Change Your Thinking One Day at a Time? Right.

I walk my dogs every morning from our cozy little spot on the hill down into the town and along the waterfront. We walk along the fishermen's wharf and wave hello to the regulars who congregate there. My trash-collecting habit amuses some of the guys, who laugh at me and shake their heads, and others thank me for my "service". I find all sorts of things from empty cans and bottles to scratch tickets and even occasionally discarded waitstaff shirts from a local eatery or two - I've started a collection of these just to see how many I can score in a year. Thank you, disgruntled staffers discarding their summer jobs and the shirts along with them!

Yoshi hoping for a duck dinner on our morning walk

Since absenting myself from the knitting world, social media, and this blog I've been pretty introspective. I've spent a lot of time in prayer and Bible reading, and a lot of time allowing God to show me who I am and what I am supposed to be doing instead of trying to do everything all on my own. The truth is I have no answers to anything on my own, although I've spent a lot of time trying to prove that I did. I've stopped trying.

Low tide at the wharf

It's probably not a secret that I have struggled with anxiety and depression. I have not handled stress nearly as well as I might have. And I've had an uneasy relationship with money; once I get into any sort of a role where I begin making it for my own benefit, even in small amounts, I run fast and far in the opposite direction. Success terrifies me. My thought stream tends to be negative. I compare myself to others, which is self-defeating on all levels. I want those things to change.

Really low tide in the bay

One of the things that's always puzzled me is the ability of some people to be so damned cheerful in the face of...well, frankly, life in general. How do they DO this? How can they just be so bloody happy, as if nothing around them matters, like they cannot SEE the giant horse on the dining room table, and how can they not SEE that huge thing?!? Then add on the peculiar experiences of some of us, and I wonder how anyone even gets out of bed, let alone chirps along joyously, quipping about the beauties of life. Maybe I just started off on the wrong foot. My role models were, I suppose, not exactly what you could call "healthy". Even my father, for all of his awesomeness, struggled with the day to day thing we call living, and often ended up a bit more on the side of pessimism and sarcasm than might be considered ideal. And I have said before I am a slow learner. I think I meant it.

Since becoming a Young Living independent distributor and setting some goals related to that, I've become increasingly aware of just how much negative thinking I do, and how much that leads to self doubt and negativity, depressive feelings, stress, anxiety, and the lot. I'd also like to point out here that I have set myself up in an attempt to be successful in a field with something like a 92% "failure" rate - multi-level marketing, network marketing - these are areas where the vast majority fail, and very few succeed. And here I am; pessimistic, negative, freaky little me, thinking this is something I can do.

And now we get back to the walk, the one I take every morning with the dogs. As I walk along I think about things. I plan my day. I consider what I am going to do with all the can and lottery ticket money (I've decided to donate it). I think about deeper things - about life and choices and consequences, and about how I need to step back and allow God to change me, from the inside out, one day at a time.

The steps and revelations are TINY most days. I try not to even look at "how far I've come" because the snail pace would put me under a quilt (or possibly my crocheted Noro Silk Garden afghan), tucked neatly and tightly around my (wide) eyes, quaking with panic.

Today as we were walking along I saw a can behind a fence in a public area. It was covered with spider webs and all manner of ick. I wanted it. I will bend over for a nickel, it's true, even if I have to rinse that nickel out and take it to the local bottle center on Monday morning (where they guy now recognizes me, jokes about my "coffee money" and congratulates me on my weekly "earnings"). I love gleaning cans even more now that I have a plan for the money that puts it into better hands than mine. So there was this trapped can, and I wanted it. I thought to myself "I can't get that can. It's behind the fence and it's covered in spider webs. I can't." Doom and gloom and pessimism and a lost nickel!

But what if ...and it hit me heavy, this small, simple thing... what if I chose to look at that can in a completely different way? What if instead of saying "I can't..." I said "That can is behind a fence. I can get it if I want to. But... (Wait. Red flag! NO BUTS!! Instead say...) That can is covered in spider webs. I CHOOSE not to put my hand through the fence to get that can." And I walked away, leaving the nickel behind.

So. Simple.

So. Small.

So important.

Day by day, one day at a time, one small step at a time, my entire way of thinking, of viewing the world, of engaging with others, of being in spaces is changing. And I love it and I am SO grateful!

