Expressing Our Feelings, Not Judgment............ 12/31/22

        We feel fulfilled, satisfied and experi-ence emotional ma-turity when expres-sing our feelings and the needs beneath them.

        Constructive communicating takes place when we do.  Supportive and affirming dialog makes it likely others will listen. Ongoing practice develops our fluency with Nonviolent Communication, a language that does a world of good. 

My Second Favorite Christmas Story

    Innkeeper's Note:

   How are things going for you? I leave a Christmas story. Tomorrow, I'll leave my favorite while we are still in the holiday season. 

                  **************

    Gather around the fireplace warming the inn.  We may be frazzled by the call of Madison Avenue.  QVC and the Home Shopping Network may be as-saulting us with gift options for loved ones.  Commercials from Kohls, Best Buy, Macy's, and other department stores bombard our sanity.  The craziness endured during the whirly bur-ly of frenzied shopping may overwhelm. 

       Please slow down. 

      This post shares a story of the noncommercial kind.  My favorite Christmas Story continues to be, well, the Christmas Story.  What follows counts as my second favorite.  I heard this story when I was fourteen.  My rendering of it lies before you.

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        A pleasant, reasonable man named James Olivus didn't care for Christmas.  

        His personality did not reflect that of a Grinch nor a Scrooge. He didn't want to have anything to do with Christ. A hard heart, he did not have. 

        Jim's reputation stood as being kind, and well-liked by neighbors and co-workers.   James always had something thoughtful to say.  He didn't care what the morning journal had to say of him. 

        The concept that an "all-mighty" God sent His Son to earth as a man, he didn't buy.  

         If God existed, James reasoned, the Almighty could open up the heavens.  He could speak directly to mankind, as a celestial star, if He liked.  The whole “Jesus thing” appeared ridiculous.  

         A well-meant fantasy, he thought.  For this educated man of the 21^st century, this story made zero sense. 

       Christmas Eve approached.  James followed his holiday routine.  He partied at a friend’s house, enjoying good company along with holiday cheer of the liquid kind. 

      At 11:15 p.m., he arrived home.  Before walking in, he brushed off the snow from his coat.  Gently, it began to blanket his lawn, home, and neighborhood.

      Once inside, James created a blaze in the living room fireplace.  He looked forward to a midnight read.  The hearth would remove the chill from his home before he called it a night.  

      Thirty minutes into his reading, he heard a strong, "Thump!"  His curiosity peaked when he heard it again: "Thump!"

:

      His eyes widened.  Like an attentive dog, his ears were attuned to the source of this irreg-ular percussive noise.  It pounded louder than the crackling fire before him.  

      Mr. Olivus heard it a third time: "Thump!"  Routinely, something regularly struck the twelve-foot-wide living room window facing the front yard.  "Teenagers throwing snowballs at my home!" he thought.  

      He rushed outside.  No children in sight.  He encircled his house, looking for the cause of the mysterious noise.  

      The snow poured like a ticker-tape parade.  The wind bit his face.  He longed for the fire awaiting when he returned to his suburban home.  

      Approaching the front yard, James saw them.  A flock of birds.  At that mo-ment, James witnessed two birds dart away from the group.  

     They slammed into the plate-glass living room window.  "Thump, thump!"  

       These feathered cre-atures smashed into the window like the planes flying into the World Trade Center Twin Towers on that fateful day.  Their bodies did not penetrate the home but fell to the ground.

      The birds were confused.  They were frightened by the swirling snow.  The flock huddled under the extended branches of an ash tree. 

       They could still peer inside James' house.  Shelter from the bitter cold of this Christmas Eve evening they sought.  No success.

      "Thump! Thump! Thump!"  Three more birds dove into the glass, crumpling to the white-covered ground.  A good heart, James had.  A frown contorted his face as he observed the plight of the birds. 

       He raced into his home.  Inside, all of the lights in his living room he shut off.  

      He thought, "If they can't see inside, they will stop their attempts."  The birds no longer saw inside his house.  The darkened window created a cave-like appearance.  

      The birds continued flying headlong into the glass. Tiny, winged bodies piled below.

       The man ran to the garage 30 feet away.  He threw open the seven-teen-foot wide door to provide the birds shelter.  They continued slam-ming against the window.  

       The feathered creatures were desperate for a haven from the sub-freezing weather.  James rushed inside the garage, turning on the lights.  Now, he thought, they’ll see the refuge needed is here.  

       The birds’ focus on the window prevented that possi-bility. "Thump! Thump!" More birds dashed into the window. 

