Bury the “I Can’ts”

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I recently turned to a copy of the classic Chicken Soup for the Soul gotten at a used book sale, for my daily devotions. I recently finished Watching for the Morning which I enjoyed, but I needed something new to start on. Well, it’s not new but new to me since I never read it. I decided to browse through and pick a category rather than just go through it cover to cover.

I landed on Chapter 5: Live Your Dream and this was one of the first few entries, Rest In Peace: The I Can’t Funeral which tells the story of a teacher doing an exercise with her students, from the perspective of an administrator type observing the class. I guess this was pretty innovative in 1980 when the book was written, and still a good lesson, and maybe I’ll actually do the exercise. You make a list of I can’t statements, and then put them in a box and bury them. If you have a safe way to do so, burning the list could be even more satisfying, like in a fire place or fire pit if you have one.

In any case, I was not taught to eliminate I can’t thinking or verbalization when I was a kid, but I think I always had a natural aversion to negative or discouraging thinking. I will be honest in admitting it did get through more often than I would have liked, but I always bounced back quickly when I experienced setbacks or discouragement. Bad things do happen in life, so it’s not about whitewashing. We have to be realistic in facing obstacles and disadvantages before we can rephrase them. Like the kids and teacher in the class. They wrote the I can’t statements. They didn’t just pretend they weren’t there. But then they symbolically buried them and, more importantly, changed their mentality and made an ongoing effort to avoid I can’t statements or attitudes.

The teacher made a paper tombstone with I Can’t on it as a reminder for herself and the students of what they were trying to change and it was always present in the classroom providing a sort of accountablity. The teacher and other students could remind each other of the RIP poster if they forgot and made an I can’t statement.

That’s an important point. We all need accountability and encouragement from others to make positive changes in our lives. We have to make the effort of course, but as the saying goes, “No [one] is an island.” We all need good energy and reinforcement.

Burying I Can’t thinking is only half the battle, though. You need to replace it with a healthier outlook of possibility and determination. The I Can statements. It’s always easier to leave a bad habit behind when you have a good one to take its place Visualization helps like the RIP poster in the classroom. If finishing a big home improvement project is the thing you are trying to say you can instead of you can’t then find a picture of a similar project that’s complete and put it on the wall, or just picture what you want it to look like in your head and keep recalling it.

If writing that novel is the thing you felt like you can’t do, then do a mockup of the cover and put it on your desktop or print it and put it on your mirror where you’ll see it every morning. It’ll make you want to work on it. Have a writer friend act as an accountability partner. Give yourself deadlines for the next chapter or figuring out the ending or whatever. Part of changing your thinking from no can do to it’s happening is breaking it down to manageable bites and making progress to spur you on.

If anyone around you is a naysayer whispering doubt in your ear, ditch them fast! Surround yourself with encouragers and allies. Invite people in who care about you and your goals and dreams. Those are the folks you need in your life. So, once you have the I Can attitude locked in, do everything you can to bring about the result you want and stick with people who are on your side.

Go and do!

All content is original and owned by Mark T. Ritchey and cannot be used without permission.

Lifelong target, Part 2

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A few more school bullying incidents have come to mind recently that I feel like sharing now in hopes it helps bring awareness to gangstalking. One was at a second grade assembly where the three classes gathered in one room for a joint assembly as we sometimes did. They would move the desks out of the way and the additional students would sit on the floor in rows. I was settled down on one such occasion talking to my friend when someone did the tap on the shoulder, made you look childish game they did. I can picture how I turned to see which one of the kids in the row behind me had done it. Sometimes I could tell, but the more they did it, the harder it was to determine who the culprit was because the instigator would get more and more kids to participate, so that everyone in the row were all smirking or looking at someone else with the Not Me look or saying the clever, “What?”. I would give up after a few times of this, but they’d always start again a few minutes later or halfway through the assembly if they got bored. Of course, if I had just ignored them and never let them get a rise out of me, they would’ve given up, but I didn’t get that as a kid. I didn’t get the mentality of wanting to torment someone like that. I couldn’t fathom that my annoyance delighted them. I just didn’t think that way. I always wanted to affirm, encourage and include others. Of course, the taunting taps on the shoulder were only a momentary trouble, but the thing that hurt was to have a bunch of kids work together against me. It was the exclusion and disregard for me that was hurtful.

