Beyond Reacting - Remembering to Pause

Remembering to pause & take a breath before we react can shift the energy of the outcome.
We have all had the experience of reacting in a way that was less than ideal upon hearing bad news, or being unfairly criticized, or being told something we did not want to hear. This makes sense because when our emotions are triggered, they tend to take center stage, inhibiting our ability to pause before we speak. We may feel compelled to release the tension by expressing ourselves in some way, whether it’s yelling back at the person yelling at us, or rushing to deliver words of comfort to a friend in trouble. However, there is much to be said for teaching ourselves to remember to pause & take a deep breath before we respond to the shocks & insults that can come our way in life.

For one thing, our initial response is not always what’s best for us, or for the other people involved. Reacting to childish rage with childish rage will only escalate the negativity in a situation, further ensnaring us in an undesirable dynamic. Similarly, when we react defensively, or simply thoughtlessly, we often end up feeling regret over our words or actions. In the end, we save ourselves a lot of pain when we take a deep breath & really tune in to ourselves & the other person, before we respond. This doesn’t necessarily mean we don’t say anything, although in some cases, that may be the best option.

Some situations require a fairly immediate response, but even just a moment of grounding ourselves before we do so can help enormously. The next time you find yourself wanting to react, try to pause & in that pause, take a deep breath. Feel your feet on the floor, the air on your skin & listen for a response to arise within you, rather than just going with the first thing that pops into your head. You may find that in that moment, there is the potential to move beyond reaction & into the more subtle & creative realm of response, where something new can happen.

Create a Supportive Life Story -  Empowered Storytelling

We all have a story to tell, but sometimes we get stuck in that story & become our story.
 
We all have our own life story. It is filled with relationships & events that help shape who we are & what we believe to be true about the world. Depending on our perspective & willingness to grow, our experiences can become fodder for negativity & patterns of playing the victim, or they can fuel a life of empowerment & continued self-development. It is the story we tell ourselves about what happens that makes all the difference.

Take a moment to look at the life story you create for yourself on an ongoing basis. If you generally feel peaceful about the past & trust in your ability to handle whatever comes your way, then you are framing circumstances in a manner that serves you well. On the other hand, if you retain a lot of guilt or resentment & often feel weighed down by life, you may want to start telling yourself a new version of past & present events. No matter who the characters are in your story or what they have done, you are the only one who can give their actions the meaning they will have for you. You are the only one who can define what role you will play in your own life. By taking responsibility for your story, you are able to learn & grow, forgive & find compassion, & most importantly, move on into a brighter future.

From now on, you can choose a life story that supports you. Let it be proof of your own resilience & creativity. Be kind with the roles you give yourself & generous with how many chances you get to learn what you need to know. When you remember that you are the author of your own story, you are free to create a masterpiece.

A Carpenter, returning home with his month’s wages, was stopped by an armed robber on a deserted street.

“Take my money,” said the carpenter, “but do me a favour: “Shoot a bullet through my hat otherwise my wife won’t believe I was robbed.”

The robber obliged. He threw the hat into the air and put a bullet through it.
“Let’s make it look as if I ran into a gang of robbers, “otherwise my wife will call me a coward! Please shoot a number of holes through my coat.”
So the robber shot a number of holes through the carpenter’s coat. “And now…” continued the carpenter....
“Sorry,” interrupted the robber. “No more holes. I’m out of bullets.”
“That’s all I wanted to know. He caught the thief and bashed him black and blue. “Now hand me back my money and some more for the hat and coat that you’ve ruined or I’ll beat you again!”The robber threw down the money and ran.

Moral:   It's never too late to use our brains to get out of a difficult situation!!

What Goes Around Comes Around !

Fleming was a poor Scottish farmer !

·         He heard a cry for help coming from a nearby bog, he ran to the bog. There, mired to his waist in black muck, was a terrified boy, screaming and struggling to free himself. Farmer Fleming saved the lad from what could have been a slow and terrifying death.

·         The next day, a fancy carriage pulled up to the Scotsman's sparse surroundings. An elegantly dressed nobleman stepped out and introduced himself as the father of the boy Farmer Fleming had saved.

·         "I want to repay you," said the nobleman. "You saved my son's life."

·         "No, I can't accept payment for what I did," the Scottish farmer replied, waving off the offer.

·         At that moment, the farmer's own son came to the door of the family hovel. "Is that your son?" the nobleman asked.

·         "Yes," the farmer replied proudly.

·         "I'll make you a deal. Let me provide him with the level of education my own son will enjoy. If the lad is anything like his father, he'll no doubt grow to be a man we both will be proud of." And that he did.

·         Farmer Fleming's son attended the very best schools and in time, he graduated from St. Mary's Hospital Medical School in London, and went on to become known throughout the world as the noted Sir Alexander Fleming, the discoverer of Penicillin.

·         Years afterward, the same nobleman's son who was saved from the bog was stricken with pneumonia. What saved his life this time? Penicillin ! !

·         The name of the nobleman? Lord Randolph Churchill. His son's name? Sir Winston Churchill.

Someone once said: "What goes around comes around."

The first day of school our professor introduced himself & challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.

I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being..

She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm 87 years old. Can I give you a hug?'

I laughed & enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze..

'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.

She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, & have a couple of kids...'

'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.

'I always dreamed of having a college education & now I'm getting one!' she told me.

After class we walked to the student union building & shared a chocolate milkshake.

