Happy #95: Chill with Jesus.

Ok, I know Easter has passed. But it came at a good time and in sync with my thinking about living peacefully, regardless.

If I was really on the ball, I would have written this post in time for Easter. I'm of the mind, however, it's better that I had the benefit of reflection and to be in the moment with the many conversations about Christ.

I asked several people this question: When you place yourself with Jesus in your thinking, what is He doing?

Interestingly, everyone shared the same (although varied) response. "He's just chillin', hanging with me. Listening." And remarkably (although not surprising), His presence in their thoughts had the same effect. Jesus wasn't doing anything. He was just there.

The Creator of heaven and earth was just there. Just being there. And everyone I talked to felt better simply at the thought.

Easter brings the Savior freshly into our minds. Given the gift His presence is, I would likely to humbly offer the invitation to think on Jesus and chill with Him more often.

I believe in Christ.

He is the source.

Peace, regardless.

Happy #94: Say thank you.

Juliet called and asked if I remembered a night when she and Kelsie were spending time together in their room. Let's see. Twenty years, loving sisters... Which time?? Lol. :D

It would have been before Kelsie left last June for her mission in Florida. So that narrowed it down a bit. But I was still drawing a blank, for obvious reasons. ;-)

She said they were snuggling, like they do, talking and laughing, when I came into the room with two glasses of water. I smiled, set the waters down, and left.

No big deal, right?

But for some reason on that day and in that moment, Juliet's heart was touched by my service. And she's thought of it over and over again in the time that has passed. (She's been away at college in WA.)

She intended to say something long ago, but kept forgetting. She wanted me to know much my care for her and her sister means to her. Simple, unsolicited service.

It took a year or more. But she didn't forget she wanted to say it. And her expression of thanks for my mothering came at a moment I needed it.

This is the first post in my series on our path to Peaceful, regardless.

Say thank you.

It doesn't matter how long it's been. If someone did something that moved you, find the way to let them know.

Because you never know whose heart you'll be lifting when you say thank you for the time they lifted yours.

Thank you, Juliet.

I love you. :-)
Mama
xoxo

Happy #93: Practice Yoga.

I can do that. ;-)

I'm going to talk more about yoga in the next few posts as I begin a three part series I'm calling, "Peaceful, regardless".

I love Yoga. Love it. I'm sure you'd all be very entertained with a picture of me doing yoga on my pink yoga mat or in some tropical place getting washed away by the tide because I was so focused. And we may get to that. But not now.

In the meantime, if you haven't tried yoga, get started.

It's remarkable for easing anxiety and stress in life.

Remarkable.

Peace out.

Happy #92: Tell yourself, "It's Ok. That's just today."

"There is no chance, no fate, no destiny that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul." Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I'm not comparing myself to a snail, but I do want to make a point about determination and perseverance.

Earlier this week my son's high school was taking the group (about 400 students) senior class picture. There aren't many things Keaton asks specifically to participate in, but this was one of them.

The morning the photograph was to be taken, I began the usual routine of getting Keaton up and out the door for school. He doesn't have a class first period, so he arrives an hour later than the other students. Thinking they would take the picture mid to late morning (as they have in the past), I didn't call early about the timing for the photo. Nor did I call the day before. But I should have.

Keaton was excited and minutes away from being ready to go when I decided to check in with the school.

"Oh," the secretary said, "they just took the picture five minutes ago!"

I stood there in the kitchen. Stunned. Then I started to cry.

It would be one thing if my son didn't care about this. Or if there were more opportunities like this. Or if Keaton and I hadn't spent the last two years making up the first two years of his high school work (in addition to the second two years of work he was required to do) so he could graduate.

And it must have been a pathetic sight, me standing there in my kitchen, bawling. But worse than my tears was the feeling in my heart that I had let my son down. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like a loser. An honest to goodness loser.

Because, all things considered, I could have prevented his disappointment. And as I said, he doesn't ask for much. So this was painful for me.

I have a few regrets in my life. This will be one of them.

That said, I value perseverance. And I believe that when we grow, even just a little bit, change for good follows. So I may have felt like a loser that day. And truthfully, for all the reasons I should. But all I can do is go forward and try to do better.

I consoled myself (after calling myself a loser, which I don't think I've ever done), knowing it's a victory Keaton is graduating at all. Keaton struggles with life on the Autism spectrum. Had I not persevered when the school was telling me it would be nearly impossible for him to make up the work (and I should be satisfied with a Certificate of Completion for Keaton), that would have been the real failure. And that's were I truly would have failed him. He was always capable of graduating. Even if the school wasn't capable of helping him produce the work required to demonstrate his capability...

The senior class picture is a one time thing. There is no way for me to make it up to him. And photoshop would just be an unfortunate reminder that he wasn't actually there to participate in the experience. (Believe me, I considered it.)

But I have firm resolve and I am determined to do better with these details that need my more conscious and deliberate attention. For Keaton, for my other children, for myself--in every area of my life. For all the reasons I should.

Life is going to bring disappointments, setbacks, discouraging moments, and flat out heartbreak. When these moments happen, it's best to take the long view and remind ourselves that it's Ok. And that (whatever "that" is), is just today. Today can be a lot of things, but it's not tomorrow. And tomorrow is always different than today. Always.

With the firm resolve of my determined soul and perseverance, the change I hope for in my life may happen at a snail's pace. But that is also Ok. I have hope. And hope for change is the beginning. Everything can be better from there.

Happy #91: Do something Good.

