Cognitive Offloading

Anything that lightens your mental load is called cognitive offloading.  For example, if you are worried about waking up early, set an alarm.  There, now you can sleep.

If you have many tasks to perform, make a list.  Cross the tasks off one by one.

If you can't remember phone numbers, put them in your phone.

If you can't remember names, then associate the name with something: red hair, height, rhyming name, etc.  Put these associations on your phone.

Once you do something like this, your mind is free and can focus on your present situation, whether it's sleep or work.

BTW, I posit that it is this cognitive offloading that St. Anthony uses to help us find things. Once you ask for St. Anthony's intercession for help in finding something lost, you can relax. You've turned the problem over to someone else.  You're free of that worry.

That's when you remember where your lost object is.  God is clever.

Tony, Tony, please come down.

Something's lost and must be found.

Lamenting a Loss

I can see my Magnificat lying on the seat in the first pew.

No use praying to St. Anthony for my lost Magnificat.  Magnificat is a monthly magazine that has the readings for the daily masses for the month--plus much more of interest to the devout and pious person. I know where I lost it and I am never going back to that place again.  Besides, I'll get a new Magnificat, for next month.

So it's not the magazine, itself, that I'm lamenting.  It's the pictures and holy cards that I use as bookmarks.  There's a postcard of a Lithuanian shrine that I will never see again.  I know because I asked the clerk in the Lithuanian bookstore and he said he didn't have anymore and couldn't get anymore. 

I lost it at Holy Apostle Seminary's Chapel in Cromwell, Connecticut.  I was there Saturday for a Lay Dominican regional meeting.

I guess I'll have to start marking the November Magnificat with brand new holy cards and pictures.  

Cat Got Your Tongue?

Has the cat got your tongue?  It's an expression that is asking someone why they're not answering.  Well, my cat didn't have my tongue, he had my iPad.

I've been looking for my iPad for four days.  The last time I saw it, one of my grandchildren was playing a game on it.  I've been looking for it, ever since.

I'd hear it gong for the Angelus.  So three times a day, I'd be alert to listen from what direction the gong sound of the Angelus was coming from. It was in the living room, somewhere.  I dusted.  I vacuumed, lifting furniture.  I searched the bookcase.  I tore the room apart.

NADA!

I prayed to Saint Anthony:

Tony, Tony, please come down.
Something's lost and must be found.

Today I went to my Lay Dominican Chapter.  During the Intercessions in Evening Prayer, I asked that my iPad be found.  Afterward, one of my "cloistered brothers," suggested I go to the APPLE website and have them find it.  I said, "How can they find it?"  He said they'd "ping it."

Not quite.  But he offered me hope.

I have an iPhone. The iPhone and iPad are compatible since they are both Apple products.  I asked Siri, on my iPhone to find my iPad.

Up popped a map of my location.  I saw my street and neighboring streets.  Near the end of my street was a house.  It was my house!  Near my house was a blinking target circle.

Ah, my iPad! At first, I thought it was in my car, outside.  But as I walked through my house, the blinking target moved closer.  Soon the house and target were one. I was in the living room.  But I had looked there...everywhere...but NOT the cat's blanket.

I had never touched that dirty blanket full of cat hair.  But when I picked it up, VOILA!

Deus Gratias!

And thanks to St. Anthony's intercession which prompted me to add the loss of my iPad to the Evening Prayer's intercessions.  And thanks to my "cloistered brother" who suggested that I go to  Apple.  And thanks again St. Anthony for having Siri find the location.  Finally, thanks, Saint Anthony for prompting me to pick up the cat's blanket.

I feel like throwing a party.  (Luke 15: 8-10)