If I told you that you were going to die tomorrow, would it change the way you live today?

It should.

This question may seem irrelevant because you are probably not going to die tomorrow and no one could predict it anyway. But I believe the question should make you do more than think.

It should be a catalyst to bring on changes. Changes that move you into the present moment and out of the future or the past.

If you, like me, have spent way too much of your precious life here on earth doing things that didn't really matter, you might feel a pang of remorse when you ponder the question.

A twinge of regret for the moments lost, adventures rejected, and connections missed while you went about accomplishing all your ridiculous goals. Or a pang of sadness for all the frustrating attempts to prove yourself worthy that ultimately resulted in added  disappointment. You might even experience some reservation at the out of character actions you took trying to be accepted, included and appreciated.

And nothing grabs at a girl's heart more than realizing how silly it was to try to control the future by planning the life out of everyone and everything around her, even if it all started with good intentions.

For highly sensitive people like me, fitting into a world where you feel you stand out (for all the wrong reasons) is sometimes a major objective, a vision clouding objective. We get caught up in the doing, and we forget about the being. What we don't realize is that when we try so hard to 'fit in', those little compromises we make occur at the expense of our souls and eventually mess with our self-worth.

When we don't live in the present, we put off things that matter thinking we will have time to do it later. Until later comes and we comprehend all the missed opportunities.

I'm sure you've heard the saying many times 'live each moment like it is your last'  and maybe you, like me, would pause and reflect for a moment on where you were spending your time and attention, and then go right back to doing things the way you have always done.

When I finally recognized my life was not heading in the right direction, I changed it.

And in doing so not only changed my life, but the lives of those I love. What greater inspiration is there than leading by example?

So many good changes have come from being more aware, from living in the moment right in front of me. For a long, long while I forgot how to appreciate. I was so caught up in planning it all out, in accomplishing things, in making sure that I was responsible and productive, that I lost "me" and life delivered me to my lowest moment. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from all that striving. And I realized I was missing the joyous parts of life.

If you knew that today was your last day--how many people would you want to see, talk to, hug, write a letter to, or tell how much they have meant to you? If you knew you were going to die tomorrow wouldn't you want to spend the minutes of your last day doing things that matter.

I would.

A while back I started to get the sense that my time was limited. Not in an I-am-going-to-die-tomorrow way, but like a wake up call to pay attention to all the little moments I was missing. Stopping to smell the roses was not in my original plan. It is the only plan now.

One moment at a time. One person at a time. One honest declaration of love, one heartfelt I'm sorry, one please forgive me, one hug filled with positive energy, one thank you so much, one I am listening, I see you, I hear you, one you can do it! Those are the moments that matter.

What would you do differently if this were your last day?

There is time to make a change. Follow your heart. Go on an adventure. Do absolutely nothing. Believe in yourself. Whatever it is that is different than what you usually do; do it. And do it with all the focus you can muster, as if it were the last time.

“If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

— Dr. Wayne Dyer

I've been avoiding writing lately. I still think in words but they seem to be stuck just under the surface, not quite ready to spill out.

And yet I am still being creative, just not with my words. I am appreciating the magnificence of fall through the lens of my camera, maybe in a bigger way than I ever have before. It is as if I cannot stop the flow of gratitude for the beauty in front of me. Every day. Even when the sky is gray.

Although I have always deemed myself a "summer girl", fall seems to bring out the awe and wonder in me.

As the trees stand in their full glory, their grand finale before they are stripped bare for the long cold winter, I see their pride. Their strength. Their unique beauty. I begin to understand the many life lessons that trees have to share with us.

The ones about standing strong against the elements and about finding your steady inner center while still being able to remain flexible. The lessons about being able to provide shelter for those less strong, to hold space for them while they rest & lean against you, and not allow them to knock you over. The importance of finding power and passion in your own uniqueness, and being okay with the scars that make you interesting and different. And the confidence it takes to be stripped of all your outward beauty and still stand proud in the naked truth of who you are.

It takes my breath away the many things the trees teach me.

While my words may escape me at this time of year, the beauty of the world around me does not. I thought I would share a few pictures of the way I see the world.Through my lens. In hopes you will soon begin to see it differently, too.

What is the acceptable title for the journey I am on? A title that won't have fervent members of the religious community throwing up protection by declaring that they are Christians...as if that is reason to back away from me.

I consider my transformation from stressed out, overachieving control freak, to peace-filled yoga instructor as one of personal growth, and have referred to it often as a dedicated effort to uncover the best possible version of me.

But someone just acknowledged my transition as a spiritual quest.

And yes, I do believe that fits.

I have spent too many years feeling as though I lacked an acceptable faith.

While I have never lacked a belief in God, or a relationship with Him, I struggled with thinking that because I never found an organized religion who's rules worked for me, my way was not "good enough".

I think I have gone over that mountain now-- I accept that what I believe is okay. Better than okay; it is perfect for me. Especially now that I feel good about it (and myself) from the inside.

I fully acknowledge that I am a student of spirit, and do not have all the answers, in fact I am on a quest for understanding....by definition a quest, is a search or pursuit made to find or obtain something. And as I grow in spirit and strength, I still feel the need as I have since I can remember -- to watch what I say, to choose my language carefully so that others do not judge me. I know I am not the only one.

Lately I have found more and more like-minded souls who share in the belief that we are all on our own journey and we must embrace what works for us, or we won't grow. Yet I wonder when I will have the courage to fully let go of what others think of me and my beliefs, and let my light shine bright.  To be able to finally stand tall in the face of judgment from those who consider my "woo woo" beliefs too different from their long held beliefs to be comfortable with me.

My whole life of growing up in GR has been like that when it comes to organized faith. If it wasn't "their way", it was wrong. I was wrong. Excluded. Not good enough.

I no longer believe that rules get you to God. Faith does. Believing in yourself first and then something greater than you does.

Don't judge; be curious. Don't compare; remain open. That is my plan.

No one has all the answers, and if they think they do, well that is another story entirely.

I'm on a spiritual quest. I am happier than I have ever been. I am more comfortable in my own skin than ever before. And I am confident those who truly love me right now, will love any changes I make in myself along the way.

I haven't written anything about my grand baby in a while.

I don't often even say the words ''I am a grandma" or "I have a grand baby."  So most people I meet never even know. I would like to talk about it more, but I don't feel I have much right. You see, my "baby" created a baby and ultimately gave him up for adoption. It could have been a devastating thing, but by some miracle it was an open adoption, and the adoptive couple is gracious and inclusive and a perfect fit for little Ford. We get to see him. Joy of joys.

I've been keeping our interaction 'close to the vest" as the saying goes, not because I am embarrassed about what happened, or worried what others will think, in fact I am really proud of the decision my son made in doing what was best for his child. I am not sure I would have had the courage to make the same decision myself. I am simply not sharing because it hurts too much. It's an open wound.

I suppose I hide it fairly well, my inner sadness that is, but it doesn't stop it from lingering.

It might always be there. Like a hole in my heart. A wish unfulfilled. A dream that crashed and burned. You know, one of those feelings. I am strong enough not to let it rule me, or hold me back, but it when it surfaces, it is painful. Raw. Open.

