What I Want My Children to Know

I want my children to know that they are:

1. Worthy ~ whatever the world says, I want you to know you are always worthy. Your worth doesn't lie in what others say about you or what they do. It lies in being human. You're worthy because you exist.

2. Capable ~ whether you feel it or not, you are capable. You are capable of adapting, of learning of doing new things, and of changing.

3. Inventive ~ you may not feel it sometimes, but you are inventive. You have billions of ideas and endless solutions hidden in your mind waiting to be uncovered.

4. Leaders ~ quietly or loudly, you are leaders. You have a troupe who learn from you and follow you. I want you to be brave enough to step up and lean into your leadership.

5. World changers ~ you already have a global prospective that I never had at your age and your compassion for others moves me. You have the ability to change things about the way you live, how you educate others and become activists to change the world.

6. Adaptable ~ sometimes life changes or we change and it may seem that changing is hard, but I want you to know you are adaptable. You will be able to change with change, regardless of how difficult it may be at the time. You will learn to adapt and with that, grow.

7. Growing ~ you have the ability to be ever growing in your love of others, your knowledge, your strength and your compassion. Don't stop. Push yourself in this area because it will season you and better your entire life.

8. Imaginative ~ you are bursting with creativity. I've seen it alive and blooming. Don't let it die. Add a little sprinkle of imagination in all you do, whether it's thinking outside the box at work or adding art and music to the world.

9. Beautiful ~ you are beautiful inside and out. Don't anyone or any social construct determine how you feel about yourself. Know that true beauty reaches farther than skin deep. Embrace the strengths you have and enjoy them.

10. Brilliant ~ no matter what grades you make/made or what judgement others pass on you, you are brilliant. I've seen your brilliance and can attest to it. You come up with solutions when none are there, you reach the inner pain of someone when no one else can, and you find laughter in the midst of sorrow. You are brilliant, use that brilliance to help others.

What would you add? What do you want the kids of this generation to know?

There's Comfort in Uncertainty

Feeling certain has it's perks. It's safe. It's familiar. You know what you're getting. I'm the type of person that dives head first into certainty and often has to back up. It just feels so good to be certain of something.

The problem is, in reality there is very little certainty.

I found this out through an unusual path. It wasn't a death or tragedy that disrupted my belief in certainty. It was through books; through my love of learning and reading that I began to uncover the awful truth that:

Certainty is rare.

Deeply held beliefs of mine were suddenly called into question. I began to examine them from an outsider's view and they no longer made any sense. I'll be honest, I was crushed. I cried every night for months. Sometimes tears would appear in the middle of the day and surprise me.

I began to wonder if I would ever feel safe again. Would I be able to live in a world where things are so unsettled? So uncertain?

I realize this shows how unconnected I was with the world around me. There are many people who have no choice but to see through the lens of terrible uncertainty. Admitting my surprise of it only demonstrates how privileged a life I've lived. Frankly, it's embarrassing how long it took me to see it.

But I'm awake now.

And slowly, I've learned to find a weird kind of comfort in uncertainty. There is a beauty in not knowing something. It gives room for wonder and mystery. In the past, I only enjoyed mystery when the answers would be forthcoming. But now, I'm learning to embrace mystery as it is, no limits or ending.

Uncertainty has brought me to a place of listening better. Being uncertain of my stance, I find myself learning from others and their opinions. I'm no longer the one with the answers. I am a student of new ideas and different perspectives.

I'll admit, I still look back longingly at the days of certainty and wish for that world. But I'm learning to accept this one and find comfort in the beauty of uncertainty.

Why I Don't Write Bad Book Reviews

I talk about books a lot here ~ what I'm reading, what I'm learning and what I love. And I looooove me some books! But, I found out the hard way that I don't like writing bad book reviews. Years ago when I first shared about books here on the blog, I saw lots of people posting book reviews. They would read a book, give their review (good or bad) then grade it with some kind of scale system.

I wanted to write about books, so as a young blogger, I thought this was the way to do it. The problem was that it bored me ~ having to sum the book up, giving the pros and cons, then stamping a number on it. It took the fun out of reading. Not to mention that the bad reviews I wrote made me really uneasy. One, because I knew the author was a person with feelings and two, it felt so negative. I'd much rather talk about what I do like.

At the time, I just stopped sharing books  on the blog and that made me sad because I love books. They are a big part of my life ~ literally. I always have a book with me.

