Sunday 23 November 2014

That Sliver of Truth

We all want what we want.

When we try to settle on what we have or on what other people tell us we should have, the truth is there.

Sometimes we manage to push it deep down in the recesses of our hearts and minds but in spite of ourselves our truth struggles to be acknowledged and fulfilled.

The great and terrible things about truth is that it has a way of nagging the soul and tickling the conscience, keeping us uneasy and unhappy unless and until we live it.

Those of us who are lucky one day find, like the sliver that emerges from the depth of a festering finger, the truth has risen. Though we are nervous and a little uncomfortable watching it emerge, as we pull out and examine it we recognize what it is and what it means.

Like the sliver and the finger, though it pains us, we must each eventually learn that living truth, whatever that truth may be, is much healthier and happier than continuously plunging it back to the depths.

What truth have you been avoiding and why?

Wednesday 19 November 2014

Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow

Wait, what?

Snow? Nooooo!

With the freezing cold temperatures of yesterday still embedded in my bones, today is not only equally cold but it is also snowing.

Who called for this?  It's still, generously speaking, mid-November!

It's not really the snow that I mind. It's digging out all the snow related gear my four kids have to strap, snap and lace on before heading out the door, the cold-nosed kisses they bring back home with them and the puddles they make because they somehow always fail to remember to take the boots off  on the mat.

It's the snow-shoveling and having to remove ice from the windshield because my van is too long for the garage, though I confess that for about an hour this morning I tried to pretend that it wasn't.  This means I drove it in and left the rear end hanging out, even went so far as to partially close the electric door before I realized I felt way too guilty to leave it that way. I mean imagine the amount of heat that would get sucked out!

So I trudged back out, yes in this cold! Backed the van out onto the driveway, slammed the door and went back inside to boil the kettle, damning my conscience all the while.

Today I don't have the ability to grab hold of my gratitude. I am in a warm house, sipping tea and working on my computer while watching the snow swirl outside the kitchen window.  The flakes themselves are beautiful, really, as are the first snow falls during which the neighborhood is seemingly transformed into a picture from a child's story book.

Other than to drop my younger two at school (only because I absolutely refused to walk the two blocks to the bus stop and I had pictures of my 6-year-old rebelling against walking  in the toe-numbing -19 degree temperatures and then my 11-year-old having to figure out how to manage this moral dilemma), I didn't leave the house.

I encouraged the older two 17 and 15, to make the 20 minute walk to their bus stop.  Other than a surprised Oh, you're not going to drive us?, there was no resistance. They're hearty, I told myself, even as I mentally rearranged my day to stay at home.

Now it's mid-day, the snowflakes are getting bigger and falling a little more frequently. Soccer practice was cancelled (how could it not be, unless the coach was some kind of sadist, it was meant to be an outside practice) and I'm hoping my daughter will forget that today is the last day of acro class.  The day they do their mini recital and parents have to, I mean get to watch them somersault and back bend their way around the room.

I should pick up the little ones from the bus stop, anyway, I guess (I know the older ones will get a ride from the father of a friend who is constantly mortified that I actually expect things of my kids).  Once I'm out and in the car it might not be too bad to go to acro. I also have to go to the mall to get boots for a pair of I'm-never-stop-growing-15-year-old feet.

Let's see, that would be 5,6,7, times in and out of the van, however quickly I run and rush I will get cold and the van will need to warm up again.  If I just pick up the kids and go to the mall I can cut that down to four times including leaving and arriving back home which may be doable.

A new bean filled toy ($6 - max) for the 6-year-old will help her forget that Mommy forgot to take her to acro.

More than worth it!

Friday 14 November 2014

My Best Seller




A simple mug my daughter gave me, when I turned 44 this week, has got me asking questions that I don't like all the answers to.

"Life is a story
make yours a best seller"

As I waited for the kettle to boil, I stared at the words recognizing not just the encouragement but the challenge.  The words reverberated in my psyche, taunting me and asking Are you living up to the challenge?

Before I could answer, I had to create the criteria, what would it mean to live a best seller? Let's see...

Do I give? Too much to too many.

Do I know how to receive? Not graciously.

Do I make time to do what I want? Not enough. It's easy to put other people's priorities above mine, especially when they are louder and more insistent or have big brown eyes shiny with tears.

Do I say yes to adventure? I could be more adventurous. Sometimes I talk myself out of wanting things or out of doing things.

Do I dream? About so many things.

Do I honor truth? As long as it doesn't cause me to hurt someone else. When I would rather take a long hot bath than spend 20 minutes playing a game of sorry with my 6-year-old I usually cave because I know that these days are evaporating as rapidly as raindrops from an August sun shower in Florida.

Do I connect with my inner self? Quieting the voices from outside of me is difficult. When I find myself with time to spare it takes a while for me to unpack my brain and identify the voices behind the thoughts.

Do I look for the blessing? Yes, well mostly. I have a great ability to connect to the blessing and the lesson in most situations. Some take me a heartbeat longer to identify than others but I come to the blessing quickly.

Whether I succeed as a writer or not (whatever that means) and whether I capture my story on paper or not, we are all called to create lives which, if written down, would contain bestselling stories of all kinds.  Love stories, tragedies, comedies, stories of perseverance that inspire.

We should live stories that would entertain a group of friends (and a handful of strangers) at a bar, stories to whisper quietly to a loved one over wine and stories to share with our children as we tuck them in at night.

Good thing I'm young, I thought as I lowered my empty mug and banged it satisfyingly on the counter top, plenty of time to collect more stories.