My son is a runner. I’d like to say “just like his mom,” but it’s more accurately just like his (former triathlete) dad. It makes me happy that he loves to run because it’s not only a great way to exercise but a great way to get a clear head when life is cloudy. Continue reading “Run YOUR Race”
According to Matthew McConaughey—or maybe Einstein—time is relative. Having seen Interstellar over the weekend, I am again challenged to wrap my brain around what this means. (I think I need a brain yoga class—with so many things requiring me to stretch my brain, I’m in serious jeopardy of pulling a muscle.) (Also, in a completely unrelated parenthetical comment, I must admit that while McConaughey was piloting that spacecraft, I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d rather be driving a Lincoln.)
So…the relativity of time. While the academic version of it puts time in a fourth dimension, I just want to deal with the relativity of good old linear time today.
If you’ve ever seen the movie City Slickers, perhaps you’ll remember Mitch, Billy Crystal’s character, giving a brief summary of life:
In classic Crystal style, he is a huge Doug Downer for those innocent middle schoolers. It’s a funny bit, but at the same time—depending on how old you are—you can’t help but wince at the kernels of truth in his rant. For the 40s—my decade—he states, “you grow a little pot belly, you grow another chin. The music starts to get too loud; one of your old girlfriends from high school becomes a grandmother.”
Sigh. Thankfully, while the others already apply, the music hasn’t grown too loud for me. Just ask my son who occasionally needs to tell me to turn down the music. Mama still likes it loud. (And, no—I am not yet hard of hearing!)
There is another part of the movie that resonates with me, though, and that’s the desire to have a “do over.”
In the movie, Phil (Daniel Stern) is at a crossroads in his life and states, “My life is over! I’m almost 40 years old, and I’m at the end of my life!” Doug Downer, meet your brother.
If you happen to be someone who is exactly where you thought you would be at this point in your life, I commend you. God bless. I have a feeling you are in the minority, though.
Many of us, like Phil, aren’t exactly where we envisioned ourselves.
To cheer up his friend, Mitch offers this hope: “You remember when we were kids, and we were playing ball, and we hit the ball over the fence out of bounds, and we yelled, DO OVER?…Your life is a do over. You’ve got a clean slate.”
Of course, it’s not as simple as that, we all know, but the idea of second (or third, or fourth, or more) chances to create yourself anew is powerful—and scary. While it shines hope, it doesn’t necessarily come easy.
I’m in “do over” phase right now. And this is where the whole linear time issue fires up. Some days I feel like it’s simply too late for me to start over. How much time do I have left? (Doug Downer, meet your sister.) But other days I am well aware that all I have—and all anyone else has—is…today. Just today. So whether I’m in my 40s and trying to carve out a new life or I’m in my 20s, the one thing I know I have in the spectrum of my life is…today.
There is no difference.
True, if you create a timeline of my life, this new life chapter will be shorter than if I had started writing it earlier, but all I have is today’s page. There is no going back and editing. There’s only today’s blank page.
Every day is a mini do-over of its own.
If today was a piece of poop on a stick, tomorrow doesn’t have to be—and if it is, well then the next day offers the same fresh chance for change.
So if you, like me, find yourself struggling at times, wondering whether your life choices screwed things up or possibly made things better, remember that time is relative.
Within Mitch’s rant from the clip above, he says, “Value this time in your life, kids, cause this is the time in your life when you still have your choices.”
Sorry, Mitch, but I disagree. Yes, things get way more complicated with responsibilities and commitments as you get older, but…we still have our choices. The impact may be farther reaching, but…we still have our choices.
Hindsight may have us kicking ourselves that we didn’t make certain choices sooner (or at all), but that does nothing to help write today’s page.
This is something I need to constantly remind myself about. I am not too old for a do over. And if I make it to 80 and I want yet another do over, I won’t be too old then, either.
What matters is the DO in do over. Otherwise…it’s just…over.
