As I walked this morning, I focused on pushing my hips forward and outward with my glutes and my thighs. It results in even more steps over the same distance. I focus on the number of repetitions, steps, rather than the number of miles I cover. I make sure that I roll over the outer edge of both my feet. One way of making sure I use my feet properly is by placing one foot in front of the other. Anyone trying to follow my model if walking on a straight line like that is a reach, modify your efforts, so you aim to get a 'little' closer to this objective. If you're at 1, don't aim for 10; aim for one and a half. It is those small steps that are manageable.
I had an appointment with my life coach in Ohio. I have been working on loving people versus being annoyed or resentful. I think there are several reasons why this is a concern for me. For one, my father, schooled in Plato, believe the perfect human was possible. Ha! But I was left with that assignment. I gave it up many ways years ago, but the need to be always loving and accepting hasn't left me. There are two reasons for that: 1) the objective of perfection is still with me, but 2) more importantly, I love being a loving person. It feels so much better than being an angry or a hateful one. I asked Shelly if she thought I was too demanding on myself. She laughed. I guess so. I had a therapist in the past who 'accused' me of perfectionism. It didn't resonate with that at the time because I'm not the one who is the perfectionist. It is just a vestigial remain of my father's training. I gave it up years ago, quite happily, may I add.
To make the necessary changes, I have to apply what I have learned in my Buddhist meditation retreats. I have an aversion to any feelings that are not loving. Too bad. I remain human, and I will have to find a way to make my peace with these feelings. This does not mean having to give me a license to act out all over the way my mother did. In following the Buddhist tradition, I will have to sit with my hatred of my feelings of frustration and anger and discomfort with others. I had some of that with Mike, but after 45 years, those were mostly worn down. I found his foibles adorable. They made me smile. Now, this was not true for all his limitations, just most of them, and none made me choke up and stop breathing.
I got the quilt I washed several days ago off the line before it rained again. I found a spot where a patch is coming loose. I will fix that as soon as I can. Tonight maybe. I remember Mike and I got this quilt when we were visiting friends in the Poconos in Pennsylvania. I still think it is beautiful.
I also worked on figuring out how Judy's Hoover Floormate worked. Two problems: 1) the directions were long and complicated, and 2) they weren't the directions for this model. We'll see.
My first job was cleaning the dirt off it. It had been sitting doing nothing for at least three years. First, I cleaned off the surface dirt from the outside of the machine. My next task was cleaning the nozzle. I found dried-up matted dust. I turned the hose on that and got some of it out. I went after the rest with Q-tips.
Then I ran the vacuum cleaner over my kitchen floor, which had just been cleaned with the Bissell the day before. The water was filthy. I realized this was the dirt from the inside of the machine. I now think Judy and Paulette's disappointment with the vacuum resulted from not cleaning the floor sufficiently. I don't mean they were dirty. I mean that anyone who uses this machine after using traditional ways of washing floors has years and years and years of accumulated dirt. Conventional ways of cleaning floors do pick up some dirt, but a large portion of it just gets evenly distributed over the surface, so it looks less dirty.
When I saw how dirty the water was on the first washing of my kitchen floor, I ran it two more times until the water in the collection tank was clear with a few pieces of solid material floating around. When I knew the inside of the machine was clean, I washed other sections of the tile. The water came out clear or mildly cloudy, confirming my suspicion that the dirt from the first run was in the machine and not on my floor.
I bought the Bissell wet/dry because it does carpets as well. The Hoover is better for hard surfaces. The brushes are designed for different surfaces; there's a different one for hardwood, tile, and linoleum. Also, the collection tank is considerably bigger. The suction is good on the Hoover. Since on the Hoover, you can choose to have the brushes rotate (wet option) or not (dry option), I will experiment with using it on carpeting. I clean up Elsa-messes by pouring water on the offending spot and suctioning it up with the Rainbow furniture attachment. That works like a charm. In fact, I used the furniture attachment to do the overall carpet cleaning. It got tons of dirt up. Yes, it took more time. Why didn't I use the carpet attachment? Because it broke years ago. I took it to our local vacuum repair service twice to have it fixed. In each case, it worked once and then not again. I gave up.
I managed to read over the latest version of my introductory chapter before I went to watch tv. At least I did something on my book. I feel horrible when I do nothing. I have to say, "No dinner until you have done something." It's like dealing with a kid.
While watching TV, I started working on repairing the quilt. I found several other loose patches. Because the edges of the material have frayed, I have to use a blanket stitch to secure the fabric.
I learned the blanket stitch in a high school home economics class. In my junior year, I took driver's ed. It was only a half-year class. I needed another half-year class. I signed up for home-ec. Best thing I ever did. The lessons I learned there serve me still. I signed up for an entire year sewing class in my senior year due to the interest the half-year class generated. It was there I learned the blanket stitch. It was worth the whole year.
Mrs. Sears was the home-ec teacher. My mother went to the HS open house and met all my teachers. She came home and declared, "I don't care how long that woman has been married; she's still a virgin." My mother did not make comments like that easily. I had never heard her say anything like it before or, for that matter, after. Yes, Mrs. Sears was a piece of work.
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MUSINGS:
More on the Hidden Face of God. This book is amazing. It doesn't do much to offer definitive proof of God, but it does other things to me. He writes with clarity, making understandable concepts that I was exposed to before, making the information clear to me in a whole new way. The structure of the atom, the way the nerves work to transmit information, etc. These two stand out for me, particularly the latter. I audited several courses in neuroscience at Princeton University when I was living there. I had been exposed to the information on how the nerve cells worked. I got some of it, but I got so much more from reading the author's description of the process.
Every time I speak to Judy, I find myself thanking her for lending me this book. I'm learning how little we know about our world and ourselves and how we got here. The author says, "See, there is a God," which is either over my head or simply slips under my nose. The book leaves me in awe at how little we know and how amazing the creation process is. This knowledge has created space inside of me where it wasn't before. I don't mean space in just my mind; I mean space in my body. I think it is the effect of awe.
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