The Imprints We Leave Behind

This weekend is father's day but it is also my dad's birthday.  We celebrated by having a brunch at my house with my son and  his family. When I was young, my dad would let me stand on a chair and 'help' him cook.  This provided quality time with dad and by time I was about eight I knew my way around a kitchen fairly well. I did the same with my children, and now my granddaughter has her very own little pink stool so she can help me in the kitchen. My son's girlfriend has a two year old boy, who is like a grandson to me, and today he too wanted to help so we had to limit her help to clean up and setting the table.

After everyone left  I realized that my garbage disposal was jammed.  I spent an hour of tinkering with it and  finally decided that I may need to call a plumber.  As  I began to scoop out the standing water with a turkey baster, I noticed that the drain looked different.   I ran my fingers around the rim and then I could not keep the smile off of my face as I pulled out a child size glass with little daisies all over it which was wedged down inside of the drain opening.  It made me wonder if it had been put there by my favorite little  helper because when my granddaughter visits, she always leaves something behind. She told my daughter once that it was " to remind nanna that she was there and so nanna would know she was there."   I looked around the room and saw the napkins sitting at a crooked angle in the napkin holder where little James was trying to do his part. Little finger prints were on my glass doors.  I moved my orchid, which was a gift from my son a few months ago, and put it back on the table. Next I washed the cobalt blue glasses that were a gift from my daughter. Then I  looked around for the next chore and realized that I am surrounded by things that always remind me of the people I love, reminders that they have touched my life in wonderful ways.

For example, the egg dish I served in mom's crystal bowl was one of my dad's favorite and dad was the one who taught me to make the blueberry buttermilk pancakes.  I have wonderful memories of standing on a chair as my dad showed me how to tell when the batter was just right and how to know when the pancakes were done.  My buffet has a runner that my grandma made.  Grandma was gifted with needlework and this particular runner is a favorite of mine with embroidery that includes vibrant colors of blue, yellow, and bright pink with hand crocheted edging.  My napkin holder was a gift from my mom many years go.  It is hand blown glass with napkins in it that  have the same colors as the runner. There is also a set of salt and pepper shakers that a dear friend bought for me when she visited Europe. My son's girlfriend had commented on my unusual coffee mug, a mug that my children bought me over twenty years ago.

It isn't the items that mean so much, it is the memories that come with them.  Each person that has touched my life has left an imprint of their presence. The imprint of my children, grandchildren, parents, ancestors, and friends are everywhere in my home and in my life, evoking wonderful memories.  I can only hope that the imprint I leave on their lives will evoke happy memories of me long after I am gone.

Once the clean up was complete,  I walked into my room and  on my bathroom counter, right where I can't miss it,  sits a little pink princess crown.  It is my little angel's message "I was here nanna. Remember me."  ... as though I would ever forget.


Happy Birthday and Happy Father's day to my dad.  I wish I could thank him for the wonderful memories.   I wish he was here so I could leave a  pink crown on his counter and then he too would know that I was here and I am thinking of him always.

Angel On The River

I don't know if I actually believe in Guardian Angels, but I do know that sometimes things happen that defy explanation.  For example, a series of dreams that reunites me with old friends, family, or a granddaughter that I was unaware of.  Events that only my closest friends and I share because I don't want to sound like a lunatic.  Basically, I don't know if I believe in Angels, ghosts, or demons but I  have experienced things that defy explanation so I don't try to understand them. I just accept that there are some things that are beyond my understanding.

 A good friend of mine said that she missed kayaking with me and wanted to get out on a river. I told her that I haven't been paddling regularly so I didn't think a strenuous trip would be advisable until I tone up my paddle muscles again.  We agreed to go down a mild stretch of the river.   Once we were on the water, I was glad that we were navigating a milder current because I noticed that I had to work harder than I did a year ago.

