We arrived at the airport a safe two hours early on the morning of our winter flight to the Big Island for a pre-Christmas vacation and were feeling quite smug about the whole thing until I heard my husband’s voice asking for my passport – His voice was muffled, distant and slow. Were my ears plugged? ”Your passport please? I will go check us in.” My passport? My passport? I absolutely do not have my passport with me – I replied, with that voice that borders on horror and sheepishness. You know the one. My first thought was “why didn’t you ask me for that at home? I knew it wasn’t his fault but he ALWAYS reminds me about the passports (the tickets, the money, the keys, the bills, the gift, the food, the addresses etc. before we leave home.) I’ve had problems in this area before.

I had been packed for days. I arose before my alarm on this particular morning and was ready ahead of the appointed time. I had packed everything I could possibly squeeze into my 7lb piece of luggage maxing it out at exactly 49.5lbs…. but no passport. NO PASSPORT. 6 ½ bathing suits, 5 pairs of flip flops, 3 sun hats, 2 pairs of sunglasses, 3 beach bags, every piece of jewelry I owned, 10 coverups (just in case), 60 SPF, 30 SPF, 15 SPF, SPF for faces only, after tan lotion, Aloe vera, sparkling tan lotion, 6 books, 9 magazines, every pair of shorts I owned (that fit) and all the sundresses and a partridge and a pear tree but no passport.

Our daughter had driven us to the airport and stood there on the departure sidewalk as dumbfounded as my husband. Mom…the master minder reminder and organizer – has arrived at the airport with no passport? Who are you and what have you done with my mother? I know they were both waiting for me to blurt out – Just kidding! But I didn’t because – well – I wasn’t.

My absolutely stoic husband made the split second decision to return home (when I say home I mean the other end of the world) to fetch my passport. What other choice did we have? Everyone on the North American continent knows you are not going anywhere without your passport. Now dash away, dash away, dash away all. With a little old driver so lively and quick I knew in a moment he’d accomplish this trick. More rapid than eagles he cruised down the freeway as I prayed he return leaving us needed leeway.

My daughter and I remained at the airport and kept a prayer vigil going. My major concern at this point was my husband’s safety as I know he can get a little crazy under this kind of stress. I was wracking my brain trying to figure out why this happened? What was the point? What was the lesson? How could I have done this? Maybe I did, indeed, have early onset Alzheimer’s.

Everyone knows you are supposed to be at the airport and checked in, at the absolute, 1 hour before departure? I regret to inform you, that didn’t happen. By the time Mike arrived back at the airport 65 minutes had passed and so had our window to board. Mike clawed his way through the irrate passengers involved in a Houston flight crisis in a valiant effort to get us on the flight but when the agent realized I was checking my 49.5lbs of luggage she shook her head – ‘No way this is happening”. At this point, I might mention that Mike had no baggage to check and was in possession of a viable boarding pass.

I’ve never seriously considered divorce (much). But the look on the top of Mike’s head (his face was parallel to the ground) told me all I needed to know. It was over. Not only wasn’t I going to Hawaii but this Christmas was going to be much colder than I had ever known. The wind chill was rising.

I sat on the railing as I watched all the travelers laughing and talking and checking in successfully (with passports) and sentiments of ‘Happy Holidays”…please? I turned my face upward, “Lord, you know my marriage is on the line here and I’ve grown pretty used to being married” How much does this man love me?….he could actually go on to Hawaii right now without me. He certainly could but he is walking back towards me resigned that because I can’t board neither will he. Thank you Lord. “ Don’t misunderstand… I can still see smoke rising out of his ears…but he IS sitting beside me, waiting for the Houston crowd to disperse so he can approach a different agent and see what can be worked out. If anything.

Off he goes and I find myself in prayer once again. My husband was pretty stoked about the great deal he got on the original tickets and the car rental (I might add). Will he fork over for additional tickets? And how much? Anyone that knows my husband besides admiring him for his resourcefulness, humor and compassion, knows that there is no one cheaper – I mean, more frugal – I mean more practical. Will I have to reimburse him for my holiday menopause dementia blunder? Maybe I could get my Health Benefits plan to cover it?

But Mike found a new agent and told him our tale, he was a much more accommodating male. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon led me to know I had nothing to dread. He spoke very few words but went straight to his work, and in moments we had new (free) boarding passes and smirks. And I heard him exclaim as we walked out of sight… Merry Christmas to all and to all a good flight.

The poem I wrote while we waited 7 hours in the airport for the next available flight.

