Just An Average Book Lover

by admin | Sep 28, 2019 | Purpose

Books are extraordinary things, aren’t they? They’re an adventure across the globe, an intimate lunch with your friend, and a visit to the therapist, all wrapped up in one. They have extraordinary possibility, contained in an ordinary cover which can be held in the palm of your hand.

If you know me, you know that I absolutely love books. I consider it to be the one thing that I collect, besides moments. My happy places include: bookstores, libraries, any spot near a bookcase filled with books, or pretty much any little cozy spot to sit with a stack of books. I dream of having a library of a room someday. Belle is probably my favorite princess if you wondered, and for obvious reasons. (Also because I have a four year old daughter and we have these type of conversations.)

I lived in a small town where most of us walked home after the bell rang, signaling the end of our elementary school day. I was a good kid, who would go directly home and upon my arrival, I would immediately call my mother, who I knew was at work and intently waiting for said phone-call.

Except that one time. The local librarian had been in our classroom that day, informing us of the upcoming summer reading challenge. You know the one, where you keep track of the books you read over summer break, and somehow, when you hit some number or benchmark I don’t really recall, you got a coupon for fresh personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut. (THAT I recall. I mean, what child from the eighties doesn’t remember those? I haven’t been there in years, but just remembering this makes me think about revisiting that situation. But I digress.)

I decided that a few extra minutes to make the extra stop at the library would be okay. I mean, this happened to take me a good 7-10 minutes out of my way, but it didn’t seem too long, and the act of signing up would be simple. I reasoned that I’d be home in no time, just a “few” extra minutes and I decided to go. The pull of books and a challenge was strong. (Now that I think about it, maybe also the pizza?)

It should also be noted that seeing this was sometime around 1989 and 1991, there were no cell phones. I could make a quick phone call or send a quick text to my mom. The only communication, besides going to the school office and asking to borrow their phone (which I have a vague feeling that this was frowned upon), was that phone hanging on the wall in our kitchen. I reasoned I’d be there soon enough. It would be fine. I hedged my bets and headed the opposite direction of home.

I loved being there, surrounded by those tall shelves and endless book possibilities. But I did get a little panicky while trying to execute the mission. I felt the time ticking away while a few friends and I waited for the librarian to be able to help us. She seemed to have other people to keep helping, and the phone to answer. And one time, that phone was ringing for me.

Somehow, as I stood there, filling out the sign up sheet at the library, a very unusual place to be at that time, my mom had figured out where I might be. I still don’t know how she did it. Did she guess and come up with a (very short) list of possibilities? Did she call the school and hear from the teacher that some kids had been talking about going to the library? I’ll pribably never know the answer to that now. Much time has passed, and it will remain a fabled parenting win in my childhood record books. She wasn’t mad, I didn’t get in big trouble. I had just worried her, and she somehow figured out where to find me: with the books.

Well that’s where I can still be found. With the books. In my home, with some overstuffed bookshelves and stacks of books in the guest room. With a book tucked into my bag, with a child on my lap and a storybook in my hand.

I have more books than time allows me to keep up with these days, but I do manage to read *most* to the books that my lovely book club friends and I choose, and a few besides. I’m reading a lot of great non-fiction books, too.

This love affair with books also includes children’s books. I read an impressive amount of this “genre” of literature. We have an extensive and, because I can’t help myself, still growing collection of children’s books. The collection started as mine, before I had any children of my own, and even before I was married. I opened a book the other day to read to the kids and found it inscribed with my maiden name.

As a nanny I have spent lots of time reading to “my” kids over the past 20 years or so. Now with my own young children, one of my absolute favorite things to do is sit and read with them every day, their small bodies pressed against me, or even both of them on my lap. I heard one what recently about the “1,000 books by kindergarten” reading challenge. I had a moment of sadness, as my daughter was approaching 4 years old and kindergarten wasn’t far off. Then I did the quick math, and realized that was about three books per day FOR A YEAR. We had that one in the bag by the time she turned two! And we haven’t stopped.

Seeing as I spend so much time sitting on the floor reading a variety of little people books, and also try to find time to curl up in a chair to read grown up ones, I thought I’d share my reviews with you as I go, being a natural sharer as I am. Including, and maybe even most importantly, children’s books Even if you don’t have kids, the children’s books are totally worth checking out yourself sometime (they can so succinctly and beautifully share important things.) They would also make great gifts the next time the need arises.

So I hope that you enjoy as I continue to find and share the treasures that these books are. It is undoubtedly a way to “court the extraordinary” in life. While I’m not disciplined or voracious enough of a reader to call myself a “book nerd”, I am undoubtedly a book LOVER. You can still find me by the books. Though I prefer to enjoy them now with coffee or wine, depending. Pizza is optional, if I’m being honest.

