White Noise Conversations

How's it going? Have a good one. I relate to my pastor who questioned what ~one~ was. Have a good day. Was I able to help you today? Would you like to take a short survey at the end of our conversation? Paper or Plastic? Press 1 to speak to......press 2 to speak to.....

We can stagnate our lives with the monotonous drone of habitual conversation. Nothing brought it home to me more this week than this emphatic statement of a co-worker. I knew nothing of him other than he grumbled each time I asked how he was. This day was different. "How are you?" I ask. He looks at me and sighs heavily, like he is contemplating saying what is on his mind. He opts in. "Please quit asking." he says. I do my shocked face. "Ok" I respond. He moves down the counter to doctor his coffee, I can tell he feels bad about his reply. "I didn't mean to be rude, just don't ask me how I am unless you really want to know." he says stirring his cup. I had to smile. He looks a little rough around the edges this morning and I am completely confident that he would tell me exactly how he ~is today~ if I pursued. "Deal" I promise. He has been to my counter twice since. And because he slammed the door shut on small talk we have been able to engage in real conversation, i.e, where he's from, the 70's, cuban coffee, etc.

I have to say that his honesty may have changed the path of my life somewhat. I have never had a problem engaging in conversation with anyone. But, I realized that I am capable of projecting my lack of interest by using tiresome, babbling greetings. Of course you can't engage everyone, but at least be sincere in what you DO say. It's the actual emphasis of my words/life that will engage my customers, my friends and my family, not the repetition of the words. I had the impression in my mind that I had been nice to this co-worker every morning as I stretched a (sincere?) smile across my face and asked "How are you?" His take? I was redundant and uncaring. And, he had the gumption to tell me so. It stung for a minute or two. Wilhelm Stekel said, “Candor is always a double-edged sword; it may heal or it may separate.” I found it to go beyond that and open awareness as well. From that moment on, I am undeniably aware of someone else being disinterested when having a conversation.

I exchanged my monologue for being present and have seriously enjoyed some interesting conversations. When someone believes you really care, you become more than the spigot for the coffee cup. More than the retractable hand that takes their money. You have the opportunity to add value to a minute of their day and they in turn do the same for you.

I realize how damning ritualistic living can be. If I can't add some value to the moment, the least I can do is not take away from it. I have laughed out loud, fun... raucous laughing and been saddened to the depths of my soul this week. Just by being available.

Dangers of monotonous monologue.

Husband and wife, Been together eons. They know what each is going to say and do before they say or do it. They are driving to grocery store. Pull up to a stop sign, husband doesn't look and relies on wife's answer to pull out. "Anything coming?" he ask. Wife responds. "No one's coming." He pulls out and they go to heaven, just like that. Emphasis on the word ~No~ could have changed the outcome.

A little Asinine

I keep this pic on the wall by my desk. Not the usual inspirational pic, keeps me grounded though. I have named him Alittleassofmine.William Faulkner said

" A mule will labor 10 years,
willingly, patiently, for the
privilege of kicking you once"

Naturalist, Sort of, Kind of | Mount Pleasant, South Carolina | The Moultrie News

Naturalist, Sort of, Kind of | Mount Pleasant, South Carolina | The Moultrie News

Ginger Pineapple Waldorf Salad

1 Granny Smith apple diced
1 cup cooked chicken diced
1 boiled egg
1/4 cup fresh pineapple
1/4 cup dried cherries
1/4 chopped walnuts
1/2 tbls ground fresh ginger
2 tbls Dukes Mayonnaise
1/4 tsp salt
Combine mayo and ginger in bowl and blend together with fork. Add egg and continue to blend all other ingredients. I opted out of more mayo, add more to your taste

Naturalist, Kind of, Sort of... ~R. Brabham~

Acupressure, hot Showers, tent steam breathing, hot compresses, Ginger Root, Valerian Root, Sarsaparilla, Slippery Elm, Garlic, Pineapple, Echinacea, Ayurvedics, Homemade Chicken Soup, wine, chocolate, 3 boxes of Kleenex.

