When COVID-19 broke out all over the world, an international debate about the wearing of face coverings also broke out. Some people believe that wearing masks will slow the spread of infection and that the masks are critical to containing the virus until there is a vaccine. Others believe masks do no good and represent an infringement on our civil liberties. Others believe that masks probably have some impact on stemming infection and that there is little downside to wearing them. Personally, I believe they do have an impact. I believe that we are seeing the positive results of wearing them in places that have mandated wearing masks in public. I wear my mask, not intending any political statement, but simply because I want to do everything I can to give us all more safety, peace of mind, and freedom.
For people who are not completely convinced of the public health advantages of wearing a mask when venturing out into the big wide world, I have compiled a list of ten other benefits that may be more compelling.
You save a lot of money on lipstick.
When worn with sunglasses, you can make faces at people without them knowing it.
You can have a bad hair day and people will just assume it is the mask.
You can buy a whole wardrobe of them and use them as fashion accessories.
You can talk with your mouth full and no one knows the difference.
You can rent out space on your mouth for advertising.
There is now finally something you can buy at Brighton Collectibles that actually costs less than the “free” $25 gift card they send you for your birthday (okay… that one is a little esoteric, but, as someone who routinely ends up using her $25 birthday credit to buy something that costs over $200, it is a considerable benefit for me).
Orthodontia may become a thing of the past.
You have an excuse when you meet someone in the grocery store and can’t remember his or her name (as in, “oh silly me; I didn’t recognize you with the mask on!”)
You can take Tink-ering to a whole new level.
You’re welcome.
What benefits of wearing a mask have you discovered? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can leave me an email at terriretirement@gmail.com.
When Max moved in with me in 2002, we had a talk about keeping our relationship lively. Before we cohabitated, we lived about an hour away from each other, with traffic. We got together for a date every Saturday. It was the highlight of the week for both of us. When he moved in with me, I wanted to make sure we still had that special dedicated time to have fun together. I made him agree that, even if we were living in the same home, we would still have a date at least once a week. I am happy to say that we have kept that agreement, almost without fail. Since my retirement, we’ve even upped the ante and have spend two days a week doing something fun together. Since the COVID-19 invasion, this has been a little more challenging, but we’ve managed to pull off some form of a date a couple of times a week even during the pandemic.
However, when I talked to Max about my need for a weekly date way back in 2002, getting a COVID-19 test together was not exactly what I had in mind.
The other day, we set out on an admittedly low-key date day. We went to Starbucks and sat in the café. We chatted, sipped our beverages and shared a slice of pumpkin bread. It is still kind of a thrill to be inside the Starbucks, so I suppose that, in itself, might qualify for a date. We had even more exciting plans, however. Our original schedule involved going to Home Depot to return a towel bar and then wander the tiny, not-quite-a-mall in our town. Whoo-hoo!
When we got to the Home Depot, Max spotted a white tent-like structure in the parking lot. We wondered what it was and drove around it to investigate. It turns out that it was a pop-up COVID-19 testing facility. Max suggested we get tested. I was not quite on board because I could not think of any reason we would be at risk. As far as we knew, none of the people with whom we are in contact has the virus. Neither of us has any symptoms. The infection rate in our county has been decreasing. Still, I could not think of any reason not to get tested, so I agreed to undergo the procedure to please Max.
The operation was efficient. A masked and shielded greeter registered us and explained the processing and results procedures. There was one person ahead of us getting tested when we arrived. Max took the first turn and the technician ushered me in right after finishing with Max, before I had a chance to even ask him what it was like.
As a public service, I am going to tell you what it is like. It is like having a tiny eggbeater pushed up your nose into your brain for ten seconds in each nostril. I am glad I only have two nostrils.
I would not say it hurt exactly. “Pain” seems too strong a word. It was more that it was such a weird sensation than that it actually hurt. It is sort of like the eyeball, nose, and ear equivalent of chewing on aluminum foil. My eyes certainly watered and I felt my face doing some weird contortions, like when you taste something extremely sour. I later found out that there is sometimes a problem with testers who want to make the test more comfortable so they end up not going far enough up the nostril to get a valid specimen. I do not think my technician had that problem. That night, I looked it up on the internet. Apparently, if your eyes water, that is a sign that the technician is performing the test correctly because the process puts pressure on the tear ducts. Gold star, COVID-19 tester outside of Home Depot.
The people at the testing site told us that we could set up an account on their website and would be able to access our results in 2-5 days. Less than 48 hours later, their website revealed that we both tested negative. Yay, us.
The other thing that the people at the testing site told us is that you should get tested every fourteen days if you are out and about in the world. Yeah, no. That’s not happening.