Watering What Matters

by admin | Sep 25, 2019 | Purpose

I am a habitual plant killer.  Ask my husband.   A BEAUTIFUL, GREEN plant, maybe even flowering, will arrive at our house.  I will look at it with love, hope, and possibility.   It’s beauty is a gift and having it in our home will delight me. I will welcome it with joy and long for it to stay, however it has arrived, either as a gift or a hopeful purchase of my own. The sad truth is, however, that I will inevitably, slowly, and carefully kill it.  I will not actually try to do it. Obviously. But I will anyway.   

    How? The usual way.  Slow death by lack of sufficient water.  I will fail to care for it.

But why? If I’m so happy to have it in my home, like I said, then why can’t I make the leap from HOPING it will thrive to actually HELPING it thrive, by giving it what it needs?

    Here’s the funny part. At work, I do it well.   It’s one of my acquired jobs to care for the plants, and guess what.  They’re gorgeous.  I pretty much rock it there.  I’m not 100%, as there have been *a couple* losses, but I have done some amazing things. I’ve helped keep a few large beauties alive for more than seven years and I once revived two failing peace plants which had been teetering on the edge of complete death, bringing them back to vibrant and flowering! Major wins. Why? Because it’s my job.  I actually took it upon myself as a task. I decided to make the time to care.

At home,  where I can’t quite seem to get “keeping green things alive” on my task list, I have to think about why. Not only have I not made watering them a regular rotation on my schedule, if I’m being honest, I just don’t even think about it all that much.

  I don’t actually see them most days. Not REALLY see them. I kind of notice them, but I overlook them AS THEY ARE. (For heavens sake, if I actually looked at them, I’d notice that they’re shriveling up and practically screaming for help.) I love to see them, but by not actually noticing THEM, I’m ironically not loving them. I’m choosing not to CARE about them, and certainly not for them. I guess I take them a for granted.  They’re just there. But there now doesn’t mean that they’ll always be there. Because the things around you are either growing or dying. In my life, I’m a participant in that process, consciously or not.

It makes me think, what else do I love, maybe even fiercely, and yet do not properly notice, and therefore, water? In my heart, in my home?  Does anything need to be noticed? How are my relationships? How are my children, my marriage? My creativity? My health? Have I stopped and NOTICED these things, these people lately? Have I done it yet today?

Life is not static, homes and relationships are not static, people are not static. Plants, too. (We were talking about plants, weren’t we? There I go forgetting them again.) All of these things are changing, growing, and using resources. They need nutrients and sometimes a little extra love. Most assuredly, something in your life needs a little extra watering and love right now. It changes on a rotating basis. Which is why checking in is so important.

So here’s my super simple guide to caring for your plants, your self, and your loved ones.

1- Look around and notice what’s in your life. See what’s thirsty. (See, simple)

2. Ask yourself if that thing is important to you.

This is the most crucial step and the biggest step. This is where we decide. Am I keeping this alive (or failing to, but thinking I should) because someone said that I should? Or because I want to?

How go you feel when you look at it? Do you feel enough love to want to invest time into it and water it? Then proceed to step three. (But also, read on, just in case.)

Do you feel guilty when you notice the brittle leaves and the sagging state of it? Even if you have played a part in it, and you’ve had a hand in its mediocrity, you have to let the guilt go. It’s okay and important to notice that, but guilt should not be your driving force. Here, or anywhere. It can act as a guide, pointing out the signs in your heart, but it’s not the boss.

If you let go of the guilt, and there’s nothing left there, no love or affinity or hope for the future, then you need to let that plant go! Let me say right here, if you don’t have a connection or an affinity to the thing, then skip all the next steps. Find a new home for that plant, put the bulbs away maybe for another season, or simply go ahead and throw it away. (Sorry if that offends you! Just keeping it real.)

The truth is, life’s too short to spend time watering things that aren’t that important to to you. You have to put in the time to care for what’s in your life, so if you don’t actually care about the thing, stop feeling guilty about it and say goodbye. (This also works well for meetings you don’t really need to go to, tasks that you think you should do like organizing your spice drawer, less-than-life-giving hobbies or toxic friendships, and that book you’re having trouble finishing.) Go ahead and take it off the shelf of your life. Done. Let go of the misspent time, energy and guilt. It may be only ten minutes here, or twenty minutes there, but those minutes add up. If your to- do’s are not lined up with what you value, it’s just busy work. And worse, it’s taking your time away from what’s more important, and it’s taking up room on a shelf where something else needs to go. “Don’t give first rate effort to second rate causes.”

3- Care for it.

You’re going to need to start with the simple act of watering it, obviously. Start now. Grab the watering can and share some love. Is your creativity thirsty? Grab a book, go walk outside and look at nature, or turn on some music that inspires you. Was it a relationship? Reach out to that person with a phone call, a hug, a touch on the shoulder. It doesn’t have to be complicated and in fact it shouldn’t be. The truth is, it’s so simple usually, that you feel kind of embarrassed that you haven’t done it yet lately.

