This is Water

 

A couple of months ago this way too long video was circulating around my Facebook feed about water. I ignored it at first, but after it was reposted by several friends I like and admire, I watched it and have gone back to it several times.  If you haven't watched it, it's worth your ten minutes.  The part that stood out to me came from the graduation speech that inspired the video:

 

The really important kind of freedom involves attention and awareness and discipline, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them over and over in myriad petty, unsexy ways every day.

 

That is real freedom. That is being educated, and understanding how to think. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the rat race, the constant gnawing sense of having had, and lost, some infinite thing.

 

I know that this stuff probably doesn’t sound fun and breezy or grandly inspirational the way a commencement speech is supposed to sound. What it is, as far as I can see, is the capital-T Truth, with a whole lot of rhetorical niceties stripped away. You are, of course, free to think of it whatever you wish. But please don’t just dismiss it as just some finger-wagging Dr. Laura sermon. None of this stuff is really about morality or religion or dogma or big fancy questions of life after death.

 

The capital-T Truth is about life BEFORE death.

 

It is about the real value of a real education, which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with simple awareness; awareness of what is so real and essential, so hidden in plain sight all around us, all the time, that we have to keep reminding ourselves over and over:

 

“This is water.”

 

“This is water.”

I keep coming back to these words because I realize at times that I am missing things as I go about my day to day.  I am watching life and not stepping in to be a PART of life.

You see, it has come to my attention over the past few weeks/ months that I am no longer a young adult trying to figure it all out and managing invented crisis upon crisis.  I am an actual adult with real responsibilities and realities and wrinkles.  What I've noticed...

1. I have two gray hairs in the front left side of my head that are actual gray hairs.  Not just blond ones that look different in another light.

2. Recently I've found that I am being called ma'am a lot more often than miss.

3. I do not understand WHY ON EARTH anyone would ever twerk on TV. The appeal of the whole VMA performance is lost on me. 

4. My friends now have real challenges. Aging parents. Children with VERY scary illnesses. Divorce.  REAL stuff that has real, powerful consequences.

The list goes on and on, but all signs point to a new place for me in the world. For some people that epiphany happened well before 37. For me, that understanding is unfolding right now.  So here I am.  For those who beat me to it, thank you for being patient with my smart-ass self all these years. 

While I tentatively march forward into true adulthood, I am going to try to choose awareness of what is around me.  That means there are some things that have to change and it's OK.  Some are out of my control (gray hair, Miley Cyrus) and some are not.  I have had the blessing of a real education thrust upon me.  I can choose to care and be the best version of me I can be or I can follow another one of the myriad of paths in front of me.  I have a choice.

This is water. 

xo friends...
E

A year from now you may wish you had started today...

"A year from now you may wish you had started today"

 
I think of that phrase often when faced with something seemingly impossible or overwhelming or beyond my typical comfort zone.  In the fall I find the idea of that statement even more powerful.  For me it is the season of new beginnings.  Forget those midnight resolutions and give me new papers, pencils, and books. 

I keep a one sentence journal and last September these were my big questions.
 

Can I really run another half-marathon after such a long break from real running?

 

Are my work goals truly attainable?

 

Is this what being a grown up is all about?

 

Will parenting ever get easier? 

 

As I look back at September of 2012 I cannot believe how far I have come in so many ways.

 
Running is better.
That half marathon I couldn't even fathom in September of 2012?  On the docket for this Saturday. And I am excited and ready.  Last September - I started training again with a 5k after taking an almost 3 year break and if you had suggested a half, I might have just walked away.
 

 
 
Work is better.
Because I spoke up and made a commitment to make MY goals work, not let anyone else dictate what success meant for me.  Last September - I was crying almost every day and feeling like a failure each time I powered down my laptop.  Today, I feel like I am actually making REAL progress.
 

 
 
Home is better.
Because I have stopped trying to live someone else's life.  We are now living our lives.  And we are actually HAPPY again.  We are still in the toddler blur, but it's our blur. And I am grateful.  Last September - I wasn't so sure any more about who we were or how we got here.  But here we are.  And I love my little family more than I could have ever imagined.

 
M is better.
Well - he was always pretty great.  But I didn't know how to be a mom all the time.  This is a BIG learning process.  And for me, no matter how many books I read or blogs I followed I had to start to understand M was going to be who he was.  And it was my job to be his mom - not the imaginary child in a book.  Last September - I kept trying to fit him into the right slot. 

So my biggest lesson... Live my life - not someone else's. 

I have no idea what day I shifted my thinking last September, but I am SO grateful that a year ago the idea of change took hold.  And I am beyond grateful I was able to seek out the help and resources (big and small) to make the changes I needed a reality. 

