Category Archives: Life

Not To Be Morbid or Anything

One of the tasks I am responsible for at work is checking the obituaries. We have an Excel spread sheet that is used to track the vital information: name, city, date of birth, date of death. We do this so that we remain aware of who has passed in our county. That way, if it happens to be a client, volunteer, or donor, we can ensure a sympathy card goes out in the mail and/or a name is taken off our mailing list, lest a widow or widower receives a solicitation from our organization in the mail with their deceased spouse’s name on it.

Some obits are short and to the point, not revealing much about the deceased beyond who preceded them in death and who from their earthly orbit is left to mourn their loss. These trigger my imagination. I ponder what the reasons could have been for these sparsely worded obits. Perhaps the deceased was not well-liked by their family? Or maybe, perhaps even worse, not well-known? Or perhaps they were so beloved that their loved ones just couldn’t put their heads around how to even begin to express their love for them in writing, momentarily emotionally paralyzed by their grief.

I suppose a percentage of the obits I read are written by paid professionals, though I can’t know for sure. It makes me wonder what information is requested of the families by the writer to allow them to create a tribute to the dearly departed that accurately captures who they were in life. What a sacred thing to be entrusted with.

Often, it seems, in particular with elderly females that have passed, the newly deceased are described in their obits as being “selfless”. I understand for those penning these obits this is high praise, but I can’t help but wonder if these “selfless” women actually got to enjoy their one and only precious lives at all. Or were they just too busy making sure everyone else was taken care of to do any taking care of themselves? No doubt this is a result of both the patriarchy and the generation these folks came up in.

One trend that I’ve noticed in these obituaries, which occurred on Mr. NOA’s side of the family (his maternal grandmother), is that folks are not always having funerals, or even “celebrations of life”. Often, it’s stated in the obits that this is per the deceased wishes.

I don’t get this at all. Funerals and “celebrations of life” are for the living. They are for the people who are devastated that you have passed on from this earthly sphere. Honestly, I think it’s selfish. However, I do understand a person not wanting to have an open casket when their family is having a funeral. I think that’s where Mr. NOA’s grandma was coming from; she didn’t want people looking at her lifeless body in a casket. I don’t want that either. I say cremate me, have a big ‘ol party and listen to my favorite songs.

Some obituaries are so beautifully written and with enough detail to make me wish I had known the person. Like the woman who had a dog named “George Michael Bluth“. I think she was an educator and loved to garden. Or the man who woke his children up by singing “Oh What a Beautiful Morning” at the top of his lungs every day.

There are times when the obits I read are of people who were not elderly. The ones whose lives were cut very short by a sudden medical emergency, accident, or cancer diagnoses. It brings it home for me that life is so fleeting and any control we think we have in how it’s going to end is delusional. It makes me feel like I want to take my life more seriously. Not take myself more seriously, mind you. Just life. Recognizing that each day I get is one to enjoy and appreciate.

I struggled a bit to find the right song to end this blog post with. As an elder Gen Xer, my brain kept returning to the first sad song I remember hearing as a kid, Seasons in the Sun by Terry Jacks. My sister had it on an old ’45 that I could play on my little plastic turntable back in about 1975. When I checked YouTube, I was surprised to learn that Nirvana recorded their own version of this song. Seems fitting to me.

So if you could use a good cry…enjoy?

This Darn Twitch

I am sick of the twitch in my left eye.

This annoying twitch comes about when I’m overstimulated, or when my brain is rapid-fire running through scenarios in my head where, for instance, the response I’m waiting for from someone is the most awful I can imagine. Or I’m gearing up to tell someone something I’m scared to tell them. Or when my must-be-planning-something-all-the-time-brain is in overdrive (which is often). Or when two people are talking to me at the same time.

Can anyone relate to this whatsoever?

