Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 12
October 20, 2023
As Headlines Scream Of Mayhem, Terror And Chaos, What Should We Do?
As Headlines Scream of Mayhem, Terror and Chaos, What Should We Do? Foremost, we should take care of ourselves.
Because, as bystanders, what does a constant stream of gut-wrenching acts of atrocity do to us physically? Or more specifically, what’s the impact on that vital organ – our hearts?
As the days of the Israel-Hamas War wear on, I think of ways I can be of some use. Clearly, as a 76 year-old grandmother with a temperamental knee, I choose to help through words rather than action.
Hence: here are some words of wisdom from a heart specialist on how to take care of our physical heart – in a world where terrorists have struck innocent citizens leading to worldwide unrest.
Dr. Daniela Crousillat at the USF Health Department of Cardiology states, “We are all too familiar with stress, but we owe it to ourselves to manage our stress to keep ourselves and our hearts healthy. Chronic stress and anxiety have been linked to increased risk of heart disease. Even when stressful situations seem outside of our control, here are a few ways to uncoil and keep our minds and hearts healthy:
Think heart disease can’t happen to you? Think again. Here are a few case studies from Dr. Crousillat:
Anna: A 60 year-old woman, wife, entrepreneur, and mother of two children, 24 and 26 years old, who developed nausea, vomiting, and discomfort in her chest during a typical morning workout. She called her husband, who promptly took her to the nearest emergency room, where she was diagnosed with a complete blockage of her right coronary artery requiring emergent placement of two stents.
Andrea: A 28-year-old single mother, with a recent pregnancy complicated by pregnancy-associated high blood pressure, developed sudden onset chest discomfort radiating to her jaw. This occurred while breastfeeding her 2-week-old daughter in the middle of the night. The pain would not abate after anti-acids and a hot bath so she presented to the emergency room. She was diagnosed with spontaneous coronary artery dissection, a type of heart attack that affects mostly young women.
Olivia: A 45-year-old woman, full-time lawyer and traveling enthusiast developed progressive shortness of breath with daily physical activities and noticeable swelling of her ankles. She consulted with her primary care physician who ordered an ultrasound of the heart (echocardiogram). This test showed her heart muscle was fatigued and pump function reduced. She was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She had two maternal aunts and a sister with congestive heart failure in their 50s.
The following are some misconceptions worth knowing:
What does Dr.Crousillat recommend?
Recognize heart disease as the leading cause of death among all women.Know the symptoms of heart disease.Know your family history and that it could have an important impact on yours too.Tell your primary provider about your reproductive health, which has important implications for your long-term heart health. 
Let’s take care of ourselves and each other.
Dr. Crousillat has been nominated by the American Heart Association as a 2023 Leader of Impact for Tampa Bay. She is dedicating her campaign to the over 1000 women lost every year to heart disease complications related to pregnancy. Funds will help to support local programs in the highest risk communities in Tampa Bay. If you would like to donate, here is the QR code:
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
October 15, 2023
A Week of Mayhem and Chaos
Saturday, October 7
As usual, I wake up Saturday morning intent on completing my massive To-Do list.
And then my brother rings my doorbell and stridently orders me to turn on the television.
And in that moment, the earth beneath my feet shifts.
Hamas attacks Israel
Hundreds kidnapped
Hundreds murdered
Mass chaos
Massive damage
All of us are familiar with the cycle of violence in the Middle East, but this newest incident has encompassed barbaric behavior not seen since the Holocaust.
Agonizing hours later, my husband and I finally hear from our brother-in-law that all of our 30 plus family members living in Israel are safe for the time being.
Sunday Oct 8
Like the assault on our capital on January 6, 2021, the immediate news flashes are so shocking that it is hard to think beyond the immediate moment. As the hours pass, however, disturbing questions emerge:
How could Israel intelligence have not known in advance about Hamas’s murderous plans to descend on Israel by motorcycles, by boats, by vans and by motorized hang gliders, etc.?
Was it complacency or carelessness or betrayal of trusted sources?
