A yogini at large

BLOG 172

Sept. 14,2026

“We are creatures of habit, so if we invite changes to break our habits, that is very helpful.”

Swami Sivananda Radha Time to be Holy

The above statement sounds simple enough, but what was surprising about it was the context in which Swami Radha used it. In her chapter on Fear, she cites different kinds of fear, as any dictionary will agree, and, while we may conquer a particular fear, there are many other, subtle ways that fear keeps one from achieving goals that another part of our being would like to accomplish, or at least attempt.

I have been delving into information on fear and vulnerability (next attempt will be hypnosis) because I’m lacking the confidence to ride my road bike on anything that isn’t straight, wide and has next to no traffic. Anyone who has ever visited West Vancouver will tell you what an impossibility that is, unless I want to limit my riding to laps between Park Royal and back. You’ll note that “limit” is the operative word. The more fears I give in to, the fewer options I have.

So what to do? An obvious answer might be to “feel the fear and do it anyway”. For me, the suggestion that I can’t do something is a prime motivator. At the staff picnic on Saturday I was asked if I still drove a car, and if so, why didn’t I want to drive the ‘53 Buick that my husband took to the picnic. I was so insulted that I asked Jim to video me driving this classic vehicle the very next morning. (On a wide, flat road with very little traffic!) baby steps.

We’ve all heard the expression “don’t get angry, get even”, but in fact my anger (or hurt pride) was the motivator I used to get over the fear of damaging a collector car. Daring myself to do something works almost as well. After my hip surgery I dared myself to ride the bike leg of the Lavaman triathlon, or sell my precious bike, and thereby alleviated my fear of biking on the busy Queen K highway. Now, conquering my fear of the narrow, winding, hilly roads in West Vancouver is going to require some serious motivational ammo.

This reminds me of a quote a friend offered recently: “I used to procrastinate; now I just don’t do it.”

When does one say “Uncle” and just give up? I’m taking my cue from the little hummingbird that visited our garden moments ago. This little guy showed up not long ago and was promptly chased off by the bigger hummingbird whose turf our container garden seems to be. Now our tiny feathered interloper waits until the bigger bird has fed and left before it swoops in undetected. I can do that too. Pick a time of day when the cars and other bikers have left, or not yet arrived, and do small sections of the ride. The old elephant in the room strategy, taking it one bite at a time.

Or just not do it.

BLOG 171

Sept. 7, 2026

“…when the monkey mind becomes greedy, then that part we call the inner Self, the soul, becomes sad because it has lost contact with us. When that contact is lost, we go into moods where nothing is right, everything is wrong, life is miserable, and we have a string of complaints. We know that these complaints have little truth. Sometimes we throw them outward just as a relief from the imagined pressure created by self-importance, which also comes from the monkey mind.“

(Swami Sivananda Radha Time to be Holy)

Summer has flown by and I risk sinking into melancholy at the thought of winter rains, which seemed to be starting last week in Whistler. Today the sky is clear, though hazy in places, and it looks to be a decent late summer day. The latter might also describe my state of mind, clear but hazy in places.

Last week, after receiving some unexpected tests results, I witnessed my monkey mind running all over the place with thoughts of mortality, of unfinished business and unmet potentials, all of which had little truth but which effectively derailed all thoughts of blogging.

I realized that I am often saddened or depressed by such unfiltered thoughts. Most of them tell me I’m not good enough, not doing enough with my skills and potentials, not the life of the party or even invited to the party!

I vaguely remembered a technique for dealing with the monkey mind that life coach Byron Katie described in her book The Work, which also sounds a lot like Eckhart Tollé’s teachings in Be Here Now, and revolves around challenging one’s thoughts with four simple questions:

—Is it true?
—Can you absolutely know that it’s true?
—How do you react when you believe that thought?
—Who would you be without the thought?

I pondered what these questions might tell me about the state of my inner Self, and the degree to which I may or may not have lost contact with my soul. What would sadness tell me if I considered it an expression of my inner Self?

