Smart is as smart does

 Maybe my pets can read and thus know that I write about them. Maybe when I’m gone to work they make themselves at home in the living room (where the “Dog Rule” manual states they are not allowed) and read my column in the newspaper or maybe they surf my online blog for the latest scoop.

Nonetheless something is up. I have a sneaking suspicion that the animals are in cahoots with each other. “One-upmanship” appears to be on the rise around here.

I say this after getting up from breakfast at the kitchen table this morning to find that “Millie” the cat barfed up an unknown substance on my bedspread that I can only describe as something I’ve seen in the movie “Alien.”

And as I hauled the quilt outside to scrape off the juicy chunks before throwing it in the washing machine I looked out over the farmyard to see Cash writhing his snout continuously in the grass as Dot furiously swung a black and white rodent to and fro in her teeth.

It only took a matter of seconds for the stench to reach my nostrils.

It was 7:30 a.m. and already my day had more lead in it than a 20-gauge shotgun shell.

Oh, how easily I could have gone off like that shotgun but I decided to disengage from it all and “go with the flow.”

I’m smart like that.

As I stare out my bedroom window from my writing desk just now, I watch as a robin perched on the clothesline prunes its feather and then poops on my new pair of freshly washed jeans hanging below where bird sits. Hmmm.  It’s a “Fables of the Green Forest” kind of morning.

A Facebook notification “bling” lights up my iPhone and I see that my favorite reporter just left a comment on my recent status. “Fascinating observation,” was his remark to my new mantra I posted.

I have a “Quotes for Work” file on my computer and I dredge it often for brain food.

I’m smart like that.

I added a new quote to it on Friday—“Worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.” 

I am reminded of a story my Captain told to me last week over a cup of coffee. He, who is wise in sweet form, was recalling his school days and English class and the dry spells he encountered when it was time to write a story. His teacher told him to think of a favorite quote and then write something about it. It made all the difference in removing his creative block.

“Worrying is like praying for what you don’t want.”  I found this most fascinating observation marked as “Zen tip #89” on one of the websites I frequent. I’m not sure what the first 88 tips are but they must be totally awesome, given my opinion of #89.

I freely admit that I worry a lot, even though I spend an inordinate amount of time reading and studying the ways in which not to do that.

I worry about the old, rusted, tried and true gears of my life like finances, paying bills, affording house repairs, and fitting life into life’s busy schedule and I’ve discovered that I do most of this unproductive nonsense while riding my lawn tractor.

In fact, that light bulb just went off last night, being Sunday, when I was cutting the front lawn.

I would start off anticipating the upcoming first day at my new full time job—a true story that begins on August 29^th—and by the next go ‘round of the lawn I’d be right back in the mud of worry.

I’d realize where I was in my head, change tracks and kick start the excitement again about the new adventure in employment and then unknowingly wander off into the land of fret by the time I’d made a full circle again.

And if my recall is as good as I think it is, it seems to me I’ve rode this tractor on similar mental grounds before during the hazy times of the past where my mind would get sucked into the dark vortex of stewing and suffering about all the reasons why my ex-husband had chosen a life that didn’t include me.

Back then by the time I was done mowing, I’d be reduced to nothing but a drained soul with no possibility or hope—and for someone with a great passion for the power of positive thinking this mind ritual I put myself through was grave business.

Maybe I need to hire someone to cut my grass?

I’ve written so many times about the power of choice, choosing my thoughts the same way I choose my clothes every day—choose wisely. I’m still learning.

So the “worrying is like praying for what you don’t want,” quote has struck a chord with me. I don’t want to focus on the things in life I don’t want.

Thoughts become things. Choose good ones.

Sometimes I’m smart like that.