Have you ever thought that something was too good to be true? Was it too good? And was it true?
Why do we think that something can be too good to be true? Don’t we truly deserve good things to happen to us, as often as possible?
Here’s something true. I’ve never, ever had this thought:
That’s too bad to be true.
Why is that true, good people?
If something seems too good to be true, people often have distorted thoughts about it, including:
I don’t deserve this.
This is going to be taken away.
I better not talk about this.
Something terrible is going to happen.
Is that true for you, good readers?
Yesterday, I remarked that I was having a day that was too good to be true, because:
I found out that a good and true therapist is going to be hired by the hospital to work with me.
I saw reviews for my presentation at the hospital from a week ago that were so good that I wondered if they were true.
The temperature was a too-good-to-be-true-for-Boston-in-November 74 degrees.
My Thursday evening therapy group made me write “Ann is the best ever” on the white board. I wouldn’t believe that was true unless I had this good proof:
It’s true that a good member of the group last night also brought up AFOG (which stands for “Another Fucking Opportunity for Growth”). It’s too good to be true that I started this daily blog almost three years ago to help me write a book titled “AFOG.” If you don’t think that’s true, please read my good enough “About” page.
Have I truly written a book with the good title “AFOG”? No, because blogging every day since January 1, 2013 has been too good to be true for me.
Let’s see if I have any other photos from yesterday that are too good to be true.
I wonder if I can find some too-good-to-be-true music for this post.
It’s true that a good and superstitious person told me, yesterday, that I should throw salt over my left shoulder because of my too-good-to-be-true day. Here‘s too-good-to-be-true Stevie Wonder:
It’s too good to be true that my last photo matches that music, so well.
True thanks to all the good people who helped me write this post and to you — of course! — for being so true, to me.
Speaking of family compliments, I know a very effective exercise that helps families give compliments to each other. Here’s how it works:
The family gathers in a room, with a writing implement and some nice paper.
One member of the family leaves the room.
The rest of the family members come up with compliments about the person who is not there. (These must be authentic, unqualified and non-left-handed compliments.)
One of the family members writes down the compliments.
When the person who left the room returns, that person is given the list of compliments from the rest of the family.
Repeat Steps 2 through 5, for each family member.
I am going to pay a compliment to my old friend, Joe: I really appreciate him for telling me about this family exercise, decades ago.
Here’s a photo of some of the compliments I got from my family (including my sister Ellen, my late mother, my late father, and my ex-husband) when we did that family exercise:
It’s a compliment to my family members how I’ve saved and cherished that list for so many years.
Here are some more complimentary thoughts from me about compliments:
I’ve witnessed many people in group and individual therapy struggle to accept compliments that are sincerely given.
Receiving a compliment that does not fit your perception of yourself can feel painful at times.
I like to give people compliments, authentically and freely.
I believe that learning to accept compliments can be powerfully healing.
I wonder if I’ll get any compliments about these photos I took yesterday.
All my photos are taking forever to load in WordPress today. Since I have paid WordPress the compliment of buying additional storage space and I have paid my readers the compliment of spending hours in the service of helping my photos load more quickly, I hope this is temporary. Otherwise, I may have to pay some left-handed compliments to WordPress over this long weekend.
I shall now pay myself the compliment of sharing my first ever tweet with hashtags, which I created on Twitter while I was waiting for my photos to load here:
I love being in the moment, especially when that moment is a Friday night of a long weekend.
I shall now pay a compliment to my cat Oscar and my boyfriend Michael by including this photo from August, two years ago (which I hope pays us all the compliment of loading easily).
Feel free to include any right-handed or left-handed compliments in a comment, below.
Complimentary thanks to my family, to Michael/Mike the boyfriend, to Joe the friend, to Oscar the cat, to the Brothers Smothers, to WordPress, to Twitter, to people who do their best to give and receive compliments, and to you — of course! — for paying me the compliment of visiting here, today.
If you’re like me (and many other people I know), you might have some trouble accepting compliments and other types of positive feedback.
Here’s a 4-step process I invite you to try, starting today!
When the compliment comes your way, do your best to take it in.
Allow for the possibility that it is true, no matter what the source or the situation.
Let go of everything that gets in the way of believing it.
Say “thank you.”
Okay! Now, let’s practice.
Ready?
Listen to this song, believing that the words are meant for you.
If you can’t see or hear “You Are So Beautiful,” above, I invite you to practice with that song on YouTube (or elsewhere). Or, you can compliment this post by suggesting other ways of practicing, in a comment below.
Let’s see if I have any recent photos that might help us do better accepting compliments.
No matter what you think of those photos, here’s another chance for you to practice accepting compliments:
I value all your reactions to this post, very much.
Thanks and compliments to all who do their best accepting compliments and to you — of course! — for paying me the compliment of visiting here, today.
