Caring About Communication: Should We?

Should We Be Caring About Communication?

We Should All Be Caring For Our Relationships-Are You?

“Communication is worth caring about,” insists Tammy. “Research shows that better disclosure of our feelings can answer the often-painful split, between our inner thought and our spoken word. Frankly, I find it hard to tell when dialog starts and stops.”

Because what happens long before we speak may sway the outcome. Also, what happens in our “talk” might have an impact in the future. Because we connect with others, especially partners, in a variety of ways.

So, each setting calls for some kind of successful transfer skills. Suppose child hood friends Joe and Tom now live 1,500 miles apart. What was once an easy friendship, is now awkward. Talking on the phone, texting, or emailing isn’t working for them.

Joe shakes his head, “I can’t remember the last time Tom and I hung out together.”

He shrugs, knowing his girlfriend Tammy will ask him about it tonight.

“I can’t stand talking about it. She’s always on my case. Even our relationship,” he grumbles. Joe wishes he could keep the relationship with Tom going across the miles. He hates talking about affections with Tammy.

Joe rubs his hand across his forehead, turns off the TV, and finishes dressing for his date with Tammy.

Like Joe, most of us have to communicate daily. Sometimes it’s vital to a long-distance relationship, a romantic one, or just to get what we want. Opportunities to do it right fill our everyday lives. Even demands it. Because how we talk, listen, and retain information shows how much we care about the exchange.

Joe would than understand why Tammy likes to talk about their love even when no problem exists. Joe’s insight into long distance friendships might help him with Tom despite the miles.

Smiling. He thinks, “Wow, better communication skills can save my relationship with both Tom and Tammy. I’m kinda glad I’m listening.” 

Most of us want better skills while Caring for our personal relationships.

In fact, it’s the early days of courtship that help us gain identity. We show each other who we are and where we rate.

Joe tells Tammy, “You’re so smart.” “Your beautiful.”

She says, “Well, your very handsome.” “Joe, you make me laugh so hard!”

We see ourselves through the eyes of others. These messages are important to our self-concept. Joe’s messages to Tammy as well as Tammy’s to Joe forge bonds. Content produces either a high or low-level of meaning. Because later on these are the values that reflect how we see ourselves in a relationship.

Our personal values directly influence our health and happiness.

Studies shows that being in touch with others actually promotes health and wellness benefits. Whereas isolation is believed to produce stress, disease, and early death.

Groups looked at many things and found “When we lack closeness to others we have greater levels of worry, anxiety, and depression.”

Which can leave us sensitive to a range of minor and major illness.

“In fact, social isolation of any kind is as dangerous as any chronic illness, smoking, or obesity,” writes Crowley.

Dr. Ornish studied both healthy and sick people for years. In an interview, Dr. Ornish stated, “Love and intimacy are at the root of what makes us sick and what makes us well. I am not aware of any other factor in medicine-not diet, not smoking, not exercise-that has a greater impact.”

Communication has power!

In a similar Newsweek article, it became clear to one reporter that, heart and breast cancer patients recovered 50% faster with support and talking to others.

“I never knew communication was so important to our health.”

Marriage counsels persist that, “Healthy communication is key to A Caring and enduring relationship.”

Sandy leans forward, “When my boyfriend moved away, the hardest part wasn’t missing the big things in each other’s life. It was missing the little stuff. The little things that happen in our lives each day.”

Janet smiles, “I know. It was like we weren’t part of each other’s normal life anymore. The small talk mattered to me the most.”

Failure is not always troubles, problems, or conflict, but rather actual talking. Both young women seemed to be satisfied with that answer.

Janet says, “Most Americans will agree that the #1 reason for splitting is no talking; surpassing sexual and money problems.”

You and I can probably agree that routine small talk forges stronger bonds and sustains intimacy more than a loud declaration of love! Most romantic couples report that small talk, brief chit-chat, or short dialog of current events was more satisfying. In addition to keeping a steady pulse in their relationship.

Without hesitation Tammy says, “There’s never a problem Joe. I just feel that we have a lot going for us. It’s obvious you do too.”

