Happy New Year! Are you receiving all kinds of goal and resolution messages? I am! And it is appropriate to aim at a new year with new hopes, dreams, and aspirations. But we can't do that - at least effectively - if we don't first look back at how we met - or didn't quite - our goals from the old year.
As I look back on my 2007 goals - which I keep posted above my desk so they stay in my face - I have to ask myself some questions. What goals did I meet entirely? What did I make progress on? What was an unrealistic goal that led nowhere? What still needs to be done that I have not yet addressed?
Goals met entirely - not many I'm afraid. In fact, were I a tough grader like my 5th grade teacher Mrs. Malone (from whom I learned a lot!), I wouldn't give myself 100% on much. I taught three child care classes, I found other ways to make money, I cultivated professional relationships, bought a new higher resolution camera (when my old one broke on a trip to Arizona) attended my mentor Sid Simon's 80th birthday celebration, got new carpet in my living room, and kayaked the length of Canandaigua Lake! These things I did entirely! Oh - and before the end of the day (which surely counts) I will have completed a family history of my maternal grandparents which I will wrap and pack up tomorrow to be mailed out on Wednesday. Whew! Just under the wire on that one!
I made much progress on a whole host of other goals. I haven't swum 100 miles this year, but I think my count is between 60-70. I didn't get 100% on my goal of exercising 300 minutes a week either, but my annual total (not counting my swim today) was 13,602 minutes which averaged out to be 262 minutes per week. Wow! I did better than I thought I did - and way better than I'd have done without that 300 goal dangling in my face every week!
Another goal I didn't do perfectly, but which still pleases me, is writing something every month for our writers group. It has been such a good goal for me. I've probably written at least four times as much and as often just because I knew I'd be seeing my fellow writers.
And there's a whole long list of goals that I though I'd get to this year but didn't. For some the reasons were beyond my control. Other goals, written in January last year, were supplanted by ideas that held more appeal and doability. And another list - a lot longer than I'd like - fell victim to my propensity to procrastinate.
Still and all, it feels good to look back, knowing that I accomplished more in 2007 because of the goals I set. So my task in the next week is to keep reflecting - on the goals I met and those still unmet. Knowing that much of what happens in my life is not within my control - in the coming year or any other - I need to decide what things I want more of and what things I want less of in my life - and how I might exercise my self-control to get what I want.
As long as I'm doing true confessions about the things I've done and haven't done this year, I might as well confess that this goal-setting business is a bit of a chore every year. I have to psych myself up for it - because I know it's a chore worth doing.
I'll keep you posted on the chore's progress. What's your plan for setting goals in 2008? May you set goals that will stretch you and make 2008 the best year of your life - so far!
Happy and Blessed New Year!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Monday, December 17, 2007
Monday Moment - Dance Around Your Fear
You might remember that back in October I wrote about making an appointment with a podiatrist to deal with some nagging foot pain. Sometimes it takes a little pain to make us aware that it's time to change something. I guess the trick is to not wait till a little pain becomes a lot of pain!
I had my second appointment with my podiatrist today, and as I told him, the pain is probably 60-70% better. He assures me that we can easily get to 85% better - and we can stop treatment when I decide that it's livable.
It's actually livable right now - but why would I settle for just livable when I could get to dance-able? Nope. For me the ability to dance - even if I don't do it nearly as often as I'd like to - is one of the component of livable.
As is not settling for mediocre when excellence is within sights. That's livable!
But of course that's only when I'm in my most evolved state of being. And one of the things that prevents my highest levels of evolution - time and time again - is procrastination. Like putting off making an appointment until my foot hurts - a lot!
Among the long list of excuses I can generate for putting things off is almost always an element of fear. In this case, I had convinced myself that my particular pain wasn't likely to be solved without surgery. And that very idea - or more precisely the fear of that idea - was enough to introduce thoughts of just about any other far more pressing task any time I was about to pick up the phone.
Dumb fear! I heard it once described as False Evidence Appearing Real. I don't even need enough to build a strong case for evidence. Those bricks could be made mostly out of straw and I can still construct enough fear to slam on the brakes on even the smartest idea.
Today's appointment chipped away a little more of my ridiculous habit of fear. No surgery. At most, it's taken a couple moments of discomfort to restore not just livability but dance-ability!
I'm reminded of an idea I read as a teenager - in a silly romance novel. "Granny Tremain's disappearing hills" are the hills that look too steep and too high to climb when we see them coming at us from a distance. But when we get up close, we realize that they aren't so steep, they're not so high, they practically disappear.
I think maybe - for awhile at least - I'll remember that I do not have to settle for fear. Instead - I can dance!
May you dance through your week as well!
I had my second appointment with my podiatrist today, and as I told him, the pain is probably 60-70% better. He assures me that we can easily get to 85% better - and we can stop treatment when I decide that it's livable.
It's actually livable right now - but why would I settle for just livable when I could get to dance-able? Nope. For me the ability to dance - even if I don't do it nearly as often as I'd like to - is one of the component of livable.
As is not settling for mediocre when excellence is within sights. That's livable!
But of course that's only when I'm in my most evolved state of being. And one of the things that prevents my highest levels of evolution - time and time again - is procrastination. Like putting off making an appointment until my foot hurts - a lot!
Among the long list of excuses I can generate for putting things off is almost always an element of fear. In this case, I had convinced myself that my particular pain wasn't likely to be solved without surgery. And that very idea - or more precisely the fear of that idea - was enough to introduce thoughts of just about any other far more pressing task any time I was about to pick up the phone.
Dumb fear! I heard it once described as False Evidence Appearing Real. I don't even need enough to build a strong case for evidence. Those bricks could be made mostly out of straw and I can still construct enough fear to slam on the brakes on even the smartest idea.
Today's appointment chipped away a little more of my ridiculous habit of fear. No surgery. At most, it's taken a couple moments of discomfort to restore not just livability but dance-ability!
I'm reminded of an idea I read as a teenager - in a silly romance novel. "Granny Tremain's disappearing hills" are the hills that look too steep and too high to climb when we see them coming at us from a distance. But when we get up close, we realize that they aren't so steep, they're not so high, they practically disappear.
I think maybe - for awhile at least - I'll remember that I do not have to settle for fear. Instead - I can dance!
May you dance through your week as well!
Monday, December 10, 2007
Monday Moment - To Promote True Peace
This week's Monday Moment is about the health of our planet and is the direct result of my reading a remarkable book titled Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and David Oliver Relin.
I read a lot - for both fun and information - so finding a book I enjoy is no rare thing. I often want to pass along books I've read, but I can't remember a book that inspired sharing quite as much as this one has. I'd like every man and woman in Congress to read it, every soldier, every philanthropist, every American citizen - because I think the true story of how Greg Mortenson has been building schools in the poorest and most remote areas of Pakistan and Afghanistan carries more hope of making America safe than all of the billions we've spent on the Iraq war or homeland security.
Like most Americans, I've been - until now - convinced that Muslims in the world hate us. It's not a huge leap to reach that conclusion. Nearly everything we read talks about basic conflicts of values and the mass production of young men and women who are willing to lose their lives in order to inflict harm on Americans and on those who support us.
But now, I've learned that in places where such distrust and hate might fester, children - boys and more remarkably girls - are having the chance to go to school and to believe - deep in their marrow - that at least one American wants the very best for them. Mortenson's Central Asia Institute builds a school for around $12,000 - and children and their families learn we Americans are not so bad. I call that a great investment!
Perhaps the most gripping thing about Mortenson's story is that he didn't go out seeking his cause. Instead his cause found him. When he found himself stranded in a Pakistani village - and the story of how he got there is pretty fascinating in and of itself - he might have accepted the people's kindness and generosity and been on his way. But when he saw children so eager to learn that they huddled on the ground practicing lessons on their own because they had no teacher - that's when he vowed to return kindness with kindness.
This was an ordinary guy - living a hand-to-mouth existence back in the States - and he had no clue how to go about keeping his promise to children half a world away. He blundered, stumbled, and made mistakes, but he did not, would not, could not give up the goal of helping this one village - despite incredible personal cost. And then one village became dozens until now 24,000 students attend schools that are fully or partially supported by the Central Asia Institute.
I heartily recommend Three Cups of Tea - as a good read and as a lesson in what one person can do to promote peace. I've struggled with what I can do. I haven't - until now - felt that I could win the hearts of Muslims. I've not been able to support what I see as a destructive and counterproductive war, but nor have I been able to stop it. But I certainly can and will support the Central Asia Institute's efforts to offer a balanced education to some of our planet's poorest children.
And I can and do ask you to also read Three Cups of Tea and hope that you will be similarly inspired by its message of hope.
I read a lot - for both fun and information - so finding a book I enjoy is no rare thing. I often want to pass along books I've read, but I can't remember a book that inspired sharing quite as much as this one has. I'd like every man and woman in Congress to read it, every soldier, every philanthropist, every American citizen - because I think the true story of how Greg Mortenson has been building schools in the poorest and most remote areas of Pakistan and Afghanistan carries more hope of making America safe than all of the billions we've spent on the Iraq war or homeland security.
Like most Americans, I've been - until now - convinced that Muslims in the world hate us. It's not a huge leap to reach that conclusion. Nearly everything we read talks about basic conflicts of values and the mass production of young men and women who are willing to lose their lives in order to inflict harm on Americans and on those who support us.
But now, I've learned that in places where such distrust and hate might fester, children - boys and more remarkably girls - are having the chance to go to school and to believe - deep in their marrow - that at least one American wants the very best for them. Mortenson's Central Asia Institute builds a school for around $12,000 - and children and their families learn we Americans are not so bad. I call that a great investment!
Perhaps the most gripping thing about Mortenson's story is that he didn't go out seeking his cause. Instead his cause found him. When he found himself stranded in a Pakistani village - and the story of how he got there is pretty fascinating in and of itself - he might have accepted the people's kindness and generosity and been on his way. But when he saw children so eager to learn that they huddled on the ground practicing lessons on their own because they had no teacher - that's when he vowed to return kindness with kindness.
This was an ordinary guy - living a hand-to-mouth existence back in the States - and he had no clue how to go about keeping his promise to children half a world away. He blundered, stumbled, and made mistakes, but he did not, would not, could not give up the goal of helping this one village - despite incredible personal cost. And then one village became dozens until now 24,000 students attend schools that are fully or partially supported by the Central Asia Institute.
I heartily recommend Three Cups of Tea - as a good read and as a lesson in what one person can do to promote peace. I've struggled with what I can do. I haven't - until now - felt that I could win the hearts of Muslims. I've not been able to support what I see as a destructive and counterproductive war, but nor have I been able to stop it. But I certainly can and will support the Central Asia Institute's efforts to offer a balanced education to some of our planet's poorest children.
And I can and do ask you to also read Three Cups of Tea and hope that you will be similarly inspired by its message of hope.
Monday, December 3, 2007
Monday Moment - Deeper Connections
Yesterday, I ran into some old friends - folks that I used to see nearly every Sunday as we rehearsed for a song and dance variety show but haven't seen in perhaps as many as 5 years. And we live at most 5 miles apart!
It was so good to see them! Standing there in the grocery store, we reminisced about the songs we sang, the people we knew, even the costumes we used to wear. And we did a superficial catch-up... How are you? Have you been well? The kids? How many grandkids now? What are you doing for work?
But superficial connection is about all I can ever accomplish at the grocery store - and I was left feeling warm to have reacquainted myself with my friends' lives but not fully satisfied. It was like eating a candy bar when one is truly hungry. It tastes sweet and lovely, but it doesn't fill one up.
Fortunately - I guess - I've felt this feeling before and have long had a goal to forge deeper connections with people I like and admire. So before our conversation ended yesterday, I pushed us all to agree to get together. But it was more than, "We must get together!" It was, "Let's get together - and let's do it..." I had to do some fast thinking. Will we have time for another engagement before the winter holidays? Will they? Probably not. Hmmm... I don't really know my January calendar yet - but hmmm... not the first weekend, too soon. Not later in the month, I know there's something going on then. Hmmm... "How about the second weekend in January?" I blurted out.
It was a lucky stab at a date. It works for us all - and hooray, there's one more thing to look forward to in 2008! And a reminder to me that the goal of making time for friends - and making the effort to carve into schedules to actually do it - is absolutely a goal that I want on my 2008 list. Next year at this time, I want to look back at a series of connecting gatherings - and not be wondering why I haven't seen people for almost 5 years!
It's easy to let time go by - to think that there's plenty of time ahead. But if I were to start counting my life to come in 5 year intervals, there's not enough time to spend with people I like and admire. Even if I live to 103, if I only get together with some people every 5 years or so, I'm going to be having that same candy bar feeling at the end of my life as I experienced yesterday. Not good enough!
So I'm already off to a good start with a date set for mid January, 2008. And I do believe a lesson has been learned - at least for the time being. For the reminding nudges I need - well, maybe I'll just have to hang out at the grocery store more often!
Wishing you a connected week!
Sally
It was so good to see them! Standing there in the grocery store, we reminisced about the songs we sang, the people we knew, even the costumes we used to wear. And we did a superficial catch-up... How are you? Have you been well? The kids? How many grandkids now? What are you doing for work?
But superficial connection is about all I can ever accomplish at the grocery store - and I was left feeling warm to have reacquainted myself with my friends' lives but not fully satisfied. It was like eating a candy bar when one is truly hungry. It tastes sweet and lovely, but it doesn't fill one up.
Fortunately - I guess - I've felt this feeling before and have long had a goal to forge deeper connections with people I like and admire. So before our conversation ended yesterday, I pushed us all to agree to get together. But it was more than, "We must get together!" It was, "Let's get together - and let's do it..." I had to do some fast thinking. Will we have time for another engagement before the winter holidays? Will they? Probably not. Hmmm... I don't really know my January calendar yet - but hmmm... not the first weekend, too soon. Not later in the month, I know there's something going on then. Hmmm... "How about the second weekend in January?" I blurted out.
It was a lucky stab at a date. It works for us all - and hooray, there's one more thing to look forward to in 2008! And a reminder to me that the goal of making time for friends - and making the effort to carve into schedules to actually do it - is absolutely a goal that I want on my 2008 list. Next year at this time, I want to look back at a series of connecting gatherings - and not be wondering why I haven't seen people for almost 5 years!
It's easy to let time go by - to think that there's plenty of time ahead. But if I were to start counting my life to come in 5 year intervals, there's not enough time to spend with people I like and admire. Even if I live to 103, if I only get together with some people every 5 years or so, I'm going to be having that same candy bar feeling at the end of my life as I experienced yesterday. Not good enough!
So I'm already off to a good start with a date set for mid January, 2008. And I do believe a lesson has been learned - at least for the time being. For the reminding nudges I need - well, maybe I'll just have to hang out at the grocery store more often!
Wishing you a connected week!
Sally
Monday, November 26, 2007
Monday Moment - Shopping Choices
again - rampant consumerism time!
Oh, does that sound cynical? About the holidays themselves - and most of the trimmings too - I really am not of a cynical nature. I love the glow of decorations, the music, the festive gatherings of friends and family, and much more. I even love the spirit of giving and have long been convinced that the packages under the tree are some of the prettiest decorations in my whole house.
But. What I don't love is the rampant consumerism that began to be encouraged in my community right around the second week in October. I understand that retailers rely on holiday spending for their well-being - but haven't things been getting out of hand? Just last week I noticed a little rush when I handed over some cash for a non-necessary small indulgence. What is that about? Is that who I want to be?
This year, two ideas keep inserting themselves in my head.
One is a story that I heard about a family in California who took a pledge to not buy anything new - other than food and necessary consumables - for a whole year. They began in January 2007 flushed with excitement and in a pique of disgust over the excess they experienced during the holidays of 2006. By mid-year they were still feeling proud and glad they'd made the pledge - though it was becoming more and more challenging. With the holidays and every bit of the print, broadcast, and internet media focused on getting us to buy, buy, buy - well I wonder how they're doing now.
And I wonder if I could - or would want to - do what they did?
The second idea came from my pal Ray. As we drove through our small downtown, he said, "You know what the Chamber of Commerce should do? They should challenge us to do all our holiday shopping downtown - and then they should ask us what we wanted to find but couldn't in the stores that are available."
Hmmm... Now there's another interesting thought. After all, our community retailers - undoubtedly like your own - are always reminding us that buying locally is a good idea - and it's something I do believe. But as I scan my shopping requirements, I wonder. Can I find what I want to find in our relatively small assortment of stores? Certainly, I'll pay more for some things than I would in those big box stores. That's one of the disadvantages of small, independently owned stores. But would I save by not driving to those big boxes? Probably.
Would it be less stressful and more fun to shop in familiar stores where I might see neighbors and friends? Oh Probably! Would I - and the people for whom I shop - benefit from a more focused product selection? Well, I'm not sure yet.
And I haven't decided yet what I'll do this year to avoid letting rampant consumerism take over my holiday season. Either of these two ideas - not shopping at all or only shopping locally - seem like they might be too extreme for my requirements. This year - as I've done in other years - I'll satisfy most of my gifting requirements with home-mades like family histories, ornaments, and such. But for those things I feel a need to buy outright - well, I don't yet know what approach I'll take. What I do know is that these two ideas will be in my head filtering all my choices - and now they'll be in your head too!
