2013: The Year of Intention

I am motivated, and touched, by the new year resolutions I see flooding Facebook today, the last day of 2012.  As I sit in our home library, watching it snow out our floor-to-ceiling window with puppies playing at my feet, I think back on my year and look forward to the next.

Twelve years ago, I vowed to live life with no regrets. UM...ahem.  I haven't done much in the way of "Resolutions" since then.  As a matter of fact, I find that I am drifting through most days.  A co-worker suggested we all make a bucket list for our work fun-time activity, and I realized that maybe the reason I haven't accomplished much is because I haven't goaled myself with much.  Degree?  Check.  Master's Degree(s)?  Check, check.  Perhaps it is because these things happened over the course of life and without specific intention that I feel a bit aimless.

So, I started my bucket list.  Nothing on it is earth shattering; the things on it are things I have been thinking about for years, but never committed to paper.  Yet somehow, the act of writing them down and seeing them in ink seems to make them real.  Maybe it is like the love of a boy making the Velveteen Rabbit real; goals need ink to give them life.

I am not going to share a bunch of goals and resolutions here, because (a), you probably don't want to hear them all, and (b), that's not the point.  What I am going to do is boil all this into a very simple phrase for my new year:  I am going to live with intention.

There is a great book by Dr. Wayne Dyer called The Power of Intention.  I read it years ago and just couldn't absorb everything I needed to absorb.  I am going to read it again.  There is a passage on page 230 that seems to crystallize everything I am thinking:

"If you bring forth what is inside you,

what you bring forth will save you.

If you don't bring forth what is inside you,

what you don't bring forth will destroy you."

No more floating and drifting.  I am going to actively participate in my life, and be fully alive.  I owe that to my family, my friends, and most of all - to myself.

Join me.  The Yellow Brick Road is full of obstacles and scary characters, but they all teach us something and cement our resolve, when we look at them for meaning.  The Yellow Brick Road is also full of beauty, love and joy.  I look forward to our awareness.

Once upon a time, an idealistic young lady thought that changing the world involved perfection.  So she worked tirelessly to make sure everything was just so, with all i's dotted and all t's crossed.  If it wasn't good enough, she did it again.  If it still wasn't good enough, she practiced and researched and did it over.

Now she knows it is called perfectionism at best, OCD and AR at worst.  And she is tired.

Let's add this up, shall we?  Um...working full time in a demanding educational position, finishing a (second) master's degree, working on syllabi to cross the boundaries between liberal arts and business, preparing an application packet for a doctoral program, working a business from home, researching and facilitating healing for a child diagnosed with ADHD/ODD/anxiety/depression, holding down the fort which occasionally involves home-cooked meals and housework, taking care of two high energy lovey boxers, and trying to be a friend, mother and wife.

Yes, I am referring to myself, and it's no wonder 4 different Starbucks know me by name and beverage.

I read to escape.  I always have.  Lately I read and keep reading and then cross reference that and read some more.  Which is why I haven't blogged in over two years...I didn't have enough research on anything I wanted to say.  Well, enough with the analysis paralysis.

Just do it.  NOW.  If you like to read, read.  If you want to watch a movie for a little entertainment and escapism, watch.  Sing along with the radio.  Sing along with the TV while viewing Glee or American Idol or whatever makes you happy.  Most of us run like a top, spinning and spinning; stopping to pick up the juggling balls we dropped and set them in motion again; dizzy as a dervish with never a moment's rest.  We need escape and entertainment just to stay sane.  I finally picked up a fictional tale of the life of Anne Bolelyn that has been on my library shelf for at least a year.  This caused me to go back and re-watch The Tudors (Showtime) and enjoy that version of history.  Is any of that "useful?"  Yes, because it keeps me present and healthy.

Read.  Watch.  Do.  Just live your life. :)

The 20/10 Rule

"If you had $20 million or knew that you had only 10 years to live, would you still be doing what you are doing now?"

Provoking words from Daniel Pink, author of "A Whole New Mind: Why Right-Brainers Will Rule the Future." Provoking, and easy to put off a little longer; to think about later; to discuss another time.

It's another time.  And no, I wouldn't be doing what I am doing now.

I would, however, continue my pursuit of education and literacy.  Of beauty, art, music, and kindness.  I would have more to say, in an informed manner, and I would speak the language of enlightenment fluently.

