Clean and Elegant

Clean and Elegant
Showing posts with label regrets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label regrets. Show all posts

Tuesday, 11 April 2017

What I think about when I think about brand-named q-tips.

What I think about
when I think about
Brand Named Q-Tips.


Every time I clean out my ears with olive oil, I think of this training I did about how to take care
of someone with Alzeimer's. (In French they call training, formation, and I find this quite poetic.)
The training's presenter was a former nurse who made the commitment to live in a L'Arche home, I think in Trois-Rivières, where she shared her life and helped take care of people with intellectual disabilities. In her home lived a tiny woman in her fifties who had both Down Syndrome and Alzeimer's. Early Alzeimers is quite common for people with Down Syndrome, and for them being fifty or sixty is rather old.


The former nurse taught us about the best order for washing body parts. That is to say, feet, armpits and buttholes last, best case scenario, with many fresh wash cloths. As for Q-tips, these she did not recommend, brand-name or otherwise. Instead, she said you could stick a damp clean wash cloth inside the person's ear and gently faire la tour. Make the rounds.


I also remember her suggesting that you take the person you are caring for out for walks whenever you could. Some people need two extra arms on either side to help them balance. Others only need one. In any case, it is usually best to walk slowly.


"Ce n'est pas du cardio pour nous autres."
Not the cardio
for us. 


I never met the tiny woman with Alzeimers who lived in Trois-Rivières. Almost certainly by now she is dead.


But I can picture her, walking slowly, being beautiful, and not using Q-tips. 


What I think about
when I think about
Brand Named Q-Tips


The Drugstore Date
with my ex-love-of-my-life
The Boatman.


I invented Drugstore Dates in February of 2012. Drugstore dates involve going to the drugstore at any pre-determined hour, with your loved one, or by yourself if you're trying to master self-compassion and/or radical self-reliance. During the Drugstore Date, you can do romantic things such as take your own or your loved one's blood pressure. You might discuss your results with your loved one, or with the pharmacist. Try not to get to competitive about something that is always changing. After the blood pressure is over, take your time perusing each aisle. From podiatric health to Family Planning, each drug store aisle offers something potentially exciting. Be sure to make a stop in the row of greeting cards where you can read a festive and heartfelt message aloud, no matter what holiday it is or isn't. Almost always you will be able to find an obnoxious musical greeting card which will be thrilling and liberating to open in a public space.


No one should leave a Drugstore Date without making some sort of non-regrettable purchase that can serve as a thoughtful and non-regrettable gift, either for yourself or for the Loved One.


The greatest thing about the drugstore is that it abounds with items you won't regret purchasing. Examples are dandruff shampoo, a nail file, Grapefruit Perrier and Brand name Band-aids. In French they call band-aids, les pansements.


No one regrets buying any of these items. You will walk out of the drugstore with a full heart and absolutely no regrets.


On the very first Drugstore Date, the Boatman bought me some purple sparkly eye shadow. Maybe he also bought me some other contraption such as a nail file for my disgusting toenails. I know for sure, I bought him a large box of brand-name q-tips. I'm not sure if he stuck them in his ears. Definitely they were useful for applying cold sore ointment.


What I think about
when I think about
Brand Named Q-Tips


On Sunday, April 9, I saw a toddler lying back in his stroller and clutching a box of brand-name q-tips.


The fresh blue plastic-wrapped box,
his earnest clutching hands
evoked so much.
Gifted with brand-named q-tips so early in life,
this boy ,
I do not
intend to forget.


The End.


Hi.
Thanks for reading.


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The Drugstore Date
All the Lonely People, Rainbows, the Big Black Dog, and Sex
Regrets


How I am violent, by Erica J. Schmidt



Monday, 9 December 2013

Regrets

You can obtain great wisdom from other people’s regrets. I love looking at the rejected items tossed along the tabloid rack at the grocery store. Cheesies, Worcestshire sauce, packages of powdered gravy, a bag of three apples discarded beside Kate Middleton’s face or the self-celebratory cover of Oprah’s magazine. It is also fun to visit the regrets in the bulk food section. Sometimes people fill large transparent bags of wasabi peas, cashews or chocolate covered cranberries. Whatever the rejected item, I always help myself to at least a mouthful. Somehow these nibbles don’t count. Not ethically, or calorically. Bulk food regrets are delightful.
 
Other people’s library regrets are good too. Yesterday, at the Halifax Spring Garden Library, I stumbled upon a particularly interesting pile of rejected books on a table by the magazine section. Whoever had pulled them off the shelf had disappeared to make other book choices. I hadn’t picked out any books yet and so I had a look.

