#reminder to self i need to stop procrastinating and schedule an appointment for an eye exam

[gardencityvegans]

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18

https://www.thefullhelping.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/weekend_reading.jpg

A friend of mine told me that he recently went to a conference where all of the attendees seemed to be talking about perfectionism, in spite of that fact that it wasn’t the conference theme. They were discussing it as people who had been susceptible to impossible standards in the past, but now counted themselves lucky to have let perfectionism go.

As we were talking, it occurred to me that I haven’t thought about perfectionism in a long time, though it had a hold on me for years. Even after I stopped trying to do everything “right,” perfectionism (and to some extent, being “Type A”) was a big part of my identity. I called myself a “recovering perfectionist,” which was truthful, but in retrospect I think it was also my way of continuing to identify with perfectionism and communicate it to others. I didn’t want to be subject to oppressive standards anymore, but I hadn’t yet figured out who I was without them.

In the end, perfectionism exited my life out of necessity; I untangled from it because I didn’t have a choice. Living with bouts of depression and anxiety in the last few years has meant letting go of a lot of my self-imposed notions of what constitutes productivity, success, or a day well spent.

A common experience of depression, I think, is that small, routine asks can suddenly seem insurmountable: doing laundry, cleaning up, running errands. This would have sounded unbelievable to me at one point in my life, when these kinds of to-dos were just afterthoughts, but now I know what it’s like to struggle with the everyday.

I’m thinking back to an afternoon two summers ago that illustrates this perfectly: my anxiety had been particularly bad, and I’d been paralyzed by procrastination all day. By dinnertime I was genuinely proud of myself for having gotten out of the house to pick up groceries and mail a package. This was a radically different measure of productivity than I was used to, and it didn’t matter: I was relieved to have done something, anything.

I’m in a different place now, capable of fuller days, but my perspective remains valuably altered by that experience. I don’t wake up with a fixed agenda anymore. I don’t plan on doing more than I know I can handle. If I notice that tasks remain undone everyday on my modest to-do list, I take it as a sign that I need to plan on doing less, rather than wondering why I can’t do more.

I’ve learned that my capacity for doing and my tendency to get overwhelmed ebb and flow. Sometimes they shift for reasons that I can identify, like how I’m feeling physically or whether something has made me anxious. Sometimes they change suddenly and for no apparent reason. I don’t try to bully myself out of feeling overwhelmed; rather, I ask what would make me feel calmer and more steady.

I often remind myself of a mantra that my friend Maria gave herself when her MS symptoms started keeping her from the pace and routines that had become customary: “better than before.” The origin of this mantra was an ongoing struggle to keep tidy the home she shared with her young son. As Maria’s “functional self” receded, she noticed the presence of another self, who “though less physically versatile, was stronger than I ever could have imagined from the perspective of the one who functioned’ throughout the day. She began to show me things my functional self simply missed.”

One of those things, she goes on to say,

was to be able to notice when I was completely out of energy to exert myself. This might be when something was halfway wiped, or not wiped at all, but I had somehow managed to put some things away. She would know to say that’s enough for now. And she was very clever about what would satisfy my functional self, who would never have been satisfied with that’s enough. It sobered that functional self to learn when the diagnosis of MS finally came that the “forcing” she had habituated herself to was the worst thing to do if she wanted to preserve her physical abilities.  But as the saying goes, it’s really true that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. So my deeper wiser identity came up with something even more ingenious than this looming threat:

Better Than It Was.

Or, (depending on the context): Cleaner Than It Was.

These two statements became my mottos. And they still are. They allowed me to learn to pace myself while still satisfying that Functional Self that I was making what she considered progress through the daily requirements of life, even if many of them were slowed to a crawl or a downright standstill.  Better Than It Was.

Maria’s story is uniquely her own, and my own sense of high functionality has shifted for reasons that are uniquely mine. But her clever motto has given me great comfort since I first read about it on her blog. So, too, does this quote from Melody Beattie: “Our best yesterday was good enough; our best today is plenty good too.”

The best thing about letting go of perfectionism is developing a capacity to recognize that “our best” can look very different from moment to moment. There’s no longer an immovable standard of output. I wish that I’d been able to pry my ego away from productivity and being busy on my own, rather than being forced to reckon with a dramatic shift in my capacities, but in the end, it doesn’t matter how I got here. What matters is that I’m learning to be grateful for what I can do, rather than fixating on what I haven’t, or can’t.

Throughout all of this, I’ve had the tremendous luxury of being able to adjust my schedule and responsibilities in a way that allowed me to create a dynamic “new normal.” Not every person has the space to do this, depending on his or her professional and personal circumstances. I recognize and respect the many men and women who go through periods of depression and anxiety while also keeping up with fixed schedules. And of course I worry sometimes about my DI year: now that I’m learning how to take gentle care in the moments when I need to, what will it be like to temporarily lose control of my schedule and workload?

