Be Still : A Beginner's Guide to Beginning Meditation

Years and years ago, I read a book that discussed meditation.  All I remember is that you were supposed to close your eyes, sit still and chant the same word over and over again.  I don't really know why - you were just supposed to do it.  This weak introduction coupled with religious suspicion  that emptying your mind of thought would let the devil in didn't serve my foray into meditation well.  I tried it a couple times out of curiosity and decided there just wasn't anything there except for being still, for which I had little appreciation.

Maybe you've noticed it, too, but meditation seems to be making a comeback.  The mysticism has been turned way down, and the most compelling sources indicate that a meditation practice is connected with greater productivity, clearer thinking, and ability to be fully present and in the moment all day long.  Increased ability to be present is what got my attention, as I constantly find myself days and days down the road without ever having looked up to appreciate what a blessed life I live.  I'm focusing on attentiveness in 2016, and working on it five minutes at a time seemed like a good idea, so into meditation I've gone.

It's difficult to explain exactly how or why, but after about six months of attempting to practice meditation, I believe the positive reviews are true:  even just a few minutes of meditation a day can deepen your experience of every day life, and give you a little extra calm.

Here's my Beginner Teaches Beginning Meditation Guide:

• Sit somewhere quiet, with your spine straight and uncrossed legs and arms
• Check your surroundings, so you can be confident there are no pests close by that might bother you while your eyes are closed.  For me, this means assuring myself there are no snakes lurking in the grass :)
• Set a timer - not more than 5 minutes.  Press start, and make sure you see the numbers begin to count down.  Otherwise, you'll have to stop meditating to make sure you really pressed start and that the minutes really are counting down.
• Close your eyes and just sit for a moment
• Check out how it is to be right here.  Can you feel the breeze blowing?  Do you feel sunshine on your face?  Are the birds singing?  Are your thoughts flinging around the inside of your brain like a game of ping pong?
• Consider your thinking self and your body to be two parts of the same whole, and locate where your thinking self is inside your body (I promise this will make more sense in a minute).  For me, my thinking self is usually tightly compressed into a ball, just above my right eye.  Or maybe it's left eye.
• Now, start to stretch your thinking self down into your body.  I imagine it's kind of like how Peter Pan presses his shadow onto himself when he finally manages to catch it so Wendy can sew it back on.  Or like turning the honey jar upside down and letting the honey slowly drip down the inside of the jar, or like pulling a window shade down over a window.  Your thinking self is stretching down into your body so you're inhabiting and feeling your entire body.
• Consider your body as you work your way from your head to your feet.  Think about how it feels, and notice if you're tense anywhere.  Think about how grateful you are for every heartbeat, every lung full of air, every task your hands perform, all the stairs your legs climb, and all the steps your feet take.
• When you've made it to your feet (it doesn't matter how long this takes you - it doesn't necessarily have to be a long time), take a few seconds to feel present throughout your entire body.  How many times a day do you feel wholly present?  If you're like me, probably not many.
• Now it's time to focus on your breath.  Breathe in deeply through your nose, and let the breath go as far down into your lungs as possible.  Feel your chest expand with the breath.  Pause for a moment at the top of the breath, and slowly exhale through your mouth.
• Continue to focus on your breath until the timer goes off.  Please note:  this will feel like approximately 27 years.

While you're trying to focus on your breathing, your mind will wander.  That's perfectly fine.  Just sync yourself back with your breath, no judgment.  This is the thing:  you're teaching yourself to focus, and your focus muscle may not be particularly buff in the beginning.  Just keep working it out, and you'll find that the more reps you do, the stronger your focus muscle becomes.  This is where the benefits of meditation seep into real life.  You'll find that - kind of magically, because it doesn't seem to be related, but somehow it is - your ability to hold focus and your ability to bring yourself back to focus more quickly grows, whether that focus is on balancing the budget, pushing through a complex issue, maintaining concentration in a room full of wild and crazy toddlers, or remembering why you walked into this room.

Another benefit of meditation is that it helps you internalize the moments when absolutely nothing is wrong, which is most of your life, by the way.  We all know that we don't have the past and we don't have the future - we only have the present.  If you take the moments of meditation and isolate them from all things past and all worries future, I can say with just about 100% accuracy that in this moment:

1. no one is harming you
2. you are not upset with anyone
3. everything in the right here and right now is absolutely, completely, wholly, totally just fine

The ability to be in the present, like the ability to focus, rather magically stretches into other moments of your life beyond your quiet meditation.  You'll find you can face situations with a deep down chill that might once have turned you upside down.  Why?  Because your understanding that everything is fine has expanded outside of your meditation sessions and into everyday life.

I  won't be running away to climb a far off mountain and sit in constant meditation anytime  soon ... life here is too good and there's too much to do.  But I can't explain the unaccustomed sense of calm that's undergirded me as I've contemplated a very crowded calendar the last few months and negotiated the unavoidable curveballs of life, except for this new practice of being still for a few minutes a day and focusing down to the very simplest of things: breath and being.  When you get those basics lined out, paying attention to the rest of life gets just a little bit easier.

Make Your To-Do List More Productive: Assign time values to tasks

Hurrah for Friday!  We've been rehearsing all week for the performances of Alice in Wonderland (the musical), presented by our homeschool co-op.  Wonderland, here we come!

Today I'd like to share something with you that's rendered rousingly positive results for me lately.  Particularly this past week, when we had to leave the house for drama rehearsal each day late afternoon, utilizing this plan has helped me get a little more done than I might normally have.

I'm a big believer in to-do lists, but this little two-step trick has helped me get more items crossed off my daily list than anything else I do.  Like all the greatest tips and tricks, it's pretty simple but the results can have you ticking items off your list instead of putting off until tomorrow what you could've done today.

Estimate how long each task will take 

Each day when I make the list of things that need to be done, I write down beside each item how long I think the task will take to complete.   As a general statement, I estimate in blocks of 15 minutes, and  I always round up rather than down.  So, my daily to-do list might look something like this:

Schedule out your work day

Next I write out the tasks chronologically.  This helps me be real about how much is really possible to get done in the time available, and it keeps me from beating myself up when some items wander onto tomorrow's list.  Having things written out on a time schedule lets me see how I'm doing at a glance based on what time it is, because honestly, the schedule rarely runs the way I expect it to and I'm frequently regrouping.  On extra busy days, when I'm working with a deadline, or when we have to cut our day short to go into town, it's easier to see how I can adjust.

