Thrift Book Reverie

** I wrote this post about 6 months ago, but rediscovered it while filing through some of my unfinished pieces.  It felt really applicable to the way I've been feeling lately, so here it is. **

It’s funny the way things get under your skin.  And not in the way that you think, where you feel irritated by it or mad; more in a way that you feel energized in such a way that you can’t stop thinking about it.  Do you ever find yourself in a place, surrounded by an energy that just motivates you to do something?  Maybe the Olympics does it for you, motivating you in the start of the year to keep focused on that new goal you've made or maintain commitment to that new exercise routine you've started.  I find that I have that feeling of inspiration or motivation at seemingly random but frequent intervals.  I’m not sure if it’s because I am constantly searching for something to do with myself or if it’s because I am trying to allow myself to be open to things.  Either way, I find myself being inspired by things all the time, but often struggle with maintaining the energy of that motivation for longer than a couple of hours.  Story of my life.

This morning I stopped by a used book store near my house in search of a specific title.  In putting together a gift for my girls turning 30 this year, I have been on the hunt for a book I read about a while ago called 30 Things Ever Woman Should Have or Know By the Time She’s 30.  Apparently we shouldn’t have learned anything about brevity – which is good, because I struggle with that concept.  At any rate, I had never been to this book store before and was reveling in the moment of quiet, child free book perusal once I walked in.  Savannah was at daycare and it was the first time I let myself wander into such a place in a really long time. 

I immediately felt the warmth of the words, sentences and ideas filling the room.  I looked around and was in awe of how beautiful the books looked on display and how comfortable it felt in there.  I easily could have lost the entire day in that store.  Anyway, somewhere between The Best American Short Stories of 2007 and The Purpose Driven Life I realized that there was not a single copy of the book I was looking for.  Disappointing, yes, but what I really felt as I read through the titles along the shelved walls was nostalgia and happiness.  A renewed sense of something I love and have loved all my life.  I came across titles I hadn’t seen in forever – works of literature that had, at one point or another, made me laugh or cry or reconsider a previously held understanding of something I thought I knew.  I found myself, just for a moment, wishing that I was back in college with my copy of Bastard Out of Carolina, under a tree on the quad with nothing but a Nalgene full of water, a snack and the time to read a book.  No pressures, except the expectation that I would finish the book and have something meaningful to say about it by the time class rolled around.  Oh the beauty of hindsight – realizing now what a beautiful thing it was to spend a day like that.  What I wouldn’t give to have reading a book and writing a paper be some of my only responsibilities for the day.  Isn’t it true that we so often take for granted the gifts we have in the present?  I’m currently trying to get better at that, but it doesn’t stop me from lingering over thoughts of what fun I’ve had in the past. (And, yes, I recognize that the fun of which I speak in this instance includes the activities of reading and writing.  Nerd alert!)

As I stood in the aisle, surrounded by books wearing the signs of their use, I kept thinking about all of the books I have read in the past and all the ones I still have to read collecting dust on my shelf at home.  I couldn’t bring myself to walk out with any more, cringing at the thought of those I already have at home, which I purchased in many other stores like this one and still haven’t once cracked the covers.  In that realization I had two thoughts:
 
1) I really need to find a way to work reading back into my daily life, and

2) I should be well on my way to writing something substantial by now.

Both of these thoughts made me sad for a moment.  Sad that it is so hard for me to organize and motivate myself to do things sometimes, like read and write, and sad that, although I have all of these thoughts in my head I can’t make thematic sense of them to put together a complete piece of work.  Once those thoughts were through my head, though, I continued to look at the books on the shelf before me.  Some of them may sit here for the next 2 years without even a glance and others that will get purchased like my own at home and never be read.  Who’s to say that if I wrote a book it wouldn’t end up as some random worn paperback on the back corner shelf of a thrift book shop?  That's not a defeatist attitude, by the way, just an honest notion.  Not exactly a motivational thought, but still one I have as my eyes graze over titles like Oral Sadism and the Vegetarian Personality and Worst. Person. Ever. that have probably only been sold to a handful of people who turned it right over to the thrift dealer.  

I snapped myself out of it.  What kind of outlook is that anyway?  If I am going to write something and try to get it published, I have to realize that, in the end, I am really doing it for me.  Then, I have to be comfortable with the idea that maybe only a handful of people, outside of those who will buy it out of support for me, will read it.  If I'm honest, to have something I have written bound and in print will be, in and of itself, a true victory - I'll worry about distribution once that's a legitimate concern of mine.  I guess I have to remind myself that writing, like teaching, goes like this: if you can reach at least one person in a positive way and effect some change for or in them, you have done your job.  With that realization I turned on my heel, let my fingers graze the books as I walked past them, and took myself out the door and back to the house.  I will write a book one day, when I am ready and have something useful to say about something I know a thing or two about.  Until then, I will just keep practicing.  In the end, I didn’t find the book that I wanted in that thrift shop.  Regardless, I think I still may have found some of what I didn’t realize I was also looking for.

A Long Needed Change

I make things.  It's sort what I do - something I'm proud of.  I have always joked about this with people, typically when I first meet them and they have experienced something I have created.  I say, "Oh, it's nothing, I make things - yummy foods, crafty things, beautiful babies, long flowing locks, the list goes on."  So that's the joke. 

But, for real, I love to make things.  One item on this list that I end up creating, though, that doesn't take much effort and tends to be more inadvertent than anything, is my hair.  I have always had exceptionally long hair.  It grows at an alarming rate.  When I was younger, I didn't get my hair cut or done very often because it wasn't that important to me and I felt like it was an expense that we probably could do without.  Plus, in the frigid Northeast, super long locks kept my neck warm on days when I forgot my scarf.  When I got to college, though, my Sophomore year roommate saw a picture of me from 5th grade in which I looked almost exactly the same as the present day.  Between that and my admission that I couldn't remember the last time I had my hair cut, she dragged me to the mall, made me cover my eyes and, behind my back, told the stylist how much hair to cut off.  Now, of course, I was a willing participant in this adventure and felt a sense of freedom and relief with my new, very short hairdo; however, it took her motivation (and her car) to get me in the chair in the first place.  For that I was so grateful.