It used to be that every time I saw a photo of Ford it made me tear up. It isn't like that anymore. I still feel the tug, but it isn't sadness exactly that immediately rushes to the surface--Ford's happy smile in Facebook pics never fails to fill my heart with love, awe and gratitude. But that tug, the one I experience in the area of my heart when I see his picture in everyday life---feels like a sadness, for at least a minute or two.

Until I bring the focus around to him and his happy family. And remember that this is the way it is supposed to be.  And all is well. This isn't about me. Even though it sometimes feels like it is. It feels like a direct sign that I have been judged and have fallen short, so now I have to suffer this loss of my grandchild. Kind of like a punishment for what I should have done, what I should have known.

I know the "tug" I feel is selfish in nature. Self-critical. A waste of energy. But it doesn't stop it from happening. It is a powerful combo of regret and resolution, and a resignation that I don't get a second chance to do it right with Ford.

Ford will never be fully "mine" in the way I wish he could be. It just wasn't meant to be the way I dreamed it to be. He has a couple of other grandma's who see him regularly, who babysit him often, who get the sleepovers and the vacation time I crave with him.

Parenting is a huge responsibility and I have never been anything but conscientious about any responsibilities that have landed on my plate. Problem is, I got too caught up in doing parenting "right", by the book as I had been shown and taught, and I forgot to make time to  enjoy it.

I forgot to have fun. It should have been fun, darn it. But that is not what I remember... and my kids and husband probably don't remember it that way either.

Oh don't get me wrong, I could have done a worse job. I am not saying I was a complete failure, I did manage to keep everyone safe and clean, accident and germ free (for the most part), but I missed all the little precious moments that I can never get back. The moments of being. Of appreciating. Of enjoying. And somehow I allowed my children to think that they were not good enough, as they were. My focus was always on the future... an if you would have done this, then this...kind of a thing. I was taught that from a young age. It didn't serve me. And it didn't serve my children.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.  It was so wrong for me to continue that belief. So far from the truth of what is really important.

I have lived 50 years with a mean inner critic. She isn't about to sit back and not take the opportunity to scold me about this. I recognize that I wasn't the best parent I could have been. I know I had the right intentions, but my execution sucked. While I am not one to dwell on would've, could've should'ves---I would take a do over if I could.

Knowing my grand baby is not really mine and that I won't get a second chance to do it right with him, makes me sad. Really sad. Unexplainably devastated. Because I want(ed) another chance to do it right.

I give out a lot of advice these days. To others. And I firmly believe in living your truth. The good parts and the bad. So I get it. I know I have to be okay with acknowledging that I tried my best with my kids. It might not have been good enough, but it was my best. I did it with the right intentions. With love. 

And I have to be okay with knowing I won't have the luxury of fully being Ford's grandma and learning to appreciate his little habits and quirks. I once imagined having lazy days of babysitting where I'd get to be 100% focused on my grandchild, without any distractions and free from the responsibility of doing it right. As a grandparent it wouldn't be all up to me--I could be the kind of person I always wanted to be.  I could Spoil. Meander. Play. Indulge.

But it isn't meant to be. Not yet.

So parents...spoil your kids with your time and love. Love every second of your time with them: the good and the bad. Savor those sleepy weekend mornings, the movie time snuggling (even if it is for the the 50th time), and the slow walks in the woods. The ones where you never actually get anywhere. Let your kids get dirty, play in the rain, and stay up so late they see the moon. Let them wear mismatched shoes out in public and not think it is a reflection on your ability to parent;  let your kids instead be proud they dressed themselves.

Live in the moment. Your example of living in and acknowledging the "now", will be so much more important than keeping your house clean or getting the laundry done.

I see so many young parents doing it right these days and I am so happy for them --and at the same time sad that I wasn't smart enough to have done the same.

Stop trying to follow the advice of your parents and grand parents --chances are when they do become grandparents--they will be attempting to make up for the time they lost, too. Trying to right wrongs they were taught to believe in.

What I would do differently.

Show your kids by example what is really important. Listen to them. Answer them to the best of your ability. Align your words and actions. Spend time --QUALITY time--with them, sharing everything you can. Stop making a plan for everything, instead give yourself time to just enjoy the moment. Even if the moment has you feeling frazzled, tired, frustrated, or exasperated.  Learn to appreciate that you will never have that moment again.

Be present, and also be the best parent you can be in the present moment. Don't save your best self for an opportunity for a do over with your grand baby that may never come.

I understand that my adorable grandson is exactly where he is supposed to be, and with who he is supposed to be with. That makes my heart happy, and now most of the time when I look at a picture of him, it makes me smile with joy that at least he is in my life. No matter if it is different than I once thought. No matter that my do over, my second chance will have to wait.

Related posts: 

http://get-off-go.squarespace.com/blog/my-heart-is-full

http://www.getoffgo.com/blog/the-view-from-here

I love it when people call me fearless.

I also dread it.

Especially when my inner voice screams "not true, you are not fearless, not by a long shot."

I suppose I believe that if  I were truly fearless then I would march off and take action on the things I believed in, and in doing so would make a difference in the world around me. As I write this I am realizing that I have not fully grown past the if, then  futuristic thinking pattern that once ruled me. I thought I had.

To me standing in your personal truth, believing in yourself, and allowing your dreams to grow wings --those actions spell fearless to me. And if that is my gauge, no wonder I fall so far short of believing that I am capable of fearless.

A truly fearless person would go after what they want.

I don't do that well. I still find reasons (or excuses) to procrastinate, to abort, or to divert. I allow myself to get caught up in way too many detours and distractions. Self-sabotage?

I've tried at different times in my life to take action in what seems like the right direction, but I end up letting my inner voice (or someone else' s voiced fears) stop me in my tracks. I've wondered if my heart was not truly into those ideas I left behind, or if I am just scared of committing fully to a path in case it is the "wrong" one. Whatever the reason, I begin things with enthusiasm and passion, and then I stall.

There should be no fear in truth.

Why are so many women of my age afraid to stand fully in our truth?  Is it because we have been taught to worry about what it looks like from the outside, a what-will-the-neighbor's-think mentality we inherited from our mothers and grandmothers? Or is it fear?

We really should be worried more about how it feels on the inside, than what it looks like on the outside---shouldn't we?

Creativity, whether with words, a paintbrush, a camera, a sewing machine, a series of music notes, lies within all of us. And it is nothing short of scary to share outwardly what comes from the deepest parts of our soul. Yet we cannot allow ourselves to stay safe in our skin, never expressing  fully what we feel in our soul, or it will extinguish our light.

The truth, who we really are, is deep within our soul. It is in that creative space where all our  goodness and brokenness awaits the chance to fully express itself. To shine a light outward and make our unique difference.

A truly fearless person would have already written the book I tell people I am writing. They would have let go of the negative thoughts that they aren't really a writer, or they aren't a good enough one anyway. And they would let go of thinking they have nothing unique or original enough to share.

I need to let my light shine. In my own unique words. And I need to do it without expectation and without worrying about the consequences.

I took a step today in the direction of fearless. I signed up to attend the Storyline Writers Conference this fall outside of Chicago. Investing in my dream. Investing in me.

As I continue to evolve and grow into the best me I can be, I thank those who see me as fearless. Your support encourages me to keep going. To keep trying. To believe in myself.

I am pretty sure I see fearless, and she is just around the corner.

I'm not the same person I was. Not at all.

