In high school, Louise always got the highest math scores.  I believed she was a wiz-kid!  One day, she approached me, practically in tears, asking for my help with presenting her oral book report.  I had already presented mine and had earned an A+.  She was so worried that she would fall flat on her face.  I couldn’t believe it!  LOUISE?!?!  …worried about failing??  I was convinced that would never happen and told her so. I gave her a few pointers such as making eye contact, connecting with the kids and pretending she was delivering it to her best friend.  My certainty about her success seemed to bolster her.  It inched her confidence meter upward, for which she sincerely thanked me.  I couldn’t believe Louise had asked me for help!

Since I had been comparing my math grades with Louise’s and always coming up short, I assumed that she was better than I at everything.  It never occurred to me that something that came so naturally to me might be difficult for her.  Why couldn’t I see then that she had her strengths and I had mine?!  All I could see at the time was that she was great at Math and I wasn’t.

I guess, we’ve all done it at one time or another…compared ourselves to others. Hopefully, as we mature and grow, we realize the futility of it.  I’ve heard it said that comparing yourself with others is an act of violence you commit against yourself.  I couldn’t agree more.  Whenever I’ve done it, I’ve always come up on the short end of the stick.  Why is that?? 

First of all, I tended to look at what I perceived as someone else’s entire package, all their strengths and weaknesses.  However, I was really only seeing their surface.  Then I took into consideration “my” package, all my strengths and weaknesses, including everything below the surface.  Because I know myself better than anyone else does, I am privy to my innermost failings.  I tended to compare those failings to other people’s strengths.  That was like starting a race multiple laps behind! Comparing myself in this way made me blind to my own gifts.

I discovered long ago that I am second-rate at being someone else, but no one can beat me at being me.  So now, instead of comparing myself to others, I just work at becoming the best version of myself.  After all, isn’t that what I’m really after?!

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2021 Zanne

Though my grandfather lived across the street and I saw him almost daily, he rarely spoke directly to me beyond “hello!”  There was a present for us from him on our birthdays and holidays that we knew my mother selected, purchased and wrapped.  While I didn’t feel particularly close to him, I assumed that he loved me.  Because my paternal grandfather died when I was two and both my mother and father lost their own mothers when they were 9 months and 11 years old respectively, this grandfather was my only living grandparent. 

He was a man of few words who never wanted to interfere so he kept his thoughts to himself.  You can imagine the surprise and gratitude I felt when, at eighty-one, he agreed to let me interview him for my Senior High School assignment.

What a blessing this assignment was because I’m not sure I would have thought of doing something like this on my own.  The gift this gave me was not only an insight into my grandfather’s life, but what life was like in the early twentieth century. 

I came across that tape two summers ago.  I was so excited at the thought of listening to it again, but unfortunately, after locating a cassette tape player, I discovered that it was now blank.  I have no idea how that happened as I had treasured that tape long after my grandfather had passed.  All that remains is what is in my memory of that long-ago interview.

At the age of eleven, he had immigrated with his family from Canada to the U.S. seeking work.

He told me of his mother’s alarm the first time she saw a motorized car coming down the street.  “The world is coming to an end!” She cried out…in French, of course.  “There’s something coming down the street without a horse pulling it!”

While it’s humorous to think about now, I can imagine it was quite disconcerting for her to witness something she had no knowledge of or experience with.  The world appeared to be changing all too quickly to her.

What struck me the most of everything he told me was how entrenched people were in customs and rituals with no room for deviation.  As an example, he told me of the customs surrounding the death of a loved one, specifically, a spouse.  He had personal experience with this.  At the age of 30, he lost his wife to the curse of the day, tuberculosis.  She was only 29, leaving him with six children ten years old and under, the last two being my uncle and my mother at twenty-two months and nine months respectively.  Not only was he left with the gaping hole in his heart from the loss of his wife, he was now responsible for providing for and raising his very young family as well!  What a monumental task!  His heart was heavy as he prepared for the wake, funeral and burial of his beloved.

He told me that since funeral homes were not yet in existence, the wake was always held in the home of the deceased, usually in the living area.  The widower, however, was expected to remain alone in his bedroom to mourn the loss of his wife.  Though family and friends came to pay their respects and offer support, he could not come out of his room to see them.  Any mingling would be construed as “sans -coeur,” he said, “heart-less.”  So as lonely as he was and as much as he needed the salve of hugs and words of comfort from family and friends, he was required by custom to remain isolated.  Even for meals, a family member would bring him a plate of food to be eaten in his chamber.  It was a very lonely time indeed and now, at 81, he was glad this custom, that had felt so barbaric was no longer the practice.  As he recounted this to me more than fifty years later, I detected a hitch in his voice still.

