer own them. You have no idea what number you're on, but someone else is counting for you, so it doesn't matter. 

Then it happens. Suddenly you realize neither your arms or legs are actually moving -- not even twitching -- but somehow your mind is convinced you're still doing jumping jacks. Reality creeps in and you are terribly aware of how silly you must look. 

You glance around only to discover that many of the other jumpers aren't moving either, or have melted to the floor. The leader is still up front, jacking with near p-e-r-f-e-c-t form, while counting aloud. How does he do it?!! you ask yourself. 

Finally, the counting stops. It's over. And...you're still standing! You try to walk away, but can't. So you sit down right in the middle of the floor where you were once-upon-a-time jumping a jack...now...recovering. 

Carefully stretching each muscle as your breath and pulse return to that familiar quiet and steady rhythm, you start to feel as if someone just figured out how to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Ever so slowly, you rise, and methodically walk away.

You know you are no longer the same person. You've changed. But you can't explain exactly how. You smile with satisfaction as a solitary yet powerful thought comes to mind:
     I was still standing :~)

Slow Time Down, Jam Things Up, and Often Start Over

This morning I felt like my days were getting by me unnoticed, and time slipping right through the proverbial fingertips, when a nostalgic tag line came to mind:

         Like sands through the hourglass, 
         so are the days of our lives.

My memory told me I first heard these words filtering through the air when I was a young child, intently building a house of tiny bricks on our family room floor. But memory cannot always be trusted. Apparently, this statement was first used in 1965 by television announcer, Ed Prentiss, for the dramatic serial debut of Days of Our Lives.  This means I had already taken a big intimidating bite into my teen years when my mom began to faithfully watch that show.

What a vivid picture for my young mind! I did not want my life to just slip away like those sands. Those words were just a simple simile, but I rebutted them as if they were allegorically true: What if some grains of sand were a little bigger than the others, wouldn't that cause them to slow down or even jam going through that narrow opening? And besides, hourglasses are turned over when they're done; you just start over. I knew my life would be different. I would slow time down, jam things up, and often start over.

By slowing time down, I actually fit a lot more into my life. Have you ever had a day where you felt that so much happened, it was like living an entire week in one day...in a good way? When I plan my day way ahead of it arriving, I really do slow time down.

But planning a full day also means things can get bottled up - jammed at the gooseneck, so to speak - when even one part doesn't go...as planned. Have you ever had something take 3 hours to complete, that should've only taken half an hour? Some of those other great plans I had for that day will simply have to be placed on hold. But that's okay, since I know how to slow time down.

Then there's the uneventful kind of day where nothing gets accomplished, nothing happens, and it just seems to go by unnoticed. Ever have any of those? If I have two or more in one week, let alone back to back (yikes!). Well, that's where I've got to just flip the hourglass and start over.

Actually, I love "overs." Overs is like hitting erase, only better. There is absolutely no trace, no residue, from what was there before. Memory? Ah heck, you can't totally trust it anyway.

Both my husband and I *love* to do overs. When it's something pretty serious, we even add a "pinky shake" just to seal our agreement. It's a pretty smooth arrangement that works quite well for us.

When it comes to just me though, I seem to always forget I can do overs. But today?... Today, I remembered. Today was an overs kind of day... just for me :~)

Of All the Things

The other day I received an email with the following quote:

                    Of all the things I've learned in life, I know that change is 

                    the strongest truth.

                                                    ~Janice Van Dyck 

Briefly I considered the words, then immediately I wanted to change them. I thought: Change is perhaps the one constant in life, but it is not the strongest truth.

Carefully, I reread it and began to acknowledge that she was not talking about me. She was speaking of all the things she herself has learned in life.

But my thoughts grew louder within me: There is a simple principle - a law - the strongest most powerful law in the entire universe. It's the Law of Believing...all believing equals receiving and all receiving equals believing. It is a greater law than all the other laws of physics, because it transcends everyone of them.

I even began to wonder if others would read what she wrote and even...(gasp)... agree with her! At that point I finally realized I was being tempted, to not only pit the knowledge and understanding I've acquired in life against hers, but to do it in writing. And I didn't even know who she was!

Pausing, I asked myself: Do I really want to get into that kind of writing? Do I really want to start picking apart what others say - whether I think it's relevant or true or vital or not?