It is funny to see the realization dawn on the faces of those who knew me "when".

Questions of: Who are you? And what did you do with Terri? play across their faces.

The "old me" as I call it, or really the mask I wore to the world showed me as extremely organized. Planned. Productive. Future thinking. Busy. Distracted.

The "real" me is calmer, quieter, less organized and way happier.

But this brings up a question or two. Where did the majority of my old friends go? The ones who counted on me to organize, plan, prepare and hostess events that they enjoyed. They seem to be gone, along with my mask, my organized self and my clean house. Have I neglected them, or am I just no longer what they need?

Forward motion brings changes. And I recognize that this is all okay. Things are happening as they should.

But the new me still needs to be around people. I especially appreciate like minded people, the ones who get me for who I am: a student of spirit, a girl who communicates with trees, who sees colors behind her eyes, who lives to see signs that she is on the right path--even if she can no longer see the path ahead of her as she travels.

I believe in the real me. The new/old me. She is happy, honest, mostly carefree, and totally alive in the beautiful moments of life. I am not always in my head thinking about what might be (well, that still happens occasionally), or looking back at what was. I live more spontaneously and enjoy the moments at hand.

From the light shining off the dew in this morning's grass, to the larvae I saw stuck to my beautiful backyard tree --to the hug I got from my grown up son, still sluggish from sleep, I appreciate every little thing in front of me. I am thankful for every. beautiful. moment.

There are life changing moments and there are life defining moments.

My life defining moment came at the lowest point of my life. From the person I was most worried about. Not sure what set me off on this particular day, but I hit my rock bottom.

Sad, lonely, depressed, stuck, anxious, scared.....I was sitting in our basement miserable in my puddle of tears. No one else was home. I think I chose this day to crack as I knew it was too scary to share this breakdown with anyone anyway. I just needed to let it all out, face my darkness and start crawling out of the hole I had dug for myself. I was tired of trying so hard to be perfect and seeing the reminders every day of how much I had failed at exactly that.

In the throes of my sobbing from that deep deep part of me, I heard a noise behind me. It was Mitch. He was suddenly there. Oh boy. It was too late to stop the flow, the release-- there was no way I would be able to collect myself and pretend that everything was okay.

He asked: What's wrong mom? Are you okay? He gave me a hug which just made me cry more.

"No"-- was all I could manage. No I thought, how can I be okay when the world feels like it is crashing around me. Everything I worked so hard to control is crashing and burning right in front of me. Even you. Especially you. I am scared for you, worried for you, lost in how to reach out to you.  Tired of trying and failing and trying and failing. At being a mother. At being a career woman. At being happy. At being me.

I have no idea what I am doing. Fresh tears tore through my gut. My heart. My whole self.

I think I said something to the effect of: "I will be okay."

But I didn't feel okay. It was a lie at that moment. I didn't feel like it would be okay at that moment. Or ever. I was sorry. I was sorry for being sorry. I was lost. I was unhappy. My stomach hurt 24/7 and I wasn't sleeping well either. I was just plain miserable. And ready for a change.

But what came out of my mouth was a mom thing:  "I will be okay I just need to let this all out."

"Sorry for what?" he queried.

"Everything. Everything I ever did wrong." I said.

Everything I have screwed up with you. With Alec. With Sadie. I am so sorry I thought.

"Mom, I am fine. I will be fine. You and dad are the best people I know. I want to be just like you when I grow up." And there were nicer words that followed but I cannot remember them. I could not hear them.

His first words struck a chord deep down in my misery.

What? Did he really just say what I think he said?

I stopped crying. And I began to breathe again.

From this seemingly unlikely source, the person I felt most disconnected from, and was most worried about--came the exact words I needed to hear to begin my journey forward. Back to me.

What I wasn't quite yet ready to admit to my son at that moment was this:

I am a joke. I am 50 years old and I have no idea what I am doing or how to really be me. One thing I know for sure is you do not want to be just like me.

You want to be just like YOU.

You are more than enough just the way are. No changes needed --just find and keep your center. It is the heart of you and all that is good. It is all you ever need.

Stay true to you. Don't let the world dumb you down, keep you safe, or stop your dreams. Live as YOU and the rest of your life will fall into place. Don't do things to please others, which is not to say don't be nice to others or show compassion and thoughtfulness, that is important too.

Just do what you know to be right for you --do not lose touch with your center and what feels right, though this is the secret no one tells us as kids. You are born knowing what is right for you.

We learn it someone else's way, through someone else's filter when we are young. And that is where the trouble starts, the losing our own center part.

My way is just that --my way.

And that means that your way is just that also ---your way.

Both are right. And both are occasionally wrong.

Both are enough. Both are important. Both are necessary.

Son of mine, you are: right, enough, important, necessary and LOVED.

Author's note: This is a post I originally wrote nearly three and a half years ago. It was never published because I ran it by a friend before I clicked 'publish' on my blog, and her opinion stopped me from sharing it. She didn't say anything wrong or anything bad, but her lack of liking it made me doubt myself. And that was enough to stop me from sharing it. Back then I was accustomed to letting doubt creep in at the slightest turn. It was my way of staying safe--of attempting to stay ahead of any possible criticism. Having learned the futility and ultimate failure of this way of thinking, I have since successfully silenced my mean inner critic.

Working with so many highly sensitive people this last year has made me realize that I am not the only one clinging to the false belief that if I do everything perfectly I can remain 'beyond reproach'.  That is straight up crap --and is both exhausting and futile.

Silencing the monster within me took courage and patience. In hopes that a little inspiration may help someone else silence theirs, I am sharing this as it was originally written, without changing tenses or words. Freely. And without expectation. Or inner judgment.

I know it will reach the person who needs it most.

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Don’t get caught up in the chase, enjoy what is right in front of you.

How many times have you set a goal for yourself, and then gone after it with gusto. A new diet to shed 15 pounds, a new workout routine to whip your body into shape, a strict budget to save money for something you want to purchase? Whatever the goal you’ve set, it can be energizing and satisfying to have a purpose (and an end) to work towards.

Goals are trackable, achievable and recognizable, both to you, and to others around you. Call me weird but as a kid I always loved getting a report card. It showed me that I was on track. Or that I wasn’t, in some cases. It told me what I needed to work harder on, where my strengths were, and where they weren’t. It was a great way to stay focused and to discern where I stood in the scheme of life.

But what happens to that feeling of being on track when we become adults? Where is our report card? Who tells us if we are on track, or points out our strengths, tells us what we need to work on and gives us recognition for our accomplishments?

No one. We have to do it ourselves. We self evaluate, self analyze, and grade our own performance as mothers, wives, worker bees, friends. And most of us are pretty darn hard on ourselves. How often are we truly satisfied with our accomplishments?

I know I'm not. I always think about what I could have done better, choosing to focus on the areas that need improvement rather than stopping to celebrate what I have actually accomplished. It’s kind of exhausting. Take being a mother, for example. It is by far the hardest thing I have ever done. Even when I'm right, I feel wrong. And I think about all the things I could have done better to handle a situation. Letting your children make their own mistakes is almost impossible to handle gracefully.

So, how can we stop the madness of focusing on our weaknesses and not our strengths?

How about we all try to appreciate ourselves, and our accomplishments a little more...

