Iris Ruth Pastor's Blog, page 3

Yearning for the “Swinging” Life

One thing we all hear nowadays is that if we want to find balance and calm in our lives – we need to look inward. That, we are preached at, is the kind of happiness that matters. 

I get that mindset. It’s probably why I go to yoga three times a week – to reduce stress and anxiety, to enhance my moods and promote a positive outlook on life.

And yet, we find joy constantly in the material world too.

Every hour of every day, the mundane objects and spaces that we interact with can also vastly affect our mood and outlook.

For instance, a dirty computer keyboard elicits immediate irritation when I sit down in front of my computer. A clean one – free of debris, crumbs and dirt particles – elicits a sense of peace. 

Every time I walk into my master bedroom, I am grossed out by the dirt and grime which has accumulated on our wall-to-wall ivory carpeting. I keep reminding myself that as soon as our new puppy is trained, we can get it professionally cleaned. Still, it depresses me.

I can’t stand a bunch of random papers on my kitchen counter and the jumbled-up mess in my linen closet.

On the other hand, the arrangement of richly purple silk flowers in my guest room fills me with sunny thoughts. The new way I arranged my non-fiction books in my library is soul-satisfying. Looking at my grandmother’s teacups neatly lined up in a glass cabinet off my kitchen soars my spirits. 

We shouldn’t feel guilty when we put effort into enhancing the beauty of our surroundings. It is not a frivolous indulgence. We shouldn’t be made to feel shallow or overly materialistic because we put effort into the aesthetics. (Aesthetics deal with the nature of beauty and encompasses visual appeal and its emotional impact.)

“Joy is a momentary and intense experience of positive emotion,” so says author Ingrid Fetell Lee in her book Joyful. 

“Joy,” Lee says, “can be recognized by certain telltale signs: smiling, laughing, and a feeling of wanting to jump up and down.”

Who doesn’t want more of that twirling, giggling and exuberant emotions in our lives?

How to incorporate into our external environments those things that elicit such joy? 

Here’s some wisdom from Ingrid Fetell Lee:

Utilize bright and vibrant colors: they stir us out of complacency like a shot of caffeine. Color pulls joy to the surface.

Work near a window and spend time in nature: this  increases our exposure to daylight, which in turn reduces blood pressure, promotes higher energy levels, and can even lengthen life span.

Mix different variations of light – keeping in mind that the brightest places are where people will tend to congregate so adapt accordingly. (Lee recommends choosing light bulbs with a Coloring Rendering Index (CRI) of 100.)

Decrease the volume of furniture – smaller furniture  creates more negative space – thus allowing more freedom of movement.

Swing – one of my sons has a full-size swing in his basement for his kids. Every time I visit, I creep down into the basement and push-off – going higher and higher – feeling less and less constrained – and more and more rejuvenated. 

After my last visit, I return home, lamenting the fact I don’t have a basement. I begin looking around my small and compact yard, taking note of my huge, over-hanging oak trees. 

“Where could I put a swing?” I wonder. “Roped around one of those branches perhaps?”

It becomes apparent that the only space that will work on my corner lot is in my front yard – a front yard which has clear visual proximity to a very busy street.

Would I look ridiculous – a 77 year-old crone – swinging wildly in her front yard??????
Probably.

But it’s not going to stop me from my continuous quest for JOY!Keep Preserving Your Bloom, 
Fully Enjoy the Fourth of July and 
Don’t Miss Those Spectacular Fireworks,

Cheesy and Predictable or Richly Soul Satisfying?

I’m driving home at 5 in the afternoon from a series of irritating errands – dropping off a favorite blouse at the dry cleaners that I have once again stained – picking up a lush and heavily verdant basil plant at the nursery to replace the one I over watered and killed. 

At the same time, I’m kinda ruminating about The Sopranos – a series I have been feverishly binge watching again for the last three weeks. I am enthralled with Tony Soprano’s wife Carmela – played by Edie Falco. I am fascinated by how Carmela vocalizes strong disapproval for Tony’s criminal lifestyle, often expressing a desire for a more conventional existence. At the same time, she fully enjoys the trappings of his success, his power base, the material benefits afforded her and her financial security. 

And, at the same time I’m ruminating over Carmela’s reactions, I’m kinda half listening to a segment on NPR’s “Florida Matters” when the phrase “Steamy Lit” catches my attention.

What in the heck is Steamy Lit?