The surest way I know to feel better in almost any situation is to do something good.

There are events, circumstances, and people who will show up in your life and create unfortunate difficulty in your world. Staying focused on these things (or these people and their actions) will bring more of the same into your life.

So take an action to counter and offset the negative. Tip the scale. Do something good, something positive.

Energy follows thought and matter follows energy. One thought in a positive direction will lead to another and a positive action has the power to create the change for good you desire.

This is hard to do in times of difficulty. Believe me, I know...

But it's the only way to create change for the better.

There are a lot of people out there suffering right now. (And not just in Japan.) You may not be able to do a big thing or help where there is global need, but you can do a small thing--in your life and in the lives of others. And the small things add up.

So think something good. Then do something good.

Begin with a prayer.

One small change.

As a people, as a world, we need more love for each other. In your own life and the lives of those around you, you have more influence for good than you know.

And remember above all else, prayer changes things.

Now go get the day. : )

Happy #90: Freshen up. Find some spring and bring it in.

Fresh flowers are a beautiful way to find some spring. And flowers heal the heart. Kelsie arranged these beauties for my birthday last year. I miss her. And I miss the flowers that were always around the house when she was here.

"Go get yourself some tulips," Mary said to me this morning.

Mary and I became friends when our daughters became playmates in grade school. That was over 15 years ago. She is dear to me, and someone who has been a shining example of cultivating joy. Mary can make any place beautiful, light up the room, warm your heart, and make you smile from the inside out. She inspires me.

But possibly the greatest gift Mary gives to everyone who knows her is the loving and generous spirit of her soul. With her whole selfless heart she serves those around her. And everyone is uplifted when Mary is around.

My children and I have rich and wonderful memories of spending time at her home in Monroe, WA. It was a worn out, beaten down farm when she and her husband Bill bought it. Mary turned it into a a magical wonderland and heaven on earth. Everyone was happy when they were there.

I called Mary after making the post to cultivate your personal joy. When I asked her what she does to cultivate her joy she said, "It's the little things." She went on to share the small wonders and beauties of life that fill her: her children, gardens, birds, doilies, flowers, tea cups, river rock, mucking around in the horse stall and caring for the animals she loves, and silver teaspoons. The list could go on. Essentially, Mary is the extension of spring. And all the hope it brings.

Mary, I love you. :-)

In looking back through earlier posts from a year ago, I saw a pattern for this time of year.

For those of us who believe the key to happiness is to contribute to the happiness of others, we will be better at giving and serving if we are actually happy. So start on the inside--of your hearts and your homes.

Spring is on it's way. In the meantime, "freshen up your nest," as Mary says. Paint. Wash the windows. Open them up and listen to the birds chirp. Toss a few brightly colored throw pillows on the sofa. Sweep. Vacuum in the corners. And find some flowers and bring them in doors.

And take a quick look through some previous thoughts about finding happiness when you're waiting for winter to be OVER. :-)

Happy #22: Trust God.

Happy #5: "You have to know what brings you up."

Happy #9: Exercise.

Happy #28: Find the sun.

Happy #38: Feel the hope of spring.

Find some spring. It's out there. Bring it in.

Happy #89: Cultivate your personal joy.

Women in Barcelona, Spain--dancing the Flamanco for a captivated crowd.

If you read the last two posts, you've read the words of two important people in my life. Gene and Harriet Hatch.

In their thoughtful counsel, they offered wisdom to live by. Distilled down, they said trust God and cultivate personal joy.

During my scripture study this morning I was profoundly moved by the truth and simplicity of their wisdom. If you knew them, you would understand why their words carry so much meaning for me. They are what they represent, so the extension of their counsel comes from a very real place.

I likely speak for my entire community when I say I'm ready for spring to arrive in Salt Lake City, Utah. Trusting God, hoping to clearly see the vision He has for me (thank you, Wendy), seeking His peace and ways to serve, spring is a good time to turn attention to the joy and happiness part of the equation. I think it's all found in the same place anyway.

The pictures below are of two older women (in their 70's, maybe early 80's) who captured an audience. I couldn't help but think of Harriet's advice (that I'm young now but in about three days I'll be 80) when the first woman began dancing to the music. Another joined her and they danced together. It moved me to tears.

Take a look at the pictures. In the zoom I've done for you, look closely at the musicians and people. Everyone was right there in the experience with them. In joy. It was beautiful.







Happy #89 is purely: Cultivate your personal joy. Seriously consider what makes you happy and brings you joy. Then do MORE of those things!! Because we do, afterall, get more of whatever we're focused on...

It's time for spring.

Let the sun shine in. : )

And if you need a laugh, check out these California Billy Jean Dancing Seniors giving a tribute to Michael Jackson. It's hilarious.

Happy #88: Don't mind that backdraft.

Nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes. It's a physical law. Brought to you by God.

So if you want change, really want change, and you are committed to seeing change happen, brace yourself.

Things have not been going my idea of well lately. "I'm not gonna lie." (One of Jackson's expressions.)

In fact, the last month or so had me feeling as though I would never, ever be able to create the change I'm after. I felt like my entire life was in upheaval. Perhaps because it was. It's interesting how prayer works, often producing results in ways we didn't anticipate when we began praying for help with a particular thing.

When you submit your will to God, you better be ready to surrender to the outcome. And to the process he takes you through, for that matter.

Several months ago I began working intently on creating change in my life. Real change. For me, this meant asking God for clarity, deciding what I wanted, taking accountability for those desires, prayerfully considering my course, then taking the steps necessary to get to the outcome I was after.