After that first water today, notice how you feel about that. Then plan for next time.

Maybe you need to set an alarm on your phone that reminds you twice a week to actually water your plants. Was your daughters confidence the thing that was thirsty? Make a plan to give her one complement before she leaves for school every day. It can be simple but it should be specific. About who she is, the things she does.

Maybe you need to set an alarm on your phone to kiss your wife at 7pm every night. Does that sound crazy? It’s only crazy if it doesn’t work. And if it works for Brendon Bouchard… (Seriously, the man who wrote High Performance Habits does this.) It’s so simple, but the reality of life is that we get carried away with a thousand urgent tasks and we sometimes forget to do the most important ones. You need to remember to do the important stuff, no matter how silly it may seem. It can literally be life giving.

Here’s a side note. You may not always LOVE the watering part (like making lunch for the family again, making room in your schedule for someone else’s needs, or patiently listening when you kind of wish you weren’t). But even if the task of watering or encouraging is hard in the moment for you, you can remember that you love the thing (or person) enough, and you can find a way to help it flourish.

4- Repeat in continuum.

Life keeps changing and what seems so thirsty today might be thriving and need a little less water next week. (Something else will take its place don’t worry.) That’s why it’s so important to check in. Again, keep it simple for your brain. Just notice, and then water.

Remember, this is not about doing more, it’s about doing what matters.

Even when you mess up or forget, refer back to the steps: Notice (again), Asess (again), Choose (again), Plan (and maybe it needs tweaking), Repeat (again and again, with improvements.). Because life need continued watering. You may as well put your time and energy into the things that you really care about.

So maybe take a minute today take a little inventory what’s your home what’s in your life it looks thirsty? What would you rather see thriving? Is it a plant, a relationship, your creativity or fitness? A closet or your calendar? Go water it. And by water, I mean love. You’ll be so amazed and even a little proud when you see those plants (and people) start to perk up, green and vibrant again.

So you can find me over here trying to water my people, my marriage, my home, my dreams, while simultaneously sneaking a few things into the bin, tossing them what’s not a priority, making more room for what is. right now. It could also be noted that I’m also keeping one plant alive in my kitchen. For now.

My New Assistant, the Timer

by admin | Sep 20, 2019 | Purpose

It’s hard to juggle all of the balls that we manage in our busy lives, isn’t it? The house, the kids, the job, meals, errands, and relationships, plus the goals, fitness, hobbies, hopes and dreams. It can be exhilarating and interesting, and it can also feel like we’re running in circles, hardly making forward progress. Or maybe that’s just me?

I find this is especially true with my role as Mom. When I’m home, I’m snack queen, house cleaner, sock-finder, story-reader, problem-solver, cookie-maker, activity planner and implementer, multi-level organizer, and developmental overseer, just to name a few, and I’m everything all at once. I find myself pulled from one thing to the next and back around most days.

I can start unloading the dishwasher, only to realize someone needs another piece of toast or their spoon fell. I try to catch up on emails or plan the next meal, squeezing tasks into a quarter moment, and then someone’s potty break needs a little assistance or someone else colored on the furniture (thank you, toddler years.) Maybe both. Sometimes I wonder: WHERE is my assistant?

There are many helpful resources for the difficult task of being mom but it seems so many of them encourage us to get help from others, either begged or bought. That’s great, but that’s not be where I am right now. I AM the help. I work part time out of the house, and so I already get help from family members during that time. It’s invaluable and also about all that I can or want to ask of them. I’m not willing to pay anyone to help me when I’m home.

So I need ALL of the tricks I can get which will HELP ME. I need things that help me work smarter. (Lord knows I don’t need to work any harder, and you probably don’t either!) I need ideas that enable me to be and feel more peacefully productive. I’ll say that again- peacefully productive. That’s a fabulous goal, indeed!

Enter scene: The timer, my new assistant (superhero cape unseen but clearly there.) It’s a sunny yellow egg timer, denoting how many minutes you need to cook the perfect soft, medium and hard boiled egg. It has been sitting on the shelf in my various kitchens with the same color walls, starting with my first apartment. We recently remodeled our kitchen and while the yellow is gone from the walls, my trusty little yellow timer isn’t going anywhere. It’s here to stay because it’s still loved, and also, because it’s been called up to the big leagues. (Also, my assistant is now so “big time” that it has assistants,too. The timers on my watch and my phone are on serious rotation as well, with the yellow timer leading the charge.)

The job description is simple and straight-forward. The cost is minimal to free, and the value is almost priceless (or at least really really high. Especially in the sanity department, if you value that sort of thing, wink wink.) I’m sure you’ve read the articles. When you tally up Mom’s job descriptions and add up the salaries, it would be at least six figures. I actually think it is probably up to CEO level by now, really, if you figure in all the jobs of cook, nanny, laundress, housecleaner, personal shopper and chauffeur alone.

