3 Lanes Down

Having three young children, all about the same age, was a tough thing.  Not a "oh woe is me, feel sorry for me" thing. But, a hard thing.  Joel had a good job, but it was a job with long hours.  And to afford our house, we had to move a good ways out of Orange County, so the commute was also long.  All it meant was that Joel was gone a lot. We lived 1000 miles away from "home," and usually at least an hour away from all of our friends. Help was in short supply.  That's fine, you learn to survive and make do, but I was young and it wasn't always fun. And truthfully, I was usually stressed beyond my own ability to cope.

The errands were hard.  They had to be run.  And they had to be run with three young children in tow. Sometimes they ran too long into when naptime should have been, and it wasn't pretty.

Sometimes I was that mom at the grocery store with the kids that would not stop crying, and all I wanted to do was go home and cry, too.  People think that those moms don't hear the comments of derision they utter under their breath... but they're wrong.  Those moms do hear them. Those comments work as a knife that twists in a wound they already have.  They hurt.

And I swore that I would never be one of those people. I would never be the person who looked down on a young mom when she was stressed beyond belief and just needed to get milk.  I would never be the person who FORGOT what it was like to be so tired, you could barely see straight. I would never be the person completely lacking in compassion.

I was at the grocery store yesterday, listening to the checker be that person.  Three lanes away at the checkout counter, there was a young mom with a little boy that just wouldn't quit. It was loud.  You forget what it is to have toddler crying as the white noise of your life... and when you forget, wow, it's loud. And I'll admit there was a part of me, too, that thought "Geez kid, would you just cool your jets, for crying out loud??" I wonder if it wasn't the fact that the checker's derision echoed what were beginning to be my own thoughts that I was irritated so much at her.  I'm not sure if it was my own compassion, or my own irritation at us both that prompted the next action.

I finished my transaction and pushed my cart down to the checkout lane where the young woman was still trying to just make it through.  "Excuse me..." I began.

She looked up at me with tired, nearly-in-tears-herself eyes and started to apologize.

I smiled at her, "No, no...  I'm not upset.  But I once had three of them, all at the same time, about the same age as your little guy.  And it wasn't so long ago that I can't remember this part. Would it help if I held him for you while you finished paying?"

Compassion and understanding will beat criticism and derision any day.  I'm not very happy with myself that there was as much of the latter in my heart as there was.  But I'm grateful that I was able to find enough of the former to act on it.

Maybe next time it will be quicker to surface...

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Photo Credit: Dawn Hopkins

The Whole Picture

I've mentioned it before...  Stephen King's Dark Tower series is one of my favorite series. I love the story. I love the quest. Mostly, I love the characters.

I've talked about Roland before. I don't really have a lot in common with Roland, although perhaps I have more than I think I do.  I love him deeply, though.  I know you have no context to put this into and why it's awesome or why my heart swelled with pride when he said it(yes, I know he's a fictional character... lol).

Kill if you will, but command me nothing! You have forgotten the faces of those who made you! Now either kill us of be silent and listen to me, Roland of Gilead, son of Steven, gunslinger, and lord of the ancient lands! I have not come across all the miles and all the years to listen to your childish prating! Do you understand? Now you will listen to ME!

It's Eddie that I identify with the most, though. Spirited, sarcastic, talking when he should be keeping his mouth shut. Constantly relying on humor to cover up everything he's really feeling.  I GET Eddie.

I'm re-reading the series right now.  I don't think I have ever read this and been so AWARE of the little pieces before.  I've not read it for several years, and this might possibly be the first time I've read it with the revised first book.  I think I may have been reading the original first book before, but I gave my copy away last fall, and now I have the revised version.  I don't know if the things I'm picking up on are things that King added to the revised version, or if I'm just now noticing them for the first time.  But I seem to be hyper-aware of certain foreshadowings of later things that become very important.

I keep reading things with a whispered, "Oh.  Oh no."  I don't know why NOW, but I've never been so aware of those little things before and how early they started showing up.

But it's made me think of how our understanding of the little things, and the big things too, change, the more of the whole story we know.  I'm not sure if that really even makes sense.

Course we can never really do this... but have you ever thought of what it would be to look back on your life, to look at everything that happened?  Aren't there moments that seemed REALLY BIG at the time that turned out to be not quite so bad, or important, as you thought they were?  Or even the opposite...  that there were little things that happened or that you did which didn't seem to carry much importance at the time, but came to be very important choices or conversations or decisions or relationships?

Sometimes it makes me think of how I would do things differently if I could go back... but, maybe more so, how I can do things differently as I move forward.