Oh, does that sound cynical? About the holidays themselves - and most of the trimmings too - I really am not of a cynical nature. I love the glow of decorations, the music, the festive gatherings of friends and family, and much more. I even love the spirit of giving and have long been convinced that the packages under the tree are some of the prettiest decorations in my whole house.
But. What I don't love is the rampant consumerism that began to be encouraged in my community right around the second week in October. I understand that retailers rely on holiday spending for their well-being - but haven't things been getting out of hand? Just last week I noticed a little rush when I handed over some cash for a non-necessary small indulgence. What is that about? Is that who I want to be?
This year, two ideas keep inserting themselves in my head.
One is a story that I heard about a family in California who took a pledge to not buy anything new - other than food and necessary consumables - for a whole year. They began in January 2007 flushed with excitement and in a pique of disgust over the excess they experienced during the holidays of 2006. By mid-year they were still feeling proud and glad they'd made the pledge - though it was becoming more and more challenging. With the holidays and every bit of the print, broadcast, and internet media focused on getting us to buy, buy, buy - well I wonder how they're doing now.
And I wonder if I could - or would want to - do what they did?
The second idea came from my pal Ray. As we drove through our small downtown, he said, "You know what the Chamber of Commerce should do? They should challenge us to do all our holiday shopping downtown - and then they should ask us what we wanted to find but couldn't in the stores that are available."
Hmmm... Now there's another interesting thought. After all, our community retailers - undoubtedly like your own - are always reminding us that buying locally is a good idea - and it's something I do believe. But as I scan my shopping requirements, I wonder. Can I find what I want to find in our relatively small assortment of stores? Certainly, I'll pay more for some things than I would in those big box stores. That's one of the disadvantages of small, independently owned stores. But would I save by not driving to those big boxes? Probably.
Would it be less stressful and more fun to shop in familiar stores where I might see neighbors and friends? Oh Probably! Would I - and the people for whom I shop - benefit from a more focused product selection? Well, I'm not sure yet.
And I haven't decided yet what I'll do this year to avoid letting rampant consumerism take over my holiday season. Either of these two ideas - not shopping at all or only shopping locally - seem like they might be too extreme for my requirements. This year - as I've done in other years - I'll satisfy most of my gifting requirements with home-mades like family histories, ornaments, and such. But for those things I feel a need to buy outright - well, I don't yet know what approach I'll take. What I do know is that these two ideas will be in my head filtering all my choices - and now they'll be in your head too!
Monday, November 19, 2007
Monday Moment - Joyful, Thankful, and Glad
"God would like us to be joyful even when our hearts lie panting on the floor! How much more should we be joyful when we really have something to be joyful for?"
That's a favorite line from a favorite song from a favorite Broadway show. The song, 'L'Chaim,' the musical, Fiddler on the Roof. And in my more evolved moments, it's more than a line from a song. It's a mantra for my life - to help remind me to keep joy and thanksgiving in my being.
I'm a person who seems to need a lot of such mantras. Another is "In all things, give thanks." Had I been paying attention in Sunday School or more rigorously practiced my religious upbringing, I'd be able to quote chapter and verse where this particular mantra shows up in the Bible. My adult awareness of this mantra came, however, from reading one of Jan Karon's wonderful novels in the Mitford Series. Father Tim, an Episcopal priest, knows he has much to be thankful for, but still feels mired in depression - until he remembers that the verse is not 'In some things give thanks.' When he comes to the realization that he must also find a way to be thankful for the depression itself, the weight lifts.
Which reminds me of yet another model for living - Pollyanna herself. Now I'm of the opinion that Pollyanna has been given a bad rap in our cynical popular culture. Have you read this wonderful book by Eleanor H. Porter? Or do you, like others I know, simply disparage those who persistently work to find something positive in every situation? If you've read the book, you'll know that Pollyanna doesn't have an easy life. She's orphaned and left in the care of a stiff-necked maiden aunt who doesn't want her and tries to prevent her from leading a normal childhood. She takes a terrible fall that might paralyze or kill her - and through it all, she's able to find something, some tiny kernel about which to feel glad. You might call that sappy, but I call it inspired!
Today I'm joyful, glad, and thankful about dozens upon dozens of things - including these literary mantras that remind me to make Thanksgiving as a life-long pursuit. I'm thankful for turkey and cranberries and all the trimmings as well! I often think that the traditional Thanksgiving meal is far too tasty to eat just once a year - and with Tevye, Father Tim, and Pollyanna as my mantra mentors, I hope I'll eat life with as much joyful, thankful, gladness as I'll dig into that turkey on Thursday!
I hope you do too!
That's a favorite line from a favorite song from a favorite Broadway show. The song, 'L'Chaim,' the musical, Fiddler on the Roof. And in my more evolved moments, it's more than a line from a song. It's a mantra for my life - to help remind me to keep joy and thanksgiving in my being.
I'm a person who seems to need a lot of such mantras. Another is "In all things, give thanks." Had I been paying attention in Sunday School or more rigorously practiced my religious upbringing, I'd be able to quote chapter and verse where this particular mantra shows up in the Bible. My adult awareness of this mantra came, however, from reading one of Jan Karon's wonderful novels in the Mitford Series. Father Tim, an Episcopal priest, knows he has much to be thankful for, but still feels mired in depression - until he remembers that the verse is not 'In some things give thanks.' When he comes to the realization that he must also find a way to be thankful for the depression itself, the weight lifts.
Which reminds me of yet another model for living - Pollyanna herself. Now I'm of the opinion that Pollyanna has been given a bad rap in our cynical popular culture. Have you read this wonderful book by Eleanor H. Porter? Or do you, like others I know, simply disparage those who persistently work to find something positive in every situation? If you've read the book, you'll know that Pollyanna doesn't have an easy life. She's orphaned and left in the care of a stiff-necked maiden aunt who doesn't want her and tries to prevent her from leading a normal childhood. She takes a terrible fall that might paralyze or kill her - and through it all, she's able to find something, some tiny kernel about which to feel glad. You might call that sappy, but I call it inspired!
Today I'm joyful, glad, and thankful about dozens upon dozens of things - including these literary mantras that remind me to make Thanksgiving as a life-long pursuit. I'm thankful for turkey and cranberries and all the trimmings as well! I often think that the traditional Thanksgiving meal is far too tasty to eat just once a year - and with Tevye, Father Tim, and Pollyanna as my mantra mentors, I hope I'll eat life with as much joyful, thankful, gladness as I'll dig into that turkey on Thursday!
I hope you do too!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Monday Moment - Be Good to Your Foot!
Before sending out today's moment, I've taken more than a few moments to try and locate a particular quote that seems to sum up my thinking from the last week. It took just a little doing, but here it is.
“If you want to forget all your other troubles, wear too tight shoes.”
Aha! Indeed today's moment is all about being good to your foot! The inspiration? You guessed it. I spent some time in too tight shoes!
Actually, I wouldn't say my shoes were truly too tight. It was more that they were what I call 'grown-up' shoes - and my feet prefer to remain in childhood.
I have actually arranged my life so I don't wear grown-up shoes very often. When I do, I wonder if my feet might feel better if I were used to them. But then I think that I'm clearly just not used to pain - and after all is pain something I truly desire to get used to? NOT!
Like most women, I admire the look of a lovely shoe - and stand (though I'd prefer to sit) in awe of women who seem to wear heels - or pointy toes or some other apparent form of torture - as if it were nothing. But I'm not a woman who seems able to pull off that appearance of ease. I'd like to. But it just ain't happening!
So I've started a new motto - I choose to be good to my foot. I've abused my feet enough in ridiculous shoes - and now I choose to heal what's left of my aching feet.
As per William James who said if you want to make a change, you should do it immediately, flamboyantly, and make no exceptions - I made an appointment with a podiatrist this very day. I've noticed more than what I think of as the usual discomfort in even moderately grown-up shoes - enough that my ability to exercise has begun to be compromised.
I've tried the usual strategies - denial, sloth, shopping - and none have alleviated the pain to meet my satisfaction. So now I'm going to put my feet into the hands of an expert. I expect to get expert treatment, a list of things I can do to make my feet feel better, and expert advice on shoes.
I expect that when my feet feel better, life will look a lot more pleasant and I might just be a nicer person. Maybe you'd like to join me. Be good to your foot!
“If you want to forget all your other troubles, wear too tight shoes.”
Aha! Indeed today's moment is all about being good to your foot! The inspiration? You guessed it. I spent some time in too tight shoes!
Actually, I wouldn't say my shoes were truly too tight. It was more that they were what I call 'grown-up' shoes - and my feet prefer to remain in childhood.
I have actually arranged my life so I don't wear grown-up shoes very often. When I do, I wonder if my feet might feel better if I were used to them. But then I think that I'm clearly just not used to pain - and after all is pain something I truly desire to get used to? NOT!
Like most women, I admire the look of a lovely shoe - and stand (though I'd prefer to sit) in awe of women who seem to wear heels - or pointy toes or some other apparent form of torture - as if it were nothing. But I'm not a woman who seems able to pull off that appearance of ease. I'd like to. But it just ain't happening!
So I've started a new motto - I choose to be good to my foot. I've abused my feet enough in ridiculous shoes - and now I choose to heal what's left of my aching feet.
As per William James who said if you want to make a change, you should do it immediately, flamboyantly, and make no exceptions - I made an appointment with a podiatrist this very day. I've noticed more than what I think of as the usual discomfort in even moderately grown-up shoes - enough that my ability to exercise has begun to be compromised.
I've tried the usual strategies - denial, sloth, shopping - and none have alleviated the pain to meet my satisfaction. So now I'm going to put my feet into the hands of an expert. I expect to get expert treatment, a list of things I can do to make my feet feel better, and expert advice on shoes.
I expect that when my feet feel better, life will look a lot more pleasant and I might just be a nicer person. Maybe you'd like to join me. Be good to your foot!
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Monday Moment - Put Fear at Bay
To throw a party and nobody comes. That's a nagging little fear that I'd love to banish from my life forevermore. I haven't found the secret, but I'm working on it!
This particular fear is in my mind this week because after months of planning, organizing, soliciting, and inviting, will be our Partnership for Ontario County's Auction for Kids' Sake. The Partnership's Board has been telling me ever since I started working with them last April that fundraising needs to be my primary focus. So the auction is my responsibility - the party that I'm throwing this coming Thursday.
It's a party that has been thrown before - with at least a reasonable success. It's my job to turn that reasonable success into a BIG success.
From the beginning, it's been clear that we had two tasks - solicit great stuff to auction off and get the right people in the room who want to buy what we've gathered.
I set ambitious goals for both tasks. I wanted to double the value of what we have to sell - and though we haven't yet met the goal, we've been getting closer. And I wanted to double the number of people in the room - which I won't know if we'll achieve until Thursday. Hence the nagging little fear's invitation back into my soul.
As with other things I can't control, I'm trying to not obsess. The Board and I have done what we can to advertise, publicize, and make people aware of what we're doing. And though I'll keep doing that right up to show time, I can't really control how many people will actually show up. I'd love to feel confident and sure - and still there's that nagging fear.
So that's my head-work this week - to put the fear into its place and not let it sabotage my confidence, to fully celebrate the successes that we have and will achieve - even if my own ambitious goals are not fully realized. And to learn and grow from whatever happens - which is ever so much more likely if I can push the fear aside.
Yup, that's the work. Wish me luck!
This particular fear is in my mind this week because after months of planning, organizing, soliciting, and inviting, will be our Partnership for Ontario County's Auction for Kids' Sake. The Partnership's Board has been telling me ever since I started working with them last April that fundraising needs to be my primary focus. So the auction is my responsibility - the party that I'm throwing this coming Thursday.
It's a party that has been thrown before - with at least a reasonable success. It's my job to turn that reasonable success into a BIG success.
From the beginning, it's been clear that we had two tasks - solicit great stuff to auction off and get the right people in the room who want to buy what we've gathered.
I set ambitious goals for both tasks. I wanted to double the value of what we have to sell - and though we haven't yet met the goal, we've been getting closer. And I wanted to double the number of people in the room - which I won't know if we'll achieve until Thursday. Hence the nagging little fear's invitation back into my soul.
As with other things I can't control, I'm trying to not obsess. The Board and I have done what we can to advertise, publicize, and make people aware of what we're doing. And though I'll keep doing that right up to show time, I can't really control how many people will actually show up. I'd love to feel confident and sure - and still there's that nagging fear.
So that's my head-work this week - to put the fear into its place and not let it sabotage my confidence, to fully celebrate the successes that we have and will achieve - even if my own ambitious goals are not fully realized. And to learn and grow from whatever happens - which is ever so much more likely if I can push the fear aside.
Yup, that's the work. Wish me luck!
Monday, October 1, 2007
Monday Moment - Self-Righteous Home Improvement
In the last week, I've deviated from my standard 300 minutes of intentional exercise - and counted activity that wasn't precisely exercise but focused instead on cleaning up, hoeing out, and entirely emptying my living room. Why? Because even as I write two guys are laying brand new carpet in said living room!
I am - and have been - nearly drooling in anticipation of how much new, clean flooring will make in that room and in my outlook. Said anticipation has fueled the energy required to do all the above - which as any who know me will testify is not at all my preferred use of time.
I detest cleaning, am genetically predisposed to pack-rattery, and therefore feel a nagging sort of implied criticism bombarding me from the vast populations more organized than I, more concerned with impeccable housekeeping, and too often self-righteously asserting that life is better when lived in simplicity. Bah Humbug!
From Feng Shui to the outbreak of professional organizers, my 'holier-than-thou' detection system gets a workout these days. 'Get rid of clutter and you'll feel better,' they proclaim. Blah, blah, blah! For me, the result rarely justifies the cost of the work.
So imagine my disgust when in fact, my anticipation of a bright fresh living room does include a wish for less clutter when it all gets put back together. My head is full of ways to eliminate, reduce, or hide a lot of the stuff that came out of the room - and the anticipation includes feeling good about a simpler living space. Rats! I hate it when I have to agree with the self-righteous!
And yet, I won't miss the stacks (and stacks) of magazines that I recycled. (I've stopped all but one subscription and stop off in the library's periodical room when I need a mag-fix.) I'll be pleased to finish off a few crafty projects that I no longer wish to own myself but that might bring a few dollars in a fundraising auction I'm organizing for our drug and alcohol prevention coalition. I'll be excited to display the things that hold true meaning for me - in ways that will allow them to be more fully seen and appreciated. Rats! I do hate it when the self-righteous are also right!
Of course I'm full of plans just now, and I'm certain that when I achieve those plans, I will feel a calm and self-righteous satisfaction. I'm also certain that my pack-ratting instincts will not be expunged from my being - and nor would I be happy if they were. I am a person who likes her stuff - and always will. The self-righteous can just step aside, because I can arouse a fair and righteous attitude about my stuff my own self!
Minimalism is not and never will be my goal, but a greater sense of balance is. For that one room - if not all through my home - I pledge to give, sell, and pitch some of the contents that have heretofore filled that space. I'm putting my house in order - and I'm feeling quite self-righteous about it, I must say!
I am - and have been - nearly drooling in anticipation of how much new, clean flooring will make in that room and in my outlook. Said anticipation has fueled the energy required to do all the above - which as any who know me will testify is not at all my preferred use of time.
I detest cleaning, am genetically predisposed to pack-rattery, and therefore feel a nagging sort of implied criticism bombarding me from the vast populations more organized than I, more concerned with impeccable housekeeping, and too often self-righteously asserting that life is better when lived in simplicity. Bah Humbug!
From Feng Shui to the outbreak of professional organizers, my 'holier-than-thou' detection system gets a workout these days. 'Get rid of clutter and you'll feel better,' they proclaim. Blah, blah, blah! For me, the result rarely justifies the cost of the work.
So imagine my disgust when in fact, my anticipation of a bright fresh living room does include a wish for less clutter when it all gets put back together. My head is full of ways to eliminate, reduce, or hide a lot of the stuff that came out of the room - and the anticipation includes feeling good about a simpler living space. Rats! I hate it when I have to agree with the self-righteous!
And yet, I won't miss the stacks (and stacks) of magazines that I recycled. (I've stopped all but one subscription and stop off in the library's periodical room when I need a mag-fix.) I'll be pleased to finish off a few crafty projects that I no longer wish to own myself but that might bring a few dollars in a fundraising auction I'm organizing for our drug and alcohol prevention coalition. I'll be excited to display the things that hold true meaning for me - in ways that will allow them to be more fully seen and appreciated. Rats! I do hate it when the self-righteous are also right!
Of course I'm full of plans just now, and I'm certain that when I achieve those plans, I will feel a calm and self-righteous satisfaction. I'm also certain that my pack-ratting instincts will not be expunged from my being - and nor would I be happy if they were. I am a person who likes her stuff - and always will. The self-righteous can just step aside, because I can arouse a fair and righteous attitude about my stuff my own self!
Minimalism is not and never will be my goal, but a greater sense of balance is. For that one room - if not all through my home - I pledge to give, sell, and pitch some of the contents that have heretofore filled that space. I'm putting my house in order - and I'm feeling quite self-righteous about it, I must say!
