April 2013 BrainBuzz Newsletter
Blog    Facebook Page   Twitter  LinkedIn sheilaglazov.com


Are you "rependable"?
Unless you have participated in one of my What Color Is Your Brain?  
Programs, you will be wondering what "rependable" means. 

In 1997, a 5th grader named Eric created this splendid word when his class was reading my book Princess Shayna's Invisible Visible Gift. I enjoyed working with Eric's teacher, Sue Lewis, and regularly visited her classroom.

One day, as I entered his classroom,  Eric greeted me and exclaimed, "Mrs. Glazov, I am rependable!"

told Eric I had never heard that word before and my Green Brain was curious to know the definition. 

Image 1

Eric proudly said, "I am a Yellow Brainer and It means means I am responsible, respectful, accountable, and dependable."

 "I love your word!" I replied.  "May use it and always acknowledge you?"

"Yes!" Eric  answered excitedly. Since Eric shared "rependable" with me, I have used his word in all my programs and given Eric attribution for his creativity. When I wrote What Color Is Your Brain?, I wanted to give Eric written attribution. However, I am sorry to say that neither Mrs.Lewis, nor I, remembered Eric's last name.

Eric's creation is called neologism. His newly coined term "rependable" has not yet appeared in the dictionary. However, I think each Brain Color would attempt to find the definition in their own particular way:

Yellow Brainers would say, "There is no such word". Then they would search the dictionaries they own or call the library.

Blue Brainers would say, "What a creative idea." Then they would ask someone they know if they knew what the word meant.

Green Brainers would say, "What an innovative combination of words." However, they would research online to make sure what the definition was not in some obscure dictionary.

Orange Brainers would say, "What a clever expression!" They would not care about its origins and would have fun using the word.

Whether your Brain Color is Yellow, Blue, Green or Orange, feel free to use Eric's word.
Please, remember to give him attribution for his neologism... "rependable"!

Spring has arrived, it's time to let your kites and kids fly!
I love the metaphorical connection of kites and kids. The    following is a joyfully poetic explanation:

Children are like kites
Children are like kites.
You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground.
You run with them until you are both breathless.
They crash.
You add a longer tail or they hit the rooftop.

Image 2

You pluck them out of the spout.
You  patch and comfort, adjust and teach
You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that some day they can fly.

Finally, they are airborne.
But, they need more string and you keep letting it out.
And with each twist of the ball of twine, there is a sadness that goes with the joy;
Because the kite become more distant,
And somehow, you know that it will not be long,
Before that beautiful individual will snap the lifeline that bound you together,
And soar as an individual is meant to soar…
Free and Alone!

When it comes to helping the children in your life soar like a kite, the following Brain Color ideas will be helpful:

Yellow Brainers need clear and specific directions to fly their kite the right way

Blue Brainers enjoy sharing the kite experience with someone they love

Green Brainers like to fly their kites by themselves

Orange Brainers love the excitement and challenge of flying their kites
A "Blue Brain Thank You" to Antonia Nelson for sharing this lovely poem, which I read while waiting for my healing
Myofascial Release appointment in her office, a few years ago.

Have fun flying your Kites and watching your Kids fly!
Do you practice The Daffodil Principle?
The Daffodils are blooming and they reminded me of the following thought-provoking story, which is one of my favorites. It is rather long, but I promise, is worth your time.

The Daffodil Principle
Several times my daughter had telephoned to say. "Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over. We parked in a small parking lot adjoining a little stone church. From our vantage point at the top of the mountain we could see beyond us. In the mist, the crests of the San Bernardino  mountain range like the dark, humped backs of a herd of elephants. Far below us the fog-shrouded valleys, hills, and

Image 3

flat-lands stretched away to the desert. On the far side of the church I saw a pine-needle-covered path, with towering evergreens and manzanita bushes and an inconspicuous, hand-lettered sign “Daffodil Garden." We each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path as it wound through the trees. Then we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight, unexpectedly, and completely splendid.

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes where it had run into every crevice and over every rise. Even in the mist-filled air, the mountainside was radiant, clothed in massive drifts and waterfalls of daffodils. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety (I learned later that there were more than thirty-five varieties of daffodils in the vast display) was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue.

In the center of this incredible and dazzling display of gold, a great cascade of purple grape hyacinth flowed down like a waterfall of blossoms framed in its own rock-lined basin, weaving through the brilliant daffodils. A charming path wound throughout the garden. There were several resting stations, paved with stone and furnished with Victorian wooden benches and great tubs of coral and carmine tulips. 

The brilliance of the daffodils was like the glow of the brightest sunlit day. Words, wonderful as they are, simply cannot describe the incredible beauty of that flower-bedecked mountain top. Five acres of flowers! (This too I discovered later when some of my questions were answered.)

"But who has done this?" I asked Carolyn. I was overflowing with gratitude that she brought me This was an once-in-a-lifetime experience.

"Who?" I asked again, almost speechless with wonder, "and how, and why, and when?" "It's just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory.

We walked up to the house, my mind buzzing with questions. On the patio we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking" was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read.

The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain."

The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

There it was: The Daffodil Principle. For me that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than thirty-five years before, had begun--one bulb at a time ---  to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top.

This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration: learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time-- often just one baby-step at a time -- learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

 "Carolyn," I said that morning on the top of the mountain as we left the haven of daffodils, our minds and hearts still bathed and bemused by the splendors we had seen, "it's as though that remarkable woman has needle-pointed the earth! Decorated it. Just think of it!  She planted every single bulb, for more than thirty years. One bulb at a time! And that's the only way this garden could be created. Every individual bulb had to be planted. There was no way of short-circuiting that process. Five acres of blooms. That magnificent cascade of hyacinth! All, just one bulb at a time."

The thought of it filled my mind. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the implications of what I had seen. "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

My wise daughter summed up the message of the day in her direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said with the same knowing smile she had worn for most of the morning. Oh, profound wisdom! It is pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson a celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use tomorrow?"

I trust you will be encouraged, as I was, to practice The Daffodil Principle and bring your vision, beauty,  joy, and peace into your life one bulb/idea at a time!
Stayed tuned for the May BrainBuzz Newsletter. I thought I would be able to share some of my exciting "Rimsiyavyo" news with you this month. However, my Yellow Brain has to wait until all the appropriate details have been organized and agreed upon.

I am always delighted to receive new and follow up requests for What Color Is Your Brain?® Programs. Please, call me at 847.526.9039 or email me at snglazov@comcast.net if you would like me to customize a program for you and your organization. 

A special "Thank You" to so many of you who share your BrainBuzz Newsletter with your co-workers, family, and friends by clicking on the links at the  bottom of this message.
"Happy Brainday!"

Eric, a 5th grader, created that splendid word when his class was reading Princess Shayna. I worked with Eric's teacher and regularly visited his classroom while they were working on projects from the Gift Givers Guide at back of the book.


One day, Eric told me, "Mrs. Glazov, I am Rependable, which means I am responsible, respectful, accountable and dependable." I told Eric that loved his word and would always acknowledge him when I used his word.