I remember his house had two adjoining bedrooms.  At that time, it was expected that husband and wife were not to sleep together unless they were actively seeking pro-creation. There was no such thing as falling asleep in your beloved’s arms every night.

All of this has made me wonder how customs originate, how they’re perpetuated and how they eventually get dismantled.  Must we be doomed to continue doing something that seems so opposed to our authentic needs as human beings just because it is “custom” …something we must not deviate from that we’ve been conditioned to accept as “normal and acceptable?”

My grandfather’s experiences also gave me pause to review my own life, to examine where unnecessary, repressive adherence to customs and traditions might lie… such as never questioning authority, whether it be a boss, elder or doctor…or blind obedience to religious institutions without recognizing their shortcomings and limitations, accepting their black and white simplified version of our complex world.  These are just a few.

There is something to be said for customs and traditions.  There’s comfort in not having to wrestle with the life questions that most of us have.  Living within the confines of answers that were provided by others relieves us of having to make those decisions for ourselves.  However, there is much that needs to be considered and evaluated so we don’t indiscriminately hand over our power to those who came before us.    

There is such value in sharing our stories!  How many personal stories have gone to the grave, unsaid, unrecorded?!?  How many lessons have been lost?!?  Are we too busy to even ask the questions?!  I believe that unless we learn from history, we are doomed to repeat it.  I, for one, would rather evaluate and make thoughtful changes than follow customs and traditions that no longer serve us.

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2021 Zanne

Reminiscing has taken me back in time, to when my children were young and loved being read to.  We spent many days in the family room, Legos strewn all about because there was great “building” going on.

One of the books I read to them was “The Diary of Anne Frank.”  At times they sat riveted, lego piece in hand, eyes wide open in suspense, waiting to hear what would happen next.  

This particular book came to mind while contemplating this Covid-confinement we find ourselves in.  It certainly doesn’t compare to the confinement that Anne and her family experienced.  I can’t possibly comprehend what they went through. While ours in no way resembles the harshness of theirs, I am given to ponder the few similarities…how life as we knew it has been suspended; going out to eat, traveling, socializing, visiting with family & friends, and enjoying freedom of movement has been curtailed.  We are home-bound most of the time.  It can all feel very dire indeed!

I often feel like I’m being hunted down by a virus, but how much worse would it feel to be hunted down by fellow humans wishing to do me harm.  I don’t have to cover my windows for fear of being discovered, rely on the benevolence of others to stealthily bring me groceries, nor, for the most part, live in constant fear for my life.

In one of my morning readings, I came across thoughts that Anne had written in her journal: “Beauty remains, even in misfortune.”  “If you just look for it, you discover more and more happiness and regain your balance.”  Even as a young teenager she had developed an inner wisdom that allowed her to manage her point of view.  This allowed her to find beauty and peace even in the worst of circumstances.

Do I look for the beauty that surrounds me?  I know I can find it in nature, but do I make the effort to identify it in my everyday rounds?  While it’s most definitely there, am I looking for it? Do I take the time to enjoy the two squirrels in their childlike, playful chase up a tree, or the rabbit that scuttles across my path, or the flowers still kissed with morning dew, or even the way the dust dances on the sunbeams through my window?  Or do I just rush by, so busy tending to other things that I miss the opportunity to discover and appreciate these not-so-little “little” things?  

I’m pretty certain that, had I been in Anne’s situation, the overwhelming fear of discovery would have overshadowed my demeanor.  I doubt that I would have been able to ‘see’ as clearly as she did. Her desire and commitment to see beauty, experience happiness and achieve balance regardless of her circumstances inspires me to strive to do the same…even and especially in difficult times. 

Thank you, dear Anne!

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2021 Zanne

As we entered the holiday season this year, I sensed I would have to rely more heavily than usual on memories of holidays past since things, this year, are anything but the same.

The trick is, can I find holiday cheer during a pandemic that keeps us apart?  Am I resilient enough to make new memories as I manage this historic moment in time?  These are the questions I ask myself.

To be sure, like everyone else, I’ll be happy when we can resume our lives as usual.  Is it possible that when this year is in hindsight, I will have learned something from having lived through the experience?  If ever there was an opportunity to focus on simplicity, this would be it!

As I sort through the many holiday activities that I’ve taken part in over the years, I’m reminded that the common thread through all of them is relationship.  For me, that is the hallmark of the holidays.  My challenge, therefore, is how to enhance those relationships even if I can’t spend time in the physical presence of those I love.

Sometimes the busyness of life interferes with the ‘carry-through’ of thoughtful gestures…at least it does for me.  How can I use this slower-paced, confined holiday season to spread more joy…to be more thoughtful, which, in turn, will bring me more joy?  I’m reminded of my good friend’s project to perform sixty random acts of kindness to commemorate her sixtieth Birthday.  Performing (sometimes anonymously) random acts of kindness is a win-win!  