”Twas 3 weeks before Christmas and all thru the airport not a creature was stirring except mike and Geri stewart.
They picked out their couches for sleeping with care, in hopes by tomorrow they soon would be there.
While visions of beaches and sand filled their heads, their major concern was to find better beds.
With my feet on the table and purse on my lap I’d just settled down for a pre-Kona nap.
When deep in my dreams my teeth started to chatter and I bolted upright wondering what was the matter.
When what to my wondering eyes did appear? I’d forgotten my passport and broke out in a fear.
Mike raced home to get it, sweat washing his brow, while I lingered behind wondering how? How? How?
With a little old driver so lively and quick I knew in a moment I was going to be sick.
More rapid than eagles to the house Michael came and I’m sure at that point he started calling me names,
Back to the airport he came in a blur, and the United agent looked at him and said ‘so sorry sir’
She was angry and grumpy, not a jolly old elf, and I cried when I heard her inspite of myself.
So mike found a new agent and told him our tale, he was a much more accommodating male.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head soon led me to know I had nothing to dread.
He spoke very few words but went straight to his work, and in moments we had new boarding passes and smirks.
And I heard him exclaim as we walked out of sight… merry Christmas to all and to all a good flight.

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS STEW.  IT’S ACTUALLY MORE LIKE SOUP BUT WHEN I TAKE IT FOR LUNCH I AM LOOKING FORWARD TO LUNCH ALL MORNING.  THE SPICES JUST MAKE IT SO TASTY. AND I FEEL GOOD AFTER I HAVE EATEN IT.  NOT ALL DRAGGY AND FULL AND LETHARGIC.  I FEEL LIKE I DID SOMETHING GOOD FOR MY BODY AND SOUL.

Nothing is more inviting that a warm bowl of stew on a chilly night.  In this dish a variety of herbs boosts the flavor and aroma as well as the nutritional value in every spoonful.

2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil

3 skinless bone-in chicken breasts (I always use boneless)

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

2 stalks celery, cut into one inch pieces

1 quart low-sodium vegetable stock of chicken stock

2 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces

2 medium turnips, peeled and cut into 1/2 inch pieces (I do not care for turnips so I just leave them out but you could replace with almost any other vegetable if you too do not care for turnips)

3 medium potatoes peeled and quartered (I usually put more potatoes in since I leave out the turnips)

1/2 Tsp fresh thyme

1/2 Tsp chopped fresh basil

1/2 Tsp fresh tarragon

Sea salt and black pepper

METHOD:

1. Heat olive oil in large pot over medium high heat.
2. Sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper on both sides.  Place chicken pieces, meat side down, in oil and cook for 2-3 minutes on each side.
3. Add the onions, celery, and stock.  Bring to a simmer, lower heat, cover, and simmer gently for about 45 minutes, until chicken is done.
4. Add the rest of the vegetables and the herbs.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat to a gently simmer for about 10 minutes or until the vegetables are almost fork tender.
5. Remove chicken pieces, cool slightly and pull meat from the bones.  Break meat into large pieces.  Return meat to pot and cook uncovered until vegetables are very tender about 15 minutes.  Season with salt and pepper.

 

 

 

 

I love to cook.  I love to bake.  I guess that would be because I love to eat.  I really do.  OK – there I’ve said it.  I love to eat.  So sue me.  So throw me in Weight Watchers jail.  So mock me and gasp at this reveal.  I’ve declared, in public, I like to eat.  I always have.  Im a food junky. And I’m pretty sure if you were being totally honest you love to eat too.  It can be our little secret.  Because I am aware that in our world,  loving to eat is considered a weakness, a fault, a faux pas , a character flaw, a loss of self control, something to be ashamed of.  But no matter,  I love food (most of it).

God created food when he created the earth and he created our bodies to need to food to survive.  He put vitamins and nutrients into natural foods that our body needs for health and to flourish.  Hear me please.  Eating and loving to eat is not shameful. It is, in fact, quite normal and expected.   But a lot of us have grown up in an environment where the concept that ‘food is bad’ haunts us –  in our sleep and every time we get on the scale or visit the gym with its many gawkers and judgers.  Hey…we are at the gym.  Give us points for effort at least.

Of course, if we were living in a nation where the people are starving this would not be an issue.  I guess there in lies the problem,  we have too much.  Food shaming and body shaming is a first world problem.,We create our own problems. I like to think of food and its abundance over here in North America as a blessing.  Food is essential and food is inherently good.  The reason we love food is because it is meeting at basic human need.  There is not one human being on this earth, in any culture, in any geographic location, in any demographic that doesn’t rely on food to stay alive.  That is why a person can starve to death in 46 – 73 days days without food.  Hello?