       James called out to the birds. “Hey! Over here! Over here!” The birds could not be beckoned to the garage.

       Finally, he rushed into the flock.  He yelled, waving his arms.  If the birds had been confused, their hearts now raced with fear. 

       A wild man ran among them, bewildering them.   

       James realized the futility of his efforts.  No way could he herd the birds to the shelter of his garage.  They had no clue about the sanctuary he offered.  

       The sickening sound of  "Thump! thump! thump!" echoed their efforts at finding comfort.  Frustrated, he stood in the darkness of the yard. Snow poured upon him as the birds died, diving into the window.  

       James thought, “If only I could be a bird for a few minutes. . . I could talk to them in their language – they wouldn't be afraid of me; they would understand how to save themselves.”

       As he thought, the church bells from the town began pealing.   The clock struck midnight.  The rings ushered in Christmas morning, the day celebrating Christ's birth.  

       The snow continued falling. 

       It drifted upon the fences.  It alighted upon the rooftops of the homes in the community.  It lay upon the nearby hills, frosting the landscape.  

       As it did, James crumpled to his knees. 

      “Now I understand why you became a man,” he whispered. His head drooped. James' chin lay on his chest.

      Tears warmed his icy cheeks.  “I now understand the Gift celebrated on this day.”

         May you have a great and grateful Christmas!

My Third Favorite Christmas Story 12/25/22

   Hi there, everyone. Merry Christmas, wishing every guest to this inn a sensational New Year!

  I hope you enjoy a delightful time with your family and dear ones as we celebrate this Christmas season. That's been my situa-tion as the year 2022 comes to a close.  I have deep gratitude

Being Our Authentic Selves.................. 11/30/22

    Bumping up this post.  I wrote this seven years ago.  Most of you were not here, then. 

    Here it is: 

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      How hard, genuinely rela-ting.  Being seen for who we truly are.

      Expressing our thoughts. Scary. Saying what we feel and want. It's going on a limb. 

      Revealing

Chapt. 4 Lessons Learned From a Semi-Paralyzed, Tenacious Cat

     One night at the age of two years old, Alexander the Grey(t) felt the im-pact of a car hitting his backside.  His owner, Arlene, didn't know about this right away.  She wor-ried, when, for an in-terminable day, his mischievous pre-sence

Alex Chapter Three: Buddy Time with a Cat in Decline..... 8/31/22

I used a glass bowl, like this one, to 

give Alexander the Grey(t) water

     Alexander, my friend's cat, is kicking. Although, it's no longer with his hind feet. His heart demonstrates persever-ance.  

     I dropped by his house earlier today.  He no longer walks.  I admire his quiet

Chapter Two: Loyalty Lesson Taught by Alex ....... 8/28/22

Flashback to June 2010
  
     Then, there's Ben-jamin.  A tuxedo cat, the other feline in Arlene's household.  Adding this black and white pet to her family was a mistake.  

A Series: Alexander the Greyt, Chapter One .................... 8/3/22

     I'm presenting an overdue series.  Honestly, I cry when reading this story about my friend, Alex.  It details my unashamed love for him.  

     It will help you know me from a different angle. 

     He grabbed my heart as it never has been, before or since, and en-hanced it as I never imagined.  I hope you enjoy reading about my friend as much as I did, creating this memorial of a heart-warming season in my life.  

        Alex, the cat on the left, let me have a relationship with him.  A profound, silent, and rare experi-

Experiencing What Is, Second Edition 7/31/22

And keep us close to what is real, I would add. 

     I wrote this a few years back.  Most of you have not read it.  I hope it helps you to enjoy life more fully. 

     Today's offering:

     Vital for our health involves grieving.

The Power and Value of Exercising Boundaries---We Discover the Truth About Others ................... 7/15/22

   O'Connor said she did not know what to say until she wrote. I'm  like  Flannery  O'Connor  again.   I sometimes take on her habit when writ-ing for this  positive   place in cyber-space.    

Being an Adult: Exercising the Right to Say No 5/31/22

“God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you
 used one to say 'thank you?' ” William Arthur Ward. Please
do so today by posting your gratitude. It will do you good. 

       Republishing this post.  Most of you were not guests back then, nearly eleven years ago.  

       I hope it encour-ages you to stand up for your values. 

       Here it is: 

Easter, Its Meaning

    Good afternoon,

     As with everything I write, please take what you like, leaving the rest.

