Author: Bev

It’s what we’re used to.  Traditions are probably rarely based on absolute truth, but thrive on what we’ve “always done.”

For better or worse, we hand down from one generation to the next, our habits, rituals, beliefs, and information.  Don’t ask me why certain of these things pass down to our children and others don’t stick. Thus, you can’t blame everything on mom and dad, but some stuff descends like a thud.

My husband and I have been known to exclaim in astonishment upon observing our adult child, “Oh my goodness, she got a dose of that from you and a dose from me.  The poor child hasn’t got a chance.”  And, nothing touches this mom’s heart more than to see my grown daughter imitating something good that I’ve passed on to her. “You’re just like your father,” can be a blessing or a curse, hopefully a blessing.

We all want to live on in terms of a legacy, after we’re gone from this realm.  We’d like to transmit something good of ourselves to the generations.  That’s why we make traditions.

For example, Christmas.  The facts are that if your reason for the season is the birth of Jesus, you’ve got the date wrong.  But who cares?  Christmas traditions bring happiness in a world that has much to be unhappy about.

Happy birthday Jesus, anyway.  We’ve often included birthday cake on Christmas, just because of something akin to tradition.

The Christmas tree was traditionally a fir tree, a “paradise tree” commemorating the religious feast day of Adam & Eve, on December 24^th, in Germany.  This reminds me of a silly quirk of our times and technology.  When I text using the word “for,” more often than not, it materializes as fir.  Auto-correct thinks, uncannily that I’m obsessed with the fir tree.  Just to be clear, I am not.

We have entertained the gamut of Christmas tree traditions.  We used to get freshly cut evergreens or cut them ourselves.  Then, when our daughter was born in New Mexico, we bought a potted black pine tree for her first Christmas and subsequently planted it in the southeast corner of our property here in Pennsylvania where it guarded our home for many years.  For the last decade or more we have used an artificial tree, recycled from year to year but still managing to beautify our home for the holiday season.

The last few years, as we age, we threaten to relieve our holiday of the Christmas tree tradition, but as traditions go, our offspring will not allow that tradition to wane.  And, honestly it wouldn’t be “the same,” without that tree.

Should you suffer from short term memory loss, what you’re used to, what you’ve always done, keeping things the same, and how you think about things, becomes even more important than for others who just dislike change.  Traditions keep us going, putting one foot in front of another, through the seasons.

Something like body memory or pop-up memories can take over when mental memory fails, as long as nothing changes.  Woo-hoo, good luck with that.

What would we do without lights at Christmas time?  In the darkness of winter, Christmas lights illumine our way, brighten our countenance and lighten our burdens.

I think it was Prince Albert, the German spouse of England’s Queen Victoria who popularized the Christmas tree with candles illuminating it. Can you imagine candles on an evergreen tree?

I’m sorry if you don’t appreciate the Chevy Chase movie, Christmas Vacation, but I can’t move on until I mention two things from that film.  First, the vision of candles on a Christmas tree, reminds me of Uncle Lewis absentmindedly lighting his cigar next to the Christmas tree, wiping it out along with the cat, his toupee and the chair.  Second, Clark thanked his dad for passing down via tradition, “everything I know about outdoor illumination.” 

Christmas candles and the tradition of gift-giving are both symbolic of Christ as the light of the world, and his birth as the ultimate gift to humankind.  Purposeful or not, when we light the darkness at Christmas time and give gifts to one another, we’re imitating the Light of the World.

Stockings are hung after the tradition of Saint Nicholas, who as the story goes, after dark threw three bags of gold through an open window, to bless a family with a much-needed dowry, with one landing in a stocking.   And, the tradition stuck, as many of them do. 

Traditionally we had Christmas ham for our Christmas day meal.  I like ham.  Everybody else in the family tolerates it, for me, I think.  So, this year I’m starting a new tradition, “Greek for Christmas.”  We’re having Greek meatloaf, Spanakopita (the kids say mine is better than theirs in Athens or the islands), and salad scattered with feta and such.

Known for mix and match in my fashion, I’ll do the same for our Christmas meal and each element will be traditional somewhere.  The gingerbread, aka Jesus’ birthday cake, topped with a choice of raisin or lemon sauce is traditional at Christmas partly because it was thought a long time ago in England, my ancestral home, to be sacred and only allowed at Christmas or Easter.  Also, ginger calms the stomach which let’s face it, is way overtaxed throughout the holidays.