Since then, I have had a handful of experiences in cutting my hair off, but usually after having let it grow for what many might consider an inappropriately long amount of time.  These days, if my hair is crazy long, it is probably because I have every intention of getting it cut and, inevitably, don't.  And not because I don't want to get my hair cut, it is just the item on my "To Do" list that tends to get kicked to the bottom over other, higher priority items.  I had every intention of cutting off my lengthy locks back in May before my husband came home from deployment.  However, at his request, I kept it long until he got home, swearing I'd cut it within a week of his return.  Needless to say, that didn't happen.  I got so swept up in his homecoming, the trips we took and the huge move to Monterey, my hair just didn't make the cut.  Ha, *ba dum bum*. 

Well, friends, here I am again at the end of a long road of hair making and have finally gotten up the gumption to cut off my long lengths.  I owe it all to my friend Kristin, who I was visiting in Steamboat Springs, CO on my first momcation away from my kiddo.  She had already scheduled a hair appointment for herself and, knowing my desire to make this much needed change, asked if while her hair was setting if I could get my hair cut.  The stylist, who was appropriately named Savannah, jumped at the opportunity to help me recreate my look.  As always, any time I cut my hair off I donate whatever I can.  Last time I did Locks of Love, so this time I chose to do Pantene Beautiful Lengths.  After over 2 years of growth, with quick trims here and there, I give you the full length:

When I stand up, it touches my butt...

The 2 12 inch ponies

And the after shot! 

 

So, there you have it!  14 inches later (the 12 inche ponytails plus what was taken off to straighten and layer it) and people keep telling me it is still really long.  I have to admit, even after two weeks, it feels like it's practically at my ears.  I really love it, though, and with my aim to make 2014 a fantastic year, I have a renewed commitment to make an effort in this area!  A weight has been lifted and I'm starting the new year off right.  Anyone want to take bets on how long I end up going before I get around to cutting it again?









Where the Time Goes

We are 3 weeks into the New Year and already I feel like this year is blazing forward, with time just bleeding away like a wound I can’t keep contained.  There’s not enough time!  Ok, take a deep breath… There is just something about the New Year that really motivates me and puts innumerable ideas in my head about things I want to accomplish.  Living in Monterey, where there is ALWAYS something going on, doesn’t help the growing list of activities I line up for myself.  The only problem with that is that I get so excited about so many ideas that all of a sudden I’m stressed out and overwhelmed about getting them done, when I really should be enjoying each thing as I do it.  I guess one of the promises I must make to myself in 2014 is to slow down, enjoy the moment, and not worry about doing everything at once.  It will all happen eventually.  Just breathe.

With that in mind, this post is about just that idea.  For the last several days, Monterey has been experiencing some unusually high temperatures for January.  We are talking high 70’s and even into the 80’s, which has caught me a little off guard.  When we moved here, I thought it was going to be cooler, colder even, and this heat wave has me a little befuddled.  Despite that, I’ve felt determined to get out there and use the sunshine, as I was taught to do growing up in a place that doesn’t necessarily get so much of it this time of year. 

Living in Monterey has presented so many new things about coastal living that I hadn’t previously appreciated.  We live just a few blocks from the water and, although I am not the biggest of beach bums, I do appreciate the beauty and wonder that the ocean provides.  On days like these, instead of heading to the aquarium where I’m hard pressed to pry the kiddo away, we have been walking down to the tide pools at low tide to see what kinds of cool things we can see in the wild.  It has turned out to be quite a science field trip experience for us and I love it!  Here’s some of what we saw:



Daddy is raising an adventurous girl

Starfish!

Tidepools!



 

Starfish in the Wild

 

                                                                       This Girl.

                                                               My Little Mermaid Girl

Kisses for Daddy!

                                                               A beautiful sunset

 

 So, this is just some of what we have been up to recently.  Trying to use this time wisely before it's gone!  How has the New Year motivated you?



30 Days, We Made It!

Lesson 1: Be Joyful. Seek the joy of being alive. 

And here we are: the culminating lesson - that which brings them all together.  Plus, it is my favorite of the 12 Woodcraft Laws (mentioned in earlier lessons.  If you aren’t familiar, look them up).  It really does speak for itself, especially in light of the other lessons.   It is not just a lesson I have learned, but a rule by which I aim to live.  When I first heard these words spoken, I was 12 years old.  I immediately connected with them, feeling a sense of quiet peace at the idea of being joyful.  I didn’t have a full understanding of what it meant, but something in the idea really spoke to me.  Over the years (the last 18, eek!), I have come back to this phrase over and over again, always with the same peaceful result.  So, what does it mean to be joyful?  Don’t confuse the idea with being happy – being joyful is not the same thing as being happy, although one can definitely result from the other.  Happiness is an emotion that often occurs as the result of something good happening – you reach a goal; you realize a love for someone who loves you back; you finally beat your own personal best score in Scramble with Friends.  It happens suddenly, spontaneously, and often without your preparation for it.  Authentic happiness can’t be created artificially, it just happens.  Being joyful, though, is an active state of being that can be solely controlled and sought by you.  I think that people often think they can seek out happiness, but often find that it is an elusive entity.  As a fleeting emotion, it can’t be chased or caught.  Being joyful, though, is so much more than a mere emotion.  Joy is finding that thrill of being alive – whatever makes that thrill real for you.  It is a challenging enterprise to identify the things that truly bring you joy and can often be an exercise in both honesty and sheer experimentation.  But, once you identify what those joys are and you seek to live for and through those joys, however they present themselves, you find a reason to not just wake up, but jump out of bed in the morning (ok, maybe not every morning, but many of them).  Each day, I strive to find those joys that make my heart smile and bring the thrill of being alive to reality: the look on my daughter’s face when I enter her room in the morning; the bliss of writing something that really means something to me; sharing an evening with people who love, respect and understand me; walking one path with my husband.  These are just some of the joys I have found – with many more to come, I’m sure.  What brings you joy every day?  Are you in tune with these things?  Don’t just recommit to your habits every morning, seek out what brings meaning to your life.  No one can be in charge of this search but you and you shouldn’t want anyone to be.  Be joyful because it feels good; because it’s contagious; and because it can help define what it truly means for you to be alive.