Well, if I’m like the CEO of household operations, then this timer is the assistant, sitting watch at the desk outside my office door, noting my schedule and my priorities for the day as well as the moment, keeping away distractions, and helping make the most of my valuable time.

When I set a timer, it’s like making an appointment on my calendar and letting my assistant know how long I’ll be busy. We know how important appointments are, and for these ones I don’t even have to leave my house. This works whether it’s planned ahead or decided on the spot. I decide what I need to work on, one priority at a time, and for how long. I set the timer and I get to work. My little assistant keeps track of my intentions and lets me know when it’s time to move on.

By setting a timer, I’m employing a time blocking technique, in small and manageable measures, and applying it to my life at home. I’m setting a parameter and indicating a priority for different things. What kind of things, do you ask? I use it for everything from my personal goals and fitness, to laundry and vaumming, playtime, bedtime, writing, and even the kitchen sink. (Literally, the kitchen sink. More on that later.) Based on whatever my priorities are for that day, I decide what, when and how. My assistant helps me execute.

This is why I love using a timer:

1- It helps me start something I don’t want to start.

“Once begun is half done” are the wise words of Mary Poppins. I love her, of course, and also it’s very true. Sometimes the hardest part of a certain task, either big or mundane, is simply starting. These times, I set the timer. It works especially well for folding the clean pile of laundry I’ve amassed during the week or tackling the messy dishes, which I seem to resist unconsciously sometimes. (Why do I, anyway? Is it that initial plunge, getting dirty hands and turning away from everything else? Though let’s be honest- some days that’s a little escape!)

Sometimes it’s starting the work on the big goal or the big task that’s part of the big goal. The one you need to do and pretty much want to do, that gets you closer to your dreams, but that you resist somehow. Like sitting down to actually write the thing that’s in your heart, putting the words on the page one word at a time, much like I am now. I had to set the timer just to get started today and give myself the chance to begin.

For you that might be working out (I WILL walk for 20 minutes!) or making phone calls for your job or side hustle, or following up on emails that wil move you forward. Whatever it is, if you carve out time to work toward that goal of yours, a timer can help to hold your feet to the fire, to help you do the tasks, to make things happen instead of just dreaming about them.

2- It helps create just enough structure without overwhelming me.

Something that I’ve learned about myself is that I’m not one for strict schedules, hard deadlines, and rigid to do lists. Believe me, I have to to do lists and I make plans, and I get a lot done. I mean, A LOT. But with so many moving pieces of the puzzle, I find that the times I attempt too much structure, it stresses me out and I can’t maintain it.

But that doesn’t mean I’m total free range over here. I need a little structure, not none at all. That’s where the timer helps. It’s using time blocking, so I can designate time towards a certain areas. It’s flexible enough for me to embrace it without being so rigid that I feel stuck. I set the timer and when I don’t need it, leave it on the shelf when I don’t. I helps me still feel like I’m in the one in charge, not just the tasks and schedules.

3- It helps me focus on one thing (mostly) at a time and limit distractions.

There’s a lot of multitasking that happens as a mom, like it or not. My husband says that multitasking is actually truly impossible. When he says that, I pause from what I’m doing- tying a shoe, nursing the baby, and maybe even brushing my teeth at the same time. I consider his words and nod in half agreement. I think that he’s right, and also I can’t help it. I find it almost impossible to fully avoid and yet it’s hard to feel great about any sort of progress if I do it all day long. Sometimes I need singular focus.

I’ll use it if I need to concentrate on something without a thousand interruptions, wherever they may be coming from. Interruptions are difficult, whether they come externaly or from internal sources, and setting a timer can help me stay on task, therby increasing my productivity.

4- It helps me finish well.

Knowing at what point I’ll move on to the next task has helped me engage more in what I’m doing at the moment, focus more clearly and finish strong. The flip side, is that it can keep me honest, and give me the accountability to actually finish (for that moment.).

I am a natural doer. Simultaneously, I am really big on quality time. I can often be found struggling between the two extremes. Designating set time for each hungry part of my psych is not only helpful, it’s somewhat therapeutic. Because while having a great work ethic is fantastic, it can come at a cost. I can easily find myself getting carried away and working, one task to the next. Then I end up feeling rushed and robbed of the time that I value so much with my loved ones. Creating an end time is sometimes the best thing that I can do keep me from “over doing.”

Can you relate? Try using the timer to remind yourself to finish the task, and then move on.

5– It reduces the feeling of overwhelm and not enough.

While juggling using the different roles, switching between the hats, it can feel overwhelming because of the emotional pull from one thing to the other. You can feel guilty for what you’re not doing. When I use the timer, I’m not only giving attention to one area, I’m reminding myself that I’m giving attention to that area. When guilt creeps up, be it for business, blog, the laundry, exercise, or time with my kids, I can remind myself that I did work on that area today. I set a timer and I gave it attention, and I did the best that I could, I spent the appropriate time on that area for NOW or for TODAY, and I moved on. I know that I’ve done a few things WELL.

