Along the outside edge of the clearing, they eagerly collected berries: blackberries, raspberries, wine berries... whichever ones were in season. I used to worry that they would eat the wrong kind of berry and get sick, but my husband has been well-trained on edible wild berries, and has passed that knowledge along to his children. He patiently watches over them and helps them determine if the berry is ripe, and cautions them about the thorns. I love to watch them together, creating berry-flavored memories.
Some things are just bad for you. No matter how much you want it to work out. No matter how optimistic you might be. Too much sugar, for one thing - my personal demon. I can't stay away. Well, I can, actually. I tried it for a week just to see if I could do it. The first seven days of 2011, I ate zero sugar - not in my coffee, not in my cereal - I didn't even use condiments. Of course there are people who pointed out how sugar still managed to sneak in by other means, but I'm going to ignore their negativity because I know I did something big when I said no to sugar. For a person who gets offered a five-pound bag of sugar as a joke, every time she visits her brat of a big brother, that is a huge deal.
Unfortunately, there are also people who can be bad for you. Most people have someone in their life who is constantly showering them with negativity, or sucking the life out of them by being too needy or demanding. Come on, admit it... someone just popped into your mind, right?
A few years ago, my husband and I had someone in our lives who turned his back on his family, including us. He stopped speaking to everyone, for very petty reasons - reasons unique to each relationship. I tried so hard to bring about reconciliation. I sent letters. I pleaded. I used all the logic I could come up with. I sought counseling. How do you reason with someone who wants nothing to do with you?
I was directed to this verse: Romans 12:18. "If possible, so far as it depends on you, be at peace with all men." It could only be up to me for so long. Eventually, I had to let go. When I finally did, I had peace. The reconciliation never came. I doubt it ever will. But I know that I gave it every chance.
That relationship was toxic and it really took a toll on me. I have noticed that about me, how being around negative people drags me down. I've felt anxiety, depression, and irritability, just from being around certain people for too long.
There have been times when my husband asked me outright, "have you been talking to ....?" He sees it too, the effect certain people have on my temperament. He has also been known to warn me about people before I get to that point, but I don't listen. Too optimistic for my own good. I keep thinking I can out-positive their negative, but it never works. Sometimes it's healthier to keep the toxic contact to a minimum. Stress is not good for your health.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Morning Glory
The twins were so enamored with the morning glories that they made a beeline for the backyard as soon as they woke up in the morning. They sniff the flowers and giggle when the petals "hug" their noses. The morning glories don't seem to need a lot of attention. If they did, we would not have them because I couldn't keep a plant alive if my life depended on it. But the morning glories seem to find their own way back, holding on to the fence and flourishing despite my worst efforts.
It happened. I was spotted and confronted about my non-attendance at church. He asked me where I was attending. I told him no where. He asked a few questions and for some reason I felt like opening up about my reasons. About feeling lost in a sea of strangers on a Sunday morning. I should have known what would happen.
First I was told it's because I wasn't attending enough. Should be coming to Sunday school as well. I didn't tell him I tried that. I did continue for a bit to tell him how disconnected I felt and even used the words "like no one saw me". I'm not sure if he heard that part before another family got his attention and he walked away. While I was still talking.
He didn't mean to do that. I know this man would never intentionally prove someone's point in such an obvious way, while trying to tell them they were wrong. No one ever meant to do it. Keep in mind that I know in my head this was not intentional, while I tell you what it did to my feelings. And please keep in mind that even if it's "wrong" to feel the way I do, I still feel it. Judge me if you want, but this is raw honesty. It's genuine.
My first feeling was that of foolishness. He almost had me thinking it was all in my head before. He almost had me thinking I'd be at home there if I gave it another try. I had already been mentally checking my calendar for the next available Sunday morning that I could come for church.
Secondly, I felt like I was being written off. He had heard enough and didn't feel like I was worth any more of his time. I heard him speak once on a verse, I don't remember which one he was using but I remember with vivid clarity that he said it meant, if you don't repent, God will say "I give up on you." That one statement reverberates in my memory. It caused me to question everything I had been taught about God. About His forgiveness. About His long-suffering. About His patience.
He didn't know how hard I had tried to find where I fit in. I used to have my place there, but that ministry was disassembled. I talked to people and tried to find other ways to fit in. As soon as one person gave me a suggestion, another would come along and make me doubt whether I would be welcome in that group. I tried.
I am planning to visit another church this weekend. A friend from boot camp is preaching and I want to go. Another very good friend of mine attends there, so I know I won't be sitting by myself. It feels like this door closed as soon as his back was turned on me, so I'm ready to start searching again. Searching for genuine.
It happened. I was spotted and confronted about my non-attendance at church. He asked me where I was attending. I told him no where. He asked a few questions and for some reason I felt like opening up about my reasons. About feeling lost in a sea of strangers on a Sunday morning. I should have known what would happen.
First I was told it's because I wasn't attending enough. Should be coming to Sunday school as well. I didn't tell him I tried that. I did continue for a bit to tell him how disconnected I felt and even used the words "like no one saw me". I'm not sure if he heard that part before another family got his attention and he walked away. While I was still talking.
He didn't mean to do that. I know this man would never intentionally prove someone's point in such an obvious way, while trying to tell them they were wrong. No one ever meant to do it. Keep in mind that I know in my head this was not intentional, while I tell you what it did to my feelings. And please keep in mind that even if it's "wrong" to feel the way I do, I still feel it. Judge me if you want, but this is raw honesty. It's genuine.
My first feeling was that of foolishness. He almost had me thinking it was all in my head before. He almost had me thinking I'd be at home there if I gave it another try. I had already been mentally checking my calendar for the next available Sunday morning that I could come for church.
Secondly, I felt like I was being written off. He had heard enough and didn't feel like I was worth any more of his time. I heard him speak once on a verse, I don't remember which one he was using but I remember with vivid clarity that he said it meant, if you don't repent, God will say "I give up on you." That one statement reverberates in my memory. It caused me to question everything I had been taught about God. About His forgiveness. About His long-suffering. About His patience.
He didn't know how hard I had tried to find where I fit in. I used to have my place there, but that ministry was disassembled. I talked to people and tried to find other ways to fit in. As soon as one person gave me a suggestion, another would come along and make me doubt whether I would be welcome in that group. I tried.
I am planning to visit another church this weekend. A friend from boot camp is preaching and I want to go. Another very good friend of mine attends there, so I know I won't be sitting by myself. It feels like this door closed as soon as his back was turned on me, so I'm ready to start searching again. Searching for genuine.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Skunk
We had already been running at least two miles and only had about a mile left. KC saw it before we did, and pointed to the little tree where the skunk was foraging around. We crossed to the opposite sidewalk to avoid taking home an unpleasant souvenir, but I was so excited to see it and watched it the whole time we passed. I've always thought skunks were adorable. I feel sorry for the cute little things. No one ever wants to get close to them because of the one single thing they know about them. They stink.
It's a delicate thing, seeing the ugly side of yourself. Nobody wants to. When we do, we are either defensive of it, blaming our upbringing or our circumstances or our experiences. Or we become self-loathing and focus on that one ugly thing, forgetting all the other things that make us beautiful. I'm not talking about physical appearance.
I've been analyzing myself today. Already, before 7:00 am. I've been asking myself, "would I want a friend like me?", "would I want a spouse like me?", "would I want a mom like me?". Stepping outside myself like that is a little uncomfortable. I'm seeing things that I want to change. I don't know if it's a healthy practice or not, but we all have room for improvement. Most people won't tell you where you need it. And those who will usually make us angry in doing so.
This time of self-evalutaion inspires me to take action and make the changes I want to see in myself. I'm already making a mental list of what I'm going to do as soon as I finish writing this. It's also helped me to see some things I like about myself. I don't think it's arrogant to appreciate certain things about yourself. You should strive to be the kind of person you are proud of. Acknowledging what is good about you can give you the confidence you need to make the changes you want to make.
There is good and bad in everyone. Whether you are looking at someone else, or looking at yourself, if you look for the bad, you will find it. And if you look for the good, you will find it.
It's a delicate thing, seeing the ugly side of yourself. Nobody wants to. When we do, we are either defensive of it, blaming our upbringing or our circumstances or our experiences. Or we become self-loathing and focus on that one ugly thing, forgetting all the other things that make us beautiful. I'm not talking about physical appearance.
I've been analyzing myself today. Already, before 7:00 am. I've been asking myself, "would I want a friend like me?", "would I want a spouse like me?", "would I want a mom like me?". Stepping outside myself like that is a little uncomfortable. I'm seeing things that I want to change. I don't know if it's a healthy practice or not, but we all have room for improvement. Most people won't tell you where you need it. And those who will usually make us angry in doing so.
This time of self-evalutaion inspires me to take action and make the changes I want to see in myself. I'm already making a mental list of what I'm going to do as soon as I finish writing this. It's also helped me to see some things I like about myself. I don't think it's arrogant to appreciate certain things about yourself. You should strive to be the kind of person you are proud of. Acknowledging what is good about you can give you the confidence you need to make the changes you want to make.
