Attitude of Gratitude

I recently read an article about the effects of having a grateful attitude.  It was an article about scientifically proven benefits of gratitude. Apparently it improves not only our emotional health but also our physical health. A few things mentioned were it makes us happier, improves our moods, increases our resilience, improves our self-esteem.  It also can improve sleep, helps reduce pain, strengthens our immune system, and lowers stress. These are only a few of the things the article mentioned as positive effects of a grateful attitude. At times it tends to be a little difficult to see the sunny side up. Especially when many things get thrown at you during the day and you get bogged down with all the to-do’s and the don’t do’s and the don’t have time to do’s.  So how can we have an attitude of gratitude? I think you have to make it a habit. Like we have to make working out a habit, or eating healthy a habit. And for anything to become a habit we must do them for an extended period of time. We must practice it every day. It might be as simple as being grateful for a cup of coffee or tea in your hand, or the wonderful feeling of fur between your fingers as you scratch your little Fido’s face.  I believe the things or people or moments that bring the biggest joy are the little ones that sometimes might go unnoticed. I challenge you to join me in a month of jotting down a few things you are grateful for each day. I have a journal specifically for this task, because I tend to jump at any opportunity to buy a new journal, and I may or may not have bought some new pens for this month of gratitude. Whether it is in a journal, or in your planner, or a notecard.  And whether you jot down your gratitudes at the end of a long day, the beginning of a new day, or somewhere in between, let’s do it. And then let me know how you feel at the end of the month.  

Here is a list to start my attitude of gratitude:

• Skinny Vanilla lattes
• The first sip of coffee in the morning
• Writer’s group and kindred spirits
• The freshness of a new day with new possibilities
• My 95 year old grandmother’s young spirit
• My mother continuing to mother me even after I am a mother of my own.
• My daughter’s kind heart
• My son’s sincere and reflective mind
• Reminders on my phone because I have a million and one things on my mind at all times
• My silky pillow after a long day
• Music, any, all kinds
• Giggles during pedicures (not mine but my daughter’s)
• The determination on my son’s face before the snap of the football
• Friends who are family
• Pink dresses and strappy heels
• Walking into church on Sunday morning
• Walking out of church filled with peace on Sunday morning
• Curling up with my fuzzy blanket to watch a movie or read a good book
• The smell of the library
• My grandma’s house, and the stories it holds
• That I am exhausted at the end of the day because it means I tried my best. I gave all I had.
• That I carry hope within me so that even on the darkest of days, I still feel the sun’s rays even when I can’t see them. 

Probletunities by Carolyn

The school district I used to work for had a special word for difficulties: probletunities. This was intended to give the idea that problems were opportunities for growth or improvement.

To me, the term probletunities seems so very glib, so shmaltzy, as if we should be glad of the barriers or struggles or failures we encounter in our jobs or our relationships or just in our daily lives; that they should be celebrated as chances to grow and improve. "Yippee!" we might say, "I burnt the roast for tonight's dinner and our guests will be here in twenty minutes. Now I have a chance to improve myself by solving this problem!" Or "Hooray! I hit the accelerator instead of the brake and ran into this brick wall. I'm so glad I now have the opportunity to grow as I have the car towed and struggle to find the money for repairs. I know this will ultimately make me a better person." Not likely for most of us.

I dislike the term probletunities, but I do applaud the sentiment. Although it seems counter-intuitive, it is true that we learn more from mistakes or struggles than from successes.

As a parent, grandparent, and educator, I have observed this to be true, yet it is still difficult to allow those we care about to go through difficulties. Not only do we not want to engage in struggles or experience failures ourselves, but we don't want our loved ones to, either.  One of the characteristics almost all parents have in common is that they want the best for their children. We want them to have happy, healthy lives, so we do our best to smooth out the rough spots for them. By not allowing them to experience the common struggles in life and working toward solutions, we may be setting them up to be less responsible, less diligent, less appreciative.

