Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time. Then your time on earth will be filled with glory. –Betty Smith

Look at everything as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time. Then your time on earth will be filled with glory. –Betty Smith

Yesterday Olivia lost another tooth. She now has seven holes in the front of her mouth, which makes for a convenient reason not to eat applies, carrots, or celery sticks. Chocolate pudding will do just fine, she says.

Losing a tooth is a magical moment. It’s both exciting and a bit nerve racking. Big kid teeth. Never again will tiny white chips fall out, unless of course, you play hockey. Losing teeth is a rite of passage. Say hello to grown up teeth and goodbye to the old. Life continues that way.

It’s a shame we can’t greet each goodbye, each hello, each experience with the same zest that a 6-year-old does, when say, writing a note to the tooth fairy. How lovely it would be if we could say all our hellos and goodbyes to people and possessions in our life with utter possibility.

“Dear Tooth Fairy, Will my tooth be put in you castle? Which room will it go in? I hope you set it next to the skis.” Love, Olivia. And magically, a reply and a dollar appear under a pillow. That’s glorious possibility.

Wouldn’t it be nice to say goodbye and hello in only the way a first grader looks in the mirror after losing a tooth, saying hello and goodbye to a whole new look? A new, magical beginning.

Chocolate for Jesse

Find the good. It’s all around you. Find it. Showcase it and you’ll start believing it.”
–Jesse Owens

Does this mean that if I start finding chocolate I’ll get more? Like on Easter morning? My youngest daughter would like this analysis. Chocolate breeds more chocolate. Oh heaven, you found me.

I’ve heard about the law of attraction many times. And, I believe it. Not in magical chocolate appearing (wouldn’t that be great?!), but in getting what you give. Little kids constantly remind us of this.

Yesterday, a friend told me her three-year-old dropped her juice at Target and said, “Oh shit.” What happened to toddlers saying, “Uh oh.” Or “Boo Boo?” Our kids reflect who we are time and time again. And the times, they are a changing.

In a day and age when technology pounds us with stimulation, cars lock the grid, and people round corners from every angle, we do get a lot. A lot of junk.

How do we respond to all this stimulation? Can we find good in the face of buzzing idiots? Instead of flipping off the snowboarder who cuts me off, can I wave? For me, it’s hard to be kind to snowboarders, but I’ll give it a go.

Is it possible to give goodness in the face of it all? I hope so. While the outcome might not be more chocolate, I think we can find simple abundance at every corner. And who knows, maybe it will be just as sweet.