Finally I came to my senses and realized that this blog is my place in the world and I can dang well write whatever I want! So I freed myself from the self-inflicted expectation of having to write reviews and now I share conversationally about books I'm reading. I talk about what I'm learning and things I love about each book. If I don't like a book, it doesn't get mentioned ~ simple as that. It's an easy system and one I feel completely happy about!

Just in case you're wondering, I do read all kinds of reviews and I know that constructive criticism is helpful for people deciding on buying a book and maybe even for the author who might need to improve in an area. But that's just not the job I want. I'll happily talk about all the books I enjoy and share with you willingly when I think you might want to read something; but I'll keep the books I don't like hidden away in the giveaway box, and there my review will remain.

How do you feel about book reviews?

If you're a blogger, have you ever felt you had to blog about something in a certain way? How did you resolve it?

The Myth of Having It All

I wonder if we've sidelined ourselves by setting up this idea of having it all. We put that idea out in front of our pursuits and come up feeling like we are always behind, always failing or letting the balls drop in some area.

It can seem like if I'm doing well in parenting, then my writing is suffering or if I'm doing well in my marriage, my friendships are lacking. 

I think the reason for this is that we actually can't have it all ~ at once. 

Yes, we can parent and work but sometimes choices have to be made. Maybe we miss a performance to finish a deadline. Maybe we spend the morning eating brunch with our family instead of going to a networking event. We have to choose sometimes which thing to pursue and it's not easy because it's often difficult to know which has the priority.

If, in attempting to have it all, we beat ourselves up and feel frustrated for missing something, then this idea is only counter-productive. 

Maybe a better mantra would be, we can pursue the goals, relationships and achievements in front of us right now. 

We may mess up and choose wrongly sometimes but that's okay because that's how we find out what's takes priority next time.

And while we're talking about priorities, just because we choose to go to a business meeting over a party at our child's class, doesn't mean they're not important. It simply means we have several priorities, and that's okay. It's not wrong for someone to have multiple priorities. I find that women struggle with believing this more than men.

Everyone has the similar choices and sometimes those choices are hard.

I am a stay-at-home mom. While my family is one of my highest priorities, I have other ones too. Writing is one of those. Staying at home can make it difficult to feel okay about letting the house go or saying no to play dates for the sake of pursuing a goal. Wanting to make a priority out of a passionate pursuit is not wrong. In many ways we've been taught that it is, and that we should fit our goals in-between the crevices of what everyone else needs of our time.

I want desperately to be a good mom and every article or book I read which talks about what that looks like tends to lead me to adopt the concept or feel guilty for not adopting it. 

We set up this ideal that to be a success at whatever we pursue, we must have it all. We must achieve perfection in every area.

But when has it ever been possible to reach perfection in every area of our lives? No one has. We often convince ourselves that someone else is achieving this; they're not. If we're honest, we know we cannot maintain every area in our life. We can only focus on what is most important at the moment and pour our energy into that. When we're at work ~ focus on work. When we're at home ~ focus on home. 

We should learn to pay attention to being present where we are and letting go of the guilt for not being somewhere else.

I made some decisions early on that went hand in hand with what I didn't choose. I didn't choose to build a career, so therefore, I gave that up. These were choices I made. None of them were bad or wrong, but they did require sacrificing something.

It may sound sobering that every choice we make means sacrificing another choice, but it's a better focus than guilting ourselves for the choices we didn't make. No one can be two places at once, no matter how amazing they are! Regretting having it all is regretting the impossible dream.

Let's let go of having it all and enjoy what we have.

Let's embrace what's right in front of us!

Life is Pretty and Poison

Last week I got poison ivy. The wind could blow my way and I'd have it. I finally went to the doctor and he gave me a steroid shot. Wouldn't you know it? I'm allergic to that too! It felt as if my skin was an itching fire. A few Benadryl rounds later, I felt sane again.

It's odd how a small rash can consume your mind until something in the world wakes you to greater suffering than your own. 

Until you hear about shootings in Kenya, or about a friend trying to stay afloat in difficult circumstances, or how a young wife and mother passed away after only five short months of fighting cancer.

Then in the same week you see the birth of a child no one thought would survive or a stranger risking their life to rescue someone they've never met.

