Are You Strong Enough to Join Me in One Year of No Shopping?

Do we need it, or are we simply spoiled?

Photo by Burgess Milner on Unsplash

I own two pairs of walking shoes, two pairs of hiking boots, and two pairs of court shoes. 

That’s six pairs of shoes, and I haven’t even counted the ballet flats, heels, boots, and sandals that fill the shelves of my closet.

My rational mind tells me I must alternate the athletic shoes, never wearing the same pair on two consecutive days.

 I heard they had to air out. Seriously? For over 24 hours? Hmmm. Could this be an advertising ploy, so we buy more?

I ordered undereye cream and was incorrectly sent and charged for two rather than one. I decided I’d keep the extra as I’ll eventually use it. No matter that one tube lasts at least six months. 

Don’t even get me started on how I shop when Athleta or Everlane, two of my favorite online retailers, have a sale or a “special” discount for loyal customers. Shameful, I’m afraid.

And books. Hey, it’s an education, a pastime, good for forging new brain neural pathways, right? 

My latest read is These Precious Days by Ann Patchett, a compilation of essays. 

In her article “My Year of No Shopping,” Ann relates how her friend Elissa inspired her not to buy one thing for an entire year.

Ann planned to give up buying articles to wear and whimsical things like electronic speakers that were not necessary.

 She could buy anything in a grocery store, including flowers. I like that one. I must have food and flowers, too.

She could buy shampoo, lip balm, and batteries, but only after her supply was used up.

Ann ran out of lip balm early into her no-shopping year. Before buying anew, she looked through her desk drawers and coat pockets and found five. In her search for lip balms, Ann discovered she had enough lotion, soap, and dental floss to last the next three years.

I bet you, and I could find an ample supply of these items under our sinks, too.

Plane tickets and eating out also was permissible. 

And books — as a writer and co-owner of a bookstore, Ann decided books were a given.

I like the idea that buying books are okay. However, I have a tall stack of unread novels on my shelf. I promise to read these before buying another one.

I do not need another sweater, jacket, slacks — you get the idea.

In my defense, I am a donator of clothing. I continuously edit my closet. My favorite recipients are my lovely, hardworking, and grateful housecleaners. 

Since I won’t be purchasing any clothing for the next year, I’ll be more prudent before handing over my goods. Still, there’s plenty to weed out that hasn’t touched my body in quite some time.

Handbags — that’s another obsession. It’ll do my wallet good to curb that for the next 12 months.

I’m excited about this upcoming experiment. 

Will you join me in this investigation into using what we already own rather than spending our hard-earning money on what is wanted but not needed?

Perhaps, we could earmark a portion of our savings and donate to our favorite charity. 

Shopping online has become a recreation when I’m between activities like waiting for the broccoli to steam for dinner. 

Any few moments can be filled with online “retail browsing.”

I now recognize this as a time-waster. My body would benefit from a few sit-ups instead.

I thank you, Ann Patchett, for this great idea and experiment in using what I own and appreciating all I have. My wallet thanks you, too.

Hubby, also, is ever so grateful.

She Wasn’t Powerful Enough to Beat the Addiction of Alcohol

 

This is a true accounting of a woman who gave her life to alcohol.

Photo by Akhil Pawar on Unsplash

Kat was a smallish woman — maybe 105 pounds, tops, and about five feet two. 

Kat was funny as all get-out — when she was sober. She had the sense of humor of a gifted comedienne. However, she was infrequently sober, regrettably.

I got to know her through our sons’ Little League games. Kat would deliver her boy to the game around 10 a.m. on Saturday mornings, and she was already half-snockered. 

What a sad and pathetic sight to behold. Mostly, I felt for her sweet son. This 8-year-old now had to do his best to play a game, knowing that others witnessed his mother’s drunken behavior.

Her fiance’ was the coach of our sons’ team. He and I got to know one another as the boys became friends.

Don asked me if I could find a place in my business for Kat as she desperately needed a job.

I agreed with the stipulation that she would be immediately terminated if she ever arrived drunk to work.

Kat worked for about one month and was doing okay though I could tell most days she was hungover.

One day in the middle of our conversation, she had a seizure. Paramedics arrived, and Kat was resuscitated and taken to the hospital for examination.

Earlier that morning, when I noticed she seemed particularly out of sorts, she confided that she drank an entire bottle of vodka the previous night and was feeling especially ill.

I was drinking in those days as well but only indulged in one glass of wine on weeknights as I knew I had to be sharp for work the next day. 

For the life of me, I could not fathom how someone could be so addicted to the drink that they would consume an entire bottle. 

I had to let her go. She would have to find another job. I could not allow this type of behavior from an employee.

Over the next several years, Kat lost custody of her two children. This forced her to enter rehabilitation.

Shortly after a “successful” rehab, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

As we know, alcohol can contribute to many cancers, including breast.

Kat wanted to marry Don. He wanted to marry Kat, however, with the condition that she must remain sober for one year before the ceremony.

He did not want to marry a drunk. He had had enough painful, intoxicated years with her and set his boundary.

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She made it through that year — sober and healthier and managing through a mastectomy. 

Don and Kat married. At the wedding reception, Kat decided she could have a glass of champagne in celebration.

That was the start of a year of addiction once again. 

Tragically, by year’s end, Kat was dead.

She left behind two inconsolable children and a husband who was devasted and broken.

No one could help Kat though they did everything to try and save her.