So lets enjoy food the way it was meant to be enjoyed.  In its natural state, in moderation.  Lets cook our food with our own hands and lets share our food.  Lets enjoy our food and lets savor our food.  Lets talk about food with relish because food is a blessing.  Lets sit around the table and share our lives over food.  The reason why the natural inclination to take food to those grieving and suffering loss or taking food to those dealing with economic constraints or even to a baby shower or a bridal shower, to serving food at a wedding…having food at the office Lunch and Learn is because food meets a basic need for all humans and if that need is taken care  and food is shared it sends out a message of compassion and caring and sharing and sustenance and people are far more amicable when they are not hangry.

I think of the manna that God sent down from heaven to the Israelites.  He knew they would die without food so He provided nourishment for them.  I’m sure that Dr. Bertstein or Dr. Atkins or Dr. Hymen or the Mayo Clinic would attest to manna being far too many carbs to be taking in on a daily basis but that is what God provided and what God provides is not only good, its the best. And what God provided us with, since the beginning of time, is pure natural food to sustain us and to energize us. Its OK to enjoy food.  Its something we have to do 3 times a day…or 6 times a day according to so called experts.  So why not enjoy it and share it and have fun with it.

Back to my love of cooking. Actually we were talking about my love of eating but I also love to cook. You don’t need to love to cook to love to eat.  But I just happen to enjoy  both, immensely.  For me, to spend a day in my kitchen cooking is my idea of recreation.  Especially in this segment of my journey, I am constantly testing new recipes because first of all, I want to cook my own food.  If I cook my own food then I know exactly whats in it and I can modify ingredients to make sure I am cooking, baking and serving the healthiest version of that food.  In fact, I need to retrain myself as most of my default recipes are full of unhealthy fat, gluten, refined sugar and we have used a lot of processed food in the past.  It was easy and convenient and as addictive as cocaine. Too often I have found myself at home alone, sitting by the fireplace after a long day at work and a long drive, with my music in the background and a family size bag of Miss Vicki’s potatoe chips- Just savoring every salty crunch, eating slow and deliberate because gloriously, I have no one to share with.  Free from shame unless my husband discovers the empty bag in the trash.  (He wouldn’t be upset that I ate chips, he would be upset that he didn’t get any).  Same with popcorn.  Hot buttery popcorn.    If feels so decadently comforting and blissful. But with age comes wisdom and maturity.  And now I want to eat food that heals my body and eliminate food that impairs it with poison.  This is  going to involve a retraining in the way I cook (and eat).  I have taken it upon myself to embark on this self education.  In fact I have dedicated this year to learning to cook again.  Learning to cook for health and nutrition but also to cook for community.

I have been collecting cookbooks for a couple of years now.  I go to the discount table in the dark recesses of the book store (OK Chapters) and find all sorts of great cook books for $5 and $10.  At this price they can be less expensive than a foody magazine filled with adds. Cookbooks that I lusted over when they were $35  – $40 have found their way to clearance and into my hands and now I have a great collection to work with.  I’m always scouring the bookstore for new cookbooks.  I love looking at food and I love reading the recipes and I love to hear the authors stories of food inspiration.  I think I have garnered my own views about food from these lovers of food.  I have found affinity with these famous cooks. I recently read a book called Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist and she tells of her addiction to cookbooks.  She reads them like novels.  She says if she’s had a bad day her husband will find her in bed reading a cookbook from cover to cover so I have started to do that.  It is so gratifying.  I still need something by the Barefoot Contessa and Nigella Lawson.  I will scour the discount section once again. I will do it this long weekend.

Most of my life I have eaten food for nourishment but more so because I love food and I have to admit that I can be, in my worst version of myself, an emotional eater.  Eating for the wrong reasons.  But in actuality we are all emotional eaters because sharing food for the right reasons and enjoying community around sustenance is still an emotional need. I mean whats better than sharing good comfort food with your girlfriends?  Turning on a great chic flick and sinking  your teeth into a gooey, stringy, cheesy, tomatoey delicious pizza and just savoring each bite in-between the laughter and the comraderie? Follow this up with fresh out of the oven chocolate chip cookies downed with sugary, flavorful latte rich with foam and toppings.  Is there anything more emotionally healing?  Of course you are in your pajamas and uggs.