Isn't that the way life is? Poison alongside tulips. Grief and heartbreak contrasted with babies being born and sunny days. It would be nice if life only held sweetness. The hard parts can consume us and make it impossible to think of little else. We need help. We need to know we're not alone in our struggle.

We walk together in this life so that when we're strong we can hold up the weak; and when we're weak, we can receive strength. We must do both, give and receive. 

After awhile the itch and pain may diminish. There may be moments of relief though perhaps alongside scars. But we can recover. Together.

If you are facing something horrible today, please know you're not alone. I'm thinking of you and if I could reach through the screen and hug you, I would. You are precious. Hang on.

Why Do Women Stay Silent?

Why do women stay silent? 

I've wondered about this for awhile. I still struggle against it. Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to speak up and didn't, then later wrestled with why I'd stayed silent. I know at times it's fear ~ of what others will think, of not knowing the right words, or of looking stupid. Sometimes it may be because of what we were taught about being ladylike. 

Things like:

*It's not ladylike to dominate the conversation.

*It's not ladylike to interrupt.

*It's not ladylike to share your opinions unless someone asks.

I don't know that I actually heard these things being said as much as I felt the expectations. I knew instinctively that it was more okay for the boys in class to share their opinion than the girls. I knew that I would be considered brazen in Sunday School to question the teacher and the lesson. 

I knew that being sweet was a girl's superpower and standing up for others didn't always look sweet.

Awhile ago I read Cheryl Sandburg's book, Lean In, where she observed women in meetings sitting in chairs around the room instead of sitting at the table. Meanwhile, the men took all the seats around the table. She addressed the gravity of this and how we need to learn to lean-in and lead to change the future.

I identified with her example. I had unknowingly done that many times. I think it was partly my lack of self-confidence to have anything significant to say, but it was also an underlying belief that those people sitting at the table were more important than me and anything they said would be more important than my words.

This is such a grave problem because if we as women don't step up and become leaders of today, our daughters, nieces  and friends will not know it's okay to do that tomorrow.

I recently read an article about Iceland women who all rallied together one day and walked off their jobs, whether in the work force or at home. It completely shut Iceland down. Businesses couldn't operate, schools couldn't function, and transportation couldn't run. Because of that one day and the significance it showed of life without women, they garnered pay increases and were the first democratic country to bring in a female president.

They not only spoke up, they walked out on their own security. They took a huge risk. I'm sure it was intimidating and terrifying to participate in something that might not have been encouraged by their bosses and families. 

But with their actions they spoke, and the country heard.

And while I may want to berate myself for not speaking up when the opportunity was there, I realize how much more aware I am of my silence. I'm learning to recognize when I'm quiet and question the reasons so I can get to the root of my fears. I have learned to speak much more than I used to and this skill will only grow with more awareness.

Let's encourage each other to stop being silent. Let's join together and speak up!

29 Gifts

I found this book in a used bookstore stuffed between hundreds of biographies and memoirs. Something about the cover caught my attention. Not because of the cover (although it is cute) but because I couldn't help wondering why the number twenty-nine and why would they be giving gifts. I'd recently read a book about gratitude with thank-you notes, so this seemed to compliment that.

I set a goal to read a memoir this month and in the spirit of minimalism I wanted to read something I already owned. This book had been sitting on my shelf for over two months and it caught my eye as I worked at my desk one day. I pulled it out and cracked open the cover to skim the first page. If a book can't grab me on the first page, then it's not going to keep my attention. As I skimmed I found myself sitting there thirty minutes later still reading ~ it was a keeper.

It's the story of a woman who was diagnosed with MS (multiple sclerosis) and who is feeling suicidal. She calls her spiritual director who gives her a "prescription". The prescription is to give away 29 gifts in 29 days. The gifts don't have to be expensive or even materialistic things ~ time and attention could count.

I won't spoil the story for you, but through her process and the simple act of giving, her entire life begins to change. It has inspired me to consider taking the challenge myself.

Have you ever done something like that? Has giving ever changed your perspective?

The Pulse of Essentials

It's taken me awhile to find the pulse between what is essential in life and what is not. I've whittled it down to my main essentials, which are: family, community, learning, justice and empathy. They encompass the heart of what I care about; and what I'm steering my life towards.

