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...

Little Blessings

When M was 5 weeks old, I ventured out to the new moms' group at the Hospital. I do not remember much about the first few weeks of his life, but I distinctly remember pulling myself together to go to this Wednesday morning "group" for the simple reason of giving myself something to do and to get me out of Target.

Those days a trip out of the house required more gear than I believed possible for someone who weighed under 10 lbs, but off we went - giant stroller, boppy, several back up bottles, breast pump, three changes of clothes for both of us, me, and a baby. And I often had to return 2-3 times in those days to retrieve some important item I'd forgotten.

I arrived at the hospital annex on time, of course (you don't spend 10+ years in fundraising without arriving everywhere on time - it's an occupational hazard), and there was another new mom sitting in the foyer of the meeting room.  I don't remember much about that day.  However, I do remember that her daughter was sleeping peacefully in her car seat, while mine was checking out his surroundings with big open eyes. That and she was wearing stripes. 

Writing about those first moments today makes me want to laugh out loud at how odd it sounds, but that moms' group taught me about motherhood in a way I cannot explain.  Those women were my sanity.  The provided a place to celebrate mundane trials of solutions to diaper blow outs and new foods and crawling and walking and talking.  The milestones on the charts and books and websites were nothing.  It was REAL moms going through things in REAL time that mattered. They were my life raft in waters I did not know how to navigate. 

 

I frankly expected that from a group such as that one.  I knew we'd share stories that only new moms can share with one another.  What I did not expect was that so many of them would still be such a gift three years later.  That we are part of watching each others children grow.  That we would be celebrating new siblings and work successes and new homes and new challenges. 

I have no idea if we will still be part of one another's lives once our children begin to make their own decisions about who to play with, but I will be forever grateful to the women I met on the floor of the hospital out building. 

That's the thing about friendships.  You never know where it will arrive or where it will grow.  Just for today, I will consider these women, and the others I have been lucky enough to meet the past three years, one of the greatest blessings of motherhood.

Don't Put the Key to Your Happiness in Someone Else's Pocket

"And she always feels things so deeply"

- Liane Moriarty

Have you ever read a line in a book and had it just stick with you - like having the wind knocked out of you?  Or like the gum on the bottom of your shoe that won't come off? 

When I read that line in What Alice Forgot, I thought - that's me.  I finally know what "too sensitive" on report cards really meant.  Or what my boss said at summer camp in college when she had me wear "Extra Emotional Erin" on a button for the last week of camp.

I feel things to the tips of my toes - the good, the bad and the ugly.  When someone is in a bad mood or a good one, I am there right along with them.  Feeling their highs and their lows.  Another word is co-dependence, but that's a conversation for another day.

In my childhood it was NOT a good quality.  It made me the perfect person to pick on for the mean girls as a tween.  I am sure if you knew me at that time, you'd have more than one story to share.  But as an adult it often serves me well.  I read rooms well and can sense what someone needs often before they do. 

I have been thinking about that a lot lately.  As I navigate the challenges of adulthood and life long commitments, as opposed to childhood transience, I think about being too sensitive to other people's moods and feelings.  It makes it difficult to be OK with Just who I am when I am constantly worried about everything else around me.  It also makes it difficult to be 100% happy when I am so focused on others' feelings.

So now I pause and try to stay in my own little space on the chess board.  For practice, I'm testing out a new mantra...

 

"Don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket"

 

xo friends...



Two Roads Diverged in a Wood...

 

 

 

I believe in good intentions. That most people are doing the best job that they know how to do at any given time.

I believe in forgiveness.  That the more we are able to forgive others, the more likely we are to stop the pain ourselves.

I believe in hope. That it is the ONE irrepressible power we have against darkness.

I believe in perspective. That sometimes you have to jump up on the table and say "Oh Captain, my Captain" and see the world from a different place.

I believe in the power of a good story.  That getting lost in a book and imaging that world provides a step back from our current problems and allows them to cool.

I believe in exercise and sleep.  That they are critical to a happy life and provide a mental boost essential to growth and healing.

I believe that the days are long, but the years are short.  That change comes at an excruciatingly painful set of moments, but that when we look back on time the year has flown by in the space of a heartbeat.