What I didn't see coming was what I'm going to define as the backdraft of change. Feel free to use this term. I think it's excellent. ;-) I'm sure there's a psychological buzz word for the concept. But I think my words are comprehensively descriptive. Therefore, better. :D

Let me explain.

In the movie Backdraft (with Kurt Russell, one of my favorites) right before a huge explosion, a reverse draft develops. A backdraft. Fire and smoke starved of oxygen, remain at a high temperature, and the combustion ceases. False sense of security, that closed door on a fire... No apparent change, right?

Wrong. In the movie, suddenly a door was opened and oxygen was introduced to the fire. In a split second the heated gases sucked up the oxygen (engaging combustion) and BOOM!! An explosion.

A big one.

"It's the dark before the dawn, Kathleen. Keep turning to the Lord. He's with you, carrying your burdens. And watch for the light to break through the clouds," Patriarch Hatch said to me when I visited with him and Harriet a few weeks ago. It was his response to the many hits I was taking on my path to what I deeply believed (after a lot of prayer) was the best course. And though it did not feel like a whole lot of burden carrying was going on, I knew he was right.

When I was in the middle of the knock downs, it was difficult to see clearly. I was honestly beginning to feel like I would never be able to change my life for the better. Finding my path through prayer, I didn't question my course. But aside from the obvious leveling, I could not understand what was happening. And I began to feel the sort of despair that hopelessness brings.

Fortunately for me, in addition to my personal pleadings with God, someone out there was praying for me. All of those prayers were answered. (Thank you. You know who you are.)

After reading my post last week, my sweet friend Anne-Sophie (born on my birthday and the same age as my daughter Kelsie), wrote of my effort not being wasted, following with, "...even if you can't see the outcome of your strength in pain or your hope in loss or your trembling in weakness....yet. It wasn't in vain."

I thought about her words and read the article she shared with me, The Best is Yet to Be. She said it helped her choose to trust herself during a difficult time and reminded her to trust God. (Thank you, Anne. I love you, sweetie.)

Today something happened in my thinking. A light turned on. I was given awareness, then understanding, then peace. In seconds.

God did that. He helped me see. He enlightened me. In answer to prayer.

I am creating change. And that is why all this crap has been happening! Because that's the nature of change, the scientific and spiritual nature of change. Nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes. So of course there's going to be opposition. A backdraft. Because I'm breaking patterns here. And breaking patterns creates resistance. Which produces strength. Which change requires. (Think about the seedling trying to sprout through the soil of the earth. Did you think breaking through the dirt to find the sun was easy? No pressure?)

It's almost as if nature conspires to test commitment. As if a soul desiring change seeks to be strengthened by the process itself, refined and prepared by and through the back draft, to be more.

It's a miracle, isn't it? The whole process?

There are all sort of stories out there about the strengthening benefits of adversity. You know the ones. They typically involve trees.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the oak tree strengthened by buffetings. I don't care about being strong enough to be someone's wagon wheel. I don't want to be the tree standing mightily all by itself out in the wilderness, strong because it had no protection from the storms. But by golly that wood is going to be fit for a fortress and make darn fine wagon wheels! Yea. No thanks.

I want to be the beautiful, delicate tree standing in the middle of the field with precious little flowers in the beds beneath me. Surrounded by a large and mighty evergreen forest for protection. I don't care to be made strong enough through buffetings to be a sturdy this or that for whatever it is you think you need to use a strong oak tree for. You get my point.

That said, and nevertheless, what I think doesn't matter. Or change God's law and/or the way He does things with His children. Who am I to question God's ways with me anyway? Or think the way isn't good just because it doesn't feel good or look good from my limited perspective? He helps us learn in the ways that are best for us, for our growth and strengthening. Doggone buffetings...

Given that I know there must be opposition in all things, and given my new found awareness of what is going to happen when I say I want change and I mean it, I wanted to offer my recent experience with change.

When the desire is real, and the actions are intent, there is going to be a backdraft.

So, brace yourself.

Because nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes.

For some odd reason, understanding that all this adversity represents that I am creating change gives me hope. And strength. And I feel strong enough in these moments to be the wagon, all the wagon wheels, and whatever else it takes to get to the change I want.

"I can do all things through Christ which strengthened me." Philippians 4:13

Having said this, I would prefer to be sitting in the wagon wearing a beautiful dress and beautiful shoes. The sparkling kind. Pink ones. Not red.

But whatever.

Be the change you want to see.

Shelter yourself in the storm. Run away if you have to. ;-)

Then press on.

And don't mind that backdraft. It's just a little hot air.

Gratitude. Regardless.





And here's my precious Anne-Sophie. She lives in Germany. And she's studying to be an architect. : )

Happy #87: Think your choices through to the outcome.

Your life is the result of your choices. Fortunately, for all of us, the past does not have to equal the future.

I've been giving a lot of thought to being "stuck" lately. I'm going through something personally that has been exceptionally hard on me. And difficult.

A month ago (well, years ago, but that's a different story...) a person's choices happened in my life. And I made some choices in response. In the weeks since the "event" I've tried to offer a truce, of sorts. I had hoped for a quiet resolution so peace could somehow be restored to our family's lives and we could all move on. But that's not what happened.

Consequently, tomorrow morning a news story hits the press and I have no idea what will happen from there. And it's unfortunate. Because it didn't need to go the way it has, and is.

