relationships

There’s nothing like a flower show in the middle of a cold winter to warm our souls.  That was my thinking as I embarked on the member preview of the Orchid Show at the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx.  My plan was to get there early so I could get in and out and home for work.  I walked in the chilly weather to the subway where I got on the number 5 subway to Bedford Avenue.  However, it was the number 4 train that I needed, so I had to reroute, getting off at the Grand Concourse and then settling in for a 45-minute ride to the Garden via the Bx 19 bus.  This was an hour detour in total, getting me to the Garden with the throngs of people who also wanted to enjoy the tropical flowers.  

“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent”
Victor Hugo

Yesterday I was in sweats, my hair, stiff, frizzy, and dry while getting paperwork done in-between laundry loads.  Nothing glamorous about the day.  I was comfortable and perhaps a bit tired from a late night.  The late night was very unexpected.  I had a subscription to the New York Pops at Carnegie Hall.  It has turned out to be a marvelous series.  On Friday night I, along with a sold-out house, thoroughly enjoyed an evening of Gershwin music featuring the vocalist, Montego Glover and the pianist, Lee Musiker.  

“Don’t wait for people to tell you who you are.  Show them. “ 

Laura Benanti

I just came home from seeing Audible Theater’s production of Nobody Cares, written and performed by Laura Benanti.  She is a singular talent.  Before the show there were a bevy of celebrities in the audience including Patti Lupone, Sarah Bareiles, and Larry Owens.  They came to enjoy an evening featuring their colleague and friend.  

“True empowerment comes from knowing and embracing your own worth.”

Beverly Johnson

I just saw the new one woman show, In Vogue, in which Beverly Johnson shares her life’s story with a backdrop of photos of her, the culture, and other iconic people, movements, and moments in history.  

“Just do what works for you, because there will always be someone who thinks differently.”  Michelle Obama

I love quotes.  When I first started my psychotherapy private practice in the mid-90s before there were iPhones and Facebook, I had an answering machine, and the recording included quotes on there.  I changed them monthly or so, and it felt nice.  But I was a new therapist and I wanted to do things right.  It felt right to me.  Nonetheless, I was told by a senior therapist, one who I respected, that I might want to rethink having something so personal on my outgoing message.  The common practice was to be as neutral as possible. Her thinking was that a chosen quote could possibly be sharing unnecessary private information about me or, it might be misconceived.  

This week I’m sharing some past sunsets.  Seeing sunrises and sunsets makes me smile.  Sunsets remind me that nothing is permanent.  And sunrises are an apt metaphor that we always have a chance at a new beginning.  Both sentiments give me some peace.  And we could all use peace.

As the year approaches its end, forgiveness is on my mind.  I find that forgiveness is a process, though I used to imagine it was a one and done affair.  I earnestly believed that I could forgive someone and then I’d be okay with them.  I found that not to be the case.  It was easier to forgive if the person made changes.  Meaning they either stopped the offending behavior, or they started acting in a way they had avoided prior. 

Napping was my top priority this past week.  They were usually twenty to thirty minutes max.  They made a tremendous difference in my mood.  I was able to get through the week with a greater capacity for patience.  I had more room for the things that usually get under my skin, like loud car horns in grid lock, or the annoying overspill from packages protected with shredded paper or other messy stuffing. 

I spilled my coffee earlier this week.  And I then let out a loud string of expletives to vocalize my frustration.  I cleaned up the mess and then rushed to work.  Not the way I had wanted to start my day.  My reaction, though provoked,  made it clear that I need some down time.  It may not be the vacation that I’ve fantasized, but even an evening in, or a task free afternoon will do at this point.  

Autumn colors fire up Central Park.  I had the good fortune of walking through the park on several occasions this past week.  I was reminded that this season represents the last of the foliage as the trees and plants prepare for the winter.  Following winter comes a renewal as Spring brings greenery and flowers to enjoy.  Just seeing the colorful trees brought hope. 

I voted early yesterday.  I like my councilwoman and I wanted to keep her in office.  What I don’t get to vote for is the abolishment of daylight savings time.  We turned the clocks back last night, and ostensibly we got an extra hour of sleep.  Then in April we “spring” ahead losing that hour.  I say, no thank you.  

’ve been watching Dear… on Apple TV.  I found it by accident.  While looking for another program a small square with Selena Gomez’s image caught my eye.  I clicked on her framed face and came upon Dear…  I watched the 30-minute segment and was immediately hooked. The series features individuals in the public eye, some athletes, actors, writers, or activists, as they engage with letters of those who have been inspired by them The featured famous person’s  influence has helped to change the letter writers’ lives.  

Do I speak of the unspeakable?  This past week marks a tragic low in inhumane acts.  I cannot get my head around it.  As a Jewish psychotherapist I am in a similar position as I was when we faced the pandemic.  I am going through something that I am also hearing from my clients.  The sadness, along with so many other emotions, have been omnipresent this past week.  

When I was growing up in suburban New Jersey I didn’t know anything about self-care.  The first experience I had that felt like self-care was when my mom treated me to a facial at Strawbridge and Clothier.  They were having a special promotion.  Although I couldn’t control my weigh, we could try to tackle my acne this one time.  

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”  That was a common idiom of our mother’s lexicon.   She lived true to that statement.  Even when she attempted to comment on something she disapproved of, she did her best to soften it.  As a teen, I often was asked the question, “Janet, do you think that’s the most complementary outfit?“  Or it could have been make-up, pants, hair style or any other appearance-related observation.  As a sensitive teen I was crushed no matter how much she tried to say it diplomatically.   

I was ten years old.  The person who I had considered my best friend was in the Stafford School auditorium with her class, and I was with my class for a school-wide assembly.  Assemblies felt important.  Usually the principal spoke.  He was a tall, somber man who communicated in hushed tones lending an atmosphere of solemnity to childhood gatherings.  

Growing up my mother and her mother were sticklers for good manners.  I made a point of saying please and thank you.  I was afraid they would view me as rude, and I didn’t want that moniker.  My grandmother would point out other children who might have been louder than us, or publicly whiny, and she’d use those children as cautionary tails of behavior we were to stringently avoid.  

Although this cannot be said of much of the country or world, we in New York City have enjoyed a reprieve from the intense heat of July.  It has been delightful.  Today I relished a breezy morning riding my low-to-the-ground bicycle up and down Park Avenue for the annual Summer Streets event.  The Department of Transportation closes streets on Saturdays in all five boroughs throughout late July and August for pedestrians, joggers, and cyclists as a way of promoting greener transportation.