I don’t have an answer, but to some degree I suspect that I don’t need one. My routine next year will be a challenge, but so long as I can do my best without succumbing to the influence of perfectionism, I know I’ll be OK. Much as I’ve made my schedule more realistic, letting go of perfectionism has been an inside job. It resides in recognizing how futile perfectionism is, how it discourages me needlessly while keeping me from recognizing the good that I can do, and maybe have done (another observation that’s prompted by Beattie).

Here’s to a week—and a month, and a summer, and a year—of doing my best and trusting that my best is enough. I wish the same for you, too. And here’s the weekly roundup of links.

Recipes

I would never think to put fruit in a tabbouleh, but I love Katie’s creative mixture of blueberries, parsley, mint, and quinoa—I’d actually love to try it as a savory breakfast dish!

A very different kind of quinoa salad, but no less delicious: a curried mixture with red cabbage, raisins, and pumpkin seeds from Melanie of Veggie Jam.

Two recipes for summer entertaining caught my eye this past week. The first is these show-stopping chipotle cauliflower nachos from my friend Jeanine of Love & Lemons.

Number two is this platter of green summer rolls with mango miso sauce from Anya of Lazy Cat Kitchen. The sauce alone is calling to me, but I also love all of the tender green veggies here (asparagus, zucchini, broccolini).

Finally, a summery vegan pasta salad with creamy avocado dressing—perfect timing, as pasta salad’s been on my mind lately (and I may just have a recipe coming soon!).

Reads

1. This article is about a month old, but it’s very on-topic for today’s post: why you should stop being so hard on yourself, via The New York Times.

2. Ed Yong’s new article on the threat of imminent global pandemics frightened me (and the blurb under the title didn’t help), but it’s an important topic, and I’m glad that it’s being written about. Yong notes the medical supply shortages that are becoming increasingly problematic in the US; hopefully greater awareness might somehow inspire solutions.

3. Reporting on the termination of a major NIH study of alcohol, heart attack, and stroke, which was shut down when conflicts of interest were identified. It’s an important examination of the ethics of funding and scientific research.

4. Dispatches from the Gulf of California, where the vaquita—now the world’s rarest marine mammal—is on the brink of extinction.

5. I was so full of appreciation and respect when I read my friend Karen’s latest post on numbers and body acceptance.

Like Karen, I went through a long period of asking to be blind weighed at the doctor’s office and not owning a scale. That time served a purpose, but nowadays I can be aware of the number without identifying with it, which I’m grateful for. I’ve had a bunch of doctor’s appointments in the last month, and getting weighed has been the last thing on my mind: feeling more at home in my body has been my only point of focus.

Karen opens up about her own recent experience with the scale and the annual physical, then reflects on why she’s committed to being transparent about what “balance” looks like for her. It’s great to witness her journey unfolding.

On that inspiring note, happy Sunday—and from a celebratory NYC, happy pride! I’ll be circling back this week with my first fruit-filled dessert of the summer.

xo

[Read More ...] https://www.thefullhelping.com/weekend-reading-6-24-18/

[oovitus]

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18

A friend of mine told me that he recently went to a conference where all of the attendees seemed to be talking about perfectionism, in spite of that fact that it wasn’t the conference theme. They were discussing it as people who had been susceptible to impossible standards in the past, but now counted themselves lucky to have let perfectionism go.

As we were talking, it occurred to me that I haven’t thought about perfectionism in a long time, though it had a hold on me for years. Even after I stopped trying to do everything “right,” perfectionism (and to some extent, being “Type A”) was a big part of my identity. I called myself a “recovering perfectionist,” which was truthful, but in retrospect I think it was also my way of continuing to identify with perfectionism and communicate it to others. I didn’t want to be subject to oppressive standards anymore, but I hadn’t yet figured out who I was without them.

In the end, perfectionism exited my life out of necessity; I untangled from it because I didn’t have a choice. Living with bouts of depression and anxiety in the last few years has meant letting go of a lot of my self-imposed notions of what constitutes productivity, success, or a day well spent.

A common experience of depression, I think, is that small, routine asks can suddenly seem insurmountable: doing laundry, cleaning up, running errands. This would have sounded unbelievable to me at one point in my life, when these kinds of to-dos were just afterthoughts, but now I know what it’s like to struggle with the everyday.

I’m thinking back to an afternoon two summers ago that illustrates this perfectly: my anxiety had been particularly bad, and I’d been paralyzed by procrastination all day. By dinnertime I was genuinely proud of myself for having gotten out of the house to pick up groceries and mail a package. This was a radically different measure of productivity than I was used to, and it didn’t matter: I was relieved to have done something, anything.

