Fog Busting

The thing about the mental fog that comes with loss, loss of any kind, is that you can’t just rent a wind machine and blow it away.  You can’t will it away, or wish it away.  For that matter, half the time you don’t even realize you’re in a fog.

Nasty stuff, fog.  And when it starts to lift, it tends to do what fog so often does.  It rolls right back in again.

But eventually it dissipates for good, and then you’re left to figure out where you are, where you want to go next.  Sometimes you even need to know who you want to be next, because you were in the fog for so long that your world changed shape while it was waiting for you to come back.  Friends left.  Your job changed.  The world moved on because it exists in a fog-free zone.  Lucky world.

I’ve always thought that the biggest failing of the 12 Step programs is that they don’t have a thirteenth step and a fourteenth step.  Why stop at 12?

Because the thirteenth step involves leaving the past behind and joining the present.  No one has written a program for that.  But they should.  Maybe Cee and I will.

Peace and many hugs, my friends.

Chris

New Year, New Focus

Hi!  Chris here.  My life took a little curve last year (in a very good way), and that took me away from this blog.  But it’s a new year, and I have a new focus that I can’t wait to share with all of you.  Over the course of the coming week, I’ll fill you in on what I have planned.  I hope you’ll be interested in it.

Grief work is important to me, but moving beyond grief is even more important.  Grief can keep us stuck in the past, can keep us going over and over the same feelings of loss, the same thoughts, memories and questions that will never be answered.

What I love about my work is that I help people reframe those feelings and thoughts in a way that allows them to become a little more present, get a little more back in touch with life.  Grief keeps us in a mental and emotional fog.  I love being a fog-buster.

So stay tuned for some exciting and new ideas…

Hugs!

Chris

Depression, Suicide, Photography

I had a wonderful story to tell you for today’s post, but Cee distracted me with another blog that deserves to be recognized for exceptional writing.  I would like to present Jenn Mishra of “Traveling at Wit’s End”.

Jenn writes about her own battles with depression and suicide in a frank and deeply personal way.  She also tells how a photography project helps keep her grounded and moving forward.  Her photography is incredibly beautiful, a delight to view.  Her story is compelling and courageous.  Please read her blog and let her know how much her words resonated with you.

Cee and I have family members who battle depression.  We’ve done the same when Cee was critically ill, chronically suffering.  I’ve worked for years with grieving children and their families and have heard their heartbreak when suicide struck their family.  There are no answers for them.

But there could be answers for all of us if we would just talk about depression, about suicidal thinking.  The only shame about mental health is when we don’t talk, and we don’t listen, and another life ends early.

Here in Oregon where we live, suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death for young people, topped only by traffic accidents.  We have the 8th highest suicide rate in the nation.

If you would like information about suicide in your state go to AFSP’s suicide statistics page.

If you are in crisis, please call the

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255)

or contact the Crisis Text Line by texting TALK to 741741.

Here is a link to American Foundation for Suicide Prevention Suicide Risk Factors and Warning Signs.

With much love and appreciation,

Chris (and Cee)

One Million


I’m going to take a break from grief for a moment (I heard you sighing!) and put out a personal plea for your help.  Cee is quickly approaching the milestone of having ONE MILLION views on her personal site.  She’s a teacher of photographic composition and runs some of the most popular photography challenges on WordPress.  If you would be so kind, would you please pop over to Cee’s Photography site and look at a few pages?  It will be fun to push her over the million mark.

Thank you!

P.S.  She doesn’t know I’m posting this.  I’m including it as part of my June Joy.

Hugs and smiles!

Chris

Grief and Joy

We’re five days into June and I’m still trying to catch up after last week’s laptop melt down.  Should we talk about what happens to us when our electronics die on us?

Before that event, I was writing a post about grief and joy.  When I’m helping people work through the death of a loved one, they are often surprised when I warn them that there will be times when we will laugh together.  In the depths of their pain, they don’t believe it to be possible.  But it is, and it does happen.

Just as we have to allow ourselves to feel the pain of loss, so we also have to be willing to feel the lightness of laughter when it comes.  Staying sad won’t bring anyone back into your life.  But as we take those steps to recovery, smiling, laughing, enjoying life once again are natural outcomes.  And let’s be honest, isn’t that why we’re all here?  To go beyond the loss?