What is your idea of a romantic date? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
In my blog piece, Golden Hearts, I mentioned how sad I am that the Tokyo Summer Olympic Games had to be postponed because of the worldwide spread of the coronavirus. I said that I love the Olympics for the sports, but even more for the stories. I feel strongly that the Olympic athletes give us a shining example of what excellence looks like. The Olympians show us how the pursuit of excellence in peace can bring a brighter, more hopeful perspective to the world. It makes my heart hurt to think of those wonderful athletes and excellence creators who will miss what might be their only opportunity to compete in an Olympic games. I decided I would do some internet-trawling to learn some of their stories.
I looked at the Team USA website and randomly chose just a few athletes to research. What I learned touched me heart. I am sure that I could and will find similar stories no matter where my mouse chose to click. Let me tell you about some of the people I met.
Abdi Abdirahman
Abdi is a long-distance runner, specializing in the 10,000 meter and marathon races. He is also 43 years old, the oldest man to ever qualify for the USA Olympic running team. He was born in Somalia and educated in the United States, becoming a citizen in the year 2000. He spent his high school and college years clothed in competitive running. I am sure that, as an immigrant from a third world country, he faced many physical, economic, and emotional challenges as he grew into the person he was destined to become. He would have been competing in his 5th Olympics this year in Tokyo. Given his age, he may very well not be competing when the Tokyo games open next year. One could say that at least he got the chance to be an Olympian four other times, but I am sure that having to say good-bye to your Olympic so abruptly is gut-wrenching. As a retiree, I know the satisfaction in leaving a career on my own terms. It is much more difficult and disorienting when one is forced out because of circumstances beyond his control.
Alexis Allan
Alexis would have been a first-time Olympian this year. She is an infielder for Team USA Women’s Softball. At 21, she will likely still be able to compete in Tokyo next year. Life is uncertain, however, and athletes can never be sure that an injury or bright up-and-comer will not scuttle them off the field. Alexis seems to have entered the “family business.” Her grandmother, Shelia Cornell-Douty, was a two-time Olympic gold medalist playing first base for Team USA. Alexis is from Hesperia, California. When I lived in California, I often drove past Hesperia on my way to Las Vegas. The locals refer to it as “Desperia” because it is so podunk and removed from the exciting rhythms of modern urban life. Coming from a small town, inspired by the excellence of her grandmother, and nurturing her God-given gifts, Alexis is following her own star.
Gil Saenz
Gil plays baseball. He was also meant to be a first time Olympian this year. At age 32, his opportunity to participate next year in Tokyo is a little more tenuous than Alexis’s chance. I have hope for Gil, however. His bio reflects a person who has a tremendous amount of family support, which seems to have instilled a deep commitment in him. He describes himself as “motivated, dedicated, and loyal.” He is the kind of person who may be able to let disappointment soak into him and allow it to make him stronger. I certainly hope so. When asked what it meant to him to represent the United States in the Olympics, Gil said, “Getting to represent the best country in the world is like no other feeling out there. It’s an honor and a privilege to wear those three letters across my chest.” How can you not love having someone like that represent you?
Laura Zeng
Laura represents an American breakthrough in a sport where we did not previously have much of a presence- rhythmic gymnastics. Many of us look forward to cheering the USA’s artistic gymnasts towards victory each Olympics. However, rhythmic gymnastics is lesser known, and the United States has not been a realistic contender in the past. Until recently. Laura was the first rhythmic gymnast from the United States to medal in the sport in either a junior or senior Olympics. She won the bronze medal at the 2014 junior Olympic games. Despite the time, energy, and focus she put into her sport, Laura also graduated from high school as a National Merit Scholarship and committed to Yale University.
These are just a few of the stories we can tell of our Olympians Deferred. What jumps out to me is not simply excellence in athletic ability; what stands out to me is excellence of intelligence, excellence of commitment, and excellence of character.
Do you have a favorite Olympian or Olympic moment? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
This is what we heard from everyone as we walked towards our destination. People waved. People smiled. People cried out, “we missed you!” You would have thought we were heroes returning from some war instead of crazed Disney fans returning to our happy place in the middle of a worldwide pandemic.
Yes, despite the fact the COVID-19 infection is still plucking away at our world, Max and I trotted ourselves out to the Magic Kingdom for a special, limited capacity passholder preview event before the park officially reopened. It was not so much that we couldn’t stand to go another season without a Disney fix that prompted this act of recklessness. It was more that it seemed like a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see and feel what an uncrowded Disney park is like. As Disney reopened, they were severely limiting the number of people in the park. They did not publicize the number, but experts estimated the park would be operating at only about 25% of capacity. I have lived in the shadow of Disney parks all my life. Even with this wealth of experience and wisdom under my belt, I could not conceive of what 25% capacity would feel like. Short of having to fight an army of fire-breathing and vomit-spewing dragons to get in, there was not much that was going to stop me from experiencing a desolate Disney ghost town.