Lesson 2: Own your age…your real age. 

Because this is a birthday generated list, I put this one toward the top of the heap.  I have never really been one of those girls who hated to admit my age.  Of course, I was always in my 20’s or younger when that was the case, so maybe that’s the difference.  Even then, though, I had friends and met other women who were always denying their age by a few years.  Now, when I was younger, I easily passed for an older age, which I definitely tried to get away with.  Never for a bad girl reason, though, like sneaking into bars or buying cigarettes, (I was kind of a goody), but more for fun to see how old I could “pass” for.  For instance, when I was a teenager and travelling by myself, alone on a plane or bus, people would often assume that I was heading back to college.  When they asked what year I was in, I would say sophomore, but may have forgotten to also specify that that meant sophomore in high school.  I was always shocked that no one ever questioned my age - it felt rebellious and exhilarating.  Now that I am older, though, and at an age that many women fear reaching, I don’t deny how many years I have attained on this planet.  After all, for many years, I couldn’t wait to be in my late twenties or early thirties just for the mere credibility that comes with it.  Although I don’t claim to be an expert on anything, I do think I am a good listener with a solid understanding of the ways in which people interact; therefore, I'd say I'm pretty good at giving advice.  One of the things that has always driven me crazy, though, is when someone would tell me “Oh, you are so young, you couldn’t possibly know…” or “You haven’t seen enough of the world to really understand…”  Ooh, like nails on a chalkboard.  Who are you to know how much of the world I have seen and what I have learned?  Invalidation based on age was always one of the biggest insults I have ever received and is exactly why I couldn’t wait to be 30 when I was younger.  It's also one of the reasons I always wanted to work with adolescents - to provide them with an ear for listening, who wouldn't shirk their perspective.  At any rate, a while back, I heard a quote that really put into words the idea behind why I never deny my age: "When you lie about your age you are denying that part of your life. You are denying the years that you have earned here on the planet Earth. ...You are denying your very existence." Damn it if I haven’t earned every single year that I have lived in this place.  It’s been hard work and every single year that has gone by has brought me somewhere, someone, or something that I needed to find along my way.  Some years were harder than others, sometimes making me wish that I could just take a pass on it and move on to the next one.  And, although there were some incredibly fun and wonderful chunks of time, I would never want to relive any one of the years I have already seen.  16 was awful, 21 was fine, but I’d never want to relive what was going on in my head back then, and 25 was a blast, but boy did it take its toll on my emotional stamina.  I was happy to live all of those ages, but will say “no thanks” to a second time around.  I don't want to be 25 for the 5th time.  I look forward to the years that are ahead of me.  I feel like I get better every single year, learning more about myself, the world around me and the place that I want to hold in it.  I’m just hitting my stride and am excited for all of the possibilities my 30's hold.  I really do believe that you are only as old as you feel and, up until this point, I always felt older than my age indicated.  Finally, I’m starting to reach a point where I’m moving in the other direction – the number is getting higher, but the way I feel is younger and more alive. 

Lesson 3: Say I love you and mean it. 

This is as straightforward and simple as they get, but ever so important.  Despite this fact, I was telling someone recently about my list and they thought it was sad that I had to learn this lesson.  Not sad/pathetic, sad/unfortunate, just to clarify.  I was surprised that she wasn’t aware of how scared people are to say these 3 little words.  In my experience, these can be the scariest 3 little words you ever came across.  But, I also want to clarify that I don’t just mean “I Love You” romantically, but I mean it in every relationship and situation in which it is applicable.  Say “I love you” to your friends, to your siblings, and say it to your parents.  I actually realized the need for this lesson because of how I used to feel about saying “I love you” to members of my family.  We have not always been the most emotionally available group of people.  I actually remember feeling a strange sense of awkwardness saying it to my mother and my brother when I was a teenager and had decided that I was tired of not only not saying it, but not hearing it with regularity.  I said it to my mom one day before I left for school and added a kiss and a hug and I hadn’t seen her so taken aback in a while.  But, once we started to say it on a regular basis, it filled me with such a sense of happiness and relief.  I started saying it to all of my family members and it felt so good to really get it out there to the people I loved.  I made a decision to own those three words and never apologize for feeling them or saying them, whether they were returned or not.  Fast forward to when I practically blurted it out to Ryan when I had only been dating him a few weeks.  This was definitely my boldest “I love you” moment and I remember the shock in his face when I alerted him of my feelings.  But I stand by my truth and reiterated to him that I didn’t expect to hear it back, only that I felt it necessary to be honest and let him know how I felt.  My friends thought I was nuts, but my gamble worked out…eventually.  “I love you” is a pretty powerful phrase that should be shared, but of course, with meaning.  If you feel it, you should say it.  You never know when someone is not only listening, but really needs to hear it.

30 Days, Almost There...

Day 4: If you don’t like your story, write a new one. 

