Crazy Little Thing Called Life

Life really is a crazy thing.  

The last couple of years has brought about so many changes, realizations and experiences.  From the loss of my sister, to the opening of my coaching and speaking business (Woman UP),  to the launching of kids into the world, to the transitions of my own aging... each new thing has brought a new realization.

Today, on the anniversary of my sister's passing - who was the same age I am now, I am feeling reflective about the things that I have learned about life.  So, bear with me, humor me, or reflect with me while I share.

What 45 years has taught me about life: 

• It takes you on twists and turns that seldom fit into your plan. 
• It brings you joys and challenges that you would never expect.  
• It is painful in ways that break you down, but also in ways that allow you to be rebuilt stronger.
• It provides opportunity for joy and service - IF you open your heart to those opportunities. 
• It is intrusive when you choose to let it happen TO you, but a bit more polite when YOU happen to it. 
• It is both happy and sad. 
• It doesn't happen solely on the mountaintops or in the depths - it happens mostly at the horizon. 
• It provides you with what you need, and what you don't. 
• It is mixed up, but so ordered at the same time. 
• It's full of colors blended in every way possible, but also starkly black and white. 
• It rolls on whether we want it to or not. 
• It is turned upside down, but always rights itself. 
• It is either suffocating or liberating - depending on what we CHOOSE it to be. 
• It is individual to each of us, yet so dependent upon others. 
• It brings and it takes. 
• It WILL bring moments, events, and experiences that you will never understand.
• It will bring you wisdom if you listen to it. 
• It is unexpected but expectant of us. 
• It resists being controlled, yet requires us to take control.
• It has its own balance - regardless of how we try to define it. 
• It runs in a time structure that is known only to it - and no matter how hard we try to schedule it, it doesn't change its structure. 
• It shows us, ultimately the things that are important. 
• It craves being cherished. 
• It despises being wasted. 
• It wants to be stamped with our unique marks and purpose. 

Ultimately, what what this list shows me  is that "existing" is easy. - that's just a matter of showing up and breathing.  BUT LIVING.... LIFE... it's complicated, it's messy, it's joyful, it's painful, it's necessary, and it's worth it.  We can take charge of it, but we can't always control it.  That's OK.  We just need to honor it by bringing our best to it. Life really is a crazy thing.

Are you honoring life by bringing your best to it?

That Hill Is Just a Better Vantage Point!

Living here in the beautiful Desert South West, there are a lot of places to do nice day hikes. Some of them are technically pretty easy, and some of them are very challenging. Some are long trails with slow inclines while others are short but steep inclines. Still others fall someplace between the two. All of them take a lot of endurance in stamina or strength. And all have a reward at the pinnacle.




Do you ever have those days that it feels like every step is like climbing up a mountain? You know the kind of day...

The kind of day when it feels like you are hiking a long trail with a heavy pack on your back. Each step you take physically feels like you are battling the hill, trudging your way slowly up it, step by step. Your is pack weighted down by too little sleep, spreading yourself too thin, having to be five different places at once, and juggling all of you day to day responsibilities to make the climb any easier.

Or there is the kind of day when it is not physical exhaustion, but mental exhaustion that is making your traverse difficult. The tasks in life that you are facing - taxes, putting kids through college, meeting the deadlines at work, planning your next career move, feel like boulders in the path that you must make your way over. The thought of taking the next step is overwhelming and over-weighting.

Then there is the kind of day that the uphill trek is slowed and complicated by emotional exhaustion. The dealings of relational life send rocks tumbling down that we must dodge or catch so we can continue on. Rifts in family or marriage, sickness, emotional stressors of raising kids careen at us causing our ascent up the hill to seem near impossible.

Whatever the kind of day it is, we look at the mountains we are hiking up and you get so caught up in the elevation and path that we must climb to get to the top that we just can't seem to wrap our brains around how we are going to get there. To get to the top, we must dig deep from the bottom of our souls, carry on even when we feel like giving up, and climb even when the muscles of our wills are crying out from the pain of being worked to its limit.

But take heart.... There is a reward. 

At the top of each mountain is a pinnacle. That pinnacle holds the gift of a panoramic view of the valley we have ascended from.

Every hill we traverse has the reward of a new vantage point. If we digest and really reflect on our journey to the top of the hill, we see our world from a point of clarity and distance. Yes, we may be tired and need a moment to catch our breath and let our bodies rest. But in that moment our eyes are open to what lies ahead of us as well as the accomplishment of what we have overcome to stand at the top of the climb. Our resolve is strengthened, but our hearts are softened as we see what is possible, and feel for those that are struggling up the trail.

How do you see the hills in your life? Have you let them strengthen you or defeat you?

Go And Get Your Own Yardstick!

