Last week I heard someone say, “Fear is what you feed it.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, but for some reason this time the adage activated my little, blog-writing mind. I began thinking about all the fears I have been feeding lately. Holiday planning pressures, parenting failures, scheduling screw-ups, physical fitness, and financial flops were just a few of my starving stressors.
To assuage my anxious appetite, I planned to attend a Stretch and Flex class at the gym. It’s a yoga-inspired class that is calming and physically challenging all at once.
I was stoked.
Unfortunately, I was also at the gym at the WRONG time.
When I arrived, I saw the yoga mats being rolled up and stationary bikes being rolled out. What!?! Stretch and Flex was the 5:00 a.m. class. I had just showed up for the 5:50 a.m. spin class.
This did not look relaxing. This looked like I was going to have to get on a bike. (I have never been much of a bike rider and the idea of a spin class frightened me.)
My friend Kristen, the class instructor, was elated to see me and rushed to adjust MY bike seat to the correct height and help shove my feet in the strap, cage-looking contraptions on the pedals. (What if I fell off? I was going to be hung up in a stationary bike. This was going to be rough.) Kristen kindly showed me where to put my water bottle and placed a hand weight on my handlebars. Apparently, I was ready for spin class.
Have you ever been down and gotten lucky enough for someone to recognize that you needed a lift?
Recently, Hubby discovered a calf that was stuck in a hole. He rescued the poor guy from a situation where the calf couldn’t see a way out.
The crazy thing about Hubby finding this calf was that if he hadn’t paid attention to the entire herd, he would not have noticed the mama cow off by herself. Hubby knew she had a calf and it was odd for her to be alone.
When he sought out the cow, he discovered the hole AND the problem.
Walking through the field the fallen calf could not be seen. It was not until Hubby investigated the lonely mama’s situation that he recognized the cause of her duress hidden by the tall grass around the hole.
(The orange arrow marks the calf’s location.)
Because he took the time to see what was wrong, Hubby was able to lift the calf from the hole and reunite the mama with her baby. He found a way to relieve their stress and help resolve their problem.
How are you at recognizing there is a hole in someone’s day?
We have arrived at the time of the year when giving thanks is officially the cool thing to do. There’s an entire holiday dedicated to the act of gratefulness. With the Thanksgiving spirit in mind, the Intentergy Positivity Challenge for November is to challenge yourself to 30 days of intentional thanksgiving.
My personal 30 Day Challenge is to write and send or deliver a thank you letter to someone each day in November. Keeping up with my tradition of card-making and lifting spirits with homemade greetings is something that brings great joy to my life, and, hopefully, those that receive my cards.
If card-making isn’t your thing, consider sending thank-you texts or emails. You can also support local shops by purchasing cards to send to those for whom you are thankful.
Pinterest is always a terrific go-to for ideas on giving. Here are a few Gratitude Challenges I found to get you through the 30 days of November. Give one of them a try!
In addition to sending 30 Thank You cards, I plan to challenge myself to the Instagram Thankfulness Photo Challenge below.
Whatever you choose to do for November, know I am grateful that you took the time to read this post. I’m thankful for your open mind and willing spirit. I wish you much success in putting Intentergy into your thanksgiving efforts and hope your holidays give you even more to be grateful for.
The topic of this post popped up frequently in some pretty impactful places for me in the last few weeks. It all started when I shared my feelings in the post, “I am Not Okay – Stuck on Repeat.” Seeking out help from nutritionist and trainer, Denise Coots, spoke volumes about how lost I was feeling. I had allowed myself to get to the point where I lost touch with my self-value and was exhausted by the disconnect. I can honestly say that meeting with Denise and the kind support of others who read my post has bolstered me significantly and life has been much easier to keep up with ever since.
My friend Sheila told me that she really appreciated my post and related because she sees a therapist to help make sense of her emotions sometimes. Sheila and I agreed that the negative stigma of seeing a counselor is so unfair. She beautifully stated that sometimes we need someone separate from our everyday lives to help us release everything we are holding in. We need a “trained release recipient.” I told her I LOVED that idea and needed to share it!
