Mask Thoughts

You know when you're driving and everyone going slower than you is an idiot, while everyone going faster than you is a maniac? That's a little bit how it feels right now with this pandemic. Allow me to explain.

Everyone is doing this pandemic a little bit differently. Okay, sometimes a lot differently. The people who have slowed down and are wearing masks and social distancing are idiots while the people running ahead with life as though nothing has changed are maniacs.

Do I believe that? Not really. But the fact is that we are never going to be satisfied unless everyone is doing it exactly like we are. In other words, we want to control the world. Now more than ever. Because controlling other people's behaviors makes us feel a little bit more in control and thinking we know what's best for others at least makes us feel superior to everyone else.

I have heard lots of people talk about how the charitable thing is to wear a mask. You're wearing a mask because you love your neighbor and you want to protect them and care about them. And then you walk in your front door, take your mask off and proceed to yell at your neighbor in the privacy of your own home, or anonymously on facebook. Who knew that masks could breed so much hatred among neighbors? But the sad fact is, people are being pretty mean. Sure, be charitable and wear a mask for your neighbor, but don't badmouth and hate everyone who doesn't. That's not charity.

I have been thinking a lot about masks. Allow me to tell you my relationship with masks. For the first 4 months of quarantine I wasn't allowed to go to work, but I did some shopping for people. My OLD parents, and some other friends. I was a germaphobe. I would get to the parking lot, hand sanitize, put my mask on, re-sanitize my hands, get a clorox wipe, wipe down my cart handle and proceed to shop, being sure to maintain my distance and limit touching things I wasn't buying. When I got back to my car I would immediately hand sanitize again, load my groceries into my car, sanitize again, return cart, wiping it down for the next person, wait until I was all the way in my car before removing my mask, and then sometimes drive to a second or even third store to finish my shopping, repeating the process each time. Even if I visited 3 stores I would only have my mask on for a total of 45 minutes at a time (if the shopping took a long time).

When in the stores I saw all kinds of people wearing their masks wrong. Upside down, inside out, and more often than not, EMPLOYEES wearing their masks under their nose! I was pretty annoyed. Other customers are dumb and maybe don't know what to do, but you would expect the stores to talk to their employees and go over proper mask wearing!

I spent about 4 months being annoyed at these morons for wearing their masks wrong, but seldom changing my shopping places or doing anything about it. Just feeling annoyed.

Fast forward a few months. July! I was finally allowed to start going back to work. I was so ready. First day I sat at my computer for 3 hours trying to get everything sorted. Of course I wore a mask. But let me tell you something, my sympathy for grocery employees skyrocketed.

I discovered quickly that while wearing a mask to go grocery shopping, even wearing it continuously for a full hour didn't bother me much. Yeah, sometimes a little bit warm, or sweaty, or even itchy. It took some getting used to. But I could handle wearing it property for an hour. But once I had to be wearing it for hours at a time I desperately wished I could just wear it under my nose.

Day 1 of wearing a mask for only 3 hours and I felt a little bit light-headed and headachy. And now the days have gone on and each day I find myself needing a mask break at about an hour and a half in. I just want to rip the darn thing off my face and be done with it. But I don't. Cause rules are rules, and I'm a rule follower.

Luckily I work in a job where I can be like "Oh, man, I'm feeling faint!" and I can step outside for a few minutes to take my mask off away from others and breathe normally for a little bit. Side-note: I have never thought that breathing height of summer humid air felt so fresh and clear before!

Now imagine our grocery store workers who were thrown into having to wear masks all day, right from the start. And they can't just step away from their register once every 90 minutes to breathe normally. I don't know how often they get breaks. Cut them a little slack.

Do I think that this means it's okay to wear your mask below your nose? No. I'm just saying that I sympathize and feel much more compassion for them. If you're someone who has never worn a mask for more than an hour or so then maybe don't judge others so harshly. You don't know what it's like.

And I know I'll get some people jumping on me for things I've written here, so let me put a few more thoughts.

One: I know that nurses and doctors have it worse. I'm not gonna try and claim that my hardships of wearing a mask for 90 minutes is worse than doctors who wear them all day.

Two: Yes, I believe that masks should be worn properly. I'm not saying otherwise. I wear my mask when I'm in public and I wear it properly, covering my nose and chin.

