The Right Tools for The Right Job

ToolsThat’s right — the “right” (as opposed to the “left”) tools meant for certain jobs DO make that job easier.

Just a couple of weeks ago as I was de-cluttering and cleaning the house, this thought crossed my mind a few times.

While it is absolutely awful of me not to have changed my scouring pad (for pots and pans) for 2 months, I dilly-dallied on purchasing a new one. Why? I was still able to scrub the black soot off of the pot bottoms with the thinning scouring pad, though it took more elbow grease than necessary.

I became so used to exerting maximum effort that I began to believe that I was using the right tool for the job.

So I finally bought the heavy-duty and thick scouring pad just last week and voila! Just a little pressure from my fingers and the soot on the pans held no resistance. OMG! Why did I delay replacing my old thin scouring pad? All I needed was the right tool for the job.

Some of the other “realizations”:

Floor cleaner to mop the floors — an all-purpose cleaner simply doesn’t do as good a job as a cleaner formulated especially for cleaning the floors. Again, for the sake of not having too many products on hand, I used an all-purpose cleaner for the floors for several weeks. Not the same, especially when you have dogs that drool and leave traces of muddy paw prints in their wake.  It also doesn’t do a great job on glass. The glass cleaner was so much better!

A hack saw to “cut” thick branches – our shrub cutter (like humongous scissors) gave my elbow an unpleasant shock. It was just not built for thick sturdy branches full of hefty thorns. I finally decided, after many months of watching a pomelo tree in the back yard grow at the rate of 1 inch per hour (it seemed that way), to buy a proper saw. The hubby sawed away in just a few minutes. Whew! Now our cable TV satellite is no longer obstructed.

Honestly, not all the DIY posts we see on Facebook or Youtube actually work. I’ve tried many. While I try to avoid using too many chemical- based products, some DIY “earth-friendy” products are just not made for certain jobs.

The right medication and treatment for certain medical conditions – definitely no DIY or self-diagnosing here. A 10-session back therapy for lumbar instability (based on an x-ray) and severe back pain was the right tool for the job. All the mentholated patches, hot pads and exercises did not alleviate the pain because it was NOT muscle pain. I just self-diagnosed it as such.

So I think I will just stick with the right tools. They DO make life a little bit easier.

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Trauma in Paradise

Lonely Beach

Paradise is a subjective word.

I learned this only recently – very recently.

Paradise for me is no longer just a place. It is being with the people I love – wherever we are.

Though living by the beach for a little less than two weeks would be like living in paradise, or so I thought, it was hell-on-earth for me. I did not know it would be. I would not have ventured out when I did otherwise.

I was lonely. My husband couldn’t be with me for many days as work required him to be in the city. I couldn’t do it. I could not last being with people who claimed to treat me as “family” but made me feel isolated. I could not last being away from my husband anymore.

I basically courted depression and anxiety – the very same conditions I thought would somehow be “eased” once I am surrounded by water and working in what seemed to be “ideal” work conditions. At 48 years old, I still don’t know myself that well.

It’s not the place. It never was. I was too anxious about the future and was blinded by the promise of a better career – and an attractive salary – that I did not stop longer to really think and consider. What do people always say? If it’s too good to be true, it usually is.

And I finally saw through it. All this time, I had been listening — hardly talking — and I finally discerned. It helps to just listen. Usually, the more people talk, the more mistakes they make by revealing more of their real motives.

The promises made were as loose as as the fine grains of sand falling between my fingers. True characters were revealed, shattering whatever “good impressions” I may have had. I was lonely. I felt very out of place.

I was very lonely. And I left. I picked up whatever I could carry and headed out to the bus station. I had to leave – for good.

And so now I am home again – with my husband and our 3 dogs. I am still recovering from the trauma.

I will get better. We will get better.

A Rainbow Spells “H-O-P-E”

Rainbow_BagasbasI woke up early this morning to witness a perfectly arched and unbroken rainbow. It was literally “clear as day”.

It rained for several days here by the beach – on and off — like a leaky tap.

So the start of the day was, to say the least, hopeful.

Inundated by depressing and stressful thoughts, and the harsh new realities I face, I could hardly appreciate the Pacific Ocean as I walked past it (I hear its roar every second) for a couple of days. It’s such a waste, really, when I SO looked forward to seeing it everyday.

I looked up for several seconds to stand in awe of that rainbow — to thank God for another day, and a new hope. The rainbow didn’t stay visible for long, but I managed to take a decent photo of it.

For me, that rainbow spelled “HOPE”. Even if that hope is short-lived, it is still hope.

It is hope that will sustain me in the coming days, as I wait for my husband to return.

It is hope that things will get better where I am now.

It is hope that a clear answer will come to our heartfelt prayers.

It is hope that we can let go when necessary — without looking back in regret.

I pray fervently for HOPE. Please, give us hope.