There is good and bad in everyone. Whether you are looking at someone else, or looking at yourself, if you look for the bad, you will find it. And if you look for the good, you will find it.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Alter Ego
I stopped abruptly and froze when I saw her. One of my kids bumped into me, and I held out an arm to keep him from moving forward, whispering with excitement, "Look! Over there next to the tree!" Until now, I had never seen a deer lying down in the woods. She was unconcerned with our presence, and we were able to get a good, long look. I slowly brought up my camera and tried to get a picture, but there was some brush in the way, confusing the auto-focus. She saw me. There's no way she didn't. But deer at Peace Valley know they are safe and have become accustomed to human visitors in their world.
Here is what I love about DDIP, and why I think it stands out from other workout programs. First of all, it is a community. I've taken other exercise classes in the past and never knew the names of any of the other participants, and rarely knew the name of the instructor. In DDIP we have a rotation of instructors, all with memorable names. Names like Hurricane, Diesel, Mad Dog, Iron Mike. They know you by name. They watch you and call out encouragement or challenges to you, and they care.
When I was feeling down the other day, I could see Hurricane watching me. I didn't want her to see me give up, so I worked harder, and felt so much better afterward, because of it. Today, Drill was there, and he kept his eye on me, too, knowing my struggles. But today I'm feeling better, and I was smiling most of the morning, enjoying every moment - especially the trail run.
DDIP fosters relationships. We write our name on the back of our shirt so we can get to know each other, and motivate and cheer people on by name. We occasionally have games or races - always good-natured and encouraging. If anyone falls behind or struggles with an exercise, there is always someone who will run back out and finish it with them. Sometimes several people. Games always end with high fives and pats on the back and never with sore losers or arrogance.
We each have an Accountability Buddy to help motivate, encourage, and challenge us to do our best. What you put in, you get out. An AB makes you less likely to skip just because you don't feel like going. Sometimes they will give you a wake-up call or email you between classes to keep you motivated. They are there for you when you do partner-assisted exercises. The AB changes every session, so you have a chance to get to know someone else a little better, and to keep things from getting too predictable. A lot of people have made lifelong friends this way.
Most of us have nicknames. I'm not entirely sure what the purpose for this is, but for me, it gives me a feeling of strength and confidence, sort of like my super hero persona. It allows me to step outside myself and do things the old me would never think possible. I think having nicknames gives people a closer connection, like a shared secret that people in the outside world don't understand.
Best of all, DDIP reaches out into the community. Once every session, over 100 of us gather donations and hand-deliver them to a local charity that serves the needy. (see my post entitled "Manna Run" for more on this.)
When I get to DDIP in the morning, I feel like I step into another reality, with my alter-ego and super powers. My first session, one of the instructors asked that people not talk about their work problems during warm ups. They want us to feel like this is our escape from the stress of life and focus on ourselves for this hour we have together. In this alternate universe, we even have our own language. Outsiders may need a translator to understand terms and phrases like "ZDT", "IVMF", "Crumble the Booger", and why we say "Warriors, come out and plaaaayyy!"
Here is what I love about DDIP, and why I think it stands out from other workout programs. First of all, it is a community. I've taken other exercise classes in the past and never knew the names of any of the other participants, and rarely knew the name of the instructor. In DDIP we have a rotation of instructors, all with memorable names. Names like Hurricane, Diesel, Mad Dog, Iron Mike. They know you by name. They watch you and call out encouragement or challenges to you, and they care.
When I was feeling down the other day, I could see Hurricane watching me. I didn't want her to see me give up, so I worked harder, and felt so much better afterward, because of it. Today, Drill was there, and he kept his eye on me, too, knowing my struggles. But today I'm feeling better, and I was smiling most of the morning, enjoying every moment - especially the trail run.
DDIP fosters relationships. We write our name on the back of our shirt so we can get to know each other, and motivate and cheer people on by name. We occasionally have games or races - always good-natured and encouraging. If anyone falls behind or struggles with an exercise, there is always someone who will run back out and finish it with them. Sometimes several people. Games always end with high fives and pats on the back and never with sore losers or arrogance.
We each have an Accountability Buddy to help motivate, encourage, and challenge us to do our best. What you put in, you get out. An AB makes you less likely to skip just because you don't feel like going. Sometimes they will give you a wake-up call or email you between classes to keep you motivated. They are there for you when you do partner-assisted exercises. The AB changes every session, so you have a chance to get to know someone else a little better, and to keep things from getting too predictable. A lot of people have made lifelong friends this way.
Most of us have nicknames. I'm not entirely sure what the purpose for this is, but for me, it gives me a feeling of strength and confidence, sort of like my super hero persona. It allows me to step outside myself and do things the old me would never think possible. I think having nicknames gives people a closer connection, like a shared secret that people in the outside world don't understand.
Best of all, DDIP reaches out into the community. Once every session, over 100 of us gather donations and hand-deliver them to a local charity that serves the needy. (see my post entitled "Manna Run" for more on this.)
When I get to DDIP in the morning, I feel like I step into another reality, with my alter-ego and super powers. My first session, one of the instructors asked that people not talk about their work problems during warm ups. They want us to feel like this is our escape from the stress of life and focus on ourselves for this hour we have together. In this alternate universe, we even have our own language. Outsiders may need a translator to understand terms and phrases like "ZDT", "IVMF", "Crumble the Booger", and why we say "Warriors, come out and plaaaayyy!"
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Bridges
A lot of people would have turned back when they got to where the bridge used to be, especially in January, with snow on the ground. Even after hiking at least four miles, most would prefer to backtrack four miles than do what we were about to do - wade through mid-calf-length, freezing cold water. But we are DDIPers. We take on challenges like this for fun. One by one, we crossed, placing one foot after another on the slippery rocks, and being very careful not to fall. Captain Cook didn't want me to take her picture, but I did it anyway. Only because no one offered to take one of me and I felt this had to be documented. After crossing, we paused to regroup and continued on the trail in our freezing, sopping wet shoes and big, goofy grins.
I've had a lot on my mind lately about relationships and how people communicate with each other. I mentioned before how important words are to me and a lot has been going on in my life regarding words, both spoken and unspoken. How they can build bridges of friendship and how they can tear them down.
There is a man I really look up to, who passed away a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. He said something once that I'll never forget. He said, "it is always in your best interest to make other people look good." I would venture to add that it is also in your best interest to make them feel good. I think he would agree with me.
While in the hospital undergoing painful, draining treatments, he still shared a smile and a kind word with everyone he encountered. In the midst of his deepest suffering, he would still ask how you were doing, and actually care about the answer. He was known for it by both hospital staff and other patients. No matter how big his problem was, he still cared about the feelings and concerns of others.
I enjoy making people feel good about themselves. I have been known to send a text out of the blue to someone with a cheery hello and a compliment. This may be selfish, but I love what I get out of that. I get to see how happy it makes them to be remembered. To be appreciated. And sometimes they say nice things back, which is icing on the cake.
So, in thinking about words, I've compiled a little list. It is by no means exhaustive, but includes some of the best examples I can think of for bridge-building words:
1. I'm here if you need anything.
2. You are worth my time.
3. I'm listening.
4. I'm sorry.
5. I forgive you.
I've had a lot on my mind lately about relationships and how people communicate with each other. I mentioned before how important words are to me and a lot has been going on in my life regarding words, both spoken and unspoken. How they can build bridges of friendship and how they can tear them down.
There is a man I really look up to, who passed away a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. He said something once that I'll never forget. He said, "it is always in your best interest to make other people look good." I would venture to add that it is also in your best interest to make them feel good. I think he would agree with me.
While in the hospital undergoing painful, draining treatments, he still shared a smile and a kind word with everyone he encountered. In the midst of his deepest suffering, he would still ask how you were doing, and actually care about the answer. He was known for it by both hospital staff and other patients. No matter how big his problem was, he still cared about the feelings and concerns of others.
I enjoy making people feel good about themselves. I have been known to send a text out of the blue to someone with a cheery hello and a compliment. This may be selfish, but I love what I get out of that. I get to see how happy it makes them to be remembered. To be appreciated. And sometimes they say nice things back, which is icing on the cake.
So, in thinking about words, I've compiled a little list. It is by no means exhaustive, but includes some of the best examples I can think of for bridge-building words:
1. I'm here if you need anything.
2. You are worth my time.
3. I'm listening.
4. I'm sorry.
5. I forgive you.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Heart of Stone
She walked along the creek with her daddy, talking about things that occupy an eleven-year-old's mind. One of the stones on the ground caught her eye and she picked it up to show him. It was shaped like a heart, which made it an instant keepsake of their day together. The stone was smooth from being beaten with water and rolled in the creek for who knew how long. Amazing how something so beautiful and meaningful could come from such harsh conditions.