The following evening, I had dinner with my friend Tricia, who happens to be a licensed therapist. She and I always have a terrific time talking about our families, but after every visit, we agree that our times together are good for our souls because we discuss whatever we are struggling with emotionally and professionally. I mentioned to Tricia the stereotypes that people have about seeing a professional counselor and the fact that many believe friends and family are enough. She told me that very stigma is a constant challenge in her career and stands in the way of her attempts to help others find the healing that they need. And sometimes the family or friends that people open up to are like Lucy, from The Peanuts cartoons. They are willing to listen for a price or their prescription for getting better is to get over it. Clearly, those are not “trained release recipients.”
Two days later, I said hello to a fellow parent watching his child at gymnastics. I could tell he was new and nervous. He wasn’t sure where to sit and kept a vigilant eye on his daughter. I asked how his day was going. He told me, in an agitated voice, that all the people watching those little girls made him nervous, but he had promised his daughter he would let her try gymnastics on the day that he had custody. It was a statement that shared A LOT of information about his situation.
He had several tattoos on his arms, including two from the Army. I thanked him for his service to our country. He turned to me and told me I was really smart. I wasn’t sure how my gratitude made me intelligent, but I thanked him for the compliment. He told me that he knew I was smart because I identified the one thing that meant something to him besides his daughter.
He immediately told me he moved to Missouri to be near his daughter because her mother was from here. Continuing, he told me that he was getting medical and psychological treatment at the local V.A. Hospital. Without prompting, he shared that he never thought a therapist could help him. He always thought going to a psychiatrist made him seem crazy, but the doctors there were helping him feel like he could be normal and maybe find love again someday. Wow! That was A LOT of unsolicited information. Clearly, this dad was seeking connections with others, and the inspiration about “trained release recipients” continued to come my way.
If you have found yourself in a situation where you feel completely lost or need a voice of reason that hasn’t already spoken to you, I encourage you to find a “trained release recipient” who will productively listen to your problems and guide you to solutions. There is nothing wrong with asking for help from a certified therapist, counselor, or nutritionist. Seek out someone who has the skills and training to help establish a healthier, happier existence. Positive purpose is often found when you connect with someone who has the expertise to motivate your intent and energy in productive ways. Let go of the stigma of just-get-over-it and get yourself a “trained release recipient.”
By: Melanie A. Peters
P.S. Charlie Brown was on to something when he stepped into Lucy’s office; he was just a little misguided. He should sue for false advertising.
They turn outings to the grocery store into memorable outbursts of embarrassment and feelings of parenthood failure.
Recently, one of my little buddies invited me to play monster trucks with him, I got lucky enough to pick up the Monster Truck called Hissy Fit. Upon discovery of that serpent-covered Hot Wheels, a traffic jam of memories rolled through my mind. The memories included meltdowns manufactured by my children, students, and even some of my own personal hysterics.
Do you ever feel like you have been hit by a monster hissy fit?
The hissy fit doesn’t have to come from a loved one.
The fit can sneak up on you from within.
I know that I have lashed out at my unsuspecting husband and children when they had no idea the emotion truck was about to roll into our house. It may have been stress from that day or lack of sleep from the previous nights, but I know I have made a demolish derby out of basic dinner conversation a time or two.
Not too long ago, when I was innocently teasing my daughter, she took her own emotional detour, and painfully for me Hubby turned with her. I was blindsided by their accusations that I always intentionally aggravate her. It hurt and left me shattered inside.
Without a doubt, this calf was born super. He has all the markings of Spiderman or a WWE wrestler. There is no magic charm or superpower that could change his appearance. Unless he’s found a mirror somewhere in the pasture, he has no idea that his markings manifest the fact that he is bound for greatness.
I think we are all born naturally super. It’s hard to see our exceptionality sometimes when we look in the mirror.