Monday Moment - The Tastes of Summer
I'm up to my neck in tomatoes. Or at least it seems that way, and I can't find it in me to complain.
Too many years, my tomatoes didn't really begin to ripen here in upstate NY until nearly September - and then we might get a frost by the middle of the month. Such results can make for a frustrated gardener!
But this year, a combination of factors means we've had more tomatoes in the garden than ever before. First, I've learned to choose varieties that have a 60-75 day ripening time frame. We can get frost here as late as May 30 so we really need fast tomato plants! Second, we had a hot summer. It was dry, but I've got a good watering system so my tomato plants were pretty happy campers. And third, we've had a summer that just won't quit - a very happy thing for tomato growers and for those of us whose denial about fall is so strong that we refuse to wear socks until at least October!
So I have a lot more tomatoes on the vine than two people can eat fresh - and my domesticity limits definitely include NO CANNING! I had to help my mom can tomatoes when I was a kid, and as much as I'd like those quart jars on my pantry shelves, it's not something I'm going to do, thank you very much!
But I will make salsa. It's a great way to use cherry and grape sized tomatoes, and yesterday I threw in lots of yellows and reds too (all from just 5 plants). Add some onion, a peach for sweetness, basil and cilantro fresh from the garden, a handful of jalepeno peppers (I buy those because if you set out 6 plants as they usually come, you might grow enough jalepenos to heat an entire city.) and a few serrano peppers from the garden. My food processor helps - and voila`, we have salsa - enough for today and enough to freeze for another day when the memory of summer needs a little jolt.
Just for fun, I looked up nutritional content for tomatoes and found - not surprisingly that they are an amazing food. Look for yourself at http://www.nutritiondata.com/facts-C00001-01c20lf.html. But you already knew all that didn't you? They're high in vitamins C and A, Potassium and Manganese - and remarkably low in calories.
But more than anything else, a juicy ripe tomato just tastes like summer! It's a flavor to savor as we do these beautiful sunny days that we know will sooner or later give way to shiver-filled winter. So please do excuse me now. I have another big basket of summer to savor!
Too many years, my tomatoes didn't really begin to ripen here in upstate NY until nearly September - and then we might get a frost by the middle of the month. Such results can make for a frustrated gardener!
But this year, a combination of factors means we've had more tomatoes in the garden than ever before. First, I've learned to choose varieties that have a 60-75 day ripening time frame. We can get frost here as late as May 30 so we really need fast tomato plants! Second, we had a hot summer. It was dry, but I've got a good watering system so my tomato plants were pretty happy campers. And third, we've had a summer that just won't quit - a very happy thing for tomato growers and for those of us whose denial about fall is so strong that we refuse to wear socks until at least October!
So I have a lot more tomatoes on the vine than two people can eat fresh - and my domesticity limits definitely include NO CANNING! I had to help my mom can tomatoes when I was a kid, and as much as I'd like those quart jars on my pantry shelves, it's not something I'm going to do, thank you very much!
But I will make salsa. It's a great way to use cherry and grape sized tomatoes, and yesterday I threw in lots of yellows and reds too (all from just 5 plants). Add some onion, a peach for sweetness, basil and cilantro fresh from the garden, a handful of jalepeno peppers (I buy those because if you set out 6 plants as they usually come, you might grow enough jalepenos to heat an entire city.) and a few serrano peppers from the garden. My food processor helps - and voila`, we have salsa - enough for today and enough to freeze for another day when the memory of summer needs a little jolt.
Just for fun, I looked up nutritional content for tomatoes and found - not surprisingly that they are an amazing food. Look for yourself at http://www.nutritiondata.com/facts-C00001-01c20lf.html. But you already knew all that didn't you? They're high in vitamins C and A, Potassium and Manganese - and remarkably low in calories.
But more than anything else, a juicy ripe tomato just tastes like summer! It's a flavor to savor as we do these beautiful sunny days that we know will sooner or later give way to shiver-filled winter. So please do excuse me now. I have another big basket of summer to savor!
Monday, September 17, 2007
Monday Moment - Smoother Sailing
"Do you want to know the secret of staying together?"
That's what the old sailor said just after we admired his 17-foot catamaran. As you can imagine, it was the kind of question that caught our attention.
We glanced quickly at each other and said - in unison - "Yeah! That's something we'd like to know!"
"It's simple," said the old salt. He looked at me. "You've got to make him think that you think he's a ten. In every way. In looks, brains, money, sex - everything."
He turned. "And you. You've got to make her think that you think she's a ten. All the time. Because the reality is sometimes you're going to be an asshole, and," he turned back to me. "You'll be a bitch."
"But you make him think you think he's a ten, and you make her think you think she's a ten - and you'll stay together."
"And then, whatever happens after that - it's not my fault."
Well I'm not usually a fan of unsolicited advice. In fact, one of the things we've been told is that sailors generally are friendly, but they aren't forward. They'll be glad to help and make suggestions when you ask, but they don't usually offer advice until you ask.
Apparently the 'friendly but not forward' sailors' creed is not one that our old guy ascribes to - and I have to say that his directive (because it was delivered in a far more 'thou shalt' manner than 'you might want to consider...') will ring in my ears for a long, long time.
It's so easy to get into negative habits of thinking about one's partner. Tiny disappointments can blossom into full blown animosity with darned little provocation in the daily dailiness of living with another human being. One person's failure to live up to unreasonable expectations can give the other a whole arsenal of ammunition to hurl right back.
Which reminds me of another gem of an idea that I learned long ago. If we'd think about our relationship as an actual boat - a relation-ship, we'd remember that while we're sitting in the same boat, it's not smart to hurl bombs back and forth at each other. At least not if we want that boat to stay afloat!
So much smarter to hurl "I think you're amazing and here's why!" I think our old salt is on to something, and I pledge - yes, again - to get my guy to think that I think he's a ten! I'm betting on smoother sailing in this relation-ship!
That's what the old sailor said just after we admired his 17-foot catamaran. As you can imagine, it was the kind of question that caught our attention.
We glanced quickly at each other and said - in unison - "Yeah! That's something we'd like to know!"
"It's simple," said the old salt. He looked at me. "You've got to make him think that you think he's a ten. In every way. In looks, brains, money, sex - everything."
He turned. "And you. You've got to make her think that you think she's a ten. All the time. Because the reality is sometimes you're going to be an asshole, and," he turned back to me. "You'll be a bitch."
"But you make him think you think he's a ten, and you make her think you think she's a ten - and you'll stay together."
"And then, whatever happens after that - it's not my fault."
Well I'm not usually a fan of unsolicited advice. In fact, one of the things we've been told is that sailors generally are friendly, but they aren't forward. They'll be glad to help and make suggestions when you ask, but they don't usually offer advice until you ask.
Apparently the 'friendly but not forward' sailors' creed is not one that our old guy ascribes to - and I have to say that his directive (because it was delivered in a far more 'thou shalt' manner than 'you might want to consider...') will ring in my ears for a long, long time.
It's so easy to get into negative habits of thinking about one's partner. Tiny disappointments can blossom into full blown animosity with darned little provocation in the daily dailiness of living with another human being. One person's failure to live up to unreasonable expectations can give the other a whole arsenal of ammunition to hurl right back.
Which reminds me of another gem of an idea that I learned long ago. If we'd think about our relationship as an actual boat - a relation-ship, we'd remember that while we're sitting in the same boat, it's not smart to hurl bombs back and forth at each other. At least not if we want that boat to stay afloat!
So much smarter to hurl "I think you're amazing and here's why!" I think our old salt is on to something, and I pledge - yes, again - to get my guy to think that I think he's a ten! I'm betting on smoother sailing in this relation-ship!
Monday, September 3, 2007
Monday Moment - Labor Day Weekend
Don't you love a three-day weekend? I do. Even when you have a lot on your calendar, it seems like it's more relaxing because you've got an extra day to do it all in.
It seems particularly nice at this time of year since it helps me transition from summer into my denial that fall and winter are coming. Oh I'll still be in denial for a good long while, but even so, I'm glad to have this transition day to anticipate the good things about the fall.
And there are lots of good things about fall. We'll have more summer harvest to enjoy along with apples, soups, casseroles - lots of tasty things we didn't want to heat up the kitchen with this summer. There will be crisp days, the bright colors of mums and leaves along with more muted and still lovely colors of fading flowers. Cider, fires in the fireplace, cozy sweaters, and a different rhythm to our work and play life. Lots of good things.
That's where I'm going to try to keep my focus - on the good things to come. Surely that will ease the melancholy I often feel in the fall - already missing the good things of summer. It's all good.
More next week... In the meantime, have a wonderful third day of your three-day weekend!
It seems particularly nice at this time of year since it helps me transition from summer into my denial that fall and winter are coming. Oh I'll still be in denial for a good long while, but even so, I'm glad to have this transition day to anticipate the good things about the fall.
And there are lots of good things about fall. We'll have more summer harvest to enjoy along with apples, soups, casseroles - lots of tasty things we didn't want to heat up the kitchen with this summer. There will be crisp days, the bright colors of mums and leaves along with more muted and still lovely colors of fading flowers. Cider, fires in the fireplace, cozy sweaters, and a different rhythm to our work and play life. Lots of good things.
That's where I'm going to try to keep my focus - on the good things to come. Surely that will ease the melancholy I often feel in the fall - already missing the good things of summer. It's all good.
More next week... In the meantime, have a wonderful third day of your three-day weekend!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Monday Moment - Choices Trump Limits
Yesterday Ray and I went sailing and this morning I went for a kayak paddle. Life is so good! It's a beautiful time of year in a beautiful place.
This morning it occurred to me that this year - more than any other before - I have really claimed my place here in the Finger Lakes. Life is good!
And yet, my morning's appreciation was tinged with just a little regret. I have lived in this beautiful part of the world for nearly 30 years - and just now am feeling 'that Finger Lakes feeling'? What's that about?
Clearly for me, being on the water has had an enormous role in making me feel gloriously and thrillingly at home here in a way I never have before. I've really taken advantage of living near a lake this year - way more than any other summer up till now. And I started wondering just why it took me so long - when I clearly enjoy my time on the water so very much.
What I realized is that for many of the 29 years I've lived here, I got into the habit of thinking that other people had opportunities to sail or kayak or live on the water. Other people were born here. Their families bought lakefront property before it was outrageously priced, and therefore they naturally learned to sail and boat and do things that a person from landlocked Illinois hadn't learned. Other people had more time to really enjoy summer than a person who managed a children's camp as I did the first 12 years I lived here. Other people made a lot more money than I did - or do or ever will. Other people had family, partners, or friends who'd support them in trying out new water sports than I happened to have. Somehow a lot of the joys and privileges of Finger Lakes living was reserved for other people instead of for me.
Except of course that other people never stopped me from fully enjoying water sports. Nope. The one person that stopped me was me!
Now I wouldn't want to give the impression that I never found ways to enjoy our lake till this year. I swam and went to our public beaches often. I took sailboarding lessons, I've rented boats and taken numerous boat tours. I've been out on boats with friends. I even remember sitting on a beach on a gorgeous day and saying to my companion, "It just doesn't get any better than this!"
But I'm thrilled to say that it does! And it has!
From the perspective of hind sight, I feel now that until this year I acted a bit more like a tourist on our lake than a person who lives here! And the difference? It's all been about the choices I made this year - to paddle my kayak a lot more than ever before and to sail.
And here's the kick in the teeth. Neither of those choices was out of my reach - not really - in any of the 29 years I've lived here!
Oh it's undeniably easier now. There are still a lot of other people with more money than I - but I have a lot more now than I used to have. I have a partner who shares my love of the water and who has skills that I don't have and which really help get us out there. I can arrange my own schedule now in ways that were not always my perogative.
But all those things only make my choices easier - not possible. What makes the choices possible is me - my determination to get as much life from life as I can, my self-discipline that pushes me to follow through on wishes and desires, and the emerging refusal to believe in self-deluding limits that I have imposed upon myself!
I'd like to say I'm done with self-imposed limits in every arena of my life, but I have learned just how pervasive and insidiously convincing limits in my head can be. What I do say - as of this very instant - I am a person who strives to examine every limit she puts upon herself and to blast away those that might prevent me from enjoying anything at all that I might think other people are only allowed to enjoy. This I solemly pledge!
This morning it occurred to me that this year - more than any other before - I have really claimed my place here in the Finger Lakes. Life is good!
And yet, my morning's appreciation was tinged with just a little regret. I have lived in this beautiful part of the world for nearly 30 years - and just now am feeling 'that Finger Lakes feeling'? What's that about?
Clearly for me, being on the water has had an enormous role in making me feel gloriously and thrillingly at home here in a way I never have before. I've really taken advantage of living near a lake this year - way more than any other summer up till now. And I started wondering just why it took me so long - when I clearly enjoy my time on the water so very much.
What I realized is that for many of the 29 years I've lived here, I got into the habit of thinking that other people had opportunities to sail or kayak or live on the water. Other people were born here. Their families bought lakefront property before it was outrageously priced, and therefore they naturally learned to sail and boat and do things that a person from landlocked Illinois hadn't learned. Other people had more time to really enjoy summer than a person who managed a children's camp as I did the first 12 years I lived here. Other people made a lot more money than I did - or do or ever will. Other people had family, partners, or friends who'd support them in trying out new water sports than I happened to have. Somehow a lot of the joys and privileges of Finger Lakes living was reserved for other people instead of for me.
Except of course that other people never stopped me from fully enjoying water sports. Nope. The one person that stopped me was me!
Now I wouldn't want to give the impression that I never found ways to enjoy our lake till this year. I swam and went to our public beaches often. I took sailboarding lessons, I've rented boats and taken numerous boat tours. I've been out on boats with friends. I even remember sitting on a beach on a gorgeous day and saying to my companion, "It just doesn't get any better than this!"
But I'm thrilled to say that it does! And it has!
From the perspective of hind sight, I feel now that until this year I acted a bit more like a tourist on our lake than a person who lives here! And the difference? It's all been about the choices I made this year - to paddle my kayak a lot more than ever before and to sail.
And here's the kick in the teeth. Neither of those choices was out of my reach - not really - in any of the 29 years I've lived here!
Oh it's undeniably easier now. There are still a lot of other people with more money than I - but I have a lot more now than I used to have. I have a partner who shares my love of the water and who has skills that I don't have and which really help get us out there. I can arrange my own schedule now in ways that were not always my perogative.
But all those things only make my choices easier - not possible. What makes the choices possible is me - my determination to get as much life from life as I can, my self-discipline that pushes me to follow through on wishes and desires, and the emerging refusal to believe in self-deluding limits that I have imposed upon myself!
I'd like to say I'm done with self-imposed limits in every arena of my life, but I have learned just how pervasive and insidiously convincing limits in my head can be. What I do say - as of this very instant - I am a person who strives to examine every limit she puts upon herself and to blast away those that might prevent me from enjoying anything at all that I might think other people are only allowed to enjoy. This I solemly pledge!
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Monday Moment - Getting Rid of the Weeds
Is this freaking you out because you can't remember if this is actually Monday or Tuesday? Hmmm.... You're right. It's actually Tuesday. I'm a day late - and way more than a dollar short! But better a day late than not at all - that's what I decided this week.
This week I can say that I'm a sailor. Ray and I have now been out twice in our new-to-us-but-over-twenty-years-old 14-footer. I read in the paper that twice out and you can call yourself a sailor. How fun is that?
You've already heard lots of metaphors from my lake-long paddle and the getting ready for it. It seems like metaphors for life blossom when one is on the water. Maybe there's time for reflection that doesn't happen quite the same way on land, maybe there's something about the water that makes me ponder, maybe I'm just more aware. Whatever the reason, here's another one that occurred to me in reference to our first and second sailing expeditions.
We have two places we can launch our sailboat on our end of Canandaigua Lake. One is along a brook that feeds into the lake - which requires that you get your boat in the water and then paddle, row, or motor a distance of a hundred yards or so before you can hoist the sail. (I love using words like hoist!) The other is a more open harbor. There you can put your boat in the water, tie up at a dock and hoist your sails. Depending on the wind that day - and your ability to dodge all the moored boats in the harbor, you can sail right out of the harbor. But there's no guarantee that the wind will still be favorable when you need to come back into the harbor.
The question of getting out to the water and back to land again served as a considerable block in our thinking about a boat. Paddling looked like too big a job, we wanted to avoid the motor, and Ray likes to row. So when we found a boat that could be fitted with oar locks, we made the jump.
Our first trip out, we were both discouraged at the beginning and end of the sail. The middle - while we were on the water - was great, but rowing along the channel and out into the lake was a lot less effective than Ray had predicted. Every stroke of the oars that should have taken us yards at a time, seemed only to take us feet. We were starting to wonder about rowing - and beginning to price motors for our boat.
The second time out, we used the harbor - and had a far different experience. This time, when the wind died before we were all the way back, Ray shipped the oars and had us back at the dock speedily and with little effort. Aha! This time the whole experience was more about fun and less about work - which we both see as important to our going sailing often!
What was the difference? Here's the metaphor. Along the channel and at its mouth, there is a lot of weed growth in the water. Those weeds caused enough drag on our boat, that we went half as far with twice the effort. In the harbor where the water is less stagnant and far less weedy, we glided along like it was meant to be.