It helps put me in charge of the time instead of me running around after every priority that’s pops up. It enables me get things done a little better. It’s helping me keep carve out a little more mental clarity, some sanity and a just enough structure into these flexible and sometimes messy days. It organizes my brain and my day without overwhelming me.

When I make the timer I’m making focused time for something or someone important, which means I might actually finish a task. (Novel idea!) At the least, it helps me to focus on one area at a time and make some forward progress. Sometimes setting a timer might mean the task isn’t finished fully (hello laundry pile, I’m looking at you!) , but I gave it the most appropriate amount of time for right now.

The act of setting the timer has gotten me in some better habits of practicing boundaries and not just being a people pleaser or task doer. It’s allowed me to be in control of my time more, and feel a little less like I’m chasing after every need that keeps popping up. Especially when I’m home and with my little, precious, playful, awake, and hungry kids. It’s my super assistant, and I don’t even have to pay it. But it’s beyond valuable.

Do you sometimes struggle with these same things? Try out this “assistant”. Use the timer a few times this week and let me know if it helps you!

Blogging For Breadcrumbs

by admin | Aug 28, 2019 | Purpose

Hello, friend, and welcome to my blog! This may or may not be our first introduction, but I’d like to take a moment to thank you for being here. While we’re at it, I’d like to share a bit about why I even started a blog anyway. I love a good “how” and “why” story, myself. I love hearing how someone got somewhere, and why. It gives meaning to the whole big picture.

So for starters, let me introduce you to, well, really, to my heart.  I would be remiss to not acknowledge it. Because, here it is, a little underdressed. Written down before your eyes, in snippets of black and white.  

I’ve been writing since I was a little girl, filling journal after journal with thoughts and dreams, treasures that I find, things that leave an imprint on my heart, and experiences worth remembering.

I even launching a blog on a different platform three years ago. But as we know, life is all about timing, and something about that timing wasn’t quite right. Here I am with two young children, no more time than I had then, and plenty of things to keep me busy.

Yet, this past year I reconnected with my lifelong desire and practice of writing. And not only to write and then tuck it away on a shelf somewhere, mostly hidden, maybe seen again at one point either by me or my loved ones when I’m gone someday. Instead, an intense desire to write and to share.

You know what I think about those desires that you have in your heart? I think that you have them for a reason. I think that the scripture that says “God will give you the desires of your heart” really means that he actually will, or already has, given you the DESIRE. The WANT TO is from a Divine Being that is ultimately Creative and immensely Loving. The actual desire is an invitation to participate in creating something meaningful, to build something with love, on purpose. Dreams and desires have a reason for being in your heart.

What you do with it is up to you. Dreams don’t arise in your sightline for only enriching your daydreams, and they don’t come true without the work and the action towards making them happen.

This past summer I had a junction point of identity. You ever had one of those? A seemingly small moment (to everyone else) that sends shock waves through what you know and believe to be true about yourself? There was a circumstance that did just that. It’s too small of a moment and yet to lengthy of a description to get into now and to retell. And, honestly, it doesn’t matter so much about the particulars. What really mattered was what happened inside of me as a result. It was a matter of the heart, one that set me up to collide again with my dreams.

A small situation directly connected with my current self identity, and subsequent level of self worth. It tipped the internal scales in an uncomfortable way. It happens, doesn’t it? As life evolves, you change roles, add responsibilities, and move through phases, our self identity can go through processes of changing as well, if it needs to, and sometimes whether you want it to or not. This circumstance caught me one year after having my second baby, which as we a whole cluster of changes right there, self identity merely being one of them. How you fit in the world, in your family, your business, your job, your relationships, these all can feel like they teeter upon one another, somewhat like a Jenga puzzle. I’ve never been a huge fan of the game, all of the order slowly turning to instability, the mess, and then waiting for the big fall. Life can feel just like that as one role changes, causing the load to shift, to lean suddenly, or to become more dependent in a new way. It creates tension, redirecting energy, reevaluating loads as well as the direction of the tower itself.

This was how I felt in a way. It was going on under the surface, and one puzzle piece moved rather dramatically, and I had a new situation to assess. No one could see it from the outside. But I felt this all in my heart.

It gave me pause, in discomfort, to ask a few important questions. WHO AM I, now, anyway? Who do I see myself as? What value do I bring to others? What value do I place on my various roles, and what am I doing to best bring meaning to each day?

I sat down to write through the layers, the good, bad and indifferent. When I looked at my life on paper, scrawled out in my messy script, I noted what I was doing with my time, what I wanted to do with my time, what I valued and what was important.

