When we think of people going mad, the mental images of their insanity can manifest in a million different ways.
We might picture the tortured soul giggling, huddled in a corner, with eyes devoid of coherent thought. We could envision someone enraged and mercilessly searching for their next victim to mutilate. And sometimes, we imagine them simply closing in on themselves, shutting out the world, and stowing away any of the traits that made them “normal.”
Well, my internal monologue went mad this past weekend.
It’s not the first, and I’m certain, it won’t be the last time this happens, but my inner voice took a long walk off the short pier of reason.
After three weeks of battling a sinus infection that morphed into bronchitis and then into a “touch” of pneumonia, I was already feeling pretty run down. After being told, “You should be better” and “It’s been three weeks. You think you’d be over it,” by two people that I love, I felt even worse.
As the day wore on, I found myself home alone. In my efforts to be a valuable member of our home and society, I did some dishes. As I scrubbed the dishes, the dark thoughts kept washing over me.
“Do they think I enjoy not being able to breathe?”
“It might just be better if I DID stop breathing.”
“Seriously, if I just gave up, at least my coughing and nose-blowing wouldn’t annoy them anymore.”
The thoughts went on and on. The dishes got done. The floor got swept. I was out of breath, depleted of energy, and maybe just a little bit angry.
In order to maintain my status as “Meanest Mom Ever,” I assign chores to my children. One of the most frequent tasks assigned is that of unloading and reloading the dishwasher. In response to their frequent whining about the task, I, in true “seven miles up hill, both ways, in the snow” fashion, sadly lament that I didn’t have a dishwasher growing up.
If grumbling continues, I remind them of when our last dishwasher died and we went weeks without one. To emphasize the experience, I will start filling the sink with hot, soapy water and invite them to go ahead and wash the dirty dishes by hand. I encourage them to dry those dishes AND put them away, IF they can’t find the energy to take care of the fully functional dishwasher. (It’s child abuse at its finest.)
The other day, I found myself in need of one of these “Don’t forget you’ve got it” reminders as well. Everywhere I walked in my house, I noticed things begging for my attention. Too much laundry to fold, too many floors in need of sweeping, too much mail to sort, and more sticky notes with stuff to do than I could muster the strength to tackle. It was truly a first-world crisis.
To distract myself from the despair of too much to do, I did what any normal human would do. I chose to scroll through Facebook. One of the very first posts that popped up in my feed was from Ms. Sunshine. I love her posts because they are always short, sweet, and uplifting. That particular day, her message was a bullseye to my heart, reminding me that I had way too much to be grateful for.
Each and every day, we have blessings and burdens laid at our feet. Their significance is determined by how much power we give them through our actions and intentions. Do we remember to go heavy on the thanks, or do we overload our focus with our problems?
I felt like someone turned on the hot, soapy water in the sink for me and said, “Are you gonna clean your attitude up the hard way? Or are you going to take full advantage of your abilities to make a difference?”
After sharing Ms. Sunshine’s post, I put down my mind-zapping, cellular device and got back to getting things done. Later that night (after my attitude and house were cleaner), I revisited my Facebook feed and was pleasantly surprised to see how many of my friends “liked” and shared the Ms. Sunshine post.
Maybe they all needed a “Don’t forget you’ve got it” reminder, too, or maybe their purpose for the day was to broadcast that reminder to others. Any which way, gratitude got some attention, and attitudes got some adjusting.
Here’s your Intentergy positive purpose for today: Go heavy on the “Thank you, God, for everything” and remember that you have an abundance of tasks, chores, and opportunities available to dedicate some energy towards. You’ve got so much going for you that the possibilities may seem overwhelming. There are tons of people out there cheering for you. The world is full of resources, energy, education, and joy. The key is: Don’t forget you’ve got it all at your disposal.
By: Melanie A. Peters
P.S. No children or dishes were harmed in the unloading or reloading of the dishwasher, and a little hand washing won’t hurt anyone.
P.P.S. At least we have running water and soap to clean the plates that had been covered in healthy, delicious food.
In this world, there are all kinds of people, but it recently occurred to me that there seem to be two types of wishers among the throngs of earthly inhabitants. Some wish for the unknown, while others wish for what they know to be comfortable. On the trip of a lifetime, Hubby and I had the opportunity to hike in Juneau, Alaska, with friends. It was AMAZING!
As we trekked 5 miles into the Alaskan forest, one of the natural occurrences that our guide pointed out was that many trees had fallen along the path, completely revealing their roots because the soil is so shallow.
The fragility of the trees’ stability was fascinating because the tree roots where we live rarely come out of their deeply embedded homes without the help of a tornado or bulldozer.
Despite their seemingly easy downfall, the Alaskan trees managed to keep their roots together.
I don’t think I would be able to hold all my facets from flailing in every direction if I toppled in such a massive fashion.
