Laugther is the Best Medicine......"Giggle..."

"What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul." ~Yiddish Proverb

As a child, my brother, sister and I  used to go with my mother to visit my grandmother in the country during the summer. In the evening, the children would run around the yard chasing lightning bugs while my mother, grandmother and Aunt Bessie, my grandmother's sister, would sit under the car port snapping peas and telling stories.

Sometimes, I would take a rest from all of my running around and sit down with them and listen. The stories were not familiar to me because they came from their shared experience many years before living out on that same countryside, though in much leaner times. Yet from those times shared together, as hard as they were, they were able to remember times of great fun.

Even now, as I remember them, my heart smiles and I can see them sitting there, bowls of field peas in their laps with their heads slung back in hearty laughter and tears running down their cheeks. My mother would get a stitch in her side and lean forward, still laughing, to catch her breath. Aunt Bessie, in her homemade cotton dress, gave up her usually pursed lips for laughter and a smile, and as she tried to restrain herself, made her ample figure jiggle in the process.

When I grew into my teen years, the same scene would embarrass me, and I could not understand how the same stories could send normally sane women into fits of laughter. Fortunately, those years were short, and I once again enjoyed those evenings spent together reminiscing, now including stories of which I was a part.  I don't remember any of the stories now, but I will never forget the laughter and the smiles.

Looking back now, the stories they shared were second to the laughter. The years they spoke of were from the Great Depression and World War II, when the whole country was hit hard and even harder for those already living in austerity. Finding the good was a way of easing the pain, even eradicating it.

I learned to laugh from my mother, her mother and Aunt Bessie. I am not too delicate in my expression. My mouth opens too wide and the sound is often raucous and uncontrolled. There was once a time, not too long ago, when I thought I had lost my ability to laugh, even smile. Laughter is something that comes from deep within, as does a genuine smile, and deep down all I could feel was sadness. Thank goodness the loss was not permanent.

My laugh is back now, along with my smile. The secret is to have people around us who think laughing is good medicine, daily medicine. Lucky for me, I have just such people in my life...

......and the laughter never ends.

Choosing what to Consume

It started sometime in high school. I just had to start speaking my mind. It is a curse, I know, but since then it is just a part of being Deby. Most of all, it meant that sometimes I'm not going to be swimming with the stream. I always have a choice. I can keep my mouth shut, but that would mean being someone else.

Thus is the case now. Before I read any book, I read the summary to find out if it is a book I might be interested in reading. I chose to read books that uplift me, inform or inspire me. I, also, try to be mindful of what I put into my mind. I take the saying, "You are what you eat," to another level, "You are what you consume."

We consume through our mouths, our ears and our eyes.

The Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh has this to say about mindful consumption,

When I was a child, I used to argue with my parents when I wanted to do or have something, that everyone else was doing it or having it. This was not a valid argument to them then, and it is no more valid to me now. However, don't we all like to feel connected, even if that means eating a certain way or reading a book that almost literally, "everyone else is reading?" After all, swimming against the stream can be awfully lonely sometimes. This is something I have dealt with for the past 35 years. When I chose to home school my three sons, I received many raised eyebrows and even some angry comments about cheating my children from the experience of true learning. When I asked a doctor for alternative remedies for my son's asthma, she accused me of not wanting to give my son his medicine and being a neglectful mother. I later found out that cow's milk aggravates asthma. I cut it out of my son's diet and he never needed asthma medication again.

So now when it seems that almost everyone is eating meat or reading a certain book, I consciously make the choice whether or not to eat or read. Sometimes I choose wisely and sometimes I don't. What I do know is that, without a doubt, my choices have an impact on me and oftentimes on many others. Therefore, I try to learn from my poor choices, and I pay attention when I make decisions that elevate my spirit. All of this leads to creating a more conscious life. A happier life, in my experience.

紫流. "Fat Cat." Flickr. Yahoo!, 05 Apr. 2006. Web. 22 Jan. 2015.

Being Sure

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh!" he whispered.

"Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw.

