Mother’s Day makes us think of the picture perfect moments- the smiling, beautiful mom with her smooth hair and perfect skin, embracing her happy children with a calm, glowing smile on her face. Those moments, or some other Hallmark variation of what beautiful looks like, happen, but for many of us, those times are fewer and further between. Motherhood is messy. The experiences are messy, the emotions are messy, the daily challenges, and the humans (big or small) with all of the crumbs and sticky things that they leave behind.
With the vast number of non picture-perfect moments, on the occasion that the beautiful moments actually exist, we chase those puppies down, and you better believe that we bring our camera. The hard parts, the messy parts, make us crave even more that family photo, the pretty brunch out, the mommy-and-me picture. They are tokens of the sacred delight that exist in our hearts, sometimes loud and joyful, sometime quiet as a whisper, possibly buried underneath the tower of laundry which accumulates faster than we can wash and fold it. It helps us to remember that, even in all the mess, we are involved in something beautiful.
It starts with pregnancy, usually, and most certainly with the birth. They make a mess of our bodies, our schedules, then our houses, our kitchens, our cars and our handbags. It’s work to recover lost ground, a daily exercise of both trying to stay ahead of the mess, and trying to let go. Things may not as neat and tidy as you’d like, maybe you’re good at staying ahead, or maybe you embrace a lot of the mess and laugh in spite of it. Either way, there’s no shortage of shortcomings (it can feel like we’re actually making a big mess of things ourselves). Most days you can find us with our work boots on (or yoga pants and dirty shirts), our hair tied back , up to our elbows in the mess. It may be cheerios or dirty uniforms, spit up or back talk, but there’s plenty of dirt to work with.
My niece recently asked me if I mind dirty shoes. She’s a teenager, forming her views on life, finding her way in the world, and looking for the best version of all of it. It’s her job to be an idealist. She likes clean shoes (as well as even mascara application and tidy closets.) I chuckled to myself. I do too, in theory, but the reality is that mine are often dirtier than my teenage self would have expected of her future self. I’m a mom of young ones, and it’s my job to get messy as I help clean up. Dirty shoes is practically in the job description, and certainly one of the messes that I must embrace right now.
As we continue each day of motherhood, we have the opportunity to witness the collision of our expectations versus reality, like a too-fast moving truck barreling down a beautiful country road and slamming into an idyllic picket fence. Our road is twisty, our plans or ideals are often too unreasonable, untenable or delicate. When reality arrives, in all of it’s force, there’s often a grand mess that is left in its wake. Changed plans, spilled juice on beautiful outfits, sick days when you planned adventure. Reality trumps expectation again and again, a song on repeat. Often, the most untenable ideals are the ones that we had held for ourselves. The afternoon cookies that don’t get made, the meals that don’t get properly planned and executed, the calm and patient words that don’t come out when they’re most needed. Those are the sometimes the hardest messes swallow.
The biggest mess, though, is possibly the one that’s made of our hearts. Big emotions jumble together in your heart, intertwined and important. Some begin the moment you find out you will be a mother, no matter how this baby arrives. There’s incredible joy at the eternal title bestowed on you, like a crown placed on your head. You, from this point on, forever, no matter what, until a garland of flowers sits beside your casket, will be “Mom”. Messy emotions manage to arrive, too. Unbidden and constant, they prove to be fearsome foes – the worry, the guilt, the doubt of ourselves or our actions, the push and pull of the maternal connections. The emotions are changing and varied through life, continuing on even when both you and your children are older and grey. Joy and pain, joy and pain.
These children do fill up our hearts, (and our closest, but that’s another discussion!) in a lot of wonderful ways, of course. Even with all of the mess, most of us know it is a true honor to have them and we wouldn’t trade them in for all the tidiness ever possible in the world. The most beautiful things are messy at some point and almost all of them at the start. They grow in the dirt and the mud, the kind which imbeds itself deep into your fingernails and settles behind your ears. The most beautiful buildings and houses are built with a great measure of sweat equity, mistakes, and maybe even a bit of swearing. Is any coincidence that Mothers’ Day arrives with a profusion of flowers -bought, gifted and grown? They are nature’s original homegrown beauties, born of mess.