This twitch of which I speak, I wonder: could it be related to my thus-far undiagnosed ADHD? After reflecting on my ways of being around other people ever since forever, along with recent commentary from two of my dearest family members, I’ve decided once and for alI to get the testing done. I saw my new primary care provider last month and she is referring me to another provider who does ADD/ADHD testing. For the longest time, despite suspecting I have it, I’ve had the attitude of “well, so what am I going to do with that information if I test ‘positive'”? Part of me still feels that way. In spite of that, I’m moving forward with it. Because I figure it’ll help me, whether I have ADHD or not, to understand my weirdness better. And if I do have it, perhaps I can learn tips and tricks that will help me function better in the world. Or get on meds that will chill me out.

It occurred to me recently, after not keeping a running to-do list for a week or so, that I feel so much better when I have a to-do list in progress at all times. It’s like a trick that helps to keep me on track. And it further occurred to me that the reason my to-do lists have proven so beneficial to me personally is because of my alleged ADHD.

Members of my family agree with me that my mom, Bonnie, most certainly had ADHD all her life, though she was never officially diagnosed. She was very high-energy, extraordinarily chatty, easily distracted, and was forever making to-do lists (like me). Bonnie always, always, had to have something to do. And if she was merely taking a breather between, say, ironing everyone’s clothes in our little kitchen, and baking some goodies, her fingers would be tapping out a tune on the table in front of her, or she’d be humming a song to herself.

Bonnie isn’t the only family member with ADHD either. There’s lots of examples of it throughout my family tree. There must be a hereditary component to it, right?

It stands to reason that I would fall somewhere on the ADD/ADHD spectrum. We shall see. I just need to get over the angst I feel at the thought of scheduling the appointment.

Wait, is that another clue that I have it? The angst over scheduling this (or any) appointment?

In any case, I sure hope this twitch hits the bricks soon.

Any way I slice it, I know that some mental health support will be beneficial for me in this season of my life where things feel heavier than usual and my brain feels overloaded. The song I’m sharing to cap off this week’s post does a good job of capturing where my head is at these days.

Bearing Witness in These Times

As a life-long conflict avoider, it’s unnerving for me to put myself in a position where it’s likely others will disagree with me. I’m a people-pleaser. I never want to rock the boat.

This is not me trying to get an “atta, girl” from you, my patient readers and friends, but this past Sunday, Mr. NOA and I participated in a rally to protest the infiltration of federal ICE agents in Minneapolis. There are many people, some whom I know and love, who don’t “get” why I participate in these things. And truthfully, I don’t actually want to participate in these rallies and protests. Because I don’t want there to be a reason in this country, the “land of the free”, to have to do so in the first place.

Yet I must bear witness.

When the first Trump administration began separating children from their parents at the southern border of Mexico, and putting these children into detention facilities (many are still there, a truly disgusting fact), I began praying that these kids would be reunited with their families again, ASAP. I imagined my daughter at the time, who was in her mid-twenties, a mom to our beautiful grandson, and in a very challenging marital situation. I imagined her being in a foreign country where she and her son’s life was in danger due to rampant violence by members of a drug cartel. How I would support her fleeing that country to come to America where she and her son could be safe. And then when they got across the border, after a harrowing journey, feeling weak and cold and hungry-having my grandson taken from her and put in a detention facility where he knows noone and there is nobody who can tell him when (or if) his mom was coming to get him. The cruelty is astounding to me. It’s un-American, inhumane, and it fills me with rage.

The murder of Renee Good, a mother of three, only 4 years older than my daughter, by an ICE officer in Minneapolis, fills me with rage and breaks my heart at the same time. To add insult to injury, the responses of some of my fellow Americans to this event have been quite disappointing. The amount of folks driving by as we waved and held signs opposing this administration and it’s American Gestapo, ICE, who flipped us the bird, was shocking to me. It did give us a little satisfaction, however, when a cop pulled over a speeding driver who was clearly attempting to use his speed and truck tires to splash slop on us on that bridge connecting Wisconsin to Minnesota last Sunday. The comment sections on social media regarding this crime was largely disappointing as well. People stating their belief that Renee Good was attempting to run over the ICE officer as she turned her SUV’s tires to the right, away from the officer. People believing she got what she had coming to her. Seriously? Like, the officer couldn’t have simply shot out her tires to stop her from using her vehicle as a weapon? It makes no sense.