I used to live life like a game of dodgeball, running around trying to dodge failing or disappointing people ~ the equivalent of chasing the urgent and diminishing the important. People would need help with something or need a favor or need a project done and I said yes, when I wanted to say no. If I mustered up the courage to say no, I felt guilty. Berating myself, I'd pour over it again and again, trying to see if there was any way I could jump through the other person's hoop and actually do what they wanted. 

But over time, through the wisdom of good friends, mentors and inspiring authors; I learned how to say no. In fact, I went through almost a year of pulling back from all my obligations and paring back to the bones. What I found was freedom. Without spending my energy on everything else, I could actually focus on the few important things I wanted to pour myself into. I was more productive, more creative, more present.

And yet...it's so easy to forget this lesson. While I've trained myself not to commit to anything until I've thought about it, I still have those times I forget or take on a bit too much. I'm better at spotting now and take care not to add more.

Finding the why behind what I agree to is always important. If I can pinpoint what I'm hoping to gain out of doing something for whomever is asking, then I can objectively evaluate if this goes along with my essentials or not. If, perhaps, I'm wanting to help out a friend; well that's not wrong, but is this the right time? If I also have my college daughter coming home that day and she's wanting to spend time with me, then that may change my priorities. But if I am free and clear then it might be a yes.

Sometimes however, I know that what I'm asked to do will drain the only energy I have for my essentials. Those times I decline whether my schedule is clear or not.

I've found these questions to help me in my decision-making:

1. Why do I want to do this?

2. Is this part of my essentials?

3. Would this time be better spent on other things?

The why is the biggest part. If I'm wanting to do something to impress someone or keep someone from being upset with me, then I know those are selfish reasons and I'm not doing it out of love. If I'm not doing it out of love then I won't be the best person for the job. Or if I feel the task is necessary, then perhaps it's my attitude that needs to shift.  When I genuinely want to help and I can't uncover wrong motives, then I can forge ahead with a clear conscience.

What about you? Do you find it difficult to say no? What are your essentials?

I Wanna Be Stargirl

I read Stargirl this week and was again blown away by the beauty of this story. I read it a few years ago when my daughter read it for school. I tend to make reading assignments for my kids a reading assignment for myself because I need to be informed on what they're reading, right? (Let's be honest, it's just an awesome excuse to read!)

This story impacted me in a huge way. It's told through the eyes of a high school boy and reveals how a new student, Stargirl, changes his perspective. Stargirl seems to be completely unaffected by any social norm. She is loving, giving, musical and full of surprises; but she goes against what most people consider normal so she's not received well. I'll admit, there's a part of me that wants to be her ~ so wholly unaffected by the opinions of others that you live life with absolute freedom. 

"She was elusive. She was today. She was tomorrow. She was the faintest scent of a cactus flower, the flitting shadow of an elf owl. We did not know what to make of her. In our minds we tried to pin her to a corkboard like a butterfly, but the pin merely went through and away she flew."

If you have children in your life, gift them with this book! Or just gift yourself, it's a powerful story.

Broken Cage Part 2

I used to think faith was a box with lines and edges, but now I think of it more like the ocean ~ liquid, flowing, changing. It doesn't sit still, it doesn't stay the same. As life pours out good and bad situations, so faith lifts and drops with it. Sometimes bad situations bring huge cresting waves of faith and sometimes they pummel you down to the ocean floor.

I'm not talking about wavering faith, although that certainly happens too. I'm talking about the aliveness of faith, the growing of it.

It's like noticing your child has grown an inch. They're standing eye to eye with you. You didn't see it happen but you noticed their sleeves shortening. Growth happened and you only saw the result.

That's how I see faith. It's not a mountain climb where you're either going upward or falling down. It's more like riding a wave. The wave starts small, builds, crashes and levels out; then it starts again. Faith is in the entire cycle not just the crest. Faith is present in the doubts, the questioning, the hope and despair. It's all of it combined into this thing that keeps pushing forward.

I don't think God is afraid of our questions. We're so afraid of admitting we have them. We pretend they don't exist and sometimes even convince ourselves they aren't there. But they sit in the crevice of our soul, popping up in moments where life spins out of our control. They flash before our eyes and we choose to engage those questions or deny them.

Denying sends us down a road of falsehood. It keeps us locked into cages we don't know we're locked into. We assume we can get out anytime but our denial keeps us there. Only when we embrace our struggle and our questions, do we get free. Then we're able to embrace faith for what it is, not what we want it to be.