Dog can't stand to be in room with me. I can't stand to be in room with me. Do they make nose catheters? Broke down and pulled out the OTC's. Theraflu, Benadryl, Aleve. No avail, checking cabinet for my Labrador's antibiotics.

Contagion, probably not the best movie to watch after you have been sick for 5 days. It's 3 a.m. and I am up Googling the Centers For Disease Control, checking US maps for outbreaks of bird, swine or bat viruses. Coughing fit with thermometer stuck in mouth. Is it possible to swallow a thermometer? Can't breathe, pull the wadded Kleenex out of both nostrils. I wonder if they will go back down to normal size.

4 a.m calling my doctor's aftercare line to see when they will open. That small act seemed to make me feel a wee bit better. I will need to re-introduce myself, he won't remember me. I told him when I became his patient that I would be the least seen patient on his roster. That was the last time I saw him. From self-diagnosis, I have determined that I have at least three ~itis's~ Any of which would require a bottle that will send me to bed with a full nights sleep in the future. I am looking forward to Pharmaceutical anything. Warnings and disclaimers welcome.

I console my Naturalist subconscious chastising with assurances that I have rode the train to the end and I must at some point concede to my greater well-being. 2 more hours before the doctor's office opens.

Well..there is one thing I haven't tried.

Keegan-Filion Farm plans meat share program | The Post and Courier, Charleston SC - News, Sports, Entertainment

Keegan-Filion Farm plans meat share program | The Post and Courier, Charleston SC - News, Sports, Entertainment

Photography

I have discovered photography. Now I can kill myself. I have nothing else to learn." - Pablo Picasso

Re-Gifting from the Ultimate Giver | Mount Pleasant, South Carolina | The Moultrie News

Re-Gifting from the Ultimate Giver | Mount Pleasant, South Carolina | The Moultrie News

Re-Gifting from the Ultimate Giver

Acts 20:35 ~There is more happiness in giving than there is in receiving~ This is true unless the giver is the Lord himself whom we can't out give. This story would have remained in total anonymity if not for the circumstances of this week. I was literally God smacked this week by what I thought was total compliance to his word. It just amazes me sometimes that I can feel that I know, that I know, that I know...for certainty ANYTHING!
My sister and I were having a phone conversation around the first week of December. We talked of our longing to do something for someone in the spirit of giving for Christmas. I prayed for guidance to determine a benefactor for a small contribution to a family in our community. I purchased a Christmas Card, signed it with a blessing of Peace and Joy, placed some cash inside and simply signed it neighbor. I called the HOA office of the community and stated that I thought they may know more of who could use the gift better than anyone else and asked if they would give it to anyone in the community they felt had a need. I never told anyone, except my sister. Matthew 6 vs 3. ~But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth~ Anonymity coupled with forgetfulness. One of my finest traits these days. I did just that. Forgot about it and didn't give it a second thought.
My sister and I talked again and she tells me that she and other employees at her hospital office had be-friended a homeless man. They decided this would be their recipient in the spirit of Christmas giving. They bought a new coat, a book bag, toiletries, blankets, wallet and food coupons..and more. In their excitement they gave it to him a couple of weeks before Christmas. The staff gave him his presents and he was overwhelmed with gratitude and the givers heart's are warmed with the meaning of the verse that opened this story.
January 3rd. I sit in my car and open mail retrieved from mailbox before heading to work. I open an envelope and pull out a folded over envelope. It was the card I gave the office. A simple typed message read ~We were unable to find a person in need in our community, therefore, returning this to you~ I sat dumbfounded. So many things went through my mind. But the one that bothered me the most, was that I thought our Lord had rejected the gift in his honor. I can't reason it out, the ultimate optimist. I can't find a meaning that makes sense. Again, in total anonymity, I keep this to myself. It is about to absorb me though. I sit at the computer and nurse the keys...Could I? Should I ask for help in this? I type a letter to my pastor. I am hating this, because I don't want him to think that I need affirmation. But, still no answer from God and I continue typing. I hear a small click click noise and don't think anything of it. I draw a breath and click send. Window's 7 working signal, hmmmm...wonder what's up? Page comes up that ATT&T Broadband is experiencing technical difficulties. "You may try to re-boot your computer" it says. I absentmindedly do so and didn't save the letter. Frustrated, I decide not to tie myself emotionally to the issue anymore today.
I share the letter and card with Don later in the week. I explain my worst case scenario. God rejected my gift. He shared some wonderful insights with me about my adherence to the total anonymity scripture. Once again back into the swing of a busy week. I put the matter aside once again.
This morning, finally able to catch up a bit, I call my sister. We small talk for a bit and I decide to tell her about the rejected gift. After hearing me out, she tells me that she had dealt with a similar issue this week. She says "You know the homeless man that we gave the coat and gifts too?" "Yes" I reply. "He died" she says. My gut wrenched. She said that unbelievably, here in SC, he died of hypothermia. He told her previously that he tried to make it to the shelter on cold nights before the shut off time. Who is to know if he didn't make it on time? She also had told me that he was articulate and intelligent and spoke often of his blessings, even in his dire circumstances. Somehow the word came back to the office that had befriended him that he had died. Also, that he had a large family that cared for him. He had been a minister, but suffered with breakdowns before he left for the streets. They had tried to retrieve him, but he continued to leave. My sister said she and her co-workers were trying to deal with the loss, with the questions of how their gifts had not sustained his life...etc. She told her co-workers that maybe he hadn't crossed their paths for their help. Maybe God had placed him there to bless THEM.
The reality of the parallel situations didn't hit me until about one hour later. He died the same day my return gift was postmarked. My sister was right in telling them that their gifts weren't rejected. My gift wasn't rejected either. The plans, the outcomes are ALL his, none of them are ours. Sometimes our father just wants to see if we have a willing heart. The big lesson he taught me? He is the King of Anonymity, it is his creation. He has the choice to keep the presents unopened until he reveals them to us, or re-gift them. And I am the happy recipient of the re-gift and apparently, the needy person in my community.