I would make a list of all the things I want to do, and all the places I want to see, and make it so.  I would put a toe in the South Pacific, and paint watercolors from a villa in the Mediterranean. I would shiver on the deck of an Alaskan cruise, and write poetry from the craggy cliffs of the Rockies (again).  I would write, and teach, and help others become the persons they want to be.  I would use empathy and symphony (not sympathy) to heal hurts through organizations dedicated to the holistic wholeness of others.  I would cross boundaries, create metaphors, and examine the "relationship between relationships."  I would look for solutions instead of bemoaning problems. I would make play a priority (wouldn't Sam be happy!), laugh more, and revel in joy.  In other words, I would truly seek happiness, and do it wholeheartedly.

So here is the $20 Million question: What's stopping me?  Maybe it's what's stopping you, too.  Maybe it's the pressure from the tribe to "conform," or fear of starting something new.  Maybe it's inertia, because a force at rest does tend to stay there.  So, I am taking the first step.  Hold me accountable and ask how I am doing.  Share your story.  After all, $20 Million and ten years... that's not really what it takes to be happy.

I do not like Green Eggs and Ham, Sam-I-am!

I could not, would not, in a house.

I would not, could not, with a mouse.

I would not eat them with a fox.

I would not eat them in a box.

I would not eat them here or there.

I would not eat them anywhere.

I would not eat green eggs and ham.

I do not like them, Sam-I-am.

Green Eggs and Ham (I Can Read It All by Myself Beginner Books)

Okay, so the school year isn't going so well.  Sam-I-am doesn't like school...and isn't really willing to abide by any of the rules therein.  I keep hoping he will be like the un-named hero above, who eventually gives in, tries the eggs, and loves them.

How often are we absolutely terrified of the things we don't know?  Overwhelmed by all that is unknown and new?  Peering through the veil, we imagine horrors unknown, because nothing could possibly be as comfortable as what we know.  And there must be something in that veil that resembles one of those mirrors in the fun house, because the unknown "new" takes on proportions that couldn't possibly be real in the light of sanity.  The shadows are out of proportion until they threaten to overtake us and swallow us whole, and the light seems to exist solely as a vestige of illumination.

Yeah.  Well, is it ever really that bad?  Sometimes we get ourselves all worked up and afraid...and for absolutely nothing.  Many times the new turns up being better.  I tried to tell Sam today at lunch that there were all kinds of great things to learn in school...and remember how he couldn't read before kindergarten, and now that he was in second grade he could read great?  Just imagine what was to come! (He looked at me like I was speaking Greek, so I guess they haven't gotten to that language yet.)  I looked through his workbook on back-to-school night and discovered they were going to learn cursive - and I didn't learn it til third grade, so I told him about that to get him excited, to which he replied, (with eye roll), "I know, Mom."

I so far have resisted shoving the green eggs and ham down his throat, but I am not above hiding them in a casserole.

The Great and Powerful Oz

"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" --the Wizard of Oz

Ah, the lessons we can learn from the Wizard of Oz.   Like, flying monkeys and evil green witches are a freak of nature and very scary to small children.  And that we all need hearts, brains, and courage, but sometimes they don't mean what we think they mean, and when we discover their truths, we realize we already possess them.  And most importantly, we learn from Dorothy that we always have the power within us to accomplish what we need, whether it is overcoming adversity or simply going home again.

And the poor Wizard.  Now, there's a man with issues.  He has the illusion of power, but his reality is encased in smoke and mirrors.  And a pretty dad-gum good sound system for a balloon-flying magician, but I digress. 

Have you ever known a Wizard?  The person who projects the image of having it all, and actually knowing where it is, and knowing how to use it? Maybe it's one of the moms in your child's class who works, irons her kids clothes, makes them lunches, and still provides the best loved snacks for the classroom parties.  Or maybe it's someone you work with who puts in their 60+hours a week, donates time to their favorite charity, makes it to all their childrens' sports and music events, gets the promotion, and never gains weight.  Wizards can be downright annoying that way.