Steamy Lit is a type of story that features romantic or erotic themes, has intense emotional connections, provocative storylines and explicitly sexual content. And that’s not all: Steamy Lit prioritizes passionate relationships, sensual experiences and intimate encounters between characters.

I’m starting to squirm. I turn up the volume and fine tune my hearing aids.  

Apparently, unbeknownst to myself, there is a store almost within walking distance of my house bearing that same name: Steamy Lit. I make a reckless U turn, double back the way I had just come, and quickly pull up to the store front. I snap a quick picture, vowing to come back soon for a visit.

In the meantime, I start researching romance genre in general.

In the 1990’s, I had a face-to-face interview with American author Nora Roberts, who has written more than 225 novels, including many in the romance arena. She assured me that every book she had published or would publish would always have a happy ending. 

There is a plethora of dramatic headlines since Covid – most  portending doom and gloom. In conjunction with this fact, the sales of romance novels has been surging. Many attribute this to people’s  desire for escapism, particularly during times like this – when the world is riddled with stress, violence and  uncertainty. It’s no wonder: romance novels guarantee happy endings – which in turn provide comfort and reassurance to readers.

Another contributing factor to the growing popularity of romance novels is the influence of social media platforms like TikTok. Tik Tok showcases book recommendations, allows authors to actively share their insights, fosters a sense of community among romance readers and is credited for promoting wide breadth of romance subgenres including LGBTQ+. Story lines that are inclusive and diverse naturally attract a wider readership.  

Growth is also affected by the prolific numbers of BIPOC authors –Black, Indigenous and People of Color (Asian, Latinx, Middle Eastern  and Pacific Islander) churning out romantic fare.

When I hear the two words “Steamy Lit.”  I immediately conjure up a bodice ripping male and a swooning defenseless female enveloped in an endless circle of sex, romance, intrigue and illicit pleasure. Kinda like this book cover:

Today’s best-selling romance novels are a greater sum of parts than that. These sizzlers incorporate characters who are also dealing with real life challenges – Alzheimer in a parent, loss, second chances, mental health issues, and finding the way back to one another after facing tragedy. They are stories that question belief systems and pre-conceived values and present varied perspectives. They focus not just on heavily rippled bodies and voluptuous body parts, but also character development and growth. 

I remember shame-facedly reading Fifty Shades of Gray by E.L James on a long cross country plane flight  in 2011 – nervously looking around to make sure no one I knew was sitting nearby. Those days are over.

I’m flying out next week. And I’ve got two romance novels carefully packed in my carry-on. I can’t wait to read them both – IN PUBLIC! I’ll let you know if they are Cheesy and Predictable, Richly Soul Satisfying or a little bit of both!

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

“The Lucky Ones”

Two of my eight grandchildren graduated from high school recently. They were both raised in loving homes with food security, ample creature comforts and myriad opportunities to excel at school and to explore their interests outside of school. 

I watched them proudly accept their diplomas, surrounded by loyal friends, loving families and dedicated teachers.

They are “The Lucky Ones”.

My friend, Peggy Friedman, on her Facebook page, shares the following:
On the 14th of November, 1932, in the Polish city of Radom, a baby girl named Celina Gutman was born into the warm arms of her parents. (Her picture is above.)

Radom, located in central Poland, had a thriving Jewish population before World War II. For centuries, families like the Gutmans had lived and loved there, passing down stories, prayers, and melodies from generation to generation.

Celina was a bright, spirited child with a voice that filled every room she entered. From the earliest age, she was drawn to music. 

She loved school, especially choir practice. Her teacher noticed early on that Celina had a pure, clear voice, a soprano tone that seemed to rise like sunlight through the classroom windows. 

Celina’s family lived a modest life. Her father worked in a textile factory; her mother tended the home. 

Celina’s joyful world did not last.

In September 1939, when Celina was six years old, Nazi Germany invaded Poland. The beautiful rhythms of her childhood were shattered by the thunder of war. German soldiers flooded into Radom, and, overnight, everything changed. Jews were forced to register, to wear armbands, to give up their businesses. Families were crammed into ghettos. Food became scarce. Freedom disappeared.

In 1942, the Nazis began to “liquidate” the ghettos as part of their plan to exterminate the Jews of Poland. On August 5, 1942, the Radom Ghetto was raided. Thousands were rounded up and deported to Treblinka, one of the most infamous Nazi death camps. Almost all those sent there were killed within hours of arrival.