Without hesitation, I replied: No, I don't. Absolutely not! There's a place for commentary and opinion writing, but that's not where I want to go - not at all.

Logically, the next question is: Then where do you want to go, Kathy? The answer is simple. I have one purpose - one mission:  

I write with the belief to both inspire and challenge the human experience, welcoming criticism, for there is no person on earth who fails to intrigue me, and thereby touches my soul in some significant way.

It is not my intention to cast opinions that tend to judge the relevance or validity of what someone else may have thought or concluded. My desire and goal in writing would be defeated if I wrote in a framework that might tear down the very place another has reached by scaling their own mountain(s). Honestly, how welcoming would that be?

Totally unaware, Janice Van Dyck has touched my soul in a significant way. She has pushed me to reconsider my purpose and to decide whether or not my mission is still real to me - still where I choose to be. And - of all the things I've learned in life - she has inspired me to write of judgments and comparisons that we, at times unknowingly, superimpose on one another.

Although we've never met, please allow me to say, "Thank you, Janice."

The Architect of My Soul - The Rooms

There is a type of house cleaning I would rather avoid, and then there is the kind I actually relish. The first strikes me as a mundane chore; the second, an anticipated delight.

My mother often voiced how much she hated doing housework because it would never last. She would say, "As soon as I get it all cleaned, someone has to come along and mess it up. It never ends!" I was highly influenced by her remarks, especially when they supported my childish whim towards laziness.

Later in life, I had the privilege to learn that when you've cleaned something, it has the benefit of blessing the very next person who comes along to use it. It's an admirable attitude of service that makes the task worth doing. I've also seen how keeping my house clean keeps my health stronger. Dust-free breathing seems to become more critical the older I get. Imagine that.

In spite of these rich reasons for enjoying the work, along with my deep-rooted conviction to work "heartily as to the Lord," my childhood paradigm tends to win over when it comes to housework, and it all becomes a mundane chore.

But, there is a kind of house cleaning that I am eager to take on each week, or at least monthly. I know others who prefer entering its doors only once a year, but it would become way too daunting for me to follow their steps. This house is my own soul, and the doors open wide to each of the rooms that makes me... me. Those tiny rooms that mysteriously weave together, become the very fabric of my being.

Around 500 BC, a Greek philosopher named Heraclitus, concluded that change is central to the universe. Today we hold that change is the only constant in life, that nothing and no one is ever static. This would mean that at any given point in time, I am either growing or dying. There is no space between the two. Each of us can choose which way we want to go. Personally, I think a growing plant is
                                                                     far more enjoyable than a dying one.

I recently came across this quote by American journalist and Pulitzer Prize-winning, syndicated columnist, Ellen Goodman:

We spend January 1 walking through 
our lives, room by room, drawing up a 
list of work to be done, cracks to be 
patched. Maybe this year, to balance 
the list, we ought to walk through the 
rooms of our lives... not looking for 
flaws, but for potential.

This is the style of house cleaning that, for me, is an anticipated delight. This is where I can imagine and redesign that fabric because I am the architect of my soul. And, who knows? Perhaps, within the process, I will even discover the room wherein lies the change needed to turn a mundane chore into the exciting.

Reliable as Rain Falling Down, Not Up

Does anyone punch holes in the top of large juice cans anymore? You know, with the "other side" of that old bottle cap opener, the pointy triangle end. As a child, it amazed me that to get the juice to pour out of the can nicely, rather than just a blub...blub...blub, a second hole had to be punched in the top of the can across from the first. There was a right way to do it and it worked wonders!

Today you buy coffee or a latte to go and the lid has a tiny hole across from where you sip. I usually don't give it much thought until I tip my cup and not much of that invigorating espresso with the yummy caramel flavor seems to hit my mouth. That's when I immediately inspect that teeny little hole to make sure it's open. It was certainly the right way to make those lids.

Know what makes it right? Because for every inflow there has to be an outflow, and vice versa. It is a law of physics - no less impacting than when Newton said, "what goes up, must come down."

I love to write. What writer doesn't? Then what in the world could possibly stop the flow of those beautifully orchestrated metaphors and lingering states of suspended disbelief I know I am so capable of? And yet, at times, the writer in me just does one of those blub...blub...blub's. That's when I inspect my teeny little hole to make sure it's open, and possibly even make it a bit larger.