I was able to visit a local greenhouse this week with my daughter’s preschool class. (“My first fieldtrip!” she beamed. Truthfully it was a bit messy getting there, with the schedules and the moving pieces of our puzzle, but we did it.) I’ve driven by this particular farm countless times but had yet to stop. As the owner family led us on the tour, I was struck by how beautiful their life appeared, working together to grow foods that nourish and flowers that spread beauty. They took turns showing us different things, the mom, dad, and their grown daughter. It was clear this type of life is hard work and dirty. It require lots of forethought, and planning, patience and work. The daughter was probably in her 20s, both youthful and hardworking in her pigtails and Carhart’s, with a smattering of freckles. The mom, with her kindness and attention to both plants and people, the dad’s dutiful watering, the massive amounts of dirt that they moved with machines and the delicate seeds that they planted, all demonstrated a certain grace that made you feel like this was something truly special. It was hard work. Messy, beautiful, hard work.
Motherhood is not unlike that. It is messy, hard, beautiful work. You end up with dirt underneath your fingernails, in your hair, and on your shoes. You worry over your seedlings, you plan ahead and think to the future as you water and wait. You rise early and stay until the job is done. You, too, bring beauty to the earth. You are doing something hopeful and meaningful. You grow flowers of the people kind.
Whatever part of motherhood you’re feeling today, the messy digging, the waiting, marveling at how your little seedlings have grown into blooming flowers, maybe even mourning one you lost, just honor that moment. It’s all a part of and connected to the life you have tended. Every gardener gets a little messy, and every gardener realizes that it’s completely worth it, even the tough parts. You just can’t let the messy parts get to you, let the dirt make you feel like a failure or that your life is less than beautiful. The messy is deeply connected to the beautiful; dirt makes the flowers possible. You can’t have flowers without dirt and you certainly can’t have children without a little mess.
Enjoy the beautiful flowers that you see on Mother’s Day and buy them for yourself if you have to. Remember that your dirt has made, and continues to make something beautiful grow. You understand what an honor it is to have a front row, dirty knees seat, to your children’s growth. It’s an incredible honor to be their mom, and watch them grow. In the middle of all the messy and imperfect.
Oh, and whenever you can, take that picture of your messy and your beautiful life. It’s so magically both.
Goals are something that everyone seems to be talking about these days. Dream big, set your goals, and go after them. I wholeheartedly agree. Goals are valuable and important.
It’s one of the things that I love most about running. It’s a chance to set a goal and go after them with fervor. Races can be meaningful goals worth accomplishing, they give you something to work for with purpose, and finish lines are powerful things. I sign up for races because I enjoy the race as well as the training, and the power of moving towards a goal. It keeps me focused and allows me, almost gives me permission, to make my health a priority. I make the time to run-which is something that I brings me great joy and calm. It gives me energy to love on my life more.
The sense of accomplishment from racing is not like much else in life. So much of what we do each day doesn’t have such a clear ending. Most of what we do each day keeps going, rolling one thing to the next. Maybe that’s what is so invigorating about racing- a finish line. Finish lines are celebrated and that is powerful. My son is in that golden age of just two and pure enthusiasm. If there’s an ending to a song, a movie, or, even last weekend’s wedding, he will stop what he’s doing, put both hands together and clap wholeheartedly. It is precious and inspirational to watch the pause and the celebration.
But what happens when life’s variables come in, change your plans, and your plans are disturbed?
No matter what your life circumstances, this can be true. For all of us, sickness, illness, injury, and obligations can come at any and trump the cards that you were about to play. When you are a parent, this is especially true, because this can happen for you AND with each human life for which you are responsible. Parenthood means that at the end of the day -or the middle of the night, or before the first crack of dawn- the buck stops with you. You sit down to write that thing or read that book or do the yoga and someone wakes up coughing and crying. You have a meeting scheduled but something happened and now you have to change course and go pick up your kids. This is such an important part of the whole equation because it happens all the time.
When plans change because of one of these ordinary life circumstances, and you have to trade in your goal-getter work belt for your caretaker cause, it can sometimes feel like, well, not to sound overly dramatic, but it can feel like your dreams are dying on the vine. (If you’ve been there, you know what I mean!)
But this doesn’t have to be the reality. It may not always feel like it, but you can still make progress. You get to define your goals, change them, and adjust them, right there in the middle of your reality. Your expectations for what your goals may actually look like, however, also may need to change.