Liquid faith terrifies me. I'm more comfortable with boxes. Boxes will always be the same, they are dependable and safe. But they also keep you locked away from beauty.

Liquid, however, is unpredictable. It moves. It's dangerous and fierce, or calm and soothing. There's no controlling the sea. It does whatever it pleases. Sometimes it takes you where you don't want to go; sometimes it lands you in paradise.

When I realized there was a crack in the foundation of my cage, everything began breaking apart. I tried repairing it with band-aids but they couldn't hold the bars together. All the questions I asked as a kid, all the struggles through grief, all the moments of awe-struck wonder ~ they came rushing in, breaking apart my preconceived notions and adding themselves to my faith.

I stood outside the cage basking in new-found freedom and shivering with fear of the unknown.

Personally, the entire turn of my faith began with one question, "Why not women?"

It may sound trite, but in my tiny existence, this one question opened up a world of questions and I began to view things quite differently. My husband said to me once that when one core belief changes, it alters all of your beliefs. I think that's exactly what happened to me. Once I allowed myself to question one thing, others bubbled up and I grew more bold in asking them. I became comfortable not accepting standard answers, but pushing against them to discover truth.

I wrestle with sharing examples from my own faith here because I fear being misunderstood. If I seem vague about the details it's because I am. I worry it'll set my beliefs in stone in the minds of others, when in truth, my faith is still moving. 

I long to be open about my journey because I know others struggle too and I want them to know they're not alone. I want to be willing to stand honestly and vulnerably in my liquid faith.

But I'm scared. I'm not yet strong enough to share it all. I want to be. I hope eventually I will. But these are baby steps and I'm just learning how to not get seasick with this moving faith.



In case you missed it, you can read Part 1 here.

Half-fish and a Broken Cage

Dad always said I was half-fish.

Sliding under water always felt to me like sliding into edges of God. I was weightless; I could move with liquid speed and hide in the deep. No one could see my emotions under water. I could sneak a smile or tears; I could search for treasure. The water seemed endless.

I always came out from swimming feeling refreshed and exhausted. I often come out of wrestling with God feeling the same way. I connect with Jacob and his wresting of God. God isn't easy to cage, impossible really, and that unsettles me.

For the first half of my life I drank in what was spoon fed to me about God. I hung onto it like a child grasps their blankie. It felt calming and manageable. I knew what I should and shouldn't do to keep God from getting angry. But I didn't just envision an angry God, my parents were tender with me so I could imagine a tender God albeit a little moody.

One infraction and I might get the silent treatment for awhile before He engaged talking to me again ~ or at least that's how I perceived it. I worked hard at keeping him happy. Ironically, I would've sworn a person isn't saved by their works but by grace; yet I had no belief in it. Keeping the God-mamma happy was my goal.

God couldn't be caged ~ but I walked right into one. 

Oddly I felt at peace with it for a long time. It became a cocoon against the world, a tree-house hidden in the trees. It didn't always make sense but it felt safe and I love safe.

So I plumped pillows and hung posters in my little cage to make it as homey as possible. Then I became determined to get other people into my cage with me, like a clubhouse. If they were in the cage then they were safe too, but outside the cage was a terrifying cavern of darkness. I assumed that if others didn't find their way in, they would be stuck in the wild fighting monsters and tempting God's anger.

I posted club rules on the wall and enforced them on my heart with the weapon of guilt. These rules were sacred. Basic rules like: don't swear, don't wear plunging necklines, don't drink, don't miss church, don't go to bars and don't have sex. I didn't want to mess up these rules. Well, except for the swearing one...

I found how delightful cussing could be during my freshman year of college when my cage was feeling tight and cumbersome. My boyfriend had just broken my heart and I saw him with friends walking on the sidewalk in front of my dorm. In a moment of crazed anger I did something uncharacteristic of me, I spoke out. Not only did I speak, but I yelled. I cussed like bloody hell. I stepped out on the back porch of my evangelical college dorm and let every unsavory word I'd ever held back cross my lips in a throttled pelting like rocks across the lawn.

He and his friends looked up in shock then laughed with surprise and hurried on. It fell on them like one plop on the water, but for me, it sailed across the sea in a record seven skips. Freedom. It washed over me like a six foot wave. I'd said what was in my heart instead of hiding it. This was new. It was against the rules. 

So I picked up the stick of guilt and beat myself silly.

