My obsession confession

I can become obsessed and single-minded at times...focused on one thing...and I occasionally have to fight this overpowering urge of focus...of obsession...this need...this incredible desire.

It's difficult for me to control...and I haven't really found a support group that can help me out. I've dealt with this problem since I was little...I mean, really young...

it's...it's hard for me to think about...but I can assure you that I don't ever intend to quit!

Still, I feel I need to talk to you...if for no other reason than to perhaps understand myself better.

My obsession is this:

jigsaw puzzles

Yeah, you read that right. Jigsaw puzzles. Just typing those two words makes me a little giddy...a little light-headed...whoa.


I.love.jigsaw.puzzles.

I do. I began putting the pieces into place at an early age and the staying power it has for mezmerizing me is astounding. I love easy ones...3D ones...I'll do a puzzle with someone or by myself. I love them.

Had a Yogi Bear puzzle as a kid. A hamburger puzzle as a teen. I just completed a rooster puzzle at Mom's the other day. And I know there are more jigsaws in my future.

There has to be!

Here's the deal: I can't NOT attempt to put pieces in place if there's a puzzle anywhere about. The Cancer Center where Mom has a doc that she sees once in a while has a table set up with a jigsaw. Just the other day we were there...and as soon as the nurse led Mom back for her appt., I was planted in a chair at that table, eagerly picking up pieces and figuring out where they go.

I love puzzles. I love how the pieces feel in my hand. I relish the satisfying 'snick' when a piece is put into it's proper place. I enjoy sorting the outside pieces from the inside pieces.

I can sit at a table, doing a puzzle, and lose track of time. Easily. I'm not kidding. I literally lost track of time in 1979 because I was working on a puzzle of Rip Van Winkle. Began it on Monday the 20th and when I finished it, the newspaper told me it was 1984.

You see, when I get really involved with a puzzle...nothing else matters. It's me...and the pieces...and the big picture of the finished puzzle. And this overpowering urge to complete it...

Oh, sometimes it's not all fun. Sometimes my brow furrows...when I think I've got a piece in the right place...but the fit isn't right. No worries, though. The challenge continues. And the challenge helps make it fun.

When I was about 11 years old, I had a Shaun Cassidy jigsaw puzzle. And I would put that thing together and take it apart and put it together and take it apart...and I got to this place in my mind where I began timing myself...to see how long it took me to complete that picture. To finish the puzzle.


I think my fastest time was like, 7 minutes. I wrote a letter to Shaun telling him of my victory and he wrote a song about it.

Well, he should've written a song. Because I felt it was quite an accomplishment.

Jigsaw puzzles, for me, are about a variety of things. They're about creativity, and concentration, and control. Eye candy...especially the really tough ones that use similiar colors and items like flowers or cars or water...to make your mind work even harder.

They satisfy the Monk in me by giving me a false sense of control. Of giving me the ability to sort...and categorize...and determine what happens next. Do I complete the sky? Or do I work on the log cabin? Ah Ha Ha....I rub my hands together and feel a little like Frankenstein's creator...striving to finish my creation.

Told you I had a problem with puzzles. :)

Here's my pondering for today:

Sometimes I think we're all pieces in this big ol' jigsaw puzzle. And Someone is placing us in our proper place. To complete this beautiful picture.

Here's the other thing about jigsaw puzzles. There is nothing more depressing...or maddening...or disappointing...than realizing that there is a piece that's missing.


You, my friend, are a very important piece of the puzzle. You're just as necessary as a corner piece...or the cat's eye...or the wheel on the wagon. The big picture needs you.

I need you. As puzzling as that may seem...

Tell me more...tell me more!!

I started reading at a very early age.

In fact, by the time I was in the first grade, I was such a good reader that my teacher sent me to the second grade for reading class...because the first grade curriculum just wasn't 'challenging enough'.

But I'm not here to brag about my early learning experiences. That's just part of it...heehee...

If you had asked me, I would've told you the plain and simple truth. It didn't involve brains or intellect. It wasn't that I was some sort of "Super Student". It was...simply...this:

I love a good story!

I can't help it! There's something about starting with "Once upon a time..." and getting to the "happily ever after" that I think we all enjoy. Oh, not every good story ends or begins with those exact words...but I believe we all want to hear someone tell us about their life. So we can compare it to ours....or find out what we have in common...or find out about a certain place...or just to laugh. Or cry. We love a good story.

