We Can Do Better

Change has been the name of the game for my life lately.  In the past year I have moved twice, changed stores and been promoted to manager of said store.  And while I take a moment to breath and take in all that has happened in the small picture for me, I would be remiss not to acknowledge all that is going on in the world.

In case anyone has missed it, Mother Nature is pissed off.  Hurricane after hurricane, flooding and earthquakes, so much natural disaster.  And while it would be easy to take the stand of global warming, maybe it's all just a wake up call for humanity to be nicer to each other.  To take care of one another.  And since we haven't, as a whole, been able to figure out how to do that on a regular basis perhaps natural disaster is the universe's way of pushing it to the forefront.  As Martin Luther King Jr. once said, "Hate can't drive out hate, only love can do that."  It's hard to hate someone who has just lost everything because Mother Nature made an unwelcome visit and therefore we offer love in the form of support, kindness and encouragement.  We show that we can do better.  And for me the big question becomes how do we do better on any given day and not just when there's an acute need for it.

Recently I have deviated from my stance of not watching, listening to or reading the news.  When Irma decided to make a run at the state of Florida and everyone went in to hurricane frenzy mode it seemed necessary to monitor the storm.  And then Maria came chugging along behind her and I continued to pay attention to the news just in case.  So for me, the first thing I'm going to do is stop paying attention to the infotainment again because that's what it is.  A grain of information dripping with sensationalism that creates unnecessary hype.  The next thing I'm going to do is figure out how I can do better.

A month or more ago I added this to our community bulletin board at work:

At first it was a slow go.  It stayed like this for days.  But then one day I encouraged a customer that I know to take what she needed and once someone took one, the other slips started disappearing.  Now I have to replenish it at least once a week sometimes more.  Can a small sticky note with one word written on it change the world?  Actually I think it can.  It can if the person who takes is encouraged to do better in a small way of their own.  There's a Garth Brooks song that has been running through my head a lot lately.  The title of the song is People Loving People and these are some lyrics from it:

We fear what we don't understand
And we've been scared since time began
All the colors and the cultures
Circle 'round us on a spindle
It's a complicated riddle
But the solution is so simple
It's people loving people

As a new leader in my store, in my peer group and in my community a theme that I keep repeating is one of my all time favorite Ram Dass quotes, "We're all just walking each other home."  Be kind to one another, kinder than necessary.  Look out for one another.  Go the extra mile to help someone, or even just the extra step.  It all matters.  We need to stop pointing our fingers in blame and start raising our hands to volunteer to help one another.  The time has come that not only can we do better, we have to do better.

Just As I Am

It is a chilly morning in the land of the sun.  When I took Jak out a little bit ago, I noticed there was frost on my car.  The sun is shining though so it won't stay long.  I'm at a loss today trying to remember what day it actually is because I am off on a Sunday and that very rarely happens. 

As I move along into 2016, I have decided my plan for this year is to really embrace who I am.  I've come to realize over the past few months that I think I've spent a lot of my life making myself feel like less because I haven't lived up to societal norms.  I didn't go to college, I'm in my late 30's and haven't been married or had kids.  In my mid 30's I packed up and moved away from my family instead of doing it when I was 20.  The thing is this, the only time I question or feel at all unhappy with my life choices is when I look at them through what I perceive to be the lens of society. 

The biggest thing about myself that I am working to embrace this year is that I am introvert.  This does not mean I am unfriendly, antisocial or lonely.  What it does mean is that I have to be mindful of how much and with who I socialize because I can get overwhelmed easily and in effect depleted.  And when I am feeling depleted I need to be alone.  Being alone is how I recharge.  As an introvert I am thinker.  My mind is always churning.  If you see me with what appears to be a sad/serious face or seemingly staring at something intently, I am just thinking.  And not necessarily about anything unpleasant. 

Since I'm only now starting to recognize what being an introvert really means, it didn't occur to me in making the move here how this would effect making connections in a new area.  Before I moved, my mom and I went to the same restaurant pretty much every Friday night.  We became friendly with the owners.  The waitresses new my order without me even telling them.  (I think routine may be another part of being an introvert.)  Now, after being here almost three years, I finally have a new restaurant where I'm getting to know the staff and vice versa.  Connections take time for an introvert and that's perfectly okay.

