Recipe for Inner Peace Tuesday, Jan 12 2021 

Yoga, meditation, and lots of prayer. These are a few of the ingredients in my personal recipe for inner peace. When I’m stressed, hurt, disappointed, or frustrated, I center myself. Still and quiet, peace comes to me.

Historically, humanity doesn’t remain peaceful for long. Eruptions arise within our inner circle and the world at large more often than not. Between COVID, political unrest, and domestic terrorism, this certainly is one of the more intense periods of disruption we’ve seen in the U.S. for some time.

How can we remain calm and peaceful with so much going on? I believe we can outweigh the negative with positivity and goodness. The more peaceful we are within ourselves, the more we extend that tranquility far out beyond us.

Here are a few suggestions for promoting personal peace. Focus on one or mix them up for a relaxing cocktail. I’d love to hear what you can add to this list.

  • Begin the day with a positive thought.
  • Practice daily relaxation in a quiet setting.
  • Meditate.
  • Pray. Pray. Pray.
  • Accept what can’t be changed.
  • Turn off the electronics.
  • Exercise.
  • Breathe consciously.
  • Forgive and ask to be forgiven.
  • Let go of petty disputes and disappointments.
  • Volunteer at a homeless shelter or food pantry.
  • Avoid books, movies, and online activities that include violence, inequality, cruelty, or profanity.
  • Surround yourself with gentle, loving people.
  • Attend in-person or virtual church services
  • Avoid gossip and unsubstantiated posts.
  • Give thanks for your many blessings.
  • Smile at strangers.
  • Treat others respectfully.
  • Check on elderly neighbors.
  • Read inspirational books and other writings.
  • Pray for peace.

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If I say I will pray for you, I really will. See my latest post, “Praying for Those on Your List,” on my other blog, Mary K Doyle Books.

Have you checked out my latest book, Inspired Caregiving?

Faith-Driven Election Wednesday, Nov 11 2020 

The chaos, division, and anger may not show it, but in my opinion, the 2020 Presidential Election has been one of the most faith-driven elections in U.S. history. Voters examined issues such as immigration, racism, abortion, domestic production, environmental health, and the economy in relation to their interpretation of biblical and religious teachings.

Ironically, most of us fell into one of two camps. We took the very same ideals and saw them from completely opposite view-points. “Fake News” was suspect on both sides. Neither trusted, or continues to trust, information from the other. Each side believes they know God’s truth. Many feared the outcome if one or the other candidate won, and some believe that the end-times is now quickly approaching.

With the rise of COVID-19, severely diminished employment opportunities, vast economic disparity, and friends and neighbors divided on hot issues, toxic slander, and ill perceptions of the candidates, as well as each other, boils and spews across everything from social media to neighborhoods and homes.

Perhaps our best reference for what to do at this time is Jesus’ teaching about the greatest commandments. Jesus said, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” He continued by saying the second is to love our neighbor as our self (Matthew 22:34-40).

Following this guide, we should pray and listen to the Lord all day every day and treat each other with compassion and kindness. We also can strive to live each moment as if it is our last, which, for any number of reasons, may truly be. That would mean to avoid causing pain, injustice, or insult to anyone or anything at all times.

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Have you seen the posts on my other blog, “New Blood Test For Alzheimer’s Disease,” “Compassionate and Devout Saint Margaret,” or “Through the Church Doors?

Check out my recently updated website with information on all of my books.

Our 1950-Early 1960s Moms Wednesday, Sep 16 2020 

One of my many blessings is a group of women who I’ve known since high school. Susie, Sally, Mary Ellen, and I have supported one another through the ups and downs of life for almost 50 years. As an added bonus, we gained the wisdom of each other’s parents. All of our parents acted as our bumpers in the bowling alley of life. My friends and I could go to any parent, any time.

With the recent passing of Susie’s mother, our last living parent, I was reminded of the responsibilities of women in our early childhood. Homemaking was an exhausting full-time job back then. Mothers had little, if any, time of their own. Their life was about service to family.