On Sunday, while my beautiful blessed children slept upstairs, I ran a half marathon. In my basement, alone. I kissed my husband goodbye while it was still terrifically dark out. With that, I also kissed a goal goodbye and I did it willingly. Mostly.
I had planned on running a half marathon that day. But two running events were happening on the same day and my husband and I were signed up for them both, not realizing the overlap. His was a team event, while mine was solo. We don’t have a lot of babysitters and 6:00 am was much too early to require anyone, family member or otherwise, to be here. Then add in a fever the last few days for one kid, and the possibility of it being shared with the second at any moment, and it was not the best circumstances for trying to go anyway. So it made sense that he would go and I would stay. You can’t let down a team, am I right? And so I resigned myself to sitting this one out.
Sometimes you move mountains, sometimes you take the detour. So here I am, not letting OUR team down.
I wanted to run a half marathon this spring because I love the distance and the satisfaction of it, and it makes me a little sad to miss the race experience. I get butterflies in my chest just thinking about the pain of pushing myself, followed by the thrill of finishing. I will miss that finish line today.
Being a mom you put a lot of things on the back burner. But you don’t have to be one of them, nor should your dreams and goals. They just may look different or they may need to be rescheduled. Motherhood, when done well (and by well I mean it’s healthy for kids AND mom) is a grand amount of reshuffling, re-prioritizing, and executing what’s most important. It does not, however, mean leaving yourself off of that list.
So when life happened and plans needed to change, and I couldn’t get to the race, I had to stop what could have been a downward spiral of disappointment and delayed joy. (It may sound dramatic, but it’s not. You’ve been there. We’ve all been there. Changed plans and disappointments are very real part of life.) I had ask myself what did I really want when I decided to run the half marathon? Did I want the medal, the crowds, the Personal Best time? I didn’t sign up to run a half marathon today because of the crowds or the tshirt or the medal at the finish line. Those things are nice, but they’re just bonuses. This one, I just really wanted to run, to go and run 13.1 uninterrupted miles. I love running longer distances and though parenthood has changed how often I do it, it hasn’t changed how much I love it.
I had to ask myself WHAT I wanted most, and HOW I could make that happen. Maybe I could catch another half in a few weeks and try again. But what about TODAY. What could I decided to do today that would move me toward my goal.
This half marathon wasn’t my “A” race or a dramatic goal, but it was a goal (one that was real enough to have the race fee behind it). So I had to reevaluate and move along. As I realized what I really wanted, to run, I realized that I could still do it.
See, I’ve got this thing called a treadmill in my basement and kids who blessedly sleep until at least 8am most days. All I needed to do was get up and run 13.1 miles.
I don’t share this for congratulations or admiration of any kind. Logging ten or more miles on the treadmill happens often enough for me that it wasn’t a big deal. I share this because I know that I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t be where they might have wanted to be on a Sunday. I wasn’t the only one alone in the basement, logging the miles and sweating it out toward a goal, either literally or figuratively.
Honest confession time. I used to think that people sometimes got a little soft when they became parents. You don’t see them at races as much. When you talk to them about their training, “the kids” always comes up as a reason for things dialing back.
But that’s not the case at all. I’ve realized something about those parents. They’re tougher than ever before. If you happened to see them at a race, whether they’re slower or faster, I can bet you that they’re tougher and stronger than ever. Their priorities have changed and parenting has changed them but it’s most likely for the better, no matter what the race results. For every time you see them tow the start line, there were so many others that they didn’t because they were nursing babies, wiping fevered brows, or sweating by themselves in the basement, for no one to see and for no medal, except maybe the mental high five they give themselves, knowing they’ve given it their best shot.
Even though the race wan’t possiblefor me this time, I was able to hit my goal. Though no one was there to witness it, that didn’t matter. I did what I set out to do, even if it looked a lot different. Sure, I missed the thrill of the race, indeed. But I’m not missing the thing that I really need- the movement, the miles. I wanted to be sweaty and work hard and later in the day to feel tired in my body and happy in my mind as I spent time playing and laughing with my kids. I wanted to run a half marathon with my legs and my heart and enjoy the accomplishment.
Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t as speedy as races are or as shiny with the medals and crowds and everything, but it was just as gritty. And just as successful.
Plans are not what they used to be. There are too many variables to get caught up in one day or one experience anymore. The only race I can ever run is my own, and this is what it looks like today. Me, in my basement, with my kids sleeping upstairs. My finish line may look different – feety pajamas and sleep eyed children attempting to hug my sweaty body, but it is pretty sweet.
