Last night we had the opportunity to visit with friends from another time. What a delight it was to be able to connect to that time in our lives with people who were an important part of it.  As life does, our paths went in different directions.  Our experiences were not the same.  But it felt as if we never parted.

Time, trials and joy imprint our souls and change us. I get that…

But the comfort that comes with familiarity covered me like a cozy blanket.  We talked and laughed about things we had done.  I thought about the person I was then. She is still here, if only as a cautionary tale, but she seems like a very distant memory.

Talking and laughing and getting a little weepy with a piece of personal history felt so good. I have made many great connections in my new life. My blessings abound from the people that I know now. But there is something magical about old friends.

Last night I came face to face with my history. It was a time when I was trying to just get by without the knowledge that comes with age. We were all struggling to find an equilibrium that made sense. It was, although not really the same, like being in a foxhole together. We were all in a fight of one kind or another. It created bonds that cannot be broken.

When you leave a certain situation, it’s easy to try to forget about it. As we all know, that is not really possible. My unhappiness in my old life, no matter how bad I felt, was decorated with some of the best times of my life. The people I knew then were my inspiration to get better. They created a comforter for me in my insecurities. They allowed me to stumble and fall without fear.

My focus for the last few years has been to evolve, to be better than I was and to make up for the stupid I did back in the day. I have been so blinded by that imperative in my life I have forgotten the other side of a past life. The good side.

Last night while having dinner with friends I remember it wasn’t all bad. I wasn’t all bad. There was fun, laughter, hard work and joy. I always say it’s the fire that makes you who you are. It is also the light that makes you who you are. Just like in the natural world, you have to have night for the morning to come.

I so enjoyed the few hours, that felt like a few minutes. It reminded me that my younger self was doing the best she could with what she had. It reminded me of all the imprints on my soul from friends and family. Maybe now I can look in the rearview mirror and not see just the chaos. Maybe now I can see the light that was there through the amazing people I knew.

I think I’m finally ready to embrace my past for what it is. The stepping stones to today. I am truly blessed to have been able to have friends who inspired and shaped me…past and present.

Having dinner with friends nourished my soul in a way I did not expect. It’s a reminder to appreciate those amazing people in our lives. It’s easy to lose touch but hang on tight to the lights these lovely people bring into the world. This world needs all the light it can receive.

Growing up in the 60s and 70s was a different time. Things seemed a certain way. Gray areas weren’t really talked about. I grew up thinking that good people:

Wore nice clothes.

Had clean houses and nice cars.

Had perfect teeth, clear complexions, thick hair and were pretty.

Were smart and did good in school.

Had artistic abilities or were athletic.

I thought you could tell a good person solely on the way they looked. I assumed also they had to act a certain way. I thought nice people never got angry or used profanity. They were just always nice.

As I got older, I still believed that concept and assumed that I did not fall into any of the categories so I thought that I could not possibly be a good person. So I tried harder and longer and always fell short.

Then I reached a certain age and the reality hit me. Those external parameters do not predict the goodness of a person. The outside cover can be very deceitful. Oh how pretty it looks but the inside can be so ugly.

Luckily I learned that good people:

Are genuine…they are the same inside and out. Their heart is pure.

They are human which is to say they can get mad or upset. They can cry and feel out of control at times.

They can swear, sometimes a lot. Maybe they have a wicked sense of humor.

They may have tattoos and/or piercings. They just may look different than you.

Money does not automatically make a person good. Fancy clothes and things are fine but a person’s real heart is their true value of richness.

Beauty does not dictate one’s goodness. I have learned not to covet beauty but rather look for cultivated inner beauty.

Good people can have all the things I discussed above. Having those outward visuals are not the only indicators though. As I get older and as our world gets nastier, I find myself desperate for good and kind people. I see them everywhere now.

The young girl at the check out. The waiter at the diner. The person on the other end of a customer service phone call. They don’t have to fit a similar mold. They are strong and warrior-like because they have been in the fires of life and walked through.

Their experiences created in them not only strength but empathy and genuine concern. Many good people have seen some bad things but they did not allow that to corrode their hearts.

