I remember

I remember being a young girl and walking down my street with my friend, holding hands the whole time.  I have no idea how old I was, but I remember that we would always hold hands when we were walking together.  It wasn't just one friend, although I don't have many specific memories, but I remember holding hands with friends was just something that we did.  I also remember when it stopped.

One day, I was walking with one of my friends, who was a year older than me, across the street from my house.  We were close to the corner house on the opposite side of the street.  I remember exactly where we were.  I reached for her hand and she pushed my hand away.  I didn't understand.  I looked at her and she said something like "we don't do that". 

It had happened.  She had become aware of how holding hands looked to other people and it made her uncomfortable.  She didn't want to hold my hand anymore.  I felt sad, but somehow I understood.  I never reached for a friend's hand after that.

Fast forward to present day... I'm almost 41 now and I'm holding hands with friends again.  Who the fuck cares what other people think.  It's sad to think of what we give up as we are growing up because of all the fears of what others think, how others judge...  but it's never too late.  Hug a friend today.  Hold someone's hand and walk in public.  Life's too short.

Grace and forgiveness

It's what I give myself every single day now, several times a day.

Did I act selfishly?  Did I forget something?  Did I "do it wrong?" Could I have done that differently or better?

It doesn't really matter what the answer is to these questions.  If the answer is "yes", I give myself grace.  If it's "no", I give myself grace for being unsure and needing to double check.

Parenting is a real challenge, relationships can be difficult and communication skills are definitely not something that everyone has, so I give myself grace and forgiveness.  It helps me move on from one situation to another without having to dwell on what I might have done differently.  It gives me the chance to do it differently.  It makes me stronger.

When you pick on yourself for doing it "wrong", you tear yourself down.  It takes strength to improve and make changes.  Give yourself grace and forgiveness and give those around you a gift that they will cherish - a stronger, better you.

I wonder how everyone else does it...

Have you ever wondered how everyone else does it?  I mean, sometimes it seems that I have just enough time to do the laundry and the dishes on the weekends after working full-time, running the kids around, Dr. and dentist appointments, homework, balancing the checkbook, paying bills, exercise, grocery shopping, making phone calls... and God knows what else...

I find myself wondering "How does everyone else do it?"  How do people with three kids (or more!)do it when I only have two?  How do single parent households do it?  How do people who appear to be so-much-more-put-together do it?

I just can't get my head around it.  Right when I think things are running so smoothly - the trash is emptied, the floor is clean, the dishes are put away, and clothes are actually hanging in the rooms they belong in - I realize... CRAP... there's pink stuff growing in the toilet.  When was the last time I cleaned that toilet?  And then I look outside and see weeds all over the backyard hillside... CRAP... how long have THOSE been there?

The dogs need shots, and they need to be groomed, the car needs a smog check, my son needs a bigger bed, my daughter needs new jeans (didn't we just buy some?), the air conditioning needs to be serviced, the oranges on the neighbor's tree need to be picked if we want to enjoy them, my ipod earphones need to be replaced...  The list goes on and on...

And I just wonder...

How does everyone else do it?  And is there an easier way?

I'm just wonderin'...  I would love to know...One day...

What's in your backpack?

