Live and Learn New Mexico!

Usually, whenever I get messages from birds, they are positive, affirming that I am headed in the right direction. My bird friends fly overhead or sit on wires and say hey as we drive by. A nod from a raven is a good thing. Lately, however, it seems like their messages are telling me to stay away --away from what, I don't always know.  The first and loudest incident I'm still thinking about was with a raven that hung out at the local day-care I worked at for two really long, discouraging days.  Whenever I was out on the playground with the kids, this huge bird would fly down from its tree, touch the sand briefly near me, cawing loudly. I asked another caregiver if this was normal. She said it lived in tree nearby but never landed like that. And it wasn't usually so vocal.  At the end of day two, my second and last, I knew I was in the wrong place -- for many reasons.  The raven confirmed it. At day's end it flew from the back of the building, over the ro...

I started to post on Facebook an update to my mental health adventure but decided instead to blog about it.  The last five years have been a blur. They included finding myself living alone on the homestead with no car, which resulted in extreme loneliness. Ironically, I'm not alone in that respect; there are way too many lonely people, and that is a condition that is bad for our overall health. It resulted, for me, in serious anxiety and panic attacks and hypertension.  I coped in many ways... I paced my one-acre lot, burning the anxious energy,  gathering rocks, filling my pockets with them. Rocks have great energy and they heal. My home is covered with them.  Collecting rocks led to making art with them. I started wrapping rocks in my own way, and I called it all "good energy rock art".  I shared my love of rocks on Facebook and found many new friends who encouraged and inspired me. I didn't feel so lonely. Another hobby that helped me ...

My life has been a full one partly because of all the dogs I've had the honor of knowing over the years. When I was growing up, my parents had black and tan dachshunds, Gretchen and Charley. After all the kids moved out and they retired, black labs became their dog of choice. They were particular.  I wasn't. I knew there were many lost, lonely and lovable pups in shelters and I vowed I would always adopt. And that's what I did. Names were important. I had to have a dog named Buster and I did. I knew Buster would be with me a long time. He lived 18 happy years. Otherwise, I played it by ear on names. There was Saki, Pogi, Mutt and many more. Last September, on my dad's birthday, a black lab puppy just showed up at my door. He stayed two nights and, when I had decided his name was Spook, he disappeared. I haven't seen him since. Spook indeed. About a week before Spook's visit, I'd been thinking of names for dogs, jotting them down on the back of a ...

I just worked my first -- and my last -- two days at a preschool. I learned a lot but most importantly, I learned that I cannot work with so many little ones. I'm too old and arthritic to do even the fun stuff. I also learned a lot about early childhood education that I was unaware of before. One thing I learned is that the caregivers who work in the business are knowledgeable about raising kids.  They do a good job socializing them and helping them learn to clean after themselves, use the bathroom, etc.  We tend to think of preschool that way. The teachers are parental figures. I held hands and walked with several sweet souls during afternoon playtime, and I was sad to sense anxiety in so many. Some craved my sole attention, asking question after question, grabbing my hand like it was a lifeline. Some followed me everywhere. Some cried if I came near or even looked at them.  I felt powerless to help them, feeling like I could use the help of a counselor.  We are pay...

Over the years, as I've blogged, I've talked about gun control without ever reaching any answers or solutions. My concern with guns is that they kill, and death by gun has reached a record high in Abq. It is an almost daily occurrence. I do not own a gun but seems like everyone else does. Lots of people tell me they have one for protection. I find that thought very scary. Then I realized that I was approaching it from the wrong perspective. I wasn't fighting against the situation; I was fighting against guns. I was getting political, and I try not to do politics. Kindness campaign  What if we looked at it from a kindness perspective? That is, what if instead of trying to enact legislation to contain violence, we simply start raising our kids to be kind and learn to solve problems peacefully? I've been promoting kindness for years. This idea makes sense. We could work in the schools, helping kids learn to be sensitive to others and to solve life's problem...

Simone Biles, gymnast extraordinaire, didn't go to the Olympics to win. She didn't even go to compete. She went to share an important message.  Soon after her arrival to Japan, she made it clear that she was not going to fight through the mental and emotional pain she has long suffered in order to compete. She is not going to worry that she won't win. The message I am getting from all this is that it isn't important to win. Winning won't make you happy. Life is more meaningful than that.  Simone went to the Olympics to heal -- herself and others who suffer anxiety from the very thing they once found peace doing.  She wants to show that we need to support each other and celebrate the healing that gymnastics and other physical activities can provide.   Perhaps the Olympics could change. Instead of honoring the winners of a sport, we honor the sport itself and its healing powers. We share best practices. I believe, too, that Simone is one of many light ...

When I was a kid in elementary school, I talked with my Catholic best friend about suicide. I don't know why we talked about such a heavy subject at that tender age but I do remember her telling me that her church believed that the act of suicide was a sin. I wondered why someone would be punished for this sin. Would knowing it is a sin really deter anyone who was thinking of ending their life? I couldn't believe it would.  In 1980, the Church admitted that there was a mental health component to suicide. Society in general tends to tie suicide to depression and anxiety. We think there is something wrong with a suicidal person. We don't consider that perhaps the suicidal person is just as sane as anyone; they just see the Universe in a more inclusive way and understand that perhaps committing suicide is just moving on.  I'm proposing that it is actually sanity in a way, that suicidal people are just tired of this existence. They know there are other existences. We think ...