Life

Happiness and Control

/ still a dreamer / 8 Comments

Can you name two things that don’t go together? There they are. Happiness and control.

As long as we are trying to control an outcome, we’re never going to be happy. Imagine right now … say to yourself, “I would really be happy if …” and I’ll tell you that inevitably it will mean that if something or other would just go differently than it is, i.e. how you would like it, you could be happy. This is a lesson that comes up again and again and again. And in every area of one’s life.

Right now for me, both of my animals have serious medical problems, one just discovered within the last week. I would be happy if … this weren’t so; if … I could alter the outcome; if … what ails them could be turned around. None of this is reality. I can do the best I can to comfortably extend their lives for as long as possible. Who knows how long that might be? Surely, not me. And I can enjoy their wonderful company for as long as that is. I can do my best and that’s all I can do. And if I can get my head straight – it seems to come in and out of this – I can actually be happy right now as they have so far lived wonderful, happy lives and given me so much joy. And they will continue to do so for as long as they do.

We all have circumstances in our lives we wish were different. They often involve others, no? But what we need to always remember is that we are all living beings, of one species or another, on our own journeys in this lifetime. I’m not here to control yours. Nor you, mine. I don’t believe it’s our job to keep trying to control how things turn out. We can do our best to be a force for good, but beyond that, we need to trust that the Universe is in order and all is happening exactly as it should.

And there’s the happiness. Not saying it’s easy, but in that peaceful, trusting state of mind, it becomes much easier. Be happy. Me, too.

p.s. The photo is of the happiest plant on my porches. This was not the year of the thriving plants and flowers, but for some reason, this coleus, in a spot I considered probably too sunny, just gets more rich and beautiful every day. Perhaps that’s what I’m talking about.

Babysitting A Betta

/ still a dreamer / 10 Comments

Meet Pipsqueak. She is a female betta, a type of fish sometimes known as Siamese Fighting Fish. But Pipsqueak is a lover, not a fighter.

Each year I watch my neighbors’ pets for a week or two when they go on vacation. Up until now, that has included their 2 cats and their pond fish. As they built a new and much larger pond this year, I am also caring for koi in the pond as well. But my next charge was brought over in a glass vase by the younger daughter, C. It was a betta. Bettas are new to me.

C. gave me instructions to change the water once a week, and gave me food that appeared to me like the pond goldfish food crumbled up with instructions on how often to feed Pipsqueak. Without a filtration system in there and after talking with a friend, I felt a bit concerned. So … me being me … I stopped at Petco and purchased a book on bettas, which will be for C. when she returns, and some food formulated especially for these fish. My suspicion was correct in that the water needs to be changed way more often for that size vase. I had also noticed the small rocks in there had some rough edges which might tear her delicate fins and many cracks which could harbor bacteria. No problem, I have many decorative marbles. And so I read about bettas.

Pipsqueak has already had her second water change, now has safer rounded-edge flat marbles, and a food to suit her needs. She actually has enough room to swim in that vase. I’d probably give her something bigger, go for plants, etc. but she really isn’t my fish. My adjustments are to insure her health and that she’ll be doing well when C. returns. She’s a great kid, about 12 years old, that really does like animals. I think she will be interested to learn what more she can do for her little fish.

Now Pipsqueak … I didn’t know much about bettas, though I’ve never been crazy about any animals kept in small spaces, (and that is different with this fish), but I didn’t expect too much from her personality-wise. Well, has Pipsqueak surprised me! She’s an amazing little fish, watches what I do, comes up to say hello, etc. and otherwise swims about her little “tank.” I keep her with me as much as I can as she is actually quite curious! (Not next to the computer, not in sunlight.) At night, she’s on top of a bookcase where the cats don’t see her.

I am always humbled when I meet and learn about a new kind of animal. Every animal, bird, insect, fish, reptile … has it’s own life, habits, needs and … personality. We rarely give them enough credit for being the amazing creatures they truly are. So I am enjoying Pipsqueak and trying to give her a pleasant time while she’s visiting. It didn’t take long to see … she’s so much more than “just a fish.”

In the wise words of Anatole France,
“Until one has loved an animal a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”

Life Out This Way

/ still a dreamer / 2 Comments

I was determined this morning to get some time out on one of my porches before the onslaught of work began. There’s plenty on my desk plus a scheduled quick trip to the vet.  It’s easy to get up and take care of the necessary house stuff then dive into work with nary a moment of peace on these still-cool mornings.

So I put off making breakfast and brought my coffee to the shady back porch and sketched a bit. Then I closed my eyes and just listened. I heard the gentle gurgling of the neighbor’s pond which is partially behind my home; the GUNK! of one of the froggy residents; I distinctly recognized a cat bird and a sparrow singing, and at least 5 others that I was not able to identify. There was some machine humming in the distance, an occasional vehicle some blocks away, but these were barely noticeable. There was not one human to be heard. It was peaceful.