Which led me to think... When we take the time to clear away the weeds in our life - the doubts, the long-held resentments, the crud that drags us down - we don't have to work as hard to get where we want to be. And we can actually enjoy the trip feeling the rewards of results for our efforts.
Wasn't that worth waiting an extra day?
What weeds do you need to remove from your path before it's smooth sailing?
This week I can say that I'm a sailor. Ray and I have now been out twice in our new-to-us-but-over-twenty-years-old 14-footer. I read in the paper that twice out and you can call yourself a sailor. How fun is that?
You've already heard lots of metaphors from my lake-long paddle and the getting ready for it. It seems like metaphors for life blossom when one is on the water. Maybe there's time for reflection that doesn't happen quite the same way on land, maybe there's something about the water that makes me ponder, maybe I'm just more aware. Whatever the reason, here's another one that occurred to me in reference to our first and second sailing expeditions.
We have two places we can launch our sailboat on our end of Canandaigua Lake. One is along a brook that feeds into the lake - which requires that you get your boat in the water and then paddle, row, or motor a distance of a hundred yards or so before you can hoist the sail. (I love using words like hoist!) The other is a more open harbor. There you can put your boat in the water, tie up at a dock and hoist your sails. Depending on the wind that day - and your ability to dodge all the moored boats in the harbor, you can sail right out of the harbor. But there's no guarantee that the wind will still be favorable when you need to come back into the harbor.
The question of getting out to the water and back to land again served as a considerable block in our thinking about a boat. Paddling looked like too big a job, we wanted to avoid the motor, and Ray likes to row. So when we found a boat that could be fitted with oar locks, we made the jump.
Our first trip out, we were both discouraged at the beginning and end of the sail. The middle - while we were on the water - was great, but rowing along the channel and out into the lake was a lot less effective than Ray had predicted. Every stroke of the oars that should have taken us yards at a time, seemed only to take us feet. We were starting to wonder about rowing - and beginning to price motors for our boat.
The second time out, we used the harbor - and had a far different experience. This time, when the wind died before we were all the way back, Ray shipped the oars and had us back at the dock speedily and with little effort. Aha! This time the whole experience was more about fun and less about work - which we both see as important to our going sailing often!
What was the difference? Here's the metaphor. Along the channel and at its mouth, there is a lot of weed growth in the water. Those weeds caused enough drag on our boat, that we went half as far with twice the effort. In the harbor where the water is less stagnant and far less weedy, we glided along like it was meant to be.
Which led me to think... When we take the time to clear away the weeds in our life - the doubts, the long-held resentments, the crud that drags us down - we don't have to work as hard to get where we want to be. And we can actually enjoy the trip feeling the rewards of results for our efforts.
Wasn't that worth waiting an extra day?
What weeds do you need to remove from your path before it's smooth sailing?
Monday, August 13, 2007
Monday Moment - Learning at the Diner
At the diner where we go out for breakfast most Sundays, you can see some of the most professional people I've ever known - serving plates of eggs, home fries, and hash.
It's a small place where we go. The kitchen is tiny, there are three waitresses working at any given time, and there's often a line out the door. Put all that together, and it means that if you want your breakfast fast, you'd be better off going through McDonald's drive-thru.
But if you have patience and are willing to nurse a cup of coffee or tea before your eggs arrive, you'll meet some of the nicest people - on both sides of the counter. And you'll have a chance to watch people who are really, really good at their jobs!
That's a lot of what we do while we cup our hands around steaming mugs. We marvel at the consistent smiles, the absolute lack of wasted motion, the friendly banter while simultaneously adding up a tab! Occasionally, we also see considerable tact while putting an irascible customer in his or her place - with such grace that you just know that person will brag about what happened after they leave. More often we see the "Cheers" theme song come to life in a 'place where everyone knows your name,' as these professionals greet the regulars they call their 'freqs' (short for frequent customers.)
Every Sunday, you're likely to hear one or both of us say, "I wouldn't last a minute in this job!" In the terror of our minds' eyes, we see confusing orders, serving cold food, dropping whole trays on customers. It's enough to make us shudder.
But none of that happens with this veteran crew. Among the waitresses, the new kid on the block has been there fifteen years, and all the rest have logged in over twenty years behind the counter. It has to be a matter of choice for each of them, because they have the kind of skills that CEOs would treasure.
What comes to me most every Sunday is a strong sense of appreciation - for a job well done and a friendly word. And the idea that I can learn a lot about living and about working well while I sip my Earl Grey - which of course I don't have to specify because they all know that's what I prefer.
There have to be times when their backs ache, when they've heard the same tired joke fourteen times too often, when they wish they could lock the door at 7AM instead of 1PM. Oh they let you know that they're real people with lives beyond the diner - if you're kind enough to become a favorite freq. But they don't visit their aches, pains, or complaints on you - ever. Professionals, that's what they are.
It's a good weekly lesson for me. How can I do my job as well? How can I put my own grumps aside to be helpful to someone else? How can I find small jobs to do in the lulls between delivering the larger jobs? How can I exercise my memory to keep all my projects straight? All that I can learn just sitting at the counter of my favorite diner.
It's a small place where we go. The kitchen is tiny, there are three waitresses working at any given time, and there's often a line out the door. Put all that together, and it means that if you want your breakfast fast, you'd be better off going through McDonald's drive-thru.
But if you have patience and are willing to nurse a cup of coffee or tea before your eggs arrive, you'll meet some of the nicest people - on both sides of the counter. And you'll have a chance to watch people who are really, really good at their jobs!
That's a lot of what we do while we cup our hands around steaming mugs. We marvel at the consistent smiles, the absolute lack of wasted motion, the friendly banter while simultaneously adding up a tab! Occasionally, we also see considerable tact while putting an irascible customer in his or her place - with such grace that you just know that person will brag about what happened after they leave. More often we see the "Cheers" theme song come to life in a 'place where everyone knows your name,' as these professionals greet the regulars they call their 'freqs' (short for frequent customers.)
Every Sunday, you're likely to hear one or both of us say, "I wouldn't last a minute in this job!" In the terror of our minds' eyes, we see confusing orders, serving cold food, dropping whole trays on customers. It's enough to make us shudder.
But none of that happens with this veteran crew. Among the waitresses, the new kid on the block has been there fifteen years, and all the rest have logged in over twenty years behind the counter. It has to be a matter of choice for each of them, because they have the kind of skills that CEOs would treasure.
What comes to me most every Sunday is a strong sense of appreciation - for a job well done and a friendly word. And the idea that I can learn a lot about living and about working well while I sip my Earl Grey - which of course I don't have to specify because they all know that's what I prefer.
There have to be times when their backs ache, when they've heard the same tired joke fourteen times too often, when they wish they could lock the door at 7AM instead of 1PM. Oh they let you know that they're real people with lives beyond the diner - if you're kind enough to become a favorite freq. But they don't visit their aches, pains, or complaints on you - ever. Professionals, that's what they are.
It's a good weekly lesson for me. How can I do my job as well? How can I put my own grumps aside to be helpful to someone else? How can I find small jobs to do in the lulls between delivering the larger jobs? How can I exercise my memory to keep all my projects straight? All that I can learn just sitting at the counter of my favorite diner.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Monday Moment - Another Reason to Keep On Keeping On!
Well it's happened again. For the second week in 2007, I have failed to meet my exercise goals of 300 minutes per week. I anticipated that it would be difficult to fit in that much intentional exercise last week since I was visiting family and working with my good friends from Executive Edge at Ernst & Young's International Intern Leadership Conference. (This is such a cool program where we help E&Y facilitators know how to conduct exciting and challenging team-building activities with over 2000 student interns who have worked among Ernst & Young's other 130,000 firm members across the globe. You can find out more about it at www.executiveedgeinc.com!)
Amidst all the time we spend working together - and the time we spend socializing over wonderful dinners - my 300 minutes of intentional exercise just didn't happen. There was a lot of unintentional exercise - walking all over a huge convention center, bursts of running during energizing breaks, a little dancing, a lot of getting up and down from the floor, and one Qi Gong routine that was great fun to experience and that I think I'd like to practice on a regular basis. But I only did the briefest intentional exercise during the whole week.
By any measure, I'd have to say that I failed to meet my goal last week. And yet, I feel renewed and excited about my 300 minute goal in ways that surprise me. I've been committed and true to the goal without fail, but I have to admit that my excitement about it has been on the wane. It's just not easy to always fit in the time - and frankly I had hoped that I might be seeing more weight loss results from my commitment. I have lost a little weight - but a lot less than I'd hoped, and it hasn't been difficult to feel just a little discouraged with my meager loss.
Last week though, I discovered another way in which my 300 minute commitment has made a difference. I mentioned earlier that there is a lot of getting up and down from the floor in the work I was doing last week. We introduce an activity, then do it, and then sit down on the floor to talk about what the group did well, how the team's behavior reminds them of real life experiences, and what lessons they want to take away - to their lives and to the next activity. It's up, down, up, down, up, down, all day long.
In past years, I'd start to ache from all the up and down by at least the second day - and know that I'd have four more days to go! I discovered muscles I apparently hadn't used in a long time, and I got very stiff and sore. But this year, I managed the ups and downs with surprising ease. I didn't need the Advil and Aleve that I'd relied on in other years. It felt good to sit down - and it felt good to get back up again. Clearly I was both stronger and more flexible this year - and that has to be due to my 300 minutes of exercise commitment.
See why I'm excited? I saw results! They weren't the results I was hoping for - 15 pounds gone instead of a measly 6 - but they were results nonetheless! I handled the rigor of our up and down work with more ease than some of my younger colleagues - and more importantly than I did just a year ago! Hooray! One more reason to keep on keeping on!
Amidst all the time we spend working together - and the time we spend socializing over wonderful dinners - my 300 minutes of intentional exercise just didn't happen. There was a lot of unintentional exercise - walking all over a huge convention center, bursts of running during energizing breaks, a little dancing, a lot of getting up and down from the floor, and one Qi Gong routine that was great fun to experience and that I think I'd like to practice on a regular basis. But I only did the briefest intentional exercise during the whole week.
By any measure, I'd have to say that I failed to meet my goal last week. And yet, I feel renewed and excited about my 300 minute goal in ways that surprise me. I've been committed and true to the goal without fail, but I have to admit that my excitement about it has been on the wane. It's just not easy to always fit in the time - and frankly I had hoped that I might be seeing more weight loss results from my commitment. I have lost a little weight - but a lot less than I'd hoped, and it hasn't been difficult to feel just a little discouraged with my meager loss.
Last week though, I discovered another way in which my 300 minute commitment has made a difference. I mentioned earlier that there is a lot of getting up and down from the floor in the work I was doing last week. We introduce an activity, then do it, and then sit down on the floor to talk about what the group did well, how the team's behavior reminds them of real life experiences, and what lessons they want to take away - to their lives and to the next activity. It's up, down, up, down, up, down, all day long.
In past years, I'd start to ache from all the up and down by at least the second day - and know that I'd have four more days to go! I discovered muscles I apparently hadn't used in a long time, and I got very stiff and sore. But this year, I managed the ups and downs with surprising ease. I didn't need the Advil and Aleve that I'd relied on in other years. It felt good to sit down - and it felt good to get back up again. Clearly I was both stronger and more flexible this year - and that has to be due to my 300 minutes of exercise commitment.
See why I'm excited? I saw results! They weren't the results I was hoping for - 15 pounds gone instead of a measly 6 - but they were results nonetheless! I handled the rigor of our up and down work with more ease than some of my younger colleagues - and more importantly than I did just a year ago! Hooray! One more reason to keep on keeping on!
Monday, July 23, 2007
Monday Moment - What I Learned on a Summer Adventure
The deed is done! Today was the day that I paddled my pretty little kayak the length of Canandaigua Lake! And I did it!
As you know, I've been working up to this for the last 5 or 6 weeks, and except for a little stiffness in my hand - and the need for a shower and a nap when I got back home - I came through like a trooper! And have the callouses to prove it! Whoopie!
It was a perfect day for my adventure. Mostly cloudy, cool and comfortable with only the slightest breeze out of the southwest. I put in at Kershaw Park at the north end of the lake about 7:30 AM, and climbed out in Woodville at the south end about 5 hours later and 14-15 miles later.
For the first two hours, I was looking at scenery I'd seen on other paddles. I'd seen the rest of the lake too - but not in my own boat and on my own power - and that made a big difference in the fun quotient!
I could go on - and probably will if you ever exhibit the slightest interest in my dozens of pictures. But what I want to do now is contemplate what I've learned from the experience. Here's what's in my head so far.
1. Setting a goal - any goal - really is an act of power! I never would have accomplished this lake-length paddle if I hadn't decided to do it. Setting the goal - of what I'd do, when I'd do it, and how I'd take it on - that got me halfway there!
2. Putting a deadline on the goal was hugely important too. The deadline helped create my training schedule, kept me motivated, and pushed me to do what I said I'd do. I find that when I'm really clear on what I want, then ordinary logic can tell me what I need to do. "If I want this, then I'd better do this..."
3. Building in a reward helped motivate me too. For me the biggest reward was just a little anticipated bragging - in this venue and to friends and family I'll see in Florida next week. Another big reward was the look on Ray's face as I paddled to meet him at the south end of the lake. He's been bragging on me too, and it feels pretty sweet knowing that he's proud of me. And about 3 hours into the paddle, I started to visualize a fully justified slice of warm rhubarb pie with a generous scoop of ice cream. We drove back from the south end to our favorite diner and the pie was just as yummy as it sounds!
4. It's important to train and get ready for a big goal - but for me, it's also important not to wait until I am entirely and fully convinced that I'm ready. More than once in the last week - especially as I checked this week's weather and today seemed like the only really good day - I've thought about putting off the paddle till into August or even September. After all, that would give me more time to get ready. Except that I'd miss bragging rights with friends and family, and might give myself all kinds of ways to weasel out. And I didn't need to wait. I might not have felt 100% ready, but I was clearly ready enough. I need to remember that taking on any new challenge won't feel easy-chair comfortable - and I don't need it to. I'm tough enough to withstand a little emotional and/or physical discomfort. Ready or not.
5. On the same day I paddled Canandaigua Lake, a bunch of bicyclists pedaled through town on their way from Buffalo to Albany. They reminded me that my experience is not unique. Rising to a physical challenge is something we humans can do - and the physical growth tends to spill over into emotional, intellectual, social, environmental, and spiritual arenas too.
5. And finally, reflecting on what I'd learned adds spice and flavor to an already rich experience. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share - and brag! But what will really excite me is to hear about the challenges you're taking on! Let me know by responding to my blog!
As you know, I've been working up to this for the last 5 or 6 weeks, and except for a little stiffness in my hand - and the need for a shower and a nap when I got back home - I came through like a trooper! And have the callouses to prove it! Whoopie!
It was a perfect day for my adventure. Mostly cloudy, cool and comfortable with only the slightest breeze out of the southwest. I put in at Kershaw Park at the north end of the lake about 7:30 AM, and climbed out in Woodville at the south end about 5 hours later and 14-15 miles later.
For the first two hours, I was looking at scenery I'd seen on other paddles. I'd seen the rest of the lake too - but not in my own boat and on my own power - and that made a big difference in the fun quotient!
I could go on - and probably will if you ever exhibit the slightest interest in my dozens of pictures. But what I want to do now is contemplate what I've learned from the experience. Here's what's in my head so far.
1. Setting a goal - any goal - really is an act of power! I never would have accomplished this lake-length paddle if I hadn't decided to do it. Setting the goal - of what I'd do, when I'd do it, and how I'd take it on - that got me halfway there!
2. Putting a deadline on the goal was hugely important too. The deadline helped create my training schedule, kept me motivated, and pushed me to do what I said I'd do. I find that when I'm really clear on what I want, then ordinary logic can tell me what I need to do. "If I want this, then I'd better do this..."
3. Building in a reward helped motivate me too. For me the biggest reward was just a little anticipated bragging - in this venue and to friends and family I'll see in Florida next week. Another big reward was the look on Ray's face as I paddled to meet him at the south end of the lake. He's been bragging on me too, and it feels pretty sweet knowing that he's proud of me. And about 3 hours into the paddle, I started to visualize a fully justified slice of warm rhubarb pie with a generous scoop of ice cream. We drove back from the south end to our favorite diner and the pie was just as yummy as it sounds!
4. It's important to train and get ready for a big goal - but for me, it's also important not to wait until I am entirely and fully convinced that I'm ready. More than once in the last week - especially as I checked this week's weather and today seemed like the only really good day - I've thought about putting off the paddle till into August or even September. After all, that would give me more time to get ready. Except that I'd miss bragging rights with friends and family, and might give myself all kinds of ways to weasel out. And I didn't need to wait. I might not have felt 100% ready, but I was clearly ready enough. I need to remember that taking on any new challenge won't feel easy-chair comfortable - and I don't need it to. I'm tough enough to withstand a little emotional and/or physical discomfort. Ready or not.
5. On the same day I paddled Canandaigua Lake, a bunch of bicyclists pedaled through town on their way from Buffalo to Albany. They reminded me that my experience is not unique. Rising to a physical challenge is something we humans can do - and the physical growth tends to spill over into emotional, intellectual, social, environmental, and spiritual arenas too.
