Last minute, I've come up with many gifts from the heart (some of them the best gifts of the whole lot. It's amazing what we come up with under pressure!)
Family gathering ground rules: Adapted from Romans 12:9-18
I wrote this for a Thankgiving presentation to a group of mothers of pre-schoolers. It would apply to most family gatherings. Peace.
Be truthful to your heart. Love must be sincere.
Guests will not badmouth or beat on each other. Hate what is evil; Praise kids and adults alike for clearing the table and using their manners. cling to what is good. Keep your eyes off your spouse’s hot cousin. Be devoted to one another in love. Let your spouse have the last of the coveted apple pie. Honor one another above yourselves. Keep the laughter loud, but kind. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Don’t throw cold water on junior’s dream of designing the first rocket-powered skateboard. Be joyful in hope, Be patient with Aunt Edna’s ever-recited list of aches. patient in affliction, Say more than “Rub a dub dub, Thanks for the Grub, Yeah God.” faithful in prayer. Take a plate to the fellow across the street who worked all day and came home to an empty house. Share with the Lord's people who are in need. Better yet, invite him over. Practice hospitality.
Give blessings to your relatives even as they criticize how you discipline your kids. Bless those who persecute you; Offer up your children to them for a weekend. bless and do not curse. Cheer loudly when your niece tinkles in the potty in the middle of dinner. Rejoice with those who rejoice; Cry with your sister whose husband’s in Iraq. mourn with those who mourn. You’re all a bit different, but try to get along. Live in harmony with one another. Remember that we all put our undies on one leg at a time, whether they’re Victoria’s Secret or Hanes Her Way. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Don’t feel the need to flash your thong. Do not think you are superior.
If your brother flings a pea from across the table, don’t return the favor with a spoonful of mashed potatoes. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Serve turkey, not quiche. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. Give all the children the same size dessert helping. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.
*(ZFB= zit for brains)
Earlier this month, I ventured to the Naturopath to see what wisdom she could impart regarding my health.
She took great care and more time than any of the doctors thus far. She was not at all dismissive of my symptoms and very thorough. Did some pretty unique tests on me (two kinds of body temp- oral and armpit, took blood pressure on all four limbs, read my retinas…) and I’m now minus a fingernail clipping and a sizeable lock of hair that will be tested for all kinds of biochemistry. Results on that come back after the holidays. Oh, and she made me stick my tongue out at her. I think that should be protocol for all appointments. Esp with accountants and lawyers…
She had so much information that I left with a head ready to explode from options. The body is one complex machine, I tell you. I know more about its function (and malfunction) than I ever cared to know.
Sometimes less is more. It’s like when I worked in the cellular phone industry. How do they work? FM… flippin magic. Okie doke. I’m good with that.
Stress is most certainly a factor in my symptoms. Some people say, “whew, that’s a relief!” I couldn’t disagree more. What I’ve come to realize is that stress compounds in the body over time (like most toxins). I always thought I was “handling” my stress quite well due to my high level of function through adversity. These physical symptoms have told me another story.
Somewhere along the line, at one of the times that I had enough stresses to break the camel’s back (so to speak), my body got depleted of the chemicals needed to rally through such a crisis. The next time it happened (and I’m not talking about stress like, “damn, they don’t have my flavor latte AGAIN!” I’m talking about divorce, abuse, estrangement, job loss, marriage, pregnancy, entrepreneurship, death, money issues, moving, pneumonia, audit, family discord… and sometimes several during one period of time) my body was even more depleted.
One thing all the doctors can agree upon is that my hormones are now out of balance. The endocrine system is way complex. It will be a while before we figure out the hormone that is at the crux of it all in order to right it.
I tried the medical “quick fix” of taking synthetic hormones and decided after two weeks that I loved my family too much to make them endure another day of “witch woman.”
So for now, I’m taking a supplement to keep my immunity up. I’m doing my best to ignore the “icicle” feeling on my head and doing what I can to stop and meditate on the moment.
I’m a testimony to what I tell my clients. Self care is important. If you ignore the needs of the self long enough, your body will rebel.
Slow down, be quiet enough to listen and take care.
I gave this as a gift to a girlfriend's family (of all girls, like mine), but this game can be the "Stellar Sibling Kindness Game" just as easily. I used cookie cutters and craft foam for the stars, stacked three different sizes of stars together with Elmer's and then attached the whole lot to a clothespin. Last, but not least, I put a magnet on the back of the clothespin. Oh, make sure each star has a unique marking so you can distinguish between them.
It’s the Stellar Sister Kindness Game!
We know how you like a little sisterly competition… so here’s a fun game you can play year round. We made you each a star magnet that will hold your “acts of kindness” on the fridge.
When you get caught doing something kind for your sister, she gets to rat you out by writing your kind deed on a 3”x 3” square of paper and tucking it in your star clip. The first sister who has enough “acts of kindness” to cause her star to plop off the fridge… WINS! When you find you need other rules or regulations, have Mom and Dad help you work them out together. You may also want to decide what you get for winning!
Get sneaky and creative with your kindness! Make a bed, set a special breakfast out on a busy day, pick up a room, do a chore that’s hers, paint a picture, give a back massage, carry her stuff, hold a door… you get the picture!
Have fun!
So I wonder what would happen if we all played ever day?
What do you think?
I never had an advent calendar as a kid. I decided to make one for the girls this year. I didn't really know what I was doing, so I made it up.
In November, I sat down with my eldest and explained that we’d be giving gifts from our hearts this year. “Doing” gifts and “being” gifts. If we gave stuff, it would have to be made from supplies we already have on hand. (And we’re pretty blessed with “stuff on hand,” to be sure.)
“Think of things that would warm someone’s heart.” She and I brainstormed a list of a couple dozen acts of kindness that would do just that. I made a tree out of craft foam and we made round ornaments out of construction paper and wrapping paper. I numbered them from 2 – 24 and then wrote an act of kindness on the back of each one.
Each day after breakfast they take turns taking off an ornament. After work/school, we do what it says. Last Friday, we rang the Salvation Army bell in front of WalMart for an hour in 8 degree weather. Yesterday, we wrote letters of thanks to recovering soldiers. Today, we’ll each choose 6 stuffed toys to give away. (Yes, me too. I still have virtually all of mine, but I’ve just hidden them amongst the girls’ toys.)
Over the weekend, we made my great aunt cry. (I know, that hardly seems kind.) The girls called her and sang Feliz Navidad. Then they followed up with an unexpected (and LOUD) Jingle Bells. My youngest told her all about our new “activity” scene “with the baby Jesus and EVERYTHING.” And my eldest told her that Santa can’t cancel Christmas no matter how bad it snows. You just can’t cancel a birthday.
My aunt’s heart was warmed over and over, so much so, her eyes had to leak. I’m so proud of them for taking this on with gusto.
They keep thinking of things that aren’t on the ornaments. We need a “leftover list” so we can keep up with the game on into January. Loving generously shouldn’t stop when the tree is empty. The star at the top (#1) should remind us to think of a new kindness every night… hmmm… I smell a new game!
Merry Christmas!
We all need some Yoda, don't we?
Here you go...
Episode I
Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you.
-Yoda
In Episode III:
Yoda: The fear of loss is the pathway to the darkside. Attachment leads to jealousy, the shadow of greed that is.
Anakin: I won't let these dreams become real.
Yoda: Death is a natual part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them do not, miss them do not.
Anakin: What must I do, Master Yoda?
Yoda: Train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.
What are you hanging onto too tightly? A thing? A concept? A behavior?
What would it give you to release your grip? What does holding fast cost you?
*(ZFB= zit for brains)
I've now run the gamut of ER, MD (GP), DC, Bad Neuro, Endo, Good Neuro and will make another stop at ND before the trip is over. All I need is a loaf of bread, a nice manchego cheese, and a bottle of Merlot and my meal of alphabet soup will be complete.
At the "Good Neuro's" office yesterday, I was told that the zit is not worthy of time nor concern. No need to take a second look unless I can't look up, down and sideways without moving my head to do so. No reason for the icicle drippy feeling, no reasons for the rest of my "not quite me" feelings.
