Silk and Sandpaper

Several days ago, I had a day at work that wasn’t necessarily bad…but it wasn’t good either. Have you ever had one of those days?

On that particular day, things that would normally create a minor little pause in my day felt more…abrasive.

Later that day as I was attempting to share with my daughter how my day went, I could only best explain it by telling her that if good days felt like silk, that day felt more like sandpaper.

Silky days are those days when everything is smooth. I feel like I’m in my flow – whatever I’m doing is going well and I’m feeling really good about it.

Days that feel rough, just like sandpaper, can have varying degrees of abrasiveness. It may be that minor little things annoy me. However, on those tougher, more challenging days, it may feel like sandpaper that has a coarser grit. Those are the days that could potentially result in some deep scratches.

I then reminded myself sandpaper days may have some benefits. Perhaps I will respond by taking several deep breaths or do something good for myself, even if it’s just a five-minute walk break or a quick check in with a trusted friend. Sandpaper days certainly help me appreciate more the days that feel like silk. 

Since then, I’ve shared this with a few people and am not surprised they grasped my description quickly. I think we can all relate.

If you find yourself having a day that feels more like sandpaper, I hope this encourages you to find a way to respond that smoothens out the rough edges.

Pivoting

Yesterday was a day I had to pivot – more times than I could have anticipated. 

I was scheduled to meet a friend at 9:30 for breakfast. Thirty minutes before we were to meet, she called me and said the restaurant did not open until later in the morning. We came up with a plan B and off I went. We arrived to the second restaurant only to discover there was no available seating. Pivoting to plan C. Thankfully, the third choice had one table left and we had a delicious breakfast and great conversation.

Later in the day I was on my way to the store to pick up a few things for my mother-in-law who just got out of rehab. I arrived only to discover they were closed. The bad storm the evening before had wiped out their electricity. I changed direction and drove to another store a few miles away. I could hardly believe they were closed also – again no power from the storm. I pivoted once again and drove to yet another store and was able to get the items she requested. 

I haven’t always handled hurdles like this well. Being able to adapt and adjust when obstacles arise and things don’t go as planned is a skill I’m still learning. 

Pivoting means the goal doesn’t change when the obstacles arise, it is about finding another path to the desired outcome.  And doing that without losing my cool. I know when I am able to pivot with ease, like I did yesterday, I celebrate that as a small victory.

My Dance Partners

Each morning I read from a devotional and every day has a new entry.  As the new year rolls around, I begin again. I’ve read these same passages each year for the past several years, yet it never ceases to amaze me how sometimes it seems like I’m reading an entry for the very first time.

That happened to me just the other day. I opened to the date and the first line said “Waiting, trusting and hoping are intricately connected…”

I stopped there for a moment. Waiting. Trusting. Hoping. 

I think it hit me so intensely that day because it feels like my life right now is a dance with those three as my partners.

If you are a regular reader of my blog, you might remember my very first post was about hope being my superpower. I still hold tightly to that, as hope is an internal choice that I can make again and again.  This partner and I have a good rhythm. 

Trust, on the other hand, can be more of a challenge. My faith provides a foundation of trust that I’m going to be okay, no matter what. I know that because I’ve overcome and survived a lot of things in my years. The difficulty comes when my trust involves another person, and their poor choices, that I have no control over, directly affect me.  My trust is then fragile and the dance is painful and awkward. 

Lastly, there’s waiting… oh the waiting. I think this is the hardest for me. Why? Because waiting means I have an expectation of something happening. The more uncertain the outcome is, the harder the wait. It feels never-ending.  When I practice the dance of waiting, I have days where the steps are smooth, yet others it feels like I’m falling, tripping over my own feet.

What do I do? I keep on practicing the moves, over and over, one day at a time. I hope for good and the best for myself and others, I trust that no matter what each day brings, I will make it through and do my best, and then I wait. I wait for the good and best things…and while I’m waiting, I hold on tight to that hope and trust. 

Appreciation to Readers

Yesterday I embarked on another leg of my writing adventure. The owner of a local cafe’ has supported many authors by providing a space for them to promote their books. She had been asking me for a year when I would have a book signing event, so yesterday I finally did. 

I want to thank my family and friends, and also some previous and current co-workers who came to support me. Some of them had already read my first book, The Letters and brought their copy to be signed, others came to purchase one.