Happy traditions and Merry Christmas.

You’ve heard the joke shared when someone wants an adult beverage early in the day, “well, it’s five o’clock somewhere.”  My theme of this column is loosely based on that joke.

Someone, somewhere is paying for or being paid for something.  Let’s explore that idea of payment a little bit.

In our business, we casually but regularly use the concept of cost-benefit ratio.  Asking the question, “Is it worth the cost to do thus and such” is our oft-used measure of what goods and/or services to buy, how much to spend, and when to cut back, because the cost is too “dear.”

The word “dear” in this sense is something I had heard growing up, to mean, expensive.  As it turns out, the way we used to open a personal letter to someone, with Dear so-and-so, is related to this old-fashioned usage as something or someone precious, held in high regard, beloved, important, of high value or worth much in our estimation.

As to payment, it is often wondered, are we paid for what we’re worth?  Do you feel shorted on pay day?

Is it worth it to pay that much for that item?  For what it’s worth, I have opinions about having to pay the going prices in today’s market.  Is the price too high, for you?

Is the cost too high?  Is it worth it?  What’s it worth to you?  Is there a discernible equivalent value, worthiness?

Have you ever done something wrong and now someone wronged implies, “you’ll pay?” This pronouncement is their promise to correct you by making you suffer.  Their plan is to take something from you in repayment.

“If I do this thing, will I pay the price later?”  “I think this may cost me.”  In other words, will I suffer the consequences of my actions, or get away with it this time?

Then there’s payback which means exactly what it says, one has to pay back what we owe to whomever we owe it.  This kind of payback may or may not include interest on what we borrowed.  Interest can be tricky, as it can be a fair trade or it can be loan-sharking.  Either way, however, we usually agreed to the terms.

But, more often than not, payback is a form of revenge, even though it’s under the guise of reaping what we sow.  If it’s a person exacting the payback, it’s usually revenge, or the Hebrew bible’s “an eye for an eye” which in its original intent and language, was not payback but an effort to make an injured party whole.  As in, if your eye has been taken, I’ll give to you my eye so that you may be made whole.  But, we the people in our need to be right and to get what’s ours, not to mention living in a world of sin, made the “eye for an eye” scripture all about revenge.

Sometimes, if we do something hateful, dirty, cruel, or unkind to someone, we may almost immediately reap what we sowed.  If alert, we might recognize our wrongdoing and think, “well that was God’s payback.”

Maybe I could avoid payback if I “pay it forward.”  Why not?  Instead of paying back a person who did a kindness to you, you pass it on to another person.  Theoretically, they pass it on to another, and so on.  Thus, a pattern of kindness is generated.

Have you ever been dirt poor, or better yet, hit pay dirt? The former, “rock bottom” is the dirtiest of dirt.  The latter, sort of ground up rock containing bits of gold, could be said to be similar to the Beverly Hillbillies’ black gold; and yeah, me neither.

I have eaten a Payday candy bar.  But I don’t recommend them, on pay day or anytime, if you have a peanut allergy or dentures, for that matter.  It happened to be payday at the Hollywood Candy Company in Minneapolis, Minnesota when the caramel covered peanut nougat bar was first produced in 1932.  Since it was, duh, payday, someone suggested the name, and inventor Frank “Marty” Martoccio agreed.

I’m looking forward to payday.  So, if you feel so inclined to pay me back for anything I’ve done, in the “what goes around comes around,” way, could it please be for something kind or loving or benevolent that I’ve done?  Please forgive me if you’ve got something else in mind for payback, on payday. 

 

This column could be considered part deux of my previous, Basic Human Rights.  The right to life being the focus of this segment.

In today’s day and age, post 1973s Roe v. Wade decision, the right to life usually centers on the legal right to have an abortion.  I will not argue this matter.  Rather, I would like to elaborate upon the reasons why we argue any matter.

I’m putting out a theory that the whole raison d’etre for argument, activism, lobbying, and a whole host of cultural movements, surrounds the right to life and/or liberty.  In order to live, we require food, shelter, and air to breathe.