When I was a child, visions of my mother included seeing her standing at the washing machine, ironing board, or wearing an apron at the stove. Mom was always working. She didn’t have the conveniences of a microwave, dishwasher, permanent press clothes, or even the ability to drive a car. She walked to the grocery store dragging her folding shopping cart and kids in toe.

Women’s work was labor intensive. Food was cooked from scratch, dishes were washed by hand, clothes needed knuckle-bleeding scrubbing on washboards before tossing into the washing machine, socks were darned, everything had to be ironed, and shoes were polished weekly. The work was never-ending.

Some vendors went directly to the homemaker. Vacuum cleaner, encyclopedia, magazines, and cleaning supply salesmen knocked on the door and gave their sales pitches. Milkmen dropped off the heavy glass containers of milk. Some vendors strolled the streets with push carts or small trucks while ringing bells or calling out their goods such as rags, fresh vegetables, and even bleach for sale, as well as knife sharpening.

During the school year, children came home for lunch. Mothers had only a couple of hours for their morning chores before they needed to prepare our lunches, clean up, and send us back to school for the afternoon. No doubt, it seemed that they barely got us out the door when we returned looking for snacks, needing help with homework, and asking the all-important question, “What’s for Dinner?”

What seemed like most of my childhood, my mother was pregnant. Mom was accomplishing her duties in hot summer kitchens and chilly winters with a growing belly. She had five live births and one stillborn, a total of 54 months of pregnancy in 13 years, which wasn’t unusual at that time. Reliable birth control was not available and any attempt at preventing pregnancy in our Catholic families was frowned upon.

One of my favorite memories of my mother is of her ironing in the living room and watching soap operas, with me at her side while I “ironed” doll clothes on my little ironing board. I was raised to be a wife and mother, just like Mom. However, I had no idea how exhausting her days were. Some women worked outside of the home in limited positions, such as nursing, secretarial, and teaching. However, once married, most “retired.” Wife and mother was their job.

Through all of this, women of the 50s/60s were required to look their best at all times. Most wore (circle or sheath/wiggle) dresses, pencil skirts, stockings, and pumps or stiletto shoes year-round, although pants were becoming popular on occasion. Waists were cinched with a belt or sash. Undergarments included girdles, bullet bras, garter belts, slips, and scratchy petticoats to make their circle dresses stand out.

When out of the house, women were certain every hair was in place and makeup was applied, especially lipstick. Accessories included pearls, clip-on earrings, broaches, gloves, a clutch purse, and often, a hat. Little boots could be worn in winter snow storms, but their outfits were designed for beauty, not comfort or warmth.

On behalf of all the “children” my age, we are most grateful to all the loving and hardworking moms. Their attention to providing us with nurturing homes is gratefully appreciated.

***

Photos: Mary, Susie, Sally, Mary Ellen, 2020. Shopping cart and washboard. My parents, John and Pat Doyle, 1956. My grandmother (Florence McCarthy), mother, and Aunt Marlene, 1963.

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Have you read, Love from a Distance,” my blog post on COVID restrictions on families visiting loved ones in memory care homes, on my other blog, Mary K Doyle Books?

Are You Sympathetic, Empathetic–or Neither? Thursday, Sep 3 2020 

“I know exactly how you feel?” We often say this, but is it really true?

Few situations are identical. However, it’s easier for us to sympathize with someone whose experience is similar to one we’ve been through.

I have great sympathy for pregnant women in the Midwest this summer. With the anxieties of COVID and the social unrest in addition to the challenges of pregnancies during the hottest summer on record, these women must be pillars of strength and endurance. I’m certainly not pregnant now! My pregnancies are long-passed. But I can relate to the discomfort of summer pregnancies while in the midst of frightening circumstances. I really do sympathize with them.

In contrast, I empathize with the struggles of people of color. I’m not Black or Brown, so I can’t know how it really is for them. I can only imagine how it might feel to be Black and entering a store with all white people or question why it appears to me that I’m treated differently.

Sympathy and empathy are similar yet distinctly different words. When sympathetic, we relate emotionally to someone from a point of experience. We share feelings with another person.