Really think about that. The next time we start to knock ourselves for not accomplishing something on our "To Do" list, how about we pause and pat ourselves on the back for what we did do instead.  Cleaned the house, filled the cupboards with groceries, helped the kids with their homework, did the laundry, cooked dinner, picked up the new glasses at the eye doctor, returned the videos and library books on time, sent a birthday card to our mother-in-law, well.... you get the idea, right?

Remember your own awesomeness. Celebrate all the little achievements and give yourself some time to smell the roses along the way, instead of hurtling off headlong toward your next big goal. I know I'm willing to give it a go. How about you?
 

“Wherever perfectionism is driving, shame is riding shotgun. Perfectionism is not about healthy striving, which you see all the time in successful leaders, it’s not about trying to set goals and being the best we can be, perfectionism is basically a cognitive behavioral process that says if I look perfect, work perfect, and do everything perfectly, I can avoid shame, ridicule, and criticism. It’s a defense mechanism.”

— Brene Brown

I'm not exactly sure when my safe world was rocked by the realization that my life wasn't going perfectly, but I do remember the day I hit rock bottom.

For several months my life had slowly been spinning out of control -- and I was helplessly watching it get worse and worse. I had worked for years to do everything right, to be perfect, but it was a grand illusion. A joke. All my worst fears were happening right before my eyes and there seemed nothing I could do to stop them.

I had lived under the false belief that if I did it all perfectly, everything would all work out perfectly. I hadn't yet learned that attempting to control my world would not lead to perfection, it would lead to disappointment, helplessness and eventually a deep sadness. It didn't help me escape the shame, ridicule or criticism I so despised either, no matter how much additional effort I applied to doing it right.

Worse yet I was attempting to do it all perfectly with an expectation-- an if... then kind of a thing. Always pinning my happiness on some future thing meant that I never actually got to be happy or satisfied in the moment, it was just a constant uphill battle that never arrived at perfect.

I thought that if I did everything right, beyond criticism, followed the rules, then... I would be accepted, appreciated, and loved for who I was. But that never really happened. The real me was hidden under so many layers of thinking I'm not good enough, even I didn't know who I was anymore. I was always looking ahead and striving to be more, to do it better, to be beyond reproach. That meant that any compliment I did receive was immediately negated by my mean voice, which never even allowed two seconds of time to take in the warm fuzzy feelings a compliment should bring. I was always three steps ahead and thinking about how I could have (should have) done it better. Or how I would get it 100% right next time.

My mean voice eventually graduated to pointing out flaws in things and people around me. Even that felt like rejection--I heard my mean voice giving up on me, as if I wasn't worth trying to "fix" anymore. I easily slipped into the persona of a glass half empty bitch.

Being able to see and sense my own flaws and imperfections made it natural to wait and watch for that same criticism from others. And if I was "right" about my wrongness, it gave my mean voice more fuel.

Deep down I think I knew I could never really be perfect, and yet that fervently remained my goal.

Giving my best effort should have been good enough. Perfection is the great illusion. To think otherwise, to live otherwise, indicates we are operating from an unhealthy place. My need for control, to be right and insulated from criticism caused my perfectionism to spill outward to everyone around me. It crossed boundaries into other people's space. It got ugly.

The worst part is that I could not get off the train. I could not let go, even though I knew that life would be so much easier if I just stopped trying to be perfect. On I plowed, so darn unhappy, so mean to myself, so scared that I would lose control and end up a failure --which in retrospect I kind of did anyway. Because there is nothing quite like an epic fail to grasp the lesson that nothing is ever perfect, even if it sometimes looks like it from the outside.

I know that I am "judged" a little every time I lead a yoga class, by someone like the 'me' I used to be. They will find flaws, mistakes, and truthfully so will I, only now I don't let them stop me from moving forward. When I forget the second side of a series of poses, or call out left when I mean right, or fall over--- I don't dwell on the mistake, I laugh it off. I make a joke.

I am finally able to recognize that I am human and I give myself a little grace. My best effort is all I really have, and that will have to be good enough. Even for me.

Related links: http://www.fastcompany.com/3026324/leadership-now/do-you-have-the-good-kind-of-perfectionism

You have the power within you. Those words might be the only mantra I need for life. Now that I realize their truth, they are my answer for everything.

I've been wearing the ruby slippers for years and hadn't realized their power. My power.

To do Anything. Everything. or Nothing.

Why did I spend so many years giving up my power to others? Questioning my own intuition. Thinking I needed someone else's buy in to my ideas to make things happen. Why didn't I trust myself more?

I do now and I am not about to give up that power again.

In recent weeks I have recognized my ability to be fully me. To say yes when I mean yes, and no when I mean no. To go forward when I recognize that I am on the right path. To be connected with others when I want to and also to recognize my body's warning signs when I need time to dis "connect", or to as I call it "turtle in". To see the positive in the situations around me where I once might have focused on the negative.

Life is so much less complicated now. The drama is outside of my bubble. I have an inner peace that rocks.

Today I sat outside and appreciated the beauty of the lake before me. I appreciated the fantastic life I have been blessed to live. My beautiful talented soft-hearted boys, my gorgeous husband, my often crazy family who make me laugh and cry, and the many "others" who think that I am something special and call upon me to be their safe haven.

The sheer wonder of such a great life caused tears to leak. No one was around to see or notice, so I'm sharing that secret with you.

I'm not sure why I ever lost the ability to appreciate every. single. thing. about my life, but I am sure glad that gratitude is back in full force.

Happy. Happy. Happy. And so fully blessed!

Fact.

I met the man of my dreams at age 17. He however, was not yet convinced that I was the girl of his dreams, at least not for a while. Four things cemented my surety that he was the one for me in record time.

1. He had the kind of eyes I'd only read about in my Harlequin romance novels. You could get lost in them. They had the power to make me feel like I was the most beautiful girl in the world. They still do.

2. He kissed me for the first time in a closet wearing a toga--it was the best kiss I'd ever had, and to this day it remains untouchable. It might have been the way he held my face as if I was precious, or it might have been the way I felt perfectly safe with him (in a closet at a college toga party, a week after meeting him).  Either way I will never forget that kiss.

3. He is the first (and only boy) to ever sit by my bed and help me through a night of drunken sickness. It wasn't pretty. I am sure I smelled like the worst kind of gross. He never made me feel dumb for asking for him to come and sit by my bed (when I barely even knew him and wasn't even officially dating him) or for smelling like poo. All I know is that he was there for me when I needed him.

4. He is the only person who can make me laugh, cry, scream in frustration, shake my head in confusion, feel like the prettiest girl in the world, and keep me grounded and safe, while giving me wings to fly. He is my biggest fan, my greatest cheerleader and my inspiration. No one has ever come close to accepting me for who I am like he has. 

Today marks 29 years we have been married. I was in love with him for four years before that. Clearly I have been with Mike longer than I have been without him. Looking back on the day we took our wedding vows I really had no idea what through thick and thin even meant. Sickness and health, yeah I understood that part. Love, honor and cherish should have been a no brainer as well. Thick and thin....who knew?

Our time together hasn't always been rosy. Let's be real, you don't start out as kids and end up as parents, then over fifty grown ups without a few rough patches. I married my best friend at 22. Our oldest son is 22, I can't imagine him getting married now. Heck,  I can't imagine us getting married at that age. I wasn't even fully formed yet (thus the rough patches).  I changed. He changed. We changed. We grew apart. We grew together. We had children. Things got busy. Then busier. Then our children grew into teenagers. Things got very hard. Soon many of those things you think are never going to happen to your kids; happen. Your world is rocked. And either you find a safe place to land together or you split.