I’m in a different place now, capable of fuller days, but my perspective remains valuably altered by that experience. I don’t wake up with a fixed agenda anymore. I don’t plan on doing more than I know I can handle. If I notice that tasks remain undone everyday on my modest to-do list, I take it as a sign that I need to plan on doing less, rather than wondering why I can’t do more.

I’ve learned that my capacity for doing and my tendency to get overwhelmed ebb and flow. Sometimes they shift for reasons that I can identify, like how I’m feeling physically or whether something has made me anxious. Sometimes they change suddenly and for no apparent reason. I don’t try to bully myself out of feeling overwhelmed; rather, I ask what would make me feel calmer and more steady.

I often remind myself of a mantra that my friend Maria gave herself when her MS symptoms started keeping her from the pace and routines that had become customary: “better than before.” The origin of this mantra was an ongoing struggle to keep tidy the home she shared with her young son. As Maria’s “functional self” receded, she noticed the presence of another self, who “though less physically versatile, was stronger than I ever could have imagined from the perspective of the one who functioned’ throughout the day. She began to show me things my functional self simply missed.”

One of those things, she goes on to say,

was to be able to notice when I was completely out of energy to exert myself. This might be when something was halfway wiped, or not wiped at all, but I had somehow managed to put some things away. She would know to say that’s enough for now. And she was very clever about what would satisfy my functional self, who would never have been satisfied with that’s enough. It sobered that functional self to learn when the diagnosis of MS finally came that the “forcing” she had habituated herself to was the worst thing to do if she wanted to preserve her physical abilities.  But as the saying goes, it’s really true that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. So my deeper wiser identity came up with something even more ingenious than this looming threat:

Better Than It Was.

Or, (depending on the context): Cleaner Than It Was.

These two statements became my mottos. And they still are. They allowed me to learn to pace myself while still satisfying that Functional Self that I was making what she considered progress through the daily requirements of life, even if many of them were slowed to a crawl or a downright standstill.  Better Than It Was.

Maria’s story is uniquely her own, and my own sense of high functionality has shifted for reasons that are uniquely mine. But her clever motto has given me great comfort since I first read about it on her blog. So, too, does this quote from Melody Beattie: “Our best yesterday was good enough; our best today is plenty good too.”

The best thing about letting go of perfectionism is developing a capacity to recognize that “our best” can look very different from moment to moment. There’s no longer an immovable standard of output. I wish that I’d been able to pry my ego away from productivity and being busy on my own, rather than being forced to reckon with a dramatic shift in my capacities, but in the end, it doesn’t matter how I got here. What matters is that I’m learning to be grateful for what I can do, rather than fixating on what I haven’t, or can’t.

Throughout all of this, I’ve had the tremendous luxury of being able to adjust my schedule and responsibilities in a way that allowed me to create a dynamic “new normal.” Not every person has the space to do this, depending on his or her professional and personal circumstances. I recognize and respect the many men and women who go through periods of depression and anxiety while also keeping up with fixed schedules. And of course I worry sometimes about my DI year: now that I’m learning how to take gentle care in the moments when I need to, what will it be like to temporarily lose control of my schedule and workload?

I don’t have an answer, but to some degree I suspect that I don’t need one. My routine next year will be a challenge, but so long as I can do my best without succumbing to the influence of perfectionism, I know I’ll be OK. Much as I’ve made my schedule more realistic, letting go of perfectionism has been an inside job. It resides in recognizing how futile perfectionism is, how it discourages me needlessly while keeping me from recognizing the good that I can do, and maybe have done (another observation that’s prompted by Beattie).

Here’s to a week—and a month, and a summer, and a year—of doing my best and trusting that my best is enough. I wish the same for you, too. And here’s the weekly roundup of links.

Recipes

I would never think to put fruit in a tabbouleh, but I love Katie’s creative mixture of blueberries, parsley, mint, and quinoa—I’d actually love to try it as a savory breakfast dish!

A very different kind of quinoa salad, but no less delicious: a curried mixture with red cabbage, raisins, and pumpkin seeds from Melanie of Veggie Jam.

Two recipes for summer entertaining caught my eye this past week. The first is these show-stopping chipotle cauliflower nachos from my friend Jeanine of Love & Lemons.

Number two is this platter of green summer rolls with mango miso sauce from Anya of Lazy Cat Kitchen. The sauce alone is calling to me, but I also love all of the tender green veggies here (asparagus, zucchini, broccolini).

Finally, a summery vegan pasta salad with creamy avocado dressing—perfect timing, as pasta salad’s been on my mind lately (and I may just have a recipe coming soon!).

Reads

1. This article is about a month old, but it’s very on-topic for today’s post: why you should stop being so hard on yourself, via The New York Times.

2. Ed Yong’s new article on the threat of imminent global pandemics frightened me (and the blurb under the title didn’t help), but it’s an important topic, and I’m glad that it’s being written about. Yong notes the medical supply shortages that are becoming increasingly problematic in the US; hopefully greater awareness might somehow inspire solutions.