Celina was just 10 years old.

We do not know exactly how or when she arrived in Treblinka. We do not know if she cried, if she clung to her mother’s hand, or if she tried to comfort a sibling on that final train. 

And then she was gone. Murdered in a camp built to erase her, by men who saw her not as a child, not as a person, but as something unworthy of life. A little girl with a song in her heart—silenced forever.

I began learning about the Holocaust when my mom bought me a copy of The Diary of Anne Frank. Terror and horror claimed a permanent place in my heart. I simply couldn’t imagine a world where families were forced into hiding due to their religious beliefs. I couldn’t begin to grasp the horror of more than one million children under the age of 16 purposely ripped from their parents’ loving arms, forced into hideous death camps and burned in ovens. 

And for a long time, the Holocaust remained a singular hideous and tragic event. 

Then came more slaughters – the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia, the Rwandan Genocide and the ethnic cleansing in Bosnia. 

Celina’s tragic story became not so unique. Right now – right this minute – so many children worldwide are having their routines brutally disrupted, their lives shattered, their dreams broken, their lives abruptly ended. 

When will it stop?

These are all children who had a favorite stuffed animal and a familiar bedtime ritual. They had dreams and talents and sparkle that are lost to the world forever. They should have grown up sheltered by their family’s love and protection. They should have had a chance to pursue their dreams, marry, pass on their family traditions to their own children. Their lives were stolen; their potential squashed.

When will the bigotry, hatred and carnage stop? 

When will each and every child be one of “The Lucky Ones”?

Keep Preserving Your Bloom, 

Summer, 2000

I get ready for my 35th high school reunion much like I got ready for my 10th reunion – in a hurry with the house a mess.  Dressing while throwing in loads of dirty wash.  Agonizing over my hips. Berating myself for not losing the five pounds I vowed I would lose before the last time I saw these people. Mentally putting my twirling emotions on hold.  Trying on four outfits before I am comfortable about how I look. And still not comfortable. Wondering about who else will be there. And who won’t. And why.

Masses of people mingling. Music blaring. Hugging. So many of us hugging. Squeals of delight. Whispered confessions. Huddles of three. Pushing. Back slapping. Hand holding. Snippets of so many sentences beginning with:

I know you won’t believe this but….Remember when….Does your mom still…I was always afraid to…. You were always… 

So little talk on stocks to buy, candidates to vote for, foreign ports to visit, or new stores to shop.

But this I know to be true:
I judge my high school classmates differently than I judge others. Less harshly. I love them for the very foibles and failings that in others I abhor.

My boyfriend will always be my boyfriend, no matter how long we’ve both been married to someone else.

My best friend will always be my best friend, no matter how many other best friends I have made since graduating from high school in 1965.

My classmates who danced with abandon and delight all night long still do. And the ones who hugged the sidelines watching everyone else laugh and whoop it up, they still do.

We are past boasting.  

Some of us live in our dream houses. Most of us are making do with what we’ve got.  

Some of us had kids and some of us didn’t. And for those that did, some of our high expectations were met and some were lowered.   

How do I sum up a four-year experience that happened with a special group of people so long ago that indelibly shaped me into the person I became, am capable of becoming and sometimes even rise to the occasion to become?

One of my son Sam‘s closest friends said it best when he called from college just hours before my 35th Reunion and I happened to answer the phone: “Life is great,” he confided to me, “but I miss everybody.”

I wrote the above column twenty-five years ago. Soon my husband, Steven, and I will be returning to our hometown to attend our 60th high school reunion. 

What hasn’t changed:
My house is still a mess.
And I’m still trying to lose five pounds.

What has changed:
For sure, there will be far fewer of the 750 members of the graduating class of ’65 at our reunion this time than 25 years ago. And far fewer of us will be dancing than 25 years ago due to various hip, knee and back issues. 

What will always be:
The exquisite feeling of walking into a room filled with people who knew you:

before you got your driver’s license, when you still had a curfew, when you were too young to drink legally and when you took your functioning knees, hips and back for granted. 

These are my people. This is my original tribe. And I cherish each and every one of them.

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Iris Ruth Pastor

The Endless Joys of Aging

Plagiarism – that dreaded charge that all published writers fear.  
 