Here's why this process is super helpful:

- it prevents expanding tasks to include related work.  I know other items on the list won't get done if I take on more than the stated task.  This keeps me from falling into traps like "let's see, while I'm pulling the healthcare paperwork, I'll just organize the whole file system".  It also puts on just a little time pressure that requires a steady pace.  That helps me avoid things like "oh, I have a few minutes to watch this one video."  We all know there's no such thing as one video.

-  with one look at the to-do list, it's easy to see which items can be completed in any available time slot.  For example, if I know we need to leave the house in 30 minutes, in the past I might have blown off trying to use this chunk of time.  Now I can choose a task that I've estimated will take half an hour, or maybe a couple of 15 minute tasks, and those things are knocked off the list.

-  perfectionist tendencies are soothed.  My inner perfectionist  hates leaving things undone.  When I'm confident I have the estimated time available to complete a task, I'm more likely to begin it.  Estimating realistically but a little on the generous side gives me a pleasant sense of accomplishment and helps me feel like I have more control over time.  Perfect!

- when the day is way-laid by the unexpected, it's easy to salvage what time is left.  Maybe the morning is taken up by pulling together paperwork from hither and yon, but you know you'll have two free hours in the afternoon.  Now's the time to review the task list, pick items that will total two hours of work and get busy,  All is not lost!


And of course, there's the best part ... crossing things off!!  What's your system for making a great to-do list?

Just Keep Going

Happy Friday!  I hope you've had a productive week!  I hope joy found you!

At the beginning of this week I wanted to feel expansive.  Don't laugh, I know it sounds grandiose.  That's what planning and sticking to the plan does for me in the face of a to-do list and schedule that are completely whacked out for the next two months.  And my kids don't even play baseball :o)

I was expecting to use our results from this week's Family Surfing Night for a blog post this week, because you know - Family Surfing Night was on the schedule and all.  We did have the companion Family (Sitdown) Dinner, however FSN was bumped by a high level discussion about the cell phone bill.  Let's just say a family plan with six lines plus travel to Mexico can be a tricky proposition.  Our cell phone carrier already credited us $347.00 - yes!  three HUNDRED forty seven dollars!! - and we STILL need to speak a supervisor.  Maybe the supervisor's supervisor.  ¡Ay, caramba!

Postponing Family Surfing Night had me casting about for a post topic, and I came upon the following that I wrote sometime in the dim past.  I can't remember why I wrote it, but write I did, and then promptly forgot about it.  That's how all the forgetting is these days ... prompt.  

When I hear authors and writers speak about writing, so often they say to write what you yourself need to hear.  Dear Me, do I ever need to hear this one.  A wonderful family vacation where eating was so much fun, plus a few emotional weeks, plus an exercise schedule out of sync equals : hello ten pounds I thought I'd lost, but now I've found.  Sigh.  

If you're in need of a little motivational reality talk, this one's for you.  And for me.  Mostly me.  

I'm not sure anything is worse than seeing no progress in the face of  trying. so. hard.

You fix the goal in your mind and in your heart and begin the march toward it.  It's personal, so there's no one to walk beside you to ease the tedium of the journey.  It's just you and the trail.  There are days when you can feel the press of the heart change just there, so close.  And then there are days when it seems you're just walking in place, and nothing you do sets you forward.

Chuck Swindoll compares striving toward a goal to climbing a mountain. You begin, and although the peak is admittedly high, you expect you'll be there within the hour - maybe an hour and a half.  And you keep looking up to the top to check your progress, but it doesn't get any closer.  Each step is a groundhog day, and with every glance to the top you become convinced you're frozen in place.  The peak rises there above you, the gap between it and "you are here" maddeningly vast.

In the face of no apparent progress, of course you cast about for an easier route.  You search for a shortcut, but the truth is there's only one path to the top.  It's those moments when your effort seems to render no progress at all that it's so critical to just keep going.  Just keep going, even though it seems to make no difference.

Because the thing is, there isn't a short cut.  There isn't a tomorrow that's easier, or a method that's easier.  Our human nature wants to choose the path of least resistance, the easiest way, the shortest cut.  But that path brings you nowhere near your best self, and it does nothing to develop and challenge your skill and your talents.  The path of least resistance takes you straight to mediocre, just enough to get by, and the smallest possible life.

And REALLY, if you stop trying right now, you'll see that what you're doing DOES matter.  If you stop trying right now, you'll be slipping back down the mountain, faster and faster, further from your goal before you realize it's happened.  And when you finally finish that out of control slide and look up to see where you are, you'll see that whatever it is you're doing right now that you think doesn't make any difference, actually represents half a mountain's worth of progress, and holding onto that progress is far better than losing ground and having to start at the bottom again.

So don't stop.  Keep going.  You can do this.
Where you are is lots better than where you were.

And now, because it fits so nicely and oddly enough I will never see this video too many times, 

here's a bit from Shia Lebeauf that says it all.  

It gets me every single time ... simultaneously, I laugh and want to do something great.  

So come on ... let's DO IT!  

My New Favorite Phone App, #2

I'm not a super techie girl, so when something really works for me, it's a pretty big deal.  The Pomodroido phone app was my first Favorite App pick; I still use this timer app regularly and I'm certain it helps me get more done and motivates me to stay on track.  You can read my post about this simple yet profoundly impactful phone app here.  

My latest favorite app is First5, a free Bible Study app offered by Proverbs 31 Ministries.  The name says it all:  it's a short (five minute or so) read, meant for the first five minutes of your day.  Beyond just a Bible Study, you can opt to use an alarm from within the app to wake you up that holds your phone at First5 for the first five minutes, so you can be sure to set your mind and heart up for the day with something thought provoking and encouraging.

I don't use the alarm myself, since just knowing the idea is to spend your first five minutes in Bible study instead of email or social media is motivation enough for me.  I know from experience that the days that I jump right into the media whirl never do seem to get off on the right foot.  One thing leads to another and before I know it, the morning is well beyond where I'd like to start my day.  There is, however, kind of an itch to be on my phone first thing in the morning, and First5 satisfies that in a positive way.  After I read the First5 study, I move along to other things I'm reading and it's the kick off for my Bible study/prayer time/day planning.

First5 Bible studies are substantive and thought provoking, and they offer a lovely shareable graphic to go along with each day's topic.  At the end of each post, there's also a comments section where you can leave your own comment and connect with other readers.  Study authors are Lysa TerKeurst, Wendy Blight, Whitney Capps, Leah DiPascal, Wendy Pope, and Krista Williams.  Although the study is short, it's satisfyingly in depth, and the approach of going through the Bible featuring one verse from each chapter gives you a real sense of momentum.  I heard about this app on a podcast, and I seem to remember that if you stick with First5, you'll go through the entire Bible in two years, five minutes at a time.