As we made our descent, my gal pal and I marveled at how lucky we were to witness the Alaskan beauty and how hard it was to wrap our brains around just how massive the wilderness is. Walking arm-in-arm, we were in rapture.
My sweet friend, being the magical wish-maker that she is, said, “The only thing that would make this hike more perfect is if Sasquatch walked across the trail in front of us.”
Do piles seem to produce at an alarmingly fast pace in your workspace? Do you sometimes look at your desk, kitchen, or closet and think, “Where did all this come from?”
Well, you, my friend, are in luck!
Your piles present you with the distinct privilege of being someone who can move mountains. Those mounds of miscellaneous papers, projects, and housework are your key to making things happen. You have fertile fields of clutter.
Albert Einstein is often referenced in discussions about cluttered desks due to his quandary about the relationship between empty desks and empty minds. I have always embraced this sentiment when surveying the insanity of my office; however, Anne Lamott helped me to appreciate my cluttered chaos in a new way when I read her book, Bird by Bird.
“Clutter is wonderfully fertile ground – you can still discover new treasures under all those piles, clean things up, edit things out, find things, get a grip.” – Anne Lamott
In June of 2024, our friends Barb and Eric invited us to join them for their 25th Anniversary trip on an Alaskan cruise. Hubby has always wanted to visit Alaska, and I was excited about the potential for a vacation. Without a second thought, we were Alaska-bound!
The cruise, however, required us to fly from St. Louis, MO to Seattle, WA. Flying is not Hubby’s favorite means of transportation, but he was willing to forgo his fears for the sake of Alaska. Casting his concern aside was well worth it, as our cruise was wonderful and Alaska was GORGEOUS!
On our flight back, the pilot announced overhead: “The seatbelt signs are now on, and everyone should remain securely buckled in their seats. We are flying through some rainstorms, and turbulence is to be expected.”
Looking out our window, there was nothing but blue skies and white, puffy clouds. There were no signs of turbulence ahead.
When the plane did its whole rocking and shaking thing (a.k.a. turbulence), the view remained unchanged. Fortunately, the disruption in our airborne peace did not last long.
After the flight, we were discussing the rocky portion of our ride. Hubby said he had been on planes with much more severe turbulence, and those pilots never made any kind of warning announcement. Our pilot’s heads-up made him feel better about the upcoming instability and helped him remain calm despite the storm.
Wouldn’t it be nice if we always had this kind of white, puffy turbulence?
I think this is a question I’ve needed to ask for a while now.
As I’ve ventured through the process of seeking healthy boundaries, there is a situation that has been nagging at my heart. (See my recent post “All Full Up – New Perspectives on Boundaries” )
It took me over a year to realize a former friend was just that. Former.
After 12 months of unreturned cards, calls, texts, and messages without a hint as to why for me to say, “It’s not me.”
After 2 years and 5 months, it shouldn’t hurt that someone severed ties bound by 18 years of friendship, but, dang, it hurts.
Here’s the good news. I am not alone. There are roughly 8,092,034,510* other humans roaming this planet, who could be my friend.
Your odds are just as good (if not better based on your geographic location). This statistic is formulated from the Census.gov projection that on January 1, 2025 there were 8,092,034,511 people on Earth.
So, even if one person has moved on or you have chosen to go a separate way from someone else, the world is full of other possibilities. Possibilities for you to find friendship, support, and love.
If you are in a lonely situation or a place of being put aside, I hope you find solace in the fact that you have options. The odds are favorable that others have felt the same way. Even better there is someone out there to help you heal because, hey, they’ve been there too!
The Intenergy message here is that we are not alone. Ending a relationship or losing a connection with someone hurts. We can’t avoid those kinds of suffering, but we can give ourselves some grace as we move, grow, or heal when a relationship falls apart. We can embrace the potential for new friendships or greater development of old ones. With 8,092,034,510* other folks making their way through this world, we are bound to find someone to build a connection with and fulfill our lives in healthy, loving, and productive ways. You are not alone (verified by Census.gov).
By: Melanie A. Peters
P.S. The * is due to the fact that 8,092,034,511 is an estimate. People are always being born and passing away, and I wasn’t sure I should count you or myself in the estimate because I am the one experiencing a loss and maybe you are the exception because you are looking for a new friend. ANYWAY, the * means there are still lots of possibilities for friendships, love, and bonds out there.
P.P.S. I love ALL my friends, even if we haven’t spoken for a while OR they didn’t choose Kentucky to win on their March Madness bracket.
Between January 7th and February 18th, my family celebrates 14 birthdays. You read that right, 14 BIRTHDAYS. Within that window of time, two of my best friends revel in the anniversary of their births as well. This adds up to a lot of birthday cake and other first-world problems.
So while in a sugar coma, I pondered all the problems that come along with so much celebrating.