But we all make choices, a direction follows, and a destination (outcome) is determined in the process.

How often are we mindful enough, aware enough, careful enough to consider the choices we're making in the process of our lives? Do we think about the outcome? Do we consider the destination our direction is deciding? Is it what we want? Because outcome happens by choice. All along the way...

A couple of weeks ago I was spending time with my dear friends, Gene and Harriet Hatch. They are older than me, and wiser. They were talking with me about life and things that have been happening lately. With all the love in her heart Harriet took my hand as we sat talking and said, "You've been working SO hard trying to make your life work, ever since you left your husband. And I know you feel like you're aging. But you're a young woman, Kathleen! And you're beautiful. And in about three days you're going to be 80. I know it doesn't seem like that now, because you're young. But about a day from now you're going to be 60. And then another day later you're going to be 70. Then the next day you'll be 80. The time is going to go by so fast. What are you doing for yourself, Kathleen? For your happiness?"

So I've been giving thought to her counsel, considering the ways I could make changes. Naturally, I've considered the power of choice to change the course of a future. And it's been striking me lately, how stuck we can sometimes be. Or at least how stuck we can feel.

My friend Peggy wrote something in her blog today that was much of what I've been thinking about being (or feeling) stuck. She wrote, "...as I have attempted to achieve some level of stability for my kids and myself, I have often felt like I was trapped inside a giant chunk of immovable stone, unable to turn my head in any direction, to hope, or even to breathe. I kept having this recurring image from my college art history class, of myself as one of those unfinished sculptures by Michelangelo, knowing there was something more under the rock that was beautiful and useful, perhaps even valuable, if I could just find a way to get it out... ...As I have given more thought to that feeling of being trapped in solid and unforgiving rock, like one of Michelangelo’s unfinished masterpieces, it has occurred to me that many of those pieces are just as famous and considered to be just as valuable as the ones that he did finish. They are in museums, too. In fact, when I went back and studied some of these statues again, they struck me as almost being more breathtaking than the polished and refined versions. They certainly stirred up more emotion in me. The passion of the struggle and the perfection of the parts that have managed to emerge, in stark contrast to the rock, represent the reality of the struggle that we all face each day."

I'm including this picture from her post because it's such a great visual representation of the concept. (Good job, Pegs.)



I don't want to look back when I'm 80 and feel like I was so busy trying to make my life work that I ended up stuck in the rock, totally missing the mark. Even if Michelangelo's unfinished pieces are maserpieces... (Although Peggy's comments did encourage me, reminding me that we are perfected in the process.)

I want to HEAR my friend Harriet (who IS 80), and make the choices to make my life worthwhile now in the ways that will matter to me then.

Peace and happiness, and the ability to contribute to other people's peace and happiness. That's what I want.

This story, about to run in the paper, doesn't give me peace. Or happiness. Largely because I didn't want people to be hurt by someone's actions. So I made the choice to hold back the truth, thinking it was the least hurtful thing. Until I realized I was being hurt in the process.

Our lives are the result of our choices. And choices give direction, resulting in a destination, an outcome.

So Happy #87 is simply stated: Think your choices through to the outcome. None of the story that's about to be released in the press had to happen.

"The truth is worth the risk," one of my favorite leading men said to his love interest in a movie I saw recently.

I hope so.

Happy #86: Happy Valentine's Day

Wanting to wish you all a Happy Valentine's Day, I was looking for an appropriate image online when I came across this photo that perfectly captures what I think most men feel about Valentine's day.


Interestingly, I have one very similar to it taken at my birthday party a couple of years ago.


Both pictures made me laugh out loud.

Hope your Valentine's day is a happy one, regardless. ; )

Happy #85: Learn from the Experience.

Fireworks, dancing, tears of joy, cheering, happiness, and a whole lot of love. One word was in their hearts that night. Freedom.

I was heartened by the Egyptian people and the pure resolve that secured their personal victory. I wondered as I watched them celebrating in the streets how they must have been feeling two or three days before the light broke through the darkness...

In his broken English one man said through his tears, "I feel like I was dead. Now I feel like I'm alive. I'm very happy now. I'm very happy to be an Egyptian now."

I've been inspired by their ability to hold on in their darkest moments when they had no idea the light was about to break.

I fully intended to get right back to the story I started a week ago. Turns out it was harder to tell than I thought it would be. It still is.

Truthfully, I'm not certain I'm ready to tell it. But I did want to take a minute to acknowledge the inspiration the Egyptians have been, and comment on something I've been learning in the process of what life is taking me through personally.

God and/or life gives us experiences. They are rarely what we expect, hard as some us of try to craft our lives in a way that we would like to see them actually go/turn out. These experiences can be surprising, sometimes wildly wonderful, periodically shocking, and now and again just flat out disheartening. Even heartbreaking.

But the thing about experiences, whatever they are, is that they contribute to the process of our learning and growth--for our good. And if we look closely, they are for the good of those around us.

This isn't always easy to see or understand. And sometimes it's not such a snap to feel good about whatever may (or may not) be happening. Especially if the experiences we're going through do not fit our perspective and/or world view of "good" experiences--like getting into a bad car accident less than an hour after you petition heaven for a miracle, for example.

But here's the first definition in the dictionary about hope:

HOPE  
noun, verb, hoped, hop·ing.
–noun
1.
the feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best.

I think if we can surrender to the process, to the experience, choose hope, and hold on to our resolve to change whatever it is we're trying to change about ourselves and/or our lives, perhaps we will find the learning meant to be the means by which the change comes.

