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The Worry Box

So, I found this app which has meditations that you can download. I have only tried two, one listen each, because I give up easily.

The second one I listened to was called “The Worry Box” by Monica A. Frank. It was all about visualizing a box to put your worries in. Your box could look like whatever you wanted. It should have a lock to keep the worries from escaping. She sl-ow-ly talked about how you would layer things in your box. She talked about different kinds of worries and what ones should go on the bottom and what ones should go on the top. I can’t remember the terminology, but it seemed like one of them were like “unreasonable worries” which were supposed to differ from worries you could action.

Um, if I knew the difference, I wouldn’t be downloading mental health apps, lady.

So, bear in mind, I was listening to this audio as I picked up dog poop in my back yard (luckily, from my own dog). And my mind was like, “Squirrel!

“I should go to Hobby Lobby (I recognize that they aren’t always the most politically correct store, but they have the best craft supplies in town). I could pick out a wooden box. I could paint it up fancy. I could find a tiny little lock to put on it. I could put the key on my keychain as a reminder that the worries are locked way and I am safe from them during the day. I should go now—

“But it is Sunday, and they are closed 😦 ”

After that I zoned out and quit listening to the audio and kept envisioning the awesome box I would make. I liked the idea so much that I started writing down my worries on little slips of paper and trapping them in a box that night. I just had to use a cigar box for a substitute until I could get something better.

I had to work the first part of Monday, and I had promised my mother that I would take her shopping after that. So, I made it to Hobby Lobby and got my things picked out and was waiting in line at closing time.

It almost looks like an old radio in this picture.

It almost looks like an old radio in this picture.

The box I liked did not have a way to put a lock on it and they didn’t sell them there anyway. But the closure fits pretty snugly, so I think those evil suckers will have a problem if they try to pop out of there. My son, the soon-to-be kindergartner, was of course asking me questions. He was so intrigued by the idea (as much as a five year old can be) that he picked out his own box to decorate. He picked out some scrapbooking letters and told me he wanted to use them to put the words “not today” on his box. I thought it was an excellent idea! Of course, he changed his mind by the time he got home, but I liked the idea so much that I used it for myself. I thought it was a very deep observation for a child. Or maybe it is just because it was my child.

Cares, cares away. Never to return.

Cares, cares away. Never to return.

I wanted to paint the box so that just by looking at it, you would not be able to tell that it was made of wood. I mostly succeeded, except I need  to buy some new paint before I can do the bottom. (I wondered why my craft paint was clumpy—some dates back to 1999!) I painted the inside black, to keep those worries calm and quiet. The top & front I painted black and brown, with some gold & silver accents. I made up my own saying for the lid, then translated it into Latin using the Google translator, because the words in Latin just seemed like they would hold more power, sort of reminding me of spells like in the 90s movie The Craft. And if you are a Latin scholar and it doesn’t make sense, don’t write to me. I didn’t use Google for a permanent tattoo, only for a wooden box I keep in my bedroom closet that no one else but me will see. The sides I painted with a mix of brown with red, blue, and purple, respectively, because I could not resist adding some color.

My son's box. He doesn't put his worries in it. He just wanted to paint it.

My son’s box. He doesn’t put his worries in it. He just wanted to paint it.

I am hoping the worry box and the love bubble will be a winning combination. If nothing else, I got to enjoy arts & crafts with my son. Soon he will be all crabby from being at school all day and not interested.

Oh, I almost forgot to show you these cool earrings I made. Sorry, I don’t have a picture where they are not attached to my head.

So retro!

So retro!

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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The Love Bubble

I think I had an epiphany Thursday morning on my way to work.

LOVE BUBBLE-Soap

Now, for awhile I have tried positive thinking, which is a continuous struggle with every thought that runs through my head, usually resulting in a weekend breakdown from all the tension that feels like it has built up within my brain and heart and body. Usually, I just give up and return to my default hopelessness, because it is comfortable like a worn pair of jeans, but uncomfortable in that way that your worn jeans are too worn and have a hole in the butt that gives you a draft and make you feel like you are on display for the world.

You know, like that.

Books and apps just haven’t seem to have been working for me. But this morning I came up with a visualization.

Not like a beach sunset or cool woods kind of visualization.

I am so tired of feeling like everyone is constantly judging me. I worry what my coworkers think, my neighbors, other drivers. I worry if I am hurting their feelings or making them mad or just generally repulsing them with my ugliosity. I wished with all my might that I had a way to block that (perceived) judgement out.

So, I came up with the love bubble.

