Tag: love

The Reality of Ripples

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 12 Comments

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

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments

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.

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

Hitting the ‘Like’ Button on Ourselves

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 4 Comments

like 1Recently I joined a conversation between two women that had an all-too-familiar topic. The one woman was probably in her early 60s and the other in her 30s. Both were beautiful women, but the older one was sharing what she would have “done” if she could. She then proceeded to mention a couple areas of her body she disliked.

The topic morphed into what we would change if money or risk were no option. Sadly, we all had lists.

Why do we think this way about ourselves?

My ‘dislike’ list for myself is easy to answer and not lacking in numbers. It includes my nose, my thick thighs (well, it used to be just the thighs…now the thickness is less picky and more all-encompassing), my chubby thumbs, and much more.

And that’s just the list for physical attributes. There’s so much more to include if we want to go beyond looks.

Now ask me for the ‘like’ list, and…wait. For a while. Hmmm.

Why is it so easy to be critical and so hard to be loving to ourselves? Why is it that the bad wins big in our world of self-assessment?

Damned if I know.

What I do know is that it’s no good. It’s no good in a world that is already far too critical to add to the negative with a long list of personal dislikes.

We need to hit the ‘like’ button on ourselves.

Have you ever talked to a person who has shared a dislike about themselves that you don’t even notice? Or maybe you do see it but think it’s a beautiful part of who they are? And then you share that with them and you can tell that they don’t believe you?

We are too hard on ourselves.

And it doesn’t work in our favor, either. I may think that being tough on myself results in higher standards or creativity or productivity—or whatever. But the truth of the matter is it just adds to the failure pile.

It doesn’t add to our worth. In fact, it gives our sense of worth a kick in the ass.

the culprit
the culprit

Take something as silly as thumbs. My thumbs are short and chubby—just like my mom’s. I’ve had people call them club thumbs, toe thumbs, little fat thumbs, even penis thumbs (lovely)…I have been teased since I was a kid about those damn thumbs. They are indeed different. And all my life, I’ve looked at people with long, slender thumbs and envied them. What? That’s right—I have thumb envy.

Really? Is that a shortcoming (pun intended) that I actually need to feel shame about? Intellectually I know the answer is absolutely not. Emotionally…damn, I wish I had thumbs that could bend a full ninety degree angle.

As I have said here before, I often write on things that I need to hear, and today is certainly a day for that. I must admit that I need to hit the personal ‘like’ button more.

My husband will tell you that I am not great at accepting criticism from others, and that is true. Sometimes I think it’s because I’ve already given myself such a heavy dose of it that I am not willing to gladly accept any more, leaving me fairly defensive. Maybe it’s easier to battle back when it’s someone else doing the talking rather than my own head’s self-talk. Whatever the case, the irony is not lost on me.

Obviously, I don’t have any easy answers to offer here. I struggle with being hard on myself just like so many others do. But I do know I want to change that—that I need to change that. And I hope if you are someone who is reading this and thinking, “me, too!” that you will push yourself to snuggle up and love yourself no matter what. No matter what.

Now, that doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t strive to better ourselves in healthy ways—because we are all works in progress that can grow to be better throughout our lives. But when it comes to loving ourselves at the core, we should remember a key factor to begin with: God made us…and he loves us—and that ought to be a great place to start in accepting those chubby thumbs just as they are.

Fra GEE lay Redux

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 2 Comments
Winter sunrise. Hope in the sky.
Beautiful winter sunrise. Hope in the sky.

This is a beautiful but crazy season. More things to get done, more places to go, and more people to see. Highs and lows come swiftly, leaving you in a swirl. At least it’s been that way for me. Continue reading “Fra GEE lay Redux” →

True Team Spirit

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 3 Comments

If you haven’t yet seen this video, I strongly encourage you watch it. If you already have—because it has indeed gone viral—I strongly encourage you watch it again. It’s 3:22 of awesome—of some of the best stuff we want to see in each other.

For my second Frabjous Friday post, I am delighted to share this middle school football story. But it’s so much more than that.