Long ago, in the 1980’s, I had lunch with Susan Isaacs, then a best-selling novelist. She confided that she too fears plagiarism’s brute force. To guard against having her brain assaulted with ideas from other novelists, she refrains from reading fiction altogether.
 
I purposely don’t read other slice-of-life columnists. No insidious little thoughts of theirs will crawl silently into my brain as I slumber. If I don’t read them, I can’t inadvertently copy them. I don’t even read their headlines.
 
But I do buy books. And recently, I bought a rollicking little book called 1,003 Great Things About Getting Older. And although the format is mine and some of the entries are mine, I must sadly admit the majority of the following comes from that little gem of a book.
 
Enjoy it anyway. Great thoughts are meant to be shared, as long as they are credited, of course.

If you think aging means:
         Vitamin B 12 shots
         Estrogen Supplements
         Angioplasty
         And Antacid Pills
Think again!

Instead of lamenting youth’s passing, concentrate on the great things about getting older:
         No one asks you anymore how you did on your SAT’s
         You have a profound new respect for your knees
         You no longer have to figure out if “No” means “Yes”
         And you’ll never have to go in-line skating or bungee jumping

If you think aging means:
         Facelifts
         Electrolysis Sites
         Arthritis
         Heartburn and
         Bifocals
Think again.

Instead of lamenting youth’s passing, concentrate on the great things about getting older:
         No more long lustrous hair that gets stuck in everything
         No more admiring glances from the opposite sex that distract you from figuring out which drugstore coupons to use
         No more firm, firm breasts to get in the way of a good night’s sleep – yours or your partner’s
         And you can finally wear a bathing suit with a skirt

If you think aging means:
         Dental Implants
         Mandatory Retirement
         Hearing Aids
         Glaucoma
         And Wrinkles
Thank again.

There are great things about getting older:
         Sagging jowls have made your cheekbones more prominent
         Pimples on your chin are now a badge of vibrancy not a social impediment
         When you travel by plane, a flight attendant will help you put your bag in an overhead compartment
         When you travel by car, people will get out of your way 
         Chances grow smaller every year that you will die in childbirth

If you think aging means:
         Hip Replacements
         Root Canals
         Aching Joints
         Walkers
         And Senility
Think again.

No more:
         Tight braces on your teeth
         Menstrual cramps and training bras
         Breaking-up at the end of the summer
         Freshman mixers
         Matrimonial jitters
         Entry level jobs
         Home pregnancy tests
         Labor pains and midnight feedings

Now that you are a woman of a certain age, you can concentrate on the great things attaining that status affords you:
         Cough drops in lots of colors
         Bubble gum for denture wearers
         No more tedious Christmas shopping ordeals – now you can just write a check
         Assurance that there’s nothing left to learn “the hard way”
         And realizing that adult diapers are kind of convenient
         And other people‘s wisdom can be pretty wise

Finally, on the very personal question of your virginity, at our advanced age you can be perfectly honest without the dire consequences of getting a sordid reputation. Simply reply like the character Maizy did in the Broadway musical “Shucked”: 

“I lost my virginity, but I still have the box it came in.” 
Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Finally – Getting What You Want!

Sometimes I think I live under a rock.
Up until a week ago, I had never heard of Mel Robbins. 
Have you? 
Most probably you have. 

At age 41, she was unemployed, $800,000 in debt and her husband’s business was crumbling. Today she is a New York Times best-selling author and a world-renowned expert on motivation and changing one’s behavior. Her work is translated into 41 languages and her podcast is top rated too. 

Like many of us, she struggled for years with envy, jealousy, fear of change, and being overly sensitive to other’s opinion of her.

How’d she get past all that baggage? She shares her ground-breaking insights in her book Let Them.

Here are some of her most salient points on the path to self-empowerment:
     Let go of things we cannot control
     Allow other people in our lives to take charge of their own destinies and navigate their own challenges, thus abdicating our responsibility for other’s personal happiness.

When faced with a plethora of unpleasant tasks, who wants to get up in the morning? Not me. Probably not you. Not Mel Robbins either. But she did.
     She forced herself out of bed 
     She pushed herself to take action 
     She fought through her fear, self-doubt and myriad excuses 

All this revolves around Mel Robbins LET THEM mantra. It’s all about controlling our own thoughts, actions and responses. It’s all about  letting go of the belief that we can control other’s actions and choices. And it’s all about not letting other people’s behaviors bother us. 

