Tag Archives: life

Vibrate Love Like A Tuning Fork

Seems that living is, often, difficult these days. Lingering reverberations from COVID, upheavals and warring countries, impending elections, fractionalized society, wild and dangerous weather, snarky comments from complete strangers on social media platforms; and, so much more. Add to all this the wear and tear of daily life – illnesses, finances, deaths, and all the mundane stuff that requires our attentions and energies. It’s no wonder folks can be argumentative, short-tempered, and downright nasty sometimes.

However, here’s the thing: if what you say and/or do you lead with love, it can begin to change your point of view and, ultimately, the outcome.

For example, the other day my husband and I were in a big box store. He’d made comment to a woman that was somewhat playful and innocent. It was a brief exchange. Both smiled and moved on. A bit later he and I passed her, again. She made reference to the previous encounter and the three of us started talking about how easy, everyday conversations seemed to happen less and less as hand-held devices have become where lots of folks focus; and, not on/with each other. A fourth woman came up on our conversation and agreed with what she heard. For several minutes all four of us were engaged, sharing ideas and information, laughing and bemoaning what seemed to have become a less friendly world.

What, you might ask, has this example to do with the title of this brief piece? To be open and available to another person you must, first, acknowledge each other. To be able to acknowledge each other means that you must both, literally, see each other. That’s the first part.

The second part is that you’re at ease and open to converse with another person. It can be a simple nod of the head as you pass each other, acknowledging that, and moving on. Takes no time at all.

There’s the third part – time. We seem to be in such a rush to get somewhere that we blaze through lines, cut folks off on the road, belly ache when we have to wait longer than we want. Patience. Rather than belly aching, enjoy the few moments (more or less) to just be still, at rest as it were. Relax.

All three parts require that one person sees the other person, takes the time to share an acknowledgement and/or a word or two; and, recognizes that we’re all in this life together. Some days are good. Some days are wonder-filled (sic). Some days are heavy loads. If we vibrate love like a tuning fork, everything we do and/or say comes through those vibrations.

Will any of this change the course of human history? I don’t know. What I do know is that it might make a stranger’s life just a bit better, might briefly lift the invisible load they’re carrying that day. That counts. That counts every time.

Monday, June 5, 2023, was not my day to die.

Early (12:30 AM) Monday, June 5, 2023, I experienced a feeling in my chest that migrated down my left arm and back, and radiated from front to back and front, again. Medical professionals would call it “pain”. I describe it as a deep, specific ache. Within short minutes I knew something was very wrong and not me. “We’re going to the emergency room.” I told my husband, Al.

Longer story short – I was having a heart attack. Because of the location of the blockage, no stint or ballon. I’m being treated with medication for now. After the procedure, my cardiologist said: “You are no longer a smoker.” I replied: “That’s right.” Done and done.

As a life long swimmer I took baby steps to get back into Narragansett Bay (RI), where I had just swum the Friday before for the third time this season. Two days ago I was back in that water – slowly, attentively. It was wonderful.

Follow-up appointments with PCP and cardiologist are on the calendar. I was very fortunate. I’m feeling blessed and filled with gratitude. June 5, 2023, was not my day to die.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

NB: Because of this life-changing health event, I’ve begun researching women and heart attacks. There’s alot of information available. It’s my intention to write atleast three (3) pieces focusing on different aspects of health care, heart attacks, and women. More needs to be known. More needs to be shared. More needs to be talked about to elevate the knowledge and understanding. Women and men don’t, necessarily, experience heart attacks the same. What’s your heart attack story women? I’ve just, briefly, told you mine. Thanks, in advance.

My Sons

Stepping into this morning’s light, it’s the same as yesterday’s but not. My heart breaks open, knowing that, someday, I’ll have to go away. Tears of sorrow. Tears of joy. Who will come and comfort me? Who will come and comfort you after I go?

@JessanDunnOtis (c) #Writer

This Place Called Home

This place called home has shifted over the decades. Growing up the first several years, home was a Cape Cod-type bungalow, built just after WWII, in a suburb of New York City – commuting distance. The large tract of land behind our home was an old orchard farm. The barn still stood, slowly falling into disrepair. But, the apple trees! Oh, those acres of Granny Smith apple trees were magnificent!

Those trees had, obviously, been tended, pruned, and nurtured. The branches were smooth, easy to climb. The apples were tart/sweet, brilliant, sap green, and always in abundance. I used to climb those trees as the Granny Smiths ripened, perfuming the air with their plump greenness. The pruning created upward, smaller branches where some of the best fruit was.

Sitting among the apples, dangling my legs over smooth branches, crunching baby teeth into sun-warmed flesh that puckered my lips – was there anything better than that those days?

Social Media Fanfare Winner…Ten Years Later

Social Media Fanfare Winner Shares Her Telework Tips

Social media has changed the way we interact with friends, family, and yes, even coworkers. As part of Telework Week 2012, Telework Exchange launched a Social Media Fanfare contest, to find the ultimate telework fan.  