We became instant friends. Every day for the next 3 months we would leave class together & talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom & experience with me..

Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon & she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up & she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.

At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced & stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.

Frustrated & a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone & simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent & this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'

As we laughed she cleared her throat & began, ' We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing.

There are only 4 secrets to staying young, being happy & achieving success. You have to laugh & find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die.

We have so many people walking around who are dead & don't even know it!

There is a huge difference between growing older & growing up.

If you are 19 years old and lie in bed for one full year & don't do one productive thing, you will turn 20 years old. If I am 87 years old & stay in bed for a year & never do anything I will turn 88.

Anybody! Can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.

The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets..'

She concluded her speech by courageously singing 'The Rose.'

She challenged each of us to study the lyrics & live them out in our daily lives. At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those months ago.

One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep.

Over 2000 college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be.

When you finish reading this, please send this peaceful word of advice to your friends and family, they'll really enjoy it!

These words have been passed along in loving memory of ROSE.


REMEMBER, GROWING OLDER IS MANDATORY. GROWING UP IS OPTIONAL. We make a Living by what we get. We make a Life by what we give.

God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it.

'Good friends are like stars..... .....You don't always see them, but you know they are always there.'

JUST  LOOK AT THE PICTURE A GOOD WHILE, AND THEN READ THE  REST.  IT WILL TOUCH  YOU.

I  was privileged to take a photo of  'Five Generations of Women 'Grandma's  Hands
 

GRANDMA'S  HANDS A must read thru to the end  please!!!!!!!!!!!!! 
 

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench.. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. 
 

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK. 
 

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear voice strong... 

'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her. 

'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?' 

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making. 

Grandma smiled and related this story: 
 

'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years.  These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.. 
 

'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor..
 

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer.  They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.
 

'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.  They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special 

They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when  I buried both my parents and spouse. 

'They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. 

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. 
 

'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. 
 

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.' 

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God... 

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

"Why We Shout In Anger"

"Why We Shout In Anger"

A Hindu saint who was visiting river Ganges to take bath... found a group of family members on the banks, shouting in anger at each other. He turned to his disciples smiled 'n asked.

'Why do people shout in anger shout at each other?'

Disciples thought for a while, one of them said, 'Because we lose our calm, we shout.'

'But, why should you shout when the other person is just next to you? You can as well tell him what you have to say in a soft manner.' asked the saint

Disciples gave some other answers but none satisfied the other disciples.
Finally the saint explained, .

'When two people are angry at each other, their hearts distance a lot. To cover that distance they must shout to be able to hear each other. The angrier they are, the stronger they will have to shout to hear each other to cover that great distance.

What happens when two people fall in love? They don't shout at each other but talk softly, Because their hearts are very close. The distance between them is either nonexistent or very small...'

The saint continued, 'When they love each other even more, what happens? They do not speak, only whisper 'n they get even closer to each other in their love. Finally they even need not whisper, they only look at each other 'n that's all. That is how close two people are when they love each other.'

He looked at his disciples 'n said.

'So when you argue do not let your hearts get distant, Do not say words that distance each other more, Or else there will come a day when the distance is so great that you will not find the path to return.'

The Water Bearer

A water bearer in China had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other pot was perfect and always Delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walk from the stream to the House, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, Perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was Ashamed of its own imperfection. And miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes Water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my Flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw. So I Planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house?

Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape. Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life.

Very Touching Stories

God's Wife

LOOK OUT FOR THE LAST STORY....
IT WILL KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once Talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the Contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was:

A four-year-old child, whose next door neighbour was an elderly gentleman, who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old Gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbour, the little boy just said, 'Nothing, I just Helped him cry.'


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Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a family. One little boy in the picture had a different hair colour than the other members. One of her students suggested that he was adopted.

A little girl said, 'I know all about Adoption, I was adopted..'

'What does it mean to be adopted?', asked another child.

'It means', said the girl, 'that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy!'


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On my way home one day, I stopped to watch a Little League base ball game that was being played in a park near my home. As I sat down behind the bench on the first-base line, I asked one of the boys what the score was 'We're behind 14 to nothing,' he answered With a smile.

'Really,' I said. 'I have to say you don't look very discouraged.'

'Discouraged?', the boy asked with a Puzzled look on his face...

'Why should we be discouraged? We haven't Been up to bat yet.'

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Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in life, I stop and think about little Jamie Scott.

Jamie was trying out for a part in the school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen.

On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement.. 'Guess what, Mom,' he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a lesson to me....'I've been chosen to clap and cheer.'
(All politicians should learn from this story. -- A comment)

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An eye witness account from New York City , on a cold day in December, some years ago: A little boy, about 10-years-old, was standing before a shoe store on the roadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering With cold.

A lady approached the young boy and said, 'My, but you're in such deep thought staring in that window!'

'I was asking God to give me a pair of Shoes,'was the boy's reply.

The lady took him by the hand, went into the store, and asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her.

She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with the towel.

By this time, the clerk had returned with the socks... Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes..

She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him... She patted him on the head and said, 'No doubt, you will be more comfortable now.'

As she turned to go, the astonished kid caught her by the hand, and looking up into her face, with tears in his eyes, asked her.

'Are you God's wife?'

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Hope this put a smile on your face it.

Kamala's Corner: Ladies Finger (Vendaikai) Fry

Kamala's Corner: Ladies Finger (Vendaikai) Fry