It was a long list, especially the “doing” part. (I’m a doer, a helper on the Eneagram. Though there is a disclaimer on that category that moms of young kids may fall into this category during those care-taking years. Since I’ve been in those “care-taking” years for the last two decades, in my chosen career asa nanny, and now also as a mom, it may be a hazard of the jobs, who knows. But it’s part of who I am and where I am now, still.)

Looking at the list as a whole, at ME as a whole, one passion kept rising the top. Like a balloon filled with air, writing buoyed itself to the top and hung there.

Writing. It’s something that I had been making very little time for, but something that was important to me deeply. It’s the thing that had been patiently waiting for more of a turn as I was busy- making beds and snacks, cuddling babies, running lots of miles, racing, training, cooking, baking, and a hundred other things. Writing was now jumping up, raising its hand, waving it back and forth furiously, like a student in the back row asking for a chance.

When your unbidden dreams jump to the forefront, you take notice.

Well I noticed. Then something happened. Everywhere I turned for the next several days, that dream was highlighted, validated and echoed back to me in so many different ways. It was a symphony, a loud and undeniable broadcast to my heart of “YES!”. It was time to go.

I had a dear friend tell me several years ago that I should write a blog. She thought that I had enough interesting things to share that I should “totally do it.” I believe that this conversation happened the exact day that we sat in my kitchen and told each other that we were both pregnant with our first child, hers planned, mine a surprise. We would both go in to deliver baby girls, a mere eleven days apart. But the blog comment? She was spot on, as usual. But again, timing.

The fast forward to four years later, when this Jenga puzzle if my life was re-evaluated, and I re-found the idea of a blog. What better way to write and to get to share in real time, in ways that were meaningful for me, than to start right now and to begin a blog? The true beauty of the modern age is that we don’t need to wait around for a ‘someday’ when inspiration strikes or to get a book deal or close the sale. We can make it our day TODAY.

So start a blog, I did.

I was honestly pretty much equal parts exhilarated (the extrovert side of me) and scared (the almost exactly equal introvert side), to begin sharing beyond my own circle. I’m learning as I go, setting out on this new adventure, without having all of the other pieces figured out. It’s just like any other journey in life; you’ll never have it all figured out beforehand, and you just have to do it at some point, because it’s the time to do it.

I’m writing for passion and purpose.

There’s something else here, something selfish. See, I’m doing this as much for me as for anyone. When I go back and see what I’ve written in the past, I am reminded of a lesson I already learned, and sometimes forgot, and there’s always something that I need to hear again. When I write, sometimes my most important audience is my future self. The best way that I can help myself moving forward is to channel my inner Hansel and Gretel, and trail of breadcrumbs so I can find my way back. Back to these important things I learn and forget, learn and forget. Writing them down helps me as much as it could ever help anyone else. I am my own best Jimminy Cricket.

 
It’s like leaving a trail of breadcrumbs to help me find my way back when I need it.

  Because even on my best days, and certainly on my worst, I need reminding about the extraordinary  and good things that I once knew.   I need to remember what I have found, or risk loosing it along the way.  These moments of knowing are too extraordinary to misplace.  
    So here I am, ordinary me, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. I’ll do my best to share the amazing and wonderful, the regular and difficult. The ordinary and the extraordinary. I do this with hope, knowing that we can see, connect with, and maybe even love our lives a little more.

  So thank you to each of you that has come along on the journey. Thank you for being here, too. I hope that sharing parts of my journey will help you along with yours.

A Love Letter to August (sort of)

by admin | Aug 7, 2019 | Purpose

Why, hello August, a pleasure to see you again, my dear. (Kind of.) I love what you offer, with your big blue skies and puffy clouds in the day, your sparkling constellations and fireflies at night. The casually gorgeous fields of wildflowers and the bounty of tall, golden corn are just a few highlights of what grows under your watch. Your sun is dazzling enough to keep warm the lakes and rivers. You are glorious and full of summer beauty, ripe for the taking.

So, I do love you and everything. But, well… The thing is, if I’m being honest, it’s a bit complicated. I mean, you’re not as easy to love as July. Don’t get me wrong; you’re beautiful and sunny and summery. It’s just that sister month July is so… free.

July is beautiful and simple, free from the tangle of many responsibilities and obligations. She’s an oyster of possibility, an ice cream sundae with all of the toppings. Coming along on the heels of busy sister June, with her sometimes more formal occasions and proper holidays, July is seen as a reprieve, a chance to breathe, kick of your shoes, and let down your guard. She comes along with fireworks and sparklers, big cookouts and loud families. She’s a stand-alone stunner of a month.

I’m so sorry, August. I got a little carried away. This is supposed to be about you, dear August. I mean, you’re amazing, you truly are. It’s just that you remind us that the fun here won’t go on forever, and that can be a tough pill to swallow. Your presence causes us to start counting the number of Tuesdays and Fridays and Saturdays that we have left for adventure, the number of weekends we might be able to stretch and extend .