How Do You Measure Up? 

I recently had one of those conversations with my daughter… the kind that just breaks your heart.  As soon as we started the conversation, I was transported back to times when I felt the same way that she was describing.  I could empathize, sympathize and hear my heart crack with each word.This is what she was feeling –

 That She Was Not Good Enough.

She felt like she had to work her tail off, and still not see the results that came to others so easily when they worked at those things.  To her, she did not measure up to what others were doing . That was tough on her.  In her mind, her value and importance was based on achievements that others were accomplishing. She couldn’t see how amazing she truly is because she was measuring by other’s yardsticks.

As her mom I comforted her and let her know how brightly she shines, regardless of what a result was in a particular task. I reminded her that she is an amazingly artistic, creative, and entrepreneurial kid.  She has an uncanny way of figuring out how to get things done. Although she is in the height and throws of teendom, she has a worldly ability that is far beyond her years.  She is brilliant, radiant, and kind hearted.  It’s almost absurd that she can be all these things, yet still feel like she falls short. I could say that is lack of life experience or maturity, but we all know that life experience and age has nothing to do with it.

Admit It-  You’ve Felt This

By a raise of hand, click of a mouse or a share of this post (ok… had to get some shameless promotion in there somewhere) how many of you have felt this way?

I know that more days than not, not being “good enough” pops into my thinking.  Some days it is a hindrance that I can step over, kick to the curb, or sweep under the rug.  Other days it is a full blown obstacle. I get so caught up in the size of other people’s yardsticks that I think mine pales in comparison. “ My job wasn’t as “important” as theirs. I “just” made this contribution, but they made “that” one.  They are more “put together” than I will ever be. “ Whether it is a conscious though or a subconscious feeling, there are days when it is hard to realize the things that my yardstick has measured.

Time to Re-Measure

When we are feeling this way, or when our children are feeling this way, it is vital that we realize that we should never measure ourselves according to what others have done.  Each person is an individual and gifted in different ways.  Even if two people share the same type of strength, so many factors go into how that strength plays out, that how those strengths manifest could be very different. One persons yardstick may have measured a mile, but another’s may have measured 1 yard 1,760 times. Is either one less accomplished than the other? Don’t both show strength and tenacity, even though it showed in different ways?

Get Your Own Yardstick

Next time you are tempted to use your friends, neighbor’s, or society's yardstick – do yourself a favor. Go and get your own.  You will be much happier when you own it, keep it, and see it for what it is - a measure of you from the floor on where you stand.  Not a measure of you from where someone else stands.

What do you think? Do you compare yourself with others to see your own value? What is one area of life in which you need to get your own yardstick? 

Goldie Locks and the Three Pairs...Plus a Tattoo

What sort of boundaries do you set for your kids? Are you the type of parent that sets no boundaries and lets them do whatever they want to? Or are you the type of parent that dictates and controls what your child will do? Are you somewhere in the middle?

I think I am somewhere in the middle.

Finding the right boundaries is tough. My goal has been to give my daughters the freedom to express themselves and figure out who they are, yet teach them what they need to know to be a productive member of society. My husband and I give them what we call freedom within boundaries. There are set guidelines until they are 18...and yes, we have had the "When you are 18 you can do whatever you want" discussion many times.

We give them some leeway on things like coloring their hair (at 15 they can as long as it stays in the realm of natural color.) No tattoos before 18, but they can pierce their ears and wear what ever earrings they want...as long as there is only 1 hole in each ear. They are free to find their own style of dress, in what ever genre or mix of genres they want as long as they realize that mom and dad have veto power if it is too revealing. Overall we let them try to figure out who they are and where they fit within their peer groups.

There are things that we have held firm on. We have always expected them to be compassionate to others. We have always expected the to learn from mistakes. We have always expected them to do the things that are of good character such as taking personal responsibility for their actions, to give their best effort, and to honor commitments they have made. Now of course as kids, these things don't always happen - it's hard enough to get this right 100% of the time as an adult let alone as a child. But when they don't get it right, we have let them take the the natural consequences that come along with it, and help them to figure out how to do it differently the next time.

We are not naive....we know that at 18 they still have some self discovery to explore and the boundaries, regardless of where we set them disappear. That is how they create their own identities separate from us. So when our oldest daughter began an onslaught of hair colors (cherry red and black, black with bright pink, platinum blond, and countless others) we knew she was still finding herself. When her ears went from one little diamond in each to 3 or 4, still self discovery. When the tattoo came.....

Bottom line, no matter what anyone thinks of her hair color, her piercing or her tattoo, she is a successful and productive person. She is responsible, honorable, committed, compassionate, dedicated, loving, and faithful. She has become what we hoped for her to be- independent, self motivated, and able to function in the world we live in.