He told me that the stress of an extrovert in isolation (as we mom-trepreneurs often endure), having a busy/noisy mind (that sometimes wanders into dark and ugly spaces without being checked with what's true), and feeling I must stay sedintary at my PC can cause a lot of stress. So part of his perscription was yoga, meditation and doing more drive-bys (doing for others reduces stress, did you know that?)
Throughout all of this, I'm reminded to be grateful. Grateful for friends who encourage me to know that I'm the master of domain (so to speak...) and only I know my body best. If this isn't "normal," I need to keep pressing on until I get to a root cause.
Patience, of course, is not one of my best skills. Given that irritability is one of my largest symptoms, I truly embody Bill Cosby's wife as he describes her in Fatherhood... stop it. Stop It! STOP IT!!! That's me at least once a day.
I did make a bit of a breakthrough yesterday. After using the glucose monitor, signs may be pointing in the direction of hypoglycemia, which in and of it self is not a diagnosis, but will help us go backwards to find the cause of the low blood sugar. Something is out of balance.
I'm all about balance. Could dance on the arm of a chair for hours in college and I've been dubbed "Limbo Queen" even though I have not defended my title in the last 5 or 6 years.
So it looks like I'm not as sweet as I used to be. I hear as one nears 40, a good deal of the overt "sweet" is filtered out. I'd like to keep the "sweet" that's on the inside, though... no matter what happens. We'll take this one step at a time.
I'll keep you posted as I keep literally and figuratively poking along.
“Not a catastrophe -- just another tricky day.”
This is an expression my dad uses a lot to answer life’s adversities. The “tricky day” perspective can keep us from swirling the drain, but sometimes, enough tricky days in a row can lead to a downright catastrophe-- or at least what seems like one.
Over the last couple of months, I’ve let some things slide. It began with my work schedule getting shuffled. Losing a few hours here and there for doctor’s appointments, for medical self-advocacy, sick children, extinguishing personal fires, taking a much needed respite, etc.
The time spent in the office was scattered as well. I was changing focus, shifting gears, letting “home business” seep into “office business.” Then I stopped using my desk system and somehow, eventually started making multiple lists with duplicate items. This is an organized coach’s nightmare.
I had a revelation this morning. I went to my desk, which was embarrassingly covered in paper crap. As I sorted, I found 6 lists in varying degrees of completion, school announcements, the PTA notes, medical bills to fight and an overdue water bill (only technically 8 hrs overdue, but still.) So I ventured to the checkbook, and finding it void of checks, proceeded to the box of fresh books of checks to find that empty as well and then declared, “TIME OUT!”
While my single goal for the day was to get a long overdue Gem to my readers by day’s end, I had to stop the insanity. One habit broken had led to a domino effect of chaotic slide.
I’m sharing this with all of you so that you can be assured that routines and habits work. And, knowing that that do, we can find comfort in getting back into them when all hell’s broken loose at home and work.
I recovered my desk in 35 minutes. I looked a fast-forwarded movie, but I now have checks on the way, papers recycled/filed, two functional (*see below) lists – work and personal, a clean desktop and a paid water bill.
*I took all my lists, circled the unfinished items that mattered and wrote each item on a new list (done on an 8.5 x 3” scrap of recycled paper, you know the backs of all that wasted paper from school notes, I fold it in half twice for notes and grocery lists). Then I brain-dumped the rest of what’s keeping me scattered.
Follow up with new contacts, vacuum floors, wash the sinks, make Christmas giving list, search for gift items online, call church regarding coat donation location, finalize Thanksgiving menu, fight with insurance company. With my handy dandy scissors, I cut each item off the list. Now I could categorize. Today, I went simply, business, and personal. I could break it down all kinds of ways, really. Household, business, kids, night projects, personal care, time it takes to complete – it depends on the day.
Then I found some trusty rubber cement. (Instead of scraps of paper, you can use tiny sticky notes, whatever works.) I made a strip of that smelly stuff down the middle of a new scrap. I then spread all the scraps on my very clean desk and sorted them by personal and business, then prioritized, affixing the most important item to the top of each list and continuing down. Once an item is finished, I can rip it off and toss it. I can reorder and add if need be.
Lovely. I feel so much better after my time out (even if I am still dreading my fight with the insurance company!)
What habits need resurrecting in your house?
If you need a quick habit rescue, call me. The first person to call before December 1 gets a free ½ hour of coaching.
I've been doing a few drive-bys lately. Not the violent kind. The kindness kind.
I was recently the receiver of a few drive-bys as well. A drive-by shoe-ing (my daughter received a coveted pair of "farmin shoes" from over the stateline) and a drive-by gift certificate-ing.
I've made loads of applesauce (from very tasty FREE apples from an unsprayed tree, truly Heaven-sent) and acquired a load of squash recently (a literal trunk-load to be precise). So I've been sharing here and there as well.
My folks did a drive-by pie-ing last week to retaliate for the drive-by farm-shoe-ing. I couldn't participate in that one. (Bummer!)
I've been rightfully charged with drive-by huggings and kissings as well.
I'm planning a drive-by to a long lost friend soon. It will be very unexpected and perhaps unrecognized. That's not the point. I will have giggles in my heart, hoping that my friend will remember the joy and let go of the rest.
Do you have someone who needs a drive-by?
Who'd like to play the game with me? Rack up some drive-by points? Leave stuff on unsuspecting people's porches and doorsteps? C'mon, it's fun.
Tell on yourself in the comment section.
Who's in? Most points wins a fun prize... don't be lame!
I’m still exploring this one. It’s been a long explore. The word “generous” keeps stumping me. Maybe it’s our current environment. Maybe it’s that I’m digging too deeply into the concept (i.e. if one has an abundance of something and gives extra away, is it as generous as one who has just a little and shares anyway?)
So I switched gears and began exploring love instead. Love languages to be precise. I’ve confirmed my own and have been trying to be more conscious of knowing and respecting the languages of those around me.
Gary Chapman’s Five Love Languages outlines these:
• Words of Affirmation
• Quality Time
• Receiving Gifts
• Acts of Service
• Physical Touch
So, what I’ve been thinking is that to truly love generously, one has to be willing to know what the receiver would most like AND be willing to provide that even when it’s not something one’s good at, or enjoys doing, It also may mean giving a resource you aren’t certain you possess, like extra time.
My 6 year old absolutely loves making looper pot holders and plastic cross-stitch doohickies. That stuff drives me batty. Sometimes loving her generously means being sure that it’s in the bag that goes with her to Grandma’s house, or making sure that her very patient dad is around to help her before she embarks on a new project. Other times, it’s stopping whatever I’m doing and sitting “pretzel leg” on the floor to help her through the beginning or end of whatever poorly written directions she’s trying to follow.
Later, she tells me it was the very best part of her day. Those measly 15 minutes. And I think to myself, “how stingy can I BE?” Yes, I’m a busy lady. Yes, I often feel a shortage of time and other resources, but the little girl’s language is quality time. A smidge of my day spent right in her face.
Can do.
Will do more often.
How about you? What is it that you could give? What “foreign language” are you willing to learn?
p.s. My daughter loves me generously right back by understanding when I say “no” to her craft and then asking if she can help me make dinner.
I met Connie a few weeks ago in Lake Geneva. This lady has the goods on making things from scratch. Her book is written like she's standing in your kitchen helping you along the way. She's a busy woman (author, actress, speaker, trainer, AND gourmet chef), so don't think you can't do make your own from scratch just because you're working!
In June, she was highlighted in the Chicago Sun Times. "If you can't stand the expense, get back in the kitchen!" GREAT tips for stretching your bucks in the kitchen! Here are just a few:
"Your life is not little, and your playing small doesn't serve the world. Your living large, on the other hand -- your being your true self despite fear, fatigue, doubt, and opposition -- will serve the world more than you can imagine. In fact, it may help save it. And saving the world, after all, is what all heroes (including you) are here to do."
So I’ve been wracking my brain (which is under the weather anyway) to understand the concept of loving generously. What does it mean to me?
Is it about gifts? What kind of gifts? Gifts of the heart? Things we do for one another? Is it about “things” at all? What is generosity anyhow? It is freely giving what you have and while still remaining comfortable? Or is it about sacrifice and giving even if it means a temporary state of lack?