Here's my theory: I think most Wizards are like the one in Oz: they look like they have it all together, but they are still hiding something behind a curtain, and it's going to be discovered when someone unexpected rips the curtain back.  Maybe it is a hidden pain, a wounded heart, or an insecurity. Maybe the Wizard act serves some perfectionistic tendency; maybe most wizards are afraid if they aren't perfect, no one will love them. But like the Wizard in the movie we love so much, the truth to be found for our wizarding friends is that the very imperfections they try so hard to hide are where wizardy wisdom begins.  Perfection is an illusion; smoke and mirrors, leading to a giant, disembodied head.  The best lessons in life are in our stumblings and failings, and a true wizard is one who passes those lessons on to others.

So, to quote the Wizard again, I offer to all my fellow wizards, trembling behind their curtains:
"Oh, but I'm a very good man!  I'm just a very bad wizard!"  --the Wizard of Oz

Twas the night before...the first day of school

Once upon a time, I didn't wake up at 2 am worrying about the first day of school.  But that's when I was the one in school, not my child. 

When I was in college, I was given a nickname, based on a theme of Disney characters.  My understanding is that there was a fight between those who wanted Princess Jasmine and Big Mama, but the emotional characteristics of Big Mama won, even if the physical characteristics were in Jasmine-land.  Big Mama, for those of you non-Disney folk, is the owl who finds Tod a home after he is orphaned in The Fox and the Hound. 
Big Mama took care of everybody, and sheltered those she loved under her wing.  Big Mama also had a strong sense of the way of things.  She tried to take care of the emotional needs as well as the physical needs with sayings such as, "Darlin', forever is a long, long  time, and time has a way of changing things."

I charge head-first into the fray when I am protecting my young.  I am learning to think first, but I still find myself with my wings wrapped around the munchkin, shielding him from the very things my mind knows he has to deal with on his own to be strong.  I hurt for the process he goes through, and I want to hug him and hold him and make it better.  Unfortunately, he isn't a toddler anymore, and hugs and kisses seem to do less and less as he takes his steps toward independence.  The munchkin has had a rough time at school the past couple years.  I so want this year to be better for him.

I took this picture this afternoon, and hope if he can rest so sweetly with the puppy, he has the inner strength to do more than even I can imagine.  Sweet dreams, love.

First day of school: Zoo-Wee-Mama!

Hello!  Welcome to the Brainstorm!  Home of Jack-of-all-Trades! Out-there ideas! Moments of brilliance, laughter, and snarkitude!! And occasionally, deeply rooted soul searching.

Ever wonder what would happen if you just started talking...and people started listening, and then it became a conversation?  I invite you into my musings - let's create together.

For anyone with school age children, you know the "beginning of the school year" panic that sets in this time of year.  Will the new teacher understand that little Johnny has to have his pencils in a completely separate box from his markers and crayons?  Will the new teacher mind that Janie refers to herself in the third person as "Janie, The Princess Elect?"  Will Jack be in the same class as his best friend who he feels the need to have a running commentary with all day, henceforth many visits to Senora Principal?  And that doesn't even start on school clothes, the latest Nikes, the right backpack, bag or buy lunch dilemmas, and the riding, walking, biking, or dropping conversations.

Now, I remember the first day of school many times over.  I remember deciding where to sit, and who to walk with, and where to sit for lunch.  What I want to know is when the heck did this all become mandated in elementary school?  My son and I watched "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" this weekend, and I laughed at the fun and antics of this poor new middle school student trying to navigate the maze of a new environment.
Little did I know that my child would decide he could only carry his backpack on one shoulder due to the cool factor, or that "zoo-wee-mama!" would become a frequently uttered exclamation in our home.  The thing that resonated with me the most was all the decisions a kid has to make!  Yet, our school systems now mandate who sits where, and not just in the classroom, but in lunch as well. No wonder middle school is so terrifying.  It was amazing to me that my son identified with the topics so well, and that the things we remember from middle school are now a part of elementary school.  And we wonder why our kids grow up so fast.

I remember thinking a new year was a whole fresh start.  After all, isn't that why we set New Year's Resolutions?  So, to start my child's new year off right, I henceforth resolve never to be the mom who:

• hollers across the room about wayward zippers, 
• cleanses anything off my child with "mom-juice" (aka, spit), 
• forces my child to participate in anything by speaking about him in the third person as if he isn't there,
• and participates in a parent talent show, unless my child actually thinks I have talent.

Whew.  I feel better already. Do you have a funny parent/first day of school type story to share?  post a comment!