This is definitely one of my favorite lessons and one that I continue to learn and apply as time goes on.  The idea here is fairly simple.  Throughout the course of our lives, we develop stories about ourselves based on experiences we have.  Obviously, you are the main character of your story, while the setting and plot changes over time.  The stories we build up become filed in our brains and we tend to relive these stories over and over again.  We retell them, we identify with them, we define ourselves by them.  You become what you believe and often we believe in the stories we tell about ourselves, especially when we tell them for so long: I’m fat; I’m scared of heights; I’m damaged; I attract the wrong men; I’m becoming my mother; pick your poison, whatever it may be, we all have stories that we have been telling about ourselves forever.  The trick to it all, though, is you only live that reality because you insist on buying into it.  And it really is that simple.  We hang onto the stories of our past whether or not those stories are serving us in the present.  Take a minute to think about some of the things you believe about yourself – are those ideas serving you in a positive way right now?  For the longest time, I identified myself only as a poor girl who came from a broken home and a dysfunctional family, with heavy baggage that I believed only I could carry.  That was the story I let rerun in my head and what I would admit to others when the conversation veered in my direction.  Now, I don’t believe in any of that anymore.  Did those things happen to me?  Yes, of course and, in large part, helped me become the woman I am today.  But do those things define me?  Absolutely not.  They are just things that happened to me; they are, by no means, who I am.  You can’t change your past; you can only choose how you use it to move yourself forward.  So, I started to tell myself a new story about who I am and I have continued to create new stories for myself.  I am a strong woman who has survived a great deal.  I am a beautiful woman, who has created life and has ownership over her mind and body.  I am a smart woman, who has earned her keep and makes an effort to learn something new every single day.  These are just a few of my stories.  Sure, there are days when those old stories sneak up on me and try to find a place in my current library.  Days when I feel like I could very easily become that girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders, a couple of dimes to her name and no one to help shoulder the burden.  But then I look around me and see all that I have gained in each area of my life and I am reminded that I only have to be that girl if I want to be.  You don’t have to be a writer to rewrite the stories you tell yourself.  Every story has chapters in it that are painful and hard to read.  But you have a certain amount of control over how you let those chapters shape your life and, ultimately, how you get your happy ending.  You have all the control over what you choose to believe both about the world and about yourself.  Identify what your stories are and, if you don’t like the way they sound or the path they seem to be leading you down, start the rewrite of your own life. 

Day 5: The bigget the hurt, the bigger the lesson. 

Boy ,have I learned this one over and over.  This is one of those lessons that doesn’t really sink in until you’ve been through a handful of hardships.  Back when I was 17 or 18, I remember someone telling me that every crisis or hardship with which we are faced is but a preparation for the next challenge that may come our way.  Now, I had been through some pretty hard times when I was told this and my immediate response was, “Well, if that’s the case, who would want to go on?  If this isn’t the worst of it, I don’t think I want to know what comes later,” which seems like a pretty natural reaction.  My mind reeled at the prospect of what might happen to me that could be worse than what I had already been through.  What I didn’t understand at the time, though, was that hurt can be presented in such a wide variety of ways.  One hurt never quite looks like another, therefore it’s hard to rank the level of pain inflicted.  I couldn’t see the overreaching idea that within each hardship I faced was a lesson that would prepare me, in general, for life and all that it had to bring my way.  The lesson didn’t have to be specific to that kind of incident, but instead, on a more broad scale – more applicable to other scenarios.  To tie some of these past few lessons together, I quote Rick Warren from his book The Purpose Driven Life, “There is no growth without change; no change without fear or loss; and no loss without pain.”  With this in mind, the biggest lessons come from the biggest changes which, sometimes, can result in the biggest losses or pains.  And the pain, or grief as it can sometimes be experienced, is not only normal, but completely necessary.  Grief is not a bad thing, it just gets a bad rap.  So many people want to skip the pain, sorrow, or trouble that comes with any loss, hardship or change, when, in fact, it is one of the biggest and most important parts of the journey.  That grieving process is like a workout for your heart, your brain and your emotional muscles.  You strengthen yourself by really experiencing everything that goes along with the hurt you feel from the loss you sustained.  There is no detour around that part of the adversity you are facing and the longer you try to avoid it or push it down deep, the more difficult it will be to get through. So, if someone tells you, “you’ll get over it” or something similar, they are not only insensitive, they are wrong.  You never really “get over” something tragic, especially the more difficult it is.  You aren’t meant to get over grief; you are meant to get through it.  The memory of the struggle and the journey it takes to get through it are what make the lesson stick with you; once you are through the worst of it,  the lesson waits for you just on the other side.  That is your light at the end of the figurative tunnel.  It might be dim or impossible to see at first, but trust that it’s there and is fueled by the strength you have built reaching out to grab it.  Afterall, as they say, this too shall pass and, when it does, you will be a stronger, better, wiser you.

 

Lesson 6: You can’t change the length of your legs, the width of your hips or the nature of your family. 

I read this lesson in an article that was generated by Glamour back in 1997 called “30 Things Every Woman Should Have and Should Know By the Time She’s 30.”  Apropos, yes?  The article went viral pretty quickly, turning first into an email circulated by girlfriends everywhere and then, later, a book.  I love this lesson because the lesson about the inevitability of change is significant by itself, as I indicated when I wrote about it, but this puts a finger on some of the specific points that I, personally, can relate to.  Two hard lessons from the same root that I have really come to grasp over the last couple of years, the first of which relates to the body.  As a woman like any other, I am coming to learn more about my physical body the more years I spend living inside of it.  I always used to roll my eyes at women who would say things like, “Enjoy that now, you won’t be able to eat it forever.”  Honestly, I still roll my eyes at those women.  Yes, my metabolism and body were different when I was 20, but I don’t think a cupcake here or a slice of pizza there is what is responsible for the changes my body has seen.  It’s just the way it is.  At first I was mad about it.  I really wanted that body I had 10 years ago.  I worked hard to get back there, I tried to force my body to accept my brain’s desire to wear a size 4 again, and I got mad and defeated when it didn’t happen.  I loved my body while I was pregnant, but hated it when I put on the weight AFTER I had already had my daughter.  Then one day, several months ago, I made a decision (and reading this lesson in that Glamour article had a lot to do with it).  Why am I mad at my body?  If I want to lose the muffin top or the excess weight in my face, I need to make changes.  But, I can’t be mad about how wide my hips are or the fact that my legs aren’t as long as I want them to be.  Those things I can do very little about.  I carried a human in my pelvic region…you just can’t undo that and how that changes the shape of your hips.  And as far as my legs go, well, I have never been happy with their length, spending countless hours of my youth wishing they'd magically grow a few more inches.  Why be mad at the things you can’t change?  Your body is the house for your brain, heart and soul.  Fuel it with good foods and positive thoughts, work it out here and there, but don’t hate it because it doesn’t look the way you think other people want it to look.  I have a long way to go in really accepting my body, but I have also come a long way from loathing it and making sure others know that I hate the shape of my thighs/the length of my legs/the width of my hips.  I am learning how to own the size of my jeans and learning how to feel sexy, truly beautiful, in the shape my body is taking.  It made life, for crying out loud, and it has gotten me pretty far in this world.  I don’t need to reflect an image created by a media who clearly doesn’t truly understand what it means to be a woman or have a woman’s body; I need to love the skin I live in and reflect to my daughter a healthy idea of what a woman’s body really looks like.

