Keeping your eye on the ball

In baseball one of the most dreaded pitches is the 'changeup'. Unlike the fastball, it's not feared because of its speed but because of its deception. Stay with me, even if you're not a baseball fan. The dynamics of a fastball are very simple.  The ball is thrown as fast and hard as possible at the catcher's mitt. The idea, of course, is to make it too fast to hit. Simple

The change up, on the other hand differs in two areas; how the ball is delivered and how the batter perceives it. The ball is cradled further back in the hand, making its release slower while still maintaining the look of a fastball. According to various sources, the human eye cannot tell the ball is significantly slower until it’s too near the plate.

I know you’re starting to wonder where I’m going with this.

Now consider the game of life you’re playing every day you go out into the world. You get up in a great mood, full of energy, ready to knock one out of the park. You stand at the plate, ready to deal with the things life tosses you and nail everything it throws, inspiring everyone to do the same.  But there are other times you walk confidently to the plate, dead sure you’re going to make history and hit nothing but air. You swing but still strike out.  Everything gets by you and you walk away, head down, humiliated by your failure.

But this is where my analogy comes in.

What if you start looking at those pitches differently? Wayne Dyer said, “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  Not unlike the changeup, you have to see what’s coming at you for what it really is.  How many times do we think we’re going to fail before we even try? We tell ourselves we don’t have the talent, or intelligence or some other characteristic we deem necessary to succeed at a goal.

My brother, one of my favorite people because he's inspirational in that respect, can take a bad situation, put a completely different spin on it and have me laughing uncontrollably. Like Dyer, he’s always telling me “You just have to see things a little differently.”

Life is unpredictable. Things we don’t expect will come at us every day. They will challenge our resolve, our patience and our focus. But that doesn’t mean we have to strike out.  The most important thing is just to keep your eye on the ball.  Persistence, focus and unrelenting determination can help change the way we see what’s coming at us.

I’ve heard people say “watching baseball is like watching paint dry.” That also could be true for some of the mundane tasks we face every day.  But “when you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”  It’s where you stand in the batter’s box that determine what you hit and what you miss.  Stand closer to the catcher, and you’ll see a fastball coming. Stand near the pitcher and you’ll hit those off-speed pitches.  

It’s all about perspective. Alter how you see what’s being thrown at you, keep your eye on the ball and you’ll hit a grand slam.  Like my brother says, “You never know what’s possible until you look at things a little differently.”

Play ball!

She drives me crazy

I hate to admit it, but there are things I've done I'm not proud of.

Some, I still continue to do, even though I know they're wrong.  I don't know why I don't stop but sometimes it seems the more I try, the worse I get.  Sometimes, they're just annoying habits, like tearing at my fingernails or smoking, which I finally quit doing in 2008.  But others involve people.

I'm usually a very easygoing, down-to-earth woman.  Ok, I'm a little compulsive about things, overly emotional and quick-tempered, but for the most part, not much bothers me.  I consider myself a good judge of character and have a track record of near perfect accuracy when it comes to analyzing someone's intentions/ulterior motives. I'm also pretty tolerant of idiosyncrasies, having quite the collection of my own.  But for some reason, some people just make me crazy and turn me into someone I don't like very much.

There's a woman I see every day who absolutely drives me up the wall.  I don't know why, but she brings out the worst in me.  Her voice, mannerisms, habits and even her physical appearance annoy me to no end.  She's never done anything to deserve this exceptionally horrid treatment but I can't seem to help myself.  She's usually a great worker and when she puts her mind to accomplishing something, nothing can stop her.  She's not completely unattractive.  I've heard others tell her she's pretty, yet I cannot bring myself to look her in the eyes and not feel anger just seething inside me.  I can't explain  it.

She had a medical condition that caused significant weight gain and I know she's sensitive about it, but I insist on bringing it to everyone's attention and making her feel ugly. I know she's fixed it and now looks pretty good, but I have little patience with her and when I look at her body, I'm still repulsed by so much of what I see.