So this one’s for all the moms getting sweaty and solo before the kids wake up, the dad’s with the jogging strollers, the parents at the starting line of the race, and those who couldn’t be there this time. If no one told you yet today, good job. Good job for trying, for adjusting, for caring about both your health and your kids. Good job for not quitting on either, and for understanding what a delicate balance of needs that it is. I hope that you don’t give up and don’t get discouraged. When plans change or goals get tangled up in the messy parts of life, don’t worry. Readjust and redirect, but don’t give up on the important stuff. Don’t worry either about it not looking like you thought it would. Just do whatever it is that you can today to make it towards your goal, with thoughtfulness. Give yourself some credit; run your own race. And enjoy some of the perks that are right there before you. If I’m lucky enough, maybe my two year old son will even clap vigorously for me.
This weekend, my brother is getting married. Compatibility has been found between two wonderful people and everyone’s abuzz with excitement. Dresses are hanging in wait, suits are pressed, flowers are gathered and arranged into various bouquets and arrangements, his lovely bride prepares to stun, and he is getting ready to watch her walk down the aisle. As final preparations are made for the big day, I can’t help but think of the road ahead and what I could possibly say to wish them well on their new journey.
.
At first thought, after 14 years of marriage, I was going to say, tongue in cheek, “Good luck; I’ve got nothing.” Because marriage is one of those things that the more you experience, the less you know. Marriage is two imperfect people trying to make their way in this world, and each marriage is unique. You realize that time hasn’t made you a teacher or an expert, but rather a continued student. And really, let’s be honest, advice for marriage is like most kinds of advice in life. It’s cheap to give and hard to earn. Usually, you won’t listen until you actually need it. Most of us only truly learn by experience, and it’s difficult to know what particular advice you’ll need for your journey.
There’s lot of advice. You’ve heard about how “the grass isn’t greener on the other side”, or how important date night is. Of course there’s famous one about “don’t go to bed angry.” (Though, that particular one I disagree with wholeheartedly. Sometimes you need to go to bed in order to feel less angry. The rising of a new day sun can bring clarity, mellowed emotions, or new perspective. If none of those, at least there’s the coffee.) There is more advice than you could shake a wedding favor at.
I think of you, brother; you’re actually in the advice business. You are a financial advisor. The more I thought of it, the more it seems that the best marriage advice is not unlike the best financial advice. The best marriage advice I can think of sound more like an overall strategy. A strategy for martial wellness, of sorts. A long term strategy that stands the test of time.
First, think of this as your single most important investment. It’s more valuable than your retirement funds, your 401k, your Roth, your stocks, your bonds, your entire portfolio. It’s diversified and your approach will change with time. The early years might be more aggressive investments, then you might get to a place where your portfolio is a bit more steady. Your marriage will change with these seasons.
Before I was married, it seemed so beautifully simple to me. Love, cook, enjoy. Sometimes it is. But it’s also changing roles, expectations, and life demands. What you think will change, what you need will change, what you think you need will change. Change with it, learn from it. Grow. Grow with it , grow separately, but not apart. Remember, this is your best investment. Like the best diversified portfolio, it’s worth sticking with it.
So with this in mind, I give you this most important, simple piece of advice.
Never stop investing in the account.
Your currency here is love. Love, not just an emotion, but choices and actions. Even on days or weeks or months that you feel that you hardly have anything at all to give, give anyway. Give something. Because your spouse is worth it; your marriage matters. One small act of kindness makes a difference. One dollar invested is better than two thrown to the wind. Sometimes putting away that currency will feel good. Sometimes it will cost you much. It will cost your pride, it will cost your time. It will sometimes cost your agenda. But it is an investment that always always always brings an incredible rate of return.
Also, don’t expect gains if you’re only making withdrawals. Sometimes when you’re not feeling good enough about the account, you should probably actually should ask yourself what you are you putting in there. Could it be kinder, could it be more loving? Could you put in more laughter or more lightness? Could you listen more openly?
Sometimes the market will be up, way up. Sometimes there will be a downswing. Don’t panic. Stay the course. It will survive the ups and downs. Remember, this is a long term strategy. Quick moves, harsh or reactionary tactics will only hamper your growth. Be patient. Stay the course. This is not a get rich quick scheme, even though right now it does feel like you just won the jackpot. You did. Treat it well. And Just like the market, you don’t lose anything unless you sell.