Most of the teachers I have known (and that is a lot!) are, by nature, "helpers". They have a deep desire to nurture and help people, particularly children. Unfortunately, this can lead to being too helpful. It is very common for students to complain about a task being too hard. Our first instinct is to swoop in and help. Rather, we should allow a little reasonable struggle, providing just enough support. This builds persistence, confidence, willingness to try new things. If we are never given the opportunity to try things that are just a little harder than what we have already mastered, how will we ever grow and learn? Everything we ever accomplish as human beings comes about because we have tried something just a little bit harder than what we did before or we have experienced some sort of problem that has forced us to come up with a better way of doing things.

I have seen an increase in what I label "learned helplessness" in children, both in classrooms and with their parents. While I don't think we should go out of our way to make things difficult for children, I do think it is easy to overdo the rescuing we are inclined to do. In my previous life as an assistant principal, I dealt with many parents who were determined not to allow their children to undergo any type of negative consequences for misbehavior. I often told them that it was better to allow children to experience (and survive) small punishments for small infractions when they were young (and, hopefully, learn the concept of cause and effect from it) than to experience those same lessons when they were older, their mistakes were larger, and the punishments more severe.

So, while I don't really like the term probletunities, I do embrace the idea that we learn best by experiencing and overcoming trials and by stretching ourselves to reach just a little bit farther than we were able to yesterday.

Decisions, Decisions

I am not comfortable with making choices.  It isn’t often that I deviate from my norm.  I like to stick to what I know. There is comfort in the familiar, and I am all about the comfort.  I love my comfy “ I like big cups and I cannot lie” t-shirt. I have a favorite pair of comfy sleepy pants to wear during winter, and some comfy shorts I wear during summer.  When I go to a restaurant, I already know what I am going to have. Chick-fil-A with all of its options, I know I will get a number 3 with a lemonade to drink. No need to upsize unless it’s been a day that requires some supersize fries.

It’s not the decision itself that scares me, but more choosing wrong.  Making a wrong choice will lead to a bad outcome and then where does that leave you?  Life ruined forever. Ok… ok.. A little dramatic. While there are certain situations that can highly alter your life, most don’t warrant the stress and worry we tend to cause ourselves.  I have been making some decisions recently that have kept me up at night wondering whether or not I took the right path. Did I choose the road less traveled like Robert Frost suggests? Or is Jerry Seinfeld right and is the road less traveled less traveled for a reason?   

Regardless of what quote you subscribe to, or what path you take, it’s all about how you handle a situation when the decision is made.  The decision does not define your outcome. Only you can do that. You change jobs and it might not be exactly what you thought it was, but you can still have a positive outcome.  We can make the best of any situation, and see the beauty in the paths we do choose. The journey doesn’t end after one choice after all. We keep going, keep moving, keep choosing.

~Esmeralda

Fine

“I’m fine” is a  phrase I use regularly.  More often than not it’s what comes out of my mouth when my Friends or family ask how I’m doing.  It is a comfortable, safe response, and the least complicated. It isn’t a lie. Most times I am fine.   Regardless, one Monday morning when I was rushed and stressed, and not fully recovered from the weekend a friend asked me how I was doing.  I said fine with a smile of course, and then we shut our portable doors to start our day. I stayed in that same spot near the door for a bit, as I contemplated how much I actually claim to be fine.  It got me thinking, was I really fine? Why do those words just spill off my tongue so easily without any thought. What am I trying to communicate to others and to myself? I decided to further investigate so I googled the definition of the word I claimed to be so many times a day.  One definition of fine was: to be very well, in a satisfactory manner.  Doesn’t sound bad. It’s not negative.  There is no emotion or umph behind it though.  It just is. The second definition, however was: high quality.  I liked the sound of that. Sounded better than satisfactory. I continued my search with some synonyms.  First-class, first-rate, great, exceptional, splendid, exquisite, superb.   Wow!  They all had a powerful ring to them more so than the fine I was used to referring to.  When I used my old kind of fine, I felt it. I felt satisfactory. I was going through the motions of the day.   Counting the minutes, not the moments. Why just be satisfactory when we can be superb? Why not exquisite or splendid?  

