The Reality of Ripples

When a new year comes, some people like to choose a word for themselves that will frame the year ahead. I have never been one to be so proactive and seek a “word of the year” for myself, but this year the word found me.

My friend Suzanne writes a beautiful blog, and one of her posts placed the word right in my lap. She had written a piece about the tragic loss of her friend’s son. In her beautiful way, Suzanne honored the young man and shared that, “Like a pebble skipped on the lake that Jake adored, his life created ripples that will continue forever.”

There it was.

Ripples.

 

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Now, I have often used the word as a way to describe how the actions we take cause effects, etc., but sometimes when a word is placed in a certain context, it just jumps off the page and changes you.

Ripples.

It made me think about how I wanted to be more mindful of life’s ripples. Both the ripples that I create with my actions, and the ripples that touch me through others’ actions. It made me think and feel.

Interestingly enough, Suzanne and I became friends through someone else’s ripple effect. Our mutual friend Kathleen connected us, and though Kathleen has found her way Home, her touch continues to ripple into the lives of many, many people. Kathleen left ripples that, like Jake, will continue forever.

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The film It’s a Wonderful Life has made its way into several of my posts, and I love it dearly. I think one of the many reasons it is my favorite movie is that from a very young age it helped me understand the power of ripples. If George Bailey had never been born, life would have been drastically different for many people—people he never understood he had an effect on because the ripples of life undulate long past our immediate surroundings.

And so, in 2014, my guiding word is ripples. What am I doing that is putting in motion ripples of kindness and compassion? What should I think twice about because it might ripple on in a way that could cause hurt? What will I do with my days that will reach out and leave someone feeling a little bit better about life?

My words and actions matter.

So do yours.

And so I will be even more thankful for the ripples of kindness shown to me. The sweet words from a friend who wants me to know I count. The way it feels when someone actually listens if I risk going beyond “I’m fine” when they ask how I am.

I will cherish the people in my life who truly connect with me in both giving and receiving—where it’s not just a one-way street that can leave me feeling as though I am the only one who cares.

I won’t forget how it felt when a friend and coworker made a meal for my family when my mom was in the hospital or the words of concern and care from another even though her own life is tossed on its head.

 

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So often we can leave positive ripples by just being present and showing someone that they matter. And then what? How might that ripple continue on? We all know of stories about how someone offered care at a moment that, unbeknownst to them, was the breaking point for the other person, and the help came at a critical turning point.

We simply do not know all that others are dealing with. Our simple acts of kindness might leave more of an impact than we could have ever known.

A very dear friend of mine was a teacher for thirty years. She is one of the most caring people I’ve ever known. I can’t imagine how far her ripple extends in the lives she has touched both in and out of the classroom. I truly believe that for generations to come, her impact will be felt.

 

 

She is just one example of those I know who, if Clarence came down and showed them how the world would be without them, it would be a much sadder place.

Ripples…big or small…they extend out to the world. Who knows how far those ripples will undulate or where they might reach, but they matter.

God has each of us on this earth for our own personal, special reason. And though I’m still striving to understand mine, while I’m on the journey, I hope I am creating my own ripples of love and understanding…

one

little

pebble

of care

at a time.

 

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If This Doesn’t Make You Smile, You Have No Soul

Okay, that may be a little harsh, but if this doesn’t warm the cockles of your heart, then you just may be cockleless.

For today’s Frabjous Friday offering, let me introduce you to Mei Lun and Mei Huan…panda bears that start out teensy and pink and in 100 days’ time grow into amazing little panda cubs.

It doesn’t get much cuter than this, people. Enjoy.

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I Envy the Box Lady

green eyeI had a conversation this weekend that I must admit brought out great envy in me. Like if envy were people, I’d be China.

The green-eyed monster flared up when I was having a conversation with a woman I work with part-time. She was explaining to me how she had been working creatively…for hours and hours. Hours and hours, people. In the brief time that I’ve sat down to write this post, my son (home from school today because of the damn polar vortex) has interrupted me somewhere near 97 times.

Granted, she is retired (though very active), so her life tugs are understandably much different than mine. But she was explaining to me how she “needed something to do” with her time, and she ended up discovering this passion for designing beautiful boxes that are then used for care packages at the organization she and I are both part-timing at. [The place is called Phil’s Friends, and its mission is to bring hope to those affected by cancer. If you’ve got a hankering to do something with a few bucks and/or your time, go to their website and learn about the wonderful things they do.]

The work she does is lovely—fun and colorful, and just the right spirit to add to the loving care packages.

A sample of the Box Lady's work.
A sample of the Box Lady’s work.

She described to me how her kitchen table is splayed with boxes and she just gets lost in her work for hours at a stretch. I am amazed at the effort she puts into them. It is clearly her passion, and it brings her great joy.

I want to be like the Box Lady.

In my juggle-struggle world, I have forgotten what it is like to have time to fill. And if I do decide to wrap things up on any given night, about the most I can muster is watching TV and wiping the drool from my chin. Something tells me you might be able to relate.

I realize that the seasons of life offer different opportunities, but I could really use some focus time in this current season of my life. I want to have Box Lady experiences now.

I want to have a “snow” (aka “extreme cold”) day where instead of thinking of the HaveTos that need doing, I can immerse myself in an endeavor that brings me joy. Even if only for a little while.