May the Universe bless Minneapolis, and may we summon our better angels as a collective. May there be justice for Renee. I know in my heart that we can do better than this.

Christmas Has Arrived in Minnesconsin

Last week, I attended our grandson’s 6th grade band and choir concert. Our new grandbaby sat on mom’s lap and enjoyed the show, nodding off towards the end. Our 6th grader looked handsome with his festive tie and white button-down. It struck me that 6th grade is the specific time when kids are all wildly different sizes and heights. Our grandson is no longer the tallest one. In fact, we couldn’t even see him standing on the bleachers, as he was behind a tall blonde headed girl with glasses.

It must be such a trip to teach kids this age.

Mr. NOA was in DC for work last week. I couldn’t help but wish I’d been able to tag along this time. DC this time of year is a little extra special and I’ve always enjoyed being there during the holiday season. However, with him gone, I had more time to do my own thing. Like creating a new Christmas craft out of old Christmas cards while listening to Bing Crosby and friends belting out the merriest of tunes. So that was nice. The cookies all got sent out, and the shopping mostly wrapped up.

Speaking of Christmas cards, this marks year the second year in a row we’ve chosen to not send them out. I feel a little shitty about that, in particular when we receive one in the mail from a faraway friend. I always thought I should be one of those people who pen a yearly Christmas newsletter informing all of what went on in our orbit over the previous year and wishing them all good things for their holiday seasons. Alas, I have yet to attempt this. I chalk it up to being preoccupied with all the other Christmas-associated tasks, such as shopping, decorating, and cookie baking, which renders my bandwidth too meager for such an extra task.

Maybe after all these years, I’ve learned to stop biting off more than I can chew?

Speaking of biting (and chewing), here’s a silly little pic I took the other day of a freshly sliced dough of a Santa’s Whiskers cookie that, to me, appears to be in the shape of a heart. This was just a result of not quite getting a Martha Stewart-worthy circle-shaped log rolled before it chilled in the fridge for a bit.

One thing that is really standing out during Christmastime 2025 for me, is the simple joy of staying put. I’m surprised to hear myself say/write this. One of the most true things I can tell you, in my current era, is that the time and space between when Mr. NOA, Radar, and I moved out of the Denver metro and into Minnesconsin in 2022 has resulted in me becoming more in tune with my introverted side, more relaxed and grounded, but also much more of a homebody. Now, I can’t say this is a 100% good turn of events per se, but it’s true. Suffice it to say that I’m not terribly disappointed to not have gone to DC last week with my man.

The clear upside of becoming a homebody is that it allows me time to plan for and host company. Employing my hospitality skills is such a joyful experience for me. I team up with Mr. NOA, and together we get this joint spic-and-span. I plan whatever food and drink we will be serving, using the “keep it simple, sister” method always. I prepare said food and drink, futz around a little with the Christmas decor and whatnot, and we are good to go.

As a matter of fact, on Sunday we hosted my daughter and her fiance, two of the three grandsons, my SIL, and 5 of fiance’s family members for a wedding planning brunch. An agenda was followed, items were checked off and lists were made, phone numbers exchanged, and wedding decor, along with food and drink options were discussed.

What a beautiful thing it is when romantic love between two souls joins together two entire families. The *chef’s kiss* is when it’s abundantly clear that every person involved in this affair is thrilled it is happening and eager to support it in all the ways that they can.

Now, to get those presents wrapped, take in a Christmas movie or two, and proceed with making some appetizers and other goodies to nosh on with our family throughout this week, and it appears that this is going to be a sweet little Christmas.

I wish each of you the merriest of holidays! I hope you enjoy the pairing of these two epically talented chanteuses performing a lovely version of the sweetest Christmas song I can think of.