Pretty ponderous.
I’ve been quiet on The Chest because I couldn’t think of anything outrageously thoughtful or uplifting to bring to you. Not very real of me, I’m afraid. I’d be the first person to tell a friend that we love each other for our reality. We love the guts – good, bad and ugly. That’s what it is to love generously. You love even when you’re not sure how, even when you’re unsure if you can. Even when it’s scary.
So I have something to get “on my chest” in this case. (I’ve been “off” The Chest for too long!) Here’s what up.
You know how you feel the day after a baby (or neighbor, or work) has kept you up all night? Function is difficult, temper is short, thoughts don’t connect, memory fails, your inner monologue fails and you find yourself saying things that would otherwise be filtered. You know in your heart that going back to bed would be the best bet, but you can’t do that because you have a home and business to run. This is what the last month has felt like for me.
I gave my husband permission to call me “zit for brains.” I have an 8mm cyst on my brain (pineal gland to be precise) and we’re trying to remain humorous about it until we know what happens next. The pineal gland controls melatonin, so among other things, I get tired quickly. I’ve been under care for a while trying to diagnose what’s going on and this was found somewhat by accident. My chiropractor believes I may have adrenal fatigue syndrome which could account for the many symptoms I’ve had in the recent past. The cyst may or may not be a part of that.
Surgery is possible, but not eminent at this point. (If you put your finger in the middle of your forehead and go in about an inch or two, that’s where the pineal gland is. They’d go in through the nose (or “snort holes” as my daughter calls them…) so at least there would be no cracking of the melon.) We should know more next month after a visit to an endocrinologist and a neurologist.
For now, we wait. (And dream up ways to find it funny.)
Part of my silence about this has been about fear. What will my clients and others think about a coach with a zit on her brain? Will they trust me? So, to be sure, I have the following very much under control:
• Honesty (my inner monologue is pretty gone!)
• An intense focus on what matters
• A desire to keep things moving forward
Loving generously is, among other things, being real, being honest, sharing one's whole self. Perhaps the zit is a gift. Here, here’s permission to uncork your inner monologue and just say what’s really going on in there.
What’s going on in your head? How do you love generously?
I’m an energy girl.
When I was a kid, my folks had window shades that blocked out most of the morning, but any tiny ray of light that squeaked around the shade made it right into my eyes. They’d fling open and I’d have my feet on the floor in a nanosecond, ready to begin a new day.
Since this was typically NOT the time the rest of the household was moving, it was not looked at as “a gift.” As I got older, though, being a morning person had its merits.
Recently, I’ve been experiencing some health challenges which have made getting out of bed, and waking in general, a huge challenge. Cheerful is somewhat off the table until a cup of coffee is in the mama.
This shift is tough to take, for me as well as for those who must endure me prior to 8am. I’ve tried to run during the bewitching moments so that no one else suffers. Hard to hoist the kiester.
Gas prices what they are, perhaps I'm just following the trend.
Anyone have some great ideas for this energy girl to solve her current personal energy crisis?
How do you wake ready to start the day? What's your current mantra?
On the suggestion of another coach, I read some of Tony Robbins work. Awaken the Giant Within.
What struck me the most was his stress on the importance of making decisions. Often, I watch clients say they’ve “decided” something, but then there is no action to back it up. Tony reminded me that a decision is so much more than we toss around.
“I’d like to spend more time face to face with my kids.”
“I’d like to get a solid product line for which I’m well known.”
“I’d like to decrease my overhead.”
These are more like wishes than decisions. Tony states, “the word “decision” comes from the Latin roots de, which means “from,” and caedere, which means “to cut.” Making a true decision means committing to achieving a result, and then cutting yourself off from any other possibility.” (p.39)
When times get ugly, it becomes easier (but certainly not always more productive) to just roll with the punches and become reactive… simply living. When people ask how you’re doing, you say, “I’m doing” with no particular passion.
Grab hold and get back to what matters most to you. Then cut the rope and paddle!
I’m feeling particularly “bloggy” today. Perhaps it’s the chill in the air. Maybe it’s just that there’s so much to be said for living simply. I strive for it, even if I often fail.
I was reminded of Steve Martin in “The Jerk” the other day. He’s naked and leaving his exorbitant house after losing everything in a terrible lawsuit. As he leaves, he takes a pen or something trivial and says, “and that’s all I need. Just this pen.” As he moves towards the door, he keeps accumulating things he “needs.” “And this ashtray, and this dog, and this…” Mind you, he’s naked. None of the things he’s taking with him are clothes!
I often pack for a trip like The Jerk. And then I laugh at myself. That’s not half as bad as using his method while shopping at the grocery store or at Wal-Mart or Target. I’m trying to train the kids away from the The Jerk shopping method.
The Jerk antidote? A list. (And a bit of will power.)
What’s simple consuming for you?
When my volume increases, my heart pounds and my shoulders get closer to my ears than to my armpits, I know it’s time to cut back on activities.
My idea of living simply in this season for my family is to allow one regularly scheduled recurring event per person (work and school don’t count). So, the kids can have one lesson or club at a time, and we parents get a recurring extra-curricular to do by ourselves as well.
As the kids get older, I realize the expectations will probably change. Right now, our value is on training them to be good people at home and easing them into the world of influence. Believe me, they come home with enough “influence” already. “Where on earth did you hear/see THAT?!”
We do simple activities. Having people to dinner teaches hospitality. Being a guest at someone else’s home teaches them to be grateful and flexible and accepting of differences. We help at our parents’ farms, learning that everyone can contribute. Planting and harvest times are especially fun. And we have times to just be still.
What are your values for your family’s schedule? Is it living simply or something else? I’d love your thoughts.
I mentioned last week that a lot of my writing is about my new mantra. “Live Simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.”
When I ponder “living simply,” a few things come up for me. First, THINGS come up. You know… stuff, crap, the junk in my closets, littering the yard, in bins. The treasures we keep that end up keeping us.
I was given a large LLBean boat bag when each my girls were born. The monogram was the same on each. Motetes. In Puerto Rico, where my mom is from, this is a slang word for all the necessary things one must have with her for security and comfort. You know, like a blankie and a teddy, maybe a toothbrush if dental hygiene is your thing.
It was a joke of sorts since my mom knew that any time we came for the day, I’d have more than a full Motetes bag of stuff with me. Babies don’t travel light! As we’ve grown past diapers and sippies and the rest, it’s refreshing to have the occasional single Motetes bag trip.
As I look at the rest of my stuffness, I realize that it’s just that, stuff. In the end, I can’t take it with me, no matter how many Motetes bags I own. Although I can’t bring myself to give it ALL up (like a monk), I have set some boundaries for myself. Here are just a few examples:
"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...it’s about learning how to dance in the rain." Unknown
I love that one!
For the past two days, we've experienced a 30+ degree drop in temp and it's poured and poured. We've needed rain badly. After the first day and a half, we'd had about enough to saturate and then some. The previously cracking ground is now muddy and squishy and the Robins are loving it.
Last week my family soaked up a bit too much sun while trying to squeeze in every last drop of summer swimming and outdoor rec. The rain forced us to spend time indoors and rediscover all the wintertime activities we'd left in the attic last spring. For me it was quite welcomed. I'm sorting and purging baby clothes up there.
I have a client who's experienced a different kind of storm. It's raining orders for her business. They're coming from all over! While this is a wonderful situation, it's also overwhelming for her. With school and all it's activities starting, she feels like she's dashing around with buckets to catch the downpour! We brainstormed creative ways to make time and produce more products quickly. During the call, we moved from the perspective of "If only this were different... then it would all be better" to "Be present and focused with the blessings at hand and trust that the rest will follow."
Dance in the rain.
How can you dance in the rain of your current situation?
There are so many rules these days, aren't there? I try to give my kids simple directions as I drop them at school/care or to someone's house for a visit. These days, I could use a few simpler rules for myself. I've finally found my new mantra on the tail end of a few email forwards. (Wisdom comes in so many forms, no?)
"When the day is over and you have done your best,
wait the results in peace."