The cage grew cramped but I remained because it was safe. For the first time though, I noticed there were cracks in the bars and rust on the locks. This cage was not going to hold forever and I had an ominous feeling I'd have to face the outside soon. I pushed that thought aside and recommitted myself to the rules, which I interpreted as recommitting myself to God. Blindly I didn't see it was the opposite of grace.

The cage fell apart eventually; as with all good pretenses, it had to come to an end.

I'll tell you more about that in another post.


Read Part 2 here.

Grasping Grace

Grace is an elusive word for me.

It's the middle name of my second daughter and it's a concept sitting far beyond my grasp. As much as I'd like to relish in what the dictionary defines as "free and unmerited favor"; I don't. Instead I find myself wrapped in rules and assumptions while running feverishly in the direction I hope is best with my measuring stick in hand adding up successes and failures.

Grace refuses to measure.

It can't be earned. It can't be won. It doesn't rest in the confines of any box. The idea of grace is foreign to those of us living in the land of comparison.

Cannot be measured? What kind of crazy talk is this? How would you know you're succeeding or failing?

You don't. Grace is the utter acceptance of it all, the absence of assumptions and the open arms of believing the best.

What if we had grace for ourselves? What if we lived our daily life not measuring ourselves against others or our own expectations? What if we took ourselves as we are, pouring out free and unmerited favor? What if we did that for others?

I imagine the world would look a lot more compassionate if we did.

Seeking to Understand

When someone believes differently than us, why is our first impulse to criticize rather than seeking to understand?

When I entered motherhood, I was filled with fear about not knowing what to do or about doing something wrong. Mothering can be full of judgments, ones that we heap on ourselves, ones that are put on us and ones we put on others. It's this underlying fear to ~ oh please ~ not be wrong. People begin asking questions that feel like a game of finding out which team you're on: Natural birth or epidural? Breast or bottle? Crib or family bed? Stay-at-home or work?

And suddenly you're on a side and that side feels crucial; as if your side will determine whether or not you're a good mom. Of course, no one wants to be a bad mom. So when we see others who are not on our "team", we criticize them for bad parenting.

We do this in every area of our life. Why did she take that job? Why did he cut his hair like that? What possessed them to buy a house in that area? What they chose was different than what we would've chosen so it feels wrong to us and often we equate wrong as a fact rather than an opinion. We think it is wrong rather than thinking it's simply different.

Seeking to understand each other's view is scary because it might cause us to doubt our own ideals. It puts a spotlight on how many choices we have and how many we've made. It makes it clear how many ways there are to do this life and that's terrifying because it feels like leaving ourselves open to failure.

But gripping our opinions so tightly that we don't leave room for another's thought is a terrible existence. It cuts off people we could learn from. I know, because I've been guilty of it.

What if, instead of jumping into criticsm, we sought first to understand? What if we made that our impulse? What if we reached out to see things from their eyes instead of assuming we know all there is to know?

I've have had friends love me through our differences but I've also been judged by others for my decisions; we all have. Feeling judged is yucky and pushes you away. It feels more tender to have someone love you through differences; that's magnetizing and draws you near. I want that to be my character; it's still a huge work in progress.

I still feel the pull of impulses to argue with someone and make them see my side. I still have those moments when I'm sure I know what that person meant by their comment. But I am learning to let go, not assume and walk in understanding. 

I want others to feel loved by me, understood by me and accepted as they are. I long for my first response to be seeking to understand. I'm not there yet, but I hope to be someday.

Why do we struggle with understanding?

There is Much, Much More

Nature fascinates me. There's an intersection in our town where hundreds upon hundreds of birds congregate on wires and roofs. The reason this amazes me is because just a bit down the road there are no birds on wires, no sight of them anywhere.

It's as if they have an understanding that that's where they hang out or meet-up. And if you roll your windows down while waiting for the light to change, you can hear the intensity of them chattering to each other. Some fly in, while others fly off with their friends. It's a constant circulation of birds. It's like a bird coffee shop. There is a McDonald's at the intersection too, so maybe they're just waiting for a spare fry to drop on the ground. But nevertheless, I'm spellbound watching them at that light.

The photo above is something we found on a hike through the Colorado mountains. My kids found it and thought it looked a bit like a dragon's face, which made me love it.

