Thursday, 25 September 2014

Missing: A Few Middle Aged Brain Cells! By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

Middle Aged Brain

A middle aged moment
is full of stark truth:
I'm not quite as sharp as
I was in my youth.
I stand in my kitchen -
hmmm - why am I here?
Just seconds ago it
seemed purpose was clear.
"Oh well - no big worry"
says middle aged brain,
"If reason's important
I'll find it again."
So middle aged body
just reaches for broom
intent on not wasting
a trip to this room,
and middle aged fingers
find paper and pen
and begin jotting notes
about what to do when.
I have to make lists now
and write myself notes,
which I find in pockets
of jackets and coats.
I list things to do and
I list things to buy -
sometimes they're obscure lists
made I don't know why.
My powers of recall
oft' put to the test,
I lose things too often.
It leaves me distressed.
It seems that I put things
in some "nice safe place" -
a secret location
mind's sure to erase.
Senility's lurking -
can things get much worse?
How many more brain cells
are bound to disperse?
Still, middle aged brain has
put pride on the shelf
and gratefully knows how
to laugh at itself.
I once told my mother,
"If you lose your mind
don't trust me to notice -
I'm not far behind!"
Oh middle aged brain, you
are not all that swift,
you concentrate badly,
and let yourself drift.
I thank you for giving
me reasons to smile.
I won't overtax you -
hang in there a while!

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, September 2014

It was another one of those days when the middle aged grey matter just wasn't up to snuff.

I had rescheduled my usual gym day in order to get my hair cut, so I got up and dressed and decided I should be productive until it was time to go. I ate breakfast, threw in some laundry and folded some clothes from the dryer. Then. as I was bringing a load of towels to the upstairs bathroom I noticed the dirty grout around the tub and remembered that I'd been meaning to give it a good scrub with the stuff that cleaned up the grout in the basement bathroom so nicely.

Back downstairs I went to get the grout cleaner so I could begin the task. Of course I couldn't just scrub grout without cleaning the window, and (of course) the dirt from the window and the grout both dripped into the tub and so I needed to clean it too. Then I noticed how slimy the shower curtain was, and pulled it off to toss into the washer. And the whole time I was scrubbing I had this niggling feeling that I was forgetting something.

As I rinsed out my sponge in the sink I caught sight of myself in the mirror and realized I hadn't even brushed my hair yet, so I headed toward the main floor powder room to grab my hairbrush - and as I pulled it through my hair I suddenly remembered that I'd scheduled a hair appointment that day - but when? I hunted down my purse to find the appointment slip, and consulted the nearest clock. Needless to say, in my attempt to not waste time before my hair cut I'd forgotten about the appointment altogether.

I felt really stupid when I called my hairdresser. Luckily she was understanding and able to re-scedule me for later in the day. We both wrote the missed appointment off as just another of those middle-aged brain freeze moments - the kind I've experienced all too often lately. One of my most humiliating had occurred about a week before.

After spending a week away as a family my first task was to clear all the dirty laundry out of our suitcases. I didn't pay any attention to the fact that there was laundry that hadn't been tackled before we'd left - an important detail in the story I'm about to relate.

A few days after we'd returned home I noticed that I couldn't find my favorite sports bra. So I dug out my old one and wore it on the treadmill. But the next day I noticed that another bra seemed to be missing. Again I figured it would show up. Two days later I hoped to head out to the gym, but realized that not only were three of my bras now missing (a big deal, since I currently have six), but two of my workout tops were missing as well!

I proceeded to hunt for my missing attire - searched all my drawers, looked under my bed and behind the washer and dryer - I even checked the laundry baskets I'd sent upstairs full of my sons' clean laundry. Finally I asked my older son if he'd seen any stray bras kicking around.

"What exactly are you accusing me of, Mom?" he deadpanned.

I explained that I was missing some bras and workout tops and he assured me they hadn't ended up in any of his drawers. I rechecked all the places I'd already looked, and feeling frustrated, called my husband at work to vent. I told him I had looked everywhere I could think of, and was getting a bit paranoid - was some lunatic sneaking into our house and making off with my underwear and workout clothes? I mean, wouldn't he be a bit freaked out if half his underwear suddenly went missing?

He agreed it seemed odd, and suggested a few places to look - all of which I'd already covered.

"I'll help you look when I get home," he told me. "Sometimes when things disappear it just takes another person who's not already frustrated to locate them."

I put my missing attire out of my mind and busied myself with other tasks. And when I opened my husband's closet a few hours later to put something away I noticed the basket of laundry on the floor - all of the items I hadn't bothered to wash before we went away - including thee bras and two workout tops.

When I called my husband to tell him I'd found the missing items I was laughing so hard he couldn't understand me. We were both a bit amazed by the fact that neither of us had thought of the most obvious place to look.

"Please tell me you didn't tell anyone in the office about my missing laundry!" I begged him when he got home.

"Too late" he laughed. "Now they're all calling you The Bra Hunter."

It might take me a while to live that one down - at least until my middle aged brain has another misfire.

Which means we'll all forget that incident soon enough.