I've defined the first 4 rules for my own life over and over... waiting results in peace and putting trust in something other than myself is a little foreign still (that entrepreneurial nature...), but I'm working on it.
Where in your life do you need to trust?
I read a newsletter article this morning called, “Are We Too Child-Centered?” from Raelee Pierce, The Noble Mother. It's about being way "hand-on" and rigorously scheduled and always down playing with the kids. I truly needed to hear what she had to say. I’m so glad I gifted myself the moment to read it. (To see the whole article, go to here )
I’m a 1970 girl. Nearly everything she wrote resonated with me. I’ve been striving for giving my girls some of the independence we had as kids and have felt guilty about it. I feel like my hands have not been very “on” my kids and that it’s somehow wrong. I’m quite preoccupied with how this summer has somehow left my house disheveled. I’m very distracted when I try to stick to a hands-on kids’ project.
What I’ve noticed is that my children are developing work ethic. They are developing creative play that mirrors my industriousness… and there is no shame in that. They are taking value in contributing to the household so that we have a tidy home AND a Mommy who has time to play as well.
When my eldest was really little, she knew that if she brought me a board book, I’d stop whatever I was doing, sit directly on the floor with her in my lap and read the book. (Honestly, how long does it take to read a board book?!) Interestingly, she wouldn’t take advantage. She’d get her fix and then occupy herself for quite some time thereafter.
I remember asking my mom to play (I was/am very social) and often she encouraged me to play solo or was too busy with household happenings or simply wasn’t inclined to play what I was playing. That was something I wanted to change in my own mothering, but I’m wondering now if I might strike a better balance. Some of my best days are those when I take short spurts of spontaneous play with the kids… following the moment and jumping in, as if summoned by some divine cue.
It’s lovely. I’d like more of that, so it’s “on the agenda” (so to speak!) :)
How hands-on are you? What would it be like to simply watch what they do when left to their own devices?
The other day I heard a semi truck briefly blow it's startling air horn going through town. When I looked, I noticed it was strictly for the amusement of 3 kids on bicycles doing pulling their fists down repeatedly, egging him on. I thought, "how cool of him to oblige," knowing full well that a few of the elderly folks may have had slight accidents of one kind or another after hearing the blast.
A couple days ago, we saw Elmo in a yellow convertible (yes, the real Elmo, not a guy in suit, like my 6 year old supposed...). He saw the children and he waved wildly. (A little trivia, Delavan, WI is the circus capital of the world, and even though the circus hasn't blessed these parts in years, apparently the people of the town have yet to be informed.)
A game we used to play in the car was counting how many people you could get to smile or wave at you while driving on the highway. It wasn't the count that mattered so much. It was the connection.
Action warrants reaction. We expect it. We thrive on it. It's energizing. And when we both notice at the same time... connection. If even for just a moment.
As I've grown, I like to play the connection game still. I count smiles. The grocery store is a fun place to try it. Even better is the DMV. People are typically stressed. A smile says, "I get it. Don't worry, you're okay."
In my business, I've had fun with the connection game. It's amped up a bit. We pass good energy and enthusiasm. We connect the resourceful people we know with other resourceful people we know, in hopes to lift everyone a bit and boost their success. These days, it's not just fun, it's vital, especially for entrepreneurs. We need to connect and move forward supporting one another. We can't do or know or be it all on our own. We have to have our "peeps."
What resources are you keeping to yourself? Your smile? Your wave? Your energetic and efficient accountant? Who could you connect?
I was pondering how many times lately I’ve used the word “Look!” in the car lately in an attempt to decrease the incidence of “Are we there yet?”
I’m a child of Saturday morning cartoons and after school re-runs of Happy Days and Lavern and Shirley, but I have to say I’m not a real fan of having the TV on for more than an hour or two during any given day. I’m also not a big fan of the on board DVD players.
But to be honest, a borrowed unit did save my sanity when I traveled 6+ hours alone with my kids. But I didn’t feel good about it.
Lately, the kids and I have been playing the Corn and Beans Game. About 4 hours into my solo trip with them, I needed a pastime that would keep them from looking at one another. (Bill Cosby could not have been more right about sibling rivalry.) And so, the Corn and Beans Game was born.
“What do you see out your window? Corn or Beans?” In late June, it was difficult to tell. And when neither was present, we sometimes learned a new crop. “Wheat! Evergreens! Dead grass! Cows!” Every time the scenery changed, they’d get to shout what they had.
Increasing their awareness of what’s around them has led to some pretty interesting discoveries. “There’s a crashing plane that’s smoking!” We learned about crop dusters that day. Or the day my 3 year old saw the sun setting behind a cloud, perfectly displaying rays of light on every side, she burst with excitement from the backseat, “Look!!! Look, it’s God! Do you see it? Can you? It’s GOD!”
And because of her, we all could.
What have your children helped you see? What are you still missing?
My coach sent me the email forward, “Carrot, Egg and Coffee Beans.” You may have read it. If not, I posted it below for your reading pleasure, as it’s a good one. Mary Sullivan is the author.
It’s about how we consciously choose to let adversity affect us.
As working parents, we’re faced with adversity on a daily basis. Someone’s hurt or someone’s sick, yet you have to get to work. Someone needs to be taken to this practice but the car is in the shop. You have an important meeting, yet you’ve had 4 hours of sleep and can’t find your skirt. The kids need school clothes and supplies yet your big client asked for a two month extension on his invoice…
We are left to consciously choose how to handle the situation as well as how we will let it affect us. The gift is that we get a choice. We have free will. As long as we’re willing to accept the consequences of our choices, we can (as our kids accuse us “grown ups” of) “do anything we want!”
The curse is that we have to make a choice. Often the choice with the best consequence isn’t the easiest one to choose. We have to disappoint in the moment in order to create a better big picture in the future. We have to covet our work hours to build a better business. We have to discipline the kids when it would take less energy to just let it go. And sometimes, we have to put our life's passions on the back burner to get food on the table.
These are tough times. You might be stressed to a boiling point. But if we can all brew the coffee while the water's hot and see the blessing in that scalding kettle, your smile comes back as you sip.
What choice will lift you up? Choose it.
A quick internet search taught me that this is not (contrary to popular belief) an anonymously written piece, although it's traveled through cyberspace as one. Mary Sullivan is the author. Enjoy. (And thanks, Mary!)
A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved, a new one arose.
Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water and placed each on a high fire. Soon the pots came to boil. In the first she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs, and in the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil; without saying a word.
In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, ' Tell me what you see.'
'Carrots, eggs, and coffee,' she replied.
Her mother brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard boiled egg.
Finally, the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked, 'What does it mean, mother?'
Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity: boiling water. Each reacted differently. The carrot went in strong, ha rd, and unrelenting. However, after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior, but after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened. The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water, they had changed the water.
'Which are you?' she asked her daughter. 'When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?
Think of this: Which am I? Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?
Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff? Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and hardened heart?
Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you. When the hour is the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate yourself to another level?
How do you handle adversity? Are you a carrot, an egg or a coffee bean?
I asked several friends recently how they coped with loved ones dying from cancer. I was curious as I feel at a loss for how to support the unfortunately large number of friends and family who have recently been touched by this wretched disease.
One described switching into an almost auxiliary mode of adrenaline; swallowing each new step as it comes in, doing what you can with what you've got in the moment.
"Today, we're hearing the news from the oncologist. Now, we're understanding what chemo really means. Now, we're waiting to see what it did. Today, we're hearing the next news. Now we're getting affairs in order and talking openly about death. Now, we're doing death. Today we're doing funeral..." No matter what, she still had to wake with her daughter, feed her and head to work. The world didn't stop for her situation.
Another said that somewhere in the mix there are bouts of mourning, but it took weeks, maybe even months after she was gone to realize what really happened. Events like the first major holiday without her or a task like baking Christmas cookies would spur breakdowns.
What I gathered from their descriptions is to let my loved ones be right where they are on the wave. They might be in a state of shock, sadness, relief or anger or all of those at once. The other bit I learned is that "shoulding" on someone who's mourning is also pretty counterproductive to their process.
I've been watching a loved one get "should" on by very well-intentioned fellow mourners after the recent loss of her husband. "You should run away with us for the weekend... get right back to work... take a long vacation..." I simply can't imagine what she's going through, so how would I know what she "should" or "needs to" do?
