If you’d like to keep in touch, you can find me here – JesseBlayne.com.
I hope to see you there.
If you’d like to keep in touch, you can find me here – JesseBlayne.com.
I hope to see you there.
You know how they say everything happens in its own time for a reason.
This morning I woke like any other morning. My back was sore. That’s not new. I made good coffee, also not new.
I checked the emails and the sites and the comments. I read the smattering of news that I can stomach. I made another cup of coffee and greeted Jen and Will.
I considered finishing the 700 word post I’d written yesterday, but opted to do some stretches and listen to Esther Hicks, instead. I found a Hicks tape that talked about bodily pain, resistance, and dwelling on stuff instead of focusing on where I’m heading. I wondered if the post I’d written yesterday had anything to do with the increased pain in my back.
You don’t need to tell your kids. If you tell them now, and it takes a while, they’ll sound a lot like, “Mom? Is it today? Is it happening today? When? Mom, when is the change gonna happen?” You don’t need that kind of pressure.
Depending on the relationship you have with your BFF, you may want to wait to tell her. But … if you can’t tell her right away, she’s not the BFF you think she is.
I have no idea how to predict how a guy responds to anything, so whether you tell him, or not, is up to you.
I do know, though, that if you’re dealing with a narcissist, it’s better not to tell him or her at all. Make the change. See if they notice. If they bring up the change, then be prepared to discuss, or more accurately, listen. Continue reading →
“Yeah. I guess that’s right.”
He’s organizing his papers and looking at his new schedule. Many pieces have fallen into place to bring him to this point. It has been hectic around here. He’s starting this school sooner than we had expected, and we haven’t considered all the ramifications. I know it hasn’t occurred to him that we won’t be having dinner together. He’s the one who wanted to take his classes at night. He’s a night owl. This is perfect.
It’s dumb that I bring up the dinner thing, but it had just dawned on me. Dinner has always been a big deal to me. As much as I may not want to cook some nights, I love that time of the day when everything that can be done is done, and we can eat dinner and “hit relax mode.”
He zips up his backpack and says, “How are we going to do dinners?” Continue reading →
Three days into this new year and I’m still wincing. I’m apprehensive, unsteady, exhausted and excited – all at the same time. The holidays took over kicking my butt, where 2016 left off. I spent so much time talking about being glad 2016 was over, that I’m nervous about that energy following me into 2017. You know what they say, “Whatever you talk about, you attract.”
I read a “motivational” post the other day that pointed out that all that complaining about 2016 is misdirected. The writer went on to say that we ought to be reevaluating the choices made in 2016 that led to the messes, and make damn sure to point ourselves in a new direction.
That hurt a bit when I read that. So all that was my fault? Really? Don’t tell me to pull up my big girl pants. I hate that expression. As a single mom, I’ve been the one wearing the pants since day one.
I was going to tell you that I’ve been working on removing barriers. I have noticed that good (thriving) feeling returning, and I planned to give you a secret for removing barriers that might keep you from thriving.
But that’s silly because one person’s barrier is another person’s bump in the road. I can only share my experience and hope it helps you in some way.
Creativity is a direct path to thriving. If we can stop the harmful self-talk and just make stuff, we’ll get to a better feeling place. The connection between creativity and thriving is undeniable. Thriving leads to creativity, and creativity leads to thriving. Get to one, and the other naturally follows. Continue reading →
I recently pinned a photo of a darling little girl with a quote: “I am thankful for all those difficult people in my life, they have shown me exactly who I do not want to be.” I can’t quit thinking about it. On the one hand, it doesn’t feel good to label someone a “difficult” person. Heck, I’m a difficult person, or so I’ve been told, and being called difficult does not feel good. On the other hand, I struggle with trying to figure out why I click with some and can not click with others, and calling them difficult gets me off the hook. (Why do I waste so much energy worrying about not clicking with someone? –> Lizard brain.)
None of us clicks with everyone, and that’s a blessing. How much time would any of us have if we didn’t naturally filter out some people in order to have more energy to focus on others?
But I liked the pin, and I really liked her dimples. After seeing the message, I realized that I spend too much time trying to figure out why I don’t get on with some. Are they a mirror to me? Are they reflecting back to me the stuff I need to be working on? Are they in my life to teach me some new lesson? Could it be that I am the teacher? Gawd! For their sake, I hope I’m not their teacher.
What does it mean that I don’t click with this person?