Monday, 8 September 2014

Beyond the Boundaries: A Look at Ists and Isms - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

ISTS:

The pessimist sees every flaw
and therefore always doubts;
the anarchist's disdain for law
will keep him on the outs.
The optimist is so upbeat
that he tends to annoy
for he will not admit defeat
and greets each day with joy.
The realists are pragmatic
and see things as they are,
but extremists are fanatic
and take things way too far.
The elitist thinks he's better
than just the average guy,
he's an A-list jet-setter
who hopes to heaven buy.
Revisionists, those editors,
delete what lacks appeal -
and terrorists are predators
with missionary zeal.
A narcissist is self-obsessed
with love enough for one,
and a defeatist is distressed
before the day's half done.
Hedonists think that pleasure
is all we should pursue;
perfectionists are never pleased
with anything they do.
The pacifist believes that peace
should come at any cost -
the pugilist will never cease
to fight, though rounds he's lost.
Theologists keep seeking God,
believing He is there;
while atheists are under-awed
and haven't got a prayer.
I can't be an apologist
for all humanity.
I think perhaps we'd co-exist
a bit more peacefully
if we spent time emphasizing
the common traits we share -
and we practiced empathizing
and demonstrating care.
But we tout our ists and isms
and let them us define -
although they induce schisms,
you have "yours" and I "mine".
I'm aiming to be humanist
in my philosophy -
to be more strict economist
with own theosophy.
In striving for indemnity
we're learning to transcend
our ist and ism enmity;
we're learning how to bend.
And though opinions I may air 
through criticisms here,
I'm hoping you'll my viewpoint share  -
one truth, to me, seems clear.
In spite of our diversity
we really ought to find
a little equanimity
with all of humankind.

By Sharon Flood Kasenberg, August 30, 2014

Human beings are a mass of contradictions. We pay lip service to political correctness while our behaviors too often indicate that we are anything but tolerant. We wave our political and religious views like red flags before us, inciting the irritation and wrath of those who hold other beliefs and opinions. We actively push our philosophies in public venues in hopes of winning over those around us. We are all ridiculously wrong headed about being right.

There was a time, and not so very long ago, when it was considered bad form to discuss religion or politics in social settings. The rationale for this was that social settings provided opportunities to be sociable - to pass the time pleasantly interacting with one another. That can be difficult to do when people become aggressive about imposing their "ists and isms" on a captive audience.

I blog about a wide variety of topics. I like to share my opinions and observations with anyone who wants to read them. However, two subjects I refuse to tackle are religion and politics. My views on those subjects are my own, and not about to become part of the public domain and thus subject to the scrutiny and criticism of the masses. I don't want to be defined by theological beliefs or political leanings. In truth, I hold to a personal set of religious beliefs that are mine alone, and I've voted across the board. Age has granted me experience and opportunities to see that we are all unique individuals. We do not necessarily believe everything the person in the next pew does, even if we do sit in a common congregation. We may not join the political party of the candidate we voted for. We may not wish to define ourselves with an ist or an ism. We may not want to limit others' impressions of ourselves through broadcasting particular religious or political affiliations. Perhaps there are many others who, like myself, just want others to get to know us as individuals before first impressions are muddied by sharing more divisive opinions.

I've come to believe that the world is full of hot buttons just waiting to be pushed. A lot of those buttons can be found on Facebook. Status updates have changed a lot over the past half dozen years. What started with people sharing tidbits about their daily routines has morphed into a somewhat nasty, free-for-all forum where many rather forcefully impose their ideologies, while implying that those whose ideas do not mesh with theirs are simply too stupid to understand "the facts". And lets face it, those "facts" are in a constant state of flux. Google has become adept at tracking our online exchanges and searches, and will now offer each of us the tailor-made "evidence" of our superior intellect and discernment (just Google "filter bubble" for an education). While I can handle people sharing information about a cause that matters to them, I grow increasingly irritated by those who expect me to "like", "share", "re-post" or (worst of all) sign a petition to forward their cause. I don't like the assumption implied that I feel the same way they do - or that I would share their passion for the cause if I was as smart as they are. Furthermore, I feel that I'm being put on the spot - I'm being measured, and may ultimately be found wanting. 

You see, I'm only too well aware that (for many people) sharing opinions isn't enough - they want to know others feel the same way. And sometimes they don't. These people want to convince those around them to embrace the "truth" as they see it. And most times they won't. To those people I offer three little words - get over it. I've been learning this lesson the hard way most of my life - it is a fact that nobody really needs to agree with me. Those who refuse to see things the way I do are every bit as entitled to their opinions as I am to mine They are still (mostly) good people, and we don't need to see eye to eye to care about each other.

I have grown tired of seeing people hide behind their ists and isms - tired of witnessing, and experiencing, the insularity that results when we expect to spend our days surrounded by those who echo back our own dogma. In fact, I'm pretty tired of dogma - period. I think a lot, I believe some things, but I've come to the conclusion that I really don't know much at all - and I'm fine with that. It is oddly liberating to admit to ignorance. I don't want to waste my days arguing with those of you who think you've worked out the answers to everything. I'd rather spend my time on social media being sociable. (I know that sounds like a tall order, but I believe it's possible.) And when I actually see you face to face I'd prefer to spend those precious hours focusing our conversation on what we have in common, rather than on those things about which we disagree. Whatever divisive views we may hold, we can, and should, still be able to find commonalities - we should at least be able to disagree agreeably and get along.

We really don't need to believe alike, or think alike, to love alike.

So if I'm going to be defined as an ist, let me be a pragmatist who believes it just makes more sense to accept, and even try to love, those who view the world differently. Let me be a humanist who has faith in others and their ability to find common ground, for the common good. If I must be defined by an ism - if I need to enroll in a school of thought - I'll choose optimism. Some of you would choose differently, and that's okay.

Feel free to disagree, but I think it just makes sense to maintain hope that we can move beyond the self-imposed boundaries of ist and ism.