In our busy day to day of living life, the tasks can be mundane at times if we let them.  We don’t have to though. From now on, when and if I use my favorite phrase, it won’t just mean satisfactory.  My hope is that when someone asks how you are doing, you can smile and answer with emotion and honesty, I’m fine.  

Doubt and Belief by Carolyn

I am an avid watcher of the Olympics – always have been. During the current coverage of the Olympics, a commercial for Koch Industries articulates one of the reasons I enjoy watching. The voiceover states,

“In every challenge, there are two rivals: belief and doubt. Doubt has a bigger team. Belief is outnumbered, but never outworked. When a score is settled, belief rises to the top.”

Read that again, slowly, and let it sink in.

We often talk about challenging ourselves. Maybe we walk another half a mile. Do ten more sit-ups. Take an honors course. Tackle a difficult recipe. Choose the stairs instead of the escalator. Take up oil painting. Whatever. All of that is great. I don’t want to diminish any of the ways in which we stretch ourselves to become better or healthier or more accomplished. That’s an important part of living.

However, most of us, if we are honest with ourselves, don’t attempt to do what terrifies us or what seems impossible for us to accomplish. Very few of us have the strength of belief in ourselves (and the willingness to work hard enough) to tackle the insurmountable. Our belief in ourselves bows to the bigger team that doubt always fields.

I salute those whose belief in themselves and their goals is strong enough to outwork doubt. Those who are willing to do the incredibly difficult work it takes day after day, year after year, to overcome their fears, their handicaps, the little whisper (or loud roar) that says, “You can’t.”

Olympic athletes are among those few. So are those who overcome persecution or disabilities or seemingly unconquerable difficulties to ultimately succeed; to become proud and productive. For all of those who conquer doubt with belief, who set goals for themselves that terrify and thrill them, I applaud your spirit and strength. May we all be inspired by your determination to accomplish what we did not believe we could.

The Complaint Department by Carolyn

Do you remember when department stores had a Complaint Department? Some poor soul sat behind a counter and listened to customers' gripes all day, every day. As horrid as that job would be, the benefit of it was that the complaints were (hopefully) heard by someone who could fix them, or had some control over the way things were done in that store. I think that is a concept that we need to consider using in our daily lives.

In my previous life as an assistant principal, I received many complaints from parents about teachers. Always, always, I asked if the parent had talked to the teacher about the issue before calling me. More times than not, the answer was no. This always surprised and disappointed me. I could not understand why a parent would not talk to the teacher if there was a problem. Wouldn't the teacher know far more about the situation than I, a relative outsider, would? Wouldn't the teacher be able to clear up any misunderstandings that had occurred when the student came home with a story about something that had happened in class? I am sure I made many parents unhappy when I insisted that they call the teacher to discuss the issue before involving me in it any further. How can the teacher make positive changes or clear up misunderstandings if never approached about the problem? I believe that, whenever possible, you should take your complaints to the person who has control over the situation.

Likewise, when friends have complained to me about problems with co-workers, their bosses, relatives, business people, whatever, I have encouraged them to talk to the person who could answer their questions, explain the situation, or make a change if needed. I'm happy to listen, but it does no good to air your grievances to someone who has absolutely no control over the problem. It might make us feel a little better to rant and rave and vent our spleen, but it does not resolve anything. The problem is still exactly what it was before the gripe session.

Even worse, the rancor caused by the discontent continues. Not only is the problem unresolved, but there are hard feelings between the person with the complaint and the source of their complaint. Most often, the target of this rancor is blissfully unaware that a problem even exists, because the one who is unhappy has never voiced that opinion to the right person.

This year, this has been a particularly painful problem for me at work. I have become aware that there are people who do not like the way I do my job. This is no surprise - the nature of my job as an instructional coach virtually guarantees that not everyone will approve of the way I do my job. A large part of my job is to (gently) push teachers a little beyond their comfort zone into what have proven to be best practices. Pushing gently is tricky. Some people prefer not to be pushed at all; others thrive on being pushed. I totally understand that. What I find most difficult to understand is why any of my coworkers would not come talk to me about their dissatisfaction instead of letting their resentment build up so much that they spew venom to others about me. That seems unfair.