As to food, a number of social organizations exist for the sole purpose of making sure people have food to sustain their bodies.  Food banks, sponsored by churches, come to mind, as we see these throughout our rural landscape.  Then there are the well-known organizations such as Feed the Children, The Hunger Project, Feeding America, City Harvest, Bread for the World Institute, and Action Against Hunger-USA.

From breast-feeding in public, or even labeling it breast-feeding as opposed to chest-feeding, or demanding that every mother breast-feeds, this is probably the first food-oriented argument in the evolution and development of life.  Well, I guess one could argue that the first argument of this sort involves the pregnant woman, gestating a human inside of her, who could be criticized or even tormented for what SHE eats, as she is gestating another human.  It has been done.

Then, there’s the argument about the kind of food we eat.  There are advocates and dissenters for every kind of diet known or semi-known to humankind.  There is the Keto diet or similar Atkins diet or Mediterranean diet; the Vegan diet and the Vegetarian diet, the Carnivores diet, the Balanced diet or Pyramid diet, and the “take a pill and don’t exercise or diet, diet.”  So, theoretically, there is someone out there ready to pounce on every morsel you put into your mouth, or don’t put into your mouth.  Not just the plumpest of the plump are the target of social activism, but the thinnest of the thin out there, suffer from criticism too, “you’ve lost too much weight, are you healthy?” or “are you anorexic?”

Social movements focusing on food such as farm-to-table, organic, home-grown, restaurant, or grocery store food, all have taken their place in the annals of food history, and remain on the table.  There is preserved food in the form of canned food, dried food, and frozen food, and there remains, fresh food.

It doesn’t matter to me which food you select to sustain your life, but you can bet it matters to somebody out there and they’re watching you.  There is surely a group who would defend your right to eat what you want and a group against your eating the way you’ve selected.  Oh, and we shouldn’t forget the all-important groups who make sure you can eat.

As to shelter, most of us take for granted that we have a roof over our heads.  In fact, just having celebrated Thanksgiving, many a meme on Facebook, Thanksgiving greeting card, or general prayer of thanks, acknowledges that roof over our heads.  We’re generally grateful for a place to live.

For those struggling with housing in our rural communities, there are Housing Authorities, Community Services, and Homeless Assistance and Energy Assistance groups who will help.  Nationally there is a Coalition for the Homeless and the National Alliance to End Homelessness.

Remember, your shelter and my shelter may be two very different concepts of shelter.  I know and love some Realtors, one in particular, and it is their job to find you the ultimate in shelter.  Here, I’m talking about buying a house, estate, property, home, or making an investment.  But there are rentals out there which supply housing to millions who choose not to own, or cannot own their shelter.

But we all have neighbors, whether we own or rent our shelter.  “Love thy neighbor.”

This brings me to the third right, the air we breathe.  We have to “share the air” with all the rest of humankind.  We supposedly were taught to share when we first toddled on this earth.  But sometimes you wouldn’t know it.

From “quit smoking” campaigns to a gazillion-and-one conservation, earth-friendly, environmental, green, scientific organizations, there is a multitude of defenders of the air and ground through which we live our lives.  Is it really a surprise to anyone that we don’t all agree about how to protect the precious resource of the air that we breathe? 

“Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe…. And to love you…. All I need is the air that I breathe….”  This is from a 1974 song performed by The Hollies, written by Louis and Edward.  This song reminded me that perhaps we could, rather than defending life, live life in spite of all of our differing opinions about how it “should be lived.”

I fed the cat around 6:45 a.m. and when I looked out at the slightly south, eastern sky, I was amazed.  I would have to struggle to recall a more beautiful natural sight.  I stumbled to throw on a sweatshirt, boots, coat and headband, in order to traverse a hill across from my house, in an attempt to photographically capture this sight.

My fleeting thoughts as I saw that magnificent sunrise went from: “red in the morning, sailor’s warning,” to, “oh that’s not red clouds, that’s the sunrise!” to “I think my phone weather app forecast a cloudy day; to “maybe I’d better get dressed and go out on the deck to get a pic of this before the clouds overtake it.”  Then I quickly decided I’d get a better shot from up the hill.

Don’t you know I missed it?  In hindsight I could have just snapped the pic through the window, in spite of it including the neighbor’s houses.  My new motto might have to become – “gobble up the good, while you bide for the best or you’ll miss the most.”