Is That A Noodle In Your Eye? Renae Brabham

Cooking dinner at 5:30 in the morning. Spaghetti. Looked at my calendar. Almost the end of the year. I stir my pot of sauce and bend to inhale the aromas of the spices I added. I did a quick year in review while I put a pot of water on to boil for pasta. I noted that I had eluded the usual barrage of dangerous or just plain weird experiences this year and landed here in January, virtually unscathed. I chastise my mind for thinking it with two whole days left before the year is over.
The year was pretty normal. Define normal? Better to suffice it to say there have been over 50 of them that haven't been. I did a little re-wind of 2010. Early morning walks on IOP. Quiet days on Pitt Bridge with Don, a few crab pots and lines in water. Spending time with my brother and family at the same crab hole. A day of food and fun and catching up with all the brothers and sister at Mom and Dads. Ya Ya days on Wadmallaw Island, trespassing and giggling our way through a beautiful Carolina Saturday. Amos Lee concert. See Wee Shell Ring with a friend, standing on a boardwalk at the edge of the world holding our hands out to the sky for Dragonflies to land on us. Hi-jacking a golf cart left unnatended at hospital with a friend, flying full throttle around the hospital, gunning it over speed bumps. A day trekking it through past and present in Awendaw and McClellanville with Suzannah Miles. Beach day with daughter and son and grandbabies. Downtown with Don at the Dock Street Theatre watching ~A Christmas Carol~ . Holiday food and friends and fun for Christmas. Chinese restaurant and movie day on Christmas. Good stuff.
No noteworthy weird happenstances. Water's boiling and I pull out the box of Angel Hair Pasta. I break the pasta to throw in pot. Boing...a piece of pasta hits my eye. No...it's in my eye. Now it is somewhere at the top of my eye, near my third eye. Well, if it stays up there it may not scratch my cornea and cause me to go blind. Maybe I need to do the eye rinse. Oh, that's right, I don't have one of those eye wash cups. There, a brandy snifter. Now getting your eye to drink water is comparable to getting your baby in the high chair to open his mouth for that spoon of peas that he hates. I put the glass up to my eye. Involuntary shutters. Nope, wont open. Now I am talking to my eyeballs. Come on now, I say as I pull down my lower lid to put the glass up to it again. I pour fast, eye shuts faster. Water runs down my face. Okie Dokie, this isn't going to work.
Should I google ~What happens to spaghetti noodles if they get stuck in your eyeball?~ Decide against googling. Opt for the scientific approach to problem. Ok...my body temp is 98 degrees. Not really warm enough to cook the pasta shard. I pull out a petri dish (custard bowl) and put a piece of pasta in the dish and cover it with lukewarm water. Ok, when this noodle has become soft, then maybe the one in my eye will do the same. I come back in 30 minutes to test the noodle, gummy but firm. One hour, pliable but still not al dente'.