A few years ago, we studied a chapter of a book* that dealt with how to meet complaints from others. The authors wrote about how important it is to guide employees to meet criticism with curiosity, rather than defensiveness. They advised us to ask ourselves, "What part of this problem have I caused?" I have worked on this response myself many times since reading that chapter. It is not a natural response, but it can be done. I like to think that I could (eventually, if not immediately) meet complaints with more curiosity that defensiveness. However, if complaints about me aren't brought to me, I never have the chance to be curious about the way I do things. If we don't approach others about our dissatisfaction, we deny them a chance to explain themselves or to improve what they do.

I know that it is difficult - most of us shy away from confrontation - but perhaps we need to make an attempt to take our complaints to the correct complaint department - to the person who has control over the situation. It would probably be healthier and make us all happier if we did.


*Chapter Two, "Curiosity", of Radical Change, Radical Results by Kate Ludeman and Eddie Erlandson, 2003, published by Kaplan Business

So Far by Kevin, Guest Writer

So far in my life I have taken somewhere around 550,624,000 breaths.  Some of them were short and fearful--like when my sixth grade teacher showed me the book I thought I had lost, and asked me for the book I stole to replace it.  Others were long and luxurious--like deeply breathing in tropical sea air perfumed with the scent of the lei of flowers around my neck, and thinking Hawaii and Heaven just might be the same place.  There have been quick gasps of delight and of pain, long drawn calming breaths and even choking sobs that refused to stay in my lungs.

So far I have breathed the joy of getting my first car, of walking across stages at graduations, and across an altar as my beautiful bride came down the aisle to me.  My breath has caught in my throat waiting for the first newborn cries of my children.  It has stuck there saying final goodbyes to my parents.

I’m grateful for every one of them. However, with each breath I have come closer to the realization that our attitudes, our feelings, our moods and personalities are largely a product of how we choose to exhale.

In times of joy and contentment it is easy to exhale kindness, patience, and affection.  But in times of conflict and strife, it is much easier to blow out hatefulness.  So herein lies the real question, my friends.  Are you going to breathe in anger and bitterness only to spew out ugliness and hurt?  Or are you going to breath it in and transform it into grace, hope, and love?  From this breath on, you do have a choice!

How have you been breathing so far?  

Kevin L. Williams is a child of God, the husband of Angie, and the father of Emilee, Grant, and Gabe.  He is a facilitator of learning for phenomenal 5th graders at Reed Elementary.  

What You Put in the Center by Carolyn Pierce

I recently came across this passage while I was reading:
       
We had one of those world maps with the U.S. right in the middle -- remember those? And one of the students looked at it and said, "How come the East Indies are in the west?" And that question got me thinking about the impact of what you put in the center, and what it does to everything else.*

I can picture exactly the map referenced in the quote. The map, presumably made by an American company, featured the United States smack-dab in the middle of the map. The U.S. looked huge compared to the rest of the countries in the world. I grew up thinking that the U.S. was the largest nation in the world. Because Russia (or the U.S.S.R., or whatever its name was at the time) was cut so that part of it was on the left side of the map and part of it was on the right side of the map, it didn't look nearly as big as it is in reality. Canada, stretching to the far north, grew smaller toward the Arctic, which fooled the eye. Imagine my surprise and disillusion when I came face-to-face with the realization that not only was the U.S. not the largest country in the world, it wasn't even the second largest! That kind of map lead me to believe a falsehood about the size of the U.S., and I am reasonably certain that it also (subliminally) led me to believe that the U.S. was the most important country on earth. Okay, maybe it is to me, but probably not to people in other countries. I wonder what the maps in their schools look like . . .