Because of that sunrise, I almost titled this column, In Spite of the Clouds, hoping to engender optimism in the face of negativity all around us.  In spite of the clouds…In spite of their criticism…. In spite of the arguments… In spite of your defenses…… Don’t Forget the Beauty in Life.

To assuage the pain of a friend, most of us at one time or another, have said something like, “you have every right to feel that way.”  You’re supporting your friend’s moral or just claim, to feel or behave a certain way.

Pretty much daily, we hear some sort of hoopla about rights.  And, it’s usually pretty self-centered hoopla.  The most important rights are “my rights.”  Juggling the rights of everybody is a circus act that we haven’t quite clowned out of since the Bill of them was enacted as Amendments to the U.S. Constitution in 1791.

The Declaration of Independence states in its preamble, that every American was equally created to proceed in life armed with some basic, inalienable human rights.  No one has the right to deny another human being, the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

As to life, we have laws against murder.  No one has the right to murder another human being, no matter the reasons for doing so.

The difference between murder and killing is not just a matter of semantics.  Bible study showed me years ago, that the commandment is literally, “thou shalt not murder.”  A distinction is made for righteous killing, as in battle, war, or defense.

Hunting wild animals, such as deer, elk, small game, etc. is licensed in our state and most if not all others, to my knowledge.  This is lawful killing, licensed by the states for the purposes of sport, culling of herds, etc.  You and I may or may not like this kind of killing, but it is not murder and is not against the law if done according to the rules.

The second human right, codified into law in this union, is liberty.  Liberty can be a tricky subject.  It basically means, freedom.  The tricky part is determining if one person’s freedom impinges on another individual’s freedom?  Amendment IX in James Madison’s Bill of Rights alludes to this.  This document specifically addresses individual rights which are to be protected from overwhelming government power.  That’s when courts of law or its officers sometimes have to get involved.  Then, oh my.

Schools in the state of Pennsylvania allow for vaccine exemptions based on parents’ religious (along with 43 other states and Washington DC) and philosophical beliefs (along with 14 other states).  I wonder why mask mandates don’t fall into this part of the law.  Some parents are adamant that such mandates impinge on their right to liberty, and unhappy campers that they are, they undoubtedly believe the mandates not only restrict their liberty but also deny their pursuit of happiness.

It has been argued that the COVID vaccine, or vax is a different animal than all the other childhood vaccines and preventive vaccines intended to protect seniors.  Are you sure?  Was polio a public health emergency?  How about measles, mumps, diphtheria, flu, or chicken pox/shingles?

For decades, many folks have taken advantage of the exemption in the school law mentioned above, but those exemptions are being challenged in today’s vax arguments.  This is not new.  There have always been individuals who oppose cookie-cutter public health mandates.

Opponents as well as proponents of mask and vax mandates are exercising their right to choose.  Being told by government mandate that we must do or not do something impinges on our liberty and arguably our pursuit of happiness as well.  This is the very definition of a powerful government attempting to control individual rights which are protected under Amendment IX.  So, it’s a battle of one set of rights against another set of rights.  It is yet to be seen which army will win.

The third human right outlined in the Declaration, is not addressed legally in the Constitution.  The pursuit of happiness.

Research has shown that happiness is most often attained through experiences, not the accumulation of stuff.   That new expensive sofa may bring some temporary satisfaction that could be felt as happiness, but very soon it is just a place to sit your bottom when watching TV or conversing with a guest.

If the stuff you purchase, leads to an experience lived, such as a new car that takes you places that lead to memories, then you may just be a clam, living in “happy as…”  Your vehicle may enable your experience of getting from one place to another a happy or an unhappy one.

It is my theory that most people weigh their choices according to a rudimentary scale known in business as a risk-benefit ratio.  Does the cost of a new outfit sync up with the amount of pleasure wearing it has brought, and the experience lived while wearing it?

So, whether you believe in masks, vaccines, or you don’t, I believe we can agree that we are, in this nation, stuck in a pattern of polarity.  In what is essentially a two-party political system, no one has come forward in recent years who appeals to either party’s central core, let alone the central core of both parties, or the middle ground in the nation.

