Category: Guest Bloggers

When a cat lies in it’s back and exposes its soft underbelly that is a sign of trust. The cat is in a position of vulnerability by an attacker. In order for it to expose that part of itself it must feel totally safe and not threatened by its surroundings.

I recently read a study that concluded we humans are losing our ability to interpret social cues and body language. We are becoming increasingly distracted by technology, communicating via social media such as Twitter and Facebook. In doing so, we are literally rewiring our brains.

When my husband had a massive stroke in 1996, he was left with severe expressive and receptive aphasia. What that means is, he was unable to understand language or speak coherently. He lost his reading comprehension as well. During his recovery time, we had to rely on other means of communication. The same holds true to those who have small children, and sometimes it holds true if we have elderly parents. They are unable to effectively communicate verbally, so we need to be more in tune with those other signals.

Most of us can tell if someone has a strained look on their face that they’ve had a bad day. Raised shoulders mean they are carrying stress. A slumped, deflated posture can be a sign of defeat or fatigue. Fast speech or rapid hand movements signal excitement or unease.

How sad if, in our race to Tweet real-time or immediately race to post photos, we lose the subtle art of wordless conversation.

How do we define success? Not many of us would argue that the wealthiest among us have achieved financial success. The term “successful business man” has been around much longer than the name Donald Trump, “successful actor” longer than the name Tom Hanks. Oprah Winfey is, by all accounts, one of the most successful women in America.

What about the single mother who works two jobs and is raising well-mannered, respectful children? What about the urban teenager who, contrary to stereotype, somehow manages to avoid trouble, graduate from high school and land a job as a custodian? Is the mechanic who works long hours to provide for his or her family a success? What about the person who beats addiction? Are the men who, in spite of all kinds of nasty weather, collect our trash from the curb considered successful? Is the father who has to rely on food stamps to help feed his family a success because his children have food in their bellies? How about that 300-pound woman who finally manages to walk around the block? The agoraphobic who steps outside of their home and walks to the mailbox?

Are we considered a success only if we win, or are we successful if we have the guts to at least try?

Last week I was chatting with the gal who was mixing my paint at the home improvement store. She said that she’s noticed something rather interesting. It seems that the younger customers tend to buy more neutral colors, while middle aged and older customers buy bolder colors. We wondered if that is because the younger folks are thinking of selling their homes and the older ones are settled. Or is it because when we hit middle age we stop caring what others think and start to do what WE like, especially in our own homes?Last week I was chatting with the gal who was mixing my paint at the home improvement store. She said that she’s noticed something rather interesting. It seems that the younger customers tend to buy more neutral colors, while middle aged and older customers buy bolder colors. We wondered if that is because the younger folks are thinking of selling their homes and the older ones are settled. Or is it because when we hit middle age we stop caring what others think and start to do what WE like, especially in our own homes?

Last summer my husband and I finally demolished our “charmingly retro”  (outdated, ugly, Partridge Family/Brady Bunch) kitchen. As I was flipping through the paint color fan, looking for something that complimented the tile and granite, I fell in love with “Chinchilla”, which is purple. Not a screaming Grape Ape purple, but purple nonetheless. Our young kitchen designer loved what she called my “bold choice”. She seemed happily surprised that I chose something so unconventional. I’m not sure I would have done so even 10 years ago. But now? Who else am I trying to please in my own home but me? After last week’s paint department chat, I’m happy to say I’m not alone.

Graciousness.

While in the process of the tedious job of stripping wallpaper and preparing to paint my daughter’s childhood bedroom, I have found my mind wandering. It’s funny, the random things we will suddenly remember when we’re engaged in something repetitive and boring. The memory that came to me yesterday was the memory of a lesson in graciousness.

I made a cake for my friend’s mother’s birthday. I was a teenager with no money, and the ingredients were readily available in my own mother’s kitchen. I decided on the same dark, moist cocoa based cake with cream cheese frosting that my grandma made for birthdays in my family.

The birthday mom seemed to be genuinely touched that I had not only remembered, but also had taken the time to bake for her. My friend’s older sister was quick to chime in, telling me that her mother got sick when she ate chocolate. Even though my intentions had been good, I had obviously not considered the possibility of food allergies. I just went with what I knew. I immediately wished I had opted for vanilla.

“First of all, it’s not your cake.” Mom said to the sister. “Second, YOU didn’t even think to bake a cake for me, so maybe that’s why you’re so quick to criticize the person who did.” We lit the candles, she made a wish and blew them out, and we ate the cake. I don’t know if she regretted her decision to have “just a small piece” later or not. What I do know is that she made, through her example, a lifelong impression on the meaning of manners, gratitude and kindness on a gawky, well-intentioned teenaged girl.