10 Things I Wish I Could Go Back and Say to Me

1.  To 10 year old Me: "You're wrong.  I know it doesn't seem like it today, but things will be okay again.  And you will be happy again. And you will one day look back at today, and see how it shaped you into who will be... and in good ways."

2.  To 24 year old Me: "Don't sell it.  You're a busy mom to three very small children.  You don't have time to practice, and it costs money you don't currently possess to fix it.  But someday, you will look back and kinda wish you still had your flute."

3.  To 8 year old Me: "Tell Mom it was your fault.  Do it now, get it over with.  Save yourself 8 years of guilt. She knows, anyway."

4.  To 22 year old Me: "Don't be in such a hurry to get to the next phase. Enjoy what you have while you have it.  It flees so quickly."

5.  To 18 year old Me: "Just go home. You don't belong here and you are lost.  Wait and start over next year.  But wait at home where you aren't alone."

6. To 14 year old Me (and 15 year old Me, and 16 year old Me, and 17 year old Me): "Be nicer to your dad.  He's not really trying to ruin your life."

7.  To 33 year old Me: "Pay attention to manipulation. It comes in many forms and you are blind to most of them."

8. To Me at just about every age: "Enjoy where you are. Dream, hope, plan for the future, yes.  But enjoy where you are right now."

9. To 15 year old Me: "Umm, you know that Mom doesn't really buy that it's cooler a block away, right?"

10. To Yesterday Me: "Don't let who you think you are expected to be become who you think you must be.  Be who you are.  Nothing more, nothing less."

Camping Part 1

Joel and I are both pretty laidback when it comes to scheduling things.  Normally, this is not really a big deal.  Since neither one of us have a huge "must plan 14 months in advance" expectation, neither one of us is generally frustrated at the other.

Three years ago, we started going camping.  This was a concession on my part as we never REALLY went camping a lot when I was a kid (and no, Mom, going in a trailer does not count).  Additionally, Joel started trying to get me to go camping when our kids were 3, 3, and 2.  Umm, hell to the no.  I can't even go to the grocery store without wanting to pull my hair out, and you want me to be cramped up in a miniature room with nowhere to go and the entire forest of bears hunting me down?  Ain't happening, my darling husband.

But, three years ago, he finally convinced me to give it a try... and, begrudgingly, I admit that it isn't that bad.  I wouldn't have wanted to do it when they were younger.  But, at this age, it's nice to go. It's nice to have room to spread out. It's nice to not be cooped up in a hotel room, always trying to get them to quiet down.  I like being able to just head off to the beach. or go hiking, or whatever.

So, this past week was our annual camping trip.  USUALLY, against our usual natures, we plan this better.  Meals are pre-planned and prepped. Packing lists are made out and items collected.  But, something went awry this year.  Part of it, I think, is we weren't totally sure what day we were going to be going...  We'd looked online at the reservation system, and you couldn't reserve spots in the area of the campground we like to be...  but it was like that last year too, and there were plenty of spots.  I had sort of suggested that maybe we should call first?  But...  somehow both of us managed to not do that.

I didn't plan meals until the day before we left. We didn't get things together to pack until... oh, about two hours before we left.  This, right here, should tell you how it went.

We went to church on Sunday morning, and came home to pack.  I went upstairs to handle the clothes packing while Joel was in charge of the garage-based "stuff packing."

"Did you get all the cooking gear?" I asked.

"yes."  Okay, good to go.

So.... we drove the four hours to the campground, arriving about 7pm.  It's getting later in the summer, so we knew the sun was going to start going down soon, and we would need to book it on getting the tent up so we could get dinner started.  No female in my family does well, on a cranky basis, on no food.  My husband has learned to either feed us or suffer the consequences.  (My brother-in-laws have learned this too, I expect.)

As we drove in, I thought that our normal area looked very full... as in "no open spots" full.  But, maybe we'd have make do with a spot somewhere else in the campground this year.  haha!  Oh, we should have been so lucky.  No, they didn't have any spots available, but they did have a cabin... for $70/night.  Umm, I'm sorry, we're not paying $70 to camp!  So we ended up driving to a nearby campground for the night.

I didn't like this place as well... We're very spoiled at our campground of choice, and have LOTS of room in the area of the campground we usually stay.  This place was decidedly less roomy.  But we got unloaded as quickly as we could and threw the tent up... at this point, it is definitely getting dark dark dark. The light of lantern was a poor substitute for sunshine!  But we finally managed to get it set up... I ran down to the park office to get firewood while Joel finished unpacking...  Tonight was suddenly going to be hot dog night.  Not in the order I'd planned, but it was the easiest thing I had to cook.