Now, as for part two of this lesson, I have spent years trying to accept this very truth: You simply can’t change and/or choose your parents.  Not that I wish I could have chosen differently, but there were moments when I wished I could change things about them.  For the most part, though, these people were chosen for me – without their permission or mine.  Children spend their whole lives, up until a certain point, idolizing their parents and seeing in them all of the things they think they want to become.  Parents don’t seem like regular human beings from the eyes of a child.  No child considers the fact that parents have crises, deep feelings and thoughts, or interests outside of their family.  Sort of how young students look at their teachers without seeing their humanity – you know, how when you were in first or second grade and you were shocked to learn that your teacher not only went home at night, but ate food, watched TV and used the bathroom.  When I was that age, I thought that teachers just lived in their classrooms and did…I don’t know, teacher things all the time, like robots.  I think that children feel the same way about their parents to an extent.  Because their “rule” and existence so directly impacts the lives of their children, it is easy to lose sight of the fact that they are humans too and not just the cruel beings who don’t understand us or don’t listen when we talk.  But it’s important to remember, especially in those moments when you start blaming your parents for every wrong that has ever happened, every bad birthday, or every bad quality you feel you developed because of them, that you can’t wish them away.  Those two people, for better or worse, were always meant to be your parents.  You, quite literally, would not exist without them.  Any other combination of DNA would have resulted in an entirely different being.  So, even if they weren’t the best parents in every moment or situation or they weren’t the best couple that could have ever come together, they were always meant to be together to fuse what DNA they had to specifically create you.  Accidentally or on purpose, your creation was no accident.  This took me a LONG time to wrap my head around.  As someone who has dissected over and over again, not only all of my interactions with each of my parents, but also the genes I inherited from them in kind, this was a huge “ah ha” moment for me.  For better or worse, and whatever their faults, my parents are just that – mine.  I wouldn’t exist without them and I wouldn’t be who I am, again, for better or worse, without all that they and I have been through.  You can’t change who your parents are.  You just can’t.  Those two people created you and you have life because of them.  Hating them or blaming them forever for whatever ails or afflicts you doesn’t solve whatever the problem is and it doesn’t move anyone forward.  It also doesn’t make it hurt any less on their end when they see the scorn in your eyes or hear the blame in your voice.  Use some of the lessons you’ve learned – Some things you can’t change, it is what it is and take ownership of your life – and understand that even though they gave you the life that you have and all that comes with it, you are the one who made choices about how to use it, walk through it and look at it.  You can’t choose who gave you the life, but you can choose how to live it and be thankful that it was given to you at all. 

30 Days Continued...

Lesson 7: Keep your friends close. 

Boy, have I learned this one.  I have been truly blessed thus far by the people with whom I have had the privilege of sharing my life.  I think it speaks volumes that some of the closest people I have in my life have been my friends since grade school.  I am the kind of person who mates for life, for lack of a better term, especially in my friendships.  I really value the bonds I have made and have put my trust in people who have repeatedly shown me that they have my back and always will.  The friends I have made in the more recent past have been equally amazing additions to my life.  All in all, I have an amazing group of people around me.  I have found that one of the easiest things to do is take for granted the access you think you have to these people with whom you share your life.  As my closest friends and I have found ourselves moving, physically, in opposite directions from each other, we, of course, promise that we will keep in close contact no matter what.  Inevitably, though, this is something that is easier said than done.  Jobs, kids, life, and everything else makes the hours of the day vanish before your eyes and all of a sudden, it’s been weeks, even months, since you have spoken on the phone.  My friends and I have gotten into a fantastic habit of making Google Hangout dates every couple of weeks, which we all try and show up for.  Not for nothing, but modern technology especially Facebook, has been a Godsend in making daily contact more accessible.  With these advances, we are able to not only see each other, but see each other’s kids, fur babies, homes, and anything else – it’s like being in the same room with each other…but not.  We also try and get together at least once a year, which, although challenging, is so important to us being able to maintain the feeling of family that has developed between us.  But it is so easy to just assume that the people to whom you are closest will always be there, available to catch up, listen, or offer advice.  With all of us having to be so far apart from each other, I have really come to grips with the reality that the people you love and trust most are not always going to be right there with you every step of the way, like you may have once planned; however, that doesn't mean that you should shirk the duties that come with being and keeping a true friend.  Finding one or two people who you would trust with your life, nevermind an entire group of people, is no small feat.  If you are as lucky as I have been and have any of these people in your life, protect those relationships with everything you have.  In a crisis situation, you need to have a full corner to back you up.  In order to assure that support, you need to do the work to make it happen.  As we get older, our friendships become increasingly more important, but increasingly difficult to maintain as life gets more complicated.  Do the work.  Show the love.  Don’t let those people that mean the most slip away when you aren’t looking.  You won’t know how it happened, but you will certainly miss them when they are gone.

Lesson 8: You can’t trust everyone, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t trust anyone.

