I'm standing in the washroom, and I don't need to pee

I was half way out the door this morning when I realized I had no money. I walked the 15 meters to my bedroom (where the money can be found on top of RW's dresser), but ended up turning left instead of right and found myself in the washroom.

I looked around. I was pretty sure I had taken a shower, brushed my teeth, and put on deodorant. I knew I didn't have to pee. So why was I there? Fortunately, after a few seconds of pondering, I remembered the money thing. I exited the washroom, and soon was on my  way.

I am choosing to reframe this as multi-tasking gone awry--the kind of thing that happens when a busy person with a busy mind tries to walk while thinking. I used to be able to do that, but now, not so much. It could have been worse, I suppose, I could have stood by the dresser wondering how to pee on the money clip.

Unfortunately, I have to work

When I awoke at 3:30 this morning, I immediately realized that my life is not worth living--well, not for the next three days. It's a work thing.

Life would be so much better if someone would just send me a big fat envelope stuffed with money on a regular basis. I would be grateful, very grateful. And I would use it wisely (well mostly). I would pay my mortgage, buy healthy food (well mostly), and work for world peace. I would only buy one expensive handbag a year. I would not fritter away the hours watching food porn on foodtv or decorating porn on HGTV. Well, except for mebbe Top Chef and that new Mike Holmes show.

If the first envelope of money could be delivered to my door in the next 60 minutes, I would do the whole world peace thing today. Really.

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so. (Shakespeare in Hamlet)

A few days ago, I was struck by a paragraph in a blog post by Liz Spikol. It was  written by Jim Gutstein.

"You’ve lived through several successive Eras: Psychosocial Rehabilitation, Evidence Based Practices, Transformation, Recovery and now Recovery and Wellness but the only thing that actually changed was your medication. You’ve been referred to as a patient, a recipient, a client, a consumer, a prosumer, a self advocate and now a person with but everything is the same at the hospitals, the sheltered workshops, the partial hospitalization programs and the very day program you now attend. You are now told pursuant to the Recovery model that you are suddenly empowered but what evidences your empowerment? What is it in your life that is now different? When did you last hold a meaningful job, live in decent housing, go on a date, attend to a party which wasn’t held at 3 pm or have friends over to your place? Has your health improved? Has your circle of friends and acquaintances changed? Has your income increased to provide for more options? What activities do you now engage in which you wouldn’t have before you were empowered?"

Then, this morning, I watched a TED video on You Tube by Dan Gilbert: "Why are we happy? Why aren't we happy?" While watching it, I had one of those odd ah ha moments: odd in the sense that I wasn't really learning anything entirely new, but I was putting it together in a way that was new to me.

From my perspective, Gutstein was challenging us to demand more for ourselves and from the mental health system because he does not believe that what so many of us settle for is nearly enough.  And for those of us who (also) work in mental health, the challenge is to double down to create a system where this simply doesn't happen anymore.

Gilbert seems to give us one possible reason why we do this. Look at the video and see what you think.

Send me a mac book and I may change my mind

Disclaimer: I have not purchased an Apple Product since 1983 when I bought an Apple IIe.

I have been watching the iPad circus as if its success or failure mattered to me. It doesn't. I'm not in a position financially to buy a new digi-toy and my lifestyle doesn't seem like its a particularly good fit with it. I am not a gamer and I live and work with real-deal computers never more than a room away from me. I drive the 12 minutes it takes me to go from one of these places to the other--so I have no boring transit journeys. I also have a very nice netbook and a smartphone.

But this is not about my dislike of Apple products, in general, or about the iPad, in particular. It may be about my propensity to care about stuff so distant from me as to be entirely meaningless, but by the time this post is completed, it may turn out to be about something else. I never know until it's over.

Yesterday I spent an embarrassing amount of time watching an old Top Chef marathon. Old as in Season 3 (2007). I fell in and out of like with contestants; I booed and hissed. I manipulated RW's sweet nature to be able to watch the finale in bed, in lieu of the repeat of Law and Order that is our usual bedtime fare.

In real life, I am the antithesis of a busybody. I often stand back and observe the lives of people connected to me, but I ask no probing questions and, these days at least, it's unlikely that I will intrude into someone's life unless explicitly invited to do so.

I often find myself repeating, under my breath, "I have no horse in this race."

Sometimes it seems like I might, indeed, have that horse. I truly care about the progression of my son's romance, but I don't ask about it. RW has a financial thing going on that will impact both of us, but that he is not willing to talk about--yet.

I think some of this came about as the result of being raised in a family in which unrelenting over-involvement was a given. My family could have served as the inspiration for the concept of high expressed emotion.

From my perspective, it takes real effort, sustained over time, to become a player, not just an actor, in someone else's life. This effort should be coupled with a belief that one can make a positive difference in the outcome and the sure knowledge that the involvement would be both welcome and ultimately useful. Lacking those essentials, it takes chutzpah and a sense of entitlement I can't seem to muster these days. Well, most of the time--though I have my moments.

It's so much easier to be invested in the outcome of a three year old TV series, or the launch of a digital piece of kit. It makes no difference to Steve Jobs if I join the throngs of Apple lovers, or not. The folks competing on TopChef have long since moved on without me. These things don't touch my life. They can't.

The other things do, but that does not mean that I should worm my way in, either. My son will work his way through his relationship without my involvement. When RW has news to share, he will do so. I believe that most people competently navigate through their lives without my whispered comments (or yelled instructions) from the sidelines.

Or mebbe I am just lazy. Or scared.