Mostly this year, I just want to keep telling that voice in my head that can be oh so unkind, that I am enough.  Just as I am.  What that voice wants me to believe is that what it perceives as shortcomings, are really what make me imperfectly perfectly me.  I've read a lot about how people are looking for their purpose in life.  Perhaps our purpose in life is to figure out who we are and how to best embrace that so we can grow and flourish.  Hello, my name is Hope and I am proud to be an introvert.

Something to Smile About

Yesterday, a kind soul arrived at my door bearing treasures from the home state.  Our cousin and her husband were traveling south and had some extra room so she thoughtfully asked my mom if there was anything she wanted to send down to me.  My mom extended the offer to my dad and two boxes and three Christmas wreaths made the trek down. 

My Christmas wreath has been hung on the inside of my door with care in hopes that by Christmas the needles will still be there.  The first year that I was here, my aunt nicely gave me a wreath made with real greens that I hung on the outside of my door which promptly turned brown and had to be taken down before Christmas.  The box from my dad came with instructions to wait until Christmas to open.  The labeling on the box says its a metal cutting chop saw so I'm pretty excited about opening that! 

The box from my mom came with instructions that it could be opened because it contained both wrapped Christmas presents and stuff I could have now.  I wasn't sure what I would find inside as my mom had threatened to pack up everything that I left at her house when I moved.  What I found was a pleasant surprise. 

This cookie jar was given to my mom and I 20 years ago when we moved into our new house by one of my good friends and her sister.  Since my mom is not a baker, it was very thoughtful of her to send this to me.  You see, not only does it have sentimental value, I do like to bake.  And since moving here I have actually been putting the $200 potato masher to use. 

One Christmas, years ago, I begged and pleaded for a Kitchen Aid stand mixer which my mom generously got for me.  The problem was no matter where I lived, there just wasn't a home on the counter for it and so it got put in cupboard.  And used rarely.  Mostly just for making a big batch of mashed potatoes.  So the joke became that it was a rather expensive potato masher, the $200 kind to be exact.  When I made the move here, it came with me and has always had a home on the counter.  That means it actually gets used and not just for making potatoes.  I like to bake and do so far more regularly than I have in the past.  And now I have a treasured cookie jar to put those baked goods in.  That's something to smile about.

Big thanks to my mom and Verna for the gift of this little moment.  Much love!

Me Too

After a strong start to keeping up with my blog entries, I have obviously been off the grid for a while.  The truth is, the last month has taken a lot out of me.  Previously, I wrote about grief as a personal journey.  What I hadn't fully comprehended then is how that journey can effect others or maybe even more so how emotionally charged (or draining) it can be when it crosses paths with another person's grief.

Something that has been helping me process the last few weeks and even the past two years, is a blog I found.  Interestingly I happened upon it a week or two before my stepmom passed.  It is written by the male half of country music duo, Joey & Rory.  I watched them years ago as they came on the music scene trying to win a recording contract on a show called Can You Duet?  (At least I think that was the name.)  They are a married couple, who I don't think won the show, but went on to do good things musically anyway.  Though I hadn't followed what they were up to for years, the article that caught my eye and lead me to Rory's blog was about Joey deciding not to have anymore treatment for cancer.  And while I didn't even know she had been battling cancer, I did know what it was like to get a phone call with the same news.  No more treatment.  The blog gives honest accounts of what it has been like for both of them, holding on to hope under the reality of a terminal diagnosis.  Joey has a bright spirit and though the cancer is taking so much, it hasn't taken her shine.  That is how my stepmom was too.  I call it grace.

Though we'd all like to think that bad stuff doesn't happen to us or our families, the reality is it does.  And when those things do happen, if we are brave enough to honestly share our experiences - like Joey & Rory are doing - it creates a connection.  It allows people sharing in a similar struggle to say, me too.  I know how you feel.  I've been there too.  And in that little moment, when the me too connection is made, it lightens the burden just a little a bit.

