Sunday Confessional: Putting off my Packing...& my blog post

I have been in a moving funk.  You all know what I'm talking about.  I am of the firm belief that nobody should be inside when the sun is shining and they could be out enjoying it, especially after the long winter we've had.  Yet I found myself indoors quite a bit these past few weeks.  Leaving my apartment has me in one of those moods in which I'm sad to be leaving; not yet quite ready to go.  Conversely, there are most definitely days I can't wait to leave!  It was a good decision to move and one which ultimately will prove to be beneficial.

Moving is less about the external location of the space, in fact, I would say that it is all about the interior.  I love the space I created.  Yet, I have 1 day left before I clear everything out.  The next 24 hours will loom over my head with anticipation before I have to uproot myself again.  I'll get there, I'm sure, but I'd like one more day to enjoy it the way it is.  It may not seem like much, but I'm happy with the space I created.  I've been consciously & subconsciously waiting as long as possible to box it all up.  But alas, it's time!

Moving forward.

Cheers!

Sunday Confessional: Mourning

This is probably my most intimate, private, real Sunday Confession yet, but I'm okay with sharing my experience because I want to talk about my Nonna.  Her great grandchildren are still learning some Italian from those of us who outlived her, and they hear loads of stories about her.  The following is one story, though, that is bittersweet.  I have talked about most of the contents of this post with my family already.  We all miss my grandmother, but I might have taken her passing the hardest.

I think I'm done, but I've come to the realization before that I'm just not done yet.

Every time I think I've let go, something sets me off again.

My Nonna died over a year ago.  I'm not done mourning yet.  I don't know if I'll ever be.

I watched a movie earlier this month in which a family was bidding farewell to a girl who was on her death bed and couldn't speak.  I handled it well up until the very end when they said it was important to say goodbye, and to let her know that it was okay to die.  Well, I lost it.

I moved out of my parents' house shortly after my Nonna died.  I said that I moved out because I needed my own space, and so did they.  They were encroaching on my space with all of the stuff they had to sort through from Nonna's and the renovation.  If I am being honest, though, with myself and all of you, the real reason I had to get out of the house is because I couldn't stand to be around my mother every day so soon after losing Nonna.  I feel bad saying so, but I had been harboring some anger towards her.  Maybe anger is the wrong word, but I would look at her and see this strong woman whom I had seen at her weakest point, on the saddest day imaginable.  The feeling associated with watching her wait for her mother, my Nonna, to die was stuck in the forefront of my mind.

When my Nonna was sick, it was my Aunt's job to keep her paperwork in order, track Nonna's ever-changing list of medications and ailments, and keep her fed.  My mother helped when she could, but just couldn't handle seeing her mother ill so she never visited for very long.  In general, my Aunt was there for a few minutes as well, maybe an hour, and would mostly talk to doctors, nurses, and administrators.  My mother came by to help where and when she could, similarly mostly talking to doctors, nurses, and administrators.  That's the way they coped, by keeping her better.  That was very important.  I was angry, though, that they never stayed and spent a lot of quality time with their mother.  In retrospect, that was wrong of me to be so upset.  There was a bit of a duality to the situation; I was also glad for the times when they left me there to just hang out with Nonna, and glad that they dealt with the doctors and nurses so that I didn't have to most of the time.  Regardless of the good times I spent with my grandmother, I couldn't shake the feeling of anger toward my Aunt and my mother's way of interacting with my Nonna until a long while after she passed.

My anger probably stemmed from the fact that the rest of my family would talk about how ill Nonna was, and about dementia and stuff.  Sometimes I acted as though I was in denial, but I knew she wouldn't be around forever, and I was generally okay with death.  I was more concerned with life.  So, I would read to my Nonna and pray in Italian.  When I thought she wasn't listening to me any longer, I would trail off, but she would perk up and ask me why I had stopped.  She comprehended more than I did sometimes, actually.  Sure, she had forgetful moments, and we had to keep her in line about the day of the week, but she was present.  Nonna never got to a point where she didn't know who the current president was or who we were.  She just didn't remember that she had told me something earlier that day already or taken her medications and stuff.  Maybe my family was trying to be realistic, and I saw that as pessimistic because I just try to look at everything in a positive way.  That can be frustrating to some people, especially if they are trying to prepare for death.