Innocent women, babies, elderly and disabled were pulled brutally from their homes on Shabbat to be held hostage in Gaza. This is eerily close to the date of the Yom Kippur War 50 years ago. How could this be?
How many of our American citizens are being held hostage or have been murdered?
Just before bed I learn:
Israel has formally declared war on Hamas militants in Gaza
Monday, October 9, 2023
At 7 am on Sunday morning, terrorists in Hamas military pick-up trucks were seen approaching the site of the Supernova music festival, billed as “a journey of unity and love”. Shooting began. Many concert goers were captured, raped, bound and kidnapped. Two hundred sixty concert goers were slain.
As hours pass on Monday, shocking details of concert goers horrific experiences begin to surface.
Hmmm…. I feel an urge to take action – to show solidarity.
Should I go to Fast Signs and have a slew of signs made up proclaiming:
WE STAND WITH ISRAEL
Place them in my yard?
Pass out to friends and family and neighbors?
“We live on a busy corner – wouldn’t that be an awesome show of solidarity?” I excitedly ask my husband.
He vehemently nixes my idea.
Part of me is angry at him,
but a small part of me is relieved.
What vengeance could be released on us personally?
Maybe it’s not such a great idea.
Netanyahu is threatening massive vengeance.
Will other countries whose citizens have been taken hostage join forces with the United States to get them back?
Tuesday, October 10
I attend a solidarity gathering of the Tampa Jewish Community.
The message: Our hearts are shattered as we continue to watch our brothers and sisters in Israel in the midst of war… we come together to support Israel.
Rabbis, dignitaries and representatives of Jewish organizations speak, sing and pray with the capacity crowd of 1000 people gathered together. Gary Gould, Chief Executive Officer of the Tampa JCC and Federation, as always, speaks wisely and eloquently. His closing remarks are succinct and direct:
Am Israel Chai
The People of Israel Live
Wednesday, October 11
I hear a harsh pounding on my front door
Glass shatters
Footsteps – so many footsteps – pound on my wooden stairs
I jump out of bed and cower in my closet
Violently armed and scary looking men pull me out of my hideaway and hurl me – footless and braless – down the stairs and into the black night…..
Startled, I wake up awash in sweat and tears, heart pounding. Sunshine is pouring through my windows and all is as it should be.
I realize it was a dream. A bad nightmare.
But for far too many, it is reality.
Too many have already been taken in just this manner.
Reports of heroism among the Israelis begin emerging.
President Biden pledges our country’s full support.
Thursday, October 12
What can we do?
Gary Gould provides an answer:
Donate
Educate ourselves
Correct social media misinformation
Visit Israel when it is safe
Give blood
Don’t participate or join counter protest events organized by individuals and groups who support the terrorists
Be safe, be strong and live your life
My brother-in-law in Israel provides an answer:
Contact the International Red Cross and demand that they visiraeli hostages who include the elderly, women, children and infants. Reports of rape, torture, abuse and brutality are rampant. Demand that the IRC does its job.
https://www.icrc.org/en/contact#media-contacts
And Shuly Rubin Schwartz, chancellor of JTS, provides an answer:
Let us pray: May we and the inhabitants of the State of Israel live to see the day when mourning will again turn into dancing, sackcloth into robes of joy.
This week? Pretty hard to Keep Preserving Your Bloom, but praying for peace.
Iris Ruth Pastor
October 5, 2023
I Did A Hurtful Thing
Last week I ran an old column but updated friends’ names in one part of it. I later realized I had done the many, many friends in my personal orbit a disservice by not acknowledging them and the pivotal position they too hold in my life.
I am a lucky person.
I started out with an awesome female support system of women.
My maternal grandmother, my aunt and my mom
And then I was lucky enough years later to be given the best gift of all: a baby sister – who since her birth has filled my life with frivolity and zest.
That is in no way denigrating the roles of the men in my life – beginning with my father, my brother, my two husbands (not at the same time!) and my five grown sons.
Now I have nieces, nephews, grandsons and granddaughters, daughters-in-law, sisters-in law, brothers-in-law, cousins and extended family. I am blessed.