So fill up today’s page as best you can. And remember, if you don’t like what you wrote for today, tomorrow offers a brand new page.
Among the many flaws and weaknesses I have, there is one that masquerades as a positive quality—at least that’s how I’ve seen it for most of my life. It is only within the last few years that I realize that it isn’t a sign of strength but more accurately a sign of stupidity.
You see, I’m not very good at asking for help. I like to take care of things myself. Asking for help is a sign of weakness, of inability…of failure.
Stupid, right? Yeah, I know.
Unfortunately, that’s how I’ve been wired since I was a kid, so seeing it for what it is has really taken me some time. (Or maybe I’m just a really slow learner.) And then changing it? Well, that evolution is still underway.
But let me share a recent lesson in my progress.
The other day I was on “band carpool” duty. My son’s school shares a band with another school, so one day a week, we have to get up extra early, drive farther out to the other school, have class, then drive the kids back in time for their “real” school day to begin. It pretty much sucks. (Support the Arts in school, people!)
My husband does this every week…and I am very grateful. But last week he needed me to do it, and I did. All went just fine…until I forgot to turn my headlamps off. It was bright enough daylight that I didn’t see that they were still on while I sat in the car with the motor off and waited for the kids. It was very cold…and therefore didn’t take much for my battery to die.
Yep. As I went to start the van to get it warm for the kids, it sputtered and whined and then passed out.
Let’s say my language was colorful as I swallowed my disbelief and tried to understand what this meant in my little world. No van. Need to get kids back to school in a tight timeframe. Freezing. Idiot.
Actually, the idiot part happened right out of the gate.
I called my husband and shared the situation with him. He offered to drive out and help, but I knew that meant a lot of time to add onto the solution. It dawned on me that maybe I could ask one of the other parents to be my booster car.
You see, I am very well versed at jumping cars. Being the “I’ll take care of it” person that I am, I’ve done it many times both for myself and others. The only help I need is…another car.
And that was my problem here. My plan was to get my cables out and ready and wait for one of the other parents I knew to show up. (They don’t sit and wait but return at pickup.)
I wanted to save time and do all that I could to be ready, so I got the cables and then popped my hood.
As soon as I lifted the hood and propped it up, the man who was helping direct the school buses for that school came over. He was wearing a yellow safety vest and a kind smile. “What do you need?” he asked. I told him I needed a jump, and he grabbed his walkie talkie and started to tell the guy on the other end to get the cables. I showed him that I already had those, and he smiled and said, “Well, give me a second!”
Indeed, within seconds, he had his truck over and his assistant and he were hooking up the cables. (I must admit that I quietly intervened and changed what the assistant did since he put them on in the wrong order.) The van popped right off within a few seconds.*
Problem solved.
We made it to school right on time.
(As it turns out, of the two parents I was looking for to help, one didn’t come that day and the other was running late. So my planned solution would have at best made us quite late.)
By lifting my hood, I inadvertently put the call out for help…and received it.
I may have had the cables and the knowledge, but I couldn’t do it on my own. I needed someone’s help. And I was not weak for needing it. The reality is I simply couldn’t do it on my own no matter what—I needed another car.
Sometimes help is “needing another car.” Not being less than or incapable. Not being weak or not enough. Just not having all the Xs and Ys to solve the equation.
I’m still learning to embrace that…rewiring takes time. But I am learning. One of the things that helps me grow is remembering how I feel when I am able to help others. I don’t feel like I’m stronger or more capable or anything like that—I feel grateful to be able to help. I feel needed.
When I don’t allow others to help me, I am denying them that feeling. That’s lame. Remembering this pushes me to be better about asking for help.
As a work in progress, I am growing to accept that it’s okay to prop my hood up and signal that I need help—that I can’t do this on my own. That I need someone to be my booster car. One jump at a time, I am getting there.
*Turns out that the man in the yellow vest and the kind smile is actually the principal of the school. Seeing him help with the buses and then with my car, I never would have guessed it–and he never let on. Class act.
