When did Christmas become so complicated? I was preparing cards to send Holiday Greetings instead of Christmas Greetings because it is politically correct. God Forbid if I send something as a friendly message which may possibly offend someone. Please forgive the sarcasm but imagine the complications I could create by sending a greeting of Merry Christmas to someone who only celebrates Hanukkah or doesn’t celebrate the season at all, or perhaps they only celebrate Kwanzaa. Then I thought, perhaps it is safer not to send any greeting cards at all this year. However, simply ignoring the tradition of cards and gifts at holiday time creates a completely different set of potential offenses.
In my attempt to decide on a politically appropriate greeting card I looked over the cards I had already received. The cards said things like Happy Holiday Season, Enjoy the Season, and there was one that simply stated To You from Us. Suddenly I felt the Christmas spirit slipping away. Is it possible that in the quest to accommodate the masses, we have allowed the meaning of Christmas holiday to be diminished altogether?
In previous years, I would receive Happy Hanukkah cards from my Jewish friends and, although I am Christian, the card represented a gesture of thoughtfulness from a friend who wanted to send friendly greetings on a day that was important to her and her family. I was not offended at all when I received the card. Yet, today a church can be fined by the city for having a nativity scene on the front lawn simply because one person is offended by the religious significance. Of course this makes no sense to me because a church is the epitome of religious significance.
In truth, no matter what our personal beliefs are, this holiday is about religious worship. It is about God and Jesus and it is a holiday that represents love. There are religious symbols seen everywhere at this time of year but an object is only meaningful if there is an emotional attachment to it. A Nativity scene on a church lawn only has meaning for the Christian faith. To all others it should be viewed only a symbol of the season. The prophet Paul said that words without meaning are only noise. I would add that any object without an emotional attachment is not a symbol, it is only an object.
1 Corinthians 13:
If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, then I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Ironically, the same people who would be offended by the words Merry Christmas on a Christmas card are not objecting to the other symbols of Christian faith. One card that said merely Greetings for the Season had a candy cane with it. Candy canes are designed in the shape of a shepherd’s staff to represent the shepherds guarding sheep on the night that Jesus was born. It’s red and white colors represent both the blood and the purity of Christ. A card that said ‘Holiday Greetings as we enter 2012’ was adorned with a Christmas wreath. Yet, the Christmas wreath is evergreen and designed into a circle to represent the gift eternal life that Jesus brought to us through his birth, death, and resurrection. A few other cards had a Christmas tree. The Christmas tree is also an evergreen tree to represent eternal life and the symbolism of cutting it down only to stand it up again represents the death and resurrection of Jesus. The star we place at the top of the tree represents the star that guided the three Kings to the stable. Many people who want to remove themselves from Christian traditions are known to participate in the act of exchanging gifts. Yet the tradition of giving gifts represents the gifts given to Jesus by the three kings who came to worship him at his birth. Apparently, people are either unaware or they have become selective about what they find offensive which substantiates my statement that if there is no emotional attachment then the objects are simply decoration.
I realized that this is a season to celebrate the birth of Jesus and the very purpose of Jesus coming to earth, dying, and his resurrection is the ultimate sacrifice of Love. Christians should celebrate this as a season of God’s love and if one is not a believer in God, then celebrate love for the sake of love itself and stop complaining. I can’t help but wonder how a season of love could possibly offend anyone. So, I sat down and wrote Christmas cards, not holiday cards, because I am not celebrating a season or a generic holiday. I am celebrating Christmas, a time to worship God and Jesus, a special time of the year to honor a true spirit of love. As I addressed my Christmas cards, that were actually titled Happy Holidays, I signed each of them Merry Christmas with Love.
Merry Christmas With Love.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
The Great Purse Debate.
Women take a lot of good natured teasing about their purses. There are some men who wonder why we need one at all. My friend's husband and I were talking recently about this issue and he was boasting that men travel light. "Men can fit things in a couple of pockets and don't need purses." He said.
I looked down at his cargo pants that had six or seven very large pockets, and all were full. On the wall was his fishing vest with pockets that carried more than my handbag could accommodate. In the den sat a briefcase and a small satchel which he carries to work with him every day. Nodding to the satchel I asked, "Isn't that a murse?" He vehemently denied it and said it was a small satchel for work to carry a few items like tissues, hand sanitizer, checkbook, business cards, ipad etc. His wallet and keys are tucked safely in his pocket.
I nodded my head and silently itemized the contents of my handbag. Wallet, keys, comb, tissues, hand sanitizer, lip gloss, checkbook, phone, business cards and if I had an Ipad it would be in there too.
I just nodded my head and said "Oh." There wasn't anything else to be said and it wasn't the appropriate time for a debate. What is more important is that I know he reads this blog.
I looked down at his cargo pants that had six or seven very large pockets, and all were full. On the wall was his fishing vest with pockets that carried more than my handbag could accommodate. In the den sat a briefcase and a small satchel which he carries to work with him every day. Nodding to the satchel I asked, "Isn't that a murse?" He vehemently denied it and said it was a small satchel for work to carry a few items like tissues, hand sanitizer, checkbook, business cards, ipad etc. His wallet and keys are tucked safely in his pocket.
I nodded my head and silently itemized the contents of my handbag. Wallet, keys, comb, tissues, hand sanitizer, lip gloss, checkbook, phone, business cards and if I had an Ipad it would be in there too.
I just nodded my head and said "Oh." There wasn't anything else to be said and it wasn't the appropriate time for a debate. What is more important is that I know he reads this blog.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Tis The Season To Be....
I have a love/hate relationship with the Christmas holiday season. Although fond memories are evoked by the smell of pine and cinnamon, the holiday stress usually makes me want to skip Christmas and take a tropical vacation.
One of the setbacks I consistently face is trying to make time for errands with a schedule that is already stretched thin. I need some advance preparation but the challenge is that this year’s Christmas itinerary has changed several times already. Of course, this is normal and I anticipate several additional schedule changes will occur before the holiday arrives. Thanks to Murphy’s Law, most of these changes will be on Christmas Eve after the stores are closed.
Tis the season…
People tend to create their own drama during this season. There are the people who constantly whine about the holiday not going as planned and those who are so focused on what they don’t have that they fail to see the blessings in their own lives. What I don’t understand is how a season that is supposed to be about love and giving has become a time of stress. At time I am tempted to tell everyone that I am going away and not to include me in the Christmas plans. A quiet day with a turkey sandwich, hot cocoa, and a good book while my dogs lay at my feet would be enough to satisfy my holiday spirit.
The reality of it is that most of us won’t remember all of the dinner details a few years from now. What we will remember is how that day made us feel. For years I took a great amount of time each Christmas to plan on the perfect table setting, the perfect dinner, the perfect gifts, great activities, and an immaculate home. However, the people at my holiday table probably won't remember a tablecloth that I spent so much time searching for, that perfect turkey, or the cranberry sauce served in hollowed out orange peels with a hint of orange. However, people always remember the feelings, the laughter, the love, and the friendship that is shared on that day.
Christmas will come whether I am ready or not and the tone of the holiday depends on how I respond to it. I prefer some type of schedule so I can be prepared but the success of the holiday is actually about not having a rigid schedule. Sometimes the schedule needs to be renegotiated to meet the needs of the crowd. I have no problem celebrating Christmas on Christmas Eve if it is more convenient. Nor do I complain about serving duck instead of turkey. All I ask is for is just enough advance notice so I can have all of the ingredients handy because the true recipe for Christmas is mixing love and laughter together to create a feeling. The decorations are only a flavor enhancer similar to how salt enhances the flavors in a cake recipe. Tinsel makes things look nice but it isn’t the essence of the holiday itself.
As I grow older I have decided that instead of participating in an act of self induced stress, it is far better to break away from the expectations of the holiday season. Perhaps that will mean celebrating on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas day or serving dinner on disposable plates instead of my best dishes. I prefer to worry more about creating the perfect feeling and worry less about creating the perfect table. Christmas is all about how we respond to the season. This is supposed to be a season that is about love and giving to others. The objective should be to create a day that ends with a feeling that will warm the heart each time we revisit the memories of the day.
One of the setbacks I consistently face is trying to make time for errands with a schedule that is already stretched thin. I need some advance preparation but the challenge is that this year’s Christmas itinerary has changed several times already. Of course, this is normal and I anticipate several additional schedule changes will occur before the holiday arrives. Thanks to Murphy’s Law, most of these changes will be on Christmas Eve after the stores are closed.
Tis the season…
People tend to create their own drama during this season. There are the people who constantly whine about the holiday not going as planned and those who are so focused on what they don’t have that they fail to see the blessings in their own lives. What I don’t understand is how a season that is supposed to be about love and giving has become a time of stress. At time I am tempted to tell everyone that I am going away and not to include me in the Christmas plans. A quiet day with a turkey sandwich, hot cocoa, and a good book while my dogs lay at my feet would be enough to satisfy my holiday spirit.
The reality of it is that most of us won’t remember all of the dinner details a few years from now. What we will remember is how that day made us feel. For years I took a great amount of time each Christmas to plan on the perfect table setting, the perfect dinner, the perfect gifts, great activities, and an immaculate home. However, the people at my holiday table probably won't remember a tablecloth that I spent so much time searching for, that perfect turkey, or the cranberry sauce served in hollowed out orange peels with a hint of orange. However, people always remember the feelings, the laughter, the love, and the friendship that is shared on that day.
Christmas will come whether I am ready or not and the tone of the holiday depends on how I respond to it. I prefer some type of schedule so I can be prepared but the success of the holiday is actually about not having a rigid schedule. Sometimes the schedule needs to be renegotiated to meet the needs of the crowd. I have no problem celebrating Christmas on Christmas Eve if it is more convenient. Nor do I complain about serving duck instead of turkey. All I ask is for is just enough advance notice so I can have all of the ingredients handy because the true recipe for Christmas is mixing love and laughter together to create a feeling. The decorations are only a flavor enhancer similar to how salt enhances the flavors in a cake recipe. Tinsel makes things look nice but it isn’t the essence of the holiday itself.
As I grow older I have decided that instead of participating in an act of self induced stress, it is far better to break away from the expectations of the holiday season. Perhaps that will mean celebrating on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas day or serving dinner on disposable plates instead of my best dishes. I prefer to worry more about creating the perfect feeling and worry less about creating the perfect table. Christmas is all about how we respond to the season. This is supposed to be a season that is about love and giving to others. The objective should be to create a day that ends with a feeling that will warm the heart each time we revisit the memories of the day.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Defining Moments and The M&M Plates
This is the first holiday that my daughter was unable to be with us. She moved to China for a job opportunity a little over a month ago so taking an extended leave to come home for Holiday isn't possible this year. Her absence is difficult for all of us. However, during the last few years I have been gifted with so many amazing moments that my faith has been strengthened over and over again. I know that things are happening just as they should be.
The philosophy of a work/life balance is good in theory but we need to work to live. So it is inevitable that at times one takes precedence over the other. I sometimes become frustrated as I try to maintain the work/life balance and wonder why God is leaving me to struggle like this. Sometimes I simply feel overwhelmed so I pray for guidance and help in maintaining my perspective. I have faith that God will guide us and he will help us respond to life's experiences, direct us in the best direction, and show us in his own way that he is with us.
Holiday time is a difficult time for me. It is a time of emotion and my 'to do list runneth over.' I tend to over commit both at work and at home during this time of year so it isn't unusual to find myself praying for that guidance more often than I normally would. Most recently I was becoming frustrated because the Thanksgiving day schedule changed and then changed again and then again. In the end, the day was to be spent with just me, my son, and my granddaugther with an early morning call to my daughter, a drop in visit from friends, and an outing later in the evening. Since the dinner was just the three of us, I bought nice holiday table settings and was prepared for a nice dinner.
Our Thanksgiving had an early start so we could call my daughter before her Thanksgiving day ended. I made cinnamon rolls, there was a trip to the park, we walked the dogs, and then it was time for lunch. My granddaughter followed me around the kitchen that morning as the smell of cinnamon permeated my home. She was saying "Nana, I want a ninnamon roll," in her two year old voice. She helped my son set the table but instead of my new tableware, she wanted to set the table with her M and M plates. She took my hand and showed me my spot. Then she said "You have blue nanna." In my spot was her favorite blue M and M plate. My good dishes are cobalt blue, my car is blue, and many other things because it is my favorite color. She knows I like blue so my granddaughter shared her favorite blue M and M plate with me. I was moved by such a thoughtful gesture from someone so young. We ignored the table settings I had originally intended to use. For lunch I made Shrimp scampi and salad. Dinner was a roast duck with potatoes and vegetable, followed by a blueberry cobbler. Everything was eaten on the blue M and M plate with a precious little voice telling Nana that she "likes this kind of chicken." Then it was off to Zoo Lights. The only thing that would have made it happier is if my daughter had been with us.