Either way, my Nonna's last day on Earth was the worst day of my life, to date.  I couldn't handle it.  Mostly, I couldn't handle my mother crying and telling her mother that it was okay to let go.  Incessantly.  All day.  Apparently the doctor had put the idea in her head that telling Nonna that it was okay to let go was a good thing, but I hated it.

I hope that my children don't tell me "it's okay" [to die].  I've known ever since I was a child that it would be okay to die.  Death doesn't scare me.  It would piss me off more than anything to have my children gather around when I can't communicate back to tell me that it would be okay if I kicked the bucket that day!

I didn't have the energy to do more than protest once or twice, so I sat there miserably saying nothing for most of the day.  I was a wreck myself.  I actually crawled into my Nonna's bed with her at one point, curling up next to her in the hospital bed, holding her nearly limp hand.  Nonna had her gaze fixed on the wall/ceiling, and she needed help breathing because of the drugs they had her on to help ease her passing.  It was painful to watch.  My mother told me that Nonna saw her grandmother that morning, so it probably wouldn't be long before she joined her.

Nonna hung on longer than most of the family thought she would.  I swear, she was a totally different person around me than with anyone else, too.  One time, months after Nonna was in the ICU recovering from resuscitation, and probably 6 months to a year before she died, she was hospitalized for something or other that caused doctors much concern.  Her internal body temperature became very cold and the family had all but decided that they were ready to let her die.  At the time, I thought that they were cold and rude to speak so openly about my Nonna's condition like that.  If I ever get sick, I hope nobody talks about putting me on hospice or whatever without including me in some conversation about it first.  But, they did, and she knew it.

Nonna didn't want to be a vegetable.  We had talked about it when she was well.  I don't know if anyone else ever asked her, but we were close like that, Nonna and I.  She didn't want to be artificially kept alive.  She was a wise, spunky woman.  But, she wasn't ready to go yet at that time, even if nobody else knew it yet.

When everyone was gathered around her room talking, she was still as a corpse, but once the last straggler left, she nearly jumped out of bed and began planning her escape.  I remember her saying "Cait-a-lynn, they're-a-gonna kill me!  Let's get outta here."  If I wasn't there, she would've fallen flat on her face with those muscle engagement things strapped around her ankles.  She was determined to escape.

On her last day, Nonna wasn't really there until everyone else was gone.  You could tell by her fixed gaze, and just her overall energy of the room.  She couldn't speak with the breathing tube in her mouth, but shortly before I left, she became aware, probably for the last time.  She looked up at me and told me that she loved me [with her eyes].  She was a little manic and scared, but I just told her that it was okay.  I couldn't tell her that it was okay to die like my mother and my Aunt had been saying all day, but she knew what I meant.

She lived a wonderful life, my Nonna.  At the end, Nonna didn't leave behind much in this world but her children, grandchildren, and great grand children.  She did a wonderful job raising each of us, though, and I'm sure she smiles at us every day.  I miss her, but as the cycle of life continues, I will meet her again one day when it's time for me to go.  Until then, I'm going to use my time on this earth to spread the Love and Laughter that she filled my heart with.

Ciao, bella!

Question #11

I started off a few months ago with an activity of getting to know [and love] myself better, and also have a little fun, by asking myself a few simple questions.  To find out more about the backstory behind what brought me to this game of 20 Questions (which is actually 36 questions, based on the New York Times article To Fall in Love with Anyone, Do This), click on one of these links.  I am not going to post all of my answers (many of these are quite personal in nature), but many are just fun, thought-provolking questions.  Feel free to leave your answers in the comments section!

In doing this activity, I got stuck at Question #11:
Take 4 minutes (or pages in my case) to explain your life story in as much detail as possible.

This is not an easy task to accomplish.  I realized through four small pages what life events I considered noteworthy, and which did not make the cut.  In four pages, it was humbling and slightly disturbing to see so plainly how I view my childhood, and what things I chose to include and exclude from my summary.  I missed some pretty significant life events, and I wasted a few words telling a seemingly meaningless story about a small detail.  I got to thinking how others might answer this question, and how our versions of our childhood story is so indicative of how we view our lives.