F. Scott Peck emphasized that “genuine love, transcending neediness, fosters the self-acceptance vital for nurturing others’ (and I should think one’s own) spiritual progress”. It occurs to me that so much of my emotional experience hinges on self-acceptance, on whether OR NOT I believe the cynicism and negativity that too easily pervade my mind. It’s not a question of digging down to how, where or why these unhelpful habits of mind come from so much as it behooves me to watch my mind more carefully, and proactively weed out what no longer serves me (if it ever did).

So how do I do that? Journaling helps. It puts words to paper (or, to iPad, in my case) so that I can step back and regard the thoughts more objectively. This is where Byron Katie’s questions come in handy. By recording my answers in my journal I create a frame of reference with which to compare my future progress. But it won’t help to ask such questions if my answers come from my monkey mind.

In order for my answers to be more authentic or heartfelt I need some way to create a neutral, meditative inner space. (Swimming works a treat for me). But there are many tools available for stilling the mind: breath work being most convenient. Several minutes of calming the breath, by slowly inhaling to the count of four and exhaling to a count of six or more, can effectively calm the mind. If thoughts flood in, we are instructed to just let them float by, noting how insubstantial and temporary they can be.

Sometimes repetition of a centering word like Aum, or phrase such as “all is well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well”, can aid concentration, as can chanting a mantra for peace or healing, and can make one less susceptible to distracting images or ideas.

I sometimes lament “why me?” when confronted with the work needed to clear my inner skies, to generate peace and serenity when those unwelcome clouds try to interfere. The short answer is: I’m the one who benefits most from it! But as Peck insists, if I can’t transcend selfishness and neediness, if I can’t accept myself with patience, tolerance, compassion and love, I’ll be no help to myself or anyone else. It’s no surprise, then, that “Life is difficult” is the first line of M. Scott Peck’s The Road Less Traveled. That it’s hard work at times cannot be argued, but as anyone who does the work knows, the rewards far outweigh the effort.

Hence the stash of Justin’s Organic Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter cups I keep on hand wherever I am (even in my carry-on bag). Accept no substitutions!

THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED

BLOG 170

“In The Road Less Traveled”, M. Scott Peck offers a thought-provoking look at human growth and spiritual development. He contends that embracing discipline—delaying gratification, accepting responsibility, and pursuing truth—is key to solving the challenges that lead to genuine growth. Yet discipline alone is not enough; Peck emphasizes that genuine love, transcending neediness, fosters the self-acceptance vital for nurturing others’ spiritual progress.

(M. Scott Peck The Road Less Traveled)

The other week I was stymied when the theme for my blog about manifesting what I wanted in life ran afoul of Buddhist teachings. It was also refuted by my life experience, i.e. despite my best intentions, a bear wiped out my hummingbird feeder. There was nothing for it but to dive a little deeper into the Buddha’s teachings on the cause of suffering.

“The Buddha taught that life involves dukkha—a Pali word usually translated as “suffering,” but which also means unsatisfactoriness, impermanence, or a deep sense that things are incomplete. This concept forms the core of his Four Noble Truths, which explain why we struggle and how we can find peace.” (AI Overview)

I had forgotten so much of the Buddha’s advice as to feel like I’d made a major discovery when I revisited his teachings on dukkha, a Pali word generally translated as suffering. Yes, I recalled that attachment to pleasurable things/experiences, and the aversion to unpleasantness/disappointment were cited as the cause of suffering, but I hadn’t registered the subtlety with which these cravings pervaded my life.

What gave me pause was the expanded definition of suffering, “which also means unsatisfactoriness, impermanence, or a deep sense that things are incomplete”.

This came as a big AHA! moment because I’d just had a conversation with a friend about this sense of dissatisfaction and/or incompleteness. I had even expressed the idea that one can try to appease this nagging voice that claims something is missing (if one even has a clue what it wants), or somehow tell it to JUST. SHUT. UP.

Little did I know that the latter was not only a distinct possibility, but also the key to ending the patterns and habits that heretofore have been the cause of many, if not all of my problems! I can hardly describe the feeling of elation that this insight gave me. Not only did I better understand the nature of suffering, but in the Buddha’s “noble eightfold path”was given a roadmap to freedom from a lifetime of serving the wrong master, my ego and its cravings.

Back to the internet, I read: “the Law of Attraction amplifies the ego and increases attachment, whereas Buddhism teaches radical letting go and the realization of emptiness.”