If I want to receive anything I need in my life, I know I have to give. That's right. It's another one of those crazy physical laws like Newton's. I will need to get completely away from the narcissistic side of my personality that thinks what I'm currently doing is all important, and freely give. Albeit, this may seem to be a might difficult in this particular moment, since I'm right in the middle of confronting my own worst enemy: writer's block or, what's right block.

Actually, I have found this to be a perfect time to go to one of my social networks to see who's asking for an opinion, or perhaps initiate some new discussion, or maybe even let another artist know how much I enjoy their work. What a fantastic playground to relieve my stress and simply... give! Rather than visiting my writers' group for help, on this occasion I look for how I can help someone else. Usually this causes a far greater influx of writing possibilities than anything I ever give out.

Not only have I found my teeny little hole, but I cleared it, and even made the opening a bit larger. My writing flows just right. How? By freely giving. The Law of Giving stops the blub...blub...blub and is reliable as rain falling down, not up :~)

One Tiny Tweak

It only takes one tiny tweak to change the course of any life. If I am traveling a straight line and I veer off of it by even a fraction of a degree, at some point that new line I'm on will be miles away from the original. When constructing a building, veering would not be wise. That is one reason masons use string when laying brick. But when a person feels worn out, frustrated and is frequently complaining about life, it's definitely time for a tweak. And isn't it a great relief to realize it'll only take one. teeny. tiny. tweak. to change the direction of your life? to become who you dream of being?

The easiest change to make in all of our daily habits and routines, is to vary the order of just one thing, and the new line is drawn. Such a small adjustment to make. But we are creatures of habit, and to move a regular afternoon routine to the morning, for example, can be quite an undertaking. It's easier if looked at as a one-time adventure, keeping in mind that it's just the one. tiny. tweak. that will absolutely be worth more than any of the discomfort that is felt, when all is said and done.

I made just such a tweak one day last March. I did my grocery shopping on a completely different day than my usual Saturday, and in the morning instead of the afternoon. Many different and interesting little things happened that day, bringing about another tweak in April. I simply joined Facebook. But that's where I met a really cool friend who does a food blog and I became her copy editor. By August I believed I could do my own blog. So, now I'm finally back to writing... after nearly a 30 year break... joined a couple writers' groups, and have decided to write my first book. I am doing what I always dreamed of, and all I did was go to the grocery store at a different time than I usually went. Imagine that.

Perhaps, if you tell me about the one tiny tweak you're deciding to do - however small it may be - it will inspire others to do their own, and help me to tweak some more, too :~)

The Architect of My Soul - Canvas or Drawing Board

Today I pull out the blank canvas. I need to repaint my life - again. Maybe I need to see things bigger this time; maybe I'm more than just a painter. Perhaps I should decide to be the architect - the one who plans, designs, and takes the oversight of the construction. Then I won't be having to revisit this subject - again. That's gotta be the answer.  I'll just become "The Architect of My Soul." (Of course, I say this as if I was the first one who's ever coined the phrase.)

So no blank canvas today. Instead, I'm sitting up to a blank drawing board. I'm actually more familiar with this medium anyway. I took 2 years of mechanical drafting in high school, AND, I was quite good at it I might add. But first, before I lay it all out, I must plan. That will take some serious consideration and thought and... time. Already this seems to be involving much more effort than I'm willing to put into it right now. (sigh)

Perhaps painting would be simpler after all - definitely easier. HGTV always points out how the easiest way to change where you live is: paint. The only plan needed is to decide a color scheme, and I already have one picked out.  It's relatively simple just to stick with what I know I already like.

Meanwhile, back to the drawing bo--- or, uh, I mean, ...blank canvas!  Right? So, I'm going to repaint my life. Right? Wait a minute... then what have I really changed? I'm just going to 'stick with what I know I already like" anyway. Isn't that the path I've taken before? Isn't this why I decided in the first place to pull out the blank canvas today? And, isn't it because of all these things that I concluded I actually need an architect? Yes, I believe so. And... that would be me; I'm the architect (and I'm not referring to The Matrix). I am:

The Architect of My Soul.