I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to feeling unattractive, imperfect, or goofy-looking. I have yet to meet anyone who looks in the mirror every day and says, “Dang! I am perfect.”
If you do this and are sincere in your proclamation, please share your secret.
Until then, I will probably continue to lament my big ears, mommy belly, and the birthmark on my hip.
Despite my lamentations and the self-mortification felt by most, there is one thing that we can find solace in and that is the fact that we are naturally super in the eyes of those who love us. We were created in the image of God to make the world a more beautiful and diverse place.
Last summer as my friend Jackie was recovering from a very serious health scare, I pleaded with her to tell me how I could help. She said, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not a parrot and I can’t just say what you want to hear.” I told her I didn’t want her to be a parrot, I wanted her to be honest with me about what we needed to do to get her back on track. I asked her to give me two or three things I could do to assist in her recovery. And that’s where we began.
I think we’ve all been in situations where we didn’t know where to start or what to say. Sometimes finding a starting point seems harder than reaching the finish line. All too often, we play the role of the parrot telling others what we believe they want to hear because it’s easier than asking for what we really need.
When I had wrist and elbow surgery last December, I had friends and family ask how they could help. I didn’t want to be a burden, especially during such a busy holiday season, so I just told them to pray for me. (Prayer is always a GREAT idea.) However, once my arm was in that cast and I was feeling the pain of recovery, it was a whole lot easier to ask for what I needed. We shouldn’t have to feel pain in asking for help.
When I was a kid, one of the most exciting parts of going back to school was new “school” shoes. In keeping that tradition alive, I always make a big deal about new shoes for my kiddos when shopping for school supplies. This year was no different, except for the fact that my 13-year-old refused to get new sneakers. His feet had outgrown every pair of shoes he owned, but it did not matter. He refused to even look at a pair of tennis shoes.
Normally, my son is a sneaker-head. He LOVES shoes, particularly basketball and baseball footwear.
When I asked him why he didn’t want new shoes, he said, “I’m saving you and Dad money.”
I then asked, “If I don’t buy you new school shoes, do you believe I won’t make you go back to school?”
He gave me a sly grin and said, “Maybe.”
He is ridiculous. His ankles were hurting. Due to the holes in his shoes, his toes had experienced multiple traumas. He complained of his knees aching. Never did he realize that it might have had something to do with his tragic choice of footwear.
When I invited my friend Katie to join in on my restorative sabbatical at a nearby AirBnB cabin, I packed good food, comfortable clothes, wine, and books. Not surprisingly, Katie packed similar supplies for our excursion. The most pleasant surprise though was found in Katie’s bag of books and magazines. Without prior discussion, my gal pal and I packed the same book, The Noticer by Andy Andrews. We were book twinning!
With millions of book titles in the world, it was kookie kismat that Katie and I independently chose identical titles for our escape.
“So what?” you might say. “What does book twinning have to do with anything?”
Daily I complete what feels like a zillion, small tasks in hopes of making a significant difference in the lives of those around me. I put a whole lot of faith in the belief that I am doing the right things as a parent and wife and accomplishing all the roles God calls me to fill. Most of the time, I do not experience the euphoria of success, in particular when it comes to being a parent.
My kids torture one another. My little darlings fight over the MOST RIDICULOUS things. They forget stuff I consider important, like homework or chores. They treat our home as if is their personal dumpster to discard shoes, socks, food wrappers, soda bottles, and empty cups wherever they please. It is enough to make this mama’s heart hurt and ask, “Lord, am I doing anything right?”
In Matthew 17:20, when the disciples weren’t sure if their faith was enough, Jesus reassured them by saying, “…Amen, I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (New American Bible).
All too often, I feel like saying, “Lord, I’ve got all kinds of seeds planted. When am I gonna move those mountains?”
I guess we have to consider what a “mountain” looks like because sometimes they aren’t as big as we expected in the beginning.
Intentergy 