In looking about me I saw two goldfinches zipping back and forth in tandem and a few chimney swifts flitting about high in the sky. At the edge of the porch, bumblebees were pushing their way into the lavender hosta flowers. A medium size rust beetle was seemingly trying to bury himself – or perhaps burrow – in the corner by the back door, an impossibility, of course. I couldn’t imagine his purpose but he was way off course, so I took a piece of paper and transported him down into the hosta, where at least it was a more natural environment for him.

When I did get to breakfast, I made sure to include one of the fresh peaches from my local farm stand. This quiet morning was a great start. The only downside? I couldn’t stay for hours.

Perfection

/ still a dreamer / 4 Comments

Perfection sucks. Plain and simple.

This is not to say we shouldn’t strive for the highest standards or do the very best we can do, but striving to always be perfect is a useless and demoralizing task. Yet it’s how many of us live and  how many of us were raised. Things had to be perfect … we had to be perfect.

When you aim for perfection, you discover it’s a moving target.  ~George Fisher

Growing up, many of us had parents and teachers that believed in perfection, and who were no doubt raised the same way. Every little thing had to be just so. No messes, no mistakes. It’s hard for a parent to teach a child that not being perfect is really OK when the opposite message was enforced in them. And so the manacles of impossible perfection get passed on from parent to child.

Have no fear of perfection – you’ll never reach it.  ~Salvador Dali

Even knowing this, we get caught up on this search for perfection again and again. Like a piece of cloth catching on a rusty nail as we walk by, we lament the tiny new bubble of thread in the fabric instead of seeing how beautiful the whole still remains.

You see, when weaving a blanket, an Indian woman leaves a flaw in the weaving of that blanket to let the soul out.  ~Martha Graham

We feel compelled towards perfection in our need for immaculately clean homes, spotless clothing, the perfect score in golf, the car without the tiniest of marks in the finish. We must have perfect grades, the best performance in our jobs, in sports and other accomplishments, berating ourselves ruthlessly when we “fail.” We are so horribly unfair to ourselves, is it any wonder so many people have difficulty reaching goals and dreams, having allowed so many stumbling blocks to remain in our path?

Always live up to your standards – by lowering them, if necessary.  ~Mignon McLaughlin

I was once given an assignment. I was told to put a deliberate flaw in every drawing I did as a way of getting past my fear of the drawing being less than perfect. It still is a challenge that I cringe before, and if I do it, I can’t let it stay for long. Perfection takes away the enjoyment of the moment, of whatever we’ve worked on and completed, and … the enjoyment of others, too. For those of us who were raised this way, it’s a lifelong challenge, but let it go.

Let perfection go. Pick it up in your hand and blow it away like the tiny fluffs of a spent dandelion. Because here’s the truth. In the deepest sense of the word, we are already perfect. And we never need to try so hard.

Sometimes… when you hold out for everything, you walk away with nothing.  ~From the television show Ally McBeal

Last Time You Danced?

/ still a dreamer

When was the last time you danced?
A question put to the sick by a Native American medicine man

This headed up the June 24th post by Mark Nepo in his The Book of Awakening. And I had to stop. When was the last time I danced? When was the last time I sang? Or really laughed hard? And the answer I came up with was that whenever it was, it was too, too long ago. And that got me pretty bummed. I love to dance.

There are periods in our lives when dancing is just so low on the agenda that we forget all about it. Although I vaguely remember dancing about the kitchen, holding one of my cats when she was really not doing well. I thought a loving waltz might help. I’m guessing it did, I’m sure as much for me as her.

Dancing is wonderful and I’ve been dancing for as long as I can remember. Lately? Not so much. With all that’s been going on I’ve barely listened to music or read a whole book. Yesterday, with a number of stressful situations at least partially resolved, I decided to change all that. I looked through my CD’s and put on a favorite that I haven’t listened to in a long time, p.s. A Toad Retrospective from Toad the Wet Sprocket. I  came across them in the early 90’s and  have several of their albums; I love their sound and this compilation is their best.

I hit “Play” and grabbed my book, Skinny Dip, something cool to drink, and sat down on the sofa and read. And read. And read `til I finished the book. (Yes, I did make dinner for all those who were hungry and then continued reading.)

OK, I didn’t dance.  But I listened to music I love and allowed myself something I rarely do … to simply relax and enjoy. I admit I am still feeling a wee bit guilty, but all the things I didn’t do are still right here waiting for me, and today is another day. Dance? That might happen at any time.

So you might ask yourself … when was the last time you danced? sang? laughed so hard you couldn’t stop? I’m certainly no medicine man, but if the answer is anything like mine was … maybe you, too, need to carve out a little “you” time. Put on the music and see what happens.