Friday afternoon I read an email from my daughter. She is working in China and churches are restricted there. She has been looking for a place to worship was excited that she finally found a church but the services are held either through a virtual church or in someones home. She said the Bishop is hosting a Thanksgiving dinner. His family was hosting a dinner for those who attend the services. She was so excited about the church, meeting other Americans, and a real Thanksgiving dinner with real American food. I had been praying for her and was happy that she had found a connection to home. Then on Saturday night I received an email saying "Mom, I was talking to the bishop's wife. She is the lady who invited me to dinner and she is from your home town. When I mentioned your name she become very emotional and said you were good friends in School." I immediately wondered who she had met on the other side of the world because the town I grew up in was very small. The email continues, "She even knows Grandma's house and your family." When she finally mentioned her name and asked if I remembered her I was stunned and, become emotional myself. This woman and I were very very close friends but we lost contact when her family moved to a different town. Many of the memories from my youth include her or her family. I think I was 17 or 18 the last time I saw her. It is nothing short of a miracle that she and my daughter connected Chengdu China.
I rarely cry, but I cried when I read my friend's first email. Although I am happy to reconnect, I am also sad to learn that she was struggling with health issues. So I spent some time crying because of the miracle, the reunion with a dear friend, and because of her struggle with cancer. She will be in Arizona in a few weeks. Seeing my dear friend will be the best present I could have. There are times when it is hard to trust, but I know things happen for a reason. How could I not trust when I have just witnessed another one of God's miracles.
Over the last few years I have been blessed with some miracles that are nothing short of spectacular. I know that whatever happens does so because it was meant to happen. God has his own way of reminding me that living isn't about predictability, schedules, work, or perfect dinners. I am so grateful for the life experiences that taught me to open my mind and my heart to the defining moments that can only be described as a miracle. I am grateful for the experiences that taught me to appreciate that small gestures, like a two year old sharing her blue MandM plate and miracles such as reconnecting with a dear friend from my youth ...all because my daughter struck up a conversation with a woman at a church dinner .... while living on the other side of the world.
The philosophy of a work/life balance is good in theory but we need to work to live. So it is inevitable that at times one takes precedence over the other. I sometimes become frustrated as I try to maintain the work/life balance and wonder why God is leaving me to struggle like this. Sometimes I simply feel overwhelmed so I pray for guidance and help in maintaining my perspective. I have faith that God will guide us and he will help us respond to life's experiences, direct us in the best direction, and show us in his own way that he is with us.
Holiday time is a difficult time for me. It is a time of emotion and my 'to do list runneth over.' I tend to over commit both at work and at home during this time of year so it isn't unusual to find myself praying for that guidance more often than I normally would. Most recently I was becoming frustrated because the Thanksgiving day schedule changed and then changed again and then again. In the end, the day was to be spent with just me, my son, and my granddaugther with an early morning call to my daughter, a drop in visit from friends, and an outing later in the evening. Since the dinner was just the three of us, I bought nice holiday table settings and was prepared for a nice dinner.
Our Thanksgiving had an early start so we could call my daughter before her Thanksgiving day ended. I made cinnamon rolls, there was a trip to the park, we walked the dogs, and then it was time for lunch. My granddaughter followed me around the kitchen that morning as the smell of cinnamon permeated my home. She was saying "Nana, I want a ninnamon roll," in her two year old voice. She helped my son set the table but instead of my new tableware, she wanted to set the table with her M and M plates. She took my hand and showed me my spot. Then she said "You have blue nanna." In my spot was her favorite blue M and M plate. My good dishes are cobalt blue, my car is blue, and many other things because it is my favorite color. She knows I like blue so my granddaughter shared her favorite blue M and M plate with me. I was moved by such a thoughtful gesture from someone so young. We ignored the table settings I had originally intended to use. For lunch I made Shrimp scampi and salad. Dinner was a roast duck with potatoes and vegetable, followed by a blueberry cobbler. Everything was eaten on the blue M and M plate with a precious little voice telling Nana that she "likes this kind of chicken." Then it was off to Zoo Lights. The only thing that would have made it happier is if my daughter had been with us.
Friday afternoon I read an email from my daughter. She is working in China and churches are restricted there. She has been looking for a place to worship was excited that she finally found a church but the services are held either through a virtual church or in someones home. She said the Bishop is hosting a Thanksgiving dinner. His family was hosting a dinner for those who attend the services. She was so excited about the church, meeting other Americans, and a real Thanksgiving dinner with real American food. I had been praying for her and was happy that she had found a connection to home. Then on Saturday night I received an email saying "Mom, I was talking to the bishop's wife. She is the lady who invited me to dinner and she is from your home town. When I mentioned your name she become very emotional and said you were good friends in School." I immediately wondered who she had met on the other side of the world because the town I grew up in was very small. The email continues, "She even knows Grandma's house and your family." When she finally mentioned her name and asked if I remembered her I was stunned and, become emotional myself. This woman and I were very very close friends but we lost contact when her family moved to a different town. Many of the memories from my youth include her or her family. I think I was 17 or 18 the last time I saw her. It is nothing short of a miracle that she and my daughter connected Chengdu China.
I rarely cry, but I cried when I read my friend's first email. Although I am happy to reconnect, I am also sad to learn that she was struggling with health issues. So I spent some time crying because of the miracle, the reunion with a dear friend, and because of her struggle with cancer. She will be in Arizona in a few weeks. Seeing my dear friend will be the best present I could have. There are times when it is hard to trust, but I know things happen for a reason. How could I not trust when I have just witnessed another one of God's miracles.
Over the last few years I have been blessed with some miracles that are nothing short of spectacular. I know that whatever happens does so because it was meant to happen. God has his own way of reminding me that living isn't about predictability, schedules, work, or perfect dinners. I am so grateful for the life experiences that taught me to open my mind and my heart to the defining moments that can only be described as a miracle. I am grateful for the experiences that taught me to appreciate that small gestures, like a two year old sharing her blue MandM plate and miracles such as reconnecting with a dear friend from my youth ...all because my daughter struck up a conversation with a woman at a church dinner .... while living on the other side of the world.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
What Matters
It is that time of year again. Thanksgiving is in a few days so I sat down to make my list of things that I need to get done. When I was finished, I realized that I can't accomplish everything on the list and still have time to enjoy the season. So I cancelled a kayak outing to give myself time to get some chores completed. By the end of my weekend all I had done was work and on Sunday night I was regretting the fact that I didn't make time for myself.
My parents taught me to work first and play last. I agree with this line of thinking but when the work is endless, when do we stop? After all, everyone needs time to play, just sit quietly to enjoy the view, or allow time to just work through the feelings that overwhelm us. Yet I cancelled a kayak outing that offers me all of these things so I could allow more time for chores that will only need to be repeated next weekend.
Monday came and I discussed my weekend with a friend of mine. She said "So, you gave up time to relax and recharge so you could do yardwork and dust baseboards?" Later in the day she sent me an article and the first sentence caught my attention. "Why do we wait for a crisis, or for something to happen, before we give ourselves permission to pursue what makes us happy?"
She knows me well. One of my great failings is that I can become so involved in doing that I will forget to just enjoy living. Several times in previous years I have had to take a step back and regroup. I often find myself so busy fulfilling my duties that I forget to take time to enjoy what life is all about.
Sacrificing my kayak outing meant more to me than giving up a pleasurable activity. The outdoors is like my church. When I am away from civilization, I am closest to God. I love the silence, the smell of nature, and I am in awe of everything I see. As I hike up a mountain or paddle my kayak there is no reason not to be true to my own feelings. When I am faced with the silence I cannot run from the truth. I take this time to think and reflect. It is a time when I revisit my memories, feel sad, or just enjoy being happy. When I return to civilization, I feel renewed and I am better able to face the challenges of this world.
A few years ago I was so busy being a parent, breadwinner, taking care of a home, and working that there wasn't much of me left over. As Christmas approached I found a book sitting on my nightstand that I had purchased almost a year before yet I had no time to begin reading it. I made a resolution that during the coming year I would make time to do something that I enjoy daily. The following year, my resolution was to make more time to take care of myself. I have kept both resolutions because I consider them to be baby steps for the recovering workaholic. Two years ago my resolution was to invest in myself so I began shopping for kayaks. I now have my own equipment.
My parents taught me to work first and play last. I agree with this line of thinking but when the work is endless, when do we stop? After all, everyone needs time to play, just sit quietly to enjoy the view, or allow time to just work through the feelings that overwhelm us. Yet I cancelled a kayak outing that offers me all of these things so I could allow more time for chores that will only need to be repeated next weekend.
"Dusting is a good example of the futility of trying to put things right. As soon as you dust, the fact of your next dusting has already been established."
George Carlin
She knows me well. One of my great failings is that I can become so involved in doing that I will forget to just enjoy living. Several times in previous years I have had to take a step back and regroup. I often find myself so busy fulfilling my duties that I forget to take time to enjoy what life is all about.
"When we need to find God, he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature, trees, flowers, grass all grow in silence? See the stars, the moon, and the sun ..see how they move in silence? We need silence to be able to touch souls." Mother Teresa
A few years ago I was so busy being a parent, breadwinner, taking care of a home, and working that there wasn't much of me left over. As Christmas approached I found a book sitting on my nightstand that I had purchased almost a year before yet I had no time to begin reading it. I made a resolution that during the coming year I would make time to do something that I enjoy daily. The following year, my resolution was to make more time to take care of myself. I have kept both resolutions because I consider them to be baby steps for the recovering workaholic. Two years ago my resolution was to invest in myself so I began shopping for kayaks. I now have my own equipment.
"The greatest discovery of all time is that a person can change his future by merely changing his attitude." Oprah Winfrey
I wonder why people need a reason to give themselves permission to enjoy life. There are not many things that frighten me. However, I am terrified that I will grow too old to do the things I enjoy then find myself looking back with regrets for all of the things I wanted to try but didn't because I was too busy dusting my baseboards.
So, I have now reorganized my 'to do' list. My list is shorter because it is no longer about having the perfect house. My priority is now about creating perfect memories. This year's resolution is that within 12 months I will do something I have wanted to do but have put off. I am giving myself permission to be passionate about life. My newest resolution is to pursue my passions one passion at a time.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Fluff and Granola
Years ago one of my sisters labelled me as a "fluff and granola" type of woman. She didn't mean it in a bad way, she was comparing me to some other women who revel in their helpless demeanor and are more concerned with the condition of their manicures than the condition of our country. For myself, my nails are neat but natural. I feel that there is so much more to do in life than waste time in a salon chair.
Most of my time is spent with a group of women who are focused on something other than the beauty rituals. Yesterday, for instance, my friend and I met at a farmers market. We discussed gardening with the vendors, taste tested the honey, bought some seeds for our gardens, and her M and M jacket caught the attention of almost everyone. Afterward we went to breakfast and discussed the graduation party she is planning after the New Year to celebrate the completion of her PHD. Our conversations covered many topics but beauty procedures never came up. It was a truly enjoyable morning.
Later I met another friend for dinner and a wine tasting. The discussion encompassed wine, cheese, food, and events in our personal lives. Discussions over the latest movie star drama or fashion crazes did not enter the conversations all evening.
My friend and I bought raffle tickets for a drawing. As we were looking at the potential prizes lined up on a long table my friend sighs as she sees a beautiful handmade candelabra with candles. She says "That is so beautiful but I already have so many candles." I laugh and say "One can never have too many candles." As I said this I hear the man next to me chuckle. I looked at him so he shrugged and said "Now that is something only a woman would say." I laughed and said "Oh, but it is true! I could take offense to that comment but since you have a NY Giants Jacket on, I guess I'll let that comment slide." He said he was surprised that I was a Giants fan so I told him "Yes I am a Giants fan who happens to like scented candles.... and a good bottle of wine of course." My friend is a Cardinals fan so within minutes we found ourselves enjoying a lively discussion with him and his friends on football, the basketball strike, scented candles, martinis, wines and local restaurants. As we prepared to leave he said " You surprise me because you initially gave a different impression... I thought you would be all about the girl stuff... which is OK... but you aren't ...uh...which is great!" Then he just shugs and says : I mean that as a compliment by the way." I just smiled and said "Thank you." It was a sincere statement and the nicest compliment that I have had in a while.