As a parent, I know that the boundaries I set, or don't set, are because I love my kids. I want the best for my kids. I want to shelter them from the things I can shelter them, yet prepare them for the world that they will one day be living in on their own. My duty as a parent is to teach them right from wrong. It is also to teach them to make good decisions, have compassion for others, and to be independent. Regardless of what they are, the boundaries are there to help my children discover and become who they are meant to be.

By the way...her hair adorable. The earrings.... beautiful. The tattoo.... it is of her favorite Psalm - inspirational.

I....Love.... My.... Husband.

I know all you marrieds out there probably say this all the time.

"I love my husband!"

This is not a new concept. It is not strange. It is not unusual to profess this - maybe even shout it from rooftops or mountain tops.

"I LOVE MY HUSBAND!"

It is even common to express it as a measure of gratitude or excitement.

"I love my husband!"

But I want to express it from the bottom of the deepest depths of my soul.

"I......love......my......husband."

No exclamations, not as a gesture to thank him for taking out the trash or mowing the lawn, not even as that routine statement that those words can become after years and years of marriage - simply as an expression from the innermost part of me.

Isn't that the place that love should come from? Shouldn't it be from that place so deep inside that the line between self and the other person is blurred?

Now, I'll be the first to admit, I like how love makes me feel. But,I believe that love is not only about how I feel. It is not primarily about me or my needs being met. It is not the material things that my husband can give me. It is not about the security that comes from always having another to bear the load of life. Nor is it about reaching goals and milestones together.

What I believe it is about is loving another selflessly. It is about supporting the other person to truly know who they are as an individual. It is about giving the other person encouragement and room to grow and become whole. It is about helping to bring their dreams and aspirations to a place of reality. It is about compassion, forgiveness, compromise and understanding. It is about loving them so fully that you don't remember where the line is that separates you from them.

I believe that love is about everything that my husband has shown me.

What is love to you?

The Long, Long, Long Run

This is how Saturday mornings begin for my husband and me....

5am: Alarm rings playing some of my favorite music
5:02am: Alarm still playing some of my favorite music
5:07am: Alarm still playing some of my favorite music, however a different song than was originally playing
5:10am: I stumble out of bed, throw my hair in a pony tail, put on my running clothes and shoes, just in time to turn of my husband's 5:15 alarm.
5:25am: We both end up in the kitchen, miraculously avoiding stumbling down the 17 stairs that separate our room from the first floor.
5:40am: We fill our water bottles, grab our hats, sunglasses, and i-pods, and then make our way to the car to drive to our favorite running spot along the canal.
6am: We arrive at the canal after a 20 minute ride in sleep deprived induced silence, fire up the i-pods, check the shoes, and hit the dirt for the long, long, long run.

My husband and I run a 9 mile trail along the canal every Saturday morning.

You may be wondering why we do this, especially on a morning that we could be sleeping in. We do it because we are training to run a half-marathon on our 17th anniversary in January.

Now I don't run with nearly the efficiency, speed, or ease as my husband does. In order for him to run with me, he has to make adjustments. Because his stride is longer than mine, he has to adjust his steps so he is not running ahead of me. I don't have the same speed that he does, so he has to slow down his pace for me. When I am feeling like I have hit the "wall", he not only has to keep himself going, but also take on the role of being my cheerleader and encouraging me to continue. Conversely, I have to make adjustments for him too. My pace increases when we run together as I work to keep up with him. My steps become longer, more efficient and more fluid as subconsciously my body mimics his body movement. I become more self assured and confident in my ability to press on as he reminds me that I do have it in me to keep going.

I have to admit that it isn't always easy running together. There are times when I feel badly because I am holding him back and slowing his pace. I am worried that he may grow frustrated with me for being a burden- that he may not want to finish the race by my side. Sometimes, I feel that I am at my limit, and that gentle nudge of encouragement feels like it will push me over the edge.

But then, inevitably, he senses my feelings and frustrations. With just the right words - those he has learned through navigating 17 years of marriage to me, he helps me push just a little further towards my maximum potential. He assures me that he is in it for the long haul, every step of the way. He is there by my side, to cross the finish line with me at the end of the race.

In many ways, training for this race is a lot like our marriage. We each have different abilities, personalities, likes and dislikes. We have some viewpoints that are in line with each other and others that are in conflict. Through compromise and understanding, we travel the path of our marriage much in the way that we are training to run the half-marathon. We compliment each other in a way that allows us both to be the best we can be as individuals, as well as the best that we can be as one body in marriage.

We are as different as individuals as we are in our running abilities. But in the end, we have common goals and principles. Staying focused on our common goals keeps us strong on our journey, this long, long, long, run.