Some people we know didn't make it through the tough times. Some stayed together for the kids. Some stayed together for the kids and then split.  And some are still just going through the motions.

Yet some, like us, survived the storms, came out stronger on the other side and are loving the chance to explore life together again.

I remember people who said we would never last when we first started dating. At first it scared me because I thought they might be seeing something that I didn't. And then as time went on I knew that the truth was that no one was seeing what I could see. No one made me feel the way Mike did. No one accepted me for who I was, loved me anyway, and somehow inspired me to get up each day and be a better version of myself.

I cannot really remember life without Mike. I do not want to contemplate a future without him. I am my own person and he is his, but together we are a unit, a team. Unstoppable.

When I am down, he is strong and reminds me that I am enough. When he is down I am there to let him know that he means the world to me and to remind him that he is the best person I know.

He snores. He tailgates. He saves way too much stuff. And he also fixes everything and anything. Perfectly. He cares for everyone around him, is always willing to help someone out and knows the exact right thing to do in any situation. I love him dearly for being my rock. And for making me laugh like no other (sometimes at him). Most of all I love him for knowing me better than I know myself most days....

I am blessed to be his wife, best friend, and mother of his children.

We are blessed to be better together than we ever were apart. There isn't a day that goes by that I am not thankful for life with him by my side and also for our children--our boys and our almost daughter--and the many others who allow us to "parent" them from time to time, our loving and fun families, all our friends and our adorable grand baby.

Happy 29th Anniversary to the man of my dreams. I have loved you since I was 17 and didn't really even know what that meant yet, and I will love you forever. I hope we have 29 more years to grow stronger together.

I've been concentrating on the "now" for the last few weeks, and as a result it has been very quiet on this blog. In a way I have been reconstructing myself, crawling out of the darkness and into the light of my life.

It isn't as though I haven't been writing....I just haven't shared. I've been sorting things out, following signs from the universe--savoring the little moments of spring that somehow I have managed to miss for 30 some years. It's been heavenly to see my beloved trees get their clothes (leaves) back on. As much as I think I am watching them for signs of change via buds and blooms, it seems they go from bare to bedazzled overnight. It is magnificent.

I spent the first half of this year "turtling" in and focusing on finding and keeping my calm inner center, and now I am feeling the urge to be creative. For years I have believed my own lies and thought that I was not artistic. I recently took a chance on trying my hand at painting, and oddly enough it gave me self-confidence (not so much in my painting), but in my artistic vision.

I am oddly proud of the things I have created lately. (And it feels really weird to admit this to myself and to you.)

Maybe the difference is that I have stopped judging everything the way I once did, so I don't paint, photograph nature or write for any other reason than it fuels my soul. I don't care if anyone else likes it. I am not doing it to be liked. I am doing it because my inner voice tells me I need to do it.

It is not only freeing to release judgment of my own work (which I did for decades and always found it lacking), but crazily motivating to allow myself to feel pride in it. I spent the majority of my life pointing out flaws in myself instead of celebrating my strengths. This new self-appreciation does a lot to support my inner cheerleader, the one who not only believes in me, but encourages me.

As memories and childhood experiences float through my now quieter mind, I realize that I spent the majority of my life as an observer of the world around me. It was my way of making sure I "fit in", wasn't a burden, did my share, and never let anyone down. I was a good person to have around--I got things whipped into shape, I walked in front of many and smoothed out bumps in the path ahead--sometimes before they even recognized there was going to be a bump-- but in doing so I rarely considered my own needs. I focused outward and wrongly believed that putting myself first in line meant I was being selfish. Silly me. I have learned that I cannot fully be present with those I love unless I am being true to myself. The old adage "You cannot heal those around you until you heal yourself" is one that has made a huge difference in me in the last year. Finding my way back to "me" has led to better relationships with everyone I love.

I recognize now that I never really fully lived or appreciated the moments of my life. I was just passing through until....until something. Next week, more money, when the kids grew up, when I had the house clean. I put off my joy until I accomplished the next thing, only it got so crazy that the next thing never stopped coming. It was like an obsession to keep accomplishing or what ...I would fall apart? I would fail? I would be judged lazy? I would cease to exist? I am not really sure what my ego convinced me of....I just know that life became overwhelming and exhausting.

Maybe my book (the one I have started writing) will help peel back the layers of why I allowed this to happen. Maybe writing it out will help someone else learn from my mistakes and avoid the dark trap of accomplishment and doing.

All I know is that I am forever changed. I intend to truly live in every moment of my life. I will put myself at the front of the line because I realize I am nothing to those I love unless I am truly and 100% myself. And to be truly myself I have to heed the quiet voice inside that says move your body, creatively express your soul, talk with the trees, and laugh with those you love; often and fully.

So I am, and I will continue. And I will savor every second.

A month ago I took part in a transformational leadership seminar. An interesting thing happened during the weekend long workshop, we had an assignment called 'Getting Off It' and I was supposed to call someone out of the blue and address something that had been bothering me, something I hadn't gotten over. This person may or may not have even known I was holding onto something.  In other words we were to reflect (soul search), be honest about something we'd buried, fess up to the person involved and move on.

I didn't do my homework.

(Usually a rule follower, unless they are dumb, which this wasn't, I questioned why I hadn't done it). Was there no one I needed to get over something with? Was it because I am no good at phone conversations about important things like forgiveness or moving on and would rather do it in person?

I think the real reason I didn't do it is because the conversation I needed to have was with myself.  I needed to 'get off' being mad at myself for continually making the same mistake over and over again.

In fact, that particular evening I had been beating myself up for having made the same mistake earlier that day. When am I going to learn that just because I can see what needs to be done to move something or someone forward, does not mean I should share it?

Over and over I cannot seem to stop myself from jumping in to help someone before they have even asked for help; before they are even ready.  I am aware of  this and yet I still let my enthusiasm and good intentions get the best of me, certain at that moment that I have read the signs correctly and my help is wanted.

At one of our break out exercises earlier that day we had to team up with another participant to answer some very deep personal questions. When it was my turn to answer them, I started out with confidence as I have spent the last couple of years answering those same questions myself. It wasn't until partway through my turn that instead of just answering easily I started to recognize that my listener, my "partner" was no longer "liking" my answers....she was slowly pulling away from me. I sensed that she was questioning my answers. Almost like she didn't believe me. I allowed her suspicions to get the best of me, and I started answering differently so she would stay on the same page with me.  I realize now I wanted her to like me.

I found myself saying things like "the old me would say this but the new me says this", and even as I did I could hear the voice in my head snidely asking if there were two of me? I could see that she was measuring herself up to me, competing with me --and I wanted her to stop. I knew how many hours of personal growth I had clocked to get to this point, I deserved to be confident in me. And yet, even as I continued on I heard myself explaining that I was still growing, that it was a practice every day to get rid of my old ways of thinking and become the me I was always meant to. I knew even as the words came out that I was saying those things to make her feel better, I really had moved on from my own mean voice and was confident in my self-awareness, my current assessment of "me". I could also see she was clearly not feeling the same way about herself.