And what is it about the smell of toast?  Even burnt toast – I am draw to it as if in a trance.  If I smell it I want it. When I smell it I am home again wherever I am. I think I’ll go make some right now!

Did I mention I love to entertain?  I do.  And I can’t think of one incidence of entertaining where food was not involved.   I thrive on cooking for others.  Heaven forbid – if I only cooked for myself I’d be a house.  I love to cook for others and more recently, I love to be able to tell them that what they are eating is made of all natural ingredients and is good for them.  That its good for their health.  Why would I want to serve poison to people I love. You know I love you if I invite you over for dinner.  That being said – if I don’t invite you its not because I don’t love you its because I only have so much time.   Confession:  sometimes I DO still make food that contains unhealthy fat, refined sugar and lots of sticky yummy gluten and that’s because I believe in – all things in moderation.  And sometimes something bad for you is just SO good.   Plus I believe that eaten once in a while its not bad for you, its when you have a constant diet of poisonous food where the harm is done.   Often I will just bake for the sake of baking and my family will say…whose going to eat that?  I tell them I’m taking it into work – it will be gone by 10:00 am. (When you work with a lot of single, young, ravenous male engineers…)

I truly believe in the practice of cooking your own food.  At least when you cook your own food – whether it be a pie, a birthday cake, lasagna, taco’s, pasta, pizza – you know what’s being put into it and you can make better choices as far as the ingredients go and serve food without additives and preservatives and chemicals that the FDA would never approve of in a prescription form.

A day in my kitchen involves turning on some smooth jazz or a crooner of choice and pouring myself a glass of perrier (or tonic water with quinine for my nightly leg cramps) or even a glass of wine if I am making risotto.  I always don my favorite red plaid apron (I have far too many white tops with permanent tomatoe stains on them to forget to wear an apron.  In fact that’s why I picked red.).  Over the past couple of years I have also outfitted my kitchen with all the ‘make cooking fun and easy’ gadgets I could avail myself of and more recently had my husband remodel our two tiered island into a flat surface providing me with oodles of space to roll-out pie and cookie dough and to unload groceries.  Not to mention its where everyone gathers and leans in to visit and snack when they are over.  They watch me cook and I feel part of everything.  Often they jump in and help.  Very often my daughter is home and we both pull out our Kitchen Aids (which we now have much more space for) and we start cooking.  My daughter makes the most exquisite, artist, delicious sugar cookies for her friends and family.   And I am still trying to fulfill my obligation of pies once a month for some silent auction winners .

If I am by myself, I will sing or pray and reflect and solve a lot of my problems (its kind of like a good walk for me).  This is my down time, my me time.  Even though, very often, at the end of the day – after being on my feet the entire day I am exhausted but its a good exhausted.  So I’ll relieve my tiredness with a lovely, hot bubble bath accompanied by candles and dim lighting and soft music and an ice cold beverage since it gets very hot in there. Very often rose petals are involved (which my daughter brings home from her job at the floral shop).

I’ve gotten into the habit, since I am trying to eat cleaner and purer for optimum health, to cook a week’s worth of meals in one day.  Typically I will cook two dinner entree’s and one breakfast option along with various containers of chopped up raw veggies for salad.  I also like to make something sweet in case I get that craving for sweetness.  I feel its better to eat something homemade sweet than something processed.  I have replaced cows milk with almond milk. I have replaced refined sugar with raw organic sugar.  I have replaced white eggs with organic brown Omega 3 eggs. I often crush up flaxseed for its health properties and its virtually undetectable.  I’ve started to play with gluten free flour and almond flower or ½ and ½ and many loaves and muffins taste great with fresh cranberries or blueberries in them.  I also feel whole wheat flour is superior so I will play with that.  I only ever use real butter in anything.  I have replaced vegetable oil with coconut oil in all my baking.  And the results have been delectable.  Yes I’ve tossed out several flops but that is to be expected.  I did say I was experimenting.

So the cooking is done and now I am just waiting for my guests.  The candles are lit, the wine is chilling (white), the table is set with the finest I can rustle up (who am I kidding?  I have a Homesense store in my basement). These guests might be my mom coming over for her ritual Sunday afternoons and dinners or it could be our home group coming over on Wednesday night.  It could be any assortment of other couples we are privileged to call friends coming for dinner or a game night or a party.  On rare occasions it’s my kids friends. It could be my son coming home for Christmas (I need to resist the urge to go out and buy him all the junk food he craves – but hey that’s what moms do.  I have to remind myself that this could likely be the only 2 weeks of the year that he isn’t eating processed food).   It could be my kids coming home from from anywhere.  I do have to remind myself that this is not a show,  this is down home hospitality.  We are gathering to connect, to share, to eat good food, to linger around the table and laugh and cry together – to celebrate life and we do it with life’s sustenance – good food made with love.

