Have you ever loved someone enough to stand in front of a crowd of family, friends, and coworkers and bash that person? Have you shared stories of their failures, personal problems, and, most likely, their greatest insecurities?
Well, I have.
Did it feel good?
It absolutely did.
What is wrong with me?
Nothing.
What’s wrong with my little sister?
Apparently, a lot of things.
To celebrate my sister reaching a monumental age, my brother-in-law planned a Toast and Roast.
He invited guests to gift my sister with sarcasm, trash talk, and general degradation of her character.
It was phenomenal!
Who knew that slander and verbal abuse could bring people together in such a glorious light?!?
After the roasters had laid out their lines of laughable insult, the birthday girl was given a turn to bash them back.
As my sister took the stage, I was slightly fearful that the roasts had burned a little too deep. She walked up and said, “This was the weirdest birthday party I’ve ever had, so, uh, I guess, thanks?”
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
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.
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.
What do you do when your buddy Timmy gives you four 5-gallon buckets of jalapeños? You get creative with jalapeño.
Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Hubby took Timmy up on the offer to pick some peppers, cucumbers, zucchini, and squash from his massive garden late this past summer. I was excited about the fresh produce and eager to give at least one new recipe a try. Little did I know I would soon be up to my eyeballs in stems, seeds, and researching ways to preserve the plentiful peppers.
Each day I spent 2 hours slicing and seeding peppers by hand for the first two or three days. These carefully crafted slices went into pickled jalapeños. Of course, I wore gloves to protect my skin from the spicy juices but my hands and wrists started to get a little worn out by Day 3. I pulled out my little Pampered Chef food processor and started blending away at the buckets of peppers, but didn’t make much headway because of the blender’s small capacity. Plus, I had moved on to trying a second new recipe. This time I was attempting to make jalapeño relish, and we weren’t too sure if we would like it or use it much. (*We did like it. ** We used it a lot.)
Hubby asked why I didn’t have a bigger blender. I told him because Santa hadn’t brought it yet. Well, Santa came in August with a fancyshmancy, BIG blender. It was going to be perfect for peppers, zucchini, slaw, all the things…. but it was really BIG. The jalapenos were plentiful but petite. This is when we really had to shake things up with how we sliced our peppers.
Just like snowflakes, no two problems are the same. The good thing about snowflakes and problems is that they can both be temporary and lead us to witness beautiful things.
For the January Positivity Challenge, let’s think of our problems as snowflakes and let the chill of worrying about our misfortunes melt away. We can celebrate the fact that they are temporary and can be unexpectedly beneficial.
For Christmas, Hubby and I decided to take the kids on a vacation instead of giving them “stuff.” We were excited to share with them the gifts of time and experience. When we announced our plans two weeks before Christmas, their reactions were nowhere near what we expected. Our 11-year-old was full of questions about how much soda he could drink on the trip. The 13-year-old was like, “Yeah, I’ll go, but I’d rather go somewhere else.” The 16-year-old left the dinner table in tears because she could not believe we would force her to go somewhere with us without her friends.
Despite their less-than-eager reactions, the trip was booked and our sweet minions took their first-ever flight on Christmas morning. The kids complained about the early hour of our departure, but because of our timing, they got to witness a brilliant sunrise while on their first-ever flight. ❄️ #1
On Christmas morning there were not a lot of restaurants open, this was a problem because everyone was STARVING. When we finally found an IHOP open, we were seated in a corner booth and everyone had something fancy and delicious to eat. The holiday-themed decor, music, menu, and our festively dressed server made the meal feel like we were in a Hallmark Chrismas movie. ❄️#2
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.
Intentergy 