I know, it sounds like some kind of sex toy.

It is a pulsating lavender/pink transparent bubble I imagine around my body. (If it was not transparent, then I would constantly be bumping into things, more than I already do now.) It has a selective membrane to block out all the things I would normally worry about. If they can’t get into my bubble, then I am not required to think about them! But I didn’t want to be closed off from the world, so I decided that love could reach me, and my love can reach people, animals, things on the outside, if they need it and are receptive. I have only been using this for like two hours as I am writing this, but so far I kind of like it. I have trouble remembering words and mantras. A picture sticks with me longer. I must be a visual person. And after all, a picture is worth a thousand words.

So, here is my crude illustration:

Here I am, inside my bubble!

Here I am, inside my bubble!

I picture my love bubble being similar to Bella’s shield from Breaking Dawn-Part 2, but it is resides about the same distance away from me as my personal space. It is really the same emotional concept my green-haired friend came up with many years ago, except hers involved a hoodie. On days she didn’t feel like talking to people, she would wear a hooded sweatshirt, putting up the hood and wrapping her arms around herself, to protect herself from the outside world, just like a cocoon would.

Just because we grow up and have jobs doesn’t mean we actually want to crawl out of our blanket forts or leave our security blankets at home and interact with other humans.

Go ahead, try the bubble. But you can’t share mine; get your own.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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Smart Phones? Should Call’ em Anxiety Phones

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Smart phones are like the absolute worst thing for people suffering from abnormally high levels of anxiety.

Landline phones were immune from such worries. When your phone connected to the wall by a cord, your only concern was whether someone would pick up on the other end and if you actually wanted them to.

That was a ROTARY phone I was talking on. Just try to explain THAT to your children nowadays...

That was a ROTARY phone I was talking on. Just try to explain THAT to your children nowadays…

Then came cordless phones. You could take the receiver into the bathroom with you. But that introduced the phenomenon of dying or dead batteries and the hassle of recharging.

People were not satisfied with only talking cordlessly within their own home. Oh, no. They needed to be able to talk that way EVERYWHERE.

My first cell phone was a Tracfone prepaid. I had to remember to buy a card for my minutes. I had to remember to charge it. I had to remember to put in the ROAMING CODE. I had to remember that I had it, because, well, I really didn’t use it that often. I had to worry about misplacing my phone and losing my charging cord.

As phones got wiser, then I was always running out of text messages (I used to purchase them in 200 message blocks-ha).

Then phones got smart. Except I am always a few steps behind the current technology. I not only have to worry now about keeping the battery charged, I have to worry having software up-to-date enough to access Cozi, Facebook, and my email. I have to manage my high speed internet usage lest I get decelerated. I have to fret about whether ABC will air the season finales I must see before my free Hulu trial expires. I have to consider whether I am on Wifi or 4G LTE depending on what tasks I want to perform.

And buying a new phone! You have to get your screen anti-scratch coated, a new snazzy case, transferring apps from one phone to another, finding a micro-SD card with always more gigs and one that is not corrupted.

My husband and I both have killed phones by subjecting them to too much moisture. But I may have thwarted that issue this time. My phone is reasonably water-resistant & it has a water-resistant case on it. Water-resistant X 2 = Waterproof, right???

Sometimes I am more concerned about if my phone has an adequate charge than if my son has had dinner yet. And don’t get me started on if my GPS setting has changed itself to battery-draining “high accuracy” again on its own without my permission.

But there is always the young boy. I worry he will drop it, change my wallpaper, erase my apps (all things, by the way, he has done in the past). Or worse, he might put it into one of his flour-heavy “experiments.” Just as long as the experiment doesn’t involve “will it float in the toilet”, I guess worse things could happen to it…

..Like blowing away in a tornado, falling into a live volcano, being eaten by a flying shark. Ahhhhh! It is just too much to bear. Maybe I should go back to a cord in the wall. Then I wouldn’t have to feel like I needed to look at my phone all the time to check for missed calls or text messages.

But I won’t do that.

Ill Communication-Official

Even though sometimes cell phones frustrate me to no end and make me just want to smash it (my husband has done that, by the way), I won’t give it up. Because they are just so fun to play with and waste time. And the only game I have on mine is alienSwarm, a sort of imitation Galaga.

Follow the romantic entanglements of The Riley Sisters in my books:
Be Careful What You Wish ForAVAILABLE NOW!
When You Least Expect It THE CONTINUING ROMANCE!
The Wind Could Blow a BugWHERE IT ALL BEGAN!

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