I’ve loved jazz since the first time I heard Count Basie play on a TV show, when I was very young. (I can’t find that appearance on YouTube, but I found some other Count Basie TV appearances from the 1960’s, here, here, and here.)
When I was in high school, I spent two summers studying jazz piano at Berklee School of Music (now Berklee College of Music).
Not to be judgmental, but I really wasn’t that great at playing jazz piano. Believe me, I’m not being falsely modest here. I’ve simply never had
the courage,
the technique,
the “chops” (as jazz players say)
the patience,
the stick-to-it-ness,
the talent, or
the natural ability
…. to improvise on any musical instrument. And improvisation is what makes jazz jazz.
In case you don’t know what improvisation is: in jazz, the musicians play a tune the way it was written and then they take turns improvising — making up new music within the established chord structure of that song.
So jazz is a wonderful balance of
structure and play,
dependence and independence,
teamwork and individuality.
I never get tired of witnessing great improvisers. I’ve included a lot of them in my blog posts. If you improvise a search through my posts, right now, I’m sure you’ll find some, easily enough.
Actually, I’m going to be kinder than that, right now. Rather than sending you off on a wild-goose chase through my posts looking for examples of good improvisers, I shall take this opportunity to post a jazz tune I love, with two of my favorite improvisers — Pat Metheny and Lyle Mays:
Many times before, in this blogging journey of mine, I have considered posting a YouTube link to “Daulton Lee” (written by Pat Metheny and Lyle Mays, from the soundtrack of movie The Falcon and the Snowman). I’ve often wondered — in the past year and a half — how I could improvise sharing with you that wonderful and (for me) mood-improving music, but it never seemed to fit any other topic, well enough. It’s not like I’ve written about Daultons or Lees or Falcons or Snowmen.
Snowmen. Hmmmm. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I’ve shown photos of snowmen here in the past 22 months (but who’s counting?) since I started blogging.
Oh, well. I guess I can’t be on top of EVERY opportunity to do things I’d like to do.
There’s no time like the present, however! Today, the topic is jazz and I can pretty much post whatever I want!
I’m actually going to return to the past, just for a moment, as I explain to you another reason why I haven’t posted “Daulton Lee” before. YouTube doesn’t have my favorite kind of jazz video for “Daulton Lee” — that is, a live version with good quality sound. But the studio version of “Daulton Lee” is good enough, right now.
And I’ve now posted “Daulton Lee!” Another item to remove from my Blogging To-Do List. That’s always a relief.
I will share this with you, though, at this point. I’m not sure “Daulton Lee” is such a great example of jazz improvisation, as I defined it earlier in this post.
Let’s see if there’s another favorite tune I love, that I know I haven’t shared with you before.
I know! I’ve never included, in any blog post, “Minuano” by the Pat Metheny group. Why? Same reason as with “Daulton Lee.” The title doesn’t naturally lend itself to any topic I might tackle here.
Wow! I’ve really gotten a lot off my plate here today, regarding my favorite music.
Don’t you think it’s about time I explain why I’m writing about jazz today, of all days?
I’m still thinking about my presentation, two days ago, when I spoke about the Koplow Method of group therapy to an audience of other therapists.
As my presentation was ending on Sunday, several people said some kind and complimentary things about the way I do groups, including this:
I love the way you create this clear structure which allows people the safety to play. It’s like … jazz.
Music to my ears! I will forever be grateful to that person for improvising, in the moment, one of the best compliments ever.
Telling you that story also lets me segue into this classic YouTube video that my 16-year-old son, Aaron, and I happened to watch last night.
Note: That appearance of the Muppets on The Ed Sullivan Show in the 1960’s is all about somebody really, really, really wanting to improvise, despite the judgment of others.
Now, how I shall improvise on my well-established blog structure, of showing you photos I’ve taken recently, usually near the end of the post?
Here are some photos I took yesterday, when I was improvising on a visual theme I had chosen for my walk away from work — “Green.”
Pretty jazzy, huh?
Gotta run to work, where I get to improvise, as best I can.
Thanks to Pat Metheny, Lyle Mays, Jim Henson, and all the other creative masters who helped me write this post today. And — in yet another variation on a theme I’ve included in almost every post I’ve ever written — thanks to all you jazzy people out there, for visiting here today!
you like these lyrics to Stevie Wonder‘s “You’ve Got it Bad Girl” (YouTube video found here), rewritten by me, on October 4, 2014.
When you believe your distortions,
And it’s holding you back from self-love,
Then you’ve got it bad, girl. You’ve got it bad, boy.
When you insist on excluding
All evidence that you’re worthwhile
Then you’ve got it bad, girl. You’ve got it bad, boy.
If you judge and disown an emotion,
And you shame, blame, and maim yourself
You will find your heart just sitting
Like a statue on a shelf, on a shelf, on a shelf.