     Easter we celebrate today.  I know the image usually is about bunnies, pastel 

The Latest News About the Innkeeper.......... 3/31/22

     Too much has happened. That pro-vides the reason for not hear-ing from me lately. 

     I moved from where I lived for eight years.  The transition challenged and depressed me for more than two weeks.  It endued me with fear, not a common feeling for me. 

      I prefer being honest in what I share here.  I have no interest in sugar-coating my circumstances  or presenting myself in a better light. 

     In recovery, I've learned I am good enough. I am not leashed to the need for approval, the main reason I have no connection with Face-book. I've been on it twice in the last five years. 

     Where I live provides improvements. More space. This younger, nicer home sits in a better community.  

     The house rests on top of one of the highest hills in town. Every day my home gives spectacular views of the San Francisco Bay.  

       My books cre-ated the biggest problem moving to another town.  More than a hundred box-es containing them trekked with me to my new home.  I sim-plified my life by giv-ing up most of my possessions.  

      No, not my books, but material things I thought I could never live without.

      For the first two weeks, I could not walk through my bedroom.  Reaching my closet as likely as landing on the moon.   Saying it was a living quarter loaded with boxes, an understatement. 

     The slogan, "Prog-ress, not perfection" helped me weather the first month.  Learning how to circumnavigate the new town and learn where all the stores were located was more challenging than a Sudoku problem. 

       One thing new. I am sleeping more than ever.   It helps me handle the new stress of living where I cannot tell you my address without resorting to the notepad on my phone. 

       My gratitude for today: 

1. For difficult times.  You did not misread the previous sentence.  I've learned to sit with new challenges, not run away from how they disturb me.      

      I've developed the habit of not letting stress rule over me.  Feelings are simply emo-tions, not a prophecy.  The loudest voice is not the truest.  

     During tough times I've learned a positive outcome is just as likely as a negative one.

     Embracing negative feelings reveals emotional resili-ency.  When I am aware of what is happening in the moment, I am no longer lost in it.

2. For fortitude, the result of time invested in recovery.  I have grown because I attend Al-Anon Family Groups, an organization helping those who relate to alcoholics.  Al-Anon is not a nickname for Alco-holics Anonymous. 

    For more about this inspiring organ-ization that empow-ers its members, check here,

"God guide me to make the right deci-sion and give me the fortitude to cling to it against all pressures and persuasions."         One Day At a Time in Al-Anon, p. 13

        I have more to say.  Right now, I need to get back to work. 

Bursting With Hope, Healing, Happiness............... 3/13/22

     Last Friday, my oldest son got married.  One enormous hallmark for any parent.  It also opened a floodgate of joyful tears. 

     He knows his bride well.  

     It was surreal hearing my son and his fiancé saying their vows. They've grown up together. No, not in the same family but as two who met many years ago.

      It is a life-changing jump from them being boyfriend and girlfriend. 

      Witnessing the exchange of vows was an out-of-body experience. I could not believe I was there; it was happening.  The reception afterward went on for six hours.  

      I knew many attending the happy occasion.  

Demon of Denial Revised .............. 3/9/22

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget
that the highest appreciation is not to utter words
but to live by them.”   John F. Kennedy 

        I wrote this post years ago, pre-senting it now, again. Many current guests of this inn were not here then.  I hope it helps. 

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A Great Antidote for Depression: Expressing Our Voice, Third Edition 2/28/22

Image: "Scotland: Ben Nevis With His Hat On"

       Bumping up a revised edition of a nine-year-old post.  Most of you have not read it. I hope it encourages you. 

Sources of Joy for This Fading Month of February............ 2/27/22

    I have enjoyed won-derful 6+ hours of fun on four occa-sions with four differ-ent friends the past two weekends. In my roadster, we travers-ed gorgeous country roads.  The car lies five inches above the ground. 

    The experience is like driving a go-kart on steroids. 

Loving Life, The Answer to Excessive Mental Chatter................... 2/18/22

And improve your driving, I might add. 

    I'm following Flannery O'Connor's approach tonight.  A post past due.  I have not sub-mitted anything at this inn lately. 

    O'Connor didn't know what she had to say until she started writing. In the same boat, I find myself.  The following reveals what is floating within my mind.

Overcoming Negative Feelings, Getting Back to Calmness............... 1/31/22

    I've been wiped out.  

    No, not with Co-vid, but with a cold.  It subdued my usu-ally positive feelings and point of view. 

    I sat with these negative emotions.  I discovered this past week, my adolescent days were not over.  I