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16Jan

 

Spinning!

There’s the good kind.

The Tilt-a-whirl, if you’re a ride person like me.

The salad spinner my daughter Kath swears by.

The cycling class my daughter Laura loves.

Then there’s the bad sort of spinning.

The car that does a 180 on an icy road.

The roulette wheel if you’re a compulsive gambler.

The bout of vertigo that knocked me flat last winter.

And there’s another kind of spinning that can be good or bad.

Mind spinning.

A spinning mind is great when you’re working on an invention or plans to redo the family room or a Jeopardy question, but when your mind spins with worry or anger or self-doubt, it’s the pits.

A few years ago, I read an article that said women tend to let a problem spin and spin, which can lead to some pretty miserable days and nights and sometimes weeks, months, and years.  Men, on the other hand, let the problem tumble in their brain for a shorter amount of time, solve it or come to terms with it, and then give it the old heave ho.

Hmm.

That’s an “admit the men might be right in this area” kind of hmm.

Menopausal moodiness can turn a girl into an unhappy top.  It’s like the hormones jump onto the thoughts, and together, they go round and round and round and round, and they don’t know how to …

STOP!

To those of you not there yet or in the midst, beware the spinning top!  Even if you can’t stop it, you can sometimes slow it down by recognizing that menopausal moodiness exacerbates negative and troublesome thoughts.

Meditation, exercise, rest,engaging conversations, meaningful work and projects, and happy diversions can help.  And then there’s always a cold beer with a male buddy in a funky pub.  (Well the pub doesn’t actually have to be that funky.)

Ask him if his mind ever twirls ad infinitum with negative and worrisome thoughts.  If he says, “No,” offer to buy him another beer and see if he’ll share a few testosterone laced trade secrets.  Do let us know!

The Top: When I was a little girl, my great-aunt kept just a few toys at her house.  They toys lived there;  my brother  and I were not allowed to bring them home.  My favorite was this Mickey Mouse top. When I grew up, I got brave enough to ask her for it.  Now it’s one of my finest treasures, rusty spots and all.

 

  

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