Joe nods, “Yeah. I just didn’t know how important it was for our health and happiness.” He leans forward kissing Tammy on the forehead, “Now I know how to deal with things. That don’t go my way.” 

Read On:

http://www.ornish.com

http://www.newsweek.com/communicationandhealth

Worry, Stress, Anxiety: Help! Why It’s No Friend To Us!

WORRY IS CRIPPLING: INDEED, IT’S NO FRIEND TO US.

Don't Worry-Be Happy

Worry! Can it lead us to an early grave? Dr. Falvo says, “Yes, but not the kind we think about, like great sorrow, great burdens, or great hardships. It’s the day-to-day worry that kills.” “The petty anxieties and fears that gray our hair, hurry our wrinkles, and keep us restless day and night,” agrees Dr. Khalsa. Perhaps it’s no wonder that Mr. and Mrs. No Sleep add up to big business. Worry my friends never bridged any gap.

We seem to be in constant pursuit of purpose, freedom, and leisure. But how quickly we exhaust life. Studies of the brain and modern science persist, “Worry kills. It’s not the occasional concern, but frequent fretting. The drop, drop, drop of it upon one subject or another that destroys.” Still others insist, “That burdens hammer on our sensitive nerve organisms and cannot be thrown off. Because all the body becomes affected.” Further findings state no mental attitude is more disastrous to our personal health or happiness than the burden of worry.

BE NEITHER A NERVOUS MAN OR WORRY WOMAN

We fuss and agonize over the silliest of things. “I am awfully worried this morning,” Betty Bother said. “Why, I can’t remember. Oh, because that was last night.” How many of us do that? We know it is the foe of beauty, not to mention health. But we nurse our troubles like babies. You and I should know they grow larger with that kind of care.

      Then again, we have Matt Tension who fretted for 20 years over a misfortune that never showed up. A bit striking, but you get the picture. Maybe rejoicing in unforeseen blessings of coming days is best. Thackeray said of life, “Frown at it and it will look sourly upon you; laugh at it and it is a jolly companion.”

      Science Daily wrote, “Fear of the unknown is common to many anxiety disorders.” They also said, “We are often concerned about something bad that never happens.” They must know Matt Tension. “People get to figuring what might happen year after next. Letting the fire go out. Catch their death of cold right where they stand,” said Uncle Eben.

Why? Because their worrying becomes too much, leaving them physically ill. Mr. Trouble anticipated, but not found. It is not work that exhausts us. It’s our mental condition that makes us old and haggard at 40. That should be enough to shake Mr. & Mrs. Burden.

HABITUAL FRETTinG IS WORRY

Habitual Fretting, sounds like a few friends of mine. They tend to see more of Mr. Trouble then I. Never well enough off. Weather never suits them. Too hot or cold, too damp or dry. Roads are either muddy, dusty, or bumpy. They are the ones blowing out the candles instead of lightening them. Gosh, can’t please them. We don’t have to reform the universe, only ourselves. The rest will take care of itself. But can’t sway them.

I aim to see the rain wash away my miseries and unearth my comforts. I will appreciate both the sun and its shadow. No wish to predict evil. Can’t bear to snuff hope. See only the best in things. Because when worry becomes too much, it can lead to feelings of high unrest. Affecting our bodies in a way I don’t want and ruining my SOUP & SEX.

https://www.psychologytoday.com

https://www.agingcare.com

 

 

Ukrainian Christmas It’s Not To Late

  Christmas Card Late: No Problem

Christmas w/ soupandsex

We Americans seem to think, if we get a Christmas card late, that we’ve been forgotten.

Since I’m not Ukrainian, but I am half Canadian; this is what I know.

Indeed, you can have a great alibi, while getting off the hook.

Just be a bit festive, you won’t be to blame. Because you’ll have the best excuse to justify your name.

First of all, you’ll look pretty cool.

Because you’re unassuming loved one or friend; will get their card at the beginning-not end.

So, when you’re feeling that Holiday pinch and January is here. Step up and give’em an extra reason to party in the New Year!