DANIEL PLAN – TURKEY BEAN CHILI

1 tablespoon Extra-virgin Olive Oil

1 cup finely chopped celery

1 cup fine chopped carrots

1/2 green bell pepper, finely chopped

1 cup finely chopped red onion

2 tablespoons tomato paste

3 large garlic cloves, minced

1 pound ground turkey

1 Tbsp mild chilli powder

1 Tsp cumin

2 Tsp dried oregano

1/2 Tsp sea salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1 (15 ounce) can diced tomatoes

1 (15 ounce) can red kidney beans, rinsed and drained

1 (15 ounce) can Cannellini or white Navy beans, rinsed and drained

1 cup low sodium chicken broth

METHOD:

1.) In a large pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat.  Add celery, carrot, bell pepper and onion.  Cook until soft, stirring occasionally.

2) Add tomato paste, and cook 2 minutes stirring continuously.  Add garlic and cook 1 more minute.

3) Add turkey to the pot.  Break up turkey with the back of a wooden spoon or spatula while it cooks.  Cook until turkey is no longer pink.  Add chili powder, cumin, oregano and salt and pepper.  Cook 2 minutes, allowing spices to release their flavors.  Stir once or twice.

4) Add the tomatoes, beans, and broth.  Cover and heat util chili is not and bubbly.

THIS IS THE ULTIMATE COMFORT FOOD.

How Shauna Niequist became successful by not trying to be

 

There is more than one way to waste a life. When we tell ourselves…I will really begin to live when I lose 20 pounds. Life would be even more fabulous if I lost 30 pounds. I would probably become famous because you can become famous for stuff like that these days. Life will begin when I have this much money in the bank. Or when I get that specific job. Or when I have kids or when my kids are grown and have reached a certain place in their lives and are not dependent on us anymore. (I’ve got news for ya kid, parenting never ends). I’ll started living when I don’t have to work anymore, I will really begin my life when I’m living in my dream home. (Ahem – to myself: This IS your dream home. You’re not upsizing at your age when all your peers are downsizing. That ship has sailed. Yes a ship would have been nice). I will start my real life when my spouse finally evolves into that person that reads my mind and never upsets me. When I’m living in paradise. When I’m living on easy street. When I’m the envy of all my friends. When I quit sinning and become perfect. When I can afford Valentino shoes and Louis Vuitton purses. When I can go to Europe every summer. When I have a cleaning lady. When I have no more worries. When I am the most kind, generous, humorous, intelligent, sophisticated, compassionate, wise person in any gathering. When I am invited to every gathering…and on and on the fantasy goes. When I finally get to Africa….
With that paradigm, I was in grave danger of life passing me by. Because the moments that I am breathing right now and all the moments I have breathed in the past…these ARE my life. My real life. My reality. And there is nothing wrong with this life I have been blessed with…btw.
But for some reason so much of my life has felt as if I was living in limbo. Waiting for circumstances to change (not that they were so heinous) and because of this limbo I wasted a lot of the good moments. Mostly because I didn’t recognize them as good moments – at least not until they were gone. I have been trying to teach myself the fine art of living ‘in the moment’. My theme song used to be “Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow. You’re only a day (or a month or a year) away. Or as Scarlett O’Hara is famous for saying…I don’t want to think about that today, I’ll think about that tomorrow. For tomorrow is another day.” I am endeavoring to teach myself not to put things off, not to procrastinate – Just do what needs to be done and live today.
I should be aware of every breath I take and if I can take that breath clear and free then I should bask in it. I finally realized, about 11 years ago that this IS my life. This ‘here and now’ and that ‘there and then’. So I began to live and feel every moment in time. This doesn’t mean I never think about or plan for the future but what it does mean is that I am grateful for this moment and what it is and what I am enjoying or what I am learning. I am grateful for my past and what it has blessed me with and what it has taught me. I’m even grateful for the hardship as it has brought about necessary change and increased faith.
Has my physical appearance ever hindered my enjoyment of the pink and azure sunrises? Only if I let it. Or prevented me from being soothed by the crashing waves on the shores of Kona? Has not being independently wealthy and having to work for living prevented me from feeling the notes in beautiful music or tasting the flavors in exquisite food? Has not being famous hindered my enjoyment of my gifts from God – my children (both as littles and as bigs)? I got to hear their cries and their giggles and their “I love you momma’s. And what about my husband? He chose me just the way I am and the life we have built together has been rich with love, cherishing, experiences, memories and joys. (And just for the record, I actually chose him, but he doesn’t know that so don’t tell him. It will be our little secret). We ARE rich in all the ways that are important. Even the painful and difficult is a vital part of our story. As C.S. Lewis said ‘The pain now is part of the joy then”. He was speaking about death and love but this also applies to our troubles. The pain He’s brought us through is part of the joy now. And visa versa. This IS my life and I’m living it right this moment. I am not waiting for this or that to happen before I begin to live. Even the waiting is part of the living.
I’ve seen the Eiffel Tower. I’ve wandered the gardens of the Palace of Versailles (the 8th wonder of the world in my opinion). I’ve had tea inside Buckingham Palace. I’ve cruised the Mediterranean and the French Riviera. I’ve eaten real Italian pizza and gelato on the boardwalk of Venice. I’ve walked the La Rambla’s of Barcelona. I’ve experienced the lights and excitement of Las Vegas. I’ve stayed in a Penthouse suite at the Four Seasons Hotel in California. (It was a comp room because I was working for them at the time – another lovely experience). I’ve snorkeled with the dolphins off the coast of Kona and swam with the manta rays. I’ve snorkeled in the blue waters of Cozumel amongst the sea turtles and tropical fish. I’ve been awe struck by New York at Christmas (my heart leapt for joy to be honest). I’ve walked the boardwalk in Auckland, New Zealand. Visited friends in Texas and Phoenix. We’ve been able to borrow our friends cottage to retreat from life’s storms and forge new memories with our children. I’ve felt pride at the graduations of both of my children from High school and one from University. I’ve enjoyed white Christmases in Banff, Lake Louise and at home with my family and extended family and friends. We’ve created memories on many family vacations driving through the mountains. We attended the funerals of three of our precious parents. We’ve suffered through chicken pox, asthma and emergency room injuries, hurt feelings and school stress with our children. I’ve been overwhelmed trying to run a business from home and putting my husband through university so he could train for a different career. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve been depressed. I’ve been selfish and I’ve been angry. I’ve felt all the emotions and I am far better off in retrospect.
So I am not waiting for something different before I start to enjoy today. There are a million little feelings to feel each day. A million choices to make in a life. A million lessons to be learned. A million opportunities to grow. A million blessings to enjoy. A million people’s lives to touch for the better. I don’t want to miss out on even one little experience that is part of God’s plan for me. Even if it’s difficult and painful – there is something there and it’s mine. It’s my life and I’m going to live it.