But today, this column is about the females in my life that I am not related to by blood – an unusually large cache of friends that I can call on for advice, bitching opportunities and constructive feedback.
It started with my next door neighbor Jeanie when I was three years-old and looked up to her as the wisest in the world because she was six months older than me.
When a new lunch place opens, I know who to call for their opinion on just what appetizer to order.
When I am getting too rigid in my thinking, I know who to call to set me straight and tell me to lower my expectations.
When I need to vent about certain family members who are capable of driving me nuts, I know who to call to get a reality check and a reminder that I am once again over personalizing and being way too sensitive.
For advice,
For mentoring,
For guidance,
For playfulness,
For fashion savvy (panty hose vs bare leg?),
For diet secrets (Yasso Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Bars),
For leg cramps (Hyland Leg Cramps),
For minimizing enlarged facial pores (NYX Pore Filler available at Walgreens),
For removing red ink from a white linen blouse,
For camouflaging dark, under eye circles
(Orogold 34K Wrinkle Solution),
It’s always been, and I hope it will always be, my circle of friends.
When I misplaced my mother-in-law’s recipe for brisket, a friend reminded me of the secret ingredient: a can of Classic Coke.
When I mess up on my new project, a friend will say, “Don’t worry – it happens to the best of us – let’s talk it through.”
Who else but a friend would introduce me to the coolest chick on Instagram? Alethea Crimmins.
Who selects the books I will enjoy and nixes the ones I won’t? (The latter is The Covenant of Water by Abraham Verghese. The former is The Magnificent Lives of Marjorie Post by Allison Pataki.
Who comes up with the very best verbiage when I need some encouragement? A friend, who recently emailed me: “Your bright and bold personality is the icing on your never-ending creative cake.”
What’s the next binge-watching series not to be missed? Ask a friend. (I’m now watching all 12 seasons of “The Midwife.”)
Should I or shouldn’t I go gray? A friend will level with you. Mine said, “Absolutely NOT!!!”
Who dares to tell me I need a more high-powered make-up mirror to get control over all those black pesky chin hairs?
And who dares to remind me – once again – to chew with my mouth closed and swallow before talking?
Yep. A friend.
To the friend who always blesses me
To the friend who shops wth and for me
To the friend who keeps me organized
To the many friends who accept I’m a great texter, but a horrible telephoner
I love you all.
The ones who live near
The ones who live far
The ones I connect with daily
Or don’t connect with for months
No matter.
I am in your corner.
You are in my corner.
Whether it’s an earth-shattering or a mundane day, the friends in my life are the backbone of my existence.
They are the people I count on for honesty, integrity, loyalty and engagement.
You know who you are and I simply could not thrive and survive without you.
Here are some of you:
You truly keep me Preserving My Bloom,
September 29, 2023
What do you do when you fall short?
I used to think the key to happiness was having hair like my friend Rella’s. She has masses of sun streaked, golden curls that frame her face in a wild, beautiful way. So I bleached my hair, permed my hair and tried to force my hair into framing my face in a wild and beautiful way. Just like Rella’s. It didn’t work.
So I’ve learned to accept.
I used to think the key to happiness was having closets as neat and orderly as my mom’s. Her towels are folded and lined up in perfect rows, by color and size. Canned goods are regularly routed so that the same can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup doesn’t occupy the same spot in the back of the shelf for three years running. So I organized my linens, my purses, my pantry and my kids’ summer clothes. Just like my mom’s. It worked, but it didn’t stay that way.
So I’ve learned to accept.I used to think the key to happiness was making a decent living. The money comes in regularly and gets deposited in a timely fashion in a balanced (well, some of the time) checking account. The only trouble is that as quickly as it comes in, it goes out – to the cleaners and the grocers and the orthodontist and the shoe store – sometimes even in larger amounts than what came in. Uh Oh.
So I’ve learned to accept.