As I paddled the current I remembered the only time that I came close to getting hurt. Over a year ago, my friends and I were on the river in an area that is somewhere between a class II and class III.  I was not giving the current my full attention and got caught in a an eddy that was deep and swift. Although I was able to successfully paddle out of the eddy I was pulled into some large rocks which were sticking out of the water. My kayak became wedged and began to fill with water so I did a quick exit.  The water was only waist high but the current was very swift.  My companions went to the shore and threw a tow line to tie around the kayak and tow it to shore.  As they dislodged the kayak  the current suddenly shifted and pulled me off of my feet. I was swept under the kayak and found myself being swept downstream toward a section with stronger current and very large rocks.  After the initial shock of being submerged, my safety training kicked in. I knew I had to stop being pulled downstream because the swift current and rocks ahead were very dangerous.  Head up, toes pointed, grab rock, on knees, on my feet,  and seconds later I was on shore again walking upstream to my friends who were frantically calling my name.

On this kayak trip  I saw an eddy  with a couple of large rocks sticking out of the water. My heart was in my stomach as I tried to navigate around them but the current was strong.  As I felt my kayak being sucked sideways  into the rocks, the memory of that previous experience surfaced and I did the worst thing possible... I froze. As my kayak began to turn sideways,  I heard a firm voice in my head say  "Either you control that kayak or the current will control you."  I began to paddle and I heard that voice  reminding me "Use your hips. Don't fight the current, just paddle faster than the water." So, I used my hips, put my paddle deep in the water, and paddled as hard as I could. "Dig in and.get control"  Instead of focusing on my fear I focused on that voice. As I felt memories of my training surface I began to regain control and I placed my paddle deep in the water, braced, and used my hips to adjust the kayak. I felt the kayak right itself  ...in my head I heard that voice say "Paddle!! Paddle!!" ....so I  paddled hard.  I used my hips to turn... paddle.. turn,....paddle.... turn again... paddle hard...and then I was out of the eddy and away from the rocks. 

Another kayaker had held back  to make certain that I made it through and told me, "That was a great recovery! I got it on video.  May I put it on  U Tube?"  I replied with a laugh that I was glad my hat and sunglasses were hiding my face. 

My new kayak friend and I paddled together downstream.  On the slower moving parts of the river we talked and shared some stories. At one point we passed a large group of people in canoes and rafts floating near the shore with balloons.  My new friend paddled over to the group and asked if they are celebrating a birthday. 

One lady said,  No, this the anniversary of the day her son died on the river.  Exactly one year to the day. They think he got stuck in some rocks back there, and she pointed toward the area I had just come from,  but they found his body down by the bridge.  This group was floating in his memory and when they reach the bridge  they will release their  balloons .

I remembered that very distinct voice in my head clearly guiding me when I was being pushed into those rocks and I can't help but wonder......

Hidden In Plain Sight

There is someone I know who always makes a point of trying to start conversations with me.  A conversation with her consists of me listening politely with very little of the two way dialogue that a true conversation should consist of.   She is a good person but everything she says is negative and is reflective of victim mentality.   So, when she stopped by my office to talk recently, I pushed my work aside to listen to her rant about the issue that she found irritating at that particular moment. Within minutes her conversation had progressed to how unhappy she is with other areas of her life, complaints about her job, her relationships, or how people treat her.

Finally I asked, "So, what would make you happy with your life?"  
She answers me by saying, " To get up in the morning and be passionate about life, to feel the thrill of the upcoming day."
I asked, "So, what is stopping you?"
She didn't answer for several minutes and then she admitted,  "I don't know." 

I recently saw her in someone else's office complaining about her job, her relationships, how people treat her, and all of the reasons she can't change the situation while the other person sat back listening patiently.  I smiled and kept on walking.

The conversation with this person reminded me of a commencement speech that someone  convinced me to listen to on You Tube.  The speech is by David Foster Wallace and it was delivered in 2005 but, although I found it difficult to sit through the twenty two minute monologue,  I am glad I did listen to it all of the way through because the message is truly memorable.   He said "how we construct meaning in our lives is part of personal and intentional choice."  Next he went through what would be most people's daily routine from the time we hit the snooze button in the morning to the traffic jam on the freeway and the quick stop at the grocery store after a tiring day only to get up the following morning to do it all again.  In summary, he said that this is reality and that the responsibility of being educated is not to guarantee anyone a life of endless excitement and success. The Liberal Arts part of education is to teach us how to think, how to be in the present moment, how to maintain a sense of awareness, and to remember that in every moment we have a choice.  His speech was titled "This Is Water" and he actually begins his speech by telling the tale of two young goldfish swimming along. As an older goldfish swims by he asks the two young fish 'How is the water boys?'  They both automatically say "fine"  but, as the older goldfish swims away, one of the young goldfish turns to the other and asks 'What is water?'