I believe in failure and loss.  They are the things that make us stronger, more resilient, and in the long run provide greater success.

The first few are easy enough.  They are about looking for the good, taking action, and moving.  I have a very hard hard time with the last two. 

This week I had a major disappointment.  I intellectually understand it and know exactly why it happened and what my part was/is in the story.  But it stung just the same.  I gave myself 24 hours to sulk about what had occurred.  And in that time, I thought of those other moments - losing an election in College or being passed over for a job or ending a relationship that just wasn't working.  It felt VERY YUCKY.

I sat down on the sofa after M's bedtime still feeling grumpy, but my 24 hours were just about up.  You see, I do not believe that everything happens for a reason. I think the world, and human power, is much to complex for that simplification.  Just the same... something very miraculous happened yesterday just before bedtime.  I had this moment of realization, it was one of those extraordinary every day moments that took my breath away.  I looked at a picture of M on my way to bed and I remembered --

That in the end, I was grateful for those failures. 

That in the end, my life was better because I was forced down a different path.

That what I have right now, is exactly what I have always wanted and I would not be here if it weren't for my wandering in a new direction.  

xo friends

Is that a good idea or a bad idea?

 

When John and I were looking at homes four years ago we were in search of a good lot with a good size home in a nice neighborhood with good schools.  In July of 2009, we closed on just that.  We LOVE LOVE LOVE our house and our neighborhood.  It's in a beautiful planned community with walking paths and real trees and wonderful neighbors.
 
One of the things we didn't consider, or at least I didn't, was what that kind of neighborhood meant in terms of STUFF and labels and keeping up with the neighbors.  I don't find our immediate neighbors very competitive, but I watch the local teenagers with new cars and labels on their arms and I know what's coming. 

I grew up in a beautiful neighborhood much like this one.  My first introduction to labels came at 11.  When Harry Potter was learning about Hogwarts, I was learning about Champion and Keds and Z Cavaricci (you may have to have grown up in NJ to know about the last one). 
 
The NEED for stuff traveled with me to college in Milwaukee where the labels were different, but consumption became a larger part of my life with the freedom that comes from your own credit card. (Why 18 year-olds who do not even know how to balance a check book should NOT be given credit cards is a whole other blog post!)  By the time I was finished with college, I had racked up $10,000 in debt trying to keep up.  That pattern persisted for years and the need to have what everyone else had, or to fill a need I thought was there with STUFF got me in lots of trouble. 
 
Over the past year or so, I have begun to shift my thinking about consumption and consumer need.  I don't want to live in a way that purchasing items is more important than real moments.  I don't want M to live that way.  We do not need to walk out of Target with $100 worth of STUFF every time we go in there. 
 

 
But it is so hard.  We are inundated by emails and Facebook ads and reminders of those items we MUST HAVE all day long. And that is before being invited to the at home purse/ chef/ clothing/ jewelry parties or seeing the new must have toy at the park. 

I've realized, since beginning to become a conscious consumer, that it is not about avoiding these messages.  It's about shifting my thinking about them.  I need to pay attention and work to change every day.  Sometimes every hour.  And sometimes every minute.  My choices need to be just that - choices. 
 
I ask M when he is about to jump off a table or climb the pantry shelves - "Is that a good idea or a bad idea?".  (He typically answers "good idea", but again - another post.) For the first time, I am now asking myself the same question when faced with consumer choices.  It feels strange, but good.  
 
xo friends...

No one will ever know the strength of my love for you

"No one will ever know the strength of my love for you. 

After all, you're the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside."

Mother's Day began in 1908.  It became an official US holiday in 1914 and by the 1920's its founder, Anna Jarvis, was already disappointed in its commercialism.  I wonder what she would think if she looked around today.  I wonder if the excessive sales and beribboned cars and abundance of flowers would sadden her to no end.  When I picture Anna Jarvis holding a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia on the first Mother's Day, I do not think the world felt even close to what it feels like today. 