I was thinking of my mother yesterday and the joy for the holidays that she instilled in our home when I was growing up.  I decided to take a minute to write her a Christmas card right then and there and thank her for this precious gift that I so appreciate.  I’ve decided to send her a card with a personal message each week leading up to Christmas in an effort to lift her spirits.

This year, I can’t get together with my loved ones to sing.  But maybe…just maybe, in some small way, I can cause their hearts to sing, thus bringing a little light to each of our weary souls this holiday season.  

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne

I remember my walk home from high school one particular spring day during my Freshman year.  Thoughts entered my mind, from where I don’t know, but I remember them still.  As I was huffing and puffing up the steep Bartlett Hill, I made a decision, not realizing how important this would be to the very fabric of my life.

I reflected on my classmates, their demeanor as well as my own.  I thought about how I felt while around certain individuals; how I felt when I, myself, was in various moods; how others might feel around me.  The fact that it was springtime, when my heart is usually joyful, probably nudged my musings in a more positive direction.

I remember contemplating how much better it felt to be around pleasant people than moody, negative people.  Also, one of my teachers had mentioned that it takes more facial muscles to frown than to smile.  I decided that day that these two reasons alone, made it worth choosing to be positive.  I suspect there was also an element of self-interest in that decision as I supposed I would personally benefit from honing this demeanor.

It was also about that time when I pondered what little extra effort it took, to smile and acknowledge someone than to merely walk by, absorbed in my own thoughts.  Looking back, I see these two decisions as defining moments.  One where I decided on my attitude in general and the second, my attitude toward others.  

These two insights were life-altering because, ultimately, they determined how I perceived my world.  By being kind and courteous to everyone, including strangers, kindness and courtesy were returned. This led me to believe that the world is full of kind people and I see them everywhere!  Living in a kind world has been a huge blessing in my life and I can’t imagine living it any other way.  When I treat others as I would a friend, they take on friendly qualities. For the most part, there are no strangers in my world, only friends I have not yet met.  

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne

With my nephew purchasing his first home, I find myself evaluating my household possessions, deciding which to keep and which to pass on to him.  Do I really need this?  I repeatedly ask myself.  Could he make better use of this??

Each item I touch evokes memories from the past, some more fond than others.  A friend recently reminded me that I can keep all the boxes of items I want…in my heart as memories.  Well, that certainly takes up a lot less physical space!  I’m pretty sure I’ll enjoy them more if I pass them on because I’ll probably see them more often as he uses them, than if I kept them in a box.

Endeavors that help someone else in the process, are the easiest to embark on.  I feel like I’m not turning my back on my possessions but assigning them a new, more vibrant life.  That always makes me feel better in the “letting-go” of things.

What starts as a giving project surprisingly presents me with gifts as well.  Paring down gives me a feeling of buoyancy.  It reduces the stuff on the periphery of my life and makes room for more phase-appropriate ways to spend my time and energy.  When my life is already full, there’s no room to add ‘better.’  With fewer “things” obstructing my vision I am free to experience life unencumbered.  Purging that which is no longer useful or serving a purpose allows me the freedom to pursue the new and unexplored.  Less really is more.  

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne

I’ve noticed that those who are dealing the best with this pandemic are those who don’t singularly focus on their losses and what they can no longer do but who quickly pivot and find those things they CAN do and get about the business of doing them. Without a doubt, there are individuals and families who find themselves in very difficult circumstances, often feeling overwhelmed, and struggling to stay afloat.  I feel great compassion toward those who find themselves in such dire straits.  

That being said, I can’t think of a single one that wouldn’t be improved by acceptance and an eye toward what CAN be done.  I’ve noticed that my wishing things were different does not usually change anything.  

Of course, it’s always a good thing to ask, “Can I change it or any aspect of it?”  If I can’t change it, then it seems to me that the only aspect I can change is how I internalize it -my frame of reference.  Because I get to choose the quality of my perspective, in effect, I get to choose how I feel, which, in turn, affects my response.  Maybe it’s because I don’t like feeling helpless, but this is the process I go through whenever faced with unpleasant situations. First:  What can I do about it/change it. Once I’ve exhausted those possibilities, Second: accept it quickly.  Third, reframe the situation to my advantage, and finally, look for what can be learned from it.

A door that has been nailed shut will not be reopened by sitting, staring at it and bemoaning how much I don’t like it or how unfair it is that the door has been blocked.  Yet that’s exactly what we do when we refuse to accept what is.  The resistance is where the pain comes in. It’s wishing that things weren’t so.  That feels to me like hitting my head against a brick wall, hoping to make it move.  The result?  A bad headache!

