When I feel most whole.

It doesn't hurt to be keenly aware of one's being. Or so it is with me. I suppose if I were basically an unhappy and depressed being, it might hurt. But I'm reasonably happy. And certainly not depressed. Therefore, I feel good and comfortable about myself. I've gone through periods of anxiety during my 75 years on Earth. When I wasn't sure how I felt about myself. But I always get my act together. Sooner or later. Occasionally, someone accuses me of being narcissistic. As if that's bad. I'm not sure that it is. I tend to be more aware of myself when I'm in love. With someone. With something. With life. Maybe that's when I'm most narcissistic and least narcissistic . All at the same time. To put it another way, that's when I feel most whole, most complete. --Jim Broede

I just seem like a Pollyanna.

I have a sense that I want to walk/stroll/jog/run a long distance today. Maybe 20 miles. Certainly more than 10. I exercised daily during my 3 months in Sardinia. Not as vigorously or extended as I'm used to in Minnesota. And now I have to get back into my old rhythm. The one that makes me more comfortable and lighter. Physically. I feel most rested when I exercise a lot. Maybe that's strange. Maybe that should make me tired. But I guess the point is that exercise makes me more relaxed. A relaxed tired isn't like true tiredness. It actually feels sort of good. I'm not gonna do all of my workout in one sustained effort. But rather in spurts. A few miles at a time. Spread out over the entire day. Morning. Noon. And night. I find that if I have a 20-mile day, the last 10 miles comes easier than the first 10 miles. Because it takes time to catch the rhythm. Same goes for writing. I often write better late than early. But not always. I like to pay attention to how I feel. Especially when I'm happy. Which is most of the time. Some people accuse me of being a Pollyanna. But that ain't so. I just seem like a Pollyanna to people in depression. --Jim Broede

I'm totally daffy.

I'm listening closely to my body and mind since I returned from Sardinia on Thursday night. And they are telling me now that it ain't 4 in the morning here in Minnesota. Instead, it's more like 11 a.m., which is the time in Sardinia. I've never felt so out-of-whack time-wise. I suppose it's because I was gone almost 3 months. And it's gonna take a week or so for me to adjust. When I went to bed last night at 10, it felt much later. More like 5 in the morning the next day. I adjusted better to the 7-hour time difference when I went from Minnesota to Sardinia in December. Easier on me pushing the clock ahead rather than back. Although I like something about gaining/finding 7 hours that I had lost a long time ago. Think of it. I left Rome at noon Thursday. And by 3 in the afternoon I was in Philadelphia. Just a 3-hour time difference. Albeit, I was on the plane 9 hours. Anyway, I'm more confused than usual. Which means, I'm totally daffy. --Jim Broede

Embracing sleep & consciousness.

I know people that are tired. Tired. Tired. Tired. Just plain tired. Physically. Mentally. Emotionally. Every which way. And I wonder how I can help them. I often suggest sleep. Lots of it. A good 8 to 10 hours. Every night. That's a good start. Maybe a good physical exam, too. To determine if there's a physical cause. And if it's a mental tiredness, I begin to wonder if it's depression. There are all kinds of depression. Some can be treated with pills. Anti-depressants. But I encourage talk therapy. Or a combination of the two. But I think talk therapy is the best alternative. Maybe because I like to talk. It's one of my favorite pastimes. I could talk day and night. Incessantly. I could drive a psychiatrist crazy. Just talking. And if someone is emotionally tired, I recommend falling in love. With something. Doesn't necessarily mean it has to be with another being. But with some aspect of life. Nature. Literature. Music. Exercise. So many options. Interestingly, I find that some tired people can't seem to get a good night's sleep. Because they are worried about something. Whether it be consciously or sub-consciously. Maybe that's the worst kind of tiredness. It seems to feed upon itself. Gets worse and worse and worse. Makes one a nervous wreck. Because there's no relief. These are the people that worry me. Maybe they should go to a sleep clinic. And learn how to sleep. Sleeping may be a craft, or even an art. I wonder if it can be cultivated. Probably could. If one learned to turn off one's mind. Like a light switch. Some do. With drugs. But that isn't a real cure. One must learn to fall asleep. On one's own. I think one of the great pleasures of life is falling asleep. The euphoria that comes just as one dozes off. Or when one wakes. In the morning. Knowing that one is conscious again. And able to enjoy and embrace conscious life. --Jim Broede

Being happy amongst the unhappy.

I may rub some people the wrong way. Because I push. I nudge. I stir. I even purposely try to annoy. That's my way. Nothing wrong with that. Right? See, that's the way I operate. Not all of the time. But often enough. And one thing about me. I don't mind being wrong. Making mistakes. Feeling my way. Experimenting. To see what works. And doesn't work. I live. And learn. Having lots of fun in the process. It's really nice to have fun in one's life. Combined with love. Can't ask for much more than that. Good health helps, too. Just feeling good. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. Spiritually. Maybe I can't have everything. At least not forever. But on occasion, I get the feeling of having everything. Especially when I'm in a happy frame of mind. And in love. I suspect that I especially rub depressed people the wrong way. Because my attitude often makes them feel more depressed. My happiness contrasts sharply with their sadness. And another thing. I tend to not throw pity parties. That rubs the people that want pity the wrong way. They want a big party. But that's not my kind of party. Because it's too pitiful. That makes me seem cruel. But I ain't cruel. I'm just a reasonably happy being amongst some very unhappy people. --Jim Broede

To live to the utmost.

My true love and I are in our 41st month together. In one form or another. It all started on an Oct. 25. So we celebrate on the 25th of every month. Normally, I'm not the kind of guy that likes to observe anniversaries. Or momentous occasions. But this is an exception. Because it's so special. It has brought me extraordinary happiness. I was sad after Jeanne died of Alzheimer's. My wife and love of 38 years. But not for long. Because I understood that I had experienced a wonderful love. For which I was grateful. And I didn't expect to fall in love again. I thought maybe I'd just mark time for the rest of my life. Instead, I began taking life one day at a time. And tried to make the most of the time left. By savoring life moment by moment. And to just let things happen. In a natural way. And lo and behold, I discovered this is the way to live life. I credit Jeanne. For teaching me about love. Yes, how to love and cherish life. I'm sure that Jeanne is very happy for me. For loving in the right way. For getting on with life. Just because Jeanne is gone from the Earthly dimension doesn't mean I'm supposed to give up on life. Instead, to live to the utmost. That's why I was put on Earth. To be a romantic idealist. And a lover. Among other things. And I suspect we all have missions. To live grandly and gloriously and lovingly. --Jim Broede

Productive and meaningful time.

I don't have to waste time when I'm stuck on an overseas flight from Rome to Philadelphia. Because I can write. At any time. About anything that comes to mind. And I count that as productive and meaningful time. I'm creating something on this flight. By filling up my notebook. With observations. Thoughts. I'm keeping my mind active. I've tried to sleep, too. And dozed off. Lightly. For a few moments. By imagining sitting on a bench in Piazza Roma in Carbonia. Oh, such a pleasant image comes to mind. And occasionally I stand up and stretch for a few minutes. And now I notice we are in the 7th hour of our flight. We'll land in Philadelphia in less than two hours. And I'll be back in the USA for the first time in three months. --Jim Broede