The real progress is in the process, afterall.

Experiences come into our lives, regardless. It is our personal journey through the experience, and our personal accountability that defines us.

Learn from the experience. Whatever it is.

And have hope.

Because spring is almost here. : )

Happy #84: Push through the fear.

The I.R.S.

Scary, right? (Unless you're one of those structure people who LOVES paperwork and keeping impeccable track of things. In which case, you probably don't read my blog and/or should stop reading now because you will only end up shaking your head at my humanness...)

If I could make the text for the IRS really big right here, give it a wild font, and make it pulse all by itself on the computer screen, I would do it. The IRS seems to have a life of it's own and makes nearly everybody nervous. (Except, of course, for you structure types. And you're not supposed to be reading anymore anyway.)

I did something today that was on my freak out list. (It's #2 on my "change my life" game plan: do one thing, every day, that makes me want to run and hide.)

I called the IRS.

And I want to share this. Because pushing through my fear and making the call gave me a surprising return.

I'm not proud of how horrible I am with paperwork. It's my greatest weakness. So it was no surprise to me when I called the IRS, to find out that I was not one year behind in filing my returns, I was FOUR years behind. Don't judge me.

Pick your chin up off the floor and take back whatever unmentionables you just thought and/or exclaimed about my negligence. I guarantee you I beat myself up enough for all of us. And I assure you, I used to be REALLY good at getting my returns in. On time. Like clock work.

But that was then.

It wasn't purposeful. My (out-of-state) accountant, a back and forth with paperwork, my negligence in signing things and returning them in the mail, trying to finish a master's degree, take care of my home and family as a single parent, traveling back and forth to WA trying to get a business going (not to mention a boat load of other things/events/details I won't bore you with here...), and some things fall through the cracks. It just happens.

However, your tax returns should NOT be one of those things. So you can understand why, when I finally called the IRS to check-in, I was stunned and terrified when Mr. Green broke the news.

I had given the truth to Mr. Green. I didn't make any excuses. I simply offered my desire to fix the problem.

Shuddering at the possible consequences and the thought of the DAYS, maybe even weeks it would take to gather my documentation, contact my mortgage company, etc., etc., etc., I explained I would need time to complete my filing.

Then something wonderful happened. A miracle, really.

Trying to get a word in edgewise, Mr. Green explained they had everything on record. He said he would put an envelope (I'm picturing a large envelope here...) together with all of my paperwork and send it off in a nice little package. He shared with me I'd be able to take the entire packet to my accountant, provide a little bit of further information and the returns could be filed. Just like that.

If I could have jumped through the phone to kiss Mr. Green, I would have. I was so relieved. I exclaimed, "You are MY HERO!" (those are words that should sparkle on the screen), and I shared with him how very happy I was with how much he had helped me.

With a smile in his voice he said, "Well, I guess you can imagine we don't hear that very often around here." : )

In these moments I was reminded that when we push through the fear and do the things we have difficulty getting around to, the people on the other side of what we need to take care of typically step up to help us. Think of them as your friends on the other end of the phone.

Push through the fear. People are on your side.

Life is supportive.

And Mr. Green, with the IRS, ; ) you truly were my hero today. Thank you for helping me so kindly and for making the dreadful situation I found myself in seem manageable and hopeful.

Here's to you. :D

And here's to all of us imperfect people trying to be better by degrees, one day at a time. :-)

Happy #83: Remember "And it came to pass."

I need a beach with soft white sand, sunshine, palm trees, and the blue green water of tropical islands. Seriously. NEED...

I think you do too. Wanna know how I know?? Because EVERYONE seems to be in a funk lately.

I've been shocked by the number of people who have shared this with me over the last few weeks. Post holiday blues, winter wallows, and general blahs seem to be common and prevalent. Almost everybody I talk to seems to be wrestling with a hovering cloud.

So I've been thinking about it, have increased my exercise to compensate (and actually feeling pretty good as a result so I highly recommend it...), have tried to up the greens and reds in my diet (and I'm not talking about the fully decorated Christmas tree still standing in my front room), drink more water, etc., etc., etc., and tonight I read something that blessed me with the hope of spring.

It's from my friend Peggy's blog. In this post she talks about her experience with this year's winter. In her last paragraph she makes a reference to the snow looking like glitter. That got me, loving things that sparkle like I do. She had me at sparkling. ; )



So I'm sharing this, my favorite paragraph from her post, and including her link so you can read her writing for yourself.

(For those of you who are new to the online writing/publishing venue, when you see text in a different color such as THIS, you click on this highlighted text to get to the link. So fun.

Peggy writes, "Last week I was in a 4th-grade classroom, where my job was to walk around the room and help kids with their math. This particular teacher plays classical music during math time, and she also has an abundance of wise and happy thoughts on every wall in the room. I kind of want to be a 4th-grader in her class. On this particular day, it was very cold and gray, and it was snowing outside, but I felt warmth, peace, and hope. When I looked out the window, I noticed that the snow that was falling was so fine that it looked like glitter, sparkling as it drifted down. I could not see the sun, so I was puzzled by where the light was coming from. It struck me that enough light must be getting through the gray to light up the snow. I think I just didn’t see it before, because my focus was on my fear of the dark. Suddenly every single thing I need to do in the next six months was illuminated in my mind, and I did not fear it. I knew that spring was not far off. Winter would pass, as it always does, and I might even miss it when it was gone."