"Joel, where are the roasting sticks?"

"We only have one, I couldn't find any of the others."  Could he not have told me this when we were at Target earlier... getting the pillows we'd forgotten to pack?  He might have gotten a little concerned when I spent the next two minutes calmly banging my forehead against the back of the truck.

Alright.  One roasting stick.  Momma can totally roast three hot dogs at a time.  In the rain.

Did I mention it was raining?  Cause it was raining.  At this point, one of us might have said "Maybe $70 for the cabin wouldn't have been so bad."

Hot dogs. Smores.  Ok, everyone in bed. Oh, right, and we forgot to bring an airpump for the kids' mattresses.  So they were all cranky.

In the morning, we were up and Joel drove over to our original campground to see if they were going to have any spots open for the 2nd night.. While he was gone, I packed up as much of the camp as I could...  and they did, so we packed everything else up while the kids feasted on zucchini muffins.  Breakfasted and packed up by 10am... we're getting better at this whole camping thing.  Well... you know, sort of.

We tooled around the area for a few hours.  Took the dog to the beach which she LOVED.  Oh my gosh, Lexie loves the beach.  So many things for her to chase... she, however, is not as fond of the water chasing HER.

Ok

The day had thus far been windy, slightly cold, but dry.. ish.

Course, then it was time to cook dinner, and the rain came.  And when I say rain, I mean rain.  (Hello, God?  It's August.  AUGUST!!!!) So the kids had locked themselves in the tent with the dog while Joel and I stayed outside to make sloppy joes.

The wind keeps blowing out the flame on the campstove. I have discovered that there are now no cooking utensils in the "camping stuff box."  I have a pot, a cutting board, and a knife.  But nothing to stir the meat with.  No eating utensils either.  Course I didn't figure any of that out till I got the half-frozen meat in the pot...  As it's going, I'm scrounging around the campsite, looking in the dark for a stick I can use to poke at it.  Oh it just got better as the night wore on.  Joel and I are just laughing now at how poorly prepared we are for this trip.

Sticks do not help in spooning sloppy joe meat onto hamburger buns.  I'm just saying.

However, plastic cups can be used in a pinch.

Ok, I'm tired of typing now.  More tomorrow...

Change

"Change isn't one simple choice. It's a process of a series of steps."


My daughter came home from camp a couple weeks ago with this little tidbit in her notes. I think that, more than anything, it gives me hope.

Sometimes I wish I was a different sort of person... the kind of person who could quit habits without struggling every moment.  The kind of person who could decide to make a change, and then have that change be easy to carry out.  The kind of person who doesn't backslide quite so much.

But, the truth is I'm not that kind of person.  I'm the kind of person that fights tooth and nail to stop doing what I don't want to do, but can't seem to help.  I'm the kind of person who can't quite master "I'm never going to do this again" but instead sets a somewhat less lofty goal of "I'm not going to do this... today," and sometimes finds even that a hard thing to accomplish.  I'm the kind of person who seems to celebrate every step of success with half a step of backsliding.  Sure, it's still overall progress, but my gosh, it's slow going.

So, yes, sometimes I wish I could be that person who decides to make a change, and makes it *snap* like that. If that is you, I look at you with envy, yes I do. I envy your commitment, your resolve, your determination, your ability to simply do what must be done.

But, I think I recognize that there is something to be gained in being the person who fights desperately for every win, too... and even for every loss. There is something to be learned in taking small steps, learning to accept small victories.  Even in learning to accept the mini-defeats, but also in learning not to let the mini-defeats beat YOU.

Maybe I'll never be the person who can change easily.  But I can be the person that grows in wisdom and character with every mini-change along the journey.

Spending the Points

We have one of those credit cards where you earn a point (or more, depending on where I've used my card) for every dollar I spend, and then you can exchange the points for gift cards or overpriced prizes and the like.

Joel and I have decidedly different approaches to how these points should be used.

He usually spends the points on something we would spend money on anyway... something exciting like Chevron gift certificates.  This makes the gift cards "make sense."  Saving us money on things we're already spending money on.  Because he is a GUY.

I, on the other hand, go "Ooo!  Free gift cards!  I get to use these to play and spend money on things I normally WOULDN'T!!"  So, my choices tend to go to Macy's for that jacket I've been wanting but have been unable to let myself splurge on.  Or Sephora to play with new make-up.  Or a gift certificate for a restaurant that's usually out of my price range.