3. Reporting on the termination of a major NIH study of alcohol, heart attack, and stroke, which was shut down when conflicts of interest were identified. It’s an important examination of the ethics of funding and scientific research.

4. Dispatches from the Gulf of California, where the vaquita—now the world’s rarest marine mammal—is on the brink of extinction.

5. I was so full of appreciation and respect when I read my friend Karen’s latest post on numbers and body acceptance.

Like Karen, I went through a long period of asking to be blind weighed at the doctor’s office and not owning a scale. That time served a purpose, but nowadays I can be aware of the number without identifying with it, which I’m grateful for. I’ve had a bunch of doctor’s appointments in the last month, and getting weighed has been the last thing on my mind: feeling more at home in my body has been my only point of focus.

Karen opens up about her own recent experience with the scale and the annual physical, then reflects on why she’s committed to being transparent about what “balance” looks like for her. It’s great to witness her journey unfolding.

On that inspiring note, happy Sunday—and from a celebratory NYC, happy pride! I’ll be circling back this week with my first fruit-filled dessert of the summer.

xo

The post Weekend Reading, 6.24.18 appeared first on The Full Helping.

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18 published first on

[the-record-columns]

July 12, 2017: Columns

From NASCAR to Whitman's Chocolates...

The candy cooler is wedged between Coca-Cola and Pepsi coolers at the offices of The Record and Thursday Printing.

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

       Some months ago I received a call from the folks at NASCAR Race Hub about a piece they were producing on Junior Johnson.

       It had to do with the 50th anniversary of Thomas Wolfe's article in Esquire dubbing Johnson as "The Last American Hero." Since Johnson and Wolfe are both still alive and kicking, it seemed like a good idea to me, too, and one with plenty of folks to interview.

       Which brings me to me. They asked if they could interview me, to which I replied "Why?" When they said that someone had suggested me to them, I said "But, I am not a NASCAR fan." They said that didn't matter, and, to make a long story short, I told them to come on, and they did.

       On the appointed day, the crew arrived and it was clear they had been to the rodeo before. They set about making my mess of an office suitable for an interview, and soon it began. I politely explained to them that, when they took the race away from our speedway here, I was through with them; that they had "...gotten above their raising" so to speak; "...forgot who brought them to the dance," well, you get the idea.

       The interview lasted nearly an hour, but I want to share just two items with you today. When asked what I admired most about Junior Johnson I quickly told them it went right back to my comment about losing our race in Wilkes. Junior Johnson is still loyal to those who made him famous and has not forgotten where he came from. He is still humbled and thankful for it all. I told them how Junior would take a phone call from anyone, that The Record has asked him to make an appearance off and on through the years, and he never turned us down if he could possibly schedule it-even to coming to the retirement of a rural mail carrier whose only request for his special day was to shake hands with Junior Johnson.

       The other part of the interview I want to share concerned the author of the Esquire piece, Thomas Wolfe. The NASCAR folks told me that Wolfe had referred to the people of Wilkes County as standoffish and unfriendly. I quickly took great exception with that, and recommended that they tell Wolfe to keep his happy ass in New York where he belongs. I went on to suggest to the TV crew in my office to pull their van off on the 421 By-Pass as they left town, and cut on their emergency flashers. I assured them that not three minutes will have gone by until someone stops to see if they need some help. I ended that part of the interview by telling them that if someone in Traphill answers the door at midnight with a shotgun in hand, "...that's not standoffish-that's just cautious."

And now to Whitman's Chocolate.

       There will be more on the the machine pictured on this page later, but today I want to focus on getting it into the offices of The Record. There is still no substitute for dumb luck, but a chance encounter with a collector friend of mine led me to this beautiful late 40s edition of the Whitman Chocolate company's refrigerated answer to being unable to sell chocolate year-round in the South. It is an amazing piece, 100 percent intact, six feet long, 30 inches wide, five feet tall, top-heavy and as awkward as can be to move, and weighed what seemed to be a ton.

       Having done the work to make a place for something this large in my somewhat crowded offices, I was determined to move it in the same day. I enlisted my helper, Marty Long, who I have personally seen pick up a washing machine by himself and carry it across a large warehouse floor without even taking a deep breath. When Marty hunkered down to pick up one end of this cooler, he stood right up and said "I've got to call Hoss." Well Hoss is named right and, along with the help of another total stranger who randomly saw we had a struggle going on, the beautiful, historic Whitman's Chocolate cooler/display case, originally in the Horton's Drug Store on Main Street, was installed in it's place of honor here at The Record.

       Bear in mind that these two guys who made this move bearable were total strangers to me, one of which I didn't even get his name. When the job was done, and, I must add that the inside the office part of the job was no piece of chocolate itself; neither of the two Good Samaritans would take a penny  for helping and

     even turned down my offer of taking them to lunch.