I used to think the key to happiness was losing weight and having the skinniest possible body my bone structure would realistically allow. The only trouble is that in order to maintain the skinniest possible body my bone structure would realistically allow, I had to eat the least amount possible in order to maintain it.. I decided five pounds and padded hips was better than constant gnawing hunger.
So I’ve learned to accept.
I used to think the key to happiness was driving the kind of car you really wanted in the color you really wanted. And then my husband bought me just that car. The only trouble is that even when driving just the car I wanted, in the exact color I wanted, I noticed a strange thing. It hasn’t prevented me from being impatient at long red lights, irritated at traffic tie-ups on the expressway and highly frustrated over having to retrace my footsteps back from my job downtown because I forgot my purse on the kitchen table.
So I’ve learned to accept.
I used to think the key to happiness was to be soft spoken and calm and use nonjudgmental, tasteful words – just like my mother-in-law. The only problem was that my thoughts were hyper, judgmental, off color and passionate. I started suffering from migraines and unexplained and untimely stomach upsets. I decided honest, spontaneous expression (and passion) was better for my health.
So I ‘ve learned to accept.
I used to think the key to happiness was being as creative as my friend Pam, as optimistic as my friend Julie and as unencumbered as my friend Sherry.
I used to think the key to happiness was being as free as my friend Francine, as kind and caring as my friend Gloria, and as generous as my friend Laurin.
But I’ve found, even when I have occasional spurts of creativity, optimism, freedom, kindness and caring, happiness can still prove short-lived and illusory.
So I’ve learned to:
give up on the hair and neat closets
cherish the pay check even when it falls short
celebrate the body
enjoy the car
resign myself to my own individual personality
And acknowledge what I’ve intuitively known all along: that the key to happiness is simply TO ACCEPT.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
This column was written many, many years ago, adjusted with minor updates – and the bulk of it remains true.
September 22, 2023
The Smoothie That Everyone Hates But Me!
Okay. No preamble today. Right into it.
I tackled a recipe I found on the Internet:
A cottage cheese smoothie
Created by ME
Ingredients:
1/2 cup cottage cheese
I frozen banana (partially thawed)
1 tsp. of ground cinnamon
I scoop of Purely Inspired Organic Protein Powder (vanilla flavored).
Blend all together in a Nutri Bullet until it is fully blended.
And enjoy!
Except nobody does, except ME!
Why am I bringing this up at this particular juncture?
Because, just recently, the Wall Street Journal ran a feature on cottage cheese with the following headline:
Whey Cool: Gen Z
Discovers Cottage Cheese
The lumpy white curds are now the new “it” food and are being incorporated into ice cream, cookies, pasta sauces, dips and pancakes. Lainie Kates, a holistic health coach, posted a recipe for ice cream on Tik Tok that garnered over a million views. It’s secret ingredient? Cottage cheese!
It may have been our grandmother’s go-to diet food and a mainstay in menus in assisted living facilities all across the country, but cottage cheese is now hitting the charts as an easy way to increase protein intake among fitness gurus.
Is cottage cheese suddenly getting sexy?
Is cottage cheese really that versatile?
I decided to find out for myself.
I tackled a recipe for cookies made from cottage cheese that I found on the Internet.
· ▢ 1 cup 4% milkfat cottage cheese, I used whole milk Good Culture cottage cheese
· ▢ ¼ cup pure maple syrup
· ▢ 1 teaspoon vanilla
· ▢ 1 cup almond flour
· ▢ 2 Tablespoons melted coconut oil
· ▢ ½ cup vanilla protein powder
· ▢ ½ cup chocolate chips, plus more for topping
This cottage cheese cookie recipe is pretty straightforward, but I did NOT find it particularly easy to make!
Start by preheating your oven to 350°F and lining a baking sheet with parchment paper. In a blender, add the cottage cheese, maple syrup and vanilla and blend on high until smooth.
In a medium mixing bowl combine the almond flour and protein powder. Then add the coconut oil and cottage cheese mixture and stir until combined. Gently fold in the chocolate chips.