I thought about this topic the other night when some laughter rang out during our support group.  No one gasped, or looked guilty, or stopped the laughter.  We had been tackling some heavy subjects, and it felt good to step back, take a deep breath and crack a joke.

Even if you can’t reach high enough to embrace joy and laughter, you can try for happiness, or calm, or just a quiet moment.  Little changes can add up to big relief.

The other reason why I thought about the topic is the arrival of June’s newsletter from the Action For Happiness group in England.  They included a graphic (click here to download) with some wonderful ideas for bringing joy into your life and the lives of others during June.  I thought I would share it with you.  If you are up to it, find something that you can share with everyone in your world.

Smile.  Hug someone you love.  Lift your face up to the sun.  Find happiness again.

Many blessings and lots of cyber hugs!

Chris

 

Dog Tag Memories

Dog tags.  For years they were always with me.  Day and night, dangling over my heart.  I don’t know what became of them once I took off my uniform for the last time.  I kept them for a while but they were lost somewhere, some time ago, in a move from here to there.  

Mine were from the Vietnam era, the 1960s and 70s.  We didn’t have the fancy silencers on ours that they have today, those little coverings around the edges that keep them quiet.  Ours did tend to clink together, easily giving away your position if you were trying to be stealthy.

They always give you two of them, you know.  One stays with your body and the other goes back for the identification record.

I’m mentioning all of this because in the United States, we are going to celebrate Memorial Day this weekend.  I know many other countries have a similar day when they pause to reflect upon the sacrifices that brave men and women have made to keep others free.

Let us remember not only those who gave their lives, but those who lost their lives in other ways when they came back so damaged that they are now homeless and unable to adjust to civilian life.

The wounds of war run deep and can be so very hard to close.

How many of you have suffered the loss of a family member or close friend?  How many of you have memorabilia, like dog tags, or a flag, or medals?  Do you have a story to tell?

With deep love and respect,

Chris

Isolation

When I went through the certification training to teach the Grief Recovery Method, I had a personal moment of enlightenment.  I discovered that living with loss forced me into isolation.  And with each successive loss in my life, isolation become more and more my modus operandi, my way of living life.

I thought I was so clever to analyze the patterns of loss and come up with that revelation, until the instructor pointed out that he had written that on the white board for us during the very first day of class.  His comment had gone right over my head, until I stumbled across it by accident while doing my homework.

I didn’t come up with that on my own, but I did live it for decades without realizing it.  Now I hear people in my groups come to the same clarity of understanding.  Isolation is the most common trait of grieving people.  Why?  Because grieving people make us uncomfortable so we tell them to get over it, to move on, to get busy, to get a life, to get over it.  It doesn’t matter if the griever is dealing with death, divorce, or any of the other seventy-two losses we have on our list, people don’t want to hear it.  It makes them uncomfortable to see how close their lives are to that kind of pain.

So grievers end up shunned by society, pushed away by their co-workers who need them to be normal and pulling their weight, ignored by all the people who are busy getting on with things.  They learn to live a life of “less than” the way they were before their loss.

What I also learned in my Grief Recovery training is that there are ways of breaking out of isolation.  We can   see this trait in ourselves and change how we respond to loss and life.

Have you ever felt isolated?  Can you trace that feeling back to a loss in your life?

Hugs!

Chris

 

I can’t hear you any more

Something I hear quite often from the grieving parents and children I work with is that they can’t remember what their loved one sounded like.  They have plenty of pictures and other mementos, but they are missing a voice.  I’ve seen children become quite upset by that, as if their parent will be truly gone only when they are no longer heard.

A voice.  Something we take for granted until we no longer hear it saying, “I love you.”  Or telling a story or joke.  Or helping you talk through a troubling time in your life.  Or giving you encouragement when you need it the most.

The quality of a voice.  How it sounds when a person is getting sleepy, or excited, or happy or sad.

If you would like to have a voice to remember, here is a wonderful article on “Grief and Oral History” to get you started.  Or you can visit StoryCorps for some good ideas of recording your own family’s voices.  Start now before your world becomes too silent.

Many hugs!