If you want a little more info on the day's topic, you can click through to the "Go Deeper" section for a few more related thoughts, and if having a Study Guide is your thing, that's available for a nominal price.  Daily devotions are right there for your Monday through Friday, and on weekends, there's a video wrap up discussion by the authors.

I love the sequential study, which offers familiar and not so familiar topics, along with original thought on each subject.  But my favorite thing is that using First5 gives a nod to the urge to pick up my phone first thing, all the while getting my day started in a meaningful way.  Once I click into First5, the urge to step into the technological whirl abates and I can focus on spending some time centering my heart and mind on God.

If you give First5 a try, I'd love to know what you think.  And if you have a favorite phone app, I'd love to know that, too!

The Discipline of Intentional Preparation

Years ago, we were part of a small group that shared dinner together at a different home once a month.  One night, we arrived at the host house only to knock at the door and stand dejectedly on the front porch while a VERY LOUD argument about who should make the coffee made its way from the back of the house to the front.  Quickly, we knocked even louder, in hopes that they'd hear us, answer the door and pretend nothing was wrong.  Because that's what you do, right?  Alas, they were so occupied with World War III that they couldn't hear us knocking, and we decided to slink back to the car and drive around the block.  We "arrived" again a few minutes later, to a  happy and loving couple - the crisis apparently averted.  I never did find out who finally made the coffee :o)

Ah, yes, the pre-party meltdown.  We are well-acquainted.

Historically, I've been a leave it to the last minute person, and I tried to claim the "some people work best under pressure" mantra, although the stress of coming in right under the wire always seemed to invalidate the argument.  I convinced myself that daily life kept me so busy that I didn't have time to prepare for the extras prior to the wee hours of the night before, and although my final preparations may have often been last minute, I managed to pull things together fairly consistently. (Most of the time.  I think.  If you know me and this is not the case, please break it to me gently.)

Prep time was habitually discounted in my world, and never factored in appropriately - it happened late, and always with gross underestimation of the time required.  Feeling squeezed, pressured, and frenetic, my focus fell on the ANTI-thrill of will-I-or-won't-I pull it together, and worst of all I was robbed of anticipating the pleasure of whatever I was preparing for.

The impact ran pretty deep.  It left me feeling depleted and exhausted before the good stuff even happened, and could crack open an unlovely and not-so-generous place in my heart.

It turns out that preparation is the antidote.

Last year I finally decided I was getting a little old for this day-before stress and pressure, and I determined to learn the discipline of scheduling prep time for recurring tasks a few days in advance.  For example, my lesson plans for next week are finalized on Tuesday afternoon, which circumvents the frenzied Monday morning scramble to get it all together before (sometimes after) the kids get up for school.  The final preparations for Friday Enrichment classes are done on Tuesday and Wednesday, lending Thursday evening a luxuriant spaciousness.  Last summer, I applied the prepare in advance concept to vacation prep, wherein I spread all the gathering of clothes for a family of six and washing and folding and packing and cleaning over four days, and we were packed two days before departure, a never before in history event of epic proportions.

It's a lesson I'm trying to push into other areas of my life, this scheduled and purposeful preparation.  It helps me feel grounded and grown up.  It makes the days longer and rhythmic.  Yes, there is still a mountain of things to do, but there is plenty of time when I don't deny there's a multitude of tasks, schedule them out and keep to the plan.

Karen Mains, in her book Open Heart-Open Home says, "Hard work indicates I'm not managing my time well, not planning or preparing ahead, doing too much, not being dependent on the the Lord's strength, but on my own."  Yes, my own strength has me frazzled and frenzied, chasing the mess into the master bedroom before guests arrive.  Leaning on the strength of the God of Order has me grounded in reality, planning and preparing.  Sometimes, it has me facing the fact that I can't do everything, and editing the list down to manageable.  And best of all, I enjoy the preparation and have the pleasure of genuine anticipation.

I talk like I've got this thing down, but in reality I know my grip on it is a little more tenuous than it is disciplined.  Somewhere down the orderly line of days on the calendar, I'll reach that point where I'll have had ENOUGH with all the discipline and will be powerless to do anything but ignore the to-do list for a little while.  I suspect it's possible that the discipline of intentional preparation can be applied to that part, too.  I'll let you know :o)

Hello 2016 - Let's Do This!

I'm pretty sure I'm an extroverted introvert.  The kind that loves people and quiet, and parties and solitude.  It's only taken me fifty or so years to recognize all that is rather conflictive.  But finally, for the most part, I've learned to accept and appreciate both sides of the coin at the same time, no matter which side lands face up.

For the longest I couldn't understand why, if I loved my people, did I long so much for solitude?  Rather than coming to a great understanding and then knowing how to walk in it, understanding came in actually walking - or more accurately stumbling along - right through it.

There was a time when I believed my final words in this life would be, "Not so loud, please."  Because that was the season:  Loud.  And I couldn't articulate the need, but so often I longed to pause, to breathe, find perspective, gather strength and just be still.  There wasn't a lot of time for that in the loud season.  It came in snatched minutes of fleeting peace during naptime, and stolen moments of quiet on mornings when the sleeping late wasn't an annoyance but a blessing.  Now I look back on that desperate need for quiet and smile ... what wouldn't I give for those young ones to push the books out of my lap to rock away a sleepy head just one more time?

Having come through that season, I appreciate deeply how stepping away from life for just a moment to shuffle the edges straight is a gift.  Literal this time, delivered on Christmas morning with a date and a get away plan and gracious indulgence from LtDan.  We went to one of our favorite local-ish hotels and enjoyed a Friday night out on the town and a room service breakfast on Saturday morning, then LtDan headed home and I spent the rest of the weekend in quiet reverie with my books, thoughts, aspirations and goals.  I packed as if I were going to spend a month, not a weekend.  My book bag weighed ten pounds (really - I weighed it), and there were even more books tucked into my computer bag along with my laptop.  I took a scentsy burner, a wireless speaker, and extra coffee.  I moved furniture so I could sit and gaze out the window.  I had pizza delivered just for me.  I got a late checkout time.  It was beyond lovely.