She’s not a bad person, most of the time she's very  kind.  Often times I've seen her put her own needs last so others' could have what they wanted.  I know she's experienced some outrageously difficult times throughout her life.  But who hasn't?  She doesn't seem to have much self-esteem.  I've noticed she goes through stages when she seems more assertive and sure of herself but they are always short-lived.  Her inconsistency drives me insane. "

One day I found myself unable to control my anger.  I stared her down and began to yell.

Pick a mood, woman!!  Stop whining and feeling sorry for yourself.  Stop bitching and moaning that you can't do this or that.  Get off your ass and just do it!"

She tried to explain that she really wanted to do just that, but she felt like she was struggling every day against an inner voice that fought every effort and told her she would never be good enough.

For anyone else, I would've tried to understand, but I couldn't understand her.  I would've forgiven a complete stranger for making mistakes, but I couldn't forgive her.As much as I like to help people, I couldn't help her.

She's no different than anyone else and has the same emotions, experiences and the right to make mistakes as everyone. But for some reason I always held her to a higher standard and expected more from her than others. I could forgive anyone's imperfections but hers. I wasn't proud of my actions.
 I wanted to like this woman, so I developed a plan.  I made a point every day to look her in the eyes and tell her she was a beautiful person.  I vowed to try and help her put all her mistakes in the past and reminded myself that mistakes are lessons in disguise that we all make.  They shape who we are and who we are to become.  Oh, it felt like a big lie at first, I'll be honest.  But as each day passed it got easier.  I'm think I'm actually starting to like her a little more.  My anger has subsided for the most part and I've started keeping a list of things she's done that I'm proud of.  Sometimes I even read it to her. I also started taking some medication that seems to help.

I've learned these issues don't have to be permanent.  For some of us they are more work than for others but it is possible to work through them.  I don't hate her like I used to and I can honestly say that now, when I see her looking back at me in the mirror I see, not mistakes, but potential.

I've still got a long way to go, but I really think we're going to be okay.


**Depression and anxiety affect hundreds of thousands every year. There is no magic pill or word you can say to someone who suffers from it. If you've never dealt with it in your life, you will never understand it. Period.
If you know someone who fights the monster, bring your torch and pitchfork, sit by their side and do whatever you can to help fight it off. Just listen, if that's all they need or drag their ass to therapy or some sort of group where they won't feel alone. Prepare for a fight. We get comfortable in our sadness and we almost feel safe there even though we'll tell you we aren't. We shut ourselves in a dark space where we have to speak to no one. It's easier, yet it's torture.
I've dealt with this for nearly 30 years. Therapy, medication, more therapy...nothing makes it go away but some things do quiet it a little. Telling me to "choose to be happy and look on the bright side" will accomplish nothing except to tell me you have no clue what this feels like.
When Robin Williams committed suicide, I took it very, very hard, but not for reasons you might think.
When you're depressed you tell yourself that "when this happens, it'll be better" or "When I have that, or succeed at this," I'll feel better.
Robin Williams had it all. He had the love of millions, money, fame, a loving family and STILL he couldn't fight the demons. To this day, it is so disheartening to know that someone who made others' so happy couldn't perform that miracle on himself. He had what all of us think we need to be happy, yet it still wasn't enough.
  All I can recommend if you know someone who's depressed, is to be there. Always. Even if you're just breathing on the other end of a phone, or sitting in a corner fighting monsters under the bed.
We need you. We need you desperately. You may not be able to stop us from doing whatever we feel we need to do, but we will love you for caring enough to notice us.

The Greatest Man I Ever Knew

I recently took an online class and was offered the chance to attend a webinar on collegiate and creative writing.  It was led by a wonderful, positive, full hearted, amazing woman named Lucretia whom I immediately adored. She was discussing the power of words and effects books could have on us. She asked if any of us had one with special meaning. Immediately I volunteered 'Love' by the late Leo F Buscaglia and told her it changed my life. He was a teacher at USC in the late 60's who had a student commit suicide.  This had a profound effect on him. He felt the educational system was teaching students without considering the human side of them and this led to the formation of a class and several books on the subject of 'love'.  While some of the other teachers made fun of his ambitions, it went on to become one of the most sought after non-credit classes. Everyone wanted to 'learn' whatever they could about love.  The book "LOVE" was based on conversations that took place in those weekly classes.