Maybe that's why reality television is so popular?

But I'm not here to talk about Survivor...or the Biggest Loser. I'm here to talk about a boy named Tommy.

This boy had the most exciting life! I mean...he was almost killed by my uncle Rick several times over...he survived (just barely!) a family vacation that involved a terrorizing group of raccoons in the garbage cans....and he was constantly riding around either on this pony or in a go-cart. The kid was something else!

At least to hear my Grandma tell it.

My love of Story began with Dr. Seuss' "And to think that I saw it on Mulberry Street"...but it was my Grandma who cinched my love of Story by telling me and my sister about my Dad's childhood. Those family vacations...and incidents with raccoons...and go carts...and historic fights that he and our uncle Rick had together! Those stories were better than TV! My sister and I found out over the years that Dad was cool! This COULD NOT be the same person we lived with!

My Grandma may not have known exactly what kind of 'monster' she was helping to create, though. I fell in love with Story and it's consumed me...this love affair...and it's continued throughout my life.

From high school diaries that tell 'my' story...to learning the art of acting and being able to tell the stories of others on stage...to becoming a grown up and telling stories every so often around a family campfire. I realize the power Story has in my life.

So much power, in fact, that I've been paid for telling stories to elementary school students. So much power that I've spent close to 900 kaprillion dollars on scrapbooking supplies just for the opportunity to journal about a birthday party. To record a special event. To tell the Story.

Yesterday, the power of Story came up again. I found myself with a captive audience wanting to hear more. "Tell us more about Hannah growing up!" I heard. So I did.

And I thought of my Grandma right then. Did she understand the POWER of Story?

Do we? Really?

Do you, my friend, understand how important it is that you share some of yourself with others? You have incredible influence in people's lives...and you may not realize it...but someone is listening to you. What are you telling them?

You are a main character in a very good story. And someone wants to hear more...I encourage you today to share a piece with someone. And I also encourage you to listen. Who knows? You may find yourself falling in love with Story...

and living happily ever after. The End.

The Best Medicine...

You know who doesn't have a very good sense of humor?

Cats.

Cats do not have a good sense of humor. I think that's what makes them so funny.

They cannot laugh at themselves.


Growing up, we had cats. And on more than one occasion, one of our cats would do something goofy that would crack me up.

I don't believe any of those times was ever intentional. The cat never tried to make me laugh.

But I laughed just the same.

Because I love a good joke.

Those of you who know me...know I'm speaking the truth. Heck, I even tolerate bad jokes.

I can't help myself. I get all excited and tingly when someone says, "Hey...did you hear the one about...?"

I love jokes so much that I will frequently go into JCM with people (JCM stands for Joke Courtesy Mode-the state of listening to a previously heard joke with the same excitement/anticipation as the first time of hearing it). Everyone needs some JCM. I mean, nothing's as disappointing as having someone burst your bubble by saying, "That's no sandwich! That's my wife!" right before you get to say it.

My son is in jr. high. He comes home with jokes on a daily basis. And a lot of them require severely high dosages of JCM. And a lot of them are pretty sad.
But I listen to every one. Because I know how good it is to laugh.

And lately, I have been taking advantage of every opportunity I can to laugh. Because I haven't felt very good.

Physically, emotionally, mentally. All areas that are ailing. All areas that have greatly benefited from a big ol' belly laugh.

It's therapeutic, I'm told. And I believe it.

Take the other night, for instance...

Steve, my husband (who normally ISN'T very humorous!), did this funny voice thing and made me crack up.

The laughter felt good. Steve was pleased with himself and continued to do the voice. I laughed harder.

And the fact that he made me laugh so hard made me laugh even harder.

I went into a giggling fit. It got so bad that he became annoyed with me.

Kinda reminded me of a cat. Which was pretty humorous itself. Picturing my hubby as a kitty cat....heeheehee.

Picture this: here's me on the bed, laughing. Steve smiles at my laughter for a second...then, as he realizes I'm not 'slowing down'...begins to frown a little.

"It wasn't that funny!" he claims, indignantly. Which...snicker...just made me laugh harder!

