What Really Matters, According to Me

I recently had occasion to spend time in the company of a couple celebrating their 64th wedding anniversary. Donna told me they’ve not had one argument to date. (There was a time I would’ve doubted her.) In a brief few minutes, Bob and Donna Johnson shared their story with me: She came from a large family of 12 children. They were poor, but didn’t know it. The children may have fussed with each other, but the parents never did. Their family was peaceful. Bob came from what he called a “broken home.” He wasn’t kidding. When he was ten years old, Bob’s parents BOTH left the family of three children. Bob, the oldest, cared for his two younger sisters, ages 8 and 3, by feeding them cereal and milk he charged on an open tab left by his father at the local market. This went on for a few weeks until the grocer became suspicious. Bob said the grocer must’ve done some detective work because not many days after questioning him about when his daddy was going to come pay the bill (to which the boy...

Many years ago, I told my mother “I intended to” (whatever it was), and she introduced me to the old adage, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I didn’t understand that at first, being pretty young, but my mother explained: good intentions do no good unless they’re backed up by good deeds. I was thereafter prejudiced to the proverb for decades…until I came to see it from another angle only recently. An offer to help was made to someone who took offense at the suggestion and ‘all hell broke loose.’ One might say there’s ‘hell to pay’ now. In a different way, I see our good intentions have inadvertently paved the road to what has come to feel like hell in the relationship between those who would have been servants and those who would have been served by love; but who have instead become deeply injured and insulted by them who’ve come to be seen as hurtful and insulting. Wow…sure didn’t see it coming. You know, help is only helpful when it’s welcome and wanted. When a helpi...

I used to contribute to my little hometown paper. After a new editor and I failed to see eye to eye on a small handful of issues, we decided I don’t contribute to the paper anymore. That’s OK. We all have boundaries. In the process of the break up, I came to appreciate the power of the press more than I had before. Both my parents had worked in the newspaper industry (my mom as a typesetter/printer and my dad as a linotype operator, before the days of computerization), and I figured I had a healthy respect for the creation, description and dissemination of the facts. When news was not news, but opinion, it was clearly labeled just that: opinion. Before recently, I hadn’t considered the ‘responsibility’ of the editor to tell readers what they’re reading before they read it, via the headline (nor the possibility that editors or publishers in small-town America might be in the business of propaganda). A headline not only summarize a piece, but can easily influence the opinions of readers...

I’ve issued only one ultimatum in my life, so far. I haven’t found it necessary to draw a line in the sand at the end of a relationship, because I tried to draw my lines sooner. As I write this piece for submission to the new editor of the Blanco County News, I’m considering the possible ramification of some lines in the sand I’ve drawn between him and me. One, for instance, is my request that a header not be included at the beginning of Fit Tips to synopsize its content. It’s my intention that readers of Fit Tips not be told what they’re supposed gain from it before they ever read it. This column is similar to a personal training program, in my view, including not only physical aspects of coaching, but metaphysical. Mr. Domke has told me he’ll continue to include the header. I’ve said what I want; I’ve tried to establish clear boundaries in this new relationship. He is doing the same. Unlike establishment of boundaries, ultimatums are like dropping a bomb on a relationship, either wi...

I teach fitness classes. The strong women who regularly “Sweat with Sally,” come from varied backgrounds and range in ages between 40 and 70 (that’s not counting the youngsters who show up from time to time). We all have slightly differing motivation, but come together with the generally common goal to sustain and improve our overall health and strength. We each take something different away from the class for a few reasons. Consider: Each Monday, we do loaded movement training of upper body and arms. The same exercises that make Kim’s biceps achy may affect Robin’s front deltoids more than her biceps. Why? Partly because Kim’s body and Robin’s body have different strengths and different needs. Exercise response is dependent upon several factors. The level of exertion and the proper (or improper) form of the body during a workout, affects exercise response. Speed and load are variables that come into play. Age, gender and build are all influences that make a difference in the effects ...

At the root of the revolution in my life this past year 2014: What is love? Some have defined it as a feeling. I suppose the way we feel is part of it...but, if you feel something inside...if you say you love me because of how you feel about me; tell me how that affects me? I will tell you: It doesn't affect me. Just like what you think. Don’t believe me? Go ahead and think something right now. Are you thinking it? I can tell you honestly, it has had absolutely no effect on me. As a matter of fact, I don’t even know what thought you were thinking. And you know what? Not only do I not know what you're thinking, I don’t know how you feel, either. So, do your 'feelings' really matter to me? Well...if you’re significant to me, they do matter, but the point remains: HOW you feel has no effect on me. Now…WHAT you do about your feelings may affect me. Actually, it’s WHAT you do about your feelings that lets me know how you really feel…it’s what you do that may actually affect ...

I’ve tried to teach my children to be grateful and to express gratitude when having been given a gift. When they were generously given sports drinks (which I rarely buy), while at the home of a friend recently, not one, but TWO of them asked for a second. I was so embarrassed at such a display of poor manners. I realize their behavior is the result of my teaching, or failure to teach, as the case may be. I understand them, though. I receive gifts all the time. Then I ask for more, please. I’m sad because I didn’t get as much as I wanted. I’m disappointed I didn’t have it as long as I wanted. It wasn’t the exact kind I wanted. I’m unhappy because I’m ungrateful. I’ve had a three decade long marriage to a man who loved me. I’ve given birth to nine beautiful children. I’m not unintelligent. Father in Heaven has blessed me with many gifts, for which I'm grateful. I should be only grateful. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself for some intermittent sorrow, now should I? The other evening I...