I loved that. "Winter would pass, as it always does..."

So Happy #83 is simply a reminder to remember, "And it came to pass."

Whatever it is.

It passes. It can't last.

So if for you it's sadness, or the winter blues, or worry, or whatever, it will pass.

And if you have joy and well-being, grab it and hang on. Try to make a memory with it that will serve you the next time you're waiting for winter to pass.

And hope for spring.

Then pass it on.

Thank you, Peggy. :D

Happy #82: Find some faith. Then get to work.

I'm going to keep this brief. Mainly because the effort to say something I've thought would be meaningful to you (combined with finding the time to actually write something meaningful) has resulted in writing very little lately.

Not that you've noticed... ; )

But this morning my friend and like-minded collegue, Roma, sent me a link to The Napolean Hill Foundation that is worth passing on.

In browsing the site, I found Dr. Hill's (hey, that's going to be me in a few years...) Success Scrolls--17 Principles for Success.

This one struck me in particular. So I'm sharing it with you.























Where will I find the $65,000,000.00 I need to create the Wharf development for the Port of Blaine and the faithful little community there praying for help with their town? I have no idea.

But I have faith. And creative vision. And so do they, for that matter. And we're all doing the work to make it happen.

So it's as good as done. And I do mean, done.

Watch and see. : )

In whatever you hope to do for good, find some faith. Then get to work. We'll all feel better. And maybe even make some miracles happen.

Hand in hand with God, we are.

Isn't it great?

Happy #81: Quietly voice your difference in thinking.

I don't get sick very often, but I came down with a terrible cold several days before Christmas. Not wanting to pass my illness around and wishing to limit the need to speak (because it hurt and because I sounded like a bar maid who smoked her whole life), I've been quiet and limited my social engagements for nearly two weeks.

It would have been an ideal time to write, had I been feeling better. But I wasn't. So I hung out with my children, lounged fireside watching movies, and napped for most the of the holidays.

But how long can you hibernate, really?

Medicating myself with about four over-the-counter cough and cold drugs a few nights ago, I went out for the evening with friends.

During dinner I was sitting across from Joe, 12, and his 9 year old brother, Sam.

Here they are, precious boys.



In the habit of being quiet, I mostly listened to others talk while we ate. The boys were engaging (very much a back and forth) with each other and with their dad. At one point Sam spoke, then listened for awhile to his father. He didn't interrupt. He didn't argue. He just listened.

When Bryan (Sam's dad) finished, nine year old Sam paused, looked directly at his father and said,

"I know how you think about it. I think about it differently."

And he went back to eating his dinner.

He was done. That was it. That was all he said. He didn't feel the need to explain or to try and change his dad's mind. It was enough for him to simply say he thought differently.

Priceless. And wise beyond his years, little Sam.

I knew immediately I wanted to write about it. So I pulled out my phone and snapped a picture for you. (Ok, I snapped several...)

I realize this has nothing to do with "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy New Year!" holiday wishes, but I think it's relevant to our season of change. And certainly relevant to learning. Which is what I want most these days.

I wonder what would happen if in our civic, social, and personal dialogue, we learned to respond the way Sam did when we disagree?

So Happy #81 is this: Quietly voice your difference in thinking. By quiet I don't mean silent. We can disagree kindly and respectfully, clearly and quietly. Like Sam did. Speaking up (or disagreement) doesn't have to mean argument.

A very happy New Year to you, btw. And all the very best for all of us in this bright and hopeful 2011.

Now, where's my Nyquil?

Happy #80: Make deliberate choices to create change.

This evening I joined my good friend Nate for the launch of his new project, I am happy. I am loved at Jam, a local gay bar in Salt Lake City, Utah.

Wearing my hair up, my white winter parka with the fur lined hood, black leather gloves, jeans (which could have worked if they weren't being worn with the wrong footwear), and my flat, grey, muff like suede and sherpa boots, I was entirely ill-dressed for the occasion. Except for my rosy cheeks, of course. It was cold outside.

I thought about what I was wearing as I drove to Nate's premier, about how ridiculous and unstylish I looked. Of all the places to be less than styling, a gay bar was not one of them. Women do, afterall, dress to impress other women and gay men. ;) But given I had just finished taking my son Keaton to see the new Narnia movie (and there wasn't time to change), I just went. I figured it was more important to Nate that I be there, than I be well dressed.

Nate's project is a nationwide campaign to create awareness for the gay community and the communities they live in about the importance of supportive relationships with heros, friends, family, and God.

It is a message we can all use, regardless of our sexual orientation.

I've had conversations with several people over the last couple of weeks about aloneness. It just kept coming up. So I've been thinking about why we make choices in our lives that create aloneness, why we create situations and/or relationships that result in our being alone and/or doing everything alone, and why we choose to be alone over being with others. Especially when nobody really wants to be alone. At least not all of the time.

For those of us who are introverts, being with people (crowds, parties, social events) wears us out. So balance is key. But that's not the choice to be alone I'm talking about here.

During reflective dialogue a friend said to me, "I know exactly why I chose to be alone. I didn't trust people would be there for me." She realized looking back on her life that when she was young she would go to her room, shut the door, and read to escape the chaos her family created. Naturally, not being able to trust her family to give her what she needed, she didn't trust anyone else would either. That belief and expectation became her world view. From there, and with this perspective, she continued to create experiences that would reinforce her beliefs. So the pattern continued to repeat.

But the beautiful thing about patterns is that with awareness and deliberate choices, they can be changed.

