Tag: Thought of the Day

Thought of the Day

Celestial Cheesecake for Everyone, Please…

L.J. LaBree

Do you believe in karma?

I tend to be a believer in a lot of strange and abnormal things in this world: aliens, magic, the ability to wake up at the precise moment needed in order to get ready and be on time for work without any outside assistance. (I actually know a guy who can do the last one!)

But one phenomenon I will believe in more than anything else? Karma.

I truly believe Karma exists in this world. How else can you explain finding a $5 bill in your pocket a half hour after you help a little old lady put her groceries into her trunk? Or how you end up with an extra chicken nugget in your 5-piece box after a tiring afternoon of cram-studying for finals? 

Okay, maybe some of you are thinking those two instances are just happy accidents, and there’s no such thing as magic or an all-powerful, all-seeing entity watching us all like their own personal ant farm.

For those of you who do think like this… are you okay? Do you need a hug?

Let’s look at this from a psychological perspective: According to the American Psychological Association, those who conduct acts of kindness have shown they end up happier, report less depressive symptoms, and end up becoming more social than before. A trial conducted by the Ohio State University found practicing kindness outperformed traditional cognitive therapy techniques when it came to building social connections. There have even been studies where performing acts of kindness has even lowered blood pressure and cortisol.

To put it in an example: you perform an act of kindness, such as helping the previously mentioned old lady put her heavy groceries into her trunk. You walk away after she thanks you, feeling lighter-footed and happier. Then, sticking your hands into your pockets, you find a $10 that must have been forgotten there some long time ago. You see a homeless person asking for some money so he can buy a hot meal. You decide, while in your helping high, to give him the money. He thanks you profusely and says you’re a blessed soul. You tell him to take care, and walk on for a little while. Getting hungry yourself, you stop into a sandwich shop and are told by the barista that one too many sandwiches were made during the lunch rush, and asked if you’d like to have it? Turns out, its one of your favorite sandwiches! What good luck you came upon!

That’s Karma. You performing good deeds in the world, without expecting anything in return, came back and blessed you in return!

Now, I’m not saying it’s going to happen every single time. And I’m not striving for some sort of perfectionist-like kind of living. Sometimes bad things happen for no reason at all. There’s also no such thing as perfection.

Now, I also believe this can work in the opposite direction – the more evil and meanness you spread in the world, the more meanness and evil will happen to you.

But I don’t want to think about that right now. There’s already enough bad going on in the world. The last thing it needs is to be ‘fed’ again.

So I choose to believe that there is some invisible entity, or entities – who knows? – watching over us and sending us something good and happy-inducing whenever they believe we need a boost in morale. Or they see us trying to spread some kindness amongst ourselves, and say, “hey, this little human is trying her best to show love and kindness to her fellow humans. Let’s send her a chocolate strawberry-covered cheesecake.”

Why, thank you cheesecake-giving goddess. Yes, I would like a slice of that velvety-goodness.

Be kind to your fellow people. Be kind to animals. Be kind to nature. Just be kind, I guess. You never know when you’re going to have that cheesecake be handed to you.

Maybe carry a fork with you everywhere too.

Thought of the Day

Gratefulness does not equal Contentedness

L.J. LaBree

A lot has been on my mind lately.

As well it should be, in my opinion. With the frustrations of the current Administration, the volatile nature of the rest of the world, and the constant feeling of being creatively burnt out, it’s quite understandable to feel as stressed, worried, and conflicted as I do.

If someone were to come up to me and claim to be calm and completely relaxed, I would wonder if said person were either in utter denial, under some heavy form of (insert something witty here), or worse, they had a hand in the chaos.

That being said, I have had several people tell me I should be grateful for what I have in my life. I’ve even heard some tell me some version of “be happy with the life you have” (cue the Disney’s Moana song, Where you are, playing loudly in the background. If you haven’t heard of it, I suggest giving it a listen.)

Yet, something keeps nagging at me from the back of my mind, as if it were some kind of gentle poking at the base of my skull – not painful per se, but very, very annoying.

To be honest, there is nothing wrong with being grateful with what you have. I am much luckier than most people in my generation!