5. And finally, reflecting on what I'd learned adds spice and flavor to an already rich experience. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to share - and brag! But what will really excite me is to hear about the challenges you're taking on! Let me know by responding to my blog!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Monday Moment - Against the Wind or With the Flow?
It's been quite windy in my part of the world lately. One day it might be a cool breeze from the north. Another it's a hard hot wind out of the sourth. And still another it's one of our prevailing westerlies.
I've been more aware of the wind as it's become a major factor in training for my long kayak paddle. I confess that I prefer the gentlest of breezes - just enough to make a light ripple over the water and cool me down. But that's not been the kind of weather pattern we've been having.
No the breezes we've been getting are better described as stiff - the kind that raise considerable waves! And like it or not, if I'm going to get in the kind of training I need before I set out on my 15 mile paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake, I've had to train in stiff wind.
Since there are limited places where I can put my boat in and take my boat out on our lake, that means that my training runs are always a round-trip paddle. So regardless of the wind's direction, I'm going to paddle part of the way against it and part of the way with the wiind.
Ah those metaphors for life abound - and leap into my head when I'm alone with wind and water.
What's become clear to me is that when I'm fresh, I like paddling against the wind. It's invigorating! I like the challenge, I appreciate the feel of the wind in my face and the sound of my boat slapping down into a trough of waves makes me laugh. I like the look of a wave crashing over the bow of my pretty little boat, and I imagine what it must have been like for a colonist sailing across the rough Atlantic on their way to the new world. That's all when I'm feeling fresh.
On my return leg, paddling against the wind is a tedious imposition. When I'm tired, I can really appreciate going with the wind. That's when kayaking takes on a slight resemblance to surfing. It's easier and you get further faster when you go with the flow. And last week, I also discovered that if I paddle just a little faster, it's more fun, and I get more distance from a wave that's going in my same direction.
All this wind play has reminded me that sometimes it's good to take on challenges head on - and sometimes you can get further faster just going with the flow. Neither approach works all the time, neither is inhearantly better or worse than the other - the trick is to assess the situation and my own readiness for challenge or flow. And of course to notice what hwppens when I take either approach - and be ready to change my direction accordingly.
I've been more aware of the wind as it's become a major factor in training for my long kayak paddle. I confess that I prefer the gentlest of breezes - just enough to make a light ripple over the water and cool me down. But that's not been the kind of weather pattern we've been having.
No the breezes we've been getting are better described as stiff - the kind that raise considerable waves! And like it or not, if I'm going to get in the kind of training I need before I set out on my 15 mile paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake, I've had to train in stiff wind.
Since there are limited places where I can put my boat in and take my boat out on our lake, that means that my training runs are always a round-trip paddle. So regardless of the wind's direction, I'm going to paddle part of the way against it and part of the way with the wiind.
Ah those metaphors for life abound - and leap into my head when I'm alone with wind and water.
What's become clear to me is that when I'm fresh, I like paddling against the wind. It's invigorating! I like the challenge, I appreciate the feel of the wind in my face and the sound of my boat slapping down into a trough of waves makes me laugh. I like the look of a wave crashing over the bow of my pretty little boat, and I imagine what it must have been like for a colonist sailing across the rough Atlantic on their way to the new world. That's all when I'm feeling fresh.
On my return leg, paddling against the wind is a tedious imposition. When I'm tired, I can really appreciate going with the wind. That's when kayaking takes on a slight resemblance to surfing. It's easier and you get further faster when you go with the flow. And last week, I also discovered that if I paddle just a little faster, it's more fun, and I get more distance from a wave that's going in my same direction.
All this wind play has reminded me that sometimes it's good to take on challenges head on - and sometimes you can get further faster just going with the flow. Neither approach works all the time, neither is inhearantly better or worse than the other - the trick is to assess the situation and my own readiness for challenge or flow. And of course to notice what hwppens when I take either approach - and be ready to change my direction accordingly.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Monday Moment - Declare Our Causes!
"When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and wqual station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation."
I have always found this opening paragraph to the Declaration of Independence compelling. Yes, as a kid I was steeped in 4th of July traditions, Johnny Tremain, the film version of 1776, and all the romance of the American Revolutionary War. And as an adult, I'm still susceptible to the nationalistic trappings that often get confused with patriotism. I like marching bands, picnics, and fireworks.
But beyond the hoopla of this week's holiday, I do try to remember just what was in the minds of my country's brilliant, and imperfect founding fathers and mothers. Separating from England to form what could only be imagined at the time as a grand experiment was a big deal to the privileged men who met in Philadelphia in 1776. And I must say, I like that they felt responsible to show "a decent respect to the opinions of mankind" and that they felt compelled to "declare the causes which impel[led] them."
I think more of us should feel so compelled - to declare ourselves, our purpose, our intent, our carefully considered values, beliefs, and reasons for what we do. I'd like to see more of the "decent respect to the opinions of [hu]mankind" in myself - and I'd like to see more of it in the elected public servants to this land I call home.
I'd like to see less swagger and more substance, less posturing and more politeness, less reasoning to defend a position and more reasoning with to develop an understanding. I'd like to see less anxiety about the current poll and more genuine concern about how the next generation will view today's actions. I'd like to see less officiousness and more service, less blaming and more personal responsibility.
And I'd like to see this at all levels - in our elected and appointed public servants, our citizens, and in myself.
When in the course of my own human events, I here now so solemly pledge - "my Life, my Fortune, and my sacred Honor."
I have always found this opening paragraph to the Declaration of Independence compelling. Yes, as a kid I was steeped in 4th of July traditions, Johnny Tremain, the film version of 1776, and all the romance of the American Revolutionary War. And as an adult, I'm still susceptible to the nationalistic trappings that often get confused with patriotism. I like marching bands, picnics, and fireworks.
But beyond the hoopla of this week's holiday, I do try to remember just what was in the minds of my country's brilliant, and imperfect founding fathers and mothers. Separating from England to form what could only be imagined at the time as a grand experiment was a big deal to the privileged men who met in Philadelphia in 1776. And I must say, I like that they felt responsible to show "a decent respect to the opinions of mankind" and that they felt compelled to "declare the causes which impel[led] them."
I think more of us should feel so compelled - to declare ourselves, our purpose, our intent, our carefully considered values, beliefs, and reasons for what we do. I'd like to see more of the "decent respect to the opinions of [hu]mankind" in myself - and I'd like to see more of it in the elected public servants to this land I call home.
I'd like to see less swagger and more substance, less posturing and more politeness, less reasoning to defend a position and more reasoning with to develop an understanding. I'd like to see less anxiety about the current poll and more genuine concern about how the next generation will view today's actions. I'd like to see less officiousness and more service, less blaming and more personal responsibility.
And I'd like to see this at all levels - in our elected and appointed public servants, our citizens, and in myself.
When in the course of my own human events, I here now so solemly pledge - "my Life, my Fortune, and my sacred Honor."
Monday, June 25, 2007
80 Things I Learned from My 80 Year-Old Teacher, Mentor, and Friend: Dr. Sidney B. Simon
- Love unconditionally
- Up the risk to grow
- It doesn’t help to try to fill one’s bucket with self-esteem until we patch all the leaks that prevent us holding that esteem in.
- IALAC – I Am Lovable (just because I am) And Capable (because I prove to myself that I can do things and because I am both lovable and capable I can conclude that I am of worth.)
- Don’t look at the world with ‘red pencil glasses.’
- Time alone is an important element for overall wellness.
- Ask ‘brave questions’ to generate real and meaningful conversation.
- I don’t have to kick myself in the butt all the time.
- Negative Criticism is destructive – whether it’s directed toward myself or others.
- I should only offer negative criticism after I filter it through at least 6 rigorous filters – which in my experience rarely allow such criticism through.
- Everyone is somebody’s baby – and should be treated with the tenderness we reserve for babies.
- Skin requires the nourishment of touch.
- When loving words might be hard to say, loving touch communicates deeply and powerfully.
- Words are important – and we can grow to find them easier to say.
- Loving touch added to loving words communicates unmistakably.
- One man or one woman can touch many lives in innumerable ways.
- Writing freely – in the style of Ira Progoff’s journaling method – uncovers thoughts and feelings that may have been lurking beneath the surface, and helps me know what to do with those thoughts and feelings.
- Writing, music, touch, and community – are all windows for my learning.
- “80 is the new 60!”
- It helps to have the right tools for the job of living.
- Validation – giving one’s ‘stamp of approval’ helps build relationships.
- Relationships can be fragile – gossamer thread fragile.
- Abundant validation helps build a gossamer thread into a steel cable that can withstand the occasional inadvertent unfiltered negative criticism.
- We are all vulnerable to attacks on our self-esteem – but we can learn to fight off such vultures.
- It’s not only okay to have feelings – regardless of one’s gender – it’s more than okay to share those feelings with others.
- Sharing feelings is how we develop true intimacy with someone else.
- If I can’t remember what I did last Saturday night, then I probably need to make my weekends more enriching and memorable.
- Creating a sense of safety is crucial to creating a great learning community.
- Creating opportunities for learners to think, write, and speak – especially in small groups – helps them own and be responsible for their own learning.
- To be your ally, I can ask what you specifically want me to do and then to ask you if you have felt my support. I’ll need effective feedback and validation that I’m giving you what you need.
- Taking turns is a good system.
- There is never enough time. If something is important, you’ll get back to it. And if it is really important, don’t worry, it will get back to you.
- #32 is true if you’re talking about feelings that are real. If, instead, you’re engaging in melodrama, it won’t be important enough for you to remember to get back to it.
- A component of overall wellness is having a sense of order and beauty in one’s life.
- Another component of wellness is having a counseling outlet – someone who will listen when you need to have someone listen even if you have to pay that person to do the listening.
- A great way to evaluate something is to ask Mamie Porter’s 3 Questions: What did I like about…? If I had it to do again, what would I do differently? What support do I need?
- Mamie Porter’s questions can also be adapted to very practical things like job performance appraisals: What do you like about your performance? What would you do differently? What support do you need from me?
- It’s good to be able to say “I respect myself for..” and then list as many respectable qualities as you can – even 50!
- When you’re motive is ego, saying something publicly is a negative “Look at me,” but if you’re motive is to benefit the community, it’s not a “look at me” situation.”
- It’s useful to look at the things – both positive and negative – that shaped one’s life – and then to make new choices to shape one’s own life.
- Support – someone to listen, to encourage, to cheerlead, to give truthful feedback – is really important for living well!
- It’s wise to seek out different people to fill the different roles of support listed in #41 because asking it all from one person may be expecting too much of that person who also has a life that needs supporting.
- It’s a risk to share who we really are – a risk that helps us grow.
- Risk needs to be tempered with safety. We don’t need to share who we are with someone who isn’t safe.
- It’s important to forgive – the people who hurt me were probably doing the best they could do with what they had.
- Denial is not a bad thing. It can protect us when we can’t deal with what’s happening. But getting stuck pretending not to know what we really know has a very high cost.
- Self-blame is a rung higher than denial because it acknowledges that something has happened – and sometimes we do need to claim true responsibility for what we attract. But when we’ve been hurt in ways that we truly could not control what happened to us, we need to learn that IT WAS NOT OUR FAULT!
- Abuse of any kind is no way to treat a little kid!
- Victim-hood is another rung higher on the road to forgiveness and healing because we can then say, “this happened to me. It wasn’t right. I did NOT deserve that!” But we don’t have the capacity yet to draw boundaries to protect ourselves.
- Victim-hood has several flavors – self-indulgence, whining, and mean-ness.
- Victims – who get stuck in that stage – beget victims – people who have been hurt and then hurt others in both intentional and unintentional ways. Hurt people hurt people.
- Victim-hood is a natural and in some ways helpful stage – but not a healthy place to get stuck for 20 years or more.
- A powerful lever out of the stage of victim-hood is a commitment to seek and achieve overall wellness.
- When we exercise important self-care – taking care of ourselves first – then we are less likely to hurt someone else and more able to be of genuine help to another.
- When we can say, ‘this happened to me, it wasn’t right, I did not deserve that, AND IT WILL NOT HAPPEN TO ME AGAIN!” we’ve reached the strong stage in healing called Anger.
- In anger, we commit that something has to change.
- In anger, we draw boundaries around ourselves that protect us from the hurt we’ve previously been dealt.
- A cost of anger is that we seem to attract angry people and angry reactions to us.
- It is no fun to date a person who is angry!
- One lever out of the anger stage is humor that helps us put our hurt into perspective.
- Another lever out of anger is the genuine desire – and growing capacity – to help others.
- Humor and the desire and capacity to help others allows us to slide to the next rung of survivor-hood.
- Until we reach the survivor stage in our healing, we should not attempt to help others. We don’t yet have the capacity.
- Surviving a hurt is a great feeling – but even here we tend to identify ourselves in terms of the hurt and not all the other parts of our being.
- When we can acknowledge that the hurt has shaped our lives, and also recognize that we have other gifts and joys and arenas of our lives that the hurt is not part of – then we reach the stage that Sid and Suzanne Simon called Integration (and which I call Thriver-hood.)
- Knowing the stages of healing intellectually is not the same as feeling them emotionally – but can help us prepare for the natural hurts of living and identify hopeful ways out of mire we might find ourselves temporarily stuck in.
- There’s a difference between guilt and shame. Guilt is internal, I caused it, I can atone for it. Shame is external, visited upon me by someone else, and it is neither fair nor reasonable to visit shame upon someone else.
- If it’s good to contemplate what shaped my life, isn’t it also useful to contemplate what shaped the lives of others – like my parents, my sibs, my lover? Might that not make me more understanding of them?
- It is not necessary to be perfect. Excellence will do just fine!
- Taking time out to consider my feelings right here and now (using a tool called the Here and Now Wheel) is a useful process – under stress, in great happiness, and at the myriad moments in between.
- From Louis Raths, “If a person has a cold, you don’t give them pneumonia germs.”
- Healing unfinished business with someone who may be the next to die – and anyone may be the next to die – is important to both the person who is dying and the person who survives.
- I can’t control what has happened already in the timeline of my life, but in the time I have left – my rainbow years – I need to frequently list what I want to have, do, experience, and/or witness in the precious time I have left.
- When you do make a list of what you want to do, have, experience, and/or witness before you die – you get a lot more of what you want in your life!
- Six things that trainers/facilitators need: something to teach, some way to organize it, a compelling way to present the learning, a way for learners to follow up, a way to market one’s gifts, a multitude of ways in which to renew oneself and keep growing.
- Effective strategy sequences include: a tool to help support a concept or theory, leading from something to something, a grabber, active learner involvement followed by closure and processing time for the learners, as well as hints about where they might go next in their learning.
- From William James: “to make a change, you must start immediately and flamboyantly, and make no exceptions.”
- I can design and redesign a day, an hour, a minute, by considering what I’d have it contain, “In my perfect fantasy…”
- From Louis Rath’s: “To be a value, one must choose it freely, from alternatives, understanding the consequences of the choice, prize and publicly affirm it, and act with repetition, pattern, and consistency upon it.” My own twist: it must also be morally right and good.
- If you come up with an idea, that doesn’t mean you have to carry it out. If no one else steps up to carry it, it might be an idea ahead of its time.
Monday Moment - From a Grateful Student
This Monday finds me in a rare and rather wonderful mood that combines a high from a great weekend conference and the physical and emotional stupor from expending myself fully.
The conference was held to honor my teacher, mentor, and friend Dr. Sidney B. Simon on the occasion of his 80th year on this planet. A community of people who have learned from Sid - from the 1930's through 2007 - gathered to attend sessions led by Sid and his students. It was magical - fun, heart-warming, thought-provoking, fully and totally alive!
Sid's message had to do with how one measure's a life - the friends one keeps, what one's children say behind one's back, finding one's gifts and sharing them in ways that help others, the work one leaves, the love one has given, prayers prayed for others, and on and on. (It occurred to me too late to add it to the Sid's list on Sunday, but I've also been thinking about the FUN HAD!)
There's no doubt that Sid - the man and his work - have touched people deeply. I've witnessed people speak their gratitude for lessons learned - and I've experienced it myself.
So in my own gratitude, I decided I'd attempt a list of 80 Things I Have Learned from My Teacher, Mentor and Friend Sid Simon. Somewhere around 23 learnings, I began to think I might have difficulty coming up with 80 - but that was a premature and silly worry. By #65 or so, it was clear I'd have a surplus. This is a man who has had much and will continue to have much to teach. So I opted not to worry that my list be complete. It will grow as memory uncovers learnings that have been packed away and as I continue to learn from Sid.
So here's my list. But be warned. These are learnings that one will gain most from by reading slowly and pondering deeply. Skim if you must - but to really soak up each gem of an idea, you'll need to think and feel and journal and speak your truths out loud. Or just sign up for the next workshop that Sid offers to start or add to your own list of what you've learned.
The conference was held to honor my teacher, mentor, and friend Dr. Sidney B. Simon on the occasion of his 80th year on this planet. A community of people who have learned from Sid - from the 1930's through 2007 - gathered to attend sessions led by Sid and his students. It was magical - fun, heart-warming, thought-provoking, fully and totally alive!