Trust is one of the trickiest tools of life.  It is the hardest thing to find or gain and the easiest thing to lose.  It can take years to fully gain someone’s trust, but can take just moments to lose it forever.  I struggled with trust for a long time.  It’s hard to put your trust in others when you have been left behind, forgotten, hurt and betrayed.  Eventually, though, you get to a point when you realize that, in fairness, you can’t hold against some what has been done to you by others.  Just because one person, years ago, hurt you in a certain way, doesn’t mean that everyone will betray you in the same way.  It isn’t fair to the people in your life when you punish them for things someone else has done to you.  You can’t protect yourself from hurt ever happening to you.  That’s no way to live.  Instead, you need to be aware of your surroundings and read the signs when they come.  People will always show you who they are if you are willing to see it.  And, like Maya Angelou says, “when people show you who they are, believe them!”  People show you their true colors all the time, through their words and actions.  How often have you spoken with a friend who said something like, “yes, but he/she just did it that once…they were honest about it, I think that counts for something…” and you rolled your eyes thinking that you haven’t heard the last of this conversation.  You sit and wait for that friend to come back to you, knowing that that friend will get hurt again by that person sometime soon.  But then, in your own life, have overlooked what someone has done to you in the same way?  The fissures begin to multiply in your trust relationship because of these indiscretions.  Those people are showing you who they are with each action and, often, bank on the fact that you will forgive them an indiscretion or two or ten before you walk away for good.  I’m not saying you should never give people the benefit of the doubt or forgive someone for something when the situation warrants it.  However, I am saying that people who are not deserving of your trust will often let you know through their words and actions exactly who they are and what they are about.  When someone shows you who they are in this way, believe that that is who they are and don’t continuously expect them to be something they aren’t.  Don’t hate someone or blame them for doing wrong to you – it’s likely that you've seen examples of their true nature through previous actions and you either ignored it or weren’t paying enough attention.  I’ve learned this lesson time and again and have learned to scold myself for letting those people do to me what I should have counted on them doing in the first place.  Placing my trust where, deep down, I knew it wasn't safe.  When someone is unkind, selfish, dishonest, or thoughtless toward you, please believe that that is who they  are.  Don’t distrust everyone, though; being an overly guarded person often tells others that you might not be trustworthy.  Instead, put your trust in people who show you they can be trusted.  Just like with the bad, believe in the good when it is shown to you.  I truly believe there is more of it out there than the bad, but it's easy to get hurt if you aren't paying attention.     

Lesson 9: Things change and that’s OK, but some things never change, and that’s OK too.

If there is one thing I have learned from my life as a military spouse, it is that things change. And boy, do they! In this lifestyle, you can never believe that something is definite until you are in the middle of it actually happening and even then it can still be questioned.  Truthfully, I learned this lesson at a much younger age, it just didn’t sink in as an acceptable reality until I married my husband.  At a certain point everyone has to come to grips with the fact that change is inevitable and that, without it, there can be no growth or progression.  I have not always welcomed some of the changes that have come my way; however, in retrospect have seen how my life couldn’t possibly have happened any differently.  Afterall, it is what it is, right?  In the end, though, it is the way in which we respond to the change that matters the most and is actually the only thing we can control in the epic battle of man versus change.  Change is ok and, even though it is scary to accept, we need it and should welcome it.  Sometimes the most unexpected changes can bring us the greatest joys and experiences we never knew we could have.  That is definitely a companion lesson I have learned in my life as a military wife – the places we have, and will, go, the people we have come to know, all would not have been possible without the epic change of the moves and changes we were asked to make.  I think one of the most frustrating parts about change, though, is the fact that the moment in which we beg for a change, it doesn’t come.  That moment when you wish that person would change or that your circumstances would suddenly alter somehow is always when you find change becomes elusive.  But, those moments when things never change are OK too and should, in some way, provide you with a sense of contentment in the consistency and predictability of these things we know will always stay the same.  This is where developing your sense of “go with the flow” and “it is what it is” comes in most handy.  Be flexible; change is bound to happen but only you can control how that change impacts your life.  It’s like they say, you can’t change the weather, but you can change your clothes and attitude to deal with it.  Ok, maybe no one says that.  But I just did, so I guess that works for now...

30 Days STILL Continued...

Lesson 10: Clean up your mess.

Feel free to take this as literally or figuratively as you want it, but it’s a good one either way. In the literal sense, I have always been taught, and now teach my own daughter, that you always clean up after yourself. It’s an important skill in taking responsibility for yourself and the space you occupy. I’m glad I was taught it and intend on passing the lesson on to my own progeny. Now, of course, I’m not always as diligent as I would like to be. Some days, the dishes will sit there all day and wait for me – but in the land of “single” motherhood, that’s just a choice that sometimes has to be made. But, when I am out and about, I try to be aware of the messes I make and clean them up. Maybe it is my years working in food service, but when I am out at a restaurant, I make sure to leave the table just how I found it – sometimes cleaner. If Savannah’s food is all over the floor and table, I clean it up. I always wipe up spills on the table and I don’t leave crumbs on the seat. In retail stores, if I knock something off the rack, I pick it up and if I unfold something to check it out, I always fold it up the same way and place it neatly back. Maybe this sounds like a little much, but I always imagine the frustration of the person who is responsible for keeping that area clean, finding it a complete mess when they come back to check on it. I’ve seen parents leave some pretty epic messes in restaurants (often as the waitress responsible for cleaning it up) and I try to avoid being that person. Now, in the figurative sense, it is also important to take responsibility for your “messes.” Most of us go through life continuously making both small and large messes in our relationships and interactions with others. We tell little lies; we mislead; we assume; we betray the confidences of others; we make a mess of things. It happens, no one is immune. But the important piece is to recognize when you have made a mess of things and figure out some way to clean it up. You take responsibility for your part in making the mess and therefore lend a hand in cleaning it up. Whether it’s acknowledging the wrongdoing, apologizing for your part or finding some tangible way to make it up to the person, have enough self-awareness to recognize when you have created a mess; have even more awareness to know when and how to clean it up. Think of it as keeping your space clean, that space you occupy in the world, however far it stretches and however many other spaces with which is shares a boundary. Like your mother taught you: keep your space clean and don’t expect anyone to come in clean up after you.

Lesson 11: Laugh.