So I have to ask myself, does this mean I have grown out of my fluff and granola label? Of course it is possible that I have simply evolved into the fluff and granola woman who enjoys her granola but also enjoys a good wine, a scented candle, and nicely manicured nails.
Most of my time is spent with a group of women who are focused on something other than the beauty rituals. Yesterday, for instance, my friend and I met at a farmers market. We discussed gardening with the vendors, taste tested the honey, bought some seeds for our gardens, and her M and M jacket caught the attention of almost everyone. Afterward we went to breakfast and discussed the graduation party she is planning after the New Year to celebrate the completion of her PHD. Our conversations covered many topics but beauty procedures never came up. It was a truly enjoyable morning.
Later I met another friend for dinner and a wine tasting. The discussion encompassed wine, cheese, food, and events in our personal lives. Discussions over the latest movie star drama or fashion crazes did not enter the conversations all evening.
My friend and I bought raffle tickets for a drawing. As we were looking at the potential prizes lined up on a long table my friend sighs as she sees a beautiful handmade candelabra with candles. She says "That is so beautiful but I already have so many candles." I laugh and say "One can never have too many candles." As I said this I hear the man next to me chuckle. I looked at him so he shrugged and said "Now that is something only a woman would say." I laughed and said "Oh, but it is true! I could take offense to that comment but since you have a NY Giants Jacket on, I guess I'll let that comment slide." He said he was surprised that I was a Giants fan so I told him "Yes I am a Giants fan who happens to like scented candles.... and a good bottle of wine of course." My friend is a Cardinals fan so within minutes we found ourselves enjoying a lively discussion with him and his friends on football, the basketball strike, scented candles, martinis, wines and local restaurants. As we prepared to leave he said " You surprise me because you initially gave a different impression... I thought you would be all about the girl stuff... which is OK... but you aren't ...uh...which is great!" Then he just shugs and says : I mean that as a compliment by the way." I just smiled and said "Thank you." It was a sincere statement and the nicest compliment that I have had in a while.
So I have to ask myself, does this mean I have grown out of my fluff and granola label? Of course it is possible that I have simply evolved into the fluff and granola woman who enjoys her granola but also enjoys a good wine, a scented candle, and nicely manicured nails.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
The J Stroke
The most apt analogy of life that I have ever heard is that living is like navigating a river. No two rivers are alike, the shoreline is ever changing, and the currents can offer anything from a relaxing float to an adrenaline pumped ride over rapids.
I think I like this analogy so much because one of my favorite activities is to take my kayak out for a paddle. This activity doesn't appeal to everyone, but I love it. When I try to describe what it is like, I can't. This is an experience that must be experienced to be appreciated. I could not adequately describe the beauty of the Northern Lakes. It is impossible to share the feeling of watching eagles soar over your head while a mother duck and four small ducklings race alongside your kayak. How many people have had the opportunity to navigate a roller coaster of rapids while they paddle the Salt River and, as the water slows to a tepid pace, you look up and see wild horses grazing along the bank. One of my favorites is to paddle deep into the coves at Canyon Lake in the early morning as Blue Heron sit on the shore and mountain goats graze on the cliffs above. While paddling at Lake Pleasant we saw a number of Burro's grazing at the shoreline in one of the coves. The Park Ranger told us that the miners used to use Burros and when the miners left, the Burro's were set free. They have been there ever since and the area where they can be seen is difficult to reach by motorized vehicle. Then there is Patagonia Lake which is known for it's butterflies and, in the spring, the combination of brightly colored flowers and butterflies make it a spectacular place to paddle.
"There is no dishonor in losing the race. There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose". ~ Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
Although this activity is one of the most rewarding things I have ever attempted, I almost didn't try. There were several reasons for my hesitation. First, I had several people telling me all of the reasons why I shouldn't do it, plus I didn't know what to expect, and I was afraid I may not have the ability. Once I made up my mind, it took several months before I actually got into a kayak. However, I am now addicted and have been an avid paddler for several years.
'The true hero is flawed. The true test of a champion is not whether he can triumph, but whether he can overcome obstacles-- preferably of his own making-- in order to triumph. A hero without a flaw is of no interest to an audience or to the universe, which, after all, is based on conflict and opposition, the irresistible force meeting the unmovable object.
The Art of Racing In The Rain Garth Stein
Sometimes I am my own biggest obstacle. The fact that I am flawed is what held me back. I am no longer young, I was inexperienced, and I am alone but I regret that I waited so long to try this. So much time was wasted before I started in this sport and I admit that I was afraid to try because I was afraid of failure. For many of us, when the spirit speaks to us saying we should try something new we will hesitate. Perhaps we don't want to break out of our comfort zone or we question our own ability. As for myself, I am currently faced with a potential new challenge and I am nervous. As a woman of faith I think "Why do I need to choose? What if the risk is too great? What if I fail?" I know God gives us free will but sometimes I wish he would give us a more precise road map too.
However, when I struggle with a decision an answer always comes to me. Yesterday I was on my way to work and I heard someone on the radio talking about white water rafting. He compared the river to life saying that in a white water raft the guide who steers the raft sits in the stern ( at the back of the raft). As the raft travels down the river, the guide uses a stroke that is called the J stroke to correct the direction rather than forcing control by sitting in the front of the raft. He responds to the current just as we respond to the events in our lives.
Life is not easy, it is not predictable, and it often seems unfair. New situations can be frightening but my biggest fear is that I will not explore a new opportunity and end up regretting it. Our mistakes are what make us, what teach us, and what define us. Some mistakes are actually meant to happen and I think of these as a 'success in disguise.' I can't control what is around the next bend. All I can do is respond to the current and enjoy the view. If I overcome my fears to experience a new path, then take some time to look beyond my own horizon I may see even the eagles flying above me.
I think I like this analogy so much because one of my favorite activities is to take my kayak out for a paddle. This activity doesn't appeal to everyone, but I love it. When I try to describe what it is like, I can't. This is an experience that must be experienced to be appreciated. I could not adequately describe the beauty of the Northern Lakes. It is impossible to share the feeling of watching eagles soar over your head while a mother duck and four small ducklings race alongside your kayak. How many people have had the opportunity to navigate a roller coaster of rapids while they paddle the Salt River and, as the water slows to a tepid pace, you look up and see wild horses grazing along the bank. One of my favorites is to paddle deep into the coves at Canyon Lake in the early morning as Blue Heron sit on the shore and mountain goats graze on the cliffs above. While paddling at Lake Pleasant we saw a number of Burro's grazing at the shoreline in one of the coves. The Park Ranger told us that the miners used to use Burros and when the miners left, the Burro's were set free. They have been there ever since and the area where they can be seen is difficult to reach by motorized vehicle. Then there is Patagonia Lake which is known for it's butterflies and, in the spring, the combination of brightly colored flowers and butterflies make it a spectacular place to paddle.
"There is no dishonor in losing the race. There is only dishonor in not racing because you are afraid to lose". ~ Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain
Although this activity is one of the most rewarding things I have ever attempted, I almost didn't try. There were several reasons for my hesitation. First, I had several people telling me all of the reasons why I shouldn't do it, plus I didn't know what to expect, and I was afraid I may not have the ability. Once I made up my mind, it took several months before I actually got into a kayak. However, I am now addicted and have been an avid paddler for several years.
'The true hero is flawed. The true test of a champion is not whether he can triumph, but whether he can overcome obstacles-- preferably of his own making-- in order to triumph. A hero without a flaw is of no interest to an audience or to the universe, which, after all, is based on conflict and opposition, the irresistible force meeting the unmovable object.
The Art of Racing In The Rain Garth Stein
Sometimes I am my own biggest obstacle. The fact that I am flawed is what held me back. I am no longer young, I was inexperienced, and I am alone but I regret that I waited so long to try this. So much time was wasted before I started in this sport and I admit that I was afraid to try because I was afraid of failure. For many of us, when the spirit speaks to us saying we should try something new we will hesitate. Perhaps we don't want to break out of our comfort zone or we question our own ability. As for myself, I am currently faced with a potential new challenge and I am nervous. As a woman of faith I think "Why do I need to choose? What if the risk is too great? What if I fail?" I know God gives us free will but sometimes I wish he would give us a more precise road map too.
However, when I struggle with a decision an answer always comes to me. Yesterday I was on my way to work and I heard someone on the radio talking about white water rafting. He compared the river to life saying that in a white water raft the guide who steers the raft sits in the stern ( at the back of the raft). As the raft travels down the river, the guide uses a stroke that is called the J stroke to correct the direction rather than forcing control by sitting in the front of the raft. He responds to the current just as we respond to the events in our lives.
Life is not easy, it is not predictable, and it often seems unfair. New situations can be frightening but my biggest fear is that I will not explore a new opportunity and end up regretting it. Our mistakes are what make us, what teach us, and what define us. Some mistakes are actually meant to happen and I think of these as a 'success in disguise.' I can't control what is around the next bend. All I can do is respond to the current and enjoy the view. If I overcome my fears to experience a new path, then take some time to look beyond my own horizon I may see even the eagles flying above me.
Two men looked out from prison bars
One saw mud, the other saw the stars.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Life Is Not A Spectator Sport
"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."
Edmund Burke
I work for a large bank and recently we received an email advising all employees how to conduct themselves around the Wall Street Protesters since they are rumoured to start a protest in our area soon. One of my friends got very upset and was concerned over safety. I reminded her that all of the protests have been peaceful protests. It is merely groups of people who have united across the country to raise awareness of the situation in the world today. However, this didn't calm my friend down. "They are protesting outside of banks and they should be stopped." She said.
"They that give up liberty to obtain temporary safety deserves neither liberty nor safety."
Benjamin Franklin
I feel strong about certain things and my freedoms, which are guaranteed in the Constitution of the Unites States of America, are on the top of this list. Living in another country taught me to appreciate what others sometimes take for granted. Unfortunately, I can also be blunt and outspoken so before I could stop myself I hear myself saying, "What are you saying? As Americans, we have the right to peaceful assembly and we have the right to free speech. These people are exercising these rights and no one should have the right to prevent them from expressing their views as long as it is a peaceful protest. In fact, if anyone were to try to stop them I would be tempted to go outside and join them. When my civil liberties are threatened, I have no intention of quietly surrendering. Some things are worth fighting for."
"You have enemies? Good! That means you stood up for something at some time during your life."
Winston Churchill
My friend was speechless for a minute and then she rambled on about what it is costing the cities for the extra security. I replied "Good. That means someone is getting overtime pay but you clearly only heard one side. Think of this, each protester has to eat and drink. Most of these folks will purchase food, snacks, and beverages which means that the local business increase their sales plus the sales tax from these purchases goes back into the city to help pay for the cost of the security. To be honest, I am not happy with the state of this nation either. Although I am not protesting publicly, my opinion is not going to be defined by some reporter or politician who wants the protesters to look like they are wrong simply because their statements make the bankers, investors, and politicians uncomfortable." She became silent after that and we began to talk of other things.
"An appeaser is one who will feed a crocodile hoping it will eat him last."
Winston Churchill
I had some concerns over voicing my views in a public blog and almost decided not to write this. Then it occurred to me that people who I love have put their lives on the line to protect our freedom of speech so the day that I am unable to freely voice an opinion, whether in writing or verbally, is the day that we are no longer free. There is definitely a sense of unrest in our country today. America is strong because of it's people but the people of this country had become apathetic and indifferent. We have become a spoiled nation who can name the contestants on dancing with the stars but cannot name the people who are influential in passing our laws. As a nation we focused on our entertainment and creature comforts as our jobs were outsourced , factories were shut down, laws were passed which inhibit our rights to survive off of the land which makes us dependent rather than independent, our food became genetically modified causing an increase in the number of cancer deaths yet medical care remains expensive and inadequate, unemployment rates rise along with the cost of living so the numbers of homeless and hungry people increase and Americans missed the warning signs because their eyes were focused on their telvision sets and the warnings could not be heard over the music coming from their ipods.
"...eternal vigilance by the people is the price of liberty, and that you must pay the price if you wish to secure the blessing. It behooves you, therefore, to be watchful in your States as well as in the Federal Government." Andrew Jackson
We have become an apathetic nation. Now that people are not only waking up but are also speaking up authorities are asking "How dare you?" My response is "We dare because this governmment compromised the people of this country while our attention was elsewhere. We dare because we are free to do so."