We sorted through hundreds of tweets, likes, posts, and tips on Facebook, Twitter, and Foursquare to pick the top fan who actively posted on Telework Week’s social media platforms. Read more below about her telework experiences as well as some of her favorite things about teleworking. Congratulations to our Telework Week 2012 Ultimate Fan.

Jessan Dunn Otis

Teleworking isn’t anything new to our Telework Week Ultimate Fan, Jessan Dunn Otis.  A teleworker since May 1996, Jessan finds she can accomplish more when working from home.  Not only is she more productive, but telework allows her to spend more time with her family and friends while still being able to manage her work schedule.

An independent freelance writer, editor, consultant, and mentor who works in the Providence, Rhode Island area, Jessan says telework helps her be more accessible to her local, national and international clients since she can spend more time working, and less time commuting.  “[I have] a very short commute (approximately 12-14 steps),” she says.  Technology tools such as her laptop computer, phone, and voice-over-Internet Protocol services help her stay connected. 

Jessan knows work/life balance is key when teleworking.  She takes breaks from her work schedule to go for a walk, sit in the sun, run errands, and enjoy lunch every day with her husband.  “Celebrating 2nd day of #TeleworkWeek by going 4 a well-earned walk. Enough ‘time on task’ 4 now. Join me? #PVD #RI pic.twitter.com/w6rgzYtf,” she tweeted during Telework Week.

But for this full-time teleworker, Telework Week is not a once-in-a-while thing.  “Alas (for some), #TeleworkWeek comes to an end today. For those of us who’ve been teleworking a long time … #DanceOn…! Cheers!” she tweeted.

Jessan can be contacted at:  

website|blog http://JessanDunnOtis-Writer.com

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/in/jesssandunnotis

Twitter: @JessanDunnOtis 

P.S. Ten years later Jessan’s still teleworking, now referred to as remote working. This piece was slightly edited in October, 2022.     

Sometimes life fools you.

#Rise_and_Shine Welcome to #Monday, September 5, 2022

Sometimes you think you know your life. Sometimes life fools you.

Yesterday afternoon, while traveling only a very short distance, my SweetMan and I were going to pick up a specific kind of clam rake that someone we’d never met was offering for free on our local Nextdoor site.

Thing is, Al had not been feeling too good the past few days. He’s had severe motion sickness all his life. With birthdays, unbidden it comes and goes often, causing him to sit, quietly, and make no sudden movements. But, he really wanted *that* clam rake!

We arrived at Jim and Jane’s. The clam rake was perfect! Instant kinship. Jim and Al hit it off  – lots of shared interests. Jane was sunning on their deck. Jim and Al went inside to continue to talk. I joined Jane on the deck. Good conversation.

Eventually, Jim and Al came outside. Al wasn’t looking too good. Longer story short: after they joined Jane and me on the deck, Al grayed, broke a cold sweat, collasped, passed out, and vomited.

Jane called 911. Jim helped me bring Al to an upright position so he wouldn’t aspirate his vomit. By the time Warwick Rescue arrived, Al was sitting squat on the deck, phasing in and out.

Time was approximately 2 PM.

I arrived at Kent County Hospital Emergency, just after they brought in Al. I had to wait until they processed him to get the okay to see him.

Doctors. Information exchanged. “Tell me what happened.” more than once. All the while I’m watching to see his color come back – he had looked like library paste sitting on that deck.

Chest x-ray. Off for a ct scan. Back in #22. Color looking better. Speech more coherent. Waiting for blood work tests to come back. Talking with each other. Laughing. Relaxing.

Shift change. Two new doctors come in. “We think it’s better that you stay overnight for observation.” I raised my hand. “Do I have a vote in this?”  Al said, “Okay.”

Once in a while I had stepped outside to breathe the (now) late afternoon/early evening air and to exhale.

When Al got supper, part of which we shared as I sat on the edge of his bed, I felt he was in good hands; and, although he doesn’t like hospitals, it was okay for me to kiss him and leave.

Time was approximately 7:15 PM.

On my way home last night, I stopped to thank Jane and Jim for their kindness. They offered me an adult libation, just a shot. I accepted.

All things being good and equal, once everything is okay today, I’ll go back to Kent County Hospital later and bring my SweetMan home.

Sometimes you think you know your life. Sometimes you don’t. Just as well, sometimes.

#HappyLaborDay

(posted to Facebook, Monday, September 5, 2022 at approximately 6:44AM)

#PUSH – Persist Until Something Happens

If you feel you’ve hit a brick wall, if everyone is telling you you’re being foolish and will never succeed, if you believe your dream is unattainable, if you think you’re the only person in the world that’s ever been [____fill in this blank___], if you can’t find your joy anymore, if the curb looks up to you, if you think you’re too young, if you think you’re too old, if all you seem to be getting is failure, if anyone has ever called you stupid, fat, and/or ugly, if you simply can’t go another step; repeat after me, like a mantra: #PUSH.