Intentionality, Illness, the Holidays, and Me

Hey there! I am officially done with my self-imposed blogging sabbatical. I’ve missed doing this. I’ve missed exchanging thoughts with you all, and I’ve missed reading your blogs. I hope you are all doing well and your Thanksgiving tables were filled with the company of those you love the most, good conversations, and delicious eats.

Now that I’m back to blogging, it feels like an update is in order.

Intentionality

In case you don’t recall, my WOTY (Word of the Year for any non-bloggers reading this) for 2025 was “Intentionality”. I doubt I’ll pick a new word for 2026, which is going to be here before we know it. That’s because it’s such a BIG word. I’m very committed to it still, but I see now that it mustn’t be a commitment limited to merely one calendar year. It’s for life. It requires dedication and lots of practice to even sort of feel like I’m getting it right. More than anything, it’s about being present and in tune with my five senses. It’s also very much about being choosier about where I’m expending my energy, especially the mental variety. That’s why I backed off from blogging for as long as I did. I needed to step away and do some personal excavating to re-engage my creative spirit.

Illness

As a person who has been known to exclaim such things as”I never get sick” and “I take my Emergen-C every morning so my immune system rocks”, coming down with this years version of the flu (yes, I had gotten both my flu and pneumonia shots in October) really threw me for a loop. Mr. NOA caught it first and then gifted it to me overnight. I missed three consecutive days of work as a result, which was truly adding insult to injury, as it just so happened to be my beloved boss’s last week of employment at our non-profit. So, big, huge, fat bummer. Together, Mr. NOA nursed ourselves slowly back to health while binge-watching The American Revolution series by Ken Burns on PBS, along with “The Beast in Me” (What. A. Tale.) on Netflix. I highly recommend them both.

Holidays

It’s December 1st, so Christmas plans are getting underway here in Minnesconsin. As always, I’m looking forward this season. As always, I’m aiming to keep things as simple as possible and to focus on the joy in the preparations. Wish me luck in avoiding the holiday “overwhelm”. Having a new baby in our midst surely adds a magical touch. Our newest grandson will be 6 months old at Christmas, and I’m certain that seeing his reaction to the lights, music, smells, and tastes (he will likely be starting to eat little bits of regular food by then) of the season will be the biggest highlight for me.

And now, for a song. I’m going to pick one that I’ve only recently come to realize that I absolutely adore. It’s uplifting and just so lovely. It really aligns with my spirit at this moment. Enjoy-and see you soon, friends!

Defecate or Disembark

Or, as my Dad used to say, “shit or get off the pot”.

That’s how I feel sometimes about blogging, among other things.

I’ve always been a person with a thousand ideas in my head, often at the same time. This makes it challenging to make decisions, which leads to anxiety. I suppose that’s why making “to-do” lists on the regular works for me. I have a mission written in black and white, and all I have to do is follow it.

The “to-do” list method doesn’t exactly work for creating blog posts, however. Writing blog posts is far more nuanced than doing a load of laundry and checking it off my list. There’s thought that goes into it. Oftentimes, for better or worse, too much thought (hence the reason if you are a regular follower of this blog, you may notice there’s sometimes long pauses between posts).

But then, sometimes anyway, I get to the point where I’ve had enough of all of this overthinking. Enough of the brain chatter I’ve been marinating in.

Surely I am not alone in this quagmire of indecisiveness.

Perhaps for you it’s a decision about going on that vacation you’ve been pondering for months. Or if you should take that class that piqued your interest. Or something simpler like if you are going to buy that snazzy new coat you saw at your favorite department store. Whatever it is that gets you hemming and hawing ad naseum.

Don’t you just get so tired of it? I do.

Let me give you an example from my personal life. I’ve known for a long time that I don’t have it in me to be apolitical. Until recently, my apolitical-ness has been shared on occasion via this blog and other social media platforms. Earlier this month, I decided to put myself out there and “walk the talk” as they say. Twice I volunteered to canvass in my community for the Democrat party. I got off the “pot” and did my best to embrace the discomfort of knocking on strangers’ doors to advocate voting for Harris/Walz and the Democrats down ballot. It felt good to do so.