Robbins emphasizes LET THEM is NOT LETTING SOMETHING GO – which implies surrendering to something. Let Them is coming from a well of strength – where we release our grip on how we feel things should go and allow them to unfold the way they will go, thus freeing ourselves to put our energies into our own silo. 

Who can’t relate to life’s aggravations?
     A child who chooses a different career path than what we deem appropriate and wise
     A spouse who doesn’t eat healthy
     A parent who blurts out insults without a filter
     A boss who doesn’t recognize our worth
     A friend who leaves us out of an outing

LET ME is the next step in our personal quest for peace, success and joy. 

LET ME is our taking responsibility for what we do next when confronted with these situations and making it our personal choice to empower ourselves to be the change we want to see. 

It’s hard work to change. It’s accepting the fact that very often life isn’t fair and that many people are dealt better hands than we were. It’s about not being jealous of other’s success but learning from them how they achieved it.

It’s hard work to change. It means showing up every day to do the tasks that are often boring, irritating and uncomfortable. As one of Mel Robbins’ friends, Jeff Walker, who is also a best-selling author, said, “You gotta do ‘the reps.’”

Let’s start right this minute to DO THE REPS!

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

PS: Do you have a “Happy Place”?
A place that fills you with positive energy, warmth and tranquility?
A place where you feel a strong sense of belonging?
A place where so many of your nostalgic memories are stored?

Here is something I’m at least partially up to speed on: CNN at 10 pm on Sundays presents a six-part series on celebrity hosts’ happy places. And it’s titled “Happy Places”!

This Sunday Wolf Blitzer revisits Buffalo, New York – a city for him that is a re-charging sanctuary. I think this program may provide you and me with just that too.

It’s Give-Away Time!

Over the years when I am stressed, did I turn to retail therapy for relief?
Yes.
But not to buy shoes, pocketbooks, or yet another black knit top.
Nope.
I headed for the nearest neighborhood bookstore to buy hardback books – mainly novels – in order to escape reality and lose myself in a mind-gripping story line. 

I bought a lot of books – especially after my fifth son was born and I had five boys to raise and care for. I needed an escape route.

Now? It’s still not a pair of earrings or yet another pair of yoga pants that lowers my blood pressure. It’s book buying. I just flip open my Mac Book Air and type in those six magic letters: AMAZON. And, away we go! My book of choice appears on my doorstep within days – sometimes even just hours. Or, since I am unencumbered with little ones, I often choose to simply jump into the car and head for the local bookstore to browse, buy and sniff in that delicious aroma of brand new books.

If you walk into my house for the first time, you will instantly know I am a book lover. 
          Books in the living room 

          Books in the family room 

          Books on the floor of the hall leading to the family room 

Books precariously stacked up on my old fashioned scale in my bedroom

     Books 
     Books
     Books 
     They’re everywhere 

The other day it dawned on me that though my books are eye candy to me, a perpetual worshipper of the physical book, what purpose are they serving lined up on my shelves? I’ll never re-read them again. 
I began looking for a home for my approximate 1000 hard cover novels – which can be classified as women’s fiction. (Chick lit is a demeaning and misleading term, usually reserved for lighter or more humorous narratives. Women’s fiction focuses on women’s experiences, relationships and personal growth.)
I know access to women’s fiction books can provide many benefits: 
Provide an emotional escapefrom current stressful situations
Promote empathy and compassion
Serve as role models that inspire hope and self-reflection 
Foster connection with others
Improve literacy
Help the reader see the world from another perspective. 

So I have decided: 

It’s time to find a new home for my novels.Not just any home, but a home that provides hope, solace and comfort to all who dwell there.
I am looking for a facility that supports the emotional and psychological well-being of women during difficult and challenging times in their lives. 
     A women’s prison
     A battered women’s shelter or 
     A home for homeless teenage girls
If you know of any particular place that would be willing to take my collection, please let me know. I would be happy to bear the expense of transport and the building of shelves to house my volumes. 
What do I want in a return? A sign posted nearby that reads as follows: 

Engaging with literature 
improves critical thinking skills, 
enhances personal development and 
offers a mental and emotional reprieve during difficult times.
Help yourself to a book
and Keep Preserving Your Bloom,
Iris Ruth Pastor

I’m Not Giving Up

I’m not giving up:
         SUGAR
         SALT or
         DIET ORANGE CRUSH SODA

SUGAR can cause weight gain, drops in blood sugar levels, increase my risk for chronic diseases and is addictive.
SALT intake can lead to high blood pressure, heart disease, kidney damage, fluid retention and increased risk of stroke. 
DIET SODA can lead to increased cravings for sweets, disrupt my metabolism, increase my appetite and can lead to an increased risk of cardiovascular disease.