Reading this passage did make me think about maps, but it also spoke to me about other parts of life. I have heard many times the adage, "You make time for what matters", so let's take a look at our daily planners or the calendars we have hanging on the refrigerator. How often is quality time with family or friends written in? How much time each week is allocated to worship? If you wrote down the time spent in front of the TV or playing on an electronic device, would it totally fill your free time? Have you blocked out time for improving your physical health? Is there time each week for learning something new? Do you have any volunteer service penciled in? If someone else took a look at your calendar, could they see at a glance what you put in the center of your life?

As if that wasn't guilt-inducing enough, let's think about our thinking. What absorbs your thoughts? If you had a thought-o-meter, where would the needle point most often? Do you constantly think about your job, your money, your looks, your possessions, your importance in life? Do you continue to think about work even when you are relaxing with family or friends? They can tell, you know. Are your thoughts most often focused on self-pity, your trials and tribulations, how others have done you wrong -- the unpleasant things in your life? That shows on your face (and it is not pretty). Likewise, if your thoughts are most often concerned with the good things in your life (counting your blessings, so to speak), that shows on your face as well. Your thoughts are a sure indicator of what you have put in the center of your life.

Ditto for your words -- they are just thoughts with a voice.  What does your conversation reveal about what is at the center of your life?

Lest you think I am feeling "holier-than-thou", rest assured that what I am writing is very convicting for me as well. I need to examine my own calendar, my own thoughts, my own words to see what I have put at the center of my life. I'm afraid I will not be pleased by the conclusions I must draw. I feel the need to make a plaque for my wall so I can see it every day:
                                       
                                            What you put in the center impacts everything else.





*The passage (in a book called A More Beautiful Question by Warren Berger) is a quote from Deborah Meier, a revolutionary educator who founded the Central Park East schools in Harlem in the 1970s. Meier was talking about the importance of what you put in the center of the curriculum in schools, but the words spoke to me about life in general.

Poor, Pitiful Me by Carolyn

Most of the time I am fairly content and reasonably positive about my life. There are times, however, that I find myself feeling sorry for myself for a multitude of reasons big and small. Here is how it goes (read with whiny voice) :

Why do I have to get up so early to go to work? I hate getting up early. I would like to never, ever set my alarm and get to sleep as long as I want to every day.

Why can't I just buy whatever I want to? I work hard - I should have enough money left after I pay my bills to spend it on things I want without having to pinch pennies. Other people are able to buy things they want. I have been working for more than thirty years, for goodness sake!

Everybody I know went on vacation to some wonderful, exotic place this summer. I went to Fort Worth. I would like to be able to travel to _______ like ________ did (insert specifics). I am 56 years old! When will I get to travel the world?

There is nothing to eat in this house. I am too tired to go grocery shopping. I have worked a full day and I am pooped. I wish there was something appealing in the pantry or the refrigerator for me to eat. There are never any groceries in this house.

And speaking of houses, why can't I have a fancy big house like other people? I have a dinky little cookie-cutter house. I can practically reach out and touch my neighbors' walls. I want a beautiful house with nice furniture and lots of space so I can have people over. I deserve a nice house like ____________ (insert name of friends whose houses I envy). I need new furniture, but can't afford it. My furniture is ragged. Everything in my house is old and worn out. And a pool with a Jacuzzi wouldn't be bad either. Then a maid and gardener would be great too . . . 

I don't get to see my children and grandson enough. I miss them. They live too far away. Other people get to see their children and grandchildren as much as they want. 

Get the picture?

Here is what I should be thinking instead (and occasionally, actually do think) with a heart of gratitude:

Whoohoo! I get to get up and get started on my day! I have the physical and mental capabilities to get and keep a job and be self-supporting. I have the privilege of working in a job I love and find rewarding, in a beautiful building (with air conditioning!), with people who are friendly and supportive and passionate about what they do. Even better, I get to make a difference in the lives of children and therefore, the future of humanity. 

Lucky me! I make a good salary doing what I love to do (see entry above). I make enough money to own a home, pay my utility bills, buy the necessities, and treat myself a little (shoes and books, usually). No one controls my spending except me. I make the decisions about how to spend the money I work for (except for taxes, of course). If I run out of money before the end of the month, I have no one to blame but myself.