In our conversation the other day my friend and I had been skirting around this emptiness, this lack of things to do, places to go, or people to meet. The avoidance of this emptiness could even be disguised as a sense of purpose, but which could more realistically be seen as the avoidance of loneliness, solitude, or ambiguity.

Pema Chödrön, an eminent Buddhist teacher offers this:

“Cool loneliness allows us to look honestly and without aggression at our own minds. We can gradually drop our ideals of who we think we ought to be, or who we think we want to be, or who we think other people think we want to be or ought to be. We give it up and just look directly with compassion and humor at who we are. Then loneliness is no threat and heartache, no punishment.”

In the process of learning to transcend my ego, I need the courage to sit with the uncomfortable feelings of unsatisfactoriness, impermanence, or the sense that things are incomplete. I’m learning give up on the idea that I might in some way fix or change things in order to find peace of mind, to chase discomfort away. The trick is to find peace of mind in the thick of my own racing thoughts and conflicting cravings. I can develop the mental disciplines of mindfulness and meditation to steer me along the noble eightfold path, which happens to be anathema to the law of attraction.

No wonder it’s called the road less traveled!

“In any war, in any country, innocent and powerless people are sacrificed to the power structures. When you turn to the Light and try to attract the Light, you have to realize also that where there is a lot of Light there can be a lot of shadow. The sun is not in the zenith for very long.”

(Swami Sivananda Radha Time to be Holy)

This morning, as I watched the local hummingbird zip in and out of our hyssop flowers, (also known as hummingbird mint) I was reminded of the time we hung a large hummingbird feeder from a tree branch in Whistler. In no time at all a bear tore it down and made short work of whatever was in it, irreparably damaging the feeder while he or she was at it.

There should be some take-away from that little incident, aside from the obvious lesson not to hang hummingbird feeders in bear country, because it rather refutes my theme for today’s blog, which centered on how “like attracts like” or “as we sow, so shall we reap”.

We planted hyssop and scarlet sage to attract hummingbirds to our deck in West Vancouver, and at least in that we succeeded. Most days I get a fleeting glimpse of the tiny bird which, spiritually speaking, is said to symbolize “joy, resilience, and the sweetness of life. Because of its incredible speed, ability to hover, and vibrant energy, it is widely viewed as an uplifting messenger of hope, emotional renewal, and a gentle connection to the spiritual realm.” (AI Overview)

Instead, I’m apparently being given the message that no good deed goes unpunished. Attempt to feed hummingbirds and you might attract other bad-mannered honey predators. Thus derailed from my original theme, (hence no blog this past week) I sat on the topic for a few more days, reluctant to give up on what I thought to be a good idea, but aware that I had been focusing on only one side of a topic that might be more meaningful if I explored the idea that, as Swami Radha said, where there’s a lot of light there can also be a lot of shadow.

How to reconcile that truth with my original idea, also true, that by visualizing and in some way enacting (e.g. planting hyssop), we attract what we want more of in our lives?

The main message of James Allen’s 1903 classic As a Man Thinketh is that “your thoughts shape your life, character, and destiny. What you think internally directly creates your external circumstances, meaning you must take total responsibility for your mental state if you wish to change your experience of the world that surrounds you”. He describes mind as a garden; you can tend it with good thoughts or let bad weeds grow. By that logic, I’m the arbiter of my experience, whether good or bad, including how I interpret the experience of having a bear destroy my bird feeder.

Likewise, however I frame life events/experiences is where the real power lies. Too often I take an undesirable outcome and label it “bad”, e.g. label a hungry bear as a bad-mannered honey predator. I think most of us are quite capable of ascribing good outcomes to some effort we have made, singularly or in cooperation with other people, and carrying forward positive thoughts/associations until someone or something disrupts the ideal trajectory.

The greater challenge is therefore flipping negative outcomes/interpretations into their opposite. It needn’t even be a matter of extremes.

How often during the day do I run into some obstacle or complication and make the effort to see it as a challenge to overcome, or as an opportunity for something entirely different to happen? To me that requires true creativity, the imagination and resilience to turn lemons into lemonade.

To make lemonade palatable one generally needs to add some kind of sweetener. Could a sense of gratitude be that mental sweetener? Having the humility to count one’s blessings while simultaneously failing to realize a goal, ideal or dream? Having managed to do that the odd time, I can vouch for it being a very satisfying feeling.

