<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761</id><updated>2011-11-27T15:33:15.757-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ShellBreakers</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>7</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-2341972969124608112</id><published>2008-05-07T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-07T11:17:23.884-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Standing up on the inside</title><content type='html'>Maybe there are people around you who are always trying to put you down, perhaps mistreating you. Even trying to make you feel badly about yourself. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Let that trash talk to go in one ear and out the other.&lt;/span&gt; They may knock you down on the outside, but they &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;can't knock you down on the inside.&lt;/span&gt; Don't let those people steel your joy. Don't let that problem or adversity cause you to become discouraged. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Just keep 'standing up' on the inside.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-2341972969124608112?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/2341972969124608112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=2341972969124608112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2341972969124608112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2341972969124608112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/05/standing-up-on-inside.html' title='Standing up on the inside'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-8240533593638119825</id><published>2008-05-02T08:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T08:55:37.825-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You don't have to "fight" if you like ice hockey</title><content type='html'>I was talking with a friend one day about ice hockey. I said it was the one professional team sport that when in the post season playoffs it's not uncommon for the eighth-seeded team (lowest) can defeat a top-seeded team. He said well every team gets into the playoffs. I said that is not true. He then said one can't see all the action on TV, whereas, in person you can. I replied that on TV the camera takes you into the corners of the rink that are blind spots in person. We allowed each other to express ourselves in a calm matter-of-fact way. It was a great feeling to except each others opinion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-8240533593638119825?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/8240533593638119825/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=8240533593638119825' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/8240533593638119825'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/8240533593638119825'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/05/you-dont-have-to-fight-if-you-like-ice.html' title='You don&apos;t have to &quot;fight&quot; if you like ice hockey'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-5393197432924511316</id><published>2008-04-30T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T10:03:33.417-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Expressing myself without "losing it"</title><content type='html'>There were times in the past that when I was having a discussion, whether it was regarding politics, religion or even sports, I'd get emotional if I felt the other person(s) were so contrary to my feelings. This didn't happen very often, but when it did I felt like&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; you know what! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've now given myself time, thought and effort to handling these situations better on my part. This occurred on two separate occasions recently. In both instances, the other&lt;br /&gt;participants" had strong opinions regarding the topics we were discussing. In one, about college sports, this particular individual felt that one school had better student/athletes than their opponents, because he assumed his team had better grades and didn't get into any altercations while the student/athletes from the other school probably did. My response to him was that that's labeling  a group of people  without any proof and that in this country our belief that one is innocent till proven guilty. Especially, since there wasn't any indication of any wrong doing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-5393197432924511316?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/5393197432924511316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=5393197432924511316' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/5393197432924511316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/5393197432924511316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/04/expressing-myself-without-losing-it.html' title='Expressing myself without &quot;losing it&quot;'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-2951271693485447778</id><published>2008-04-17T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T09:04:54.574-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whew!</title><content type='html'>What I'm about to tell you is personal. Some might call it superstitious. Others may call it being obsessive  compulsive. I guess it depends on how you look at it. Anyway, I was watching a college  basketball game and the team  I was pulling for was behind. I reached for my cellphone to call a friend when I heard an inner voice say, if you use the phone now your team will lose. So, I placed the phone down and waited till the end of the game (thinking that by doing this the team I was pulling for would win). The result: not only did I not use the cellphone, but the team I was pulling for lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I considered this a relief, because it made me realize that I have no power over whether they won or lost. I learned I had no control over most outcomes outside of myself. It's not my life, but the lives of others who will determine their own outcome. It was an incredible relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-2951271693485447778?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/2951271693485447778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=2951271693485447778' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2951271693485447778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2951271693485447778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/04/whew.html' title='Whew!'