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ISSUE 976 - MARCH 2023
A NEW FACE AT SNIPPETZ by Vivian Cobb, DTM I met Ronald Ross at a Toastmasters District Contest a hundred years ago. Well, maybe it was 2018, but doesn't anything before Covid feel like a hundred years ago? It does to me. He lived North of Denver (he has since moved to Indiana), and I live in Colorado Springs (70 miles South of Denver), so an in-person Ron sighting was a welcomed yet rare event. Our paths crossed a handful of times because we ran in the same wanna-be-a-speaker circles. But, truth be known, thanks to the modern social media age in which we currently live, he sees me all the time. He follows me on Facebook, and as a result, he pretty much knows in detail all about my travels, my children, my dreams, my aspirations, my heartbreaks, my victories, and anything else I'm willing to share. As you can see, I share a lot! When trying to be known, as I am trying to be known, one must consistently and diligently post on social media, or at least that's what the 'get known' gurus say. Last week, I got an out-of-the-blue call from Ron. He told me he has written a column for Snippetz for the past two decades and wants to retire. He's a direct, no-nonsense kind of guy, and this question came out quickly, bypassing all small talk, "Would you like to take over the column?". He continued explaining that he loves what I post on Facebook and thought I would be the perfect choice to fill his retiring shoes. Dare I say he's a fan? He might agree with that. I'll have to ask him. One thing is for sure, he thought of me first, called me, and here I am, introducing myself—hi, I'm Vivian Cobb. Welcome to my column, Vivieisms. My dear friend, Susan, told me just the other day to not hurry past an open window of opportunity. No one can argue that this opportunity is definitely a widow opened and presented to me by Ron Ross. Not to be boastful (well, maybe a little), but I've had quite the trials and tribulations in my life. That being said, they have always been followed by my having great insights and a great deal of personal growth. In other words, I have accumulated much wisdom in the time I've been on this earth, and because I'm a speaker, I'm not shy about sharing that wisdom, whether it be on stage, in videos, and now in written form for this column. I will share my scattered thoughts on various subjects and let you inside the mind of a woman who has been there and back, and then there and back again. Because of the many trips through the vast forest of adversity, I have come to call myself an emotions advocate. As wack-a-doodle as all of this may sound, I promise you it's not. It will make more sense as we go along this column writing and reading journey together. Stay tuned as I share stories that will cause curiosity, be thought-provoking, and primarily entertain you. That is undoubtedly the goal, anyway. I'll do my best. I want to thank Ron Ross again for handing me the reigns, and a huge thank you to George Wilkins for giving me a chance to be a part of his publication. ©2023 Vivian Cobb, DTM ISSUE 977 - APRIL 2023
ZOOM, ZOOM by Vivian Cobb, DTM My Toastmasters' club meets every Thursday at 7:00 a.m. That statement is now literal, thanks to Zoom. I don't know about you, but ever since this pandemic has "slacked off," I feel like I've been on Zoom more than I was during the height of the pandemic. We are supposedly going back to in-person, but I'm on Zoom twice as much as I am attending non-electronic face-to-face get-togethers (it’s gotten very complicated, hasn’t it?). Being a relationship, look-in-your-real-eyes kind of girl, I dislike it immensely. In the good old days, when our club followed District 11's snow policy, we would get a snow day if they got a snow day. Not any more. The same holds true with any other meeting scheduled for that would-be, should-be, snow day. Everybody jumps on Zoom. It's the immediate solution to NOT taking a day off that has been graciously granted by the weather gods. This sad truth stood out the other day as I was heading down to my office at 6:45 in the mornning. Zoom is so messing with the 'snow day' universal law, which is older than man’s existence (little known fact). Instead of enjoying my snuggly warm bed on that beautiful, peaceful snowy day, I got up. I had to put on my makeup and a decent shirt and do my hair. I’ve come to find out that ignoring proper protocols for South of the belly button is risky business. Needing to stand up suddenly and unexpectedly while on Zoom can happen, so always wear suitable pants. This may or may not be knowledge gathered from personal experience. Once upon a time, we accepted the gift of a snow day with great anticipation and appreciation because the benefits are many. One such benefit, strangely enough, is going outside and enjoying the snow! Once you leisurely un-snuggle yourself from bed, you put on layers and layers of clothes, lay down in the snow, and make angels (it’s an appropriate thank you to display snow angels to weather gods, don’t you think?). Or maybe a snowball fight is in order so that you can get that cold white stuff up your sleeves and down your neck. Let's not forget making new friends, literally. Making snowpeople and finding them the right accessories is always a favorite. Chatting with your neighbors as you shovel walkways and driveways is an excellent opportunity to learn about the latest neighborhood gossip. All of these community-building activities will only happen if we are NOT all in a meeting on Zoom! Snow days are a lucky surprise day off to catch up on life or just completely relax. The luxurious feeling of ‘found’ time to do whatever you want (starting a jigsaw puzzle is my choice) is truly a gift. Giving your kiddos your undivided attention, playing in the snow, or curling up in front of the fire with that book, is what snow days are all about. A needed break from your routine is like a mini-vacation in and of itself. I fear snow days may be a thing of the past. I certainly hope not. Several Thursday mornings this winter had inclement weather due to snow the previous night or wind chills below zero, conditions warranting a snow day. We gathered anyway. Curse you, Zoom! ©2023 Vivian Cobb, DTM ISSUE 978 - MAY 2023