Several of the diners eating that morning stopped and asked me about my book.  When I shared it was a story about a father and son dealing with grief, a look would come across their face.  A look of recognition, understanding.  Almost everyone has had a brush, or maybe even a full-on collision, with grief. 

One of the diners shared with me her husband had just lost his mom, another her own mother, and one woman spoke to me about a family member who recently lost her 23-year-old daughter. All of them were grieving. I was able to relate, listen to their story and even provide encouragement. 

It was shared with me that the mother of the 23-year-old is being offered lots of opinions and suggestions of what she “should” do to handle her loss. She feels adrift.  And while grief is universal, how we deal with it is very personal and unique. 

I’m thankful for all who have read my book, and those who are getting ready to.  My hope has been that the story I’ve penned will resonate with others and provide hope and encouragement, and remind us all we don’t have to travel the road alone.

Writing Expedition

I recently heard someone on a podcast say: you write what you need to hear.

I can’t speak for others, but it often rings true for me. Writing gives me the opportunity to process my thoughts and arrange them in a coherent order. 

There have been times I’ve gone back and read something I wrote – it can be days, months or even years later. I’ve discovered more than once feeling surprised with what I had written. 

Being able to revisit my thoughts has shown me that sometimes my words still ring true for me now just as much as they did in the past. Other times it is a reminder of my ignorance or humanness. Or maybe, like an onion, I’ve peeled back another layer and learned even more about myself, or how old thought patterns have changed and are now reshaped into something new and better.

About two years ago I came across one journal from a long time ago. It had guided prompts with questions. This was during a period of what I will call spiritual “murkiness.” I could hardly read it because some of what I wrote just felt “icky.” I even considered throwing it away or burning it. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to do that, partly because this was a part of me, representing a lived experience and shaping me into who I am today. 

I recently pulled the journal back out and started looking at it again. This time, I was able to read it with a new lens and could see so many areas of transformation and growth. I was able to see the things that no longer rang true for me. More importantly I saw that even in the midst of all the cloudy, shadowy thoughts and beliefs back then, there were also rays of light filtering through. This was evidence that truth was always there, waiting patiently for me to see it. 

Not everyone likes to put down on paper the things that are whirling around in their head and hearts, but for those who do, it can be a catalyst for growth and discovery.

Ruminating

My last post was titled Feet in Two Worlds, in which I contemplated the feelings we may experience when we are faced with choosing between two positions, and then asking if can we stand on both sides. 

As I’ve pondered the “two worlds” these past few weeks, I started thinking about it in a different way. Like a lot of other things, it can be multifaceted. 

My thoughts then traveled to the complexities of growing up and parent/child roles.

I remember I couldn’t wait to be an adult. I was excited to move out and start my own life, make my own decisions. I thought I was so grown up. But when things got stressful, there were times I wanted to go back home and have my parents tell me I should do. I felt torn between my desire to be an adult and prove myself and at the same time wanting the simplicity of being taken care of. 

Several decades later it felt like my feet were in two worlds again. This is a place others have been, and many still are.

While yet a child to my mom, I was, along with my siblings, overseeing and even making many decisions for her. Her cognitive decline was slow, so slow it took us a long time to recognize it. 

Where I found myself back then was being that child, yet in many ways being more like a parent to my mom. I missed her and the way life was when she was there to turn to for advice and comfort. I remember feeling like I wanted to run from that world, the place where I longed to be a young girl again and have my mom as my confidante and advisor, when in actuality I was now the “grown up” in our relationship. She was still my mom, and yet she wasn’t. 

That is where I stayed. With my feet planted in both of those worlds. And while living in that dual space wasn’t easy, I was honored to give that love back to her. 

Feet In Two Worlds

We live in a world where we are often expected to choose sides. Not in every situation or circumstance, mind you. However, there are no lack of opportunities to do just that. And once we’ve chosen, we often plant our feet and refuse to budge. 

Some people don’t find it so easy to choose just one side.  I can relate. The older I get, the less certain I am that one side has everything right and the other one is all wrong. It’s not always that clear.

What do we do when we see things differently than others? We want the opportunity to be heard…yet can we sit and listen to an opposing view or opinion? If we come to the table with our decision made and not even willing to listen to others, how can things ever improve? If you’ve ever sat with someone and felt like they listened, and you really felt heard, I bet you were more open to consider what they had to say as well. Can you be the one to create that space?