I thought I would feel better today but I started out feeling down and spent most of the day wallowing in self pity. I kept replaying in my mind everything that has been said or done recently that has made me feel worthless and despised. I'm not saying anyone set out to make me feel that way, just that I felt it. Sometimes our minds make up their own interpretations.
I've talked to several people lately who are having their own struggles with self esteem. It's really sad when people don't realize their value. One young lady has been told unthinkable things by her mother and step-mother, things that made her feel unlovable and unloved. She yearns for someone to love, who will love her back, but always has those little voices inside telling her she's not worth it, keeping her down and challenging any personal victory she might have.
Another friend is always surprised when I compliment her looks, or her inner beauty that makes her one of the nicest people I've ever met. She says that people just don't say these things to her. She has gone through something recently that really tore her self esteem apart. I don't know the details, I only recognize the sadness. I see it in so many people.
I want the people in my life to know how precious and valuable they are. There is a reason for their lives. There are people who love them, even if they can't see or hear them through all those inner voices trying to scramble the signal. Being dashed on the rocks hasn't destroyed them. It has only enhanced their beauty. It is how they became who they are. They are beautiful.
I thought I would feel better today but I started out feeling down and spent most of the day wallowing in self pity. I kept replaying in my mind everything that has been said or done recently that has made me feel worthless and despised. I'm not saying anyone set out to make me feel that way, just that I felt it. Sometimes our minds make up their own interpretations.
I've talked to several people lately who are having their own struggles with self esteem. It's really sad when people don't realize their value. One young lady has been told unthinkable things by her mother and step-mother, things that made her feel unlovable and unloved. She yearns for someone to love, who will love her back, but always has those little voices inside telling her she's not worth it, keeping her down and challenging any personal victory she might have.
Another friend is always surprised when I compliment her looks, or her inner beauty that makes her one of the nicest people I've ever met. She says that people just don't say these things to her. She has gone through something recently that really tore her self esteem apart. I don't know the details, I only recognize the sadness. I see it in so many people.
I want the people in my life to know how precious and valuable they are. There is a reason for their lives. There are people who love them, even if they can't see or hear them through all those inner voices trying to scramble the signal. Being dashed on the rocks hasn't destroyed them. It has only enhanced their beauty. It is how they became who they are. They are beautiful.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Letters
We sat on the side of the creek with our fishing gear. Not a lot of gear, just what I felt comfortable using without my husband's help, since he was at work that day. The baby was in his car carrier on the ground next to me, sleeping peacefully, while I fished with my friend. It was fun to have girl talk in a not-so-girl setting, and I was proud of myself for not waiting for my man to help me. I was pretty sure he would be proud, too. After all, how many men have a wife who is interested in fishing - enough to go on her own? I took a picture of a snake in the water. We caught a few fish. It was a lovely afternoon on that Florida creek. I would have enjoyed the camping trip I missed out on years ago.
The summer after my high school graduation, I disappointed some of my closest friends. I had a boyfriend at the time and I chose to skip a week at the state park, camping with my friends to be home with him. My friends and I had planned that week for a long time, and talked at great length of the memories we would make this last summer vacation before moving on to the next phase of our lives. But I backed out and someone else went in my place.
One of my friends was especially angry. There may have been other things going on at the time that I can't remember, but for some reason she was done with me. She no longer spoke to me, and left for the military without ever saying goodbye. I was crushed.
I didn't give up on her, though. I knew that she was going to need support and encouragement during her basic training, far away from her family. I decided to give her that support whether she wanted it or not. I didn't care if she didn't write back, I sent letters regularly. I never heard from her the entire time. I forget how many weeks it was, but I'm sure she remembers.
There was probably a bit of stubbornness in that decision, but there was also a lot of real concern for her as well. Sometime after she completed her training, she contacted me. We went back to being friends, maybe not as close as we had been before, but we spent time together again. She told me that my letters had been a big help to her while she was away.
I didn't do that so I could tell the story later and look like the good guy. I did it because I truly care about my friends. We had been through too much together to let one big fight destroy everything. There are people in my life now who mean that much to me but they may not realize it. I wonder sometimes who would do that for me. I'm feeling a little bit down today. I'm not sure why, but everything is irritating me and I just want to wrap up in the warmth of my home and family. Tomorrow will be better.
The summer after my high school graduation, I disappointed some of my closest friends. I had a boyfriend at the time and I chose to skip a week at the state park, camping with my friends to be home with him. My friends and I had planned that week for a long time, and talked at great length of the memories we would make this last summer vacation before moving on to the next phase of our lives. But I backed out and someone else went in my place.
One of my friends was especially angry. There may have been other things going on at the time that I can't remember, but for some reason she was done with me. She no longer spoke to me, and left for the military without ever saying goodbye. I was crushed.
I didn't give up on her, though. I knew that she was going to need support and encouragement during her basic training, far away from her family. I decided to give her that support whether she wanted it or not. I didn't care if she didn't write back, I sent letters regularly. I never heard from her the entire time. I forget how many weeks it was, but I'm sure she remembers.
There was probably a bit of stubbornness in that decision, but there was also a lot of real concern for her as well. Sometime after she completed her training, she contacted me. We went back to being friends, maybe not as close as we had been before, but we spent time together again. She told me that my letters had been a big help to her while she was away.
I didn't do that so I could tell the story later and look like the good guy. I did it because I truly care about my friends. We had been through too much together to let one big fight destroy everything. There are people in my life now who mean that much to me but they may not realize it. I wonder sometimes who would do that for me. I'm feeling a little bit down today. I'm not sure why, but everything is irritating me and I just want to wrap up in the warmth of my home and family. Tomorrow will be better.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Dragonfly
The instant I had the camera steady and focused, index finger on the button, it darted away again. I watched it move restlessly from one leaf to another, barely stopping. There were four or five of them - dragonflies or damselflies, I can never tell the difference - and none were willing to pose for me. They were a test of both my patience and the zoom feature on my camera. After pursuing them for a good five minutes, one paused just long enough for me to see, adjust, focus, and snap a picture.
Sometimes it seems like life is just a constant pursuit of a moving target. We are always reaching for something, waiting for something, that is just beyond our grasp. As kids we want to be teenagers. As teens we want to go to college. In college we dream of that perfect career, and/or having a family of our own.
As soon as we reach a goal, we set a new one. It's good to move forward, to reach and strive for something bigger and better. But when will it be time for contentment? Leo Tolstoy wrote a short story called "How Much Land Does a Man Need" about a man who was never content with what he had, but always wanting more, until he lost everything in his pursuit of it. Is that the circle of life - want, build up, acquire, want more, lose it all? That would be so sad!
I don't feel that contentment is the same as saying, "I have more than that person," or "at least I don't have to go through what they are going through." To me, contentment is that moment when you look around and think to yourself, "right now, there is nothing that I need to make me happy."
This doesn't seem to come easy to most people. Overwhelmed by responsibilities and needs and desires, we constantly pursue that moving target without ever stopping to enjoy the feeling of contentment. But if we stop darting about in our pursuits, and let time stand still for just a few moments to enjoy where we are, doesn't that make it all worthwhile?
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Sometimes it seems like life is just a constant pursuit of a moving target. We are always reaching for something, waiting for something, that is just beyond our grasp. As kids we want to be teenagers. As teens we want to go to college. In college we dream of that perfect career, and/or having a family of our own.
As soon as we reach a goal, we set a new one. It's good to move forward, to reach and strive for something bigger and better. But when will it be time for contentment? Leo Tolstoy wrote a short story called "How Much Land Does a Man Need" about a man who was never content with what he had, but always wanting more, until he lost everything in his pursuit of it. Is that the circle of life - want, build up, acquire, want more, lose it all? That would be so sad!
I don't feel that contentment is the same as saying, "I have more than that person," or "at least I don't have to go through what they are going through." To me, contentment is that moment when you look around and think to yourself, "right now, there is nothing that I need to make me happy."
This doesn't seem to come easy to most people. Overwhelmed by responsibilities and needs and desires, we constantly pursue that moving target without ever stopping to enjoy the feeling of contentment. But if we stop darting about in our pursuits, and let time stand still for just a few moments to enjoy where we are, doesn't that make it all worthwhile?
Saturday, June 18, 2011
One Hundred Paces
My flashlight gave just enough illumination for me to see where my steps would fall. I paused frequently to shine it up and around, ensuring I was not approaching any other hunters as I walked. Once I reached the end of the clearing, I turned left and began to count my steps... one... two... three... At number one hundred, I found a tree and sat down. That's how my husband told me to do it and it's worked every year to get me to a familiar place to wait. This is the only place I will venture out into the woods on my own in the dark, because here, I know where I stand.
I have to work today, a Saturday, and I'm really not excited about it. Our summer catalogs are just starting to reach our customers and this is when we get a lot of calls. It's not the customers with orders that bother me, but the people who, for whatever reason, received our catalog unsolicited, and are very angry about it. I mean very angry. To the point of seething, bitter, verbal abuse and threats to call the attorney general. Oh yes. Even that. I had one of those just yesterday, followed by the words "you got that?" spat into the phone. Really? Is it that bad?