Empathy is emotionally distant. We may imagine being in a particular situation but have not experienced it personally. We can’t really know the emotional impact to things we have no reference to ourselves.

If we’ve never been without a meal, how can we know how it is to have little to no food to feed our family for weeks on end? If we haven’t fled our home town in fear of our safety, can we really envision the desperation of leaving all of our friends and family behind to trek hundreds of intensely hot and terrifying miles to seek asylum in a strange land? We don’t personally know the suffering that comes with such a decision.

Our world is currently crying for empathy. People are literally shouting to be heard, to be understood. Everyone benefits from good listening skills, imagining how it might feel to walk in our neighbor’s flip flops, and taking other people’s feelings to heart. Peace will come if we are still and quiet long enough to be even a little empathetic.

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Check out my post, Riches to Rags, on St. Francis and the sweet town of Assisi, Italy and also my website for all of my books.

Who Knows the Truth? Tuesday, Jul 21 2020 

Throughout the world, and certainly in the United States of America, we are fiercely fighting for truth. However, our versions of truth, justice, and equality are polarized to a point that is exploding.

We hold on to our truths dearly, but how long has it been since we strove to understand rather than shout our perception of right? And when was the last time we reviewed the bases of our own truths?

Truth is defined as the actual state of a matter, a verified or indisputable fact, proposition, or principle. It’s a body of real things, events, and facts, a property of being in accord with fact or reality.  

We accept our truths based on research, unique experiences, and the wisdom of political, religious, and social leaders as well as our mentors. All of these factors bring us to a personal truth, one that may be quite different from our neighbors. In addition, we humans are flawed and perhaps all of us are biased to some level, which compromises our ability to be completely truthful.

It’s important to recognize how much we reflect the leaders we follow. These leaders influence our words and actions. We repeat and imitate what they preach.

A trustworthy leader exemplifies vital qualities and characteristics such as honesty, integrity, transparency, confidence, commitment, accountability, empowerment, empathy, compassion, and vision. Strong decision-making capabilities and communication skills are important. Trustworthy leaders promote unity and team-work. They substantiate their facts, express honest opinions as such, and do not exaggerate, distort, or take facts out of context.

America was born on radical ideas, cultural diversity, and a wide range of beliefs. The promise that we will be tolerant and accepting of these differences is what makes our country so beautiful, exciting, and fascinating and offers opportunities to learn and grow from one another.

If we want peace at home and throughout the world, we all must step back, breathe slowly, listen to all points of view, and respond with compassion toward our brothers and sisters. And we need to seriously consider the leaders we believe in, trust, and identify with.

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Check out, God’s Kingdom Here and Now and First Place Award for The Alzheimer’s Spouse on my other blog, Mary K Doyle Books.

Masked Since Antiquity Tuesday, Jun 30 2020 

Mandated or recommended, masks are the talk of the day. Do we have the right to choose wearing them or not? Which ones are best? Why do we dislike them? And do we really need them?

Personally, I see mask wearing like cigarette smoking. I understand the desire and choice to smoke but I hate the smell, and I don’t believe anyone has the right to inflect their second-hand smoke on me and my health. In the same way, I understand the discomfort and inconvenience of mask wearing, but I don’t believe anyone has the right to spread their potentially deadly germs in my face. If they won’t wear a mask, they can remain in their home.

Since the Stone Age, masks have been worn by nearly all cultures. The oldest known mask is from 7000 BC. Traditional ones were used for protection, disguise, hunting, entertainment, punishment, membership in secret societies, celebration, healings, and rituals. They were made from any number of materials including leather, wood, and feathers. I have one from Hawaii made from volcanic ash and covered in carved symbols.


One of the few collections I have is a wall grouping of masks, carvings, and a painting I’ve acquired from my travels. In addition to the one made from ash, the collection includes a ritual mask from Papua, New Guinea purchased in Hawaii and one made by the Incas and purchased in Aruba, festival masks from Venice, Italy, face carvings from Alaska and Jamaica, a totem from Hawaii, a leather work from Portugal, and a painting of a turtle on tapas, a type of fabric carefully and arduously made from softened wood bark. My attraction to these items stemmed from their craftmanship, symbolism, and personal contact with the artist or vendor.