Bless Nate's heart for working to bring attention to relationships of support. He made a deliberate choice to use his time and talents to create awareness. I made a deliberate choice to support him, regardless of how uncomfortable I was going alone, looking like a train wreck. And trust me, I was uncomfortable. But showing Nate I love and support him mattered more to me than how I looked. And felt.

There seems to be a lot of aloneness going around out there. The natural result of the breakdown of the family and our disconnected society, no doubt.

But with one deliberate choice at a time, I think we can make our lives more of what we really want them to be. Instead of what we've created over time from a belief system (that we can't trust people, for example) that doesn't work for us.

Your life is the result of your choices. And deliberate choices make a difference.

So Happy #80 is this: Make deliberate choices to create change.

Put on your parka and your boots (the ones meant only to keep you warm, not make you look good), and get out there and show your love.

It's what matters most.

Nate, you are loved. And I am happy we are friends. Roll 'em! :)

Happy #79: Know what you want. And climb on.

This is another one of those posts where I know what I want to say, essentially. But I'm not certain the story I'm about to tell will say it, effectively. Or exactly.

So stay with me and we'll see how it turns out. :-)

Several years ago my kids and I were rock climbing with family friends. One particular climb I was interested in was the most difficult route I'd ever attempted. But I wanted the challenge. So I roped in.

I had carefully selected my course. There was almost nothing to hold onto for the ascent. And whatever holds there were, were few and far between. Details, I thought.

Climb on.

My friend was belaying me. Neither one of us suspected how difficult that climb would actually turn out to be. Least of all me.

When I was 3/4 of the way to the top, I literally could not go on. I had exhausted my personal strength and energy reserves. I simply did NOT have it in me to continue. I was shaking from the stress of the climb and the fatigue of trying to hang onto the wall with almost nothing to get a hold of. Several times I felt like I was going to fall.

My friend stood below, keeping me tethered, watching everything, giving me just enough rope with just enough slack. So he was also watching when my legs started to shake. He called out to me, "Kathleen, just sit back in the harness and rest. I've got you."

"...sit back in the harness and rest. I've got you."

So I did. I let go of the wall, sat back in the harness, and rested until I had the strength to continue. Then I finished the climb. After I stopped shaking. :-)

Interestingly, the "rest" taught me more about how to finish when something is hard than I ever would have learned had I pushed straight through.

1. I learned that on the way to what we want, things happen that we don't expect.
2. I learned that when those things happen, it's important to have the right person belaying the climb of our journey, someone who is paying attention. To us.
3. I learned the importance of listening.
4. I learned the importance of the pause.
5. I learned the importance of the right WE. And,
6. I learned the importance of hanging out with smart people. :-)

I've reflected on this event several times over the years. It stands out as a hallmark moment for me with regard to pursuing something we want and having the right person there in support.

"I've got you," he said. Those words in those moments of exhaustion were important for me. His suggestion that I rest (rather than shouting out, "YOU CAN DO IT!!", which he also could have done) was wise. And what I needed, which he knew because he was paying attention...

We were a team.

Being happy regardless doesn't mean you're happy no matter what. It just means that regardless of what happens in life, you find a way to look at it or work through it or think about it from a perspective that serves to lift, encourage, and strengthen you. In a way that gives you hope. And in a way that can help you succeed.

Know what you want. Because knowing what you want will help create the right WE, the team you need to succeed. You know, it's that whole "when the student is ready, the teacher appears" thing. They create each other. We show up for each other based on where we are and what we need. Yet another reason to know what you want...

And don't forget to sit back in the harness occasionally. Because that's part of getting to what you want too.

Climb on.

Happy #78: Pass the good along.

A discovery of something really wonderful and uplifting can give much needed light at just the right moment. Winter storms, being snowed in (and sick) at the cottage by myself on Thanksgiving, and what turned out to be one of the most unusual holiday weekends EVER, also produced some very good things.

Example?
SAM JOHNSON
San Francisco, CA, and his really, really good music.


I'm sharing him here because of everything this Thanksgiving weekend was (and wasn't) for me, it was all new. And he was the newest, freshest thing about it all. He's happiness behind a guitar. And I was happy listening to him the split second I heard his music. Immediately happy. That says something. At least to me. How often are you immediately happy by something you simply hear? The moment you hear it and before you even see it? It's all original and it's all him. His All the Lovin' is one of my favorites. It's remarkable.

So I'd like to help this young artist find the greater audience he deserves.

Naturally, I'm passing the good along. And I hope you will too. :)

Happy #77: Know what you need.

"Intense love does not measure. It just gives." Mother Teresa

I wish I had kept my camera out of my suitcase to capture the event I'm about to describe. This photo I found online comes close as I could find, but doesn't do the experience justice.

My son Keaton and I were at the airport in Salt Lake City waiting for our flight to Seattle. The plane we were boarding had been delayed. When it finally arrived, we sat quietly watching as the passengers came down the loading ramp and through the doors to the terminal.

You don't see people waiting at the gates much anymore. Since 9/11 and increased security, most greetings happen at baggage claim. So I was caught off guard by what happened.

A little girl ran from her mother's arms to greet her father as he came off the plane. His face lit up as he reached down and pulled her into his chest. She threw her little arms around his neck and began to cry. She just could not hold it back. Her tiny approximately five year old body was physically unable to contain her emotion and she flat out sobbed. Sobbed. Her Dad knelt there at the gate, holding her in his arms, while she cried with her love for him.