So the best advice that I have for you is the simplest. The simplest but not the cheapest. Love well. Above all, love. Because as it is said, where your treasure is, there is your heart.
The best marriage advice is not unlike the best financial advice. It sounds more like and overall strategy. A long term strategy that stands the test of time. First, think of this as your single most important investment.
The best accounts put a roof over your head and keep it there; they provide the necessities and hopefully some extras. Marriage will do the same. It will feed you, it will clothe you, it give you a home. It will help facilitate and bring to life the dreams and adventures that are in your heart. It will stand the test of time; it will be there for you when you when you both are old and gray. It will be worth even more than it is even today, all shiny new and beautiful. It will make you truly and completely wealthy in all of the best possible ways.
So yes, good luck. Good luck, invest well, love well, and you will ENJOY great prosperity.
So what’s in a name, anyway? Why did I pick the name “Courting the Extraordinary” for my blog, and what does that even mean? Well, let me tell you!
First, I should take a minute here to tell you what this blog almost was. Or rather, what it was for a quick minute. A few years ago, in 2015 I wrote a blog on a supported website, during a moment or two of inspiration. It was one stand alone piece that was so right at the time. It was exciting to connect some of the dots and dreams that have always been in my heart, but it wasn’t the right time to take it much further, or really, any further at all then.
Life had different plans for that season. The ideas were there, but the timing was for later, and those seeds were germinating for another day. The spark had begun, though the name was slightly different. It was called Courting the Ordinary. That name captured the essence in part- I was ordinary, I loved the ordinary, I could see the purpose and beauty in it all. Yet it was missing something, it was only part of the whole picture. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the very beginning.
As Mary Poppins says, it’s a very good place to start.
We’ll start with the word COURT. It’s not just a nickname for me. (A funny side note about that. When I was born, my grandmother questioned the name Courtney because people might call me Court, and she thought was a bad pun since my dad was a basketball referee. However, she went on to almost exclusively call me Court. I know plenty of people still do call me this, but I actually hardly notice. My brain seems to automatically translates it to my real name. Now the nickname I’ve fully embraced the last 18 years, as crowned by my nephew, is Coco.) Besides it being one of my nicknames, let’s talk about the word COURT.
COURT is a little word with great meaning, even if it’s a bit lost in the modern world. To “court” someone (or maybe even something) is to PURSUE, to engage, to connect with them in a meaningful way. If a man historically “courted” a woman, he sought after her time, her attention, her affection, and ultimately her hand in marriage.
Now think about a time in life when you were pursuing someone or something. Was it a relationship, a degree, a life goal? What did that look like or feel like? One thing is for sure, it was active. Even when you weren’t acting on it, you were actively engaged. It was something you thought about many, many times a day. It’s something that excited you, something that you found time for and chose to engage. What or who you were courting and interested in was always there, in a sense- top of heart and mind- even when you were tending to other parts of life. It was an internal and driving priority in your life. Remember that feeling? It’s exciting, isn’t it?!
Well, guess what. Our lives are currently available for that level of engagement. From us. Just hold that thought for a minute and we’ll talk about the rest of the name.
What about extraordinary? What do I even mean by that? Am I talking about beautiful places, lovely things, wonderful experiences. Sure, why not. Those are there for sure. But that’s not really all that I’m talking about here. I’m talking about EVERYDAY LIFE. Every day, ORDINARY life. But that’s not the same as extraordinary, is it, you wonder? Isn’t that actually the opposite?
Let’s think about the things that make up our lives. The things we do and the places that we go every day. They are probably 80%, on the very conservative average, ORDINARY. Wake up, drink coffee (um, yessss), brush hair, wash yourself, wear clothes, clean clothes, eat food, make food, buy food, go to work, kiss family, drive down the street, check the web, laugh (hopefully), spill something, forget something, get inspired for 67 seconds, get frustrated for 3 minutes, put away something, pick up a book, smile, wash a dish, help someone, then on to the next thing. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
It’s so much ORDINARY.