Did Kat want to be saved? Were her demons stronger than her will to stay sober? What pain had she endured that she was unable to overcome?

What do some of us possess that we know we must quit or our lives would be wasted? 

I know I felt that I had already squandered way too many years of drinking and the aftermath — feeling unwell the following day. 

There was no way I wanted to miss my life. I had to stop the imbibing. 

Was it possible Kat’s addiction went way beyond what we lived with? 

Her children were still young. Her husband adored her. 

She had so many reasons to want to stay away from the drink.

No, alcohol wasn’t listed as the cause of her demise on the death certificate, yet it certainly was a major contributing factor.

Perhaps if she did not overdrink, she could have escaped the horrible disease of cancer?

These heartbreaking questions will always remain unanswered. 

Thank goodness for those of us who have conquered the insidious illness of alcoholism.

We must be ever conscious each day of how blessed were are to have the strength to say no to alcohol.

Try a Little Kindness and Compassion and Watch Your Self-Confidence Soar

Without compassion for ourselves, we will fail.

Photo by rashid khreiss on Unsplash

Some of us were raised with parents who believed that pointing out our errors and missteps was how to raise strong and resilient children. Perhaps we did grow up to be tough and tenacious. 

The problem with that type of childrearing also brought about self-criticism and maybe even lower self-esteem than kindness and gentle guidance would have begotten. 

Those of us raised that way, and I was one, also tend to have less self-compassion. Less acceptance of our mistakes. Often our go-to knee-jerk reaction to an error we’ve made — or something we consider a blunder is harsh criticism. 

How could I have been so stupid to say that? What will she think of me? When will I learn to say, do, or even think the “right” thing?

Enter self-compassion. The elixir of self-criticism. The magic potion that can teach us acceptance and help us eradicate self-contempt. 

Self-contempt is a harsh word, yet it is often aroused whenever we beat ourselves up for an imagined or possible severe blunder.

Perhaps, a silly mistake only brings out a bit of embarrassment. Yet, even being embarrassed by our misstep is a slap in the face of kindness to ourselves.

Let us be kind to ourselves always.

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After a game of pickleball, one of the players commented on how frustrated she was about her level of play that day. She chastised herself for easy shots blown and how inept she was to miss them.

Immediately, the three of us who played with her jumped right in. We reassured her that everyone has a bad game or even an entire day’s worth of bad games. We told her that she wouldn’t speak to a friend or child that way — why was she doing it to herself?

We laughed as we realized that we had committed similar self-criticisms, and did it improve our game? Not in the slightest.

Self-criticism can shut us down from improving in any endeavor and thwart our self-confidence in a heartbeat.

Kindness and self-compassion will improve our game much quicker. Of course, realizing what we did wrong and taking appropriate steps to correct that shot is also valuable.

Wherever our lack of confidence shows up, we must take actionable measures to learn and grow — whether in a sport, writing, or being a better friend. Our self-esteem will unfold with knowledge and self-kindness.

Also, your confidence will expand by trusting yourself and being your best cheerleader. Practice self-love by reminding yourself how capable you are. Reclaim your self-esteem by reflecting on all the successes and wins you have attained, significant and minor. 

"If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete. "— Budda

I remind myself daily — we are put on earth to experience joy, spread love, and be grateful for all we have. Calling these words to mind also reinforces our confidence and self-love.

You deserve love. Above all, you deserve to love yourself.

Isn’t It Painful When Friends Reject You— What Now?

 

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Quit listening to your thoughts— it’s not you — it’s your mind!

Photo by Ewelina Karezona Karbowiak on Unsplash

My friend, Carol, a pickleball enthusiast I play with often, had an issue she was struggling with.

In her mind, she felt slighted by two players. They stopped inviting Carol to play with her as they may have been a bit more advanced than she. She was hurt and confused as she had been willing and happy to play with them when they were newbies, even though she would have rather played with others more on her level.

The women met to play several more times, and Carol was left out, once again.

They were her friends — why would they treat her this way?

Carol was crushed.

You may be thinking — wait, this is an adult woman? She’s behaving like an adolescent whining over something as inconsequential as that? 

It has been said we don’t care what others think of us once we reach a certain age. I don’t care if you’re 105 — when someone slights you, it can hurt. I’m glad I was available to help soothe my friend’s ruffled feathers.

Coincidentally, I came across this sentence in a novel I’m currently reading:

"The politest of rejections eats into the soul, destroying the trust that might have existed, the friendship that might have survived." — The Bay of Angels, Anita Brookner, author.

After allowing her feelings to marinate for several days, Carol concluded that even though her perception was that her friends snubbed her, she was every bit as worthwhile and goodhearted as before these heartwrenching thoughts entered her head.

Carol has decided to take this as a lesson in self-love. 

This decision did not come to her readily, as all indications pointed that she was intentionally being avoided.

"We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves strong. The amount of work is the same. "— Carlos Castaneda.

Carol summoned up her pride and self-esteem and decided that she would take the high road whatever her friends’ reasons for the rejection. She would accept that they appeared to rebuff her and know that this experience would not change her life immensely and could be an opportunity to embrace self-acceptance.

Sometimes we need a stunning wake-up call to remind us of our goodness, our value in the world, and to once again, turn our faces to the sun and say thank you, God, the universe, powers that be — for the reminder that we are on earth to learn, grow and experience joy — no matter our age.