Veteran’s Day

The other day, I was visiting a memorial for fallen soldiers.  I would guess that there were about 150 pictures being displayed, each with a short biography explaining the brief life of a person who left us all too early.  I would guess I got to picture 20 before I had to walk away.  Cards, notes, and little pieces of memories tacked around each photo reminded me that although one person was gone, the remnants of that person’s life were not forgotten, and those left behind still living were gathering and holding on to a life that disappeared too quickly.  I left because my composure was on the brink of collapse and I was afraid that the tears threatening the roll down my cheeks would be contagious to the others who were at the memorial as well.

I have not lost someone to war, but to know that an 18-year-old would never experience college, walking down the aisle, or the excitement of a first job was heart-stopping.  To know that there were two little girls out there who would not know what their father’s laughter sounded like pulled at every emotion.  To know that a mother would no longer be able to call up her daughter and talk about daily trivial events tightened every fiber of my being.

I was consumed with the thought of- here were these people- these boys, these girls, these men, these women.  They had once laughed, cried, and worried; they had once had dreams of their tomorrows; they had done the same things that I had done throughout my life and yet many of them would not do the things that I had done in my life.  Rather, they had exchanged their life so I could go on living mine.  

How do you ever say thank you to such an act?  Just the thought of this created a mixture of pride, humility, and awe to stir within myself.  I know that beyond our thoughts, we have our feelings.  I know that beyond feelings, lies our heart.  And I know that when this is touched, the rawest and deepest of emotions can only be felt and not explained.  It is on a rare occasion we experience this.  Words cannot articulate how grateful you can be to someone for sacrificing their own life for your freedom.  

Take the time to thank a Veteran, remember those still here and serving, and to honor those who have given the ultimate for this country.  

A Rolling Stones Classic

When I excitedly express that I am taking the leap of moving to the city for a year, this is typically how the conversation proceeds:

Me: “I am moving to the city in May! I can’t wait for the exposure to things like music, culture, food, events!”

Doubting Person: “Wow, that’s going to be a really long commute. Do you know how long the commute is going to be? Pretty long, sometimes over an hour...”

A giggle always tickles my throat and I’d love to let it escape, but I don’t want to be rude. I want to laugh for a just a few reasons.

1. Yes, I know that the commute will be longer. Do people think I didn’t realize and consider that before committing to making the move? Yes, I am trying to ‘just leap’ more often, but it’s me, the girl who won’t buy a shirt on clearance for $6.00 unless I can reason in my mind, “How many times I can wear it? How many different ways can I wear it? How many pairs of pants will it match? Can it be worn throughout the year, or is it seasonal? Is it trendy or classic- will I be able to wear this for the next three years, or just this season? Do I have another shirt in my closet similar to this? Can I afford this?” Trust me, I’ve considered the commute! :)
2. Will I really allow myself to believe and accept the excuse of time for not doing what I want to do?

The last question makes me ponder, how often do we use time as an excuse, a reason, or as logic for not achieving our goals? There’s not enough time, I don’t have any time, I ran out of time, that’s too early, it’s too late, the timing’s just not right, I’m too old for that, I’m not old enough for that... They’re all right there, we use them all the time (pun intended). Is it a natural defense mechanism to make ourselves, our psyche, feel less disappointed in our failure to achieve what we set out to achieve? Is it the lazy man’s excuse for not having to work hard towards a goal?

I’m not sure. I don’t have the answer to those questions, but I do know that I am trying to use time as an excuse less often. I do know that when something within my control doesn’t come to fruition, time won’t be my first thought as to why it didn’t happen. My first thought will be, “How did I contribute to this failure?” and “How can I make this goal happen anyway?”

I’ve always wanted to live in the city- it’s one of my little life goals. I don’t want to be 60, thinking to myself, “I can’t believe I didn’t do something that I wanted because it would have taken an extra hour a day, sometimes an extra hour and a half. I can’t believe that I allowed time to dictate my behavior, rather than allowing my dreams to determine my future.”

I Remember Me

It seems to me that when we are prepared for every possible outcome, the situation we haven’t prepared for shows up uninvited. It also seems to me that we don’t turn to ourselves for navigating the situation, we turn to our preparations- you know, the ones that were intended for every other situation besides the one that we are experiencing? We’re boxed-in to a certain set of ideas rather than being tuned into ourselves.

Sometimes, looking before you leap halts your progress too. The “what ifs” come into focus. The “I can’t do thats,” “I might fail,” and “I’m not ready fors,” trick us into believing that who we are isn’t enough to handle all we want. Those around us send ominous reminders that there is a scary forest out there full of big bad wolves and roads less travelled.

When we look before we leap, our blind faith disappears. We place doubt on our abilities to navigate life, and place faith in our ability to plan for the unknown and listen to those who proclaim the unknown. We place faith in uncertainty rather than in what we know best- ourselves.

Do not allow faith to find itself in your ability to plan, in doubtful reminders. Allow faith- blind faith- to dig deep roots in the smallest space of all- the supporting voice of your inner-self.

If Baseball Were Like School

Every time you got up to bat, you’d get at least a base hit because strike-outs wouldn’t exist.

The game would be modified according to each player’s needs, so if you didn’t hit well, at minimum the first baseman would be removed, but in essence, all outfielders could be removed to make each player feel successful.

If you never showed up for practice, you would still play well in the game because coaches can make any player successful.

If you hit a single, but you wanted a double, you’d get to re-bat until you achieved your goal.

If someone caught the ball you hit, you’d re-bat and re-bat until you were successful.

If you missed an easy catch, you’d be excused from it and no one would hold it against you.

If you were on the field, not paying attention, and missed a major play, we wouldn’t blame you, we’d blame the coach for not being good enough.

The good players would be rewarded by sitting on the bench unchallenged and the not-so-good players would get all of the coach’s attention.

If you mom or dad disagreed with the coach’s decision, your mom or dad would win instead of being ejected from the game.

If Baseball were like School, no one would play...