To further convince me that I should risk a potentially fatal disease or lifelong lung damage to go to Disney for this soft reopening, the fates decreed I should go. I have been a Disney passholder for nearly five years. In all that time, I have NEVER attended any of the special passholder events. I have never been one of the chosen few to receive the email invitation and respond within the first few minutes before the event reaches capacity. It is sort of like having to be the fourteenth caller when a radio station is giving away concert tickets. Odds are, it is never going to happen. A couple of weeks before this event, I was sitting at the car dealership waiting for an oil change. Bored, I was checking my phone lethargically. Coincidentally, I saw an email inviting me to register for the passholder preview event. I did not believe for a minute that I was going to be able to claim a space for Max and I because prior experience has taught me that, if you take an breath between the time the email goes out and the time you try to book a reservation, you are going to miss out. Just for giggles and because I had nothing else to do, I followed the link to register. To my utter amazement, I was able to sign us up for a day of Disney with a side of hand sanitizer.
We did think about whether going was an acceptable risk. There is so much drama in the media telling us that the Florida coronavirus numbers are climbing out of control. As I have said in prior posts, I have not felt particularly scared during this pandemic. On the other hand, I absolutely want to be responsible. I do not want to do anything that will put other people at risk, especially as I am doing volunteer work which does put me in brief contact with older, immune-compromised individuals. I decided to take a deeper dive into the numbers to analyze whether things are getting worse, better, or staying about the same. I looked at the Florida coronavirus infection rate for the middle of April. At that time, approximately 1% off the population had tested positive for the coronavirus. Today, the percentage is 1.92%, so there has been an increase. On the other hand, the percentage is still low, despite more testing and several months of reopened commerce in Florida. It has been around the 1.9% rate for several weeks. Less than 1/10th of 1% of Floridians have been sick enough to be hospitalized. In Orange County, where most of Disney is located, the percentage infected is about the same, but the daily infection rate amongst those being tested has been declining. For several weeks, the percentage of positive results of people tested has been below 10%. Additionally, ½ of 1% of all Orange County residents have been hospitalized.
Now, numbers are one thing. Depending upon what you look at and how you look at it, they can often tell you whatever you want to hear. I will not say that the virus is not a safety consideration. However, it did seem that the risk was reasonable for me.
Then, there is another factor… the pixie dust prescription. Disney has a whole lot to lose if they contribute to the spread of death and destruction. Disney also has a corporate culture that is about excellence and innovation. Disney also has a staff that is well-trained and resilient. Frankly, one of my motivating factors for wanting to go was to see the creative ways Disney employed to manage the risk while still spinning the magic.
So we decided to go, evaluate what we saw, and leave the second we felt uncomfortable.
We approached the entrance to the parking lot, excited and wary. The line to get into the parking lot was a bit of a struggle. I am not completely sure what was causing the delay, but I think it was due to the additional time it took to park the cars socially distant from each other. What was kind of interesting about the socially distant parking is that Disney came up with a way to do the social distancing without having people park further away than they would need to if the cars were traditionally spaced. I noticed when we left that the attendants must have shifted the flow of traffic to fill in the spots left between the earlier guests’ cars.
Once we got into the parking lot, everything was smooth and comfortable. Directed by smiling, waving, and welcoming cast members, we boarded the ferry to go over to the park. There were clear social distancing markers on the floor of the boat to indicate where to stand. Everyone was wearing masks. The cast members had masks AND face shields. When we disembarked, we stood in a fast-moving line so that only one party at a time could exit the ferry. Later, when we were going back to the parking lot on the monorail, cast members permitted only one party on each monorail car.
The first thing we noticed at the entrance to the Magic Kingdom was that there was no line. For any of you who have been to the MK, you know that it is a bit of an ordeal. Wait to get entry to the parking lot, park your car, take a tram to the transportation center, wait in line for bag check, wait in line for either ferry or monorail, wait in line to get into the park. Even though there are always multiple turnstiles available to enter the park, there are lines at every one of them if you get there anywhere near park opening time. On passholder preview day, THERE WAS NO WAIT.
And no people. At least, that is the way it seemed when we stepped foot on Main Street. It was almost spooky. There was almost no sign of life. Max really, really likes getting Starbucks when we go anywhere for a day trip. He is happily content to do pretty much anything I want for the rest of the day, but he really does want that latte first thing in the morning when we are on an adventure. He will forgo it if we have something critical that we must get to first, but the morning Starbucks truly is important to him. He does not ask for much, so I suck it up and factor waiting in the huge lines at Disney Starbucks locations as part of my plan for the day. On passholder preview day, there was no line. I think there were two people in the coffee shop. By the time I recovered from the shock and awe of this phenomenon, he had his coffee and we were on our way.
Such was the order of the day. We walked on to virtually every ride. I rode the Seven Dwarves Mine Train for the first time, with a 20-minute wait. The wait for Splash Mountain was similar. The queues on the other rides… oh wait, there were no queues.