Sid's message had to do with how one measure's a life - the friends one keeps, what one's children say behind one's back, finding one's gifts and sharing them in ways that help others, the work one leaves, the love one has given, prayers prayed for others, and on and on. (It occurred to me too late to add it to the Sid's list on Sunday, but I've also been thinking about the FUN HAD!)
There's no doubt that Sid - the man and his work - have touched people deeply. I've witnessed people speak their gratitude for lessons learned - and I've experienced it myself.
So in my own gratitude, I decided I'd attempt a list of 80 Things I Have Learned from My Teacher, Mentor and Friend Sid Simon. Somewhere around 23 learnings, I began to think I might have difficulty coming up with 80 - but that was a premature and silly worry. By #65 or so, it was clear I'd have a surplus. This is a man who has had much and will continue to have much to teach. So I opted not to worry that my list be complete. It will grow as memory uncovers learnings that have been packed away and as I continue to learn from Sid.
So here's my list. But be warned. These are learnings that one will gain most from by reading slowly and pondering deeply. Skim if you must - but to really soak up each gem of an idea, you'll need to think and feel and journal and speak your truths out loud. Or just sign up for the next workshop that Sid offers to start or add to your own list of what you've learned.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Close Reading from Charles Frazier
The following are a few excerpts from Charles Frazier's Thirteen Moons - excerpts that I NOTICED with the practice of 'Close Reading' that Francine Prose talks about in her book Reading for Writing.
p 97 - "Or maybe it is only that we are so habitually inattentive that when some rare but simple geometry grabs us by the shoulders and shakes us into consciousness, we call our response sacred."
p 143 - "We could not allow a wide space in the trail to pass without riding alongside each other and letting our hands touch. At such a moment of conclusion in later life, I would inevitably have felt a sense of failure, an overwhelming gloom in the knowledge that days such as those three were done and gone forever. But back then I simply exulted in the false but glorious knowledge that life would be exactly this way from now on. I wasn't different from anybody else. I took youth as a special pact from God."
p 313 - "Then another black woman younger and darker than the one who'd answered the door, came into the parlor carrying a wailing baby bundled in little white blankets. All you could see was a face like a barn owl's, just as round and flat and pale and fierce. Like all babies. If they had the physical means, they'd kill you without conscience to fulfill their slightest immediate desire. Same as housecats, which if they weighed two hundred pounds would not accede to our existence for a single day."
There are dozens - probably pages upon pages - of other wonderfully written passages in Frazier's second novel. These are just a few that grabbed me by the shoulders. In all, I found the story of Cold Mountain more moving than the story of Thirteen Moons, but I'd read anything Frazier ever writes again simply to wallow in his gift for language.
p 97 - "Or maybe it is only that we are so habitually inattentive that when some rare but simple geometry grabs us by the shoulders and shakes us into consciousness, we call our response sacred."
p 143 - "We could not allow a wide space in the trail to pass without riding alongside each other and letting our hands touch. At such a moment of conclusion in later life, I would inevitably have felt a sense of failure, an overwhelming gloom in the knowledge that days such as those three were done and gone forever. But back then I simply exulted in the false but glorious knowledge that life would be exactly this way from now on. I wasn't different from anybody else. I took youth as a special pact from God."
p 313 - "Then another black woman younger and darker than the one who'd answered the door, came into the parlor carrying a wailing baby bundled in little white blankets. All you could see was a face like a barn owl's, just as round and flat and pale and fierce. Like all babies. If they had the physical means, they'd kill you without conscience to fulfill their slightest immediate desire. Same as housecats, which if they weighed two hundred pounds would not accede to our existence for a single day."
There are dozens - probably pages upon pages - of other wonderfully written passages in Frazier's second novel. These are just a few that grabbed me by the shoulders. In all, I found the story of Cold Mountain more moving than the story of Thirteen Moons, but I'd read anything Frazier ever writes again simply to wallow in his gift for language.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Monday Moment - NOTICE!
A couple days ago I got around to doing two things that I'd been meaning to do for some time. And now I wish I'd gotten to them sooner. But as a dear mentor of mine used to say, "If you'd have known better, you'd have done better. Next time."
The first thing I got to was reading in a book called Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose. (Don't you just love that her name is Prose?) On the recommendation of a man in my writers group, I picked up this book over a month ago, but I hadn't yet read anything from it. On Friday I took the opportunity to occupy my mind while my hair turned a different color - Reading Like a Writer helped me fill some otherwise unspoken-for time.
Now I know that this is a book I want to read s-l-o-w-l-y - which is not generally my style. Usually, I devour books with the same immoderation I show for chocolate. I am always in a fever to know what happens next, and often can't rest till I close the back cover.
Francine (I just can't call her Prose without giggling) recommends a different way of reading. She calls it 'close reading', which honors an author's choice of words by paying attention to each and every one. What an interesting revelation. For me, the message has been - in capital letters - NOTICE!
On the heels of Francine's admonition to pay attention, I chose this weekend to catch up on my Reading Journal. You can imagine that if I devour books but don't much like paperwork, my goal of recording the books I read - and capturing the gems within - can pile up on me. It's a goal that has big rewards as I find that the physical act of writing about a book helps me remember that I have, in fact, read it.
And I learned this weekend that when I've taken the time to mark a telling passage with a sticky note and then set down that passage in my Reading Journal - I am 'close reading' in a way that lets me own rather than just rent the author's words. Wow! Here was a heart-pounding, mind-jumping revelation!
It helped that sticky notes crowded the pages of Charles Frazier's Thirteen Moons . Such words that man can choose! I couldn't always remember exactly why a line, a paragraph, or a page moved me two or three months ago when I read them - until I began to record them in my Readers Journal. Then, the unfamiliar act of cursive writing pulled me to ponder every word and how it connected to every other word - and holy cow, those words mesmerized me!
I NOTICED!
Which has led me to consider all the things in my life that I habitually fail to notice. The jolt of one color juxtaposed upon another, 'the delicate, thin curve of a new moon in spring' (Walt Whitman's words that I have written frequently enough to own them for my own and observed for myself while walking across the asphalt marina of my local grocer), the rush of wind hitting me square in the face that calms in my perception when I do nothing more than turn my head, the words that spring into my own head when I take the time and demand my mind's presence to NOTICE!
So with my awareness temporarily heightened, I'm determined to NOTICE more - and with more diligence. And to continue reading Francine Prose to see what else she has to teach me about reading, writing, and living well!
The first thing I got to was reading in a book called Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose. (Don't you just love that her name is Prose?) On the recommendation of a man in my writers group, I picked up this book over a month ago, but I hadn't yet read anything from it. On Friday I took the opportunity to occupy my mind while my hair turned a different color - Reading Like a Writer helped me fill some otherwise unspoken-for time.
Now I know that this is a book I want to read s-l-o-w-l-y - which is not generally my style. Usually, I devour books with the same immoderation I show for chocolate. I am always in a fever to know what happens next, and often can't rest till I close the back cover.
Francine (I just can't call her Prose without giggling) recommends a different way of reading. She calls it 'close reading', which honors an author's choice of words by paying attention to each and every one. What an interesting revelation. For me, the message has been - in capital letters - NOTICE!
On the heels of Francine's admonition to pay attention, I chose this weekend to catch up on my Reading Journal. You can imagine that if I devour books but don't much like paperwork, my goal of recording the books I read - and capturing the gems within - can pile up on me. It's a goal that has big rewards as I find that the physical act of writing about a book helps me remember that I have, in fact, read it.
And I learned this weekend that when I've taken the time to mark a telling passage with a sticky note and then set down that passage in my Reading Journal - I am 'close reading' in a way that lets me own rather than just rent the author's words. Wow! Here was a heart-pounding, mind-jumping revelation!
It helped that sticky notes crowded the pages of Charles Frazier's Thirteen Moons . Such words that man can choose! I couldn't always remember exactly why a line, a paragraph, or a page moved me two or three months ago when I read them - until I began to record them in my Readers Journal. Then, the unfamiliar act of cursive writing pulled me to ponder every word and how it connected to every other word - and holy cow, those words mesmerized me!
I NOTICED!
Which has led me to consider all the things in my life that I habitually fail to notice. The jolt of one color juxtaposed upon another, 'the delicate, thin curve of a new moon in spring' (Walt Whitman's words that I have written frequently enough to own them for my own and observed for myself while walking across the asphalt marina of my local grocer), the rush of wind hitting me square in the face that calms in my perception when I do nothing more than turn my head, the words that spring into my own head when I take the time and demand my mind's presence to NOTICE!
So with my awareness temporarily heightened, I'm determined to NOTICE more - and with more diligence. And to continue reading Francine Prose to see what else she has to teach me about reading, writing, and living well!
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Monday Moment - Hungry for More!
I've read - and I've said - that achieving any goal makes you hungry to achieve more goals. This weekend I've become more and more aware of a hunger that I intend to assuage this summer.
For a couple of years, I've been thinking about kayaking the length of Canandaigua Lake - about 16 miles - just to say I had done it. Have you ever noticed just how safe 'thinking about' something can be?
Well last year, I said - out loud in the presence of a witness - "I think some nice day next summer I'll kayak the length of Canandaigua Lake." Have you ever noticed just how safe "I think I will..." can be?
But even all that safe 'thinking' can land on a person hungry to pile up achieved goals. The thought has been germinating until yesterday, it became "I'm in training to paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake before August 1, 2007."
I'm not entirely sure the route this goal took on the way from being a thought to being a goal. I only knew that from the time I took my pretty little kayak out for the first spin on the season yesterday, I have been consumed with all the what's, how's, and when's of making this trip. I went from 'thinking' about it, to planning it!
The what - set out early one nice day and paddle from the north end of our beautiful Finger Lake to the south end. Or maybe from the south to the north - I'm weighing the benefits of either approach.
The how's are myriad. I'll do it on a weekday when our lake has less power boat traffic than on weekends. I'll carry water and food for the trip in a bag on a rope that I can retrieve from below deck in the front of my kayak. I'll acquire a waterproof container so I can also carry my cell phone so that if I should wear a blister on my feathering thumb or meet some other challenge that would take all the fun out of the effort, I can call my ride and temporarily abort the trip midstream. I'll wear a hat and sunscreen.
I'll train - and build up a callous so that blistering isn't likely. Yesterday, I paddled 2-3 miles for 45 minutes. Today I paddled what I estimate to be about 8 miles round trip for a little under 2 hours - and yes that does count toward my 300 minutes of intentional exercise a week! I'll continue to train, extending my time until I regularly paddle at least 35 miles a week. On days I don't paddle, I'll swim and/or walk and use handweights to build strength.
The when is not yet fixed in my mind. And in some respects, it won't become fixed until the morning I set off. I won't set off in a thunderstorm and I won't take on this challenge if the forecast calls for the hottest day of the year. I will - after more training and planning - set a target week, watch the weather, and be ready to go on the first good day. I think it would be fun to choose the summer solstice (though that's coming quite soon and I may not be ready yet) or my parents wedding anniversary (also pretty imminent), but it might be that I choose a new occasion that I can celebrate and commemorate in years to come.
What I know now is that I want to achieve this goal before August 1 - so I won't let myself weasel out by procrastinating too long and because I'll be traveling a fair amount of August and therefore won't be able to train. And besides, I'll be seeing some old friends and meeting new ones in August, and I want to be able to brag on my accomplishment!
A big goal always takes a little chewing before you get it down to bite-sized pieces, and I'll be chewing on this one for a while yet. But I will paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake before August 1 this summer. And then I'll probably get hungry to achieve yet another goal that hasn't yet surfaced. Hmm... I'd better start thinking now!
For a couple of years, I've been thinking about kayaking the length of Canandaigua Lake - about 16 miles - just to say I had done it. Have you ever noticed just how safe 'thinking about' something can be?
Well last year, I said - out loud in the presence of a witness - "I think some nice day next summer I'll kayak the length of Canandaigua Lake." Have you ever noticed just how safe "I think I will..." can be?
But even all that safe 'thinking' can land on a person hungry to pile up achieved goals. The thought has been germinating until yesterday, it became "I'm in training to paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake before August 1, 2007."
I'm not entirely sure the route this goal took on the way from being a thought to being a goal. I only knew that from the time I took my pretty little kayak out for the first spin on the season yesterday, I have been consumed with all the what's, how's, and when's of making this trip. I went from 'thinking' about it, to planning it!
The what - set out early one nice day and paddle from the north end of our beautiful Finger Lake to the south end. Or maybe from the south to the north - I'm weighing the benefits of either approach.
The how's are myriad. I'll do it on a weekday when our lake has less power boat traffic than on weekends. I'll carry water and food for the trip in a bag on a rope that I can retrieve from below deck in the front of my kayak. I'll acquire a waterproof container so I can also carry my cell phone so that if I should wear a blister on my feathering thumb or meet some other challenge that would take all the fun out of the effort, I can call my ride and temporarily abort the trip midstream. I'll wear a hat and sunscreen.
I'll train - and build up a callous so that blistering isn't likely. Yesterday, I paddled 2-3 miles for 45 minutes. Today I paddled what I estimate to be about 8 miles round trip for a little under 2 hours - and yes that does count toward my 300 minutes of intentional exercise a week! I'll continue to train, extending my time until I regularly paddle at least 35 miles a week. On days I don't paddle, I'll swim and/or walk and use handweights to build strength.
The when is not yet fixed in my mind. And in some respects, it won't become fixed until the morning I set off. I won't set off in a thunderstorm and I won't take on this challenge if the forecast calls for the hottest day of the year. I will - after more training and planning - set a target week, watch the weather, and be ready to go on the first good day. I think it would be fun to choose the summer solstice (though that's coming quite soon and I may not be ready yet) or my parents wedding anniversary (also pretty imminent), but it might be that I choose a new occasion that I can celebrate and commemorate in years to come.
What I know now is that I want to achieve this goal before August 1 - so I won't let myself weasel out by procrastinating too long and because I'll be traveling a fair amount of August and therefore won't be able to train. And besides, I'll be seeing some old friends and meeting new ones in August, and I want to be able to brag on my accomplishment!
A big goal always takes a little chewing before you get it down to bite-sized pieces, and I'll be chewing on this one for a while yet. But I will paddle the length of Canandaigua Lake before August 1 this summer. And then I'll probably get hungry to achieve yet another goal that hasn't yet surfaced. Hmm... I'd better start thinking now!
Monday, June 4, 2007
Monday Moment - Go Ahead! Be a Klutz!
I'm a person who gets bored easily, and therefore new experiences are something that I often enjoy. But even though my personality type (Activator Orange in the Personality IQ) thrives on unexplored territory, that doesn't mean that the thriving isn't often accompanied by equal jolts of the fear of the unknown.
It's a conundrum because at the same time that I crave the new, I am also a person who likes believing she is competent at what she does. Hmmm... Do you see my challenge? How can I feel competent at something I've never done before? And why on earth would I expect this of myself?
Yeah, I can't think of a good reason either. But it does seem to be what I expect. The very idea of not knowing what I'm doing can be daunting enough to keep me from trying something new. And if I don't master it quickly, I could be likely to give it up all together rather than face the uncomfortable klutzy feelings of a beginner.
Dumb, huh! I'm working on it though - and pushing myself to find klutzy just fine. It's a struggle - and I'm clearly not feeling competent at it yet - but I'm sticking with this new feeling. Why? There are just too many exciting things I haven't done yet - and I don't want to miss them all just because I have some unrealistic expectation of myself!
I've had a few experiences this last week that have helped me practice feeling okay with feeling dumb.
I've jumped into a sailing club with no boat and rusty, half-learned skills from lessons last year. Not only will I feel dumb in a boat, but I'll need to push myself to make social connections in this club as well. So I'll repeat my new mantra - klutzy is okay.
I'm building a website - with a program new to me and that's supposed to be intuitive, but seems to elude my intuition. I've figured out a lot on my own, but today decided to ask for help - realizing that an hour or two might well save 10-20 hours of struggling time. Klutzy is okay.
I'm trying to teach myself Italian so I can have more fun when I take a trip there later this summer. My tongue gets all tangled up in my teeth and even when I can hear the correct pronunciation, it just won't come out of my mouth. Klutzy va bene.
And the life I want to lead will be filled with many more adventurous new experiences that I just won't be able to master without feeling klutzy first. So I'm determined to focus on the real and tangible thrills of unchartered territory rather than on the angst of incompetence. Klutzy is just a sign that I'm living a full life!
It's a conundrum because at the same time that I crave the new, I am also a person who likes believing she is competent at what she does. Hmmm... Do you see my challenge? How can I feel competent at something I've never done before? And why on earth would I expect this of myself?
Yeah, I can't think of a good reason either. But it does seem to be what I expect. The very idea of not knowing what I'm doing can be daunting enough to keep me from trying something new. And if I don't master it quickly, I could be likely to give it up all together rather than face the uncomfortable klutzy feelings of a beginner.
Dumb, huh! I'm working on it though - and pushing myself to find klutzy just fine. It's a struggle - and I'm clearly not feeling competent at it yet - but I'm sticking with this new feeling. Why? There are just too many exciting things I haven't done yet - and I don't want to miss them all just because I have some unrealistic expectation of myself!