"The real value of a real education has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over: 'This is water. This is water.'"

David Foster Wallace

My mother's affairs are almost settled so I now have time to do things other than try to sort through the chaos that was impacting my life over the last year.   My life feels almost normal again and for the past two weeks I have been able to get up on Sunday morning and  do something that I had previously taken for granted.  For two Sundays now I have been able to get up and enjoy my coffee on my patio surrounded by my garden with my dogs at my feet as I read my book.  However, the thrill over having nothing to do for a few  hours on a Sunday morning may eventually become too routine and, if it does,  then I have a choice. I can choose to swim through my routine, blissfully unaware of the possibilities, or I can just continue with the same routine every Sunday from now on while I complain endlessly to anyone who will listen, or I can choose to explore other ways to make my weekend morning special.  The solution, like the water in the goldfish bowl, is hidden in plain sight.    By choosing to maintain an awareness of the fact that there are other options, and know that the choice I make impacts my perspective as much as my perspective impacts my choice, is what will define my  attitude which also defines how I respond to the banalities of life in general.  Maintaining  an awareness that I do have the freedom to choose how I respond to these moments is what  changes an uneventful Sunday morning into an  hour of pure joy on my patio with my coffee, my dogs,  and a good read.

A Lesson From Mom.

"We are what we believe we are." - C. S. Lewis

Although I am not a fan of Hallmark Holidays, as Mother's day approaches I find myself reflecting more on what this holiday means to me.  Well, to be more precise, I find myself reflecting on what my mother means to me because our relationship has had some turbulent years.  Yet, I think in spite of all of the angst, there is a foundation of respect between us. We are very different people yet we are also very much alike in certain ways.

Mom taught me compassion and to appreciate life without the commercialism.  She taught me to be true to myself and that those who criticize me for being different are simply people who can't accept change, however, that does not necessarily mean that I am wrong or that I should conform.

 I grew up in an era where women were fighting for equal rights.  Growing up I read about people who refused to conform, and therefore, they had a great impact on our society.  I began to realize that my mother was onto something.   Mom made certain that I was aware of women like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Margaret Sanger.  In my younger years I would listen to my mother and the women of the BPW Club discuss the women's Betty Friedman and the Women's Feminist Movement in the  1960's and 1970's.  I read about people who were different yet impacted history because they were true to themselves.  Martin Luther King, Abraham Lincoln, and Ghandi are a few examples.

 
Thanks to my parents,  I realize that there are always going to be people who will be trying  to convince me that my differences are actually flaws but, whether these people are standing in the spotlight voicing their opinions or standing in the shadows whispering them,  my greatest defense is to know who I am and to believe in myself.  I discovered that one can choose to learn from their mistakes and work to create a better future or we can let our insecurities take us prisoner.  No one is helpless because we have the power of choice and, when that choice is different than what everyone else is doing, we still need to be true to ourselves.

"Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." -Albert Einstein

Many great people in history were called failures because they didn't conform.  I have an old Ann Landers column hanging on my refrigerator titled 'Failure can provide a golden lesson.' The failure list is as follows:

Isaac Newton did poorly in grade school and was considered unpromising.

Beethoven's music teacher told him that 'As a composer, he is hopeless.'

Thomas Edison  was told that he lacked intelligence and should make his living by utilizing his pleasant personality

F.W. Woolworth worked in a dry goods store but his employer would not promote him because he didn't have "enough sense to close a sale."

Walt Disney was fired from a newspaper job because "he lacked imagination and had no good ideas.'

Winston Churchill struggled in school and had to take the 6th grade twice.