But then, I'm not one to talk about taking things personally. Where they take unsolicited mail as a personal attack, I tend to internalize other people's anger, especially when it seems to be directed at me. It's bad enough hearing it from anonymous voices on the phone but to hear it from someone close to me is severely painful. I spent a large portion of yesterday fighting tears and feeling like the biggest burden a friend could have, for expressing concern over something trivial at a time when my friend had bigger problems.
I questioned whether I am really not very good at being a friend. After all, I recently lost a friend who told me I was insensitive. Am I really? I feel like I am a fairly good listener. I encourage my friends to vent to me when they are upset or worried. But when something is on my mind, I seem clumsy about finding the right time to talk about it.
When something is said to me out of hurt and frustration, whether I'm the one who caused it or not, I take it personally. I know I shouldn't - maybe that's what makes me selfish, internalizing other people's anger. It seems like, once someone vents, they feel better. But then I feel bad, and continue to carry their anger and frustration around with me. Once when we had been arguing, my husband asked me, "why do you get mad when I'm mad?" I wish I knew.
I'm not only sensitive about what people say to me, but how my words might make others feel. Once, when my oldest son was in second grade, I had yelled at him before school. After dropping him off, I felt terrible, and didn't want him to go through his day feeling the way I must have made him feel, so I went back to the school, pulled him out of class, and apologized to him.
I work hard at being a good listener. I actually prayed, years ago, that God would make me a better listener, and He immediately provided me with a friend who loved to talk! I don't always know what to say, but I try to listen. I think now I need to work on letting go of hard feelings when someone turns their anger on me unintentionally. I am really afraid to pray for that, knowing what it would take to bring it about.
I have to work today, a Saturday, and I'm really not excited about it. Our summer catalogs are just starting to reach our customers and this is when we get a lot of calls. It's not the customers with orders that bother me, but the people who, for whatever reason, received our catalog unsolicited, and are very angry about it. I mean very angry. To the point of seething, bitter, verbal abuse and threats to call the attorney general. Oh yes. Even that. I had one of those just yesterday, followed by the words "you got that?" spat into the phone. Really? Is it that bad?
But then, I'm not one to talk about taking things personally. Where they take unsolicited mail as a personal attack, I tend to internalize other people's anger, especially when it seems to be directed at me. It's bad enough hearing it from anonymous voices on the phone but to hear it from someone close to me is severely painful. I spent a large portion of yesterday fighting tears and feeling like the biggest burden a friend could have, for expressing concern over something trivial at a time when my friend had bigger problems.
I questioned whether I am really not very good at being a friend. After all, I recently lost a friend who told me I was insensitive. Am I really? I feel like I am a fairly good listener. I encourage my friends to vent to me when they are upset or worried. But when something is on my mind, I seem clumsy about finding the right time to talk about it.
When something is said to me out of hurt and frustration, whether I'm the one who caused it or not, I take it personally. I know I shouldn't - maybe that's what makes me selfish, internalizing other people's anger. It seems like, once someone vents, they feel better. But then I feel bad, and continue to carry their anger and frustration around with me. Once when we had been arguing, my husband asked me, "why do you get mad when I'm mad?" I wish I knew.
I'm not only sensitive about what people say to me, but how my words might make others feel. Once, when my oldest son was in second grade, I had yelled at him before school. After dropping him off, I felt terrible, and didn't want him to go through his day feeling the way I must have made him feel, so I went back to the school, pulled him out of class, and apologized to him.
I work hard at being a good listener. I actually prayed, years ago, that God would make me a better listener, and He immediately provided me with a friend who loved to talk! I don't always know what to say, but I try to listen. I think now I need to work on letting go of hard feelings when someone turns their anger on me unintentionally. I am really afraid to pray for that, knowing what it would take to bring it about.
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Pooh Tree
It isn't a long hike, but it's very popular. Beginning at the nature center, the trail winds through Peace Valley Park, marked with signs that say "Pooh Tree". There is no sign at the tree, because it is easy to recognize once you arrive. Its wide stance is its only support, because there is nothing in the middle. The opening in the trunk is large enough that our family of six is able to squeeze in, though usually one stays outside to take pictures. Though the inside has rotted away, many people find it to be a beautiful destination for a day hike with young children. Many trees have this defect - a hole rotted out somewhere. As unpleasant as that sounds, this defect is where many animals make their homes.
Sometimes it really surprises me to hear people talk about their flaws. A certain person comes to mind who looks flawless, confident, fit, and healthy, but I have heard her point out things she doesn't like about her appearance. No matter how perfect a person may look to the rest of the world, there is usually some area of self doubt and insecurity.
The famous poem begins with "How do I love thee, let me count the ways...", then proceeds to list all the beautiful reasons. We don't look for the flaws in the people we love, we admire the things we find attractive. While a young lady stands in front of her sweetheart, self conscious about the scar on her chin, her lover gazes at her beautiful eyes, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.
Sometimes we even find the "flaws" beautiful. They are what make us unique. Every day there is a long line of people waiting to see the Liberty Bell, yet I would venture to guess that more people come to see the crack in the side of the bell than to learn the historical significance of it.
Children often point out differences, not realizing that someone may feel insecure or embarrassed. A few days ago a young boy noticed something about me and asked about it. Wishing we could change the subject, I simply said it's been there my whole life. His next words were priceless. He said, "that's cool!"
I've read lots of romantic books and seen lots of romantic movies and the description of the love interest almost always includes some endearing feature that makes that person unique: a crooked smile, a goofy grin, unruly bangs that fall into her eyes...
A song I love has the line, "it's a shame that she don't see what I see..." It's easy to see past the flaws in the people we love, or to see those flaws as beautiful, but it is so hard to do the same for ourselves. At least, it is for me.
Sometimes it really surprises me to hear people talk about their flaws. A certain person comes to mind who looks flawless, confident, fit, and healthy, but I have heard her point out things she doesn't like about her appearance. No matter how perfect a person may look to the rest of the world, there is usually some area of self doubt and insecurity.
The famous poem begins with "How do I love thee, let me count the ways...", then proceeds to list all the beautiful reasons. We don't look for the flaws in the people we love, we admire the things we find attractive. While a young lady stands in front of her sweetheart, self conscious about the scar on her chin, her lover gazes at her beautiful eyes, feeling like the luckiest man in the world.
Sometimes we even find the "flaws" beautiful. They are what make us unique. Every day there is a long line of people waiting to see the Liberty Bell, yet I would venture to guess that more people come to see the crack in the side of the bell than to learn the historical significance of it.
Children often point out differences, not realizing that someone may feel insecure or embarrassed. A few days ago a young boy noticed something about me and asked about it. Wishing we could change the subject, I simply said it's been there my whole life. His next words were priceless. He said, "that's cool!"
I've read lots of romantic books and seen lots of romantic movies and the description of the love interest almost always includes some endearing feature that makes that person unique: a crooked smile, a goofy grin, unruly bangs that fall into her eyes...
A song I love has the line, "it's a shame that she don't see what I see..." It's easy to see past the flaws in the people we love, or to see those flaws as beautiful, but it is so hard to do the same for ourselves. At least, it is for me.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Assumptions
My little boy saw it first, rustling in the grass next to the trail. His quick glance caught my eye, and then I saw it too. It moved fast, then stopped as I edged closer, careful not to make too much noise, for fear of scaring it away. I was pretty sure I knew what it was, but I had to see for myself. Finally, I was able to make out the small snake, which kept very still, eyeing me cautiously. I smiled and whispered to my son to come closer and look. He crouched down and looked carefully before announcing with all the authority a ten-year-old could possess, "it's not a venomous snake. I can tell by the shape of its head."
My husband is very good at examining things in nature to find out if they are dangerous or benign. It comes from a lifetime of interest in the subject, survival training in the military, and a degree in biology. It seems that, wherever there is something dangerous, there is often an innocent look-alike, using their dangerous appearance as a defense mechanism.
This doesn't worry my husband. He knows what to look for, and he studies it carefully before determining its identity. Whether it is an animal, a plant, or a mushroom, he gets to know it before making a judgement. He gets to know it before he sees it with research and training, then he studies it in person to compare what he has learned.
Today I had a beautiful opportunity to spend time with someone I thought I knew. I see this lovely lady on a regular basis, but always assumed she didn't think much of me. I didn't really have a solid reason for thinking that, and, looking back, I'm not sure why I ever thought it at all.
A few days ago, she mentioned that she thought I was hard to read. She wasn't sure what I was thinking. I found this incredibly amusing, considering I felt the same way about her, so I told her so. Her response to me was fantastic. She declared that it was time to get to know each other. So today, having a rare weekday off from work, I acted on it and asked her to have lunch with me. I'm so glad I did.