Now, this is a very simple, but very important one. It doesn’t take much effort or time, but it can make a huge difference in your day. And it’s free! Laughing is one of the healthiest things you can do for yourself and yet, I have met so many people who will withhold or conceal a laugh. Laughing is the quickest, easiest and cheapest way to better your health. A good laugh can release tension, strengthen your heart, release endorphins to lighten your mood, and even decrease stress hormones to empower your immune system. I have always enjoyed a good laugh and have even been teased by my friends for my uncontrollable laughing fits that sometimes come out of nowhere and for no reason. I think the most important laughs, though, come from when you laugh at yourself. I once heard someone say that “you have to laugh at yourself, because you’d cry your eyes out if you didn’t.” I can’t think of anything that is truer than that. I have spent more time laughing at myself than probably any other person or thing in this world. It’s imperative to not take yourself, or anything, too seriously. I live and die by finding the irony, humor and ridiculousness that is present in the course of a life time – I mean, it can be downright hysterical if you really stop to look at it. I think the thing that bothers me most, though, is the presence of those people who make you feel bad about laughing or having a good time.  Those people who are a little scared of laughing a little too loudly.  You know that saying, dance like no one is watching? Aside from the fact that it is on every kitchen magnet, coffee cup, and Pinterest/Facebook board ever created, it is actually a really good point.  I think it is such a popular phrase, though, because it is something that people want to do, but are nervous about how they will be perceived while doing it.  They need to be persuaded or reminded that it's alright to have some good old fashioned silly fun, even if it makes you look just that: silly.  I have been known to have a public dance party and/or song break or two and have had the unfortunate luck of being with people who, feeling embarrassed by my “display,” almost scolded me, encouraging me to stop. I always swore I would never let anyone let me feel bad about having a little fun. So what if some strangers at Target think I’m a little weird for singing in the dressing room or dancing to a song in the electronics section? You can’t worry yourself with what others are thinking all the time (if ever at all) – that is something you can’t control and shouldn’t try to, even if you could. Fun should be measured by the way it makes YOU feel, not the way others around you feel – within reason, of course. I say all of this with a little understanding to the point – your fun might embarrass someone who needs to loosen up, so long as it does not make anyone feel bad, attacked or shamed. So to those of you who I’ve shared a crosswalk dance party with, or an inappropriate laugh at an inappropriate time, thank you for carrying on with me. We’ve done a bit of good for, not only our health, but the health of those around us who couldn’t help the giggle they had when they saw us being silly. Laughter is contagious – try to spread it around a little, for the betterment of everyone’s health.

Lesson 12: Work hard.

If there is anything I have learned from living in my family, it is this; and not just my nuclear family, but my entire family from grandparents to cousins. I come from a long line of people who have an incredible work ethic and strong pride in their sense of “get it done.” I was raised to know that, no matter what, nothing is owed to me. Whether I have nothing or everything, a certain amount of work is required in order to earn what you have and /or need. I can’t put into words how grateful I am to have been raised this way. I look around and see so many young people coming up with this sense of entitlement to everything around them. I think that our media has created a generation of people who think that as long as you find a way to create some 15 minutes of fame, you are somehow entitled to riches beyond measure. Meanwhile, what are these people actually contributing to society? I have always found a great sense of accomplishment and happiness in working hard. I love that feeling at the end of a productive day that you really did something, that you made an impact in some way. I have also found that this ethic to work hard and stay productive has helped me divert attention away from some of the less positive pieces of life. Which is why a secondary  and equally important piece of this lesson is to Stay Busy but Purposeful. In middle and high school, I am certain that I only survived my circumstances because I had so much going on to divert my attention. If I had stayed home every single day after school, each weekend and each break, I’m sure that I could have drowned in self-pity, sadness and longing for a life that wasn’t mine. Instead, because of sports, clubs, school trips, friends and competitive opportunities I rarely found myself home until 6 PM on the weekdays and out all day each weekend, which also meant that my brain didn’t have time to sit and dwell. This isn’t to say that I avoided my problems in order to not deal with them. Instead, I think it is important to give the brain a necessary break from the realities of life, so that it doesn’t drown itself in its own thought processes. There is such a thing as overthinking things. I actually found that by staying busy, productive and goal oriented that my brain worked through problems a lot quicker, actively thinking about things as opposed to lazily dwelling on them. Ultimately, I doubly benefited from this, finding peace for my active mind as well as completing goals one right after the other. I kept this activity up right through college, then my grad school career and on into life. Always finding something to be a part of, a dance class to take, a new skill to learn – not a distracted mind, but one that is always  active and learning something.  I have found that an active mind processes things in a more efficient and clear manner.  I am more able to solve issues in my life when my brain is working at a steady pace.  I like to feel busy – not overwhelmingly so – just enough to keep me moving forward. Working hard and staying busy is not just about filling time and expending energy, either, it’s about challenging yourself and your mind so that you are always progressing, learning, and growing. I fully intend on raising my children with this same sense of “get it done.” I hate the idea of producing any more people in this world who think that by simply existing they deserve to have anything. I don’t want them to have nothing, of course, but I also don’t want them thinking that just because they can talk and use their fingers that they should have an iphone at the age of 7. The mere idea of that sends chills up my spine. I want them to learn that sometimes working hard doesn’t always pay its dividends as quickly or as amply as one might like. It does, however, continuously force you to make deposits in your brain’s bank of redeemable assets. You’ll cash them in at some point and when you do, just as with any investment, will be glad you put all the work into making sure you had them in the first place.

30 Days Continued...

Lesson 13: Forgive. 

This is a tough one – don’t mistake the concise nature of the title for an easy topic.  One of the hardest things to do in life is forgive.  But you can’t move on/grow/do better until you do.  To not forgive someone is really a punishment for you.  The anger/resentment/hurt is eating you from the inside, not the other person.  I once heard that “Unforgiveness unchecked is like Cancer to the soul,” a perfect visual.  Nothing else is so negative or can consume you so completely if left unattended.  When you don’t truly forgive something and let it go, the feelings associated with the action start eating away at your happiness and starts bleeding out on to other parts of your life.  You start misdirecting that hurt toward other people.  You have to let it go – it’s done, it’s over.  It may have hurt, but the truth is you learned something.  Now release it and walk away.  With that in mind, forgive does not mean forget, even though the two ideas are almost always paired together - they should never be equated, in my opinion.  Let's be honest, no one ever forgets anything they have had to forgive.  I actually think the memory of the act serves a purpose, and not just to hold over the person’s head: that would mean you have not truly forgiven. Instead, the act should be an example of how that action truly feels, directing you to consciously make sure you never commit that act to someone else and make them feel the way you felt.  Afterall, there is a hard lesson to be learned in every tough situation, right?  In all of the cases you’ve had to either forgive or be forgiven, I bet you can easily name what that lesson was.  That’s because you haven’t forgotten.  Nor should you be asked to forget.  The memory reminds you of where you’ve been and how far you’ve come.  I’m grateful for all the times I’ve been forgiven as well as the times I’ve been hurt and have had to forgive.  I've been on both sides of this one many times, as I'm sure everyone else has.  But the hardest side to be on is the side where you realize you have to forgive yourself for whatever has transpired in the first place.  Some people (namely me) have a habit of punishing themselves over and over for things that they’ve either done or let happen.  Things that could have/should have gone differently, things that not only affected them, but the people around them.  It’s so difficult to forgive yourself, because there is no bigger critic and no harsher judge.  But, at the end of the day, you have to live with you, you have to look you in the mirror in the morning, and you have to be able to let things go in order to move on and find happiness.  Over the course of time, I have found that the more fiercely and angrily I blamed someone else, the more it was me I was actually blaming.  At first I directed my anger at whatever one individual it was in the moment, enraged that they would treat me in such an awful manner.  When, really, I was mad at myself for letting them treat me in such a manner, for so long.  Excuse me while I throw to Oprah  – “Forgiveness is accepting that it HAS happened to you, not that it was OK for it to have happened to you.  Forgiveness is giving up the hope that the past could have been any different,” (I suggest you read that in slow mo – it takes a minute to settle in).  This is one of my favorite Oprah-isms and definitely a lightbulb moment for me.  It happened, it’s done, you can’t change it – so now what?  Skip the grudge and move on, easier said than done, I know, but try it.  What have you got to lose besides the hurt, anger and drama?