Three: If you have kids going into school, or are someone about to go into work more or whatever, get used to wearing a mask. I thought I was prepared cause I had spent the first 4 months of quarantine wearing a mask once a week for less than an hour a day. HA!

Four: Get yourselves fun or pretty masks. I like wearing mine cause they're fun! I just want all the fun and pretty masks! I'm someone who wears mismatched socks on purpose so I can have two different pictures or patterns going on. So give me the fun and pretty masks! 

Five: This sucks. It all sucks, and when is life going to be normal again? No, I refuse to accept this as the new normal. One day we'll have sports and plays and groups of hundreds of people together again and it won't freak anyone out.

Six: Be charitable. Wear your darn mask, people!

Seven: Be charitable. That means be nice to your neighbor. Even if they're not wearing their darn mask.

Morning Musings in the air.

"Life" I breathed, taking my first sip of coffee. It was before 5am, and I had spent too long in line for security for a random Wednesday morning in early November.


Strangers in the airport speak to one another during a shared experience, like a longer than expected security line. Two ladies with the same destination as me offered to let me follow them to the gate. A ind gesture for 4:30am, pre-coffee humans. They even wait for me as I get my shoes on after security.


"Right here? Right here? Right here? Right here?" repeated the small girl as she walked with her father past every single seat on the aircraft.

"I think you're in my seat," says the lady in front of me to the gentleman in her seat. He laughs comfortably at his mistake, as do the people around him.

The last passenger in our row appears: window seat. She apologizes profusely. The gentleman on the aisle is as kind as can be as we both move to let her in.

People smile. Everyone is surprisingly cheerful for so early in the morning.

The two sisters behind me, traveling with their kids, are chagrined as the two-year-old on and off screams his way through the flight. When we land, she books it for the door, leaving her sister to get the rest of the kids and all of their bags. Both ladies apologize for the noise. You can tell people are not thrilled, but are still very patient and everyone is kind.

Mean Words

Have you ever noticed that children tend to exaggerate things?

Hankford: Mom! Reginald hit me and kicked me and told me I smelled bad and that he hates me and that I was a worm!

Reality Reginald: Hankford smells bad.

I was analyzing this the other year as I watched my niecephews report the wrongdoings of their siblings to parents. I think I have yet to see a child report the exact facts with no exaggeration of the events.

But we never grow up.

Chester: Steve said all blondes are idiots!"
Reality Steve: I like black hair.

But for better or worse, we read emotion into people's comments. I think that reality is important, but reality is more than words.

When a child reports to mom or dad that their sibling hates them, it's probably not true, but that doesn't mean that the kid doesn't feel unloved by their sibling, whether or not the words "I hate you" left the siblings mouth or not.

I don't know what the point is. Cause the literal words matter, and we should pay attention to the words people say, and sometimes we need to look past the literal words to the meaning. But sometimes you need to acknowledge that your words hurt more than you knew.

"You smell," might just be a comment about your aroma, or might even be a statement of fact about your ability to inhale scent. But it could also hurt more than just words.

When people called me names when I was younger I remember chanting back "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can never hurt me."

As an adult I feel much more like: "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can really hurt me."

Again, I don't know what the point of this is, except to say that when a child is exaggerating what was said to them, it might not be a lie to get the other kid in trouble. It might be an accurate representation of how they are feeling. I know that I have used stronger words to describe a situation in order to accurately express how I felt about it.

Sadly I cannot find the name of the artist to give them credit :( 

The best time in our life.

Wham bam shang-a-lang, and a sha-la-la-la-la-la babe.

"Will you please turn that off!" she screamed. The music was blaring and she couldn't hear herself think. The children were turning the house over and Mark was just sitting on the couch with his laptop open and the music blasting.

He didn't seem to hear her. He was too immersed in whatever he was doing. She stared at the man as he sat in obliviousness watching his screen. Time froze as she stared wondering how on earth he could be so unaware of his surroundings. How could he not care? She almost wished she could feel such apathy; to be immune to the cries of her children! Because even when she was too busy, and tired and unable to meet all of their demands, even their crazy and unnecessary demands, their cries still pierced her. Wouldn't she love to be able to zone out and not even hear their cries?