And when I can’t see the silver lining, I can resort to black humour as a backup plan:

“If at first you don’t succeed, skydiving is not for you.” — Steven Wright.

I

BLOG 168

“Now I know, and knowing is half the battle.”
(G.I.Joe)

Garrison Keillor, an American author and entertainer, possessed of many talents, posts a humorous online letter that takes frequent potshots at Donald Trump, whom he has nicknamed The Occupant, in examples such as the below:

“Ours is a country with a great tradition of eccentrics and wackos from Robert Johnson who sold his soul to the devil and Carry Nation with her tavern-busting hatchet and the man who wrote a book with no punctuation and Hetty Green the Witch of Wall Street and the freak-show man P.T. Barnum down to our Current Occupant fascinated by tariffs and vengeance and putting his name on things and his Secretary of War and his Secretary of Health opposed to vaccination, etcetera and so forth.”

It’s not obvious that The Donald is aware of or in any way chastened by these unflattering quips about his eccentricities, nor is any inner part of me motivated to change when I speak to or of myself equally disparagingly.

I don’t know what specific influences, nature and/or nurture, shaped Mr. Trump, (aka POTUS, aka The Current Occupant), but I suspect he is ruled by an inner script such as Swami Radha talks about in her chapter on Evolution and Maya, and which has stayed in my thoughts as I contemplated this week’s blog.

She writes:

"You want to survive also in your own mind, in your own judgement, in your own criticism. The idea in your mind of what you should be is a very complicated thing in itself. That you should be beautiful, intelligent, wise, six feet tall, have this nose or that colour of hair, these are all very primitive ideas, but they are very, very powerful. You want to survive in your own mind, and your own mind sets the criteria by which you want to survive. That’s a very dangerous trap. It makes difficulties and creates a lot of absolutely unnecessary pain.”

You might have noticed that I have in past blogs referred to my inner “maniacal room mate”, a term I gleaned from Michael Singer’s Untethered Soul, to describe the part of me, a personality aspect, if you will, on which I place the blame for my less-evolved thoughts and behaviors. But as recently as this morning’s reading in Swami Radhananda’s Living The Practice, I began to see how this habit of self-disparagement may not be serving me. She writes:

“We believe in a life-story. Taking the threads of our days and weaving the dreams and dramas and images together, we build this story. But what is real?”

She continues as follows:

“The mind has a tendency to hold onto stories. Emotions and emotional words are the glue that keeps us stuck and contaminates relationships, careers and personal growth. Released from emotional interpretation, the mind can change itself, allowing you to mature as you use different language to describe yourself and your life. When we can reflect, tell stories, use our voice and ask questions, we can move away from old habits of speech that are emotionally embedded in the present, and insert a new vocabulary that more clearly embodies who we are.”

And who we want to be.

I realized that the labels or names I have frequently given myself must have had their beginnings in some incident or conditioning — a version of Eve being evicted from Eden — that I believed, and embedded in my self-image up to the present. If it is true that my mind sets the criteria by which I want to survive, how else might I change that criteria than by “day-lighting” whatever old story I’m currently “buying”?

Journaling is a good way to unearth these old scripts. By recording something from the past or present that has affected you emotionally, you can stand back, reread and observe your version of events in the third person, as if they happened to someone else. From this more detached stance you can ask clarifying questions: “Is this the absolute truth, or is there room for reinterpretation? Deeper investigation? If the latter, what else could have been meant, intended? In what way might I have precipitated this situation? What preconceived beliefs/ideas might have influenced my interpretation, and how can I change or update old misinformation?” And so on…

This can also be guided by using Swami Radha’s dream method and analyzing a real-life situation as a dream. The point being that we cannot hope to learn and grow from our experiences unless we can achieve some detachment from our ingrained stories, and objectively observe the observer. We have to use the mind to study the mind, and not shy away from what the light of greater clarity and self-awareness reveals.

So the message to my current mental occupant is, to paraphrase Socrates (or GI Joe): “self-wisdom begins when I realize I don’t know what I think I know.” But I’m always willing to find out.