Wednesday Prayer ~ June 3, 2020 ~ by Jessan Dunn Otis, Writer

“Begin each day with gratitude – for your life, for the sun, for the rain, for your breath.

Begin each day with love – for your life, for the sun, for the rain, for your breath, for yourself, for each other.” @JessanDunnOtis 6.3.2020 (c)

The beauty of this place

The beauty of this place

 

Sweet, salted sea air     Pine and palm     Sugar sand and St. George Island – sand dollar, shark tooth   “TomTom, how you doin’?”  “I’m doin’ alright.”   Tillie Miller Bridge between here and Tiki – Plump, Gulf shrimp and Apalach oysters   Hickory smoked chicken and ribs (no rub) and sunfried jellyfish

 

Seagulls     Sea terns     Great blue herons     Dolphins spyhop and blow every now and then     Distant light on Dog Island in a 2:20 AM blueblacknight

 

Sopchoppy   Eastpoint   Panacea   Alligator Point

 

A few days back Julie and Artie left, again, having returned from leaving once before and we all walked this beach, beyond the pine tree point, further than any of us had gone before – sea-silvered driftwood, beheaded brown pelican in the brambles of sea grass and pine needles     Warming sun     Cool, hard-packed, low tide sugar sand under bare feet   Sassy leaping pine-stained, sepia rivulets

 

The laughing gull has returned each morning, greeting and reclaiming its territory and, more than likely, calling out “Sea urchin!” to the others that, eventually, return — glide, drift, rise and drop, land     Eat, stay — then, again, depart  —  leaving this length of calm, shallow bay to terns, herons and egrets to forage

 

The beauty of this place is as intricately delicate as the silent glideflight of eleven brown pelicans in singular formation, skimming the shallow wave crests – moving from east to west – becoming, eventually, a pulsing line disappearing into the horizon

 

The beauty of this place

 

The red smirch of Crystal hot sauce spilled at the edge of a previous high tide line, scattered with Apalachicola oyster shells from our early evening appetizers, has been consumed by the storm-driven, rough chop of last night’s rain, wind and the approaching full moon     Wind out of the Southeast, breaking diagonal crests of gunmetal gray and the red buoy strains on its chains as the tide shifts and the channel churns

 

There is violence in the beauty of this place, too  –  ships lost, lives swallowed whole, coyotes grab dogs, alligators grab anything

 

Waves meet land and visibly reverberate back into water, again –

making     unmaking     remaking

 

A broken buoy drifts     Freed until it’s caught on low tide sea grass before this tide turns     The sun breaches darkening, layered afternoon storm clouds to the West, while brilliantly illuminating the etched, white sandbar over there

 

Burble of language bounces inside my ear – “Hey! How you doin’?” heard so often it becomes as familiar and unnoticed as the wave and the air and this light

 

The beauty of this place is as much a mystery to me as you

 

Bert and Kathy, Hattie and Zack – come and met and gone     Orange and onion salad, frittatas made and shared   Al and Sandy, Sharon and Larry, Scotty, Doug, Gen and Ted     Sun-warmed, woman laughing with Pat — LaVerne with her easy, flashing Apalach smile     Kim and Tony and oystering all Monday morning across from St. Vincent because the rip was too chopped

 

Three brilliant, crested egrets graze along this shore, dolphins pass and blow and continue on, as heedless of us as the swarm of terns that rise and twist and glide away to feed further down on this storm-tossed, driven gloss

 

WOYS, Oyster Radio, 100.5 FM, plays softly as the shrouded sun journeys further West     The playful pinwheel whirls and chatters, stick jammed between the weathered 1st and 2nd boards of that well-worn picnic table     Just outside this open window, burlap oyster bag flaps

 

Steelwater, forbidding wind along this coast of Carrabelle     Another invisible finger whips this water, etching new (yet ancient) patterns

 

Tide turns, distant sandbar, barrier beach revealed     Unseen fish school as flocks follow and feed, far off

 

Damp, salted air     Thin, singular electric line that leads from shore to dock light               Whisper of wave and wind

 

The beauty of this place

 

No matter where I go nor what I do, the beauty of this place will taste like home as salt is in my tears

 

The apparent void dissolved     The horizon I can never reach will always draw me in, seeming to want to go further than my eye can see, when the greatest daring starts within

 

The beauty of this place…
~ ~ ~

Dedicated to: Suzanne Creamer, Stephine McDowell, Marlene Moore, Jennifer Moro, Albert Otis, Jennifer Pickett, C.J.(Joe)Pouncey, Sassy, Judi Rundel

~ ~ ~

HoHum RV Park/Carrabelle, Florida/January-February, 2004

 

(c)Jessan Dunn Otis / 2004-2017