We both know we have different approaches, we tease each other about them, and it's usually a race to see who gets to the points first.

The other day, Joel told me he had ordered some gift cards and to watch for them in the mail, so I didn't accidentally throw them away...  and yesterday, they arrived via FedEx.

"Joel, your stuff's here!" I called upstairs, and he came down to retrieve his envelope.  "So, what did you order? Gas cards?"

"No!" he protested stubbornly.  "They don't have those anymore."  He emitted a sound of protestation.  "But, I can get fun cards too, you know.  It doesn't ALL have to be practical."

I laughed, and said "Sure, sure I know...  Ok, ok, not practical.  So what did you get?"

He displayed his unpractical bounty proudly.  Taped to the bottom of the page were...

Four Home Depot gift cards.

Really?

I'm just saying.

Let's go to the cheese factory...

On Monday night, I realized that we had a week's worth of sunny weather ahead of us.  I know, those of you who live in places where summer actually feels like summer look at that and think "Big deal."  But here, it is a BIG DEAL.  The last couple summers have brought us far more cloudy days than sunny ones, so the prospect of a full week of sun is liable to put us Northwesterners into blissful weather-y orgasmic bliss.  But, what to do?

So, on Tuesday, I woke up and thought.... "Let's go to the cheese factory!"  This was actually a trip I'd asked the kids if they wanted to take awhile ago, something I'd planned for "sometime this summer."  But, we've been very busy, flitting this way and that around the state, and had just never quite made it.  Originally, I had planned it as a 2-3 day trip, bundling it with a trip to the beautiful Oregon coast.  But, Tuesday, I decided we'd just make it a day trip.

Okay, maybe this was overly optimistic.  Portland is three hours from here... and I guessed Tillamook to be about another hour past that.  But still, it was doable.  Four hours there, some ice cream, some free cheese for the kids, skip over to the beach for a little, and then home.

We got a later start than I intended.  Bathroom breaks, lunch. An hour to Tillamook past Portland was, also, overly optimistic.  So... by the time we got there, it was 4pm...  A thought suddenly occurred to me and I said, "Hey girls...  instead of going home tonight...  We're already this far, would do you think about calling Grandma and seeing if we can come stay at her house tonight?"

"Yeah!!!!"

So... we did.  She thought we were crazy.  "Not busy, but you are crazy. 'i think we should take a little drive... to eugene.'"  We left the cheese factory and spent some time on the beach.  I know, I know, you in California love your beaches.  and I have a couple beaches here in Washington I've grown to love, too.  But, for me, nothing will ever beat the beauty of the Oregon coast.  I would happily live there.

Maybe my mom's right, maybe I AM crazy for it.  But this is what I love about our summers. We shut down all the responsibilities we can for the summer.  No sports. No classes. It means I have more time to fill, there is more on me to provide entertainment for the summer.  But, it also means we can pick up and go.  If we decide we want to go to the beach, we CAN.  If we decide we want to leave and go hiking, we CAN.  If we decide we want to go find something new, we CAN. If I suddenly decide we should drive a roundabout route via the ocean to my mom's house for a single overnight visit... well, we can!

My girls are 10 and 11 1/2.  I have so little time left with them before this doesn't seem fun anymore.  Before they cross over into full teenager mode, and no longer WANT to go places with me.  I'm already seeing the beginning glimpses of it, and I intend to milk every moment I have.  I spent far too much of my early days of motherhood waiting for the next stage, thinking that I would be more easily equipped to deal with it when they got just a little older.  But, I've come to realize that it never really gets easier, it just gets different.  But if you spend your life waiting for things to pass so it gets better, you totally miss the things that are there to enjoy during the things that seem hard.

I'm done waiting.  Both as a mother and as a person.  Life is meant to be tasted and savored, not endured. So, sure, maybe taking off for two days on a whim is crazy.  But, I'd say it's a good crazy, and a crazy I don't mind being.

Stubborn

I'm terribly stubborn.

It's true, I know it.  And if I didn't know it, my husband would quickly fix that.  My children would fix that.  My mom would fix that.  Heaven knows, my dad would.

And usually, we don't really think of being stubborn as a good thing.  Doesn't it conjure up the image of the mule that won't move when the farmer wants it to? Or the goat that won't do what it's told?  Or... I don't know, pick another animal.  (Why do all the stubborn metaphors have to do with farm animals, anyway?)

But, there's a flipside to stubborn.  (As there is to many faults... Cathie Jo taught me that.  There are good manifestations and bad manifestations of qualities.  It's just you have to figure out how to best manifest yours.)