I was discussing many things with a dear friend on our Road Trip this week, including our childhood, relationships, places we have visited, language, and general interests.  It is both amusing and quite telling how our personal views of our childhood can shape all of the other aspects of our life.  Whether we struggled or had things easy, were rich or poor, traveled or were sedentary, played sports or an instrument of some sort, we all use our childhood either as an instructional tool for living our lives or as a reminder of why we need to do something different as adults.  As adults, we all figure out which parts of our childhood we would like to retain and recreate, and which ones we would rather shed, forget about, or otherwise alter.

For example, I did not do any traveling until I was in my twenties.  This is something I discovered that I cannot live without as an adult.  It is so important for me to change up my scenery to allow for some distance of my mind and spirit from the attachments I have made.  My friend, let's call her Elsy, is a bit older than I am, but she is figuring out which aspects of her life she would like to retain and which she would like to shed, just like I am.  She is also quite fond of travel, and has done it much more often than I have, but that was part of her childhood she remembers fondly.

I find it intriguing that, as beings, we change our views about life and our habits, but our interests often remain similar in theme.  Sure, we gain and lose interest in some things throughout our lives, but our passions and true personalities often remain the same.  I'm glad to have recognized many of my passions early in life.  I am constantly learning new things about myself, but I have always had a pretty firm grasp of who I am.

This brings me to a central topic of my week/month/year which was epitomized through a Joseph Campbell quote:

"We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."

Many of us get so swept up in life and in making plans for the next day/month/year that we sometimes don't see the things right in front of us which inspire our passions.  A child who is inspired by music would more likely stop to watch a street musician, maybe dancing or singing along with them, while an adult would be more likely to pass by so as to keep to a tight schedule.  This is obviously a highly simplified example of letting go of our plans to enjoy what life has laid in front of us, but it is one of my favorites because I still stop for the street musicians.  I have met a few very cool, talented individuals that way.

Applications on a broader scale include things like having unplanned children and job opportunities.  This reminds me also of another quote along the same lines as the first.  I find them both extremely fitting for this week.  The saying goes like this:

"If you want to make God laugh, tell him your future plans."

From what I've read, Woody Allen came up with this line, but a similar theme can be found in a Yiddish Proverb, among other places.  This theme of being open to life as it happens seems to be one of those "secrets" shared amongst a club of successful people who have been shouting their secret from the rooftops so that the rest of the world may share in their wealth.  I don't know about you, but I'm excited for the direction my life is going in!  I have been trying to keep some flexible yet ambitious goals in mind, and I can't wait to discover where they lead.

Message of the Day:  Let go of any rigid plans you have for yourself.  Life is messy; embrace your opportunities as they come.

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!

Online Dating

The internet.  Can't live with it, can't live without it.

For many, we embrace the internet as something we live with, something we sleep with (how many people really turn off their phones before they go to sleep anymore?), and something we truly can't live without.

The internet is a great resource.  However, socially, we might be much happier if we stopped living our lives online.  I write a blog, who am I to talk, right?  I'm not saying that we shouldn't use social media; the internet is a great tool, both for communication with friends and sharing information quickly with the masses.  However, we should live our lives in the real world, and share those experiences online (ie. don't miss out on what is going on around us because we're in the virtual world).

Living in the single world for a while, I have realized that most people are or have been on some sort of dating site.  That is totally bizarre to me, since I get bent out of shape when friends even try to "set me up."  So, I find it totally odd that some people find strangers online and somehow become an item.  Someone's pictures can tell you a little bit about them, but you miss out on a giant piece of them when they can't look at you and you can't look back: their soul!  You miss out on their body language (which is, arguably, 90% of all that we say), you miss out on their smells, and their overall presence.

The last 3 guys I've dated didn't have Facebook accounts.  I thought this was just a coincidence; it doesn't really have much to do with who I look for or why, it just happened that way.  I don't much care for "coincidences," though.  Maybe I should recognize that I tend to choose to date men who live their lives in the real world as opposed to the virtual one.  Conversely, men who are on their phones the entire evening tend to turn me off.  Anyhow, I met all of these men through mutual friends or chance encounters.  I've never had a Tinder/Match/[insert other dating app/site here] account.