PS Due to a change in the way this blog is disseminated, I no longer know how to send private messages to my blog Ohana. Yet another thing for YouTube to know and me to find out. 🤔

Blog 167

“It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
(William Ernest Henley, excerpt from “Invictus”)

“The purpose of life can only be participation in our own evolution, which we can do consciously. When we do this consciously we experience much less pain. Of course it takes time. When you make the decision, everything does not just drop away. Any teacher can only point the way and offer a map of how to get there. But the map itself is not the way, which is often forgotten.” (Swami Sivananda Radha, Time to be Holy)

I left the ashram community a dozen years ago, after it being a major focus for over two decades. The break was clear and final. I’ve never been back. But in another sense, and an important one, I’ve never left. I never left the teachings behind because I believed then, as I do now, that the purpose of life is to consciously cooperate with my evolution. When we were displaced from Alberta in the early 80s, I floundered to make sense of the unprecedented changes in our circumstances. Taking a deep dive into the Kundalini system of Vedanta Yoga, I was able to see purpose in the many shifts and losses we experienced in those early years of raising a family, and thereby re-established my priorities accordingly.

For whatever reason, flashbacks from those vulnerable times have been revisiting me recently, and with them, reminders of how my inner journey started close to four decades ago, when I was introduced to the works of Swami Sivananda Radha Saraswati. Swami Radha described her book Kundalini Yoga for the West as a “foundation for character building, courage and awareness”. And indeed it has been the basis for a lifetime of self-study, of being my own laboratory, that I’m now appreciating more and more each day, as questions of meaning and purpose arise more frequently, or perhaps more urgently.

I’m aware that I can bump along for months without taking a long view of my time spent on planet earth. Though I claim to be leading an examined life, I occupy much of my waking hours with the business of self-maintenance, homemaking, socializing, eating, exercising, getting and spending (as Wordsworth would say) without a clear sense of what I’m trying to achieve. Sometimes an injury presses pause on this rota of activity. Or a few bleak days of rain and gray, such as we’ve been experiencing lately, prompting me to pass the time rereading several-years-old-journal entries in search of inspiration. Which is how I came up with today’s quote from Swami Radha, recorded on February 22, 2022. (I think a numerologist might have something interesting to say about the date).

At any rate, my search netted a reminder that I do have a purpose, beyond all the seemingly more superficial (though necessary) ways that I occupy my time. But this purpose is not the search for a pre-existing, one-size-fits-all meaning that I once thought it was. That would be, as Swami Radha cautioned against, confusing the map with the destination. Author and therapist Eric Maisel advises moving away from the role (that I assumed for much of my time at the ashram) of a passive “meaning seeker” and stepping into the role of a deliberate “meaning maker”.

“He teaches that meaning is an evergreen, renewable resource that naturally fluctuates, requiring individuals to construct purpose through daily engagement, values, and creative acts.” (AI Overview)

In other words, the responsibility for living a “purpose-full” life falls to me. I am indeed the master of my fate, and the captain of my soul.

As are you, of yours.

ADAPTABILITY

BLOG 167
July 18, 2026

KINDNESS, HOPE, POSITIVITY (OOPS) POSSIBILITIES!

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.”
(Alexander Graham Bell)

On July 18 I wrote in my journal:

“I have to write a blog about the ability to adapt, because I suck at it.”

Here’s why. On Thursday a member of the company’s IT team did me the great favor of coming over to West Van to set up my new iPhone. In the process I unearthed the new iPad version that I was given months ago and ignored because the only thing it did differently, as far as I could see, was require a different charging cable. The kind I could never seem to find. I resented all this new technology that was dragging my block-of-concrete-feet into the “next generation”. I felt played by the gods/demons of progress. So I went from an IPhone 13 to a 17. New cable and all.

And then I lost it. Literally and figuratively. Couldn’t find my new phone anywhere, despite the “FindMy” app indicating that it was at my exact address. As I ran around in progressively agitated circles, it was my saintly husband who figured out where it had to be, in my car, five floors below me, in the parkade of our building.

Needless to say, my positivity journal, (which I realized in retrospect was supposed to be a possibility journal, in line with the Chautauqua lifestyle blurb I included in the last blog) wasn’t very positive that evening. Or bursting with possibilities, except maybe finding ways I could permanently dispose of all my technology. And perhaps move to the Falklands. Or some as yet undiscovered/unmodernized tribe in the Amazonian jungle.