I didn't take a vacation this summer, but I have taken some in the past. I haven't been everywhere I want to go, not by a long shot, but I have had the privilege of visiting Ireland (twice), Hawaii (twice), the Pacific Northwest, the Caribbean, Mexico, New York City, Boston, Philadelphia, Santa Fe, and several less glamorous places. Even better, I have taken those vacations with family and dear friends, which makes every trip a cause for joy.

Hmmmm. I don't see anything exciting in the pantry or in the refrigerator. I have several choices. I can eat what is here (because even when there doesn't seem to be any food in my house, there is still actually A LOT of food in my house), or I can get into the reasonably nice, dependable, paid-for car that is just outside my house to drive about half a mile and buy almost any kind of food I want, or I can order something yummy to be delivered to my door with just a few taps on my phone or computer. I do not actually have any fear of starving to death.

My neighborhood is safe and pleasant; no sirens or screaming fights in the street or gunshots or drug dealers on the corner.  What a pleasure it is to come home to a sturdy, comfortable home with air conditioning (or heat).  After I turn on the lights and the ceiling fan, I want to get a cold drink out of the refrigerator and pour it over some ice which magically pops out of the freezer door.  I think I will stretch out on this comfy old couch and watch a little cable TV on the big screen. Or perhaps I will go out on my deck and lounge on the glider (or possibly on the hammock or the chair swing) and relax and enjoy the shade from my 39 trees. Wait, I might prefer a nice, relaxing bath in my garden tub where I can perfectly adjust the temperature of the hot and cold running water. Maybe a little bubble bath and a glass of wine . . .

I am so blessed to have two wonderful, healthy sons, a sweet daughter-in-law, and a beautiful, snuggly grandson. It is great that I get to be with them every now and then. We are so fortunate that we live within driving distance of each other, so we can visit sometimes. And, how wonderful that we can talk on the phone, or text, or email. We never need to be out of touch with each other, and I am so glad that they are still willing to give me their time when they can.  Even more fabulous, we usually actually like spending time together!

Bottom line: Life doesn't owe me anything. I am blessed in so many ways. I just need to remember that, especially when my alarm starts beeping early in the morning . . .

The Burden of the Blessing by Carolyn

The Burden of the Blessing

A few weeks ago, I used the last paper towel on the roll. My dogs love to chew on paper and cardboard, so I made a gift of the empty paper towel roll to Beara, one of my Yorkie-Poos. (It probably isn't good for them to chew on cardboard, but it felt like the benevolent-mom thing to do.) Anyway, Beara was thrilled with her unexpected gift and immediately clamped down her jaws on the precious cardboard treat. She is a fairly small dog, so the ends of the paper towel roll stuck out about five inches on each side of her mouth. I expected that she would quickly find a private spot (so she could evade her doggie siblings) and begin chewing on the roll, her usual M.O. when she gets a treat. She did not.

Strangely, she began to wander around the room in circles, still holding the tube in her mouth. She made no move to settle in anywhere, or to try to hide her treat from Finn and Rennie. Several times she came up to me, her precious burden still clamped tightly in her teeth, staring into my eyes with an expression I could only interpret as anxiety. I tried a couple of times to take the empty paper towel tube from her, in case that was what she wanted me to do to solve her problem, but she resisted. This odd unsettled behavior continued on for several minutes; Beara still was unable to roost anywhere to enjoy her treat.

It suddenly occurred to me that the roll of cardboard was so large that Beara did not know how to handle it, literally and figuratively. My perception of Beara's thinking was this: "This is too much of a good thing. I can't handle this much. But I can't put it down because someone else might steal it, even though I am not enjoying it. This blessing feels like a burden."