The point of all this alone-ness was to spend some time thinking and planning for the New Year.  And now with all this talk about a wonderful weekend away to do just that, I'm thinking I better deliver on a pretty fantastic year :o)

I used }this{ fabulous workbook from Leonie Dawson to pull all things resolutions together, and it was wonderful to be guided and cheered along, beginning with a Closing Ceremony for 2015.  When the workbook arrived in the mail and I took a sneak peek through it, the review of last year was intimidating - 2015 was an nondescript blur, and I thought I wouldn't be able to fill even a quarter page with memories.  But with time and gentle review, lo and behold, the page was filled with so many things too good to forget.

With Leonie's cheery and colorful promptings, I considered what I wanted 2016 to be.  What resulted wasn't the tidy list of New Years Resolutions that I've crafted in years past, but a body of work that stands on its own.  It's part scrapbooking, part doodling, part dreaming, part planning.  I feel like the year came in a box labeled "Assembly Required" and the satisfying outcome is for real, bright and shiny.

One of the most significant lessons I began to internalize just the tiniest bit in 2015 is that victories aren't in the completion of a thing.  Victories come in behavior, whether it's a drastic change or taking one step and then another and another toward a goal.  If I want a healthier body, for example, the true victories come in taking my vitamins, drinking water, regular exercise and eating more healthfully.  A number on the scale and a size on a dress isn't the victory, it's just a representation of the real thing.  The real victory is in the daily choices and behaviors that bring about change.

My 2016 resolutions reflect a focus on behaviors, then, rather than outcomes.  I'm looking for ways of being as opposed to things to accomplish.  Here are the biggies of what I'm aspiring to in 2016:

Health

Walk 500 miles (I use the MapMyWalk app on my phone)
Count Calories (I use MyFitnessPal)
Eat more vegetables (three cheers for green smoothies!)

Creativity

Craft projects just for the fun of it
Take more pictures of all of us (look out family!)
Learn to make Bread Pudding (as good as that one 28 years ago in the little cafe on the Waxachie town square)

Family

Celebrate family in all configurations (i.e. less than all of us is still family!)
Host special family dinners at the table once a week (even if not everyone is home!)
Surf the Internet together on Family Surfing Night once a month (even if not everyone is home!)
Go adventuring on more field trips

Personal

Cultivate the habit of taking breaks (using the Pomodoro method and the Pomodroido app)
Count gratitude every day
Capture and retain things I learn with better note taking and review

Word

The word "attentive" popped up several times from various sources over the past few weeks, and that's the word I've chosen as my word for 2016.  I regret that so much of my life just slides right by uncelebrated, unenjoyed, unnoticed and unsavored.  I expect being attentive to my life will help me appreciate and experience its goodness more often and more deeply.

Verse

As companion to my word of the year, I also chose a Bible verse that echoes the same sentiment: "Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who trusts in Him." (Psalm 34:8)  Obviously, there will be a lot of eating this year.  (just kidding)  When I started looking for a special verse for 2016, I wasn't trying to make my word and verse reflect each other, but this verse is where God lead me - funny how that works, isn't it?  I love that the verse speaks to experiencing God's goodness through the senses, which would be the deepest attentiveness to life possible.

I also learned in 2015 that what the smart kids keep saying is true:  if you want to change something, you have to track it.  By the end of the year I could see that even inconsistent tracking made a significant impact, so for 2016 I upped the ante and identified 16 daily behaviors that will drive me to satisfying results at the end of the year if I just stick to it and do them daily (I'm using an Excel spreadsheet to track them).  To listen to a great podcast from Todd Henry at The Accidental Creative about what he calls The Dailies, click }here{ - it's great stuff.

I'm excited to see what 2016 will bring and will be savoring the "oh yeah, I have this whole thing figured out" feeling for as long as I possibly can.  Probably about five more minutes.

New Years Resolutions are something I completely geek out about (can you tell?), and I'm fascinated when other people talk about their New Years goals.  Did you make resolutions this year?  What kind of things have you resolved?

p.s. all photos in this post are of Leonie Dawson's Shining Year Workbook.  

Aren't they so happy?

Resources for a Bright Shiny New Year

The fresh start aspect of both Back to School and New Year's appeals vastly to me - they're my favorite times of the year.  In September there's new crayons, and in January there are new calendars, what's not to love?

Even when I was a little girl, I was big on New Year's resolutions, and most of the time I take time to line out my plans and resolutions for the year between Christmas and New Year's, but this year I tried to focus on actually taking that time off  ... no surprise: it was lovely :o)

Not having lined out my plans and resolutions by January 2nd would normally drive the perfectionist in me completely crazy, BUT ... for Christmas, LtDan gave me the best gift EVER: a night away to rest and relax and just be still.  Having that night close enough to the New Year to consider it a New Year's Retreat makes me a little giddy, I'm not going to lie. I'm fairly sure LtDan may not really get this part of me, but he's marvelously gracious in indulging it and I love him for it.  I asked for one night, and he gave me two, so there's a date night and a retreat rolled nicely into one spectacular gift.  D o u b l e  YAY!

Here are a few things I'll be working with on my Back to the New Year Retreat:

Leonie Dawson's Shining Year Workbook

When I stumbled on this post from digital strategist Nathalie Lussier, wherein she lists the top ten planners for entrepreneurs, I was in planner heaven.  I poured over each suggested planner, considering and evaluating the merits of each one, but the one that pulled me right over the moon was Leonie Dawson's Shining Year Workbook.

This isn't a planner in the calendar sense - it's a workbook to guide you through planning how you want the coming year to be.  It begins with a review of the past year and gives you a place to remember the great, the good and the won't-do-that-agains, and a place to put it all to rest so you can move on to dreaming up a shiny new year.

Although I do generally make resolutions every year, I would be hardpressed to produce a respectable list of said resolutions from any year gone by.  I'm so excited to use this book for 2016 - it's beautiful and whimsical and colorful and optimistic.  With such a happy place to get it all down, I'm sure I'll be returning to it regularly to keep the shiny dream fresh.  It's such a brilliant idea to make a true workbook for dreams and goals and resolutions, and I'm pretty sure Leonie's workbook will be an annual purchase for me.  I also went back and purchased her weekly planner for 2016.  Because, you know:  planner junkie!

Sacred Ordinary Days 2016 Liturgical Planner

I came upon the Sacred Ordinary Days Planner back in late October and have been using it ever since.  This planner fuses the liturgical calendar, the Book of Common Prayer and a daily planner. Although my own church experience when I was growing up didn't provide experience with liturgy or the Book of Common Prayer, I'm intrigued by them.  