Scoop the dough onto the prepared baking sheet using a medium cookie scoop and use your hands to flatten the cookies just a bit so they’re in a cookie shape. You can also roll the cookie dough into a ball and then use your hand to flatten for a more uniform shape.
Top the cookies with a few more chocolate chips and bake for about 15-16 minutes or until the bottom of the cookies are golden brown.
Let cool for a few minutes on the baking sheet then transfer to wire racks to cool completely. Enjoy!
(See below for more detailed information on Cottage Cheese Cookies before baking.)
https://www.eatingbirdfood.com/cottage-cheese-cookies/
I made them one Sunday afternoon when I had nothing better to do.
Three adjustments:
I had to add more cottage cheese of a moister variety than what the recipe called for because the batter was way too dry.I had to flatten the cookies out with a spatula before baking.I had to bake them twice as long as the recipe called for.
Here’s my finished product.
My husband loved them.
I thought they were tasteless.
Go figure.
I think I’ll just stick to my cottage cheese smoothies.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
September 15, 2023
The Significance of September
For years, September to me meant Change – a new page in the book of my life.
First, I was a school kid with skinny legs and knobby knees running for the bus with my ponytail flying in the wind.
Each September my teachers changed and my grade level accelerated. But the two people who greeted me at the end of my first day of school every year were always the same: my mother and my grandmother.
Then I grew up and my perspective about September underwent another sea change.
There were the tears – whoops, I mean years – that I thought would go on forever – when I sent my own little kids off to school in September – initially in car pools, then on big yellow school buses and then, when they turned 16, driving in one of our family cars. Even though their grade in school, their teachers, and the schools they attended all changed in September, I was always there to see them off to school and to welcome them home. (One of my fondest memories is of my son, Sam, upon seeing my smiling face greeting him at the front door as he breezed in from school, say, “Gee, Mom, do you ALWAYS have to be here when I get home?”)
September had a cruel side to it too. My beloved grandmother died in September – just as those luscious green leaves began to turn a crusty orange and gold. And years later, our family lost our iconic patriarch – my dad – and my first cousin lost her oldest son – all in September too.
The years roll by. Now my children send their children off to preschool, kindergarten, elementary, middle and high school. And my feelings about September have shifted yet again.
So many days I have spent trying to clear the clutter of my life in order to find a clearer path. So many days I have spent feverishly pursuing my to-do list – oblivious to the many pleasures and much good fortune I already possessed.
Tonight, at sundown, is the beginning of the Jewish New Year – Rosh Hashanah – a holiday filled with joy, reverence for renewal and wishes for sweetness in the year 5784.
This Rosh Hashanah, I’m feeling a turn in my attitude away from loss and nostalgia and toward gratitude, serenity and acceptance – another significant change occurring in September.
We as Jews go to the synagogue. We pray. We indulge in festive meals. We eat challah round in shape, dip apples in honey and exclaim over the chicken soup and brisket. That too is a change – a change in pace from our normal scrounged together dinners, eaten without our families surrounding us and then quickly finished so we can hurriedly tackle the next task on our ever-burgeoning to-do list.
May we all – Jews and non-Jews – take time out this September – to set aside precious moments to dine together, break bread together, discourse and discuss together. And of course, wish each other days filled with abundance, good health and many blessings.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom
Iris Ruth Pastor
Who hasn’t gotten mad at their kids, yelled at their husband, neighbor or co-worker and endured an occasional dark and dismal day?
I certainly have! But in spite of it all, I have found profound happiness at every stage and at every age in my life.
It all involves being the best version of yourself. And I can show you how to find that magic inside you that will allow you to live the life you crave.
Join me on November 8.
September 1, 2023
Tangling With Mother Nature
It’s Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:14pm and I am sitting on my screened-in porch writing this column.
I am over-looking my 100-year-old oak trees just a few yards from where I sit. Birds are chirping. The early evening sky is a startling blue. And sounds of traffic just beyond my walled yard intermittently break my concentration – reminding me that things are rapidly returning to normal.