I will confess that on my first mother's day, I felt like a fraud.  This day was about MY mom, mother-in-law, amazing sisters-in-law, and grandmothers - not about me. I felt as if I had not earned my mother stripes - even after 24 hours of labor and 10 months of babyhood.

Michael and me - May 2011

Two years later and this mother's day is quite different for me.  I finally feel like I've earned a seat at the worldwide table of mothers.  And I have been thinking a lot about the TRUE meaning of this day.  So I will pause to remember three special ladies as we approach Sunday.

First, I think of Sally Raba.  I have never met Sally, but I have the honor of knowing her beautiful daughter Molly and delightful grandson Nicholas.  For the past two years, I have run with her family in the Race for Hope in memory and honor of those suffering from brain tumors.  Throughout the race I was touched by those who are fighting the good fight and reminded of the blessing of health, love and friendship.  From what Molly has shared, Sally would have appreciated those lessons.

Molly Bahn and me at the Race for Hope 2013

Second, I think of Lois Hutton.  I was fortunate enough to meet Lois a handful of times as I got to know her daughter, Pam Nelson.  Pam has shared with me the lessons Lois taught her and has in turn made me a better mother, wife and friend.  Lois will never know the impact her love has through her daughter, but I am forever grateful. We will run to celebrate Lois, and Pam's grandmother, in the National Ovarian Cancer Run/Walk on Saturday, May 18th.

The Nelson Family

And third, I think of Nancy Carey, my brother-in-law's mom.  Nancy was laid to rest yesterday in a very touching service.  I took with me many things from the day, but particularly how much her husband and sons love her.  She was a shining example of putting your family first.  My heart breaks for Kevin, his brother, and dad.  I am grateful for the example Nancy set and for the young man she raised.  I love how much he loves my sister and the life they have created together.  She was the kind of mother I hope, in many ways, to be.  

Kevin and Meg Carey

As we pause for a moment, commercially or otherwise, to celebrate the women who love us in a way that we, as children, will never fully understand, I think of these women and honor them. 

I am also grateful beyond measure for my mother, Karen Crotty, and her enormous heart.  It was not until I had Michael that I fully got it.  I fully realized why she did some of the things she did.  I knew why she loved me so much as an introverted little girl and a defiant teenager.  I knew why she would drive 4.5 hours just to spend some time with me.  And I am so grateful for her, words are not enough. 

Happy Mother's Day to you.   
xo friends

 

Namaste -- The God in me sees the God in You

As MJT gets older and starts to grasp more concepts, I think a lot about the lessons I want to make certain we teach him.  When I was pregnant, and reading every parenting book I could find, I read something about the critical importance of teaching our children humility.  The author argued that we often want to teach our children confidence, but what really makes a successful person is humility.  I don't remember liking the rest of the book, but I did hold on to that line.  And I think about it often.  I've developed my version of that wish.

The lesson I hope to teach M is comfort in his own skin....

The knowledge that he has his own moral compass. 

That he is wonderful just as he is right now.

That his favorite color can be different from everyone else's.

That if he likes the guitar and everyone else is into skateboarding, play the guitar. 

That it doesn't matter what the kid with the cool bike or car or stereo says or what they want to do.  It matters what HE wants to do.

That there is only one MJT and whomever that person becomes, he is good enough for us and we love him. 

And with that comfort, that he can see the good in others.  And treat those who are different with respect and dignity.  And perhaps be that voice that says, that's not OK to watch when others are being hurt.  Because at the end of the day, it won't matter what the mean guys think of you - M will know the joy of knowing who he is.

...

Part of passing on that lesson, is finding comfort in my own skin.  At 37 I am much closer than was at 36.  And so I practice...  Namaste to you today.  The God in me sees the God in you.  And I love you, just as you are.

xo friends.
 

Nerd Girl Problem: Having to put down a great book...

I can TOTALLY relate to this...

One of the things I am most grateful to my parents for is the love of reading they instilled in us.  As I have shared with my husband over the years, there were afternoons on vacation where we would all be one room reading and the only sound would be the turning of pages.  To this day, we are all avid readers. 