"C'mon. Knock it off." he says. I can see he's baffled by my laughter and I want to stop. Honestly! I do!

But I can't. Have you ever been there? Do you know what that's like? To want to STOP laughing?

I'm trying to get myself under control. And Steve? He totally looks like a ticked off cat now!

Finally, in true 'ticked off cat' fashion...he got up and left. In a huff.

I laughed and laughed.

And felt better!

My friends, find something to laugh at today. However, I wouldn't recommend Steve. I don't think he'll get it...

Because I'm Worth It...Priceless

I don't know about you...but the media is killin' me with all the economy talk.

Seriously. I find myself thinking I was back in "Little House on the Prairie" times...that it would just be easier to get by these days with a horse...milkin' my own cow and making my own clothes. That it would be easier to not have to wrestle with school activity fees...and messing with school fundraisers...and trying to deal with where my money goes.

And people.

Sigh.

People in need.

And I gotta tell you...it's difficult for me to find the 'extra money' to give to 'people in need'...when I'm trying to figure out my own stuff, you know??!!

Maybe I'm a 'people in need'...

And then there are the needy people in my life.

Do you know what I'm talking about? These folks don't necessarily need my money.

Relationships. They can cost so much...we try to save a little time for ourselves and someone comes along and charges us extra. We invest in our children's lives...our friendships...because we know that they're worth something and I value my relationships greatly.

Wow. Is the tv on? Do you hear all that money talk?

Here. I'll help you out.

Relationships. They can cost so much...we try to save a little time for ourselves and someone comes along and charges us extra. We invest in our children's lives...our friendships...because we know that they're worth something and I value my relationships greatly.

People...relationships....are not a commodity. Donald Miller talks about that some in his book, "Blue Like Jazz".

It's hard to talk about people and not use those words. See, I think you're valuable. But valuable is a 'money' word. I can want you to realize how much you're worth. But again...a cash amount seems to be appropriate here.

You're actually not valuable.

You're invaluable.

Dictionary.com says invaluable is an adjective describing something that is "beyond calculable or appraisable value".

Can't even buy life insurance for you...because you're beyond dollar amounts! :)

Do you understand that?

Do you realize how much you matter?? How rare you are? What a find you could be?

It's big stuff. Just like the stock market news...I find it difficult to wrap my brain around...

You matter to me. You matter to God. You need to matter to yourself...

and other people need to matter to you.

Because we're all invaluable. Each one of us. From babies who can't seem to sleep thru the night to great grandmas that don't remember our names anymore. From our best friend to our worst enemy.

All invaluable. All matter.

It is so easy, my friends, to calculate our relationships. To determine what the 'fair amount' is on our time...our effort...what our 'payback' will be...

I do it. I'm sure you do it as well. I don't want to reach out to this person or that person because it's not worth the investment...

or...

or we don't think we're worth the investment. We become martyrs...giving so much of our 'cashflow' to others that our account is 'empty' or 'overdrawn'...and we don't take care of ourselves because we've put ourself last.

You, my friend, are more than a dollar sign to me. You're like a great piece of art...or furniture...or that ages old quilt. You're priceless...

and you can...um...take that to the bank.

Busdriver! MOVE THAT COUCH!

It's been noisy at my house lately. Dictionary.com (my lil buddy!) says that "noisy" is defined as: Making a noise, esp. a loud sound; clamorous; vociferousem>emturbulent; boisterous; as, the noisy crowd.

Hm. Vociferous, by the way...is my "word for the day"...and I will try to use it at least twice (most likely using it incorrectly! Just because I like the sound of the word!). Vociferous means: conspicuously and offensively loud; given to vehement outcry

Offensively loud. Yeah....I think vociferous describes my situation to a tee.

Here's the deal though. My house isn't noisy in the "neighbors are gonna call the cops" kind of way. It's more of an internal thing.

In fact, I've been considering Feng Shui as a way to 'fix the problem'. Dictionary.com (again!) tells me that Feng Shui is: the Chinese art or practice of creating harmonious surroundings that enhance the balance of yin and yang, as in arranging furniture or determining the siting of a house.

I think "yin" and "yang" might be "Hannah" and "Jacob" in Chinese. Or maybe "Shut" and "Up"...or perhaps it means "gin" and "tonic". I'm not quite sure...