For example, I have two parents who are supportive in everything I do, they would more than welcome me back into their home (free of rent, I might add – even though I have offered to pay more than once!), and allowed me to do whatever I needed to do to make my dreams come to fruition. I have known quite a few fellow Millennials whose parents have either demanded they pay rent, as well their share in utilities, or denied them from moving back home at all. I’ve even heard of some whose parents demand they perform all household chores themselves as a form of punishment for having the audacity of “failing” at their first crack at the world.

And yet, I can’t help but to feel as though this way of thinking is more detrimental than intended. Yes, I am grateful for my parents and the opportunities I’ve had in my life so far. I’m also grateful that I live in a time where I have the rights to vote! Yet, there is still so much more I want to do, see, and experience in my life.

I’ve since then come to the conclusion that many often confuse the word “gratefulness” to equal the word “contentedness”.

Again, I point to Disney’s Moana as a prime example. Her people sing of how happy and grateful they are with their lives, even going so far as to sing “Who needs a new song? This old one’s all we need”. In other words, they equate gratefulness to contentedness and encourage Moana to believe the same. And yet, there is that nagging feeling of foreboding they all feel – the crops failing and withering, no more fish to catch in their lagoons or any other parts of the island. They know something is wrong. And yet, they all try to avert their eyes and try to fix the problem with gratefulness and continuation of the same thing they do every day.

Just because I am grateful for the life I currently have, does not mean in any way shape or form that I am content with said life. And maybe, this life is not content with me.

Think of it this way: If we were to equal the two words to one another, and believe that everyone should be content with their lives, then nothing would ever be accomplished ever again. If doctors were content with their current methods of healing, then medical breakthroughs would never be discovered. If innovators were content with the way things were in life, inventions such as the steam engine, motor vehicles, and computers would never have been created.

When new problems arise, we need to look beyond what is in front of us – to see what is beyond the known – in order to figure out a new solution.

And in order to do that, we need to not allow contentedness to get in the way.

Thought of the Day

Somedays I Wish my Brain had a USB Port…

L.J. LaBree

Ever have those moments where you have an epiphany of creativity, coupled with the inability to write the idea down, promising yourself that you’ll remember it later, only to never think of it again?

Yeah, those moments tend to come around in the middle of the night for me.

It’s always around 3am too, right when my cat gets bored that she’s the only one awake in the apartment, in the whole house really, and demands I awake from my deep slumber to keep her company.

For the life of me, I couldn’t tell you what the wonderful idea was – I know it must have been some sort of residual image or story my mind came up with as I dreamt – it’s rare for me to not have a vivid colorful dream of some sort.

What I can tell you is I was so inspired by this dream, I started plotting a story to follow. Of course, I had to placate the furry brat first, but as I was petting her and letting her drool her happy drool on my face (gross!). It was something that was inspiring and worthy of one – no, TWO Oscars for original screenplay and movie adaptation from a novel. I remember smiling and imagining walking up those hallowed stairs, accepting my award from a beaming Emma Stone ( who seems like a real cool gal if you ask me), and just as I was about to give my speech, see my dad quickly bound up the steps, hug me hard, then go back down to sit with my mom… along with my award.

What? Obviously I’m going to bring them to my first award show.

And what did I do while I was imagining this lovely scene? Did I actually rouse myself to grab my notebook next to my bed and write down this wonderful award-winning story?

NOPE.

I fell asleep petting Spooky.

When I woke up again at 6am, the only thing I remember from this story is the fact that I actually came up with a story.

Faaaaantastic.

I ended up taking faaaar too much time that morning wracking my brain, trying to remember even an ounce of my story.

Not even a crumb was remembered.

These are the days when I think life would be so much easier if I had a USB port somewhere on my head and plug in my phone so I can record everything I can see in my dreams. BOOM, no more forgetting stories or plot lines. Just think of all the stories I could remember and save!

Ah well, such is the daydream for writers.

Thought of the Day

Finally I can Take a Breath…

L.J. LaBree

Hey Everyone!

Life must have decided to kick things up a notch since I last wrote in May.

To summarize:

I was deep in the thralls of apartment hunting – my roommate and I decided that although we enjoyed each other’s company, our desires for the future wouldn’t allow for us to stay under the same roof. So, at the end of our lease, Jazz moved back home to Maine, and I moved into a cozy au pair-esque apartment in Waltham just big enough for myself and Spooky. It wasn’t easy to find this apartment, that’s for sure!