The flipside is determination, and I've got that in spades.  When I'm not down on myself for being too stubborn, I'm also quite glad that I am laced with determination.  It allows me to face each challenge with a set to my jaw as I murmur, "You will not beat me. I WILL conquer you."

And oh, sometimes that murmur is a stubborn one.  As the struggles fly and my desire is to curl up and cry "Uncle," I always find a way to claw up and refuse to be beaten.

It may not be pretty.  But I won't be beaten by this life and anything it has to throw at me. And when everything else seems hard, sometimes the determination to not be destroyed is the only thing I've got.

So, come on, Life.  Give me your best shot.  You won't win because I am made of sterner stuff than even I know

The Mirror

Morning sun filtered through the bedroom window's lace, and fell onto the bed.  Her dream slowly disintegrated, leaving little memory behind, but a passing feeling of love and loss. Stretching lazily under the blankets, revelling just a little in the sensation of her muscles waking up, she sighed and ran a hand through her sleep-dishevelled hair.

She sat up, and let her legs fall over the side of the bed.  The white nightgown swished against her calves as she struggled to remember what it was that had filled her head all night.  But alas, it was gone, not to be recaptured, nor relived, nor re-felt.

Across the room, the mirror beckoned and she answered.  Padding across the floor in bare feet, she stood before it and stared at the face that looked back.  Someone so familiar...  she knew the curl of her hair, the shape of her nose, the smiling pout of her lips.  But, it was the look in her eyes that took the girl aback just a little.

"Who are you today?" she whispered.  "And why don't I know you?"

I don't want to settle for broken

i don't want to settle for broken. i want to be a part of the group that believes in a solution--- that tries everything possible to be better. i want to be a part of the group of people that come out on the other side of something scary, fixed. bigger. + brighter!!!

Lisa follows a young musician, Christina Perri, and occasionally she sends me blogs that Christina has written.  I read one last week, and this snippet jumped out at me, and I've been meaning to come back to it ever since.

"I don't want to settle for broken."  It grabbed at me... because, I think, we do.  We settle for "broken." We settle for "good enough." We settle for "it's all I can hope for."  We settle for " Life IS pain, princess."

But, understand deeply that we are settling.

There. Is. More. Than. Good. Enough.

Yes, sometimes life is hard, and I'm not trying to say that it isn't.  Maybe there's something to that "life IS pain, princess" quote... but that's not all there is.  We don't have to stay in the pain.  Push through it, find a way to stop wallowing in our own misery.  Because if we can, if we can keep pushing, there is great beauty and happiness and joy on the other side.

Broken is not how we are meant to stay.  Maybe it's the broken that helps us grow character, helps us develop compassion and tolerance.  But I don't think it's the BEING broken that develops that character; it's the growing THROUGH the broken that does it.

So, please keep going.  If your season is one of brokenness, keep going. The sun will come out again if you keep looking for it, I promise.**

(**Unless you happen to live in the Pacific Northwest.  In which case, the sun will not come out again until next June.  Sorry.  You missed it.)  

Unpacking: Think first.

To 18yo Me

"Think first; act second." "Look before you leap." "Sleep on it first."  All amazingly wise sayings.

All advice that I ignore on a routine basis.  Sometimes, folks, it's do what I say here, not what I do.

Really, really, I wish that I was better at thinking my actions out before I do them. But, the truth is that I'm obscenely bad at it. So often, an action will occur to me, whether by nature or external suggestion.  Before my mind can think it through to its logical conclusion and panic-strickenly object "Umm, Jo? Put on the brakes, kid," I've already gone ahead and done it. Usually, it's at this point that my mind catches up with the rest of me, and I'm left to look back at what I've just done and go "Oh. Crap." There are some things you just can't get back.

Every once in a while, I get it right. The desire to do something pops up, I jump to do it, and then I think "Wait." And I do!  Just a short while later, the impulse fades, and I'm so so glad that I listened. It makes me want to shout, "Yes! I did it!"-- But not out of pride, understand.

Have you ever taught a child to ride a bike? They keep failing and falling. Finally, they do it. They yell, 'I'm doing, it, Mom! I'm doing it!!" It's not pride the exclamation comes from, it's pure shock and amazement that it actually worked!

I feel the same way. I'm so utterly bad at this so very much of the time that when I actually do accomplish it, I'm so shocked and amazed that I made it work, I nearly run into the proverbial tree in my excitement.