The pin told me, “You don’t need to dwell on it. You don’t need to figure it out. You don’t have to understand why you don’t get along. It doesn’t have to mean that there is something wrong with you, or with them. The pin is telling you, ‘Don’t go there. Don’t be that. That isn’t meant for you.'” Continue reading →
Once you’ve gone No Contact, the first time you go to a restaurant, you’ll relax with the realization that you won’t feel the need to catch the waiter’s eye to express a silent apology for the inexcusable way he was treated. Remember how you would wince when the wait staff approached the table? Would your dinner date be friendly, or dismissive? Would she talk down to the waiter, or would he flirt with the waitress?
Even for an HSP, going out in public will be easier now that you don’t have to try to anticipate your partner’s mood.
Pins and needles will find their rightful places in craft projects. You won’t be walking on them any more. Continue reading →
She was sitting in the window and I thought, “See that? That looks like one of those photos on Pinterest.” You’ve seen them. They’re all over the internet. Those pics seem to promise a serene life with steaming cups of tea, stacks of good books, four uninterrupted hours of alone time, and a guarantee of enlightenment through stolen moments of self care.
At least that’s what I think they promise.
I assume the people who take those kinds of pictures have all the time in the world to scout around and look for the perfect photo opportunities. They don’t have to waste precious minutes picking up after their messes.
The Quintessential Pinterest Pinner doesn’t have to file a change of address form for the second time in a year, or sift through her storage unit looking for ice skates or home school supplies or a box of embroidery floss. Continue reading →
I’ve consumed the Arnica Montana. I rub on the Biofreeze. I do the yoga, the stretching, the lifting of weights and the ibuprofen. Fifteen minutes ago, I wrestled the tennis ball away from the cat and stood against a wall with the ball centered on the hard lump of accumulated stress. I pushed against that tennis ball with enough pressure to bring tears to my eyes. I released and pushed again.
Some of these remedies offer temporary relief. Most of them just keep me busy with applying and sweating and complaining.
The stresses of the last 14 months set up camp in a muscle on the right side of my spine, just below my shoulder blades.
When I am walking, the pain leaves. I don’t know where the pain goes, but that is the only time that I am without pain, so I walk. Continue reading →
“You must be done with your shift?” Joe sat on the stool next to Hank.
“Yeah. I’m meeting a friend at the river for a little evening fishing, but I’ve got a few minutes. How are things?”
“Things are …” Joe turned his stool to face Hank. “I gotta ask you something.”
Hank was placing flies in a small tackle box. “Go ahead.” Continue reading →
I had planned to check out the third in the Harry Potter Series, but some lucky kid, who finds him or herself with long, empty summer days, got to it first. Even with an ongoing list of books I’m dying to read, if I go to the library with one particular book in mind, it’s impossible for me to switch gears. But since I can’t go home empty handed, I stopped to see what’s in the New Books.
To preface things a bit, I must explain that I’ve believed in reincarnation since I was in high school. I don’t remember why. (I recently learned that INFJs struggle with remembering much of their childhood, and that certainly applies, in my case.) Also, as an INFJ, I wasn’t influenced by a friend or a relative. But in that way that INFJs have, I simply knew (more like felt) this belief in reincarnation and karma was right for me. Continue reading →
“Oh, look! There’s a soul in trouble! I must reach out to her. Look, there’s an outstretched hand. I sense his need. I know I can offer some sort of comfort. I’ve got room on my list of priorities. It won’t take much. I’ve got kindness to spare and a few extra moments in my day.”
Is there anything better than helping one who wants help? Is there anything more gratifying than listening with compassion, being asked for help, and providing words or actions that make a difference?
(As I typed those last words, I thought of the few times I’ve been able to genuinely help, and how I felt so connected to the whole, when doing so.) Continue reading →
Gladys laughed. “Margaret, what are you talking about?”
Margaret let go of her apron with one hand, squinched her eyes shut and pointed. “Over there. That fellow on the bench. He made some kind of mistake, and now he’s mad at himself. Why must they do that?”
Gladys turned to look in the direction of the bench, as Basil approached. “Good afternoon, ladies. What am I missing?”
“Margaret is worried about that fella on the bench. She seems to think he’s being harsh on himself for some sort of transgression.” Continue reading →
“Well, we all came down with that stomach bug. Only three of the four of us could even eat the dinner. My pumpkin pie turned green. And the dogs ate all of the salami we’d sliced for appetizers. It was the best Thanksgiving I’ve ever had, and I’m NOT being facetious. How was yours? Oh… I’ll have a Fat Tire, please.”
Hank laughed, “Wow! You sound like a beer-drinking Erma Bombeck.”
“I’d bet she tossed back a few in her day. Seriously, though, how was your turkey day?”
“Nice and quiet, just how I like it.” Hank placed an almost over-flowing glass of beer in front of Jesse. Continue reading →