But guess what? Hidden in all of those very ordinary life experiences is often something very extraordinary. You just need to be able to see it.
t might be inspiration like a verse for a song resonating in your heart, a human connection, a kiss on the cheek from your loved one. It’s the beauty of the mug passed down from your grandmother. It’s a glint of light shining on a tree, casting it in a golden glow before your eyes. It’s the feeling of an invisible hug or an inspired moment. They happen fast. We have to watch for them, or we might miss them. They are flashes of beauty that deserve to be appreciated. But in order to be appreciated, they must first been seen.
When you do, for that moment, you can’t help but be moved by the beauty of that object or by the meaning of that moment. You pause and you feel it as much as you see it.
Imagine seeing the whole of your life that way. Imagine feeling that way about your life and feeling that way often.
Now imagine that YOU can be the one which causes it to glow like that. Your thoughtful attention to the ordinary things can bring out the extraordinary. Because really, the mere act of noticing the ordinary turns it into something less ordinary. Pouring love and light into these moments enacts and enables the divine. Courting the ordinary turns it into the extraordinary.
When we do notice these moments and circumstances of beauty, is that the act of seeing seems to create more. If you care enough for your life that you look for the good, that positive attention alone will actually cause more goodness.
You know what that feels like, I’d bet. When someone tells you that’s you’re beautiful, you actually feel a bit more beautiful. If your children are told that they’re smart or important, they beam, feeling smarter and more important. Just hearing those things can make them even more true.
So here is where they meet. “Courting the Extraordinary”. In our everyday lives, can we do that? Can we first see what’s already there and is beautiful? Can we choose to look beyond what’s directly in front of us, demanding our immediate attention? Can we find the extraordinary that is hidden right under our noses, clothed in the ordinary? Much like a robin’s speckled blue promise of an egg, nestled in an ordinary brown nest, can we find the possibility of wonderful in our own patchwork of sticks and mud? I think we can.
If you really decide to shower your life, right where it is now, with love and attention, imagine how you, your home, your family, your workplace, and the life that is all around you, will blossom.
If you care about it enough to find the greatness that’s there, you will in fact create more greatness. That’s what really happens when one person courts another, isn’t it? The beauty of the pursued blossoms. If we can be purposeful with our gaze, then these ordinary things and ordinary days can become, in our hearts and our lives, extraordinary.
Let’s go and find more extraordinary. And so, make more, too. I’ll be here doing the same- finding it hidden, hopefully, under loads of laundry, in morning kid-kisses, and nestled in lots of the ordinary.
xo, Courtney (also Court, Coco, wife, mom, seeker, and courter of the extraordinary….)
Hey there busy friend! I know we probably only have a few minutes together here, because, let’s face it, you’ve got a lot to do. The laundry just buzzed that it’s finished, the dishes are waiting on you, the dog needs a walk, and you’ve got errands to run today. (Or is it just me?!) Once the kids get up and the day really starts rolling, it’ll probably be hustle and juggle until the sun goes down. Plus a couple of hours. Just the thought of it makes you want to close this browser, stop delaying and move along, I know! That’s a good thing, in general. But wait! Before you rush off, can we talk for just a minute? It just might help you with what lies ahead today.
Do you have a to do list? Do you love it because checking off those finished items gives you such a sense of accomplishment? Or do you hate it because no matter how many things you check off, there’s ALWAYS MORE? Maybe you feel a little bit of both. I know that I do. I have the same love/hate relationship with it sometimes.
Because life doesn’t always go along in ways that work with my neat little to do lists.
How about when life throws curveballs and it becomes difficult to make any forward progress? Like when you’re sick or the kids are having a rough time. Or you’ve got something coming up and all of your energy is focused on one thing for the moment, and maybe it’s even one you didn’t choose, like taxes, a big work project or your kid’s science project, or maybe even worse. Life’s inevitables and inconveniences, big or small, can disrupt our already bustling existence. The mental to do list that can’t get checked off can leave us feeling defeated.
But even when the do list is shot, your day doesn’t have to be. Because living in this imperfect world, there’s a lot of room for error. These are merely chances to reframe how we look at things.
Here’s the trick I’ve learned on the days that there seems to be very little progress moving forward, very few check marks, and sometimes, not even a chance to think about the list.
I make a mental list. The DONE LIST.
What have I done today that has added any value to this life of mine, to this home, to these people? I have done this over and over when the days don’t go well, when my patience is thin, when someone is sick or having a bad day, when the weather is raining on our parade, when I haven’t felt enough. I have stood at the kitchen sink or in the shower (sometimes the only alone thinking place, am I right?) and I have counted the things that I have done. I start small and the list usually grows.