        I say it changed my life because until I read it, I'd been afraid of my own shadow.  I grew up an awkward kid, never feeling like I belonged anywhere because I was adopted. My parents were amazing and I thank the Universe for them daily, but  still always felt out of place.  There was also the issue of my dad who never grew up hearing the words "I love you" from his mom, so he never really learned to say it to us.  I knew he did, but he couldn't say it.

  My friend, Mark Shireman gave me the book (another animated Italian friend, no less-a fact you'll appreciate if you read the book), and it gave me the courage to start telling my dad that I loved him.  I was in my early 20's at this point.  Initially, he just looked at me, then after awhile he would mumble it back.  It was as if it pained him to say it.   Once my mother called me, at my dad's request, so she said.  "You're father wants me to ask you to stop saying I love you.  It makes him uncomfortable and he feels you should KNOW he loves you by his actions."

   At that time, Reba McIntyre had a song out called "The greatest man I never knew". I don't know if you're familiar with it, but its about a wonderful father, who never told his daughter he loved her. The last section of the song says: 

The greatest words I never heard

I guess I'll never hear

The man I thought would never die

S'been dead almost a year

He was good at business

But there was business left to do

He never said he loved me

Guess he thought I knew

I couldn't get those word out of my head, so my response to his request was "Tell him I said, no. I will not stop saying it because when he's gone someday, I don't want it to be the one thing I didn't get to hear him say."  There was a long silence before she simply said, "Okay".   I kept my word.  I said it repeatedly, whenever we spoke and one day, he called me.  His big, booming voice was unmistakable, yet the message he left on my machine was "Vicky, this is your father. I just called to see how you are. Call me back when you get this. I love you."

I'm pretty sure I cried. He never stopped saying it after that.  Every message he left me, when every visit was over, he hugged me and told me he loved me.

  My dad died in 2005. Not a day goes by during the last 11 years, that I don't miss those messages.  I like to think wherever we go when we die, my dad met Leo Buscaglia and thanked him. Dad always willingly gave me his love, but Leo helped me hear it, too. 

Happy Father's Day, Dad. I miss you every day.

ONE SHOT

Where would I be if I were totally free
What would I do, who would I be
If no one I knew needed anything from me?
I could run from it all,
Hide from the pain, flee from the hurt that drives me insane.
I could silence the voices I hear in my head; the whispers that tell me I’m better off dead.
I would no longer have to battle the fear
that I’m a failure at life and
I shouldn’t be here.

I wouldn’t look back at the mistakes I have made,
eternal regret and shame that won’t fade.
I could stop being angry that I need to stay here
because my decision to end it, would scar those I hold dear.
No past would haunt me, no future to see,
One shot, it’s over and there’s no more me.

Some shake their head, say it’s a selfish way out,
but they don’t understand what the sadness is about.
It’s not about them, it’s not about life.
It’s not about ‘having’ or doing what’s right.
Success doesn’t change it, you can’t ‘shake it free’,
You look in the mirror and don’t like who you see.

Positive thoughts won’t change how you feel,
The pain is still there and the struggle is real.
Like clouds in the sky, fear follows you around
Just lurking and waiting to kick when you're down.

I’m blessed, yes, I know this. I have more than most.
But none of that matters when you’re fighting a ghost.
It’s a spirit, of sorts, that dwells in your brain and darkens your thoughts again and again.
Nothing to live for,
No way to be free,
Just one shot, it’s over and there’s no more me.

But today I rise up and fight one more time.
The sorrow I feel, it is real. It is mine.
Maybe today, I can get what I’m due
And find something good to carry me through.
One sliver of hope is all that I need
to help me hang on, to plant a small seed.
They say just an acorn can grow a great tree.
If not, then it’s over and there will be no more me.