I could empathize with her because I had lived for years with a similar judging inner voice who had often made me feel "less than" someone else, and I wanted to spare her that pain. My mistake was twofold, I should never have compromised my answers to make her feel better, and I shouldn't have told her that I had a book suggestion for her.

I really thought I had given up on worrying what others think about me and no longer compromised what I really wanted to say just to please others. I was wrong.

If I had answered the questions with complete confidence and honesty then maybe she wouldn't have struck back at me later in the day when we were asked to volunteer to give assessments of our initial impression of someone else. I was unprepared for her to deliver a negative assessment/assumption in front of the whole room saying I made her feel judged because I had gone into coach mode and offered her a book suggestion. (Funny that I never even gave her that book suggestion).  As part of this exercise all we could say in response to someone's assessment of us was thank you.

So I said "thank you" only my cheeks were smarting and my heart was racing. Apparently I wasn't the only one who noticed the aggressive way she delivered her "judgment" of me. Right after her comment many people piped up to say they were very uncomfortable with this exercise and the giving of negative assessments publicly. It caused quite a ruckus, someone even said they wanted to hug me. I wasn't mad at her for the assessment, I was mad at myself for momentarily slipping back into the old way of seeing myself through the eyes of others and attempting to change me to fit them.

Remember the "get off it" homework I never did? What I needed to get off of was to accept that I had made a gross error by once again worrying about what someone else thought of me. I should never have changed my answers to be more "accepted" by my partner, I should have just stuck with the truth. The truth is that I am happy with me. I have worked hard to be where I am and no one's "judgment" of me should change that.

So here is my late homework: Self --I am sorry that I allowed someone's feelings about me to derail my confidence in who I am. I am also sorry in my attempt to help this person I compromised myself by scaling back the answers about me, then jumped in with a suggestion for her and screwed the whole thing up. I am getting this off my chest, letting it go, learning my lesson and I am moving on. Right now.

And so it goes...

I'm not brave.

Or, am I? I did make at least one bold move recently.

I left behind the world I knew and walked off into the sunset to follow my heart. I did it without a plan, and without a safety net. It was totally out of my comfort zone. Heck, it was out of everyone's comfort zone. It might have even been a little irresponsible.

Many thought so. A few told me I couldn't do only what I wanted.... some warned me that this new venture would be really hard, others wished me luck to my face (yet I sensed they secretly hoped I'd fail).

And yet, I didn't really care. I'd faced rock bottom and it was a place I never wanted to be again. Depressed and negative, I'd slowly turned into someone I barely recognized, someone I definitely did not like. I had lost my confidence, my solid footing. I questioned everything, had trouble making decisions, and certainly allowed the actions and words of others to derail me.

If brave means doing what you have to do to get your life back, then I guess I was. I took the risk of uncertainty over more of the same. I suppose you could say I took my personal power back.

And despite a rocky forecast, this new gig is working out. I'm happier, freer, better. I don't make the money I once did --which never really mattered to be anyway -- but I also don't spend money like I used to.

Life is simpler. It got so complicated for a while there and I got further and further away from my true self. For a time I couldn't figure out what to do about it. A book saved me. It helped me take a step forward -- since then so many other books have shown me the way. The book that made me look at things differently was Happy For No Reason by Marci Shimoff. I actually didn't read it, I listened to it in my car.

And that is how I feel now, most days. Happy. Blessed. At peace. Freer. Whole. Everything has more meaning than it once did, and so much more is appreciated.

My brave might not have felt that brave to begin with, but I am positive without it, I would not be where I am today.

I met up with a friend the other day and she told me I seemed Calm. Happy. At peace.

She said it with one eyebrow raised. I inquired about that. She wondered how I had done it.

I told her I had "turtled" inward and focused on doing things that were easy, things that served me.  She asked what "easy" meant. I told her I had started saying no to the things that others wanted me to do, things I knew I could do, but didn't really want to. I stopped trying to fix things for others, and started concentrating on what I needed to do to move forward.

It made all the difference in the world.

You cannot heal those around you until you heal yourself. I took that advice to heart. I healed the mean voice inside...and once I did, my life started changing. And those around me noticed and also started changing.

My advice to those who want to move forward: stop listening to the mean voice and start hearing your higher self--the essence of YOU -- I am positive your life will change, too.

And who knows, maybe YOU will find YOUR own version of brave.

When someone passes from this life we immediately begin to fear we will forget them --and search out ways to make sure that doesn't happen. Like wearing something special of theirs, or taking a photo or memento to place in plain sight so you won't stop remembering the way they'd smile, or the light in their eyes. Or their hugs. Or their voice.

I saw so so many ways that my husband's family crafted loving ways to remember their beloved momma. From the wearing and sharing of her jewelry and clothes with all the girls-- daughters, daughter-in-law, grand daughters, and great grands, even those part of the family by love not blood or marriage. Each one was able to take something of hers to remember her by.

I know how important this is as I have worn a necklace that was my friend Addie's for over a year. It is a constant reminder of the beautiful girl she was and forever will be in the memories of those who loved her.

My sister-in-laws went to such beautiful lengths to find ways to keep their momma present in their memories and the memories of their own children and grand children. Some will be too young to remember her for long, so they recorded videos of her reading books to them,  snapped endless pictures, chose special mementos to bring back to their own homes. And most importantly they made sure they enjoyed every minute they could with her before she left this world crafting a boatload of new memories to cherish.

It was so beautiful to see. I am so proud of their grace and in awe of their strength. Not surprisingly, they remind me of my mother-in-law.

When a loved one dies there is no right or wrong way to feel really. Sad is usually first, sometimes anger follows, depression -- but there can also be joy. I choose to believe that we can keep our loved ones with us in spirit, if we pay attention to the present.

Even a year ago I might have thought what I am about to say was wishful thinking or maybe a little crazy--and yet I now know that my mother-in-law, and anyone who has passed---remains forever with us, if we pay attention to the signs.

My husband and I both got signs that she was still with us on the day my mother-in-law passed away. His came when he was making the bed so his dad had fresh sheets to sleep on. As he bumped into the recessed headboard while fussing with the sheets, the music box nestled there made one single chime. He acknowledged it with a fleeting thought wondering if his mom was showing him her happiness that he was doing this kind gesture for his dad. Think how hard it would be to make up the bed for the first time knowing you'd be spending this night truly "alone" without your best friend of 55 years beside you?  Just imagining that is enough to bring the most stoic of men to tears, it breaks my heart in two.

When Mike was nearly done with the bed and as he was pulling up the comforter, the little box chimed once more --this time with no help from a headboard bump --and without hesitation Mike told me he said, "You're welcome, Mom." And smiled.

I can only imagine how delighted his mom was knowing he "got" her sign and then acknowledged it right back to her. I will be doing one great big happy dance in heaven if my boys do that for me!

I received my first sign that same evening in the middle of my GROOVE class. It came first as a thought that she might be watching me dance from above and I smiled up the memory of her own beautiful smile and tinkling laugh--and a moment later my music glitched and switched to a new song. Flustered I ran over and in my haste to get the right song back on -- failed to notice which random song it had switched to-- definitely not one of the others on the song list for that evening. I re-hit play on the song that had glitched --it was Wipe Out by the Surfaris- -and it started up again, played a few notes and immediately switched over to another song (it could have even been the same song as the first time but in my panic I failed to notice). As I searched for an answer that made sense, was the battery dying on my speaker, was the ipod connected properly--- I suddenly realized with certainty it was my "sign" and calmly said "well I guess someone doesn't want us to play this song tonite, so let's move to the next one". No surprise that the rest of the tracks played out just fine.