I'm not really a camping type of girl, but even so, there has always been something about nature that calmed me. When I feel stressed, worked up or upset about something, stepping outdoors gives me relief. Just hearing the stillness of the air, the chatter of creatures or feeling the wind tickle my arm; there is something calming about it all.

It reminds me that I'm not all there is. There is much, much more.

Nobody's Perfect ~ Do You Believe That?

Nobody's perfect. I've heard those words many times, but the truth is, I struggle with believing other people can achieve perfection and do.

I look at others and assume their success, their thriving gardens, their beautiful homes, their intimate relationships just...happened. That they, in their perfect worlds, didn't have to fight or work for it.

I imagine they come home from work each day to a beautiful home that never gets messed up and that their garden thrives with the rain of a thousand thunderstorms...

You get the point. Now of course I don't consciously think this, but I find myself believing it when I'm struggling. When I start to compare myself and think things like, "I'll never, I can't, I don't..." All those negative thoughts that don't get me anywhere but sitting on the side of my dreams doing nothing, going nowhere.

And even though I will tell you all day that nobody's perfect, I still have to punch those feelings away that there are people who are. I've learned to recognize the signs and stop myself mid-thought. My best attack method is being grateful. It's impossible to focus on what's not perfect when you're bubbling with gratefulness for your life.

So even though those thoughts still pop up, I'm learning to counter them by soaking in the beauty of life right now; while imperfect, it's full of gorgeous moments I need to notice.

If this is a struggle for you too, how do you fight against believing in perfection?

Fears of Pursuing Dreams

I've been open about pursuing a few of my dreams here on the blog, so I thought it might be interesting to share some fears I've had about doing them.

Pursuing a dream can be:

1. Vulnerable.

It feels incredibly exposed to even admit you have a dream. It's like opening your soul to let the world see that you want something. It feels a little like setting a feather on the end of your open fingers and hoping it'll stay there in high wind.

But the other option is even less desirable ~ never even attempting to follow your dream. Holding onto that hope and hiding it away like a hoarder. 

2. Terrifying.

What if this doesn't work? Will I look like a fool? What if it goes nowhere? These are just a few of the thoughts making any pursuit terrifying. I often remind myself: anything worth doing is worth the risk!

3. A lot of work.

This is a no-brainer, but sometimes the amount of work can be totally underestimated. I definitely underestimated a good portion of opening an online shop. I've struggled with lots of bumps in the road of what looked like an effortless plan. But I know in the end, all that hard work will be worth it!

4. Not how you expected.

This is most certainly a definite. Sometimes our dreams take different shapes at different times. Or maybe what started as one thing will morph into something completely different. Mine have morphed several times now.

5. Exactly what you want.

As silly as it sounds, this can be the most frightening thought of all. I read somewhere that the fear of success keeps many people from taking a first step. Funny how our minds work, isn't it? But I totally get it. 

I've had moments of sheer panic when I thought, "What if this actually works?" Sounds funny because, of course I want it to work! But I think it's the responsibility following it that makes that thought scary.

Do you have fears about pursuing a dream?

Is Vulnerability Worth It?

I don't like looking foolish. 

I go to great lengths to avoid it. Unfortunately I have the gift of naivety which often works against keeping myself from looking foolish.

When I fail at something big (like relating badly, costing someone lots of time or money), I feel especially vulnerable. My instinct is to try to hide it or better yet, blame someone else. 

In those moments I'm caught at a crossroads, I must attempt to lie my way out or put down my pride and get real honest.

I wish I could say I always chose the latter; I don't. I find myself wanting to take the easier way out. But I've been practicing vulnerability (as Brene Brown says) and learning how to de-activate the walls that spring up in the moment of naked truth.

When I feel that surge of panic, the "I'm going to die if someone sees the real me" feeling, I stop. Then take a breath and ask myself what's going on.

Most often the root of my terror is based in old lies.

The lies of "I'm not good enough" "No one will love me" or "I will never be understood or listened to".  All of those lies get bigger when I believe them. But when I'm able to address it and trace it back to one of these wrong beliefs, I can start telling the truth. I am good enough. I am loved. I am understood and listened to.

But I still have to face consequences of disappointing the people I've failed. 

I have to take ownership of my wrong choices. I have to realize the ones I disappointed might even choose to leave me.

But to believe that I will never be good enough or loved, or understood or listened to is a big jump from disappointing someone.

So I am practicing vulnerability. 