I've had a few experiences this last week that have helped me practice feeling okay with feeling dumb.
I've jumped into a sailing club with no boat and rusty, half-learned skills from lessons last year. Not only will I feel dumb in a boat, but I'll need to push myself to make social connections in this club as well. So I'll repeat my new mantra - klutzy is okay.
I'm building a website - with a program new to me and that's supposed to be intuitive, but seems to elude my intuition. I've figured out a lot on my own, but today decided to ask for help - realizing that an hour or two might well save 10-20 hours of struggling time. Klutzy is okay.
I'm trying to teach myself Italian so I can have more fun when I take a trip there later this summer. My tongue gets all tangled up in my teeth and even when I can hear the correct pronunciation, it just won't come out of my mouth. Klutzy va bene.
And the life I want to lead will be filled with many more adventurous new experiences that I just won't be able to master without feeling klutzy first. So I'm determined to focus on the real and tangible thrills of unchartered territory rather than on the angst of incompetence. Klutzy is just a sign that I'm living a full life!
Monday, May 28, 2007
Monday Moment - Grateful to Remember
It's a beautiful day in my community today, bright, clear skies, warm with a cool and ready breeze - a great day for a parade! And that's exactly how my honey and I - and a substantial number of our population spent this Memorial Day morning.
"It's a slice of Americana." "Good to see you!" "Look at the little ones!" "That high school band is something!" These are all things I heard. There was an attitude of appreciation for every fire truck, ambulance, Brownie, Cub Scout, and parent that marched before us. Families, kids, and even dogs all seemed happy for the excuse to gather - and to express the appreciation that we feel.
The appreciation was most tangible right from the start of the parade as a large group of veterans - many in wheelchairs and quite a few from World War II as well as more recent conflicts - led off. As they wheeled or ambled past, the crowd stood and applauded.
Our community is host to a Veterans Hospital which is the only home many of our local Vets have known since they returned from their service. I couldn't help but think about the lives that these old men had hoped to live when they were young, whole, and hopeful. I'm sure that living out their lives in a VA Hospital wasn't in their plan, and I became aware in a new way of just how much they gave.
Marching along with the group of Vets were a few young moms pushing a stroller or pulling along a wagon occupied with a flag-waving pre-schooler. When I saw the kids, I thought, "I'll bet they haven't served overseas." But then I thought again. As a spectator, I couldn't be certain, but I began to wonder if these were families of soldiers now serving in Iraq. As I considered the possibility, my gratitude grew.
I feel grateful to those whose lives were interrupted in ways they couldn't predict and wouldn't have chosen - as well as those whose lives were lost entirely. I feel grateful to soldiers serving in the best way they know how under what must often seem like insurmountable conditions. I'm grateful to families who must recognize that their husbands, wives, sons, and daughters, mommies, and daddies may not return - and certainly won't ever be quite the same people they were before.
I'm grateful to our community's parade organizers who were astute enough to know that amidst the fun and fanfare of a slice of Americana, we'd also want to demonstrate our gratitude to those who serve - in whatever capacity that may be. I'm grateful to individuals and organizations who are doing far more than I to help soldiers and families feel remembered and honored on days beyond those few we set aside for them. I'm grateful that I have been allowed - due to their diligence and willingness to serve and protect - to live out the life I have planned.
And I'm grateful to live in a community and country that strives to be worthy of the sacrifices that have been made in our name. It's a healthy thing to be grateful - and to strive for higher levels of excellence as well!
"It's a slice of Americana." "Good to see you!" "Look at the little ones!" "That high school band is something!" These are all things I heard. There was an attitude of appreciation for every fire truck, ambulance, Brownie, Cub Scout, and parent that marched before us. Families, kids, and even dogs all seemed happy for the excuse to gather - and to express the appreciation that we feel.
The appreciation was most tangible right from the start of the parade as a large group of veterans - many in wheelchairs and quite a few from World War II as well as more recent conflicts - led off. As they wheeled or ambled past, the crowd stood and applauded.
Our community is host to a Veterans Hospital which is the only home many of our local Vets have known since they returned from their service. I couldn't help but think about the lives that these old men had hoped to live when they were young, whole, and hopeful. I'm sure that living out their lives in a VA Hospital wasn't in their plan, and I became aware in a new way of just how much they gave.
Marching along with the group of Vets were a few young moms pushing a stroller or pulling along a wagon occupied with a flag-waving pre-schooler. When I saw the kids, I thought, "I'll bet they haven't served overseas." But then I thought again. As a spectator, I couldn't be certain, but I began to wonder if these were families of soldiers now serving in Iraq. As I considered the possibility, my gratitude grew.
I feel grateful to those whose lives were interrupted in ways they couldn't predict and wouldn't have chosen - as well as those whose lives were lost entirely. I feel grateful to soldiers serving in the best way they know how under what must often seem like insurmountable conditions. I'm grateful to families who must recognize that their husbands, wives, sons, and daughters, mommies, and daddies may not return - and certainly won't ever be quite the same people they were before.
I'm grateful to our community's parade organizers who were astute enough to know that amidst the fun and fanfare of a slice of Americana, we'd also want to demonstrate our gratitude to those who serve - in whatever capacity that may be. I'm grateful to individuals and organizations who are doing far more than I to help soldiers and families feel remembered and honored on days beyond those few we set aside for them. I'm grateful that I have been allowed - due to their diligence and willingness to serve and protect - to live out the life I have planned.
And I'm grateful to live in a community and country that strives to be worthy of the sacrifices that have been made in our name. It's a healthy thing to be grateful - and to strive for higher levels of excellence as well!
Monday, May 21, 2007
In the past week, I've been learning a lesson about paying attention - and on the benefits of taking action right away instead of putting it off and pretending I haven't noticed. I wish I could say that I've been learning the lesson because I have been taking action - but no. I've been learning the lesson because I'm paying the price of not taking action. Here's what I should have done.
Early last week I noticed that my car was making a tinny, rattling noise as I slowed, accelerated, or idled. Did I quick make a stop at my car dealership? Nope. I thought of it every time I slowed, accelerated, or idled, but not when I could make an appointment. I did finally make a call on Friday and as I described the rattle, my service guy said, "Sounds like the shield on the exhaust. Not a big deal. We'll just take it off. We don't even need an appointment." Whew! It could have been so much worse. And I will get it in - tomorrow or the next day I promise.
More troubling has been a tooth that has been increasingly sensitive to cold - and sometimes heat. I used the most laborious of excuses to procrastinate on this one. 1) I hate going to the dentist. Doesn't everybody? 2) I have a regular appointment scheduled next month; maybe I could put it off till then. 3) It's likely to be a root canal (I've been down this road before) and cha-ching, cha-ching. It's been an expensive couple of months. 4) Maybe it will get better on its own. Right. Well it hasn't gotten better, it's gotten worse. I put it off last week, but after a weekend of considerable pain, I made the call first thing this morning. If I'd taken action earlier, I'd have hurt a lot less!
I did finally take action on another of those long-delayed-to-do-list-items. I finally got myself into the Post Office a week and a half ago to submit my passport application. After all, I'm planning on a trip to Italy this summer, and I shouldn't delay. But of course, because I had delayed, I opted to pay more to have my application expedited. Put something off, the cost is higher. The good news is that my passport arrived very quickly. Just today! Now I have to start studying Italian again!
You'd think we'd learn these lessons. Pay attention. If you notice something wrong - or an opportunity for that matter - deal with it right then. But the painful (literally for me) reality is that many lessons must appear numerous times before we're ready to learn. Such lessons knock, then knock again, then beat the door down - and still we resist learning.
Probably I haven't fully grasped the lesson yet. But before this week is out, a painful tooth and a rattling automobile will be off my to-do-list. And I will have learned five new Italian verbs. I'll probably backslide, but now that these issues have my attention - and I've gone public with my vow - I want them off my plate. Now. And just maybe, I'll feel a little twinge of reminder in my jaw the next time I'm tempted to pretend not to notice something that needs my attention right away. Here's hoping!
What needs your attention right now? Respond to my blog at http://healthypeoplelearn.blogspot.com
And Plan now to participate in my May Telewebinar titled "Relationship Builders". This Thursday, May 24, 7:30 pm. FREE! We'll explore the power of validation and postive enCOURAGEment to build all kinds of relationships - at home, at work, at play!
Many blessings in this darling month of May - and may your teeth be free from pain!
Early last week I noticed that my car was making a tinny, rattling noise as I slowed, accelerated, or idled. Did I quick make a stop at my car dealership? Nope. I thought of it every time I slowed, accelerated, or idled, but not when I could make an appointment. I did finally make a call on Friday and as I described the rattle, my service guy said, "Sounds like the shield on the exhaust. Not a big deal. We'll just take it off. We don't even need an appointment." Whew! It could have been so much worse. And I will get it in - tomorrow or the next day I promise.
More troubling has been a tooth that has been increasingly sensitive to cold - and sometimes heat. I used the most laborious of excuses to procrastinate on this one. 1) I hate going to the dentist. Doesn't everybody? 2) I have a regular appointment scheduled next month; maybe I could put it off till then. 3) It's likely to be a root canal (I've been down this road before) and cha-ching, cha-ching. It's been an expensive couple of months. 4) Maybe it will get better on its own. Right. Well it hasn't gotten better, it's gotten worse. I put it off last week, but after a weekend of considerable pain, I made the call first thing this morning. If I'd taken action earlier, I'd have hurt a lot less!
I did finally take action on another of those long-delayed-to-do-list-items. I finally got myself into the Post Office a week and a half ago to submit my passport application. After all, I'm planning on a trip to Italy this summer, and I shouldn't delay. But of course, because I had delayed, I opted to pay more to have my application expedited. Put something off, the cost is higher. The good news is that my passport arrived very quickly. Just today! Now I have to start studying Italian again!
You'd think we'd learn these lessons. Pay attention. If you notice something wrong - or an opportunity for that matter - deal with it right then. But the painful (literally for me) reality is that many lessons must appear numerous times before we're ready to learn. Such lessons knock, then knock again, then beat the door down - and still we resist learning.
Probably I haven't fully grasped the lesson yet. But before this week is out, a painful tooth and a rattling automobile will be off my to-do-list. And I will have learned five new Italian verbs. I'll probably backslide, but now that these issues have my attention - and I've gone public with my vow - I want them off my plate. Now. And just maybe, I'll feel a little twinge of reminder in my jaw the next time I'm tempted to pretend not to notice something that needs my attention right away. Here's hoping!
What needs your attention right now? Respond to my blog at http://healthypeoplelearn.blogspot.com
And Plan now to participate in my May Telewebinar titled "Relationship Builders". This Thursday, May 24, 7:30 pm. FREE! We'll explore the power of validation and postive enCOURAGEment to build all kinds of relationships - at home, at work, at play!
Many blessings in this darling month of May - and may your teeth be free from pain!
Monday, May 14, 2007
Monday Moment - Sharpen Appreciative Senses
There are two or three days every spring when leaves that were barely present the day before, burst forth with a froth of green - just like they'd always been there. I love those couple of days!
One day, I'm looking at the bones of trees, and the next I'm looking at a leafy canopy. There's a color - one of the original Crayola 64 I'm pretty sure - a vivid yellowy green that Crayola aptly named Spring Green. It's a color that fills me we excitement and satisfaction.
Yup. You guessed it. Spring is without question my favorite season. I love slipping into sandals, leaving the house without a coat, peeking into my flower beds to see what has emerged from the earth today, and the first root beer float of the season!
Spring is a treat for all my senses. Spring feels good. I swear my skin gets itchy to breathe and not be confined to layers of clothing. I love a breeze that lifts my hair and swirls around my skin. And though I know I must protect myself from it with significant SPF, I love the kiss of the sun too - especially as I sink my hands into loamy soil. I try to remember to wear my gardening gloves the rest of the year, but in spring, I can't resist the feel of real soil on my real skin.
Spring smells good - especially now that the lilacs are popping out. Spring tastes oh so yummy good! Strawberries! Asparagus! Rhubarb! Delish! And it's all rich with the anticipation of actual food from the skinny little plants I'll soon be setting out. Yum!
And I good wax poetic - as if I were the very first to try - about how perfectly lovely spring looks. Every drop of color, from the first purple crocus to the vivid red of my Japanese maple - with daffodil brightness and grape hyacinth blueness in between - is cause for celebration.
And as if all the above weren't enough, the sounds of spring burst forth like joy that can't be contained. The best thing about my old dog's wake-up call every morning is the rush of birdsong we hear just outside the back door. It's tangible enough to physically lift one six or eight feet off the ground. Add in the peepers and bullfrogs of the evening, and I, like Gershwin, have to wonder who could ask for anything more.
I'm sure that beauty is just sitting there waiting to be appreciated all the rest of the year. And it's an ongoing goal of mine to be more awake to notice the beautiful whenever and wherever it may appear. In spring, though, I'd have to be entirely senseless to not see, hear, taste, smell, and feel beauty knocking me upside the head. This year, I'm going to make an even greater effort to hold the joys of spring within me, to learn more gratitude, more zest, more utter contentment from the bounty that's presented to me. Now there's an effort that I'm guessing will feel effortless in this darling month of May!
One day, I'm looking at the bones of trees, and the next I'm looking at a leafy canopy. There's a color - one of the original Crayola 64 I'm pretty sure - a vivid yellowy green that Crayola aptly named Spring Green. It's a color that fills me we excitement and satisfaction.
Yup. You guessed it. Spring is without question my favorite season. I love slipping into sandals, leaving the house without a coat, peeking into my flower beds to see what has emerged from the earth today, and the first root beer float of the season!
Spring is a treat for all my senses. Spring feels good. I swear my skin gets itchy to breathe and not be confined to layers of clothing. I love a breeze that lifts my hair and swirls around my skin. And though I know I must protect myself from it with significant SPF, I love the kiss of the sun too - especially as I sink my hands into loamy soil. I try to remember to wear my gardening gloves the rest of the year, but in spring, I can't resist the feel of real soil on my real skin.
Spring smells good - especially now that the lilacs are popping out. Spring tastes oh so yummy good! Strawberries! Asparagus! Rhubarb! Delish! And it's all rich with the anticipation of actual food from the skinny little plants I'll soon be setting out. Yum!
And I good wax poetic - as if I were the very first to try - about how perfectly lovely spring looks. Every drop of color, from the first purple crocus to the vivid red of my Japanese maple - with daffodil brightness and grape hyacinth blueness in between - is cause for celebration.
And as if all the above weren't enough, the sounds of spring burst forth like joy that can't be contained. The best thing about my old dog's wake-up call every morning is the rush of birdsong we hear just outside the back door. It's tangible enough to physically lift one six or eight feet off the ground. Add in the peepers and bullfrogs of the evening, and I, like Gershwin, have to wonder who could ask for anything more.
I'm sure that beauty is just sitting there waiting to be appreciated all the rest of the year. And it's an ongoing goal of mine to be more awake to notice the beautiful whenever and wherever it may appear. In spring, though, I'd have to be entirely senseless to not see, hear, taste, smell, and feel beauty knocking me upside the head. This year, I'm going to make an even greater effort to hold the joys of spring within me, to learn more gratitude, more zest, more utter contentment from the bounty that's presented to me. Now there's an effort that I'm guessing will feel effortless in this darling month of May!
Monday, May 7, 2007
Monday Moment - Climbing Back on The Goal Horse
In the last couple weeks, I've had to learn the lesson of starting over when I missed my target goal. It's a lot less fun than hitting my target, but when I set ambitious goals, I'm not always going to hit them. And then I'm faced with a choice. Do I cover up, fudge, or deny the goal? Do I give up? Or do I accept and forgive my blunders, vow to do better, and get on with it?
Week before last was the first week since before Christmas that I missed doing 300 minutes of exercise. I can make all kinds of excuses. The weather was cold and rainy - not good for walking or working in the garden. I've taken on a new professional role that's required me to fit new responsibilities into my schedule - something I haven't nailed quite yet. An extra day's work - a Saturday conference at which I expended a lot of energy - took up potential exercise time and pooped me out. Even trying a new place for dancing - which might have filled my remaining 30 minutes - didn't work since the band was more suited for listening than dancing.
All those excuses were real. And they were still excuses. I could have pushed myself, could have anticipated the challenges in my schedule, and could have wasted 30 minutes less that I could have used for exercise. Ah well. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. The upshot is that - not counting the 10 minute or so of dancing at the end of the week - I missed my 300 minute goal by 30 minutes.
So, I'm opting to own up, to vow for better performance, and get on with it. I don't let myself carry over minutes from a previous week - but on this one occasion I can get on with adding more than 30 minutes to the following week. Which I have done. Last week's total was 352.
I intended to tell you all this in last week's Monday Moment - but a lot of those same excuses got in my way. Monday went by, and I didn't meet my goal. I thought I'd get it out to you on Tuesday, or even Wednesday, but by then the 'give-up-on-it' option was too tempting. So here I am, trying to remount my goal horse!
Climbing back on the goal horse is something we all have to learn to do. When we set ambitious goals, we won't always hit our target. So we have to learn to recommit ourselves, and not give up - either on the goal itself or on the idea of setting goals. Starting over when you're committed to a goal isn't like starting from the very bottom. The goal itself has raised the floor as has your experience of reaching for the goal. And reaching for the goal gets us closer to what we want than not even having something to reach for.