No, that was not what she wanted. She just wished that Mark could hear them too and that they would affect him the same way they did her. How could he hear his daughter sitting on the floor three feet from him wailing and not notice her?

I think a little emotion goes a long long way. But careful now don't get caught in your dreams. Look out baby this is not what it seems.

"Mark? Mark, can you hear me?"

"Wha? Yeah, jes a sec, Beth," he muttered.

"Unbelievable!" she said striding across the room and picking up the three year old before Jamey threw another block in her direction. "Jamey, stop that! And go get your shoes on! Addie, are you dressed yet?" she called down the hall.

There was no answer, but that didn't surprise her one bit.

"Bea, go check on your sister, will you?"

"She'll never let me in!" Bea said, not looking up from her book. "She doesn't even answer when I knock on the door."

"Bea, just go!"

Beatrice slammed her book shut and stormed down the hall. Beth could hear the distance shouts of her daughters as they yelled at each other through the doorway, but she couldn't deal with that now. Jamey hadn't moved from his pile of blocks and the baby was now crying.

"Jamey! I said get your shoes on! Mark! Can you get the baby? She's crying again!"

Well I thought we agreed on what we need. So listen to me I'll tell you what we've got. We've got a wham, bam shang-a-lang...

Mark was still staring at his computer. Beth dropped the 3 year old on his lap and left to get the baby from their room. When she returned, the 3 year old was on the floor and Jamey was trying to fend her off.

"Stop! Stop!" he cried. "Mom! Get Kate to stop touching my tower!"

"Jamey, I told you to get your shoes on. You can't be building a tower right now anyway!"

"Make her stop!" he screamed.

Beth looked at her husband on the couch surrounded by all the chaos and wondered again how he could withstand such noise without intervening.

Rather than shouting for his attention again she dropped down on the couch next to him with the infant in her arms and looked at him. "Mark?" she said. "I could use some help!"

He seemed to pop out of his reverie as he looked away from the screen and to his wife beside him.

"Hey," he said. "What's up?" Beth let out a snort of laughter and frustration.

"Mark, honey. We gotta go! None of the kids are ready and we're gonna be late!"

"There are more important things than punctuality," he told her.

"Like your computer?" she said, unable to withhold the snark.

"Sometimes," he replied, with a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He stood up, setting his laptop aside and pulling his wife and youngest child into an embrace and began to dance with her.

"I'm not really in the mood," she said, but he saw the smile growing behind her furrowed brow. "We gotta get going!"

He smiled as he spun her about and looked at their children fighting on the floor as he sang along with the lyrics: "We'll remember the best time in our life!"

How To Deal With A Difficult Nalison: a useless instruction manual.

Sometimes I'm afraid of admitting a solution to something for fear that someone will throw it in my face when all I want to do is complain.

I probably complain too much, but sometimes you gotta vent. And I when I want to vent I'm not looking for solutions. I'm not looking for advice, I just want to be acknowledged. I want someone to realize that I'm having a tough time.

I have a lot of nieces, so you won't know who I'm talking about. But recently one of my nieces was worrying about her alarm not going off, not waking up in time, not being ready and she was concerned.

It was obvious to any adult that these were not as life threatening as she thought them. An adult can recognize that she was tired and just needed to go to sleep and everything would be better. Said child was reassured that it was going to be okay. They would wake her up. She wouldn't miss anything. Nothing that awful was going to happen. But she was sure the world was ending.

But you know what? I so relate. I am a little older than my niece. While others might recognize sooner than I what my problem is, I often recognize it too. But I don't want to admit it.

I start feeling sullen and upset and I realize that I didn't eat breakfast, or lunch. I am hangry. Someone else might realize this, but a wise person would not suggest "Hey, Alison, when was the last time you ate something?" because they might get their fingers bitten off.

I was sick for the second half of December until nowish. Still recovering. Been so exhausted and had no energy to do anything. Not moving, not doing anything is a perfect recipe for feeling like utter crap. Physically and emotionally.

A smart person might realize that I need to get out on a walk, or listen to music, or any number of things. A wise person would not suggest this for fear of getting yelled at.

So, if a Nalison is being difficult, what IS the proper procedure?

Well, if I told you, you'd probably suggest it to me when I was upset and then I'd be furious at you and then I'd just feel worse for being mad and for snapping at you.