I asked a well-respected grief counselor what to do. Be available. "Let her know you're there to help her in any way you can."
After the funeral, a group of us went out on the lake and hung out, anchored at their favorite beach. Even in the shallow water, the chop from the busy lake made it hard to stand at times, so we tried kneeling. It was cooler, but not much easier. The steadiest I felt was when I took my feet off the ground, immersed myself and floated, riding the waves.
Where would you like to ride the waves in your life? What's keeping you from lifting your feet?
So when someone is down and out and needs some support, they typically get a meal from me. An easy one to double is lasagna.
Between family illnesses, surgeries and new babies, May and June were filled with "lasagnas" of one kind or another. Some were given, some received (remember, I yelled "Uncle!")
At a recent GAL-thering (congregation of women), a friend looked at me and said, "Man, you've got a LOT going on!" It took me a moment and then I skewed a Forrest Gump quote.
"Sometimes, there just isn't enough lasagna."
My youngest was pleased as punch to have an over abundance of her favorite dish which she refers to as "wizzonya." Perhaps that's what I could call Summer 08... The Summer of Wizzonya. All inferences welcome...
The funny thing about it is that I hadn't really put myself in the category of having that much piled on me. I can see way more piled on my loved ones. My eldest daughter had a similar situation this week. She was stung on the forehead by a deer fly and her whole face puffed to high bits. She looked like a Star Trek Klingon or Botox gone bad, but she couldn't see it or feel it. When I kept looking at her pitifully, asking if she was okay, she finally told me to knock it off. "I'm fine, Mom!"
It's hard to know that place of when concern turns to pity and when helping may imply you see helplessness. I suppose that's when intuition kicks in to let you know whether "I'm okay" really means "I'm okay" or not.
"When in doubt, go help out" is what I try to live by, even if I have to take my wizzonya and go home.
Talk to me. What do you think?
I read an article at Sparkpeople.com that talked about setting realistic goals in increments. The article was about weight loss. They gave the example that a woman weighing, say, 170 lbs, will aim to lose 40 lbs. That’s almost 24% of her weight.
When she loses 10 or 15 lbs, she feels like she’s failed, so she stops trying. They suggest aiming to lose 10% of whatever you weigh and giving yourself a reasonable amount of time to accomplish it. Once you have the first step done, aim for the next 10%. The energy you get from the win keeps you moving.
I’ve heard clients say that they won’t start something they can’t win. Wow. Depending on the definition you hold for “winning,” you could miss out on a whole lot.
An Indian colleague of mine, Mr. Hundekari, once told me, “you cannot eat an elephant in one bite.” It’s the same thing as the 10% rule, yet I can’t always assimilate analogies across subjects.
When it comes to goals involving numbers, the 10% rule helps me keep goals in bite sized pieces. In our super-sized world, we inadvertently think in big chunks and leaps and “pantry packs.” It takes conscious choice to be reasonable with, let alone gentle on ourselves.
So what kind of Sam’s Club goal have you dumped on yourself this month? Are you doubling your sales? Revamping your entire marketing strategy? Are you teaching your 2 year old to read AND use the toilet? What goal could you dive after knowing you can win?
I ran a 5K on the 4th of July.
I didn't break any records. In fact, in the home stretch, there was a 25 MPH speed limit sign that made my already cottoned mouth laugh to the point of nearly gagging. I composed myself straight away as my goal was to finish the race without dying or throwing up.
Having just recovered from pneumonia in early June and having scattered bits of travel and events throughout our June schedule, training was not in the forefront of my mind. Running certainly helped the stress during the week of my mom's surgery (and how hilarious to be watched by their 8 horses as I trekked up and down their winding driveway!) Despite the empowerment gained after a run, 10,000 excuses kept me from making it routine last month. Exhaustion and inconvenience were the top two.
After the first mile of the race, two teenagers passed me. I knew their ages by the "Class of" printed on their backs. There was no breeze, we were running on a gravel track through a wooded area and, for a second, I muttered under my breath. They haven't had pneumonia. They haven't had two kids. They probably slept more than 12 hrs in the last week.
It was kind of evil. I literally shook my head to knock the crap thought out. Breathing was getting really hard. So I started to pray. God, just get me to the finish line with minimal walking. I'd like not to be last, but finishing without puking is fine, too.
Then I heard Dorrie from Finding Nemo. "Just keep running. Just keep running, running, running." Logic and empathy kicked in.
How am I to know what these fine teens are up to anyway? They're here at 9am on a holiday, aren't they? Who knows what stresses befall them in this moment? Teen stresses are often much worse than puking or dying.
Then the miraculous happened. They started to walk. I passed them! I kept running and the breeze picked up for a moment. Finishing the race before two teens, I really began wondering if I had a megaphone on my inner monologue. (Scary thought.)
After the race, my 6 year old handed me a dandelion and a dead leaf. "Here you go, Mom. This is to make you feel better since you didn't win."
"Oh honey, but I did win. I just didn't come in first. Sometimes just finishing is winning." She was less than convinced.
No matter what, running has an empowering effect on me. Except, of course, when I don't do it. Then, by my own definition, I lose.
How do you define a win? What are you losing by simply not trying?
I'm a fan of Wayne Dyer. He teaches a lot of life wisdom that spans all religions (providing one is open to hearing it). In one of his books focused on Chinese philosophy, Change Your Thoughts—Change Your Life: Living the Wisdom of the Tao, he wrote the following:
Living Calmly
In this chapter of the Tao Te Ching, you're being advised to maintain a sense of serenity regardless of what you may see taking place around you. Moreover, you're being told that the true master knows that the ability to stay calm is always located within. From this perspective, there's no need to assign responsibility to others for how you feel. Even though you may live in a world where blame and faultfinding are endemic, you will own your feelings and actions. You will know that circumstances don't determine your state of mind, for that power rests with you. When you maintain a peaceful inner posture, even in the midst of chaos, you change your life.
The wisdom of this verse of the Tao Te Ching prompts you to know that you have a choice. Do you want to be in a state of confusion or to have a tranquil inner landscape? It's up to you! Armed with this insight, the Tao master doesn't allow an
external event to be a disturbance. Lao-tzu tells you that assigning blame for your lack of calmness will never bring you to the state of being that you're striving to attain. Self-mastery only blossoms when you practice being aware of, and responsible for, what you're feeling.
I speak a lot about replacing chaos with joy. The truth of the matter is that chaos will inevitably exist. One may joyfully, or simply, more calmly, weather the chaos. Sometimes I'm successful at controlling the chaos of my home or work (like routinely feeding the kids so they don't get crazy or keeping a prioritized list of deadlines in a work calendar). But other times, it's completely out of my hands (someone gets sick, the bridge is out, or my Internet or phone is on the fritz).
Understanding and accepting the concept of personal responsibility is key to enjoying myself. I own my reactions and subsequent choices. Blaming others or situations is futile. Trying to change that which is out of my control is pointless as well.
The same story is evident in the Bible. Jesus calms the storm, but as we study, we ask, "was it the storm outside or the one within that was calmed?" And in the midst of situations, it's helped to ask that of myself. Which is the calm-able storm?
Even closer to where I am today, I think of the movie, The Incredibles. As the villain, Syndrome, is flying away with their baby, the mom superhero is yelling at her husband superhero, "BOB! DO something!!!" He responds, "I can't throw anything, honey! I'll hit the baby!" Now for the personal responsibility part. She then says, "Throw me. Bob, THROW ME!!!"
I'm not made of elastic like our superhero mom (who, incidentally, caught the baby and floated to safety by making her body into a parachute), but I'd like to think I could work on being more creative (and flexible!) and personally responsible for my solutions.
How about you?
Last week my mom had surgery. She's fine, but the surgery was unsuccessful. As my dad and I waited for a day until her discharge from the hospital, we rode a coaster of anger, disappointment and yes, blame.
The doctors did what they were supposed to do. The surgeons suspected something going wrong during the procedure, weighed the risks and stopped, erring on the side of caution. This means we'll have to try again in 2 months to fix the problem. It means that the surgery was a big, expensive pain and physical and emotional inconvenience. It means that we have to wait even longer for her to feel well.