Wake up America.
"If a nation values anything more than freedom, it will lose its freedom; and the irony of it is that if it is comfort or money that it values more, it will lose that too." -- Somerset Maugham
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Perspectives Rise From Experience
Places, sights, flavors, sounds, and smells that remind us of a specific time in our life is what I refer to as a memory trigger. Two places that trigger strong emotional responses with me are hospitals and airports. Some of my most traumatic life moments have happened in one or the other. Hospitals remind me of the birth of my children. Airports remind me of reuniting with loved ones and of saying goodbye.
My most recent memory trigger surfaced during a visit to the airport. At the age of 21, I boarded a plane to go to Asia and join my husband. I remember my father walked me as far as he could. As I was boarding, I turned and saw dad's hunched shoulders walking away and I felt my breath leave as I realized that it could be years, perhaps many many years, before I would see him again. As the plane took off and the Superstition Mountains fell away I began to silently sob knowing that I was leaving everything I love behind for the unknown.
After 25 hours of travel, I arrived in Kai Tak Airport and found myself breathing air that was heavy with humidity. There is a smell in Hong Kong that I have not found anywhere else. It is combination of fish, ginger,herbs, humanity, and the sea. There was no bare earth anywhere, it was always crowded. The language was foreign, the music was different, I couldn't understand what was on TV, the food was different, but what I found most difficult is that the city was everywhere. Even the parks were only cement playgrounds with planters boarding the walking areas. This was a city that found beauty in man made things but I also found a sense of kindness and compassion there that I often see lacking in American culture.
To a small town girl who was coming from Phoenix, Hong Kong felt musty and dirty but it is a city like no other. Things I had taken for granted were luxuries there. We had a stackable washer and drier plus a small water heater which took 20 minutes to heat up before we could shower. I soon realized how fortunate I was. We were the only ones in the building who had them. Each day as I walked down the hall to the stairs, I would see people washing their clothes with a bucket of water and a washboard.
Our flat was on the 14th floor but the elevator only went to the 12th floor. I had to walk up a couple of flights of stairs and down a long narrow hallway to reach our door. This journey usually included a baby, a stroller, groceries and whatever I had with me. People shop every day and get their food from open makets. There are no grocery stores which made it necessary to shop daily. This meant that carrying the baby and groceries up and down flights of stairs was a daily excursion. Everything was fresh which means that shopping for food meant purchasing and killing your dinner, unless you paid someone to kill and clean it for you. In spite of this, I enjoyed shopping at the open market because there was an amazing array of vegetables and fruits that were new to me. Due to a water shortage, we only had water a few hours a day. I had to learn to store water, use it sparingly, and then boil it before we could drink it. In spite of the differences, I adapted and learned to open my mind so I could better understand the culture. As a result, people seemed to accept me which made this a wonderful experience. Eventually what was foreign to me become familiar and, when I eventually returned to America, I went through culture shock all over again.
My mother in law found a small stand that carried catsup. It was the only American condiment sold our neighborhood. I was soon known as the American blond girl who shaved her legs and ate lots of catsup. People who could speak a few words of English would stop me to ask why I had no hair on my legs or ask to touch my blond hair. One day a young man followed me as I shopped. It made me nervous until I realized he only wanted to talk to me about our culture. He was leaving to attend college in America and was curious. Finally he asked me "Is catsup the American Soy Sauce?" I laughed and said yes.
Recently, I found an old journal and vividly remember writing one particular entry. It was very early in the morning and I could not sleep. I was looking out the window watching the city and missing home. In the far distance, I could see the shimmer of the ocean between two tall buildings.
I grew up in the country so the transition to life in Asia wasn't as traumatic as it would be for some. Throughout my life, I did a lot of camping and my dad would hunt for food. I had no illusions on where our meat comes from and my parents taught us to be self sufficient . Since I love fresh vegetables, shopping in the open market was a pleasure. Later, I learned that our food experiences can be just as unappetizing for those who have never experienced a grocery store as shopping for meat that was still alive was to me. The first time my ex husband saw hamburger meat, ground up and wrapped in plastic, he got sick. He had never seen meat ground and packaged before. In Asia all meat was sold in an open market. We would choose a live animal to kill or meat from a freshly butchered carcass. Is one more disgusting than the other? I believe that one's perspective rises from one's life experience.
Living in Asia taught me not to take anything for granted. I learned to open my mind to a different way of living. In doing so, I learned that instead of passing judgment it is better to open my mind and my heart. A person who lives life a little differently isn't necessarily wrong, they are just different. If we stop judging and try opening both our minds and our hearts instead, we end up expanding our own world. As for myself, I learned that when I am exposed to a new and unfamiliar life event I do not want to be hard and unbending, nor do I want to mold myself into meekly accepting whatever is before me. Instead, I want to open my mind enough to see things from a different perspective without losing the sense of self that defines me.
My most recent memory trigger surfaced during a visit to the airport. At the age of 21, I boarded a plane to go to Asia and join my husband. I remember my father walked me as far as he could. As I was boarding, I turned and saw dad's hunched shoulders walking away and I felt my breath leave as I realized that it could be years, perhaps many many years, before I would see him again. As the plane took off and the Superstition Mountains fell away I began to silently sob knowing that I was leaving everything I love behind for the unknown.
After 25 hours of travel, I arrived in Kai Tak Airport and found myself breathing air that was heavy with humidity. There is a smell in Hong Kong that I have not found anywhere else. It is combination of fish, ginger,herbs, humanity, and the sea. There was no bare earth anywhere, it was always crowded. The language was foreign, the music was different, I couldn't understand what was on TV, the food was different, but what I found most difficult is that the city was everywhere. Even the parks were only cement playgrounds with planters boarding the walking areas. This was a city that found beauty in man made things but I also found a sense of kindness and compassion there that I often see lacking in American culture.
To a small town girl who was coming from Phoenix, Hong Kong felt musty and dirty but it is a city like no other. Things I had taken for granted were luxuries there. We had a stackable washer and drier plus a small water heater which took 20 minutes to heat up before we could shower. I soon realized how fortunate I was. We were the only ones in the building who had them. Each day as I walked down the hall to the stairs, I would see people washing their clothes with a bucket of water and a washboard.
Our flat was on the 14th floor but the elevator only went to the 12th floor. I had to walk up a couple of flights of stairs and down a long narrow hallway to reach our door. This journey usually included a baby, a stroller, groceries and whatever I had with me. People shop every day and get their food from open makets. There are no grocery stores which made it necessary to shop daily. This meant that carrying the baby and groceries up and down flights of stairs was a daily excursion. Everything was fresh which means that shopping for food meant purchasing and killing your dinner, unless you paid someone to kill and clean it for you. In spite of this, I enjoyed shopping at the open market because there was an amazing array of vegetables and fruits that were new to me. Due to a water shortage, we only had water a few hours a day. I had to learn to store water, use it sparingly, and then boil it before we could drink it. In spite of the differences, I adapted and learned to open my mind so I could better understand the culture. As a result, people seemed to accept me which made this a wonderful experience. Eventually what was foreign to me become familiar and, when I eventually returned to America, I went through culture shock all over again.
My mother in law found a small stand that carried catsup. It was the only American condiment sold our neighborhood. I was soon known as the American blond girl who shaved her legs and ate lots of catsup. People who could speak a few words of English would stop me to ask why I had no hair on my legs or ask to touch my blond hair. One day a young man followed me as I shopped. It made me nervous until I realized he only wanted to talk to me about our culture. He was leaving to attend college in America and was curious. Finally he asked me "Is catsup the American Soy Sauce?" I laughed and said yes.
Recently, I found an old journal and vividly remember writing one particular entry. It was very early in the morning and I could not sleep. I was looking out the window watching the city and missing home. In the far distance, I could see the shimmer of the ocean between two tall buildings.
November 1981:
"There are things I love about this place and things that I hate. Aside from my family, I miss the open spaces , the spectacular sunsets, the sunrises on an Arizona morning, the smell of the desert after a rain, flowers on cactus, and people who are not obsessed with designer handbags or superstitions that make no sense. If I close my eyes, I can imagine walking on something other than concrete in an area where the only sound is a bird or the wind whistling in the trees. I miss the outdoors, my friends, my family, but I especially miss the simple things like the smell of the desert after a rainstorm or a sunset so spectacular it defies description. It is 5am here but at home they are getting ready for bed. Sometimes I ache to see an Arizona sunset and other times I wish I could share the treasures of this spectacular place with the people at home. This morning I am up early watching the sun make a pathetic attempt to provide a sunrise as it rises over a horizon that consists primarily of concrete and skyscrapers. Yet, as I watch my baby sleep and hear the soft snore of my husband, I know I have blessings here too."
I grew up in the country so the transition to life in Asia wasn't as traumatic as it would be for some. Throughout my life, I did a lot of camping and my dad would hunt for food. I had no illusions on where our meat comes from and my parents taught us to be self sufficient . Since I love fresh vegetables, shopping in the open market was a pleasure. Later, I learned that our food experiences can be just as unappetizing for those who have never experienced a grocery store as shopping for meat that was still alive was to me. The first time my ex husband saw hamburger meat, ground up and wrapped in plastic, he got sick. He had never seen meat ground and packaged before. In Asia all meat was sold in an open market. We would choose a live animal to kill or meat from a freshly butchered carcass. Is one more disgusting than the other? I believe that one's perspective rises from one's life experience.
Living in Asia taught me not to take anything for granted. I learned to open my mind to a different way of living. In doing so, I learned that instead of passing judgment it is better to open my mind and my heart. A person who lives life a little differently isn't necessarily wrong, they are just different. If we stop judging and try opening both our minds and our hearts instead, we end up expanding our own world. As for myself, I learned that when I am exposed to a new and unfamiliar life event I do not want to be hard and unbending, nor do I want to mold myself into meekly accepting whatever is before me. Instead, I want to open my mind enough to see things from a different perspective without losing the sense of self that defines me.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Setbacks
My friend shared this story and I found it so inspiring I wanted to share.
The Key to Setbacks: The Carrot, the Egg and the Coffee Bean
A young woman told her mother how difficult things were for her. She had been experiencing many obstacles in her life and told her mother that she did not know how she was going to make it and that she felt like giving up.
Her mother took her to the kitchen and filled three pots with water, set them on the stove and turned the burners on high. Soon the water started boiling. In the first pot, she placed carrots; in the second pot, she put eggs; and in the third pot, she placed coffee beans. She let them sit and boil.
After twenty minutes, she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them on a plate. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a mug.
Turning to her daughter, she asked, "What do you see?"
"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," her daughter replied.
Her mother handed her some carrots. They were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed that the egg was now hard boiled. Then the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. Then the daughter asked, "What does all of this mean?"
Her mother said that each of the three items had faced the same adversity -- boiling water. But each reacted differently.
"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?"
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 an open heart, but changes with the heat? Did I once have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a break-up, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?
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?
Author Unknown.
The Key to Setbacks: The Carrot, the Egg and the Coffee Bean
A young woman told her mother how difficult things were for her. She had been experiencing many obstacles in her life and told her mother that she did not know how she was going to make it and that she felt like giving up.
Her mother took her to the kitchen and filled three pots with water, set them on the stove and turned the burners on high. Soon the water started boiling. In the first pot, she placed carrots; in the second pot, she put eggs; and in the third pot, she placed coffee beans. She let them sit and boil.
After twenty minutes, she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them on a plate. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a mug.
Turning to her daughter, she asked, "What do you see?"
"Carrots, eggs, and coffee," her daughter replied.
Her mother handed her some carrots. They were soft. The mother then asked the daughter to take an egg and break it. After pulling off the shell, she observed that the egg was now hard boiled. Then the mother asked the daughter to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled as she tasted its rich aroma. Then the daughter asked, "What does all of this mean?"
Her mother said that each of the three items had faced the same adversity -- boiling water. But each reacted differently.
"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?"
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 an open heart, but changes with the heat? Did I once have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a break-up, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?
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?
Author Unknown.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
In Memory Of My Two Grandmothers
My two grandmothers are on my mind today. I have no specific reason for them to be on my mind at this particular time, but their presence has been hovering over me like a cloud. I didn't know my grandfathers. My paternal grandfather died when my father was young and my maternal grandfather passed away when I was very small. I only have have a few fuzzy memories of him.