I am still not giving them up.

On the more positive side, I’m not giving up:
         YOGA
         WALKING 10,000 STEPS A DAY or
         PLAYING WORDLE and JACKS

YOGA increases my flexibility, improves my posture and mood, reduces my stress and helps me focus and concentrate.
WALKING 10,000 STEPS A DAY enhances my mood, helps me maintain my weight, increases my energy level and improves my digestion
WORDLE, the word game I play daily, expands my vocabulary, maintains my cognitive skills and improves my memory.  
And playing JACKS keeps my fingers nimble.

I’m not giving up on TESTING even though the number of tests a baby boomer can take is exhausting: 
         GENOME SEQUENCING
         MICROBIOME TESTING OF THE GUT
         or
         ORGAN CLOCKS

GENOME SEQUENCING analyzes my genetic make-up and tailors treatments and medications to suit my specific needs.
MICROBIOME TESTING OF THE GUT is a useful tool for understanding my gut health and implementing interventions to improve my overall well-being.
ORGAN CLOCKS are tests that measure the overall aging of my different organs.

Too much information. 

On the more positive side, I’m not giving up:
         GETTING A POLYGENIC RISK SCORE TEST
         INCREASING MY PROTEIN INTAKE or
         TRACKING MY SLEEP

GETTING A POLYGENIC RISK SCORE TEST basically analyzes my DNA to tell me about my risk for getting common diseases like cancer and Alzheimer’s.
INCREASING MY PROTEIN INTAKE to about 90-100 grams per day will improve my muscle mass.
TRACKING MY SLEEP to be sure I get more deep sleep, which is essential to clearing waste products from the brain.

I’m in.

Also, on the more positive side, I’m not giving up:
         TAKING ADVICE FROM A FAMILY MEMBER
         WEEKLY READING OF THE WSJ’S OFF DUTY SECTION
         FOLLOWNG MY OWN INTUITION

TAKING ADVICE FROM A FAMILY MEMBER, who tells me that now that he realizes how difficult being a parent is, he has forgiven all of his mother’s errors and learned to focus on her massive achievements.
WEEKLY READING OF THE WSJ’S OFF DUTY SECTION, where I learn from over-60 fashion influencers that denim is an “ageless” staple.
Here is part of the accompanying photo:

Notice the jean jacket displayed prominently. (Just like the upcycled jean jackets I sell – shameless plug!!!)
FOLLOWING MY OWN INTUITION and bucking the consensus of the high school reunion committee who nixed a DJ due to so many of our classmates using canes and walkers. So even if we can no longer physically dance, how about renting a Karaoke machine? Why pass up an opportunity to sing with my beloved classmates all those heartfelt Rock ’n Roll songs from the 1960’s – like “My Girl” by The Temptations? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y3KJ7d2qBoA&feature=youtu.be

Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

I Don’t Give Up On People

I don’t give up on people.

I think: 
If only I try harder, she will like me. 
If I just interact with her in a caring way, the caring will be reciprocated.

I take one of her rare positive reactions as a jumping-off point signifying the beginning of a new chapter for our relationship – one of acceptance and mutual affection. And I am always caught off guard when her baseline of indifference and low-level animosity returns in full force. It always surprises me.

I give with lower and lower expectations of a favorable response. And yet, I continue to give.   

I scrutinize my own behavior relentlessly looking for an answer on why I am constantly made to feel irrelevant by this person and why I am constantly aiming to try to change the dynamics between us.

I chafe at feeling undervalued and against logic, once more – go the extra mile. 
I compliment. 
I gift.
I praise.
I smile. 

I hide my pain.

This Mother’s Day, the most valuable gift I am giving myself is 
letting go of this person’s hold on me and 
letting go of my desire for a relationship and friendship. 

I’m re-directing my love and care and affection to people in my life who appreciate me and value me.

I’m concentrating on making myself happy.  
I’m deep breathing.
I’m doing more yoga.
I’m creating a healthy environment for myself. 
I’m investing more in the prolific and deeply satisfying friendships I do have – and feeling immense gratitude for all my buddies who guide me, help me, have my back and nurture me.