Sometimes I need food, sometimes I need music, sometimes I need walks and dancing, and I always need hugs. I want to feel heard. I want my feelings listened to, not dismissed.


This blog post has probably come across as a whiny self-serving post, and it probably isn't even serving me that well. Cause you know what? When you friend is being a jerk you DO just want to say "Shut up and get over yourself!" When your child is crying over spilled milk, or faulty alarm clocks, you are fairly justified in telling them that they don't get to whine about it. I'm not criticizing the parent who tells their kid to get over something trivial.

I think that my point is that even if you can see that something is trivial, it doesn't feel trivial in the moment, to the child or to the thirty year old woman.

Stop Running

Worrying, worrying, worrying! A friend brought this passage to my attention a few weeks ago and it hasn't left my head: "They that hate you shall have dominion over you; and you shall flee when none pursues you." Leviticus 26:17

"They that hate you shall have dominion over you." He pointed out that this is like handing over the keys of your house to someone who hates you and saying, "Here are all the things I care about. Have at it!"

When we fret and worry, we invite evil into our lives. We invite all these bad thoughts in, and turn over our emotional state to someone who hates us.

"I feel awful. Come in, come in! Make me feel worse! Wreck my entire house!"

Do you remember when you were a child and you felt like the world was ending, and then your mom gave you a snack and you felt better? Like instantly? Or maybe you've forgotten, but observed a baby screaming and then food is presented and immediately they're fine.

As a parent you can watch and see that the world is ending for your child. You know that dinner will be ready in ten minutes and your child will be fine. But they can't see that. They can't see that in a matter of minutes whatever they think is horribly wrong with the world won't even matter as soon as they get some food in them. As a parent it's probably pretty easy to dismiss the meltdown.

But if we put ourselves in the place of the child, and the Lord in the place of the parent. Does He ever dismiss out meltdowns? I doubt it. I bet He cares, even if He can see that we'll be fine in a week/month/year/5 years.

A parent can foresee that their child will be fine once they've eaten, slept, or even just obeyed. In the same way, but with infinitely more love and patience, He is looking down at us knowing we'll be okay. It will work out so much better if we obey His Word, obey His loving commandments!

He can foresee that this anxiety I'm having will pass. He can see that this is a minor thing compared to eternity. I can see that too. When I stop to look at my life, I can see that wondering if anyone has ordered gray paint is not that important. And that perspective can remind me not to worry. But the Lord also doesn't want us to feel bad for feeling bad.

Back to the small child tantruming about supper not being ready. Imagine if the child could reflect on its actions. Given enough rationality and thought, maybe the child could reflect and realize that freaking out isn't going to help, in fact it might even delay dinner if mom is distracted by said child.

That's a good use of reflection, but sometimes reflection pushes into a dark place because we have given the keys of our mind over to someone who hates us. More common, I find, is that the child (adult) reflects, realizes they're being a pill about supper (life) and then gets really mad at themselves for tantruming over something so insignificant.

"You will run when none pursues you." We make life way more difficult on ourselves than necessary.

Reflection is good. It stops us from tantruming about dumb things. We should reflect and it helps us to turn and live a better life, but we do not need run when we aren't being pursued. We need to shun evils and live a better life. But a better life doesn't mean one of constant worry and looking over our shoulder for an enemy that isn't there.

Safeguard your home against such invasion. Kick out the evil from your home. Don't give evil spirits free reign on your mind. Don't run away from nothing. Calm down. The Lord is on your side.

Offspring and talents

I am sitting here with one friend's child in my lap, and another friend's poem in my heart.

Creation is amazing! I think about this squishy child who keeps whacking my keyboard and where she came from? It's crazy! Crazy I tell you!

But what of words? When someone writes something that goes straight to your heart? The way a child's warm hug touches you?

Or the embracing words that wrap your heart in safety, the way a child's laughter nestles round your heart.

There are brush strokes of a painting when all I did was to pick up the brush.

The Lord creates though us. We are not the creators of any of it. All of these things are straight from the Divine, filtered through us. A gift from Him. And a gift to others.

It is Him and not we ourselves. He creates for us, but He cannot unless we lift the brush, open the laptop, or breathe the words.