Both of my grandmothers were strong women but they were very different people. My paternal grandmother did whatever job she had to in order to keep her family fed after grandpa passed. I learned to enjoy cooking and how to mend clothes from her. Grandma was strong, smart, creative, and her family was everything to her. I loved to hear her tell me about how she and my grandfather met. He was a salesman and she was a school teacher in a small school house. She was living in the South West and he lived on the East Coast but he would make a detour with each business trip so he could court her. At the end of her day, as she dismissed her students, she would see him sitting on a horse at the top of the hill waiting for her. She told me the story several times and each time I found it to be very romantic. Grandma said he was the love of her life and she never remarried after he passed. From Grandma G I learned to value the simple things in life, appreciate tradition, love history, value the spiritual side, and that the people in our life is what is most important.
My maternal grandmother was a different person altogether but I thought she was amazing. Grandmother was a very intelligent woman who was full of energy. She had a career as a nurse, loved to do needlework, paint, and cook. Grandma taught me not to be a slave to a recipe. When she was 70 she taught me to dance. I loved her telling on how she met my grandfather. Grandpa was in the Navy and one day, while visiting a friend at the hospital, he saw grandma. He went out of his way to try and catch her attentions but she would just brush him off. Consistent flirting and invitations to go out where ignored or declined quite abruptly. As weeks passed, she continued to turn him down and, being grandma, I imagine she left no room for negotiation. He was persistent. Grandma told me that grandfather "had a reputation as a ladies man" and he was a terrible flirt. She laughingly told me once that "He was so full of himself.'" However, grandfather persisted and each day when she got off duty she would walk out of the hospital to find him waiting for her at the base of the hospital steps so he could walk her to her bus. After several weeks she finally agreed to a group outing, but it was to include her friends. I asked her once what changed her mind. She smiled and said "He was so polite and tried so hard to impress me that I took a second look and realized he really was a good man. When I realized how much I enjoyed his company he just started to grow on me." From Grandma H I learned not to get stuck in a comfort zone and don't judge others because no one is perfect, don't take myself too seriously but value who I am, always look for ways to improve myself, never stop learning, and the most important lesson I learned from her is that actions speak louder than words.
From each woman I gained two different life perspectives. I feel so sorry for children caught up in family disputes. The kids who are segregated from one side of their family lose the opportunity to gain that broader perspective and never know part of their heritage. I am grateful for both of my grandmothers and feel blessed because of their differences. Each gave me wonderful memories. Growing up, I viewed one as stability and the other as adventure but the commonality is that they were strong women with good values. More important, I knew that either of them would each be there for me if I needed them.
It is unfortunate that some people can't accept any view except their own. If someone lives their life differently from us, that doesn't necessarily make it bad. It only makes it different. Yet there are those who insist that their way is the only way.
They say life is art. When I hear this I think of how a canvas painting is comprised of a variety of colors and shapes. Some paintings appear to change their view depending on the light or the viewing angle, almost as though they were two dimensional. I think that people who refuse to open their eyes and their hearts to view the world outside of their own existence live their lives in a one dimensional reality.
Grandma G was more of a black and white thinker but when grandpa died in era when women were not welcomed in the work force. Her outlook and her strength is why she and her children survived. Grandma H used to tell me the story of the blind men and the elephant. It was a favorite that I never tired of hearing but, as an adult, I recognize it came with a lesson I was meant to learn:
Both of my grandmothers were strong women but they were very different people. My paternal grandmother did whatever job she had to in order to keep her family fed after grandpa passed. I learned to enjoy cooking and how to mend clothes from her. Grandma was strong, smart, creative, and her family was everything to her. I loved to hear her tell me about how she and my grandfather met. He was a salesman and she was a school teacher in a small school house. She was living in the South West and he lived on the East Coast but he would make a detour with each business trip so he could court her. At the end of her day, as she dismissed her students, she would see him sitting on a horse at the top of the hill waiting for her. She told me the story several times and each time I found it to be very romantic. Grandma said he was the love of her life and she never remarried after he passed. From Grandma G I learned to value the simple things in life, appreciate tradition, love history, value the spiritual side, and that the people in our life is what is most important.
My maternal grandmother was a different person altogether but I thought she was amazing. Grandmother was a very intelligent woman who was full of energy. She had a career as a nurse, loved to do needlework, paint, and cook. Grandma taught me not to be a slave to a recipe. When she was 70 she taught me to dance. I loved her telling on how she met my grandfather. Grandpa was in the Navy and one day, while visiting a friend at the hospital, he saw grandma. He went out of his way to try and catch her attentions but she would just brush him off. Consistent flirting and invitations to go out where ignored or declined quite abruptly. As weeks passed, she continued to turn him down and, being grandma, I imagine she left no room for negotiation. He was persistent. Grandma told me that grandfather "had a reputation as a ladies man" and he was a terrible flirt. She laughingly told me once that "He was so full of himself.'" However, grandfather persisted and each day when she got off duty she would walk out of the hospital to find him waiting for her at the base of the hospital steps so he could walk her to her bus. After several weeks she finally agreed to a group outing, but it was to include her friends. I asked her once what changed her mind. She smiled and said "He was so polite and tried so hard to impress me that I took a second look and realized he really was a good man. When I realized how much I enjoyed his company he just started to grow on me." From Grandma H I learned not to get stuck in a comfort zone and don't judge others because no one is perfect, don't take myself too seriously but value who I am, always look for ways to improve myself, never stop learning, and the most important lesson I learned from her is that actions speak louder than words.
From each woman I gained two different life perspectives. I feel so sorry for children caught up in family disputes. The kids who are segregated from one side of their family lose the opportunity to gain that broader perspective and never know part of their heritage. I am grateful for both of my grandmothers and feel blessed because of their differences. Each gave me wonderful memories. Growing up, I viewed one as stability and the other as adventure but the commonality is that they were strong women with good values. More important, I knew that either of them would each be there for me if I needed them.
It is unfortunate that some people can't accept any view except their own. If someone lives their life differently from us, that doesn't necessarily make it bad. It only makes it different. Yet there are those who insist that their way is the only way.
They say life is art. When I hear this I think of how a canvas painting is comprised of a variety of colors and shapes. Some paintings appear to change their view depending on the light or the viewing angle, almost as though they were two dimensional. I think that people who refuse to open their eyes and their hearts to view the world outside of their own existence live their lives in a one dimensional reality.
Grandma G was more of a black and white thinker but when grandpa died in era when women were not welcomed in the work force. Her outlook and her strength is why she and her children survived. Grandma H used to tell me the story of the blind men and the elephant. It was a favorite that I never tired of hearing but, as an adult, I recognize it came with a lesson I was meant to learn:
The Blind Men and The Elephant.
A king has the blind men brought to the palace, and they are asked to describe
an elephant. Using their hands the blind men felt the elephant. When each blind man had felt a part of the elephant, the king went to them and said to each: 'Well, blind man, describe the elephant to me."
Each man gives a different description.One man felt the head says the elephant is like a pot. Another who felt the leg asserts that an elephant is like a tree. Yet another who felt the trunk asserted that an elephant is like a snake and the descriptions continued with each blind man describing the elephant based on what part of the elephant's body he touched.
The men cannot agree with one another and were arguing heatedly over the question of whose description is accurate. The King said "You are all correct and you are all wrong. Each of you only see one part of the elephant yet you rant in complete ignorance because one cannot describe the whole until one has learned the total of it's parts
These blind men are like some people who are blind and ignorant to any views except their own. Due to their ignorance they argue and fight because, instead of truly seeing the world before them, each insisted on maintaining his own reality.
Two very different, but incredible, women who I am blessed to call Grandma taught me to step back and understand that life is like abstract art. It doesn't doesn't care about coloring inside of the lines. Thank you to my grandmothers and to my parents who taught me that common interests may get the conversation started but it is our differences that make life interesting.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
In Honor of Friends
Growing up on a farm we learn to accept that death is inevitable, it is the suffering that should be unnecessary. This is why I think that Cancer is such an awful disease. It leaves one with out dignity, no guarantee of survival, and it causes so much suffering for both the victim and their families. Cancer took someone from us recently. She was too young to die and it is painful to watch her two small children lose their mother.
My friends and I make a point of getting together on a regular basis. Sometimes we do something fun and sometimes it is just a coffee date at someones house. It isn't the activity that counts, it is the company we keep. In July our gathering was about hats. One of the girls had a hat party because someone we knew was battling cancer. So in July everyone came to the girls outing with a hat or a scarf for our friend to wear when she when she loses her hair. It was a symbol of support so she can look at those hats and remember how much we care about her.
August was a difficult month for scheduling an outing. School was starting, summer was ending, some were taking vacations, I had taken on a new project at work which meant long hours in addition to a schedule that was already full so no outing was scheduled. Around the 20th of August one of the girls we knew took a turn for the worst and went in the hospital. On the 25th her family said Hospice was called in. They were only giving her only few days to live. Cell phones and email were on fire with friends providing updates and trying to schedule help as needed. The last Friday of August she passed away.
On Monday morning one of the girls sent out an email that simply said "We need to get together." The following night, on August 30, an amazing thing happened. Within twenty four hours, we were all sitting at a restaurant table enjoying appetizers and the friendship we all share. It was a somber night but the companionship was like a salve on an open wound.
"A wake is a time of sadness, but also a time to bond with family, to remember the deceased fondly, and to take comfort in the company of loved ones. Traditional Celtic wakes were overnight affairs, but this custom is increasingly less common" Wickipedia
As we all prepared to leave, one of the ladies said " We needed this" We were a group of middle aged women in business attire that stood in the parking lot hugging each other. We did need that time together and immediately began talking about the next outing.
Treasure your family and friends. Life is short so make time for those who are important because death is a harsh reminder that life offers us no guarantees.
My friends and I make a point of getting together on a regular basis. Sometimes we do something fun and sometimes it is just a coffee date at someones house. It isn't the activity that counts, it is the company we keep. In July our gathering was about hats. One of the girls had a hat party because someone we knew was battling cancer. So in July everyone came to the girls outing with a hat or a scarf for our friend to wear when she when she loses her hair. It was a symbol of support so she can look at those hats and remember how much we care about her.
August was a difficult month for scheduling an outing. School was starting, summer was ending, some were taking vacations, I had taken on a new project at work which meant long hours in addition to a schedule that was already full so no outing was scheduled. Around the 20th of August one of the girls we knew took a turn for the worst and went in the hospital. On the 25th her family said Hospice was called in. They were only giving her only few days to live. Cell phones and email were on fire with friends providing updates and trying to schedule help as needed. The last Friday of August she passed away.
On Monday morning one of the girls sent out an email that simply said "We need to get together." The following night, on August 30, an amazing thing happened. Within twenty four hours, we were all sitting at a restaurant table enjoying appetizers and the friendship we all share. It was a somber night but the companionship was like a salve on an open wound.
"A wake is a time of sadness, but also a time to bond with family, to remember the deceased fondly, and to take comfort in the company of loved ones. Traditional Celtic wakes were overnight affairs, but this custom is increasingly less common" Wickipedia
As we all prepared to leave, one of the ladies said " We needed this" We were a group of middle aged women in business attire that stood in the parking lot hugging each other. We did need that time together and immediately began talking about the next outing.
Treasure your family and friends. Life is short so make time for those who are important because death is a harsh reminder that life offers us no guarantees.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
I Am The Round Peg
We live in a world that wants us to fit in a square hole, and if we are a round peg, the world expects us to change our shape. Some would have us believe that life is a ‘one size fits all’ event. Recently I went to a management seminar with a theme that stated we should focus on becoming better at what we do well because trying things that do not come naturally is a waste of our time. The philosophy of this particular psychologist stated that we should stay in our comfort zone and stop trying to be something we were never intended to be. It took every ounce of me not to walk out of that seminar and the nonsense it was teaching.
Very few people know that I can sing. When I was young, I was singled out to do solos in church and a school choral group. Both of my parents can sing and my mother has an amazing voice. Mom loved opera and, recognizing that I had perfect pitch, she signed me up for vocal lessons. I felt mediocre because I struggled to hit high notes, I couldn’t project efficiently, and eventually I didn’t enjoy singing at all. Soon I began to fake many sore throats so I could escape the obligation to perform and by the time I was 15 I refused to participate at all. I had reached a point where I felt like a failure and didn’t even like the sound of my own voice. I have refused to sing anything in public since that time.
A few years ago, some friends and I were singing to a Jackson Brown album when someone commented on my voice. I told them I am not very good and I explained why I hate singing in front of others. They replied, “You have a wonderful voice. It sounds like you can sing but you just didn’t like the operatic style people were trying to force you to sing.” At that moment I realized that I had convinced myself that I lacked talent because I wasn't performing by someone else's standards.