And I’m keeping this in mind too: Self-love isn’t vanity – it’s sanity and getting rid of toxic people in our lives is an act of self-love. 

Let’s embrace ourselves and hold close to this message below: 

Happy Mother’s Day and Keep Preserving Your Bloom,

Motherhood: It’s Complicated

Mother’s Day is coming up fast. 
As a mother of five, I’m always searching for the quote I’ve never heard before – the quote that perfectly sums up our complicated feelings regarding Motherhood. 
And for those of us who are always looking for a good quote or two to add a personal touch to a card or gift or bring a smile to that special person’s face, here’s a few to consider:

Mothers never sleep. They just worry lying down with their eyes closed.
Cathy Guisewite, American cartoonist

When I dripped paint on the floor at age 6, mom proclaimed me the next Jackson Pollock.
Natasha Richardson, British actress, on her mother Vanessa Redgrave

Mom is the original juggling act. She makes an octopus look short-handed.
Nancy Taylor Robson, author

A man who has been the indisputable favorite of his mother keeps for life the feeling of a conqueror, that confidence of success that often induces real success.
Sigmund Freud, Austrian neurologist

What my mother believed about cooking is that if you worked hard and prospered, someone else would do it for you.
Nora Ephron, American writer

There never was a child so lovely but his mother was glad to get him asleep.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American essayist

To describe my mother would be to write about a hurricane in its perfect power.
Maya Angelou, American poet

No matter where you go or what you do, your mother will always be behind you …quietly ripping her hair out.
Cathy Guisewite, American cartoonist

My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it.
Mark Twain, American writer

If evolution really works, how come mothers only have two hands?
Milton Berle, comedian

Arthur: “It’s at times like this I wish I’d listened to my mother.”
Ford: “Why, what did she say?”
Arthur: “I don’t know. I never listened.”
Douglas Adams, author of The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy 

My mother said to me, “If you become a soldier, you’ll be a general. If you become a monk, you’ll end up as the pope.“ Instead, I became a painter and wound up as Picasso.
Pablo Picasso, Spanish painter

The price of {a mother} holding down two demanding occupations, one at home and the other away, is high: constant fatigue and overloaded circuits.
Daniel Weingarten, actor

“Have you done your homework?” my mother would ask.
“I’ll do it later.”
“You will do it now, I don’t want you winding up on the third shift {at the local} textile plant.“
I never could figure how failing to read three chapters in my geography book about the various sorts of vegetables to be found in a tropical rain forest had anything to do with facing life as a mill hand. But with enough guilt and fear as catalyst, you can read anything.
Lewis Grizzard, American author

Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother.
A child is a child. They get bigger, older, but grown.
In my heart it don’t mean a thing. 
Toni Morrison, American novelist

The end of the day…usually finds me sitting in the old rocker, shawl over my shoulders…knitting and purling to my heart’s content. I’ve spent hours in therapy warding off the fear that I would eventually turn into my mother. Whoever thought that I’d actually turn into my grandmother?
Ellen Byron, playwright 

A mother is never cocky or proud, because she knows the school principal may call at any minute to report that her child has just driven a motorcycle through the gymnasium.
Mary Kay Blakely, American journalist

No song or poem will bear my mother’s name. Yet so many of the stories that I write, that we all write, are my mother’s stories.
Alice Walker, American writer

An old mother, who had brought up a large family of children with eminent success, was asked by a young one what she would recommend….and her reply was: “I think, my dear, a little wholesome neglect.”
Sir Henry Taylor, English poet

A mother never really leaves her children at home, even when she doesn’t take them along.
Margaret Culkin Banning, American writer

Motherhood means being instantly interruptible, responsive, responsible.
Tillie Olsen, American writer 

Being asked to decide between your passion for your work and your passion for your children was like being asked by your doctor whether you preferred him to remove your heart or your brain.
Mary Kay Blakely, Journalist

The story of a mother’s life: trapped between a scream and a hug.
Cathy Guisewite, American cartoonist

So many women have chosen lives of sweeping contradictions. I remember mentioning the babysitter in a column once and receiving outraged letters from readers who could not understand how anyone who could write feelingly of her children would hire help with their care. When did these people think I was writing? In the checkout line at the supermarket?
Anna Quindlen, American columnist 

And Keep Preserving Your Bloom,