I aim to do more of this in other areas of my life, because making a decision and then taking action on that decision, while scary, is empowering. Staying in my head and not actually doing anything to express what’s in there does not move me forward.

I think it’s wise to remember the lyrics from the band Rush’s song “Freewill”: “if you choose to not decide, you still have made a choice”.

Seems pretty fitting in a lot of cases in this life, don’t you think? Not making a choice leads to inertia and stagnancy. It doesn’t move us forward at all. It just holds us back.

What “pot” do you need to unload on or choose to disembark from in your life?

F is for Fun!

Let me start this post by acknowledging that I haven’t published a single blog post since March. I inadvertently gave myself a bit of a time-out. I’ve been working things out in my head in regards to this writing-out-loud thing called blogging. As an anxious people-pleasing overthinker, I imagine this will continue until the end of time.

I started writing what follows a few weeks ago.

Fun, for me at the moment, is working through the alphabet one little-post-that-may-never-see-the-light-of-day at a time. A self-assigned creative writing exercise, inspired by the “A to Z” blogging challenge. I’m just going at my own pace like the squirtoise I am, and purposefully not overthinking. Just going with the very first word that comes into this brain of mine, starting with the letter “A”.

I am curious, blogger and writing friends, do you also create writing challenges for yourself? If so, please share them with me in the comments!

The one thing that has always compelled me to write is because I find it to be so much fun. Stringing words together that capture how I’m feeling and what I’m thinking about tickles me. It’s a challenge for my brain that lights me up from the inside. And the possibility that someone out there in the universe (or blogosphere at least) might relate to the things I’m saying through my writing fuels me.

In tandem with my A-Z writing game, I’m working out (still, after 7 years of blogging) how important this blog is to me. I think I’ve been giving it more of my mental energy than is wise. When I factor in working (albeit part time), nurturing my personal relationships, taking care of our house and yard, and working on myself (remember, “Growth” is my WOTY and I’m sticking with it), blogging is not my highest priority. Not like it should ever be.

Now, this isn’t me saying “I quit!” by any means. It’s me challenging the rules I have put on myself as an amatuer writer with a blog. Examples: must I publish something every single week? If so, why? So, I may or may not publish something next week.

I leave you with a song that means a lot to me. It has spoken to me since the first time I heard it. As a 57 year-old here on planet Earth in the year 2024 who is perpetually searching for ways to bloom and grow, I find it very inspiring. I hope you do too!

Pushing Out of a Blogging Funk

I’ve been feeling funky lately, particularly when it comes to this blog. I’ve got all of these tabs open in my brain with all the things I want to accomplish and I’ve been finding it hard to sit down and focus on this blog. To just write something already.

I’m at the point where it’s likely if I don’t write something now and put it out there into the universe I’ll slink back into myself and end up abandoning this blogging venture for a good long while.

It’s not that I’m not writing anything. It’s just that I’m not writing anything that is for public consumption. Is this an example of that? Could be.

Anyway, all is well and (my) life is good and all of that. Really.

It’s just that I’m in a weird transitional sort of period of time at the moment. It’s basically been spring all winter here in Minnesconsin. The water is open in our lake. But it’s supposed to feel like winter and it doesn’t. We even saw our first robin outside our big picture window the other day. Climate change is real, folks.

There’s also other real things happening out there in the world that trouble me. Things I pray about every day, like the wars happening in the Ukraine and the Middle East. People I once knew dying. People I don’t know at all dying for no good reason. The great inequities in this country, where the uber rich are allowed to not pay their fair share while the rest of the population works their fingers to the bone to barely make ends meet. And so much more.

I assure you that I believe there is hope that good and right, democracy and justice will prevail in the end.

It’s just the “getting there” part that has me feeling anxious.

I promise that my next blog post will be more free-wheeling and upbeat, as that is how I want to keep rolling. My optimistic nature is still underneath all this “yuck”.