Should you dismiss all your value,
And compliments that can be found,
Then you’ve got it bad, girl. You’ve got it bad, boy.
If you don’t see there’s a way out,
In loving yourself and RIGHT NOW,
Then you’ve got it bad, girl. You’ve got it bad, boy.
Do you know the posts I am writing,
Are intended to invite you
To practice new reactions,
To transform old things you do, old thoughts not true,
Hurting you, paining you.
You are not bad, girl. You are not bad, boy.
There’s no reward in detouring
My deep sincerity.
Especially since what you’re feeling,
Is perfectly clear to me. I can hear. I can see.
Before you discover the feeling,
And know that you don’t have to hide,
You’ve got it bad, girl. You’ve got it bad, boy.
But when you can find just a small space,
To let self love live in your mind,
Then you’ll have it good, girl. You’ll have it good, boy.
Thanks to Stevie Wonder and — of course! — to all the boys and girls reading this, today.
Yesterday, I spent several vivid hours with my long-time friend, Deb, who has appeared in some previous posts (here, here, and here) (which I hope were vivid ones).
I’m using the word “vivid” because:
Deb told me that somebody from our high school described her with that word.
She was surprised that somebody remembered her that way.
She IS vivid (for example, she is a glass blower AND she has dubbed herself a “Wild Woman of Welding”).
It’s a great word, isn’t it?
In yesterday’s post, I mentioned that photos can fit many themes.
I’m not worried about these photos — which I snapped yesterday at Deb’s home in Cambridge and in the South End of Boston — fitting today’s theme.
When I think of responding back to somebody’s comment on a post of mine, I can hear, in my head, the voice of Gilda Radner, playing news correspondent Roseanne Rosannadanna on Saturday Night Live in the 1970s.
Rosanne Rosannadanna would introduce her segment on “Weekend Update” like so:
“A Mr. Richard Feder, from Fort Lee, New Jersey, writes in and says…”
and then she would read the letter and answer it, digressing all the way.
For example, here’s the beginning of her answer to Mr. Feder’s letter about smoking cessation:
Here (Internet Access willing) is that entire routine, thanks to Yahoo:
Why do I hear Roseanne Rosannadanna in my head, when I think of responding back to somebody’s comment here? Perhaps, because
Gilda Radner was wonderful,
I watched Saturday Night Live, in the 1970s, every Saturday night, and
I join with her, in the joys of digressing.
Where was I?
Oh, yes!
A Sitting On My Own Sofa, from WordPress,1 writes in and says2 …
Will I ever be brave enough to wander into a room full of (my) doctors and snap their photos? I doubt it … but if I ever do gain the courage, I hope that I also gain that quality that you have that makes everyone adore you while you do it.
Now, just to warn my readers, I do not do celebrity impressions. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I do one.3 But that’s it.
Therefore, I will answer this comment, as me:
Sitting On My Own Sofa, thank you for writing this. While I respectfully submit that you are doing some mind reading and overgeneralization here, this comment has stuck to me, in a very helpful way. It has helped me see the positive in people’s responses to me. That has been pure gold, especially when I am projecting my own critical thoughts and fears onto them.
See! That doesn’t sound like Rosesanne Rosannadanna, at all! I’m wondering, right now: What about my readers who were expecting more from this post, regarding Gilda Radner or any of her wonderful characters?
It just goes to show you … it’s always something!
Thanks to Wikipedia for the link and the image, to Gilda Radner, to Roseanne Rosannadanna, to Mr. Richard Feder (and anybody else from New Jersey), to Sitting On My Own Sofa, and to you — of course! — for making an appearance, today.
_________________________
1 Which includes Fort Lee, New Jersey, among other places.
(Note: I’ve linked everything on that list to a past post. Because I had so many choices and so little time, I may have made some mistakes. However, see #6, above.)
Obviously, that’s a partial list. However, I need to stop the list. (Setting limits won’t kill me either, apparently.)
Now, you might argue that some of the things on that list MIGHT kill me. Just to quell those disagreements (although disagreements are another thing that won’t kill me), let me change the title of the list to this:
Things That Won’t Kill Me, Today
Does anybody still want to argue?
Before I end this post, I would like to add one more thing to that list:
Compliments.
Why am I adding that to the list, now? Because I have new and exciting proof of the non-deadly-ness of compliments; namely, all the positive feedback I’ve been getting here.
Also, by adding “compliments,” I can introduce some photos I took yesterday, on my walk after work, past a construction site I pass all the time.
As I took those photos, I thought, “These words apply to a lot of people I know.”
Anybody want to own those for themselves, now?
After all, it won’t kill you.
Thanks to everybody who is still surviving (despite all the things that could kill us), including all of my wonderful readers today.