But time passed, and once I’d simmered down, I continued pondering ways to bring kindness, hope and possibility/positivity to my surroundings. Enter a juvenile crow that got trapped on our balcony, for lack of the wits to turn around and see the endless escape routes right behind it. It had indeed been thusly “trapped” for a couple of days, we realized, and that the loud ruckus of swooping and darting crows nearby had been created by its frantic parents.

By the time we spotted it, it was banging futilely against the glass railing of the balcony and had badly frayed its tail feathers from rebounding onto the deck. As best we could, we moved any furniture blocking it from seeing its route to freedom, even creating a makeshift ramp it might launch from, while a small battalion of its friends and relatives squawked and swooped in their defensive manœuvres.

Finally I had the bright idea to scoop it up with a broom and lever it over the railing. Jim gently wielded the broom and in seconds we’d liberated our otherwise annoying and unwelcome feathered “friend”. If the latter adjectives weren’t clear enough, let me state for the record: we don’t like crows. Not at all. I once broke a glass panel of our railing by throwing a rock at one particularly cheeky nuisance. But who can resist a shot at heroism?

In one fell swoop we had lived up to the Chautauqua motto of kindness, hope, and possibility. A teenaged crow had lived to fly another day, battered tail feathers and all. And I was reminded, as per Alexander Graham Bell, or another, proactive variation that AI offered on the same topic:

“When one door closes, find another. And what if there isn’t another door? Then you try a window. And what if there’s not a window? Then you find a sledgehammer and make a window.”

Aum Namah Sivayah

July 15, 2026

“This is a place where life feels full of kindness, hope and possibilities; a place where we remember how to slow down and engage. We invite you to experience the incredibly unique Chautauqua lifestyle and achieve your highest potential.” (Chautauqua Institution)

I started this week’s blog with the above quote, and wish below:

“Kindness, hope and possibilities are all things I wish for myself, and the world, on this my 76th birthday. While there is more to say, it’s now past my bed time. So I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow. Inshallah.”

Wednesday

It might’ve been somewhat naive of me to think I could concentrate on blogging on a travel day, aka Tuesday, though it called for little more exertion than getting up and down from an airplane. Though a previous two day lay-over in San Francisco, fitting in an early Tuesday swim (and thereby missing breakfast), hastily re-packing, and finally, trekking through the thousands of miles of airport hallways at YVR that evening, do qualify as demanding of energy. Whew!

Happily, our bags and ourselves made it home in one piece, and what remains today are the positive feelings generated by all the well-wishes I received from a community that echoes the proffered lifestyle at Chautauqua (from whence my brother’s greeting came). As I savor these heartwarming feelings I can’t help wondering how much of my self-esteem hinges on what I habitually imagine others are thinking or saying about me. Is it normal to assume the worst when it comes to one’s self perception? Is that what prompts the strenuous efforts one makes to be liked and accepted? Maybe even admired and respected?

Swami Radha writes about this tendency in her chapter on Evolution and Maya:

“That desire to survive is why you try to please, why you are “nice.” You want to be accepted. You want to be heard. You want to be listened to. You want your remarks and contributions to be appreciated. To achieve that, you will go through many complicated mental-emotional dances.

“But that kind of survival in the family, in business or in a group of friends is not satisfying. You want to survive also in your own mind, in your own judgement, in your own criticism. The idea in your mind of what you should be is a very complicated thing in itself. That you should be beautiful, intelligent, wise, six feet tall, have this nose or that colour of hair, these are all very primitive ideas, but they are very, very powerful.”

While browsing at an airport bookstore I spotted a title à propos of Swami Radha’s comments: “Don’t Believe Everything You Think”. Once we start to believe what we think, however negative/erroneous it might be, we create a self-fulfilling prophesy and generally perpetuate our own misery. A closed loop if ever there was one.

So, along with other Blue Zones adaptations I’m bringing into my 76th year lifestyle, I’m determined to keep a positivity journal, making a daily note of the good things I experience, and finding creative ways to perpetuate positivity.