Just glad to help, they both said.

       I am convinced that these two Wilkes County guys would have been the very ones who would stop to give assistance to the NASCAR Race Hub crew in their white van on the 421 By-Pass.

       Or even Thomas Wolfe.

  Intentional living

By LAURA WELBORN

       When we do NOT do what we like and yet do what we hate?  We want to eat healthy yet sneak candy… when something holds us captive and we can't seem to stop doing it  A relapse is when we do what we hate but can't help ourselves.  And we all relapse.  It is not if we relapse into whatever we are addicted to but when we will relapse.  I call this living intentionally, or being mindful of our addictions and not relapsing into "what we hate" but crave it none the less.

       "You have to do hard things in life.  The things most people are avoiding.  The things that frighten you and make you uncomfortable.  The things others can't do for you.  The things that make you question how much longer you can hold on and push forward.

               Why?

       Because those are the things that ultimately define you.  Those are the things that make the difference between existing and living - between knowing the path and walking the path

       The hard things are often the easiest things to avoid.  To distract yourself.  To procrastinate.  To make excuses.  To pretend like they somehow don't apply to you and your life situation.  But reality always rears its head in the end.  And the truth about how ordinary people achieve happiness and incredible feats of success is that they step out of their comfort zones and do the hard things in life.

       So what do we do?

       A lack of self-discipline for most of us is simply the result of a lack of focus. Be mindful about what's really going on. Ask yourself if you are procrastinating for some reason?  Are you distracted?  Instead of telling yourself you are "undisciplined,"  try to productively uncover a more specific, solvable problem, and then address it.

       The root cause of most human stress is simply our stubborn propensity to hold on to stressful thoughts.  We hold on tight to the hope that things will go exactly as we imagine, and then we complicate our lives to no end when our imagination doesn't represent reality.

       How can we let go and live better?  By realizing that there's nothing to hold on to in the first place.  Most of the things - situations, problems, worries, ideals, expectations, etc. - we desperately try to hold on to, as if they're real, aren't really there.  Or if they are there in some form, they're mostly created in our minds."(Marc and Angel Hack life blog)

       Start small, take the first step and then keep on stepping.  Live intentionally in everything you do, keeping in mind what it is that you want as an end result and you will be there in a blink of an eye.  

 Israel's War to the North

By EARL COX

In its short history just shy of seventy years, Israel has fought in eight recognized wars, two Palestinian intifadas, a number of armed conflicts with hostile neighbors and not one of these wars or armed conflicts was instigated or provoked by Israel. Israel's neighbors should begin to wrap their heads around the fact that Israel was granted sovereignty with defined borders in 1948 by the United Nations. The partition borders have changed as a result of the wars brought on by her neighbors and to this day Israel's antagonists are not letting up. So long as there is radical Islam, real peace for Israel is extremely unlikely.

       At this point in history it should be evident to everyone that radical Islam despises Jews and the Jewish nation of Israel.  Christians and the United States of America are also on radical Islam's hit list.

       The hatred spewed by Mahmoud Abbas representing the Fatah faction of the Palestinian Authority, Hamas authoritarians, Hezbollah's kingpin Nasrallah and Iran's Ayatollah Khomeini leaves Israel little choice but to be defensively prepared for the eventuality of another war.

       The international snowflakes who do not understand Middle Eastern regional politics cannot be excused for their hateful rhetoric against Israel so long as they understand the English language.                                  What Israel's enemies say to the world in English is very different from what they say to their own people in Arabic but translations are easy to find. In Arabic, Israel's adversaries are constantly calling for the blood of Jews and the destruction of Israel. Hezbollah's flags fly along Israel's border with Lebanon and Palestinian flags fly along the Gaza border as a constant reminder to Israel that she is surrounded by enemies. There are posters in southern Lebanon adjacent to Israel's northern border which depict the Iranian flag and the face of the Ayatollah. Written in Hebrew and Arabic are the words, "We are coming." It's a constant threat.

       Barring some inane idea of Hamas causing another skirmish with Israel, the next war Israel will have to face will probably be in the north against Hezbollah which is a proxy of Iran. This war will be billed as a war with Lebanon because the land belongs to the nation of Lebanon however the terror organization known as Hezbollah is deeply embedded within the Lebanese government.  Hezbollah could be used by Iran as the catalyst for sparking a war with Israel. The instigating factor will perhaps be over borders which Israel shares with Lebanon and Syria in the north or a "miscalculation" from an enemy in Syria or Lebanon whereby a rocket or missile "accidentally" lands in Israel's Golan Heights region. This would necessitate an Israeli response with a possible subsequent escalation of conflict. Iran would very much like to gain a stronger foothold in Syria whereby it could move freely into southern Lebanon and on to the Mediterranean.