Chris

 

 

 

Baby Steps

It’s taken years, but Cee has convinced me that taking baby steps is much better than trying to quantum leap over life’s challenges.  She’s so smart!  Baby steps, to me, were things people did when they were sick or feeble.  Not so!  There is a wonderful advantage to breaking things down into tiny steps instead of trying to take the world by storm.

I was reminded of this today as I listened to an inspirational audio.  The young woman who was speaking asked the listener to relax, and take a few deep breaths, then remember something or someone who brought you joy or made you feel good.  Then she said that if the thing you brought to mind was something big, like a person, you were to break it down into something easier to appreciate.  Break it down into baby steps.  Think of the person and what you appreciate about them.  A smile?  A silly sense of humor?  A caring touch?  A good hug?  She said that the small things will stay with you longer.  I liked that idea of baby stepping through appreciation.

As I went through my day, I practiced baby stepping through appreciation.  I loved the smell of the fresh air after a gentle rain.  I noticed that some or our irises have opened, and I truly appreciated their beauty.  It’s been a fun day of baby steps.

The energy generated by those baby steps of appreciation sent ripples out to other people.  When I stopped for coffee, the barista recognized me, asked my name and introduced herself.  Merissa, you have a beautiful smile.  Thank you for asking my name.

In the next store, the young man who was checking me out kidded me that I must really like him because I always come through when he’s on duty.  He introduced himself as well, and I will be sure to greet Jacob by name from now on.  Cee reminded me that I had previously pointed out his “You Matter” silicon band, and mentioned that I, too, wear one for suicide prevention.  Thank you, Jacob, for brightening my day.

No matter where we are in loss and the feelings of grief, we can still take time to pause and take a baby step back to stability, to happiness, to wellbeing.  Focus on the little things, one after the other.  Baby steps will keep you moving forward, at least a little bit at a time.

(About the picture… I found a lot of pictures of human babies taking little steps, and they were cute pictures, but there was something about this duckling that made me giggle, so I just had to use it.)

Many hugs and a big smile,

Chris

 

 

 

 

 

My Instant Pot Adventure

Loss and the grief it causes tend to create a lot of pressure inside you.  You have so many conflicting thoughts and feelings bouncing around that you start to feel like a tea kettle that is ready to boil, and sometimes like you’re going to explode.  And since loss and grief accumulate, if you don’t do something to complete them, the pressure can be overwhelming.  That’s when people look for ways to relieve those feelings inside.  Everyone does it some way or another.  Alcohol or drugs are hugely popular choices.  “Retail therapy”.  Too much binge watching of television.  Other types of escapism.  Sex.  Working extra long hours.   We all find ways to dull the pain and tension that come with grief.

My coping mechanism was eating, because it seemed like the only fun thing left in my life.  I started with some overeating at the beginning but that sunk into eating all the wrong foods.  It was easier to walk to the car, drive to a fast food place, and walk back into the house with a bag of unhealthy food than expend the energy to cook.  That took planning.  And caring.  Two things I didn’t have much of back then.  So now I’m overweight, addicted to taking the easy way out of meal planning and now sure how to unravel that.

I’ve cleared up enough grief that I don’t need that coping mechanism anymore, but…. and this is a big BUT…. it’s now hard wired into my brain.  I’ve become addicted to eating junk, to taking the easy way out.  Our brains do that to us, in trying to be helpful.  Junk food = relief = do it again because feeling better is good, then keep doing it until the pattern is well ingrained as a habit.  So now I’m trying to undo all of that.  Not so easy!!!!!!

One thing I know I do is use work as an excuse.  I often have meetings during lunch because I work with people in other time zones.  It’s easier to grab a protein bar (or two) or a TV dinner than it is to take the time to cook something.  And after work I’m too tired to cook, of course.  Ah, the things addiction does to cloud your thinking.

I tried meal planning, but that was in direct opposition to my addiction.  Part of my day job is to be a project manager, so you’d think I’d take to meal planning like a duck to water.   Not so.  I say that I’m too burned out from doing that during the day to want to do it in my free time.

The other excuse was that I didn’t know what to eat any more.  There are too many conflicting nutritional theories out there.  Even our doctors don’t agree, so I don’t know what to eat.  Cee called my bluff on that by having me make a list of the foods I used to love to eat before she got sick, when I was thin and still cooking food.  So I can’t use that excuse any more.