I had this second of panic at 1 1/2 hours when I realize that I may be at work when this becomes solvent. I picture myself talking to a customer and they look at me in horror as a noodle starts working it's way out of my eyeball. Well, it's been 3 hours and the noodle is limp. No sign of it yet. But I can always use another noodle upstairs. Cooking dinner at 5:30 in the morning. Spagetti. Looked at my calendar. Almost the end of the year. I stir my pot of sauce and bend to inhale the aromas of the spices I added. I did a quick year in review while I put a pot of water on to boil for pasta. I noted that I had eluded the usual borrage of dangerous or just plain weird experiences this year and landed here in January, virtually unscathed. I chasitise my mind for thinking it with two whole days left before the year is over.
The year was pretty normal. Define normal? Better to suffice it to say there have been over 50 of them that haven't been. I did a little re-wind of 2010. Early morning walks on IOP. Quiet days on Pitt Bridge with Don, a few crab pots and lines in water. Spending time with my brother and family at the same crab hole. A day of food and fun and catching up with all the brothers and sister at Mom and Dads. Ya Ya days on Wadmallaw Island, trespassing and giggling our way through a beautiful Carolina Saturday. Amos Lee concert. See Wee Shell Ring with a friend, standing on a boardwalk at the edge of the world holding our hands out to the sky for Dragonflies to land on us. Hi-jacking a golf cart left unnatended at hospital with a friend, flying full throttle around the hospital, gunning it over speed bumps. A day trekking it through past and present in Awendaw and McClellanville with Suzannah Miles. Beach day with daughter and son and grandbabies. Downtown with Don at the Dock Street Theatre watching ~A Christmas Carol~ . Holiday food and friends and fun for Christmas. Chinese restaurant and movie day on Christmas. Good stuff.
No noteworthy weird happenstances. Water's boiling and I pull out the box of Angel Hair Pasta. I break the pasta to throw in pot. Boing...a piece of pasta hits my eye. No...it's in my eye. Now it is somewhere at the top of my eye, near my third eye. Well, if it stays up there it may not scratch my cornea and cause me to go blind. Maybe I need to do the eye rinse. Oh, that's right, I don't have one of those eye wash cups. There, a brandy snifter. Now getting your eye to drink water is comparable to getting your baby in the high chair to open his mouth for that spoon of peas that he hates. I put the glass up to my eye. Involuntary shutters. Nope, wont open. Now I am talking to my eyeballs. Come on now, I say as I pull down my lower lid to put the glass up to it again. I pour fast, eye shuts faster. Water runs down my face. Okie Dokie, this isn't going to work.
Should I google ~What happens to spagetti noodles if they get stuck in your eyeball?~ Decide against googling. Opt for the scientific approach to problem. Ok...my body temp is 98 degrees. Not really warm enough to cook the pasta shard. I pull out a petri dish (custard bowl) and put a piece of pasta in the dish and cover it with lukewarm water. Ok, when this noodle has become soft, then maybe the one in my eye will do the same. I come back in 30 minutes to test the noodle, gummy but firm. One hour, pliable but still not al dente'.
I had this second of panic at 1 1/2 hours when I realize that I may be at work when this becomes solvent. I picture myself talking to a customer and they look at me in horror as a noodle starts working it's way out of my eyeball. Well, it's been 3 hours and the noodle is limp. No sign of it yet. But I can always use another noodle upstairs. Pin It