I believe that mom wanted to validate that she was indeed watching me dance when I was thinking of her. In all the times I have played my Ipod for a GROOVE class it has never once jumped songs like that. I have no doubt it was mom letting me know that she was still here.

We get to choose the way we keep our loved ones with us, so make sure to choose to honor those who have left your life in a way that works for you. Wear some of their jewelry, pray with their rosary, get a tattoo over your heart, walk in their shoes, see the blue sky and smile because it was their favorite kind of day--whatever it is, choose to keep them with you and don't let the sadness of their passing isolate or insulate you from the world.

Appreciate and notice the way other people keep your loved one's memories alive, too. Like the picture above of my father-in-law -- taking a walk on a blue-skied day (which his wife loved)-- and noticing the flag placed at half-staff at the entrance to their condo complex in memory of her. Beautiful.

Recognize those who traveled long distances to the funeral to honor your loved one-- and to support you in your time of need. Take note of how loved it made you feel when someone chooses to surprise you with that support, then remember to return the favor when the time comes.

In the months after a death many may offer you a random hug or a shoulder to cry on -- take them up on their offers of support and don't feel guilty when you laugh or joke and create a new memory with them.  You'll not only make them feel good by allowing them to help you, it just might be exactly what you need to move forward yourself.

If you know someone who has lost someone recently, send them a random note or text message after the funeral is over just to let them know you are thinking about them. Or call them to say "hi", even if you don't really know what to say....trust that the right words will come. It isn't what you say anyway, it is that you thought of them. It helps. They'll remember those gestures far longer than you think.

No matter how hard we try, our memories will fade a little. No doubt the littlest ones in our family will forget the face of their grandma or great grandma Ceal-- they might even forget the special way she read them stories or painted their toenails-- but there are pictures and videos filled with priceless reminders. And so many precious memories will live on in the hearts of those who loved her. I trust that my sisters-in-law, my own children and my nieces and nephew will make sure that no one who is a part of my mother-in-law's great legacy of love (current and future) will ever forget her.

I once remember thinking that when I passed on I wanted my life to be remembered as meaningful in some way, thinking at the time I had to do something remarkable to be worthy of being remembered.  Now I see that there is great meaning in living a life as simply you. Humble. Kind. Strong. Faithful. Loving. Constant.

Mom, you may have been tiny but your legacy is huge and you will always be remembered for the beautiful person you are.

P.S. And since I'm watching for the signs --- I'll see you soon.

As I sat at the computer this morning with my beautiful mother-in-law on my mind, and having just re-read my post about Angel Addie, I didn’t realize she was taking her final steps into the light of Heaven. I knew the end of her time here on earth was near, after an early morning phone call and several texts I’d received as my husband made his way to Jackson, but not that it was actually happening while I sat and let my tears and words flow. It comforts me now to know that even though I wasn’t physically there with her and the rest of the family ---I was thinking of her—and connected in spirit---at pretty much the exact moment she moved on.

My husband feels bad that he missed being at her bedside by only minutes because he thoughtfully stopped on his way into town to get some food for everyone who had stayed over at the house. He feels guilty thinking she was holding on for him to get there, and the food stop caused him to miss her passing by mere minutes. 

What if she wasn't waiting for him to physically arrive, instead she just wanted to make sure he was safely back in town and ready to step in and be a calming force in the sea of ensuing sadness her departure was sure to leave?  I think what she needed most was to know that everything and everyone would all be okay --and his place wasn't to actually be with her in those final moments, but to facilitate her peaceful release by giving her the last piece of reassurance she needed that it was okay to go. Once she knew he was in line paying for those donuts she was able to let go of any lingering doubt and leave peacefully.

I hope that is how it will be for me someday --- when I am minutes from Heaven, I too will just want reassurance that my family will all be okay.

Here is what I was writing as my mother-in-law met Jesus. I was even playing the song she loved, too. http://youtu.be/N_lrrq_opng

Dear Mom:

You are minutes from Heaven and I am so thankful that of all the mother in law’s in the world, I was lucky enough to get you. These past two years while you have raged your battle against cancer, you have done so with such grace.

As I wait here praying that the angels bring Mike safely to your side, the tears are slowly falling.

We will miss you here in this world but know that you are heading home and you are not scared. You are ready. We were the ones not quite ready for you to leave us. Your obvious excitement at meeting Jesus however has given us comfort that you will be more than okay in your new home.

This is hard sitting here and waiting. I see why so many have trouble letting their loved ones go. We don’t want you to leave. But we also do not want you to suffer. So go peacefully mom. Don’t fight the light and the extended hands of those who have gone before you. They are patiently waiting for you as well. I know Grandma Wallis is first in line—say hi to her for me will you? And hugs and love to Grandma and Grandpa Spaulding.

Mike is almost there. I don’t want to call him because I don’t want him to start driving faster to get there, either you will wait or you will be drawn to the light just before he gets there. The timing will be perfect whatever it turns out to be.

It is interesting that yesterday I celebrated Addie’s life and felt her presence so strongly all day and now today you will be joining her in Heaven.

Will we feel you, will you send us signs? I hope so. It is so comforting to be able to know that love never really ends – it changes sure, but we will still feel your love and send our love to you. Always and forever, until we meet again. XO

Your daughter in love.

Dear Addie:

One year ago tonight you left this world. I'm not sure a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you at least once. You are a part of me now; my prayers, my conscience, my wisdom. Even when people think I am talking to "myself", I'm really talking to you.

What a difference a year makes.

I think you might approve of the person I am now Addie. And a really big reason I have grown so much is because of you.

Some of the situations I have had to face this past year, especially with Mitch, were so much harder and different than I ever imagined. There were so many times I had no idea what to do, and somehow I knew you were with me patiently attempting to show me the way.

Last April as I walked among the scattered wreckage on that Iowa road with your mom I searched for signs of your presence. At the time I had only barely begun what I will refer to as my year of spiritual growth so I wasn't able to pick up on any signs you may have tried to leave for me, and truthfully even if I had, I would have passed them off as just my imagination. I grieved for you and for your mom and Jack, and I feared I would not know how to help them through this.

You started trying to get my attention soon after I left Iowa wearing your necklace. Those mornings you would make it fall off seemingly randomly and for no reason as I sat in front of the computer with my coffee.  But looking back, it really wasn't random at all -- you were slowly waking me up me to your presence-- and you made sure I was always at home and in no danger of losing your necklace.

I was a slow learner and it took three or four tries before I stopped thinking your necklace was just fastened wrong, or that it had broken. Pretty sure having the Matilda dvd fall off the shelf in your room at home while I was talking to your mom on the phone sealed the deal for me.

And once I figured out it was you I began to "wake up" to so many things I had been missing.

You have taught me so much.

Your necklace hasn't fallen off my neck in almost 9 months. I find that my hand makes its way to your necklace several times a day (to make sure it is still there?) or to reassure me that I am not alone.  I think of you when I need strength, inspiration, and guidance when I am torn between choices.