He and I discussed possibilities of other doctors, other options, what-ifs, whys and scenarios ending in "heads will roll." After running through a flaming battery of murky-watered woulda coulda shoudas, we settled into a place that was much more calm, crisp and clear.
On the way to go get Mom, Dad said, "I've been thinking about surrender." He went on. "Not the giving up kind. I mean the there isn't always an answer kind."
"You mean the letting go kind, right?" That was it. It's pretty freeing.
In a Michael J. Fox interview I read some time ago, he spoke of blame as going inward. I pictured it like heartburn. He then asked the interviewer, "Is it worth the effort to put the attention on blame?"
We came to a new place. "It is what it is and we move on from here." Without all the blame burning us up, we can focus our energies on Mom and ideas for moving forward, rather than a futile "who dun it."
What do you choose to let go of? What's available to you once you surrender?
Wikipedia defines yelling "uncle" as "a cry of surrender."
That cold I wrote about last time… headed way into my lungs. I called a friend when I was still quite baritone-voiced, pretending to be fine. I was clinging to the notion that if I didn’t acknowledge that it hadn’t gone away, then I would just be well.
I’m all for the power of positive thinking, but I should know by now when to throw in the towel. When the doctor suspects pneumonia along with an ear infection and some bronchitis, it’s time.
My friend gave me permission to cancel 4 days of my life. My shoulders lowered and my body surrendered.
Ah... permission... Permission to stay home, permission to stay in bed. Permission to disappoint others for the sake of my health. Permission to be tired and acknowledge the fatigue. Permission to not jump up as soon as I felt a smidge better. ("That's the antibiotic talking!!! Go lay down.") It was quite a gift.
She also ratted me out to the angel moms in our circle and I became the lucky recipient of a meal at my doorstep for 3 consecutive evenings and a multitude of prayers, well-wishes and calls to see if I needed something. It made all the difference in my recovery.
In what part of your life is it time to yell, “UNCLE?”
Share it with us! Comment below!
So I'm sitting here with my teeth in my mouth, watching the weather change by the minute. Large gusts mixed with sunny calm keep passing through. Like most of the midwest, we're under a tornado watch until the next snow.
I hear this "crack, scrape, boom..." after the latest gust and figure it's my planters jumping into the lap of our quaint porch swing. Walking outside, I find that my neighbor's maple has lost a gargantia limb and dropped it on the hood of their truck and across the width of our street.
I'm very thankful not to have been running, driving or otherwise on the street. No one was hurt. I'm quite thankful that it wasn't a more southern limb that would've hit one (or both) of our houses. I like skylights and all, but it's not in the cards for this weekend.
As my neighbor arrives to assess the damage, he's thankful it wasn't the yellow Corvette.
:) It's the little things, isn't it?
What went just far enough in the right direction to make your day better?
That's the title of my upcoming teleclass (June 11). There's still one more spot if you'd like it. Email me at julie@julzoflife.com.
On Wednesday, as I brought my kids home from school/sitter, they were in cahoots about something. Big whispers in the back seat followed by them locking themselves in the toy room to create "a surprise."
I'm typically nervous about closed-door surprises from my munchkins (now 6 and 3 1/2 yrs), but I decided to let them be totally undisturbed for about an hour. There were occasional squabbles, but they worked them out on their own. I made dinner in peace. It was lovely.
Just as I was calling for them to wash up, they produced a brown paper gift bag, decorated and tied with a gold ribbon. The girls were grinning from ear to ear and on the verge of explosion if I didn't open it NOW.
Inside there were two Christmas cards. My older daughter's sweet poinsettia card said, "taks for wrking and taking care of us! Jasmine" and her little sister's Santa card was already printed with, "he's making a list... Hope all your dreams and wishes are fulfilled!" and then, "
I welled up. They have no idea how much these two cards meant to me. Their timing was impeccable. Their intentions, totally unprovoked.
Tell me, when was the last time you were genuinely and spontaneously appreciated?
The last issue of The Gem highlighted abundance. Many of you have emailed me about a situation that snapped you back to reality about your own abundance.
Please... take a minute to share with others what did it for you.
It's too funny how many of you wrote to me about also having a nasty cold. Almost as many who struggle with negativity.
So maybe we should all stand on our chairs at the same time and chant, "I am well and lucky to be here today!" (Although it might sound like "I emb well and so luggyto be here... cough wheez gag... " Beware of fallout below.)
Be well. Drink liquids. Stay away from others!
So now what?!
You're settled in your comfy routine of work/school/childcare/activities... and BAM! June comes along before you know it.
I promised in The Gem that I'd be asking you questions for my upcoming book. I meant it. I need your help. I'd like to know two things... your biggest frustration and your biggest "secret weapon" for a joyful transition into summer.
Think about the following aspects:
Let me know your thoughts and a copy of "5 Steps to Unclog the Drain and Let Your Energy Flow" is YOURS!
In the first chapter of my book, we go over values exploration.
So I'm curious, what values guided your decision to have kids?
To work?
To choose your type of work?
When you make big decisions, do you consciously consider your core values, or just trust your intuition? Are you a pro/con list maker? Or do you flip coins and read tea leaves?
Tell me. I truly want to hear what you have to say.
Happy belated Mother's Day, Moms!
I do hope you weren't online, or worse yet, WORKING on your day. I hope you were able to marvel at your offspring and be thankful.
My very first Mother's Day was just a few days after the birth of my first daughter. I remember bringing her home. I sat in the hospital vestibule in a wheelchair with her on my lap in a basket carseat. The sun was pouring in the windows as we waited for my proud husband to bring the car around. There was an old woman on oxygen across the way in her own wheelchair. She stretched her neck as far as she could to see in my basket.
"Who do you have there?" she asked.
With tears uncontrollably welling I choked out, "This is Jasmine," introducing her for the very first time. "I get to take her home."
There was so much in that declaration. I was finally believing that I'd been trusted enough to be a mother... it was tough to conceive, and thereafter I spent nearly 10 months (she was overdue) in disbelief. But in that moment, as I introduced my daughter, I also introduced myself as forevermore, "mommy."
The moment was truly divine.
What's you're favorite moment as a mother?
Yesterday, I was describing to a friend just what it felt like to have the "new and improved" julzolife.com live now.
"It feels like I've really stepped into my big girl pants."
Being a not-so-far-from-potty-training mother herself, she could totally relate. Then, she recalled the first time she felt like she had really worn her big girl pants (in the career sense).
"It was the first time I had to fire someone."
Years ago, when I made my first business cards, I thought I had pretty spiffy big girl pants. That wore off. (or for this analogy, perhaps "wore out" is more appropriate?) I wanted more.
When I made my first website ("All by myself!"), that was another day with spiffy BGPs. I grew out of those, too.
I'm sure there will be many new Big Girl Pants days ahead.
Tell me, what's your latest?
Last night I was introduced to a very interesting exercise. We were put in groups of 3 and then given a confrontational situation to role play. Two of us were to role play while the other observed. The one rule: we were not allowed to use the personal pronouns that referred to ourselves. Each time we did, the observer took our place.
It was amazing to realize just how many times one wants to say "I" to begin a sentence. Being brought up to use "I" statements when arguing a point, I was tongue-tied and anxious.
It took a few minutes, but after my partner began using the 3rd person ("Deb doesn't like that..."), I had an idea.
"We could cooperate?"
At first she looked confused. After all, this was a confrotational exercise. Were we allowed to cooperate?? Then, both of our shoulders softened and I saw relief on her face.
"Yes, yes I suppose we could? How shall we work this out?"
From there on, we were solution-focused rather than problem-focused. It was pretty amazing. I decided that the same thing would have happened if we banned the word "you" from the exercise instead.
I thought about spousal relationships, and angry siblings (I'm so going to use this with my kids in a couple years...), and whoo boy... POLITICS.
Where would you like to see it? Where would you like to try it?
I was talking to a gentleman at a networking event last night. We were discussing how to capitalize on what a community already has going for it. His parents were in agriculture. They would marvel at those around them who kept planting things that simply wouldn't grow in the conditions given. The same people would spend crazy amounts of time trying to get rid of what WOULD grow.