270 minutes? Missing a Monday Moment? Neither meets the goals I've set. But reaching 270 minutes is a mounting block that makes hitting 352 the next week a lot easier than starting from scratch. And the feeling now that I'm back on my goal horse - well the view is teriffic! I'd recommend it!
Week before last was the first week since before Christmas that I missed doing 300 minutes of exercise. I can make all kinds of excuses. The weather was cold and rainy - not good for walking or working in the garden. I've taken on a new professional role that's required me to fit new responsibilities into my schedule - something I haven't nailed quite yet. An extra day's work - a Saturday conference at which I expended a lot of energy - took up potential exercise time and pooped me out. Even trying a new place for dancing - which might have filled my remaining 30 minutes - didn't work since the band was more suited for listening than dancing.
All those excuses were real. And they were still excuses. I could have pushed myself, could have anticipated the challenges in my schedule, and could have wasted 30 minutes less that I could have used for exercise. Ah well. Coulda, shoulda, woulda. The upshot is that - not counting the 10 minute or so of dancing at the end of the week - I missed my 300 minute goal by 30 minutes.
So, I'm opting to own up, to vow for better performance, and get on with it. I don't let myself carry over minutes from a previous week - but on this one occasion I can get on with adding more than 30 minutes to the following week. Which I have done. Last week's total was 352.
I intended to tell you all this in last week's Monday Moment - but a lot of those same excuses got in my way. Monday went by, and I didn't meet my goal. I thought I'd get it out to you on Tuesday, or even Wednesday, but by then the 'give-up-on-it' option was too tempting. So here I am, trying to remount my goal horse!
Climbing back on the goal horse is something we all have to learn to do. When we set ambitious goals, we won't always hit our target. So we have to learn to recommit ourselves, and not give up - either on the goal itself or on the idea of setting goals. Starting over when you're committed to a goal isn't like starting from the very bottom. The goal itself has raised the floor as has your experience of reaching for the goal. And reaching for the goal gets us closer to what we want than not even having something to reach for.
270 minutes? Missing a Monday Moment? Neither meets the goals I've set. But reaching 270 minutes is a mounting block that makes hitting 352 the next week a lot easier than starting from scratch. And the feeling now that I'm back on my goal horse - well the view is teriffic! I'd recommend it!
Monday, April 23, 2007
Monday Moment for Health - Learning from Loss
In the past week, my thoughts have been about loss. So many tragic events in Virginia, Iraq, and all across the planet have gripped my heart. The loss of so many futures diminishes my soul as John Donne once said. "No man is an island. Any man's death dimishes me..."
And yet, loss of those who are distant from me, is not experienced in the same way as losing one who is close. So I confess that my sorrow for loss of human life has not been as present for me in the last week, as my sadness to lose a dear canine friend.
It's more than a little embarrassing to even mention my loss in the same breath as other tragedies. But it too is real. And I hope that my feelings about my little dog BY help to make me more empathetic to all who have lost someone they loved.
Each loss in my life has been different and I've reacted to each in different ways. But one thing I've noticed is that anytime I lose a human or an animal that I love, my soul echoes with other losses I've felt. And still amidst those sad echoes is a sense of privilege that I got to share all those lives at all.
BY and her brother TC (TCBY. Get it?) literally followed me home nearly 15 years ago, fell in love with Dave on sight, and wormed their way into our hearts until we were theirs - despite the fact that we had no business having three dogs! If they'd been well-behaved dogs, it might have been different. But each had unruly traits that made our household noisy, chaotic, and sometimes smelly! It didn't matter. We loved them all.
In the years since Dave - and then our oldest dog - died, BY got sweeter all the time. For almost a year now, she's been on heavy doses of heart medications and the vet has been warning us that she had only months left. Those months stretched out to almost a year. For every little relapse there seemed to be a rebound. It sometimes felt like she'd keep going and going - just not willing to leave me.
But even big hearts give out eventually, and when BY's quality of life took a steep decline, it was time. I'd never had to have an animal euthanized before, and though it's not something I look forward to doing ever again, I found it a process filled with dignity, respect, and love. It was a privilege to feel her soft white fur against my cheek as she slipped away.
At Dave's memorial service, I shared a book called Dog Heaven by Cynthia Rylant. In dog heaven, there are fields for running, geese to chase, clouds to sleep on, and tables to lie under while angels eat their supper. And for BY, there is Dave who will give her pets, popcorn, and lots of laptime.
Actually Dave and BY were both great greeters and comforters, so I'd bet they've been assigned to the welcoming committee. Dave will play rock and roll for all our young students and soldiers, and when they cry for the life they left behind, BY will gently lick away their tears.
And yet, loss of those who are distant from me, is not experienced in the same way as losing one who is close. So I confess that my sorrow for loss of human life has not been as present for me in the last week, as my sadness to lose a dear canine friend.
It's more than a little embarrassing to even mention my loss in the same breath as other tragedies. But it too is real. And I hope that my feelings about my little dog BY help to make me more empathetic to all who have lost someone they loved.
Each loss in my life has been different and I've reacted to each in different ways. But one thing I've noticed is that anytime I lose a human or an animal that I love, my soul echoes with other losses I've felt. And still amidst those sad echoes is a sense of privilege that I got to share all those lives at all.
BY and her brother TC (TCBY. Get it?) literally followed me home nearly 15 years ago, fell in love with Dave on sight, and wormed their way into our hearts until we were theirs - despite the fact that we had no business having three dogs! If they'd been well-behaved dogs, it might have been different. But each had unruly traits that made our household noisy, chaotic, and sometimes smelly! It didn't matter. We loved them all.
In the years since Dave - and then our oldest dog - died, BY got sweeter all the time. For almost a year now, she's been on heavy doses of heart medications and the vet has been warning us that she had only months left. Those months stretched out to almost a year. For every little relapse there seemed to be a rebound. It sometimes felt like she'd keep going and going - just not willing to leave me.
But even big hearts give out eventually, and when BY's quality of life took a steep decline, it was time. I'd never had to have an animal euthanized before, and though it's not something I look forward to doing ever again, I found it a process filled with dignity, respect, and love. It was a privilege to feel her soft white fur against my cheek as she slipped away.
At Dave's memorial service, I shared a book called Dog Heaven by Cynthia Rylant. In dog heaven, there are fields for running, geese to chase, clouds to sleep on, and tables to lie under while angels eat their supper. And for BY, there is Dave who will give her pets, popcorn, and lots of laptime.
Actually Dave and BY were both great greeters and comforters, so I'd bet they've been assigned to the welcoming committee. Dave will play rock and roll for all our young students and soldiers, and when they cry for the life they left behind, BY will gently lick away their tears.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Monday Moment for Health 4/16/07 Clearing Out!
I cleaned out a closet this week! Ok, that's not a big deal for a lot of folks, but for me it's a really big deal! And I shredded old documents from the last century ('97,'98,'99) too! Another big deal - for me! I was on a roll - and no I didn't have a fever! I know some of you might be wondering what on earth came over me!
You see I am genetically and environmentally programmed to be a pack-rat! I'm a keeper. It's nearly embarrassing how much stuff I keep. Only nearly embarrassing though, because the values of resourcefulness and thrift were deeply embedded in me by my depression era parents, and I can find a source of pride that balances out any potential embarrassment.
But even I have limits. And goals to clear clutter and simplify my life. In easily accessible stages! One closet at a time!
The closet in question has been a catch-all for crafts, wrapping paper and bows, all kinds of stuff that doesn't have a better home. I need that kind of closet, but this one hasn't yet been set up to function as effectively as it needs to. So out everything came (and some of it won't go back in) including the ineffective shelving system. I patched up the old holes, painted it so it looks crisp and clean, and when new shelves are installed, I have hopes that my storage system will become just that - a system!
In the process, I couldn't help but notice something that frequently gets in the way of my organizing and/or clearing out. To clean up a mess, one almost always has to create - at least temporarily - a bigger mess! I'm so much happier living with a messy closet than I am with all the contents of that closet spread around the room! In fact, the bigger mess has proved to be a motivator. I wasted no time - slapping two coats of paint on that pup - just as quick as drying time would allow. And now I can't wait for the 'project guy' to put up the shelves so I can continue the clean-up process!
In the meantime, I'm trying - and it doesn't come easily to me - to clear and de-clutter other parts of the house. I stashed beads, findings, pliers, scissors, and other assorted signs of creativity out of sight this weekend, and I'm determined to find some clear desk space before this day is out. Where might all this clearing fever lead me?
I'm hopeful - always in spite of great odds and mail that brings too much paper into my life daily - that this time I'll do more than just clear, I'll create a system in which I continually ask myself 'do I really need to keep this now?' Hope on, hope ever!
You see I am genetically and environmentally programmed to be a pack-rat! I'm a keeper. It's nearly embarrassing how much stuff I keep. Only nearly embarrassing though, because the values of resourcefulness and thrift were deeply embedded in me by my depression era parents, and I can find a source of pride that balances out any potential embarrassment.
But even I have limits. And goals to clear clutter and simplify my life. In easily accessible stages! One closet at a time!
The closet in question has been a catch-all for crafts, wrapping paper and bows, all kinds of stuff that doesn't have a better home. I need that kind of closet, but this one hasn't yet been set up to function as effectively as it needs to. So out everything came (and some of it won't go back in) including the ineffective shelving system. I patched up the old holes, painted it so it looks crisp and clean, and when new shelves are installed, I have hopes that my storage system will become just that - a system!
In the process, I couldn't help but notice something that frequently gets in the way of my organizing and/or clearing out. To clean up a mess, one almost always has to create - at least temporarily - a bigger mess! I'm so much happier living with a messy closet than I am with all the contents of that closet spread around the room! In fact, the bigger mess has proved to be a motivator. I wasted no time - slapping two coats of paint on that pup - just as quick as drying time would allow. And now I can't wait for the 'project guy' to put up the shelves so I can continue the clean-up process!
In the meantime, I'm trying - and it doesn't come easily to me - to clear and de-clutter other parts of the house. I stashed beads, findings, pliers, scissors, and other assorted signs of creativity out of sight this weekend, and I'm determined to find some clear desk space before this day is out. Where might all this clearing fever lead me?
I'm hopeful - always in spite of great odds and mail that brings too much paper into my life daily - that this time I'll do more than just clear, I'll create a system in which I continually ask myself 'do I really need to keep this now?' Hope on, hope ever!
Monday Moment for Health 4/9/07 Take a Break!
My students are on spring break this week. They care for kids either before or after school, so during school vacations, they either are off work altogether or they work twice as hard as usual because they care for kids all day long. Our classes - to prepare students to earn their School-Age Care Credential - are scheduled in the late morning between before- and after-school care. When school's not in session, my students would either have to take time off work or time off their vacation to attend class, and neither would be fair. So we schedule a break then too.
And I'm dancing for joy just as much as my students, I can tell you! Not only am I not teaching three different classes on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, I'm not preparing for those classes or giving them any thought whatsoever! I am loving the break - even though I also love teaching the classes!
Now on this spring break, you won't find me on the road to someplace warmer. I'm still working in my home office as I do when I'm not on break. But with such a different attitude!
I'm attending to details that have been put off for weeks. I'm getting a good start on a new professional endeavor. I may even go so far as to sort, and clear, and file the swarm of paper that settles around my life and my office. I'll swim more often this week, and I'll go out to lunch with a friend. I'm practically giddy with all I'm doing this week that it doesn't feel like I have energy for on weeks when I teach!
As I noticed this vacation attitude creeping over me - while I'm pounding out work - I started reflecting on how healthy it is to take a break. A break helps us look at our work and our lives in a different, fresher, re-created way.
And while I fully recommend a week or two in the tropics, just about any kind of break is good for our souls. I frequently take "head vacation" breaks to imagine myself in the tropics, and those mini-breaks of just a few minutes are also good for my soul. At this time of year, I like to take "garden breaks" where I saunter around the garden marveling at what has sprouted today. I've even read where time or stress experts support just staring into space for five minutes at a time. I can do that!
However we take a break, we ought to remember just how good it feels and how much it helps. So we ought to do it more often! While I'm not a fan of MacDonald's they were definitely onto something when they said, "You deserve a break today!" You do! I hope you'll savor it as I'm savoring my break this week!
And I'm dancing for joy just as much as my students, I can tell you! Not only am I not teaching three different classes on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday mornings, I'm not preparing for those classes or giving them any thought whatsoever! I am loving the break - even though I also love teaching the classes!
Now on this spring break, you won't find me on the road to someplace warmer. I'm still working in my home office as I do when I'm not on break. But with such a different attitude!
I'm attending to details that have been put off for weeks. I'm getting a good start on a new professional endeavor. I may even go so far as to sort, and clear, and file the swarm of paper that settles around my life and my office. I'll swim more often this week, and I'll go out to lunch with a friend. I'm practically giddy with all I'm doing this week that it doesn't feel like I have energy for on weeks when I teach!
As I noticed this vacation attitude creeping over me - while I'm pounding out work - I started reflecting on how healthy it is to take a break. A break helps us look at our work and our lives in a different, fresher, re-created way.
And while I fully recommend a week or two in the tropics, just about any kind of break is good for our souls. I frequently take "head vacation" breaks to imagine myself in the tropics, and those mini-breaks of just a few minutes are also good for my soul. At this time of year, I like to take "garden breaks" where I saunter around the garden marveling at what has sprouted today. I've even read where time or stress experts support just staring into space for five minutes at a time. I can do that!
However we take a break, we ought to remember just how good it feels and how much it helps. So we ought to do it more often! While I'm not a fan of MacDonald's they were definitely onto something when they said, "You deserve a break today!" You do! I hope you'll savor it as I'm savoring my break this week!
Monday Moment for Health 3/26/07 Transitions
I once had a colleague who said, "If you have a day off, then the next day you'll have an off day." I've never been sure I share his definition of 'off', but certainly I regularly experience transition challenges when I travel, from weekend to weekday, from working on one project to working on another.
Today has been such a transition for me. I arrived home late this morning exemplifying what must have inspired the term 'red-eye' to describe an overnight flight. I was in Phoenix for work (and ticked off another state on my life list! Only 5 more to go!) and squeezed in a couple more days so I could actually see more than the square mile surrounding the conference hotel.
And come to think of it, I had no difficulty whatsoever transitioning from work to play. But play to work - ah that's a different matter. Especially when you add in a mostly sleepless night and time zone readjustment.
I've learned to anticipate a pokey re-entry into my lilfe - and accomodate it as much as I can. I try not to schedule anything major my first day or two home, and if I need to sleep, I sleep. Today I attended to only things that were absolutely necessary - and let the rest go until tomorrow. (Sending you Monday's Moment is necessary or I wouldn't be doing it now!)
I do find it helps to fully unpack the bags, throw in a load of laundry, glance through the pile of mail, and share any treasures I accumulated on my trip. My head isn't ready to be here, so why not revisit being there while it's fresh in my mind.
It also helps to savor the sweet things of home - such happy canine friends, nothing else at all that feels like my own bed, a cozy chat with my bestest bud. And just a hint of anticipation for the week to come. I don't pretend to do much about the week to come, but taking a peek helps soften the shock as it arrives full force tomorrow morning.
So, after a substantial nap today, a few experimental toots on my new Native American flute, a private showing of the trip's photos, and a quiet dinner prepared by my guy for his prodigal woman, I don't think I'd call this an 'off' day. I'd prefer to think of it as an 'extra' day - an investment that will pay off - surely - tomorrow! Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Today has been such a transition for me. I arrived home late this morning exemplifying what must have inspired the term 'red-eye' to describe an overnight flight. I was in Phoenix for work (and ticked off another state on my life list! Only 5 more to go!) and squeezed in a couple more days so I could actually see more than the square mile surrounding the conference hotel.
And come to think of it, I had no difficulty whatsoever transitioning from work to play. But play to work - ah that's a different matter. Especially when you add in a mostly sleepless night and time zone readjustment.
I've learned to anticipate a pokey re-entry into my lilfe - and accomodate it as much as I can. I try not to schedule anything major my first day or two home, and if I need to sleep, I sleep. Today I attended to only things that were absolutely necessary - and let the rest go until tomorrow. (Sending you Monday's Moment is necessary or I wouldn't be doing it now!)
I do find it helps to fully unpack the bags, throw in a load of laundry, glance through the pile of mail, and share any treasures I accumulated on my trip. My head isn't ready to be here, so why not revisit being there while it's fresh in my mind.
It also helps to savor the sweet things of home - such happy canine friends, nothing else at all that feels like my own bed, a cozy chat with my bestest bud. And just a hint of anticipation for the week to come. I don't pretend to do much about the week to come, but taking a peek helps soften the shock as it arrives full force tomorrow morning.
So, after a substantial nap today, a few experimental toots on my new Native American flute, a private showing of the trip's photos, and a quiet dinner prepared by my guy for his prodigal woman, I don't think I'd call this an 'off' day. I'd prefer to think of it as an 'extra' day - an investment that will pay off - surely - tomorrow! Keep your fingers crossed for me!
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