 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺, 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵...
And so my letter went on. Every other Sunday evening, I gather with a group of women to explore our lives and emotional landscape through books. Right now, we are reading The Gift by Edith Eger, a survivor of Auschwitz, turned psychotherapist.
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 I could see the moisture in her eyes.
She wasn't crying, but I could see that I had touched a soft spot. I was uncomfortable, and perhaps a bit (or maybe a lot) defensive. But I couldn't take it back, I could only move forward. What was this all about, you ask? My daughter hadn't invited her daughter to her birthday party (even though the invitation did flow the other way last June). On Saturday, my daughter turned 9, and on Sunday we celebrated her birthday at a climbing structure with 6 of her friends, her brother, and one of her brother's friends.  Over the holiday break, I had the privilege of going to the Caribbean for 10 days, where each morning we were served brunch like this one.
As you can see, the brunch was served on a large lazy susan, with 20 seats around the table. Each morning would be punctuated by laughs and "Hold On!" as we all tried to serve ourselves. You had to be both quick and patient in the process. Quick to grab things as they went by, and patient to have things return to you. Sometimes you were left holding a serving spoon, while the bowl it came from made its way around in a circle.  You have an RAS.
I have an RAS. Everyone has an RAS. Do you know what an RAS is? It stands for Reticular Activating System, and it's a neural network in our brain located in our brain stem. It's job is focused on motivation, behavioral awareness, and overall consciousness. It sorts information to determine what's important and what's not.  Click Earlier this week, I engaged in a 2022 business review process within my mastermind.
We reflected on the following:
 Three weeks ago, my 97-year-old grandmother-in-law was rushing to get ready for breakfast, and she fell and broke her hip.
Two days ago, we celebrated her 97 years, and 4 months of life, with stories, images, tears, and laughter. She fell down many times in her life, but this last one she didn't get up from.  "Theresa, my compliments on the correct spelling of the name of my home country! Very culturally aware of you!"
Can you guess the country? Just 6 letters long. BRASIL Yet, just typing it now, a red-line appears underneath to say that I spelled it incorrectly. As the #worldcup2022 continues to make its mark on many people and in many homes across the world, I have seen countless examples of how the Japanese players and fans have shown their respect for their environment, for the tournament as a whole, and beyond.
How have they shown this respect? By leaving their space as clean, if not cleaner, than when they entered. The text came in around 8:00pm on Wednesday night.
It's the same text that I get every other week. A question that my husband NEVER gets. Can you guess who it's from? Our cleaning person. Despite the fact that my husband was the one who found her in the first place, now that she has my number, she has stopped communication with him, and now texts me with questions or to confirm she is coming. On Sunday night, we arrived home from a weekend away to discover that our hot water heater wasn't working properly, and since we have radiant heat, that means, not just no hot water, but no heat either.
I saw it as an adventure to be embraced. It would be like during my childhood, when we used to go to a cabin on a lake, with no heat. We all slept in the one room with the fireplace, and would cut a hole in the ice-covered lake to get water to flush the toilet. |
Hi there!I am Theresa Destrebecq (I dare you to try to pronounce it...) |
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