       Whatever the case may be, Israeli preparations must be based not on "if" they will be forced to fight again but "when." How is Israel to respond and engage the enemy in a war provoked by Hezbollah? First, Israel relies on its intelligence that the southern border of Lebanon is saturated with rockets and missiles; ten times as many as in the war with Lebanon in 2006.  This translates into approximately 130,000 rockets aimed at Israel.  Not only is the sheer number of armament intimidating but some are now powerful enough to reach all parts of Israel with a high degree of accuracy and many are equipped with guidance systems but Israel will not be caught by surprise.  Israel's intelligence services are the most sophisticated in the world. Right now Israel's entire medical establishment is working together mapping out a plan for dealing with mass casualties and medical evacuations.  In case of a large scale emergency, some hospitals are able to turn their cafeterias into auxiliary emergency rooms in less than ten minutes.

       Israel's military is also among the best in the world but Hezbollah's soldiers will be an intimidating force. Many were trained by ruthless Iran and just as many were trained in battle in Syria. These forces will surge over Lebanon's southern border into northern Israel killing and capturing Israeli citizens. Entire Israeli communities could be held hostage. The threat is so real that Israel has already prepared emergency evacuation plans for its citizens living in the north.

       Israel's military defense is robust having been forced to deal with constant threats and attacks. The State of Israel has three very effective tiers of missile defense which is capable of blocking incoming rockets and missiles. Moreover, Israel has its own strategic and tactical missiles and rockets capable of accurately striking any opponent's position. Herein lies the quintessential ethical dilemma.

       Hezbollah, like all radical Islamic organizations, has a death wish. They care nothing for human lives including their own people. In fact, they crave to see civilian bloodshed  as it plays well for propaganda when Israel is involved. Despite Israel's best efforts to avoid civilian casualties, innocent people who are set-up to die by Hezbollah will get caught up in the war. The free world, including Israel, does not want to see this happen but human shields are a favorite tool of militant Islam.

       So, laced all along Lebanon's southern border (which is Israel's northern border) are many civilian homes outfitted with rocket and missile armaments. Who's to say how many schools, playgrounds, mosques and societal infrastructures also conceal armaments and other Hezbollah weapons caches?

       This creates a no-win situation for Israel. Her focus will be on doing her best to protect Israelis while also doing her best to avoid the loss of innocent life which is loathsome to Israel. As the political dynamics in the Middle East continue to shift like sands on the seashore, it is important for all to understand how the stage is being set hoping to force Israel's hand.  Israel is keeping a watchful eye on Syria to make certain the current ceasefire does not give Iran and Hezbollah an opportunity to move in even closer.  Jordan is interested in maintaining the ceasefire as a matter of security and also so the million plus Syrian refugees currently living in Jordan will be able to leave.  Will peace be restored to Syria or will the plot thicken as Iran cozies up to Russia, Hezbollah and Hamas continue to receive support and financing from Iran and the people of Syria continue to suffer being used as pawns by their own government and others? Only time will tell and it's already been six plus long years.

 Blackberries and Cobbler

By Carl White

Life in the Carolinas

This story started with a simple question from Ken. “Do you know the history of the blackberry cobbler?” When asked, I had to stop and think for a moment. I knew I liked blackberry cobbler because over the years I have eaten a lot of it.  I recalled that my grandmother made a great cobbler from wild blackberries; however, I had to admit I not did know the real history of the cobbler. Without hesitation, I committed to learning about and sharing my findings.

It appears that the cobbler was inspired by the English and according to our friends at Wikipedia, Cobblers were a development of necessity because the folks in the British American colonies were not able to secure the proper ingredients or cooking equipment required to make their customary suet puddings.

Biscuits were standard, and the idea of using a layer of uncooked biscuits mixed with the stewed filling was born. While the origin of the name cobbler it unsure, it was supposedly recorded for the first time in the mid-1800’s. The cobbler also became a favorite dish on the Chuckwagon for the Cowboys.  

There are savory and sweet cobblers, and in the south, some of us enjoy our blackberry, peach and apple cobbler with a scoop or two of ice-cream.  

Warm summer days and sweet plump blackberries in the Carolinas makes for many excellent memories. Not so long ago I had the opportunity to work on a story about the official NC Blackberry Festival in historic downtown Lenoir, NC.  

Over the three days that we attended, the high temperature averaged in the low 90’s. The humidity was modest, and the shade provided a nice respite from the sun.  One of the good things about downtown Lenoir is that there are several places that you can step into for a refreshing beverage and a bite to eat. We were sure to take advantage of both.

The blackberry festival was kicked off with, “An Evening of Everything Blackberry” A good portion of the main street was closed off to traffic with tables lined up in the center of the street and set for dinner. There was a swing band playing, and there was an abundance of food which was creatively infused with blackberries. One of the more interesting food items was grilled frog legs covered with Jeff Crane’s Blackberry BBQ sauce. There was also a cobbler, but not the big one that would come on Saturday.