I’m not suggesting anyone recklessly jump sides or compromise their values. But when we stand so firm on our side that our ears, minds and hearts are closed, what changes? Who wins? 

I just would like to see more of us be brave and willing to stand, even for a little bit, with our feet in two worlds. 

Tracking

If you’ve ever tried to lose weight, one of the things they advise is tracking what you eat. Either by writing it all down or these days, an app can be downloaded on your phone to monitor it all. This way, you have a better idea of what you are consuming and what needs to change. 

Let me just say, I hate tracking.

There is something else that we would benefit from tracking: how our bodies respond to stress. When you’re in traffic or behind a slow driver, are you holding the steering wheel so tight your knuckles are white, or you’re screaming at a driver who probably has no idea they are being yelled at? Perhaps you are watching the news and the more you listen, the more you just start feeling weighed down? 

If we do the work of tracking for a while, discovering what is going on inside our body and how to respond has great benefits. This is a type of tracking I’ve been working on.

I recently had a phone conversation with someone that left me feeling like I had just put on about 20 layers of winter clothing. I felt warm and so heavy with the weight I could barely go on to my next task. In fact, I physically could not. 

Thankfully, I had some tracking experience under my belt and understood what was going on, and more importantly, what would help me move through this. I needed to move and also to cry. So I did.

I stood up and shook my arms and my body, kind of like what you see when someone gets out of a swimming pool to shake off the excess water. And then I started crying. It felt both awful and good at the same time. I also talked with a trusted person, another thing that helps me.

Having done the work of tracking in the past, I knew what to do so the experience of that day didn’t throw me into an emotional dark place where I made choices that weren’t good for me or caused me to say mean or hurtful things to those around me. 

So even though it was a tough experience, I’m able to look back and recognize the small victory I had because of learning how to pay attention and track what was going on inside of me. I see that as a win.

Life is a Moving Target

Most of us want to be happy.  It is a common desire or goal.  But how do we achieve it?  

A few years ago, when I took a Yale online course on happiness, one of the things I learned is when we finally obtain something we may be striving for, we are often not satisfied. Well, at least not for very long. 

Since then I’ve heard many stories about people who have attained great success, maybe they got the job they always wanted, won the lottery or received an award for their achievement. They have a feeling of satisfaction or even euphoria…but like an old balloon, the feeling eventually deflates.  I then thought of it like target practice.  

The purpose of target practice is to become proficient in hitting your target exactly where you are aiming. Success requires deliberate and consistent effort. Especially if the target is not a stationary object. I imagine practicing at a gun range is drastically different than skeet shooting. 

What I learned in that course and in many things I’ve heard and read since then, is that external things are not going to provide a sustaining feeling of satisfaction or fulfillment. That truly can only come from inside, and often changes as we age and our priorities shift.  Learning that requires effort and self-reflection, also deliberate and consistent.

It’s a process. And I believe it’s ever changing and never static. The thing is, we are all given the same playing field to figure it out. It’s called life. 

Hello 2023

This past year has brought some unexpected challenges and expenses with it. As I say goodbye to 2022 and enter into a new year, I want to approach it with curiosity and possibility and not apprehension.

I’ve never really made any type of New Year’s resolution. It just seems like an opportunity to fail. 

The past few years I’ve taken a different approach. In January I get together with a women’s group and we spend time creating a personal vision board. We use pictures from magazines or other materials to represent some things we are hoping and striving for in the coming year. 

My past vision boards have contained not only goals, they have also depicted a motto or belief that speaks to me. 

One of the things on my board for 2020 was to finish my book, which I did. For 2021 there was a line of advice I really wanted to heed: trust yourself, she will listen. That is the year I courageously listened to my heart and changed jobs after three decades with the same medical group. It was a scary move, yet I do believe a wise choice for me. In 2022 I wanted to ride a bike more often, which I did, as well as read more books, which I have. 

As I looked over my past boards, there are also things that haven’t happened, but I don’t judge them as failures. It could be that my goal has changed or that there were factors beyond my control that prevented it from occurring. Perhaps it just wasn’t the right time for what I was aiming for. 

I don’t know yet what I will put on this year’s board. I just know at the end of the year, I want to step out of it looking back and appreciating any growth and knowledge I will have gained.  That’s a vision I can focus on.