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Beth Caldwell - The View From Here

To contact Beth, email her at caldwellandcompany@gmail.com

One small step to positive thoughts

When I go to bed at night, I'm very good at being able to empty my mind of the woebegone happenings of the day.

A long time ago, I learned how—at shut-eye time—to pack a mental suitcase with any worries, frettings, and negative thoughts I might have and give them up to my higher power for safe-keeping until the next day.

I'm a firm believer that on any given night, we all deserve a restful sleep free of the dark, regurgitated materials that might have crossed our daily path.

The evolution of my given word

It has been seven weeks since I last emptied my words here. Wow.

However, contrary to past excuses for not writing, my latest sabbatical from this column had nothing to do with being unhappy. I am, in fact, in a most content and joyful life space, and moreso in an honest and truthful vein, than I have been in for some years.

That's what happens when I listen to my intuition.

Be sure to listen to your intuition

My partner and I almost always have a date on any given Friday night.

And as the evening flows along to that inaugural refreshment, no matter what it may be, we sip not until we toast it between us with “Cheers” as we look intentionally into each other's eyes and not upon the cup or glass—to meet just there in the now, in that moment, greeting each other's most grateful company.

Sappy? Perhaps. But that eyeful ritual matters to both of us. It squares us up to purposeful acknowledgement in our presence of each of us, together.

Let's talk tush and do the right thing

Poop test kit.

I've been thinking a lot lately about those three words, mostly because I'm over 50 years of age—in fact, closer to 60 than 50 (how did that happen?!)—and four or more years overdue for colon cancer screening.

Why? Because I'm a procrastinator and as the doctor would say, “a reluctant attendee” to some (okay just this one) necessary duty of personal pro-health management.

Because let's face it, who wants to mess with a number two—on purpose?

Don't be afraid to open the closet door

Technology, Entertainment, Design. In short, “TED.”

I've been a fan of TED for years. In fact, some of the greatest lessons I've learned have been from TED, a global platform of speakers who share their ideas—be they funny, courageous, ingenious, inspiring, or informative—in talks of 18 minutes or less.

There are more than 1,700 such talks, in 100 different languages, available to us online at www.ted.com

'Buddha' battle about to go south

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, all I see is grey hair, crow's feet deep enough around my eyes to plant seeds in, breasts racing against each other to see which will reach my belly button first, and the beginning of a double chin and turkey neck.

And all of it makes me want to run screaming from the room.

To douse reality, I've thought about standing back from the mirror to the point where everything is blurry. But if I did that, I wouldn't know where I was as my eyesight, too, is slithering downhill.

Surprise visits worse than squishy toes

I managed to get through this past weekend without a sea of cat barf.

However, about halfway through my lazy Saturday morning sporting pajamas, raccoon-eyes of mascara, and a “Bride of Frankenstein” hairdo, I would have traded the incoming moment for something squishy between my toes.

My cellphone went off and I answered it to find the “FaceTime" video app open up and reveal my dishevelled appearance to the person on the other end, whose first words were, "Oh, good heavens, is that you?”

Wishing I could start the day over

The usual sounds and smells that are welcome to wake me up in the morning are the subtle waft of caffeine perking out of the coffee-maker and the beeps that spell “Ready,” the drift to the nostrils of fresh bread baked by timer in the bread-maker, and the smell of bacon (yep, bacon rocks).

Of course, none of these wonderful stimuli avail themselves in my neck of the woods. Nope.

There are benefits to being 'unplugged'

Sometimes everything in my life comes together—and sometimes I have to coax it into place like a scared dog.

I was in the shower enjoying my hot water therapy session Thursday night when I stopped scrubbing and opened my eyes as a sudden and impending doom washed my peace and tranquility down the drain with the suds.

I hadn't heard the sump pump (which at my house collects all the grey water in a reservoir in the basement and pumps it out to my septic tank) go off at all in the 15 minutes I'd been under the showerhead.

All that matters is 'the moment'

One of my favourite “what life is really about” pieces of writing was penned by the very, very wise female columnist, Mary Schmich, which garnered her the Pulitzer Prize for Commentary in 2012.

Reading it slowly (and it's best said out loud) takes about five minutes and holds, in my humble opinion, some of the best third-party advice I've ever absorbed.