Life lessons are hard.  And, while they may not get any easier as we get older, I do believe that we get better at handling them. 

      Earlier this week, I took a day to myself.  It’s rare that I get one – a whole day to do whatever I want without any obligations to fulfill or commitments to finalize.

    I decided to do some early Christmas shopping and stopped at Old Navy, Pier 1 Imports and finally, Linens n’ things to see what was up for grabs.  I was in a really good mood.  I felt like I was accomplishing a lot, and being a type A personality, found scratching lines off my to-do list almost as fulfilling as climbing Mt.Everest or winning the Nobel Peace Prize.

   So, I made my stops and was heading out of the parking lot.  At the same time that I went to make a right turn, the man across the street in a white pick-up truck started racing to turn left in front of me.  He had no blinker signal on, and since I had right of way, I proceeded without giving it a second thought.  He became irate, and while stopped at the next intersection, he pulled up alongside the right side of my vehicle, rolled down his window, and began beating my passenger window with his fists screaming obscenities.

   I hurriedly made a left turn away from him, and proceeded to process what had just occurred.  My immediate reaction was to turn around, follow him, get his license number, and call the police.  Instead, I continued driving ahead slowly, breathing deeply.  I listened to my instincts and took, what I felt, was the best course of action.  I went home; I said a prayer of thanks it wasn’t any worse, and I said a prayer for that man.

    I believe I made the right choice.  That whole experience really gave me considerable pause. It made me remember that as we go along living our lives, we have no idea what other people are dealing with or going through or feeling desperate about.  Since that day, I have slowed down, and am consciously taking the time to make better choices in my own life.  Instead of attempting to conquer Rome in a day, I am trying to invest in whatever moment I am in, rather than the one that just happened or the one that’s about to occur.

    Just this morning, I purposely planned to leave early to drop my daughter off at school. As a result, our morning drive was much more pleasant.  We talked; we laughed; I had time to let several cars go ahead of me.  It was calm and present and meaningful.  It brought to mind my experience with that man in the white pick-up truck.

     At the time, I felt shock and outrage, but by this morning, I just felt sorry.  Sorry I hadn’t slowed down sooner or taken a pause or just stopped altogether and recognized that for some reason, that day, that man needed to go first. Because, after all, it isn’t about the destination, it’s about the journey, and remembering that the choices we make create a ripple affect that extend way beyond ourselves.

      Okay, I’ve got a beef to pick with all those folks out there who don’t believe in r-s-v-p-ing (and for those of you who didn’t bother doing so recently, you know who you are).  If I invite you to a party, the least you can do is just call the number on the invite and let me know whether or not you can come.  I obviously thought enough about you to include you on the invite list, it only seems right, in my mind, that you should respond accordingly. 

     Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I also still firmly believe in the lost art of letter writing. If you send me an email birthday card, that’s great and sincerely appreciated.  However, I still expect to get one in the mail that you personally selected yourself with me in mind. I still want to know that you took the time to peruse the card aisle until you came upon the card that perfectly conveyed the deeply-felt sentiments you felt compelled to share with me on my special day. Hey, I do it for all the important people in my life, is it asking too much to hope for the same in return?

        I feel much the same about thank you cards – thank you very  much!  When I pick out a gift for someone, I do not “re-gift,” nor do I run out in a rush and pick something up just because I need some item to give.  No, I take a little time and actually enjoy and employ the art of gift-giving by going to several stores, if need be, until I find the perfect present for that special someone appropriate for whatever occasion is being celebrated. I delight in the selection process of picking the prettiest gift bag and bow that I believe will strike the recipient’s senses with a spark of excitement and joy.  I then carefully engage in the gift-wrapping ritual with delight and investment. (I’m not making this up – I really do).

     So, when one goes to such trouble to bring you a special gift, do you not owe them a lovely hand-written thank you note in return? Sure, I’ll accept, read and appreciate your 10-second thank-you email or voicemail message, but understand that I will still be expecting a hand-written thank you note that displays the same amount of care that was put toward selecting your perfect gift.  And until I receive it, all other ‘thank you’s’ pale in comparison, and therefore in my book, really don’t count.