Friday evening featured the Blackberry Belle Pageant, a music contest, blackberry recipe contest, a late night 5K Glow Run and a beer garden that among other things included Blackberry infused beer.

The big day for the Blackberry Festival was Saturday, and we arrived as the vendors were getting set up. We made the Highlands Coffee shop our staging area, and we quickly went into production.  It did not take long for the crowd to arrive. The weather was clear and the streets were soon filled with approximately 25,000 festival attendees.

Lineberger’s Farm had lines of people buying blackberries and blackberry cider. I can attest to the good flavor of both. We were then pleased to meet the newly crowned Little Miss Blackberry Belle Princess and then it was time to witness the blackberry eating contest.

There were three age groups with a surprise for the adults. A new no hands rule was added for the adults, which evidently lead to the upset for the past four-year champion.

And then is was finally time for the colorful and energy filled “Colossal Cobbler Parade” which was very impressive. The parade made its way through town and at the end delivered what is reportedly world’s largest patchwork blackberry cobbler.

As soon as the cobbler was displayed, it was served up to lines of festival attendees. In talking with several people, the cobbler is an awaited annual tradition which keeps them coming back year after year. The blackberry cobbler seemed to hold many family memories of grandmothers and aunts who made great cobblers.

I am grateful for the early day repurposing of biscuit dough and for the NC Blackberry Festival for celebrating our love of blackberries and for having a grand parade that features the largest patchwork blackberry cobbler in the world.  

I can still hear the beat of the drummer.  God Bless America and our beloved, cobbler!

Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturdays at 12:00 noon. For more on the show visit  www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at Carl@lifeinthecarolinas.com.

[oovitus]

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18

A friend of mine told me that he recently went to a conference where all of the attendees seemed to be talking about perfectionism, in spite of that fact that it wasn’t the conference theme. They were discussing it as people who had been susceptible to impossible standards in the past, but now counted themselves lucky to have let perfectionism go.

As we were talking, it occurred to me that I haven’t thought about perfectionism in a long time, though it had a hold on me for years. Even after I stopped trying to do everything “right,” perfectionism (and to some extent, being “Type A”) was a big part of my identity. I called myself a “recovering perfectionist,” which was truthful, but in retrospect I think it was also my way of continuing to identify with perfectionism and communicate it to others. I didn’t want to be subject to oppressive standards anymore, but I hadn’t yet figured out who I was without them.

In the end, perfectionism exited my life out of necessity; I untangled from it because I didn’t have a choice. Living with bouts of depression and anxiety in the last few years has meant letting go of a lot of my self-imposed notions of what constitutes productivity, success, or a day well spent.

A common experience of depression, I think, is that small, routine asks can suddenly seem insurmountable: doing laundry, cleaning up, running errands. This would have sounded unbelievable to me at one point in my life, when these kinds of to-dos were just afterthoughts, but now I know what it’s like to struggle with the everyday.

I’m thinking back to an afternoon two summers ago that illustrates this perfectly: my anxiety had been particularly bad, and I’d been paralyzed by procrastination all day. By dinnertime I was genuinely proud of myself for having gotten out of the house to pick up groceries and mail a package. This was a radically different measure of productivity than I was used to, and it didn’t matter: I was relieved to have done something, anything.

I’m in a different place now, capable of fuller days, but my perspective remains valuably altered by that experience. I don’t wake up with a fixed agenda anymore. I don’t plan on doing more than I know I can handle. If I notice that tasks remain undone everyday on my modest to-do list, I take it as a sign that I need to plan on doing less, rather than wondering why I can’t do more.

I’ve learned that my capacity for doing and my tendency to get overwhelmed ebb and flow. Sometimes they shift for reasons that I can identify, like how I’m feeling physically or whether something has made me anxious. Sometimes they change suddenly and for no apparent reason. I don’t try to bully myself out of feeling overwhelmed; rather, I ask what would make me feel calmer and more steady.

I often remind myself of a mantra that my friend Maria gave herself when her MS symptoms started keeping her from the pace and routines that had become customary: “better than before.” The origin of this mantra was an ongoing struggle to keep tidy the home she shared with her young son. As Maria’s “functional self” receded, she noticed the presence of another self, who “though less physically versatile, was stronger than I ever could have imagined from the perspective of the one who functioned’ throughout the day. She began to show me things my functional self simply missed.”

One of those things, she goes on to say,

was to be able to notice when I was completely out of energy to exert myself. This might be when something was halfway wiped, or not wiped at all, but I had somehow managed to put some things away. She would know to say that’s enough for now. And she was very clever about what would satisfy my functional self, who would never have been satisfied with that’s enough. It sobered that functional self to learn when the diagnosis of MS finally came that the “forcing” she had habituated herself to was the worst thing to do if she wanted to preserve her physical abilities.  But as the saying goes, it’s really true that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. So my deeper wiser identity came up with something even more ingenious than this looming threat:

Better Than It Was.