This has me wondering how we determine where people fit into our lives. I always hear the question "what is love" - it's the subject of dozens of songs, books, and movies. But I wonder what friendship is, and how it happens. Twice - that I know of - in the last year, I have misjudged someone. I'm so glad, in this case, to find out I was wrong.
My husband is very good at examining things in nature to find out if they are dangerous or benign. It comes from a lifetime of interest in the subject, survival training in the military, and a degree in biology. It seems that, wherever there is something dangerous, there is often an innocent look-alike, using their dangerous appearance as a defense mechanism.
This doesn't worry my husband. He knows what to look for, and he studies it carefully before determining its identity. Whether it is an animal, a plant, or a mushroom, he gets to know it before making a judgement. He gets to know it before he sees it with research and training, then he studies it in person to compare what he has learned.
Today I had a beautiful opportunity to spend time with someone I thought I knew. I see this lovely lady on a regular basis, but always assumed she didn't think much of me. I didn't really have a solid reason for thinking that, and, looking back, I'm not sure why I ever thought it at all.
A few days ago, she mentioned that she thought I was hard to read. She wasn't sure what I was thinking. I found this incredibly amusing, considering I felt the same way about her, so I told her so. Her response to me was fantastic. She declared that it was time to get to know each other. So today, having a rare weekday off from work, I acted on it and asked her to have lunch with me. I'm so glad I did.
This has me wondering how we determine where people fit into our lives. I always hear the question "what is love" - it's the subject of dozens of songs, books, and movies. But I wonder what friendship is, and how it happens. Twice - that I know of - in the last year, I have misjudged someone. I'm so glad, in this case, to find out I was wrong.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Manna Run
It was light out but the sun had not yet begun to warm the crisp morning air. There was little sound beyond the steady rhythm of footsteps on the pavement, birds singing overhead, and snippets of conversations between runners. I decided by the time we got to White's Road Park that I was going to stay with her for the rest of the run. Not because I thought she needed me, but because I needed her. We all knew it was her goal to run the entire way today, and not give in to the temptation to walk. She had made her goal clear before we started, and asked that none of us let her quit. Because she said this, I knew I had to run the entire way, too. I couldn't let her see me walking. If she saw me give up, she might be more tempted to give up. Her goal became my goal. We call her Captain Cook. She is quiet. She is determined. She is a force to be reckoned with.
The fourth Wednesday of every 8-week session of DDIP boot camp, our training focuses on the needs of the community. A hundred or more participants meet, bearing donations of food, gift cards, diapers, and other items for Manna on Main Street, a charitable organization that provides for the needy. Many of the items are loaded into a truck, but many others are carried on the backs of the runners, giving a beautiful visual representation of bearing one another's burdens. This run is one of the many ways that DDIP is about more than just exercise.
Whatever the weather, we show up. We run in the rain.We run when it's hot. This past winter we ran with a beautiful snow falling down on us. Today it was perfect weather, around 54 degrees with low humidity. Single file, lining both sides of the street, we ran. I always wonder what we must look like to those early risers on their way to work, sitting in their cars and still wiping the sleep out of their eyes.
Once we arrive at Manna, we form two lines from the truck to the door and pass bags and boxes down the line, filling that little building with our contribution to the community. It is a spectacular sight - dozens of people who want to make a difference, bringing help and hope to families we may never have the pleasure to meet.
When the last bag has made it into the building, we circle up for a few words from "Dr. Drill", then head off to finish our run. It is always an uplifting time for me. I am reminded of what I have, and what I can contribute to others. The endorphin high we get from exercise is nothing compared to that feeling of gratitude and compassion that comes from giving to others.
* If you would like to donate to Manna on Main Street, visit www.mannaonmain.org
The fourth Wednesday of every 8-week session of DDIP boot camp, our training focuses on the needs of the community. A hundred or more participants meet, bearing donations of food, gift cards, diapers, and other items for Manna on Main Street, a charitable organization that provides for the needy. Many of the items are loaded into a truck, but many others are carried on the backs of the runners, giving a beautiful visual representation of bearing one another's burdens. This run is one of the many ways that DDIP is about more than just exercise.
Whatever the weather, we show up. We run in the rain.We run when it's hot. This past winter we ran with a beautiful snow falling down on us. Today it was perfect weather, around 54 degrees with low humidity. Single file, lining both sides of the street, we ran. I always wonder what we must look like to those early risers on their way to work, sitting in their cars and still wiping the sleep out of their eyes.
Once we arrive at Manna, we form two lines from the truck to the door and pass bags and boxes down the line, filling that little building with our contribution to the community. It is a spectacular sight - dozens of people who want to make a difference, bringing help and hope to families we may never have the pleasure to meet.
When the last bag has made it into the building, we circle up for a few words from "Dr. Drill", then head off to finish our run. It is always an uplifting time for me. I am reminded of what I have, and what I can contribute to others. The endorphin high we get from exercise is nothing compared to that feeling of gratitude and compassion that comes from giving to others.
* If you would like to donate to Manna on Main Street, visit www.mannaonmain.org
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Hiding in the Fog
The trail brochure warned us of recent bear activity in the area. I had mixed feelings, knowing there were bears sharing the same woods we would be exploring. I've never seen a bear in the wild. It would be so exciting. Then again, bears are big and dangerous animals. The entire time we hiked, I looked carefully out into the woods as far as I could see, hoping - and at the same time dreading - seeing a bear. At times, the sun shone through the trees in the distance, creating the illusion of a fog, and creating an eerie environment for my active imagination. By the end of the hike, I was rather disappointed -and relieved - that no bears had appeared.
I have what I like to call a passionate personality. When I'm happy, which is usually, I am on top of the world. My boss told me that I bring sunshine to work with me. When I am sad it hits fast and it hits hard. Anger and frustration manifest themselves as sadness with me. Recently, I was in a meeting and felt so frustrated that tears started rolling down my face and the boss had no idea why. Awkward!
This passionate personality keeps me busy. I fill my calendar, knowing I'm good at multitasking, and welcoming the challenge of keeping up with it all. When I am interested in something, I'm all in. I pursue and pursue and pursue this interest, plugging it into every vacant moment of my schedule, until I come to a point of burnout.
And that's where I've been the last few weeks. Burnout. I have been so busy, and juggling so many things, that my body and my brain started to protest. I started to get aches and pains. I felt overwhelmed and irritable. I even got physically ill for a few days. Not only this but there have been some outside contributors to my gloom. A tragedy in our neighborhood that resulted in gripping fears for the safety of my family. Unreasonable demands from a friend. Things like that. Stress upon stress.
I needed time to step back, breathe, regroup. It feels like hibernation. I cut out the things I can cut out, and put the rest of life on autopilot. I retreat into my home and surround myself with my family for a while. Reconnecting with them helps me to refocus. No matter what is going on in the outside world, we have each other. My family gives me strength, support, and unconditional love and acceptance.
I haven't been out and about much lately. I've been hiding in the fog for a few weeks now, and my absence has been noticed. But yesterday, I felt like the fog lifted and the lights were turned on. Today is a new day. And I think I'm ready to venture out again.
I have what I like to call a passionate personality. When I'm happy, which is usually, I am on top of the world. My boss told me that I bring sunshine to work with me. When I am sad it hits fast and it hits hard. Anger and frustration manifest themselves as sadness with me. Recently, I was in a meeting and felt so frustrated that tears started rolling down my face and the boss had no idea why. Awkward!
This passionate personality keeps me busy. I fill my calendar, knowing I'm good at multitasking, and welcoming the challenge of keeping up with it all. When I am interested in something, I'm all in. I pursue and pursue and pursue this interest, plugging it into every vacant moment of my schedule, until I come to a point of burnout.
And that's where I've been the last few weeks. Burnout. I have been so busy, and juggling so many things, that my body and my brain started to protest. I started to get aches and pains. I felt overwhelmed and irritable. I even got physically ill for a few days. Not only this but there have been some outside contributors to my gloom. A tragedy in our neighborhood that resulted in gripping fears for the safety of my family. Unreasonable demands from a friend. Things like that. Stress upon stress.
I needed time to step back, breathe, regroup. It feels like hibernation. I cut out the things I can cut out, and put the rest of life on autopilot. I retreat into my home and surround myself with my family for a while. Reconnecting with them helps me to refocus. No matter what is going on in the outside world, we have each other. My family gives me strength, support, and unconditional love and acceptance.
I haven't been out and about much lately. I've been hiding in the fog for a few weeks now, and my absence has been noticed. But yesterday, I felt like the fog lifted and the lights were turned on. Today is a new day. And I think I'm ready to venture out again.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Perspective
It was hard to keep my eyes off the ground as I forged ahead along the trail. Roots and rocks protruded up through the earth everywhere, making the terrain an obstacle in itself. Ahead of me, I could see bright colors and hear people talking as they made their way along the course, but no one I recognized. I listened half-heartedly to a man somewhere behind me who was making jokes and chanting encouragement to fellow runners. He caught sight of my name, scribbled across my back, and shouted a few encouraging words to me, which helped my mood a little. For at least two miles, he was the only friend I had... or so it seemed.