Yesterday my husband and I were notified that we were in a mandatory evacuation zone due to an impending hurricane. And that we must find safe shelter somewhere else. Local news stations were reporting that the central portion of the West Coast of Florida could be in the direct path of Hurricane Idalia.
And that’s precisely where we reside.
We know the drill:
Remove all plants and furniture from our three porches.
Dump the irreplaceable, bound copies of newspapers I have written for in the past into our washer and dryer for safe keeping.
Grab some cash.
Fill-up the car with gas.
Pack-up our prescription meds, a battery-operated radio, a few perishables, a change of clothes, the dog and his food and his bed.
Text our kids.
Off we go to the home of my niece and her husband, miles from any body of water.
Once again, we have left our house not knowing what will still be standing once we return. The possibility of high winds or an errant tornado screeching through our yard, felling our huge oak trees, smashing through our house, is uppermost in my mind.
How many times can we dodge a direct hit?
And, once again, it looks like a direct hit is likely.
Hurricane Idalia comes whipping up the coast, churning up the very warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. At first, it seems like it IS heading straight toward Tampa, where we live. Then… it turns northeast and we breathe a sigh of relief.
Though safely situated in my niece’s home, my anxiety returns. I am glued to the local TV station until 3 in the morning, avidly watching as the newscasters and roving reporters profile the different communities hugging the coast as Idelia unleashes her wrath.
Rising water. Horrible winds. Pelting rain. Power outages. Storm surges.
In mid-afternoon, we get the all-clear to come back to our neighborhood. The water has receded back into the Bay – just two blocks away. My husband and I nervously walk our property.
The beach towels we had haphazardly stuffed around the double front doors are still dry. Our huge, old oak trees are still gallantly standing – unlike the one torn in half and felled to the ground at the Florida governor’s mansion in Tallahasseee. Our windows aren’t punctured. Our screens not torn. Debris is scarce.
We proceed to put our three porches and patio back together. Having stashed most of the tables, plant stands, plants, and wicker furniture in our family room and living room, we hurriedly start restoring order in our fevered quest for normalcy.
And then, I pause. I am exhausted, sweaty, and thirsty. I decide to not only restore order, but to re-configure the contents of my screened porch off the family room. A sane person would wait until the next day. Not me. I begin:
Eliminate half the plants previously crowding the porch
Forget putting back the ottomans we never use
Replace the three swivel chairs with my wicker couch from the patio
Cut down on the clutter of candles, pine cones and seashells crowding out the round table top in the corner
I create a space shouting “Serenity”
I create a space to match the growing presence of gratefulness and relief washing over me.
I’m paying tribute to how lucky we are to live in a beautiful area.
I’m paying tribute to once more being spared the terror of Mother Nature’s random forces.
I’m being mindful of those less fortunate among us who won’t be going to bed tonight with an intact, dry, livable house – much less a newly reconstituted screened in porch overlooking those simply marvelous oak trees.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
You Just Never Know
It’s Wednesday, August 30, 2023 at 7:14pm and I am sitting on my screened-in porch writing this column.
I am over-looking my 100-year-old oak trees just a few yards from where I sit. Birds are chirping. The early evening sky is a startling blue. And sounds of traffic just beyond my walled yard intermittently break my concentration – reminding me that things are rapidly returning to normal.
Yesterday my husband and I were notified that we were in a mandatory evacuation zone due to an impending hurricane. And that we must find safe shelter somewhere else. Local news stations were reporting that the central portion of the West Coast of Florida could be in the direct path of Hurricane Idalia.
And that’s precisely where we reside.
We know the drill:
Remove all plants and furniture from our three porches.
Dump the irreplaceable, bound copies of newspapers I have written for in the past into our washer and dryer for safe keeping.
Grab some cash.
Fill-up the car with gas.
Pack-up our prescription meds, a battery-operated radio, a few perishables, a change of clothes, the dog and his food and his bed.
Text our kids.
Off we go to the home of my niece and her husband, miles from any body of water.
Once again, we have left our house not knowing what will still be standing once we return. The possibility of high winds or an errant tornado screeching through our yard, felling our huge oak trees, smashing through our house, is uppermost in my mind.