And though I do make time to do things that are not just “on the list,” one of my biggest challenges is how I feel while doing them. For instance, as a writer, I do make time to write this blog. I could have more time for other HaveTos if I didn’t, but I need to write, so I do. But while I’m taking the time to do so, I keep battling all the other HaveTos that keep poking their way into my thoughts and making me feel like I need to stop. “Hurry up, Lisa. You are wasting your time. You need to get back to _____ and ____ and ____.”

I’d like to take that nasty little voice of harping and guilt and choke the life blood out of it. Yeah, I’d like five minutes alone in a room with that little voice. I’d really give her a what-for. Oh, wait. That voice is inside my head. All. The. Time.

I need to find a way to create Box Lady experiences without that little voice squelching the good that comes from it. Now.

My soul needs it. It craves it.

The clock is ticking.

“Someday” isn’t good enough—because there is no “someday” guarantee. There is only today. (As cold and claustrophobic as this one might be.)

There is only today.

Seuss Today quote

I’d Like a Big Hug with a Side of Fries

A couple weeks ago my Frabjous Friday post offered up a sweet hug, and today’s post highlights a young man who is all about the hugs.

Enjoy a brief video of Tim Harris–a restaurateur who just happens to have Down Syndrome.  And a whole lotta heart.

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A Time Coma

Attributed to http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Alain_rHaving spent my freshmen year of college at a Big Ten campus where parties abounded, I had no need for a fake ID—there was always something going on somewhere. But sophomore year led me to living on campus in Chicago, where tons of wonderful establishments needed an ID for entry. On my first night out, though, I didn’t need one. Here’s why.

My new co-ed friends told me there was this “must go” all-ages party at a bar called Frankie’s—no ID needed—so…come on! And I did. But when we got there, sure enough there was a bouncer at the front door. Some of my new friends were 21, and the rest had IDs that said they were…I was the only thing in the way of all of us having a good time. Well, hell, I wasn’t going to let that stop us! So I walked up to the bouncer and handed him my driver’s license that showed I was 19.

I had no idea how I was going to play it.

He looked at it. Then he looked at me. Then he looked back down at it again. Finally, he raised his head, squinted, and said, “Uh…this says you’re only 19.”

“I know,” I replied. “…I was in a coma.”

Now, I don’t know where this came from, but out my mouth it flew. Like somehow time doesn’t count on your license if you’re unconscious?? This made no sense. If this wasn’t a sure way to get pointed to the curb, I don’t know what was. Apparently, though, my cocksure way of saying it threw the bouncer, and he looked at me and almost challenged me with his next words of wisdom. “Oh, yeah? For how long?” he asked, studying me.

What? Was there still a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel?? “I don’t know,” I said with irritation. “I was in a coma…”

My friends were off to the side watching in quiet amazement wondering what could possibly be the next round in this goofy volley of words.

I’m not sure what was going through this guy’s head—confusion, bad math, or what—but he gave me one more intense look and said, “Well, okay, but…just this once.” And…he let me through. My friends and I went on our merry way to have some serious fun, and the story lived on as legend.

After that experience, I realized I needed an ID if I wanted to continue going out. After all, how many times is the “I was in a coma” line going to work?!

[Side note: kids if you’re reading this, please know that a fake ID is not a good choice to make. It’s kind of actually illegal. There’s plenty of fun for you to have in other ways. (And they make driver’s licenses way too hard to alter these days!)]

But this story is not about my fake ID. (Maybe that’s for another time?)

Indulge me for a moment as I touch on something metaphorically here—and pardon me if I go Existentialist for a few. In thinking about this story, it made me think how we can sometimes let ourselves slip into a time coma.

clockTime flies…in epochs, really. Perhaps it is because I am getting older and life is posing so many different kinds of challenges that I feel that the swirl of life is becoming a black hole.

Chunks of time just go…and I look back and think what am I doing? Where did the lost time go? Where is life taking me? How do I wake up and slow things down so that life doesn’t get sucked back into that damn black hole?

Okay. So maybe that’s a bit of a heady extrapolation to take from my silly story. Maybe I should have just kept it at sharing the tale and hoping you got a kick out of it.

But if you ever feel like the swirl of life is really more like a vortex, I hope it helps you to know you are not alone. Let’s be time coma survivors together.

Meet Mr. Google

I love reference librarians. From the time I was a kid, I would go up to the reference desk of my local library, ask a question…and get an answer. How awesome is that? Sometimes the answer was, “Let’s go see if it’s in such-and-such book,” but there was always the thirst for knowledge and the desire to help.

As a teacher, I tried to communicate to my students that being smart didn’t necessarily mean you had all the answers, but that you knew how to find them.

And then along came Google.

Google is like a reference librarian on giNORmous steroids.

If you know me, you know that I might have a teensy issue with whipping out my smartphone and Googling something that I am wondering about. I get taken to task for it…until someone else wants to know the answer to something. Then Mr. Google is cool.

And what if there really was a Mr. Google?

It might look something like this:

Poor guy. So many crazy searches to deal with.

And what exactly happens to all that “stuff” floating out there? What if Mr. Google was really…Big Brother? …watching you?

Maybe you should Google that.

[Email subscribers: please remember you will have to click through to my blog to view the clip.]