But, I'm always left with the same knowledge-- that if I thought before I acted more often, I would get into so fewer scrapes. My relationships would surely go just a little less bumpy if I took a little more care with my impulses.

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Photo Credit: Jonny Hunter

15 years...

In honor of my 15th wedding anniversary...  This was originally written in 2002.
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I knew that I was going marry Joel when I turned 17. At the time, we were going to different churches and my youth group was leaving on my birthday to go to a conference for a week. The day before, Joel called me and asked me if I wanted to go out to dinner (Taco Bell...the ultimate of romance!). He came and picked me up... we got halfway there and he realized that he had forgotten his billfold at his house. So, we turned around and drove there.

We walked in the house together.. I remember noticing that his parents' car was gone, which was odd since they never really go anywhere. I remarked "Hmm... your mom must've made something good for dinner tonight." I walked into the kitchen (where he kept his wallet) and noticed the kitchen table... laid out with pretty plates, nice silverware, and candles. I turned around and smiled up into his eyes, "Is this for me?" He just bent down and kissed me.

I sat down and be brought out the dinner he had personally prepared. Salad with raspberry  vinaigrette..mmm.... seafood fondue... to die for. I love seafood. Totally. He put on Harry Connick Jr and we just talked and ate and laughed. He even made my favorite dessert (at the time, anyway): raspberry  cheesecake. it was so good.

After we had finished eating, we sat in the living room and cuddled. He got up and told me he'd be right back. He ran upstairs to his room and returned with two....ski socks. Romantic, eh?

'WHAT are you going to do with THOSE?" I asked him

"You'll see." He tied them together and blindfolded me with them. Why he couldn't have used a bandana or something, I don't know. At least they were clean.

He led me out to the car and we drove off... to where, I didn't know. I tried to keep track of the turns to figure out where we were going, but I was soon completely lost. We drove around like that for about an hour...more talking and laughing.

FINALLY, we stopped. He came around to my side of the car and helped me out. I waited while he retrieved SOMETHING out of the trunk.

We turned and he led me across a large field of grass. I still didn’t know where we were. finally, we traversed the field and he had me sit in a chair that he had brought. Over my ears, he slipped a set of headphones and I listened to his gift to me. A tape of a song that I had been trying to find for MONTHS.

Finally, after several minutes, he unblindfolded me and I looked around. We were at a park about five minutes from his house. yes, after an hour of driving around, we were five minutes away. At the very back of this park, there is a little creek under a bunch of trees with a little stone bridge going across it. And this is where we were. Joel had set up a ring of little red votive candles and they were all lit. It was gorgeous. It was almost all the way dark outside. And the candlelight reflected off the water.

He bent down and hit play on the boombox that he brought, and the sweet sounds of big band love songs drifted to our ears. He gave me his hand and helped me to my feet and into his arms. We stood out there under the trees and the stars and the moon and danced for a few hours.

I knew that night that I would marry him someday. And three years and two weeks later, I did.

A Good Day

Oh, yes it was.

First of all, I got to spend a good bit of it with one of my best friends in the whole world.  Any day I get to do that is a good one, I expect.

Second, I got to spend most of the day in an area of the state that totally lacks cell phone coverage.  Why is that good?  You know what, sometimes it just IS.  To be where you CANNOT contact the outside world, where you CANNOT see what's going on in it.  Some days, it's a blessing to put aside everything that normally fills your world, and just enjoy a day of peace for a change.  It was fantastic, and I need to find a way to do that more often.

Third, the drive home afforded me some time to do some thinking, and I found myself thinking of my friends.  I think that everyone should have a strong support base...  all those friends who cheerlead you along, encourage you, fill you up and make you remember that you're a pretty awesome person because most of us are.  And I'm blessed to have just such a network, and I am grateful for every one of you who comprises it.

But tonight, I found myself extra grateful for the other ones.  Sometimes you have friends who love you even more, don't you?  They're the ones who, when you step off the right path, they're not afraid to take you gently by the hand and ask "Are you sure?"  They're the ones who love you so much... and it's because they love you so much that you LISTEN when they ask... because you know deep in your gut that they wouldn't ask if they weren't concerned. I think that sometimes we don't do enough to appreciate those friends...  to understand what it takes for them to be willing to be the dissenting voice.  Not because they don't care for you, but because they do.  It is those friends that I've come to trust implicitly.  To see what I cannot see, to hear what I cannot hear... and my gratitude for their willingness to share that, and to do life with me, is immense.  Very very immense.  What amazing blessings we're given in this life...

