Hearts

Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside awakens. –Carl Jung

Looking into your heart seems easy enough. Family’s there. Your friends. A Xchotal chocolate bar. But searching deeper takes looking beyond the cocoa bean.

Besides a cup of French roast, what really wakes you up? What makes you tick? Society gives us plenty of mixed signals about what we’re supposed to want. Love and peace? A nice car? Skinny jeans? It gets confusing.

But if we take the time to reflect, we know the deepest part of our soul seeks something special. The trick is figuring out what it is. To find purpose, Jung reminds us to look inside for the answer. Our hearts can lead us. Give yourself a valentine and look. Plus, it has less calories than chocolate.

State of the Union: A Kid’s Perspective

Check out that guy, he’s asleep!

Why aren’t those guys standing. You mean if they don’t get their way, they don’t stand? What are they, kindergarters?

Why is the lady behind Obama standing so much? She’s getting way more exercise than anyone else. Her legs are going to be stronger than Ellie’s.

You go Girl, stand again!

Why are the people in the front all in black and never standing? You mean they’re the judges? I’d where pink and green if I was one of them.

Is Lindsey Vonn there? (if you don’t know who Lindsey is, call Ellie)

Hey, he mentioned schools. Does he mean Silverthorne? You mean he just talked about our school on TV? That’s so cool.

Is anyone there who’s not old?

Look at that lady, she looks like a banana.

She does not.

She looks like a lemon.

How long is this going to take?

Seriously, can’t we watch something else?

And adults like this stuff?

Helping Haiti

Love Knows No Boundaries…

Although we live a world a part from Haiti, the earthquake hit this mountain town hard. A local man was pulled from the rubble last week. Alive. He was one of the lucky few. I’ve worked with Jim on a few community events, and he is a remarkable, giving person. He was in Haiti doing relief work and fortunately, he’s safely back in Colorado.

Disasters happen, but they hit home when you know someone directly effected. In this small, small, world we have instant access to anywhere on the planet via the internet at any time. We don’t live in a bubble, but rather in hundreds of connected ways. And, we are affected by our actions always. Whether we know it or not.

I was disheartened and shocked when Rush Limbaugh made a public comment telling people not to donate to Haiti. Shame on him for his self-righteous exclusiveness. I believe God is with us all — in our hearts at all times. And our hearts cross all cultural, religious, and economic lines. Someone much wiser than I said “Love knows no boundaries.” Our hearts are full of love.

Please reach out with your heart and help Haiti.

The Help

We are just two people. Not that much separates us. Not nearly as much as I’d thought. –The Help by Kathryn Stockett

In honor of Martin Luther King, my blog takes a different approach this entry.

Someone told me The Help was a book about Southern Black maids, and the women they served during the early 1960’s. It is. But it’s so much more.

Kathryn Stockett wrote a fictional book about Jackson, Mississippi during desegregation. She wrote about mothers and daughters. Race. Culture. And identity. She wrote a story about the poor and the rich. About suffering and triumph.

She writes of women.

There are so many things I could say about The Help, but I’ll say only one. Read it.

Who needs a break?

You Deserve a Break Today -McDonald’s Slogan

If you’ve grabbed your glasses to read this blog, you’re old enough to remember McDonald’s slogan. Don’t we all deserve a break today? I know I do. In fact, you might not want to read on. I’m a little whiney this morning.

The holidays were magical. But a black cloud hovered around the corners of the spell. In the past three weeks, our house turned from this old house to this bad house. A cheap tub, an even cheaper sink, and a broken dishwasher caused major leak damage in three different rooms. I broke a tooth, a runaway boat crashed into our yard (odd, but true), my dog ate a bone that caused an infected tooth, and a tire flew off my husband’s car. The stomach flu plagued the entire family, and yours truly made dandy friends with a scrub brush. Blah, blah, blah, right?

BUT, it’s a new year and I’m tagging along behind Mcee D’s jingle. While my waist line doesn’t need the two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese all on a sesame seed bun (who remembers that little ditty?), my mind needs a break. I need to take pause and be grateful. Maybe not for the vomit, but for the rest of my health. For my family. For my friends. For all of it.

By finding a few minutes to remember the good, the bad doesn’t seem quite so bad. So take your break today and remember, it is a happy new year.

Ho Ho Ho…

The trick is in what one emphasizes. We either make ourselves miserable, or we make ourselves happy. The amount of work is the same. –Carlos Castaneda

Well if the amount of work is the same, I’ll take happy. Any day. Truth be told, life’s been a little rough lately. Like most moms, extra work and not much time have dominated my life. Holiday energy can be great, until it’s not. I love this time of year and yet the gifts to buy, decorations to adorn, and the meals to make can overwhelm even the superist of super moms. So why do we do it?

Like Carlos, I’ve reaped a new perspective and do what I love. I sing Falalala very loud. Write. And I spend time with my family and friends. What I don’t like? Overly tired kids.  Bah Humbug people. Traffic. Plus, one cookie party is enough, isn’t it?  Who cares if we skip bows and ribbons? Isn’t it more important to cut paper snowflakes with our kids than prepare the Martha Meal? Let’s cut down on the holiday hubbub that makes us miserable and spend the extra time making happy.

Maybe we should all order pizza to celebrate. After all Canadian Bacon’s a distant cousin of the holiday ham, right? Either way, emphasizing the happy may be the key to survival during the season of light. Think Joy. And above all the reason for the season.