You know that feeling you get when a relationship starts feeling "not quite right?"  You begin to think that you're just not the same as you once were.  Maybe your feelings have changed.  Once upon a time, I found out that my last boyfriend was on Tinder.  It was right after we had broken up, but it bothered me more than I let on at the time.  Sometimes people assume that it's "harmless" or that just "checking [the website/app] out" is fine, but it's not.  If you DON'T delete your Tinder/Match/Zoosk/[insert site/app here] when you've started dating someone (or create one while you're in a relationship), it's really not okay.  It has become SO easy to search the internet for millions of other people to interact with, that we have so many other 'options' at our fingertips.  So, the next time you go on an awesome date, take away the temptation.  Delete your accounts.  I dare you.  You can always create them again later if the real world isn't cutting it for you.

If we take the initiative by taking away the extra temptation of shopping around for other potential dates, then we have to actually face our problems (or go about things the old fashioned way by buying a drink at the bar and spilling our feelings to a stranger - in person).

Either way (in the real world or the virtual one), we have 2 options when we have problems in our relationships.  We can talk about it with our partner, or we can ignore that feeling.  People go about each in different ways, but we have made it so easy in this day and age to ignore our problems and distract ourselves or mentally move on without talking about it until it's too late.  If we choose distraction over communication, it usually means doom for the relationship.  Avoiding one another often seems easier than working things out.  Every social media outlet out there has made it so easy to justify that there will always be someone 'better' than whomever you're with, but just remember that the people we are on the internet are not the people we are in real life.  On the internet (and even via text), we have filter after filter after filter.  We can edit the words we say, we don't have to use body language or inflection which reveal that we are tired or scared or happy or sarcastic, we can post/share photos of ourselves after we've 'cleaned up' (ie. I never have to see a photo of what you currently look like if you don't want me to).

Hint: 99% of the above applies to all relationships, not just our romantic ones.

In my "social circle":

- Planning a time to meet/socialize puts you on my list of top favorite people.

- Calling me trumps texting, every time.
- If you Skype me, I'm tickled pink; it takes a bit of effort, but I can actually see you!

- Privately Snapchat/texting me trumps tagging me on Facebook.

- Posting something thoughtful on Facebook is a great way to express yourself, but please ask yourself if it's really meant for every stranger out there on the internet!

- Replying to a photo/caption of mine on Facebook means that you were either bored or you took the time to 'stalk me,' which is an acceptable amount of effort these days (and aligns with the reason I shared it in the first place).  Thanks for noticing.

...and

- Knocking on my door to pop in and say hello will always make my day!

Readers, what would your model of preferred communication look like?

Message of the day: Social Media is great, but I'd much rather you call me and invite me to lunch than share a photo of your balogna sandwich with me!

...Or don't.  (I don't like balogna, either!)  Cheers!

Taxes: Done!

I skipped my Sunday Confessional yesterday to finish up my taxes after work.  It was an exhausting week, and I'm sure next week will be even more tiring, but my taxes are done!  That makes the year a little better.  The government will be sending me a check in 4-6 weeks.  Yay for tax season [being over]!

Message of the Day:  Just get them done.  You'll feel so much better.

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!

Moving Cost

I'm moving out of my apartment in approximately 22 days...

Still recovering from an injury, I don't want to mess up my shoulder again by lifting heavy boxes.  But I need to move.  My parents already have to rearrange their space, and neither of them can really lift at the moment.  So, I figured that I would hire someone with a big truck to help me.  Well, I found out exactly how expensive that would be.  Once you add up the large furniture from a few "rooms," there is a lot that I need help with.

The cost?  It's pretty much another month's rent.  I'm trying to SAVE money by moving, not spend a ton of extra money.  Still, I was willing to pay the cost of moving to save some cash long term.  That is, until my friends heard about this plan.

I kid you not, within 48 hours of figuring out that I had to shell out some steep moving costs, three friends offered to help me out.  I responded with "I feel bad, because I can't really lift anything heavy," and my friend (we'll call her Elsy) said "That's what friends are for!"  So cliche, I know, but she is totally right!  If Elsy needed help or support, I would totally be there, so why feel bad asking her to help me out?  After that boost of confidence, I felt okay asking my strong young male friends for their help as well, and to my pleasant surprise, they jumped at the notion of helping me move.  I am so grateful to have such wonderful friends!

