Blog or white ... because it never is.

.Three men I hardly know influenced my life yesterday.  The first man is one that lives in my building.  Before yesterday, I didn't know his name but we were familiar enough to talk in the elevator or lobby when we saw each other.  We would talk about the weather or sports and he was always kind enough to ask about my grandson.  Yesterday, I saw him in the lobby and before I could say hello, he said "I am not doing well."  He recently experienced a loss and he took a risk confiding in an acquaintance.  We talked for a long time and made a plan to talk again.  It was weird exchanging phone numbers with someone when we didn't even know each other's first names.  We hugged and he cried real tears.  People were walking by and he was still crying real tears.  What a brave and honest man.  He was hurting and didn't care who knew.  He was crying in public and essentially honoring the person he lost.  That is a man worth knowing.  Someone willing to share that he

Andrew Stambrook will be turning 56 this year and most of his life, he has been volunteering throughout his entire life.  After his parent's divorced in his teens, he was looking for some guidance.  One of the high school gym teachers saw his struggle and reached out.  Unfortunately, Andrew was not very athletic, but the coach encouraged his involvement in helping to manage teams, to officiate, and to do other things to connect him with sports and expose him to many potential friends. His first volunteer experience was as a Big Brother.  He got involved with that organization because he was a child of divorced parents and wanted to provide guidance to young boys who were experiencing the loss of the father figure.  He had many successful matches and it was then, that he first discovered that volunteering was so rewarding.  His leadership skills were recognized by the staff of the organization and he was successful in obtaining a position on their Board of Governors.  H

Whenever I go to an event that suggests a contribution to the local food bank, I go to my pantry and usually chose a few cans of beans.  They are the same cans of beans that I have bought with the greatest intentions because I have read a great new recipe requiring several types of beans. Somehow, it never gets made mostly because I have never developed a great appetite for beans.  I also always seem to have some no name packages of macaroni and cheese.  I don't know how they end up in my pantry since they never seem to be used for anything except donations to food banks.  I recently read an article indicating that I wasn't a very "good" giver.  I have been donating things that I wasn't willing to consume.  What message am I sending myself about people who use food banks? Obviously, I am thinking that they are not "worth" what I would choose to eat.  Which I don't believe is what I think or what I intend to think.  I remember times in my life whe

The last 36 hours have been interesting.  I got my hair cut and I couldn't be happier.  I was waaay overdue and a little desperate.  I went to a place I have never been before and was able to get in right away.  I had a great haircut and a great conversation with the stylist who shared her story with me.  I felt really privileged to hear her journey.  I tipped 36%.  My man and I went for a nice dinner out.  The server was a professional server, you know the kind that strives to get a $10 tip per diner.  He accomplished that because we gave him our first $20.20 tip of the decade.  I played some cards to celebrate the Year of the Rat.  It has been a long time since I did that and I was humbled by the reception I got from some dealers.  They were so genuinely happy to see me.  I do tip well, but, I don't think it was why they were happy to see me.  I think it is because in a world where you can choose to be anything, I try to choose to be kind.  Oh, yeah, something else happened

End the stigma has been a popular hashtag for the last decade.  People from all walks of life have been talking publicly about mental illness and wellness hoping to educate and to end the stigma.  I never understood this,  I was naive but I didn't understand why people would have trouble acknowledging an illness in themselves or others and seeking help. I didn't understand the stigma until about 10 years ago.  It was about that time that I told my boyfriend that I felt that he had depression.  It turned out to be a turning point in his life.  He spent so much of his life watching others seemingly go through life effortlessly and not understanding why his life was so hard.  He didn't understand why he always struggled to smile.  He became so excited that he might have a treatable disease.  He made an appointment with his medical provider for diagnosis and medication and began therapy.  He started reading everything he could and started to change his life for the better.

I have a friend who radiates joy.  She is living her best life.  She is truly remarkable and has discovered that you give is what you get. She gives the universe her light and that is what she gets back.  When she is lacking, she finds a way to attract what she needs.  She is also grateful for what she has.  Her life isn't perfect but she focuses on the 90% that is and doesn't pay much energy to the other 10%.  She also loves tacos.  Any kind of tacos.  She loves them.  Can't get enough tacos.  I've always liked tacos but now I love them too.  Tuesday comes and I want a taco.  I need comfort food and I crave a taco.  You can even make a keto taco.  Tacos are love.  A new decade has started and people are posting profound messages on social media.  The following really made me stop and think: If someone wants to break your tacos, let them.  You will have nachos and they will have messy hands.  Read that again.  If someone wants to break your tacos, let them.