I don't see this habit of mine changing anytime soon either and I have done a 180 when it comes to watching for signs. Anytime something out of the ordinary happens around me I smile and assume it is you with another message. It makes me pay attention, and notice and believe. I have no doubt that you are happily flying around all of us, swooping in to cover us with your fairy dust love when we need it most. 

Your hugs in life were the best, your hugs now are almost as good, I've never had so many goosebumps. 

I miss your random texts and our facebook chats, but I love knowing you are always right there when I need you. I try not to take much for granted anymore. I attempt to live each day in the present, appreciating all I have and all those I love.

In your honor I will do my best to make my life matter. And I will try to love as BIG as you would have.

RIP Angel Addie, I miss you. See you in Heaven.

Feeling a little drained, blah, closed off & constricted lately? Maybe you need to tap into some natural energy and get outside! Using nature as your gym is not only fun--- it is rejuvenating. While I highly recommend yoga on the mat (inside) as a daily/weekly practice, I emphatically believe that moving our bodies outside is the ultimate energizer.

Thinking it is still too cold outside....that didn't stop Mary Ellen Hoinski from planking off Gill's Pier Road by Lake Michigan. What a beautiful sight in her red coat. (Thanks for sharing this gorgeous photo.)

Whatever the weather, busting out a yoga move or two is a great way to ground and re-energize yourself. There is a calming beauty in listening to the birds happily chatting, feeling the wind on your face, hearing the waves lapping on the shore while you tune into your body and your breath.

Check out these fun photos of me and my friends using the woods, water and beach as our yoga studio.

Yoga is perfect for any body type, age or skill level, and using the outdoors as your studio makes it free to take part.  If you feel restless, scattered, or in a funk --take yourself outside for a walk among the trees -- and while you are at it, bust out a yoga pose or two. You'll be feeling naturally rejuvenated in no time.

If you had a good friend who was all ready to move forward on something, something they believed strongly in but were holding back out of fear or self-doubt, would you do something to help them get started?

Of course you would.

Most people love to see others succeed. It inspires them to move forward with ideas and dreams of their own. And it sparks courage -- have you ever given yourself the pep talk that goes like this "well if so-and-so can do it, then so can I"? Unfortunately, most times the pep talk is as far as we get before our own doubts, fears, anxieties or over thinking creep in and stop us dead in our tracks.

Go back to my original question and imagine that the good friend I asked about was actually YOU. Would your answer be the same? Would you do something to help yourself move forward? Or would you hold back and throw up roadblocks in order to keep yourself "safe" ?

Ah ha!  If helping a friend is easier than helping yourself....a reassessment is needed.

You have to be willing to do at least as much for yourself, if not MORE than you would do for a  good friend, to get moving in the direction of your dreams. Focusing outward, on others and helping them take risks but being unwilling to take your own means you are living vicariously through them. In essence you aren't believing in yourself. You are keeping yourself stuck in order to keep yourself safe from failing. This can eventually lead to dark feelings of self-doubt, anger, guilt, depression, and hopelessness as you watch others around you succeed -- sometimes even succeeding in areas that you also could excel at. The results of keeping ourselves "safe" can actually result in the outcome we fear most ---failure.

So why do we so easily get distracted by others, offering assistance to them via our supporting words or a new connection that will further their ideas, instead of focusing on our own ideas and dreams? Because in helping a friend, we have no ownership of the outcome. We don't have to worry about feeling any shame or stress if they fail, so we can be brave for our friends at no risk to ourselves.

What we really need to do is be brave for ourselves.

So start believing in YOU. Trust in YOU. Support YOURSELF.

I do not say this lightly and I know from experience that this is also not an easy thing for many people to do: you need to put yourself first. It is necessary for our own well being and for those who depend on us to put ourselves at the front of the line. I spent years assisting others, watching them achieve what I wanted to achieve, watching them take risks I was too scared to take....because I was afraid (deep inside) that I might fail. And if I failed, I feared I would come unglued. But I have learned that I wasn't giving myself enough credit. I am strong, I can overcome failure. I can survive it. In fact, it doesn't render me helpless -- it did the reverse, it made me stronger. I am still learning to undo the patterns I once developed to keep myself protected so that I can begin to live life fully and not just go safely through the motions.

I realize now that being stuck on safe made life an uphill battle for me. In essence it made life so much harder than it needed to be. Are you doing the same?

What is stopping you from moving forward?

Are you afraid of failing? Are you stuck in your comfort zone? Or are you listening to the negative people around you, the ones who discourage you because they are afraid of pursuing their own dreams?

Your time is now. Stop thinking about it. Lead by example and DO IT.

The square of ice over my heart melted last night, and made its way down my cheeks and out through my tears, in its place grew gratitude.

Letting go of expectations is freeing.

A couple weeks ago I wrote a post about the View From Here and while I was writing the post I grieved for what I thought I had lost; another chance at being the kind of mother (in this case grandmother) I wished I had been the first time around. Never ever imagining that a grandchild of mine would be born and not be a part of our daily lives, I made the mistake of looking at the situation selfishly and concluding that it sucked. I concentrated on all the negatives, what things I would be missing out on-- the "do over chance", the cuddles, the opportunities to spoil him--all ridiculously self-centered things. I worried that this child might someday think his biological grandparents didn't care about him. Those thoughts left me feeling sad, guilty and like the whole situation was a direct reflection of the type of parent I had been (or had not been) to my own son. It is very much a reversion to an old pattern of thinking that has ruled most of my life -- and it doesn't make me happy to admit I slipped backwards.

Proof that we are all human and even though we "know" better, it does not stop us from repeating our mistakes.

It took my grandson's incredibly gracious adoptive parents to show me that once again I was taking the glass half empty view. Instead of recognizing that my husband and I did well to raise a child who was able to make a hard decision in the best interest of his own child, I chose to focus on the things that didn't add up to what I'd once expected. What I failed to acknowledge was the awesome opportunity my grandson has to live the beautiful life he deserves. I realize now how fantastic it is that my grandson will be raised by a loving, beautiful, supportive young couple, who have been in essence just waiting for him.

Yesterday I had the opportunity to spend time with the couple that adopted my grand baby. As they shared a meal and traded stories (and laughter) with my own family, I was able to hold my grand baby against my heart and smell his beautiful baby smell while kissing his soft head. That snuggle I had once wished for.. became a reality, a moment I will never forget. I can already it see it being a happy place I will go when negativity tries to weasel its way back in.

The universe works in mysterious ways.

l see now that life has been preparing me for this life event for a while. Having an "almost daughter", whom I love with all my heart, I know what it feels like to love someone else's child as your own. DNA is clearly not the only requirement for being a parent.

A few years ago I would never of had the ability to understand that someone else could love my grandchild as much (or more even) than I could. And yet I have no doubt that they really do. He is theirs and he has not only their glorious love to grow up with, but the love of their extended family as well. How great is that! I know that they will make sure he knows we care and will send pictures and share the important milestones so that we feel a part of what is going on, without stepping on the toes of his real grandparents.

How silly of me not to have looked at the glass half full side of this experience to see that this adoption would end up bringing great joy and healing to another family. Where there was once a heaviness in my heart, there is now a bright light of love and thankfulness for the experience. 

And anyway I slice it, that is progress for me.