I do not go to church every week but I do have a strong faith in God and I do believe that God has a plan for each of us. Like children, we need to fail because we learn from mistakes. What I find amazing is that God creates miracles from our failures. In the bible, some of the most prominent figures came from the most unlikely people. I believe that God sometimes needs us to learn to be our own unique self, develop our own talents, and risk failure before we can find success.
The world tells us that we should conform. We are told that to be accepted we need to change who we are. Yet, most successful people have challenged this line of thinking. Many of the greatest men and women in history were rebels. Eleanor Roosevelt, one of my heroes, is quoted as saying “Well behaved women never make history.”
Ryan Blair, a former gang member who did jail time, only has a 9th grade education yet is the CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation. In the article ‘Gang Member to CEO’ he is quoted as saying:
“As a product of Los Angeles's public school system, in a state with the highest dropout rate in the nation (about 20 percent), I can tell you from personal experience that some of our brightest minds are being misidentified because of a one-size-fits-all learning environment. Because I had ADD and dyslexia I never got past the 9th grade. I recall sitting with a career counselor in continuation high school, being told that I didn't have the intellect or aptitude to become a doctor or a lawyer. They suggested a trade school, construction, something where I'd be working with my hands.
The irony is that today I employ plenty of doctors and lawyers. Would you rather be a doctor or a lawyer, or a guy who writes a check to doctors and lawyers? As an entrepreneur, having a college degree or getting classroom training won't hurt your chances for starting a successful business, but it's ultimately not necessary. In Malcolm Gladwell's book "Outliers," he makes a point that it takes approximately 10,000 hours to master a skill set at a professional level. That means experience, over traditional education”.
The truth is that some of the most talented people in history were told they had no talent. Society told them not to try but they refused to conform and refused to stop pursuing their passions. An article I have saved for years by Ann Landers titled “Failure Can Provide Golden Lesson” is taped to my refrigerator. In the article it points out that:
Last week I came home and my two year old granddaughter was running around with no shirt on. I both sympathized with my son and laughed at the memory it evoked. When I was very young, I saw my brother working outside with no shirt and decided that on a hot summer day no shirt made more sense than the scratchy shirt I was wearing. My mother saw me running around shirtless and made me put my shirt on while talking to me about acting like a lady. As I grew up, I was often discouraged from participating in many activities as I heard the term “it isn’t ladylike” used as a reason. As I grew I resented the fact that the boys got to have all the fun. However, as an adult, my activities are not gender defined. I enjoy trying new things and I am not afraid of getting my hand dirty nor am I going to let the fear of failure hold me back. Just because I can’t do something now, doesn’t mean I can't learn it. If something appeals to me I will give it a go irregardless of what others think I should be doing.
Life is too just too short to be defined by the expectations of others. This one size fits all philosophy makes others comfortable , however, that doesn't mean conforming is the always best choice. As for myself, I am usually the round peg who has no intention of trying to fit into that square hole.
Very few people know that I can sing. When I was young, I was singled out to do solos in church and a school choral group. Both of my parents can sing and my mother has an amazing voice. Mom loved opera and, recognizing that I had perfect pitch, she signed me up for vocal lessons. I felt mediocre because I struggled to hit high notes, I couldn’t project efficiently, and eventually I didn’t enjoy singing at all. Soon I began to fake many sore throats so I could escape the obligation to perform and by the time I was 15 I refused to participate at all. I had reached a point where I felt like a failure and didn’t even like the sound of my own voice. I have refused to sing anything in public since that time.
A few years ago, some friends and I were singing to a Jackson Brown album when someone commented on my voice. I told them I am not very good and I explained why I hate singing in front of others. They replied, “You have a wonderful voice. It sounds like you can sing but you just didn’t like the operatic style people were trying to force you to sing.” At that moment I realized that I had convinced myself that I lacked talent because I wasn't performing by someone else's standards.
I do not go to church every week but I do have a strong faith in God and I do believe that God has a plan for each of us. Like children, we need to fail because we learn from mistakes. What I find amazing is that God creates miracles from our failures. In the bible, some of the most prominent figures came from the most unlikely people. I believe that God sometimes needs us to learn to be our own unique self, develop our own talents, and risk failure before we can find success.
The world tells us that we should conform. We are told that to be accepted we need to change who we are. Yet, most successful people have challenged this line of thinking. Many of the greatest men and women in history were rebels. Eleanor Roosevelt, one of my heroes, is quoted as saying “Well behaved women never make history.”
Ryan Blair, a former gang member who did jail time, only has a 9th grade education yet is the CEO of a multi-million dollar corporation. In the article ‘Gang Member to CEO’ he is quoted as saying:
“As a product of Los Angeles's public school system, in a state with the highest dropout rate in the nation (about 20 percent), I can tell you from personal experience that some of our brightest minds are being misidentified because of a one-size-fits-all learning environment. Because I had ADD and dyslexia I never got past the 9th grade. I recall sitting with a career counselor in continuation high school, being told that I didn't have the intellect or aptitude to become a doctor or a lawyer. They suggested a trade school, construction, something where I'd be working with my hands.
The irony is that today I employ plenty of doctors and lawyers. Would you rather be a doctor or a lawyer, or a guy who writes a check to doctors and lawyers? As an entrepreneur, having a college degree or getting classroom training won't hurt your chances for starting a successful business, but it's ultimately not necessary. In Malcolm Gladwell's book "Outliers," he makes a point that it takes approximately 10,000 hours to master a skill set at a professional level. That means experience, over traditional education”.
The truth is that some of the most talented people in history were told they had no talent. Society told them not to try but they refused to conform and refused to stop pursuing their passions. An article I have saved for years by Ann Landers titled “Failure Can Provide Golden Lesson” is taped to my refrigerator. In the article it points out that:
• Einstein was 4 years old before he could speak.
• Isaac Newton did poorly in grade school and was considered unpromising.
• Beethoven’s’ music teacher told him he was hopeless as a composer.
• In grade school, Thomas Edison’s teacher told him he was too stupid to learn anything and recommended he go into a field where he could succeed by virtue of his pleasant personality.
• Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team.
• Boston Celtics hall of famer Bob Cousy suffered the same fate.
• A newspaper editor fired Walt Disney because he “lacked imagination and had no good ideas.”
• Babe Ruth struck out 1300 times, a major league record.
Last week I came home and my two year old granddaughter was running around with no shirt on. I both sympathized with my son and laughed at the memory it evoked. When I was very young, I saw my brother working outside with no shirt and decided that on a hot summer day no shirt made more sense than the scratchy shirt I was wearing. My mother saw me running around shirtless and made me put my shirt on while talking to me about acting like a lady. As I grew up, I was often discouraged from participating in many activities as I heard the term “it isn’t ladylike” used as a reason. As I grew I resented the fact that the boys got to have all the fun. However, as an adult, my activities are not gender defined. I enjoy trying new things and I am not afraid of getting my hand dirty nor am I going to let the fear of failure hold me back. Just because I can’t do something now, doesn’t mean I can't learn it. If something appeals to me I will give it a go irregardless of what others think I should be doing.
Life is too just too short to be defined by the expectations of others. This one size fits all philosophy makes others comfortable , however, that doesn't mean conforming is the always best choice. As for myself, I am usually the round peg who has no intention of trying to fit into that square hole.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Expectations
Today is Sunday and I spent my day in the company of my two dogs reading a book and completing a few household chores. It was a day to recharge and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Some of my friends do not understand how I can enjoy my alone time since they prefer to have someone around. Therefore they cannont relate to the pleasure I find in solitude.
Sometimes I wonder if a person's inability to enjoy their own company is based on some type of insecurity. For example, if I were a person who lived to meet the expectations of others then the occasional day of solitude may not be as enjoyable because my focus could not be on my own contentment.
Everyone will compare themself to someone else from time to time. Monitoring the success of our peers is how we measure our self against the rest of the world. However, if we are not careful we will exhaust ourselves in our attempts to meet the perceived expections of others. In our journey to conform to what we perceive is expected of us, we can develop battle fatigue which leaves us vulnerable. The exhaustion and stress can blind us to the possibilities that are often right in front of us and causing us to only see the problems.
I have been under a great deal of stress this last few weeks and solitude is my way to recharge. I am content but sometimes my contentment can be misconstrued for being just being complaisant. Since I have never been one who lives to meet the expectations of others, I have a low tolerance for other who do. Too many people will put their ego in the driver's seat instead of just doing what they know is best for their own life. These people will define their own pleasure around what is looks appealing to their peers. Everone has those moments where the ego rules, but if the ego drives our life all of the time then there is a shallowness that I don't want to bring into my world.
A friend recently held a dinner and, upon arrival, I discovered that she invited an eligible bachelor for me to meet. I hate blind dates so this was, in their well intentioned way, an opportunity to introduce me to someone they felt would be the perfect match. I am single, they are married and happy. They care about me and the expectation is that my life should be as happy as their life is. However, the potential match was not a match. His ego was in the drivers seat from his large expensive car to his spray on tan. Attempts to actually have a conversation failed and I ended up talking to others more than him while he sat on the side talking to no one. If he had simple relaxed and focused on an enjoyable evening everyone would have enjoyed his company more and I speculate that the evening would have been much more pleasant for him as well.
About a year ago I dated someone for a couple of months. He was a senior manager for an engineering firm and travelled internationally for work. Because of his job, he would be gone for long periods of time so we ended up staying friends. He wasn't a bad looking man but when one of my best friends met him she was appalled because he wasn't gorgeous. When I told her that I am not looking for gorgeous she didn't understand. I told her that I am looking for intelligent, compassionate, and genuine. How a person carries himself is more important to me than being tall, dark, and handsome. She did not understand my thought process and was always trying to introduce me to men who are more interested in their looks than their quality of life. I was not offended since I understood that her intention was to encourage me to live up to the same expectations she felt were best for her own life. However, at that time she could not understand why her own dating life was so unsatisfactory. Eventually she changed her attitude when she fell for someone who is not gorgeous, but is intelligent, compassionate, genuine, and very good to her.
My friend is an example of how expectations drive the ego and the ego causes people to compromise their own happiness. I find it comical when I hear a woman say she is genuine yes she will forgo paying her house payment to afford a cosmetic surgery procedure so she can impress a man. Yet, society drives this attitude. I wish I had a nickle for every time a male friend complains that women are shallow. I often hear my male friends say that 'nice guys don't stand a chance.' Yet, the same men who say they are looking for a good heart also want that good heart to be wrapped in a package of physical perfection.
I have been on my own for a some time so I have had no choice but to learn to be independent and to accomplish many things other women have never had to learn. Although I don't have the physical strength that a man does, I do have the ability to manage on my own so I often forget to ask for help. I realize that this sometimes puts men off but I refuse to be something I am not. A friend of mine is as self sufficient as I am. She is successful, resourceful, and intelligent. However, when she is around men she plays the part of the dumb blond asking silly questions and acting as though she isn't incapable of managing anything. Eventually, the true person emerges and the relationship ends. I realize that trying to be someone I am not will offer an attraction initially but eventually my self sufficient self would emerge. So, I am what I am and if he can't take me as I am in the beginning, then he probably would not want me anyway.
The result is that I spent today alone, content, and happy with my own company. The only person I needed to impress is myself. I am not complaisant, I am content. Although I enjoy the company of others, the company I keep must to be the kind of company I enjoy. There will be no compromises on this. The expectation I have of myself is that I work hard to be my personal best every day and not bend my values or shirk my responsibilities to meet the expectations of the rest of the world. Love me or leave me, I am who I am.
Sometimes I wonder if a person's inability to enjoy their own company is based on some type of insecurity. For example, if I were a person who lived to meet the expectations of others then the occasional day of solitude may not be as enjoyable because my focus could not be on my own contentment.
Everyone will compare themself to someone else from time to time. Monitoring the success of our peers is how we measure our self against the rest of the world. However, if we are not careful we will exhaust ourselves in our attempts to meet the perceived expections of others. In our journey to conform to what we perceive is expected of us, we can develop battle fatigue which leaves us vulnerable. The exhaustion and stress can blind us to the possibilities that are often right in front of us and causing us to only see the problems.