Oh, and fourth, my kitchen counter is FULL of flowers!


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Photo Credit: Sodanie Chea

Writing

I was reading the blog of my friend, Stacey, yesterday... and she was talking about examining her purposes in blogging for a series she's going to be doing in October.  Anyway, in the bit of conversing we did, she asked me "Do you you think we run out of things to say one day?"

We've both been blogging since 2003...  Long time, and that's a lot of words, a lot of topics, a lot of thoughts. We laughed over it, but it started me thinking.  The answer to that is probably no.  I think that, for both of us, our purposes have probably changed over time.  At one point, it was one thing.  At another point in time, it was something else.  And now, it's still something else entirely.

But I think we never stop writing because... we never stop BEING.  We never stop living, we never stop being in relationship with other people.  We never stop growing and changing.  Even when we write about the same things over and over, what we write about changes.

Every June, I find myself writing about my friend, Natalie, who passed away a few years ago due to a too-lately-caught cancer.  But what I write about NOW is much different from what I wrote about the first year or the second year. I have changed. The pain has changed. The lessons have changed. The memories, even, have changed in some way as time has moved on.

Sometimes I think it isn't even WHAT we write about that matters so much.  It's simply the act of doing it.  There's something about it that is calming.  Something about it that just HELPS. I don't think I could explain it to someone who doesn't do it. But if you write, you know, don't you?

Even when you sit down and you feel like you have nothing to say...  you're staring at a blank screen with your fingers poised above the keys... or at a blank piece of paper, pen at the ready...  And at first, it feels like you have nothing to say that day.  But, if you wait...  if you just wait in the silence, doesn't something always come?

So, no, my sweet friend...  I think that we don't run out of things to say until we run out of life to live.  I also think I'm very glad for that.  Both for myself and for you and for the community this provides.  There are so many people that I would never have met if it weren't for the writing.  I hope they never run out of things to say either.

Tapestry Revisited

Once, a very long time ago, I wrote about friendship and compared it to a tapestry. The idea was that the people who come in and out of your lives were like the individual colors and threads in a full tapestry work.  In some cases, there were colors that were constant and present throughout the entire piece.  Those were the friends who are with you from start to finish... maybe the ones you're very close to, the ones who love you for you who are and also for who you are not.  And then sometimes you had threads that were a bit shorter.  Friends who were friends for a time, who brought a splash of color, but they weren't friends for the long haul, for whatever reason.

I still think about that sometimes... and perhaps I'm thinking about that more at the moment as I contemplate friends who were, friends who are, and friends who have just become. It is common and natural, I suppose, to grieve the friends who were, the colors that didn't last as long as you'd hoped or planned.  But sometimes, you step back and you view the whole tapestry...  and you realize that just that splash of color was enough, and the perfect complement to the whole piece.  And you can just be grateful for the accent color in the tapestry of your life that they were. You can accept and understand that any more of that color would not be right, and you can pick up the next shade and look forward to seeing what beauty that color is going to add to the finished product.

Did you see me?

Did you see me today?

I passed you on the street, and when we locked eyes, I smiled.  You smiled back.  And we walked on.  But did you see me?

Yesterday, we met at the grocery store.  We smiled as we talked about the weather and if I found everything I was looking for.  I told you I found more than I needed... and we laughed.  Because we're meant to, because those are the rules. But did you see me?

Tomorrow, we will engage as friends on the street.  We will stop and you will ask me how I've been.  I will tell you I'm fine, that everything is great, and the world is glorious.  You will be satisfied because we will have fulfilled the rules.  We will walk on... and you will never have seen me.

When you leave, I will let the smile fall from my face, the light from my eyes. I will close my eyes and breathe deeply, willing what I told you to be true but knowing it is not. I will return to the weight of my doubts and hurts, and I will wish that you had seen behind the mask I can't bring myself to discard.

Will you see?

7 Links

I've stolen the "7 Links" challenge from Kathy, who is totally sweet, and you should go follow her... or friend her... or subscribe to her... or whatever is termalogically correct in this socialmedia-happy medium. Let's see... analyzing your own posts is more difficult than it sounds like.  Let's see what we come up with...

Most popular post - I suppose this would mean the post with the most hits?  In that case, it would have to be Disillusionment, by far. I suppose that's not terribly surprising, though I suspect that a lot of the hits are just the same people coming back over and over to see if there are any new comments on it.... which is sorta funny, since most of those come by email. Can't have anyone catching us with an opinion in public..