Call the Betty Ford Clinic. Or Dr. Phil or Oprah. My name is Geri and I’m addicted. My addiction is not drugs or alcohol; it’s something much more socially acceptable and possibly undetectable to the outside world. Something the world probably considers worthy of addiction. I’m just sorting out whether I am addicted to social media or whether I am addicted to the devise that perpetuates social media or both. When I am asleep at night (or not asleep because I am working out painful leg cramps) my iPhone is always within hands reach (I even bought a lovely aqua colored 5 foot rope cord so I could peruse Pinterest under the covers while lying in bed which I know you are absolutely not supposed to do). I am supposed to be sleeping but I am pinning. I can’t stop myself. Sometimes I look at my pins the next day and wonder ‘what was I thinking? I hate that”. That’s how I know this is addictive, when I am pinning in my sleep. I have read a million times (OK several) how that blue light inhibits true sleep. I also know about over stimulating your mind just before your appointed bedtime. However, I absolutely do not sleep with it touching my skin, arm, stomach, leg and I will definitely not put it under my pillow as I am terrified that the radiation or whatever will cause cancer or worse still, it will wipe my brain clean of any and all information. I could argue that keeping my iPhone on the nightstand is prudent. If I heard a burglar in the house I could call 911. No more cutting the phone lines like the criminals in the old days used to do. Not to mention there is a flashlight on my phone and a Police alarm and a camera so I could take a picture of the intruder just before they smother me with my pillow.
I don’t go anywhere without my phone – nowhere. I panic if I can’t find it or if I leave it at home. I am not sure if the panic is related to the financial implications or if is related to withdrawal. I have been unsuccessfully trying to determine what is a reasonable distance from home to make going back to get it not insane. Can I not go a day without a cellphone? Fifteen years ago I didn’t need it because it wasn’t available and somehow I managed to be able to make coffee dates with friends and be at appointments on time and make arrangements to pick kids up from school and get help for a flat tire and find out whatever I needed to know by other means. If I forgot my grocery list at home I just winged it. If I needed to talk to my husband I called him at work. Now I just text. I used to have dozens of phone numbers memorized which I am sure was great for keeping the brain sharp, but, even that has become irrelevant. As a result my brain has turned to jelly and I can’t remember anything. I walk into a room for something and cannot for the life of me remember what I came for and usually a trip back downstairs to the exact spot of the inception of the thought is required. Even then, sometimes I still can’t remember so I leave for work and as I am standing in the pouring rain, juggling my purse, my Starbucks, my tote bag with my extra shoes, reading for lunchbreak and lunch, I remember what I was looking for. My building pass. But it’s too late now.
I have a glamourous black and white checked, pink trimmed Kate Spade iPhone case that has a built in auxiliary battery in case, heaven forbid, my phone should run out of juice when I am far away from charging power. If I take a lot of pictures, and I usually do, it uses up even more power. My phone is the first thing I reach for in the morning (sorry honey) – because it is my alarm and I have to shut the snooze off every 15 minutes for an hour. This is my early rise breaking in method. I have to be up in absolutely no later than one hour from now so I need to start getting used to the idea. I am pretty sure this is not great for REM sleeping as I am just pretending to be asleep after that first alarm. Did anybody text me overnight? Did anyone put anything interesting on Facebook while I was sleeping? Did I miss out on anything? I am just clamoring for news…any news…I even fall for fake news. And most mornings I am disappointed because there is nothing new under the sun and there is no good news really. I can’t remember the last time I heard good news in the media. Most of the news flashes I see on Facebook, require a consult to SNOPES just to find out if it’s legit or not. Usually it’s not – that tells me something. I loved the one about the millions of spider eggs that were implanted into the original TY bean babies that my kids collect for years and we eventually sent to Samaritan’s purse for shoeboxes and how now, 20 years later, the eggs were hatching and spiders were pouring out of the beanie babies. Please!
In actuality, Facebook is pretty boring and I originally signed up for Facebook to keep in touch with my kids that were spattered across the globe (both of them) but now my daughter doesn’t even use Facebook (since us old foggies took over) Not to mention she is currently living at home. Snap chat’s the thing now. I can’t figure it out. That, and building an empire on Instagram, which I have to admit quite intrigues me. My son, who lives in another city, and has a hobby of movie going and always checks in on Facebook whenever he is at one so I am able to know that he is well and alive if he is checked into, yet, another movie. May I say, that is the ONLY way I know he is alive and well. These devices are phones BTW…something we tend to forget and we ARE paying through the nose for them so free long distance is a given. Had to get that off my chest.