I've been looking for a daily plan to follow for Bible reading and prayer, and this lovely book fits the bill beautifully.  I don't use it as a daily planner per se, but it's the place I'll be writing down what I learn and ponder in my daily spiritual walk.  In the past, I've used various books and spiral notebooks, but I've kind of jumped around and have wished for a regular place to write things down.  I'm excited to finally have a book that I know I'll use consistently.  Click }here{ to read about the KickStarter campaign that got Sacred Ordinary Days started - the print run has already completed and sold out, but you can purchase a PDF of the book }here{.  In my own experience, printing the book pages on my own paper made stepping into the bound book less intimidating.  Anyone else have a hard time writing in a brand new book/planner/journal the first time, or is that just me?

Evernote

I've always been a journaler, and a big five-subject spiral notebook and a pencil have always been my preference, but I'm slowly making my way toward using a digital journal, and Evernote works well for me.  I'm looking forward to reading back over 2015 and hope to see some patterns and remember things I wish I could remember I learned :o)

Word and Theme for 2016

I've not done this before, have you?  I'm super late to this party, but I keep reading about choosing a single word or theme for the year.  It sounds like a great way to maintain focus, so I'm in.  I'm not sure who had the original ideas, but here's a great post by Laura at the Hollywood Housewife that puts it beautifully.

How about you?  

Are your resolutions already taped to your mirror, or do you get along just fine without any?  

Happy New Year 2016!

Did you make it through the holidays?  Are you ready to bring in a brand new year?

In spite of my grappling not-going-to-say-Grinch-like start of December, by God's grace I wrested my heart into resting in grace, and finally relaxed into enjoying the holiday however it came together.  Mostly it was me reveling in the decorating and Christmas Carols, and me doing Elf on the Shelf (although my family seemed amused by my efforts); I watched A Christmas Carol three times, and one of those times the whole family was present.  I think that may have been the ONLY time we were all home together in the evening in the month of December ... it was our own family Christmas miracle!

My typical approach to getting the house ready for guests over the years has been to act like a lion-tamer with the mess, chasing it from room after room, until finally it's contained behind the door of the master bedroom.  That's worked to get the house clean and tidy, but then walking into our bedroom was like walking into a war zone.

This year I did things a little differently and started cleaning with the master suite, and the affect was AMAZING.  Even though no one else went in there, it was a quiet source of contentment to know that my room was tidy, and slipping in there to grab wrapping paper or a coat was a source of peace rather than shame and chaos.

Starting the house-clean in our bedroom also put a different spin on cleaning the rest of the house; it helped me remember that as much as we were preparing the house for our guests, we were also preparing and cleaning and tidying it for ourselves.  In the past, I always felt there just wasn't time to give this private gift to myself, but I won't neglect this one, ever again.

My sister invited us for a Christmas Eve dinner party, and served our family-traditional menu, oyster stew complete with oyster crackers.  She thoughtfully supplements the meal with amazing hot sandwiches for the non-stew lovers.  For dessert we all made our own mini-pies, using a plethora of candy filling choices and sweetened condensed milk.  While the pies were cooking, we each decorated our own Christmas ornaments.  It was so much fun to have a few moments of spontaneous creativity together at the table.  This is one of my very favorite meals of the whole year, both for the mouth watering oyster stew and the pleasure of sitting at my sister's beautifully set table.

We hosted Christmas day for both our families, and served Christmas dinner for eighteen.  Although this is customarily considered to be the most pressurized meal of the year, I've done this meal so many times in partnership with my sister and sister-in-law with support from my mother-in-law and sister-in-law from out of state, that believe it or not, for me it's probably the easiest meal of the year.  The cajun spiced turkey coming from Dickie's is the centerpiece, which makes it possible to focus on all the yummy side dishes and desserts.  We all have our assigned specialties and nothing on the buffet is neglected - every dish is completely wonderful!  We set up four tables in the family room and after the meal my favorite thing happened:  everyone lingered past seconds and over well-cleaned plates to visit.  The room hummed with great conversation and laughter and lots of love.

After dinner, our tradition is to have a White Elephant Gift Exchange.  One of the greatest things about a White Elephant Gift Exchange is that it's the perfect chance to offload unwanted gifts.  For years, I've been tripping over the snare drum Ben used in 8th grade drumline class.  I finally put it into the bag to take to Good Will, but pulled it out when I needed to round up extra White Elephant Gifts.  Imagine my surprise when my brother-in-law delightedly snatched it up (and the stand!  and carrying case!) - White Elephant gold, for both of us!  I scored a very nice Pierre Cardin pen and pencil set, but my favorite gift were the fake snowballs made of felt that my sister and brother-in-law picked up somewhere on the Arkansas/Texas border.  The snowball fight erupted as soon as they came out of the bag.

Our kids are of the age where they're a little hard to buy for - I always want to choose the just right gifts for each of them (ah, Christmas perfectionism, you joy killer) and I wasn't sure if I'd come close this year, but I think everyone was pretty happy.  My brother, eternal kid at heart, gave us a real deal popcorn machine, just like at the movies - it's SO CUTE and after years of microwave popcorn, I feel like I've discovered a new delicacy.  My sister-in-law gave me a sign to add to my winter decor and an adorable penguin Scentsy diffuser that makes me chuckle every time I look at him.  If you ever feel depressed, you must watch March of the Penguins to the end.  And then ever after, even on your worst of the worst days, you will tell yourself, "At least I'm not a penguin" :o)

In late November, I bought myself a Christmas gift, the sweetest book, The Art of Holly Hobbie.  I left it in the package until the day after Christmas, when I curled up on the couch and had the most lovely afternoon pouring over her whimsical artwork and words, while everyone else indulged in long winter's naps.  Oh, those rosy cheeks, those graceful hands, the intricate and whimsical detail, the delicate coloring ... nothing takes me back to my childhood like Holly Hobbie.

We rang in the New Year with good friends and January 1 has worked its magic on me ... the idea of planning and resolutions and goals completely geeks me out.  I make resolutions every year, and for several weeks, maybe a few months, with great luck nearly all year - some of them motivate me to work on refining me and my life.  Every year I know this will be the year I'll accomplish all of them :o)

Wherever you are and whatever your 2015 was, I hope that 2016 is a year full of sweet moments, true contentment, and deepest growth for you.  I thank you so much for stopping by my corner of the internet every now and again.  Let's fill 2016 with heaps of joy!

The Spirit of Christmas Mom Present

It's December, and the height of the Christmas season.  I decorated, and drank hot chocolate, and pretended it's cold outside, but my Christmas Spirit is flagging and I don't feel very merry - I feel exasperated.  Write what you need to hear, they say. I need to give myself a good talking to and write myself to right.  Am I the only mother of young people who's missing her compliant little ones and searching for her missing in action Christmas Spirit?  How can I write a blog about joyful seasons in a state of un-joy?