It was a 3.5 mile mud run. I began the race with several friends and we had all planned to stick together through the run. At some point after disappointing myself by giving up on an obstacle because of my irrational fears, I found myself alone. Discouragement, mixed with equal parts humidity and rough terrain, slowed my pace to an unmotivated walk. Surely someone would wait, once they realized I was missing.
My active imagination and I had a ball coming up with scenarios as we walked. Scenarios involving me being left in the Poconos, still forgotten by my friends. Scenarios of conversations that could be happening ahead ("Where's Stoney?", "I haven't seen her since the first obstacle"), and conversations I wanted to have with a select few, ("I went back for you the last time we raced and you left me!")
When I caught sight of the 20-foot wall ahead - an obstacle we were to climb with ropes - a few things happened at once. I made the easy decision to walk around the obstacle without even attempting it. I allowed people to pass me, slowing down with an oppressive feeling of defeat. And I heard a faint voice behind me calling my name. I turned around, a bit disoriented, knowing the voice but not expecting it to be coming from that direction, and saw my friend KC.
KC had left me behind two miles ago. I was confused. I asked her, "how did you get back here?" And then, after 2 miles of walking and pouting, I learned what really happened. When I had given up on the first obstacle, KC and several others were still on it. When I pushed forward, wallowing in my self-doubt, they were falling further behind, caught in a bottleneck at the obstacle, wondering why I hadn't waited.
The last part of the race was much more fun. KC by my side. A few others joined her in talking me over the cargo nets - another obstacle of height that I was about to give up on. They talked me over it. Encouragement is so powerful! It was their words and reassurance that gave me the courage to keep climbing up, to put my leg over the top and make my way down the other side.
I always tell my kids just because you didn't mean to hurt someone doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize if you do. After we crossed the finish line and posed for a few pictures, I sought out the person I was planning to confront for leaving me. I apologized for being angry at him. He didn't know I was angry, but I still wanted to apologize. After all, I had left him behind.
It was a 3.5 mile mud run. I began the race with several friends and we had all planned to stick together through the run. At some point after disappointing myself by giving up on an obstacle because of my irrational fears, I found myself alone. Discouragement, mixed with equal parts humidity and rough terrain, slowed my pace to an unmotivated walk. Surely someone would wait, once they realized I was missing.
My active imagination and I had a ball coming up with scenarios as we walked. Scenarios involving me being left in the Poconos, still forgotten by my friends. Scenarios of conversations that could be happening ahead ("Where's Stoney?", "I haven't seen her since the first obstacle"), and conversations I wanted to have with a select few, ("I went back for you the last time we raced and you left me!")
When I caught sight of the 20-foot wall ahead - an obstacle we were to climb with ropes - a few things happened at once. I made the easy decision to walk around the obstacle without even attempting it. I allowed people to pass me, slowing down with an oppressive feeling of defeat. And I heard a faint voice behind me calling my name. I turned around, a bit disoriented, knowing the voice but not expecting it to be coming from that direction, and saw my friend KC.
KC had left me behind two miles ago. I was confused. I asked her, "how did you get back here?" And then, after 2 miles of walking and pouting, I learned what really happened. When I had given up on the first obstacle, KC and several others were still on it. When I pushed forward, wallowing in my self-doubt, they were falling further behind, caught in a bottleneck at the obstacle, wondering why I hadn't waited.
The last part of the race was much more fun. KC by my side. A few others joined her in talking me over the cargo nets - another obstacle of height that I was about to give up on. They talked me over it. Encouragement is so powerful! It was their words and reassurance that gave me the courage to keep climbing up, to put my leg over the top and make my way down the other side.
I always tell my kids just because you didn't mean to hurt someone doesn't mean you shouldn't apologize if you do. After we crossed the finish line and posed for a few pictures, I sought out the person I was planning to confront for leaving me. I apologized for being angry at him. He didn't know I was angry, but I still wanted to apologize. After all, I had left him behind.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Story Well
Across the dirt road from my childhood home there was a trail leading into the woods. I loved walking that trail and would take it as far as I dared. I made up stories as I walked - stories I planned to one day turn into books. The trees and dirt and solitude inspired me. The day I found the hole in the ground was probably the one that inspired me most. I never wrote about it but I made up such stories, just sitting and peering down into the hole. I tossed a stick into the opening to see if I could hear it land - yeah, it was that deep. I'm pretty sure it was meant to be a well, or maybe used to be a well and was abandoned. It was big and deep and empty. Lots of room to be filled with stories.
My daughter slept over at her friend's house last night and it reminds me of myself at her age. I used to spend night after night at my friend Crystal's house. It was like a second home to me. We were joined at the hip. We planned on being best friends forever before the term "BFF" was born.
My times with Crystal are some of my best memories from my school days. I can still remember the way she said things, the way we loved having debates over the silliest things, the way she yelled at her little brother when he annoyed her. I remember lots about her family, too. Her dad's pancakes that filled up the whole plate, the way he served ice cream, and the song-and-dance he put her through to get permission to go to my house.
Crystal and I had big plans for our futures and they always included each other. But things don't always work out the way you think they will. Both of us ended up moving away. We each missed the other's wedding. We lost touch a few times and had to find each other again. We are still in touch but living states away from each other. Our lives have taken different paths. We are still friends because a friendship like that never dies.
Being a grown-up comes with a lot of responsibility. No more sleepovers, except for the occasional girl's getaway. No more dads making pancakes and all-nighters watching scary movies. Now I'm creating new memories with my family. And new memories for my kids.
They see their parents choosing to spend time together and go out on dates. They see us standing together in the kitchen to talk when there is too much commotion in the rest of the house. They see us laugh together and plan together and work through problems together. They see that even when the days of sleepovers are behind them, there is something even stronger to look forward to.
My daughter slept over at her friend's house last night and it reminds me of myself at her age. I used to spend night after night at my friend Crystal's house. It was like a second home to me. We were joined at the hip. We planned on being best friends forever before the term "BFF" was born.
My times with Crystal are some of my best memories from my school days. I can still remember the way she said things, the way we loved having debates over the silliest things, the way she yelled at her little brother when he annoyed her. I remember lots about her family, too. Her dad's pancakes that filled up the whole plate, the way he served ice cream, and the song-and-dance he put her through to get permission to go to my house.
Crystal and I had big plans for our futures and they always included each other. But things don't always work out the way you think they will. Both of us ended up moving away. We each missed the other's wedding. We lost touch a few times and had to find each other again. We are still in touch but living states away from each other. Our lives have taken different paths. We are still friends because a friendship like that never dies.
Being a grown-up comes with a lot of responsibility. No more sleepovers, except for the occasional girl's getaway. No more dads making pancakes and all-nighters watching scary movies. Now I'm creating new memories with my family. And new memories for my kids.
They see their parents choosing to spend time together and go out on dates. They see us standing together in the kitchen to talk when there is too much commotion in the rest of the house. They see us laugh together and plan together and work through problems together. They see that even when the days of sleepovers are behind them, there is something even stronger to look forward to.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Shades of Death
After hiking for a bit on the "Shades of Death" trail, we began to hear the sound of a waterfall and people laughing. I wasn't too excited at the prospect of encountering others on our walk but we continued on towards the sounds. When we reached the waterfall I was stunned to see two boys jumping off the top into a clear pool of water below. Their father was sitting on a rock, watching them. My kids ventured as close to the edge as I would allow, being the overprotective mom I am - and horribly afraid of heights. I finally managed to get the family to move along down the trail to the bottom, and downstream to where the water was calmer. There were rocks that reached out into the water and we found a very secure place to stand and watch the falls from there. What looked so frightening to me at the top looked fascinating from the bottom. It even looked kind of fun.
When I have bad news to give someone, I often check first to see what kind of mood they're in. Obviously, perspective can dictate how someone will respond to something. It often makes communication difficult. Both parties have their own set of opinions, experiences, and emotions attached to a given subject. Suddenly one of you makes a statement that triggers an unpleasant memory and you end up arguing and not even knowing why.
The more I see the flaws in myself and others, the more I am astounded by the perfection of God. I can say I forgive. I can think I have forgiven and have been forgiven. But when a nerve is struck, painful memories and anger come flooding back. Not so with God. He says He forgives and it's forgiven. He doesn't forget. But He forgives completely. I wish I knew how to do that. I wish others did too. Because we all screw up.
Until people get to know me they often think of me as a very quiet person. I usually am, because I am afraid of how people will perceive me when I talk. What if they don't like the real me? What if I say the wrong thing and they judge me? Sometimes I let someone in, trust them with my thoughts and feelings, and end up with a really solid friendship. I have a few of those that I cherish every day. Then there are those with whom I should have just kept silent.
The secure rock in the stream is a good place to stand. I need that perspective again.