What I love about it is that these boys who chose to go out of their way to show a special kid some love did so in a genuine, non-condescending way. They get it. They know it’s not about them doing this gallant gesture, but that it’s about the joy that comes from thinking outside yourself. 3:02 puts this into a beautiful nutshell.

Frabjous Friday is about sharing something joy-inducing. These boys accomplish that in amazing touchdown style.

 

My Problem with Tolerance

~ Lisa Ancona-Roach ~ 6 Comments

salad 3Please note: this post may have an idea or two that you are not comfortable with, along with an extreme overuse of quotation marks and italics. There may also be some rambling. Proceed at your own risk.

I have an issue with the notion of “tolerance” as a way of coexistence.

When I hear people who are “in favor of tolerance,” I wince a bit. Why?

Here’s my issue: tolerance, by way of definition is a capacity to endure pain or hardship…sympathy or indulgence for differing beliefs…the act of allowing something…the allowable deviation from a standard.

Tolerance implies “permission” from an “authority” or “sympathy” for the different. I find it condescending.

I don’t want tolerance. I need acceptance.

Now, for me, there are times the word tolerance is spot on. For instance, I will use it with my son (“I will not tolerate your using the dog like a wheelbarrow”) because I am an authority figure (most days) for him, trying to set healthy boundaries. Other instances where this word makes perfect sense is in not tolerating abuse of others or the breaking of a law. As the definition goes, these things deviate beyond the standard. I have no issues with not tolerating pedophiles or rapists or anyone else who hurts another.

But it’s not up to me to tolerate another person’s race, religion, age, national origin, marital status, sexual orientation…or any other kind of law-abiding “type.”

It is not mine to offer “sympathy” for what might be different from me. Who am I to tolerate another person’s nationality? And on the flip, who is tolerating mine? Should I breathe a sigh of relief that I don’t hear so many mafia jokes now that The Sopranos is off the air?

To me, it all boils down to Differentism. It’s the one ism that encompasses all the other discriminating isms—because all of them are about being different in one way or another. And what is at the core of Differentism? Fear. Fearing that which is different from you. (Or that you at least think is different from you.)

To me, it is fear that causes so much pain.

Cultures that oppress women and deny girls an education…what on God’s green earth would be a legitimate reason for wanting to keep someone uneducated? Why wouldn’t we be cheering for the support of raising up more women like the young Malala Yousafzai? The more we educate everyone, the better our overall world will be. Why would anyone want to keep another in the dark if not for fear?

Of course, the answer might also be “hatred,” but that is rooted in fear, too, isn’t it?

We fear what we don’t know or understand.

The one thing I see that helps overcome this is…learning. Talking. Connecting. Striving to understand. Realizing we are more alike than different. And while that which is different may not be our cup of tea, it’s not ours to throw stones at, either. Or to “put up with.”

As an American, I am blessed to be a part of a country that reflects the faces of many nations. Unless you are a Native American, your ancestry will cross at least one border. It’s a huge part of what makes us who we are. Our country is not a pedigree but a mutt (and if you’re a dog fan, you know that pedigrees can be sickly and quirky due to keeping the blood so “pure,” but mutts are strong and full of personality). Why are there those of us who see it as “us vs them”? We are both!

But I don’t want America to be a melting pot. You know why? Because it takes and makes everything into one thing—it boils it all down and blends it all up. I want America to be a delicious salad with all sorts of ingredients tossed together that enhance the whole dish. Together better than apart. But not all homogenized–still with the qualities that make us who we are. That shouldn’t just be the American Way, but the way of the world…at least according to me.

We don’t need to tolerate one another. We need to understand, love, support, help, and even celebrate one another.

If you’re still reading this rambling manifesto, go pour yourself a glass of wine (or beer. or vodka. or one of each. or more). You deserve it. But I hope that my tossed salad offers some food for thought about the nuances of the words we use when we talk about one another.

I don’t want you to tolerate me. I hope that you can accept me as I am: a goofy, flawed, work-in-progess.

And I’ll do the same for you.