I have been under a great deal of stress this last few weeks and solitude is my way to recharge. I am content but sometimes my contentment can be misconstrued for being just being complaisant. Since I have never been one who lives to meet the expectations of others, I have a low tolerance for other who do. Too many people will put their ego in the driver's seat instead of just doing what they know is best for their own life. These people will define their own pleasure around what is looks appealing to their peers. Everone has those moments where the ego rules, but if the ego drives our life all of the time then there is a shallowness that I don't want to bring into my world.
A friend recently held a dinner and, upon arrival, I discovered that she invited an eligible bachelor for me to meet. I hate blind dates so this was, in their well intentioned way, an opportunity to introduce me to someone they felt would be the perfect match. I am single, they are married and happy. They care about me and the expectation is that my life should be as happy as their life is. However, the potential match was not a match. His ego was in the drivers seat from his large expensive car to his spray on tan. Attempts to actually have a conversation failed and I ended up talking to others more than him while he sat on the side talking to no one. If he had simple relaxed and focused on an enjoyable evening everyone would have enjoyed his company more and I speculate that the evening would have been much more pleasant for him as well.
About a year ago I dated someone for a couple of months. He was a senior manager for an engineering firm and travelled internationally for work. Because of his job, he would be gone for long periods of time so we ended up staying friends. He wasn't a bad looking man but when one of my best friends met him she was appalled because he wasn't gorgeous. When I told her that I am not looking for gorgeous she didn't understand. I told her that I am looking for intelligent, compassionate, and genuine. How a person carries himself is more important to me than being tall, dark, and handsome. She did not understand my thought process and was always trying to introduce me to men who are more interested in their looks than their quality of life. I was not offended since I understood that her intention was to encourage me to live up to the same expectations she felt were best for her own life. However, at that time she could not understand why her own dating life was so unsatisfactory. Eventually she changed her attitude when she fell for someone who is not gorgeous, but is intelligent, compassionate, genuine, and very good to her.
My friend is an example of how expectations drive the ego and the ego causes people to compromise their own happiness. I find it comical when I hear a woman say she is genuine yes she will forgo paying her house payment to afford a cosmetic surgery procedure so she can impress a man. Yet, society drives this attitude. I wish I had a nickle for every time a male friend complains that women are shallow. I often hear my male friends say that 'nice guys don't stand a chance.' Yet, the same men who say they are looking for a good heart also want that good heart to be wrapped in a package of physical perfection.
I have been on my own for a some time so I have had no choice but to learn to be independent and to accomplish many things other women have never had to learn. Although I don't have the physical strength that a man does, I do have the ability to manage on my own so I often forget to ask for help. I realize that this sometimes puts men off but I refuse to be something I am not. A friend of mine is as self sufficient as I am. She is successful, resourceful, and intelligent. However, when she is around men she plays the part of the dumb blond asking silly questions and acting as though she isn't incapable of managing anything. Eventually, the true person emerges and the relationship ends. I realize that trying to be someone I am not will offer an attraction initially but eventually my self sufficient self would emerge. So, I am what I am and if he can't take me as I am in the beginning, then he probably would not want me anyway.
The result is that I spent today alone, content, and happy with my own company. The only person I needed to impress is myself. I am not complaisant, I am content. Although I enjoy the company of others, the company I keep must to be the kind of company I enjoy. There will be no compromises on this. The expectation I have of myself is that I work hard to be my personal best every day and not bend my values or shirk my responsibilities to meet the expectations of the rest of the world. Love me or leave me, I am who I am.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Butter and Sugar Sandwiches
Father's day has arrived and, as usual, I miss my dad very much. Although my father is no longer with me, I feel fortunate to have so many wonderful memories of dad.
This morning I was reminiscing about a time when I was very young and we lived in the country, miles away from town. One hot, humid afternoon I was very bored and, as children sometimes do, I was complaining. Usually my dad would take us fishing or do something outdoors. This particular day he had something important to finish so we were staying at home. As I sat under a tree with my knees drawn up to my chin, I looked up to see my dad strolling towards me with a paper bag, a jug of water, and fishing poles.
There was a stream not far from our home that didn't have anything worth fishing for in it, but that is where he took me. We sat by the stream with our hooks in the water as we listened to the sounds around us. As we sat enjoying the afternoon, my dad opened the paper bag to reveal some fruit and two butter and sugar sandwiches. Butter and sugar sandwiches were my favorite at the time. We had our snack and dad talked about the tadpoles in the water, his fishing experiences when he was young, and told me things about a few plants growing nearby. For a time we just sat silently on the side of the stream as dad read a book while I dangled my feet in the water. As an adult, I can appreciate the fact that this excursion was more about enjoying the time together than the actual activity.
Throughout my life, I was fortunate to have had many moments like these with my father. What dad gave me in creating 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' were some wonderful memories and some very valuable life lessons. I learned that relationships need the investment of time to thrive. It isn't always convenient, but people we care about need to be a priority in our lives. He taught me loyalty. There were many times when it wasn't convenient for my father to involve me in his daily activities, yet he did it because I was important to him. I learned the value of compromise. Instead of scolding me for being bored, dad attempted to understand my feelings and compromise his time. Dad led by example and, through his actions, he taught me that all types of relationships involve two people. It would never be only about me. No one is perfect but, if a relationship is important to us, we should want to maintain an awareness of what is important to the other person simply because we care. Dad taught me acceptance. He told me that no one is without flaws and he loved me in spite of my imperfections. My father taught me about loyalty by always being on my side, even when he didn't agree with my choices. I learned that a good friendship doesn't require constant conversation. In the silent moments, compatibility creates it's own feeling of comfort. The most important lesson is that sometimes those 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' make the difference between sustaining a relationship or watching it fade away.
Thank you to my wonderful dad for the many 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' we shared over the years.
This morning I was reminiscing about a time when I was very young and we lived in the country, miles away from town. One hot, humid afternoon I was very bored and, as children sometimes do, I was complaining. Usually my dad would take us fishing or do something outdoors. This particular day he had something important to finish so we were staying at home. As I sat under a tree with my knees drawn up to my chin, I looked up to see my dad strolling towards me with a paper bag, a jug of water, and fishing poles.
There was a stream not far from our home that didn't have anything worth fishing for in it, but that is where he took me. We sat by the stream with our hooks in the water as we listened to the sounds around us. As we sat enjoying the afternoon, my dad opened the paper bag to reveal some fruit and two butter and sugar sandwiches. Butter and sugar sandwiches were my favorite at the time. We had our snack and dad talked about the tadpoles in the water, his fishing experiences when he was young, and told me things about a few plants growing nearby. For a time we just sat silently on the side of the stream as dad read a book while I dangled my feet in the water. As an adult, I can appreciate the fact that this excursion was more about enjoying the time together than the actual activity.
Throughout my life, I was fortunate to have had many moments like these with my father. What dad gave me in creating 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' were some wonderful memories and some very valuable life lessons. I learned that relationships need the investment of time to thrive. It isn't always convenient, but people we care about need to be a priority in our lives. He taught me loyalty. There were many times when it wasn't convenient for my father to involve me in his daily activities, yet he did it because I was important to him. I learned the value of compromise. Instead of scolding me for being bored, dad attempted to understand my feelings and compromise his time. Dad led by example and, through his actions, he taught me that all types of relationships involve two people. It would never be only about me. No one is perfect but, if a relationship is important to us, we should want to maintain an awareness of what is important to the other person simply because we care. Dad taught me acceptance. He told me that no one is without flaws and he loved me in spite of my imperfections. My father taught me about loyalty by always being on my side, even when he didn't agree with my choices. I learned that a good friendship doesn't require constant conversation. In the silent moments, compatibility creates it's own feeling of comfort. The most important lesson is that sometimes those 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' make the difference between sustaining a relationship or watching it fade away.
Thank you to my wonderful dad for the many 'butter and sugar sandwich moments' we shared over the years.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
My Mother's Hands
While working in my garden last week, I pulled my hands from the soil and had a flashback as I saw my mother’s hands attached to my wrists. My mother is a creative woman and one of her passions is gardening. I remember watching my mom manipulate the soil around her roses with her small squared hands. Mom is a small woman who just reaches five feet tall yet I can't remember her being intimidated by anything and she would tackle any project with enthusiasm. Her little hands would sew stitches that were perfect and even. These same tiny hands would fly up and down the piano keyboard with incredible speed as she played extremely complex pieces.
The relationship with my mother has always been turbulent. After I moved away from home, the relationship eventually disintegrated into nothingness. Although my mother is not a mean spirited woman, she is best described as being extremely self absorbed and not very forgiving. If she does not get her way she simply “cuts people out of her life.” I have never been able to understand how any mother could simply discard her own children the way some people toss out an old newspaper and it is beyond my comprehension how a woman who loves children so much can turn her back on her own.
I moved away from home three days after I graduated High School. My dad was worrying about my drive, offering advise, and checking my car on the day that I left. My mother never acknowledged my departure. I think that she was unhappy because I had arranged to stay with my older sister until I found a place to live. She had turned her back on my sister for something I considered to be unreasonable several years earlier. I know she was angry that, not only was I not supporting her decision, I was leaving to stay with the enemy. Mom sat in front of her piano and didn’t get up or say a word of goodbye because she was playing a complicated piece. Saying good bye to me could cause her to lose her concentration. I stood for a moment to watch as her hands manipulated the piano keys. Her fingers flew across the keyboard so quickly that they were a blur. As I drove away, my dad stood outside waving solemnly but I could see my mother through a family room window bent over her piano keyboard, completely focused on her music. She never broke her concentration and she did not even look to see her last child leaving home. At the time I was wondering if she felt anything. How could she not say goodbye? Was she indifferent or simply unwilling to deal with her feelings? Many years passed before I could listen to piano music without getting an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When I reflect on what I admire about my mom, I think of her fighting spirit and her zest for life. My mother rarely exhibited fear and it seemed that no task was too much for her. One evening when I was about 12 my mom, my sister, and I came home and found someone in our garage stealing gasoline from my mother’s car. Before we could stop mom, her little hands grabbed a stick and she dashed into the garage. Moments later two large burly men were being chased down the street by my tiny mother. My father was, as usual, upset at the risk she took. Mom was able to assist the police in their capture of these men and for years she kept the large can of gasoline they dropped during their hasty departure.
I have another memory of a time when she and my father had an argument. After my father left for work, my mother took his boat without telling him, and we went to the lake. A storm was coming in and the water was getting rough. As we headed back to the dock we saw two men in the water clinging to a small row boat that had capsized. Mom pulled alongside and we helped them into our boat. Between us, we were able to flip the capsized boat and tow it to shore. As we got home I remember the sight of my dad standing in the driveway and he looked upset. My little mother did not appear to be intimidated. Instead, she simply put her chin in the air and pranced right past him into the house. Dad was upset because she took the boat out without telling anyone where she was going but when he heard about the rescue he became upset about the risk she took. I recall the sight of my mom facing him, chin held high and hands on her hips as she replied distinctly “..and exactly what would you have me do? Leave them there? I am just as capable.....” Dad just stood and stared down at her for a long time. He had no reply so he simply walked out of the house to calm down.
Mother’s day is approaching and I can’t help but compare my role as a mother to the role my own mother chose. By the time my mother was my age, she had purposely estranged herself from her two brothers, my father, and three of her four children. She had a different reason for each estrangement, but I don't feel that any of her reasons truly justified a reason to disown anyone. My sister and I attempted to keep an open line of communication because we hoped to give our children an opportunity to know their grandmother. All attempts have been rejected and today my mom does not know her own grandchildren. My mother is so stubborn, unforgiving, and often so self absorbed that it is easier for us not to be put in a position where we are forced to deal with her tirades and unreasonable demands. Even so, I treasure my memories of her and I am sad that my children will never know the ornery little woman who chases burglars down the street in the evening and cries when she finds a bird with a broken wing the next day.
I could spend my life resenting my mother, but I don’t. Anger and resentment are negative emotions that accomplish nothing positive. The victim mentality is a waste of time and I refuse to surrender to it. It is my belief that life is a journey and if my focus is on the view in the rear view mirror I will miss the opportunity to see the beautiful scenery that lies in front of me. As challenging as my mother can be, I treasure every memory because my experiences are what molded me into the person I have become. These experiences have made me stronger and the challenges have caused me to appreciate my blessings that much more.
I will admit that I am disappointed because I was unable to maintain a relationship with my mother. However, mom is the one who made the choice so it is her loss. She denied herself the gift of family but I have two incredible children plus an extended family who always does something special to express their affection for me, not only on Mother’s day, but on many other days throughout the year. So this year I will again send a Mother’s day card that will not be acknowledged because, although I am my mother's daughter, I choose a different response.