Lesson 14: You can’t truly love someone else until you learn to love yourself. 

Is this a cliché?  Eh, who’s to say, but I like it either way and have learned this lesson over and over again.  I think it is one of those things that is said back and forth between people, usually as advice or as a means to console, but the meaning of which sometimes doesn’t fully settle.  So, what does it mean?  To me, it isn’t just about loving yourself, but truly KNOWING yourself.  You might say, “Well, heck, I’ve lived with myself for years, of course I know myself.”  But do you?  Think of all of the questions you might expect someone you’re dating to answer.  Questions that you might use to judge their qualification to be a part of your life.  Do you know what makes you happiest/saddest?  Do you have an ultimate goal or purpose?  Do you have a spiritual/religious belief?  You have to be able to answer these for yourself before you can ask anyone else.  After you have answered these questions, among others, do you accept your answers?  You may have chosen a career or goal long ago that may not suit you now.  So the answer is yes, I have chosen a career, but do I like it?  Does it fulfill me?  Yes, I believe (fill in the blank), but am I willing to state that belief out loud to others?  Taking ownership of yourself, your beliefs, your life – taking responsibility for them – is the only way to truly know AND love yourself.  Honestly, it takes a long time to get to know yourself.  Here I am, looking 30 in the face, and I am still learning things about who I am.  Furthermore, it has taken an even longer time for me to really love me.  Things I’ve learned to help me really love me?  I love myself enough to know that I won’t let another person compromise my beliefs or values.  I love myself enough to know that, if a relationship hurts more than it helps or nurtures me, I can’t be in it; love doesn’t hurt and if it does, it isn’t the right kind of love.  I love myself enough to know that my body is only what I put into it and ask of it – hating it because I’m told to doesn’t work.   I love myself enough to know that, in the end, I do come first.  This has been the hardest one for me to fully grasp.  Ultimately, though, if I don’t take care of me first, I can’t be at the top of my game to take care of others.  All this said, especially the last point, how can you possibly be ready to give your heart away to someone if you don’t know what’s written on it.  Sure, that right person might be the very individual that helps you answer many of these questions.  But, I have found that all the wrong people actually helped me learn these lessons and it wasn’t until I met my husband that I realized it.  It was so easy to love him and, 7 years later, it still is.  I feel like the best, most beautiful version of myself; the kind of me that isn’t self-conscious about whether he thinks I’m fun/smart/beautiful/thin/good enough.  Because I know, and love, myself enough to know that I am all of those things and, at the end of the day, that’s all that counts.

Lesson 15: It builds character. 

Now, this is something that a beloved teacher, Mr. Bushey, used to say to me almost every day of my adolescent life.  He was my Ag. teacher and FFA advisor from 5^th grade through senior year, as well as a father figure who gave me daily reality checks when I needed them.  And I often needed them.  I would wager that the number of times I heard this phrase in my adolescence probably far exceeds any other phrase ever said.  Ever.  Because Mr. Bushey had a habit of pushing his students into each and every public speaking and leadership event that ever happened in the FFA, he had the opportunity to see me try and fail a lot at a lot of things.  After every defeat came a knowing smile, shake of the head and the same 3 words.  At the time, I would always roll my eyes saying, “Yeah, yeah.  But don’t you think by now I’ve built enough character for an entire army?”  Truthfully, though, his words always did bring a little comfort.  It was the comfort of the repetition, the fact that he cared enough to say it at all and the fact that, really, it was true.  And I knew it.  I remember one day in particular, I came to school devastated after learning I might have to move out of state.  This was just after I was moved out of my mom’s house and didn’t think things could get any worse.  When I walked into class that morning, Mr. Bushey immediately saw my face (having already heard the story from a friend) and called me outside.  Before he could open his mouth, I said, “Please don’t say it.  I know that someday I will…” and broke down in tears before I could finish.  Mr. Bushey hugged me and didn’t say anything more – I think we both knew what he would have said was right, but I had finally reached a day when I didn’t need to hear it out loud.   As time has worn on, I hear his voice in my head every time something bad happens, reminding me that, yes, this too will build character.  All life experiences (especially the bad ones) shape our life’s purpose; the decisions we make, both in the face of those experiences and in the aftermath, dictate the kind of character we build.  These experiences and decisions give us the tools to understand how to take on future challenges and the strength to know that we can dominate those challenges because we have seen and handled worse.  I had an inkling of this meaning back when I heard the words from Mr. B, but I couldn’t have possibly grasped their depth until the tools I had gained needed to be used again.  I am a strong, confident, fierce woman who didn’t come by these qualities easily.  Despite this strength of character, though, I know I could always use more – you never know what lies ahead and I want to be as prepared as possible.  Thanks for teaching me that Mr. Bushey; the lesson was heard loud and clear.