I wanted to share two books that have come across my kindle recently.  (Point of information - I say kindle, as I do use it for reading, but my preference will ALWAYS be paper books!)  Even if you are not a working parent or a parent, these are AWESOME books.  I have a whole list of parenting books I love.  Comment below and I will happily send you my list. 

I hate when reviews use last names, as I always think I know an author well enough after reading their book that we are now friends. So, please do not think I am being disrespectful, quite the opposite.

Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg

This is THE business book to be discussing right now.  If you haven't at least checked it out on Wikipedia, you should.  I promise that you will seem much smarter in your next meeting. :o)  

Sheryl is a great writer and has had an amazing career.  I LOVED the first half.  I was facinated by her rise through the tech ranks at Facebook and Google, her tenacity and thoughtful approach.  I loved the stories about the beginnings of Facebook.  And I felt like I took away some great tips for shifting the way I approached my career. 

The second half felt like a mixture of repitition and condicention.  She talks a lot about managing family and work.  It's helpful, but I could not relate.  She has the financial means to hire help and pay for the best.  Not all of us have that experience.  I think it detracted from her message. 

Carry on Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton

 

If you have not been to Momastary.com - go.  Stop reading this right now and click on the link.  Please come back when you are done, but I will warn you reading her posts might just drain your afternoon.  Glennon is amazing.  Her story is remarkable and her message is even better - Be YOU.  Be a truth teller and a hope spreader. 

Her book is really a collection of her blogs with some other information woven throughout.  I have read other bloggers books, but this one just struck me.  Perhaps it is her candor or honesty or the fact that her love just jumps off the page. 

The bottom line - I like this book because I felt like I could go back in at any moment and feel better when I put the book down.

My favorite reading buddy is my beautiful sister.  She has wonderful recommendations for all kinds of books.  I just love how smart she is and I would argue that reading just enhances her thoughtful brain. 

That is us, above, after going to the bookstore at midnight and staying up all night to read Harry Potter 7.  NO, we did not dress up, but we thought about it.   

Books are amazing.  They transport us to another world.  They give us wonderful topics of discussion and a chance to imagine a world beyond our own walls.

Happy reading, friends.
xo

Turning Forward

My theme this week seems to be change.  And here's why...

On Monday, the tragedy in Boston unfolded and I was instantly transported to the summer of 2000 and walking those very streets during my career-path changing internship at Boston University.  And I realized that was almost thirteen years ago...

On Thursday and Friday, we held our spring company meeting in Morristown, New Jersey.  The hotel's gym was outside the hotel proper, but right next to the Headquarters Plaza movie theater.  I laughed to a colleague about a couple of really bad dates right upstairs in those seats as we puffed away on elliptical machines.  And I realized that was almost 23 years ago...

On Monday, I was added to a class page for my high school reunion next summer.  Since I zoomed out of town in 1994, high school has been very distant from my day to day life.  I keep up with a good number of my classmates via Facebook so I don't feel an intense need to find out what is happening by attending, however it brought me back to the halls of MTHS pretty quickly.  And I realized that was almost 20 years ago...

And in the past few months, I have been thinking a lot about getting "back" to the pre-baby me.  Getting my figure back.  Remembering who I was before a child and a mortgage and wrinkles and a REAL job. 

And I realized something else....

That person is gone and never to be found again.  The girl who interned at BU and went on those bad dates and sang in the high school choir is not the me sitting in my pretty blue office next to my little boy's bedroom. 

I have found that there are lots of changes happening for all of us every day - incremental and huge.  Painful and simple.  Wished for and despised.  Self-imposed and thrown at us with force. 

Sometimes they really hurt.  But in the end, I believe they are good.  Who we are now is to be celebrated - frown lines and all.  Change is part of embracing life and parenthood and love and growth.  Finding acceptance in change is one of the most difficult things we can do. 

My brother is amazing to watch when it comes to change.  I will never forget his College graduation.  I kept looking for a wistful sign or a note of sadness, but he didn't show them.  I asked him later why and he told me, effectively, that he was done and ready to move on to the next thing.  He had a great run and it was time to go. 

I think about that when I find myself holding on too tightly. 

One of my challenges is to embrace the moment and I cannot possibly do that with my head turned to what is behind me.

xo friends...