Your nights close in around us earlier. The days are a little slower to rise out of bed; they don’t always spring out of bed. They days are still long and beautiful, don’t get me wrong. They just, well, they don’t give us that same feeling as the longest summer days.

The mornings make for colder bike rides and runs. While the reprieve feels good for my level of effort, the way that they make my hands cold and even think about gloves makes me think about, well, glove weather. And I don’t want to think about anything to do with glove weather. Not by a long shot.

Dear, August. You are still so much summer, yet you also signal the end that will come, of course, eventually. And I don’t want it to. I know it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault that school starts creeping in. It not your fault that we have to start thinking about schedules and school supplies and structure. Every email and commercial reminds usthat summer, in all of its sweetness, will not last forever.

But you know what? Maybe what I see as your biggest downfall might actually be one of your biggest strengths. As the more mature summer month, you grant more meaning, more perspective. This will not last forever. You remind us to count the days, to take unabashed advantage of them, to not let these chances merely pass us by. You remind me to go in the water, to run around the yard with the kids, to watch the stars. To not get too accustomed to this beauty, too conditioned to respect it or to tired to enjoy it. You remind me that days these days of glory are closing like the pages of a beloved book. They will be replaced by days of more structure and obligation that are coming again. Right now, the best obligation that I have is to make the most of it all, to make the most of today.

So thank you August, for coming. I’m sorry for not seeing you for what you are, at first. For comparing you with your sister, July (who, for the record, really is beautiful.) But you’re quite stunner yourself. Your beauty is deep and thought-provoking. There’s a lot to be said about that. I do sincerely apologize for not realizing at first that your differences are actually what make you more beautiful. Your presence provides perspective.

Thanks for the reminder. Thank you for being here, right in the middle of summer, buffered by responsibility on one side and freedom on the other. Now let’s go watch the sunset…

The power of FUN

by admin | Jul 12, 2019 | Purpose

Honest confessions.  I’ve had more fun here in these first two weeks of summer than in the whole of the winter that lead up to.  (And winter here lasted a good six months this year, so this is saying a lot.) I had my head down and was working hard. (That’s what we do, right?)

I’m  a mom of two young ones, I work outside of the home part time, and I am working on this new blog adventure. I tend to get a lot done each day, between running my house and all these various ventures.   I keep a pretty full schedule and move at least part of every day at a somewhat rushed, and sometimes even hectic pace.

I do my best when I’m busiest, but no one does their best when they’re just busy.  As winter dragged on and spring was somewhat lackluster, I faced various challenges, I was loosing steam, and a bit of joy, if I’m being honest.  I keep working at it and I kept trying to choose the good stuff. But my joys were quieter, more “reserved”, even sometimes hard fought. I kept trying, but I kept falling short. Also, uncharacteristically, I kept falling apart.  I needed to shake it off. I needed some brightness, some lightness.  I needed something. I needed summer, it turns out. I needed fun.

Both suddenly and after a long time so it seemed, it happened. Summer came swooping in with sunshine and adventures, like a long-forgotten best cousin. You know, the one you didn’t realize you missed until they shot you their best dimpled grin, complete with freckles, sparkling eyes, and just a hint of mischief. The call to join the quest for adventure comes so powerfully that you drop whatever it was that you were holding, including pretext, and you follow them toward, well, toward wherever they might lead.

This was the arrival of summer this year. It was bold and front loaded. It surprised me, it dazzled me. It came in busy, and messy, with overloaded schedules and juggling childcare scenarios. It allowed- no, required- me to set down some of the balls I was juggling and join in.

Summer is urgent in its important attempt for you to let down your guard, lay aside your busyness, and get busy in the non important things that are actually, oh so important. It’s nothing if it’s not self assured. Once you join this unabashed cousin on the “lesser tasks” like watching the sun set or the clouds move long enough to stop counting the minutes, or jumping in that cool water and squealing a little, you realize (again) just how important and powerful FUN is. It makes you feel alive. It awakens your curiosity, it gives you a boost of confidence in what is possible in the world, what your important place could be.

Summer! Oh, summer! Summer doesn’t remember to be quite so polite and patient. It rises early with the sun and lingers awake with warmth of vibration long after the sun sets. It has dirty feet, sun kissed shoulders, and a big smile on its face. It has fingers that are sticky from sweet dripping ice cream or picking juicy berries and cherries. It leaves the dirty dishes in the sink when it needs to, it blows away the dust on the dresser instead of doing the proper dusting. It changes the schedule and goes to the concert and then throws the beautiful fluttery blouse on the floor as it crawls into bed much later than usual, and for none of the usual reason. Summer is impolite and messy, in the best ways. It can’t wait for you to think about it or to line things up neatly or to have the perfect …anything. Picnics, plans and outfits should be just the right amount of easy and beautiful. Homegrown goodness with minimal effort is what summer draws from the earth, from you.