This is such a relief because I was dreading the whole moving process.  I moved about 5 times last year for a variety of reasons, only once or twice with heavy furniture, but I did most of them by myself.  It was exhausting.  Moving won't be so bad this time around, though.  I have a great group of friends who stepped up and offered to move my large furniture for me for the cost of some good food and cheerful company!  ...AND there are some other folks who are on board with a moving out party on short notice, so I actually get to celebrate this time!

Message of the Day:  Need help?  Ask a friend!

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!

Unity.

.... ....

Sometimes it takes the proper environment to have a really great meditation.  In the past few weeks, I've been staying true to my goal of creating better Habits, and I have been having better and better meditations.  I usually meditate by myself, but group meditations can be very powerful.  Sometimes having someone to guide you acts as an additional focusing tool, and it can produce some amazing results.  The best mediations I've had are either in front of a mirror (I'll post about this later), and at a yoga studio with an experienced yogini guiding a meditation "class."

Last week, I experienced the most beautiful mediation.  I'm not including a photo here because I'd like you to visualize what I did during my meditation without any preconceived images, like reading the book instead of watching the film.

My inner child has been suppressed lately, unable to play in the ways that I would like to.  Going perhaps deeper into that theme, my highest self has been out of touch.  We all strive to be our best selves, but sometimes we don't allow parts of ourselves that are aching to be heard out of the deepest corners of our minds because we aren't ready to deal with them, or we view them as bad and would rather forget about them.  Sometimes we actually do forget that versions of ourselves longing to be heard are calling out for us in our minds.  I'm a Gemini, so I joke with folks who know what that means that the twins in my brain are fighting at the moment whenever I'm having internal conflicts.  Really, though, we all have internal conflicts.  I give them [each of my internal battles] personas.  That is what they are, really.  When they are in harmony, my mind is at peace.  When life is troubling me, I often feel as though I am being pulled in different directions.

Imagine for a moment a playground.  School is out, but it is full of people of varying ages.  There is a younger girl visiting with her mom who is on the swings.  She is shy, and scared to play for fear of being hurt because all the older kids are much bigger.  One child is crying over something trivial; she is older, so you know that she is probably having a rough day and something just set her off.  A pair of mothers are walking around the track, keeping a distant watch over their children while they get in some social time and a healthy workout.  A few teenage girls are sitting in a circle passing cell phones and doing the social media thing, laughing and having a good time.  They are all in their own little worlds, unbothered by the interactions happening around them.

Now imagine that these ladies are all aware of one another.  Let's take that one step further.  Imagine they actually know one another.  Maybe they are sisters, mothers, daughters, cousins, and close family friends.  The entire scene changes.  The teenagers stand up and walk over to the little girl who is crying.  She just needed someone to hold her hand, maybe to give her a hug and some advice from her peers/elders.  Next, the group migrates toward the shy youngster on the swings.  They all decide to play a game suitable for a small child, and once the little girl warms up to the idea, they begin to laugh and run about.  The little girl lights up, and even her mom joins in as they all hold hands in a big circle.  Lastly, the moms, who were trying to be efficient with their time, see the fun their kids are having and make their way into the circle to join hands.  The entire playground full of people is now laughing and dancing in a circle together.

This is what happened to the personas in my mind a few days ago.  It was beautiful.  Ever since I did a meditation on healing about six months ago, I began viewing my perceived flaws, injuries, and otherwise less than perfect parts of myself as friends.  It allowed me to change the conversations I had with myself from "my knee isn't cooperating" and "this head cold is so annoying" to "Hey there, knee; what can I do to make you feel better?" and "I'm sorry you feel like you're underwater, sinuses, please tell me when I move too fast.  I'll listen."  Simple things like that have morphed into even broader issues, which now take on their own personalities.

Picture the playground once more.  Imagine that the shy child is a woman who suffered a lot of loss and doesn't want to open up to those around her.  Now imagine that she (or he) is the part of you afraid of getting hurt.  If the part of you afraid of being hurt works with the positive, outgoing, friendly customer service worker in you, and the overworked part of you works with the part of you that does yoga (or runs or lifts weights), you may find that even the observers of your mind (the circling moms) can't help but join in on the party that arises from all parts working together.

Message of the Day:  Grant every part of your being an audience with your attention.  Sometimes that's all they seek.