Anyone can be unkind. It’s the easiest thing in the world. But being kind and of good heart is, as I always say, is a super power. A super power that is not limited to certain socioeconomic level or to people who look a specific way.

I admire the strong humans that can show true kindness, long for justice and are ready to fight for what’s right. Gone are my unrealistic expectations of not only myself but those around me.

No longer will I judge that book by its cover. The trueness of a person’s heart is beneath the surface, past the battle scars. As I work on my own warrior kindness I shall celebrate all who choose to not allow life to bring them down! I admire all the superheroes I know and all the ones left to meet.

Stay strong and stay kind. We need that more in our world today!

Have you seen the videos on the internet that show a person restocking their refrigerator or their pantry with top-of-the-line glass and acrylic containers? The OCD part in me absolutely loves these videos.

If you have seen them, do you notice the sounds? I get some unspoken pleasure from listening to the eggs being placed in the acrylic egg container. Or the sound of a plastic bag being opened and poured into a glass container. I love when they pour milk out of its original carton into a glass bottle. I can watch those all day.

But as I watch these videos I cannot help but wonder a couple of things. The first being…is it really all that better to move the milk or cereal or whatever it may be into a different container? Most items come in their own container. Of course, part of me thinks it makes perfect sense while the more practical side is confused.

I will admit I used to pour our half and half into a glass bottle. I will give you a lot of items do taste better in glass. I also have learned recently that many fresh fruits last longer when stored in glass. But is it necessary for everything?

Conflicted I am about the true feasibility of all the extra work. The older I get the less likely I feel energetic about doing all those many dishes.

My other problem is definitely with the containers. I am not sure this point has been discussed online yet, but it is an original thought to me. If the makers of these videos were completely honest I think the content would look a little different.

For example, the only glass containers I have for storage are used Mason jars, cleaned sauce jars and we even drink from jelly jars. These actually work fabulously and cut down on waste. Are they as pretty? I think so but would really change the feel of those videos.

I have a few plastic containers with lids. They are very helpful to have around but can be expensive. My life hack, that most people already know, is that Cool Whip containers work well (not so good in the microwave though) and they sport lids.

I, personally, do not feel the need to store cereal or pasta in a separate container. They already come in one. Truthfully, I bet I would do it if money was no object.

I do buy sugar and rice in plastic containers then buy smaller packets to refill them. So after I talk it out a bit, there is some sense to it all. I sometimes wonder if they are not just another useless distraction. Yes, they probably are but I still enjoy them in all their unrealistic glory!

Using the concept in ways that help cut down on waste is truly a good thing. And not much else gives the feeling of comfort as M&M’s slowly being poured into a glass jar. Music to my ears!

Lately I have become obsessed with reels on Facebook. I have no idea where they come from, like Tik Tok or something I have no clue, but they are addictive. I need to break the habit now before I lose the last level of ability to concentrate I have. The truth, however, is that I have learned a few things from these 30 second blasts of distraction.

There is a person who goes around and asks people if they can give him bus fare or buy him a bottle of water or some other small gesture. If the person asked offers to fill the request, the asker gives the person $500 or another sum of money.

Caviat, I am not foolish enough to think these are not edited for a specific outcome. I am not even sure of the validity, but they bring up a few valid points that I have been struggling with as of late.

In these videos, people in a checkout line (say people who have something) are asked for whatever assistance is needed and most times the askee declines. When a person is asked who shows evidence that they may be struggling financially, they usually dig deep and come up with the bus fare or whatever the request may be.

When asked why they are willing to give when it is obvious they do not have it to spare, the reply is I would want someone to do it for me if I needed it. In other words, treat others as you would want to be treated.

This is a very basic human rule that we should all live by. Of course, as we all know, fewer and fewer people live by this code, if you will. Why is that?

That is my quandary at the moment. I believe it is because it is too easy to get jaded in this life. Myself included. I have two stories about my jadedness.