From a safety point of view, it was amazing. Except for a few cast members and Max, I doubt I got closer than 10 feet to anyone the entire day. I think they expanded the space between social distancing markers to allow for antsy children and for large parties. There were a couple of times when I had to inch forward off my spot to peek ahead to see if I was supposed to move. The people in front of me were so far away, I could not see where they were! There was hand sanitizer at the entrance and exit of each ride. The cast members employed huge industrial containers of disinfectant attached to their backs to periodically spray all the ride cars. With ride vehicles designed for more than one party, they sometimes had one party in the first row and one in the back row if there were several rows in between. Usually, it was just one party for vehicle.
From a magic point of view, my reaction was a little more mixed. To be completely honest, there was an initial sense of weirdness and forced gaiety. Having so few fellow revelers did result in a slightly less festive atmosphere. Many of the eating and shopping dining venues were still closed. There were no Mickey-shaped pretzels to be had. The absence of shows and parades did seem sort of “less than.” On the other hand, having such short waits was uber magical. The seemingly genuine and extremely vocal welcomes from the cast members made me feel “especially special.”
As the day wore on, I found the magic. Every now and again, there was a pop-up presentation- a group of dancers, huge parade float carrying a character, or streetcar of singers. I cannot call them “parades,” because the very nature of a “parade” suggests more than one exhibit, one following behind another. These were more like parade snapshots- one band, one drill team, one float. The most magical moment of the day was when we ran across Tinker Bell riding atop a giant treasure chest around the circle at the end of Main Street. Because there were so few people, she could identify individuals standing below, smiling at her. She noticed my quarantined Tink shirt and pointed at me. She laughed, waved, and blew kisses to me. I walked beside the float all around the circle. It was like Tink and I had our very own parade.
It may not have been a personal, side-by-side visit with my Pixie Princess, but it was a new and different kind of magic.
Have you done anything wild and unpredictable as the world starts to reopen? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com
Have a magical day!
Terri/Dorry 😊
Quarantinking! Before anyone asks, I was wearing a mask. It was permissible to lower them for brief photo ops. Notice I have a Mickey nose showing beneath my chin. That is my mask, which I pulled back up over my mouth and nose immediately after Max took this pic.No trip to Magic Kingdom, even a quaran-truncated one, is complete without Tinky!
Last Friday, the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad were supposed to open in Tokyo, Japan. As everyone who has not been living on some COVID-free planet for the past five months knows, these summer games have been postponed until July 23, 2021 because of our worldwide pandemic.
I’m sad.
I have always been an Olympics fan. I enjoy the pageantry and the passion. I enjoy the patriotism. I enjoy watching the sports, even the ones with which I am entirely unfamiliar. I watch sports I do not understand during the Olympics simply because it is the Olympics. For two weeks in the summer every four years, the world celebrates excellence. I have always wanted to attend an Olympics and never have. Gluing myself to the television screen every waking hour of the day is likely the closest I will ever get. This Olympic year, I am not going to even get that.
I know the Olympic games and the Olympic spirit is not cancelled, simply postponed. I know that my mourning for the vicarious Olympic community experience is selfish considering what is going on around us right now. It is especially selfish because I am sure that the athletes who intended to be in Tokyo competing right now are having it much worse than I am. For many of them, I am sure Tokyo was to be the shining zenith of their athletic careers. A year’s postponement will be the same as a cancellation for some of these athletes. The “sweet spot” of athletic achievement opportunity will not always linger for another year. For the people who worked so hard all their lives to achieve a dream, a postponement may crush the dream. All I can do is pray that they can take that commitment and passion and channel it into another dream.
To me, the most excellent thing about the Olympics is not the sports. It is the people and the stories. I love meeting individuals who rise above poverty, obscurity, and hardship to become the best in the world at something. I love hearing the stories of competitors who purposely slow their own progress to help another athlete. My heart expands when the commentators tell us about love stories that grow between participants. I even love the commercials- the ones that introduce us to the relationships between parents and children, coaches and athletes, country and competitor. The Olympics are games, but they are also a movement, a spirit, and a flame.
As much as I love the games, my real passion is the movement, spirit, and flame. That flame could ignite all of hearts. It could ignite our hearts with peace, excellence, performance, and perseverance. Even those of us, like me, who will never become the best in the world at anything in particular, can use that flame to fuel our efforts to be the best people we can be. I don’t want to wait another whole year to feel that fire.
So even if the games of the XXXIII will not be gracing my television screen this year, I am going to use this time to research the golden hearts of these postponed Olympics. I am going to search for the people, the passion, and the stories that would have been woven into this summer’s games. Those people deserve for us to know their stories. I need to know those stories to build my own golden heart.
The good Lord willing, I will be watching the athletes of 2021 next July. I know the delayed Olympics will still move and inspire me. However, it is good remember that there are always golden hearts out there if we look!
Do you watch the Olympics? What is your favorite part about it? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirment@gmail.com.