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!

Easter Sunday!

I'm skipping my Sunday Confessional this week.  It's Easter!  Easter is a time to celebrate.

It's the first Easter since my grandfather's passing (not the first holiday, though).  The last holiday we did at my Aunt's (his daughter's house).  We get together as one big family every holiday, but now that us kids have grown up, Easter is just a good meal & good conversation that can happen any time.  I believe it's time to start some new traditions.  My Aunt made the call that she will be going to her in-law's for Easter, and we went to spend Easter with the other side of my family.  I'm SO glad!

You see, Easter in America is a holiday meant for children.  Anyone can receive a present, but usually it is the kiddos who search for Easter eggs.  My cousin on the other side of the family has two adorable (loud, obnoxious, full of energy, totally sweet & huggable) children.  I enjoyed hanging out at the kids' party today!

Our day began dancing around the living room in our Easter dresses to some fun music.  Then the guys came home from their bike ride and it turned into running around the living room & jumping on one of those bean bag couches.  Before the other guests arrived, we helped set the table.  Sadly, I didn't make photographs of it, but me and my little cousin made the table settings with place cards and pretty ribbons.  It was adorable!

Best of all, there were ten of us sharing a meal, swapping stories, and laughing.  There was so much good food (we're Italian, after all), and lots of laughter.  We invented new words, new meanings for existing words, busted out in song, and were just overall pretty silly.  That's my idea of a perfect afternoon.  Oh, and then we all went for a bike ride!  What could be better?

I cherish the great days in life, and this was one of them!

Message of the Day:  Start new traditions.

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.
Cheers!  Happy Easter!

Moving: It's official

Well, it's official.  I'm moving out of my apartment.  In 27 days, it will no longer be mine.

I have had so much fun decorating it over the past year, but it's time to move!  I'm having separation anxiety already; I fell in love with the space.  Here are some photos I have taken of my humble abode:

It might be a culture shock having a television again when I move back home, and I will definitely have to get used to the whole roommate/parents thing again!  Overall, it will be a good thing though.  This is a blog about positivity, so I won't tell you about my landlord.  Despite the drama, which I won't get into, the space itself is pretty cool.  I've made it my own.  I keep gazing around the room with the knowledge that soon it will look very different, and it makes me want to use the space in the ways I envisioned when I first got here again.  I plan on staying until the very last day.  Actually, I have to move the furniture before then, but I will definitely be using the space as my own personal yoga/art studio until the last possible moment!

Message of the Day:  Be present in each day, for change is inevitable.
...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!

Integration is Key

Getting back into yoga these past few weeks, I have noticed and begun to appreciate so much more about my body than I have in a long time.  It is amazing how much getting back into the swing of things happens so organically.  At times, it feels as though I never left, and other times I notice things about my posture that weren't there before.  Playing with my poses on the mat allows me to figure out how my body naturally wants to move.  This helps in real life.

Since I got back on my mat, I have been pretty confident about staying true to my body, and modifying when I need to.  Many yogis, including myself, challenge themselves to push themselves further and further, but yoga is really about listening to your body, and dialing it back is what serves me best at the moment.

I have been extra careful about re-injury, but it's time to stop babying myself.  I'm ready!  So, I was working with my physical therapist on my yoga posture the other day, making sure that I was in  alignment in my practice.  I wanted to make absolutely sure that I'm working the right muscle groups so that I don't do something dangerous trying to be superwoman (or a beautiful warrior) on my mat.  Surprisingly, he only had a couple of pointers for me.  I don't know why I was so surprised.  I have been doing yoga for over seven years now and I have had some really great teachers in that time, but I took a long break from my practice so I assumed that I would be rusty.  I have to pay extra attention, and things feel different than before, but I know what I'm doing.

When my PT was working with me off the mat, he was beginning to use yogic terms (starting with things like "lunge," but also "malasana," and "mountain") while relating them to everyday activities.  Putting into practice off the mat everything I've learned through yoga about proper alignment and posture gives me the tools to conquer life with ease.  Keeping the alignment tips and adjustments I learned this week in mind, I feel confident that I can be a graceful warrior, both on and off my mat!

Message of the Day: Take a holistic approach to your challenges; it may ease your struggle.

...Or don't.  It won't change my reality.  Cheers!