"We're attracted to scars," he says, "they're the only thing we have in common."  If you'll pardon my sarcasm and my terrible attitude, here is my scar on this gray December morning - no, not really a scar; it's an open wound:  I want this Christmas season to be the kind that requires two syllables to name it.  Bless-sed.  That means I want my people to join in the celebration, partake in the joy, participate in the traditions.  That means I want my people to do Christmas right.

I want pockets of sacred connection, moments that twinkle, and unbroken circles.  I know it's the birthday of Jesus, and I'm a terrible person to focus on the season and not the reason.  I know that we're supposed to be working toward a holy crescendo by Christmas Eve ... but can a mom get her people to participate in the seasonal pleasures without an alignment of the planets, and can a mom lead the way to merry and bright and get people to just SHOW UP?

Schedules conspire to cancel out ever being all together as a family. People are tired of being busy and they just want plain old ordinary days.  Tossing a wink and a nod to family traditions and activities seems to be all anyone but me wants to do this Christmas.

So what I want to say right now is forget Christmas.  It's a culmination of all things holy and love and family and joy-filled favorite traditions, and what I feel right now is that I've invited my people to the feast and they're not even willing to stop by 7-11 and pick up some ice.

I pull out my soapbox, stand tall upon it, flip on the bullhorn.  PEOPLE!  If you don't put effort into making the season SPECIAL, it's just like any other season!  Christmas will just be another DAY!  It'll be just one day in a parade of 365!  You have to work to make it SPECIAL!

I told you I had a terrible attitude.

Logically, I know they aren't intentionally distracted or disinterested.  My people are involved in their own lives, and in the pursuit of my own vision of holiday perfection, maybe I've made Christmas a spectator sport.  With my ever sharpening parental hindsight, I'm beginning to see that over the years I've focused too much on making Christmas my vision of perfection.  I've done most of the work so my people can RSVP Christmas and not even put on a Christmas sweater.  In attempting to craft perfect Christmases, I neglected to teach them that the most valuable thing they contribute to the party, the season, the day - is their participation.

I know the temper tantrum raging in my emotions is overblown and immature.  The behavior change that I want is in someone else, not me; I can't control it.  My people are no longer pliable, directable toddlers - they're young people with their own lives, their own thoughts, their own desires, their own schedules, none of which I can control.  I know the only thing I can control is my own attitude, which happens to stink right now.   There's no grace and there's no graciousness emitting from this heart of mine, and I know well that there is nothing in it that compels anyone to gather round the yule-tide fire.

Even so, I want my people to be the perfect Victorian characters I envision.  And aha, there is the problem ... I want everyone's participation on my own terms.  Anything less than my definition of perfection doesn't count.  But who am I to say their efforts don't count?  Who am I to judge that?  Maybe they're doing the best they can.  Maybe in their world, this kind of Christmas is just fine.  And maybe they could turn around and judge me, with my demanding, it's-not-good-enough, pinched countenance as I adjust the twinkle lights and amp up the Christmas Carols.

Maybe I'm not the embodiment of the "Christmas Spirit" that I'd like to think I am.

I contemplate my eternal Parent/Child relationship, God and me.  What is Christmas like at God's house?  I consider Christmas in the church of my childhood, wherein it was disappointingly nothing at all - there was no mention nor celebration in that particular congregation of that particular religion in that particular era.  I suspect if I examined it deeply, my conclusion would be as with other things I've concluded about this religion:  at its root, the desire to keep the focus simple was genuinely pure, and at the branch tips, the fruit became judgment and rules.

Like my Christmas expectations for my people.

I consider how God conducted the first Christmas: quiet, at a donkey's pace, and the rejoicing was wonderment, not frenzied.  I consider God's gracious invitation to Christmas.  "See, I'm doing this new thing, in a manger.  I'll provide the Savior.  I'll wrap up the gift in my grace.  You don't have to do anything at all - just come as you are, and take in as much glory as you can manage.  I'll be so glad you're there."  That ... is compelling.

So I see.  I see I can try to create perfection, where everything is in its place, all the ornaments glitter just so, the presents sit just right.  I can expect the guests to come dressed in their holiday best, bringing holiday cheer, caroling as they brush the snow from their shoulders, relinquishing gifts and pumpkin pies.  I can expect the Christmas meal to be a slow and leisurely affair, with profound and loving conversation around the table

... or ...

I can just let it be enough that they're here.  I can let it be enough that I have a chance to love them through a hamstring of mistakes, even though there is no fitting Christmas Carol about wise men who get stuck in a cycle of one rotten thing after another.  I can let it be enough that I can love them in and out the door as they dash through on the way to do things that are young and exciting, wild and free.  I can let it be enough that they greet me cordially and are genuinely happy to tell me what they did today.  I can let it be enough that they express interest in family traditions.  I can let it be enough that they remember fondly the time when.  I can let it be enough that they did, actually, show up.

What's the spirit of this Christmas Present?  Grace.  Grace to all who don't care about the red and green, the glitter, or Dickens' Christmas Carol.  Grace to all who are busy and frazzled and preoccupied.  Grace to all who aren't living up to my expectations of perfection.  Grace to all who enter here, because these are my people, and I love them.  Grace to all who enter here because God sees my heart, and He knows I don't deserve His gift, either, but He gives it anyway.

In the early morning light, I pound out frustration and impatience and grumbling all over the keyboard, and I resolve to do the Christmas-y things for my own enjoyment, without expectation on anyone else, and not for the perfection of it, but just for the joy.  Because my need to watch A Christmas Carol and see Scrooge transform into the man who keeps Christmas in his heart all the year through runs deep.  Later, long after dark, I invite without expectation and without pressure.

"Um, hey - you don't have to ... it's not an event or anything, but ... I'm just going to watch A Christmas Carol?  The one with Patrick Stewart?  Anybody else want to watch it?"  And glory be ... their eyes light up like they've been waiting days and days for this.  Yes!  they say, and they pause their games and stop the movies and trip down the stairs ... dare I say merrily ... and I realize that in the act of giving grace, the Christmas Spirit arrived in my heart.

God bless us, every one.