On January 1, I did not leave the house and stayed out of trouble. On January 2, I was pulled over by a police officer. On January 3, my van had a brief relationship with a cement wall.
This is my story.
For those of you who follow me (thank you!), you know that I have been looking forward to the proverbial leaf turning of 2015. The years 2013-14 have kind of been jagwads to me and my family, and…I’m looking for a new start.
But…does this sound like a new beginning to you? Or does it seem like more of the same crappola?
Well, of course, it’s not as simple as that, now is it? Let me tell you my story…
Just a week or so ago my son and I were driving and talking. He noticed someone on their phone and said, “I thought that was against the law?” to which I replied, “Yeah, well it looks like one of those laws that aren’t enforced because I see people on their phones all the time.”
Flash forward to January 2. I am running very late to get my son from a friend’s house. I decide that I should call the mom who is hosting and ask her to please have my guy ready to walk out the door because I’m only two minutes away. Though I have a Bluetooth, I rarely have it in because I’m not the greatest fan of talking on the phone, so when I make the call, I am not hands free. Cue sirens. So much for the law not being enforced…
I drop the phone as I tell the mom with a colorful word or two “I think I’m getting pulled over for being on the phone!” I can hear her saying, “What?…What??” but I realize that now is probably not the time to finish the call, so I hang up.
The officer approaches, tells me I was driving while using a handheld device, and asks for license and insurance. I tell him I am sorry, that I’m running late, yada, yada, and he simply holds his hand out for the information he asked for. He then disappears into his vehicle.
Now, if you’re like me and let’s say, maybe have a little experience getting pulled over now and then for maybe speeding…you know that the longer the cop sits in his car, the stronger the reality that he is writing you a ticket. I hoped that maybe my sobless sob story might be tugging at him, but…tick…tock…he’s not coming back quickly.
Doing an amazingly effortless job of mentally kicking myself, I decide instead to say a prayer. I pray that if there is any way I could have this end without my having to pay for a ticket, I would super appreciate it. We so do not have money right now to be throwing after stupid.
Another moment of waiting passes, and then the officer walks up to me and asks, “Do you know any cops in this town?” I look at him a little confused and say that I do. He asks me who, and I give him the name of an old friend. “Ha! Just give me a couple minutes.” And then he walks back to his vehicle.
I sit there wondering…what just happened??
Another two minutes later, he walks up and hands me a warning. He explains that while he was calling in my name on the radio, my friend heard it and said, “Wait! Hold up!” and I was then graced with a warning. My officer friend then drives up beside me and smiles. I am profuse in my gratitude, and he is gracious in his response.
It was only then that I couldn’t hold back my emotion…because it sure felt to me that my prayer was answered in an extremely serendipitous way. What are the odds that this man would be on duty? That he would catch my name being called in? As we who watch Downton Abbey would say, I was gobsmacked.
While driving the next day, I couldn’t help but think that maybe that episode was a little message from God that though things can and will be hard, sometimes a tiny miraculous ray of light shines through. I felt like this was 2015 turning the corner for me.
And then I kissed a cement wall with the rear corner of my van.
It’s a long story that involves backing down a ramp, but I won’t bore you with it because this post is already near 800 words, and I haven’t gotten to my main point yet.
It was easy to fall right back into feeling the tug of the negative. It pulled hard on me. Lots of self-disgust bubbled up. It’s the same crappy karma of 2014 after all, isn’t it?
Or…is it?
I am really striving to see even this “holey van” incident as a message that things will most definitely continue to be messy…but…I’m okay. We’ll be okay. The van has many battle scars, and this is yet another one. But…it’s okay. The incident happened while I was on my way to something new and exciting that I’ve begun…and that didn’t stop just because I ran into a cement wall.
In fact, I’ve thought about making the hole a day brightener in its own crazy way…
It is so easy to get sucked into the negative—especially when I too often feel surrounded by it. But I’m not giving up that easy.