First, I had to clean my house because people might recognize that we live here between birthday parties.
Second, I was forced to shop for gifts to bestow upon the birthday boys and girls within days of another fairly large holiday (Darn Christmas!).
Third, the NOISE. Sleepovers, trampoline parks, an excited dog, and a basement full of party-goers produced a lot of noise.
Will someone please make their birthday wish for tranquility?
Despite my tragic first-world fiascos, I want to just say that I am grateful for a home to share with others and all the laundry, dishes, food, papers, books, toys, and electronic cords that pile up.
I am exceptionally thankful for the humans who drag all the laundry, dishes, food, papers, books, toys, and electronic cords through my home. They provide purpose and subjects to smother with love and attention.
My friend Emily sent a text announcing that her 2025 will officially begin on February 1st. (I received this message on January 21st.)
I replied, “We all have to start somewhere.”
If your 2025 has started a little rocky, you are not alone.
Since January 1st, we’ve lost four buildings, a couple thousand turkeys, and some cattle on our farm to Mother Nature and her nasty ice and snow fits.
The building Hubby and our crew retrofitted after one of the turkey barns collapsed completely froze up and enough portable heaters had to be procured to warm the poor, traumatized birds inside. It’s not easy to find heaters in the middle of an Arctic depression.
My family planned to celebrate my grandmother’s 97th birthday this past weekend at her nursing home. A COVID outbreak occurred 48 hours before the party and the celebration had to be canceled. (Please pray for the nursing home staff and residents.)
My daughter’s cell phone was lost in the one fun thing she didlast week (sledding) before Snowmagedon, and we have not relocated it.
AND I’ve been suffering from a nasty cold that has my brain, ears, and nose all clogged up. (Yuck!)
Some serious clean-up is needed to get past this dumpster fire of the first three weeks.
Do-overs aren’t really an option. We can’t turn back time, but we can create a reset for ourselves. Here are three things I’ve decided to focus on in an attempt to celebrate our newly established New Year:
#1. It’s important to acknowledge we are not alone. #2. Sometimes we have to take the trash out before we can see the clean start before us. #3. We all have to start somewhere.
Here’s the good news. The first three weeks are behind us and there are 49 glorious 7-day series ahead ready for us to find success. Finding the right place to start is imperative because we all have to start somewhere.
How do we decide what trash to take out? How do we reclaim that fresh start?
Let’s revisit our checklist: #1. It’s important to acknowledge we are not alone. #2. Sometimes we have to take the trash out before we can see the clean start before us. #3. We all have to start somewhere.
A huge portion of the time I feel like my family doesn’t think I’m smart enough to wipe my own butt. (If you have teenagers, you know.) Even more often I believe the people I encounter in daily life think I’m a cheeseburger short of a Happy Meal. Why is that?
Do you ever feel this way?
Even though we have immediate access to infinite information at our fingertips, we all seem to doubt our own ability or the ability of others to have a lick of sense. We have all developed complexes that make us feel either too smart for our own good or too dumb to function.
There’s nothing smart about either of those mindsets and it makes me want to borrow the words of Stewart Smalley from Saturday Night Live, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And, doggone it, people like me.”
I want to get to the point where I can confidently say, “Shut up, insecurity. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I’m just as guilty as the next guy for using knowledge to puff up my self-esteem in certain situations and act like a know-it-all. (I always want to kick myself later for being snotty.) There’s something to be said for admitting we don’t have all the answers and even more to lifting others up for the knowledge and skills they possess.
It’s important to value the intelligence of individuals and recognize that it’s our unique knowledge and skills that make the world go round. If you aren’t feeling like the brightest crayon in the box, it’s okay. Broken crayons still color and can be molded to make a difference that lightens any situation.
Fear of the unknown has to be one of the scariest things I can think of, but sometimes my inquisitive nature gets the better of me and I JUST HAVE TO KNOW. One such adventure presented itself on a visit to the Missouri Botanical Gardens. In one of the garden’s centers, there was a hexagon-shaped glass case, illuminated with red lights, and labeled “Vivian’s Burrow.” (I named it the “Hexagon of Uncertainty.”)
To discover Vivian’s identity, guests have to climb into the stand and view the burrow from inside the glass. There is no way to escape quickly if what’s inside that burrow is too scary. Its inhabitant will be right there, in your face, until you can wiggle your way back out. You could be temporarily trapped at eye-to-eye with uncertainty and your greatest fear.
I JUST HAD to see who Vivian was.
(Rachel was not as “curious” and did NOT venture into the “Hexagon of Uncertainty.”)
Me inside the “Hexagon of Uncertainty” looking for Vivian’s Burrow
I am not particularly fond of any rodent, to be honest, so I was slightly afraid that I was going to find myself nose to nose with some sort of mousey creature.
Intentergy 