Most beautiful post - I'm not sure if this is the most beautiful, but Sometimes is one that I return to often myself when I need an extra bit of encouragement. It always reminds me to keep going.  It reminds me that, even when life is hard, there is strength to be found to push on toward what's next.  I often need that.

My most controversial post - I don't know that I have anything that fits this category, really.  I just write about my life and my emotions and my thoughts... Not really big into debating politics or theology or whatever topic seems to create the most havoc. Maybe I should be more trouble...

Most helpful post - I'd probably say that's To 18yo Me. It came out wiser than I thought it would, I think.  I've enjoyed exploring each one a bit more in subsequent posts, too... which I'd actually forgotten I was doing until this very moment.  :)  Other things to talk about, I suppose!

Surprise success post - Definitely Something a Little Different. Paul Byrom had written a blog and included this picture in his signature.  There was just something about the shot that stuck in my head... One of those pictures that has a story to tell me, you know?   And it wouldn't shut up till I wrote it down...  I didn't expect it to be as popular as it was.  But I'm glad you liked it.  I'd sort of forgotten that I LIKED writing that kind of thing.

Post that didn't get enough attention - I really liked Scars Left Behind. Maybe it's just that the sentiment was important to me... the beginning certainly could've been written better.  But the thought of survival being a form of winning against those who try to hurt us and beat us down, that our hurts don't have to be ugly... I liked that.

Post I'm most proud of - Are you a Turtle?  Partly for what I wrote about... it was my decision to stop hurting and start healing.  But mostly because it was, while not the first post of this blog, the real beginning of this blog.  It was the day I decided to stop screwing around about blogging again, after such a long 3-year departure, and to really commit to writing again.

Seeing it clearly

Do you know what's really fantastic about today?

You sometimes hear that there are reasons we struggle, lessons we're supposed to learn, obstacles we have to climb to reach the goal. Today, I've been lucky enough to look behind and see the road I've walked, the rocks I've climbed over, the ravines I've swam. I've gotten to see just how far that was.

But more than that... Today? It was like someone walked up to me with a clipboard and said, "All this was for the lesson we had to teach and here's what it was." And I got to see the lesson. And I got to understand that I've walked a long way toward learning it. And maybe sometimes I'll have to relearn it and maybe sometimes I'll have to remind myself I know it. But, oh I know it. And it is freeing and majestic and worth the road.

Part of me wishes I could share it with you, but I just can't bring myself to trust you all with my heart. Oh, I wish I could. Those of you who love me, and who I just love right back, just know it is an awesome thing and you would be happy right along with me.

What's that quote about something setting you free? The truth? Maybe that's not the sentiment I'm going for exactly. Well, actually, maybe in a way, it is. Understanding truth and making peace with it? Sure, we'll go with that. It kinda works. :)

Smile, friends and let that freedom ring.

Wish You Knew

I should have listened to you.

I should have listened when you said stop. But, I didn't because I thought it was what I wanted.  It wasn't.  But I didn't know that then.  It wasn't until much later that I learned it wasn't, and I didn't understand that you really did love me until that moment.

In a storybook, that would be it.  You would be my "didn't know what I had until I didn't have it anymore" story. You would be my relationship to learn from for the future. You would have been the friend I lost because I was too wrapped up in what I thought I wanted to understand what you were.

But, this isn't a storybook; this is life.  And when I figured it all out, you were still here. And you still loved me. And you were here to help me pick up the pieces and figure everything out, helped me to make it all make sense.. or as much sense as it could make, anyway.  And you're still here.

And you never said I told you so.  Well, maybe a little.  But I knew.  And you knew I knew. And that was enough.

I wish you knew just how much I meant when I said "thank you"...  for I do. And I just wish you knew.


Photo Credit: David Foster

You never know...

You just never know, do you?

What opportunities may come your way, what situations you might find yourself in.  What people will say, what people will do.  Both to you and for you.

You never know what blessings are set to fall at your feet, what trials you will have to slog through. You never know the lessons you will have to learn, and the lessons you will have to teach.

You never know where you will be asked to walk, and where you will be expected to fail.

This life is full of "you never know"s.  There are no guarantees, and so many things that you can't control.

Sometimes the best you can do is wake up each morning with a smile, crawl out of bed, and be ready to face this life, no matter what it has to throw at you.

Because you never know if today is the day you will be asked to be strong, or if today is the day you will be asked to defy expectations, or if today is the day you will be so glad you got up out of bed, or if today is the day you almost fall.  You never know.  But every day holds promise, a chance to prove yourself, a chance to become better, a chance to live fully.

So get up.  Smile. Be ready.