I wonder if at the next go around, we might bring forward a candidate who would appeal to the broad spectrum of us in the middle as well as spilling over to the right and to the left.  I think, for what it’s worth, that the vast majority of Americans are in that broad swath in the middle, given a moderate, intelligent leader.

We’ve been forced to settle for ideologues from either the far right or far left, keeping us embroiled in constant battle.  I wonder, could this be the “reason for the season?”

Now, as to basic human rights, what’s with the rise in the cost of a baguette in France? Supply chain crisis and labor constraints be damned, folks have a right to be bummed when the best bread in the world is costing more than ever!

What can be said about Thanksgiving, the holiday, that has not already been said.  Human beings with more talent in spouting verse, contemplating the meaning of life, or intellectually discussing the facts of the holiday, have opined about it fully.

However, here I am and Thanksgiving is here too.  My website’s wwwdot-moniker, says it all about my style.  I’m all about “deep thoughts on random stuff.”  So, my thoughts about Thanksgiving may go somewhere unlikely or random, as well.

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite of the holidays.  And, it was always celebrated at one or the other of our mom’s place.  It’s a family holiday if ever there was one.

Preparation of the turkey and fixings have found themselves on my plate for the last while back, ever since the grandma’s aged-out and had to pass the torch.  I enjoy fixing the fixings, but the turkey, not so much.

This year will be just a bit different.  So, what’s new?  So far, the 2020s have been nothing but different, much to the lament of those who dislike change.

I found myself in a “voila” moment when reading an article about how to diminish the stress of holiday pressure.  One of the sort-of obvious pointers was, “don’t feel like everything has to be made from scratch.” 

This is likely sacrilege to many a home cook/baker.  We have taken great pride in our home-made, from-scratch concoctions.  I probably still believe those scratch recipes are “the best,” but some corners-cut really won’t be noticed, if you’re careful which corners you cut.

This is my opinion, and I’m sticking to it since that tip gave me instant stress-relief.  I hate roasting turkeys, chickens, any poultry, really.  I never feel confident with their “doneness.”  And, I’ve successfully roasted a whole rafter of them over the years, cumulatively.  You’d think I’d get over it already.

But, no.  And, somewhere along the line, just the sight, feel, and handling of whole birds makes me almost nauseous.  I just can’t.  But I do like to eat turkey, particularly the dark meat.  For the leftovers, I also love old-fashioned turkey-pie, the kind that some foodies call pot-pie, but a local Pennsylvanian would never, since we know pot-pie is strips of dough cooked in a pot of ham broth.

At any rate, the leftovers of the Thanksgiving meal are almost better and certainly more anticipated than the actual meal, especially if you’re the cook.  That reminds me of the time-pressures of preparing the Thanksgiving meal.  It’s a traditional one that ideally requires a million hands, devices, and massive kitchen space to get it all ready and hot at the same time.  Oh my, the pressure.

Back to my planned-differences with this year’s Thanksgiving.  It took several attempts, but we finally triumphed in finding “just turkey drums” (four to be exact since I’m not the only dark-meat lover) and a separate boneless turkey breast.

Now, you might say that’s just a deconstructed turkey, and you would be right.  However, with this plan, I see no cleaning off the bird after all is said and done.  And I see very little basting, hulking, carcass-gleaning, and sweating over a thermometer, timer, and overly full oven kept at first one temperature then another.  I do not have the luxury of two ovens

So, I give a hearty thanks to the writer of that simple tip that lightened my load and eased my burden.  The beginning of my happy holidays started with the relinquishment of a long-held expectation onto which I saddled myself. 

After all, “my reason for the season,” starts now, hopefully without some of our traditional holiday baggage.  I believe that my joy over the Thanksgiving holiday is that its very existence is to officially and ceremonially express our gratitude.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy Christmas, but its baggage surrounding gift-giving and gift-receiving can be a lot of expectations-gone-wrong and tremendous pressure to get it all right.  But for my family, Thanksgiving is just a meal, a sentiment, and a cozy fire in the fireplace.

“What are you thankful for?”  We have at times gone around our table filled with bounty and taken turns articulating something we’re grateful for.  We try not to put pressure on anyone, they can pass if they want to and the next guy can say their thankful that some of us have the discretion to be silent.