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A Fusion of Gratitude

There is a tree on the way to somewhere ... I never quite remember where until Oh!  There it is! It stands tall and majestic in the middle of a vast and wide field.  It is magnificent and tall, branches reaching symmetrically from the trunk, up and out and all around, perfectly spread out like feathers in a tom-turkey's tail.  It stands alone in the field, so stately and beautiful.  It's the kind of tree that the cowboy takes his sweetheart to as he rolls along singing songs of surries.  It's the kind of tree the happy family lays claim to for idyllic family picnics.  I ache to know that everyone else passing by appreciates the solitary beauty of its symmetry.  Is it lonely for people spreading picnic blankets in its shade?  Does it pine for a happy little tire swing and laughing children scrambling up its branches?  Who will love this moment, this tree, this lovely ... if not for me?

I struggle with my Daily Gratitude practice.  It feels cumbersome. I'm thankful for all the good things in my life ... but I stress about doing the list right and saying the right things first.  If I don't put the big things first, does that mean I'm not grateful for those things?  Mightn't getting the order wrong convey I'm not thankful for those blessings?  Also I stress about the "rule" that you can't repeat things.  So I list my family members one by one, sorrowful that I can only list them once.

I get tripped up on the order.  Because that's how you should do it, right?  The most important things first.  So.  Like the child in Sunday School who answers every question with a whispered and reverent "Jesus" no matter how relevant it is, I'm for days feeling like I'm getting it wrong if I don't first state that I'm thankful to be a child of God, and for all the blessings that line up behind that one thing that makes all the difference.

And I struggle with getting the list right.

I know I am numbed to all the every day goodness.  I wade through, intent on listing the next big thing, never minding the small mercies, the singular moments that break your heart with their beauty, that exist seemingly just to be beauty.  Time goes by so fast, my heart longs to recount the days and to hold them close to my heart, to remember them well.  Not the big and significant events ... I'll probably - hopefully? - remember those ... but what about that moment when I was standing in the checkout line at Target on a nondescript Friday afternoon, and the sunsetting light streaming through the windows was so golden and full and bountiful that it burgeoned on the painful side of beauty?  Those are the moments that I want to remember ... those orphaned moments, that don't carry a profound meaning except singular lovely, solitary beauty, pure joy.

I consider this from Geneen Roth:

Sometimes when I look at the flowers in my garden I think: “Wow, if I really let myself take in how gorgeous one of them is, I’m not sure I could even get up off the ground.”
I’m not sure I could move. I’d be so speechless, knocked over by the beauty.
Most of us don’t take it in. And therefore we never feel like we have enough. Because we’re not taking in what we have.
So, taking it in means taking a moment to look and to see. And to actually take it in with your hands. To take it in and let yourself have it.
So take in an orchid for a moment, because it’s a thing of beauty. Do you let yourself have the gorgeousness already in your life? Can you try that for a second? Use your hands. Take it in, and let yourself have it. Just let yourself have beauty because it’s gorgeous.
Let your heart break. You don’t need to be ashamed of it: it’s beauty and it’s gorgeous and you deserve it. And why not?

I go back to her book ... the Ann with no "e" - Ann Voskamp, who spoke out loud the dare to count 1000 things to thank for.  And I'm astounded at the beginning of her list.  Her number one wasn't Jesus.  It was light across old floors.  Ah!  So counting the 1000 things, crafting a gratitude journal isn't listing the things I'm thankful for the in the literal sense.  Always, I am literal ... it trips me up ... it keeps me from flowing.  This gratitude journal can be a marking of the beautiful moments, naming the things I notice that take my breath away.  This is giving meaning and life to the glory streaming in the window of Target.  This is embracing and holding close the beauty of the solitary tree in the field.  This is collecting the beauty of my life and the beautiful moments that crowd around me and are like love notes from a God who provides abundantly, every day anew.

With this dawning, I understand what I knew with my heart but not my head all along ... it isn't the list of obvious things counted and listed in order of importance ... it's a place for the small and seemingly inconsequential things ... the poetic and lyrical moments.  Morning light streaming into the quiet room, streaking gold across the silence ... the quiet, dutiful, comforting tick of the clock ... the sharp hard cold sparkling of the frost on the grass.  I want to recount the inconsequential things that take my breath away in the fast forward motion of my life.  Unremembered, uncelebrated, unmarked moments slide my life right by so very very fast, and the memories and the days and the events flatten out into nothingness.  But deliberately pinned in the tapestry of time, remembered, named, stop-motioned, reviewed ... and life stretches out, wide and vast and resonant.  I remember.

Now I'm counting moments, snapshots of beauty that make me ache and I see what my heart intuitively has known all along - that this counting practice is the answer to what I've always ached for ... a way to capture the beauty of life, to mark the moments and so remember them, encase them in amber glow, to make everyday life gloam and resonate with marked beauties ... they help me remember, they remind me to savor, they call me to thankfulness and fill me with gratitude.

Wishing you the most joyous and thankful of holiday seasons!

Thought Whisperer

The dogs stand on the back porch, and they bark.  

They bark.
And they bark.
And they bark.

I know that if I shush them, shout their names angrily, and demand that they be quiet, they will advance upon whatever lurks there in the gloom beyond the trees, barking all the more, louder and louder in response to my hushing, adamant about a confrontation, intent on making sure everyone within 25 miles knows: something is there.

I also know that if I go out on the porch to them and stand in the chill of the morning and peer into the misty air, the dogs will come to me.  If I go out to them and acknowledge something is there, perhaps even something nefarious, something that doesn't belong - if I just acknowledge it, the dogs will come stand quietly beside me.  If I acknowledge their agitation, and praise them for doing their job and assure them everything is all right, be it a deer, or a coyote, or a wild hog out there in the dark, they will snort indignantly, bristle their hair and emit a quiet "woof" now and again ... but they will quiet.

This is like my mind with the frustrations, the limitations, the injustices, the worries. If I hush and shush my thoughts, they clamor all the more loudly.  But ... if I stand quietly with them, and acknowledge they are there, they will settle.  If I acknowledge the parts of me that are frazzled, overwhelmed, indignant and hurting - and maybe offer a little compassion and care - they quiet.  The frenzied thoughts no longer clamor for my attention.  They've done their job to alert me of a tender place in my heart that needs some gentle care, and they stand quietly with me ready to be directed toward more beneficial paths.

It's taken me a lifetime to learn ... I have to be the thought-whisperer to my own thoughts.

How to Be Late

I think there are two kinds of people in this world:  those who are late and those who aren't.  Some people seem to be born with the ability to run on time, and some of us ... well, we have to learn how.  Having been in the former group most of my life, there's a sizeable build up of guilt that triggers when I'm running late.  I don't know about you, but guilt doesn't bring out my best behavior.  Guilt makes me want to avoid speaking the truth (I'm late), which makes me less likely to be considerate of others (call ahead to say I'm late).