Aum Namah Sivayah

BLOG 166

July 13, 2026

“This is a place where life feels full of kindness, hope and possibilities; a place where we remember how to slow down and engage. We invite you to experience the incredibly unique Chautauqua lifestyle and achieve your highest potential.” (Chautauqua Institution)

Kindness, hope and possibilities are all things I wish for myself, and the world, on this my 76th birthday. While there is more to say, it’s now past my bed time. So I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow. Inshallah.

July 5, 2026

ONE OF A KIND

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” — Dr. Seuss

There’s a part of me that is procrastinating on today’s relatively arbitrary tasks, such as planting the last three pineapple keikis, taking the compost up to feed the chickens, getting my swim in before dinner. And finishing my blog. While I’m procrastinating on all the aforementioned tasks, I get up intending to rinse out my smootie cup and buy some avocados.

So, after procuring three avocados, two baking potatoes and a small bag of truffle chips 😜 (the only kind they had) I’ve set my alarm for exactly two hours in which to continue this magnum opus of a blog post.

I think I’m still partially in a food coma (in a partial food coma?) after indulging in too much 4th of July fare at the annual over-the-top dinner buffet. And possibly the free-flowing champagne. I overheard a friend saying in the locker room yesterday morning, “I have a date with a foot-long hotdog and a brew”, referring to lunch at the family field day, and it struck me as something Mae West might say. Without the raunchy overtones that made her famous.

Fast fact: by 1935 West was the highest paid female actress in the U.S., and the second highest paid American, next to William Randolph Hearst.

Thoughts of overindulging in general, and Mae West in particular, segue into what my personalized blue zones project is suggesting to me: embrace your uniqueness, your individuality. To the point of capitalizing on your flaws. “Instead of hiding quirks or physical traits that didn’t fit the rigid societal norms of her era, West leaned into them. She famously instructed, “Cultivate your curves — they may be dangerous but they won’t be avoided.” She refused to dilute her bold personality, stating, “I’m my own original creation.” (AI Overview)

To me that’s all part of the creative process. I can’t count how many arts and craft projects (or even recipes) I’ve salvaged by leaning into irreversible “mistakes”, often pulling off a one-of-a-kind “masterpiece”.

Think about it. What’s something you least like and therefore least value/appreciate about yourself? One of my regrettable flaws might be what our kids call my verbal Tourette’s. My habit of speaking without thinking. Easily one of the hardest things to take back is the spoken word, sometimes intended to be funny but falling flat, or being meant privately but, regrettably, overheard. How would it feel to give oneself a “get out of jail free” card after making such an embarrassing faux pas? And not censure oneself forever thereafter. I’m not advocating being crude and unmannerly, or disregarding others’ feelings, just being less hung up one what other people think, or on meeting some arbitrary social criteria. Less with-holding of my spontaneous comments lest they cause offense.

I once won a trophy for “best line” in a theatre improv show in which I was pulled from the audience to participate in an unrehearsed skit. When the flustered “secretary” asked what it would take to buy my silence about her inter-office affair, I popped up with: “I’ll take that mickey you’ve got hidden in your bottom-left-hand drawer” to peals of laughter from an audience who hadn’t anticipated such a crack coming from a “little old gray-haired lady”. There might’ve been some nepotism involved, our son was part of the regular cast, but still…a high moment that I remember to this day. (As I recall, the trophy was a repurposed junior league baseball, or amateur golf trophy, but that didn’t diminish my sense of accomplishment).

I guess what I’m saying is that we can’t take ourselves too seriously, or hew too closely to whatever conditioning tells us to mind our p’s and q’s. Whatever that means. In both junior and high school I had a major rebellious streak, and am beginning to like that iteration of myself better than the stodgy perfectionist I later held up as my role model. The fact that “the rebel” would never have been accepted in university in this competitive age, having eschewed math, history, and any form of authority, she did have some uniquely colorful things to say. So I’ve decided to include a little more Mae West and a little less Emily Post in my vocabulary, (if not in my actions). Anyway, with all the scandalous behaviors being tolerated on the world stage these days, Mae West seems anachronistically tame.

P.S. It is seven minutes before my alarm goes off and I’ve already got a draft blog. Heigh ho, heigh ho, to the pool I go! In seven minutes.