So, we each have a backpack.  Some of us choose a very elaborate, decorated backpack.  Some of us choose a very plain, solid colored backpack.  Some backpacks are large with very little content.  Some are small and ripping at the seams from being stuffed so full.  It’s really not important what size the backpack is, its color, its many pockets, buckles, strings, and zippers.  Each backpack holds inside of it some clues as to who we are.  These clues are little pieces of information about our life as we have lived it thus far.  In one backpack, there may be a memory of the loss of a parent; in another, a painful divorce.  Perhaps there’s a memory of the best vacation ever or of a passion-filled romantic experience.  There are names and places and people stuffed into these backpacks.  There are copies of documents such as medical reports, marriage licenses, divorce decrees, homeownership, birth certificates for ourselves and our children, lay-off notices, job promotions, bankruptcy filings, foreclosure notices, high school diplomas and college degrees - just to name a few.  We often carry our backpacks with us everywhere we go.  Sometimes we leave them unzipped so that others can view the contents.  We do this both purposefully and mistakenly.  We may be saying, “See who I am?”  “See what I’ve done?” and looking for acceptance for who we are and where we’ve been.  Some of us like to leave them zipped tight and constantly try to camouflage their size and weight.  We do this because we don’t trust others viewing what’s inside.  We don’t want to be judged by our past, especially the negative experiences.  Either way, the backpack is always there and everyone has one and everyone has their own personal way of dealing with what’s inside it.  I find myself in a place where I feel that I want to take my backpack off my shoulders and have it sit beside me.  I look at its size and shape and all of its pockets.  I see all of its zippers and how it’s been well worn and faded and how it so nicely protects what I keep inside.  I unzip the top and an “insufficient funds” notice from my bank pops out and lands on the ground in front of me.  I smile.  Ah, yes… one of those.  On a different day, maybe I would have rushed to crumple it up and stuff it back in the backpack.  I mean, that’s not something that I want others to see.   What would they think of me?  Would they decide that I can’t control my finances?  I can’t control my spending?  I’m not smart enough to keep track of the money in my checking account?  But in this place, this very wonderful place that I’m in, I see that my backpack is separate from me.  Sure, it contains clues about me.  Many of them would lead someone right to me, but many of them are just things that happened along the way, along my journey.  If you really want to see me, you would have to look past my backpack and into my eyes and breathe me in.  You also, would need to set your backpack to the side because I could not join you with it in the way.  You could not see me if I did not let you.  And in doing so I would see you as well.  This is connection.  This is where we put all of our judgments and stereotypes aside.  This is where thoughts do not form complete sentences.  They are reduced down to single word affirmations, like “Oh”, “Ah”, “Yes” and “Wow”.  And then the acknowledgements of “I see”, “I get it”, “I know”.

Where in the heck did I put that?

Have you ever gone looking for something like your sunglasses, only to find that they were on the top of your head tucked behind your ears?  Or maybe you went looking for your cell phone while you were leaving the house, only to realize that you were on it, so that's why you couldn't find it?

It's funny, because I have this sense, like my sunglasses being on my head (or maybe I'm even wearing them), that whatever it is I'm looking for is right here, on me, in me, with me, available to me if I would just pay a little bit more attention.

I have this feeling that something is missing, but once I find it I'm going to realize that it's been here all along.  Something that I've spent tons of time looking for...convincing myself that I have no idea where it is so I must keep looking.  And in looking for it, I've distracted myself so much so, that I don't even see it when I look in the mirror.  Like my glasses on top of my head... my focus is elsewhere on my reflection so I don't notice that they are RIGHT THERE.

I suppose that's why we need to always check in with other people and tell them what we're searching for... so they can help us see what we cannot.  That's what friends are for...to help us out of our head's a bit...and maybe even laugh about it.

Sexting?

I had an interesting conversation with my hairdresser recently.  I was talking about how my husband was out of town and how I had texted him several pictures and notes about what we (the kids and I) were doing throughout the day.  I found it interesting that the texts he responded to did not have to do with me.  I sent him pictures of my run, pictures of me with my friends, pictures of the trail and a picture of the leg of one of the men I was running with.  He fell on the trail and got all banged up.  This was the picture that my husband responded to... "Is he OK?" Hmmm...  Yeah, he's OK.

I sent him play-by-plays of my son's football game and a couple of sweet notes "from me to him"... He responded to the football game texts... his response was directly to my son. On my phone. Hmmm...

My hairdresser suggested that I send my husband a picture of myself, naked, and see if he responded to that one.
"Sexting?"
"Yes." She said.  "What?  I mean, you're married."
Uh... I don't know about that...Hmmm...

So, then, you know... I'm in the bathroom later that day and I've got my phone with me (most important calls come while you are in the bathroom - proven fact) and my phone has a camera on it... and...  Well, I just wasn't impressed with how my body parts looked on the phone, to tell you the truth.  Maybe it's because I'm holding the phone myself and the angle is off.  I don't know.  It just wasn't workin' for me.

And I was thinking... I bet if I DID send him a naked picture of myself - with my luck - he wouldn't have his glasses on and he'd pass the phone to a friend to ask him what it's a picture of...  Hmmm...  I bet he WOULD text me back if that happened.  Heck, I might even get a phone call.

Running is...

Therapeutic, better than walking, great exercise, a challenge, fun, painful, a way to meet people, a reason to get up in the morning, a great way to experience the outdoors  (beautiful trails), my "thing", how I take care of my body, a way to have goals,the best decision I made, inexpensive, a reason to buy cute take tops, great with an ipod, great without an ipod, a way to process my thoughts, something to talk about, the best hour (or so) of the day, the fountain of youth, incredible at night, fun in the afternoon, best with friends, great when you need alone time...something I hope I never have to give up...