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-6120452014015544963</id><published>2008-04-15T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T08:48:43.460-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes letting go is breaking some shells</title><content type='html'>My mom had an irreversible dementia. She lived in a nursing home for ten years. I was an only child so the responsibility of making sure that she was taken care of properly laid with me.  During that decade I saw my mom slip into another state of being. There were, obviously, numerous life experiences. Some quite sad and others humorous in a sad sort of way. I saw my daughter, about five at the time, wipe my moms face after eating. It was a spontaneous act. No fear of being near an ill person (no shells got in her way!). The human condition is an amazing thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of these experiences was the inevitable and you're never really prepared for it. One day I received a phone call from the nursing home. I was told that she was being taken to a hospital emergency room. When I got their,  an emergency room physician informed me that my mom had had a heart attack. She was moved to a hospital room. I met with two other doctors who discussed with me the available options for treating my mom. Heart surgery was one of them and they didn't know what the outcome would be. However, surgery or no surgery, they didn't think she would make it to the next day. It was my responsibility to make the decision of what to do. I didn't want my mom to suffer any longer. So there would not be any surgery. The doctors thought that I made the best choice for the situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though she never regained consciousness, not only did she make to the next day, she was with us for 11 more days. She slept most of the time. She passed away on the 12th quietly and peacefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I let go of my mom by opting not to have a surgery the doctors didn't know whether it would save her. I broke some shells.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-6120452014015544963?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/6120452014015544963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=6120452014015544963' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/6120452014015544963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/6120452014015544963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/04/sometimes-letting-go-is-reaking-some.html' title='Sometimes letting go is breaking some shells'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-2832717553148705048</id><published>2008-03-13T08:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T08:50:24.230-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought you had fallen off the face of the earth</title><content type='html'>Had a job interview. A little history about it. The process extended over a period of three months. The individual, that I was being interviewed by, felt that he couldn't pay me enough then found additional business he hadn't at first found. It gave him the impetus to interviews with other people in that company. After some emails from me as follow-up this individual responded and said to be patient. Finally, an offer was made at the original value, I verbally accepted. I was to receive an email  to confirm the position. What I received instead was a voicemail  at the end of the workday on Friday saying the budgeting for the position had been delayed and to call the following Monday or Tuesday. I did exactly what was requested by leaving a voicemal on that following Tuesday. That Friday, at the end of the day, once again I received a voicemail saying he hadn't received my voicemail till that day. Again, I was asked to call the following Monday or Tuesday. I did leave another voicemail as requested. I had a gut feeling that this was going nowhere. About 4 weeks later this same individual left me a message wondering what had happened to me...had I "fallen off the face of the earth". The next day I returned the call and after saying hello I said "I thought &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; had fallen off the face of the earth". This person tried to lay blame on me and when I went over the some of   things that took place during this 3-month interview process, I said I wouldn't take any blame for this process. "Don't lay blame on me and I won't lay blame on you".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-2832717553148705048?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/2832717553148705048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=2832717553148705048' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2832717553148705048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/2832717553148705048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-thought-you-had-fallen-off-face-of.html' title='I thought you had fallen off the face of the earth'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3441740711216743761.post-6178245556346408774</id><published>2008-03-08T15:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T13:39:12.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Breaking the Shells</title><content type='html'>This has been a longtime coming. The fact that it's online seems logical. Journaling, diaries, letters and just notes helps us to remember our thoughts, ideas, etc.&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is dedicated to those of us (I imagine there are many) who have tiptoed through many moments of our lives. Walking on eggshells is what I like to call them. Sometimes it's necessary, like when a child is sleeping or in a library or talking on your cellphone on a bus or someplace where there are other people who shouldn't be disturbed. To those folks who find it very challenging to remain silent in certain situations when what we really feel like doing is saying your piece. The reason for remaining silent might be is that if we say what's on our minds, we might spew those thoughts out the way they 'sound' in our minds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3441740711216743761-6178245556346408774?l=shellbreakers.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/feeds/6178245556346408774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3441740711216743761&amp;postID=6178245556346408774' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/6178245556346408774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3441740711216743761/posts/default/6178245556346408774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://shellbreakers.blogspot.com/2008/03/breaking-shells_08.html' title='Breaking the Shells'/><author><name>Dear Reader,</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03011184219144582031</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