Without being insensitive to the pain of others, it seems to me that this pandemic offers us an opportunity to take our emotions in hand, evaluate our options and choose those that best serve us as well as our loved ones.  This is by no means an easy task.  It requires self-reflection, emotional self-control and inner direction.  As difficult as these skills may be to practice at first, in hindsight they may be a useful glimmer of this pandemic…?

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne

I’m standing about ten feet from our home’s entry, in a discussion with my mother, when the outside door flies open and in walks a man yelling, “Linda? Hey Linda I’m here!”  My mother and I stare at him, slack-jawed in a deer-caught-in-headlights daze.  Finally, I rescue my voice from the shock, and think to ask him which address he is looking for.  He gives me a number and I point behind him to another building.  He thanks me and leaves.

THAT is the day I started locking my doors even when I’m home.  What if I had been napping or in the shower?  The idea that someone could just walk in like that, whether friend or foe made me realize I needed to manage this point of entry more carefully.  

I find the same to be true of my thoughts.  Like strangers knocking on the door to my home, I don’t just fling the door open and invite them in.  First, I question where they come from and what their intention is.  Are these thoughts negative in an unproductive way, there merely to cause me pain? Or are they positive in nature, offering an opportunity to learn something that will ultimately bring me to a deeper understanding? Gathering such information helps me decide between investing more time with these thoughts or sending them on their way.  Now that I know how managing my thoughts in this way leads to a happier life, I see the value of consciously practicing this skill daily until it becomes second nature.

For instance, when thoughts of being overwhelmed threaten to overtake me, feelings of discouragement are usually not far behind.  As I become more aware of this pattern, I can more easily manage it.  I do this by refusing to follow that train of thought any further.  I then work at altering my perception of the event causing me to become overwhelmed by putting it in a more manageable perspective.

In the past, I created my reality of “too much to do… not enough time,” a mantra I had repeated throughout my life that had kept me in a helter-skelter mode of operation.  As I have become more aware that I create my own reality by the thoughts that I think, I take responsibility for them and lead them to a more productive perception of “there’s plenty of time for me to get everything (or at least the important things) done with peace and grace.

Reminding myself of this helps my breathing to slow down and then time naturally seems to follow suit.  This reduces stress and allows me to think more clearly, to complete each task more efficiently and arrive at the end of my list not frazzled, but rather, with a sense of calm.

Monitoring the entry-points, to my home as well as to my thought-perceptions allows me to live my life with greater ease, grace and joy. 

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne

My friend showed me her life-like baby boy doll that she has treasured for years.  At the time, she was enjoying the process of looking for a new outfit for him.  Her joy was infectious.  So much so that it remained with me while I was running errands the next day and happened upon some little booties.  Without hesitation, I dropped them in my cart and couldn’t wait to give them to her.  While they weren’t anything super special, I knew she would appreciate the thought.  That alone would bring us both joy.

I packaged them in a cellophane gift bag accented with curly ribbon then put the small package on the corner of the table by the door.  Days passed. The next time I ran errands, I scooped up the little package and added it to my armload of bags as I headed out the door.  Off I went after depositing everything onto the passenger seat.

Time got away from me and as I checked my watch, I was jolted by the realization that it was way past time to start dinner.  Off I went again, this time racing home in an effort to bend time to my advantage, all the while calculating what I could quickly pull together for dinner.  In my hurried, shifted focus, the little package for my friend was forgotten.  Incredibly, it was a few weeks later when I realized I had never delivered it.  I wondered where it had gone, but by then, we were moving and other to-dos crowded my days.

Thoughts of that package would occasionally dance across my mind and I’d momentarily wonder about its disappearance.    

Fast forward to the present and I am transferring things from our old car to a new car we just purchased.  I lay on the backseat and  s-t-r-e-t-c-h  my arm under each of the front seats to make sure I don’t leave behind a stray umbrella or whatever.  Nope!  Oh…wait a second… my fingertips brush something and accidentally push it further.  S-t-r-e-t-c-h …just…a… little.. bit… more.  Got it!  Out comes the packaged gift booties I had purchased for my friend… a YEAR AGO!!  Darn! The loving thought that left the bow but never quite made it to the target, let alone the bullseye!

As I think about this “ungifted gift,” it reminds me of all the loving gestures that die a sudden death due to hesitation or distraction.  How unfortunate that people will never know how often I’ve thought of them.  I could have made love deposits in so many people’s lives if all the calls, gifts and cards I had made, given or sent in my mind had found their way out into the world!

~Zanne
InSearchOfAuthenticity.com
© 2020 Zanne