How many times can we dodge a direct hit?
And, once again, it looks like a direct hit is likely.
Hurricane Idalia comes whipping up the coast, churning up the very warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. At first, it seems like it IS heading straight toward Tampa, where we live. Then… it turns northeast and we breathe a sigh of relief.
Though safely situated in my niece’s home, my anxiety returns. I am glued to the local TV station until 3 in the morning, avidly watching as the newscasters and roving reporters profile the different communities hugging the coast as Idelia unleashes her wrath.
Rising water. Horrible winds. Pelting rain. Power outages. Storm surges.
In mid-afternoon, we get the all-clear to come back to our neighborhood. The water has receded back into the Bay – just two blocks away. My husband and I nervously walk our property.
The beach towels we had haphazardly stuffed around the double front doors are still dry. Our huge, old oak trees are still gallantly standing – unlike the one torn in half and felled to the ground at the Florida governor’s mansion in Tallahasseee. Our windows aren’t punctured. Our screens not torn. Debris is scarce.
We proceed to put our three porches and patio back together. Having stashed most of the tables, plant stands, plants, and wicker furniture in our family room and living room, we hurriedly start restoring order in our fevered quest for normalcy.
And then, I pause. I am exhausted, sweaty, and thirsty. I decide to not only restore order, but to re-configure the contents of my screened porch off the family room. A sane person would wait until the next day. Not me. I begin:
Eliminate half the plants previously crowding the porch
Forget putting back the ottomans we never use
Replace the three swivel chairs with my wicker couch from the patio
Cut down on the clutter of candles, pine cones and seashells crowding out the round table top in the corner
I create a space shouting “Serenity”
I create a space to match the growing presence of gratefulness and relief washing over me.
I’m paying tribute to how lucky we are to live in a beautiful area.
I’m paying tribute to once more being spared the terror of Mother Nature’s random forces.
I’m being mindful of those less fortunate among us who won’t be going to bed tonight with an intact, dry, livable house – much less a newly reconstituted screened in porch overlooking those simply marvelous oak trees.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
August 25, 2023
What the Heck is Cinematic Therapy?
My friend Lynne Billing sent me the following information:
A psychologist, Carla Marie Manly, watched the new Barbie movie and had this to say about cinematic therapy:
This form of ‘cinematic therapy’ I experienced watching Barbie is a legitimate concept. Films have the potential to improve our mental and emotional health.
When cinematic content inspires us to discover and become our best selves—to take the steps necessary to create the lives of our own dreams—the price of admission is exceedingly small. And even if a movie doesn’t propel to some amazing new level in real life, a two-hour dose of cinematic positivity is certainly good for the soul.
Although I admit the movie Barbie didn’t move my needle very much. But I was intrigued by the concept of “Cinematic Therapy” and so asked a few of my buddies what movies have inspired them and why. Below are some of their answers.
Jack: The Magnificent Seven was inspiring on several levels. The farmers and the hired guns faced overwhelming odds. The farmers stood up to the bandits that were taking advantage of their weakness. Rather than running from it, they were motivated and strengthened by it.
Fighting against the odds never dissuades me. Facing a problem head-on appeals to me. It’s how I react to adversity. I live by the maxim that “If you want to achieve what others don’t, you have to do what others won’t.”
Laurin: Any movie involving the Holocaust brings me to my knees. I am shocked, sad, humbled ……I strive to make up for those lost souls through my Judaica and Hebrew teachings and knowledge for the next generations to come!
Gingy: Movies of the 40s and 50s were my education. I learned from all–even the B movies. I grew up wanting a white telephone and a fluffy pink bed jacket and fancy house slippers with heels. I wanted the waiter to bring the telephone to my table. I wanted to wear make-up like Moira Shearer in The Red Shoes. I still do.
Anonymous: I love Inglorious Bastards – its alternate version of history feels so good.