So often, we spend a horrible amount of time either lamenting what we don't have, or wracking our brains to figure out how to get it. To quote Sheryl Crow, "it's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got." I'm not talking about complacency here. I'm talking about re-framing.
What if we stopped pulling what grows naturally and looked at what's desirable about it?
We can take this to an individual level or mom-trepreneur level...
I'd love to hear what you come up with. Please share!
I posted a while back about the "bucket list" concept. You know, making a list of all the things you want to do before you kick the bucket. Not a very elegant way to look at it, but effective.
I've been gathering some of mine. Have a look. At the very least, I hope it spurs something for your own list. At best, may it compel you to share your list by commenting! (C'mon, what do you have to lose?!)
As I wrote, I noticed a theme. Barring the "immortalization" item, apparently I'm seeking to dive into scary situations (literally or figuratively) with a strong sense of trust in the unknown. Good to know.
What about you? What does your list reveal?
Every so often, each of us will step on to an emotional a roller coaster. We know what it's like... going up with wild anticipation and then plummeting to the bottom (leaving particles of yourself at the top) only to fly back upwards again and then round and round. How often do we get back from this trip affected, but pretty much at the same gate we left? We may be enlightened, elated or relieved... but we're back nearly where we started... deciding which direction to go next.
We know what our own roller coasters do for us, but what about when we get on someone elses?
It may be a friend who enters an unhealthy relationship, or a spouse who falls into a pit of self doubt or a co-worker who picks up an new gripe that's all-consuming. Whatever it is, their roller coaster can seem either so dangerous or so inviting that you just have to ride along.
Riding others' roller coasters, I've been compelled to get angry with my loved ones. I've been drawn into fights that weren't my own to fight. And I've taken on stresses that would best be served and worked out without my taking part. I've ridden lots of emotional roller coasters that simply weren't mine to ride.
I used to think it was healthy, or empathetic or supportive. I recently realized that it's not always so. Sometimes the best support I can offer is to watch from the ground, wave at them as they laugh and scream and be ready at the exit gate with steady footing (or a barf bag!) and let them lean on me while they absorb the ride.
Whose coaster do you need to step off of?
I'm a member of an online networking group called "mums the word" on ning. I read a blog post today from a mum in South West Scotland talking about how mothers wear many hats each day ranging from the mundane to the really emotion-wracking and still remain to keep it “together.”
We get our own eyes open for a moment, our "fashion expert" whips up an outfit out of nothing, our "wife" kisses the husband, our "nurturer" snuggles with the little face that appears bedside, our "groomer" gets the hair bows fastened, our "cook" makes the lunches, our "teacher" prods the homework completion, our “counselor” assures our little girl that Sophia really doesn’t “hate her” and even if she does, one need not quit kindergarten over it, and then our "career lady" shifts gears into work mode (was there a shower somewhere in there??)
Somehow, most of us are able to maintain an amazing appearance of decorum even though our insides might be blown all to bits. As we move through motherhood, wearing all the hats that appear in front of us... sometimes we choose them, sometimes we just wear a hat unknowingly... following the moment, flowing with the need at hand.
But who, indeed, is there when WE fall apart? With whom can we feel safe and coddled in the moment when we're all used up?
I had a moment like this last December. I called my great aunt. I needed to be heard and when I said the words, "there is something on my heart," I fell to tears. I immediately thanked her for being on the line to hear me, to be with me and to hold the space for whatever came next. I was in bits and pieces all over, but she neither stopped me nor tried to sweep up nor order my pieces. She simply let me be there. And she wept with me. She didn't try to make my emotion smaller, or less upsetting. She didn't say, "That’s just the way it goes." She didn't try to fix it. She was empathetic and somehow hugged me back together even though she was over a thousand miles away.
It's finding your "person" or group of people who let you be right where you are and let you talk your way through the "scattered" times. Often they help you know that sometimes being all blown apart helps to reorder everything in even better shape once back together again.
What puts you back together again? A person? A place? A prayer?
In honor of one of my favorite authors (who's birthday happens to be one short week prior to my own...)
I am WAHM.
WAHM I AM.
That WAHM I AM. That WAHM I AM!
I do not like that WAHM I AM!
But do you like how she works for the fam?
That's all I've got... I'm on hold with Yahoo customer service after a long day. Perhaps one of you could add on?
Enjoy.
I know.
I haven't been writing in The Chest much in February. I've been busy learning and producing in other ways. That and we've had waves of illness in my house. I've had these wild ear infections that seem to fade in and out with respiratory stuff and congestion in a peculiar "almost a cold... almost sick enough to keep me down" kind of way. It's been annoying.
I'm also in the process of giving julzoflife.com a makeover. I've enlisted lots of feedback, resources and assistance with this. A fab new look and feel is on it's way... so I have this hesitance to send anyone peeking at the old look.
As to what I've been learning... here's what I came up with:
What did rosey February teach you?
I'm a fan of Robert Middleton's eZine, More Clients. In it, I found an offer for an office organizing system outlined by Elizabeth Hagen. The link above is a free overview. The whole program and how to use it was available for under $30.
I began implementing it at the beginning of February. I started with getting rid of my horizontal filing system (that I so loved!) and purging unnecessary paper. Purge! Whoo Hoo! I let go of so much, paper and otherwise. What a difference it's made! I can focus more easily how that I have that clean slate feeling each day!
The best part about it has been the ability to capture what used to be "fleeting ideas" and tid bits of value that would otherwise go down the drain. (Sometimes quite literally, as many of my best ideas happen in the shower.) Not only are these captured, but the system allows one to put them into action.
If you have paper tigers sabotaging your days... give it a go!
I’ve definitely had years of my life in which I’ve dreaded February. In fact, a girlfriend and I dubbed Valentine’s Day “black (whatever the day of the week it falls on).” So this year it would be Black Thursday.
It began when she received a ridiculous stuffed frog from her then “sweetheart.” We put an end (so we thought) to the overly high expectations of the Hallmark holiday and decided to just totally blast the day with sarcastic gestures.
No red garb. We wore black. (Although I did score a red silk shirt with black hearts which became "the uniform" for the day.) We bought ourselves flowers and candy (or surprised each other with hilarious cards and dumb gifts.) We made fun of people who were gushy in love. And we competed to find the most pathetic attempts at meeting the ever so high expectation of the day.
“Oh mine wins… he called at 11:30 last night, a last ditch effort, I thought, and then chimes in with ‘oh yeah, today’s Valentine’s day… what did you want to do for that again?’”
“No listen to this, I’ve got a better one…” and so it went. Until one year, when my reality was more like a bad psycho thriller movie.
After that, we ignored the day for a while. We eased back into the humor. Since then, she’s traded the frog man for a decent model and I’ve found my own true love and had kids. It’s a softer, gentler day. Filled with more sugar and silliness than sarcasm… more love than expectation.
I’m so glad to see the month gone. HELLO February!
Not that there was anything truly catastrophic this month. The Wisconsin tornadoes missed our house. Nobody broke any bones. There were no outrageous, unexpected house or car expenses. We are clothed, fed, and in general good health and repair. Overall, my family is pretty blessed at the moment.
There were just plain emotional tornadoes. I experienced a few near misses that just made me think (and feel) to the edge of myself. Many decisions were pending. Many options were weighed. Many cobwebs were cleared, both literal and figurative. And even a few lines were drawn. My ability to “brush it off and move on” was challenged on a near daily basis.
Maybe it’s the chill. Maybe it’s the hibernation isolation. January seems to bring a stale eerie feeling somewhere after week two. No matter how great the intention of the “new year,” something creeps in and I’m ecstatic to see “the rosy month of love” show up.
As I was doing a major desk purge, I came across the following quote by Alice Roosevelt Longworth:
I have a simple philosophy. Fill what’s empty. Empty what’s full.
I thought about my 3 year old. Her favorite thing to do at the moment is just that. She will spend hours transferring dried beans and pasta from one container to the next, sometimes spooning, sometimes pouring, but usually singing or narrating. She’ll do the same thing with a paper bag or furry backpack. She fills it up, takes it to another room and empties it out, only to fill it again and take it away. In the bath, same thing; fill the cup and empty the cup. Movement is fascinating.