Now it's time for some new ideas... I'll let you know what they are when I figure them out.

xo friends...

I must be one of the wonders...

There is an emotional energy at the starting line of a long race.  I find that at that moment, I do not want to talk or stretch or anticipate the miles to follow - I just want to be part of all the hope that comes with being a runner. 

Back in my 9-10 minute mile group I watch the elite runners move their way forward, new racers look around wondering how they arrived here, and friends move off to the sidelines as they wish their marathoners and half marathoners well.

I was surprised to find myself feeling that same swell of emotion at the Leesburg 20k this weekend.  I was treating it as a training run for my September half marathon.  But there it was... That intense feeling of - WOW.  Not everyone can do this. We committed to a plan and here we are - ready or not, off we go.

And miles 1-5 were MISERABLE. 

 

I was hating myself for doing this. 

 

Cursing my friend who invited me to do the half with her. 

 

Thinking mean and terrible thoughts about my fellow runners.

And then I heard this song and saw this bridge and my whole race changed.

I remembered WHY I've started running again.  It's about fitness and health and doing something challenging that's just for me.  But it's also about the promise I made to the Hole in the Wall Gang Camp to do a race a month to help kids find a different kind of healing from cancer and other illnesses. 

It's amazing what a little inspiration can do for a long, solitary run with 1,000 of my closest running friends.  I not only finished with negative splits, but I smiled for the last mile and raced a guy 10 years younger than me to a photo finish.

 

 

I am very proud of finishing this race, but I am most proud of the inspiration behind it.  Being a part of Team Hole in the Wall gives me the opportunity to help change the lives of very sick children.  It gives them a chance to be kids again.  I hope you will consider supporting this effort with a gift today by clicking here.

Thank you and lots of love...
xo

A Very Merry Unbirthday to Me

Today is my half-birthday. I've always liked that my half-birthday is on August 13 and comes as summer is winding down.  In my world, it has always been a quiet time of year.  Life is slower, there is less on the calendar, and it is a time for new beginnings - clean notebooks, new school shoes, all that jazz. 

I am not one for New Year's resolutions, but as I quietly celebrate 37 1/2 with a cup of coffee as M plays in his playroom, these are my internal "to do's" for the moment...

I will not purchase anything I do not LOVE.  As I work to recallibrate my shopping habit, this one is big. Shopping for things I LOVE is a much different experience than shopping to fill a void or become someone else or meet a new status level.

I will no longer wear things that are uncomfortable for the sake of a trend created by a 20-something fashion editor in NYC.  This includes, but is not limited to, tops that are too tight, undergarments that are uncomfortable, and skinny jeans that do not properly fit my post-baby body.  

I will embrace my sensitive nature instead of trying so hard to pretend I don't feel things as deeply as I do.  Does that mean I have to react to EVERYONE and EVERYTHING?  No.  But after 37 1/2 years of being "too sensitive" I have decided that is who I am and I no longer need to worry about the comments section of an imaginary report card.

I will work to be OK with my kind of mothering.  I do not need to have elaborate plans for our days or busy boxes and books or the perfect age appropriate crafts.  I read another post this morning about how we can make our children's lives magical and I was so proud of all of the things I DO to make M's childhood special.  I am going to hold on to that feeling.

And I will stop being in charge of other people's emotions.  If my husband or friends or family have a bad day it is not my fault.  I only make it worse by trying to take over their feelings.  Today, I will give them the space to be who they are and believe that they love me unless they tell me otherwise.

A very merry unbirthday to me... and you... and you and you and you!

xo friends... 

Accidental Blessings

When I first got pregnant I thought there was NO WAY I was going back to work.  I spent 9 months telling myself "you never have to sit through a meeting like that again"... "you never have to put on another suit"... "this is  your LAST train ride and crappy Hertz car"...

My "Professional" Headshot

 

You see, I did not choose my profession.  I am a fundraising consultant 100% by accident. I have friends who knew they wanted to be doctors or teachers or journalists from the age of four.  Not me.  I tried on lots of hats throughout high school and college and my 20s.  All with tremendous external conviction.  I was going to be a journalist, a PR maven, an event planner, a student affairs professional...

Anything that let me be creative and in charge.

 

Oh - and I wanted to change the world. :o)

I knew what I wanted to DO but I had no idea what I wanted to BE.  

Somewhere between 18 and 34, I ended up falling in love with my profession and I didn't even know it. When faced with the choice of going back to work or staying home, I went back to work.  I am VERY VERY lucky - I work from home, set my own schedule, and have bosses who have profound and deep respect for family.  My job is in no way perfect, but in many ways it meets every element of my wish list.  I am creative and in charge and I help people.  Not every day, but most of the time.