It has been excruciating, but I'm learning the more I do it, the less hard it is to do. I'm finding that being vulnerable when I fail helps to heal those relationships better than blame or denial. The truth is, they could see my lie a mile away; I was fooling myself to think otherwise.

Vulnerability is beautiful because it offers an open hand of relationship to someone, allowing them to take it, and honestly...it's totally worth the risk.

What do you think, is vulnerability worth it?

What's Your Single Motivating Purpose?

What's your single motivating purpose?

I'm not asking what you do for a living or even what you do in life. But what drives you to do the things you do? Whatever it is, it often makes you giddy; or leaves you with a sense that you accomplished what you're here on earth to do.

I've been listening to a podcast by Internet Business Mastery describing how to uncover your single motivating purpose. It challenged me to think through what motivates me.

As I tried to consider what it might be, I thought about things that light me up. I absolutely love to learn. I eternally have a new book, podcast, article or post I'm gleaning from and I love sharing that information with others when it applies to their life. It's not just sharing information (although that's really fun for me) but when it applies to a problematic situation and helps someone is when it feels most aligned.

After spending a weekend obsessing thinking about what my single motivating purpose might be, I finally concluded it was this:

I love to teach and inspire people to grow and move forward in their lives (spiritually, creatively and practically).

It's not that I think I'm an expert or that I know everything, but sharing and connecting what I've learned to help people overcome problems is when I feel most alive. When the information I have, can be used to further someone in their life, whether through growth or inspiration, or whatever; I feel as though I've done what I'm here to do.

What lights you up and motivates you? Have you ever thought about your single motivating purpose? 

If not, I'd highly recommend listening to this podcast. Understanding your single motivating purpose helps in daily life because you can see what things you may be doing that do not pursue your purpose. It's helped me see things I needed to delegate to others whose purpose falls more in line with those activities.

I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

Comfortable with Perfect Imperfections?

Sometimes when I look at photos of myself I want to hide or edit out the aging evidence. But the truth is, this is me. I'm getting wrinkles at my eyes and laugh lines. My hair is spotted with gray between coloring. This is life and I think it's time I stop wanting to hide it.

I don't want to be an example to my girls that aging is something to dread or hide. It should be a privilege to embrace. Sure we all want to look our best, and I'll be the first to admit I love it when someone mistakes me for being a sister of my daughters rather than their mother. But if I dread aging, how does that help anything? It only diminishes the beauty that comes with living a full life.

Susannah Conway has a Pinterest board full of beautiful, aging women called Ageing Awesomely. I love the honor it gives women of time lived, lessons learned, and wisdom gained.

Inspired by her board, I decided not to edit out the wrinkles in my photos, but to wear them proudly and embrace the middle-aged woman that I am.

It's time to hug these perfect imperfections and wear them as medals of my one, beautiful life.

What's Behind the Curtain?

I'd had one of those mornings, you know what I'm talking about. Frantic, everything going wrong mornings that left me frazzled and late for the doctor. 

My husband realized, only a short time before his flight, he needed his passport which was in the safety deposit box. I ran to get it from the bank so he wouldn't be late for his flight, and this made me late to the doctor's.

I'd awoken in the night with terrible ear pain and hoped the doctor would be able to do something about it. Back in the examination room, the nurse was curt and cut me off as I explained some of my symptoms. She told me I only had a fifteen minute appointment so the doctor could only focus on a few things because now they were running behind.

Which I knew was my fault.

I sat there thinking how I could explain to her why I'd been late. I could try to help her understand that I didn't just blow them off. But I realized that it really didn't matter, because to her, the most important thing was that I'd messed up her day.

She forgot to look behind my curtain.

If she had, she might've understood. But like her, I forget to look behind curtains ~ especially when I'm driving. My head explodes if someone cuts me short or doesn't move when the light turns green. If I would glance behind their curtain, I might see a new divorcee struggling to breathe; a teenage man belittled by his dad; or a widow unable to hold back her tears.

I might not be so quick to anger if I imagined what was behind their curtain.

So as the nurse rattled off snippy comments to me, my view began to shift. 

I didn't know what was behind her curtain either.

In the end, I kept my excuses to myself and hoped whatever was behind her curtain, would get a little easier.

Have you ever wished someone rude could see behind your curtain? Have you ever misjudged someone without understanding what's behind their curtain?