I decided to try the Instant Pot (IP), just to see if it made it easier to get things cooked.  And it does.  It is amazing.  For those of you who don’t know what it is, it’s an electric pressure cooker that has replaced my sauté pan, rice cooker, crock pot and soup kettle.  It’s incredible, and reduces cooking time.  I can grab some frozen chicken breasts, throw them in the IP and have them perfectly cooked in about 10- 12 minutes.  From frozen.  Go figure!  No fuss, no muss.  I can add it to a salad for lunch and I’m done.  I can focus on eating healthier instead of  creating excuses.

I’m still not out from under my fast food addiction, but I’m working on it, one instant pot meal at a time.  Fresh ingredients, no preservatives, cooked from scratch, but without me having to slave over a hot stove.

Now if I can just get Cee to hide the car keys…

For all you IP lovers out there, please send me your favorite recipes.  They will be greatly appreciated, especially vegetarian ones.  

Hugs and bon appetit.

Chris

 

The Circle Game

I heard Joni Mitchell’s “The Circle Game” playing the other day and I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.  (The song and lyrics links are below.)  It speaks so much to loss and grief.  It’s a poignant song about a young boy growing to manhood and how his hopes and dreams are changed by the losses he encounters going through life.

We’re captive on a carousel of time…

The song’s chorus talks about going round and round, and being captives on a carousel of time.  Isn’t that how grief works?  We never quite get over it.  We just experience one loss after another, some small, some big, but always adding to our load, stuck on a seemingly never ending carousel of time.

We can’t return, we can only look behind from where we came….

And how often does that happen?  We spend too much time in the past, living with painful memories, having trouble moving forward.

Cee and I tell you that we are Certified Grief Recovery Specialists but we haven’t really explained much about the Grief Recovery Method (GRM).  It’s a practical and proven way to break that never ending circle, to get you off the carousel of time.

How can I explain GRM in a nutshell?  We start by giving you a better understanding of loss and the part it’s played in your life.  We talk about how the world deals with grief, and the ineffectiveness of what we refer to as grief myths.  Then we help you chart the losses in your life, so that you can see how they’ve influenced your beliefs, attitudes and behaviors all these years.  We work together to unravel your relationships, one at a time,  that you would like to complete with a person, living or dead.  Your grief generally stems from having unfulfilled hopes, dreams and expectations, and communication with someone that was never voiced.  There are things you still need to say to that person so that you can get some peace.  We help you say them, and bear witness to that.

What does all that accomplish?  It gets us out of the circle game.

(Joni Mitchell is a very talented Canadian singer, songwriter and artist.  She’s been a favorite of mine since high school.  —  Chris)

The Circle Game

by Joni Mitchell, L.A. Express

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, when you’re older, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels through the town
And they tell him,
Take your time, it won’t be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There’ll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through

And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
We’re captive on the carousel of time
We can’t return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

Songwriters: Joni Mitchell, 1966

The Circle Game lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Crazy Crow Music / Siquomb Music Publishing

Losses in the Aging Process

Our dear friend and mentor, Cari Dawson, graces us once again with her words of wisdom.  We go through tremendous losses as we age, and those seem to accelerate with every passing year.  Since I’m only eight years younger than Cari, I can align quite easily with what she is saying.  And it’s about time someone said it!

I have been a Grief Recovery Specialist for nearly twenty three years. The loss of a grandchild was the catalyst for me, an event that started me on this life-saving work so that I could help others. My loss history is lengthy: I’ve lost parents, a 2-year-old niece and a 25-year-old nephew, a brother, other family members, pets, jobs, lifestyles, husbands, friends, trust, and patients. Now, as I move deeper into my mid-seventies, I am becoming more acutely aware of the losses associated with aging.