After every storm comes a rainbow and I have been blessed with many rainbows. My mother's day is a special day, not because of the relationship I have with my own mother, but because of the relationship with my own children, the memories I choose to treasure, and the choices I have made on my own journey through motherhood.
“Just because a person doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean that they don’t love you with all that they have got. “Source Unknown
The relationship with my mother has always been turbulent. After I moved away from home, the relationship eventually disintegrated into nothingness. Although my mother is not a mean spirited woman, she is best described as being extremely self absorbed and not very forgiving. If she does not get her way she simply “cuts people out of her life.” I have never been able to understand how any mother could simply discard her own children the way some people toss out an old newspaper and it is beyond my comprehension how a woman who loves children so much can turn her back on her own.
I moved away from home three days after I graduated High School. My dad was worrying about my drive, offering advise, and checking my car on the day that I left. My mother never acknowledged my departure. I think that she was unhappy because I had arranged to stay with my older sister until I found a place to live. She had turned her back on my sister for something I considered to be unreasonable several years earlier. I know she was angry that, not only was I not supporting her decision, I was leaving to stay with the enemy. Mom sat in front of her piano and didn’t get up or say a word of goodbye because she was playing a complicated piece. Saying good bye to me could cause her to lose her concentration. I stood for a moment to watch as her hands manipulated the piano keys. Her fingers flew across the keyboard so quickly that they were a blur. As I drove away, my dad stood outside waving solemnly but I could see my mother through a family room window bent over her piano keyboard, completely focused on her music. She never broke her concentration and she did not even look to see her last child leaving home. At the time I was wondering if she felt anything. How could she not say goodbye? Was she indifferent or simply unwilling to deal with her feelings? Many years passed before I could listen to piano music without getting an awful feeling in the pit of my stomach.
When I reflect on what I admire about my mom, I think of her fighting spirit and her zest for life. My mother rarely exhibited fear and it seemed that no task was too much for her. One evening when I was about 12 my mom, my sister, and I came home and found someone in our garage stealing gasoline from my mother’s car. Before we could stop mom, her little hands grabbed a stick and she dashed into the garage. Moments later two large burly men were being chased down the street by my tiny mother. My father was, as usual, upset at the risk she took. Mom was able to assist the police in their capture of these men and for years she kept the large can of gasoline they dropped during their hasty departure.
I have another memory of a time when she and my father had an argument. After my father left for work, my mother took his boat without telling him, and we went to the lake. A storm was coming in and the water was getting rough. As we headed back to the dock we saw two men in the water clinging to a small row boat that had capsized. Mom pulled alongside and we helped them into our boat. Between us, we were able to flip the capsized boat and tow it to shore. As we got home I remember the sight of my dad standing in the driveway and he looked upset. My little mother did not appear to be intimidated. Instead, she simply put her chin in the air and pranced right past him into the house. Dad was upset because she took the boat out without telling anyone where she was going but when he heard about the rescue he became upset about the risk she took. I recall the sight of my mom facing him, chin held high and hands on her hips as she replied distinctly “..and exactly what would you have me do? Leave them there? I am just as capable.....” Dad just stood and stared down at her for a long time. He had no reply so he simply walked out of the house to calm down.
Mother’s day is approaching and I can’t help but compare my role as a mother to the role my own mother chose. By the time my mother was my age, she had purposely estranged herself from her two brothers, my father, and three of her four children. She had a different reason for each estrangement, but I don't feel that any of her reasons truly justified a reason to disown anyone. My sister and I attempted to keep an open line of communication because we hoped to give our children an opportunity to know their grandmother. All attempts have been rejected and today my mom does not know her own grandchildren. My mother is so stubborn, unforgiving, and often so self absorbed that it is easier for us not to be put in a position where we are forced to deal with her tirades and unreasonable demands. Even so, I treasure my memories of her and I am sad that my children will never know the ornery little woman who chases burglars down the street in the evening and cries when she finds a bird with a broken wing the next day.
I could spend my life resenting my mother, but I don’t. Anger and resentment are negative emotions that accomplish nothing positive. The victim mentality is a waste of time and I refuse to surrender to it. It is my belief that life is a journey and if my focus is on the view in the rear view mirror I will miss the opportunity to see the beautiful scenery that lies in front of me. As challenging as my mother can be, I treasure every memory because my experiences are what molded me into the person I have become. These experiences have made me stronger and the challenges have caused me to appreciate my blessings that much more.
I will admit that I am disappointed because I was unable to maintain a relationship with my mother. However, mom is the one who made the choice so it is her loss. She denied herself the gift of family but I have two incredible children plus an extended family who always does something special to express their affection for me, not only on Mother’s day, but on many other days throughout the year. So this year I will again send a Mother’s day card that will not be acknowledged because, although I am my mother's daughter, I choose a different response.
After every storm comes a rainbow and I have been blessed with many rainbows. My mother's day is a special day, not because of the relationship I have with my own mother, but because of the relationship with my own children, the memories I choose to treasure, and the choices I have made on my own journey through motherhood.
“Just because a person doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean that they don’t love you with all that they have got. “Source Unknown
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Developing A Good Relationship With Oneself
"My favourite books, art pieces, films, and music, always have something jarring about them. I want art to make me think. In order to do that, it may piss me off, or make me uncomfortable. That promotes awareness and change, or at least some discussion. That is my intention. You can't move mountains by whispering at them."
Pink
A few weeks ago I went to lunch with some ladies I know and, as I sat listening to them talk, I realized I wasn’t enjoying myself. The entire lunch consisted of conversation that was shallow and based on gossip about who isn't living life according to their standards. Life is too short to be wasting time with useless gossip and negativity so I made a graceful exit as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I have declined all invitations from them since. Unfortunately, I feel that the flavor of their conversation is a reflection of society today. There is so much going on in the world today including war, tornadoes, earthquakes, natural disasters, and an unstable political climate yet many people seem to be more focused on which celebrity is ruining his life with drugs and who is divorcing who. I have to ask myself, was mankind always this shallow or is the media simply magnifying what has always been there?
“A man wrapped up in himself makes a very small bundle.”
Ben Franklin
When a disaster causes devastation, people express grief and are determined to help until they become distracted by a new article on some celebrity’s drama. Yet, we can’t blame the media because the media only produces what sells. Society today is faced with an overload of media pop culture that spoon feeds us someone else’s idea of perfection. I think that the focus on the articles about a beautiful woman’s physical imperfection, or some famous person who is experiencing a personal trauma, are simply a reminder that they are human too and it reassures us that no one is perfect. Insecurity seems to be the driver causing people to focus on the failures of those who are perceived to have attained a certain level of perfection in their life. It is almost as though people look for a sense of reassurance that even those who we perceive to be perfect …really aren’t.
“To wish you were someone else is to waste the person you are.” Unknown
I wonder if people value looks, money, success, fame, and job titles because it is what they feel will provide the key to acceptance. Therefore, does society witness what they view as perfection of others and then strive to attain that same level of success thinking that this will be their key to happiness? To be special, loved, accepted and valued are basic human needs. Ironically, we all possess the ability to have a happy, confident, fulfilled life through self-acceptance. By attempting to emulate the ideals of someone else we risk becoming a spectator in our own life often sacrificing the unique qualities that make us who we are. In order to stop being a spectator we must first be willing to accept the roles of director and leading actor in our own life. We need to stop trying to be like everyone else and just learn to develop a good relationship with our self.
"Done looking for the critics because they are everywhere
They don't like my jeans they don't like my hair
We exchange ourselves and we do it all the time
Why do we do that? Why do we do that?"
Pink
My circle of friends are kind, intelligent, articulate people who don’t rely on designer clothes or plastic surgery to make their lives complete. We would rather spend $200 on a plane ticket to experience a new adventure than on a pair of designer jeans. When I am with my friends, we share the successes and the struggles in our lives but soon our conversations turns into lively discussions about politics, history, books, gardening tips, we share recipes, and discuss whatever new adventure we are currently pursuing. A group of us met for dinner the other evening and, as I was driving home, I realized how refreshing it was to spend the evening conversing with women who have actively taken the lead in their own lives. By learning to accept ourselves, flaws and all, we revel in our differences rather than trying to hide them. In doing this, we have also learned to be more accepting of differences in others. Mutual interests are what bond us but it is actually the differences that keep the conversation alive. None of us are spectators to our own lives because we are too busy living our lives to be concerned about someone else's idea of perfection.
“Man sooner or later discovers that he is the master gardener of his own soul and the director of his own life.” James Allen.
The only constant in life is change. Even if we feel we have attained some level of perfection in our life, change is inevitable. Whether the change comes through a change in address, job, financial situation, divorce, death, illness, or a change in family dynamics change will come. What will strengthen us and help us navigate change is the relationship we have with ourselves. Not only does it make us stronger, happier, and more fulfilled it is also more enjoyable than trying to live a life that is just outside of our reach. Learning to have a good relationship with myself has set me free as I am no longer restricted by thoughts, feelings, and behaviors that I once thought were mandatory. My goal is to accept who I am, have a good relationship with myself, and remember that I can’t be unique and like everyone else at the same time.
" It took me a long time not to judge myself through someone else's eyes." Sally Field
Monday, April 4, 2011
This Adventure We Call Life
"Life is pure adventure, and the sooner we realize that, the sooner we will treat life as art."
Maya Angelou
We live in such an angry world today. War, destruction of our planet, criticism as a form of entertainment , and movies and TV programs that focus on horrific forms of death is all met with a sense of acceptance. I am not a person who enjoys spending hours in front of the television anyway so I see no point in being entertained by senseless violence, tragedy, and disappointments. My goal is to keep my life filled with activities and people that offer positive experiences. Someone told me once that I shouldn't ignore the ugliness in this world. I do keep myself abreast of what is happening around me but I refuse to dwell on the negative.
" The ultimate value of life depends upon awareness and contemplation rather than on mere survival."
Aristotle
Life can be a wonderful adventure and I try to counter the ugliness in this world with the beauty of the outdoors, art, music, positive people, and positive experiences. I volunteer whenever an opportunity arises to support a cause I care about. Not only do I find it rewarding, but I enjoy being around people who are trying to make a difference. Since I am fortunate enough to have more than I ever hoped for, giving my time is my small way of giving something back. Writing a check is often the easiest way to give but time is more valuable because it cannot be replaced. What I find is that I get back so much more from my meager efforts than I contribute.
I love animals and children so this is where the focus of my efforts. is. One of my regular volunteer events is with the zoo. Since I started to volunteer, over a year ago, I have learned that the Phoenix Zoo's contribution extends beyond viewing animals. The zoo is involved in a cooperative effort of research and preservation of animals and plants from around the Globe. During my time at the zoo, I have had the opportunity to meet some incredible people and learn amazing things about the world we live in.
These last few weeks we have been planting near a new orangutan enclosure which isn't open to the public yet. Yesterday, the horticulturist got my attention and pointed above me. As I raised my head I saw a small orangutan clinging to the fencing as it watched me with curious eyes. This enclosure will not open for a week but the keeper was nearby and she was able to enlighten us about the exhibit. The curious orangutan was one of the younger ones, not quite 5 years old, and he followed us around with curiosity in his eyes tilting his head this way and that. His actions were similar to a five year old child and the keeper commented that "he must be curious about the two legged animal."
"Different men seek happiness in different ways and by different means"
Aristotle
"If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain."
Maya Angelou
Since shock value is what sells, the type of information that saturates the media is usually negative and followed by the horrific details. I don't avoid what goes on in this world but the facts, not the details, are what I review. People are bombarded with negative news. Even the gossip magazines primarily sell information that has a focus on who is failing, breaking up, fighting, or doing something socially unacceptable. Wars are started by angry people, indifference and greed is destroying our planet, but I know that happiness is a choice. I am well aware of the tragedy in the world so I do what I can to help because every little bit makes a difference. However, I won't spend my days grieving because we live in an imperfect world. Happiness is a choice. I cannot remain idle waiting for happiness to find me so I purposely incorporate events into my life that make me happy. After all, the only way to avoid staying in the same place is by trying to move forward.
I choose to be happy and I also choose action over observance. By looking for positive experiences, and opportunities to contribute to a better world, I am constantly finding new areas of life to explore. With each experience I am reminded that life is an adventure well worth living. What I receive from this life depends on what I am willing to put into it and it all begins with my attitude.
"We are what we repeatedly do. Therefore, excellence is not an act, but a habit."
Aristotle.
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