I do, however, wonder if it would really work. If I moved my couch over three inches and placed a red pillow in the room somewhere...if my yin and yang would be balanced.

It's a good question. I'm sure that there are some of you out there right now saying, 'FENG SHUI ROCKS! IT REALLY WORKS! DO IT, C.! DO IT!' (You'll see a difference in three days...if not fully satisfied, simply return the pillow to its orignal position and stop making fun of Feng Shui in an infomercial sort of way!)

I don't know that moving my couch will stop the noisiness inside of me.

The Serenity Prayer says: God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Hm...serenity is defined (thanks again, Dictionary.com!!!) as:

1. a disposition free from stress or emotion [syn: repose]
2. the absence of mental stress or anxiety
calm, or tranquil(Free from commotion or disturbance)

Okay. Serenity sounds like what I need in my house. Perhaps I can set it next to the couch??

The prayer goes on to say "wisdom to know the difference"...and I think I've got some of that wisdom today.

I'd love to share it with you. Ready? Okay!

(I did NOT just sound like a cheerleader then, did I? Cuz that's...um...scary!)

Okay..."courage to change the THINGS I can"

THINGS...

THINGS (like couches)

THINGS...

not people.

Oh boy. That's insightful. Part of my noisiness has a lot to do with wanting people to change.

I'm soberly considering the fact that Feng Shui has got the right idea...

I can move my couch....I cannot move Brad...or Sharon...or Phil...or whatever Romper Room name you want to insert here...the fact is...that we do have some control over things...but not people.

And here's the other part: we don't really have that much control over things!!!

Oh...I guess we can move our couches...and the balance in our living room might shift...but the Serenity Prayer goes on to say this:

Living one day at a time; enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;

Um...not 'moving couches' is the 'pathway to peace'??

Acceptance is.

Wow.

Listen, I've got to run....I just want you to consider today the idea of "acceptance" vs. "noisiness"...

Hey! How'd this pillow get here!!??

Is this a kissing book?

One of my most favorite movies of all time is The Princess Bride. And one of my favorite scenes in the movie is this one:

Grandpa: [voiceover] Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure as ordering Wesley around.

Buttercup: Farm boy, polish my horse's saddle. I want to see my face shining in it by morning.

Wesley: As you wish.

Grandpa: [voiceover] "As you wish" was all he ever said to her.

Buttercup: Farm boy, fill these with water - please.

Wesley: As you wish.

Buttercup: Farm boy... fetch me that pitcher.
[It's right over her head, so he has to stand next to her]

Wesley: As you wish.
[Cut to them kissing]


The Grandson: [interrupting] Hold it, hold it. What is this? Are you trying to trick me? Where's the sports? [suspiciously] Is this a kissing book?

I saw this movie for the first time on a date. I was with a guy that I thought was amazing. Just an incredible guy. I was smitten. Seriously. I would've done just about anything for him.

Who was this guy? Um...well, it's been a long time ago...and I think his last name starts with a....um...R? Maybe?

Does it matter?

Well, C., you just said that you really thought a lot about this guy and would do anything for him...but you can't even remember his name now? That's kinda lame. What kind of relationship was that?

I was young.

I uh...I thought I loved him...but maybe I didn't really understand what love is.

And, my friends...I'm STILL not sure I understand love. Sigh. But there are some things about love that I DO understand now.

I think The Princess Bride gives us a great visual of love.

When you love someone very much...you put their needs before your own. You want the best for them...you're not thinking of yourself necessarily. You want to please them.

Such was the case with Wesley, the farm boy. He did what Buttercup asked of him, not to win her approval of him...but simply because he loved her.

And the more she piled on...the more he obeyed her. Without complaint. Because all he wanted was to be with her.

Do you have that kind of relationship with someone?

Seriously?

I mean, c'mon...it's the movies, for cryin' out loud....that doesn't happen in real life!

Does it?

Now I'd like you to consider your relationship with God. When He speaks to you...is your response to God, "As you wish?"

When we love someone...we want their happiness. We want them to know that we care about them. So we serve them. Take care of their requests...as they wish.

Is that what you say to God?

It's a good question.

I think that when we love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength...we desire to obey Him...to do the things He asks of us...it should be our response.