There have been trips to the pool, birthday parties, a wedding, and a 3D movie at the theater for the first time for the kids. I dressed up and we went out, we watched fireworks and had sleepovers.  I stayed up way too late talking on the porch with my sister, the upstairs bedrooms full of happily exhausted and snuggly cousins. There was so much fun it almost gave me whiplash. Yet it made me feel so alive.    

We went to a concert, one of my favorite things. It doesn’t matter to me too much who it is, as long as I can sing along a little. Last year it was Kenny Cheney, a high energy summer beauty of a night, where you don’t sit and don’t stop smiling. This time we listened to a Jason Isbell, a regular part of the soundtrack in our house. The music is soulful and a little brooding. We sit and feel the music as much as listen.

It’s so magical to be there on a summer evening, having kissed the kids a hundred times and then snuck away from the routine and bedtime. I listen to music with a cold wine in my hand, a gentle breeze blowing my hair that lay loose around my shoulders, my husband smiling beside me, both of us singing along to songs that we know so well. These small miracles are not lost on me. The opening act was a 70’s cool type of California cat named Father John Misty. (I had never heard of him before, that’s how cool I am.) He said something funny and ironic and I laughed so hard, it was like a spell broke. The final, invisibles shackles of doldrums weee bursting from my unseen heart. I was awake and alive to unburdened joy again.

It’s almost like I had forgotten how to have fun. Well maybe that isn’t entirely accurate.   I had pined for it, but it wasn’t a regular practice for myself. I mean, I do ENJOY my life and cherish my loved ones.  It’s that I had forgotten, at least a little, how to have grown-up, outside of the check boxes of my to-do list, FUN. I’d forgotten that you can and should make it part of the to do list. Perhaps because I had forgotten how much fun it is to have fun, how powerful it can be. For me, the mom who’s suddenly forty and whose job is work on so many fronts, fun is an important part of the equation that often gets lost.

I’m not talking about just fun for the kids, either. Fun is intrinsically woven into their days, a part of their nature, a priority for them. I see its importance FOR THEM and I help facilitate and encourage it, to some degree, each day. But what about me?

I think we might need it as adults more than the kids. I know I need it more now than when I was a kid, blessed with the bounty of unscheduled summer days. Then it was like a feast laid out for someone who either eats like a bird or just isn’t really hungry. I mean, I loved it overall, but it got a little boring. See, I was already satisfied. It was an undeserved feast. Now I’m somewhat of the verge of starving and it means so much more.

As time goes by, adults learn to trade in fun little by little, for responsibility. It’s a natural progression, as one our our main jobs as grownups is to be responsible and then to teach our children responsibility. One of the main jobs of kids, however is to play. The other great job that children have is to remind us how to do it.

You need some help remembering how to have fun? Or why? Go watch kids as they play in a sprinkler, jump in a pool, or run around at the playground. They find fun, they join in the fun, and when necessary, they create fun. It’s inspiring. You can hardly witness that type of energy and tangible happiness without feeling joy yourself, and maybe a little envy. Wouldn’t it be great to feel that way again, one wonders? You can. You should.

Fun is important. It brings laughter. It makes you feel good about yourself. It helps you try new things, which gives you the chance for courage and confidence. It helps you appreciate your life and enjoy it even more. It makes things more beautiful, more alive.

It’s for you and for me. It’s for the Mom and the grandma, the diligent Dad and the serious uncle. We all need it. Take the dive, find your fun. Forget your work for a time. (We know it will be there when we get back anyway.) Go out for hot dogs and ice cream, laugh while the kids run through the sprinkler, or better yet maybe join in. Let your hair down. Stay up late talking with someone you love. Crack open that fantastic bon bon of a book and read it with your coffee or your wine. Do silly things with the kids, things that make you all laugh so deeply.

Grab someone’s hand and take them with you, too. Chances are, they need it as much as you do. Life isn’t just about the have-to’s and the should-do’s, the things that keep life running smoothly. Life is also very much about the COULD-do’s, too. The extras, the fun. Don’t leave them out of the equation. Chances are, you’ll find more importance and meaning hidden in the good stuff than you might expect.

And that’s what you carry with you, the fuel that you bring back to the work that you left behind. You come back the boss- emboldened, alive, happier. The tasks were no longer your master. Because you didn’t give the to do’s the ultimate place of importance, they ceased to rule over you for a while. They are once again, your tools. So you wield them, you carve some order back in to your life, and you are more alive with the beauty you found in both the fun AND the work. This is how it should be.

So now we have two teachers, two guides on this journey of having powerful fun. Summer, in all of it’s brightness and sweet possibilities. Children in both their abandon and their focus on finding fun. Thank you, cousin summer, for coming when we need it most. Thank you children, for reminding us what’s so important about having fun.

Go find your fun today. I promise, as long as it still aligns with your personal values, you won’t regret it. It might actually be the most important, the most powerful and the best “to do” that we can accomplish today.