"I just wanted to be sure of you." ~A.A. Milne

When do we first learn to trust? Is it when we look into our mother's eyes and know that she is our world and she will be there to feed, clothe, and hold us? And when do we lose trust? Could we look into those same eyes with the expectations and needs of a newborn, only to find that the woman we are looking at cannot meet them?

Or is it later, when we learn to love someone outside of our immediate family, those people we can trust to love us no matter what and who can push every button we have? Is it after we fall head over heals in love with someone who uses words like always and forever, and "I'll be there for you no matter what." and we find out that these were just empty promises? Our heart broken and wounded, we retreat to the corner to lick our wounds, to once again emerge ready to love, or so we think.

But the wounds have never really healed. A scar would be just fine, but this wound is open and tender. The next person we meet can't see the wound through our smiles and laughter, all disguises to cover our pain. That is not until the wound is touched..... Those words, once so precious and loving, forever and always, are mentioned again, and we go off the handle over some insignificantly small matter. Back to the corner we go, licking the wounds, leaving our new love standing in amazement not exactly sure what happened. A couple of these episodes and the relationship is history before it even sprouted wings. There are two casualties here, us and the new guy or gal.

And then one day someone comes along that we don't want to lose. The same drama is played out, but this time it is like we are looking in a mirror. What we see is painful, but true. We cannot deny its truth. We see ourselves for the very first time. Sometimes what is there is so amazingly beautiful, we are in paradise.....and then sometimes it is so haggard and ugly that we wince at the view. Then slowly, but surely, we are able to look at ourselves without looking away, without self-rejection. We are healing.

Soon, we are able to really see the person we are with, not the reflection of ourselves, our pains, but truly seeing. This person has been there through it all. We can trust again. We, like Piglet, are sure of someone.

photo credit: K, Paul. "Do You See Piglet. Look At Their Tracks!" Flickr. Yahoo!, 28 Nov. 2008. Web. 07 Feb. 2015.

Just When I Thought I'd Peeled the Onion

One day on my yoga mat, I sat in a short meditation and asked the Universe (God, Spirit, etc..) to use me. Not long after that, I got a call for an interview for a job teaching middle school. Middle school students, in general, are a tough lot, but many of these students come from challenging home situations and deal with poverty and violence on a daily basis.
I thought I had love. I thought I was ready to save these children. What I had forgotten is that they were here to teach me more than I could ever teach them.

When a young person loses trust in adults, it is not easily won back, and every adult in that child's life will suffer the consequences caused by perhaps the one person who has failed him. The longer the betrayal, the harder it is to gain trust back. When children feel that they are not important to the people in their lives who should love them unconditionally and care for them, they lose a solid sense of who they are and start feeling less about themselves. When this happens, a vicious cycle begins, with the child acting on these feelings of worthlessness and low self-esteem, and  in turn the people in their lives judge them for those behaviors, making them feel even more worthless and unloved, leading to more deviant behaviors.

So, here I am, all perky and positive, ready to jump in with my ray of sunshine, thinking I am going to turn the Titanic on a dime. A few days of my pep talks and positive attitude should do it, I assumed, though much of this was pretty unconscious. I was not ready for the backlash of criticism and negative attitudes directed towards me. After all, I had come to save the day. Only the day was a conglomeration of days in each child's life leading to this one day, and in those days there had been many experiences of failure and heartache. How arrogant of me to think a few days could wipe that slate clean. It is a humbling revelation.

But then I got it. I have known since my second year as a teacher that this path, including whichever one  each of us chooses to travel, would lead me to the ultimate truth, Love. These children, as many who came before, have been designated as my teachers. It might take a day to destroy a beautiful palace, but it will take much longer to rebuild it. However, if we stay with the work, laying each brick with love and care, we will, in the end, have our palace.

So now, when they push me away, I push back, in love. They give me backtalk, I model respect. If I keep coming back in love, again and again, love will be the victor because love is the greatest force in the universe. When I am weak and tired, I falter, but then I am not too proud to say I failed, even to them. This is more than a job; it is Life with a capital L. I asked to be used, and I got the lesson I needed, which always comes down to LOVE with all caps.

Peace,

Deby

photo credit:

M, Fatma. "Weekend Love." Flickr. Yahoo!, 20 Sept. 2008. Web. 07 Feb. 2015.