However...I also think that we can "do" a bunch of stuff for God and never say, "As you wish." to Him. Not once.

These 'chores' just become things we check off of a list. Rules that we follow to try and get into heaven...or at least, find heavenly acceptance.

That doesn't sound like intimacy. That doesn't sound like closeness.

It's like...well, what if Wesley just did the chores around the farm, but didn't speak to Buttercup at all? The movie wouldn't be nearly as interesting...
he and Buttercup would never have had that 'connection'...that kiss. Sure, things would've gotten done...but Wesley and Buttercup would've missed out on a really good time together.

Hm.

Consider this:

God loves you very much. But not because of the things that you do! He made a huge sacrifice of Himself so that he could have a relationship with you. He wants that more than anything.

My friends, I encourage you to look God in the eye and say, "As You Wish."

Just once.

Fail

So my Mom had cataract surgery on Monday. Everything went fine...except that she's lost her debit card.

Well...I guess I lost her debit card. As I was the last one to 'see it alive' before it went missing. Without a trace.

(I gotta stop watching so many crime shows!)

I've looked everywhere for the stupid card. I can't find it. Sigh.

I felt really bad. And yesterday, when we realized it was gone....I felt even worse than awful. I badmouthed myself until I was blue in the face...I got all clenched up inside. And I was cranky (to say the least!)...and not really much fun to be around for a while.

Until I let it go!!!

Let go of what, you ask?

I let go of my 'control of things'...and I stoppped being so hard on myself and the fact that I am not perfect. I mess up. I do clumsy, irresponsible things. Not all the time, mind you...but just enough to remind me that I screw up.

I fail.

Do you ever fail?

How does that make you feel? Crummy?

Couple of thoughts: When it comes to God...He is not suprised by our failure. Not ever. When we have a relationship with Him...there is never a time that God says, "WHAT? C. LOST A DEBIT CARD? WHAT IS WRONG WITH HER? SHE CAN'T DO A THING RIGHT, I TELL YA! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH HER DISAPPOINTING ME? WELL...THAT'S IT! WE'RE DONE HERE! SHE ISN'T WORTH THE TROUBLE!"

(Now...sometimes I think He just shakes His head and rubs His temple at my behavior...but that may be all in my head...I dunno!) :)

Let's get back to the card. My losing the card is a fine example of how we think we have some control over our life...and yet...there are still variables that come into play that we didn't consider in our grand scheme of things.

We cannot anticipate every possible outcome. We do not know everything.

But when we think we have control...when a relatively intelligent, somewhat organized woman misplaces a debit card...and freaks when she cannot find it...even tho she is ALMOST SURE she gave it back to her Mom....well, it's not peaceful. It's chaotic. And it's a good reminder that we're wanting things our way...not God's way.

Recently someone commented about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Was He disappointed in the disciples' behavior? I've been praying and thinking about this particular part of the Bible...and here's what I'd like to consider:

Jesus-disappointed or not (I'm still not sure I've come to a conclusion here), remembered the Big Picture...remembered that He had asked God in prayer that God's will be done...not Jesus'. And when He saw the disciples sleeping...He didn't say, "That's it! I'm through with you!" He used the moment to remind them to pray, to be alert...so they don't enter the danger zone.

I think I entered that danger zone yesterday. And while I wasn't in there for very long...there was still some 'damage' that was done...because I wasn't thinking of the big picture...I was focused on my own expectations and how I failed.

When our expectations aren't met...we aren't fun to be around. We become judgemental, angry, hard, bitter, annoyed, sad people. I was all of those things yesterday...at myself. And it shouldn't have been like that.

Why, you ask?

Consider this: while I was thinking of myself...and my failure...and my anger at losing the card...I may have fallen 'asleep'.

I may have missed an opportunity to be in the garden with God...

Do you understand that? When I live with expectations...I'm focused on me. When I have expectations of others, I'm focused on them. I'm keeping score...and determining who passes....and who fails.

But God...

God lives in expectancy...wanting us to share our lives with Him...not spend our valuable time 'doing' things to meet some criteria that says we're 'good'. It's the time that we spend with Him that helps us to be 'good'...not the things that we 'do'.

My friends, it's the relationship that is important to God...not the rules.