Once I had figured this out, I had to take action to help her. I knew she would not let me take the paper towel tube out of her mouth - she was not about to loosen her grip on the oversized treat - so I grabbed a pair of scissors and snipped the cardboard on either side of her muzzle. Now there were three cardboard treats, one for each dog. The hunk of the tube Beara still carried in her mouth was apparently now just the right size. She hurried off to a nice, comfortable spot on the rug and began chewing, totally happy with her treat. I gave each of the other dogs their share of the cardboard tube, and they quickly followed suit. They all chewed contentedly within a few inches of each other, not in the least concerned about what the others had, which doesn't happen often. It seemed as if sharing her blessing had enabled Beara to finally enjoy it, and, coincidentally provided a blessing for others, too.

I began to wonder what parallel there might be in our human behavior. Was it possible that what we first perceive as blessings, like the treat I gave Beara, might end up as burdens to us? Are we sometimes uncomfortable with blessings when we know that others do not have as much? Or maybe we become overwhelmed with the responsibility that often comes with blessings? That reminds me of the passage from the Bible that says, "For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required." (Luke 12:48a)

I had to talk this over with the other three writers in my group, of course. (We often get quite philosophical during our meetings.) Andrea pointed out that there might be a lesson as well in the idea that Beara did not make any progress with her dilemma until she asked for help. She wisely came to the one other being in the house who was perfectly equipped to help her - the human with the scissors. If she had asked for help from the other two dogs, the results would not have been at all satisfactory! Is there a moral for us in this, too? Maybe when we are faced with something overwhelming (even a huge blessing), we should think carefully about seeking help, and choose exactly the right one to help us enjoy the blessing - or burden? - we have been given. Or maybe it isn't a person at all, but a higher being we should consult?

Then, too, I think there may be a correlation for us to ponder in the notion that Beara did not, could not, enjoy her blessing until she had shared it with others. Maybe I am giving too much credit to Beara's doggie brain when I ascribe thoughtful benevolence to her actions, but it did seem as if she only gained enjoyment from her blessing when she had given up part of it to Finn and Rennie. Wouldn't it be great if all of us humans were to think that way - that blessings are not enjoyable until we share them with others?  I know some people do have that mindset, but I know it is difficult for many of us (myself included) to give up any part of our blessings to others. If we did, maybe we, too, could finally settle down and enjoy what we have been given. Surely the world would be a much better place if we all shared the burden of our blessings with others.

-Carolyn

My Chaos, A Gift

Think, think, and think. …What to write about?…. It’s my turn to post, and I have nothing.  My writing successors and partners, have set the bar so high, I’m going to need some sort of winged transport to even get close to their quality of writing.  It doesn’t help that my mind is a black hole, and my words are getting sucked in with no hope of surviving.  My preverbal plate is full, which could have something to do with the fact that my brain is mush.  It’s been a rough week.  Running around to and fro with my kids, chauffeuring them from this activity to the next.  Feeling guilty for not planning ahead the healthy meal they should be eating, but instead having Burger King in their bellies. 

Excuse after excuse.  I tell my self tomorrow will be better.  I will wake up earlier. I will plan my meals on Sunday, and have everything precut and packaged in little baggies like the good moms do on Pinterest.  Problem is, in order to get up earlier; you need to go to bed early.  By the time we get home from soccer practice, its bath, read, bed, and many times I fall asleep without wanting to.  Which then of course leaves dirty dishes in my sink, and streaks on my tile floor.  And don’t even get me started on grocery shopping.  This particular chore to me is like getting a cavity filled.  But grocery shopping on a Sunday is like getting a cavity filled, plus wisdom teeth removed, and blood drawn all at the same time.  Painful right?  That’s exactly what I think about getting my much-needed ingredients for a healthy week of meals on a Sunday afternoon. 

I fail time and time again.  But…..I keep going.  I keep trying, and I keep failing at being perfect.  That’s ok with me. Because I am a mess.  I have come to terms with that.  My mind is a mess, my schedule is a whirlwind of activities, and to be honest, my house isn’t picture perfect, inside or out.  At the end of the day, however, it’s my life.  It’s my gift.  I’m lucky to have it every morning I wake up.  The cherry on top is having the privilege to have conversations with two very important people while chauffeuring them around to the weekly soccer practice or dance performance.  Sounds perfect to me. 

~Esmeralda