RESIDING IN THE HOUSE OF COVID by Vivian Cobb, DTM This week, I recovered from my 3rd bout of Covid in 3 years. It wasn’t much more than a light cold with the sniffles and two days of fatigue. I was, however, ready for worse, and this is why. In March 2020, after four days of pushing my way through crippling exhaustion, the symptoms all over the news started catching my eye; extreme fatigue, body aches, high fever, coughing, and nausea. I had to wonder if I had this new disease called Covid19. I’m a high-energy girl. I never stop! But I did with Covid. It stopped me dead in my tracks. I laid still as humanly possible for eight days with a fever of 103. If I moved, the horrible coughing would start. My body shut down. Even watching television was too much for me, which seemed crazy, but now we know how much our brains are affected by the virus. Laying in my bed, barely moving, hour after hour, I had no choice but to travel within. For the first time in adulthood, I was still long enough to look at my life. I mean, really look at it. I did a thorough investigation, examining in detail my existence. I asked myself what I wanted the rest of my life to look like. On the 9th day, I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t breathe or wake up fully. My sons got me to the hospital. At the door, they were told to leave. I was whisked away. There was no time for goodbyes. It could have been the last time I saw them! I was put on an isolated floor, and I only saw the eyes of strangers for the next five days. I could hear them suit up in the anti-chamber, adorning their protective gear and courage. The city had just shut down days before. Remember how little we knew back then and how lethal the first strains of Covid were? I was grateful they were brave enough to come in, even if only for a few minutes, to check on me. I wasn’t ventilated. I took a positive turn toward recovery. Although I lost my hair and had a year of cognitive challenges, I still consider myself one of the lucky ones. Being so sick with Covid was an incredibly profound experience and consequently has changed the trajectory of my life. My motivation for how I wanted to live my life going forward changed. My forgotten dreams resurfaced and became my focus instead of being pushed aside by excuses. Relationships changed. My perspective, choices, mindset, and attitude changed. What is meaningful in my life became very clear to me. Interestingly, this week is the same week I returned from the hospital three years ago. As I lay in my bed, not because I was trying not to move for fear of causing an excruciatingly painful coughing fit, but because I needed a nap, I remembered how different the last three years have been from my previous mode of operation. The changes I have made due to having Covid have been life-changing. I am now aligned with my purpose. The thoughts and considerations that held me back are gone. I am definitely one of the lucky ones. ©2023 Vivian Cobb, DTM ISSUE 979 - JUNE 2023
THE SWEET SPOT! by Vivian Cobb, DTM There is this sweet spot between shock and the onset of grief where humans tap into what is really important in this precarious and precious life. As a nation and global community, we have experienced catastrophic events that have made us pause collectively and share that sweet spot. We speak of it when we remember 911. We are already referring to it about the pandemic. As individuals, we all have those events in our lives as well. My latest was my only sibling, my sister, passed away suddenly and unexpectedly. There is nothing like a shocking event to jolt us back to what is meaningful and precious in life. That may be why they exist. We need reminders so what matters can shine through. We get so caught up in the superficial and relatively meaningless circumstances of our lives, and we convince ourselves they are much more important than they actually are. I got the news of my sister's death early in the morning and was on a plane by 5:00 pm. As I was at the airport, I was notified that my connecting flight out of Dallas was delayed by 2 hours, making my layover almost 4 hours. With that news, I called a dear friend in Dallas and asked if she could get me during my long layover so we could see each other. She agreed without hesitation. I knew she would be a comfort to me. The friends who drop everything to be there for us, to hold us up during the hardest moments of our life, are priceless. After our visit, she returned me to the airport. I was so grateful for her company and support. It was late; I was tired. It had already been quite the day. I wanted to reach my destination like all my fellow passengers. The time came when we were called to line up to board the flight. It was 12:00 am. We stood in line for about 15 minutes and then were informed they weren't ready for us and that we could sit down again. We then discovered our crew couldn't get into the airport because TSA had shut down for the night. No surprise what came next; they canceled the flight. It was now 1:00 am. I could have been losing my mind by this point. I was just as exhausted and inconvenienced as the others. But the opposite happened. I became calmer as I observed the people around me expressing their frustration and becoming more aggravated. It was surreal like I was standing in the middle of a tornado where it is perfectly still. People were angry. Their complaints mounted. And rightfully so. But they also became unkind, blaming and acting as if their worlds were shattering. What struck me was I, as an individual, was square in the middle of the sweet spot, thinking this is so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I wanted to stand up and ask, did your sister die today? After catastrophe hits, I wish humanity could stay in the sweet spot longer, remembering to stay kind. Individually, I hope my story reminds you to keep your perspective and remember to differentiate what is truly important from what is merely an inconvenience. ©2023 Vivian Cobb, DTM |
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