Another Merry time, which starts January 7th, lasting yet another week of holiday magic and presents.

Braided loaves, blessed nights, lots to drink, and carols; Ukrainians enjoy merriment, family, friends, and fables.

Tales of the Holy Child, St. Nicholas, and St. George-let the spirit of the holidays live on and be anew.

Finally, a clever apology that overlooks the norm!

Your finest card. A gift of wine. You’re magnetism will do you fine.

In addition to vindication. You’re cunning charm and validation. You’re brainy plea; to pardon thee.

Because the lastly words they’ll hear you say, “Have a Very Merry Ukrainian-X-Mas Day!

 

 

Summer-All On A Summer’s Day-Mindful Thoughts

All On a Summer’s Day

It’s strange how events have a way of repeating themselves. Summer. It’s been almost a week since school let out for summer vacation. Everyday, including today it rained hard. It rained so hard that we can’t go outside to play. My brother Rudy and I had looked forward to no more school. Swimming all day, every day, at the beach. Instead we seem to be stuck inside, again, looking out at a world we can’t be a part of.

But there’s that rickety old rope draped over a time-worn branch of our beloved oak tree-just beyond the kitchen window. The urge to swing on it is just too irresistible. Stop! We have to reflect on the words of our homely neighbor and our mother, who points upwards saying much to often, “You cannot serve two masters, for its virtues that a wise boy should often seek.”

Somehow those words end up always being a sound piece of advice-but not today, not today.

We would never dream of not doing what mother says, but it’s been a whole week of rain and indoor stuff. We can’t stand it anymore! With a bolt of enthusiasm Rudy and I exit the safe dwelling of our home-for that rickety old rope. A chance of freedom; not fretting the outcome.

Always, when we swung from that rope we felt as if we could see for miles. We could see from one side of the lake to the other. That was a distance for us at that age. We were in elementary school. The world was so much bigger then. At that age day after day we could stroll down the same old shady lane or swing from that same old rickety old rope no explanations, no planning, and no afterthought. We could imagine we saw castles that looked like they did in their heyday and that we lived in those castles for a while. The immaculate grounds held numerous swinging trees for our pleasures alone. It’s quite possible that the spirit of youth loves only the beauty of such special places.

But nobody was home, anywhere, to give much mind or care for that matter. Just two boys swinging on a rickety old rope on a dark rainy day during summer vacation is all it would have been to them, if anybody would have cared at all. But, it was not just any normal summer’s day. The sky was as dark as dusk and there was a bad storm brewing. We were told by mother to stay inside with a promise not to go out in that weather.

I remember, even now, the ancient old tree creaking and swaying in the wind as well as the force our little bodies had on her old limb while we swung higher and higher. The rain whipped at our faces so hard it hurt. We thought we heard thunder in the distance as the sky grew even darker and powerfully more intense. Lightning collided with it’s natural force against the branch of the “she oak”, inches from where our small hands gripped the rope. I yelled to my brother, “Are you scared at all” as we grasped the rope tighter and swung on.  I remember he looked at me with surprise as though the thought hadn’t really occurred to him.

Then the end came. Our enthusiasm ended. The shady lane, the distance we could once see, the castles imagined now all held the look of desolation. In one moment-as the leg of lightning struck the branch that held our beloved rope-all we could say was good-bye-good-bye to everything. That rope that held the pleasures of our youthful paradise-that seemed to be unshakable and enduring died.

That rickety rope that we played on for so many years was coming down with a crash and Rudy and I were at the very end. We hit the neighbor’s hedge with a bang. I touched myself as if to feel my life. My brother looked up at me with a wild smile, “That was great little brother. Now we better get inside before anyone sees us and tells mother.”

Later that night, after we had gone to bed, we talked of that lightning storm that took our old rope. We talked of our wild ride-together. We laughed about the expression on my brothers face. Finally, as we drifted off to sleep, we agreed that nothing would ever compare to that escapade we had-All On A Summer’s Day.

Even as we grow old, memories are never forgotten and never should be.

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