As I shared last week, my word for 2015 is journey, and I find it ironic that these two crazy incidents from the first three days of the year involve me traveling.
It appears I’ve already hit a couple of minor speed bumps on my journey!
But I’m still moving forward. And my little prayer answered resonates deeply within me that I am not journeying alone.
What is it with a new year? I mean, it’s merely a way of marking time…there is no literal change going on, except perhaps the hanging of a new calendar. Yet it matters, doesn’t it? For some reason, there is a sense of new beginnings…a new chapter…a clean slate…a chance to change the lackadaisical flow of things or corral the madness of the overwhelm of life.
I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get started.
I know a lot of people who like to hang onto their Christmas decorations for as long as possible. Me? As far as I’m concerned, they can come down on the 26th. Well…I’m not quite that brutal, but I am definitely eager to pack them up around the New Year. I like to get it over and done with so that I can face the 2-3 bleak months of Chicago weather without holiday clutter. Well, that’s not exactly it—I’m just ready to move on.
And I am so ready to move on from 2014 (and ’13, for that matter).
Last year was the first time I chose a word for the year as a kind of theme to guide my heart. I chose the word ripples because I felt a strong connection to understanding the way life and the choices we make ripple out into the world and impact other people. As it turned out, my word choice resonated throughout the year in spectacular fashion—in both good and bad ways. In ways I hoped for and in ways I didn’t know were coming. Diplomatically speaking, 2014 was a challenging year. And I’m not too sorry to say goodbye to it. In fact, I am currently handing 2014 its hat and showing it to the door. Adios, asshole. (Oops. Did I just type that out loud? It appears that I might have.)
My word for 2015 popped into my heart without invitation. It just showed up and makes complete sense. 2015’s word for me is journey. (And I don’t mean the band. Though their song titles of “Don’t Stop Believin’” and “Open Arms” certainly work with my intended meaning.)
I used to read this comic strip years ago called Sally Forth. It was about a woman and her family’s daily life. I liked the reality of it, and I also liked the play on her name—to sally forth means to energetically set out on a mission or adventure—and for Sally, her life was the adventure. To me, the phrase is similar to raising a fist and crying “Onward!” when what you are looking at is an uphill journey.
The journey my heart calls me to is both professional and personal. I have a lot of ground to cover. So far, it has indeed been uphill, but I am rallying my internal troops to make the climb. From the time I was a little kid, I’ve always loved the song “Put One Foot in Front of the Other” from Santa Claus Is Comin’ to Town—it’s a great way of reminding us that getting started only takes one step. And then another. And another.
And I am working on taking my next right steps to make the journey of 2015 (and beyond!) a meaningful and fulfilling one. I’ve got my metaphorical hiking boots on, and I’m ready to sally forth!
How about you? Are you finding that you, too, are on a pivotal journey? Or ready to begin one? Or ready to start thinking about being ready to begin one? Well, at some point, we’ve just got to get that foot ready to put itself in front of the other. If I can do it, you can do it. And if there is a stumble on the journey, I know from all of my past trips and falls that I will get back up (maybe catch my breath) and get my feet moving again…and you will, too. We have to…because the alternative sucks. Staying down and licking any wounds means you remain right where you fell…which probably isn’t that good of a place to hang out.
So journey with me. Not alongside me because we are probably on different paths—but sallying forth to our next life adventure.
I’m so ready for it that I just want to say to 2015…
“Let’s get it on…”
May your New Year be a blessed one—and may the journey that you walk be filled with grace, joy, kindness, compassion, and love.
Happy New Year!
Just a few days before Christmas…and I think if one more person asks me “are you all ready for Christmas?” I just may have to clock them upside the head. Of course, it’s a pretty reasonable question at this point, but since I’ve been getting asked that by various people since about a minute and a half after Thanksgiving, I’m a little over it. Continue reading “FraGEElay All Over the Place”
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