Babe Ruth struck out 1300 times, a major league record.

Thanks to my upbringing, trying to be someone I am not so I can meet the expectations of society, is not who I am.   I can get plastic surgery to erase my physical flaws and learn behave in a way that is foreign to me in an attempt to gain acceptance of others but, if I were to do these things, I would risk losing a part of myself in the process.  Everyone is unique but not everyone will be accepting of the differences and, good or bad,  the differences are what set us apart.. What is  important is that I accept who I am and, thanks to my mother, I do accept myself for who I am.  This is the one lesson I tried to share with my own children.  As a result of this lesson I am grateful to my mother, I am proud of my children, and I am happy with the person I am still learning to be.  Thank you to my parents and thank you to my mom for this invaluable lesson.

....we dive headfirst into the endless project of improving our physical selves. No cosmetic strategy ever fulfills our hopes, since what we hope for—the knowledge that we’re acceptable—is almost completely unrelated to physical appearance.

Martha Beck.

 

 

Happy Mother's Day

Taking Out The Trash

Just when I think that I have it all figured out, life throws me a curve.  In the last ten months, since I got the call to help my  mom, I began a journey of reflection and forgiveness.  To my surprise,  I discovered that forgiveness is not so much about the relationship, or the other person. Forgiveness is about setting ourselves free.  It is more like taking out the trash.  The trash still exists, we have simply moved it to another place so it cannot pollute our living environment.

We humans are imperfect beings so it is inevitable that people will hurt us at some point in time.  Sometimes the hurt is intentional and sometimes  it is because  two people will look at same situation and see things from a different perspective but, if we carry the pain of the past  with us everywhere we go, we  risk becoming a prisoner of our own pain and resentment.  My first step in the forgiveness process was to give people room to be human, to make mistakes, and  to be who God made them to be.  Just like the garbage in my trash bin, my past has not changed, I have simply  moved it to a different place so it can no longer pollute my spirit.

 I think that sometimes we are reluctant to forgive because we don't want to be hurt  again  but forgiveness and trust are two separate animals.  Forgiveness does not mean making ourselves vulnerable to someone who could cause us harm.  Forgiveness is simply the house cleaning process of letting go so past hurts no longer have any power over us and, as a result, it frees us to enjoy the present moment.

I read once that everything in life has a purpose and that nothing in life is wasted.  There must be truth in this because some of my greatest life lessons came from times of adversity.  Since great lessons can come from those painful times, I suppose that this is a form of recycling the emotional garbage in such a way that yesterday's waste does not block the path to a future of purpose and happiness.

"One man's trash is another man's gold."
Unknown

http://vimeo.com/52711779

The link above is  a short documentary video about a town in South America that literally sits on a landfill. They took what others considered garbage and recycled it into something amazing. This video reminded me that there is potential for good in everything and that the potential for beauty is everywhere. Everything begins with our perspective and the end result depends on what we do with the garbage that is left behind. 

White Blood Cells

My senses have been on overload with the violent images put in front of me by the media.  Horrific images of the bombing at the Boston Marathon, an explosion of a Fertilizer plant in Texas took lives and leveled homes, and then an all out manhunt for bombing suspects in Boston.  Over the last week it was impossible to turn on the news or the radio without receiving minute by minute updates on these stories. 

I am not saying that it isn't important to  understand what is happening but a constant stream of violence and negativity being forced into my world for an entire week was almost too much. I had big plans this weekend beginning with a girls night out with my cousins. During our outing I received a message from my daughter, who is living in China, saying  that she was standing in the street unable to enter her building because of an earthquake that was strong enough to make international news. At that point, my tragedy meter was on overload. I just needed a weekend of solitude to recover so I rearranged my schedule.

Yesterday I began to look for Internet stories with a more positive theme and what I found confirmed that I am not the only one who has had enough of horrific images from the media.  One recurring quote  in articles that had a more positive flavor was the one from Mr. Rogers who said that when a catastrophe happens, "Look for the helpers." 

