life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

Don't Talk Like That...

I write to find out what my heart thinks....
I am here to celebrate my life, to uncover my fears, to hold on to love, to grieve my losses, to laugh long and hard, and to learn how to live a full magnificent life with heart failure. I am honoring my creativity, and exploring all of my emotions out loud ...before anyone can say....."Don't talk like that!"


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Tuesday, July 24, 2018

It is all about the "pan"...

Ok…ok…ok…I can be an asshole.  Not terribly proud of this “skill” but I have been told by many that my asshole talents are spectacular.  But...it is good to know that when an occasion arises I do have the skills!

In my own defense, I find that by leaving my emotions, anger, preconceived notions, childhood beliefs and negative connotations out of the listening process,  I have the opportunity to “hear” another’s point of view.  This does not mean I will agree with it, however, I will concede that every opinion that is different than mine has the opportunity to change or modify my own thoughts.  It is my opportunity to learn and grow.  My considerable asshole-ness arrives when others refuse to extend the same courtesy.

Different opinions push us all to think beyond, they press us into growth and force us to look at our beliefs from a different and perhaps more reasonable point of view.  At the very least we must truly consider how and why we formed and hold onto the beliefs we do have.  I have told this story many times in class.  When any new idea comes along and my negative knee-jerk reaction begins to surface…I pinch myself and remember this story.

A mother and daughter are preparing a big family meal, and the mother reminds the daughter to cut off the end of the ham before she puts it in the roasting pan and then into the oven.  The daughter asks why do we cut off the end of the ham and her mother replies that is how my mother taught me to do it.  The daughter unsatisfied with her mother’s answer calls her grandmother and asks why do we cut the end of the ham off before it goes into the oven.   The grandmother replies, my roasting pan is small, when I cut off the end it fits just right into my roasting pan.
"Moma Told Me Not to Come"  3 Dog Night

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