On any typical day, my alarm goes off and I fumble for my phone and hit snooze. If it’s a day that I am going to the gym before work (at work) then I get up immediately and grab my phone and case and head to the bathroom. Yes folks, I take my phone to the bathroom with me. There isn’t that much time in the morning. A quick check of Facebook, Instagram, and my email and I usually get totally distracted. Then this voice in my spirit (not Siri) reminds me that my goal is to ‘seek first the Kingdom of God” and that talking to God should be my first order of the day so I look up the Jesus Calling app on my phone (a book written by Sarah Young that is written in the first person – God being the first person). Her whole focus is on spending more time with God and trusting him and staying close to him, each admonition accompanied by a related scripture. I don’t have time right then to pick up an actual book so this will have to do. This is another warning sign of addiction. Back when I actually had to pick up the Bible with a hardcover, a spine and tissue pages, then I just read the WORD…now with the Bible app on my phone it’s too easy to not actually make it to opening the app if I happen to see a little red number on any of the other icons.
My alarm goes off a few more times as I am getting ready for work and then just before I pull out of the garage I look one more time in case anyone else is up at this ungodly hour sending me texts or posting earth shattering news. Not that earth shattering news is appropriate to be posted on Social Media. That kind of new requires a phone call or a face-to-face meeting. But I really try not to look at my phone when I am driving so I drop it in my purse so that on the off chance that I get stopped for anything I would have to dig around for a few minutes to produce my phone thereby proving that I am not distracted driving.
Ha…just because my phone is buried at the bottom of my purse doesn’t mean I am not distracted driving. With the thoughts and problems and solutions and rehearsals that go on in my mind while I am driving – not to mention the singing and the drinking of Starbucks and the adjusting my clothes – I AM distracted. Don’t report me to the police but sometimes I arrive at my destination and I don’t know how I got there. Sometimes I arrive at the wrong destination and wonder why my car took me there. And if I have a girlfriend, daughter or mother as a passenger and I am talking with my free hand then I am most certainly distracted driving. Although I have read that people that sing when they are driving are better drivers than most. Just as I read that people that talk with their hands are highly creative and intelligent.
I did an experiment one month where I took myself off Facebook and Instagram and in all honesty I did not miss it. Once I knew it wasn’t going to be a part of my routine I just found other ways to inform and distract myself and other things to be obsessive about…. like Pinterest. Seriously though. I did not miss it. I removed the apps from my iPad and my iPhone and for whatever reason, I have never been able to get the Facebook app back on my iPad. That’s probably a good thing. Thank goodness I never got into tweeting. Just one more way to solidify the addiction. The whole concept of sending a ‘tweet’ sounds absolutely bizarre to me anyway. ‘Hey there, I’ll tweet you’. Did the whole tweet thing come from the old axiom “a little birdy told me”? If I tweeted at work would it be called twerking?
My iPad finds its nighttime home on the floor next to my bed as well. Too bad there isn’t an app for a weapon..…you know, for protection against that burglar that’s in my house. Oh yeah, we have gun control in this country. Truth: There is far too much information and news – a lot of it inaccurate – available to us. We can barely process it correctly. And so we process it incorrectly. But there is life outside and above social media and iPhones and iPads. There are real people. Electronics and social media have their place and can be used for good when not used for evil. All of it is truly amazing when you really stop and think about it. I just have to work out a reasonable, doable plan to withdraw myself from the addiction. We can lose true connection with real people when we rely on electronic relationships. There was a movie out called SHE where the main character fell in love with his computer’s operating system. Literally fell in love with the voice and character of an operating system. I mean, do operating systems even have character?? I left the theatre thinking this was absolutely ridiculous but sad to say that’s what has come of our generation.
One of my favorite features of the iPhone is the ability to take pictures and save them and instantly use them on Social Media or print them out. It’s like magic and I am totally intrigued. Very much like flying for me. Once that huge chunk of metal is in the air I just can’t fathom how it stays up there. Of course if I read a book on aerodynamics I might understand it better but I like the idea of magic or God just lifting it off the ground with his huge strong hands and guiding it to its destination.
Not to mention the anger and frustration we exhibit when this tiny little device made of up of metal and chips and other magical stuff doesn’t do what we want it to, exactly when we want it to. It’s almost more amazing than an airplane, when you think of its sending millisecond signals to a satellite in outer space and those signals returning almost instantaneously.
In any case, I must give my head a vigorous shake. I should know better than to let this tiny, flat, 2 ½ by 5 inch piece of wire, metal, glass and electronics rule my life. I think it’s time to implement some rigid parameters. Guidelines that would allow me to use my technology for good and not evil.