I began to surf the Internet and found many heartwarming stories that were not getting attention because they were buried beneath the violent ones.  There  is more good than bad in this world but the bad is what gets the media attention.  One article, written by comedian Patton Oswalt, compared good people to the white blood cells in our body,   "But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evildoers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation."

I guess this is just how life is, the white blood cells are there in great numbers just doing their work without trying to get attention.  As a result, the red blood cells just get all of the attention because that is all that is immediately visible.  It is up to us to look deeper if we want to see both sides of a situation.

Moving Beyond Indifference

Most of us were taught to respect life and show compassion to others so  when innocent people, especially children, are killed without reason it falls beyond of my scope of understanding.  It would be easy to allow anger and sadness to dominate my thoughts but if I gave control to the negative emotions then I would be no better than the person who placed the bombs or pulled the trigger. To say nothing sends a message of indifference and acceptance but when we, as a nation, speak out against these acts of hate we send a message of strength and unity. 

" We can be pitiful or we can be powerful but we cannot be both at the same time."

Joel O'steen

I was heartbroken when I heard that someone put bombs at the finish line of the Boston Marathon but I began to feel a sense of pride in my fellow Americans when I read that, after the bombs went off, instead of running away, strangers were running toward the dust and risking their own lives to help others.  These people represent the America that my brother, father, and grandfathers fought for. These are the people who make this a great nation, this is a reflection of the values that our nation was founded on, and this is why I am proud to be an American.

Usually, a terrorist wants people to know why he did it.  Since the 19th century, when terrorism began assassinations in Europe, they signed their assassinations. What joy does the assassin draw from killing people? Try to understand that. You can’t.”  Elie Wiesel

Elie Wiesel was a Jew, born in 1928, and a Holocaust survivor.  He could have gone through life carrying a blanket of hatred and wallowing in self pity but instead he made a negative experience have a positive outcome.  Instead of harboring an attitude of resentment,  he spent the remainder of his life working to create change by teaching tolerance and acceptance to others.   He and his wife started the Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity.  Their mission statement is "Our mission is to combat indifference, intolerance, and injustice through international dialogues and youth focused programs that promote acceptance, understanding and equality.  The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.  The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference.  The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference.  The opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."



If we lose a loved one to a disease, such as cancer, we continue to fight long after the disease has claimed it's victim by doing whatever we need to do to fund research and raise awareness.  I will not pretend to understand these heinous acts committed against innocent people but it makes me feel as though our society today is fighting it's own form of cancer.  The bombing at the Boston Marathon supports the concept that gun control is not the answer to the America's problem with violence.  Restricting access to guns will not cure the disease, it only forces someone to find a different weapon. America's disease stems from an attitude of indifference in a violent culture that has desensitized some people to the pain of others. What I find worrisome is that the bible says that every sin begins with a  thought yet our society is saturated with images of violence and hate.  If you doubt me, just turn on the television.

 However, we have a choice.  We can choose to become victims or we can become victors depending on how we respond to these terrible acts of violence.  As a nation, we must move forward with integrity and be tolerant of the differences but we must also teach tolerance. We must nurture compassion towards others but we must also teach compassion.  As individuals we must avoid indifference by speaking up and letting our voices be heard.  When  we remain silent we send a message of apathetic acceptance but  when we speak up, even of others disagree with us,  we are telling the world that we are not indifferent, we are not in a state of apathetic acceptance, we care, we matter, and the victims matter.

The victims of these violent acts have lost their voice but we have not and when we speak up for what we believe we honor  them and become their voice. Speak up America!   Our words could be the first step towards a positive change.

"There is so much to be done, there is so much that can be done. One person - a Raoul Wallenberg, an Albert Schweitzer, Martin Luther King, Jr. - just one person of integrity, can make a difference, a difference of life and death.

As long as one dissident is in prison, our freedom will not be true. As long as one child is hungry, our life will be filled with anguish and shame. What all these victims need above all is to know that they are not alone; that we are not forgetting them, that when their voices are stifled we shall lend them ours, that while their freedom depends on ours, the quality of our freedom depends on theirs."

Elie Wiesel, Nobel prize speech.