I have fed my children. I didn’t yell when I wanted to. I wiped the nose when needed. I restarted the project. I soothed the tears. I kept the house in one piece (mostly). I talked to someone I love and encouraged them. I extended grace. I earned a paycheck. I helped a client. I made the lunches and drove the car safely, everywhere we needed to go today. I took out the trash. I made my bed. I stayed where I was when I wanted to run and hide.
Sometimes, there’s lots of imperfect.
“I sat and read a book with my child, even when my mind was tired or sad or hurting.”
“I did one load of laundry (even thought there are seven still waiting.)”
Hidden in the “done” there are little pieces of seeming failure.
“I said I’m sorry” points to some existence of failure. But these are not total failures. If you can find a positive, there’s enough to count it a win. Even the awful, tricky bits of failures have a seed of hope. (What did you learn, what did you not do that could have been worse?)
Don’t worry, this trick is not meant to make you feel better about being a terrible person. This isn’t supposed to justify bad decisions or solidify bad behaviors. This is meant to help you find the good, and finding what’s truly good helps you identify and create more good. If you identify current success, it can help you reach for more. If you can find success in small ways, you will continually spur yourself on toward greater ones.
So much of life is lived in the space between your ears and you can find a way to become your own inner cheerleader, you will have a better chance ataccomplishing what it is you’re meant to.
So when there are times that you feel defeated or like you’re failing a little (or maybe even a lot), make yourself your DONE LIST. Maybe even write it down. Start naming what you HAVE done and you’ll begin to know just how much value you already add to this world, even on the less significant days. Because just showing up for your life over and over again is a great win.
I don’t like to make promises I can’t keep, but I promise that if you can make your own DONE LIST the next time you face a bunch of “undone”, you will feel better. You will appreciate what you DID do. Start where you are and count success, no matter how small.
Because your small acts really have already accomplished a lot. Sometimes the to do list wasn’t that important for today anyway. Becoming who you’re meant to be was, and is.
Spring can be a long time coming. When you are waiting for warmth and you’re ready to move on to brighter days ahead, it can seem to take forever. Especially if you live in the northeast or Midwest, like I do. Just last week, our region woke up to a dazzling coating of snow on everything. The calendar said that spring was coming that very week, there at the end of March, yet the reality was, it was winter. Again. That can be pretty disappointing.
But, you know what? It was beautiful. It was dazzlingly beautiful. It was the kind of beautiful that takes your breath away. And no, not just because it was so cold. I may sound crazy, or be kind of lonely in this perspective, but I thought it was amazing. I also think that even the deepest cynic and toughest winter critic would have a hard time denying this beauty if they really saw it. No matter how bothersome or inconvenient, it was beautiful.
As I walked that morning, I took note of what I saw. The sky was wide and a tender blue. The sun was coming up gently, slowly warming in color, if not in temperature. It began to shine on the snow, creating a billion sparkles. Because the snow was there, I could see things that normally couldn’t be seen. Like the dazzling way that the snow is resting, undisturbed on elegant tree branches, and even the very sparkle of the snow itself. There were the tiny footprints of birds- the same birds who have industriously been preparing for spring. I’ve been hearing their morning activity increase in purpose and commence earlier as of late. They have been busily feathering their nests to prepare for spring eggs and new life. On other patches of pristine white I see where the adventurous bunny or two has crisscrossed the neighborhood.
These small footprints are reminders that we aren’t alone in this smash up of seasons. Perhaps these animals, and others, were as puzzled this snowy morning as we were, or even frustrated. Small feathered wings must be cold. Bunnies must be dashing back to after their conquests, seeking the warm shelter of their cozy holes. Not to be forgotten are the buds and blooms that yet wait their turn to come. Nature, like us, is waiting for spring, but stepping on snow.
After five long months of cold, we all now crave spring. We want to step outside without gloves and heavy coats. We want to rest in the fresh air and not protect ourselves from its fierceness. We crave the new life of flowers and green grass. I am craving spring right along with everyone else. As I wear my winter parka and trod with thick boots and make sure to cover my ears, my head is still replaying the Jimmy Buffet songs that I heard from the basement while my husband was riding his bike on the trainer. My minx thought, as you oten do when you hear Jimmy Buffet, of tropical places, frosty drinks, and kids dancing with bare feet and bare arms. These places and feeling lie beyond my reality, as far off as distant dreams. Because there I was, walking outside in the snow.