I am struck today by the myriad gifts He gives us. I think I am often stuck in thinking that because the gift of human life is the best gift that the other ones are negligible.

It is like the parable of the talents. If the Lord gives us a gift, we should use it. It doesn't matter the gifts He has given to others. The Lord has given goodness to all of us and it's up to us to do something with that!

Broken.

It has been an emotional couple of days. I wrote about the burden of joy a few days ago, and then continued on to have a lovely weekend full of friends and good food. Kempton for autumn weekends. Riding an old timey train with some excited and cute niecephews. Lots of fantastic times with friends and family.

Monday was rougher. I heard some hard news about a child I used to babysit. She is one of the cutest children and I spent most of Monday unable to keep myself from crying. My eyes sting today with the pain of yesterday's tears.

I'm supposed to be working on another article but I cannot focus. I love writing and I hate editing. I like the freedom of a blog post for writing about anything. No theme. No thesis, but bumbling thoughts with no plan. I never edit my blog posts, other than occasionally glancing over for typos.

I hate that life has to be hard. One thing going wrong makes me feel a fear in all areas of life. Everything is up in the air and trust goes out the window. I want to say that one bad thing doesn't makes me trust the Lord less, but the feeling on my heart 3 days ago was peace and confidence in Him, and I still trust Him, but I don't feel very peaceful about it. It's not begrudging confidence, it's just not peaceful and happy.

And it makes me fear every possible thing. So, that's not really trust, is it?

I guess I'm ashamed to say that one child being sick makes my trust in the Lord falter. That's not something I care to admit, even just to myself, so here I am, processing my feelings on my blog, and admitting them to you, and figuring this out for myself at the same time.

I don't even want to write it, but today, if I'm really examining the thoughts rattling around in my head, I don't trust the Lord today. I don't hear Him, and I don't think His plan is safe.

Oof! What a thing to admit! What a broken lack of confidence! But writing takes honesty. Examining and recognizing these thoughts is the only way to get back to Him.

And of course, I know that the bad things are NOT His plan, but today I am hating freedom. I am hating that spiritual freedom allows innocent people to be harmed.

And that is not trust. It is doubting His eternal plan. It is doubt. It is fear. It is frustration and pain.

In September I wrote about wishing to trade places with others or wishing I could take their pain away, even if it meant taking it on myself, and I feel the same today.

It's cliche, but all I can think is that it's not fair. It doesn't make sense, and I am done with hell attacking people I love. I want to protect, and I just can't. It's too much. There is no solution.

Before the breakup

Mindless, mind numbing, dumb. "I don't have to be doing this," I said to myself. I could be writing."

But did I want to write? Sometimes mind-numbing and dull are exactly what I want at the end of a long day. So scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. My eyes falling out of their sockets.

"Maybe I should just go to bed," I muttered out loud.

"Don't go to bed," Henry said. I started. I didn't realize he was close enough to hear me. He got up from his chair and came over and kissed my forehead. I didn't even want him to, but I didn't protest.

I ignored his plea that I not go to bed, slammed my laptop shut, and set it down on the table. He took that as an invitation. He plopped down on the couch and tried to snuggle up with me. As he took my hand and kissed my neck a thousand thoughts went through my head.

This is what I wanted. I wanted someone who would want to snuggle with me and hold me and not want to let go of me. I wanted an affectionate and sweet guy. Henry was all of these things. He always reached over and took my hand when we were watching movies. He went out of his way to get me things or do things for me, and he was always ready with a smile and a compliment. I believed that he loved me, but as I sat here, passively receiving his affection I didn't think that I loved him.

Yes, he was so perfect in so many ways. Affectionate and loving to the extreme. Always anxious to make sure that I felt loved and appreciated. But something was missing and I knew it. I didn't want just love. I had always longed for this. Someone who would stroke my hand and make me feel special.

The Beatles "All you need is love" played in my head. "No it's not!" I thought. "You need more than love, stupid Beatles!" I was clearly not in a good mood, and I was surprised that Henry was not picking up on this.

But love is not the answer. It's not even the question. It's only half of it. I liked Henry, a lot. I imagined our life together and could picture us getting married and growing old together. But when I threw kids into the picture things got messy. Not boogers and barf messy, but gritty parenting clashes messy.