When I purchased the ritual masks, I was assured that they had been cleansed. The spirits of the dead or other beings were no longer attached, so I needn’t be concerned about carrying those spirits home with me. That statement opened up a greater fascination and appreciation of the artifacts. I had no knowledge of the historical or cultural meaning of them or that death masks were created in the likeness of the deceased.

Some ritual masks, such as those in West Africa, are used to communicate with ancestral or animal spirits. They can be quite symbolic. For example, closed eyes may show tranquility while bulging foreheads means wisdom.

Today we are familiar with masks of protection such as those for welders, gas masks, police shields, oxygen masks, and our all so familiar, medical and health masks. I don’t plan on adding any of these to my wall.

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Have you read “Angels to Guard You Wherever You Go” and “Easy Test with Big Answers” on Mary K Doyle Books?

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Open Our Ears and Hearts Tuesday, Jun 2 2020 

I am so, so very sad. Our country is in serious trouble. Americans are suffering on multiple levels. Many were barely earning enough to pay their basic living expenses before the pandemic which then caused illness in unprecedented numbers and record-breaking levels of unemployment. And now we are seeing rioting, looting, and destruction of property and even life.

I’m so sad and disturbed that

  • Racism continues. Our country was founded on the promise of equality but the reality always has been otherwise.
    • Let’s make an honest effort to treat one another with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.
  • George Floyd’s life was snuffed out by a cruel police officer while other officers failed to stop him.
    • As a country, let’s demand all those in roles of authority treat everyone with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.
  • Good police officers who truly serve and protect suffer the backlash caused by bad cops.
    • Let’s treat police officers and those in roles of authority with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.
  • Towns that strive to provide clean, inviting shopping districts for patrons are being defaced by graffiti. And shop owners who labor long hours and invest personal finances to provide employment and items for sale to their neighbors suffer destruction and looting by rioters.
    • Let’s assist these towns and shop owners with cleanup and patronage treating all owners and employees with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.
  • Protestors who attempt to declare an important message and prompt positive change are being sabotaged by violent, terrorist thieves.
    • Let’s honestly listen, strive to understand the protestors’ issues, and treat peaceful protestors with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.
  • Innocent people are brutalized and even killed by rioters caught up in chaotic frenzy.
    • Let’s lookout for and protect one another and treat everyone with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.

2020 is progressing as a trying year, for sure. But there also are so many lessons to be learned. Problems don’t vanish without being attended to. The longer problems are ignored, the greater the frustration and response. Let’s strive to open our ears and hearts to one another and treat everyone with compassion, respect, and equality regardless of race, religion, gender identity, or age.

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Why We Suffer? Check out my post on Mary K Doyle Books.

TP Deal Breaker Thursday, Apr 23 2020 

I’ll share a little personal story with you, one that is often passed around the family. I’m a kindergarten dropout. The deal breaker was the school’s toilet paper. It was too scratchy. Once I tried that paper, I told my mother I’d never go back to school again.

The school I was supposed to go to burned down and was being rebuilt (Our Lady of the Angels, Chicago, IL), which actually was the cause of my anxiety and school. In the meantime, I was sent to a public school, a very long walk away. (It seemed like five miles but probably was one.) My mother felt much the same way I did about sending me to school and dragging my baby sister along for the walk, so she allowed me to stay home.

I’m hearing lots of TP discussions. People can’t get the good stuff, or any at all. Many overbought and are hoarding (bad karma), so now there are shortages. Who would have thought one of our challenges today would be getting toilet paper?

My ex-mother-in-law once told me when she was a child, her mother sent her to the fruit stands to ask for the papers that oranges were wrapped in. They preferred that over the Sears catalog, a common alternative. Imagine using that stiff, inked paper on your behind?

Only the wealthy early Roman citizens had it better. They used rose petals. Most other Romans used public potties and wiped themselves with sticks with a sea sponge on the end, that also was used publicly. Throughout history, and still today, people simply used their hand. Scots are said to have used sheep fur, sailors used the knotted end of a line (Yowie), Native American Indians wiped with moss and leaves, and early Americans used corn cobs.