Avoiding the Plague While Saving the Planet

The boys and I go for a walk in our new home town daily. During these walks I have a tendency (this is a mild word for my search and destroy missions...) to pick up trash and bottles and cans from the side of the road.  Yes, I am THAT crazy lady in your home town! This drives Mr. W up a tree when he walks with us, so I try not to do it when he's along for the ride unless it's something irresistible, like a case of empty beer cans, or  those darned loopy plastic can holders that strangle birds. But the rest of the week you can find me bending and stooping to pick up everything from empty nip bottles (there but for the grace of God go I) to scratched lottery tickets ($25 in dropped winners to date - you can't win if you don't pick 'em up!) and soda cans, to the occasional bit of used drug paraphernalia. I carry hand sanitizer and gloves, and I am not afraid to use them. But having grown up with the "Crying Indian" commercial, I can't very well just leave it all there.

I just can't! Besides, I "make" about $2.00 a week in bottle returns - what my bottle guy smiles and calls my "coffee money". We move at a good clip in spite of all the bending and stooping, and average 3 miles a day. It's fun, and since running is off the menu, the trash retrieval gives me something to occupy my mind in the face of the reduced pace. Running just had so many benefits...but I digress.

I have gone through hand sanitizer like underwear in the last few weeks. It's summer and people are leaving half-full cups and containers of all sorts of things on the waterfront and side streets, and thrown between the rocks of the jetty. I empty gooey and drippy things when possible, avoiding contact with cup rims or straws, and add them to my "trash" bag. Returnable cans are similarly emptied and added to the "nickel" bag. I reach for the hand sanitizer quite often, and today I ran out.

Now, nothing beats a good soapy scrub with warm running water. And I am not a fan of heavy chemicals, and certainly am very aware both as a health care professional and as an educated kinda crunch-berry granola-type of the issues surrounding our obsession with anti-bacterial this and that. Hand sanitizers often harbor chemicals I'd probably rather not come in contact with - but they seem a better alternative than nothing when soap and water are far away.

For example, the label on the bottle of an alcohol free version by my side reads: water, cetrimonium chloride, glycereth-2 cocoate, behentrimonium chloride, acrylates/dimethylaminoethyl methacrylate copolymer, lactic acid, tetrasodium EDTA, fragrance. Kind of makes me wish they'd just left the alcohol in, you know? I could probably fiddle with some of the root words and make some guesses about what the unpronounceable bits are, but really, wouldn't it be nicer if my hand sanitizer just read more like my new DIY foaming facial scrub bottle does? (Doc Bronner's liquid soap, glycerine, aloe vera gel, sweet almond oil, essential oils, and water). I think so.

So I set out to see if I could find a recipe online that would let me make my own hand sanitizer, preferably featuring Young Living Thieves essential oil blend, and ideally with some good old rubbing alcohol in it. For this first round I chose the most basic recipe I could find. It contains only three ingredients - rubbing alcohol, aloe vera gel, and essential oils. I had all three on hand, and the limited number of ingredients appealed to me after reading that label up there.

I combined 1/4 cup aloe vera gel (I used plain aloe gel that I had obtained for my facial cleanser - this can be difficult to find, but keep trying! Most of the big-name aloe gels contain a host of other ingredients. We are striving for purity here, so less is MORE. If you can't find it at a health food store near you, try Amazon. I like Lily of the Desert brand) with 1/2 cup of rubbing alcohol in a bowl, then added 10 drops of Thieves oil.

I whisked the whole thing together and ended up with two (well, one and two thirds, but I didn't scrape the bowl!) bottles of DIY, low-cost, minimal ingredient hand sanitizer. I put it into my two cleaned and recycled empty bottles and put them in the backpack I carry every day on my walks with "the boys".

I would not call them "gel" sanitizers as they are fairly fluid and I will experiment more in the future with different recipes and different ratios. The gel, really, is purely convenience. I can cup my little palm and use these just the same as the thicker gel versions - and sleep better at night knowing what's in them!

In a first trial run at the sink I found the fragrance to be much improved when compared to the chemical stuff. The alcohol evaporates fairly quickly, and while the aloe leaves a faint residue on the skin until it dries, I've had similar residue present with the creepy chemical versions.

Try some yourself! Unless you think unpronounceable "irritating, toxic and slightly flammable" ingredients are something you want on your skin - I know I don't want it on mine!