The most obvious loss in aging is the fact of limited time on earth. It becomes more real that gravity is chipping away at us. There are subtle and not so subtle clues that we are disappearing. One of my friends talks about the invisibility in this elderly period of life as we are embedded in a culture of youth. “When people talk to me, I don’t feel like they see me.” Others say they don’t recognize the person in their mirror. “Who is that old lady? I don’t feel like what I am seeing.”  Friends complain that their lives are narrowing, that doctor visits are crowding their calendars. Some are losing their joints and other body parts.  They are getting hips and knees replaced, cataracts removed, hearing aids fitted, open heart surgery. Almost all of us have arthritic changes, we lose flexibility and dexterity, we lose cadence when we reach for words that don’t come as easily as they used to. We are generally slowing down. We adapt to the gradual losses, but as I am wont to say hoping to lighten up with dark humor, “None of us is getting out of here alive.”

And we often experience a loss of dignity. I personally encountered such a loss during annual well visits with my Primary Care Physician (PCP).  Although I have managed to reach this point in life with only occasional use of prescription drugs like antibiotics and I remain in excellent physical and mental health, I am a firm believer in preventative care, routine tests and lab work. Twice in the last several years, I have felt humiliated when unsolicited, my PCP’s office performed memory tests involving my retrieving three unrelated words (sunset-chair-banana) said earlier in the visit by the health care provider. Part of this test included a request to draw an image of a clock at 11:00. I was tempted to draw the image digitally rather than as the face of a clock with hands and numbers! At a time in my life when I intentionally enter into contemplative meditation and practice letting go, I felt like I was being graded on my ability to remain linear and dualistic to please government (Medicare) and health care professionals. I doubt if the health care provider understood that I felt like a fungible commodity instead of a human being.

Putting this into perspective, I understand that tests for dementia can be a necessary and good thing, but I wonder if the health care provider considers the context of the patient (other than chronological age) before launching into such tests. For example, the first time this test was administered, I had been in the throes of grief over multiple significant losses (which happens frequently as we grow older) and was experiencing disorientation and detachment from the dualism of this world. I was in no frame of mind to remember three unrelated words and I felt that having to draw a clock with the big hand on 12 and the little hand on 11 was demeaning and counterproductive. In fact, the loss of respect and dignity compounded my losses and my grief. Am I losing my mind too?  My identity?  Am I just some thing to be charted rather than a mature woman with feelings?

On the other hand, there are so many joys of life at this stage!  Balance is the most important aspect of our lives as we age. Although I continue to work—see and counsel clients— and volunteer, it is done with utmost concern for balance and my priorities which facilitate my journey to wholeness:  contemplation, spending time with close friends and family, enjoying my furry friend, reading, and working out at the gym.  I have become more acutely aware of the clock that is ticking away and ironically and interestingly, it has given me more peace of mind and focus knowing what I thought I knew all along: that my time here is running out.

I marvel as I reflect upon a long journey from a small town Ohio Valley high school girl of seventeen whose highest aspiration was to be a secretary and housewife, to multiple and diverse careers and paths, to where I am now in my mid-seventies contentment. I hear the clock ticking like a heartbeat. It’s a good reminder to live in the present, to see the beauty in Life, to taste, touch and feel it, to grieve the inevitable losses and know it is all good.

Cari D. Dawson, MTS, MA, JD, www.transitionscelebrant.com

Cari’s previous post was about grieving the loss of a pet.

More Losses!

We’ve revised our Loss List.  We thought we were doing a good job with our 47 items until I found someone else who had 64 losses on their list.  No, this isn’t a case of loss list envy.  It’s important because grief is our reaction to loss, and if you’re ever going to move beyond the things that hold you back in life, you need to recognize and understand the impact your losses have had on your life.

So what are we adding?

  1. Estrangement from family.  I can’t believe we never had this on our list.  This is a huge issue with so many families, and for so many reasons.
  2. Entering or leaving military service.  This is another I can’t believe we forgot, since I’m a veteran.
  3. KIA.  We list MIA (Missing In Action) and POW (Prisoner Of War), but don’t have KIA (Killed In Action), so we will rectify that oversight as well.
  4. Grieving someone you didn’t know at all (like a celebrity).  Remember when Princess Diana was killed?  Or the shock we felt when Robin Williams died by suicide?  Or, if you’re from my era, when President Kennedy was assassinated?  True, these events didn’t have the impact of more personal losses, but they touched your life story.
  5. Grieving someone you only knew online (cyber loss).  We can make some good friends on line, and we feel the loss when they are no longer with us.
  6. Getting clean and the loss of drugs.  We know that sinking into addiction is a loss, but so is getting clean and sober.
  7. Death of the partner in an extra-marital affair.  This is one thing you will probably have to grieve alone.
  8. Grieving someone you can’t remember (ex. a parent who died when you were an infant).  Yes, this is a real thing.  I’ve worked with children who have problems with this.
  9. Grieving someone who died before you were born (an older sibling who died before you were born).