As I purged my office yesterday, I emptied several containers only to fill them again with more useful or appropriate contents. I realized that much of the treasure inside had become obsolete or otherwise unimportant (so I filled my empty recycling can!) I also found information and ideas on scraps and great little boxes that had been hiding too long and needed new homes so that they would again be treasures for a season.
I found several coins in my purge. Have you ever noticed that even money needs to move around and change hands or it gets a bit powdery and funny looking?
During my “shower thoughts” today, I pondered all the things that spoil when left to sit. I think festering thoughts are the worst. Harsh words harbored. The assumption never checked. Apologies left unsaid. Sometimes, with one action (letting go, seeking truth or finding forgiveness) we can empty and fill at the same time.
What are you ready to empty? What would you like to fill?
Ever have one of those days (weeks?) where every direction you turn it’s something new that isn’t working?
Perhaps it’s a conversation you’re having with someone and you feel like you’re speaking in Whale. Perhaps it’s that you’re trying desperately to be on time and the world around you (the kids, the dog, the car, the traffic…) is in slow motion. Maybe it’s that at work you can see opportunities, but for some reason, no matter how you toil, they aren’t coming to fruition… like you’re standing in that fabulous cage full of blowing money, but they gave you satin gloves for your turn so you can’t grasp a single bill.
This is what I call “pushing rope.” We all do it. I usually don’t recognize I’m doing it until I’m way in it. I look around me and wonder why nothing’s working, despite my grand efforts.
Some things aren’t meant to be pushed.
~Wagons (well, you can, but it takes great skill and concentration to keep it going straight)
~Doors that say “pull”
~Wisk brooms (although toddlers insist on it, don’t they?!)
~And rope.
It’s best to try from the other side with a gentle pull. Sometimes that means learning a new language. Sometimes it means understanding that slowing down for the moment might get you to your destination faster than rushing. Sometimes it means simply being who you are and living your values so that others can respect (and even be attracted to) what’s living in you your life.
What are you pushing? What could use a little pull instead?
The movie starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman came out a week ago. I'm very intrigued, but tend to wait for movies to come to my livingroom where I can curl up in a warm woobie and eat my own popcorn (and hit pause to pee.)
The two men share a hospital room. Nicholson is the owner/operator of hospitals and Freeman is a mechanic. Freeman makes a "Bucket List" of all the things he wanted to do before he kicked the bucket. Throughout the film, the unlikely pair accomplishes adventures together and strikes item after item off the list. It was the end of the trailer that struck me. Freeman asks Nicholson to do one last thing for him. "Find the joy in your life."
Find the joy. The joy that already exists. The joy that is unseen in this moment for whatever reason... find it.
We all have that opportunity, in each minute. No matter how disgusted we are with the current plight of our minute, hour, day, or surroundings, whatever. We can find the joy in our breath, our heartbeat, the way we're greeted by a child, the miracle of the child in the first place.
A wise man recently told me, "when all is lost... when all you have is the alley you're sleeping in, when you look up, there's nothing left to see but beauty."
Joy. Find yours.
I was cleaning my desk last night (WAY in purge mode lately!) Amongst the neatly stacked and organized piles (I’m a visual organizer. If it’s above the desk, it’s active… in a drawer… archive), I found a revised list of house projects.
We’ve owned our early 1900 Victorian for nearly 4 years. I made an extensive “to do” list before we closed, complete with order of priority and supplies needed, many of which were even organized in individual buckets for our initial “project day.” (Some call it a gift, others an illness.)
The list was rather dog-eared when I found it 6 months or so ago. I joyfully checked off what we’d accomplished… wrote a few newly finished projects down and immediately crossed them off (such power in crossing and checking, no?) After neatly re-writing the list, adding new quests and clipping it to paint chips and magazine clippings, it went back into the “active” file tower.
When I re-found it yesterday, I added as many as I crossed off. Momentarily discouraged at how little headway we’d made, I hid the list under my “where to run next” file and went for a cup of caramel coffee. (I’d recommend it!) Then it dawned on this planner/prioritizer. My list isn’t prioritized nor is it scheduled in bite-size pieces. I have ridiculous things left on it like “build a garage” and “grade and reseed the back yard.” Yeah, I’m jumping up and down for that mud bath.
So I’m re-doing my list on the computer this time. I’m putting it on address labels. (More about why later.)
Want help breaking down your elephant? Let me know. julie@julzoflife.com
Maybe not on fire, but certainly smokin'. Mother Nature helped me out this morning by melting most of the snow in the area. Everything is now disgusting shades of brown, dirty white and gray and there's thick fog everywhere.
But I ran today. Outside. 2.5 miles.
It was fabulous and comical. I'm Magoo blind without correction (young readers: read, "can't see hand in front of face") and something is amiss with my left eye, so I've been wearing glasses. It was rather interesting as I ran under raining oak trees and through thick clouds. Then even my own breath was fogging up my glasses, so I started to exhale as if through a piccolo. I overdressed, so half-way through I was flopping a fuzzy glove like a flag in each fist. Donning my "see nothin but me in the fog" yellow vest, I'm sure I was the brightest part of anyone's day, but I couldn't see faces through my own fog.
Didn't matter. I was on fire. All I needed was a smidge of clear glass to see through and to run AWAY. This running in place thing, even if on a slab of moving sidewalk... is for the birds. Once I run away, I have something to run back to. If I choose to run further... I have to contract with myself to get home again. I can't step off the track and call it a day. I am my own ride home. It's empowering. I can because I must.
And home looks so much better once you've been away, doesn't it?
This morning I had a rather pathetic 1.3 mile run. My treadmill and I don’t get along. I want it to read my mind and go faster and slower as I see fit and it doesn’t. I want it to have scenery and it doesn’t. I want it to have a breeze and it doesn’t. I want it to call to me from the basement in an encouraging and friendly way. It doesn’t. This morning, it wouldn’t even turn on at first. We aren’t getting along.
As I ran, I whined. “I miss the outdoors. I miss having a run to look forward to (nothing’s scheduled right now.) I miss keeping a log and being accountable for running certain distances.”
So, taking last year’s flavor of “it’s possible” to heart, I ran (to the store) and got a calendar. I impaled it on the plywood next to the dreaded treadmill. After logging my pathetic 1.3 miles on today’s square, I decided that I want to be running 4 miles 3 days a week by February 1. So, I’m going to need to step it up a bit. Every other run or so, I increase a ¼ mile.
Why Feb 1? It’s a realistic stretch for me. It means I have to get my tuckus out of bed before the kids are up or talk myself into running at night. It means if I don’t do it, I’ll be disappointed, sluggish and even more envious of those people who I see braving the icy streets to run outside. Hmm… perhaps I need to get out the SmartWool beanie and outrageously yellow “Whisper Vest” I got for Christmas and join them.
If you see me, point and giggle. I’ll run faster.
What do you need to “log” or “breakdown” to make possible? Let me know.
Resolve.
To solve again? Do we do this every year? I’ve stopped. Whether I solved 2007 or not, it’s gone. Time to get my hands on the next fun puzzle.
I’ve taken to naming the year instead. Give it a flavor to carry out. 2007 was The Year of “It’s Possible” for me. I figured out childcare without compromising nurturing. I balanced cleanliness with sanity. I figured out meal planning with minimal 4:30 freak-outs.
Instead of being “resolved” to an attitude of “that’s just the way it is now,” I challenged my every whine. The biggest whine I challenged was, “I can’t run. My body isn’t made for it.” I ran a 10K in October. I didn’t die or puke. Finishing with neither event was the goal. Done… in just over an hour, in fact. Not bad for a non-running body.
2008 is “The Year of Julz on Fire.” It started one morning after several really hard mornings. I sprang from my bed put on my running shoes, got the coffee on, made lunches, breakfasts, packed school bags and declared that I was “Mom on Fire!” After explaining to the kids that I did NOT, in fact, require extinguishing (bless fire safety in the schools…), Mom on Fire, Wife on Fire and Julz on Fire are who we have for 2008.
What’s your flavor for 2008?