“There’s always something to be thankful for.”  If you’re in a bad mood, this sentiment which is often set in memes passed along on Facebook, might make you groan with sarcasm.  But if you’re willing to give up an inch of your fleeting frustration, you will agree that it’s true.

I’m thankful for a holiday intended to celebrate gratitude, goodness, harvest, love, bounty, joy, and warmth in a cold world.  Happy Thanksgiving.

 

 

“Expectation feeds frustration.  It is an unhealthy attachment to people, things, and outcomes we wish we could control; but don’t” (Dr. Steve Maraboli).  Expectation is based on the past and projected onto the future.

Whether you eat something exceptional, either good or bad, you’ll remember it.  So, Bon Appetit, but ease up on your expectations for the next time.  You may just be setting yourself up for disappointment.

Our kids recently returned from a trip to the Caribbean.  Hearing their stories triggered both of us, hubby and me, to salivate for Cuban food.

For me, two food memories stand out in the Cuban department.  One was in New Orleans when our daughter was around two years old.

It was her first professional convention.  It was a music industry conference.  She’s been to many, since then.

But this one was memorable because of some food.  It was a back alley and we’ve found that many of the best local eateries are found there.

It was Cuban and it was delectable.  I remember a black bean bathed concoction possibly pork-based.  The clincher was, however, we left behind our daughter’s silver baby spoon.  And they mailed it to us a couple of weeks hence.  How about that for service!?

I don’t think you can visit New Orleans and its surrounds without coming away with some food stories.  On the trip in question, we also ate at one of the high-end, well-known restaurants.  Our favorite thing was the professionalism of the wait staff, concerning our toddler-in-tow.  They vigilantly kept her entertained with M&M’s while we adults took turns taking bites of grandma’s rabbit salad; which was surprisingly remarkable.

Another Cuban food experience was in Roanoke Virginia.  Again, on our way to a professional conference, probably in Nashville, we found an indoor mall or food court, and we selected Cuban.  And again, it was black bean based and flavored by perhaps shredded beef, or the usual pork.  Oh my, delicious only half describes this cuisine.

Now my taste buds have been piqued to the brink, for Cuban food and since we had planned an outing to Pittsburgh, well, it’s obvious by now what Google search we began.  We usually go with Greek when we travel but Italian, Turkish, or Middle Eastern, also turn on our radar.  But, Cuban….

Expecting to make some more food memories centering on Cuban and Greek/Middle Eastern, our actual trip to Pittsburgh, disappointed, sort of. “Sometimes we create our own heartbreaks through expectation.”

Tip one, when Googling cuisine, pay attention to the dates of the reviews.  The mouth-watering description of the Cuban restaurant in our vicinity of the city fell flat after a half-hour of searching revealed a response of “we closed last year at the beginning of COVID,” at the very quiet storefront.

At about 2:30 p.m. on our first day, after being shot down by our hoped Cuban experience, we were told by the proprietor of our choice for Greek/Middle Eastern food, “Because of the cold weather I only prepared a small slab for gyro, and we sold out by noon.”  He invited us back the next day, ideally around noon.

Our thoughts veered toward, “the early bird catches the worm,” when headed back to the Middle Eastern restaurant around 11:45 a.m.; taste buds already warmed up and poised for a delectable lunch.  For goodness’ sake, we were too early.  Ever feel like Goldilocks?  Too hard, too soft, and when just right hits, you get kicked out?

As it turns out, we just had a few stops on The Strip yet to make before heading out of town, and waiting another hour would be too much killing time, so darn it.

The first day, we had, instead of Cuban, a very good cheese-steak sandwich which hovered on the memorable.  Day two, we assuaged our sad taste-buds with Chinese street food which superseded adequate.

Such are the vagaries of travel and one’s expectations of the same.  On the positive side was our hotel.

At check-in we were surprised that our reserved room was not on the floor that we requested.  However, the newbie young lady at the desk called her manager, who quickly upgraded us from a double to a suite.  And the suite was a delight in every way.

This hotel is the only big one in the city with free parking.  What’s with that, anyway?  Reason would have us think that we’re paying for the hotel room, captive to the property, why on earth would we be expected to pay extra to park there?  But voila, it is the norm to do so.

You’ve heard the adage, “rules are made to be broken?”  Well, I guess although less elegant, the same could be said for expectations.  We should expect them to let us down.