Henry was lovely. He would be a loving and wonderful father. I could picture him now, bouncing our imaginary curly haired boy on his knee. But his discipline and upbringing would not be what I wanted for my son.

I couldn't have kids with Henry, because we would never be able to agree on what to teach our children about the way life works. And that mattered too much to me. Henry just wasn't on the same page as me. I wanted to create little people who would grow up to be the most amazing lads and lasses. Who would one day be angels in heaven, but in the meantime would make the world a better place. In short, I wanted a heavenly host. I wanted my little people to be strong and courageous and to wield swords of truth, and be unceasing when it came to standing up for the Truth.

But truth alone would not do. I didn't want my little ones to be monsters or to be cruel. They would have to learn to lean into the truth with strength and conviction, but to do so with love. To nurture and  bend, not brutally break. I believed in my future people, but Henry was not their father.

"Henry?" I said timidly. It had only been a matter of seconds since he had joined me on the couch.

"Mm?" he responded, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, but clearly not really in the mood for talking.

"I'm tired," I said. "You should go home."

He listened and stopped to look at me, disappointment in his eyes.

"Alright," he said getting up and pulling me up from the couch for a good night hug.

I let him. I even let him give me a long goodnight kiss when he leaned in for it.

"Good night," he said, holding on to my hand for a minute longer before he turned toward the door.

"Good night, Henry," I said closing the door behind him. And as I closed the door I started to cry.

Start of my two weeks in Kempton

Dude, I need to write. It's been too long since I just wrote thoughts on my blog.

I'm staying in Kempton for two weeks so that's fun. Helping a family that just had their 3rd child. Yesterday I worked for about 10 hours with an hour break in the middle. Today should only be 8 with a break.

The 6 and 4 year old seem to like me so that's good. Two week old is less sure of me, but that's okay. He's still cute.

This morning I was able to do my Duolingo lessons, get in a visit with my aunt and cousin, and now I'm quickly writing before reporting for duty!

I hope it's less hot today.

Super thrilling blog post! Pip, Pip!

You can't hug a goldfish

I cleaned my room! I still need to organize some shelves, but the floor is totally clean, all laundry is stowed, and my desk is nearly empty! It feels very good to walk into my room.

But yesterday my sister in law got gold fish, and as crazy as it is, it made me feel lonely. I was struck with a desire to have goldfish too. Maybe a couple goldfish in a bowl on my desk for companionship. Then I remembered how much I don't like fish and that maybe I should get a cat. I've never considered having a pet before. But today I was struck with an overwhelming desire to have a kitten. I could just picture the little fuzzball curled up on my lap or playing in my room.

Then I remembered that I have severe cat allergies. But even now there is a window opened on my browser for hypoallergenic cats. But I know it's not realistic. Hypoallergenic cats aren't allergen free and can still cause problems.

Because I know I have allergies I've never spent any time wondering about cats or dogs. So why now? Is there something inherent in single women in their 30s that just says "Ok. Time to give up and become a cat lady!" ??

I know that this has been brought on from E.A.S (Empty Arms Syndrome). After a week at the shore with kids, including my 2 month old niece, I am missing holding that little baby. I just want to snuggle some cute little things. I think I am feeling hug deprived. Good thing one of my best hugs friends is coming to visit in less than a week! Huzzah! I just need all the hugs.

Are all feelings valid?

Are all feelings valid? I've seen a few articles recently about letting kids feel the feels. And some people have said that they don't think it IS valid for kids to be allowed to express all their emotions. But I think it depends on some definitions.

What does "express" mean?

Express - convey (a thought or feeling) in words or by gestures and conduct.

I guess I believe in freedom of speech, but I also believe in consequences. I don't think children OR adults should just be allowed to scream anything.

So, I guess I'd say that humans should be allowed to FEEL the feelings, but not necessarily allowed to express them. Some gestures, conduct or words are just not appropriate. I think everyone realizes that.

When I think about things that I feel, I KNOW that they're crazy, or even wrong. And that can make it so much worse that I feel them. So I would like people to acknowledge my feelings but not to validate them. Some feelings are not valid, but that doesn't mean I don't feel them.