I must have looked at over 15 different apartments, and unfortunately over half of them were barely a step above the exaggerated dives you often see in movies – cracks in the walls, water-damaged wood floors that creak if you look at them wrong, and porcelain tubs with gobs of tape covering the holes where the faucets used to sit.

That wasn’t the worst part though. What took the rest of the cake was the landlords who wanted not only the security deposit and first month, they wanted the last month and for me to cover the realtor’s fee as well… along with an extra $100 a month for “pet fee” and an extra $100 for a ‘potential’ parking spot (meaning you might get one, you might not – it was all first come, first serve). After everything was said and done, the price would have been well over $1,900 a month – something very much out of my budget.

“Why not just get another roommate, Leah?” you might be asking? A couple reasons why that wasn’t in the cards this time around:

  1. With the 7 other roommates I had in my first apartment in Medford, and the one who lived with me and Jazz in Cambridge who hated my guts because I didn’t let him control every minute of my life (including when I could use the bathroom – there were two in the apartment…), I had my fill of roommates. I needed to find a place where I could live and be unapologetically me. Don’t get me wrong – Jazz was a great roommate! One of the best I’ve ever had! But he was also a rare good roommate. those are becoming harder and harder to find, especially with my luck.
  2. Building off the ‘finding a good roommate’ bit, I knew it would be increasingly harder to find someone who not only liked cats, but someone who Spooky would like and want to be around. She doesn’t usually like new people and will hide under my bed or wherever she thinks is safest. She especially didn’t like third roommate who often tried to rush at her and grab her when trying to pet her. He didn’t understand when I told him he needed to let her come to him first – let it be on her terms.

It took some time, but I finally did find a place that was well-kept, decent pay, and allowed pets for no extra fee. I even have my own parking spot! There aren’t any washers or dryers on the premises, so I need to go to a laundromat. But that’s okay – just one small compromise for the chance to have a space to myself and Spooky.

I’ve had a chance to slow down and take a few deep breaths. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do that – there’s been this perpetual feeling of impending doom and waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while now. It isn’t an easy feeling to get out of, especially when you’ve spent years just trying to survive and see the next sunrise.

I’m praying that this will be the last time I move for a while. It’s hard – and expensive – to move around every year! Constantly packing and unpacking really did a number on my anxiety.

I know it isn’t much, but all I’m asking for at this point is to stop and break the cycle of moving every year. I just want to live in a place where I can feel at peace and be with my cat. I want the chance to take more breaths and not feel like I have to bug-out at a moment’s notice.

Thought of the Day

Me Needy Coffee

L.J. LaBree

Ever have one of those mornings where you just can’t seem to get out of bed? Where it wouldn’t matter if the skies were bluer than a robin’s egg, barely a cloud in the sky, and birds twittering at one another and singing for their breakfast, but all you wanted was to slink straight back under the covers and close your eyes?

Yeah, that’s me this morning.

My cat, Binx, tried his usual best to wake me up in the wee hours of the morning dark, yet I didn’t wake up to pat him and say hello back. I almost didn’t wake up when my fitbit vibrated my signal to rise to face another day. I could’ve easily slipped back into sweet unconsciousness and flown back into the coercing adventures of dreamland.
By some sheer miracle, I managed to roll over and check the time on my phone, which blared the thin white numbers 4:57am. Mind you, I normally wake up at 4:35 to have valuable bathroom time all to myself before the rest of my family comes bumbling down the stairs in their slightly-disoriented-just-woken-up stupor. As my heart jumped about a foot up my throat, I leaped from the bed, almost cartwheeled down the stairs, and clumsily opened the food cans for four hungry mewling cats.

I don’t quite remember how I had gotten myself fed and clothed, yet there I was, standing in the bathroom with my work attire on and brushing out the mangled mess of my hair when I heard the heavy-set steps of my father. And not long after my papa, down came my mom, patiently waiting for me to grab my makeup so she could take her clock-work shower.

The rest of the morning followed similar suit. I remember getting into my car, yet the actual travel time between home and work are somewhat fuzzy. I can tell you that I listened to Adam Levine, Shawn Mendes, and several other songs that made me want to swing mindlessly to the beat and melody.

And so, as I sit here at work, writing this piece to keep myself awake, all that I can keep thinking about is: did I bring coffee??