 “It’s a good place when all you have is hope and not expectations” (Danny Boyle).  Shall we raise a glass to hope?

You’ve heard the 16^th century proverb, “you can’t see the forest, for the trees?”  It’s about getting stuck on the details, so as not to see the whole or overall view.

Some call people with detail-tunnel-vision, variously, “detail-oriented,” or “well-organized.” Veering toward the negative, and if their details bug us, we may label them with a mental disorder, “obsessive-compulsive.”

“Highly Sensitive People,” twenty-to-thirty-percent of the population, are said to be more highly aware of the details than the other seventy-to-eighty percent of humans on the planet.  Perceptive and insightful; people with this nature are often described in childhood as wise beyond their years.

Have you ever been criticized for being “too sensitive?”  Maybe you cry at the drop of the hat.  Maybe you’re easily hurt, in the feelings department.  If you absorb other people’s emotions, either expressed or not, you’re more than a sponge.  Perhaps you tend to notice things that other people pay no attention to.

If you can affirm any of these traits, perhaps you are a highly sensitive person, or HSP.  It’s not wrong, by the way.  It’s not even a disorder.  It’s a variation of normal.

But there are pitfalls in having this type of personality.  Feeling deeply can be overwhelming.  There is a great deal of stimuli out there that highly sensitive people are forced by their temperament, to process.  Such folks can be overwhelmed by “too much,” even of a good thing.

HSP’s internalize the unexpressed expectations of other people.  Failure, even small mistakes can feel crippling, triggering self-doubt and emotional self-flagellation.  Sensitive folk find it difficult to see failure as one route to success, be it by an alternative map and a different guide book.

Words matter to these humans.  Some jobs require strict attention to detail, in the use of words.  For example, the emergency dispatcher has to distinguish between 4^th Avenue and 4^th Street; it could mean the difference between life and death.

It’s kind of important to notice the details sometimes.  For instance, if someone had noticed the prospective flight school students who had no interest in learning how to land the plane, but directional navigation, in-flight, was their priority, history may have been altered.  On a personal level and of much less import than the flight school employee’s job, my job, requires that I pay attention to at least a dozen details in order to complete just one overall task.

The nurse who makes a mistake between ordering point-five milligrams instead of five milligrams of a powerful medicine, could have benefited from a detail-oriented personality.  We’d better not accuse any nurse of having a touch of OCD.

Criticism and negativity are like swords cutting straight to the soul of HSP’s and no number of garlic cloves or crosses can assuage such sticks and stones.  Tread lightly when discussing politics, and other “hot” topics with a highly sensitive person.  They’re easily overloaded by controversial details and too many options.

Actor, Michael Keaton’s character in Mr. Mom, could have burned the house down if an electrician had heeded his inattentive advice, “two-twenty, two-twenty-one, whatever it takes.” Or, when apartment hunting early in our marriage, we ran across the landlord who said, when we asked why there was no door on the freezer inside the refrigerator, “we find it works better that way;” were we born yesterday?

Are you paying attention?  Are you noticing some of the important details?

Highly sensitive people are extremely alert to sound, social cues such as body language, tone of voice, facial expressions, and smells.  Deeply moved by beauty, HSP’s are more than likely artistic or creative, but if not, they certainly appreciate all expressions of art.  Detailed, vivid, and telling dreams are usual for highly sensitive people, and they mean something to the dreamer.

Speaking of details, the mysteries of human nature stir HSP’s to ask why, and can initiate long conversations with like-minded others, about life.  On the other hand, small talk about trivial things or chit-chat about nothing can prove exhausting to an HSP.

Conscientious to a fault HSP’S always give one-hundred percent.  These people will never be described as lazy but the opposite may be true.  “Overdoing it,” comes to mind.  Overthinking isn’t unheard of.

Most likely animal lovers and champions of children, highly sensitive people cannot tolerate cruelty.  HSP’s will never be caught watching docudramas of cruelty to animals, movies with a theme focusing on rape or human trafficking, or television shows with corrupt cops.

Highly sensitive people, not unlike introverts, require downtime to recharge their overly taxed nervous systems.   Time pressure sends HSP’s right to the sofa, the hiking trail, the altar, or wherever their personal recharging station is found.

See ya later, after I’ve hit the recharger for a bit.