2024 WOTY

For a hot minute, I was going to jump feet first into the WordPress “Bloganuary” challenge. It’d be fun, I thought. A good challenge to start the new year. Then, once I took a moment to consider the pressure I’d put myself under to write and publish a blog post every single day for a month, I decided against it. No sense in biting off more than I can reasonably chew.

Know thyself.

Then, after seeing other bloggers announcing their “Word of the Year”, I decided that is something I wanted to embrace. Especially if I chose the right word for me.

How about you all? Is there one word, or perhaps a phrase, that you have chosen as your guiding light for 2024?

My word of the year is “Growth”.

It’s really simple: what I want for myself in 2024 (and truly, beyond) is to grow. To improve. To be better and do better. This is all so that I can be a better human. A better friend. A better employee. A better steward of time and money. A better steward of my mind and body. A better mom and grandma. A better spouse. A better writer.

What I will need to remind myself on the regular as I move forward this year is that growth does not happen without some pain. I’m going to be taking more risks, and with risks there will be failures.

Plenty of people would be uncomfortable doing what I do, blogging. I’m still not completely comfortable with it myself, in spite of doing it more or less consistently since 2017. So, maybe I have a leg up in a sense, as I push through the discomfort post by post.

I’m not going to go into specifics here and now, but general areas of personal growth in 2024 for me include, but are not limited to: blogging/writing, personal finances, relationships, work, and creative expression beyond writing.

The specifics will be written in the brand spanking new journal I recently brought. The idea is that at the beginning of each month, I will write down the objectives for that month and how I’m going to achieve them. I’ve started with small ones in January, with the intention of building good habits that I can carry into the next month so I have momentum for the objectives I establish for personal growth in February. And so on for each month of the year.

May my enthusiasm for growth not wane as I move forward in this new year.

Happiness is Having Something to Look Forward to, Part 2

I published a blog post almost 5 years ago in which I wrote about happiness being having something to look forward to.

The reason I’m revisiting this concept now is because it still feels relevant to me. I also believe it could help you.

Here’s a simple exercise I invite you to do right now. Or, if your time is limited today, maybe it’s something you could ponder for a bit and circle back to later.

Take a pen and paper and write down the following question: what am I looking forward to?

I caution you to not overthink this question. Ironic, coming from me, as I have a tendency to overthink things, sometimes to the extreme. Sometimes to the point where I have to pivot in my mind and shake things off. Turn my attention to something completely different or just journal like a madwoman to release the anxiety.

Anyway, the point is to keep it simple. Use the K.I.S.S. (Keep it Simple, Sister-or Sailor, or Son, or Silly-whatever works for you).

Simple like the image that inspired me to write the original post.

“Looking forward” in our minds, I think, releases endorphins and puts us in a frame of mind of excited anticipation. It can help us to get on with it and do what it is we need to do to prepare for the event, whatever it may be. It gets us to look up, towards the future, and not down, where the past is collecting dust.

A crucial part to having something to look forward to, cultivating the positive feelings that it engenders, is planning. It’s taking charge of what we want to do and coming up with a plan to make it happen.

As Dr. Alex Lickerman says in a Psychology Today article I read, “when I’ve looked for the difference between my happy days and my unhappy days, I’ve noticed that the former are frequently filled with thoughts about something I look forward to, while the latter are practically empty of them”.

Think about that for a minute. Can you relate?

Dr. Lickerman further states in this article “anticipatory pleasure is so important to my sense of well-being, in fact, that I now plan my life in such a way that I almost always have something to look forward to”.

As a planner and an optimist, this statement from Dr. Lickerman reflects how I’ve been living my life.

Here’s what I’m looking forward to in this moment: Taking myself out tomorrow for a little shopping in the sweet little town 15 minutes away from me. The temps have gone up, much of the snow has melted, and I feel joyful at the thought of driving the country roads to get there with my music cranked up and finding some treasures to zhuzh up my outdoor (and possibly indoor) space.

Here’s a song to get you motivated, if you need to find something to look forward to in the days ahead. Because “yesterday’s gone”.