       All in all, it really boils down to a matter of respect, doesn’t it?  I was recently working out, and another woman who was also working out struck up a conversation with my fitness coach.  The fitness coach respectfully included me in the conversation, but the other woman, whose name I still don’t know, would not even look at me. Not only did she ignore every word I said, but she literally would not acknowledge my existence visually; it was like I didn’t exist.  In fact, it encouraged me to talk even more just to make sure I wasn’t creating some scenario in my head.  I can assure you, no matter how much I talked, she never once, not once, made eye contact or even glanced at a body part.  There is no question it was a purposeful choice.  This kind of behavior  seems to be a growing trend in our society, and one I find personally abhorrent.

    There is nothing worse than indifference (or purposely not acknowledging another individual’s existence).  It is amazing to me how little acts of kindness like a thoughtful gift, personalized thank you note, or r-s-v-p to a party, go such a long way.  They are acts of respect.  They tell the other person that they matter; that despite your busy schedule or bad mood or sinus infection, that they were important enough for you to take that extra step.  

      I swear I am not trying to be holier-than-thou.  I am quite certain, I have erred on one of the above before and probably will do so again.  But I can honestly say, I would never do it purposely. So, just for the record in the future, if you invite me to a party, I will do my very best to r-s-v-p in a timely manner.  And if you give me a lovely gift, you will receive a hand-written thank you note in return.  And should you ever engage in conversation with me, even if we have never met, I will look at you, acknowledge your contribution and introduce myself….. and if I don’t, slap me…..hard.

     I have actually spent entire overnights anticipating my alarm going off.  No wonder I’m so exhausted. And trust me, I’m not making it up; in fact, anyone who really knows me can attest to the fact that the probability of this being true is actually quite high – Brenda, Rhonda, are you there???  Paranoia strikes deep. Sometimes, I’m certain it’s my middle name.

    But this morning, I am happy to say, I am whistling quite a different tune.  I’m feeling very pleased with myself --- just pink, pink with pleasure, yes, indeedy.  Full, full, full to the rim with me. Why, you might ask (or not) --- I finally have taken concrete steps in my lifelong quest to getting healthy.  I mean I have always been active.  There is nothing more invigorating than a good, long, brisk walk.

       We have a walking path around the perimeter of our subdivision and I frequent it as often as possible - sometimes twice a day.  In fact, for anyone who’s taking notice, you can very likely determine the plight of my mental state any given day by how many times you catch me on the walking path.  Once:  normal;  twice: either feeling really fat or really stretched;  three times: well, things ‘ain’t’ looking so good, let’s just put it that way. 

       But for the most part, my walks are a solitary ritual that I treasure.  I refer to them as “my daily escape” – a time when no one can find me, or at the very least, talk to me.  It’s my one opportunity to turn off the world’s demands, and think through my day; no doorbells, no phones, no voices (except the incessant one in my head) – just me communing with nature (or mentally arguing with my mother).

       Truth is, some people talk to a psychologist when they need to work things out, or a church minister, priest or counselor; others work out at a gym or take yoga classes.  But I, in addition to all of the above, find that walks are my therapy.  Ideally, I love to take one in the morning by myself and then one in the evening with my family.  The former helps me work stuff out; the latter helps my family work stuff out.  These walks begin and end the day beautifully, and I really couldn’t live without them.

     With that said, I was so excited a week ago after taking one of my walks, that  I drove my little self (or big, it’s all relative) over to Wal-Mart and spent 93-dollars on vitamins and hair-care products.  I know, that sounds extreme, but just hear me out.  The hair-care products were long overdue; I have excessively dry hair and I am pleased to say that after one week of hot-oil-treatments and henna conditioners with natural placenta, my locks have never looked better, (good for me!!!).  I can also say that one week after downing ten vitamins a day ranging from omega-3’s to co-enzyme Q-10 and soy isoflavones, I am feeling more energized than ever and ready to conquer the world!

      The downside is that all that vitamin-taking is a bit time consuming and often makes me feel nauseous. But the important thing is, I am taking stock.  I am supplementing my diet, exercising regularly and determining myself to ‘live in the moment’……… now, if I could only break that sugar addiction and shopping obsession, I’d be set.