When I have bad news to give someone, I often check first to see what kind of mood they're in. Obviously, perspective can dictate how someone will respond to something. It often makes communication difficult. Both parties have their own set of opinions, experiences, and emotions attached to a given subject. Suddenly one of you makes a statement that triggers an unpleasant memory and you end up arguing and not even knowing why.
The more I see the flaws in myself and others, the more I am astounded by the perfection of God. I can say I forgive. I can think I have forgiven and have been forgiven. But when a nerve is struck, painful memories and anger come flooding back. Not so with God. He says He forgives and it's forgiven. He doesn't forget. But He forgives completely. I wish I knew how to do that. I wish others did too. Because we all screw up.
Until people get to know me they often think of me as a very quiet person. I usually am, because I am afraid of how people will perceive me when I talk. What if they don't like the real me? What if I say the wrong thing and they judge me? Sometimes I let someone in, trust them with my thoughts and feelings, and end up with a really solid friendship. I have a few of those that I cherish every day. Then there are those with whom I should have just kept silent.
The secure rock in the stream is a good place to stand. I need that perspective again.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Reaping
From the time the car is parked until the marshmallows are over the fire, there is a bustle of activity. Setting up camp takes work and cooperation. My husband had the kids help set up the tent and screen house. Everyone helped to search for suitable firewood. The older ones were even allowed to assist with chopping wood and tending the fire, with supervision of course. I unpacked and prepared dinner supplies, set out the chairs, all while listening to the excited chatter of children making new discoveries around camp. It is a lot of work to get it all set up but once we sit down and feel the warmth of the fire and look at the night stars, it is all worthwhile.
I used to be a quitter. At least that was how I saw myself. I had great ideas but never followed through on anything. I wanted the end result but not the work required to bring it about. Since I started boot camp - the Dr. Drill Instructor Program - that mentality has changed.
This program encourages goals. And encourages hard work to reach them. I've been at it for over a year now and have seen some great results. I am stronger and happier, healthier and more focused than ever. Prior to starting the program, I knew I wanted to get fit and healthy, but as a mother of four with a full time job, I didn't see how that was possible. DDIP was the perfect solution. It's early in the morning. Very very early. At a time when there is nothing else on my schedule but sleep.
Sleep is a thing I have always cherished, so it was quite an adjustment to get up at 4:30 am. At first. Once I got a taste of the program I was excited to hear that alarm go off and my body has adjusted to the early jump start. Where "sleeping in" used to be 10:00 or later, it has become 6:00.
A few people have tried to "reason" with me about this new part of my life. It's hard to believe, but there are people out there who think exercise is bad for you. Really?? One person is telling me she has lots of health problems today because of all the hard work she has done in her life. (None of this was a structured exercise class that teaches proper technique, stretching, warming up, cooling down, listening to your body, etc - just daily duties common to man.)
In the fall I had pneumonia. Twice since then my boss has tried to blame my extra sick days over the last year on my working out. I admit I did not research this so I may be way off, but I don't think pneumonia is caused by calisthenics. Just an uneducated guess.
I took a visitor to class with me once and she went to her chiropractor the next day. She was told that someone "her age" should not be doing such strenuous exercise. She's in her 50's!! There are people older than her doing extremely well in the DDIP program. I just don't understand it.
I want to be healthy and fit. I want to shock people when I tell them my age - if I ever tell them. I don't want people to say "she looks good for her age" I want people to say "wow! she looks good!" And that's going to take work. But in the end, it is all worthwhile.
I used to be a quitter. At least that was how I saw myself. I had great ideas but never followed through on anything. I wanted the end result but not the work required to bring it about. Since I started boot camp - the Dr. Drill Instructor Program - that mentality has changed.
This program encourages goals. And encourages hard work to reach them. I've been at it for over a year now and have seen some great results. I am stronger and happier, healthier and more focused than ever. Prior to starting the program, I knew I wanted to get fit and healthy, but as a mother of four with a full time job, I didn't see how that was possible. DDIP was the perfect solution. It's early in the morning. Very very early. At a time when there is nothing else on my schedule but sleep.
Sleep is a thing I have always cherished, so it was quite an adjustment to get up at 4:30 am. At first. Once I got a taste of the program I was excited to hear that alarm go off and my body has adjusted to the early jump start. Where "sleeping in" used to be 10:00 or later, it has become 6:00.
A few people have tried to "reason" with me about this new part of my life. It's hard to believe, but there are people out there who think exercise is bad for you. Really?? One person is telling me she has lots of health problems today because of all the hard work she has done in her life. (None of this was a structured exercise class that teaches proper technique, stretching, warming up, cooling down, listening to your body, etc - just daily duties common to man.)
In the fall I had pneumonia. Twice since then my boss has tried to blame my extra sick days over the last year on my working out. I admit I did not research this so I may be way off, but I don't think pneumonia is caused by calisthenics. Just an uneducated guess.
I took a visitor to class with me once and she went to her chiropractor the next day. She was told that someone "her age" should not be doing such strenuous exercise. She's in her 50's!! There are people older than her doing extremely well in the DDIP program. I just don't understand it.
I want to be healthy and fit. I want to shock people when I tell them my age - if I ever tell them. I don't want people to say "she looks good for her age" I want people to say "wow! she looks good!" And that's going to take work. But in the end, it is all worthwhile.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Words
We had already walked at least 5 miles. The dog was really slowing down. The kids were starting to complain. We were all starting to wonder how much farther we had to go. The path opened up into a clearing ahead and I knew it would be hotter there, out from under the shade of the trees with the sun beating down on us. But once we stepped out a little surprise brought all the complaining to a halt. This field was full of wild blueberries. The family excitedly picked and sampled them while I snapped pictures. Sometimes the little things can be so refreshing!
If I had a million dollars, it would change my life a lot, but not for the reasons most people might think. I would first get out of debt, then move to the country. That's it. No mansion, no limo, no world travels. I crave simplicity. I like the little things.
Little things like my husband bringing me wildflowers and saying "I saw something beautiful and I thought of you." Little things like my little boys singing to me when I came up to tuck them in the other night. They sang "cause you're amazing, just the way you are..."
I love words. I love the way they can be used for description of beautiful things, for making people smile or laugh, for expressing affection and love, for giving someone confidence when they need it most...
This morning I got an unexpected text from a friend. All it said was "good morning, Sunshine! I hope you have a great day!" Made my day. She didn't want anything from me. She didn't have any reason to contact me except that she was thinking of me and wanted to say hello. I loved it. Why can't everything be that simple?
Sometimes people use words as weapons, hurling them at others and hoping it hurts. Some use words to manipulate others to feel guilty or obligated in some way to do their bidding. For someone like me, who loves words so much, this is the ultimate attack. Most people realize that the worst words to use in an argument are "you always..." or "you never..." To me, those are words of finality. Where do you go from there?
If I had a million dollars, it would change my life a lot, but not for the reasons most people might think. I would first get out of debt, then move to the country. That's it. No mansion, no limo, no world travels. I crave simplicity. I like the little things.
Little things like my husband bringing me wildflowers and saying "I saw something beautiful and I thought of you." Little things like my little boys singing to me when I came up to tuck them in the other night. They sang "cause you're amazing, just the way you are..."
I love words. I love the way they can be used for description of beautiful things, for making people smile or laugh, for expressing affection and love, for giving someone confidence when they need it most...
This morning I got an unexpected text from a friend. All it said was "good morning, Sunshine! I hope you have a great day!" Made my day. She didn't want anything from me. She didn't have any reason to contact me except that she was thinking of me and wanted to say hello. I loved it. Why can't everything be that simple?
Sometimes people use words as weapons, hurling them at others and hoping it hurts. Some use words to manipulate others to feel guilty or obligated in some way to do their bidding. For someone like me, who loves words so much, this is the ultimate attack. Most people realize that the worst words to use in an argument are "you always..." or "you never..." To me, those are words of finality. Where do you go from there?
Friday, June 3, 2011
Lemonade
The weather was beautiful the day we hiked up to the top of Crabtree Falls. It was a scenic adventure I will never forget. The trail was well marked and wound back and forth on the steep slope for easier traveling. At several spots we would come to an overlook and take lots of pictures of the family, the dog, and the waterfall from every angle. This waterfall, situated near a portion of the Appalachian Trail in Montebello, Virginia, boasts the highest vertical-drop, cascading waterfall east of the Mississippi. It was spectacular. And we never would have known about it had it not been raining in Pennsylvania.
Things don't always go the way we plan. When they don't, and we come to a road block, we have two options. We make the most of it, take the detour and keep moving. Or we stop and stare at the road block helplessly. When I look back at my favorite adventures, it is surprising how many of those adventures happened on the detours.
Several years ago we had planned to go to the Creation Festival in Western Pennsylvania. I was so excited, knowing this was going to be the best family vacation yet. We had all our camping gear packed up in the car and all the arrangements made. I double and triple checked that our festival tickets were packed and not to be left behind. One last look at the festival website the night before we were to leave brought our plans, and my heart, to a screeching halt.