Story #1. Many years ago I went with a friend to visit a doctor in a big city. This was at a time in my life where I was about to lose my house and all I owned. I was only able to go because my friend paid for everything. I had about $23 left to my name and I offered to buy coffee the morning we were heading back home. While outside the coffee shop, a homeless person asked me for money and I truthfully said that I had none. He replied back by saying “who comes to the city without money.” And he huffed away totally disgusted with me.

I know at that point I still “had” more than him but I had nothing to give. The two coffees went over what I had in the bank and I ended up bouncing a check and that was the cycle I was in. I would have liked to help but I was into years of financial decline at my own hands.

Story #2. I was asked to volunteer at a soup kitchen for a day and I agreed. While there I tried to help out but I did not know how things worked so I learned that I needed to just stay out of the way. I did exactly as I was told, which was to place ONE piece of bread on a plate and move the plate along.

Being the new guy, I was asked several times by the people being served if they could get an extra piece of bread. That was not allowed because there was only enough to go around if given one piece. It was hard for me to say no but I kept getting the watchful eye from the other volunteers when it looked like I might cave in. (I fully understand now about making sure that you can serve as many as possible in the fairest way.) Then one gentleman came up and I gave him his bread with a smile. Then he said that he hoped me doing this made me feel good about myself. It unnerved me the way he said it with such contempt.

I was devestated. I want to help more but just leaving the house is monumental for me at times. See I made an incorrect assumption that the persons having a free lunch would be overly appreciative and he made an assumption about me and my life. We both were wrong.

My husband and I ended up losing all that we had owned and left our house for the last time with no where to go. Luckily our amazing friends and family gave us money for gas and food. We mostly slept in our vehicle or in a tent over the course of several weeks. Even at that point, we were still much better off than a lot of people. But my sense of empathy grew as this experience unfolded.

So what is the answer? God tells us to give and it makes no difference what happens after that. We are called to give, we do and end of story. If the gift is misappropriated, that person will deal with the consequences. How about when we treat someone right and they do not treat us the same way back? We did the right thing and we cannot control how the other person reacts.

So basically we are called to live by the Golden Rule. To treat others as we would want to be treated. It doesn’t say to only treat nice people like that. Or only rich people. Or only ____ (fill in the blank). We are called to treat others, all others.

The concept is extremely clear to me but I am so easily hurt. I am ashamed to say it but it is the absolute truth. So infractions on the rule cause my heart to harden. I get jaded. I see all my silent pain and I lose a bit of my humanity. But that’s not my calling in life.

I sometimes forget that my story isn’t the only story and that every one of us has a story. I have to remember my pain is meant to make me stronger and better. I need to remember that when I was below rock bottom (my own doing or not) that I had many loving hands outreached to help me up. I have to remember God doesn’t want us jaded and judgemental. He wants us to have love in our heart even in a cruel and evil world.

If those situations were to come up again, I would hope that I would react differently. I also hope that if I saw a need I would run to help fill it. I have lived in my private bubble too long. I need to remember that my actions reflect on me and others reactions do not reflect on me. I need to start doing the right thing and discard my fear of rejection and jaded assumptions.

Life is so hard. The determinations we make in almost every circumstance determine our character. I want a strong character. And I want to treat others the way I want to be treated regardless of whether it happens or not.

What is happiness? How do you achieve said happiness? Will I even know when I am happy? Will it last?

My brain has always thought that if I could just get an undetermined monetary amount in my bank account, I would have to be happy. When I am not feeling well, being healthy would bring me happiness. I thought being able to sing, paint or play the guitar would definitely open up my happiness quotient. A clean house. A great meal. A new shiny something. I used to believe any or all these things would make me forever happy.

I was in constant pursuit of those things to the exclusion of actually being happy. Moments of superficial happy happened but nothing that lasted. I was always sad that I could not find that one thing that would bring me sustained happiness.

On my journey I have been to hundreds of places both literally and figuratively. I spend a lot of time inside my own head, so that is why I say figuratively. I have been happy, please do not misunderstand my meaning here. I am talking momentary happiness versus long haul happiness.

Today I was texting a friend and when asked how I was, I replied that I was almost happy. That struck me as an odd thing to say, so I started to over think why I said that.