Passion or bust

“Great dancers aren’t great because of their technique; they

are great because of their passion.”

I’m not sure who said this, but God love ‘em.

In my family, I’m known as the Ohio skier. Translation—bad. But my response is always the same, “who cares? I love it more.” Given my eldest would give up junk food for the rest of her life in order to ski, I’m not sure this is true. However, I stand by the passion plug. Love what you do.

Today, we skied for the first time as a family. Ellie, the daughter who’d sell her teenage soul for a powder day, has been out with her race team a bunch. But the rest of us have only just begun.

Honestly, I wasn’t’ sure I was ready to ski. After all, the Halloween witch just packed up her broomstick. Getting up before the sun on a Saturday wasn’t a thrill either. But, gliding down that hill? Not much can compare. Fresh air, steep slopes, and Texan skiers whooping it up? Well, now that’s skiing. Okay, maybe we could delete the Texans, but the rest of it? Pure passion. Do what you love.

Can you master your attitude?

“You cannot control what happens to you, but you can

control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in

that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it

to master you.”- -Brian Tracy

 

Wouldn’t it be great to tune it out? Really, who wants to hear the kids fight over who took the biggest piece of cake? Do I care about the one hundred reasons they didn’t clean their room? I don’t. I could do without the whining and the fighting and the endless bit about life not being fair. So, let’s turn the volume down, eh?

Be careful what you wish for. This week, one of my good mom friends had surgery to help her from going deaf. She’s had days when her equilibrium’s been so thrown that she felt like she’d been tossed on a wild carpet ride, minus the drugs. It’s hard to imagine a world without noise. Some days, we all wish for it. But when you are brought face to face with such reality, you think again.

My friend is brave. Braver than I. She’s tackled her loss with incredible grace and spirit. She can’t control what’s happened to her. But she’s certainly handled her attitude. Of course, she’s depressed. Sad. Angry. Who wouldn’t be? I’m sure Beethoven and Helen Keller felt the same way. But look what they did. We do have the ability to make lemonade, when life gives us lemons. Like my friend, maybe we should try.

 

Why bother with birthdays?

We don’t stop playing because we grow old; We grow old because we stop playing!

-George Bernard Shaw

My girlfriends and I caught the birthday badness bug today. We woke up a friend who turned fifty, at 5:50 a.m.. Why not 5:50 in the p.m. you ask? We’re all asking the same question.

It’s darn hard to be novel as we get older. We’ve had birthday bashes at bars, restaurants, and around a few barbecues. But waking up someone in bed when the sky won’t shine? Not been done.

Turning fifty is a milestone. At a half a century, we begin a slow decline. Or do we? Sure our skin shrivels and our bones snap a little louder, but who, besides Glamour magazine, says that’s so bad?

Call it denial, but I’d rather be nearing 50 than 12 almost any day. By fifty we know who we are, live with people we love, and eat Fruitloops with marshmallows when we feel like it. Who’d trade that for a future of acne medicine and driving classes?

By now I’ve seen people tackle age with downright defiance. Walking into Sephora’s is a bit like walking into M&M headquarters with a two-year-old. Racks of wrinkle cream and soothing serums line the walls. But we buy into the marketing mania anyway and rub gel on our faces and highlight our hair.

Sadly, some folks begin to settle into slow boredom as they age. They live out their days like Eeyore, when nothing goes quite right. However, there are a few lucky souls who live like little kids at a carnival around birthday time. Although purple princess balloons may be replaced with black, “you’re old as shit” posters, a birthday has the potential to let us laugh. And eat icing before the sun rises. The people who play, who embrace the higher double digits with grace and joy find the secret to maturity.

Why Keep Old Friends?

It’s no good trying to keep up old friendships. It’s painful for both sides. The fact is, one grows out of people, and the only thing is to face it.

–W. Somerset Maugham

When I first found this quote I almost spilled my coffee. What was Maugham thinking? Just because he had a horrible past with friends who stuck his hands in warm water to make him pee, doesn’t give him the right to tell us to ditch our friends of yesteryear.

Because my twenty-fifth high school reunion was held two weeks ago, I’ve been given particular pause to ponder. Reunions can be odd. Thrown face to face with the bitches and belles, the bullies and bad guys can make people a little crazy. Before gathering to reminisce, folks shop for the perfect outfit while others stock up on Tums. If men still have hair, they dye it peculiar shades of blond. Lots of people drink, and others stalk old girlfriends. So why do it to ourselves? Why bother?

Weeks before our latest reunion a friend refused to attend, or ever attend any future reunion. Too overwhelming. News of her dissent circulated at our reunion and created a small uproar. “Who does she think she is to never talk to us again? What was so horrible? People change! There are no cliques anymore. We’re too old for that.” While these sentiments may or may not be true, I was surprised at the wave of displeasure her words generated. Why indeed, keep contact with old friends? Like Maugham said, new friends can replace the old.

Although I could not afford to fly to Ohio for this recent reunion, I have kept contact with former friends. Lots of them. I argue with a few, laugh with a few, and even cry with the best of them. They take me to my roots and remind me of both the person I was and of the person I have become. “Old” friends show me the path I’ve chosen and help explain the journey I’ve taken.

While I may laugh at the guy with hair plugs or roll my eyes at the beauty queen who continues to work the room, I relish in the company of old. No one knows you quite like an old friend. They keep us.