Here is the link to Rory's blog:
thislifeilive.com

Down a Road We Must Go

On a mild October day in New England last week, a great lady was laid to rest.

My stepmom waged a two year battle against pancreatic cancer and though it was a fight she knew she would never win, that didn't stop her from trying.  From the time of her diagnosis, I struggled with being so far away and knowing that I wouldn't be there to help.  And then I came to the conclusion that this didn't happen when I lived nearby so there must be a reason I was meant to handle it from afar.  So I called more often to check in, sent things in the mail to put a smile on her face and visited as often as I could.

Now, as we grieve the loss, I am left again to figure out how to do that from afar.  To live and work where no one knew my stepmom means there are not those constant little reminders that she's gone.  It also means there's no one to say hey, remember the time Lois did this or said that with.  At times like these, I think it's not so much the greater void left by the person that hurts the most, it's the little moments that sneak up on you.  Last week when I made the trip north for the services, I started my journey with one of those little moments.  Whenever I traveled I would always text my stepmom updates along the way because she liked to track my progress.  Whether he wanted them or not, my brother got those texts this trip because it was too hard not to have someone to keep posted.

Grief is a winding road and it is a personal journey.  It can be a cherished memory, a tear sliding down our cheek or a disproportionate response to something benign.  It is a path we walk with the love and support of friends and family.  It is a path, at times, we walk alone.  There is no right or wrong way of passage on this journey.  It is a collection of little moments that we navigate as they come.

In sad times, I choose to think of it as if it were a coin.  On one side sadness, and on the other side gratitude.  Because in order to feel sad about the loss of something, we have had the opportunity to experience the joy of knowing it and that is something to be grateful for. 
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The Worm

As I sit here on a Saturday afternoon, watching inspirational videos that bring tears to my eyes, like this one...

I feel compelled to share an inspirational video of my own that I took this week.  What you are about to see is footage of my dog Jak, doing his second favorite activity next to eating.  Before we moved, he would perform his signature dance move, the worm, in the snow.  He adapted his move to the warmer climate by seeking out the perfect spot of blush grass.

For almost nine years now, Jak is my reason to get out of bed in the morning and my reason to get out in walk even on the days when I'd rather not.  He is always happy, easy going and follows up most meals by eating cardboard for dessert.  His satisfaction in the seemingly little things, like a roll in the grass, make him my everyday reminder how the little moments make life big.

Walking Home

Last week I was having breakfast at my favorite spot.  It's a little out of the way cafe with outdoor seating.  There was an older man with his small dog sitting at the next table and we finished our meals at about the same time.  He commented about what a nice place it is and I had to agree.  This segued into him telling me a little about his life.  How he'd been in the Air Force stationed in Alaska.  He told me about what it's like to live in Alaska and how his son lives there now.

How long the conversation went on, I'm not exactly sure, 10-15 minutes, perhaps longer.  It was my day off and I had a full to do list waiting for me which I easily could've excused myself to get to.  But another thought prevailed in my head.  This guy is someone's dad and I have a dad who has no trouble engaging in conversation.  And somewhere, at some point, some kind stranger, or acquaintance or friend has chatted with my dad when I'm sure he/she had a to do list to get to.  As I drove away that day I kept thinking of a quote I'd seen by Ram Dass.

A conversation I long ago overheard between two co-workers has always stuck with me.  One was in need of a ride to pick up his car from the garage and he was looking for someone that lived near there so as not to be an inconvenience.  For the co-worker I heard him ask it would've been somewhat out of her way but she said she could run an errand in that area and would give him a ride.  Not wanting someone to be put out in any way, he tried to decline and what she said still resonates with me all these years later.  "We've all needed a ride somewhere at some point in our lives, it's no problem."  What a simple truth.  In the little moment it was a ride, but in the big picture, it was helping a fellow human being get home.

A kindness extended to someone else's dad is a kindness extended to my own dad.  A ride given to a colleague is a ride given to us or a loved one somewhere down the road.  Though our paths may vary greatly, we are all here doing the best we can to live each day to the fullest and on any given day a kindness we extend to another is a step toward walking each other home.