Most of you who know me know that I manage my anxiety with over-preparation. It is as if I think I can plan my way out of impending doom. Clearly, planning and preparation is a good thing. Clearly, it is good to take appropriate action to be ready for possible emergencies or disasters. However, life teaches us that, no matter how much planning and preparation we do, emergencies and disasters will still happen. Life also teaches us that, sometimes, those emergencies and disasters are not as catastrophic as we fear in the grand scheme of things. All that planning and preparation can build them up in our minds to a more ferocious level than they merit.
I get all that. These philosophical musings notwithstanding, I still tend to plan for every conceivable eventuality before I ever embark on a project. Before I launched this blog, I pre-wrote about twenty posts to make sure that I would have new content each week. This was my safety net against being torpedoed by crippling writer’s block. Ever since that time, I have always had at least three articles written in advance waiting to be posted. I mean, the idea of a Wednesday looming ahead of me with nothing ready to post… appalling and unacceptable! Or that I might miss a Wednesday… that would be even more devastating. Heaven forbid that I should get up one Wednesday morning and just write something!
Well, that day I have feared since I launched the blog nearly five years ago has arrived. Last Wednesday, I posted Extraordinary Personship (http://www.terrilabonte.com/2020/07/extraordinary-personship/). This was the last pre-written piece I had stored in my hopper. And you know what? Nothing very bad has happened.
It is not that I have run out of ideas for blog posts. I have four or five snippets of ideas running around in my brain. It is just that they are all muddled around up there in the attic- tangled and twisted and tentacled into a big mess. I need to sort them out and get them to behave. Some of them have found their path and are running headlong down the way to completion. My typing is just not as quick as my brain. Other kernels of ideas are flying around in my head, desperately looking for a point on which to land. Then there are some that are dithering about, dancing and jumping and making merry with no intention of settling down long enough to make any point at all. Ideas can be like that. They all have their own energy, their own path, and their own schedule. They cannot be rushed. I have decided that I should just slow down and enjoy the show. It is kind of fun to embrace the muddle.
It may take me a few weeks to unravel the mess in my mind. Ultimately, I am confident that the blog posts will get written and I will be satisfied with the evolution of the idea nuggets that are currently muddled in my brain. Please have patience and bear with me.
I think you will understand. After all, we all get a little muddled sometimes!
Does your mind ever get muddled? What do you to sort things out? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can send me an email at terrirretirement@gmail.com.
Have a moment of clarity today!!
Terri/Dorry 😊
PS Please do not forget about my book, Random (A)Musings. If you have not ordered your very own copy, please visit Amazon to become one of the many, many (well, 40) people who are the owners of this wacky journey into my brain. I would really appreciate it.
I have always believed in the importance of self-improvement. Maybe it is easy for me, since there have always been so many areas in which I need to improve. As much as I laugh at myself for all my introspection and navel-gazing, I do try to use my observations to be a better person. I don’t know if I succeed, but I think it is important to try.
I used to think that the key to self-improvement was to identify areas of weakness and work on correcting them. Then, I read a book called The Extraordinary Leader by Joseph Folkman and John Zenger. It changed my whole perspective. Folkman and Zenger suggest that it is not very productive to identify weaknesses and invest energy on them. They hypothesize that, no matter how much energy a person spends on attributes that are not natural strengths, very little improvement is likely to result. The far greater investment is to identify natural strengths and develop them even further. Folkman and Zenger believe there is much more value in turning “good” to “great” than in turning “weak” to “mediocre.”
Of course, Folkman and Zenger acknowledge that there are certain weaknesses that, if weak enough, will result in failure to lead. These are known as “fatal flaws.” In most positions of leadership, there are critical job duties that require basic competency at some particular skill. For instance, many leadership positions require the leader communicate effectively in writing. A critical job duty might be writing performance appraisals. Someone who aspires to be a leader may not have to be the best writer in the world, but she probably won’t succeed if she can’t at least string some coherent thoughts together on the page and consult spellcheck appropriately. The idea of the fatal flaw is that the inability to develop at least minimal proficiency in some specific skill will be so detrimental or distracting that the leader will be unable to deliver the necessary results or to inspire followership. In that case, the leader will fail, no matter how extraordinary the leader’s other attributes are.
Therefore, the concept of extraordinary leadership is that a person should work to eliminate any fatal flaws and then concentrate all their improvement efforts on their strengths rather than their weaknesses.
I think the concept works over a much wider landscape than “leadership.” I think it is desirable to live life pursuing extraordinary personship. I think we all have the capacity to grow in excellence and contribution. I think it is much more satisfying and productive to grow by nurturing our gifts and leveraging our strengths than slogging our way through the depths of our disinclinations. It’s a whole lot more fun, too.
The result I want most out of my personhood is to be kind, have integrity, and demonstrate Christianity. These are high aspirations. I think I will have to develop extraordinary personhood to even come close to achieving them in whatever time I have left in this life. I really do want to spend the time I have left developing the parts of me that are most likely to yield greatness.
However, before I start shooting off any fireworks or throwing any parties in celebration of my extraordinary personhood, I have to acknowledge that I have a fatal flaw. I am a terrible worrier. To be a truly extraordinary person and allow yourself to succeed at growth, you have to be brave and free enough to let yourself go. Worrying is a pretty big detriment and distractor. I’m sure the inability to control worrying will ultimately prevent me from delivering the results I want in my life. Before I can really cultivate and leverage my natural personship strengths, I have to shore up my propensity towards worry.
I have been working on that fatal flaw, with some success. The thing to remember is that I don’t have to become great at keeping worries at bay. In fact, I don’t even have to be as good at it as the next person. I just have to not suck at it. In other words, I have to gain at least enough competency in anxiety management to make sure that my worries don’t completely negate my strengths.
And I do have strengths as a person. I know I do. I do believe I have a strong capacity to empathize, love, and nurture. As I mature and grow, I am taking specific steps to grow those natural inclinations. If the results I want out of life are kindness, integrity, and Christianity, I think I must improve my empathy, love, and nurturing skills from good to great. I just need to be mindful about my attempts at extraordinary personship. When I wrote my blog piece Love-er-ly (http://www.terrilabonte.com/2020/02/love-er-ly/), I think I was exploring that process.
There is one more thing that I am doing to increase my mindfulness of my extraordinary personship goals. I have two bracelets I wear when I know I will be tackling a challenging situation or just feel the need for reminding. One says “Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46:10.” This bracelet reminds me to curb my fatal flaw of worrying. The other bracelet says, “Let all you do be done in love. 1Corinthians 16:14,” reminding me to lead with my strength.
Let’s face it. There is no way I’m getting anywhere close to extraordinary without God!
What are your greatest strengths? How can you grow them from good to great? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment, In the alternative, you can send me an email at terriretirement@gmail.com.
We went to Busch Gardens a few weeks before the COVID-19 quarantine. It was a sunny day, but cold and windy. Even I, with my superheated bloodstream and hyper-insulated body type, sported long pants, socks, and a puffy quilted jacket. I was very comfortable, although I did draw the line at flying through the air in an open sky ride gondola.
We went to see the sloths when we first got to the park. In the best of circumstances, a sloth is not exactly what you would call a perky animal. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE sloths. They are sweet, gentle, cuddly, kind, warm, and smiley. How could anyone not love sloths? They are big bundles of furry adorableness. Vivacious, however, is not a word that comes to mind.
While sloths are not exactly energetic on a normal day, the cold temperatures on the day we visited lowered their metabolisms to a near standstill. Most of them hung from tree branches by their extremities- little paws nearly touching each other on the limb. They curled the rest of their bodies tightly in against themselves. They nestled heads and tails in an unkempt meadow of body fur, obliterating them from view. The effect was that of a bucket made of fur hanging on a tree limb by a sinewy handle. Honestly, if the sign had not said there were sloths in the enclosure, I would have been hard-pressed to identify any living, breathing animal.
I was still pretty smitten with the beasts and we noticed there was an opportunity to participate in a sloth encounter, for a rather large extra fee. I thought it was way too much money, but Max thought it would be super cute to video me interacting up close and personal with a sloth. We went to the customer service counter to see about scheduling that interaction. We found out that the cost was even more than I thought and, besides, there were no spots available. The lady explained that they only allow six people to participate each day and people book their sloth appointments a year ahead of time. No sloth-cuddling for me.
We went on enjoying our day. Later, we decided to visit the sloths again before going home. The temperature was warmer, but still pretty frigid for Florida. I expected to find the sloths pretty much in the same bundled, bucketed positions they occupied when we left them earlier. I was in for a surprise. The sloths had moved about fourteen inches in the five hours since we’d first visited them. They were no longer crumpled up, recycling their own body heat. Instead, they were spread-eagled, clinging to the wire forming their enclosures. I noticed a red glow oozing from beneath their bellies. I looked harder and saw that each enclosure was equipped with an individual space heater roughly the size of a sloth abdomen. Those sloths looked like big, furry starfish stretched out over heat lamps built into the enclosure walls! Basically, our sloth friends had their own version of tanning beds. As I watched, one of the sloths turned his head and smiled at me in that slow, warm, slightly stoned-looking way that sloths have. He looked like Jeff Spicolli at a tanning salon in a San Fernando Valley strip mall.
(If you don’t understand the Jeff Spicolli reference, google Fast Times At Ridgemont High. You are missing out on an iconic figure of 1980s American pop culture.)
My time with the sloths taught me a few lessons, which I would like to share with you as a public service announcement.
You don’t have to jump up the minute someone else expects you to.
I’ve always been sensitive to other people’s needs and expectations of me. There isn’t anything wrong with that. I’m happy to help other people. It makes me feel good. I love building and nurturing close relationships with the people I love. It is relatively easy for me to maintain those relationships by behaving in a generous way with my energy, time, and money. On the other hand, sometimes I don’t really want to leap out of bed in the morning heaven-bent for leather. I would much rather curl myself into a slothy ball and keep to myself for a while. My day with the sloths taught me that there is nothing wrong with that. It also taught me that, if I honor that desire to vegetate and give myself some time, it is likely I’ll eventually unfurl and face the light of day.
Sometimes six people a day is enough.
Most people don’t understand this, but I am about as extreme an introvert as one can be. Based on every personality, disposition, and emotional preference survey I’ve taken in my life, I fall somewhere in the “hermit” zone. It isn’t that I don’t like people. Most of the strongest satisfaction I have in my life derives from people and relationships. I count it a huge blessing to have my family and friends from all walks of life all over the country. I cherish living in and nurturing those relationships. Without them, I would certainly wither. The thing is, all that relating can wear me out if I expose myself to too big a dose at one time. Before our trip to Busch Gardens, I had been feeling more tired than usual. People could look at my schedule and all the activities I was pursuing. They would not find it odd at all that I would be tired. It was not really the activity that was wearing me out, though. It is was engaging with so many people so often. I had to opt out of a few events just to give my introversion a bit of a rest. I felt a little embarrassed about missing these events and trying to explain my absence without hurting anyone’s feelings. I really did want to attend, and I really did want to spend time with these people. After my day with the sloths, I realized there is nothing wrong with skipping a few events and, if any explanation is required at all, the truth is perfectly fine.
Catch some rays.
I may not have my own personal heat lamp built into the wall of my house, but I have other options. When life seems cold and unfriendly, I know it is time for me to catch some rays and jump some waves. When the going gets rough, this sloth goes to the beach!
What have you learned from animals? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
Some friends and I recently took a road trip to Amelia Island on Northern Florida’s “Treasure Coast.” It was delightful. There was fresh air and sunshine and salty sea. Who would have believed that President James Monroe once called it a “festering fleshpot of immorality?”
To be fair, President Monroe’s assessment was based, in large part, on the population of pirates who were plundering this luscious piece of real estate booty at the time. I did not see any pirates during my stay. Well, not any real pirates, anyway. I did buy a Christmas tree ornament that depicts Santa Claus with an eyepatch and gold earring, but I don’t think that counts.
Our visit in Amelia Island included visiting some pretty awesome restaurants, splashing around in the ocean, admiring the adorable little cottages and adorable larger mansions, trawling the quaint retail shopping area, eating a crumb bun, and cruising around Cumberland Island on a tourist boat. I do not think there was much immorality involved, except for maybe the crumb bun. It was really, really good, though.
There was one aspect of our trip that did have a faint whiff of pirate panache. Given the COVID-19 lockdown over the past few months, it felt distinctly rebellious to be out wandering in the world. It was surprising how many people were visiting the island. Granted, the incidence of the virus has been much lower in Nassau County, where Amelia Island is located, than in the central and southern counties of Florida. The community of Fernandina Beach, the crown jewel of Amelia Island, has a population of about 13,000 people. Most of the activity in Fernandina Beach is outside, which means those 13,000 people are not congregating indoors in close quarters. These are just some of the differences between life in Lake County, where I live, and Amelia Island. It was surprising to see how those differences manifested themselves in real life practical terms.
At first glance, it almost seemed as if the COVID-19 pandemic had never happened on Amelia Island. Few people were wearing masks. Just about all establishments were open for business. You could try on clothes before buying them. It was a brave new old world. When one sailed further into the Amelia Island life, though, there were some indicators of safety precautions. There were social distancing measures in place. Most of the workers wore masks, especially in restaurants. Our hotel offered a free breakfast, which is usually a buffet. In consideration of the need to minimize contact, the hotel staff packed a bag with each guest’s choices instead of letting everyone get their own food from a buffet. I felt like the community was being smart about things, but there was much less evidence of a world shut down by disease on Amelia Island than there is where I live my daily life. There were protocols in place. However, those protocols were not so “in your face,” constantly reminding people at every turn that living is a risk factor. It was wonderful to ride this temporary wave of wildness.
It is amazing how far my standards of “normal” have fallen. To think I found it reassuringly normal to have a masked waiter serve me at a restaurant and to consider if having two people on an elevator was an acceptable risk! To think that I felt like a rebel because I was out in the world, where I could hear the sounds of people and commerce and entertainment!
It is not that I think that we should take a page from the Amelia Island book. As I said, the circumstances there are different from the circumstances where I live and the circumstances where I live are likely different from the circumstances where you live. I do not pretend to know the “right” thing to do. So, even though I am not advocating that we take a page from Amelia Island, it was very pleasant to read their book for a couple of days. It even gave me hope that maybe we can all regain some of our freedom and lightheartedness at some point.
In the meantime, I will remember my pirate days on Amelia Island fondly. Aaargh!
What makes you feel footloose and fancy free during this time of separation? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
I’m working through my second Lenten season after resolving to become a better pray-er last year. Please see my post http://www.terrilabonte.com/2020/05/i-say-a-little-prayer-for-you/ for additional background. Of course, I just published this piece, even though I wrote it almost a year ago. I get really nervous if I don’t have several weeks’ worth of blog posts in reserve. Perish the thought that I might have nothing ready to go some Wednesday morning! I would have to write something on the fly without proper planning and scheduling. The very possibility makes me nauseous. Sometimes my pre-recorded pieces get a little stale sitting on the shelf waiting for their moment, but I don’t think prayer ever gets stale. I don’t think there is anything wrong with two helpings of prayer in short succession. In fact, in these uncertain times, maybe two helpings of prayer are exactly what we need to keep us off the ledge.
I wanted to give you all an update on how my efforts to improve my prayer life were going. Last Lent, I began a Bible In One Year app project, which guided me towards dedicated Bible study and prayer each evening. After that experience, I served as the chaplain for our parish Episcopal Church Women group. My sole job in that capacity is to pray and lead other members toward prayer. I love it. I actually feel my soul expanding as I help channel our group’s powerhouse of prayer and search for creative, experiential, thoughtful ways to spur closer intimacy with God. I’ve been leading a small group in our Alpha program. This leads me to even deeper levels and stronger intensity of prayer. This past Lent, I chose a short passage of Scripture to capture and copy into my prayer journal each day. This helped me feel more confident and more grounded in my prayer.
I’ve learned a number of lessons about prayer and the results of dedicating time to improved communication with God.
Sometimes, external things happen when I pray.
There have been several instances when my prayer seems to have resulted in at least a small shift in circumstances. Maybe I have not witnessed anything super dramatic yet (although I believe something extremely dramatic HAS happened and we just don’t know it yet.) Still, I see mini-miracles tied to my prayer all the time. In the challenges presented by the COVID-19 physical distancing protocols, I see wonderful things happening. In one example, my small Episcopal Church has not missed a single Sunday service. After the CDC recommended that no one gather in groups of 10 or more, we didn’t gather together in the church building. However, the very first week without physical community services, our rector and a team of wonderful, talented, Spirit-filled people figured out a way to organize, produce, and market a Sunday service on YouTube. This might not seem like a big deal to a lot of people. Our community, however, is not exactly modern. It is not on the cutting edge of technology. It was like going from 0 to 100 in electronic communication/distance learning in just a few days. I am sure that was only achievable by hard working faith-filled, prayerful people. Another example is the way neighbors and community members are looking out for each other. I know there is hoarding and the grocery store shelves are pretty pitiful. At the same time, though, people are calling each other to check in on people who might be feeling isolated, running errands for those who are more at risk, being creative in constructing a way to help the world feel “normal,” and finding ways to ease the economic cataclysm that the lockdowns will cause for the most vulnerable among us.
I know there are many secular organizations and many non-Christians who are also working to do these things. I do think there is a difference with prayer, though. While we are all temporarily stopped from the busy-ness of our lives, some of us are spending more time in prayer and remembering our faith. In some ways, I see us coming closer together rather than further apart, as we deliberately and mindfully find ways to protect our relationships and spiritual journeys from isolation. Normally, when people are “stuck” inside their homes for a few days because of something like an oncoming hurricane, there is an overall atmosphere of resentment and dread. This time, there is almost a feeling of empowerment and joy within my circle of praying friends. It feels good for us to mobilize to deal with this challenge. It feels good to support efforts to remain connected. It feels good for us to remember who God calls us to be.
Sometimes, the changes I see are less tangible. I pray frequently for the guests in our church’s Alpha group. I have seen that prayer lighten their hearts, as God has brought them closer to His love. Of course, God could do that without my help. Jesus is the one that draws these folks to Him, not me. I think it is awesome and exciting that God gives me the opportunity to participate in the process, through prayer and agape.
During the past year, I’ve changed so much. My service, confidence, thoughtfulness, creativity, emotional and intellectual intelligence, relationship-building skills, and love have increased exponentially. My natural talents and strengths are expanding. I am forgiving myself more readily for my weaknesses and failures, secure that God has already done so. I often pray in thanksgiving for the paths where God chooses to lead me and the lessons he is teaching me. I am absolutely convinced that the point of life is to grow into the person God wants each of us to be. I feel like that is happening to me more now than at any time in my life. It may seem strange that this is happening as I enter my golden years rather than in my youth or middle age, but I guess everyone has his or her own script.
I think the reason I have been able to blossom, especially in the last year, is directly related to the increase in quantity and quality of my prayer life. I feel like my prayer life is a mighty fortress that God and I have built together. It protects me and allows me to live as genuinely and authentically as I can. Within the walls of this fortress, I can grow the garden of my life and build my serving ministry without fear. It is a godly kind of fortress. It doesn’t keep anyone out; it just protects what is inside it. The walls are permeable to anyone of good intent.
All in all, the most important thing I have learned is just this: Prayer works. It may not work the way you think it will, but it works!
Has your spiritual life changed during the COVID-19 pandemic? In what way? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me at terriretirement@gmail.com.