It can be bothersome in so many ways. It “shouldn’t be” snowing. It “should be” spring. But it isn’t quite looking that way right now. We all know, too well perhaps, that we can’t change the weather. There’s nothing any of us can do about it (except maybe book a plane ticket out.)
Sometimes winter is an actual season in our lives, and sometimes it’s a state of our hearts. Are you stuck in a winter and waiting for spring? In your body or in your heart? What are the *should be* and the *shouldn’t be*’s in your life?
I should be pregnant by now.
She shouldn’t be sick.
I shouldn’t have to deal with this difficult relationship.
I should be further along in my career goals.
They should be more understanding.
It shouldn’t be this hard.
Whatever undesired current situation is taking up room in your life that you can’t control or you can’t wish away, that is your snow in springtime. A cold front came in and has dropped a ridiculous amount of resistance and mess onto your life, disrupting your “next” or your “best” , your plans, and there was nothing that you could do to stop it. A blanket of cold is dampening your dreams and your growth. Things are causing you disappointment and you can’t do anything to stop the snow.
The only thing you can change, though, is what you see when you’re in that ridiculous encore of winter. Just because it’s still cold and wintry outside, it doesn’t mean that your heart needs to be cold with winter. Here’s what you can do, instead of simmering with frustration, feeling the cold of disappointment or loosing your grip on hope.
1. FIND SOME BEAUTY- To what will you pay your attention today? The snow what seems to taunt you, reminding you that you’re not where you want to be? Or can you notice some sliver of sunshine or a kind of beauty that IS there? Can you find a shred of opportunity? Can you let go for long enough to notice something that wouldn’t be possible or present without your particular snow? Maybe it’s the of the warmth of a blanket around your shoulders as you try to recover, or the commiserating phone call with friend. Is it the chance to be with a loved one a little extra, even if it’s as you endure a doctor visit. Do you see the sparkle of a billion snowflakes? The tiny footprints in the snow, reminding you that you’re not alone? Is there the chance to build one last snowman with your kids?
Don’t spend so much time looking at what you don’t like, that you miss something else that may be worth noticing or an worth enjoying.
2- FIND SOME COMFORT – Sometimes the snow isn’t pretty at all. Its messy and blowing and bitter cold. Later that week when another snow comes, accompanied by howling winds, I will not find or seek beauty outside as much as I will be forced to make or find it inside. I will revel in the comfort of my warm socks. I will read or bake, perhaps both, creating some sense of sunshine. I will lay out a blanket in the living room and have a picnic inside with toast and grapes. There will be nothing really special about it except that we will be together and we won’t be hurried. It may not be where we might wish, in our dreams, to spend a Saturday in spring. But looking back it will be special enough. Just because.
3- TAKE THE REST- When extra opportunity to hibernate is thrust upon us, even as we wish for spring, it will allow some extra time before the eager business of growth and spring comes. Take it. Use it. (For spring is busy and wonderful and full of life. You will need your strength.) Trust that even in winter, you are working towards spring. Even the rest can be preparing you for a more dazzling spring.
So if today finds you waiting for your spring, can you find some inherent beauty? Can you find some hidden comfort? Can you take the rest and infuse energy into your core? Don’t despise the day you’re in, even while you’re waiting for winter to truly pass.
Think of the brave spring flowers that lie beneath the dirt and snow, unseen but yet awakening, delicate yet bold. The daffodils, crocuses and snow drops are growing before winter fully passes. They are soaking up the soft rays of sun and they are beginning their work before you ever see them. They bravely begin growing in spite of winter.
Instead of just bemoaning the long delay of winter, and waiting for spring to happen to you, be like the early flowers. Collect the slivers of sunshine and use them to warm your own soul. Even if it’s only a hint of a silver lining or a half of a ray of sunshine, it will give your spirit the courage to hold on for spring. It will warm your hands and your heart just enough that, hope upon hope, as you wait for the earth to join, you will find yourself already growing. You’ll be one that actually heralds the arrival of spring, as you stand there, blooming. All because you were brave enough to find beauty in what began as disappointment. You took comfort instead of choosing despair. You were wise enough to rest and remember that no matter how long winter may hold on, it does, indeed pass. Spring has to start somewhere. It might as well begin in your heart.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love. 