 

Do I feel guilty?  Of course.  When I don't always know what M ate for lunch or exactly where the bruise on his knee came from or where he learned that song, I momentarily feel like I failed as a mother.  But I remember that he has caregivers who LOVE him.  And he gets to form relationships with Miss Sue, Miss Elissa and Miss Sara.  His world becomes larger and, just like all of us, when he is loved - his capacity to love others grows.

At Miss Elissa's Wedding

Right now it's 8:15 at night and I am on a train home from an afternoon of meetings in NYC. I left my house at 7am, just as M was waking up.  I said good morning and got in my car to get to Union Station. But tomorrow, I will be there for wake up and hugs and kisses and bedtime.  

I don't have a huge profound point this evening.  As I looked at the window of the train, I was counting my blessings.  For me, one of them is this: I am grateful that I have the opportunity to love my accidental happiness as much as the happily ever I planned for...

xo friends... 

ENOUGH of this Nonsense

When you look at this picture,

what do you see?

I am almost positive, you will say all good things.  You might tell me that you are proud of me or that it looked very hot out.  No idea exactly what jumps to mind for you, but I am guessing you do not see the things I do.

When I look at this picture, I find every flaw.  I see my red face and sweaty hair and too big thighs, and inappropriate race cleavage.  

When I look at this picture, I immediately miss the fact that my dear friend and I had an awesome race.  We made great time on a hilly course and got to chat without interruption.  I even won free shoes at the festival afterwards.

I have been thinking about this picture a lot since I downloaded it from Sunday's race site.  I stopped myself thinking these mean thoughts on my run this morning and thought, "why do you do that?".

Is it so that I get the dig in on my appearance before anyone else has a chance?

 

Is it that I still hear the voices of the mean girls in Jr. high and high school picking on my clothes or bad perm or lack of trendy fashion?

 

Is it because I always see the bad before the good when it comes to myself?

 

Is it just realism and I need to accept it?

Whatever the reason, it's not OK.  It is not OK to be so hard on ourselves that we miss out on life. 

There are maybe 3 pictures of me with M from his first year of life.  There are about 1,500 pictures of him and many with John, but very few of me.  I was so ashamed of how I looked that I didn't want any photos taken.  And if they were, I had the good sense to delete them immediately.  But now my adorable son doesn't have tangible reminders of how very much he was loved that first year.  And there is something so sad about that.

We are not airbrushed models.  We are real moms and dads and friends doing real things.  We are children of God doing the best we can.

ENOUGH of this nonsense.

Just enough. 

xo friends...

There is ALWAYS a Solution

I spend my working mom hours as a fundraising consultant.  As a fifteen year veteran of the industry, I have seen almost everything there is to see in fundraising. 

Often we are brought in as consultants because clients are stuck and cannot see past their own way of doing things.  At many places there is only one route from here to there and that is how it has been done for decades. 

When clients are feeling stuck and down and overwhelmed - I share my favorite phrase:

 

"There is always a solution."

When I first began using it my reason was to create a pause in the conversation and redirect the discussion.  Over the years it has become the phrase I go back to when either a client or I cannot seem to get out of our own way to find a route to solve a problem.

Another way to think about it was in my Pinterest feed a week or so ago: 

If you don't like where you are, then change it.  You are not a tree.

It is funny to me how much work and home can bleed together.  This "work" phrase has slowly become a very strong mantra for me. 

Over the years, as I have battled with depression and anxiety, I have found this simple concept to be the most helpful in seeing out from the deep well of sadness.  There are millions of phrases and mantras and advice for those dealing with mental health issues.  Countless plans and therapists and books and well meaning friends who tell you EXACTLY what will make you better.  OR make you feel like this is not "real" and you just need to pick yourself up by your bootstraps and GET OVER IT.

But when you are THAT low, there is no moving or changing or hope. 

When you feel that disconnected, a plan that stretches for months seems just to big to grapple with.

When you are that lonely, there is no one who understands your pain.

For me, once I was able to find word or a phrase or a sliver of light, there was a path to hope. 

I happen to love the idea of solutions because the deep power of internal darkness causes you to see only the sadness.  Solution based thinking allows small steps toward change and happiness. 

For me, the solution was small: just for today, I will find the good in front of me.

And it grew: just for today, I will tell my story honestly to those around me and not worry so much about being judged.

And grew: just for today, I will embrace my running shoes as friends and set a goal - a BIG one.

And grew: just for today, I will love my husband and son with my whole heart.  I will actually rely on them.  I will be present. 

And here I am.  I feel stronger and better and full of light again.  I know my old friend depression may resurface at any moment.  But I also know there is always a solution.

xo friends...