Now wouldn’t you rather use any kind of toilet paper than those substitutes?

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See my latest post on Mary K Doyle Books, “Shopping in an Apron Mask.” And visit my website.

Six Feet of Love Thursday, Mar 26 2020 

I’m a hugger in withdrawal. I hug—everyone. I hug people I interview for stories, attendees walking into and leaving my presentations, acquaintances, and neighbors, in addition to family and friends. I’m comforted by physically being close to people, especially the ones I love.

A 20 second hug, the same amount of time we are advised to wash our hands, can reduce stress, pain, depression, anxiety, and fear and show support. I NEED those hugs. They are like fuel to me.

Yet, with COVID-19 looming over us, hugs risk extensive illness, or worse. I certainly understand the dangers of the embrace at this time but fear it will be the way of the future. Except for people we live with, hugs, as well as handshakes that connects us, may be joys and health benefits of the past.

So, at least for now, I promise to (do my best to) maintain the designated 6 feet of distance. Sadly, I will resist getting physically close. I care about you that much.

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See recent posts on my other blog, Mary K Doyle Books; Peace is a Prayer Away, COVID-19 Caregiving Challenges, and The Lord Be With You.

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Photo: Geese Keeping the Acceptable Social Distance from One Another on the Fox River, Batavia, IL

Dreaming of the Dead Monday, Jan 27 2020 

The theory is that we can learn much about ourselves by analyzing our dreams. And although there are many suggestions as to what images mean, only we can know the true significance. What can be a terrifying symbol to one person can be reassuring to another.

Recurring dreams and topics are common. I often dream of babies. People give me their babies to hold, rock, feed, care for.

I also dream of the dead. I believe the “dreams” offer important messages from loved ones who have passed away. Sometimes, souls simply show up to say “Hello.” They are often smiling or even laughing, and I’m reassured to see them this way.

Lately, some of my dreams have a different twist. The dead truly are just that. In every appearance friends and relatives who are no longer physically walking this earth are dead in the dream. They tredge zombie-like, or not at all. They do not speak or react.

As I’ve written about in other posts, my husband, Marshall, passed away last March. I also speak and write about a fatal illness, hear stories of those who have the disease and are fading from this life, and learn of residents in memory care homes who are no longer with us. Perhaps, all of these factors contribute to my morbid dreams.

Or mayber there’s a deaper meaning. A typical interpretation of death is change, rebirth, or the need to get rid of dead weight. There have been many changes in my life over the past year, so perhaps this is the gist of these nigh visions.

Here are some of my latest ones.

  • I was walking up and down stairways in apartment buildings with Marshall. Dead Marshall. He walked but was silent, grey, and stumbled along. I had to guide and hold him up. – I believe I understand the significance of this dream as it occurred during a time I was considering a permanent home for his remains and where I would eventually join him.
  • I sat at a dinner table with the living and the dead, many dead. Most I recognized, and those who were deceased in my dream truly are gone. I was disturbed because when I’ve dreamed of them in the past, they looked alive and spoke to me but did not on this occasion.
  • In this dream, everyone was “alive.” My family was in a large home that was under massive renovation and we were selling. My parents, who passed away 20 years ago were there, and my cousin, Cathy, who also is deceased, walked in with another cousin. Cathy was beautiful, happy, and it was wonderful to see her.
  • My mother suggested that I drive her turquoise car around the corner to go to school. After class, I returned to the parking lot to discover that her car was missing. I was so upset that I borrowed her car when I could have walked and now it was gone. But my mother didn’t care at all since she never used it. In fact, my mother never did drive when she was alive. — Maybe my mother is encouraging me to get rid of more things that no longer have a use.

If you like analyzing dreams, I’m interested in your thoughts. What do you think they indicate, and what are some of your recurring dreams? I’d love to hear from you.

***

Did you see my last post on my other blog, Sacred Water?

You can see all my posts, random thoughts, and presentation dates on my author Facebook page.

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