Dianne: I was always mesmerized by Queen Elizabeth I… Magnificent women played Lizzie I; Bette Davis, Judi Dench, Helen Mirren, Cate Blanchett…
The more I watched these adaptations, the more I saw how the icon was unpacked…I still marvel at Lizzie from her birth, to the impact of her mother dying, to her father’s rejection, to the many ‘foster’ people who were the chief-operating-officers of her youth, to only one of five other queen-step-mothers who embraced her with affection, to being imprisoned in the Tower, to having people who plotted to kill her, to her love and passions for a man being second to her priority of ruling for the good of her people, to misogyny of men who thought a woman unworthy of her being a ‘Prince’ (ruling queen). She prevailed to become one of the most significant, successful queens in history. (Without the drama of Cleopatra!) You take ‘just’ a woman~ all of us, and I say, “lesson learned.” All 4 of these movies reinforced my image of Queen Elizabeth I.
Lori: Funny Girl with Barbara Streisand is my choice. Fanny Brice’s ability to believe in herself and her ability to power through any heartbreak she encountered had a profound impact on me at a very young age.
Anonymous: I love Babette’s Feast. It’s beautifully simple and shows devotion, kindness, and features a most gorgeous elaborate French feast as a gesture of gratitude and appreciation. It is a quiet and lovely movie.
David: I would have to say that “To Kill A Mockingbird” is probably the one movie that has inspired me more than any others. Atticus Finch is a wonderful role model as an attorney, but also as a father and as a kind, decent person who gracefully dealt with very difficult times in the Deep South during segregation. I aspired to be like him when I went to law school and later as a Dean, Department Chair and Professor at Saint Leo University. I know he was a fictional character, but to me he is a great role model.
My all-time favorite that I watch every January – snuggling comfortably on my couch – is Dr. Zhivago.
I am besotted with the scenery, haunted by the music, moved by the superb script. The secrets we keep, the unavailable men we love, the political upheaval we can easily be swept up in and the tragedies resulting from revolutions and civil unrest all intrigue me.
And an interesting side note: Dr. Zhivago could not be filmed in Russia – where it takes place – because the book by Boris Pasternak was banned there. (Sound familiar?)
Happy Watching and Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
August 18, 2023
It was enough for me
Everywhere I look in my house, things are in in disarray
The books on the topmost shelves of my living room wall are stuffed together in no particular order
The suitcases of every shape, size, and color are haphazardly piled in the corner of the garage between the pile of broken flower pots and endless varieties of plant fertilizer
The heap of cheap (and not-so-cheap) cosmetics I buy and never try are stashed in an overflowing drawer in my guest bathroom
The cookbooks are jumbled together in my pantry – squeezed in between outdated, seldom-used jars of spices and stale crackers
Everywhere I look in the newspapers delivered to my door, headlines scream out reminding me that the world too is in disarray.
As Planet Warms, No Place is Safe
5 Americans Held Prisoner in Iran
Ukrainians Fight Russians Inch by Inch
Hospitals Shut Down Maternity Wards, Leaving Women, Infants at Higher Risk
Omicron Subvariant Drives Rise in Covid Infections
No wonder I feel untethered, anxious, and unfocused – coupled with a huge inability to start a task and complete it without feeling overwhelmed and distracted.
“One small thing,” I tell myself. “Just accomplish one small thing today and you will feel better.”
I decide to bake my husband a birthday cake.
Rather than tackle the gargantuan number of cookbook volumes in my disorganised kitchen pantry, I head right for my computer on my kitchen counter. Rapidly I tap in “the perfect carrot cake.”
In 49 seconds, 62,800 results pop-up.
My conclusion: apparently there are a lot of “perfect” recipes for making carrot cake from scratch.
I choose one.
https://sallysbakingaddiction.com/my-favorite-carrot-cake-recipe/
The haphazard pile of luggage in my garage is still piled up haphazardly – as are my books on the top shelves in the living room, my cosmetics in the guest bathroom drawer and my cookbooks in the pantry. And I still have a pile of unread newspapers to weed through.
But, I baked my husband the most perfect birthday cake today. And that is enough for me.
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor
