It is true, we are to forgive and then try to forget things we perceive as wounds to our psyche. They are personal, and often not intended by the person who said them in the way that they were received. I find email and texting particularly prone to misinterpretation. Partly because there is not only no eye contact or observed body language, but also  no tone of voice to listen to for inflection or compassion.

So is a blanket “I’m sorry” good enough? I don’t think so. If it doesn’t acknowledge the perceived misinterpretation, it will never suffice. It puts all the onus on the wounded party to absorb the hurt. If the person who has been offended is brave enough to bring it up, it needs to be addressed in a non-defensive way. This can happen only where both people are willing to talk about feelings, and open to the fact they both have played a part.

This will forever be the most difficult part of family dynamics for me. So much is said in jest and in sarcasm that it is difficult to separate the true jabs from the ones that were meant to roll off your back. Some of us are more thin-skinned or sensitive, evidently, than others. Not all of us want to repair the damage. It is a place to really test our personal communications skills, over and over again. Perhaps that is where we also decide to make changes in our own delivery, to benefit future generations going forward. For that reason it is worth trying, though it can be painful to attempt it and very possibly met with total resistance.

In that case there is only one choice. Try to forgive, and try to move in a different direction. However, if given the chance to truly hear and accept the pain my words may have caused someone close to me, I hope I will always try to find the courage to sincerely apologize for the damage those words have done. The results may be truly miraculous in lifting a burden I was not aware I had added to that person’s soul.

Sometimes, I almost forget about them. Sometimes they forget about me. But mostly, they are meant to be acknowledged and celebrated.  Often they only mean we have survived another year. If that has been a difficult one, as this has been for me, it may feel even more important to acknowledge that, with God’s grace, you made it!

Several weeks before this birthday I decided to make sure I didn’t spend it alone, apt to wallow in a woe is me, I think I’ll eat some worms attitude. I also decided that next year I would have a true celebration and invite all my friends and life-support people. The funny thing is, by putting that thought out there, I found that all of them checked in THIS year! I heard from so many people, the phone hardly stopped ringing the whole day. Because someone put something on Facebook, I also heard from so many people with whom  I have shared the privilege of finding their homes  over the years.

I had offers of dinners and lunches and overnight excursions and calls from my children and an elegant dinner out with my son. I couldn’t have asked for more. Oh yes, but there’s the point. I did ask. I put it out there that I wanted to celebrate with my friends…next year. What a surprise to me that it happened a year early!

You have not because you ask not. How true scripture often is. So simple. And yet I tend to feel that I don’t want to ‘use up my tickets’ in case there is really something important down the line. I also hesitate to ask God for something in case He can’t do it, I don’t want Him to look bad. How silly that I am worried about having God’s back! He has mine, all the time, and if He can’t do something, He still wants us to ask.

I made the comparison to a friend that when my son is out on tour with a well known band, often I would know people in a city where he was going to perform  who would love to see him play but perhaps didn’t really have the money for the tickets, or just as possible, it may already be sold out. Given that he often gets a few complimentary seats, I overcame my reluctance to ask him, and most times he had tickets he was glad to provide.

For my friends, whether he had the tickets or not, the mere fact that I asked was the major thing. They were fine if he didn’t have them, but thrilled that I had asked on their behalf. I believe it is that way with God. He can’t always give us exactly what we asked for, but if he could and we didn’t even ask, he might never know we had that desire in our heart, enough to put it out there. I assume He would feel the way my son would, when after the concert  I said” Oh, I had some good friends who  would have loved to see you”, and he would have said “Mom, I wish you had asked… I had four tickets and I didn’t know anyone in Buffalo! They just went to waste.”

You have not because you ask not. Think about it.

Forget about that! I just spent four days fighting the pain of what I didn’t know was a kidney stone. Ouch! The last time I went to the hospital in that much pain I came home with a 10lb son!

The emergency room was no different than I remembered it, fast tracked into a room for a five hr wait to see a doctor and get on some pain IV….I nearly fainted in the meantime, but at least I finally has some respite and I had a CAT scan that told me it was not an alien inside me eating my guts, because that is what it felt like!

OK, this has nothing to do with real estate.But you’ve got to admit, sometimes romance involves a great deal of pain before it passes through your life.

And please, especially if you live in Florida, drink 3 quarts (yes QUARTS!) of water a day to try and avoid these little monsters. I can tell you, you will never appreciate a lack of pain as much as you do after the darn thing has passed out of your body! Water, now….I mean it!

Two years after all the proposed help to the struggling housing market, all I see is more of the same and a continual slide in a downward direction. There have been no guidelines imposed to help cleanup the short sale, pre-foreclosure situation. There are many more people who have in the past year depleted their savings and 401K’s trying to hold onto their homes, only to be walking away from them bankrupt in the end.

There is no common sense at the top. The government sees everything as a way for them to impose themselves into the fray and act as though they have answers. All they have done is give modifications to the very people who could ill afford their homes in the first place, who put nothing down to begin with. Now they are defaulting on those modifications, or at least 90% seem to be.

The sad thing is they refused to give modifications to the people who put money into their loans originally, but perhaps have 750 plus credit scores, and not enough “hardship” but  instead of granting them a point or two lower on a mtg that was going to remain upside down for possibly years, they determined to squeeze them dry and tell them they couldn’t possibly do a thing to help them. After a year or two of watching everyone else get the help by stopping the payments to their mortgage companies, they feel as though the good are unrewarded for their sacrifice while the ones who broke their agreements are given a pass.

This is the most outrageous part of this whole mess. We are not helping those who could hold on to their homes and help save the neighborhoods,  instead making them look stupid for playing by the rules they signed up for. These are the people who should have gotten some help, and I am so tired of not seeing any come their way. As a country, we are now rewarding the illegal, the liar, and  the corrupt while slapping the face of the honest and true. I am glad I have already raised my children, because the values that will succeed in today’s world are not those I would ever have been able to teach them. I just hope they will live to see those values return to prominence in their lifetimes and those of their children, because a nation like ours cannot survive by adhering to the new and very ugly rules in play.

I happened to be stopped at a busy highway exit ramp today and watched a man with a sign asking for money. He had just finished a bag of chips and carelessly tossed it on the grassy area where he was standing while he begged for contributions. It wasn’t the fact that he was asking for help that bothered me, but the fact that tomorrow the city would be paying someone with a long pole to come and retrieve the garbage he had left while he was asking for help.

It occurred to me that he was creating work that was also going to cost the very same people he was asking for assistance. And truly it would be work that he was capable of doing. It was an interesting cycle of thought.  We are creating the messes that we are having to pay to clean up. I wonder that people receiving their support from the hard work of others often care very little about taking care of that with which they have been entrusted.

Spending someone else’s hard-earned money on my own needs includes a heavy duty guilt that I am not sure everyone shares. It has sometimes not been the case, but often carries a weight that I can’t wait to be free of and get back to providing for my own needs. We may all have times when we have to depend on the good graces of others, but I cannot imagine it as a lifestyle.

I think that is why we do tend to help out some people rather than others. We all have our own lens through which we see someone’s difficulties as being some what their own fault. If we have never walked in those shoes we see it one way, perhaps. If we have, we have even higher standards we expect them to live up to. I often wonder if one were to track the contributions to a person on the side of the road asking for money, how many different stories one would find as to why people stopped to offer money.

Well, most of the time. Actually, while all houses have occasional problems, it is a pretty wonderful thing to know you can offer someone a safe shelter for their family. And when problems arise, if they are doing their part in keeping the contract, it is really very easy to address any problems that arise with the building.

I have met some of the most considerate people by being their landlord. From the moment they were lead to me or my property, we usually both sensed this was not a chance meeting. We both felt a connection to the other. And it really never changed after that.

There are still male former tenants who call me on Mother’s Day, former tenants who call to check out the possibility of buying their own home one day, some who call just to check in and see how I am doing and some I call for the very same reason. We have shared a home. Not by living in it together, but by caring for it together. It would be an ideal model for parenting after a marriage has come apart and one no longer lives in the home. It is still a place where you worked, fixed things up, had hopes and dreams for the future. You have shared a “space” on this earth and there is a certain sacredness to that. If you remember that, even the bad memories (of a previous tenant who had to be evicted and still owes you back rent and damages for the house)can fade in the light of having a tenant who cares for the house as a home, as you do. That is a special relationship.

Everything starts with a plan. When you decide to get married and you want to throw a great party, you start about a year in advance to make a plan. When you want to start a new business, you make a plan, way before you go to anyone to try and borrow money for it.

So, when you want to go in a new direction in your life, shouldn’t you also start with a plan? The plan has to have elements that excite and propel you forward, a bit of a carrot hanging ahead of you. Without that, the plan will lack the drawing power to get you to work even harder to achieve it. You must be able to see, taste and smell the finish line. Great athletes visualize winning a long time before they reach their goal. They even envision the tough challenges that will occur and how they will overcome them.

I was speaking with a dear friend tonight and she was embracing the thought of a life plan for the different stages a woman goes through. Men do as well,I am sure, but differently and I can only speak as a woman. The children are raised and in their own life stream. Time to decide where I want to go from here.

I have said I am planning a big birthday celebration for a milestone next year. I want to incorporate singing some songs that have meaning to me, and have already begun gathering favorite songs and trying them out in the privacy of my car! I guess next will be the venue and how much I will need to start saving toward that. I am also beginning to let good friends know to save the date so they can come celebrate my life with me.

The food will come later…for some that might come first. It all has to do with our own priorities, and that is the fun of making a plan. It begins to show you what your priorities are, what motivates and drives you and comes easily for you. Also which things take more time and effort but are important as well.

Having people around me with boundless positive energy is my main focus for this year. Finding mentors and people to share deep thoughts with, to spur one another to greater heights within ourselves….that seems to be my main focus. Gathering those people together, as in a wonderful harvest I have been feeding and nurturing and watering for years. It is time to bring in the harvest and have an amazing feast together! Doesn’t that sound like a great plan?

I am so excited about having a new look! My son says I need a new picture, and I am thinking of adding some color to a washed out, mostly black wardrobe. Having bought a bright color to start repainting the living room, this seems to be the direction I go when I am cheering myself up.

Some people go get their hair and nails done but I seem to paint something. That was always the cheapest way for me to totally change my surroundings. As a former faux finisher, I realized how many women also saw that as the best quick fix. There are lessons online, in fact, I may just add a link to the lessons I used to teach locally. That would be kind of fun. I will ask my son how to go about that!

Nowadays, they even let you get tester sizes of paint for a couple dollars at most the big stores. I have painted whole pieces of furniture with those alone,,,it doesn’t get cheaper than that! So if you are feeling under the weather, spiritually or emotionally, think of a color that makes you smile and go buy a sample. If nothing else, paint it on a big poster board and move it around the room in different lights and times of day. You will feel much more confident when you purchase the gallon if you have lived with it for awhile and still love it. Not the time to be safe…try something you believe will give your heart zing! It’s just paint, and it can always be painted over. Try it. I give you permission to think outside the paint can!

I have been very absent and am just turning a corner where I see the sun and all  the colors I have so missed in the last months! I am ready to toss my black wardrobe in favor of turquoise, yellow, orange and red, colors that make me smile when I wear them. I bought a gallon(not even a sample first!) of an apricot toned gold to paint the living of the house I am in, and that is a huge celebratory moment for a woman who always paints her home no matter if it is a rental, a purchase or a lengthy stay at a good friend’s! I just have to have light and color around me….they are vitamins for my soul!

My son just gave me this incredible new page and I love it! It’s kind of gypsy/artist/crazy/movement…..It’s me!!

And I am ready to get back to the art of lifting our spirits with a few bits of wisdom culled from my adventures as a Realtor in the market of life! You can tell by my effusive use of exclamation points that I am back in the game. I was going to remove the last entry, which is kind of haunting and not uplifting, but it occurs to me that there may be another out there who has hit bottom and needs to know that there is light up ahead. I always told people I am the kind of person who deals with depression like I did swimming. When I got in over my head and feared drowning, I would raise my arms so I got to the bottom of the pool as fast as possible, because only then could I bend my knees and push off to get back to the air and light and oxygen!

I’m breathing again, thank you Lord. And it feels good!

If you wonder where I have been for the last three weeks or more, it’s because my negative mind has been winning the battle. It is like slipping into a dark chasm and having to climb out, feeling your way along, your fingers bleeding and sore as you try to grab hold of the rocks for support and proceed to some faint flicker of light up ahead.
The loss of a house to foreclosure has precipitated an entire chain of events I could never have foreseen, nor could anyone who has shared this rocky path with me. Our government’s failure to put their finger in the dike and stop the floodgates from overflowing, sweeping so many homeowners along with the rising tide, has been abysmal and as sure as if they had pointed a gun and pulled the trigger. None of the many stop gap measures they gave lip-service to had the backbone of true allegiance behind them, and were just a distraction to appease those who had no one close in the fray. Like those of us who had no son, no relative in Vietnam, it remained was a war we just read about and we formed our opinions from the stories we were told. If you had a relative in this losing battle, you could always pretend it was their own fault for taking the loan they couldn’t afford in the first place, but if you had an ounce of compassion, you could see that it wasn’t anything like you were being told by the news media.
Unfortunately, it is no where near over, and the down-slide continues throughout the land. The middle class we grew up with is disappearing off the face of our landscape, perhaps for good. The hopelessness that accompanies it is felt as deeply as the loss of a child in a war that should have never been fought, with an enemy whom we still cannot name because we fear it is an inside job. The scars are ugly and they will be evident for a long time to come.
Like a rape by a trusted family member, your common sense mind just keeps telling you that someone should have seen it coming, could somehow have intervened, before your life was changed forever. Your mind has a hard time grasping that it is your own fault and that those who could have prevented it looked the other way as they took care of their own needs, fueled by their own selfish greed.
We have raped the American Dream and most people who feel victimized may never have had money to give a Bernie Madoff, but they can certainly recognize a ponzi scheme after they have been in one.