A very basic example is when I get cold. I remember as a kid my brothers saying things like, "It's not cold. I'm not cold!" and I would look down at my arms covered in goosebumps and think to myself "Um, I didn't choose to feel cold. I'm not doing this on purpose, to annoy you. I cannot change the fact that I feel cold. I don't care what temperature it is, my body is shivering!" but I didn't usually say anything. I would just get angry because I couldn't express to them that I couldn't control my body temperature.

But what about emotions? Can we choose what emotions we feel? Do we have control over them? I'd say that we don't have control over the thoughts and feelings that come into our heads and hearts, but we can control what we do with them once they're there.

Someone once said, "You can't choose what thoughts enter your head, but you can control which ones you invite in for tea." The point being that you are not responsible for the thoughts that come in to your head. If you see someone and your thought is "I wanna kill that person," you don't have to make yourself guilty of that feelings you can immediately be like "Ugh! I don't want to think that!" and kick it out of your head. If you sit there thinking about all the ways to kill that person, then you're culpable. You are inviting the thought in for tea. Meditating on some evil.

So yeah, if someone says "I feel ___." The reaction should never be "No, you don't feel that way." That's not helpful and it's not true. You cannot know what another person is feeling. If they tell you how they are feeling you don't get to contradict them.

People often want to make someone feel better so if I were to say to a friend "I feel useless. I feel like I'm not lovable" and he responded in well-meaning kindness "No! You are very lovable and such a useful person" that might seem like a kind thing to say, but all he has done is invalidate my feelings.

I believe that the appropriate response is "I'm sorry that you are feeling that way. How can I help you?" He doesn't have to agree with me. He doesn't have to say that the feelings are valid, but he should acknowledge that I do in fact feel that way whether or not I should.

If a friend were to say to me "I don't feel love for my husband." I should not respond "Yes you do! Let me remind you why!" I should say "Oh man! I'm so sorry. That sucks. I'm sorry you feel that way! What can I do?" Of course I would want to help her remember why she loves her husband, but I think it's important to acknowledge what the other person is feeling before trying to make it better.

So, with adults you can acknowledge, but not affirm feelings, but can you do the same with children?

If a kid falls down and sees that an adults is watching they oftentimes will burst into tears because they want comfort. So I try not to react strongly to a kid falling down. I usually pick them up and cheerfully say something like "Oops! Are you okay?" Gasping nearly always results in the child wailing. Is that wrong? Is that distracting the kid from expressing their emotions? But if they really are okay, it's not really doing them a service to let them wail. And if they are truly upset or hurt (physically or emotionally) is it then okay to let them cry?

I think so, but sometimes if a kid is upset by something like spilled milk is crying really warranted? I  want to be able to tell my kids that that isn't worth crying over. And maybe if they need to cry that other people don't need to hear it. I guess people should be allowed to cry if they want to, but no one is obligated to feel sorry for them if they do.

Another thing I find myself wondering about is saying "It's okay" to a crying child or baby. I used to think that perhaps that wasn't a fair thing to tell them. "You're okay" "It's okay" sounds like it's brushing off their feelings and not letting them emote. But a few nights ago I was holding a crying baby and found myself rubbing her back and saying "It's okay to cry. It's okay." And realized that I wasn't trying to talk her out of crying, I was trying to reassure her that the crying was okay. "It's okay to feel sad."

Because sometimes you just feel sad, like you just feel cold. I can't change how I feel, but I can always choose what I do about it.

Throw out the plan, stick to the Plan

I'm at the shore! It's only been a day and it feels much longer. Some things shifted the entire schedule today which normally would stress me out. It's day one and the schedule I spent a bit of time orchestrating is already thrown out. I normally would be kinda frazzled, but I'm at the shore, with lovely humans so it's really so much easier to go with the flow and make everything work.

Secondly, I mediated a few disputes about stolen matchbox cars and chalk drawn roads and feel pretty pleased about that too. The kids weren't listening to each other and I didn't fix it, I made them talk to each other and listen and I think it worked.

At one point one of the kids yelled something like "He shouldn't be mad!" and it just got me thinking about my "Are all feelings valid?" post that I'm still working on and hope to post soon!

I don't know why I think that life is so good, but it is. It really is just wonderful! I have wonderful family, wonderful friends, and I am currently in one of the most lovely places on earth! I feel quite happy with the Plan today.