I grew up like most people with parents who wanted me to do well but peppered the “be all you can be” with a healthy dose of “but don’t expect too much and you won’t be disappointed.” It was unconsciously ingrained that just to be safe, set the bar pretty low.

Believe me, the bar I set for myself was plenty low. After I grew up a bit more, I started hunting for happiness. I thought it was in a library of books I hardly read or matching bath towels or the newest thing. I set my happiness meter to read the joy brought from things.

It took a long time to learn happiness does not live in material things, they can supply a temporary happiness but not sustained.

Today I base my happiness on my relationships with real people and with experiences. Laughing, hugs, sharing, and other tactile things bring that true sense of happiness and joy.

As of late, I have been learning what doesn’t bring happiness. Those lessons are just as important. Removing yourself from a situation that is just not a happy one can be a huge step forward.

So today I am going to stop looking for that never-ending pot of extreme happiness and learn to be almost always happy.

I started a new job yesterday.  I am hesitant to mention it as I have had great difficulty finding my purpose as of late.  I have been lost at sea, if you will.  I have decided that I am too old to not be doing something with a deeper meaning and yet that meaning has been elusive.

I have been unemployed for several weeks now and it has left me feeling all kinds of things. Mostly guilty for not bringing in any money for bills. That is an extremely heavy, self-imposed feeling. A feeling of worthlessness because I haven’t been able to stay at a job. I am always thinking what is wrong with me.

I just want something to do as work that makes things better for people. Being unsure of what that is in actuality makes looking for it difficult. I have found myself trying to find this hidden gem under every stone but keep coming up empty-handed.

I have had jobs I have loved, ones I have hated and the worst of all, ones where I felt indifferent. When you are younger, you do what you have to do. I have always done that with the intent that someday, at an undisclosed time, I would find what feels right.

As you get older, you start to realize that time is not infinite. Although it never is, but youth is unaware for the most part. Aging brings the fact to the foreground.

I no longer want to just show up and get a paycheck. I still like to eat and have a roof over my head but that struggle, for myself at least, of making money has always come up short. When I was a complusive shopper, I could never have made enough money. Money crippled me in so many ways. It held my entire life hostage. I no longer want to live like that.

Luckily, I have had a reversal in that area of my life. Gone are the obsessive days wandering a mall with an intense need to buy something, anything to fill my soul. Working just for money was like being in jail for me. There was no visible way out except to work more, get a second job and so on.

I still have bills but I try to not let them own me. Since I have had that shift in thinking, my thoughts on work have also shifted.

When I started working on the train, I adored the work. I felt a passion about it. I could not get enough of it. Then when I got a little better at it and started making more and more money in tips, my view changed. I could visibly see the difference in the days I went to work for the money and the days I went to work to have fun. The more money I made the less fun I had.

I am not sure if this is a normal experience. I have never followed any particular norm anyway. But this was a truth for me. Any time I focused on making money as my priority, I actually made less and I had no joy.

Here I am at almost 60 years old and no real options for retirement. So working is still what I have to do. But I want it to be purposeful. I think I may have finally found that. In the interview, I never even asked what I would be making, it seemed unimportant. In the interview I was more interested in the work itself and the people I would be working with.

The interview was full of laughter and sharing of views. Our views differed slightly but that was ok. The goal was the same and that, I think, is what was to be the tipping point for me. Being a part of helping the community is what matters most.

Money comes and mostly goes. I could chase money the rest of my life and never find satisfaction. But making a positive change, no matter the size, in the crazy world today seems like the better option. Maybe that time I always looked for is finally here. Maybe my perspective is finally correct. Maybe I can find my joy again in doing something I love.

It’s only been one day. I hate to overflow with optimism but the feeling is good. No pit in my stomach. No tearing of fingernails. I guess I had to do what I had to do before. Maybe I just was not ready for this leap. I hope I am ready now.

Opportunities sometimes just appear. The proverbial door is opened. My track record is splattered with wrong doors and wrong turns. Maybe it is time I finally get it right.