I have no idea how long it had been since she had seen her Daddy. But I will never forget the look in her eyes when she lifted her head from his shoulders and looked at him through her tears.

I saw the love in that child's eyes for her father. I saw how deeply she was feeling her love for him.

I hope he saw what I did. I hope he saw how much she needs him and how very, very much she loves him.

I'm not sure what this has to do with knowing what you need, except to say that Thanksgiving is a good time to find awareness of and gratitude for the love around us--both the love we feel for others and the love others feel for us.

In those moments at the airport, that little girl knew precisely how grateful she was for her father. And she didn't hold back. She didn't measure her love, or carefully meter it out.

Sigmund Freud said, "We are never so defenseless against suffering as when we love." Shocking, I know.

But perhaps in knowing how much we need someone, even if that love brings us to tears, we can find true gratitude for the love they offer in our lives--in whatever way they are able to offer it.

Find the five year old in you, and don't hold back. You might not get hurt very much, carefully measuring your love out, but you won't live very much that way either.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Grateful for your love,
Kathleen

Happy #76: Say something good.

I felt disappointment tonight. I've been thinking it through--why I felt it, what caused it, how I could have avoided it, how I move on from feeling it, you know the drill.

I was talking with a friend and after a long pause in our back and forth I said, "Well, I guess the best thing (another pause) is just to think about something else!" We both laughed.

But it got me thinking. These thoughts, unemotional as they may read, came through very deep feelings. A person can seem Ok and not be...

I thought about people, the world, the human condition, and the human response to a world so full of noise.

Politics are in upheaval, people are going hungry and without housing (suffering true human need), the press is covering the stories they feel are important, television is covering whatever drives the ratings up, marketing is driven by what will sell (pushing production and consumption), magazines publish what will get people's attention (providing information and promoting entertainment), etc., etc., etc., blah, blah, blah...

The common thread? People.

We let ourselves get SO busy. And I get that. Distractions can be a good buffer from whatever. Meetings, meetings, and more meetings--all supposedly geared to meet the needs of people. Busyness. And yet, if you think about it, every one of those people in those meetings (or involved in that work) all have one basic need other than food, water, and shelter. They all want love. We all want love.

I'm not saying all the other matters of are no importance. I'm just saying that what matters most are the connections we make with people and the effort we extend in helping them feel worthwhile--at showing them love.

Do we engage enough with anyone to be certain they feel seen? That they feel like they matter for something to someone? Do we say or do anything to signal we care?

For reasons I won't go into I felt less than and not good enough tonight. I'm fairly certain you've felt it a time or two yourself.

But why do we? Would you want the little girl who showed up with her parents at an evening meeting to feel like she wasn't good enough because she was wearing her pink bubble slippers instead of fancy shoes?

Would you want me to feel not good enough?

I didn't think so. We'd want the little girl to know she's enough for all the same reasons I want you to know you are enough. Because you are.

You are enough. And so am I, come to that.

We speak and write about politics (well, I don't), we speak and write about information, we work and work and work trying to make a life that will matter for something. And in the end, the only thing that really matters is what we learned and how well we loved.

We make mistakes. It's how we learn.

"Mistakes are the portals to learning," wrote James Joyce. This earthly experience is about relationships and learning. I think you can do the math. You're good like that. :)

Trust the process.

Find that little someone wearing bubble slippers (she or he is in a grown up body and probably not actually wearing the slippers) and show your love. Say something good.

This is a bowl of chesnuts.


And this is what they looked like when I took them out of their shells.


I was on a walk a week or two ago with my friend Roma when we walked by a bunch that had fallen to the ground and broken out of their casings. Roma was shocked. Shocked. She said, "How could I get to this place in life and NOT have seen these before??" Good question. ;)

Roma, you weren't missing out on the chesnuts. But they were definitely missing out on you. :)

See how easy that was? Roma is smiling. And feeling loved. :D

Say something good.

Happy #75: Move on.

If it weakens you and makes you cry, move on.
If it cripples you and halts your stride, move on.
If it makes you sick and turns you inside out, that's the surest sign it's not good for you.

Stop trying so hard to make something work when it doesn't, and simply move on.

Life's too damn short.

You get my point.

Happy #74: Keep things in perspective.

My clients and I were strolling today through the seaside village I am working in. The sky was blue, the bay was sparkling, and the brightly colored fall leaves of the trees gathered on the sidewalks and streets under the sunshine. It was a beautiful, crisp fall day in the Pacific Northwest.

Standing in it's strength as the new heart of the community, the building I designed a year ago (the Blaine Bank Building, which was recently completed) was the focus of our conversation. A breeze picked up and an unusual image just to the side of my face caught my eye.

I thought for a minute that maybe it was, well, I didn't know what it was. But a minute or two into the observation I realized it was a gray hair. A long one.

This was odd for me. I don't color my hair and as stressful as my life can sometimes be, I haven't started to gray. Or I thought I hadn't. But this strand of hair was gray. And it was really LONG. Which means it's been growing for awhile. Or maybe the whole cotton picking strand just lost it's color all at once. I don't know.

Anyway, I was so stunned that I pulled the hair out and began to express my sentiments of shock to my clients. There was a moment of silence and with laughter in his voice Brad said, "Jean (his wife, who has just undergone treatment for breast cancer) used to complain about gray hair. Until she didn't have any hair. Now she's just glad to have any at all, no matter what color it is."

Thank you Brad.

Keep things in perspective.