The Normal One. Library Regret #1
I would love to have a psychologist named Dr. Safer. How comforting. In The Normal One, Jeanne Safer writers about Caliban Syndrome, a set of emotional challenges that normal children face. The damaged sibling may have dealt with a disease, a disability, or some other difficulty, maybe even death. The normal child with Caliban Syndrome may experience premature maturity, survivor guilt, compulsion to achieve, or fear of contagion.  We don’t know if the person who took the book off the shelf had Caliban Syndrome, or if he or she was the difficult or damaged sibling. I quite enjoy my sister, but she doesn’t want me to mention her very much on this blog because she is somewhat famous.

Gotta love that sweater and those shoes. Image from the Huffington Post

Library Regret Number Two: The World According to Mister Rogers, Important Things to Remember, by Mister Fred Rogers, the star of the show Mr. Rogers’ Neighbourhood. My brother-in-law was reading this on a trip in Prince Edward Island. He was an English major and all set to become a teacher when he grew up until he got somewhat famous singing for children about bananas, apples and hippopotamuses. Like my sister, he probably doesn’t want me to talk too much about him on this blog either, but I’m sure he owes at least some of his success to Mister Rogers’ inspiration. 

The World According to Mister Rogers

Library Regret Number Three: You Can Heal Your Life, the in-colour, illustrated version by Louise Haye.

You Can Heal Your Life. Remember, "I Love Myself," "All is Well," etc.

I read this book while I was trying to heal my toenail fungus. Louise Haye is a nice older woman who claims that through very positive affirmations, she has rid her body of a whole slew of horrific cancers. According to Louise, all diseases stem from deep-rooted emotional and negative thinking patterns that manifest themselves in the body. For instance, canker cores come from “festering wounds held back by the lips.” Fungus is from stagnant beliefs and an inability to move forward. You Can Heal Your Life, your canker sores and your fungus by repeating positive affirmations to yourself as much as possible. Louise also takes delight in tapping her body while she’s repeating affirmations. Once the Boatman and I came a video of her tapping herself and talking to her angel
We thought it was very interesting. I’ll let you look up her videos for yourself. But facetiousness aside, she seems rather sweet and sincere. Eighty-six years old. 
For people who are concerned about the acetabular impingement in their hip joint, Louise has an excellent affirmation:
"Hip Hip Hurray. There is joy in every day. I am balanced and free."
Many of Louise’s affirmations involve the phrases “I deeply love and approve of myself” and “all is well.” My mother vigorously tapped affirmations into her head, temples, and shoulders during the years after her divorce. She used to say, “Even though my marriage failed, I deeply love and approve of myself. All is well.” It was very convincing.
Bless Louise Haye.
Time For Library Regret Number Four: Stop Running From Love: Three Steps to Overcoming Emotional Distancing and Fear of Intimacy by Dusty J. Miller. 
People who are afraid of intimacy are called “Emotional Distancers.” The three steps to overcoming this seem relatively simple. However, I don’t think I’m much of a distancer. I am more the clingy, needy type, so I didn’t read much more.
Library Regret Number Five: Indigo Adults: Understanding Who You Are and What you can Become by Kabig Jaffe and Ritane Davidson. 
 On the back cover are the words, “Are you an Indigo Adult and don’t know it?” I wasn’t sure so I continued reading. The symptoms of being an Indigo Adult are
-unusual sensitivities,
-feelings of being separate or misunderstood
-frustrations and dissatisfactions with the “normal world.”
-a driving need to contribute to creating a better world
-a powerful longing for something more.
Sounds a little bit like Gifted Child Syndrome. Inside the book I skimmed over something about a planetary initiation on December 12, 2012. That’s over now. I did 108 sun salutations and nothing happened. Also, apparently everyone is stuck in a rigid Piscean Personality. This isn’t supposed to be good for very many chakras. The Indigo Personality reflects the new, fluid and flexible personality. This is supposed to be way better for way more chakras. Whatever the case, I couldn’t bear to read it. I will never understand who I am or what I can become.
I left all the rejected books in a pile on the table where I found them. Then I looked up another book by Dr. Jeanne Safer, the psychologist who wrote about the normal and damaged siblings. It is called "Beyond Motherhood: Choosing a Life Without Children."
I have begun to devour it with fervour.
I deeply love and approve of myself.
The End.
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I Let Go, self-help book by Erica J. Schmidt


What the fuck should I do with my life, Part Two.
Guillaume, Part Two.
Rumplestiltskin