Or, (depending on the context): Cleaner Than It Was.

These two statements became my mottos. And they still are. They allowed me to learn to pace myself while still satisfying that Functional Self that I was making what she considered progress through the daily requirements of life, even if many of them were slowed to a crawl or a downright standstill.  Better Than It Was.

Maria’s story is uniquely her own, and my own sense of high functionality has shifted for reasons that are uniquely mine. But her clever motto has given me great comfort since I first read about it on her blog. So, too, does this quote from Melody Beattie: “Our best yesterday was good enough; our best today is plenty good too.”

The best thing about letting go of perfectionism is developing a capacity to recognize that “our best” can look very different from moment to moment. There’s no longer an immovable standard of output. I wish that I’d been able to pry my ego away from productivity and being busy on my own, rather than being forced to reckon with a dramatic shift in my capacities, but in the end, it doesn’t matter how I got here. What matters is that I’m learning to be grateful for what I can do, rather than fixating on what I haven’t, or can’t.

Throughout all of this, I’ve had the tremendous luxury of being able to adjust my schedule and responsibilities in a way that allowed me to create a dynamic “new normal.” Not every person has the space to do this, depending on his or her professional and personal circumstances. I recognize and respect the many men and women who go through periods of depression and anxiety while also keeping up with fixed schedules. And of course I worry sometimes about my DI year: now that I’m learning how to take gentle care in the moments when I need to, what will it be like to temporarily lose control of my schedule and workload?

I don’t have an answer, but to some degree I suspect that I don’t need one. My routine next year will be a challenge, but so long as I can do my best without succumbing to the influence of perfectionism, I know I’ll be OK. Much as I’ve made my schedule more realistic, letting go of perfectionism has been an inside job. It resides in recognizing how futile perfectionism is, how it discourages me needlessly while keeping me from recognizing the good that I can do, and maybe have done (another observation that’s prompted by Beattie).

Here’s to a week—and a month, and a summer, and a year—of doing my best and trusting that my best is enough. I wish the same for you, too. And here’s the weekly roundup of links.

Recipes

I would never think to put fruit in a tabbouleh, but I love Katie’s creative mixture of blueberries, parsley, mint, and quinoa—I’d actually love to try it as a savory breakfast dish!

A very different kind of quinoa salad, but no less delicious: a curried mixture with red cabbage, raisins, and pumpkin seeds from Melanie of Veggie Jam.

Two recipes for summer entertaining caught my eye this past week. The first is these show-stopping chipotle cauliflower nachos from my friend Jeanine of Love & Lemons.

Number two is this platter of green summer rolls with mango miso sauce from Anya of Lazy Cat Kitchen. The sauce alone is calling to me, but I also love all of the tender green veggies here (asparagus, zucchini, broccolini).

Finally, a summery vegan pasta salad with creamy avocado dressing—perfect timing, as pasta salad’s been on my mind lately (and I may just have a recipe coming soon!).

Reads

1. This article is about a month old, but it’s very on-topic for today’s post: why you should stop being so hard on yourself, via The New York Times.

2. Ed Yong’s new article on the threat of imminent global pandemics frightened me (and the blurb under the title didn’t help), but it’s an important topic, and I’m glad that it’s being written about. Yong notes the medical supply shortages that are becoming increasingly problematic in the US; hopefully greater awareness might somehow inspire solutions.

3. Reporting on the termination of a major NIH study of alcohol, heart attack, and stroke, which was shut down when conflicts of interest were identified. It’s an important examination of the ethics of funding and scientific research.

4. Dispatches from the Gulf of California, where the vaquita—now the world’s rarest marine mammal—is on the brink of extinction.

5. I was so full of appreciation and respect when I read my friend Karen’s latest post on numbers and body acceptance.

Like Karen, I went through a long period of asking to be blind weighed at the doctor’s office and not owning a scale. That time served a purpose, but nowadays I can be aware of the number without identifying with it, which I’m grateful for. I’ve had a bunch of doctor’s appointments in the last month, and getting weighed has been the last thing on my mind: feeling more at home in my body has been my only point of focus.

Karen opens up about her own recent experience with the scale and the annual physical, then reflects on why she’s committed to being transparent about what “balance” looks like for her. It’s great to witness her journey unfolding.

On that inspiring note, happy Sunday—and from a celebratory NYC, happy pride! I’ll be circling back this week with my first fruit-filled dessert of the summer.

xo

The post Weekend Reading, 6.24.18 appeared first on The Full Helping.

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18 published first on https://storeseapharmacy.tumblr.com