And I haven’t told you the half of it. I didn’t tell you how I text my husband when he is upstairs in his man cave and I am downstairs in my studio to inform him that my computer is acting up or not. I didn’t tell you how I text my daughter from bed when I don’t want to get out from underneath the cozy covers to bring me a drink please. I didn’t tell you how Mike texted me, when he was teetering from the top rung of a very tall ladder about to fall to his demise, to come out to the garage and save him. Thankfully his phone was on his person in a pocket he could reach without upsetting the delicate balance of his predicament. So I guess that was a very good thing, this time.

Some Ideas to save myself from myself might be:
• If I wouldn’t say it to someone’s face then don’t say it on Social Media
• Being a Christ follower that is endeavoring to Seek first His Kingdom my phone should not be the first thing I look at in the morning. Charge it in the kitchen overnight and keep the Bible by my bed instead. (The Word is a weapon afterall). Get a real alarm clock.
• Limit my use of Pinterest, Facebook and Instagram. Limit my time spent on my devices. (Maybe this is what God meant in the Word when He said He would give us up to our own devices).
• Spend more time using my iPhone as a phone and inviting people for face-to-face coffee or dinner. Work on my real relationships.
• Don’t believe everything I see and hear and read on Social Media. If I want truth – go to the Word.
• Pursue live hobbies such as sewing, painting, cooking, music, exercise, writing and spend less time checking my phone.
• When at home do not use the Bible app. Pick up the actual book and read it and turn pages and highlight revelations and write in the margins and stop and pray to the real God.
• Do not take iPhone to bed – ever.