The discussion around punctuality is typically centered around Don't Ever Be Late!  Ideally, standard practice is to be habitually early, but in the (hopefully rare) event that circumstances beyond our control prevent an on time arrival, we need a plan so that the bad behavior of the guilty late-comer doesn't take over as default.

image credit By Sun Ladder via Wikimedia Commons

Our HomeSchool Co-op runs on a clear outline of expectations and procedures.  If you're late, there's a defined process to follow (text Pam!) and clear consequences if you don't follow it (a demerit for being late). As a new HomeSchool Mom, I was super anxious to get it all right, and that dreaded demerit was the spectre in more than one bad dream for me.

The first time we were late for Enrichment classes, I did it my way:  desperately trying to cover my guilt by rushing, completely stressed out, driving too fast, rushing breathlessly into the building, dragging two children by the hand and tongue lashing the other two for moving too slowly.

Then I tried it the other way:  late, desperately in need of a break, calling to confess we would probably arrive a few minutes after the bell.  What I got back was complete grace, and just like that, a topsy-turvy morning was set right by the simple act of taking responsibility met with a gracious response.

What I've come to understand and appreciate is that our co-op rules have provided not only an excellent rehab opportunity for guilty-late me, but also a great chance to teach my kids how to be late.  To be clear, I don't advocate being late - you should make punctuality a habit (I wrote }here{ about how to do that).  But in the event one of your passengers gets carsick, or you get stuck behind a tractor on a country road, or you have to go back to get the class project which adds 20 minutes to your commute, you can still be late responsibly.

Here's how we've learned to handle it when we're running behind schedule:

Call Ahead

Don't stress yourself out for 30 minutes thinking you'll make up time in traffic and arrive on time after all - as soon as you know you'll be late, just call.  It feels  so.  much.  better.  You're exerting a positive on the day that didn't start off so great - now you don't have to drive like a maniac, and you won't get a ticket or have an accident because of careless driving.  You also know that you've been considerate of others and have given them adequate time to cover your spot or use their time differently until you arrive, which feels pretty fantastic and grownup.

When You Arrive

You'll be tempted to rush in like an out of breath hurricane when you reach your destination.  Don't do that.  Rushing only makes you feel more flustered.  Remember:  slow is smooth and smooth is fast.  It's a distraction to have someone rush in all dramatic because they're late.  The transition will go faster and you'll be out of the embarrassing spotlight more quickly if you'll just be calm.  If it's appropriate, apologize to the proper authority for being late, but don't take up time to give excuses or tell your story about the neighbor's buffalo blocking your driveway, even if it is true.  Your goal is to mesh into the activity in progress as seamlessly as possible, and as is so often the case, it isn't all about you anyway :o)  Just enter quickly and quietly and go on about your day.


Even if you're late, you still have power over how it will affect other people and how significantly it impacts your day.  I have to admit being on time is something I'm still learning, and I still backslide on occasion.  But knowing how I'm going to handle it if I'm going to be late makes it significantly less stressful.

Life Lessons from the Roller Coaster

Every year, LtDan's company throws a big party at Six Flags over Texas.  The park is closed to the public and it's a big employee party, so it's not crowded and there are nearly no lines.  Our kids look forward to it every year, as well they should.  It's always in the fall, so the chance of fantastic fall weather is about 50% (it's Texas - we could be freezing cold or sweltering in the heat - you just never know).  This year, the evening was absolutely perfect and everyone had a blast.  Wandering around at Six Flags always makes me nostalgic - for my own trips there as a teen, and then for when the kids were little.  Once I walked in desperate circles looking for our littlest guy Aaron, only to realize I was holding his hand and dragging him along with me.  Ha!  Those days are long gone - no one needs me to hold their hand anymore.

All night long, I looked in awe at the 79° angle plunge of the new Texas Giant roller coaster.  The first drop looked straight down to me.  A straight down plunge from 153 feet.  NO WAY.  No way would I EVER ride that.  But, when faced with compellingly convincing young people who are willing to lie to you and tell you that oh yes, Mom, this is the one you rode last year and you said it was your favorite, it's not time to say no.

So I rode the Texas Giant.

image credit: "SixFlagsTexasGiant" by Loadmaster (David R. Tribble) https://commons.wikimedia.org

The incline ticked up endlessly, and when I could stand it no longer, I shut my eyes tight.  The coming tip over the edge to plummet straight down was just too much to make with my eyes open.  Once that drop was over things didn't slow down, of course: the speed topped out at 65 miles an hour.  Finally, I managed to open my eyes, but with every muscle in my body clenched tight and focused on holding on for dear life.

I fought for presence of mind and told myself to relax, to breathe.  I unclenched my muscles, leaned into it ... and floated.  No, literally - I floated a few inches above the seat to meet the safety bar :o)  But instead of being tense, clenched, and scared, I realized that it was ... lovely.  Like flying.  As we twisted and turned and I kept my eyes open anticipating the turns, it was like flying.  Part of me was thrilled and exhilarated.  When we stopped, I wanted to ride it again, so I could keep my eyes open and lean into it for the whole ride.  Well, okay, everything but that first drop.  I wanted to learn the curves and twists and angles so I could fly again.

It strikes me that my whole life I've handled scary things like this - close the eyes tight, hang on for dear life, and just get through - just hang on until the end.  Then suddenly, the ride is over and frankly, everything is a little vague.

Maybe you've noticed, too, but life is kind of like a roller coaster.  Here comes a breath-taking climb - squeeze your eyes shut just before the perilous drop, and grip the bar with a death grip on the crazy turns.  You feel the twists and turns and maybe take a peek at the scenery streaking by - then suddenly it's done and you realize well really, that was kind of fun now that you got through it.

The lesson of the roller coaster is that you can ride with your eyes closed and your hands clenched on the safety bar, but it all goes by in a blur.  If you want to really experience the whole thrill of it, relax.  Relax, just lean in, and keep your eyes open.

We walked through the park toward the exit, everyone talking excitedly about their favorite ride and their favorite thrills.  But I was thinking about applying the roller coaster lesson to real life.  When the big scary things come along - change, for instance - what if instead of tensing up and closing my eyes, what if I lean into what I fear?  What if I just relax?  Could it be that I'll make it to the end and remember the thrill and the exhilaration all the more - and maybe carry the lessons to be learned a little closer to the heart?  Maybe leaning in and keeping my eyes open will make it not so scary.

I won't be riding any roller coasters again for a while, but meanwhile, I'll practice keeping my eyes open in real life.  Even when it's scary.