Another time, an older kid on the bus while we were waiting at the school for everyone to get there before the bus headed out, was smacking me on the back of the head right at the soft spot at the crown. He wasn’t trying to fool me about who was doing it. He was just openly bullying me. He was really smacking hard too, and I remember how I felt a little dizzy and kind of reeled a bit for a few seconds before I was even able to turn and say something to him. What struck me, besides his hand, (ha! see what I did there?) was that it seemed as though he was aiming for that particular spot on my head knowing it was a sensitive area and would have that effect. I didn’t think of it at the time, but years later, I thought that someone older had to have told him to try it. They taught him to hit that soft spot to get the desired effect.

Fast forward to tenth grade English class and you’ll see another scene of exclusion. This one didn’t involve any physical attacks, but it was also hurtful. The teacher was lazy and well aware that they couldn’t fire her because she was tenured. (Ironically her name was Firing.) She often just treated her class as a study hall because she hadn’t bothered to do a lesson plan. I often went and sat by my best friend on these do nothing days, but this particular day, I was very tired and not feeling very well physically, probably from my undiagnosed Crohn’s disease. I reviewed my notes for another class that I had a test for, but then I just sat for a while thinking about things. I guess that made it look like I didn’t know what to do with myself socially and the teacher and her pet thought that was pretty funny. I didn’t know they were laughing at me until a popular girl who sat by me in history and often copied my notes and I helped her get ready for tests, came over and told me that’s what they were laughing so hard about. They were making fun of me just because I was sitting there minding my own business. Well, you know what? I didn’t let it get to me. I mean sure it was hurtful at first, but I did go sit with my friend on the next impromptu teacher laziness study hall day. And a cheerleader thought I was cool enough to want to tell me what the mockers were up to. I always had popular people who talked to me. I was one of the top students in the class and I had my small circle of friends. Most people were mature enough to respect that.

The sad thing is that while the rest of us matured and grew in abilities and confidence in life, including some of the participants in the pestering kind of bullying, gangstalkers never grew out of their immature bullying. Unfortunately, their cruel games are not harmless. Instead of pretending not to be involved in pestering by tapping my shoulder from behind like the second graders, these loser sociopaths gang up on a person to disguise who’s turning on electrical field generators nearby and the exact source, so you can’t stop it or sue. And it causes cancer. That’s what electronic harassment is all about!

I rely on God to strengthen and protect me from these childish creeps. My motto for the last seven years now has been, I Will Prevail!

I will keep trying to be a positive influence in the world. I thank God for my writing and photography and many creative abilities.

We the good people, must keep fighting the good fight and encourage one another.

God be with you!

Time always flies

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Seems like time always flies, not just when you’re having fun. I mean, sure, there’s the clock watching hours at work some days when you count the minutes until quitting time, but overall, it just seems that time marches relentlessly on and there’s always more to be done, things to see to, and less leisure time the older you get. Or is that just me? I was off work all week recuperating from surgery. The procedure was last Wednesday so I had part of last week off too. Of course, I was not able to do much the first several days but rest and sleep, which was nice, but I thought a week would feel like so much time and I’d do all this writing and sort old pictures and catch up with people but none of that happened. Of course, one whole day was spent tending to a medical issue stemming from the surgery and I have a follow up appointment today.

I do still have a few more days off next week and only partial days when I first go back to work so there’s a little more time. Maybe I was unrealistic in thinking recuperation time would be a time to accomplish anything. I suppose we all set ourselves up for disappointment at times with unrealistic expectations. I definitely did rest more and got more sleep than I have in ages and that’s important. So, maybe I should be satisfied with that. I wrote a long time in my journal yesterday and have enjoyed having a morning devotional time which I normally don’t have time for. (I do a shorter devotion time after work on weekdays. 5:30 is early enough to get up.)

I guess my Anglo Saxon Protestant upbringing has me putting less value on the R&R time I’ve had; watching TV, social media and reading are not wasting time. Rest is exactly what I was supposed to be doing. Of course, the issue I was having and a family matter going on at the exact same time made it feel less restful. I’m sure that’s a big part of it too.

My introvert side has enjoyed the time at home alone, just me and the cats. Quiet reflection can be restoring and more productive than one realizes sometimes.

Maybe this can be one of those times I wrote about at the beginning of the year, to use as a renewal point. The procedure fixed what it was supposed to so far. So that will be something I don’t have to deal with anymore. And I think it will feel good to get back to a normal routine when I do. And it’s time for Spring! The time changes this weekend here in PA and the colors of nature should be popping out all over soon. Spring is the biggest renewal of all! It’s God’s reminder of eternal life with Him and the unmovable foundation of good that always prevails over evil.

So, maybe the key here is to not focus so much on time as a measure of what’s done or not, but just enjoy the ride and float along the current of time rather than trying to swim against it.

May peace find you and stick with you. Till next time…

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