Due to excessive rain, and for the safety of everyone involved, the Creation Festival was postponed until the following year. Postponed. I cried. I actually did. Sobbed, actually. It went on for a while before I angrily announced: "I am not unpacking that car until we go camping."
My wonderful husband - Just thinking about this makes me want to hug him tight - my husband sat down at the computer and said, "ok, let's see where we can go." When we looked at the map on weather.com there was rain everywhere. The only way to choose a place was to find a hole in the big mass of green. That hole was in Montebello, Virginia. A little research was done, a quick reservation made, and we were making lemonade.
The place was perfect. The weather was fantastic, with only a little rain here and there. The campground had a lake for fishing, trails for hiking, nearby attractions like Crabtree Falls, and very few people, which suits us just fine. It may have been the most relaxing bonding-time we've had as a family.
Sometimes I wonder if God looks at us making our plans and thinks, "If they think they will like that, wait till they see this!"
Things don't always go the way we plan. When they don't, and we come to a road block, we have two options. We make the most of it, take the detour and keep moving. Or we stop and stare at the road block helplessly. When I look back at my favorite adventures, it is surprising how many of those adventures happened on the detours.
Several years ago we had planned to go to the Creation Festival in Western Pennsylvania. I was so excited, knowing this was going to be the best family vacation yet. We had all our camping gear packed up in the car and all the arrangements made. I double and triple checked that our festival tickets were packed and not to be left behind. One last look at the festival website the night before we were to leave brought our plans, and my heart, to a screeching halt.
Due to excessive rain, and for the safety of everyone involved, the Creation Festival was postponed until the following year. Postponed. I cried. I actually did. Sobbed, actually. It went on for a while before I angrily announced: "I am not unpacking that car until we go camping."
My wonderful husband - Just thinking about this makes me want to hug him tight - my husband sat down at the computer and said, "ok, let's see where we can go." When we looked at the map on weather.com there was rain everywhere. The only way to choose a place was to find a hole in the big mass of green. That hole was in Montebello, Virginia. A little research was done, a quick reservation made, and we were making lemonade.
The place was perfect. The weather was fantastic, with only a little rain here and there. The campground had a lake for fishing, trails for hiking, nearby attractions like Crabtree Falls, and very few people, which suits us just fine. It may have been the most relaxing bonding-time we've had as a family.
Sometimes I wonder if God looks at us making our plans and thinks, "If they think they will like that, wait till they see this!"
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Invisible
I lay quietly in the tent, listening to the steady breathing of my family, my heartbeat refusing to calm down. A noise outside had startled me awake and I was straining to hear, and identify, what the sound might be. It was footsteps - big ones. I could hear something grunting or snorting, which sent chills down my spine. I lay frozen and frightened but I knew I would not sleep again until I checked it out. Terrified, I slowly and quietly unzipped the tent and chanced a peek out into the darkness. I saw movement to the right, behind some trees, and suddenly regretted having a site on the outside ring of the campground. It was big. It was black. Holy @#$&, it had to be a bear! The next morning, with a mixture of relief and embarrassment, I watched the black cows on the other side of the fence that ran beside our tent.
I think it would be fantastic to have an invisibility cloak. I wouldn't use it for anything bad. It's just that I sometimes wish I could go about my business without being noticed. I feel socially awkward sometimes, when someone greets me and I say hi and they keep staring. What am I supposed to do next? I get really uncomfortable. I can think of a couple of people off the top of my head who do this and I don't understand it. Am I missing some cue here? I'm not good at small talk so I hope that's not what's expected. So if I seem unresponsive to the expectant stare, or look away quickly, it's not you. It's just that I'm trying to figure out if I should start singing or burst into flames.
That cloak would be super handy at social gatherings. At our last employee Christmas party, I had to work until the time it started and then drive the 20 minutes to the restaurant. I hated knowing that I would be walking into a crowded room, even though these are people I work with every day. These same people threw a little surprise party for my (expletive deleted)-th birthday and I wanted to sink right into the floor! Odd confession coming from someone who loves to act in stage dramas, isn't it?
It's different being on stage. Acting is very much like wearing an invisibility cloak. You get to be someone else. I find freedom in that and I miss it a lot. I used to act quite a bit in our church drama group. I wrote plays too. It was a very fulfilling time. I felt like I was doing something important and meaningful. I won't get into how that ended. I'm still a little bitter about it. I feel free to say that here, invisible behind my keyboard.
I think it would be fantastic to have an invisibility cloak. I wouldn't use it for anything bad. It's just that I sometimes wish I could go about my business without being noticed. I feel socially awkward sometimes, when someone greets me and I say hi and they keep staring. What am I supposed to do next? I get really uncomfortable. I can think of a couple of people off the top of my head who do this and I don't understand it. Am I missing some cue here? I'm not good at small talk so I hope that's not what's expected. So if I seem unresponsive to the expectant stare, or look away quickly, it's not you. It's just that I'm trying to figure out if I should start singing or burst into flames.
That cloak would be super handy at social gatherings. At our last employee Christmas party, I had to work until the time it started and then drive the 20 minutes to the restaurant. I hated knowing that I would be walking into a crowded room, even though these are people I work with every day. These same people threw a little surprise party for my (expletive deleted)-th birthday and I wanted to sink right into the floor! Odd confession coming from someone who loves to act in stage dramas, isn't it?
It's different being on stage. Acting is very much like wearing an invisibility cloak. You get to be someone else. I find freedom in that and I miss it a lot. I used to act quite a bit in our church drama group. I wrote plays too. It was a very fulfilling time. I felt like I was doing something important and meaningful. I won't get into how that ended. I'm still a little bitter about it. I feel free to say that here, invisible behind my keyboard.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Campfire Symphony
The crackle of the fire adds percussion to a symphony of crickets and frogs and other unseen creatures in the night. Its red, orange, and yellow tongues taste the sky, seeking something to devour. Fireflies attempt to mimic its brightness and movement beneath a gorgeous array of stars. The campfire is my favorite part of camping. I love everything about it, from the challenge of getting it started, to toasting marshmallows over it, to sitting next to it for warmth as the sun goes down. I can sit and watch the flames dance for hours. For someone with a short attention span like me, that is saying a lot.
I've always worried too much about what people think of me. I'm sure everyone has their moments of insecurity and self-doubt. I don't like to give my opinion, in case it's "wrong', even in a matter of style or musical taste. Just recently I decided I like a singer I just heard for the first time. After asking several people and seeing someone's comment about this singer on facebook, I realized I'm not supposed to like this one. I don't talk about it much anymore. I would have thought I'd outgrow that mentality by now.
I have a new friend named Chrissy. She could care less what people think of her and it makes her one of the most fascinating people I know! Why can't I be more like that? She doesn't try to fit into anyone's mold and she doesn't demand that anyone fit into her mold to be around her. She accepts her friends just the way they are.
I'm taking steps to own what is mine. My personality. My opinions. My feelings. I might share them but they won't be taken from me. They are mine. It shouldn't matter what other people think. Yet I can't tell you how many times I have edited this particular post, for fear of what others might think. I guess I still have a long way to go.
I knew this wasn't finished. I knew there was something else I wanted to say but I didn't know what it was. That's because it hadn't happened yet. This morning at boot camp I had to set aside what others might think of me and stand up for myself. I was called out for being on my knees during push ups. The instructor knows I am capable of more than I was giving and that I could be intimidated into giving my best effort. But today, because of severe back pain, my best effort didn't look like much. I didn't keep silent and I didn't cower. I spoke up in my own defense, and felt stronger for it. Inside, where it counts.
I've always worried too much about what people think of me. I'm sure everyone has their moments of insecurity and self-doubt. I don't like to give my opinion, in case it's "wrong', even in a matter of style or musical taste. Just recently I decided I like a singer I just heard for the first time. After asking several people and seeing someone's comment about this singer on facebook, I realized I'm not supposed to like this one. I don't talk about it much anymore. I would have thought I'd outgrow that mentality by now.
I have a new friend named Chrissy. She could care less what people think of her and it makes her one of the most fascinating people I know! Why can't I be more like that? She doesn't try to fit into anyone's mold and she doesn't demand that anyone fit into her mold to be around her. She accepts her friends just the way they are.
I'm taking steps to own what is mine. My personality. My opinions. My feelings. I might share them but they won't be taken from me. They are mine. It shouldn't matter what other people think. Yet I can't tell you how many times I have edited this particular post, for fear of what others might think. I guess I still have a long way to go.
I knew this wasn't finished. I knew there was something else I wanted to say but I didn't know what it was. That's because it hadn't happened yet. This morning at boot camp I had to set aside what others might think of me and stand up for myself. I was called out for being on my knees during push ups. The instructor knows I am capable of more than I was giving and that I could be intimidated into giving my best effort. But today, because of severe back pain, my best effort didn't look like much. I didn't keep silent and I didn't cower. I spoke up in my own defense, and felt stronger for it. Inside, where it counts.
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