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  1. Zen in a Body

    May 15, 2021 by Diane

    Image by Ralf Designs from Pixabay 

    All this sheltering-in-place has made some of us soft and flabby. Now that we’re taking off our masks, we’re also sucking in our guts.

    It’s all those snacks we ate out of boredom or anxiety or to lift our sagging spirits. All those microwaved meals scarfed down in front of the TV because we were burned out working from home or playing teacher for our kids. It’s the lack of gym access, or lack of motivation to get off our duffs and do some squats and planks and brisk walks, that has morphed us into something doughy.

    And don’t get me started with cable news. We may have gorged on that, too, digesting angry words from talking heads who spouted their opinions over the airwaves. Poison to the brain.

    After digesting these poisons, we might have loaded up on supplements to keep us out of doctor’s offices. Pills for heart health and brain health, pills to keep our joints mobile and our hormones balanced. We may have even reached for Zen in a bottle, when all we really needed was to turn off the television and get moving.

    Others among us managed to resist the lure of treats and television, opting instead to ride a bicycle, walk the neighborhood and climb actual or metaphorical mountains. These more adventurous souls braved the Farmers’ Market, prepared their nutritionally dense food while classical music wafted over the airways, and ate their meals seated by a window with a garden view. You’ve seen these people. They radiate calm, as if lit from a candle within. Zen in a body. Maybe you’re one of them.

    I strive to be like that. While my landlady chows down in front of the television watching her angry television shows and I’m in the kitchen preparing my dinner, I strive hard to remain calm. Sometimes I succeed. I hum uplifting tunes to drown out the angry voices. Or I quietly close the door between the rooms.

    Other times, I find my blood pressure rising, my heart rate accelerating, my stomach muscles clenching and I’m chopping my vegetables a little too harshly, banging the pots and pans a little too loudly. When she cranks up the volume on the divisive rhetoric, I find myself trumpeting my own opinions from the peanut gallery.

    I can choose not to be in the kitchen. In my own room in my cottage I can eat muesli and fruit from my Japanese bowl, drink Tulsi tea from my palm-sized cup. I can fortify my softer self with something that doesn’t require kitchen use. Bite-sized brownies, for instance. After all, my landlady has a right to her entertainment choices.

    Although, when I glance at her thirty bottles of supplements lining the counter—including the bottle of Zen—I want to offer my advice. Turn off the TV.

    Instead, I retreat to my cottage to eat in peace. I tune into soothing music rather than the news. I make an effort to start the day with a meditation and end the day with inspirational texts, and in between, walk in nature. If I succeed fifty percent of the time, I try not to scold myself for the other fifty. I can’t change my landlady’s behavior to suit my comfort levels. All I can do is try to be an example of what I’d like to see reflected in other people. 

    You may have seen the bumper-sticker version of Gandhi’s quote: “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

    What Gandhi actually said is: “We but mirror the world. All the tendencies present in the outer world are to be found in the world of our body. If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a man changes his own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards him. This is the divine mystery supreme. A wonderful thing it is and the source of our happiness. We need not wait to see what others do.” 

    I can let my anger fuel me into trying to change my corner of the world. Or I can be the candle burning brightly. To preserve my health and sanity, I choose to be the candle, to start by changing the world within. 


  2. I’m Famous. You Might as Well Know the Truth.

    July 28, 2019 by Diane

    This week, I was featured on WriterCEO.com, a website which offers inspirational interviews from professional writers who share their secrets to success. Why me?

    Because I actually make money as a writer.

    I know, right?

    If you’re curious about how this miracle came to be and exactly what I do when I’m not blogging about the nutty stuff that drives me nutty, or if you’d like a bit of sage writing advice from a hack like me, then I urge you, nay, implore you, to visit the site and read my interview by clicking here. And please leave a comment!

    WriterCEO.com is the brainchild of the wonderful Colleen M Story. In addition to the weekly interviews featured on her site, Colleen also writes about writing and wellness, which you’ll find a link to here. And she wrote two terrific books: Writer Get Noticed!, and Overwhelmed Writer Rescue, the latter of which was probably written for me. Because, you know, I’m famous.

    So, what are you waiting for? Skedaddle on over, peel back the writer’s curtain and unlock the mystery behind my disguise. And if you know a budding author eager to make a career with words, direct them to the site so they can poke around and learn from some of the pros.


  3. Have Internet, Will Time Travel

    July 7, 2019 by Diane

    Do you talk to yourself out loud? Loud enough for others to hear?

    Maybe it’s the result of getting older, but occasionally I mumble to myself. It’s as if my brain is so full, to make room the excess thoughts need to come out somewhere. Or it helps me remember something if I hear it spoken. Or the sound of my voice is soothing.

    My landlady, who’s older than me, talks to herself constantly. She mutters when she takes out the recycling, spouts monologues as she waters the garden, argues as she heads to the grocery store, jaw jutting forward. “Are you talking to me?” I’ll ask. But no, it’s herself she’s talking to. And she always sounds pissed.

    If you’re going to talk to yourself, at least be kind.

    What if you could talk to your future self? And what if, in the future, those words arrive?

    They can.

    It happened to me.

    I wrote myself an email in 2018. Last week, it arrived in my in-box.

    This reminds me of the movie Frequency. It’s about a father living in 1969 who, through a freakish weather event, is able to communicate to his son 30 years in the future via ham radio. Together, they solve a decades-old serial murder case. If you haven’t seen it, do. It’s fantastic.

    Rather than people traveling through time, in the movie, it’s information that’s traveling.

    Just like my email. Although I’m not solving any murders.

    How did I pull off such a feat?

    Through a website called FutureMe.org.

    On the site, you compose an email to yourself, choose a date in the future for it to arrive, and click “send to the future!” It doesn’t cost a dime. No need to create a login. Just type in your message, select a date, and send it on its way.

    Think of the possibilities!

    Newlyweds, on the day of their wedding, can compose messages to their future selves about how they doubted whether they made the right choice, saying: “Aren’t you glad you didn’t let doubts get in the way?” Worrywarts can list everything that plagues them, finishing up with: “I’m so grateful you rose to the challenge, and it’s all behind you now.” A struggling artist can praise their future self for finishing a project, and ask for guidance.

    Go ahead, try it.

    Here’s what I wrote:

    Dear FutureMe,

    I love you.

    I don’t say it enough, but I love you!

    I love that you got a new job.

    I love that you’re putting your fiction first.

    I love that you’re exploring the possibility that copywriting might not be the path you want to take, but you’re open to taking it anyway to see where it leads.

    Here’s what I hope for you:

    I hope you set boundaries with people, so they know that you deserve respect and breathing room and the opportunity to learn from your mistakes.

    I hope you allow yourself to make those mistakes, and that you love yourself anyway.

    I hope you strive to maintain balance between work and what your heart longs to do, between what your heart longs to do and play, between play and rest, between rest and physical movement, between physical movement and reflection.

    I hope you say I love you to the people who matter most in your life, and that you allow them the space to work, play, rest, be active, reflect, make mistakes, and do what their heart longs to do.

    Forever at your side,

    Diane