For some reason, I have always appreciated “the view from behind.” As a child, on the first day of each school year, I was a nervous wreck waiting for the teacher to announce our seating arrangement. Front of the class? 😢 Too much exposure! Far too much responsibility to “be.” A nice, comfy seat toward the back? 😁 Perfect. I get to observe, to “see.” To breathecalmly.
In this blog category, “The View from Behind,” I invite you to join me, somewhere in the back.
************
“If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change.”– Buddha
A blog category of pics I’ve taken of HR (Hubby Robert) and … well, just about anything.
Robert and … a silly/terrifying blue-haired wooden Easter chick thing, eerily close to some Spanish moss on a tree trunk, showcasing his gay watch band, as well as both his little squirrel necklace (remember HR’s nickname is Squirrel) and his bear necklace (don’t get me started on that). Oh, and of course, a children’s playground in the background.
Definitely marveling this morning, remembering the fun time HR and I had hosting our day-before-Easter family picnic at nearby Skidaway Island State Park.
Robert practicing with his new camera stand thingy before the fam arrives …
The family picThe silly family picYoungest grandchild Isabelle was definitely the prize egg.
Yesterday I had an appointment with my dermatologist. I checked in and had to wait. And wait.
Quick run to the bathroom.
“What a pretty mirror,” I thought. (Who else even thinks to take a pic of the mirror in your doc’s bathroom?! Anybody? Anywhere?)
Then I was called back to Exam Room #3. “Take everything off except your underwear and mask,” I was instructed. I quickly obeyed. Then had to wait.
From the now chilly exam table, I spotted another mirror. “Hello,” I waved (to whom I’m not sure).
Still waiting, I sort of drifted off. (It was early morn, after all.) Woke up to yet another mirror.
Wouldn’t you think there would be fewer mirrors in a dermatologist’s office instead of more? We know we have skin issues. That’s why we came! Why throw it in our face (or other body part)?
Do normal people simply wait patiently until the doc knocks on the exam room door to announce her arrival?
But what fun would that be?
{Reminder Note: At next therapy session, ask Rubi if Mirror Obsession Disorder is a thing.}
1. An incredible lunch: Chicken pot pie at Pie Society, Ellis Square, Historic District Savannah. With HR and ex-wife Donna.
See the little chicks on the crust?
2. A washing machine. And a dryer! Do you have that incredible pair? If so, I invite you to pause, take a moment and thank God (or whoever/whatever) for such a Glorious Blessing. What would your life be like without them?
Ours is small, stacked, not top of the line, but what a blessing!
3. My husband HR …
… who gets on my LAST nerve sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
HR and OrangeWaiting outside Laney Contemporary Art Gallery (for it to open up). We saw and heard an exuberant hawk. We walked through white clover. We sat in orange chairs. We loved this greening tree. (More about the incredible gallery in another post.)
So this is what I have to put up with when Robert and I go out for a morning walk.
“Just a second, let me snap a quick picture or two.”
I can either put my Apple Watch fitness thingy on Pause and just stand there, or shake my arm to confuse the watch into thinking I’m still walking. Which causes great exhaustion after one long minute.
This blog category is the journaling and journey-ing of my quest to say (with cautious sincerity) “Hello, Anxiety” and to take a look at the condition from my “me-andering” views.
If you read my most recent “Hello, Anxiety” post, you may remember that for a variety of mostly sensible reasons, I have nicknamed my anxiety “Truffles.” In a nutshell, I’m trying (gritted teeth) to recognize anxiety as a part of my experience. And to back off from automatically wanting to fight it as my mortal enemy.
Well today HR (Husband Robert) and I were in Big Kroger here in Savannah, stocking up on supplies for the upcoming Easter egg hunt with the grandkids.
Seriously?
“Wait,” you interrupt, “Why call it BIG Kroger?” Because it’s GIGANTIC. I have to use GPS to find Spam. What? You don’t eat Spam? Okay. Whatever.
It’s a twenty minute Uber ride to the cracker aisle.
Anyway, I was walking (exhausted) down Aisle 2043 looking for colorful napkins when I stumbled into Truffles.
She/he/they was/were standing there, resplendently purple. Queenly. Kingly. I tried to walk past, pretending I didn’t see.
But I couldn’t. I stared. Transfixed. I picked Truffles up. Held him/her/them in my hands.
And for the first time in a long time (maybe forever), I was able to laugh, LAUGH, at my anxiety. Perhaps, laugh WITH my anxiety. In Big Kroger of all places.
I placed anxiety back on the shelf. Started to walk away. Finished with the little play.
Robert looked at me, stopping me, and said, “Neal, who knows when we will be back here, or if it will still be on the shelf.”
Irritated, I stood there.
Stood.
Between Robert and anxiety. Then sighed, walked to the checkout counter.
NealEnJoy 