So that’s just a preview.  There will be other additions.  More things to come to get you thinking and remembering.

Lots of hugs,

Chris

Changing Expectations

Cee had a revelation a few days ago.  We had a great day, with plenty of physical activity, time spent cleaning up the house, planning the future and working on our business.  And we were astonished by that.

We shouldn’t have been.

She discovered that we have come to expect bad days, low achievement days, sitting in limbo days, because that is all we have known for fifteen years.  Lyme disease, and the grief that came with it, reduced the quality of our lives to barely breathing.  We were couch potatoes, not by choice but by the control Lymes had over both of us.

We don’t have to live that way any more but no one told us to change our expectations.

Drat these lives for not coming with instruction manuals.

Here’s the thing… when the circumstances of our lives change, we have to adjust our expectations, too.  Sometimes that is painfully obvious, like with the death of a spouse.   With something like a disease or illness, that isn’t always so obvious.  Cee came out of a debilitating coma with the expectation that life would return to normal, but it didn’t.

But what do we do when there are good things in our lives?  Do we think to change expectations?  Probably not.  We’ve become hard-wired the other way.  So when, like in Cee’s case, you are getting healthier and more able to move, what do you do with it?  Do you even recognize that there is an opportunity for new expectations?

Nobody ever tells you that when a life pattern changes, you have to change your expectations, but you DO have to change.  Expectations come from your heart, not from your head.  You might know that something isn’t going to happen like it used to, but that comes from your head.  Your head is telling you one thing, and your heart is saying another. You have to get the two of them in alignment with each other again.

Bad things are going to happen.  Good things are going to happen.  That’s what life is all about.

Can you think of a time your heart held onto old expectations, old dreams, good or bad, even when you head was telling you not to?  Did you adjust your expectations or not?

Lots of virtual hugs,

Chris

Chris@Cee-Chris.com

Better, Different, More

When we talk about Hopes, Dreams and Expectations, we are also quantifying them in our minds.  With any relationship, with any loss, we are always thinking of what we could have done, could have had that might have been Better, Different or More.

Here’s an example:  Almost everyone has had a change in jobs at one point in their lives.  We either move on to another job, or have lost a job, or changed careers.  But whatever the reason, we are always hoping the new position will be better than, different from or more than we had the last time.

Changing jobs, even if it is a promotion, is still a loss of the familiar, of companions and colleagues, of a certain route to work, or pattern in your day.  A loss of one set of hopes, dreams and expectations comes while another set takes its place with the new job.

When we think of that in terms of our deeply personal relationships, like our families, the idea of “Better, Different, More” becomes critical.  If we have a loss of one of them, our grief makes us even more aware of what has changed, and where we had unfulfilled wishes of what we wanted to have be better, different or more.  While we hold onto those expectations, we won’t find peace.

Think of all the important relationships in your life.  Take a moment to reflect on how you can make them better, or different, or more.  Don’t wait for a loss of someone.  Hug them now.  Thank them now.  Take the time to rejoice in the role they play in your life, how they add to it.

Lots of virtual hugs,

Chris

Chris@Cee-Chris.com

Expectations?

In our last post, Cee wrote about Incompleteness and Hopes, Dreams and Expectations.  Many of you had responses to that post.  We have a lot more to say about the topic, but we thought we’d do something a little bit different today.

Here is a picture Cee took couple of years ago of a farm field in bloom.  If you had been there with us that day, what do you expect you would have been feeling?

There is a surprise answer, and you’ll find it in tomorrow’s post.  I hope you’ll be intrigued by it.

(P.S.  If there are any farmers seeing this, please don’t give away the answer.)

(Update:  here is the explanation.)

Hugs and blessings,

Chris

Chris@Cee-Chris.com